The walls themselves seemed to cave with each step, fire whipping around and leaping with each foot fall, drawing the man in question ever closer to his destination. The feral grin that had plastered itself on his features outlined his teeth in the inferno's glow, pallid alabaster and fiery orange mixing in his treacherous mouth. The electricity arcing betwixt his fingers seemed to calm, the man stepping over the fallen body of the woman who had met her fate at his uncaring hands. Mousy brown locks he had oft stared at with disgust, the feeling mingling with a fierce jealousy that ate away at his insides.
Despair raced like lightning across his mind, gone as quickly as it came as the man stamped down the emotions that belonged to his other half, taking a moment to still himself, to regain control over this body that he had yearned to use as his vessel for so long.
"Don't act so down, you know deep down that you loathed the woman for taking away any chance of being with the Exalt."
His words bit deeply at the man inside of him, the half-truth in his words rising shame laced bile within his other half, a barking laugh leaving his lips as he pushed a hand against the splintered door. The flames withered away from the man, leaving him passing through the inferno raging around him with nary a burn, some even dying entirely where his foot had fallen. The man recognized the halls, even in their ruin, turning with a deliberateness, half his focus afforded to keeping his other half quelled, finding each lapse in concentration the other managed another feat despite being suppressed.
With each step he took, the other wondered where he was going, wondering what he could be so desperate to get to, considering that the castle was crumbling around them, the man's doing, no less. It took one more turn for the man to realize the other's plans, and he howled out in his mind, the sound ricocheting around inside of his mind.
Grima! Stay away from them!
Fingers buried themselves into his own silver locks, grasping at them fiercely as a headache split his skull, driving the tactician to his knees. His head swung, the two within caught in a tug-of-war, a clash of wills. The pain of the two tearing their mind apart sent arcs of jagged agony through their psyche's lights smattering along the insides of their eyes as their brain tried to make sense of what it was going through.
Robin finally won, slumping forward as Grima curled up inside of his mind, recuperating from their fight. His breath was ragged, harsh and dragging nails through his throat as he stumbled onto his feet, turning his head to the door to the throne room. The door was embellished with the Brand of the Exalt, and there was no mistaking what would lie within. He could hear the Risen now, even the slashing and clashing of steel, and his heart leapt when he heard an unmistakable shout.
Chrom was in there, fighting off the very onslaught of enemies he had brought forth.
He staggered forward, desperate in his needs to tell Chrom, to get to him before Grima could, and beguile and warp his words to harm the King. Part of him wanted to run, unable to face the man after having been the one to slaughter his wife, but he knew when to choose his instinct over his reason, and this was not such a time. The man pressed himself against the door, throwing his weight against the heavy wooden door, slipping in when it had opened enough to grant him entrance.
Surely, the Risen had infiltrated the throne room, and the King stood near the apex of his throne, slashing with the Falchion through the enemies. The tactician lifted his hand, lightning arcing from his fingertips as he directed the magical force to jump from Risen to Risen, each of them bursting into dark plumes of dust. The flashes of light drew the Exalt's gaze up from the body he had just pulled his blade from, and a smile lit up his face.
The man felt his heart simultaneously sink and skip at that smile, wondering how the other could look so genuinely happy to see him, even without the knowledge that he had masterminded the assault on the castle.
"Robin! Glad to see you're still alive—although you do seem to be a little crispy." The man shouted, giving a good-natured chuckle as he came closer. Robin pressed his hands up, trying to keep the King from getting too close, but Chrom wasn't deterred, coming ever closer and wrapping an arm around the man, drawing him in for a close embrace.
The man was stock still through it all, hands pressing into the other's chest. "C-Chrom, enough—you… I have to tell you something." He said hurriedly, watching those steely eyes settle on him, the veneer of confusion plain as day on his face.
"What is it, Robin? You… You look troubled." He murmured, and Robin cursed the man's ability to read him as though he were an open book. He wondered how he could even tell the man that all this was his own doing, that it was his fault that the Halidom was burning around them, and that he had been the one that ended Sumia's life. He bowed his head, unable to meet the man's eyes any longer before managing to choke out his feeble attempt to explain.
"I-It's… Chrom, it's Grima." He said, and he felt the Exalt's hands squeeze his shoulders, Robin's chocolate gaze meeting the harsh stare of the King.
"What about Grima?" He asked, and no sooner had the words left his lips that Robin felt his mind tear itself asunder. Chrom cried out as the man slumped forward, all the strength leaving him as he lowered him to the ground, kneeling beside him. The alarmed questions leaving the man's mouth were drowned out as the two fought for power, Robin feeling his control on his body slipping away slowly but surely, wails coming to his lips, surely knowing what fate awaited the man he loved if Grima took control.
Chrom held the man while he shook, trying to pry his fingers away from his head, the Exalt fearing the other would hurt himself if he continued. Suddenly, the man stopped, and Chrom tilted his head, trying to get a good look at his friend. He jumped when Robin's head snapped up, those warm brown eyes he had come to know so fondly replaced with an almost cherry red, fear racing cold up his back as a feral grin split the other's face.
"He says, 'hello' is all. And, goodbye." Grima hissed, letting the spell he had left lingering in his hands manifest, the spear of lightning driving itself deep into the Exalt's chest. Grima stood slowly, reveling in the garbled words that tried to make it up to his mouth, choking on the blood that rose to his lips. He stepped away from the body, letting it fall to the side with a satisfying thump against the stone floor. Howls resounded in Grima's ears, one coming from within as Robin watched the man he loved die in front of him, the light leaving his eyes as he stared at his trusted friend after being betrayed; the other coming from his daughter, bloodied and burnt as she stood by the door.
Grima smirked, turning his gaze to the girl with that same unsettling grin that was all teeth, crooning to her in his leering voice.
"Hello, Lucina—you came just in time to catch the final act." He purred, watching the girls face streak with tears that cut through the soot and blood on her skin. Her arms trembled, threatening to drop the sword in her position before she hefted it higher, her high shrieks pairing with Robin's sobbing in his head.
"You monster!" She screamed, composure failing her as she felt her world crumbling down around her as surely as the castle walls. "Has everything you've been through with Father mean nothing?! Was this all just a ploy to take power?!" Grima stared at the girl, satisfaction growing at the suffering he was causing, glancing down to Chrom's body and watching the electricity fizzling out. He stooped, reaching and hauling the Falchion out of the man's scabbard, admiring its length before swinging it casually. He let her words simmer for a long while, so long that the girl roared out once more. "Answer me, damn you!"
"Hmm? Oh, no—see, you've got it all wrong, dear Princess." Grima purred, advancing on the girl. "I care not one wit for your father, but… You know, the man who used to control this body loved your father." He crooned, and the girl shook her head, eyes wide with fear and sorrow.
"U-Used? Who are you, and what have you done with Robin?!" The Princess continued to back away, slipping towards the door. Grima opened his mouth to respond to the girl, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk until he felt the tears stream down his face. He brought a hand up to touch them, the wave of anguish washing over him as Robin's howls of despair bubbled up to the surface, and Grima growled.
"Oh, please. Get over it already—and stop with the hysteria, I can't think straight." He turned his attention back to Lucina, blinking as he saw her retreating form through the open door, letting out a bemused laugh as he shook his head. "Very well, little Princess. Flee while you can—it won't help you in the long run… Get it? Long run?" He chuckled, aiming the joke at Robin, waiting for any sort of response other than the sobs that the other gave before sighing. "Get over yourself, it's not the end of the world… Oh, sorry, I forgot—it is."
He mused, dropping the Falchion as he turned to the throne, climbing the steps and perching himself upon it, watching through the large windows on the far side of the throne room the city, razed beneath him. He crossed one leg over the other with a lethargic sigh, leaning back in the chair as he gazed upon his new empire, relishing in his plans for the Halidom, and the rest of the world, in the months to come.
Anngsstttt. Beautiful, beautiful angst. I saw this: g-r-i-m-a. tumblr post/133485402805/one-of-my-mysterious-commissioners-instead-of and couldn't help myself from writing something for it. Please, go and check out their lovely artwork!