Somewhere off to the right, an unfortunate soul was knocked off of their horse, skull promptly caved in with the steel head of a wicked battle-axe. Robin failed to determine who had been felled and who was left standing through the dust that permeated the air above the battlefield, stinging her eyes and bringing droplets of water to her eyes. Her heartbeat drowned out the cries of pain and adrenaline-fueled screaming. An arrow screamed death as it narrowly narrowly missed her forehead, disappearing as she sprinted across the dirt.
This was not the plan. War often didn't go according to plan, of course, but this was different. They had been taken by surprise by a simple ambush, the kind she could have seen coming a mile away - that she should have seen coming a mile away. A blade swung at her from the left: She redirected with her own, and the flash of lightning followed. It was almost reflexive, but almost concerned her. She usually saw everything at once, reading the tides of battle like one might read a scholar's textbook. Now it was like she was blind, seeing only what was right in front of her eyes. She could feel her heart picking up speed, and knew panic was beginning to set in. The same was probably the case for the soldiers - no, not soldiers, her friends, who had put their faith and their lives in her hands, and who were here dying in some Gods-forsaken-
Footsteps. Fast, heavy, coming from behind. She spun, gripping her sword, but her eyes went wide as the breath was knocked out of her lungs and she toppled to the ground. Her eyes drifted downwards and saw a silver pole sticking out of her torso somewhere around the stomach, but it was difficult to tell as the sight sent her vision into a blur.
"Whuh-" Robin stammered. There was a momentary sharpness and the sickening sound of meat as a Plegian soldier pulled their spear out of her body. Her unfocused eyes stared at strips of her own dripping flesh hanging off of the barbed tip, which was probably a bad sign. Incomprehensible shouting followed, the Plegian fighting in vain against a far more skilled opponent, his weapon knocked to the side and crimson exploding from a fresh cut in his throat as he went limp and collapsed besides the tactician he had so recently impaled, clutching at his gaping neck.
Someone had crouched low to the ground beside her, trying to put pressure on the wound. No familiar warmth of healing magic pushing out the coldness that was threatening to envelop Robin's thoughts - thoughts that were insisting with steadily increasing intensity that she was going to go into shock if the bleeding continued.
"Healer! I need a healer!"
Whoever it was, they leaned into her quickly tunneling line of sight.
"Hey, come on, Robin. Just hold on, Lissa's gonna be here, you're gonna be fine."
The words swam in her head, barely understood. She saw blue hair. Chrom? Chrom wasn't a healer. She'd be dead before one got to her. Still, part of her was happy that she would at least have a friend by her side. The rest was panicking, or wishing that she had planned better, somehow.
"Chrom… I'm… S-sorry…"
Her eyes closed, the image of the Ylissean Prince's face the last thing she registered before losing herself in the blackness.
...
"Chrom… I'm… S-sorry…"
"No! Robin, open your eyes! OPEN YOUR EYES!"
The Prince was on the verge of tears, but it was only a matter of moments after his friend's eyes closed that they truly began to flow, splashing the backs of his hands that remained pressed against Robin's stomach, sticky with blood.
Lissa appeared out of the dust, eyes darting to-and fro, half expecting to see her brother incapacitated by an arrow lodged in his chest, or a dagger protruding from his back.
"I'm here, what's-oh, Gods…" Her hand went to her mouth. She wasn't expecting this.
"You can fix this, right?" Chrom wasn't asking - he was begging, desperate for confirmation that everything was going to be fine. Confirmation that Lissa wished she could give.
"I can… I can try," she replied, voice shaky. Chrom moved to the side as his sister began to focus, magical energies flowing from her staff towards the white-haired woman lying motionless on the ground.
"I don't… It's not working, Chrom."
"It has to!"
"Maybe if we were at camp…"
"Then, bless it, we'll get her to camp!"
"How? You're going to carry her all the way?"
As if sent by some divine force, the beating of wings came from on high. Lissa might have found the timing funny, if it weren't for the situation.
"Is something wrong? I saw you crowded over here and shouting, and I didn't see any immediate danger," Sumia gasped as her pegasus floated lower to the ground.
Chrom lifted Robin up and on to the pegasus.
"Sumia, thank the gods you're here. I need you to take us back to camp, and fast."
"Yes, I can do that. There, uh, might not be that much space, though."
Lissa put a hand on her brother's shoulder.
"Chrom, you need to stay here. You can't help her any more than you already have, and the guys here need you."
"...Okay. You're right. Gods… Just promise me you'll save her."
"Yeah, I promise.'
With a nod, Chrom charged back into the fray, as Sumia took her passengers away from it as fast as she could, only avoiding a blast of wind from a hostile mage by a narrow margin.
As Robin's eyes fluttered open, the first thing she thought about was how hungry she was. The second was that she was not, in fact, dead, contrary to her own expectations.
"About time you woke up."
Robin rose halfway and rubbed her eyes. Chrom was sitting by the side of her bed (cot was more apt), head resting on folded hands.
"What-Were you watching me sleep?"
Chrom grinned sheepishly.
"I was worried about you. That was a bad hit you took in the last battle."
Robin looked down, recalling the sight of something sticking out of her shirt, of red mixing into the ground. There was a hole in her shirt, and the grey fabric had been darkened around it, but the skin underneath seemed to be intact.
"What about the others? Did we lose anyone?"
Chrom's expression was replaced by a sideways glance, one Robin understood too well.
"It was my fault," he grimaced. "Everyone followed me into that trap, but they pay the price for it? I'm not fit to lead."
Robin took his hand in hers, though the Prince did not notice, and was silent for a moment as she contemplated her words.
"We're following you because we believe in you, and because we believe in your ideals, Chrom. Not because we think you're some infallible deity. I know that whatever happened out there, no one is going to think less of you for it, because any one of them would gladly march alongside you to certain death," Robin paused. "And even still, you can hardly blame yourself. I should have recognized the signs, or planned for an attack…"
"Maybe the both of us are just a couple of screw-ups then, huh?"
They shared an awkward laugh, one that ever-so-slightly brightened the mood.
"Do you mean that? About them not… hating me?"
"Of course I do. There's no way I could, at least, I think I'm i-"
She stopped herself, struck by realization.
"Are you okay? You're turning red. Did you get a fever?"
A hand cupped her cheek. She felt the calloused tissue grazing her relatively delicate skin.
"Just wait here, I can find-"
Chrom was silenced by the gentle force of Robin's lips against his. It carried the feeling of inexperience, as though it was the tactician's first, yet he found himself missing it after it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"O-Oh, gods, Chrom, I'm sorry, I think-I don't know what happened… what?"
Her flustered attempts at explanation were cut short as her sudden advance was returned in full, Chrom beginning to lean in further. Their bodies pressed together, and she could feel his heat mixing with her own, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. A soft moan rose-
Lissa screamed, accompanied by the clattering of metal. Chrom looked up in surprise, seeing his sister's shocked expression, and a tray of food that had been dropped at her feet. Lissa stared wide-eyed at the cot where her brother was on top of their mutual friend. Robin glanced nervously from brother to sister.
Lissa's shock gave way to laughter - light at first, but soon as uproarious as could be, coming from such a small frame.
"I knew it!" she turned, leaning out of the tent flaps. "Frederick! Get over here! Yeah, you gotta see this!"
Robin smiled at Chrom, who had gone over to his sister in an attempt to convince her that there was not, in fact, anything that Frederick or anyone else needed to see.