Nope! This fic isn't abandoned. Instead, it's been undergoing some revamps and a rather drastic re-write. Seriously, although a few things remain the same (like I pretty much copy-pasted the opening fight from the original draft) pretty much all the scenes are either completely new, or re-written from the ground-up.
A lot has happened, but I think the big thing was finding my stride and writing voice again. I'm royally embarrassed by the old version. Part of it was that I had overplanned it. Big time. I'm not sure what happened, but something clicked and I seem to (hopefully) be writing far better again, and in a way more consistent with my past fics.
So here's the major changes:
-DLC (with a few special exceptions) won't be novelized. That doesn't mean the DLC won't be a thing anymore. What do I mean by that? Oh, you'll see...
-I'm not longer trying to force in the Support convos. That was one of the big things, really.
And here are the things that remain the same:
-Robin and Chrom aren't paired. Chrom is going to be paired with Cordelia (as inspired by my Matchmaker fic). Robin's pairing is a surprise for now, but it isn't any of the first-gen characters.
So read, enjoy, and expect the second chapter up tomorrow! (It's already written, but I want to give it a day.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem
The roar of the crowd in Arena Ferox was deafening. Robin blocked it out, her focus on the other end of the arena, where her opponent was due to appear.
Citizens from all across East and West Ferox came to witness the fighting tournament, a series of one-on-one duels between various skilled warriors, culminating in the champion fight to determine the next ruler of both kingdoms. Robin, along with two of her comrades, had volunteered to participate. The other two had their matches before her. Sully, a cavalier and knight of Ylisse, had cleaned up well enough. However the fighter, Vaike, though still victorious, had gotten his arm smashed by his opponent's warhammer. Robin intended to check in with both of them once her match was finished.
A third friend was fighting in the final match, representing East Ferox and the East-Khan, Flavia.
Her opponent finally emerged from the arena's opposite entrance. He was a young man, about her age, wearing a green tunic, and with short blonde hair poking out of a green hat. A sword, shield, and bow were all strapped to his back.
"Good day!" Robin called, "May I ask for your name before we begin?" The young man didn't respond, instead pulling out his sword and shield, holding them at the ready. "Very well, then." She drew her Levin Sword from its sheath hanging at her side, and one of her tomes from within her cloak.
They stared each other down, each assessing the other.
He moved first, charging forward with his sword at the ready. That was his first mistake.
"Arcfire!"
A powerful fire sprung from her hands, connecting and trapping her approached foe. He stopped dead, yelping in pain. Levin Sword in hand, she dashed forward and dealt the first blow.
The swordsman brought around his shield, catching her attack and causing him to be shoved back. Her hand sparked with magic, as she charged up for the follow through.
"Elthunder!"
A bolt of lightning released from her fingertips. He rolled out of the way, and swapped out his sword for his bow. He shot a couple arrows, though it seemed his aim wasn't the best, the projectiles flying past or over her. She smirked. Two could play the long game. She gathered her magic, watching him ready another arrow. Odd, why was he hesitating?
"Arcthunder!"
The large ball of lightning hurled towards him. He didn't get out of the way. Instead, he brought around the shield hanging on his arm. The spell crashed against it, and fizzled.
Oh.
She could safely say she didn't see that coming. What kind of shield was-crap, she was open! Her eyes widened in realization, as the moment the spell faded the warrior threw up his bow and fired the nocked arrow.
She doubled over as it hit her torso. As far as arrow wounds went, it wasn't too bad. Fighters in the tournament were encouraged to avoid killing each other. It still stung though, and she winced when she pulled it out. Ow.
Okay, long game wasn't working. She drew her Levin Sword. The swordsman retrieved his own, and they met halfway.
Their blades clashed together, her Levin Sword crackling with lightning. There was one good way for her try gaining the upper hand. She adjusted her grip and forced power through her Levin Sword, calling upon its magical properties.
The blank range spell exploded in their faces, sending them flying far apart. She quickly regained her footing, the ends of her bangs signed, and assessed the resulting distance between the two combatants. Just enough ground to try…She started charging lighting again. It was time to finish this.
An arrow flew, and she dove out of the way. He'd pulled out his bow again. A little longer, she just had to hold out a little…Yes! One arrow narrowly grazed her. She ignored it, trying to get into a good position, the spell tingling ready at her fingertips. Her opponent seemed to catch on she was planning something, trading out for his sword and charging forward. The problem with his charging stance, however, was his shield thrown to his side instead of in front of him.
Bullseye.
"Thoron!"
A powerful beam of lightning shot from her hands, striking the swordsman and sending him flying across the arena. He crashed against the far wall, then slumped to the ground, seemingly unmoving. She frowned, slowly approaching. Oh no, had she overdone-Wait, no, he was twitching. Not dead, just . She sighed in relief, as healers emerged to tend to the loser. One of them stopped by her, their healing magic soothing the injuries she sustained, including her arrow wound.
Turning, she headed back inside the arena.
The people in the stands were a raucous group, cheering and jeering as the battles in the arena below unfolded. While participating wasn't really Robin's thing, she couldn't deny the infectious energy. Bets were made, argument and conversation alike carried, and it all made for an interesting experience.
She encountered several of members of her group, the Shepherds, while poking her way through the crowd. At one point she spotted their archer, Virion, surprisingly not trying to seduce a woman, but instead engaged in pleasant-seeming conversation with Frederick, a great knight.
At one point, she passed by Vaike, and Stahl, a cavalier, the pair close to the stone railing. Vaike was really into the match that had begun after her own ended, while Stahl looked uncertain.
"Hello, Vaike," Robin said. Her eyes settled on the arm that had been injured. From the way he leaned on in casually, it seemed the healing magic had done it's work. "I see you've recovered well."
The fighter grinned and puffed out his chest, "Hah! As if a minor scratch like that would actually slow down Teach!"
"Getting your bones crushed isn't really what I would call a 'minor scratch'..." Stahl commented, "But for what it's worth, it was really impressive you managed to win despite that. You, Sully, and Robin were all incredible. It's a bit overwhelming, actually. I wish I could be nearly that good."
Robin shook her head, and smiled, "You sell yourself short, Stahl. I do believe Chrom called you 'One of our finest' when were introduced?" Stahl turned slightly pink, and he rubbed the back of his head.
She left the boys behind to continue on. When she jostled past one knot of people, she bumped into Sumia, a pegasus knight, and Sully.
"Robin!" Sully grinned, clapping her shoulder, "Great fight! You should have seen the dastard's face right before your spell hit him. Hah!"
Robin smirked, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Do either of you know where Khan Flavia is, or failing that, Lissa?"
Sumia pointed, "They're both sitting together several rows that way. Um, how is the Captain doing?"
"I didn't get the chance to see him before coming up, sorry. But don't worry Sumia, I left him a message asking him to be careful. I know Flavia said deaths in these tournaments are rare, but you know how Chrom can get."
Sully scoffed, "The Captain'll be fine. He had that look in his eye. I almost feel sorry for the poor dastard that's going to be facing him."
Robin thanked the two and went in the direction Sumia had indicated. As Sumia had said, Flavia was with Lissa, the Shepherd's cleric. Lissa noticed Robin approached, and waved her over, brimming with excitement.
"Robin, you were amazing out there!"
"Thank you, Lissa." Robin squeezed herself between Flavia and Lissa, and leaned on the stone railing.
"That was a good match," Flavia said, "You're as good a fighter as you are a tactician...It's very interesting, actually."
"And why is that?"
"Most tacticians prefer to keep out of combat. Some don't even learn much of fighting to begin with. You can see the reasoning behind it. You aren't much use to an army if you're killed in battle. But not only can you hold your own, you seem like a force in your own right."
Robin 'tsked,' "I'm not that good. Chrom can beat me in a sword match at any time of the day. And Miriel's knowledge and skill at magic exceeds my own considerably. Especially since I likely lost a fair chunk of that knowledge when my memories were wiped."
Flavia looked curious, "Memories wiped?" Of course, the khan wouldn't know about that. Robin prepared to explain, when Lissa piped up,
"Robin's an amnesiac." Flavia's eyebrows raised. Lissa continued, "We found her collapsed in a field not that long ago. Then bandits attacked a nearby town, and she charged right in to help us." The cleric placed a hand on her face, her eyes unfocusing, "It was incredible! Not only using swords and magic, but she suddenly started giving orders at which point we found out about her knack for tactics. She didn't have anywhere else to go, so Chrom recruited her as the Shepherd's tactician."
"That's quite an impressive story," Flavia turned to Robin, "So you remember nothing from before Chrom found you?"
Robin shook her head, "Nothing. I have some knowledge, things that I suspect were ingrained so deeply they became reflexive, second-nature. Tactics. Magic. Swordplay. But what my life was before Chrom found me, I don't know." She looked down at her hands, at the purple, six-eyed mark on the back of her right. One of the vestiges of her past, along with her coat and her weapons. It didn't seem like just a birthmark, but what it actually was, she currently had no way of knowing.
Flavia shifted uncomfortably, "Apologies, I shouldn't have pried."
The corner of Robin's mouth lifted, "It's fine. I've been trying to look at the silver lining. The Shepherds treat me like one of their own. And I get the chance to experience many things for the first time again. While I think a lot about what my past was, there's also not much sense in worrying over what I lost. At present, we have no idea when, or even if, my memories will return."
Lissa tugged Robin's sleeve, "Hey, look, it's woman from the Longfort...Rami, I think her name was?"
An armored warrior strode into the arena, proud and confident. Rami, one of Flavia's most trusted lieutenants. Not long ago, the Shepherds had to fight her in order to cross the border into Ferox. She and her men had been good, but not good enough. Robin was just grateful neither side sustained casualties.
Rami's opponent, a myrmidon, emerged from the other side. While Robin didn't see anything unusual about him, the moment he emerged from the shadows, confused murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Flavia's expression matched the crowd's mood, "What's he doing here?"
"Do you know him?" Robin asked.
"Yes, Lon'qu, the West-Ferox champion. Or he was. If he's here in one of the earlier matches, then that means," Flavia's brow furrowed, "That means the West-Khan is having someone else champion him this year."
"Should we be worried about that?" Lissa asked.
"Hard to say. Lon'qu is an exceptionally skilled swordsman. Why do you think I have had so much trouble claiming full regency? The only reason he would be here is if another bested him."
They watched the match unfold. Robin quickly saw what Flavia meant. Lon'qu was fast, even for a myrmidon, wielding his sword with expert precision. Rami put up a fair fight, her armor providing her with protection. But it soon became clear that she was outmatched. The duel ended with her on her knees, Lon'qu's sword at her throat. She bowed her head, indicating she yielded.
Lon'qu sheathed his sword and exited the main arena with no sign of emotion. Rami departed the other way. The usual cheers of the crowd were broken up by whispers of excitement. If Lon'qu wasn't the West-Ferox champion, who was? Robin's eyes were riveted to the arena's openings.
Chrom, Lissa's elder brother, emerged first. Robin regretted that Rami's match had been the last one before the championship match. Otherwise, she could have had time to dash back and warn the prince of the potential unknown factor. A swordsman even more skilled than what they just witnessed...
No. She needed to have more faith than that. Hadn't she just told Flavia Chrom could best her at any time.? Admittedly, she wasn't the best judge or barometer of swordplay, but she knew Chrom's skill. He would be fine, no matter his opponent.
The West-Ferox champion appeared from the other side. Lissa gasped. So did Robin.
She had only seen that person one other time, but he was hard to forget. A butterfly shaped-mask. A fluttering cape and the garb of the legendary Hero-King. A young man whose appearance had provoked so many questions. This was one of the last places they expected to see him.
Lissa grabbed Robin's arm, squeezing it, "What's Marth doing here?"
Prince Chrom gripped the handle of his sword, Falchion, trying to force himself to calm down.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He and the Shepherds had come to Ferox on behalf of his older sister, Emmeryn, the exalt of the halidom of Ylisse. Recent events had led to the decision to request assistance from Ferox. The halidom, with it's meager standing forces, desperately needed the martial support the warrior kingdom could provide.
The 'diplomatic' approach favored by his sister had broken down as soon as they reached the border. And now he had been thrust into another fight. The bargain with Flavia was simple. Champion East-Ferox, win, and she would use her newfound power to establish an alliance with Ylisse. It was the best chance they had. Many of Ferox's more...xenophobic policies in the last several years had emerged under the West-Khan. There was no guarantee of being able to negotiate something with him, should Chrom not win.
No. He would win. He didn't care what Robin said ("I have a message for you, from a friend of yours. Robin I believe her name was." "Oh? What is it?" "'Good luck with your match. And don't be a stubborn idiot. The Shepherds can't afford to lose their captain.'"). He would do whatever was necessary to secure victory.
The signal came that it was time. Taking a deep breath, Chrom stepped out into the arena. He scanned the noisy crowd in hopes of glimpsing any of the Shepherds. No luck, but he knew they were watching.
A figure emerged from the shadows at the other end of the arena. Chrom tensed, as the person stepped out in the light.
Marth?
Chrom hadn't seen him since the chaotic night that had signaled the start of all their troubles. He had saved the life of his sister, Lissa, helped them repeal the threat that had appeared, and had left them with a cryptic warning.
But what was he doing here?
"Marth!" Chrom called, "A word before we begin?"
No response. Any expression was well-hidden by Marth's mask. "Very well then. Our swords will speak for us."
He drew Falchion from it's sheath, bringing it to a ready position in front of him. Marth pulled out his own blade, a longsword, also bringing it to a ready position in an eerily familiar motion.
That's when it hit Chrom like a thunderbolt: He *recognized* Marth's sword.
"Where did you get that?" He demanded. Still no response. He tightened his grip on his sword. Marth's sword…was an exact copy of Chrom's. Of Falchion. But that wasn't possible! Falchion was a holy blade, thousands of years old, said to have been forged by the divine dragon herself. There was only one in the entire world. "There's no way…"
Don't think about. Focus on fighting. He made the first move, rushing forward, sword at the ready. Marth moved with surprising speed, throwing up his blade to clash against Chrom's. They parried each other, again and again, mirroring each other move for move.
Marth's style, his movements…It was like fighting a mirror. But Chrom's style was fairly unique, based around wielding the Falchion effectively, drawing from a combination of various Ylissean styles, and his own invention. For someone to have his technique to this extent…It was unnerving.
"Tell me," The prince said, between parries, "Who taught you to fight like that?"
They jumped apart, and in near-perfect synchronicity, swung their blades into the same position. They charged past each other, weapons clanging together. Chrom pivoted, in time to see the masked swordsman coming at him with an attack from above.
"My father!" The swordsman gritted out. Chrom dove out of the way, Marth's sword striking hard ground where he had just been. Marth turned around, raising his blade in challenge. Chrom's brow furrowed. This didn't make any sense. The more he saw of Marth, the more questions he raised.
"Who is your father?" He demanded, lifting Falchion to prepare for the next attack.
"I've said enough for one day, sir." Marth said simply.
"Hmph, is that how it is? Lissa owes you her life, and for that you have my gratitude. But within these walls I represent the East-Khan and the interests of Ylisse. I can't promise to stay my blade, but I vow not to shame you."
To his surprise, Marth chuckled, "Heh, never expected such youthful arrogance…We shall see who shames who!"
Marth moved first this time. Chrom parried. They traded blows, mirror each others' movements. Despite the similarities, Chrom spotted small differences between them. Marth focused more on speed then power, likely as a consequence of his smaller frame. His blows were lighter, but swifter. The Falchion clearly slowed his strikes, and Chrom considered that Marth would be deadly with a lighter weapon like a rapier. As it was, the prince barely kept up. There was no denying Marth was talented, and Chrom couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense duel.
While Marth's moves weren't an exact copy of Chrom's, a variation on the techniques was possibly even more disturbing. It meant he knew the style well enough to make it his own.
At long last, Chrom spotted an opening. As Marth's sword swung around, he blocked one last time, and shoved the other back. Marth came forward to re-close the distant, blade trailing behind him…Chrom swung his blade up as Marth swung his, and stopped it just short of the young man's throat.
Marth froze, his own blade halfway to the position Chrom's was in. A few seconds difference, and he might have well been the victor. The whole arena went silent, tension hanging in the air. The two remained in position for several seconds, while they comprehended what happened. Then Marth smiled, "Impressive, if not unexpected. I yield." He bowed his head, sword arm falling limply to his side.
The arena erupted. The noise nearly blew out Chrom's eardrums, and Marth cringed under his mask. Wordlessly (not that they could say anything over the crowd in any case), both of them sheathed their weapons. As one, they turned their backs on each other, and left the arena.
Robin's attacks were inspired by her Smash appearance.
I churned out this, the re-written second chapter, and part of the third over the past few days. So, that's about 7,000 words over two, maybe three, days. And (cross your fingers) I'm expecting to churn things out at a good pace for real this time.
Hope you enjoyed!