Notes: Yay! Schedule slip! Real life always has a way of getting in our way, eh?
Stats: 500 words for EmmerynRobin. And using my favorite timeline.
They had been walking through the gardens together, talking in peace under the cover of the night, when they heard a suspicious rustle of leaves near them. Chrom looked at Robin, his mysterious and reserved tactician, who he nonetheless trusted with his life. Silently they agreed to prepare to fight, both unsheathing their blades in unison.
...but they were too slow, an assassin leaping out from the shadows among the bushes, and they barely managed to dodge his first attack, the second being blocked by Robin's sword as he stepped between the man and his lord. Chrom moved to strike while his defender stood his ground.
He didn't manage to do so, though, and he roared in pain and anger as his right shoulder was slashed, the Falchion not managing to cut deep enough to free up his tactician. Another assassin had come out from the shadows, having waited in order to have them distracted, so he could land his hit.
"Damn..." he hissed as he fell to one knee, leaning his weight on his sword as his other hand tentatively reached out for his wound.
"Chrom! Get up!" Robin yelled at him, as he stabbed the first man with equal intent to kill, the second already upon the prince beside them...
A well-aimed javelin pierced the assassin's body, Frederick coming towards them running. Two corpses fell to the ground, the tactician letting his sword remain where it was, too shaken to pull it out. That had been too close!
"Milord! What...?" The knight paled as he saw Chrom's shoulder, momentarily forgetting what he was saying. "The castle is under attack, milord. We must get you to safety while the gathered Shepherds fight those dastards off."
Robin took out a tome from a hidden pocket. "Frederick, take care of him. I'll go help the others," he said firmly, and didn't hesitate to turn his back on them before they protested, entering the main building with only one thing in mind, "Emmeryn, where is she?"
The tactician had been thinking of her since he heard of her commitment to peace between Ylisse and his native Plegia, and meeting her in person had just made it worse for him; he had fallen for the Exalt, against his better judgment. If anything happened to her, he...
He found her lying on a pool of her own blood, in her bedroom. She was barely alive, with her attacker standing over her, holding on to the Fire Emblem. Those red eyes met Robin's for a moment, a cruel smirk on the taller man's lips. "We shall meet again," he whispered before he disappeared, the tactician's lightning striking a wall instead. The Grimleal had...
Robin ran to Emmeryn's side, feeling a strange darkness grow within his heart as he held her. "Your Grace?"
"You had... to be the... one to... find me..."
"I couldn't save you... I was too late!"
Her smile was sad, her hand reaching for him, "I..." and dropping to her side, lifeless.