…FE is precious to me. I have too much on my plate already, but here I am starting something else. This plot has been throwing itself at my brain since I finished Awakening, though, so perhaps getting it out of the way will help.
What can I say, what if scenarios are a specialty.
Disclaimed.
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Prologue I: Recollection
Validar scowls, glaring at the map stretched out across the table. "Damn," he mutters. "So the Exalt still lives… I told Gangrel his plan was foolish." He considers the map for a long moment. "Such idiocy. One must wonder how he's lasted so long as king… Ah, Master Grima. The things I do for you."
A young voice breaks into his musings. "Father?"
Validar turns quickly, glaring at the white-haired boy in the doorway. "Robin! What have I told you about entering my private office?"
"I am sorry, Father," Robin murmurs, dark brown eyes fixed on his gloved hands. "…May I ask a question?" He lowers his head submissively, looking up through his eyelashes.
"You may."
The boy's eyes seem to glitter violet for a moment. Perhaps it's the light. "Who is… Master Grima?"
Validar considers this for a moment. How much should he tell the boy? Perhaps not everything, yet. Aware that Robin is awaiting his answer, he takes the boy's right hand, running his fingers over the concealed brand he knows is there. "He is a god, child; the god of the Grimleal. You bear his mark."
"Is that what this is?" Robin asks, gaze shadowed.
"Yes, boy." Validar stands. "Now go. I am very busy at the moment; I need to think."
"Yes, Father," the boy murmurs, bowing deeply. He steps outside and vanishes into the shadows of the hallway.
Validar sighs. "Just like his mother," he complains quietly. "I wouldn't even keep him here if it weren't for Master Grima…"
Robin's mother, Elice, was a noble, beautiful woman, of course; no one else could possibly have had blood fair enough to purify his own bloodline sufficiently to create a vessel who could support Grima's power. At the very last moment, however, she had had doubts; mere days after Robin's birth, she had attempted to flee with the newborn child. There had been an argument, he recalls, the day before; Robin's brand had appeared, and Elice had been… less than pleased. It seemed she hadn't expected their child to be of pure enough blood.
He had had no choice but to kill her, of course; if she tried to take the boy once, she would undoubtably try again. Not that he ever told Robin this; as far as the boy is aware, his mother fled the country soon after his birth, abandoning the pair of them. Robin hates her for it, of course. It's only natural. "Well, she's long gone now," he tells himself, shoving away the memories.
"Now, where was I before that brat interrupted? Ah, yes. The king…"
On the other side of the now-closed door, Robin frowns, violet-brown eyes narrowing to glittering slits. So, the fifteen year old thinks, that's how it is.
Perhaps his trust in his father is slightly… misplaced.
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*~Two years later~*
"Father?" Chrom asks quietly, glancing over at the Exalt. "Is something wrong?"
The other man scowls. "King Gangrel has fallen," he says irritably. "His replacement is sending a few nobles to negotiate a treaty."
Emmeryn nods. "Is that not a good thing?" she asks. "If we can end the war-"
The Exalt cuts her off. "A good thing? If it were anyone else, I'd agree. However, for this… man to suddenly decide to end the war, but not even come himself? I don't believe it is as altruistic as it seems."
Chrom nods. "What would you have us do?"
His father smiles. "Simple. The emissary is bringing Validar's son with him, for… "experience". The boy has never left Plegia before in his life; it should be simple enough to find out what, exactly, his father and is planning without him realising what you're doing. He's around your age, Chrom; I imagine you can feign curiosity well enough."
Emmeryn frowns. The expression seems off on her face. "It seems… wrong," she murmurs. "You're asking us to take advantage of a boy's naiveté in order to gain battle plans? What will happen to him should King Validar discover what happened?"
"Not our concern," the man says dismissively. "You will be Exalt once I am gone, Emmeryn; you must learn to make these hard decisions. Chrom," he adds, turning to his son, "you understand, don't you?"
To be perfectly honest, Chrom doesn't understand at all. But after eighteen years of life, he knows better than to disobey the Exalt. "Yes, Father."
It takes three weeks for everything to be settled. The party arrives a few days later, all menacing smiles that are more like scowls and cool, patronizing words. They don't see Validar's mysterious son until the next day, when Lady Aversa, the head of the party, introduces him with an offhand wave and a quick "My liege, Prince Robin."
Chrom is fascinated, he must admit. The young prince is maybe a year younger than he himself, with the same pale skin of Emmeryn or Lissa; like someone who has never stepped outside their home in their life. He's almost painfully thin, as well; his clothes seem to swallow him, and the advisors and guards around him send almost-concerned looks in his direction every once in a while, though they look away immediately, as though catching themselves. His hair is a clear white, like starlight or snow or ice, and the sunlight makes it glow. Then he glances up through translucent eyelashes, and Chrom can't help the way his breath catches in his throat; the prince's eyes are a glittering brown-violet, shimmering with an intelligence beyond his years. Suddenly the older prince isn't so sure it will be easy to get battle plans from this boy.
"Your majesty," he murmurs, bowing his head in a clever way that denotes respect without even a hint of subservience, although maybe Chrom's just reading too much into the gesture. "My ladies; my lord." Even though his father's Plegian accent, from what little Chrom has been told, is harsh and discordant, Robin's is gentle, with an almost musical sound, and Chrom thinks he could just listen to this boy's voice all day.
The Exalt coughs, drawing his son from his revery. "Lady Aversa, may I suggest my children show Prince Robin around the palace, so that he can find his room later? He won't learn much from watching us set up."
Aversa shoots him a look that says she knows exactly what he's doing. "Of course," she purrs in a voice that just oozes insincerity. "That is, if my liege agrees…?"
The prince bows; there's no respect in the gesture, this time, just acquiescence and the faintest hint of unwillingness. Again, though, it's probably Chrom reading too much into the motion. "That sounds fine."
Chrom is struck by the grudging submission in his voice, but he isn't given time to dwell on it before those dark eyes are fixed on him and he has to look away, focusing instead on the silver circlet half-obscured by the almost-matching shade of his hair. Lissa snorts. Emmeryn merely shakes her head fondly and meets the younger royal's gaze with a gentle smile. "We would be glad to. If you would like to come this way, Prince Robin?"
"Of course, my lady," comes the even reply. Chrom feels as though he's caught up watching some sort of dance, as the two heirs speak in careful yet friendly tones, never giving anything away, but never appearing rude, either. He himself has never been very good at diplomacy, nor has Lissa, and it's times like these he truly appreciates Emmeryn's talent.
Robin seems content to follow them silently after that brief exchange. Emmeryn, it appears, is happy to let him, and Lissa undoubtably doesn't know what to say to this admittedly attractive young man. Which leaves it up to Chrom to lure him into revealing his father's plans. "So… what does King Validar hope to get from this treaty?"
(Subtlety has never been a talent of his.)
Emmeryn sighs and Lissa groans at his lack of tact, but Robin merely laughs. It's a soft, almost delicate sound that sends a thrill of happiness down Chrom's spine. "Safety for our people, I assume, but I wouldn't know. Father never tells me anything." There's no trace of annoyance or bitterness in his words as one would expect, but Chrom finds himself becoming angry on the other's behalf. Surely, as crown prince, Validar should be explaining these things to his son?
But Robin merely waves off the subject with what Chrom is already beginning to see as his usual amiability. Whether he's truly so easygoing or just an excellent actor is… debatable, but that's none of the elder prince's business, to be honest.
Robin quickly draws the Ylissean royals into a discussion of magic; he's an aspiring mage, they discover. From the way he tells it, he isn't very good. But if his explanation of the sensations that come from using Arcthunder or Thoron are from personal experience, as they seem to be, he's much better than he gives himself credit for.
Chrom finds himself distracted by the way Robin's personality seems to spin on its axis; as soon as they get a decent distance from the council rooms, he turns to face them with a cheery smile and sparkling chocolate coloured eyes, abandoning their discussion of magic and switching topics in a heartbeat. "Tell me about Ylisse," he begs. "I'm taught nothing but geography and army statistics, so I really don't know anything about other countries…"
Emmeryn and Lissa both turn to Chrom. He coughs, scratching the back of his neck. "Well…"
It's not the best explanation, he knows. It's quick and unsteady, leaping from one topic to the next without hesitating. If Robin is confused, he doesn't show it; instead, he nods and smiles and asks questions in all the right places, making it impossible to decide whether he's acting or just legitimately interested. If the Plegian is as good at diplomacy as he seems to be, the negotiations should go perfectly smoothly.
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As it turns out, Chrom's prediction couldn't have been farther from the mark. It's not through any fault of Robin's, who attempts to smooth things over whenever he's allowed to speak, calming the advisors and debaters on both sides with calm logic and a few quiet rebukes. Rather, it's the Exalt and Validar's negotiators; the Plegians seem determined to inflame the hatred of the Ylissean court, and the Exalt is happy to comply.
Things come to a head three days in. Up until this point, there have been angry words and a handful of almost-threats, but that's it; now, Chrom is listening to an advisor who can't be much older than he himself chatter about alliances and agreement, going on and on about blood and making bad puns about crows. It's only making things worse, Chrom thinks, a sentiment Robin apparently shares, as he leans forward and rests a cautionary hand on the advisor's arm. "Henry."
The white-haired mage sits down. "Sorry, your highness." He grins in a decidedly unapologetic manner.
Robin makes as though to stand and say his piece. One of the other negotiators, a wyvern rider whose name Chrom can't recall, beats him to it, hands spread wide. "Exalt, I do not think these negotiations are going anywhere. It appears the gods have not answered my prayers for an equally favourable conclusion. As such, I shall have to… accelerate my timetable slightly."
Robin's eyes widen, the prince jumping to his feet. "Don't-"
Before anyone else can move, the man draws an axe from his cloak and tosses it straight into the Exalt's chest. Chrom, sitting beside him, sees the man fall as though in slow motion, eyes wide with startled pain. For a split second, there's dead silence. To their credit, most of the Plegians look just as startled as the Ylisseans; it seems they, too, believed they were simply here to negotiate. Chrom's eyes scan the room, searching for then holding Robin's gaze. The younger prince's dark eyes are wild with saddened, resigned anguish and something akin to fear. There are no answers there to why the negotiations went so wrong so quickly, but-
He knew. He knew the wyvern rider was planning something. Chrom looks away, in a steady, deliberated movement. He can feel Robin's eyes still on him; after a moment he turns, watches silently as Aversa roughly snatches the prince's arm and teleports them away in a shower of sparks. Some of the Plegian advisors make to run; the one closest to Chrom turns as though to attack him. The man falls suddenly, a stricken look on his face. Henry, the blood-obsessed dark mage, meets the prince's gaze with a grin, tapping the cover of the tome in his hand. A couple other advisors are, likewise, subduing those who look ready to attack.
Frederick, his and Lissa's bodyguard, runs to Chrom's side. "Milord, are you alright?"
"Yes," the prince manages. "Yes, I'm fine. Lissa and Emmeryn-"
"-Are alright," Frederick confirms. "I sent Stahl, Sully and Phila after Lady Aversa and Prince Robin, though I don't have high hopes of them reaching him." He shoots Chrom a concerned look. "Did Prince Robin give any hint as to what was planned?"
The prince shakes his head. "I don't think he knew. He knew something was being plotted, but I don't believe he knew what."
Frederick nods. "The other Shepherds are keeping the Plegians from leaving; perhaps one of the advisors will know something?"
"Perhaps," Chrom allows, though he doubts it. From the looks of things, it seems no one knew what the man was planning. Even so, it's better to check and learn nothing than ignore the possibility and miss important information. He frowns. "Of course, what we really need to do is find Aversa and Robin. I have a sneaking suspicion that they're the only ones other than the- killer himself who know anything."
"Yes," the great knight agrees. "Milord, did Prince Robin ever… imply that he knew what the assassin was planning?"
"No," the prince sighs. "I don't think he did."
Far to the west, Robin spins around to face his father almost before he and Aversa have fully landed. "What the hell have you done?!" he yells. "You've just made things worse! You've-"
He's cut off by the impact of Validar's hand against his cheek. "Be silent!" he snaps. "Do not pass judgement on actions you cannot hope to comprehend. I did this for you, boy; so that you can fulfill your destiny!"
"Destiny?" Robin echoes, ignoring the stinging mark on his cheek. "What destiny?"
Validar sighs, as if disappointed. "That mark on your hand; did you really think it served no purpose? You are of fell blood, Robin; Master Grima's blood. You are to be his host, so that he may return to our world!"
He's not sure why, but something about that thought sends a frisson of fear and anger down his spine. "No!"
That makes his father hesitate. "…What did you say?"
"No!" the prince repeats. "I'm not going to let anyone possess me, god or not! This is my body, and I won't give that away!" Is that selfish? Maybe. Probably. But even so… "You can't make me-!"
"Be silent," Validar commands coolly.
Suddenly, there's a… pressure in his head, and his mouth stops moving of its own accord. He tries to speak, to ask what the hell is going on, but it's like he's lost control of his voice; he can't make a sound no matter how hard he fights.
His father smirks. "Good boy. Now, go to your room."
He turns and makes his way up the stairs, despite silently screaming at himself to stop. He doesn't regain control until his bedroom door is closed behind him, and he crumples to his knees, gasping and trembling. "What… the hell… was that?" he asks quietly.
He doesn't get an answer.
Not that he expected one.
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So. New story. Because my imagination apparently enjoys watching me suffer.
Next chapter skips ahead a year. So, yeah. The next few chapters will probably be shit, but… we'll see.
By the way, if there's any characters you want me to add, feel free to make a request! Like, the paralogue characters are gonna show up, and Aversa will definitely join in eventually, but if there's any other DLC characters you want to see that would logically fit—like, Marth and Roy are not happening, but Priam and maybe Emmeryn will if they're requested enough—then shoot me a comment or PM and let me know. Also, if there's any particular scenes or lines from the game you want to see, let me know; I can't remember every single moment, so you'll have to tell me.
See ya~!
-Bird