First Time Destiny | Fire Emblem Awakening (Oneshots)

One Selfless Act

Original prompt: Crying

On every anniversary of Emmeryn's death, I worried about Chrom. It was the only day of the year that I would ever know him to cry, and the sight of it would always strike me like a knife twisting deep into my heart.

It was especially terrible near the beginning. 

No one could find him in the castle on the first anniversary. He was supposed to be in a meeting. I'd begged him to cancel it the day before, but he'd insisted that he would be fine. Obviously not. He'd barely spoken two words to me when we'd woken up this morning, and I hadn't seen him since.

While the servants gave the castle another once-over, I stalked briskly through the royal gardens. Frederick had wanted to come with me, and, even though he'd looked like he was kicking himself for doing his own work instead of sticking to Chrom's side like glue all day, I'd insisted that he stayed. It wasn't as if I was going to need help dragging Chrom back to his duties – that was not my intention at all. I just wanted to find my husband and comfort him so that he wasn't grieving alone.

It was almost too easy to locate him. The royal gardens were a place that many went for a quiet moment to think, and the Prince of Ylisse was no exception. My feet instinctively took me down the pathways that led to Emmeryn's favourite part, where her memorial now stood. It was smaller than the one that was on display in the city, which made it easier to spot the blue-haired man who was kneeling in front of it. His back was bent as he curled in on himself, and his shoulders were shaking.

I crossed the distance between us and knelt beside him, wrapping my arms around his torso. Still, he silently shook, as if a cataclysm was tearing his body apart.

"It's all right," I whispered, stroking his hair. "It's just me and you here. Let it out."

After a moment's hesitation, his sobs rose and became audible. He turned his face into my shoulder and wept.

Later, he would be embarrassed about his display, but he would do the same every year. And I would always hold him, just like this, while I looked at the statute of our last exalt.

"One selfless act has the power to change the world," was the inscription upon the pedestal.

But why did that selfless act have to be you?