#pregnapped

[fe-fictions]

Gaius x Robin Commission (Robin gets pregnapped and Gaius is,,, super not okay with it >:O )

Since the end of the Valmese War, and your return to the living world, you found yourself back in the busy world of reconstruction and regrowth. 

There wasn’t as much for you to do as a tactician, and since Gaius was a reformed thief turned war hero, he was now on the right side of the law and would become an upright citizen dedicated to helping you restore the halidoms from Ylisstol’s castle.

But what this meant was that while there was plenty of work to be done, there was a lot more free time on your hands compared to war time. Now that things were busy again, it was getting difficult to find time to relax. 

The hustle and bustle of a growing halidom meant that more needed to be done by Chrom’s chief advisor, baby or not. Gaius was the one who was most worried about it. 

“You know, just because everyone else is getting busy, that doesn’t mean you have to as well, Bubbles.”

You glanced up from your work, where you’d been hunched in your office since the dawn. Your husband didn’t waste much time, closing the distance and circling around your desk. He pulled your chair back, forcing you away from the paperwork.

A small whine escaped you, though your glare was more jovial than annoyed.

“Gaius, this is an important budget proposal I have to review. Miriel was insistent that I give her my recommendations on it by the end of the day-”

“That would’ve been fine four months ago.” He put his arms on either side of you, gripping the back of the chair. “But unfortunately, you’ve been given strict rules not to overwork yourself until the baby’s born. And even then, Maribelle said you’d have to take it easy for another three months.”

“Gods…that’s such a waste of time!”

“She just said to ease back a little.” Gaius reminded you, taking your hands and lowering your arms so that they were wrapped around his waist instead. 

He gently rested your head on his chest, smiling fondly at his pouting, pregnant wife.

“It’s still too long.” You sighed, squeezing him close.

“Yes, yes. How ever will you survive without working yourself to death?” 

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes, “How about you let me finish this review, and afterwards we can take a nice, long break together.”

“Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?” His question was earnest, which received a warm smile and a squeeze of his hands.

“I would actually love it if you could bring me some of that herbal tea in the royal kitchen. It helps a lot with the back aches, and I’ve been feeling it for the last couple hours.”

“Sure.” He helped you up, “And would you like a sweet treat with that bitter medicinal swill?”

“That would be wonderful, yes.” You grinned at him, leaning up to kiss him. “Thank you for being so perfect.”

“Why don’t you take a little walk in the meantime? That’ll help with the aching while you wait.” 

You opted for a brisk walk in the courtyard. It was actually quite relaxing, and did help ease the tension in your back. The tea would certainly take care of the rest.

Within ten minutes, you opted to head back, figuring Gaius would be ready by then. But when you returned to the office, you found your office empty, only a cup of tea and some biscuits waiting on the desk.

“Guess he had something come up,” You shrugged, had a sip and a bite, and continued with your work. But the ache in your back didn’t ease like normal. A stronger, more irritable ache in your skull started, instead. 

“Ugh…” You groaned, pressing your hands to your head. A sudden migraine was abnormal. The world became blurred, a pit in your stomach. This wasn't an illness. It happened too suddenly. 

It was poison.

“Gaius…s-someone…” Your words were too quiet and too slurred to be coherent. You tried to stand from the desk, but your legs gave out from under you. The cup crashed to the floor in your attempt to catch the desk.

You felt the stone strike against your head, and then…there was nothing.

-------------------------

Gaius was held up by the lack of tea supplies. For some reason, he couldn’t find the right kettle, or the medicinal herbs, or even the cup you preferred. 

The cabinet he had kept everything of yours carefully stored in (the one he shared with you, that most of the royal chefs allowed you two to use)...had been compromised.

Everything was gone.

Gaius was not immediately concerned until he heard from every person he asked in that kitchen if they’d seen your herbs or dishes. To his chagrin, none of them had, save for one…who thought they’d seen Gaius come by earlier to make your tea. 

An impostor.

Gaius was sprinting away from them within seconds. Fear and adrenaline spiked, fueling his system to burst towards the monstrous mess that was coming. He fought the panic back as best he could, but deep down he knew what happened

‘It’s been years…dammit, it’s been this long with nothing-!! Why would they go after her now?!’

Gaius swerved around the corner, clearing the corridors and practically running over anyone who stood in his way by mistake. The door to your quarters was still locked, how he’d left it. Surely you returned from your walk by now. He tore the key from his pocket and thrust the door open.

“Robin?! Robin!!” He called after you, but received no response. He rushed to the office,; and his heart dropped to the floor.

Your tea cup was shattered, spilled all over the stone. Your desk was a mess, and your window, behind the chair…was unlatched. On the windowsill was a single flower; a snapdragon blossom.

The calling card of the thieves’ guild.

“Oh no. Oh gods…oh, oh, Robin-” He stumbled over his feet, trying desperately to turn on his heel and break out of the room. The Exalt was summoned frantically, which didn’t take long to cause a chaotic panic among Shepherds.

Gaius shouting “Robin’s been kidnapped!!”, fomented chaos. He was ripping through the palace, and lighting a fire under every single Shepherd he could find. 

Soon enough, there was a council room filled to the brim with confused and worried soldiers.

“How did she get kidnapped? It’s not even the dead of night-- how did anyone miss that?!” Stahl asked right out the gate. Frederick grimaced, unfurling a map of the continent and another with schematics of the castle.

“I am uncertain, which is alarming. It is not as if we leave the palace understaffed in terms of security. And Robin is extremely capable of defending herself.”

“That’s because these aren’t your run-of-the-mill criminals we’re talking about.” Gaius said, showing them the flower. “This is a message. It was left on the sill in Robin’s office.”

“A snapdragon.” Miriel observed simply, “It symbolizes deceit, does it not?”

“It does. It’s a message from the thieves’ guild.”

“What?” Sully stared at him, incredulous. “No way! We took down that band of fools ages ago. Hells, you were there! You helped us out!!”

Gaius nodded, recalling the days during the war when he’d provided the imperative information to take apart one of Ylisse’s biggest challenges; its organized crime ring.

He had been a part of it, long ago. Though it had served as little more than another avenue for him to bring in cash when he needed it. The ties had been cut long ago in an effort to preserve himself and his own interests. 

He needed to build trust with the Shepherds, and he wasn’t concerned about potential fallout. He didn’t have anything to lose, before. 

“They’re using Robin to get to me. They won’t give her back willingly, and I don’t know what they want to trade with me in exchange for her safety.” Gaius’ hands were on the table, scouring the maps in an attempt to avoid the pitying eyes of his friends and allies.”

“They want revenge.” Chrom’s hand was on his forehead, feeling the gravity of the situation increase exponentially. “If they were able to slip into the palace that easily, they knew how to navigate it. There must be a route that they took, right?”

“There’s a good chance they entered through the catacombs beneath; it would be most difficult to spot them there.”

“And where do these lead to?”

“There’s a network all throughout Ylistol. If they were able to access the royal catacombs, then they likely found an opening. And the entrances to the catacombs are…here, here and here.”

The group gathered around the map as it was marked at the southern and north-eastern sections of the castle.

“If they took that route…it would toss them pretty far from one of their hideouts. Hells, we could throw wyvern riders out there just to be safe, but it’s too open.”

His finger drifted from the southern point to the second marker, tapping his finger against the parchment.

“If they came out here…there’s a hideout 50 miles from here. It’s in the hills, and it’s tough to find; harder to get access to. If they‘re back in their hole, I wouldn’t doubt it’s this one.”

“And if they set up a new hideout? One you didn’t help us find?”

“Then I will spend every waking second hunting them down. I’m not leaving a single stone unturned.” Gaius vowed, his glare furious and filled with purpose. 

They were not going to get away with the foolish choices they made.

“Gaius, I understand your concern. Truly, I do. We’re all worried about Robin and Morgan. But I want to make sure you aren’t going to do anything rash.” Chrom said firmly, “We cannot risk you going rogue and getting injured because you lost control trying to get Robin back.”

“I would never let that happen.” Gaius snapped at him, “But you’re not gonna stop me from trying to find her. I’m not gonna lose her like this!”

“And you won’t. We’re bringing Robin home.” Chrom reassured him, looking tentatively to his knight commander. “But I don’t want you to get hurt trying to save her on your own. So promise you won’t go after her until we form a plan, as a unit.”

“A unit.” He repeated, his voice quieter. He looked around the room, “The amount of time it’ll take to get everyone ready is time we can’t waste. Just let me do this on my own!”

“We’re going to rescue her as a team- and that’s an order. Trust in us, Gaius.”

The thief was not happy. He was angry, and he was afraid. The guild didn’t work slowly, and they didn’t want her unless he came as a result.

There was no time to spare. 

Gaius bit his tongue and nodded, relenting to the Exalt’s command. He watched as the group returned their focus to the map, starting to draw together a strategy. 

They would form a final plan within a few hours, at least, and by then everyone would be ready to go.

As far as Gaius was concerned, a few hours was a waste of your time.

-------------------------

“Lord Chrom!!”

Sully’s voice rang out from the armory, where teh Shepherds had gathered hardly an hour earlier. She rushed to him and Lissa, her face pale and jaw clenched.

“Nobody can find Gaius anywhere.” She reported grimly, “And Cordelia reported that we’re missing a Master Seal from our stock.”

“Oh gods.” Chrom pinched the bridge of his nose. “He didn’t.”

“We need to move, quickly.” Frederick spoke from the side, looking just as grim as Chrom. “If he’s hunting them down we cannot risk letting him do more harm by acting alone.”

The Shepherds were whipped into an even more intense frenzy, rushing to go after not just their tactician, but a thief who likely just changed class to something even more lethal.

It was frightening to think what he was going to do next.

-------------------------

Gaius was able to find the guild fairly quickly, thanks to his lingering connections with Ylisse’s underground. 

Tracking the hideout down to the southern-most point of the kingdom was what caused the biggest headache. But once he found the entrance he was looking for, there was nothing left to lose.

His class change had brought with it a much more vast knowledge of paralytic poisons, with all sorts of fun side effects that might bring them to the edge of death, but nothing more.

The blades in his hands worked quickly in the cover of darkness, striking out and drawing blood at any thief unfortunate enough to pass him by. 

He was rushing through the corridors, the hideout in poor shape and poorly put together. It was clear they were in dire straits.

They would have been welcome to rebuild in his mind, before all of this. Now…well, it was going to be torn down by his own hand.

Veiled in black robes, he navigated swiftly towards their holding cells. It wouldn’t be long before he got where he needed to. 

If they were going to hold a prisoner anywhere it would be somewhere secure…especially given the status of their victim.

He climbed to the ceiling, drawing himself up onto the rafters when he reached the guarded doors.

 Two men, neither had sensed him yet. The wood creaked beneath his feet where he was suspended. Just as they looked up, a dart struck each of their foreheads.

They both fell silently, slumped to the floor.

That would buy him at least thirty minutes, before the poison wore off. He dropped and fetched the keys, swiftly unlocking the doors and descending deeper into the pit of the hideout.

He barely breached the doorway when he heard a familiar, dry laugh.

“It’s about time you came, boy.”

Gaius froze. Standing at the end of the hall, lined by rusting prison bars and stained blood across the stone. There, at the very end, stood his wife, a knife to your throat, your arms and legs bound.

“Robin-” His heart was in his throat. “Baby, are you hurt? What did they do to you?”

“She’s all right for now, Gaius. If you don’t want anything to happen to your wife, or your child, I would put your weapons down and get your hands up.”

They knew you were pregnant. Of course they knew. 

Gaius lifted his arms, taking his weapons out and dropping them to the ground as instructed. Then his hands were in the air.

“All right. It’s all on the floor- I don’t have anything else. Now let Robin go! She doesn’t have anything to do with this!”

“I’m well aware. You gave us all up for a shot at the good life, didn’t you? You thought if you sold out the pepole who took you in and taught you every damn thing you know, that you could live the high life. Have a cushy job in the castle…have a little family…you didn’t think that was gonna really happen, right?”

“Tell me what you want, and let her go- I’ll do whatever you want, so long as she doesn’t get hurt. Just leave her out of this!”

“I’d be happy to…if you hadn’t made such a poor choice. You got to pay for what you did, boy. So here’s what we’re gonna do.”

Gaius’ arms were suddenly yanked behind him, and a boot connected with his stomach before he could even blink.

“Gaius!!”

Your panicked call was quickl silenced with a press of the blade, drawing blood from your skin. Your captor shoved you forward, forcing you to clsoe the distance where your husband was writhing on the floor.

“This is what I want. We’re gonna beat the shit out of you, like you deserve. And then we’re gonna take your wife…you’re never gonna see her again. And as soon as that little brat of yours is born…they’re gonna be a real thief; my progeny. That’s your penance, for destroying the world we worked so hard to build. You spilled our blood…so I’m taking yours.”

Gaius reached his hand out, inches from where you struggled against your captor’s hold. This wasn’t happening. This was a nightnare. He couldn’t lose everything.

“N-no…please…” He gasped, fire burning his lungs with every attempt.

Instead, he got another boot to his stomach. Blood sprayed from his mouth. You sobbed.

“Stop it- stop it, damn you!! H-he can’t fight back!”

“No, he can’t. Looks like little Sticky-Finges Gaius has become a pathetic little creature. And now he gets to watch as we rip his entire reason for living right out of his hands.” The bastard sneered, a sick grin spread wide across his face. “Enjoy this moment, boy. It’s the last time you’ll ever see her face again. Though if you grovel…I might reconsider.”

“Huh…” Gaius’ hand touched the man’s boot, “I d-don’t think so.”

Suddenly, you were released, the man’s body contorting with pain. He fell to the floor, writhing and crying out. Gaius grabbed your wrist, pulling you to his side. He struggled to his knees, holding you to him.

“G-Gaius!” You felt him loosen the bindings, before the rumble came overhead. The ceiling shook, debris falling onto you both. “Gaius what did you do?”

“Poison charms. One of the many…many advantages of the assassin class. Though…I only have a few of those.” He managed, “He’ll be fine in an hour or so…but for now, he can suffer for wat he did…to you.”

“What’s going on upstairs?” You pulled the ropes off, before taking him in your arms, drawing Gaius to your chest. “Is that the Shepherds?”

“I’d a-assume so…they probably aren’t happy that I came for you without them.” 

“You did what??” You gasped, cupping his face to draw his hazy gaze to yours. “Y-you got beaten half to death and they didn’t know you came after me? W-what were you thinking?!”

“I needed…to make sure you…were safe.” He grunted, trying to swallow down the pain reverberating through every bone in his body. His hand fell to your middle, the smallest swell of a baby bump skimmed by shaking fingers. “I wasn’t gonna w-wait around while you were stuck here. If they hurt you…”

“I know. You stupid man.” You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his forehead and hugging him tight. “Let’s try to stop the bleeding while we wait for the others…I don’t doubt they’ll be here soon. And, um…thank you. I can’t imagine what you were going through when you figured out what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it…I wasn’t gonna stop for a second. Not even Blue could’ve kept me from g-getting you two home.”

“You’re a valiant man.” You murmured, squeezing him close. “Now stop talking so much. You’re gonna exacerbate the internal bleeding.”

Gaius nodded, relinquishing control to his dear wife. You did have a good point; the sensations he was feeling weren’t particularly pleasant.

He was able to stay conscious long enough to see Maribelle and Vaike come careening into the holding space, and could hear incoherent scolding when more Shepherds showed up.

When he came to, he found himself in a cot, tucked away in Southtown’s clinic. He would turn on his side to find everything still hurt, and he was tied up in bandages from head to toe…but that his wife was curled up beside him, sleeping soundly with his hand held to your chest.

Gaius accidentally woke you up by throwing his arms around you and hugging you as tightly as he possibly could, and of course peppering you with a thousand kisses that you couldn’t have escaped from if you tried.

You were safe. The baby was healthy, and both spouses would be assigned a long, gentle recovery period until you could return to work.

With plans in place to make sure that should Gaius ever have to leave your side again (which he would make absolutely sure happened as little as possible), he would be easily accessible and could hurry back to you.

The nightmare was over. Mercifully, he was able to bring his family back home. A fear he would spend the rest of his life ensuring would never happen again.

#gaius #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #gaius x robin #fe fictions #fe-fictions #kidnapping prompt #kidnap prompt #pregnapped #pregnancy angst #hurt and comfort #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #commission #story commission #thank you so much!!!!! #this was a really fun one to write #gaius would absolutely raze a kingdom to get his robin back ;;;;;

[fe-fictions]

I miss the claude pregnapping fic sm I’d love to revisit it if u have it still to repost. Love ur writing it’s sooo goood

(Ahhh thank you so much!!! ;; U ;; )

No one had ever seen Claude in a state of pure angst.

They had seen him upset, when the professor had been lost. They’d seen him angry, afraid, and worried throughout the war even when he hid it. They saw him in grief, saw him mourn… but it was nothing like this.

They had never seen a man struggling to cope with his pregnant wife’s disappearance.

It happened in the dead of night. You went to the chapel, unable to sleep. Claude woke with the intent to follow, but was a bit tired to follow. That was his fatal mistake; He didn’t go right away. Maybe if he had, he would have been with you; not in the hall when the chapel was desecrated. Where he could only listen to your screams through the door.

The stained glass shattered so violently he heard it meters away. He was sprinting in a split second, crashing against the doors. Locked.

The doors were locked.

He heard voices, he heard you struggling against them. He was throwing himself against the door, his bow nowhere close by. He was a fool.

“BYLETH!!”

The noise he was making, coupled with whatever violence was happening within the chapel, soon drew the attention of the guards. Seteth was in a frenzy, breaking down the doors before they made it inside. By then, it was far too late.

You were gone. 

Claude fell to his knees, shaken by what he was looking at. An empty chapel, torn asunder and covered in broken glass and marble. What had happened? Who hurt you? Where in the hells did you go?

There would be no more sleep. Not for several days. 

Claude was in unspeakable distress, taking every shred of evidence they could pick up, trying to find your captors. Find where they’d taken you. Seventeen nights in a row, he had ridden the skies on his wyvern, searching for some sort of hideaway that they could have locked you up in. 

You were only three months pregnant… not enough for anyone to know what you were. Not enough for anyone to be told, save for Claude and maybe Marianne or Lysithea. 

Seteth had suspected as much, and when Claude told him one raw, horrible night after your kidnapping… Seteth found little rest, himself.

The Archbishop was missing. The king’s family was on the line.

It was no wonder Claude was on the brink of madness.

He couldn’t imagine how horrible you must have been feeling. To be abandoned and alone, with no hope or assurance that you would be safe… to be pregnant and wondering if your child would survive with you…

Gods, gods, gods–

“Claude?”

He was barely able to pull his head up from the ashes of his anxiety.

“Lysith… Lysithea.” He croaked, releasing his hair that he had been clutching painfully tight. “Did you find something?”

“No, no- I heard your voice. You were… whimpering.”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but they quickly narrowed as he looked away. He scoffed, “Was I really being that loud?”

“No. But it was enough I thought you were cursed or hexed or… something.”

“Sorry. You shouldn’t have heard that, or… seen me like that.” 

“Claude, your wife was taken in the middle of the night. You have every right to be like that.”

“She was taken weeks ago.”

“And we’ve been searching for weeks.” She reminded him coolly, stepping into his office and shutting the door behind her. “We’re certain to have a lock on her in the coming days. Seteth’s been running the scouts ragged, and those wyverns have an excellent sense of smell. They’ll hone in on her scent and we’ll recover her in no time.”

“Hey, Ly? Did you ever think that… if wyverns are so good at tracking… there’s a reason we haven’t found Byleth by now?”

“You can’t think like that-”

“What am I supposed to think?” Claude rose from his seat, nearly knocking the chair over. “She’s out there, alone and scared… she’s pregnant, and we don’t even know if we’ll get to see the kid, o-or if either of them will make it out alive, or if they’re even anywhere we can find them, or-”

“Claude,” She hurried forward, seeing the tears spilling down his cheeks before he realized it was happening. “Claude… oh, Claude.”

“I-” He hiccupped, spitting a curse as he crumbled. “I’m sorry. I can’t be- Byleth doesn’t need this. She needs me to work, to help her-” 

“Claude, you’re scared. You’re worried and afraid, and you’re allowed to feel those things. You’re allowed to cry. You can’t hold all of this in.”

“No, I have to.” He shook his head, piecing together what little resolve he had left. “I Have to I’ll cry when she’s back home. I can’t waste time being all emotional when she probably doesn’t even have that luxury, or…”

“Please.” She whispered, drawing him into her arms. For a moment, he didn’t move. He imagined if it had been your warmth enveloping him. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt so terribly broken.

It was when he wondered if he’d ever get to hold you again that the dam broke.

Lysithea wouldn’t forget the feeling of a friend shattered in her arms, of comforting a frightened king.a man who loved his wife beyond all comprehension.

A man who loved a woman so much he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

It was that thought, the realization that he absolutely needed to stay beside you, that pulled him from his misery.  It was the only thing that pushed him hard enough to keep it together, as long as he could.

He leaned on Hilda and Lysithea for support then, as everyone continued their tireless push to pinpoint your location.

But it would be weeks still before they finally did.

Claude was never one to abandon hope. He didn’t admit to his feelings of fear or loss, even when the thirtieth day passed.

It was the thirty-second day that Hilda barged into the war room, breathlessly announcing that they did it.

They had a lead.

One of the wyvern riders had been able to track a trail that had been left by the scent of blood. A small stain of it that had been found in the chapel all those weeks before. 

The rider followed it fining the scent stopped in the mountains several days’ flight from the monastery. But it was there.

Without a doubt, the rider informed them personally as Claude rasped his shoulders, there were people there, hiding out in a secret long lost castle.

One that was small, easily concealed in the bitter cold, and flanked by a number of wyverns that didn’t belong to any ally.

Claude nearly rallied the troops for war then and there. They found you.

King Dimitri of Faerghus naturally allied immediately, ready to help Claude raze whatever villainous strongholds they still had. Anything to bring you back home.

His wyvern flew with a strange new strength, sending him careening through the sky at a velocity the naked eye barely registered. His forces moved quickly behind him, and Claude’s bow was at the ready, taking aim as they neared your location.

The snow made it difficult to see, but that didn’t slow him down. His eyes were like that of a hawk’s, zeroing in on the thought-to-be abandoned castle after days of traveling the skies.

The plan was simple. Hilda and Raphael would be tasked with securing the exits, while Ignatz identified any possible secret entrances or trapdoors they might attempt to escape from (and potentially take you with them). 

Claude, considering he was a hard target to miss (and at this point in time, not one for stealth in favor of decimating those who would take his wife), would lead the front lines.

He had the decency to wait until the more covert operators were in position before he unleashed a rain of arrows with his accompanying wyvern riders.

Seteth dropped first after the volley, cutting through waves of soldiers with Flayn secured behind him once you were found and ready for medical treatment.

Claude was counting on Flayn most of all, at this point; though Seteth’s blind rage certainly helped.

He circled the skies a few minutes longer, helping to eliminate snipers and magicians so they could safely land. 

His wyvern’s claws barely touched the castle’s floor before he leapt from its back, making a break for the entrance and drawing his sword.

They didn’t stand a chance.

The Ones Who Slither that had the audacity to capture the queen, his queen, had never seen anything like it. 

A man whose wife and child were on the line was little more than a demon in the throes of blood-wrath. 

Claude simply wasn’t having it.

The main floor was cleared of the dastards, and shortly after, Hilda and Raphael emerged from the basement. You weren’t being held underground. Most likely, you were in one of the towers. 

“Everyone, split up! Take every tower, every upper level- move in groups of three, and make sure you have a healer with you! If you find her light a black flare and send for me immediately!! I’ll do the same. Now, move!!”

Claude took Seteth and Flayn with him, the three practically barreling through the castle and breaking down every door they could find. 

They wound their way up the southwestern tower, but to their dismay, every corridor attached to its steps was empty. 

Claude had taken to smashing down the doors just to blow off some anxiety-packed steam.

A red flare was launched from the northwest. You weren’t on that end. Claude broke into another room, his voice thick as he called for you. 

Another red flare from the northeast. Claude swallowed a curse, leading Seteth and Flayn down another hallway. A trail of shattered splinters were left behind them, their options thinning. 

Seteth caught the flare behind them, to the southeast tower. This was it.

You had to be here.

Claude bit back a frustrated growl when the penultimate door revealed yet another empty room. 

Nothing but snow and ice filled the place, the biting cold seeping into his blood and filling him with dread. 

He rushed for the final door, drawing the sword over his shoulder. This was it.

What if you weren’t there?

Had they already taken you? 

Did they spot the army before they could attack, and gotten you out? Was that battle just a diversion? 

Did he really lose you again?

“DAMN YOU!!” He roared at no one in particular; his fears, perhaps. The sword came down on the old wood like a crack of thunder, decimating it with no mercy. 

He crossed the threshold, panting like a rabid animal. He searched the room with wild eyes, the sword gripped so tightly his hand bled. 

“Byleth… dammit, Byleth-!!”

“…Claude?”

His breath hitched.

Claude started, following the quiet call of his name. He knew that voice. He knew that shock of light hair, the wide, tired eyes that stared at him from the dark corner of the room. 

There, huddled in a musty old blanket and shivering terribly…

The sword clattered to the floor. 

“Oh, my gods.”

It was you.

“Lady Byleth!” Seteth exclaimed, but Claude was ten steps ahead. 

Rather, he was sprinting, crossing the room and kneeling down in front of you, grasping your shoulders painfully tight.

“Byleth- Byleth, is it… is it really you?”

“C-Claude…” You whispered his name, again. He felt you under his fingers, your body colder than it should have been. He breathed out a broken laugh, his eyes filling with tears that blurred his vision just as they did with your own. “I-I-I thought… I t-thought it was o-over…”

“Goddess, no. No, no, no.” He shook his head and gulped down his emotions, long enough to cup your face and try to wipe away your own tears. “There’s no way in all Hells I was gonna let you go. I didn’t let myself think for a second that I could truly lose you.”

He heard Seteth say something behind him, and Flayn’s tittering laughter, but… it was little more than noise in the background. 

Claude’s hands fell from your face to your arms, drawing you into his chest and engulfing you in a crushing embrace. 

You buried your face in his neck, soaking up as much heat as you could from your dearest husband. 

“I-I… can’t believe you found me.” You whimpered, letting him draw you into his lap as he fell back against the wall. He didn’t respond at first, instead peeling the dirty blanket from your body. 

Your robes were in tatters, dried blood staining the pristine white where the dirt and grime didn’t. 

Claude wanted to be mad, but what more could he do? The foes were vanquished. You were safe.

Your baby was safe.

His hand fell to your stomach, just below it, where the baby had started to grow. In nearly a month you had started to show just a little, enough that someone who hadn’t been aware could suspect you were with child.

In nearly a month, he had missed the start of his child’s life.

You watched as his expression crumbled into something unreadable, a mixture of grief and regret and sorrow that morphed into a numb pain you couldn’t even hope to understand. 

All you knew was that Claude needed to hold you as badly as you did him.

You reached up, passing a hand through his hair and drawing him back into reality. He shook his head again and gave you a strained smile, before getting to work.

He carefully turned to Seteth, gesturing to Flayn so that she might come and get to work on any wounds she could heal.

While Flayn tearfully took care of you (and Seteth melodramatically explained how worried he had been), Claude unclasped his cloak and wrapped you up in it, enveloping you in the heat you craved.

Shortly after Seteth launched the red flare, Claude took you up, bringing you away from the nightmarish castle. 

Once you were reunited with everyone (in the safety of Claude’s arms, of course), it didn’t take long for soldiers to start offering scarves and gloves, contributing all that they could to help the Archbishop recover.

They didn’t know if you trembled from fear or from the cold, but Claude was the most determined to put a stop to it.

He held you tightly the entire ride back to the monastery, even after the weather became kinder and the need for woolen bundling melted away. 

Mercedes was quick to tend to you on the ground, informing him that just to be safe, you needed to stay bundled until your body temperature was back to normal.

“Say no more,” He said with mirth in his eyes, sweeping you up and taking you back to your bedroom. 

Naturally, the doors were latched shut and the windows practically barred (and plenty of soldiers stationed everywhere nearby), but as far as you were concerned, it was a private haven.

Claude settled you onto the bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before drawing a bath and starting up a fire. 

He took you into the water and washed you, scrubbing you tenderly from head to toe to rinse away the nightmare you suffered.

Hot soup would be enjoyed by both of you (Claude did, however, insist on feeding you), his arm around your shoulders as you sat before the flames, that night.

“I’ll take care of you.” He murmured between promises to keep you safe, “I won’t let you out of my sight ever again. And I’ll say the very same for the little one, too. I got lucky, once. I’m not risking losing either of you after that.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” You replied quietly, eliciting a kiss from your husband. Gently he returned you to bed, the both of you exhausted beyond reason. 

He found the strength to tuck you in, and crossed to his side of the bed before slipping into the blankets and promptly taking you into his arms once more.

You didn’t say anything about his quiet desperation, how he clung to you tighter than you could have held him, even if you wanted to. 

He was thankful beyond words to have you back home, and you knew that just by feeling him around you. He wasn’t going to let you go, anytime soon.

And you weren’t going to let him.

#claude #byleth #fe 16 #fe three houses #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #claudeleth #claude x byleth #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!byleth #fem!byleth #f!mu #pregnapping #kidnapping prompt #angst #hurt and comfort #OOOOHfdkjghkdfshgKSJDFh #angst for claude always hits so hard #hes just doing his best and we love him ;;;

[fe-fictions]

Can you maybe write/repost the dimileth pregnapping? It was my favorite :3 all of those byleth gets kidnapped while pregnant prompts were all rlly good but obvi the ones that had my best boys dimi, felix, and claude were my faves

(Aaah thank you!! Yes, please enjoy the reposting of the dimileth pregnapping! U V U )

One week.

‘Save me, Dimitri.’

Two. 

‘Save us, Dimitri.’

Three.

‘How can you not keep your own wife safe?’

Four weeks.

‘Your own child?’

One month. Then two. 

‘We needed you, Dimitri. You weren’t here.’

Two months and two weeks.

‘We needed you and now we’re going to die because you weren’t strong enough. You killed your family, Dimitri. You killed the last people who loved you.’

Three months.

The king, whom all had thought returned to his senses, was slowly, slowly…devolving into madness, once more. 

He was becoming a nightmare, a pale, trembling, unkempt, feral shell of a man. Every day that passed and he hadn’t brought you home…it was taking a serious toll on his body.

He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep.

His wife had been kidnapped, right from under his nose. 

The day had been a blur. 

You had only just told him of your pregnancy, that you were two months along and everything was good. That Mercedes suspected it would be a boy. A son.

Dimitri would be the father of your son.

He was over the moon; nothing could have made him happier in that moment. 

Then it all was shattered. You were returning to the monastery, and you hadn’t even made it half-way. A bloodied soldier had crawled back to the capital, wailing that the queen had been captured, her caravan massacred.

He and a few others were the only ones who survived.

It hadn’t even been a day. Dimitri had lost you in the span of a few hours.

And now, months had crawled past, and they still hadn’t found you.

He was an absolute wreck, and it showed. Dedue, who stood faithfully by his side, eyed the king warily as he stood over the maps of Fodlan, his hands clawed into the table as he stared at them madly, searching frantically for some place they hadn’t yet searched.

“What do I have to do…? What must I sacrifice before I find her? What more can I do?!” 

“Milord, you have done everything you can. All we have is the scouts, now. We must wait for their return, and then-”

“I can’t wait any longer!!” Dimitri bellowed, his hands raked through his hair as the panic overwhelmed him once again. “She’s out there- she’s out there, dead, for all we know, because I sent her off! I should never have let her leave. I should have kept her here, where she’s safe! I condemned her to death! I condemned our child!!”

“You couldn’t have known, milord-”

“I should have!!” His fists slammed against the table, and he crumbled. He broke down, again. “I…should have been the one to…”

“It couldn’t have been you, boar.”

Felix’s voice came from the doorway, a few other comrades watching with concern as Dimitri fell apart, once again.

“It’s those mages. They don’t care about you- they want Byleth’s blood. They did what they had to in order to get it. So for the love of gods, stop blaming yourself.”

“Felix…you know not of what you speak. I am the king- my power is absolute. Yet even that wasn’t enough to protect my own wife from certain death!!”

“You can’t know that she’s dead, Dimitri!” Annette argued, “Y-you can’t take that on yourself, not until you see it. But you won’t!! She’s not gone!!”

“And how…how could you possibly know that?” He hissed, looking to her with a glare that seemed to practically dare her to answer with anything but the correct words.

She stepped forward, producing one of your headpieces. A small, humble circlet, one that Dimitri had given her in the throws of war. One that you treasured and wore constantly, a sweet reminder of how dear his gifts were, to you.

One that now glowed with a strange aura, of a spell that Annette had cast.

“It’s a long shot, but…Mercedes and I found a spell in one of the library’s older tomes. A tracking spell. If we use this, we’ll be able to trace Byleth’s essence and find out exactly where they’re keeping her!”

“What…?” Dimitri stared at her, at a loss for words. He wanted so badly to scream at her. “Why…w-why didn’t you tell me this before? Why did you wait four damned months to show me-”

“Enough!!” Felix snapped at him, “You’re out of your  mind!! You think she was keeping that from you?! That she didn’t want you to know about it?! You think she wants to lose Byleth?! Find your head, you damn brute! She’s trying to save your wife!! She’s done more to help you than your constant abuse ever did!!”

“…How dare you say that to-”

“Can it.” He growled, “We’re going to find your wife. If you don’t calm down and find your sense, then you can stay here and pout like the brat you are.”

“Felix, he’s not a brat.” Mercedes chided him weakly, “He’s worried about her.”

“He’s taking it out on us, again. Just like before. I’m not going to stand for it. Either you find your head, or you stay here and wait.”

Felix knew he should’ve been beheaded, at this point. No one should talk to the king like that, and yet…someone had to do it.

Dimitri could only stare in awe, at a loss for words at the brash, cold confidence of his friend. Someone who had the guts to tell him to suck it up.

To silence the voices in his head.

He didn’t have to listen to them.

He wouldn’t.

He had let himself be distracted by them long enough. All he could think about was their words, the demons berating him for losing his beloved. But what good did it do?

Dimitri exhaled shakily, giving a solemn nod. “No, he’s…right.”

“W-what?”

“He’s right. Callous and cruel…but he’s right.” Dimitri swallowed, “I want to go. I must. Byleth needs me. Pouring over maps and sending out scouts, praying for an answer…I’ve done this for too long. If that spell brings me straight to Byleth, then…I’ll take it.”

Felix scoffed, motioning for Dimitri to join them.

“Then let’s get moving.”

Annette had everything ready to go within moments. Lysithea had come to lend a hand with her magic skill, Mercedes and Marianne, everyone who knew anything about the darker arts (even if it was just a pinch or even less), pouring all their power into tracking you down.

Another day couldn’t pass. It wouldn’t.

Dimitri watched as they worked, having found his lance and holding it tightly, his silent gaze boring holes into their backs as he waited.

One hour. 

‘It won’t work.’

Two.

‘You won’t find us in time. You’ve wasted so much, already.’

Three hours, four.

‘Our blood is on your hands, beloved. Our blood is-’

“There she is!!!”

He rocketed up from his seat, striding to the soothsayer’s bowl they had been slaving over. There, in the mist that emanated from your circlet…a base.

Small, underground, and undoubtedly in the former Empire’s territory.

But you were there.

His hand came to his mouth, finding your image in the smoke.

You were huddled in a corner, your hands held against your middle. You had grown. The baby was growing. You were both alive.

Oh gods, you were still alive.

“She’s there…!” He breathed, brow furrowed as he tried to keep his composure. “Oh, goddess…w-we must go.”

“We don’t have a precise location…not yet. Give us a few minutes more.”

“That’s enough time to rally the troops.” Felix pointed out, and Dedue was turning on his heel, heading for the courtyards to gather the soldiers. 

“Everyone, find your strongest armor.  Your sharpest weapons! We will move forward the instant the queen is found! We wait no longer- we save her, today!!”

The Blue Lions had never been more proud of their king. That fire in his eyes, that of a king, of a husband…of a father…he was ready to put everything he had into bringing you home, no matter the cost. He wasn’t giving up.

He wasn’t going to let himself fall into the darkness.

He was bringing you home.

————————-

The remains of the Adrestian Empire were little more than a shadow of its former greatness. Dimitri, however, was ready to turn it all to ash.

The base they had found was located deep below the earth, under what was once the royal family’s castle.

They moved quietly, and quickly down the steps, deep into the belly of the castle. They remained on high alert, silent until they found the first unfortunate Snake.

He was cut down just as the alarm was sounded.

Dimitri wasted no time forcing the Lions forward, barreling through the corridors and flooding the once grand creation with a mob of soldiers that wanted nothing than to destroy its remains.

You were here. Locked in a cell, cold and alone and afraid and hurt.

The mother of his child. 

There wouldn’t be enough blood in the world to atone the crimes they committed against the king’s dearest love.

No, he cursed, tearing apart the prison once they found it.

No, he promised, ripping each cell door open as the others frantically tried to find the one you were in.

No.

“D…Dimitri…?”

Not anymore.

“Byleth??”

Your name was a gasp on his lips, and he rushed to the cell in the furthest corner, concealed in a darkness not even he could see through. Sylvain’s torch illuminated the place a moment later, and there you were.

In the flash and flicker of the flames, he saw you. 

Oh, his poor wife.

He tore the door from its hinges with an inhuman sound, flinging it away. You could only stare at him, mouth falling open as he rushed to your side. 

Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek. Was it a dream?

“Dimitri.”

Once,  you called his name.

“Byleth…you’re…y-you’re here.”

“Dimitri…”

Twice.

His brow furrowed, the cloak falling around you both as he took you in, pulling you into his chest as he cradled you for the first time in months. Months.

“I’m here. We’re all here…we’re…here.”

“D-Dima…”

Three times.

He clung to you as you cried, tears of relief dripping down your cheeks. He held you as closely as possible, determined never to let you from his sight again.

Never to let such harm befall you.

For a few moments, all you could do was hang onto your husband, letting him gingerly turn you so that you leaned against his chest, so that the others could come to you and tend to your wounds.

Mercedes and Marianne tended you through tears of their own, thanking the Goddess that you were all right.

You were underweight considering how far along you were in the pregnancy, they had told you. But you weren’t too worried. 

You knew Dedue would take care of you and fix that in no time. 

Once you were cleared to walk, Dimitri had you draped in his cloak, its warmth a welcome comfort from the cold hell you had suffered through for so long.

Despite Flayn’s assurance that you would be fine, Dimitri still carried you from the dungeon, back into the light of the world.

He had let you go once, he explained bluntly, pressing on much to the exasperation and unamusement of some of his friends (Felix…Seteth…).

You pressed your face against his neck, clinging to the fabrics even as he mounted his steed, and began the journey home.

He had let you go, once, he murmured, his lips in your hair. He would never let it happen again. Not to either of you.

The promise was whispered, his hand against your baby bump, the other holding you close to his heart. 

There would never be any fear of the Archbishop being stolen. Now that Dimitri was permanently posted by your side, and especially once your dearest son was born. 

Nothing could pry him from you, come hell or high water.

Your guardian angel.

Your most precious lion.

#dimitri #byleth #fe3h #fe 16 #fire emblem three houses #dimileth #dimitri x byleth #pregnancy angst #kidnapping angst #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!byleth #fem!byleth #f!mu #one of the classics

[fe-fictions]

Can we please get a Frederick/Robin pregnapping prompt? I know you've done this kind of story for them before but I don't think you've done the pregnapping one yet!

(I officially have now, and it is,,, a doozey SDFKSDJFKDFdsfdsf)

You weren’t sure why he had called you into his office with such excitement, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes told you this was no joke. He couldn’t wait to show you this “surprise” he had for you.

What confused you was that he handed you a small pamphlet. It didn’t seem particularly remarkable, just a few charts and marks scribbled here and there. 

Your husband-turned-puppy Frederick pointed to the top of the chart. “It’s a growth calendar. For our Morgan.”

Your eyebrows rose, pleasantly surprised. You didn’t know such a thing existed. Frederick continued with a grin, “With this, we’ll be able to follow Morgan’s development week by week, and we can compare how much he is growing, as well as what we can expect for you during the pregnancy.”

“How sweet,” You smiled softly, holding it closer to inspect the writing. It was definitely put together by a doctor; it was not easy to read. Perhaps Libra had put it together at Frederick’s request. 

You were surrounded by human angels, after all.

“I know that it is still early, but now that the first trimester is nearly over, you will begin to show more. And with that, we will be able to really track how Morgan grows and how your body will change. The more that we know, the better prepared we will be. I’ll be able to keep both of you safe and comfortable, until he’s born.”

“You do a fine job of that, already. Do we really need a little chart to keep track of that?” You wondered, though you did spot that week 8 of your pregnancy meant Morgan was currently the size of a raspberry. Frederick had circled that one with great enthusiasm.

He found it as cute as you did, you were sure.

“Perhaps it is not necessary, but it is still good to have. And it is nice to know exactly how Morgan is growing, as your pregnancy continues…even if it is a little silly.”

“I think it’s very sweet, dear. Thank you for showing this to me. It’ll be great fun!” You grinned at him, taking his hand with a soft squeeze, “Though I suppose it won’t be so much fun while I’m tracking it on my own.”

Frederick nodded, his smile fading just a touch. Chrom had some important excursions planned, which would mean Frederick and many of the Shepherds would be leaving the castle for a few weeks, at least. 

“It does pain me to miss an extended period of your pregnancy…I worry about leaving you alone, even if you are in the hands of our capable clerics.”

“At least it will only be a short while, right?” You reminded him as he guided you from the office, heading down the corridor. 

“I intend to shorten this scuffle to two weeks, at least.” He explained, looking quite determined. “Lord Chrom has received word of Grimleal movement on the border, and he doesn’t want to risk any sudden uprisings that would put Ylisse at risk.”

“They’re like cockroaches…we never seem to be truly rid of them.” You sighed. 

They were not cropping up as frequently, he had assured you upon returning, but every now and then another troupe would appear…and when such a thing happened, then they needed to be dealt within a very serious, lethal fashion.

Frederick vowed he would not stop his pursuit until all of them were gone. If not for Ylisse….for his wife. If you were still being targeted, and you were hurt because of his carelessness, or worse….

Gods, the mere thought of it twisted his stomach into dreadful knots.

“Well, you’ll be departing tomorrow, and then we’ll just count down two weeks…and then you’ll be home, unscathed, and Morgan will get to see you again.”

“By then, he’ll be the size of a fig!” Frederick hummed, and the grin on his lips had instantly returned.

You laughed, “Yes, I suppose he won’t be a little berry anymore, will he?”

“He will always be our little berry, Robin.” The knight reminded you with utter sincerity. The two of you were practically glowing, basking in the tender happiness that came with a growing family.

Though it was short-lived. Reaching the throne room, you found Chrom and Sumia looking quite troubled. 

“It’s the Grimleal,” Chrom began when the doors shut tight behind you. “They’re making movements into Ylisse.”

“They wouldn’t dare be so aggressive. They’re on their last leg.” Frederick spoke in disbelief. 

“They’ve been navigating through underground passages and trails typically used by criminals, to avoid law enforcement. However, it seems like they’re making a beeline for the capital.”

“Are you sure?” You looked to Sumia following her explanation, and her normally sweet face was solemn.

“We can’t know for sure where they are right now, but we’ve already deployed several undercover squadrons to investigate the seedier sides of Ylisse. I’m sure they know what they’re looking for, but I’d rather not wait for them to get here and try to wage some sort of war on the castle’s footsteps.”

“I understand.” 

“If you have the mind to do so, Frederick, we could depart today.” Chrom offered, “You’re right about the time constraint. The sooner we’re out there, the sooner we stop them.”

You shared a look. Leaving today…so suddenly. It was already going to be a likely lengthy mission, and neither of you were thrilled with the idea. However, it needed to be dealt with swiftly.

“At least, if that’s all right with you.” Chrom gestured to you, a soft smile on his face. He’d been informed of the news only a couple weeks ago. 

It gave you some solace, knowing he hadn’t made the suggestion lightly.

“You should go.” The small nod was enough, and the two men completed the rest of the meeting details shortly after.

Naturally the two of you made haste to return back to your quarters, and you helped him pack in preparation for what was surely going to be a difficult task.

If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was sulking, seeing how he’d be missing some key weeks of your son’s development.

But it would be all right, you assured him, you would hardly have changed much in two weeks. You promised to share all the details of what was going on when he came home.

That night, a lingering kiss touched your lips, Frederick pulling you flush into his embrace. You watched after the Shepherds as they left, Sumia standing beside you as the troupe of soldiers rode off.

It was a little frightening, knowing the Grimleal had come so close to Ylisstol. You didn’t like the implication, almost as much as Frederick hated the idea of leaving you behind.

But it would be all right.

That’s what you hoped for.

-------------------------

Week 9 of your pregnancy was fairly uneventful. You spent most of it attached to Sumia’s hip, the two of you reading over dozens of romance novels when you had time to spare between duties. Without Frederick or Chrom there to keep you focused, it was quite frequent you could slip away together.

You were starting to enjoy the time with your dear friend, even if your thoughts drifted to your husband often. 

He was fighting so hard, all the time. Back in the heat of battle to protect the kingdom was valiant. You were so proud of him, knowing he did it for his family just as well for the crown.

You promised to do the same at home, prioritizing Sumia’s safety as her right hand and dear friend. Thankfully it would be straightforward, seeing as things would remain quite peaceful from here. The threat was being neutralized far from the castle.

You laid your worries to rest. If there was something bound to go wrong, you thought, it should have happened by now.

The end of the week came and went. The baby was now the size of a cherry.

That was the end of your reprieve.

The dawn of your tenth week of pregnancy was met with chaos in the dead of night. 

Shrieks from handmaids echoed through the halls of the castle, where hundreds of knights lay poisoned and debilitated at the feet of the queen.

The Grimleal had slipped in, unnoticed.

When it happened, you were alone with Sumia, going over plans for reconstruction late into the night. 

The first hint something was wrong was a dull thud outside the door. The knight stationed there had collapsed. 

“Oh!!” Sumia gasped, darting over in a panic.

She reached for him, and was suddenly caught by a gloved hand.

You didn’t even have a moment to respond. Sumia was frozen in the hands of a stranger. A knife was pressed to her throat. 

Panic choked you.

“Tactician,” The man spoke coolly, his face obscured by his cowl. “Come with us, or we take the queen.”

“What?!” Sumia tensed, staring at you. Your stance was firm, fingers twitching for the tome at your side. If you couldn’t fire a spell faster than that knife touched her skin, it was too dangerous.

“What do you want with me?”

“You come with us, or we take the queen.” He repeated. “We will burn down the castle and everyone in it.” 

Sumia shook her head, panic flickering in her eyes. You couldn’t go.

You couldn’t go.

“Don’t hurt her.” 

Your voice trembled.  Sumia’s face paled when you stepped forward.

“Robin, you can’t!”

“If you swear to leave this place peacefully, without harming her or anyone else…I’ll go with you.”

You couldn’t know if they actually had plans to destroy the castle. It was likely a fool’s bluff. But they did have Sumia. You weren’t going to risk losing her. 

The kingdom couldn’t lose another queen.

Stepping past them, you presented your hands to be chained. Another Grimleal appeared, and another. A signal spell launched past the windows, a black flare.

Long fingers pulled you forcefully through the corridors. A spell enveloped the troupe of heretics, the castle suddenly growing hazy.

They were taking you away.

It was the last you’d see of your home.

-------------------------

They weren’t close enough to the capital to see the flare. It was Stahl, barreling down the path in a wild panic.

“Lord Chrom- the castle-- t-they breached the castle!!”

“What?!” 

Impossible.

Frederick’s horse was galloping before the word was uttered. His heart lurched in his chest, fear draining the exhaustion and replacing it with icy panic. 

Chrom and the Shepherds were right behind him. The capital was another twenty minutes away, at least.

The castle would be another- gods, why did it have to be so far away?!

“How did this happen!?” Chrom demanded, “We routed them and cleared the tunnels hours ago!!”

“It was an ambush. They waited until the castle was vulnerable, until you were all far enough away that they could breach without resistance.”

“Gods- Sumia, a-and Lucina!! Are they safe?!”

“The royal family is secure.” Stahl informed him, hesitance lacing his words. The horses were urged faster. “But it’s because that’s not who the Grimleal were after.”

The captain nearly fell from his saddle.

Chrom’s face paled. 

“You don’t mean...”

Frederick looked back, finding dread in Stahl’s eyes when he looked to his captain.

“Forgive me, Captain.” 

“No.” 

His hands went slack, Hebert grinding to a halt. 

“No...”

The world closed around him. 

“They came for Robin.”

-------------------------

Week 10 saw the family in chaos. Frederick had rushed to Sumia with Chrom at his side. Sumia told them tearfully of what you did.

You agreed to go with them. You sacrificed yourself to protect the queen.

Frederick should have been proud of you. He knew that.

He should have been proud that his pregnant wife had sacrificed herself for the kingdom.

‘Damn the kingdom,’ He thought, fingers curled into bleeding fists. ‘Damn the kingdom to Hell, if this is what it means to protect it!!’

His thoughts would need prayer, he knew in the back of his dark mind.  The church would need a visit.

That would come later.

The focus needed to be squarely on bringing you home.

They escaped with magic, Sumia informed them quietly. They appeared in the blink of an eye, incapacitated the staff, and threw the flare into the sky just as they teleported away.

Nobody would know what happened until magic residue was traced and identified. 

Until then, he could do little more than wait. Tharja was the lead on the case, now. If he had any affinity, he would be right with her.

So, instead, he was relegated to worrying.

Worrying.

The week his child grew to the size of a fig, was spent anxiously pacing through all hours of the day and night.

Training was haphazard and poor.

His sleep was impossible to come by. Eating was foreign. Not even Chrom could convince him of anything productive. Not when things were like this.

The castle staff politely looked away when they heard the sobs through the office door, late into the night.

Many nights.

-------------------------

Week 11; a glimmer.

A small glimmer, according to Tharja, but there was something they had come upon that had potential. Miriel was able to identify the fraction of magic particles left behind, not far from the queen’s office you had been stolen from. It had been nearly impossible to locate; the Grimleal had done their very best to get away unnoticed.

It wasn’t much, Tharja had murmured when the Exalt and his right hand stepped into the mage tower. She seemed more talking to herself. Dark circles under her eyes matched Frederick’s.

“When will we know?”

“I don’t know.” Tharja hissed, glaring at Chrom, “If I knew, you think I’d hide it from you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re working as hard as you can. I’m just...we’re all just worried.”

She did not answer. 

The tension was palpable, growing with every passing hour through the castle. Word of your kidnapping had reached the rest of the capital, beyond the nobility who were to keep it quiet as long as possible.

But now that everyone knew, the pressure was on.

Frederick could not stand the pitying looks from knights and messengers that passed through the gates each day.

Empty prayers for your safety and health, inquiries of the investigation, of his own well-being.

His well-being? Pah.

It consisted of clinging to your pillow each night, sleeplessly staring into the darkness and imagining the worst.

You were so vulnerable. His child….his Morgan….

He would be the size of a date, now.

He did not know why he kept checking that damned pamphlet. It did not help him. It only twisted the knife deeper. He was missing everything.

But worse than that.

He was losing everything.

The thirteenth week came, with little fanfare or enthusiasm. Ricken and Panne were conscripted into helping the mages with their tracking work. 

Panne would scout out potential leads, in search of a trail to follow.

Frederick had offered to join her several times; each one rejected by Chrom. 

They both knew if he caught even a whiff of a path to finding you, Frederick would be galloping full steam ahead, alone and charging to certain death to find you.

His worry continued to grow. His mental wellbeing had declined rapidly; the hopes that he would have you home sooner rather than later died about a week earlier. 

At this rate you could very well give birth to your child without him there. 

The child had grown to the size of a peapod. He would continue to grow every passing day that Frederick was not there.

The captain decided to blow off some steam at the training grounds. His anxiety made his attacks unforgiving.

He ripped apart numerous training dummies.

Splinters flew across the training grounds. Soldiers worried for their captain, who continued to struggle eating or sleeping through his days.

He was having nightmares about you.

How could he rest? Let alone when he should be focusing his efforts on your rescue, not his health.

His health mattered less than anything, right now.

“I’m sorry.”

Chrom’s quiet voice interrupted his violent excuse for training. A young squire stood beside him, clearly having informed the Exalt that Frederick was doing poorly.

Said knight did not look back. He set his polearm back on the weapons rack.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Robin is a dear friend, but I…know it would be foolish to even attempt to claim I understand how you’re feeling.”

“It has been too long, milord.” Frederick’s voice was hoarse, and low. Dangerous. “We are wasting precious time, and the health of my family is hanging in the balance, and how…how have we not found them, yet?”

“I wish I knew.” Chrom frowned deeply, observing the beast Frederick had turned into from a safe distance. 

His hands were visibly shaking, even in the dark of night.

“Everyone’s working as hard as they can. The instant we have a location, we’ll be on top of it. I’ve got a battalion standing by for that very moment.”

“Every second that she is not found is a second wasted!”

“I understand, Frederick, but our hands are tied until the trace comes through. We have to wait until-”

“To Hell with waiting!”

The dummy flew across the field, ripped from its post. Chrom flinched, watching the splinters scatter across the ground.

Frederick’s hands were bare of a weapon.

He was out of patience.

“Damn waiting, damn the Grimleal-- damn it all!!” He cursed, forgetting himself.

He stared at Chrom, his chest heaving, hands trembling.

A heavy silence passed between them, a grieving husband allowed to collect his thoughts even as they overwhelmed him.

“She’ll be showing, soon. If they find out she’s pregnant, what will they do? What if they took her because they already knew? Because she was a vessel, a-and because they think Morgan can replace her?”

The pacing increased. The shadows of his face revealed a gaunt, blurry figure of what the strong knight had once been. He wasn’t taking care of himself.

“We can’t know for sure. But if she hasn’t started to show, or if they haven’t figured it out, then we still have time, so we’ll use it to the best of our ability.”

“It is taking too long.” Frederick looked at him, despairing. “I worry for her every second we don’t have her back. I don’t know what else to do.”

“I am so sorry, Frederick. There isn’t anything else we can do. We have to trust Tharja and the others.”

“Why...why can’t we do more?” Frederick’s voice cracked.

His hand covered his face, but the tears stained the ground at his feet. Chrom shook his head. He drew Frederick into his embrace, holding his oldest friend.

It was something Frederick had done for him through many nightmares in his childhood. It was only natural the favor be returned, especially in his darkest moments.

-------------------------

Week 12 passed silently. 

Frederick’s grip on sanity seemed to be falling to shreds with each passing failure, but he did not take it out on anyone in that room. Tharja was working around the clock, and he was there to provide support.

He would continue to take his grief out on the fields, on lon grides with Hebert, or in the silence of his office.

The pamphlet was well worn, crinkled and marred from wet tears and trembling fingers.

Chrom could only do so much. Sumia did her best to comfort him, but there was only so much they could do. 

Morgan was now the size of a lime.

He was growing much too quickly, and if the dread that seemed to thicken in his chest every morning was to be considered, you were surely showing, by now. 

If he was not training or busying himself, or doing something else that signaled his anxiety, he was pacing outside of the mage’s room, in full armor and sword gripped at his side in case Tharja sprung out with an answer.

“You’ve not touched the last two plates, Frederick. You have to eat something.” 

The princess’ voice earned a glance, but little more.

“I am not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in days!” Lissa argued, setting it down on the bench. “It’s not going to do Robin any good if you collapse from malnutrition! She needs you at full strength. We all do!”

This seemed to do something to his thought process, at least. He took the plate up and looked at it, hard. As though the meat and gravy might hold some missing clue.

“You…are right, milady. Forgive me.”

Lissa smiled softly at her knight, who finally stopped his pacing and sat down. 

“Nobody blames you for how you’re feeling. You’re doing your best despite the awful circumstances.” 

She rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, with an expression she had not seen in years. Not since Emmeryn’s sacrifice. 

“I do not know what to do anymore.”

“I don’t think any of us do. Not until we hear from Tharja…”

“It’s been 13 weeks.”

“C’mon, it hasn’t been that long, Freddy-”

“It’s been 13 weeks that Robin has been pregnant. She will be showing, and more vulnerable than ever.” He sighed shakily, “She has continued to grow with Morgan, and I…I have been here. Stuck.”

“Yeah…” Lissa trailed off, sitting down beside him. “But…y’know, I’m sure she knows she isn’t all alone. She knows you’re looking for her. She knows you’ll rescue her.”

“Robin has never needed rescuing.” He mumbled to himself, “She is capable in so many ways, far more so than I. Perhaps she has found a way out, herself. My greatest fear is finding those bastards, only to discover the fort has been empty for weeks.”

Lissa giggled, “Maybe she’s on her way back right now, dressed in Plegian clothes and riding a wyvern home!”

“Perhaps that would not be the worst outcome. Though she should not ride a wyvern. It is dangerous for the baby if she were to be airborne at this stage.”

“Good point. Ooh, maybe she finds some sort of carriage, or something that she can-”

“I found it.”

The doors were flung open, startling the conversation to a halt.

Frederick rose from his seat, the plate of food smashing to pieces on the floor. 

No one seemed to notice. Tharja, whose chest heaved with shuddering anticipation, commanded attention with those few words.

“I found the fortress.”

Lissa gasped, “Where?!”

“It is on the northwestern end of Plegia- near the ocean. I have reason to suspect they want to take her back to Valm.”

“Not Valm,” Miriel spoke up behind her, a map  unfurled from her hands. “They want to take her back to the island. Where Grima was defeated.”

Frederick was sprinting down the corridor.

Tharja was close behind. A shared horror and focus was worn on their exhausted faces. They knew the stakes.

Chrom and the Shepherds were assembled with great haste; they had coordinates and a promising lead where the Plegians were, if they moved fast enough. Stahl brought the concern up of them potentially teleporting to the island, like they had when they invaded the castle.

Henry was giddy to explain that such magic takes months to recover; especially with more people being transported from one spot to another.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t need ships or a coastline hideout.

Frederick would not wait for his son to develop any further without him. He would not let you go through this alone, anymore.

He was coming for you.

-------------------------

The Plegian coast was blocked from the desert by high mountains; even with spells enhancing their speed of travel, they still needed two days to reach their destination.

But now, Frederick had something to focus his fear on.

Any potential spies or Grimleal blocking their path were dispatched ferociously.

They would not be allowed time to contact their fellow cult members; they would work quietly to close in on their destination

A place which, unfortunately, was well hidden.

But not the incorrect location that Tharja warned it could be. The location had an extremely high probability, but it was not possible to be certain.

Frederick would not entertain that.

It was certain. He could feel it.

You had to be there.

“Captain!!”

Cordelia’s voice overhead rang out, her lance pointed dead ahead. “We have visual confirmation!”

“Evasive maneuvers,” Frederick ordered, “We go in quietly!”

Thankfully the quiet would be short-lived.

Tharja and Henry found an opening on the south end of the fort. A concealment spell shrouded them in invisibility.

It would be brief, but enough to get them where they needed to go. 

And then, all nine of the Hells would be unleashed.

Chrom commanded the group to split into respective squads. Frederick helmed his own team consisting of Tharja, Maribelle and Vaike. The rest divided up and headed to their destinations, effectively surrounding the fortress. 

As soon as the spell waned, the assault began.

Panicked screams from Grimleal were choked out by lance and blade alike, Chrom’s forward charge drawing the most attention.

He did not hesitate, which gave Frederick more focus towards finding you rather than fight. He felt little more than searing rage, charging into every dark mage that would challenge him.

His reckless abandon caused unnecessary damage to his armor, but he didn’t notice. A few scrapes and gashes could be remedied.

Returning home without you would be the end of him.

“Frederick- we should start lookin’ now! I’m seein’ a lot of rooms ahead and I’m sure she’s in one of’em!”

“It would be too easy to keep her on the first floor.” Frederick replied sharply, “We clear the floor and head below, understand?”

The order was followed through without hesitation.

Frederick’s heart was thundering in his chest, feeling the anxiety of the mission start to creep in, where he had suppressed it with anger, before.

The glimmer of hope that he would finally bring you home was starting to be overrun with the doubt of Tharja’s warning. If you weren’t here…

“Intruders!! Alert the Head Priest, before they find- gahhh!” 

Frederick retracted his lance with a wet squelch and deadly glare. 

“She’s here.”

“Good.” Maribelle nodded, turning her mare with a sharp pull on the reins, “Let’s go, quickly! Vaike, the doors!”

Frederick and Vaike were a pair of barbarians, shredding through the doors that didn’t open willingly.

Each room was empty, though Tharja reminded them to have some caution, seeing as there could be a trove of valuable information inside them that would be a terrible loss if they were destroyed.

Frederick would rather set it all ablaze, but…it didn’t seem to matter too much at this point. 

You weren’t filling any of the rooms. It was as he expected, but a pleasant surprise in finding you inside one of them here rather than elsewhere was preferred. 

Another corridor, a few more Grimleal. 

So many empty rooms. Frederick burst down the hall ahead of Vaike. If he could peer into the rooms, it would be far faster than wasting energy breaking down doors first.

Some of them had small panes, though they were hard to see through.

Your husband would not miss the sight of you, though. Not when the stakes were so high.

He raced past them, leaving his comrades in the dust, sprinting after you. Faster still, he ran, calling after you until his voice was hoarse.

He prayed you could hear him. You had to hear him. There was nothing he could do if you weren’t-

He froze. On a chair in the corner of the room in front of him.

Your coat.

Frederick slammed into the door, staring into it. A dark room, antique in its design and poorly maintained.

A bed, which was filled.

He banged on the door, hard, trying to rouse the sleeping form inside.

Goddess, he hoped you were sleeping.

“Robin!! ROBIN!!” 

“Maribelle- I think he found her!”

“Ahead, there!”

He grabbed his axe, crashing it violently through the door. He ripped that pathetic plank of wood to shreds.

‘Come down, dammit-’ His motions were sloppy, desperate. He was so close. ‘Come down!!’

The violence came to a stop, eventually. He panted in the doorway, peering inside. The figure had moved.

They were standing on the other side of the bed, furthest from him.

“Hah…Robin?”

“F-Frederick?’ Oh.

His eyes widened. 

It had been so long since he heard your voice.

“Robin?!”

Too long.

The axe fell from his hands. He rushed across the room in three long strides. You stumbled around the bed towards him, tears brimming in your eyes.

You looked pale- you looked tired, and frightened, and strained, but-

“Robin!!” 

You were back in his arms.

Frederick pulled you full force into his embrace, clutching onto you tightly. He enveloped you wholly, incapable of letting you go any longer.

You trembled against his chest plate, the damned thing making it nearly impossible to feel your warmth. Shaking fingers reached for his face; they were cold. 

He squeezed you tightly, burying his face in your hair. He could not pull back yet.

“Thank the gods…thank the gods, you’re alive-! You’re here!!” He whispered fiercely, tears spilling down his cheeks.

He was overwhelmed. The whole world was silent around you.

He was holding his world here, now, in his arms.

At last.

You were the one who had to gently pull back, at the very least so you might look at your rescuer’s face. 

He seemed unable to peel his gaze from yours, looking you over a dozen times in rapid succession, searching for something that could possibly, even slightly potentially, be wrong.

“You found me,” Your voice was so soft.

His breath shuddered, but he nodded, pressing his hands to your cheeks, rubbing at the grime and salty tracks that lined it.

An emotionless laugh escaped him. He had not been taking care of himself at all, you observed.

You could only imagine the mess of man beneath the armor, but his gaunt face and unmanaged stubble…he looked so tired. 

You weren’t suffering alone.

“We’re okay, I think.” You murmured, a hand on your belly. “They…didn’t find out.”

“They didn’t? About the…” He trailed off, following your hand. He gingerly pressed his over yours, feeling the baby bump.

Your skin had become tighter, your stomach more rounded. You weren’t showing enough that a coat could not conceal it. 

He had never felt such a wave of relief crash over him before. 

“Did they torture you? Did they harm you in any way?” He demanded urgently, hands on your shoulders. “Maribelle! Tharja, where are you?”

You looked past Frederick to find a troupe of emotional Shepherds rushing in behind him, one with a heavy stave in hand.

“They did not torture me…not physically. They kept watch over me, would speak to me sometimes…but it’s not anything particularly threatening. Not that I can think of, anyways.”

“Don’t think on it, now.” Maribelle stepped in, gently taking you from Frederick’s grasp into her own. “Chrom and the others are still securing the upstairs; let me administer some first aid to get you out of here, and we can do a proper physical on you once we’re somewhere safer.”

“I will guard the gates.” Tharja glowered, “I will not let anyone come near."

“Thank you,” You smiled softly at her. Tharja’s heart twisted; it was such a strained, weak smile. She did not like it. 

Without another word she turned and left, with Vaike offering you a relieved grin before following after her. He’d tease you, later.

For now, it was clear you needed your cleric and your husband on hand, first.

Frederick, naturally, would not have let go of your hand even if Naga tried to pull it from him.

He sat beside you on the bed, watching intently as Maribelle did her best. When she cleared you to be escorted from the palace…well, she meant you could walk on your own and be all right.

Frederick interpreted this as he could pick you up and carry you out.

Like hells you were going to do anything on your feet, after all that.

He held you tightly, whisking you from the room and hurrying as best he could to get you out before someone else showed up to try and take you back.

Thankfully, that moment would not come.

The fortress was secured shortly after his team left, reaching a fair distance from the damnable place before setting up a spot for camp.

He wouldn’t even leave your side for a safety patrol, nor to inform Chrom that you were secured. That would be for the others.

His place- his duty- was to be by your side.

-------------------------

“It was my lineage.” 

Chrom was standing across from you, his arms crossed tight over your chest. Frederick’s was, instinctively, around your shoulders. You needed it.

“They found out that I returned from Naga, and…well, as soon as it happened, they were looking for me.”

Chrom sighed, “So they set a trap? They lured us out and threatened to take Sumia if you didn’t comply?”

You nodded softly, taking hold of Frederick’s hand and squeezing it gently. He linked his fingers together with yours, kissing your temple gently.

“Yes, so...I complied. But you all were able to rescue me, and Maribelle gave me a full exam and said I'll be fine after a long recovery, so…” 

“I believe that’s the end of it, for now. The clerics said she needs to rest as much as possible before we’re really in the clear in regards to her health.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Chrom agreed, “I’ll let you tend to your wife. If either of you need anything, do not hesitate to call. We won’t be far, this time.”

Frederick saw his lord out with a deep bow of gratitude. He closed the door with a soft click, before returning to his wife. Your hand rested on your stomach, again.

“Maribelle told me I’ll need to rest for a long time. It’s still fairly early in the pregnancy, and it could be bad for Morgan if I strain myself more than I already have…with what happened.”

“My love.”

You fell into his arms, letting him lower you onto the bed. His fingers traced over your hand, though it was still far too early for the baby to do anything. Just feeling that he was still there was enough, for you both.

You looked up at him, finding the troubling expression that worried his brow

“...I’m sorry, Frederick. I….shouldn’t have let them take me.”

He didn’t speak, his brow furrowing deeper.

“If Ylisse lost another Exalt, I couldn’t imagine the damage it would cause. And Chrom- what would happen if he lost someone else dear to him?”

“What would happen if I lost two dear ones?” Frederick held your hand to his lips. He was trembling. 

A pang struck your heart. Of course he was shaking. 

“You must have been so worried.” You murmured weakly, a crack in your voice. He looked at you, his eyes becoming misty all over again.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m so, so sorry. I just knew that it was what I had to do.”

“I cannot say that I would not have done the same. Our duty to the crown comes first, for better or worse. But….Robin, I…I-I have never been more afraid in my life until I realized I might lose you and Morgan.”

“I know. I was so scared, when I thought that,” You choked up, feeling that knot of fear you tried so hard to suppress for the last four weeks.

Four weeks.

Maybe it was time to let it go, just a little bit.

“I was so scared that I would lose the baby. Or that, when you found me, it would be too late. For one of us, or both, or… I couldn’t let that get to me, b-because the stress would be worse for Morgan, and I…just…f-felt so badly, knowing what it must have been doing to you.”

“I am not the victim.” Frederick shook his head, taking in as deep a breath as he could. You needed to be calm. He needed to be calm.

“You were the target. I am sure that even if you had not gone in Sumia’s place, they would have found another way to take you.”

“I just wish it hadn’t happened at all.”

“We all do.” He pulled you into his chest, cradling you close. His fingers ran through your hair, fending off the well of sorrow that threatened to spill over, again.

Enough tears, he thought, had been shed.

“But we are all right, now. And I can promise you that this will never, ever happen again. I won’t leave your side for the rest of the pregnancy, and then some. I will protect you both until the very end.”

“Hey…” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I know you will. But, maybe we should stop talking about, um, the ‘very end’, okay?”

“Of course.” He touched his fingers to your chin, guiding you to a proper kiss. And another…and another…another….

There were far too many kisses to catch up on. Each more desperate and longing than the last. He had been so worried, negged by the possibility that he may very well not be able to do it ever again.

But you were here, now. In his arms and reciprocating every touch with equal passion.

It seemed he was not alone in his frightened feelings.

“I love you, Robin. So much.” He murmured against your lips, “I am so very glad you are safe.”

“Thank you for saving me,” You replied sweetly, pushing away the little droplets at the corner of your eye. His smile was sad and weak, but he did not speak a word of it.

Now that you were in front of him, those fears could fade away. At least, for a little while.

“I would have crossed mountains and oceans for you.” He reminds you solemnly, “I only wish I could have done it much, much sooner.”

“Me, too.” You sighed against him, cuddling into him. You nuzzled into his neck, hugging him as tightly as you could. 

“You know…I believe our baby has grown a lot.”

“How big is he, now?”

“If I recall correctly, Morgan is the size of a lemon.”

You choked out a quiet sob. “T-that’s a lot bigger than a berry.”

“Just a little bit,” He comforted you, squeezing you close. He cradled your head, pressing kisses to your skin. “Only a little.”

He was not going to let another moment pass either of you by; that much he swore up and down, he would not let Morgan grow another millimeter without being there with you.

The return home took a couple of days, not wishing to take any risks with your fragile state. Tharja and Henry were able to smooth over any unrest from Plegian nobles, unhappy with Ylisse’s unprompted invasion into their territory.

Seeing what the stakes were like, it seemed there wouldn’t need much apology beyond economic and a few diplomatic favors for allowing them to charge into battle on Plegian soil.

You were back in Ylisse on the cusp of the fifteenth week, and immediately committed to bed rest for the foreseeable future.

Frederick would be sure to supply you with all the books you could ever want; as well as a special schedule approved by Chrom that would let him spend as much time as necessary on leave from his duties until you were in a state that he was satisfied with.

It would take another few weeks, at least. 

Of course, Frederick would not leave you at a single moment, unless it came to weeding out potential rats or security threats that could spell another attempt to take his wife.

Other than that, though…your days were replaced with plenty of rest, and comfort, and an infinite supply of attention from the man who adored his family more than anything in the world.

-------------------------

On Week 38, a healthy baby boy was born to Frederick and Robin.

No other kidnappings, no complications, nothing but peace.

He was, indeed, still your little berry.

#frederick #robin #morgan #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fredrobin #frederick x robin #kidnapping angst #kidnapping prompt #kidnap prompt #pregnapped #pregnancy angst #pregnancy prompt #hurt and comfort #jesus the angst in this one is intense #fe-fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu