"Oi, big brother!" touted a sensual voice. "Getting ready to dirty your hands, are you?
Robin was standing in front of the heavy double doors, replacing his heavy cloak on his shoulders and his famed crown named Grima's Fangs atop his head, when his sister arrived. He turned his head towards the source of her voice, a grin on his face.
"Fancy my place?"
His sister, Aversa, grimaced, the only time her complexion lost the perfection she tried so hard to keep.
"As if I'll ever get anything of me dirty, not even my weapons, that's why I fancy magic, blast'em to bits from a long range..."
A smile tugged the corner of his lips again as he looked down at his clothes, flattening his shirt. He felt her hand on his shoulder and slowly slither down his chest.
"Don't forget to bath after your done, I don't want my big brother to get infected..."
"You're unbelievable..."
Aversa chuckled in his ear.
"That's why I'm feared all across Plegia."
He plucked her hand off his chest, a smile written across his face.
"I have to go."
And he walked through the double doors that guards opened for him, leaving a pouting, regal woman behind.
The Throne Room in itself wasn't a room exactly, more like never ending hallway, sided by archways and mezzanines on the second floor and it was all crossed by other never ending hall ways which gave the impression of a maze-like palace. The Throne was seated at the end of the Grand Hallway, right in front of a high bay window which purpose was to set ablaze the Throne Room at sunset.
The College of Pontiffs was already waiting for him beside the King's Throne. True, Plegia's throne wasn't his, but King Gangrel's, but as Grima's avatar, he had every right to sit upon the Throne, even kick the king out if he so desired.
But that would be unnecessary and his father, Validar, was having way too much fun with Gangrel. The puppet danced under his father's strings.
The clergy fell to their knees when he sat down on the Throne. No word was needed: an a bishop handed him his ceremonial tome and they all took their position on each side of his seat, head bent. Robin remained seated, back straight, chin jutting out, eyes locked onto the horizon, his marked hand resting on his chest and the other laid atop the tome on his lap.
Across the Throne Room, the guards opened the doors to let the guest in.
Slightly squinting, Robin could see it was a woman, limping and slightly slouched. but as she came nearer, he could see her steely stare, cold and hiding barely her pain. She was as neat as he expected a village woman to be: bags under her eyes, stains on her hands, stretched skin over her cheekbones, skin burnt by the desert sun, grubby robes that she tried to clean for the occasion... sickly looking
But her eyes...
He didn't trust her.
So he keep his hand close to his tome, Grima's Truth, just in case of rebellion. It had already happened and the peasant's end had been messy. But this one was well surrounded, by the clergy who were by no mean helpless in a fight and escorted by two well-armed guards.
The woman knelt before him, her gaze on the floor and she tried to stand back up, a guard dealt her a sharp blow to the back of her knees and she sprawled on the marble floor again.
"Your Divine Highness Grima, this is Ayan of Raye's region, widow of Nyck, a faithful defender of Plegia and the Grimleal. He died two weeks ago, defending an esteemed Grimleal member.
Robin nodded.
So this woman was here in her late husband stead to receive the grace of Grima. He had done blessings like this dozens and dozens of times.
Just a day like the others.
Not long after his birth, when the Grimleal and Plegia were celebrating, the neighbouring halidom, Ylisse, declared a holy war on Plegia. It had been a massacre and Plegia had lost more than the enemy. Entire villages decimated, families slaughtered...the streets smelt of blood, gore and desolation for many years. Nothing had been ceased or brought back by the enemy. It was just killings.
Looking back, veterans and historians recognized it was more of a genocide than a war. The goals held by Ylisse's Exalt were too kill the "heathens"...the worshippers of the Fell Dragon.
Many Grimleal members had fell during the genocide, even the secret ones.
Thankfully, destiny had avenged them and they found the Exalt, fallen from an arrow in the eye in a battlefield.
Since then, Ylisse had returned to its peace with plegian blood on their hands while Plegia gathered its broken limbs under itself to walk again. Afraid and lost, they turned their hope and devotion to Grima, to the young Robin, who had mercifully stayed safe during the war.
And so he began his role of Plegia's hierophant, Grima's heart and body...
He scrubbed himself raw, having discarded the loaf a while ago in favor of his nails for a deep cleaning. Feeling that his skin was red enough, he sank in the hot water till his chin hovered above the surface and let his skin buzz in frustration from the warm water. Robin sighed and dunked his silver-haired head under the pool sized tub.
The ceremony hadn't been long: he recited a few prayers, blessed the woman and she then took her leave. And everything ended with the celebration of the Union, a recital of three prayers with the College.
After that, following Aversa's demand, he took a bath... He later discovered it wasn't only to get rid of the filth...
"Would you mind if you could just stop staring"
A smile responded to him a few meters away.
"Is it a sin?"
"I might make it one!"
She chuckled and walked around the edge of the bath and knelt behind him. Her svelte arms hugged him from behind, around his neck and she lightly bit his ear, sensually.
"Stop it."
Her breath on his neck only made him shiver.
She only pulled on his lobe even more and he felt her grin against his hair. Groaning, he fought against her grip and caresses and waddled in the center of the bath once freed. He glared at her and she just smiled, laid down and draped her arms over the pool's edge.
"Who would've have thought the Great Grima looked adorable blushing like that. "
Robin sulked and grimaced.
He was never sure how to react to her: hate her, love her? He never knew. But he clearly knew what she wanted from him though. She never truly have been his sister. His father had spotted her in a village a year after the end of the war, fighting off rioters. She fought like a wild wyvern, Validar had told him, untamed and fiery.
He had to harness its fury, he had said.
So he brought her to Plegia's capital and took her under his wing for the first three years of her training then left her under the tutelage of experienced generals and sages. She carved herself a name throughout her teens, but others rose to try and steal her fame and take the highest spot under the eye the King and High Priests...and hierophant as well.
So Aversa struggled to keep her comfortable life so she clung to her last resource: Him.
Not that her attention truly bothered him. She never went further than shameless teasing and it was better like this.
Aversa tilted her head, still grinning.
"You have nothing to say, your "Felliness?"
"Get me a towel..."
"You mean...this?"
She held out the towel he had left on the armchair near the bath. Robin swam to the edge and stretched to get the cloth.
"Oops!" the towel slipped from her fingers and landed a tad too far from his reach. Her grin faded when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. With a sigh, she pushed the towel closer to him. "You're no fun."
Robin dabbed at his wet face and waited for Aversa to leave the bathroom to dry himself completely and get dressed in a more casual set of clothes: a white tunic, trimmed with intricate black designs, a heavy leather belt hugged his waist over a silk purple sash. He readjusted his hair and short black vest over his shoulders, satisfied, he exited the steamy room. Aversa had left his quarters so he found himself alone in his vast bedroom, surrounded by slim windows that gazed out on the Plegian capital.
Sighing, he left to his study to examine a few books about magic as his father pressured him to do when he had free time.
The walls of his study were covered by massive bookshelves, filled with holy books, magic, science, tactics and defense books. Everything that could be useful to him as Grima's avatar.
After a few hours he got bored of reading on a study of the Nosferatu tomes and the best use of them. So he switched to reading researches on Manaketes and dragon stones.
"As I said earlier, King Gangrel is only doing half-hearted attempts to get the Fire Emblem into our hands. Bandits! He got to step it up!"
"What do you suggest Neruson? We don't have a functioning army since the last war!"
Robin looked to his meal, various marinade meats, goat, lamb and fish. All in different bowls. He currently had the fish bowl in his left hand and took small bites while observed the mayhem on the lower dais. He had the same show every day: the highest members would meet at the palace for dinner. They would talk argue and obsess over the might of Grima and its resurrection while Robin watched from afar, in the shadows of the highest platform, as his father instructed. In his younger years it was fascinating to hear the most influential people in the kingdom interacted, but he soon saw the poison lurking behind their words.
" I'm not an idiot, Ardri! I know we cannot instigate a war right now and that the Grimleal ust stay hidden. But still, we can't get let time flies by forever! The Grimleal finally has Master Grima's blood and heart in the same flesh!
Robin frowned and smashed his fish against the porcelain with his chopsticks. It always ended like this.
"Enjoying hearing about your future?"
Robin recognized the regal voice immediately and smiled lightly.
"Hello father", he swallowed his bite. "It's a bit disturbing hearing old men talking about my future, without even knowing I'm here."
Validar chuckled, sat beside him and picked a few raisins from the fruit bowl on the low table.
"They do know you're here, but it would be rude of them to address you."
Robin grunted and returned to his meal while his father picked out a few fruits out of his son's course: he didn't mind.
For the rest of dinner, the clergy continued talking and ranting about the "half assed" attempts to start a war while Validar did a check up in Robin's studies.
"But seriously father... I don't understand why I have to make researches on dragonstones? Manaketes are extremely rare, therefore learning about fighting them is a bit... useless..."
Robin swallowed nervously as he saw a shadow pass over his father's eyes.
"Sorry, I know I should learn the most as I can but-"
"You clearly did not understand what you read."
"Uh?" He tried to push away the sting of embarrassment.
"The dragonstones are precious sources of magic untapped and they only respond to certain individuals."
"But how-"
Oh...
He couldn't suppress the shiver that shook him. He had Grima's blood and heart, an ancient and godly dragon. He never knew he could tap into the power of Manaketes.
"So you mean I could shift into G-"
"Of course not! If it were the case we wouldn't be hunting the Emblem!"
"Ah"
Robin felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment.
Of course...
Nothing could be that simple.