Noise was all around her.
Fighting wave after wave of Nohrian soldiers with her bloodthirsty dragon form was draining. She felt as if her soul being ripped from her body with every swing of her tail and slash of her claws. Corrin struggled to keep her head straight, to stay above the flood of desire to kill and maim. She had to keep her mind clean of all influence, lest she fall victim to her own strength and hurt those that she loved. She had chosen her birthright; she had to steel her blood and keep her claws from slicing through her own ranks of white armor.
The narrow port streets were not made to house her lumbering dragon form. Her mighty grey scales were tainted with crimson stains as she reared her head at the sound of hooves. Her eyes, clouded with the thrill of battle, caught the sight of a black mare with a familiar rider. Silas, her mind struggled. She halted her rage and unfurled her wings. She had to force her head down to keep herself from feeling the urge to slash and attack even more. Her childhood friend and knight rode up to her, his eyes showing the flicker of fear he forced down.
"Corrin, we need to fall back and keep the road secure," he warned. "The next wave is sure to arrive soon."
Corrin forced herself to nod. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own and all it wanted to do was destroy. Silas quickly rode back into the fray, leaving Corrin behind. The Hoshido royal lumbered back, feeling like every step was like trudging through mud that was up to her waist. She loved the thrill of her dragon form, despite it feeling like she was at the mercy of instinct. She felt...
"Halt, foul beast!"
Corrin's head whipped around to find a young man standing in the road, his words half drowned by the roar of battle. His sword was high as a smirk took control of his face. Her red eyes narrowed as she turned to face him, her blood pounding. He was a member of the Nohrian forces. He was someone she could attack, something to destroy. Her claws dug into the cobbles with anticipation. His brunette hair rustled in the wind before he spoke again.
"You shall pay for leaving Nohr! Traitors shall not be permitted to breathe another breath," he yelled. His voice clear and charming. Frankly he seemed out of place in such a place of violence and aggression. Corrin readied herself for an attack, feeling a thrill rush down her spine. Just as he charged, she did the same, roaring like a feral beast that craved the blood of man.
"Are you ever serious?"
There was a smile. It was almost immediate, though there was enough paused to make her wonder. His deep brown eyes gleamed as he lifted his chin and laughed.
"I am serious when it comes to matters of love," he offered. "No maiden shall ever say that I had not tried!"
"And you say that like it's a good thing."
Corrin felt something in her chest falter and squeeze. She swerved out of the way of a slash from his sword just as her mind tried to recover from the sudden loss of control. It had been almost as if she had been remembering something, a fragment of life she had long abandoned. The young man stumbled to regain his footing as she confusedly dodged another swing.
"Come on," he complained. "I have witnessed you tearing a man apart with a single swipe of your claw! I demand that you fight me with everything you have. A win means nothing if gained by an enemy's folly." The rage pooled in her vision again and she raised a claw and forced it down, aiming straight for his feeble chest, just as she had with many a man before him.
"Somehow, I doubt that putting you in a secondary assault with Lucina and Morgan is a good idea."
The young man looked up from the map she had sprawled out on the table. He had been staring at a few pawns she had placed down to mark a few key units in their attack against another stronghold of the conqueror. His hand sheathed itself in his brunette hair, a trait she had come to recognize as his anxious tell. Beside him stood the three other members of said attack, all of which her family by both blood and battle.
"You wound me," he teased. "I am a very capable individual, you yourself have admitted it to be so. With my Luna Skill, matched with Lucina's Sol Skill, we shall tear apart any who dare to approach us!" Her eyes drifted to her daughter, taking a closer look at her stubborn glare in his direction. She could see genuine affection in those blue abysses. With a start, she realized that it was a very real possibility that her own daughter could fall in love here too, just as she had before her. She wasn't ready for that yet. She was selfish. She wanted her daughter longer than a few mere months.
"Absolutely not," she retorted. "You partnering with Lucina is a terrible idea for an assault."
He looked genuinely hurt. Lucina looked a bit shocked, but she ignored it. She needed to think things through beyond her own selfish desire. Her eyes turned to her son Morgan, so blissfully ignorant to the conditions beside him. He instead was engrossed in her map, his eyes pouring over every inch of her strategy. The brunette looked to the boy and smiled, hatching another idea.
"Then I will accompany Morgan," he proudly announced. "With my swordplay and his magic, we will be unstoppable!"
"No," she panicked. All eyes were on her again, this time confused and concerned. She found her composure and stood tall. "You two have never fought together before. That could end in disaster."
"I can keep him safe," he promised. "I can..."
"No," she repeated, more stern and controlled. "Lucina and Morgan have the best connection, and therefore they work better together on the field. I insist that you pair with Owain. Despite you two both using a blade, you will be sure to make short work of this fortress's guards."
"If you insist," he sighed, looking disappointed.
Despite his dodge, it was her own will that made her claws rip into the street rather than the body in front of her. He looked stricken with fear, his brown eyes locked on her claws. He gave no words of ferocity. Instead he stumbled back and glared up at her fearsome head, filled with fear but hiding behind a mask of bravado. Corrin felt that same feeling from earlier return with more urgency, as if something was begging with herself within her own subconscious. The images were searing into her skull, pounding and suffocating. She was unable to raise her fangs or claws against him. Those memories were too potent, laced with pain and affection. Those memories...
He was in them.
Without thinking, she snatched the man by the vest on his back and held him in her jaws. He instinctively cried out with fear, drawing attention in the midst of battle. "Corrin," Silas screamed, as if he was trying to pull her back from the brink of a mistake. She ignored him. She had to act before something irreversible happened. Unfurling her wings again, she raced headlong down the street and leaped to the sky, leaving the field of battle behind. The brunette in her jaws struggled and tried to escape, but his efforts proved fruitless. Corrin tried frantically to find a place to hide, a place where she could make sense of such images that were bleeding into her mind.
"Inigo!"
It was just a voice, but it was enough to send her crashing down within a small cluster of trees outside of the port's reach. Her blood pounded in her ears as her body went stiff, overwhelmed by the swarm of emotions that had crashed within her skull. Inigo screamed as they broke through the trees and landed on the grass with most of the injuries being given to Corrin. Her grip loosened and Inigo pulled himself away with a terrified shudder. It took a moment for Corrin to escape the daze but when she did she pounced on him, gingerly holding him down with one great palm.
Inigo glared up at her, struggling with his hands digging into her, trying to free himself. "If you want to kill me than do it!"
Hot tears started to pool in her eyes, brought forth by a pain she hardly understood. The young Hoshido royal had no idea why such memory flashes plagued her, but now they were suffocating her and make her throat burn. His eyes slammed shut as she forced herself to release herself from her dragon form. She shrunk down to a woman with short brown hair, her eyes spilling over with tears as she pressed a single hand against his chest and shivered.
"Inigo," she sobbed, feeling as if she was being stabbed through the chest. The young man opened his eyes and looked at her in shock, unable to speak for a few moments. He shifted but did not run. At first, he searched for some lighthearted remark to hide his fear, but his words were lost. Corrin's hand gripped his vest, the cloth bunching between her fingers. "Inigo," she repeated, quiet as a whimper.
"...You must have me confused with some other handsome young man," he replied, his voice cold and defensive. "My name is Laslow and I'd prefer to be called as such before you kill me-"
"Your name is Inigo," she snapped. "Son of Olivia the dancer and Stahl the knight! You were a mercenary, a young man from a doomed future!" Her hands shook, one still clutching her burning dragonstone to her chest as she cried. "I know exactly who you are!"
His forced smile faltered. Inigo stared up at her, confused, ashamed and scared all at once. He tried to find a way to deny it but instead he gained a serious, cold expression. "How do you know?" His words were not a question but a demand. A cold, bleak demand.
"I..." Her eyes fell before they stared at his face once again. "I don't know. Gods know I'd rather not than feel this...this ache in my chest. All I know is that I knew or know you...somehow."
"I don't believe in fate-"
"Well, I believe it," she snapped. His grew silent once again, watching her with a mask of indifference. "I believe it! And I know you don't belong here! You belong back home, w-with Lucina a-and Morgan and Owain! How dare you leave your parents like this!" Anger and hurt bubbled up though it felt separate of herself. It was as if something was foreign was inside her, kicking and screaming and broken all at once. "How dare you abandon them! How dare you leave after you promised!"
Inigo did not even dare to look at her. Instead he turned his head aside and refused to speak. Disgust pushed through Corrin's emotions and she threw him down, her hands still shaking as she stepped back and scowled at him. "Even if you broke your promise, I will not. I...I promised to always find you and bring you back home. Now, I refuse to kill you," she spat. "I will spare you and make sure my men do the same. You...You go home now. Return to the land you come from. This war is not yours to fight." The brunette woman forced herself to step away and leave, her chest still in a state of burning in agony.
The young man stood alone, staring blankly after her.
"...I cannot go home," he breathed with pain. "This war is mine now."
Author's Note: Ever since before Fates had an North American release date, I've been hooked on the Corrin is Robin reincarnated theory. I hadn't played Fates yet but I couldn't wait any longer to write this idea. This is mostly headcanons mixed with speculation, but that's not stopping me from getting a head start on some Fire Emblem Fates angst!
