A/N: This story contains SPOILERS, specifically for chapters one to eleven.

Cleanse

Robin's blade gleamed dully in the dusky morning light as she ran through her sword forms. Cool air chilled the sweat that prickled her neck and her footfalls clattered on the cobblestones of the training yard. Her breath grew ragged as she lunged and parried, slicing and dodging imaginary foes. The finest swordsmen she knew all repeated such drills on a daily basis until their movements were fluid and easy, until their thoughts were clear, their minds empty of all distraction, of every worry.

But she was not one of the finest swordsmen; even as she moved, her thoughts churned.

It was a relief when someone hailed her from the far side of the practice yard. Sheathing her sword, Robin turned to find Vaike bounding towards her like an exuberant hound. He flashed a grin. "You're off to an early start."

She shrugged. "No sense letting myself go when I went to so much trouble to get in shape in the first place." She hoped he wouldn't notice the dark circles beneath her eyes from her all but sleepless night. It was easy to get an early start when the day before never really ended.

"Ain't that the truth. Sent Plegia packing, but we're still Shepherds, right? Gotta stay in peak condition."

Robin gritted her teeth and waited for the invitation to spar. She was ready to fall over but she couldn't think of a good way to decline–strategies of retreat had never been her forté.

She waited a beat and then another, but the request never came. Instead, Vaike simply stood there, tossing his axe from one hand to the other as if it were no more than a practice blade rather than a finely honed and very heavy weapon of mass decapitation.

"Is there something troubling you?" Robin ventured, holding in a sigh. She had an idea of where this was headed. Not another one...

"Well sorta." He hefted the axe over his shoulder, shifting from foot to foot. "It's about the cleansing ceremony."

Yup. Another one.

"Oh is that today?" Robin said, feigning nonchalance.

Vaike rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah I know it's last minute and all, but this whole thing about havin' to tell someone a secret..." He shrugged. "Damn rituals. The Vaike doesn't keep a lot secrets–what ya see is what ya get."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "But you... thought of one?"

"Guess I did. And I figured I'd go ahead and tell you an' maybe you could... offer some... uh... strategic tips?"

"Happy to oblige," Robin said, smiling, though her stomach was tied into knots. Damn rituals indeed. The cleansing ceremony was a yearly spring ritual in Ylisse, but if she'd ever participated in one, she had no recollection of it. She'd had it explained to her of course. The main event was a gathering that would be held in the castle courtyard this evening but before that you were meant to tell someone of your choosing a secret.

"So there's this person–girl–woman. Look, I really like her, all right?"

"And that's your secret?"

The toe of his boot scuffed the stones. He glanced up, checking their environs, but aside from a pair of grooms cutting across the yard on their way to the stables, they were alone. "Well not just that. Problem is she's a noble and the Vaike is just yer run of the mill guy."

Robin had to stifle the urge to laugh. Vaike could probably juggle a plough horse along with the plough and farmer without breaking a sweat, but just now he looked like as nervous as a squire on his first day in service. "You know her. Is she the sort who cares about rank?" And then, brow furrowed. "Gods, it's not Maribelle, is it?"

Vaike laughed. "Ogre's teeth, no. Ol' teach may not be a genius tactician but even I gotta know a losin' battle when I see one." He titled his head to one side for a moment. "Guess you're right, though. She doesn't care about all that rank and title stuff so I've got as good a shot as the next guy." His face split into a toothy grin, giving him the look of a happy hunting hound. "Hey thanks. Maybe this whole secret-spewing stuff isn't so bad after all."

"Happy I could help," Robin said with a laugh. Well at least it had been an easy case. "I'm heading off though. Busy day ahead."

"Right. 'Course. See you at the ceremony tonight."

Robin only nodded. She didn't actually say she was going to attend, so it wasn't actually a lie.

ooo

From her lookout on one of the castle turrets, Robin could gaze down into the bustling city of Ylisstol and beyond it to the surrounding countryside. The afternoon sunlight warmed her skin even as the breeze cooled it and carried away the bustle and clatter from the castle courtyard.

After her encounter with Vaike, she'd done her best to avoid busy areas. At least up here she had a better chance of being left alone and she could make solid observations of the city's layout. The war with Plegia might be at an end, but peace was still not guaranteed. Plegia was in turmoil now, but in a few years who was to say what their new ruler would decide? And there were other countries besides Plegia. No, peace was never guaranteed and as tactician it was her job to be prepared for whatever lay ahead of them.

Perched on a rocky slope high above the city, Ylisstol's castle itself was easy to defend, but the city was another matter. Even if the population could be housed within the castle walls, a siege would be disastrous for they could never store enough provisions to last long enough.

So intent was she on the strategic scenarios playing out in her mind, that she didn't hear the approaching footfalls until it was too late.

"Robin, here you are."

She started and had to clutch the castle wall for fear she'd tumble right over it. "Chrom. My apologies. I was... lost in thought."

He smiled and she sensed a hint of laughter behind those blue eyes. "I thought maybe you were lost for good. You've no idea how long I've been looking for you. I had six runners out on the hunt. One of them finally spotted you up here."

"I've been taking stealth lessons from Kellam. I guess they've finally paid off."

"So it would seem." He paused to lean against the stone defences and gaze onto the heart of his halidom. In spite of the sunshine and the breeze that ruffled his hair, his smile faded away and a gloom seemed to settle over his features.

"Chrom, is there something wrong?"

He drew in a deep breath and then turned to face her. "Someone explained the cleansing ceremony to you, didn't they?"

Oh no.

"Oh yes. I know all about it now." As she spoke, she turned to face the castle courtyard. Even from this height she could see that the central area where the ceremony would be held had been decorated with garlands of ivy and wildflowers. Sumia's work no doubt.

Chrom gave a curt nod. "No sense in putting it off then. I know it's bad form to leave the secret sharing until just hours before the ceremony but..." He turned again to look out on Ylisstol. "The truth is, that even now I worry that Emmeryn would be disappointed. I cut down Plegia's king, but it was her sacrifice that put an end to the war more than anything we did. But sometimes I wonder... if that's really the way she would have wanted it to end or if she'd have found..." He sighed and gave a shrug. "A better way."

Robin's breath caught. She could remember it all too clearly, could hear Emmeryn's voice, see her leaping into the chasm. Robin knew that she, too, was at fault, that as tactician, her lack of foresight was as much to blame for the loss of Emmeryn as anything else. But that Emmeryn would ever blame Chrom was unthinkable. "Chrom–"

"Peace, Robin," he said with a faint smile. "I know what you would say. I've told myself often enough. But... it was good to speak my fears aloud."

A gust whipped her cloak around her like a wyvern's wings and she snatched the edges of the fabric to draw it closer around her. "Your halidom has strange traditions."

A bark of laughter followed her comment. "That may be so, but they do have their uses. I suppose I should be getting back, though. I've a lot to do before the ceremony and I'm sure you do as well."

"Right. Lots to do." Lots to avoid.

ooo

After being tracked down not only by Vaike but by Chrom himself, Robin felt that hiding in her room was, tactically speaking, the most appropriate course of action. If that didn't work she was seriously considering hiding under the bed.

Even though Robin intended to keep up her patrols with the Shepherds, Chrom had granted her a fine room in the castle near the royal quarters–an honour befitting the royal tactician, he'd said. It lay in the inner wards of the castle, built for comfort rather than defence, so she had the luxury of a window overlooking a small inner courtyard. In the afternoon, light poured through it onto a huge oak desk where she could study the tactical manuals she pored over even at the war's end. At present, the tome she was bowed over gave her little satisfaction. She sighed and leaned her head on her hand. The cleansing ceremony would take place at dusk. Only a few hours to go and she would be free of the whole damned mess.

As if one cue, a knock sounded at her door. She cast a furtive glance towards the bed, but no, if she were ever caught cowering under there she'd never live it down. Maybe she could just pretend she wasn't in.

Another knock, and then, "Robin, I know you're in there."

With a sigh, Robin rose and answered the door. "Hello, Frederick," she greeted the knight who waited patiently in her doorway, hands clasped behind his back. He stood so still and so straight that, even in doublet and trousers rather than his breastplate and epaulettes, there was a certain rigidity to his stance.

He bowed. "Good evening, Robin."

She stepped back and motioned for him to come in. "So, what can I do for you?" Please let it be a question about tactics, or venison or–

"I've come about the cleansing ceremony."

Robin winced. "The ceremony. What about it?"

She was almost certain that she saw Frederick's lips twitch, but he managed to keep a straight face. "As you know, the ceremony will take place shortly, and Lord Chrom sensed that you were hesitant."

A rueful chuckle escaped her. "So he sent you?"

"Indeed."

Robin turned towards the window, crossing her arms over her chest, lips thinned to a line. The afternoon light was turning golden as the sun began to dip into the western horizon.

Frederick cleared his throat. "It is my Lord's particular wish that you should attend the ceremony."

She didn't turn. "Is that so?"

"The ceremony is meant to help us shed the past, to move forward unburdened. Such a process is especially critical after events like those we've experienced. Ylisse must move forward. As the tactician for our forces, your played a key role in defeating Plegia. Your presence at the ceremony would be a powerful symbol."

Robin huffed. Shed the past–easy to say when you had a past.

His voice softened as he added, "I also believe Chrom felt it would be beneficial to you personally."

"Oh did he now?"

"Robin–"

"No," she cut in, turning to face him, "it's fine. If it's my duty as tactician to attend, then I will. But how can I share a secret when I don't recall a thing before the Shepherds found me? The whole thing just seems... pointless."

She braced herself for the reprobation, the speech about duty and obligation, but it never came. Instead, Frederick only nodded. "I understand your reluctance and if you do not wish to participate in spirit then that is your right. You needn't share anything you do not wish to share."

"I–thank you, Frederick. I'm glad you understand." For a few moments they remained in silence. She supposed they ought to get going soon, but although she didn't have to participate in the secret sharing, the thought of attending still unsettled her and she found herself wanting to put it off for as long as humanly possible. "Did anyone come to you–to share a secret I mean?"

He straightened, clasping his hands behind his back once again. "Yes, a few did come to me trusting in my discretion."

"I had a few myself." More than a few. With all manner of confessions. Gaius had admitted to her that he had, in fact, stolen sweets from an infant; Stahl, with much embarrassment, had recounted a childhood incident when he'd broken one of his father's apothecary bottles; Miriel, stony-faced, had announced that she'd once mis-shelved a book.

A smile lightened Frederick's features and his posture relaxed ever so slightly. "That does not surprise me. You were trusted with everyone's lives during the war and you are held in high regard even now. What are a few secrets compared to that?"

"I suppose so," she said, sighing and taking a pace towards the window. The mellow evening light gave the castle's stones a grainy, golden hue, like a giant's sand castle. Frederick approached, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. She turned to glance at him when he cleared his throat, her spine stiffening with sudden foreboding

"I myself do wish to fully participate in the ceremony so I'm afraid there's ought I must confess."

She quirked an eyebrow. "A bit last-minute, wouldn't you say?"

He winced and shifted, looking, for a moment, like a squire with his breastplate on backwards. "Yes. You're right of course. I realize I should have done this sooner, only..." He heaved a sigh. "Robin, do you recall when I first agreed to train with you, shortly after you joined the Shepherds?"

"Of course."

He bowed his head. "I must admit that I agreed to do so not for your benefit, but in order to gauge your abilities should you turn out to be an enemy."

And at this Robin could only laugh. "Oh, Frederick, I knew. Of course I knew," she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm; he looked so repentant it was downright comical– and over this? "What sort of tactician would I be if I didn't realize you wanted to keep an eye on me?" She shrugged. "But since I didn't have anything to hide it didn't seem to matter."

"I–" His jaw moved but nothing came out. He shook himself and tried again. "I must admit this... comes as a relief. I was concerned that you would be upset."

"Upset?" she said, eyebrows raised. "It's like I told you when we met, I'd have been just as wary in your place. Now, while we still have a few minutes, would you mind telling me what actually happens during this ceremony? I've been too busy trying to avoid it to actually ask anyone what I'm supposed to do."

Appearing relieved at the change of topic, Frederick gave a curt nod. "It's quite simple. Libra will be officiating, which will, I hope, ease your mind. He will perform a ritual benediction over a vat of water. Each in turn, we will proceed up to him. He will give us each his blessing, like so," Frederick said, placing his hands on her shoulders; her breath caught. They remained there, the warmth of his palms seeping into her skin. As he looked into her face, there was a new lightness to his expression, as if in speaking his piece he'd shed a layer of armour. "Libra will trickle the water over your head and speak a few words of blessing. That is all there is to the matter."

Robin smiled, feeling slightly flushed as she realized his hands still rested on her shoulders. "Is he going to stare deep into my eyes when he does it too?"

Frederick started and withdrew his hands to cover his mouth as he coughed. "No. I–excuse me–" He cleared his throat. "No, I expect not." Glancing out the window, Frederick nodded, his expression serious once more. "We should go. It would not do to arrive late." He gestured toward the door, inviting her to proceed ahead of him.

She spun away towards the window, hugging herself. "Frederick, wait. There's something..." She bit her lip, hesitated.

"Robin?"

"What I said before, it wasn't quite true. About the ceremony seeming pointless. That's not why I've been reluctant." Shadows had settled into the room as the sun snuck away. No lamps were lit, but even in the dusky shreds of light, she could see the concern on his face as she glanced at him. "It's because I can't remember. You said the ceremony is supposed to help us shed the past, but how can I do that when I don't know my past?" She took a deep breath. "Here's my secret: I have strange dreams sometimes, and I... worry about who I was–am–whatever." She shook her head. "What if I was someone terrible before I lost my memory?" She hoped the dimness hid her features, hoped it cloaked the dread and uncertainty that haunted her thoughts after one of those peculiar dreams.

She heard the crinkle of fabric and then felt the weight of his hand once more on her shoulder. "Robin." He said her name a second time and only then did she look up at him. "I wish I could give you peace of mind regarding your past, but even if we entertain your doubts for a moment, it changes nothing. You would not be the first person recruited to the Shepherds who has a sordid past. We all make mistakes. What matters are the choices we make now." She opened her mouth to object but he squeezed her shoulder and went on. "If, indeed, you were another sort of person before, then the loss of your memory has cleansed your heart."

"I–"A smile broke out onto her face. "I don't know what to say, Frederick. Thank you."

He nodded solemnly. "Shall we go then, milady?" He offered his arm. Still smiling, she took it and went with him to the courtyard where people were already gathering for the cleansing ceremony.

And though Libra did look into her eyes when he performed the blessing, Frederick's brown eyes were all she could see.

The End