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Robin had been very busy moping about the Shepherd’s barracks on a dull winter morning. She had watched the light snowfall flutter about outside a small, drafty window, feeling very morose indeed. With the war over, was she still needed? Where would she go, if the answer was no?
Cordelia had discovered Robin sitting alone and pondering her future and sized her up with one swift glance.
“Come on,” she’d said. “You look like you need a ride to clear your head as much as I do.”
Though Robin was dubious that a flight through snow flurries would calm her thoughts, it couldn’t hurt. Being near Cordelia made everything seem more manageable. She was so capable, even through her own secret turmoil. Cordelia reminded her of a swan, working hard under the water’s surface while remaining the picture of serene grace to onlookers. But Robin didn’t want to be one of the onlookers who accepted the surface-level picture of perfection. She wanted to ease the burdens that Cordelia carried so gracefully. If a pegasus ride together would help, it was a no-brainer. Robin would go a lot farther than that for Cordelia’s smile.
Cordelia tightened her arms around Robin’s waist as she directed her pegasus in an easy, wide loop. The forest beneath them looked quaint, like a toy set with tiny snow-capped trees. Small snowflakes eddied and swirled past them, stinging when they hit Robin’s wind-chapped cheeks. Robin shivered again and huddled back against Cordelia to bask in their shared warmth. Cordelia’s sleekly muscled body was firm when molded to Robin’s back, and she didn’t even complain at the way the wind whipped Robin’s hair into her face. Her breath was hot where it puffed against Robin’s ear, Cordelia’s chin sitting snugly against Robin’s shoulder.
The fact that sharing a pegasus called for Cordelia to hug Robin close was certainly a nice bonus. Robin felt slightly guilty for this less-than altruistic motive, but as she leaned back into Cordelia’s arms, she was still glad she had agreed to come. It wasn’t Robin’s fault that Cordelia was incisive and strong and beautiful and—well. Robin didn’t think she could be blamed for wanting to be close to her, was all. Especially not when it was so cold.
“There is something kind of magical about being up here in the snow,” Robin shouted over the roar of the wind rushing past her ears. The snow did give everything a wonderful effect, blanketing the world below and turning it new again. But really, Robin thought that the magic had more to do with Cordelia herself.
Cordelia hummed in agreement as they considered the landscape, the low sound sending a thrill down Robin’s spine. She shifted the reins to one hand so that she could playfully chafe Robin’s arms.
“Days like today remind me of my training,” Cordelia said, and she hunched down in the saddle, leaning forward into Robin, whose heart thumped as they shifted against each other. “I had to learn to fly in all kinds of weather, and the veterans would take me out on their patrols, so that I could get a feel for it.”
Robin laid a hand on Cordelia’s forearm, squeezing it briefly in sympathy. Talk of her fallen sisters-in-arms was rare. Cordelia was making a gift of her freely volunteered vulnerability, which was even rarer.
Or Robin was reading too much into it, and Cordelia really had just wanted to comment on her training.
She shook her head in frustration, forgetting that Cordelia’s face was planted against her shoulder. Mortifyingly, the back of her head knocked against Cordelia’s nose, and the pegasus reared as Cordelia jerked back, pulling the reins with her.
“Ah—sorry—I—sorry!” Robin cried, clinging to the saddle horn. Cordelia righted their course and calmed their steed while Robin’s head spun, dizzy with relief and shame and the terror of nearly being bucked off. Burning up with embarrassment was another way to keep warm, she thought mournfully.
“Perhaps we ought to land before I turn the Shepherd’s illustrious tactician into a popsicle, or worse, my pegasus decides she has had enough of us,” Cordelia said wryly. She banked sharply and wheeled them into a rapid descent.
Robin’s stomach was trying to leap out of her mouth, and a giddy scream ripped from her throat as they plunged, half a shout and half hysterical laughter.
She was giggling madly as they landed, and she struggled to unlock her limbs enough to climb down as Cordelia dismounted.
Cordelia, flush from the cold and windswept, smiled teasingly at Robin and held out her arms, waiting for Robin to fall into them once again. Robin’s breath caught. She tumbled off the pegasus, clumsy with cold and eagerness. Cordelia caught her, steady as always, and Robin was loath to climb down from her hold. She stared up and idly wondered how Cordelia could make wind-tangled hair look so elegant. She wondered if it would be convincing if she pretended that her legs didn’t work, stiffened from the chill wind.
Robin wondered if Cordelia would ever be interested in kissing a tactician who occasionally made stupid mistakes and who very much wanted to kiss her.
“Let’s get inside and warm up,” Cordelia said, still smiling and unflappable, placing Robin gently on her feet. Somehow, despite the threat of falling to their doom, her good cheer was infectious. Perhaps Cordelia was on to something with this business of taking rides to clear her thoughts. Or perhaps, as Robin had originally suspected, simply being near Cordelia helped. Robin resolved to tag along for more rides, if she could.
When she thought about the future, having a regular excuse to cuddle up to Cordelia was a good enough reason to cheer up.