Do I, a mere stranger, truly belong here with the shepherds?

I ask myself again and again. Day in, day out. I wonder, how long will it take for me to fully ease in with all these nobles? To put a strong front in front of others can get tiring. But who am I to begin with? Is it possible for me to actually be a noble and have just forgotten it from my accident? I mean, there's got to be a reason why I don't remember anything, right? Flower fortunes, expensive armor, high-quality tea: all of these are so foreign to me. They escape me. I know nothing of what it means to be part of the higher class. These painful thoughts permeate my thoughts more often than the strategies I plan alongside Chrom. He has become so important to me. Somewhere in those late night meetings over coffee, I have fallen in love with him. His charming smile, his kindness, his strong convictions, in a way, I could say that these are my first memories. They are my treasure.

There is no doubt in my mind that this is what I should be doing. I choose to be here. I have no regrets. Despite the fact that I am now involved in a war, I am content. Would it be wrong to say that this is where I find my peace? If I was not here, where would I be? However, am I doomed to continue questioning my place and stature? The more I ask myself these questions, the more disconnected I feel with the others.

"Oh, Gods! This is probably the worst out of the bunch." I could feel my face contorting in different directions after taking a nibble out of one of the pies I just made. How revolting! I grab my sack, supposedly for leftovers - probably just for trash now, and spit it all out. Disgusting! After gulping a large amount of water, I notice orange feather-like clouds amidst the deep blue hue on the sky. It is nearing nighttime. Baking those pies must have taken me the whole day. Did I overestimate my level of cooking? I breathe a heavy sigh. On my lap is my third attempt at baking. It looks edible. At least it's something I can be proud of. Perhaps I could show this pie off and should anyone asks to try it, I could easily brush them off and say that I made it just for me. Still. It sounds a bit ridiculous. At the very least, there is peace here in this side of the forest where I choose to situate myself. It is away from the camp but not unreasonably so. My mind is free. I feel the cold wind breeze and remember all the times I would gather all my cooking supplies stealthily whilst traveling. I remember sneaking out at night just to check if my ingredients were safe in tact at the convoy.

Chrom...

It's just been months since I fell in love with Chrom. I desire nothing less than to be the perfect lady for a person of his stature. Or at least be able to stand beside him without feeling a hint of pity. Should Chrom fall in love with someone else, that would be fine for me. Admittedly, it would hurt a lot. But right now, it is enough that I serve him the best way I can for he took me in without hesitation when I was at my weakest.

Chrom once said to me, "It's just my image of a lady is someone so prim and proper… perfumed, and pretty… Nothing like you at all! When I look at you, I don't see a 'lady'."

Then what am I to you, Chrom? Some hillbilly you adopted out of the blue who just happened to have forgotten all her memories and knows how to strategize well? Am I just a tool for you, your highness?

Perhaps, that is all I ever will be. But still… I would like to take my chances. A part of me wants to say, "I will always take my chances on you, Chrom." even though it feels impossible.

"Blech! Too salty! What in the name of Naga did I do to make such a pie?! I don't even recall adding salt!" I toss the pie inside the sack along with my other rejected pies. I feel disappointment rush over me. These are definitely going into the incinerator. Well, I guess I could bury it somewhere around here. I need to destroy all these evidence. I might get mocked for not being able to know how to cook. For not being a proper lady. As the day turns into the night, I yell out all my frustrations.

"Why wasn't I born as some fancy noble?!" "Who am I?!"

Months ago, when I woke-up on the meadows, I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing and my instincts. The two were all I had, and I felt content. But upon watching Sumia bake pies and serving them to Chrom made my heart drop. I will never forget the image of the two of them together smiling as Chrom reached with his fork and dug onto the pie. It was almost too perfect. The image has been embedded inside my head that I can't seem to forget it any longer. He finished the whole thing in less than 5 minutes. I remember the feeling of clutching my tome onto my chest so hard. I was filled with so much envy as I watched the whole thing unfolded from a hole on the tent. It was something like a thief would do. I was unmistakably an outsider.

"I-is this a strand of hair? Gods! It's not even my hair color!" I quiver as I pull a long blonde strand out of the center. Must be Lissa's. But how did it even get there?

I will never have pies again for the rest of my life! This is a promise.

SPLAT!

W-wait. What was that? "Ah, no!" I shriek from the top of my lungs when I see my hands and books completely covered in the pie pilling. I, apparently, started smashing the pie with my bare hands unconsciously. This is what happens when I let my thoughts get the best of me. "Gods!" I pathetically begin wiping my hands everywhere — the leaves surrounding me, the ground even the tree I was leaning on. It's a good thing only me and Naga can see me like this. So hopelessly pitiful! To think I saved up for this book for a long time and Chrom even lent me some of the money I was missing to buy it from a traveling merchant on the way to a mission. Now it's all covered with burnt filling and pieces of crust everywhere.

"Here."

Who's there?

"H-Huh?" I turn my back to see a familiar and distinct figure. I spot someone's hands reaching out to me with a red cloth of sorts. I look up, my eyes squinting from the brightness of the moon. The very first thing I notice are his eyes with the moon's light illuminating on them. I take the red cloth from his hands unknowingly. "Oh, Lon'qu." As I was about to stand up to show respect, both of my legs cramp up. "A-ah my legs! Anyway, you shouldn't be here at this time of night. It's almost dinnertime... They are probably looking for you back in camp."

Awkward...

"Pies." he says in a low flat voice. Wait... was I supposed to respond to that? Is that even possible? "Tch." A certain aura surrounds us. He is one of the most recent arrivals among the shepherds. I do not know much about him except for the fact that he is an exceptional fighter. Also, he dislikes women. He can be most seen on his own training. I better tread carefully to make sure I don't embarrass myself even further. I follow his gaze and see them on my reject pie sack. Could he be judging me from my ruined pies?

Okay, conversation. Start a conversation, Robin!

"I-I heard... I mean, read from this book that this pie I was making can make you a better tactician you see. I know what you're thinking. I'm pitiful, right? Well, I'll try harder next time. All my pies taste so vastly different from each even if I used the same recipe. Could it be possible that I was hexed? Ha ha ha!" Mission to not embarrass myself: FAILED. You get an absolute 0 there, self. It's possible he heard everything you were screaming out earlier. How much shameful can I get?

Please, Lon'qu, just leave so I can throw all these pies down the pond.

"I don't care." he mumbles as he walks away deeper into the forest. What? That's all he says? I notice the details of his clothing and the outline of his back. His armor glistening as he walks in a straight path with no form of hesitation.

"It's probably not a good idea to go deeper into the forest at this hour!" I call out.

There was no response.

Oh well.

I slump my back on the tree once again and begin trying the last pie. "Yuck. Now this one is too sweet. Wait. How did a Bouillon piece get in here?!" Well, at least this pie tasted okay. Sort-of.

As I dig into my pie, my thoughts center itself on Lon'qu. He's a dangerous myrmidon but I cannot sense any negative aura from him. I thought my instincts were at its peak. How could I have not noticed him? Was he just passing by? Was he here to begin with? Did I interrupt his trying? Does he think I am a fool? I hold onto the vibrant piece of cloth he gave me. I could not bear to soil it with my disgusting pie. Instead, I wash my hands on the pond and tuck it inside my pocket for safekeeping.

Next time, I will be listening.

(Author's Note: When I first started playing FE:A, I immediately wanted to marry Lon'qu but I never did get the chance to do so! Perhaps this chapter/story was a manifestation of that. I've always wanted to see a wackier side of Robin, so I created her to be a bit more on the funnier side. She seems to be on the more calculating/mature side most of the time, but I want to believe that it's all a facade. I don't know where this story is going and nothing is set in stone. Join me for the ride? /o/)