A/N: So here's a stupid idea that came to mind. Leon is literally Robin

Why do I keep subjecting Fates characters to Awakening's plot :'D

Fire Emblem: Awakening and Fates (c) Nintendo

"What's that you have there, little brother?"

Leon looked up from the tome he had in his hands. "An interesting situation is what I have, Xander," he replied. "I was taking inventory this morning and happened to notice these two among our supplies." He gestured towards the tome and an oddly shaped sword laying on the table.

Strange. "Where did they come from?"

"I'm not sure. No one recognised them, let alone laid claim to them. I had to do a little research to figure out what they were even called."

"Oh?"

"The sword here..." Leon picked the sword up and handed it to Xander. "It's called a Levin Sword. The tome is called Thoron. It's apparently a thunder tome."

Xander inspected the sword. "Nothing I've seen before."

"Likewise," Leon mused. "I initially thought the tome belonged to Nyx - I mean, who else?"

"But her response was the same as the others?" Xander asked.

"Correct."

"So what do you plan to do with them?"

Leon thought for a moment. "I'm thinking of testing them out on the training grounds. Maybe if they perform well enough, we could simply keep them."

"Yes," Xander agreed, "but who would wield them?"

"Well," Leon started, "both are lightning based. Anyone with an affinity for thunder magic could potentially use them." Maybe another dark knight in their army could use them.

"Do they need to be kept together?"

The younger prince shrugged. "Not necessarily, but from what I've read on them, they seem to work better together. A tactician's best weapons." He gathered the tome and sword in his hands. "First off, it'd be best to see if they're worth keeping around. We'll worry about potential wielders later."

"A sound idea, brother."

An hour later, Leon was casting spells from the tome left and right. If he wasn't wielding Brynhildr, he would certainly take up Thoron for himself. It wasn't as powerful as the divine tome, but he chalked it up to a lack of familiarity with such a weapon. His strengths came from the earth, not in lightning and thunder. That was more of Prince Ryouma's forte, albeit he was a samurai, not a mage. Maybe the Levin Sword would work for him. Setting the tome down and picking up the jaggedly shaped blade, he made a mental note to stop by his tent to ask his opinion of it. Its similarity to Raijinto could be useful to him. At least he hoped.

The ground suddenly rumbled underneath him. "Whoa!" Since when did the Astral Plane have earthquakes? Was Kamui constructing a new building? No, that wouldn't make the ground shake this much. He quickly grabbed hold of the weapon rack to keep himself upright. Hopefully the earthquake would end soon. All he needed to do was ride it out.

Of course, that was better said than done. The shaking intensified, causing the training grounds to begin to split. Long gone was the time to remain calm and stay as steady as possible. Presently was the time to panic. And panic Leon did. A searing pain on the back of his right hand made holding on even more difficult. What the hell!? Was some brand being carved into his skin? What!? What was even going on at this point? Something felt horribly wrong.

A flash of blue crept into his peripheral vision. "Leon!" It was Oboro. "Get out of there! Run!"

He quickly glanced at the ever growing split. Maybe if he hurried, he might be able to jump cleanly over the crack. He had to hurry. But Oboro... "Go! I'll catch up!" he shouted.

"I'm not going anywhere! Not until you're on the other side!" Heh, stubborn as her liege. That was one of the many things that made him fall for her. But now wasn't the time to think about his lover's quirks. He need to get to safety and fast.

Taking the Levin Sword in one hand and scooping up Thoron in the other, he bolted towards Oboro just as the crack widened. Oh damn, come on! He jumped once he reached the edge, but the split kept widening. Come on, I can make it...! His feet landed on the very edge, causing him to lose his balance and topple backwards into the crevasse.

The last thing he saw was Oboro, horrified and crying, reaching out to him in vain.

Grass. Soft grass. It felt so foreign to him. What happened? Why was he laying in grass? Why did it feel foreign? Were those... voices? Where was he?

"Chrom, we have to do something."

"What do you propose we do?"

"I... I don't know!"

He groaned as his eyes fluttered open. So he did hear people talking. Three of them. A heavily plated man, another man with regal blue hair, and a young girl with blonde pigtails. She reminded him of someone. Someone... who?

"Hey there!" she greeted him. Her demeanor seemed familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

The bluenette knelt down beside him. "I see you're awake now." Had he fallen asleep here? With such soft grass like this, it wouldn't surprise him. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," he chuckled, then stood back up, offering his hand. "Give me your hand."

He stared at the man's hand for a second before finally taking it, briefly noting a strange brand on his hand as the man hoisted him up. "Are you alright?" the man asked.

"U-um... y-yes, thank you," he stammered.

"Tell me," the bluenette asked, "what's your name? What brings you here?"

His name? Oh, that's right. His name. "My name is... is... It's..." His brow furrowed in confusion. What was his name? Why couldn't he remember his name?

Furthermore, why couldn't he remember anything?

The man raised an eyebrow, a vague look of concern etched on his face. "...You don't know your own name?"

As much as a strange feeling of pride wanted to deny that, he sheepishly shook his head no. "I'm afraid I don't," he replied, scratching his head. He could tell by glancing up at his bangs that his own hair was blonde. "Not to sound rude or ungracious, but... w-who are you? Where am I?" And why is this knight staring at me with distrust? he wanted to add, but thought better of it.

As if he heard his unspoken question, the knight spoke up. "You've no idea who or where you are?" He scoffed. "A likely story."

"Frederick, please." The bluenette turned his attention back to him. "I apologise for him, the wary one he is."

"A title I shall wear with pride," the man apparently named Frederick spoke. "Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution. I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

"I understand, sir," the amnesiac answered. "I would do no less myself."

The girl elbowed the bluenette. "Chrom, aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

"Oh," the man chuckled, "of course. My name is Chrom. This delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

The girl, Lissa, pouted. "I am NOT delicate! Hmph!" She turned her attention towards the amnesiac. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes."

He smiled, "No worries, Lissa."

Chrom continued, "And this is my lieutenant, Frederick." Frederick gave him a curt nod. "We're members of the Shepherds."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "The Shepherds?"

"A militia to help protect Ylisse," Frederick responded.

"Ylisse... is that where I am?"

Lissa hummed and nodded. Her behaviour... no, everything about her. A face was brought to mind. A name he couldn't place. He could vaguely make out the words 'big brother'. In turn, more faces and objects appeared to him. An older man, blonde, giving him helpful advice. Brother. Purple tresses on a tall, imposing woman, a wyvern faithfully by her side. Sister. An archer, a long silver ponytail, a divine bow - no, yumi, it was called. Friend. A woman about his own age, regal blue locks, trusty lance at her side.

He felt something then. An odd, fluttering feeling. She was saying something. She was saying his name, but all that came out was silence. His name was lost on her lips, but the words that followed were not.

"I love you."

Lover.

Chrom's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, I... I guess I'm still trying to remember my name."

"It's understandable," Chrom said. "You're suffering from amnesia, by the looks of it."

"Yeah," Lissa spoke up. "I heard about it. Things might start coming back to you, but it'll take some time. It's best not to force yourself to remember."

He supposed she was right. He shouldn't cause himself unnecessary stress by trying to force his lost memories to return. It was best to let them come back on their own. Although... "It would be nice if I could at least remember my name."

"Well, why not come up with one?" she suggested. "You can create a new name to use until you remember your real name!"

"That's not a bad idea," her brother spoke. Frederick remained silent, but it seemed that he agreed.

He thought it over for a moment. It seemed logical, he supposed. He needed a name to identify himself with, even if it was only temporary.

Lissa looked quite curious. "What are you going to name yourself?"

There were a number of possible names he could use. "I think I'll go with..." He went with the first name that came to mind. "Robin."

Chrom smiled. "Robin it is, then."

Yes. Robin would do until he could remember what his real name was. It sounded nice. Hell, it might be his real name. No, whatever name that blue-haired woman mouthed didn't match, but he still couldn't figure it out. He decided he would deal with it later. For now, as he awaits his memories to return, he would be Robin.

"Oh!" Lissa exclaimed, bending to pick something up from the ground. "Are these yours, Robin?"

Huh? Robin gazed over to her, glancing at the tomes in her hands. "I guess they are. I don't really remember."

"That is a Thoron tome, if my memory serves me correctly," Frederick spoke. "And- ah!" He bent down and retrieved a sword from the grassy plains. "A Levin Sword."

"You must be a tactician," Chrom added, a small smirk played on his lips.

"That I must be," Robin mused. "But this tome..."

"That purple one?" Lissa asked. "I've never seen it before."

Frederick eyed the odd tome suspiciously. "I don't recognise it either."

Robin inspected the tome carefully. He could almost feel a connection with it, as if it was much more than a simple tome. It was as if the gods forged it themselves and it was bestowed upon him. It came to him. He was chosen to wield this sacred tome. "Brynhildr," the word breathily released.

The trio were shocked. "Brynhildr?" Chrom looked somewhat confused.

"That's the name of this tome," Robin answered. "I don't know how I know it, I just... do. I also feel like... I have this sort of special... I dunno, bond with it?"

"Maybe you used it before and holding it again is jogging your memories!" Lissa bounced. Such optimism. She really did remind him of... her. Whoever that mystery girl was.

"Maybe so."

Frederick cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt, but we should be going, milord."

"Ah, right." Chrom appeared sheepish. "Well, Robin, would you like to come with us? Hopefully when we reach the next town, we can have a healer look at you."

This was unexpected. But then again, he did have amnesia. He nodded, "Thank you, Chrom."

"Lead the way, Frederick."

As the group left for the town, Robin couldn't get his mind off of the familiar, yet unfamiliar faces his memory decided to pull up. Who were these people? Were they family? They seemed to be. But he swore to himself that he would regain his lost memories and get to the bottom of his presence in Ylisse.

Glancing again at the back of his hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that this odd mark meant that something was wrong.