𝐄𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 | 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗲

'You're spacing out again.'

'Am I?'

Claude hums. 'Come back to bed,' he says, almost a whine. 'It's cold without you.'

She smiles. 'I think it's going to snow.'

'Don't change the subject!'

'Instead of whining, why don't you come and take a look for yourself.'

Sighing, Claude von Reigan gathers the furs from the bed and wraps them around the both of them, joining her near the window. He's never been very good at telling her no—always found himself wrapped around her pinky finger and bending to her every will like some love-sick puppy—though, he can find no part of him complaining, enjoys it, in fact, and pushes down the talk of his people when they say he is too soft. The only one who he's ever been 'soft' to is (Y/n), his love, his wife of three years who stands before him under the glimmer of the sun rise, looking more and more beautiful as the years, months, days go by.

He wraps his arms around her stomach, touches the creation residing within her with gentle fingertips and whispers to her: 'when do you think they'll be due?'

She leans her head against his own and smiles. 'Spring,' she says and he brushes his lips against her cheek.

'Three moons is too long.'

'You're just going to have to be patient for once in your life, aren't you.'

Claude rolls his eyes, playfully. 'I suppose I'll do it. Just this once.'

In all honesty, he doesn't mind the wait. If anything, he's glad she is able to rely upon him during this time, glad she'll show him more and more parts of her, no longer hidden under silent pliant smiles and courteous words, spoken in alliance meetings to conniving nobles who were not as tactful as he. Her talents were wasted on them, he thought, and yet she still insisted on heading every gathering and governing the major lords as they tried to gain more out of her (not that they ever could and Claude would rather cut off an arm than allow someone to prey on her kindness). Though she was cleverer than that and Claude knew it better than anyone.

Why else would he be so trusting in her? Since their academy days, (Y/n) had always been useful, proven herself worthy of his trust after she had betrayed Edelgard to be his personal mole and he had never felt more accomplished than in that moment. Because, for once in his life, he had the upper hand against the Adrestian Princess and Claude had gained all this information through her supposed 'retainer'. The thought made him laugh.

(Y/n) told him so many stories about her, both good and bad, and hearing what she had done to her, the nail in the coffin that caused her to betray the woman she once considered a friend, made his heart break every time he recalled it. The way her form shrank, slouched against a stone wall at the top of the goddess tower, was a sight he would never forget and Claude told himself from then on that everything he did to keep the Alliance its own region was a good cause. And the fact that she pledged herself to the said objective made him pray to see it through all the more.

With (Y/n) at his side, he truly believed the Leicester Alliance was destined for greatness and he was sure if his younger self saw how his dream came to fruition, he wouldn't have had to worry as much.

(Y/n) squeezes his arm and suddenly he's brought out of his reminiscence and into a short kiss. 'Now, you're spacing out,' she giggles, turning herself around in his arms so she's facing him.

'I guess you caught me.'

He leans down to kiss her gently and even after three years, he still can't truly believe she's his. But she attaches her lips with his with just as much fever and he smiles as his heart skips in delight at her reaction. And when they separate, breathing hard after the exchange of their emotions, he can't help but bring her into his body, wrapping her further into the warmth of the furs.

'I think spring will be a little bit brighter this year,' (Y/n) said, hugging him closer.

Claude leant his chin atop of her head, lovingly. 'So do I.'