Some small AU stuff going on. I think explaining the AU stuff makes it kind of boring, so I won't come out and say it. Even then, not like it's super hidden or anything; I'm just not listing it out.
As an aside, this is straight-up a brain to doc single-go-around, one-shot of an idea that popped up and refused to be ignored, forcing me to just get to work. This is the child of several half-baked, separate plot ideas that fused together. I tried to keep the focus on "Cherche's perspective," as opposed to giving a window into both characters' thoughts.
XXXXX
Cherche knew that it was no secret that she had married a great man – certainly the greatest that she had ever known. He was a valiant hero, a stalwart comrade, and a loving husband and father to their children.
A gentle growl brought her attention to the majestic wyvern next to her, attempting to bring her focus back to grooming.
She was thankful for Minerva as well, of course, who had been by her side through all of the turmoil and strife: a hopeless war against an unstoppable conqueror, the fall of her country, watching her liege be forced to appeal to a foreign power to save their precious Roseanne...
Minerva, who had remained by her side after her husband's sacrifice, and what she thought was the last time that she would ever see him again. She didn't think that she could put into words the heartbreak she had felt watching him fade away, the pain that she had felt, not only for her children, but for herself.
As if she had lost the most precious thing in the world.
Her grooming of Minerva slowed again, as her thoughts drifted once more towards her husband.
There was a time where the love of her life was deeply interested in what Naga dubbed outrealms – alternate realities running parallel to theirs – because of his hope that in such an outrealm might lie some new way of thinking that would help him keep all of their friends safe.
Unfortunately, time was not on his side, and so he stopped his research short in favor of looking towards what resources he had at hand.
Once, in a fit of something that she couldn't quite name, she laid herself down next to him, rested her head on his shoulder, and spoke to him about what the outrealms meant for them.
"Hm… love," she hummed, contenting herself with holding the white haired tactician.
"Yes, Cherche?" Robin responded, a lazy smile on his face as he idly twirled her hair in the hand that wasn't holding her.
"Although I said that we were always meant to be, I wasn't aware that you would find me so irresistible as to love me in other worlds as well," she teased, her gentle, lilting laugh breaking the tactician out of his reverie, even as she closed her eyes and relaxed in his hold.
Cherche felt him abruptly release her hair and use that same hand to gently hold hers, the warmth from his grip carrying its way through her body.
"Cherche," he said, his gentle but serious whisper surprising her.
"Hm?" she hummed again, this time in askance, her eyes opening slowly.
"The idea that I could not love you doesn't make any sense to me. Cherche… I love you. It's a fact of my existence. Even after everything else has crumbled away, the universal truth will remain that I love you, Cherche, in this life, the next, and every other… A world where I don't love you is one where I don't exist," Robin breathed out, his voice trembling with emotion.
Cherche looked at him with wide, shimmering eyes. He always chose the most surprising times to be earnest with his emotions; she certainly hadn't been expecting this.
"When the time comes, and all of the stars fade and the sun sets for the last time, I will still love you, and no other," the white haired tactician whispered, before Cherche took her hand from his grip and rested it on his face, moving to give him a tender kiss.
A nudge from Minerva's snout shook her out of fond memories, even as her dear wyvern nudged her again, curious about her wistful smile.
Perhaps she did know how to describe how she had felt before Robin's miraculous return.
That this world's Cherche ceased to exist, even as something broken took her place.
Minerva whined, but this time was unable to stop her companion from falling into memories.
XXXXX
Before they had been married, or even been really courting, Cherche still found herself in her tent with Robin, discussing romance.
Romance for Minerva.
They had spent many free evenings together trying to find the perfect companion for Minerva, becoming fast friends in the process. And truly, it was difficult not to quickly become comrades when they were already comrades in arms, both frequently fighting in the thickest melees.
And it certainly helped her view of the tactician when, to her delight, he became significantly more invested in the endeavor than she had hoped.
Really, at most she thought that his tactician's mind could provide her with insight that would help her expedite the process; she never thought that he would have such an eye for male wyverns, or that he would work so hard at it!
"Eh… this one seems rather handsome… but then again, Minerva never liked the ones that were too muscular, if I recall correctly," Robin pondered aloud.
"Mhm. I'm glad that you don't find Minerva's exacting standards to be a bother," the pink haired woman said with a smile. Still, the Shepherds' tactician couldn't help but feel some kind of threat behind that gentle expression.
"Of course not! Minerva has fought alongside us many times now, which makes her a Shepherd, as far as I'm concerned! How could I ever treat one of my comrade's problems as a burden? To be honest… I'm mostly bothered by how many bum male wyverns are out there. Gods, you'd think some of them would at least try," he answered, finishing with an easy laugh and smile.
"Oh my, to think that our tactician would develop such an exacting eye for handsome wyverns," Cherche said with a demure giggle, before deciding to satisfy more of her curiosity.
"While I certainly appreciate it, I must ask…why go through so much effort to help Minerva? Really, you are too kind."
"Ha ha… well, never mind the fact that I can give no less than my best when a friend has requested a favor! In all seriousness, the challenges of finding a mate for Minerva help remind me what I'm doing all of this for," he trailed off, turning to further peruse his dossier of male wyverns.
"Er… I'm sorry, Robin, but I'm afraid that I didn't quite catch your meaning," the knight from Roseanne replied honestly, her brow furrowed.
"Uh, well… It's just that," Robin stammered, his slight flush hidden. It appeared that he hadn't meant to say that so directly.
"…Yes?"
Robin turned around, the pink dusting his cheeks visible by the sunlight that made its way through the open tent flaps.
"It's just to say that helping Minerva find… er… love helps remind me that there's something after all of this violence. That even though the fighting gets fiercer and more violent, we're still fighting for peace and everything that comes with it… settling down, families," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and shifting in place on his feet.
"Yes, I suppose that you're right," Cherche agreed, unfazed as always, although her expression looked as if she was somewhere far away. The silence continued for, to Robin, an almost uncomfortable length.
"Cherche?" Suddenly the air seemed thicker than before.
"The violence does get ever worse… truly, I do detest it," she said, surprising the robed man with her admission.
"And yet, you're always in the thick of it," he pointed out.
"Hmhm, I could say the same of you, Robin," she said, smiling coyly. Robin never did tell her why he pushed her on the issue.
"Yes, but I'm not the one who just admitted to hating it. Cherche, you're my friend, and I don't want you to feel obligated to continue fighting in the most violent melees if you truly hate it so much," the tactician offered, his position allowing him to say such a thing and also be able to make it reality. She paused, knowing as well as he did that to offer such a thing as the army's tactician was irresponsible…
But also oddly… endearing. Nevertheless, she had to decline.
"This war has scattered my family and friends, and driven all of us from our homes… Unless we see this through, none of us will ever see our home again," she explained, a mournful smile as she thought of her loved ones.
"…Cherche, I-" Robin began, before he was cut off by the pink haired rider's momentum.
"If we lose, I might never see them again, and that I simply could not bear. So long as I have the strength necessary, I will bear a weapon, and stand and fight," she completed decisively, her eyes hard with determination.
A period of silence followed; she initially guessed that he was trying to come up with a way to tactfully accept her response and move on from the conversation.
When he broke the silence, the determination in her eyes was replaced by more than a little anger when she heard the man before her let out a small chuckle, but before she could show her offense, he began to speak.
"Yes, I suppose that I could understand wanting to return your family and friends to their home. To their lost country – your country."
Hearing the man speak so easily of her country's lost independence did little to lessen her annoyance.
"And, pray tell, how might someone from Ylisse know about losing their country? To fight a war and to lose one are very different things, from my experience of them."
Emmeryn died, but Ylisse lived; Virion escaped, but Roseanne suffered.
And while Emmeryn's death was tragic, could this man, who wasn't even her family, truly face her and say that he had felt her death like she had felt Roseanne's surrender?
She watched him, her eyes still sharp, as another awkwardly long silence descended upon them. But before she could again think that he had been cowed, he opened his mouth once more.
"I don't know how tightly the lid has been kept on this information, although I suppose as a Shepherd you deserve to know, if Virion hasn't told you already," he said, before taking a deep breath.
"Cherche, most of the Shepherds who were with us during the war against Gangrel – and Henry, I suppose – know this already: I'm not from Ylisse. And even though the story in the general army is that this," he gestured at his robe, embroidered from head to toe with Grimleal patterns and imagery, "is a trophy from a powerful dark mage from the first war, the truth is very different."
"As I'm sure you can guess by now, this robe… has always been mine. I'm Plegian through and through… Forgive me if I've caused offense, but although I haven't fought in a losing war, I have certainly been on the losing side before," he apologized with a bitter smile.
News of Ylisse's crusade against Plegia had reached as far as the Valmese continent, as infamously brutal as it was. Feeling both contrite and confused, Cherche focused on the latter.
"Then… why? Why fight under the Ylissean banner, for the Ylissean cause? How?" she questioned.
Could she fight under Walhart's banner, even if the cause was noble? She didn't know.
Robin's hands were idly flipping through paintings of wyverns again; surely, she now could safely say that keeping his hands occupied was one way he calmed his nerves. The tent was slightly darker now, as the evening began to set in, causing his white hair to stand out even more.
"With my friendship with Chrom, Lissa, and the rest of the Shepherds, I can see why you might think that I fight for Ylisse… And while… ahem…while I do love Chrom and Lissa as if they were my own siblings," he trailed off, ruffling the ends of his oversized sleeves.
She waited for him to continue, suddenly very interested in his story.
"It wouldn't be untrue to say that I still hate their father for all of the horrors he inflicted on my countrymen. In the end, I fight for Plegia."
The wyvern rider could not at all hide her confusion at his declaration. He had led Ylisse to a stunning victory against the Mad King! What…
What was his game?
He laughed, this time less sincerely.
"And the irony isn't lost on me. That I hate Chrom's father but led Ylisse to yet another decisive victory against my home, I mean. But the people of Plegia… they deserve better than Gangrel, and certainly better than…" he trailed off again.
She herself hadn't been at the meeting between Chrom and the current ruler of Plegia, but she of course had heard the rumblings about the man's… unpleasantness during the Shepherds' shared time in the mess tent.
And it certainly made sense to her now that he had decided against attending the meeting himself, if he really was a Plegian in Ylisse's employ.
But why the hesitation? She had more questions than answers, at this point. She thought about speaking up, but decided against it.
"My father."
…?!
"What?"
If the topic was lighter, Robin might have enjoyed his first time seeing the unflappable Cherche looking so caught off guard.
He merely showed her a brittle smile.
"Yes, my father is the current ruler of Plegia, meaning that, yes, I am currently the heir, by blood, to Plegia's throne. Most of the Shepherds don't know that one yet, so consider that my gift to make up for not telling you about my nationality sooner."
He made a show of glancing out towards the still open tent flaps to indicate that night was about to fall.
"Well, I suppose that you have more questions for me, but I'm afraid that I'll have to put those, and these," he held out the dossier of wyvern profiles before stuffing them inside his robe, "on hold. Right now I have to catch up on figuring out how to defeat Walhart's million men."
He stepped out, but just as he was about to cross the threshold between her tent and the camp, he stopped.
"And Cherche… I promise you, that I will do everything in my power to free Roseanne and return you to your friends and family," he quietly declared, leaving before she could get a word in edgewise.
"Robin…"
That small talk about finding Minerva's mate could lead to all of that!
Still, she supposed that she should apologize for her anger.
XXXXX
Surely it couldn't be so difficult to have a minute alone with another member of the Shepherds!
She didn't begrudge the tactician for his unavailability – his dedication to strategy not only allowed them to continue their run of spectacular successes against Walhart's armies, but also kept all of the Shepherds alive.
Especially because each victory meant that they were closer and closer to liberating her home.
Still, whenever she saw him, she was reminded of several things:
His promise to free her country – a bold declaration if she had ever heard one.
The fact that she still felt as if she owed him an apology. Cherche was no coward, and had no qualms with apologizing if she felt that she was wrong.
And, while certainly not the biggest priority, she still wanted to speak with him about Minerva's future mate.
With that last thought, she made her way to the small clearing that the Shepherds were using as a makeshift training ground.
Time blurred as she lost herself in military routine, swinging her axe with a grace that belied its size.
As she planted her axe firmly into the torso of a hastily crafted dummy, she heard a deliberate cough from behind her. Turning to face who it was, Cherche wiped the sweat off of her brow and found their tactician looking as tired as he ever had, with a single file of papers in hand.
"Yes, Robin?"
"Cherche, I believe that I've found our perfect mate for Minerva," he said without delay, handing her the file.
"When you have the time, tell me what you think."
Before he could leave, Cherche reached out and took hold of his arm.
"Robin, I believe that I owe you an apology," she offered, with no hesitation.
The tactician's eyes widened a little bit.
"Um… for what?"
"For getting so cross with you. You, more than anyone save perhaps Say'ri or Lucina, understand the pain of losing your country… Maybe even more than that," the woman from Roseanne stated, her eyes softening as she spoke, noticing that Robin looked quite taken aback.
"I… No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put my troubles on you. Please, save your sympathy for someone more deserving."
The prince moved to release his sleeve from her hand, before she asked him another question.
"And why do you think that you're undeserving of my sympathy?"
The white haired man pulled his robe from her grip, but answered nonetheless.
"Cherche, you, Virion, Say'ri, Lucina's friends that we've managed to pick up… any of the Shepherds, really, are good people. So any of them instead of me. Take your pick. If you'll excuse me," he said with an air of finality about him-
"Robin! I ask this as your friend… what makes your cause different from ours? Is it not the case that you too fight against Walhart's tyranny? Against the future that Lucina warned us about?"
"Have I already given you the file on that wyvern I was talking about? Maybe I should make sure that it's the right one – Woah now, there's certainly no need to remind me that you're a better physical combatant. than I am," Robin held his hands out disarmingly when he noticed the pink haired woman's grip tighten around her axe.
"Please, continue, and then we'll see," she said with a menacing smile, her eyes closed.
"Ahem, well then. I would think that among all of the noble people in the Shepherds, traitor prince would come in pretty low on the list of good people we know," he quipped, before noticing the woman's features become more strained.
"Okay, gods! So I guess you really want to know. I don't think it's too complicated of an idea, really," he rambled.
Cherche sometimes wondered how he could transition from this into an already near legendary tactician, or why she felt concern for such an infuriatingly evasive man.
"I've already told you the biggest reason that I can think of, to be quite honest. Not only am I a traitor prince, but I was also at the forefront of my country's defeat at the hands of the nation that tried to inflict genocide on my people during my lifetime. And from the way Lucina and the other future kids tell it, after we've defeated Walhart, I'll have to do it again, only this time, I'll have to kill my father and add patricide next to treason, regicide, which I'll be committing again, and the murder of my own countrymen."
"…If you think so lowly of yourself then what is your plan for after it's all over?" she asked, her tone deceptively neutral.
It appeared that Robin was more out of sorts than he appeared if he wasn't able to catch on, because what he said next made her unbelievably angry.
"Well, I suppose I'll owe it to my people to put myself before them. Plegia will be free of Grima's judgement, but that shouldn't keep me from man's judgement. And you? Your pla-" His follow up question was interrupted by a fierce slap.
He looked up, only to take on a shocked expression when his eyes met hers.
They were moist, and her jaw was clenched as she gave him one of the angriest looks he had ever seen, both on and off of the battlefield.
"And I suppose that you were planning on telling them your guilt the same way that you just explained it to me? Knowing full well that they would execute you?! What of the Shepherds? Your friends? People who care about you?! You think that you can just laugh and smile and bleed with us and then… and then… just leave!? To go off and die, surrounded by hostility?! You…! S-stupid! Craven!"
Robin looked an odd mixture of offended, angry, and touched, but didn't say anything.
To think that she had ever thought of this… foolish, dastard of a man as gallant!
"Cherche…"
She didn't respond, instead angrily flicking moisture from her eyes.
"I didn't… It's more than I deserve for what I've done. But maybe I'll… reconsider my options," he said in an attempt to placate his friend, but she was having none of it.
"Let me know when you've considered the option to not be an idiot."
And with that she stormed off.
XXXXX
"Cherche, I admit that my way of thinking might have been a little inconsiderate of me," Robin said, entering the medical ward and pulling up a seat by her bedside, resting one arm besides her.
Laid up as she was, the knight just turned her head towards him.
"Still, you have to understand… I love my country, but I've still turned my sword towards her, even though she's suffered for as long as I've been alive. A crime… beyond explanation."
Cherche remained silent.
"Well, uh… right. Ahem. That is to say that, although I would love to experience the peace with you, and Chrom, and the rest of the Shepherds, the Plegian people deserve answers from their prince," he continued awkwardly.
"Then give them their answers," finally she spoke.
"Now, I understand your ang – huh?"
"Give them their answers. Answer their questions every day; help them recover. Rebuild its cities and schools. Show them, with every action you take, that everything you've done was for the Plegian people. But don't take the easy way out – that will leave them with only anger and uncertainty," she said resolutely.
She thought of Virion, her lord, who had left the country to Walhart's oppression in a desperate attempt to find aid; the people of Roseanne cursed his name for abandoning them. She thought of herself, leaving her home behind to fight.
She thought of Robin, the Plegian prince-in-exile, who took on the impossible burden of fighting both his father and the country he sought to protect, all for the sake of saving the world from the god that his people worshipped.
"…And, if after all of that, they can't see that you how much you've sacrificed for them, and everything you've done to save them from ruin…then maybe they didn't deserve the effort. You are a good man, Robin, no matter what you may think. The Shepherds… we all… that is to say that you are a dear friend to all of us. So please, don't take your life so lightly," she finished, laying one of her hands on his forearm and ignoring the sudden warmth in her cheeks.
"For you – and Minerva, of course – I'll work on it. You should get better soon; I'll be able to chaperone Minerva's date like you both wanted," the white haired man said with a soft smile, a blush adorning his face as well.
Cherche's cheeks felt warmer than she could ever recall when he moved his other hand to cover hers on his forearm.
And of course, as soon as he had done this, they would have guests.
"Oh my! Darling, it seems that we've interrupted something!" Maribelle's voice shot through the tent as she stepped into the medical ward.
That had to mean that not too far behind was…
"What?! Robin and Cherche!? Oh! You've got to tell me everything!" Lissa gushed as she jumped up and down, pointing animatedly at their hands.
Robin jolted in place and quickly removed his hands, both from her hand and her bed, and she found herself disappointed.
"Lissa dear, I'm sure that Cherche will be sure to tell us all about her relationship with our scoundrel of a tactician during our check-up. That means that you," she emphasized, directing a pointed look at Robin, "need to get out. Surely even someone like you is civilized enough to depart as we check on an injured woman, yes?"
As she watched Maribelle all but throw Robin out of the tent, Cherche made ready for a barrage of questions from the younger women.
"You and Robin!? Oh gods and he was holding your hand and everything! It was so adorable! You sure got yourself a catch, huh?"
Paying no attention to Lissa's youthful bluntness, Cherche merely smiled.
"…Yes, I suppose I have."
XXXXX
The deed was done, and as Say'ri mourned the brother she felled with her own blade, so too did the rest of the Shepherds look upon her in sadness.
"We're closer to defeating Walhart…but the cost," Robin voice petered out with a sigh as he looked over at Say'ri again.
She was in the same tent with Robin for the fifth time in as many days, with the alleged goal of finding a mate for Minerva. But given that he had already provided her with what they both agreed was the best prospect…
At any rate, Cherche was glad for the pretense to so frequently speak alone.
"Damn... I never should have let her convince me that she should be the one to fight Yen'fay. This could have been avoided… Gods!" he bit out, flipping through old profiles to at least maintain the façade. She stood not more than a single pace behind him, close enough to look over his shoulder but not close enough to be in physical contact.
No matter what Lissa and Maribelle thought – and undoubtedly spread to the rest of the Shepherds, if some her recent interactions were to be trusted – she wasn't quite sure what they were.
They had shared closer things than friends would, and yet…
Dispelling those thoughts for another time, she made to assuage the man of his guilt.
"Robin, I understand your wish to protect us all, but remember that Say'ri, like all of us, must make our own choices as well; to take away her freedom to choose would surely be worse, would it not?"
He paced back and forth, clearly hesitant about something.
"I just can't help but wish that there was a way to spare her the pain of striking down her family, is all," he admitted, his shoulders sagging with stress, before he took a breath and continued, "Yen'fay… I feel like I would have much liked to meet him, in a better life. Everything he did for his sister… to see him pass with happiness for her, yet also seeing that he died with so much regret…I guess I learned something from all of it. This. Speaking with you."
"Robin," she began, before he suddenly turned around and took a hold of both of her hands.
"I – oh my! R-robin?! T-this! What's gotten into you?"
Her face felt hotter than it had when she was fighting in the shadow of the Demon's Ingle!
"-Cherche! I! You! Ugh, gods," he stammered, his face as red a mess as hers. Cherche took some consolation in the fact that whatever madness had gripped him, it made him look as much a fool as she felt.
"Cherche, I realized that for all of my regrets, this couldn't be one of them! Seeing Yen'fay die with so much left unsaid… the first thing I thought of was you… and… and how much I love you. I made a promise to deliver you to your friends and home, and now, let me make another: to care for and look after you and Minerva for the rest of my days," he panted, his eyes blazing with a fire she had only previously seen from him on the battlefield.
She could only hope that his emotions were as much a wreck as hers were; the pink haired woman could feel her heart bursting as it beat out of control, such was her shock.
But also… her elation.
She watched mutely as he put himself on one knee in front of her, and reached around his neck to produce a gold ring, suspended by a thin, silver chain, the deep purple gem laid inside sparkling more than even the shining band itself.
To Cherche, it looked like the most beautiful jewelry in the world.
"Cherche, will you marry me?" he finally asked; she could see that he waited with baited breath.
"R-robin… I… Th-this is so surprising! Yes, I accept! Oh! I gladly accept!" she exclaimed, a stray tear of happiness making its way down her still hot cheeks.
She slid the ring on and used that same hand to take hold of his own, which was now clutching her hand as snugly as the band was wrapped around her finger.
Taking his palm and laying it on her cheek, she smiled.
"Heh, it's funny. Being close like this just feels...right. It's as if it was always meant to be," Cherche said, closing her eyes softly as Robin moved to embrace her, her head moving to rest against his shoulder.
She didn't know how long they stood there in each other's arms. All the same, Cherche couldn't concern herself with time, not when she was as content as she had ever been.
"Hm…a dashing prince who comes, promising to save a woman's home? To think that when I met you, I had no idea you were such a charmer," she happily teased, remaining where she was.
Cherche felt his laughter vibrate through his breast, and could think of no sweeter feeling.
XXXXX
In an ideal world, settling down with her fiancé in the aftermath of the final battle with Walhart would have been her happy ending, she mused.
Still, to have found love and saved her country against what should have been insurmountable odds was a gift in itself, as was stumbling upon their two children along the way.
Their two children who were the subject of their conversation at that exact moment.
"I know that it won't make them happy, but I think that Gerome and Morgan would do the most good helping Roseanne recover," he started for the umpteenth time.
"Dear, I think you'll find them to be more than your match when it comes to stubbornness," she sighed, trying to convey to him, again, that their children would end up following them back for the final confrontation with Validar.
"Well, I know that you all will be worried, but would it help if I promised to write every day?"
That statement carried some new implications that Cherche didn't find herself enjoying.
"Why, you make it sound as if you want me to stay behind as well, when all of our dear friends, including my fiancé, are fighting for their lives," she said gently, trusting that Robin would recognize the not-so-subtle threat behind her closed eyes.
The tactician quickly waved his hands in front of him, recognizing thin ice when he saw it.
"No! I would never ask that of you! I just… I just assumed that you would want to stay here, with your friends and family from Roseanne, now that you have the chance," the white haired man stated, imploring her to believe him.
Cherche's anger lessened considerably. Trust her fiancé to get caught up in something she had said long ago. Best for her to kill two birds, at least, with one stone.
"Robin, being in Roseanne won't mean anything if you aren't there to enjoy it with; you are my happiness. And that's why I trust you'll get rid of the foolish notion that I'll be anywhere but by your side. How can I trust you to take care of yourself when I'm not around?" she told him sincerely, not feeling any surprise at all when he became noticeably happier.
Really, that such a brilliant man would still occasionally need reassurance that she loved him.
He coughed into his hand, seeming embarrassed that his happiness was so obvious.
"Well, er… right. Then I suppose that we'll be able to come back and enjoy Roseanne together – with Minerva, of course."
"Nothing would make me happier."
XXXXX
In hindsight, Cherche cursed herself for not attempting to dissuade her fiancé from trying to reason with his father. If she had, then perhaps she wouldn't be searching for him around the Shepherds' camp like a madwoman, not even taking the time to grab Minerva to aid her.
Validar was not at all upset to see his wayward son; instead, if stories were to be believed, he looked rather smug.
He surmised – correctly, she supposed – that Robin's surprise at his father's easy acknowledgement would make him easier to... control.
After Robin had thrown Validar the Fire Emblem and collapsed, she and Minerva stood guard over him zealously following their retreat, daring any to come and question his loyalty, or insinuate in any way that he had thrown his lot in with Grima.
Her unspoken reputation as the most intimidating person in the army served her well.
When he finally woke, he assured her that all he needed was a moment to gather his thoughts, and like a concerned fool she believed him.
"Chrom, have you perhaps seen my fiancé?" she asked the man who would essentially become her brother-in-law.
"Cherche… yes, I'm actually following him now, to make sure that that godsdamned idiot doesn't do anything stupid! Naga above! Tell me, Cherche, he can't really think we blame him for what happened?" he inquired, simultaneously beckoning her to follow him into a small tree line.
The woman from Roseanne, for her part, was glad that someone else so clearly shared her concern.
She made to respond when Chrom suddenly held his palm out and put a finger to his lips. Looking passed him, she saw Robin and Lucina, the two of them facing each other with only a little distance between them.
Cherche began listening keenly, as she was sure that Chrom was doing.
"…Robin, I… please, forgive me!"
The wyvern rider gripped her axe tightly as Lucina drew and pointed Falchion at their tactician. Only Chrom's firm grip on her shoulder kept her in place, and even then just barely.
She would wait for a little longer, to see if Lucina lowered her sword. And if she didn't, then Cherche would soon be charged with assaulting her commander's daughter and the princess of Ylisse.
"Lucina!?"
"Stay where you are, Robin! I have no choice. I must kill you, for the sake of the future!"
Chrom's grip on her shoulder became tighter, as if begging her to just give them more time.
She did not share his hope about this conflict between his daughter and his best friend.
"What madness is this!?"
"In the future, all I knew was that my father had been killed by his closest friend. Having witnessed your bond with him, I doubted it could be so... But today's events make it clear. You are at Validar's mercy. I suspect it's he who forces you to take my father's life, and very soon..."
"Lucina, you don't have to-!"
"I'm… I'm sorry, Robin! I know that this is murder, but please! If you have any love for Chrom, let this be done. I promise that your end will be painless," she cried, clearly shaken by the prospect of killing her father's friend and one of the most beloved members of the Shepherds.
Not that Cherche had any sympathy for the princess.
Now, even Chrom had heard enough and made to step forward.
Bursting forward into the clearing, Cherche moved between the two as Chrom went to scold his future daughter.
She watched with only slight satisfaction as Lucina was cowed by her father's angry words, sending a harsh look the princess' way when Lucina turned her eyes towards her and Robin.
Inside, she knew that, for the sake of unity within the Shepherds, she really shouldn't be glaring so openly and venomously at one her comrades, much less so when that comrade was both the princess of Ylisse and their commander's eldest daughter.
"I would ask your forgiveness, Robin, but I cannot expect it. And your forgiveness as well, lady Cherche," Lucina offered with a grim expression, before turning to leave. Chrom looked like he was going to say something to Robin, before the Plegian requested that they save that for another time.
"Well, Robin, I'm glad to see that gathering your thoughts was so eventful," she reprimanded, knowing full well that her anger was directed at Lucina and not her love.
"Haaa, Cherche, I really was only gathering my thoughts. Honest," he said with a nervous laugh.
"Hmph. The only reason I'm letting you off the hook this time is because you seem to realize that Lucina's way of thinking is wrong."
"There is a part of me that thinks that she might be right, but – okay, please put the axe down. But! A bigger part of me remembers what you said about making decisions without considering other people, namely people that are dear to you…And I certainly couldn't bear to leave you and our kids behind, on top of that. Not when there's another way."
Cherche graced him with a small smile. Good. It looked like her brilliant, stupid tactician of a fiancé actually could learn.
XXXXX
As they marched towards the Dragon's Table, she could not help but notice Robin's discontent expression; his mood seemed to only get worse as they passed more and more Plegians travelling to Grima's altar, as if they were pulled by an unseen force.
"Is something the matter, Robin?" she asked, concerned. If he heard her, he didn't respond, instead continuing to look with shadowed eyes at every traveler they passed.
"Robin?"
This time, she managed to get his attention with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"…Cherche, when Lucina said that she had to kill me," he started, the mention of the incident making her own expression cool considerably.
"Yes, well, I'm sure that she's since realized her mistake," she cut in, a hint of malice in her voice.
"No, it's not that. It's… Hm. If keeping you and our family safe required only my life, then I would give it gladly. Please, let me finish. But, the knowledge that I have a responsibility to others held my tongue; my responsibility to you, Gerome, Morgan, and…"
"…your country," she finished for him, having caught on to his meaning, at least a little.
"Yes. I have no doubt that Chrom would be a kind and just ruler, but he is the Exalt of Ylisse. And it is no secret that, after two wars and the deaths of two Exalts, many in Ylisse still harbor ill-will towards Plegia… even Chrom and many of the Shepherds," he said quietly, just a touch louder than whispering, so that none but her may hear his words easily.
Robin sent her a wry grin.
"It looks like you were right after all. Again. If I were gone, the line of succession to Plegia's throne would be scrambled, and I have no doubt that what noble families remain would be quick to arms. I can't let that happen; I have a responsibility to these people. As you said, I will help Plegia rebuild…"
"If all goes well, they will have you to thank, Cherche. For being a pillar for me to lean on, and a beacon to dispel my foolishness," he finished, flashing her a crooked smile.
Hearing him speak so earnestly about her never failed to bring her warmth. Although…
If Robin became Plegia's king, would she in turn become its queen? Hm…certainly something that she would have to bring up with him later.
For now, she could content herself with idle talk.
XXXXX
It had so far been a day of dark revelations. Grima followed Lucina into the past, and shortly after revealing himself, had proceeded to… devour the pilgrims at the Dragon's Table, much to Robin's despair.
Robin… that her beloved was bred to be Grima's host. Once upon a time, she didn't think that she could hate anyone more than Walhart.
Now, she knew that she couldn't hate anyone more than Validar. She never said so to Robin, though, seeing the sadness that clouded his eyes when his father perished. She had only asked him once about his previous life with the man; the miserable expression on his face as he told her that there was a time when he was a good father convinced her to put the issue to rest.
But that was neither here nor now. No, her problem was much more serious.
"Robin, I don't care what Naga claims! You have people who need you here now! Let Falchion strike the final blow!" she all but yelled at him, trying to convince the tactician once again. Surely his next rebuttal would involve the needs of the many, or ensuring the future, as they all had.
"It is not Chrom's place to judge Grima!" he roared, a vein appearing on his temple. Before she could reply she found herself wrapped firmly in his embrace.
"Robin, I don't understand… Why can't you just stay here, with us? With…me?" she asked, her eyes misting lightly as she returned his affection. She clung to him tightly, to try and convince him through her gesture where her words were failing.
"Because… Grima tried to make me answer to him, to just accept being his host as some kind of 'destiny.' But he doesn't yet understand… When we face him, I will not be answering to Grima. No, Grima will answer to me," Robin finished grimly, even as he rested his head against hers.
"What do you mean, love?"
"It's as I said. Ylisse does not have the right to pass judgement on Grima, not like Plegia. Beyond the slaughter of innumerable Plegians for his own power, Grima has much to answer for."
Cherche didn't speak; she had had enough intimate conversations with the man to know when he needed to get something off of his chest.
"Where was he when all of Plegia prayed for him? When every mother and father and child in Plegia begged for him to deliver us from the Ylisseans? We… we worshipped Grima, loved him. Before I knew Grima as the fell dragon I knew him as our god," Robin paused, even as Cherche felt his light shuddering through their embrace.
"As Ylisse's armies burned our cities and my people, he never came. Our god… he never came, even when our country turned into a mass grave," he said, letting loose a single sob before seeming to get himself under control.
Cherche merely tightened her hold.
"My father told me when I was a young child that we would give Grima new life; I suppose that even after I learned that Grima's return would mean the ruination of the world, I never forgave him for abandoning us, even though I knew better. And to kill so many of his worshippers…he is beyond anything but my anger," the tactician finished, his breathing becoming less erratic near the end.
"And is that your final decision?" she asked, the anger having long since drained out of her, leaving only sadness and exhaustion.
"Cherche, don't think that is a goodbye; Grima has taken too much already – he won't take you from me as well. Remember, Naga's words were that I could return if our bonds were strong enough. And I have no doubt in my mind that my bonds with you, with our children, will be more than enough to bring me home," Robin reassured, although to the pink haired woman he sounded less certain than she was sure he hoped.
She leaned back and looked him in the eye.
"Before, you made me a promise that you would free Roseanne and see me to her…could you make me another?"
"Always," he answered, without hesitation.
"If you must do this, then promise me that you'll come home. After all, Minerva would be heartbroken to lose you... All right... I... Would be heartbroken to lose you..."
She covered his lips with her own before he could say anything.
XXXXX
If the days before his return were some of the darkest in her life, then the day he returned was easily the brightest.
She remembered a joyous and tearful embrace, her two children, even reserved Gerome, joining in. She remembered watching him request that Virion release her from his service, so that she may join him on his return to Plegia; her former liege accepted the request easily and happily, much to her delight.
She recalled him addressing the people of Plegia for the first time, as they cried for their king who had freed them from Grima, and threw flowers in his direction. He maintained his composure just long enough to usher her inside with him, before falling to his knees and weeping with relief. She just held him, happy beyond words that her now husband did not have to bear the burden of his peoples' hate, as the attendants around them looked on, unsure of what to do upon seeing their king in such a state.
This time, it was not Minerva that shook her out of her reverie, but one of her aforementioned attendants.
"Milady, your husband, Prince Gerome, and Princess Morgan were looking for you. I pray that I haven't disturbed your time with Minerva," the woman said, head bowed for her queen.
Cherche waved her off with a smile and a simple, "it's quite all right."
She still hadn't quite gotten used to everyone left and right deferring to her as a queen; she had previously been a knight, after all.
The wyvern rider heard Minerva let out a happy growl, the kind she reserved for family. Looking towards the direction that the woman had come from, Cherche saw her husband carrying a young Morgan in one arm even as his other hand held onto young Gerome's. The elder children followed as well, Morgan cooing over how adorable she was and Gerome trying to hide an embarrassed blush at the sight of himself as an innocent child.
Looking at her husband and the happiness that he brought to her and her children…
Yes, certainly the greatest man that she had ever known.
XXXXX
Jeez. Just a bunch of random ideas that I clumped together into this barebones as all hell oneshot. I guess it's kind of Valentine-y too, so there's that.
Thanks for reading.