Robin sat up in bed, and clutched the covers. He gasped for breath over and over as he tried to still his heartbeat.
Tharja stirred, from where she had been nestled beside him.
"What is it, love? If someone else has cursed you, I will certainly make them pay..."
"No, it's not..." Robin held his hand to his chest. Each rise and fall was more desperate than the last.
"Take a moment, dear," Tharja said, but there was an edge to it. "If you need, I will get some herbs to help you."
"I'm all right. It's just--just a dream."
Tharja narrowed her eyes in the kind of way which usually spelled death, or at least massive amounts of cursing to whoever was the recipient of such a look.
"Whoever sent you this nightmare will wish for death by the time I'm done for them."
"It was...me," Robin said in a very small voice.
"You?"
"I was Grima. I saw it all. Ylissetol being destroyed. Even worse, I enjoyed it. I took pleasure in all their suffering, their deaths."
"That Robin was defeated."
"Only temporarily, though," Robin said.
"We have been through this over and over. You made the right choice then. I wouldn't forgive such utter foolish selflessness. You deserve happiness too! I refuse to stand by and have you be just a martyr for the world."
Tharja reached out and clasped her long fingers about Robin's arm. "You are already a hero to me."
Robin glanced down at Tharja's hand, but he couldn't even force a smile.
"I don't know that I made the right choice back then. Perhaps I was a coward then, choosing the life I had with you. In a thousand year's time, Grima will return. All I did was delay the inevitable end. Our descendants will have to deal with this, and they might not be so lucky as us."
"We have a thousand years to prepare. That should be more than enough," Tharja said.
Robin looked down at where the dark blanket pooled about his thighs. "What if...Grima still lives inside me, and it won't take a thousand years? What if it's happening all so much faster than I thought could be possible?"
"Even if you return as the dragon of all fell things, I would still love you. Nothing about you is monstrous to me."
"Tharja..."
Tharja leaned in, all shadows and sharpness, and cupped Robin's chin. Her lips were warm, and the touch of her hair against Robin's skin almost made her moan into the kiss. When Tharja drew away, her hands lingered for a moment, cupping Robin's face.
"So be it. If you destroy the world, then I'll destroy it by your side," Tharja said.
"I don't want to destroy the world! Though...thank you for the support, I guess."
Tharja sighed. "Then I suppose we will have to save the world again. An inconvenience to be sure. Just when I was getting back to my plant collecting, and having you all to myself."
Tharja shifted until she was on her knees on the bed.
"Come here. Let me see," Tharja said.
Robin turned over to reveal his back.
Tharja let out a low, dark chuckle. "How lovely, dear..."
Tharja had devised a mark of spellcraft across Robin’s back. A tattoo of runic inscriptions. Tharja ran her fingers across Robin's back. Robin shivered at the heat of her touch, and the sting of her magic.
"The runes have not broken. There is no way Grima could escape without breaking this seal."
"That's a relief," Robin said. "Still...that dream felt so real."
"Perhaps it is an old memory of the other you which resurfaced suddenly," Tharja said.
Tharja rose from bed. Robin's gaze followed her. The inky dark way her hair fell down, the intensity of her.
"I'll burn sage to drive away any potential fell spirits, or curses from others," Tharja said.
A shadow came across her face. "They'll be so banished, they'll regret their very existence. Should any of them dare come for you..."
Tharja lit the cauldron within the room with a spark of magic. Dark flames appeared beneath the well-used cauldron. The room was illuminated. Many bookshelves lined their stone house. Robin's side was of history and tactics, while Tharja's sides were spellbooks and other upon magical craft. (Robin, of course, purused those bookshelves quite a bit as well.)
"...hell would be preferable to my wrath," Tharja said.
Dried herbs of all kinds hung from the ceiling. Robin had been forced to upgrade the modest house purchased after the war to employ a sizable storage rooms. (Ones which inevitably turned out to be filled with books as well.) Upon the hearth were Tharja's kit, and many mementos, such as a stray lock of silvery hair.
Tharja tossed in ingredients over her work. An aura of power filled the room, as well as a strong aroma that was savory and earthy all in one. Being this close to Tharja meant Robin had learned quite a bit about herbcraft, and yes, more of magic.
"Are you sure you aren't tired, Tharja? It's still late."
"I'm fine, my love. I would've spent much of the night watching you sleep anyways. And it is the witching hour. The perfect moment for this banishing ritual."
Tharja glanced back, fearsome and beautiful in her flimsy, sleek dark nightgown that hugged her curves tight. She wore that dress for Robin and Robin alone, to seduce him. (And Tharja always wanted to seduce him.)
"I'll brew you tea. Something calming. Chamomile and lavendar boiled to perfection. Only the best for you, after all..."
"If you aren't too busy."
Tharja gave her a dark look. "'Too busy'? Robin, my love, I am never too busy for you. I'll spoil you one way or another, even if it takes all night."
"Then, tea does sound nice," Robin said.
The cauldron boiled down the ingredients. New fresh scents filled the stone room. Soon enough, a cup of calming tea was brought to him.
Tharja sat on the corner of the bed as Robin sipped at the tea.
"Tomorrow, we'll begin the search anew. There must be some ritual out there which can keep the fell dragon from returning. And I will find it no matter what it takes, to keep you by my side," Tharja said.
"And if it doesn't?" Robin said softly.
"Then I will love what you become, and the world will finally worship you as you deserve," Tharja said simply.
"If we can't, and I turn into Grima...seal me away. I'm sure you know some way. Put me into a sleep, like what happened to the dragon Tiki. Whatever it takes to ensure that I'll never hurt anyone."
"I would watch over you. And then have you all to myself. Though, I would miss hearing you," Tharja said.
Robin smiled, if a bit grimly. "Maybe we could see each other in dreams."
"Dreams would not be enough, not nearly enough," Tharja said.
Tharja brushed back her dark hair.
"Still, it will not come to that. We'll find a way. Even if we have to resort to things like the power of friendship," Tharja said. The mere mention brought a grimace to her face, as if she'd tasted something sour. "Or love, or whatever Naga foretold to keep you with us. I'd endure even that for you, love," Tharja said.
Robin finished the tea, and clasped Tharja's hand in his.
"I know, Tharja. And I love you for it."
Something softened in Tharja's expression, as it always did around Robin.
"You should sleep again, or tomorrow you might be exhausted. I'll keep the ritual going and keep you safe," Tharja said.
"I'll watch you work for a while at least. It's calming."
Robin chuckled. "Consider the tables turned."
"You're good at such moves, Robin. You could checkmate me easily," Tharja said. She smiled one last time, before she returned to her magic. The room was filled with the power Tharja had amassed, all full of the love she had for Robin.
"Because you'd spend the entire match staring at me and not the board," Robin said.
"You are my weakness, and what a lovely weakness that is...heheheh...."
Robin rested his head on the pillow, and watched his wife's graceful spellwork. Even with the power of the most evil creature imaginable sealed inside him, Robin felt a feeling of comfort and safety over him, like a warm blanket about her shoulders.
The smell of herbs and spices filled the chamber as Robin