It just happened one day by chance. Usually such a petty error would leave the myrmidon biting back his pride, apologizing fervently. However, in this instance, after recoiling back with his sword, Lon'qu stood frozen in place. He watched as the rope holding the famous tactician's infamous coat snap apart.
It was a sort of peaceful separation. Lon'qu had only nicked the material, yet it unraveled and broke apart like a tree in a storm. Violent, sudden, yet strangely captivating. Lon'qu couldn't take his eyes away. Slowly but surely, the Grimlean coat slid off the white-haired male's shoulder. It fell to the ground with a gracious thump.
Robin remained upright, rigid and stiff at his opponent's hesitation. He hadn't realized what had happened. The adrenaline simply continued to pump throughout his system, readying for what he was assuming was a fake-out from Lon'qu. He must not have registered the weight off his shoulders, the cool breeze breathing down his open skin, nor the lack of shielding in his whole frame. He must not have registered that his arms were open for the world to see.
The world, of course, being only Lon'qu. Only Lon'qu for the moment, though. Now, the myrmidon was not the chatty type. He didn't throw himself into the midst of gossip often, if ever. He much preferred to talk with his blade. But he was aware - no, was absolutely certain that he couldn't simply keep this to himself.
"R-Robin..." There was a disturbance in his voice that even the focused Robin could pick up on. The smaller male made a face of confusion, lowering his sword. His affliction of whether Lon'qu was counting on him letting his guard down melted as his name was uttered.
"What?" Robin questioned, slightly puzzled at first. He was then deeply frightened as the man, who was a master at keeping his emotions in check, looked upon him with obvious shock and primitive fear. He tried again with more urgency, "Is there a problem?"
Lon'qu didn't answer. To say he just stood there, stunned, was not entirely true. It wasn't entirely false either. The stoic man was running through what he should say, how to breach this topic. He also was giving himself time to recover, barely able to believe his eyes. He knew that his vision rarely ever lied, but he fought the idea as he thought to himself, not Robin; not someone like Robin.
Because to him, Robin was a special man.
So for Lon'qu to see him - Robin - with raw scars down his arm, cut in obscene angles and spelling out self-deprecating slurs... It was beyond his comprehension. It was as if he was witnessing a pegasus getting its wings torn off. A plight to a beautiful creature.
"R-Robin." He repeated again. "Robin."
"Your suspense is scaring me. What's the matter?" The tactician decided that he would make the first move; he lifted his arm to console. "Ah?" Then was the moment the situation was pieced together.
At first, it was a simple observation that his arm felt surprisingly and oddly light. After that, he realized that it was because his coat was crumpled on the ground and not concealing the parts of his body that were scarcely seen by others. Finally, it hit him harder than the Vaike would've loaded with three bottles of Feroxi whiskey.
He was reduced to an animal. Quickly, Robin squatted and recovered his coat. He desperately attempted to cover himself and began to make his way out of the training area. As nimble as the white-haired male was, he was no match for the trained Lon'qu. The silent swordsman lunged forward, seizing Robin's arm before he could run.
He struggled against the shaky grip, but couldn't remove it. His other hand was too busy, holding onto his coat so that his scars remained hidden. Robin gritted his teeth. He breathed harshly, "Let me go!"
"You're unwell." Lon'qu fired back, struggling for words. He would not falter in his grasp, afraid of what would happen if Robin were to escape. He was aware of the man's renown skills, not just in battle, but in conversation too. If he were to run and recover, he would swiftly avoid the topic whenever breached. Lon'qu only had this chance to reason with the tactician's self-inflicted injuries himself. "Please, stop fighting - "
Robin shook his head, pulling all his strength against Lon'qu. His feet dug in the ground for leverage. It was to no avail. "Just release me! What you saw... that was none of your concern!"
"If I saw what I think I saw," Lon'qu grunted, "then it most certainly is my concern." His eyes narrowed as he pulled Robin toward him, close enough for his free hand to grab the man's other arm. "Calm down!" He did not enjoy raising his voice, especially to Robin. "I need you to calm down."
Robin was forced to face Lon'qu, but he squeezed his eyes shut and ducked his head, continuing to fight. "It is... nothing." His resistance weakened. It was still there, however.
Lon'qu clicked his teeth in frustration. He couldn't help himself as he succumbed to his emotions. His grip on one hand tightened, inciting a wince out of the tactician. He barely noticed as his other hand roughly tugged at the coat, compelling it out of Robin's hands. The garment fell onto the ground, even less graceful than the first time.
Robin gasped as it happened. He attempted, in vain, to shield any sight of his arms. Lon'qu almost scoffed, but instead decided to keep a steady face and stern tone, "This," He seized Robin's arm once again, lifting it for both to see, "You call this nothing?" His voice strained against his throat like contained thunder. His eyes held a storm as he read the cuts buried deep in the skin. Failure. Liability. Weak. My fault. "Though, perhaps it's less surprising than it ought to be..."
Lon'qu didn't miss the cringe. It had been only days since Exalt Emmeryn's demise, and it was one fill with filth of underhanded tactics. Gangrel, the mad king, and Aversa, the wicked sorcerer, had laughed as the Ylisse leader acted as a martyr. They simply laughed at the concept of peace.
Everyone was devastated as they were forced to retreat. Once they fought their way to safety, the makeshift group fell apart. Lissa cried the whole way back to camp and didn't cease until she fell asleep. Frederick didn't scout ahead. The knight just pathetically watched as pebbles passed him in the way for everyone else, including his lord. Chrom. Their leader was silent, refusing to look up. At one point, he stomped ahead of the trail, finally prompting Frederick to show his usually quality of worrying. He chased after the blue-haired prince, leaving Robin in the lead.
Lon'qu remembered. He remembered being in the bulk of the crowd. He looked around, matching dejected looks to each face, except for Robin. He was too far ahead to see, masked by rain and darkness. But he never left even after Chrom had. Lon'qu remembered getting to camp and dropping his dirty, bloodied sword at the barracks. He remembered running to find the tactician, worried more for him than anyone else. He remembered finding him at the mess hall, alone with a single candle, head cradled on the table.
He remembered sitting. He remembered talking. He remembered staying for a while. He remembered standing up to leave after hours of comfort. He remembered a soft smile, dark eyes, and pale skin. A silent, "Thank you," leaving pallid lips. Quicker heartbeats. A feeling of dread.
He remembered leaving without saying anything of the crimson stained sleeves, too fresh, too obvious.
"An axe to the head... would be nothing to me... compared to the sight of what your arms are littered with..." Lon'qu choked, teeth grinding. Robin flinched at his statement, finally looking up at Lon'qu with painful eyes, murky earth tones that looked far too hurt. Lon'qu stared back, praying to Naga that his eyes could display just as much emotion, "What is this, Robin?"
"I-I..." Robin sputtered. He began tearing up, hunching over, trying one last time to pull away. He bit his lip. "I don't know... I don't know."
Slowly, the famed tactician sank to his knees beside his fallen fleece. The coat cradled his figure as Lon'qu released his arms. The myrmidon watched as Robin fell like leaves of autumn, beautiful, free, sad. He stood over him and watched.
"I woke up. I woke up in a field," Robin looked at the ground with vacant eyes, holding his arms, "I didn't know who I was or what I was doing there."
"I know this story." Lon'qu cut in, staring down. His eyes were sharp. His senses were peaked, waiting for Robin to jump up and run. He would never let him go. Not when they were this far.
"You don't know it all." Robin knelt unmoving. "When I was in Ylissetol... When I was alone, I finally removed this infernal coat. Underneath the apparel, these scars already laid."
Lon'qu glare and knelt in front of Robin. He prompted his head up by lifting his chin, giving the white-haired male no choice but to look at him. Then he howled, "You expect to pass these scars off as part of your forgotten past? Don't fool around!"
Robin retaliated and pushed Lon'qu away. The swordsman stumbled, but recovered quickly. He was ready to grab Robin again, but stopped when he saw that he hadn't moved from his nest of a coat. Robin just stared back, grimacing. Lon'qu would've felt guilty if they were in any other situation.
"Let me finish!" Robin glared harshly. "It's not a lie; these scars were upon my body when I first came to. I was frightened when I first saw them. Disgusted even." Robin then looked away and sighed. "I chose to ignore them at that moment."
Lon'qu raised an eyebrow. "At that moment?"
A nod, "It was before you had joined us. My first official battle as Chrom's tactician, third battle since I woke up. Argh... Vaike, that idiot, forgot his axe," Lon'qu regarded this for a second, but ultimately was not surprised in the slightest, "and Miriel had found it. It-It was such a foolish mistake on my part."
Robin faltered. His eyes flashed with repulsion. Repulsion at himself. Lon'qu reached out unconsciously, not to grab him, but to reassure him. He placed his hand gently on Robin's shoulder. Both males were taken aback at his gesture. Lon'qu retracted his hand quickly as if he just stroked fire. He felt his cheek flare. "I-I apologize." He cursed himself for stuttering like that wishy-washy pegasus knight around the prince.
"It was no problem." Robin blinked. "I..." Then, out of awkwardness, he coughed. Continuing, "What had happened was I told Miriel to give Vaike his weapon. I ordered her into the fray of the battle carelessly. And as a result-"
"She was injured." Lon'qu recovered with red cheeks and finished Robin's story.
"Yes." Robin shrunk back. "At the first camp stop, I was congratulated. I tried to tell Chrom what I had done, but he wouldn't accept it. I suppose overall, I did a fair job, but that one mistake opened my eyes to the gravity of my job. I can't allow any mistakes. Miriel didn't obtain a grave injury due to luck. Unfortunately, as a tactician, I can't afford to rely on luck. Luck may frown upon a person and cause them their life. I couldn't live with such odds.
"That night, it was chilly. We were coming upon the first town in Regna Ferox, but we were still too far. We set camp again. It began to snow, yet I still removed my coat. The whole night, I couldn't help but stare at the words these scars spelled out."
Lon'qu frowned. "You're much too hard on yourself, Robin. You said it yourself, it was your first real battle."
"That's no excuse." Robin shot back. He sulked, lowering his head. Then, he addressed his companion, "Lon'qu. If Miriel wasn't here today, and you had known it was due to my error as a strategist, would you have trusted me?"
Lon'qu's initial answer was yes. Yes, he trusted Robin with his very life. It showed on the battlefield. Robin would yell for Lon'qu to do something, and he would follow like a dog. If Robin asked if Lon'qu trusted him, the answer would be a definitive yes.
But that's not what he asked.
Lon'qu lulled and really thought about the question because that's what Robin wanted him to do. Would a soldier blindly follow someone who had death trailing behind him? Would someone stake their life on a gambler who had already lost? But those weren't the questions asked, either.
Lon'qu crossed his arms and looked at Robin directly, answering, "Yes. I would still trust you."
Robin jumped, unsatisfied. "You're just saying that-"
"I assure you," Lon'qu interrupted and held up a hand, and Robin quieted, waiting for the explanation, "it would not have been as deep as how much I trust you now. But I would've still trusted you, nonetheless."
Robin shifted uneasily. He bit his lip, obviously thrown off by Lon'qu's answer. "Why? Why would you?" Robin made a face and admitted, "I wouldn't trust anyone like that..."
Lon'qu breathed out. "I should remind you that Miriel is, in fact, still with us, first of all. But I'll explain anyway. You are aware I was at Arena Ferox the day you and Chrom had fought against the new champion." Robin nodded. "Good. Because I saw the way you directed everyone...
"...And I was captivated."
Robin stiffened. Lon'qu waited for him to interrupt again, but no sound arose from the tactician's mouth. The only thing that had changed within his face was a tint of pink spread in his cheeks. Lon'qu gritted his teeth, willing himself not to blush in response.
"It's true," Lon'qu kept speaking, too scared of what would happened if he stopped, "I found your tactical approach to be somewhat enthralling. Exclusively, I am a swordsman, but even I could see the eloquence in your strategy..." Lon'qu trailed off as he watched Robin's face get redder and redder as he continued in complimenting. "A-And that's why I would still trust you. I have faith in what I saw."
Lon'qu finished his sentence quickly, opening the floor back up to Robin. But the white-haired male didn't speak unprompted. He simply sat in his coat nest, blushing from Lon'qu's praise. As the silence grew, so did the awkward atmosphere. "Well," Lon'qu urged Robin to speak, to end the flushing of his face, "do you believe me?"
"A-Ah, yes." Robin finally answered, scratching his cheek. The tactician was thoroughly and obviously embarrassed. "I'm honored you regarded me - regard me so highly." Lon'qu collected himself as he felt the heavy tension grow again. The moment of blushing and compliments was fairly nice in hindsight, but now he had to focus as Robin let out a tight, painful simper. "You shouldn't, however."
Lon'qu had narrowed his eyes again. "After the Exalt's death... Was that the first time you had...?"
Robin hesitated. He slumped his shoulders, giving off clear signs that Lon'qu would not appreciate his answer. And Lon'qu certainly did not. "No. Exalt Emmeryn's falling provided the fourth opportunity to reopen my scars - "
"The fourth!?" Lon'qu raised his voice yet again.
"The fourth." Robin agreed quietly. "The first was after we had rescued Maribelle and Ricken. But they were-" Lon'qu didn't finish for Robin this time. He wanted him to say it, vent to him. Face his demon. "They were injured because of me. Maribelle... Her shoulder was so burnt. I was afraid I had failed her, but Lady Luck smiled upon me yet again.
"And I resented her for it." Robin clenched his fists. "I had escaped my failed tactics yet again. I couldn't stand it. Of course, I was overjoyed Maribelle managed to recover fully, yet a part of me wasn't. If she was in worse shape, then they would've seen how lackluster my strategy was. How I failed in so many ways to keep children - out of all people - children safe. So the following night, I stared at the scars and watched as I retraced the words. It was a crescendo of of pain, yet I felt better after doing so."
Lon'qu had sat and listened the entire time. He cringed at Robin's story of self-hatred and wanted nothing more than to comfort him. But he was poor at doing so, already proven by his last action. So he remained quiet, hoping that Robin would continue to use him as a vent. He would always lend an ear, now especially.
"The second time was like the first. It was a risen attack and both Stahl and Sully had a brush with death. On the way to the barracks, Sully had even jested about it. I simply listened and smiled, waiting until I could go to my tent.
"The third time... was for two reasons. The first being the Hierarchy. I knew he was acting suspicious and yet - " Robin shook his head. "I let him die as well." Lon'qu must've had a questionable look on his face. Robin simply explained, "He was a traitor, but I don't believe his death was necessary."
"Wait, I must stop you. You're not going say that the fall of the border was your fault as well?" Lon'qu's frown deepened, hoping that wasn't so.
Robin let out a dark chuckle, not of humor but of self-satire. He looked at Lon'qu with shaded vision, "No, but I still feel guilty of that as well." Robin's tight smile faded. "I believe it's my fault entirely Exalt Emmeryn dies. Not only did I fail in saving her life, but I also should have prevented her from returning to Ylissetol."
"That's insane, Robin. It was not your position to stop the Exalt." The myrmidon knew this reason was just as bad as the one he had given. How could Robin think this way? He felt as if everything was on his shoulders simply because he was given a high title?
"My position or not, I still foresaw the unsavory result, yet chose not to say anything."
Lon'qu couldn't take it anymore. He recalled when he had first made Robin's acquaintance. The white-haired male gave off such a different impression back then. Lon'qu had thought that the tactician had a hubris due to his superior strategy and outstanding social skills. He definitely had believed that they would not get along outside of combat.
Sitting there in the moment, listening to Robin spout off all his worries, Lon'qu wished to hit his past self. Perhaps if he was more open to Robin, they could've grown closer faster. He could've been there. He could've said something about Robin's sleeves the night of Emmeryn's death.
"I cannot do this any longer." Lon'qu admitted. He looked at Robin's arms as he stood. The etchings in his skin became painfully malign against the frailness of Robin's skinny limbs. "Come." He held out his hand.
Robin stared at it, contemplating. "I - " He began, but any words in his throat simply trickled away into nothing. Instead, he gratefully took his friend's hand. With little effort, Lon'qu pulled him up. Robin's coat was swiftly grabbed. Together, the two draped the garment over Robin's shoulders, sealing the scars for later. Robin's sword remained on the ground beside Lon'qu's.
"I'll pick those up later." Lon'qu said seeing Robin eye the discarded items. The myrmidon instead turned and lead Robin back toward the bulk of camp. He simply nodded a quick greeting at anyone who he passed, not even bothering to stop. He was relieved that none of those people were Chrom. Even in this raw time of mourning, the pacific-haired lord still would've bothered Lon'qu about Robin's current condition: subordinate, huddled in front of the protective Lon'qu, away from eyes.
The myrmidon didn't really want to deal with that. So when they came upon Robin's tent, he thanked Lady Luck before going inside with a courteous, "Excuse me." He had never been inside the tactician's tent, but it looked just how he imagined it to look.
It was quite large in light of his position. There was a single cot in the corner of the room along with a desk littered with scrolls and drawings of maps. The only other piece of furniture was a large bookshelf, flooded with texts of various sizes. Surrounded by that was a plethora of parchment, splotched with lines of ink. A single pen sat in between parchment and the sizable desk.
It was a strategist's room through and through. That made Lon'qu's goal difficult as he had to dance around various open books and papers filled with wet ink on the floor. Robin sheepishly gave a look of apology as the two avoided the land mines.
When they finally reached Robin's cot, Lon'qu sat the white-haired male down. He then did a second scan of the tent before asking, "Do you have any medical supplies?"
Robin looked up at Lon'qu puzzled. "No. Why?"
Lon'qu frowned at the strategist. For leading an army to victory after victory, he can be quite daft. He recalled a conversation of the past, 'I honestly cannot tell sometimes if you're a genius or a complete dimwit.'
"For your arms, of course. I believe I can endure the presence of Lady Lissa if she can provide me with some herbs." Lon'qu elaborated. Then he pondered to himself, perhaps the princess may have some salve that can completely remove scars...
Robin frowned. "That's not necessary. If my arms could be healed, they'd already be."
Lon'qu mimicked his expression. "How could you be so sure? Because of your past self?" Robin didn't answer verbally or physically. "You can't rely on information not known... You had said so yourself." It was better off unsaid: You don't know if you did the same thing in the past. This horrible cycle of carving hateful reminders.
"I'll be back shortly." Lon'qu didn't wait for a response. "Do not leave." He nodded at Robin and hobbled off, careful not to step on any of the tactician's precious texts. Once he had exited the tent, he wavered at the entrance for a period. The back of his head leaned against the the doorway. He grimaced sorrowfully. Hearing what he feared, the myrmidon walked off, echoes of choked sobs ringing in his head.
Lon'qu's fist paused, centimeters from the medical tent's door. His disciplined ears stopped him. The myrmidon retracted his hand and leaned closer, frowning as he picked up on the situation.
"Emmeryn... Sister..." The voiced moaned, wallowing in misery and pity. There was a stark contrast in this feminine tone compared to the usual jubilant chimes of motivation. The princess of Ylissetol was crying once again.
Lon'qu clicked his tongue. He empathized with Lissa, he truly did, but that did not mean he wanted to deal with her in such a dejected state. Lady or gentleman, princess or peasant, it didn't matter, for Lon'qu was dreadful at solacing anyone. He considering turning tail and leaving, but soon the princess's lament melded with the memory of Robin's. The aloof man, within a few prolong seconds, found himself unable to drag himself away. Additionally, he desperately wanted the medical supplies he initially came for.
He knocked twice and heard a respite in Lissa's mewl. A pit of regret grew in his stomach, and he considered fleeing. However, the swordsman steeled himself and remained steadfast as the door creaked open ever so slightly. He watched as two blue-grey eyes, the color of a growing storm, appeared through the open crack.
"Eh? Lon'qu?" She sounded surprised. Lon'qu understood, he was shocked to be doing this as well. The door yielded and opened, revealing the rest of the cleric. Lon'qu grimaced as he looked upon a ragged version of the once bright princess. "What... What are you doing here?" Her voice was nasally and strained. She rubbed her eyes.
To put it frankly, she looked like a risen. A wan, disheveled zombie, just birthed from the ground. Her sunny dress was tainted with scarlet, dried blood. Her pigtails looked as if they were in a scramble with a bear. Her eyes were sullen and red, swollen with empty tears. Lon'qu cringed back. "Lady Lissa..."
There was a ghost of a pout. "I know, I know. My appearance right now looks horrible!" Her voice lowered, "Please, don't talk about it." It was a supplication. Lon'qu understood it, perhaps because he used similar aversions. Please, I don't want to be reminded.
He coughed, skipping around the subject, "I'm here for something." His explanation was dry and distant. Then, as he stared at Lissa's growing incertitude, he elaborated, "Do you, per chance, have a remedy for scars?"
The cleric stood at the doorway, pondering. She looked back into her ward, seemingly scanning the contents of the shelves. Lon'qu's eyes followed readily, waiting and hoping for a positive answer. None came. "I'm so sorry," Lissa faced the myrmidon, shaking her head, "I don't think we have anything like that."
"Oh," was Lon'qu's shockingly despondent response.
Lissa saw the crestfallen expression paint onto Lon'qu's features. She but her lip and attempted to soothe the swordsman, despite her erratic state. "I-I can ask Maribelle, though. She has her own personal collection of tonic and salves, so maybe she has a treatment." The princess frowned. It didn't seem to adorn her face; Lon'qu found himself more used to a grin rather than her current bleak face. "If it can't wait, we have extra room in here. Do you want me to take a look?" She opened the door wider.
"No." Lon'qu answered immediately, just wanting nothing more than to go to his next painful destination. The faster he got this done, the faster he could get away from these blasted women. "It's not me who needs it... I'll go to Maribelle myself. Thank you for your help."
The princess panicked as Lon'qu turned. Her hand reached out suddenly, snatching the man's wrist. Lon'qu physically flinched as if in agony. "Wait - " she began
"Unhand me!" Lon'qu wailed, giving no chance for Lissa to speak. He violently ripped his arm out of the princess's grip. The action caused her to fall forward, stumbling into the ground. Lon'qu blanched as he watched Ylisse royalty plunge into the unforgiving dirt.
She landed sloppily, emitting a high, "Yowch!" as her body made contact. Lon'qu stood shellshocked. He twitched as the princess pulled herself up, wincing as she did so. "Aw man..." She complained.
Lon'qu first looked around to see if anyone witnessed his colossal mistake. Luckily, there was no one in the vicinity. Then, the blushing gynophobe willed himself to squat in front of the fallen girl. He did not offer a hand of assistance. "I deeply apologize for... shoving you." He was aware of how awful he was treating Lissa, yet he couldn't find it in himself to change his attitude.
"It's okay." Thank the Gods; the Ylisse princess forgave him. She pulled herself off the ground, using the tent's frame for support. Lon'qu stood as well, still awkwardly fidgeting over the the state of affairs he had been a catalyst to. "It was my fault. I kinda forgot about you fear."
"No, I'm at fault. I should not have overreacted in such a manner."
"I'm telling you," Lissa insisted, brushing dirt and dried blood off her attire, "I should've remember. Especially with how you treat me." Lon'qu stiffened and opened his mouth to retaliate, but Lissa held up a hand to silence him. The myrmidon obeyed and muted. "I was just teasing. I know under all that gruff, Ferox exterior is a big ole' softie!" The cleric beamed, trying her best to revert to her playful persona.
It was empty. Lon'qu noticed right away; the princess's grin was hollow. He didn't bring it up however, remembering the plea presented to him earlier, 'Please don't talk about it.' Instead he accepted Lissa's buoyant jab and asked one more time, "Are you positive you're not injured?"
Lissa shook her head. "Nope! I'm as right as rain." Her smile faded. "Um... But - I know that it's troublesome - I was just wondering, would it be okay - I mean... Can I - or is it too much for you to bear - for me to, maybe, possibly - you're allowed to refuse - "
"You've lost me in your speech." Lon'qu interjected. Lissa silenced and dipped her head down, blushing furiously. The swordsman clicked his tongue, unsure what to make of this or how to handle the predicament. "Ah, start again. I will hear you out, Lady Lissa."
"Ugh, I've told you before. You don't have to address me so fancy-like." The princess puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms, face still burning. Her round eyes trailed up Lon'qu's figure, maintaining eye contact once again. She leaned forward, stubbornly challenging Lon'qu and prompting him to edge backward. "Drop the title. I'm just Lissa with the Shepards."
"I see." Lon'qu replied not exactly sure if he would comply with that request. He was arched in a tricky position, not so subtly avoiding the cleric's space. "S-Still, you were saying?"
Lissa finally submitted, allowing Lon'qu to breathe once more. She wasn't reduced to the flushing mess from prior, yet she was still strides more sheepish. "I was just going to ask... if I could accompany you to Maribelle's tent." Her speech changed. "It's lonely here. Libra is convalescing from his failed campaign, and Maribelle is obviously in her own tent. And I would like a companion to walk with." She finished her elucidation indignantly, yet her submissive edge and formal speech lingered.
The myrmidon was puzzled by her change, but he didn't bother with that. He was pondering the assets and liabilities of bringing the princess along with him. On one hand, she would provide an adequate distraction for Maribelle, allowing Lon'qu freedom from one-on-one conversations with that of the opposite sex.
On the other hand, however, he would have to endure the trip to Maribelle's tent. Alone, only with the company of a women. Lon'qu would rather fight Basilio and Frederick together to the death with no weapon in hand tied to a tree with crows pecking out his eyes and angry wyrverns on either side of him. A trial like that would be child's play compared to a ten minute walk with Lissa.
Lon'qu weighed the options' benefits and hardships, honestly torn on what to say. What to do? Unfortunately, before he could decide, Lissa had lost her patience. She frowned and whined, "Is it really that difficult of a decision to make?" pulling the gynophobe out of his thoughts. The princess faced Lon'qu head on, though kept reasonable space. "I'll answer for you, then. Lon'qu, this is a direct order from the Princess of Ylisse. You must escort me to Maribelle's tent."
The myrmidon scowled, knowing it was settled. Now, it was royalty asking. Refusing her would be like refusing direct orders from Chrom. Lon'qu had already established that he would obediently satisfy any command given to him.
"Nnngh... Fine! I will usher you. But I demand ample space... Ample!" Lon'qu surrendered, and Lissa did a very unladylike fist pump followed by an excited cheer. "And silence! I do not wish to engage in pointless conversation the entire trip." Lon'qu promptly turned on his heel and, dissatisfied, sauntered toward his destination.
As Lissa followed the rigid swordsman, she immediately disobliged in his requisition. She bubbly remained at Lon'qu's side, asking meaningless questions, "So, were you going to allow me to accompany you if I didn't give the order? Is this really that bad? I, for one, am fond of walking and chatting with my comrades - "
"And I, for one, am not."
"Aw, don't be like that!" Lissa raised her arm, looking ready to heartily pat Lon'qu on the shoulder, but stopped when she remembered who she was with. Fortunately, the myrmidon hadn't noticed her odd movements.
"Hey, hey." The princess picked up her stride to get ahead of Lon'qu, making sure that she could behold his expression. It was sour, more so than the days-old jerky they had partaken in yesterday. "Who're you getting the salve for?"
Lon'qu's tramp became arduous, even more unbearable than before. He looked upon the princess and sighed. He could not tell her. No matter how much he wished to inform someone, this was Robin's knot. He couldn't just tell anyone slovenly, not until he had a firm grasp on the situation.
In addition, the myrmidon had a more selfish motive. He relished the position he found himself in. Of course, he wished that such a problem concerning Robin's wellbeing, physically and mentally, didn't exist, but he could help but take delight in knowing he was the only one the untouchable tactician could confine to. It was the equivalent to a child monopolizing his crony, sealing him away for only himself. It was narcissistic, underhanded, wrong. Yet Lon'qu was hooked on the feeling.
"It's none of your concern." Lon'qu answered curtly. He looked past the invasive princess, watching as they approached a plethora of tents. He stopped.
"Oh, don't be like that! If it's serious, I should - hey, why'd you stop?" Lissa hadn't realized that Lon'qu paused and was now a deal ahead of him. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing's amiss." He lied. To Lissa, the scene before him looked ordinary. She didn't see the one underlying problem. Lon'qu silently curse. "Listen, La - Lissa. I need to take care of something quickly." With a grim face, Lon'qu started up again. His pace was speedy as he passed Lissa. "Please continue to Maribelle's and ask about that remedy for me."
"Hey, wait." Courteously, Lissa did not grab Lon'qu like before. The swordsman was forever grateful for that matter. He was not grateful, however, for the pesky princess to continue following him. "What's wrong? You promised to walk with me!"
Lon'qu stopped suddenly and faced his follower. "Listen. I can't explain right now, but this is extremely important." He gave her a look, hoping his expression could paint a clearer picture than his words. "I really need you to go onto Maribelle's while I take care of this."
"But - " Lissa pouted. She kicked at the dirt before responding. "Fine. You owe me for this, though." Lon'qu flashed one of his rare half-smiles as Lissa turned. "I don't know what's so, very important, but make sure to get it done, okay?"
"You have my thanks." Lon'qu called after the princess began walking. She raised an arm in acknowledgement. The moment Lon'qu saw that, he bolted in the opposite direction. As Lissa headed further into the mess of tents, the myrmidon sprinted to the lone figure trudging aimlessly.
Lon'qu's features twisted into something akin to radical concern and mild frustration. "Robin!" He bellowed before he could stop himself. He had a revelation then. He's never yelled at someone so many times in a single day. It was certainly exhausting "Robin!"
"Huh?" The white-haired tactician whirled to see his caller. His face paled as he recognized the hasten figure. "Lon'qu - "
The myrmidon halted in front of the shaken male, breathing heavily. He gulped, trying his best to recapture his lost bearings. He had a million reproofs stuck in his throat, but the one that emerged was, "I told you not to leave."
"I apologize." Robin immediately answered, trying to soothe the ragged swordsman. "I left a note on my cot; I have a war council tonight. It slipped my mind until recently." Robin furrowed his brow and looked in the direction of the strategy tent. "I believe I'm running late."
Lon'qu wanted to squall that it didn't matter. He was petrified when he saw Robin. He - He... Running through his reasoning, the myrmidon came to the realization that his reaction was a bit over-the-top. Sure, Robin had went against his order, but it was for a pure reason. Still, Lon'qu couldn't help but feel the unnecessary panic and fear flow throughout his system.
"I-I see." He replied, swallowing another lump in his throat. "I don't know why I yelled. I just saw you and - "
"No, I'm at fault. I feared that you would alarm when you saw me missing."
"I overreacted - "
"It's fine, I assure you."
Lon'qu was malcontent with Robin's comforting words, yet dropped it nonetheless. He straightened and looked upon the tactician, observing. He looked well enough, masking a period of crying with a fresh expression. His coat was mended, by who or how, Lon'qu was unsure. Perhaps Robin had done it himself. In between his masking sleeves were rolls of maps. Etchings of Plegian landscapes could be spotted fading through the back.
"Is this...?" Lon'qu questioned, unsure what to call it. He couldn't be any less unfamiliar with the desert sands the group currently resided in. What he did know, however, was that the battle between the Mad King and newly crowned Exalt would take place on Plegia's territory.
Robin nodded and shuffled the rolls in his grasp. "It's a map of Border Sands. It seems that Gangrel has his sights set on the area, for his army is marching as we speak." The tactician allowed a small smile to grace his face. "What he doesn't know is that we've maps of the terrain and it's traits. With this, I may be able to predict where he'll set reinforcements."
"That's good." Lon'qu had no idea how to add to the conversation, but he enjoyed watching Robin brighten as he talked tactics. "I'm sorry for keeping you; you said you were late?" Robin nodded and Lon'qu's expression fell apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'll walk you to the meeting and take full responsibility - "
"That's not necessary." Robin combated, utterance not containing one bit of malice. "Though, I would appreciate the company." Lon'qu was ready to refute and take the blame, but Robin stopped him. "It won't become a spectacle if I arrive a few minutes late. I'll fabricate a good excuse."
The white-haired male then winked at Lon'qu inciting a growing blush. It was so unfair, how easily Lon'qu was entranced by his gestures. Whether Robin noticed or not didn't matter, for he didn't comment on it. He simply began walking, slow enough for Lon'qu to start up. Soon the two were strolling side by side.
"I'm guessing by your empty hands that the medical tent didn't have any remedy." Robin started up conversing once more, looking at the myrmidon with a pleasant expression despite his ill hypothesis. Lon'qu wasn't sure if it was because the former was trying to keep their talk uplifting or if he was gratified with his empty result. He hoped it wasn't the latter.
"No, but Lady Lissa is checking with her troubadour friend if she has anything." Lon'qu replied coolly and was caught off guard when a light chuckle rang in his ears. "What?"
Robin beamed, playing with the scrolls on his arms. "It's just... You have this strange habit of referring to other people so distantly. I find it humorous."
"Humorous?" The myrmidon most definitely did not view himself as funny, but was glad that his statement incited laughter from Robin. Even if it was no where near his intention.
Robin nodded. "Lady Lissa? Her troubadour friend? It's almost... cute." If it were anyone else saying his manner of speech was cute, Lon'qu would be tempted to have a sword at their throat, demanding for them to shut up. It was Robin, though, and such a comment only furthered his lingering flush. He turned his head in a pathetic attempt to conceal his embarrassment. "You pretend to distance yourself, yet you can't seem to deny that you've grown close to everyone."
"I don't with you." Lon'qu had meant to deny Robin's claim, but he couldn't help to point out his casual manner around the tactician. Robin looked at the cherry swordsman with confusion. "I-I simply call you by your name. That's all there is to it."
He didn't know what he was trying to imply. Maybe that he was closer to Robin than anyone else? He wasn't sure, but he did remember the first few instances talking to and about Robin. He did have that habit, even referring to him curtly as 'tactician.'
When asked about his opinion of Robin, he would respond, 'I have faith in the tactician.' When replying to Robin, he would never speak his name. When he did speak his name, it was to others and followed by his title, tactician. Never just Robin. Because he used to called another simply by her name. Her fate was sealed.
Lon'qu never realized that he picked up two things from Ke'ri's death. His aversion to women and his stubborn distance with names. It was a curious thing, but not completely unexpected.
"I never realized." Robin ripped Lon'qu out of his self-inquisition. The myrmidon glanced at the white-haired man, watching to see his reaction. It was a growing smile. "I see, then that makes me happy. I guess I'm pretty special to you." He said it off-handed with a small chuckle.
He had no idea. "Yes. You are." Lon'qu concluded as they came upon the large tent. Chattering could be heard from inside, though it wasn't like the merry talk that would usually bustle from the Shepard's camp. This was filled with advisors, strategists, a wary knight, and a young Exalt. It was eons different than the smaller meetings where other members of the Shepards would attend. This get together was meant only for those with influence. Robin would be heading in.
"Thank you." Robin spewed before stopping at the entrance. Lon'qu felt the thanks wasn't given because of his escorting. "I'm... pretty irrational sometimes, huh?"
"Yes." Lon'qu bluntly responded earning another nervous laugh. He didn't end it there, however. He instinctively reached out and lightly grabbed Robin's shoulder. Again, the gesture surprised the two males, but Lon'qu didn't yield this time. "I-I'll go check with La - Lissa for the salve."
"I see."
"I'll be awaiting in your tent. We'll talk then." Lon'qu was serious.
"The ever silent Lon'qu initiating a chat? Now I know I've messed up." Robin jested, but then his tone grew softer. "Thank you, my friend. I am... uncomfortable with this topic, but I acknowledge that you won't back down. And for that... I appreciate it."
Robin's hand lifted to lay on Lon'qu's wrist. He gave it a reassuring squeeze before removing the myrmidon's grip on his shoulder. Lon'qu willed himself not to blush once more as his companion turned to enter the tent. He stood there for a while, even after Robin was no longer there, face red, mind boggled, worry growing.
"Damnation." He muttered quietly before walking off to meet with the Ylisse princess and her troublesome friend.