Summary: In a strange reversal of fates, Ylisse, ruled by the vain and self-styled King Marth, begins a war of aggression against Plegia. Enter Robin, Prince of Plegia, Mage Almighty, Swordsman Extraordinaire. With a knack for changing fates, Robin must captain his own band of soldiers to combat this threat, even as more trouble brews unseen. And where is Chrom in all this? AU fem!Chrom
Chapter One: Midnight Encounters
"War? It's an enjoyable activity to practice and prepare for, young prince, but even as a general, I always dread the beginning of one." - Mustafa, to a young Robin.
Stretching slightly, Robin let out a sigh as he relaxed, seeking solace from the cold as he draped himself over a stone bench in the castle courtyard. For all its daily heat, at night Castle Plegia was a veritable icebox, chilling Robin to the bone. Only his trusty cloak, draped securely over his body, kept the frigid air away.
It had been a near-catastrophe earlier, Robin knew. Only several days had passed since he had met with the Ylissean soldiers posing as bandits near the border. They had captured Camparia, the daughter of the famed general, Mustafa, and cousin to Robin. King Marth, leader of Ylisse, claimed that the soldiers found no backing under him, but plentiful taguel slave-warriors had been present.
Robin sighed again. The taguel had always been the unfortunate ones on whatever side of the Plegia-Ylisse conflict they found themselves. For having their own rabbit feet, they were really unlucky. Robin hoped they could find peace one day. It was unlikely though, as long as King Marth reigned.
Having named himself after the Hero-King of Legend, the current Marth was a vile and twisted man. Living a life of debauchery in spite of the so-called "virtue" he was sworn to uphold as the Exalt of Naga, he drained the royal treasury dry and looked to be searching for funding in form of "liberating" the material possessions of Plegian farmers.
Robin had been with his father, uncle, and cousin as they toured the devastation and brought aid when the Ylisseans attacked. They were easily beaten off by the elite Grimleal guard that protected the King, but Camparia had been the true objective of the ambush. Finding her taken and missing at the end of the quick battle, Mustafa had made to race in pursuit.
Both Validar and Robin had been wary of another ambush. Knowing that arguing now would only lengthen the distance between them and Camparia, it was hastily agreed that Validar and Mustafa would pursue, while Robin and his three guards would return to Castle Plegia. Robin had scoffed at the faulty reasoning Validar had given to decide it.
'We can't have the entire Plegian royal family running headfirst into another ambush. We'd better send you back, Robin. Not that any Ylissean rabble could stand against the Mage King of Plegia!' he had laughed.
Robin shook his head again. Those were horrible tactics. The king did not expose himself to danger (much less an almost guaranteed ambush) to save another piece, even if said piece was Robin's beloved cousin and part of the royal family.
Laying across stone bench, Robin made to stretch again, but suddenly stilled. He sensed a presence somewhere nearby, and for once, it wasn't his stalker Dark Mage who was assigned to his personal guard. Despite the warmth of his cloak, Robin shivered involuntarily at the thought of her.
This presence was different. It lacked the cold and damp feeling of someone walking over your grave that Robin was unhappily accustomed to. It was more… bright. A sort of sweet warmth that made Robin feel strange... But it wasn't an aura that was supposed to belong, not here in the courtyard of Castle Plegia in the dead of night, and Robin felt it getting closer, slinking behind stone pillars in the desert sand.
Whoever it was, he wasn't used to the way the sand shifted. Robin resisted the sudden urge to perk an eyebrow as he heard a muted curse as the stranger stumbled. Keeping himself very still, Robin mentally checked for the small tome in his coat pocket, and slowly reached down for the sword he wore at all times. Speculation over the unexpected visitor fought with the tactical planning in his mind as he began to think. Robin, wishing for privacy, had dismissed his personal guards, something he was beginning to regret. Calling out for the soldiers manning the walls now would lose him the chance to surprise this midnight marauder, and they would come running as reinforcements the moment Robin began to use any magic.
The presence was coming closer now, and Robin fought the urge to tense, waiting until the last possible moment to make his move. He would have to wait, he decided. Until the last moment, that way he could get the first strike in and make the best of this unforeseen altercation.
The person was very close now, closing in on a pillar near where Robin lay. A small, almost silent scuffle told him that the man was very, very close now. On the other side of the pillar just behind him? No, wait, maybe he was—
Shouting suddenly rang out in the silent night, breaking Robin's concentration and causing him to jerk up. Perhaps it was the guards, crying their dismay at an ambush. With his element of surprise now lost, Robin whirled up himself, silently leaping up off the bench and grabbing the sword in one hand as he did so, the other reaching into his pocket for the small tome. Eyes open now, Robin dashed forward, sword ready in hand, ready to skewer the Assassin, no doubt a member of some band that dared attack the castle now, when most of the royal guard were out in the field with their King.
But whoever he was, it seemed he had his own plans in mind. Robin mentally cursed his own initiative as he crashed into the man, who had been darting to the next column nearby. Why hadn't Robin just stepped back and wait for the intruder to reveal himself?
The two crashed, knocking heads together as they fell in a pile. Element of surprise nonexistent now, Robin felt himself land on top of his assailant, sword falling somewhere aside as the tome was crushed underhand.
"Ow, what the— Get off me!" came a sudden cry from underneath, as Robin swore to himself as well, scrambling to get off the assassin. Grabbing the sword, but forced to leave the small tome in the dust and sand, Robin leapt away from his intended target.
As per his Tactician training, time seemed to slow for a second as Robin considered his next move. The stranger wasn't the most graceful of assassins. That could have been the difference between Robin living and dying in those last seconds. The stranger was armed with a sword, sheathed at his hip. Little armor, only form-fitting leather meant for stealth. On the shoulders, steel spikes in place of heavy pauldrons, as much as for offense as defense. It wouldn't have mattered had Robin kept his tome, armored or not, but with only the sword in hand, Robin thanked Grima for small mercies.
Robin's eyes flickered across the scene before him once more, still considering. No more than a second or so had passed, yet his mind continued in overdrive. His target was rubbing his head, face grimaced in pain. He was shorter, it seemed, but not without a steely strength in limb, and… a rather pretty face. Good complexion, fair skin, and blue hair, slightly long for a man, kept out of the eye with a taut headband.
Errantly, a stray thought crossed Robin's mind, breaking his Tactician's mindset. 'For a man, he could give Tharja a run for her coin. He's really good-looking.' Said good-looking man continued to rub his head, wincing in pain.
'Wait,' Robin thought, realization upon him. 'Wait a minute. He's not a he. He's a she.'
Eloquence aside, Robin was right, and about a girl no less (Robin could hear his mother Morgana's soft laughter from any(read: every) time Robin had been forced to interact(read: blunder) with a posh, older lady of the court), and his face began to burn. In retrospect, she was very scantily clad in the leather outfit, and she had been very close, almost as close as that one time Tharja had snuck up on him, trying to touch— That was not a memory for the present situation. Blushing madly, Robin stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and landing in a puff of sand.
It was strange. He saw more skin from Tharja every day, but it never bothered him before, not like this. Why would this random girl have such an effect on him?
Maybe it was because she was probably trying to kill him, Robin realized, and flushed redder, if it was possible. He had heard of fantasies of the sort, but to find out he was such a deviant...
Robin was startled out of his wild introspection when said probable murderer finally leapt up from the sand, headache finally cured with a lollipop whipped out from a bag at her waist.
No wait, this was bad. Why did he have to watch where she drew the lollipop from? 'Because I have to watch for threats,' Robin told himself. But now he was getting distracted by the way her body moved as she moved… as she… uhh…as she moved...
"Who are you?!" came a shriek, as the object of Robin's idle fantasies came whirling at him, sword drawn in a sharp line across Robin's neck.
Strange. He thought he was good at swordplay. How had she moved so fast? Where was his sword? Robin glanced towards his sword-hand, and found the weapon in question a foot away from where his hand rested, partially buried in the sand.
Well then. Diplomacy it is. Robin realized that perhaps it was unwise to admit you're the crown prince of Plegia to a Ylissean Assassin, but when she's gorgeous and has a sword to your throat... Famed as his tactics were, Robin didn't see another viable option open right now.
Gulping, Robin opened his mouth warily. "I'm Robin, Prince of Plegia," he began, but then Robin's eyes narrowed slightly as the absurdity of the situation finally hit him, grim consequences be damned. "Who are you? This is Castle Plegia and it is the dead of night—"
Robin found himself cut off and she leaned forward, pressing the blade's edge at him and forcing him to lean back, losing his balance and sprawling himself in the sand in an effort to get away from the sword at his neck.
'Obviously, this diplomacy thing will have to wait.' Robin thought dryly. Hopefully he'd still be alive then. He chanced a glance at his sword, but the Assassin in front of him reclaimed his attention easily.
With a fierce look on her face, standing over his body as though straddling him, the woman snarled at him. "Robin, Prince of Plegia? Hah!" She leaned in closer to him, an audacious scowl upon her lips. "More like Prince of Perverts, with the way you were looking at me earlier! Disgusting!"
Sputtering, Robin quickly felt his embarrassment at her insinuation turn into anger, then embarrassment again as he received a front row view of her form, just inches above him.
"Get off me! Don't call me a pervert when you're practically in my lap!" The words, combined with Robin suddenly furious movement, motivated the Assassin to leap back, allowing Robin to regain both his feet and his sword. With blade in hand, Robin assumed a guard stance, facing her. "Now tell me, criminal, who are you? Why are you here? And no tricks, I can have the guards here in an instant."
Her face impassive at those words, she lowered her sword slightly, gesturing to him with it. "You really are the prince then, huh? Figures you'd be arrogant, I should've known." Ignoring the beginnings of his indignant retort, she sheathed her sword as she continued. "My name is Chryme, and I'm no criminal!" she hissed, glaring at him.
Robin raised an eyebrow in spite of himself. Her name was Chryme? As in, crime? An Assassin named for what she committed, that was rich.
Taking a moment to compose herself, the misfortunately named girl answered Robin's questioning glance at her attire with a pout. "I just do some questionable things as times. That's all. Anyway, that's not the point. Circumstances aside, I'm here on important business actually, to—"
Whatever Chryme was about to say was cut off as she suddenly twisted and bent over backwards, dodging an angry scythe of wind magic cutting through the space she had occupied only moments prior. Robin moved too, clearing himself of any collateral danger as his head whirled to stare in the direction it came from. Though it was too dark to see the figure's face in the distance, Robin already knew who it was. There was no mistaking that icky feeling that settled over him as he involuntarily shivered. Tharja.
Tharja was a long time childhood playmate of Robin, along with Henry and Aversa. Being about the same age, the four had often adventured together throughout Castle Plegia and its grounds, whether it involved traversing the dusty libraries or finding giant desert lizards to hunt with sticks and stones. That was, they played together whenever they had downtime from practicing magic and studying from a young age to become Mages. Having blossomed into fearsome masters of magic in their own right, last year the trio had been given the responsibility of being personal guards to Robin, seeing as how dark magic could vary wildly with the amount of emotion invested into it. One of Robin's guards was particularly dedicated to her work.
And now said Dark Mage was briskly hurrying over to the two and readying another blast of wind magic, the faint green of the spell illuminating her torso. Though Robin couldn't actually see it, he knew there was a scowl gracing her face. There always was whenever Robin was in the presence of another female, as if her permanent monopoly on his company was going to ever change.
"Tharja, stand down! She's not a threat." Even as he said the words, his eyes flickered back to where said non-threat was taking cover from behind the bench Robin had been previously occupying, an unslung bow in hand and an arrow at the ready. Her eyes were calculating, he noticed, probably judging how to best close the distance between herself and Tharja to cut her down if need be.
Seeing as how quick she was, and how deft with the sword in hand, Robin moved between the two as Tharja finally closed the distance herself. Bad tactics for a Mage, Robin knew, but she always tended to lose a bit of her composure when it came to him.
Tharja came to a halt, her figure unnecessarily close to Robin's. Robin stifled an inner sigh. Ever since childhood, Tharja had maintained a strange fascination with Robin, seeking his presence and touch. It had been fun and games when they were kids and play-wrestling and tugging on hands to hide in closets. But there had been a line that Robin had drawn in the sand and Tharja had crossed it when he awoke one night to find her curled up next to him in bed, violet eyes sparkling mischievously in the shadows. That was when Robin realized Tharja's playful teasing about becoming his queen was no joke, not anymore (or perhaps it never was).
His cheeks coloring slightly at the memory, Robin did not intend to let his overzealous bodyguard brutalize this Assassin. Making sure that Tharja would not attack Chryme at her next opportunity, Robin turned to the leather-clad girl once more, covertly signaling 'it's okay' with his left hand, a system devised when they were kids to communicate when the stuffy old grownups were spoiling the fun.
"So, why was it you were here again? Something about important business?"
Defiantly, Chryme straightened a little, standing up from her cover of the bench. "I'm here because I'm here to warn you. It's no secret that the Ylissean people are buckling under the strain of King Marth's rule. I want to see him dethroned." Chryme took a shuddering breath, as though remembering some past tragedy. "I'm here to warn you that King Marth has mustered his armies and intends to conquer Plegia. The first step is capturing your father, King Validar."
"She's not lying, Robin." The sudden appearance of another voice startled Robin out of his reverie and he whirled around to find Aversa, complete with the regalia of a Dark Flier and a tome in hand, standing next to him. Swearing to himself, Robin gave her a critical look. Aversa prided herself on her elusiveness, preferring to go about undetected, and sensing Tharja's presence always seemed to take the edge off Robin's environmental awareness. Perhaps Tharja wanted Robin to sense her. It wouldn't have surprised him.
Aversa, dark golden eyes boring into Robin's own, dropped her proclamation. "It's the Ylisseans. A detachment of Paladins and Taguel slave-warriors captured your father an hour ago." She closed her eyes and took a breath, then continued. "I received word from Casper. The message was his dying words."
Casper had been a member of Validar's elite guard, a young man barely older than Robin himself and a boy Aversa had been sweet on. It was no easy feat of magic to send a message across long distances, requiring an intimate knowledge of the receiver and a great deal of magical power and concentration. If Casper had sent Aversa the message in the midst of an ambush, then it must as been as he was cut down by Ylissean lances and claws.
Robin gritted his teeth. He knew it, of course he knew it. Angrily running his hand through his hair, Robin turned away from Aversa even as he began to speak into the air. "Dammit! Grima below, of course. It's too late to mount any sort of rescue mission." Robin began to pace, mind whirling. "They have at least a five day head start on us with any ground force... I guess a wing of Wyvern Knights could hope to catch up, since they have prisoners, but I'd expect there to be Bow Knights if they have any shred of common sense.
"I guess we just have to wait for them to contact us. Aversa," Robin turned to the girl, her face impassive. "You should get some rest. Henry," for he had appeared as well, his smile ever present on his face, "Go alert the council. We'll have to begin preparing a ransom, because that's surely what Marth will want." Robin sighed. Hopefully the Exalt would be reasonable and predictable.
Aside, Chryme studied Robin with an unreadable expression on her face, and Robin turned back to her as his two friends made their way back into the castle. Chryme opened her mouth as though to say something, only to be cut off once more as another guard, this one armed with a lance and clad in metal armor, ran up to Robin.
"Prince Robin! A Ylissean Assassin is on the grounds! We've cornered her, but—" The man was cut off as the Assassin he hadn't detected on the grounds swore and turned in the direction he hadn't yet finished pointing in.
"Oh Naga! Lissa!" Ignoring the flabbergasted look on the guard's face, Chryme sprinted off.
Robin turned to the man in time to see the lance in hand fall to the ground. 'I swear, if this is the quality of the castle guards, then anyone could just waltz in whenever they wanted.' Regardless, Robin nodded at the man. "I see. Return to your post, and make sure to bring your lance with you."
"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Just... Sometimes I feel like it's wasted on me. Promise me you'll find another if I ever pass on. Please." - Casper, to Aversa.
Robin hurried after Chryme, and Tharja followed. They came across Chryme just as she burst in upon a crowd of guards threatening the Assassin they had found. Batting aside their lances with her hand, Chryme reached the center of the semicircle of men and grabbed ahold of the girl inside.
"Lissa, are you okay? Naga above, Emm will—" Chryme found herself muted as Lissa, the Trickster, (not an Assassin, not that the ever competent guards would notice, Robin thought) shushed her, her eyes on Robin as he arrived. Gesturing for the guards to return to their duties, Robin watched as Lissa pulled herself out of Chryme's grasp.
"I'm fine, I'm fine! Dodged every javelin they threw at me, don't worry. And don't call me Lissa! We agreed on codenames, didn't we?" Lissa sighed. "Oh, forget it. So this is the prince?"
Not waiting for Chryme to utter her assurances, Robin nodded. "Pleased to meet you Lissa. My name is Robin. I take it that you were the distraction that helped Chryme get into the castle?"
Lissa laughed, a melodic and bright sound. Robin could get used to that. "Yeah, I was! Not hard to distract your guards. I just screamed and ran in one direction." Grinning, Lissa gave Robin a once-over before allowing her face to drop the charming smile. "Let us help you. Chryme and I hate King Marth," she spat, the word sounding like venom. "He's a horrible dictator! We know our way around Ylisse, and we have connections. Chryme here is amazing with her sword and bow, and I can use healing staves and a blade myself."
This was all rather sudden, but all Robin needed to be sure was a rather reluctant nod from Tharja. He had signaled her to curse the two with a small truth hex. The lack of any stumbling had already proved the earnesty of her words (even if Robin would have already sworn by the expression on her face regardless). Robin liked to think he wasn't overly naive.
"I could use some inside knowledge of Ylisse, that's for sure. Alright, I believe you. I'll have some servants show you to some rooms. Come, it's late and we need to prepare to move tomorrow or the day after. It won't be long until Marth sends his condolences at our loss."
"Miracles? Sure, maybe they exist, but if you want me to rely on a miracle to win a battle, you'll want a different Tactician." - Robin
True to Robin's predictions, the next day saw a Ylissean courier arrive and drop off Marth's demands. Curiously, Chryme and Lissa had declined to be at the meeting, instead hiding behind curtains in order to hear and not be seen by him.
Acquiescing to the strangely reasonable demand for gold, Robin sent the courier away and frowned. He would have to accompany the gold caravan himself or risk it being taken by actual bandits in search of a payday or more Ylissean marauders. Perhaps a guard of a hundred or so men, plus Robin's own elite unit.
He was sitting in a conference room now, a smaller one meant for the royalty and a few advisors. His three guards and the two Ylisseans were present, and pondering over the plan he had just presented and the risks involved.
"What I'm trying to get across is this," Robin finished. "Marth will probably try some underhanded tactic to get the gold without releasing my father. An ambush on the way or during the exchange is almost certain. I need some people I can rely on, and you five seem like my best bet. Will you come?"
He needn't have asked. Aversa gave Robin a simple look and Tharja's grip on his shoulder told him all he needed to know. Lissa's vigorous nod threatened to shake her head off, and Henry laughed at the sight before following suit, eliciting a grumbly reaction from Lissa at his mimicry. Chryme didn't even bother reacting to the question and instead voiced her own thoughts.
"The six of us, huh? I wouldn't mind getting the chance to strike down that wolf, Marth."
Robin noted the sudden change in Lissa's demeanor at those words as he quipped back, "We'll be delivering sheep of gold then. Shepherds, aren't we?"
Chryme stared at Robin as though he had sprouted a second head, but he continued. "We're a group now. We need to be able to trust one another, for better or worse, and I trust all of you. But I can't exactly call you my guard now, because this isn't about the Prince of Plegia. This is about protecting the people of both Plegia and Ylisse." The sheep, as it were.
Chryme grinned at that. She got the message. "We're Shepherds then. I like it."
The naming having been accomplished, Robin sighed. Herding those sheep to greener pastures meant getting rid of the biggest wolf. And ridding themselves of the Exalt could easily bring about events that none of them were prepared for. Robin hoped that wouldn't be the case.
"Chryme, please! Don't argue with me for once in your life! I love you and Lissa with all my heart, so take her and go! I'll be fine! Just go!" - 'Emm', to a young Chryme.
AN: Hello and welcome to my first fic! I hope this chapter doesn't seem too short, but this is where I wanted to cut it off, just before they begin their journey. Being that this is my first fic, excuse me for still learning the ropes of pacing and writing as it is
This idea is several months old now, born of a conversation between my friend and beta DuckTator. Creds for the photo also to her. This was meant to be Chrobin at the start, but genderbent. Course, genderbending Robin doesn't have much impact, in all honesty. Everyone else will probably stay the same gender. Also, the pairings are actually still up in the air. Feel free to make suggestions!