So, madness. I decided to get another chapter up before I head back to work for three days.

I also decided to bite the bullet. I was considering another pairing for Robin, since I just did Robin/Libra - but this was the way they wrote themselves. I was the victim, here.

Additionally, this incident was briefly mentioned in my previous story, To Selfishly Crave A Speck Of Joy, but it will not exactly match up with how this story proceeds. Robin is such a strong character, key points of her personality defined but not so much she's restrictive. I'm really looking forward to experimenting with her, and I hope I do her justice.


"May I have this next dance?" Cordelia ribbed at Robin and Ricken, trotting up as they stepped into the mess tent. Robin grinned back at her, releasing Ricken's arm and giving him a polite curtsey. The boy turned red, gabbled something incoherently and took off, leaving the two girls alone.

"You're looking cheery today," Cordelia commented as they joined the line of Shepherds waiting for their serving. The redhead leaned in a touch closer and lowered her voice. "Did things go better today, with your meeting?"

Despite the twinge of affection that went through her at Cordelia's obvious concern, Robin's face still hurt under her gaze, and she stared hard at her feet. "A bit better. Still ended in a shouting match, but a bit better."

"Yes, we – I heard." Robin winced, glancing at Cordelia.

"Was it that loud?" she ventured, and Cordelia nodded sympathetically.

"'Fraid so," she confirmed, then smiled a tad mischievously. Since The Wedding, an event Robin had attended with great reluctance, she and Cordelia had grown closer, talking for hours in one another's tents and even spending their rare days off together. And while Robin was eternally grateful for the other girl's support, she had learned very quickly that any juicy news made Cordelia grin like a cat full to the whiskers with cream.

"A few people stopped to listen, but -" Cordelia drew out her sentence, and despite herself Robin leaned in curiously "- Libra chased the away in short order," Cordelia finished, and Naga help her, Robin blushed. It was an impressive blush, one that started below her neck, crept up into her face, bloomed in her cheeks and left her crimson to her hairline. It flared up at the slightest provocation and was often more embarrassing than whatever had caused it.

"That was very lucky, then," she mumbled, giving Cordelia a 'let's-drop-this-subject-right-away' kind of stare. As a kind of therapy, Cordelia had taken to match-making Robin with their various male acquaintances in her head and enthusiastically listing the benefits of each to the bemused tactician.

While Robin tolerated it with a degree of exasperated curiousity, Libra was one she hadn't quite made up her mind how she felt about. They got on well, famously even, and his presence over the two years of peace had been a lifesaver, but Robin always felt there was something he was locking up, deep inside him.

Perhaps it was because she didn't want to hear anything else on Cordelia's marital speculations, or because she was honestly pleased she had remembered something of significance, Robin blurted out, "I remembered something else about my past."

This got Cordelia's interest. "Really?" she gasped, as they stepped up to the serving table. "What was it – uh, if you don't mind me asking?" Cordelia asked, selecting a couple of hot bread rolls while they waited for the beef stew to be divvyed up. Robin piled a couple onto a plate and eyed off another.

"I don't mind, actually," she said, smiling a little fondly. "It was just…well, nothing like I've remembered before."

Cordelia eyed her inquiringly, accepting their two bowls of stew with barely a muttered thanks to the chef and setting Robin's in front of her. "What was it? Oh!" Cordelia's eyes widened excitedly. "You have a sibling? No, you remembered where you lived," her face fell for a moment. "Was it something bad?"

Robin giggled and lightly shook her shoulder. "No! Don't look so fretful." Robin once again eyed the bread basket. "I remembered, well…you'll probably think this is funny, after everything, but…I remembered I had a lover."

Her deliberation at an end, Robin snatched up another roll and started off towards her usual table. Chrom already had set aside some for her, so with any luck she'd have enough to take back to her tent. She was due another late night and having a snack would…

Robin realized that Cordelia had not fallen into step with her, and turned back to find the Pegasus knight white-faced and gaping. "Are you feeling unwell?" Robin asked worriedly, setting down her food on the nearest table. Cordelia was a tough girl but she often overworked herself, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd hid her exhaustion well enough that even Robin hadn't noticed.

It was then she became away she was standing in a circle of silence, only the Shepherds at the furthest tables still chatting away.

"Did you say…you had a l-lover?" Cordelia asked uncertainly, her bowl forgotten in her hands and drooping dangerously, the contents threatening to spill into her boots.

Robin was a fine tactician, and with that title came attached a refined sense of foreboding. It had helped her anticipate ambushes, spot flaws in her path-plotting and now, gave her the distinct sense that she had crossed a line.

Perhaps Cordelia had noticed she'd taken more than her fair share of bread? She silently bid Chrom to keep her extra portion out of sight.

"Yes, I did," she confirmed, picking up her food and moving on down to her table, raising her voice slightly. "It was a bit…um, bewildering, I suppose? The memory was all over the place," Robin settled down into her seat and began to tear at her bread, "honestly it was so short I almost wasn't sure what was going on –"

Cordelia's bowl slammed down next to Robin, making her jump and almost upset her stew. "So, it may not have been a lover, then?" The question was eager, hopeful and made Robin furrow her brow.

"Noooo, definitely a lover," she said slowly, then hid a smile behind her hand. "A Robin Enthusiast, hah! Honestly, Cordy, don't make me spell it out, that's a little – "Cordelia's hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around, and Robin's words died on her lips at the distress in her friend's eyes.

"Don't say that so loud!" Cordelia hissed in a tone Robin had never heard before, desperate, apprehensive. She risked a glance about her, and found herself under heavy scrutiny from Frederick and Sully. Cordelia smiled and waved them off, and they turned away nonchalantly. But that growing sense of foreboding lead Robin to suspect they had heard more than they let on.

"Is it possible he was your husband?" Cordelia queried urgently, her voice so low Robin almost couldn't hear her. Robin leaned in; affected by a sense of secrecy she hadn't felt five minutes ago, she suddenly wished she had kept this little nugget of information to herself.

"No, I don't think so," she murmured. "I don't have a ring or anything, I didn't wake up with one. Or any indication I had one." She had inspected her hand, multiple times, as part of her frantic attempt to assert anything about her past. Cordelia began to chew on her lower lip, looking so miserable that Robin tried to lighten the mood. "How do you know it was a man, anyway?"

Wrong thing to say, judging by Cordelia's ragged gasp and expression of total horror. The Pegasus knight reeled back from her, leaving Robin almost consumed by sudden panic. "It was, it was a man," Robin hastened to reassure her. "Heavens, Cordy, what is the matter?"

"Robin, you really don't – "Cordelia licked her lips nervously, and now they had the full attention of every table around them. Ten pairs of eyes burned into the back of Robin's head, and she fervently wished she'd had her dinner sent to her tent.

"Look, not really – that is to say, here in Ylisse we prize…not to say you're not, I'm not saying that at all…"

"I'm…not really sure what you are saying," Robin said helplessly. "Is…is it uncommon in Ylisse, to have a lover and not be married?"

"Ssshhhh!" But the damage was done. Maribelle, of all people to overhear, turned to Robin with wide, stricken eyes.

"Robin, dear, I hope you're not considering what I think you are!" the noble girl barked loudly, and now the whole mess hall wasn't even trying to conceal their interest. At the other end of the tent, Chrom had paused with a spoonful of stew halfway to his open mouth.

"What am I considering?" Robin asked in a brief moment of confusion. "I'm not taking a lover, Maribelle!" The girl sighed in obvious relief. "I was just saying that I remembered I had one."

It was, Robin reflected later, a rare occurrence in such a boisterous army to have total, voluntary silence. Especially in the mess, where after a hard day's marching or training the Shepherds had their first chance to let loose.

"I remembered something, at least," Robin offered lamely. "Is this…I'm getting an indication that this is not an everyday thing, then?"

"What makes you think it would be?" Maribelle cried, turning fully to face her but, Robin noted, a cold hand clenching around her heart, the girl leaned back as though afraid to come too close.

"I-I don't know." Robin's voice was small, and she probably would have said nothing else on the matter had Tharja not piped up unexpectedly.

"It is not that uncommon for Plegians to take partners before matrimony," she said silkily, her hands steepled in front of her. Henry nodded away merrily beside her, apparently totally unaffected by the revelation.

"Yup," he confirmed cheerfully. "We tend to die sooner so we have to make the most of it!" He returned to his dinner with gusto, and Tharja took the opportunity to offer Robin her portion of bread. They appeared to be the only two who were largely unaffected by the revelation, and Robin was beginning to feel like an animal on display.

Robin hated herself, hated them, hated everything for what she was going to say next, but Cordelia, the girl who had been such a strong support for her recently, was starting to feel like a stranger next to her. "Maybe…that's when it happened," she muttered, her throat tightening reflexively. I don't want to say this. "When I was…in Plegia, maybe then…"

She doubted it. Her brief time in the country had been uncomfortable and unfamiliar – if she had spent any significant amount of time there, Robin was sure she would have felt more at home. But Ylisse's milder climate was much more welcoming, and if it hadn't been for her accent and colouring Robin would have happily assumed she was a born and bred Ylissean.

But it seemed to placate her fellow Shepherds, who were gradually settling back into their seats, while Maribelle wittered on. She caught Henry's eye, and then realized she'd actually made eye contact with the mage. He gave her a surprisingly sympathetic smile, and she smile back hesitantly.

Cordelia elbowed her hard in the ribs, and the smile dropped from her face. "Don't look at him like that," Cordelia muttered urgently – there was was no disgust in her voice, only fear. "What if someone saw?"

"I've been allowed to smile at people before," Robin growled, glaring down at her small mountain of bread rolls. This was ridiculous.

She finally tuned into what Maribelle was talking about, namely enumerating the multiple differences between Ylisse, Plegia and for some reason, Ferox, culminating in, "It's really not a surprise, that you wouldn't realize the implications behind your actions." Maribelle gave her a surprisingly kind smile. "Alas, if only you had been educated previously, Robin. You could have avoided this whole sordid business."

"What sordid business?" Robin questioned suspiciously, and was immediately alarmed by the glances exchanged between the tables. There were a lot of Shepherds – Ylissean Shepherds, her mind snarled – who seemed to know what Maribelle was speaking of, so the exchange took a few minutes, which Robin spent getting herself in a spectacular temper.

In the midst of it all, she looked across the room and became entangled in Libra's gaze, the monk sitting a corner with Virion and Gaius. His face wasn't blank or disapproving – it was watchful.

Robin remembered.


"Meeting a lady friend, Libra?" Robin called, beaming cheekily as the passing priest almost jumped out of his skin. She waved at him from her position under a wide walnut tree; the husks still tiny and almost invisible nestled amongst green leaves. With a flask of apple cider open next to her, a book in her lap and her hair tumbling freely over her shoulders, she was the picture of relaxation.

"Come sit, Libra," she urged, and she was mildly put out by the second of hesitation on his normally peaceful features. Finally though, he joined her in the shade, a welcome respite from Ylisstol's summer heat. She marked her page and closed her book, setting it aside for later.

Robin offered Libra her flask, which he accepted readily enough, and she took the time to study her newfound companion. Libra had been joining her for afternoon tea almost every day now, though this was the first time she had seen him anywhere but the chapel or her kitchen.

She was equally interested about the woman he'd been with, whom he had parted ways with at the bridge just before the park where Robin had seat herself – 'she wasn't that pretty,' a small, mean part of her whispered, and she squashed the thought hurriedly. The woman, admittedly, had not been a great beauty, though she was by no means ugly. She had just been very…worn out, was the only way Robin could think of putting it. Like she had seen the very worst humanity had to offer one day, and then had to see it every day since.

"What are you reading?" Libra asked after a few moments' companionable silence.

"A new book I found quite recently," Robin said eagerly, trying to dispel her curiousity. "It's about a boy with a girl's name, who lives in a world where men fight monsters. But after going out into the world he finds that the monsters aren't as horrible as he's been told, and that men are much crueler than he knew. The part that I'm up to, he's met with a woman who fights these monsters for a living, she's had all sorts of horrible things done to her body so she can fight them effectively, but she's so ruthless he's afraid of her and what she'll do to him, and I think it's a really interesting concept, Lissa said she enjoyed the ending and that it came out of no where, so I'm trying to get through the book before I get summoned to the castle to help pick out drapes for the incoming heir's third nursery, or some such – oh, I got off track a bit."

Libra was smiling though, entertained by her exuberance, and Robin couldn't help but notice how serene he looked, stretched out across the grass with the sun lightly dropping patterns across his face.

Libra's – there was no other way to put it, really – beauty had been a common subject between Virion and Robin during their strategy matches; when Virion had related the story of his initial mistake with Libra's gender she had been forced the throw the match and go outside to calm down.

And he was beautiful. Not just in a feminine way, though out of respect for him Robin tried to pay as much attention to his masculine qualities as she could. But he wasn't heavenly, in the way some of the other priests were, totally dedicated to Naga and weirdly untouchable. He wasn't peaceful; Robin could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, the way he carefully avoided physical contact with anyone he didn't know extremely well. Something plagued Libra, and that damnable nosy part of her wanted to find out what is was.

But he had a kindness to him that Robin loved. She saw it in his lessons to the children who hung on his every word, in his tender affection for his flock of followers. On the nights when sleep skirted the edges of her consciousness, she craved a morsel of his gentleness, of his attention and good favour.

"Who was the woman you were walking with?" Robin asked suddenly, and then reddened when his eyes cut to hers. "Sorry, I really could have phrased that a little less accusingly."

Libra just smiled again and hummed a laugh. "She was…is an old acquaintance. I've known her for many years, and she can never truly seem to right herself."

"The poor woman." Robin stared down the street the woman had disappeared down, feeling a twinge of sympathy tighten her chest. "Do you see her often?" Libra sighed, his features darkening for a second.

"Too often, I fear. There are plenty of streets in Ylisstol that would give even an armed man pause, and Yesica walks them daily." There was something in the way he said it that had Robin running down a completely different mental pathway.

"Oh, she is a…lady of the night, so to speak?" she asked carefully.

"Delicately put - quite the politician now, Robin," Libra said, gracing her with a rare, toothy grin.

"I've never been near such a lady, thank you, so quite unlike a politician," Robin said primly, a tremor of mischief in her voice. Libra gave a short bark of laughter and lightly swirled her flask, his eyes bright and green-gold.

"So she comes to you when she needs absolution or guidance?" Robin steered them back to the subject at hand.

"What makes you think it was for that?" Libra asked seriously, and almost tripped over himself when Robin's face turned speculative. "I do not mean it was anything different, I just…wish to know why you automatically assumed it was not…something different."

Robin leaned over to pry her flask from his unresisting fingers, giving it a swish herself and taking a long gulp before replying. "It was not a jab at your masculinity, if that's what you're asking." Kind of, his next look said, and she smiled in what she hoped was a placating fashion. "As far as I'm concerned, you're as manly as Gregor – "

"Heavens, I hope I conduct myself better, at the very least," Libra gasped, clearly alarmed, and Robin wasted a few more minutes rocking back and forth, laughing herself almost to hiccups.

"Much better behaved, no fear," she choked out at last, passing back the flask and rummaging around in her satchel for the orange blossom biscuits she had brought along. "No, I'm not dismissing your manliness or your manly desires – "Libra spluttered in indignation but didn't actually deny anything, which just made Robin grin wider "- I just didn't think you'd do that, take advantage of someone. She sounds like a lady who needs help, not another guy pawing at her, and you give her that safety. I think it's admirable, that you know exactly what a person needs."

Robin located the biscuits, and offered one to Libra. "They're pretty good, I wasn't sure about the recipe at first but they're hard to mess up. And I'm better at cooking for myself than a whole camp!" Libra accepted the offering, nodding his thanks and prompting Robin to continue.

"I'm just sorry she has to slink about like that," Robin murmured. "Like someone's going to start throwing stones. Isn't there somewhere safe for her to go if she can't find you?"

"The streetwalkers and lower born are virtually invisible in Ylisstol," Libra's voice was low and hoarse with sadness. "Girls, women like Yesica have to fight everyday for their existence, with no one to turn to. Some of them have disappeared altogether."

"Not to a better life in the country," Robin said glumly, her appetite rapidly diminishing. "What does the exalt do abo – no, don't answer that. I fancy myself a tactician, I should be able to work it out."

"I have often found that when nobles say they care about the common people, they mean the freshly washed, devoted masses that turn up for parades and appreciate a half day off," Libra rumbled, staring down hard at the grass. "Robin, the squalor I see people living in every day is…heartbreaking. Yesica came to me because the debt collectors are on her heels, and they are certainly not the officials that the exalt employs. They make people disappear. I wish to help, but I am only one man and I fear for her life."

Oh a whim, Robin reached out and grasped his hand, entwining their fingers before her head had a chance to catch up to her actions. Apart from the day she had received The Invitation to The Wedding, when they had shared a tight embrace, she had been careful to respect Libra's personal space. He did not pull away, however, and after a couple of seconds his fingers tightened around hers.

"I could ask Chrom, perhaps he would be willing to reach out, and I could start a…" Robin's voice trailed off – Libra was staring at her as though she had started speaking in tongues. "What did I say this time?"

"Robin, dear…if you were very lucky and the magistrates were in a well mood, you would only be laughed out of court." He shook his head wildly, hair flying about his face. "No, I would never ask you to do that, to endanger your reputation so. For a priest to help the so called 'wicked' is fine, but the respected royal tactician?"

"Why would it be a problem?" Robin urged. "Surely, as subjects, and people in need, they would be – "

"No, Robin." The force of his words stunned her, and she drew back from Libra. For a moment he reached for her, but before she could respond his hand fell away. "You…do not know. Perhaps it is not something you have encountered yet, but…a woman's honour and prospects for marriage are still very critical in Ylisse, especially for the noble families. This has culminated in a love, an obsession with perceived purity and innocence. To be seen assisting women who have cast such things aside, even if they had to do it to survive…They will receive no assistance from those in power. Even if Chrom wished to, the backlash could be devastating and the rumour mill would do the worst of the damage."

Robin went pale at this – as angry as she still was, she couldn't stand the thought of her two friends coming under any sort of fire. "That's…That's…" She went silent for one moment. "That's so unfair! That's cruel, that's unbelievable! What does the – the state of her body have to do with her worth, Libra? That's just – " Robin found she could not talk around the growing lump in her throat, and she pressed her fists to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden blur the world had become.

She felt a hand, calloused by years of axe-wielding, rest gently on her cheek, a thumb caressing away a traitorous tear. "It is unfair, Robin, but –" Robin cracked open her eyes, and saw the tiny smile that tilted Libra's lips. "- it helps, to know that you care so, and can see past such trivial matters."

Libra looked back into the crowd once more, and now Robin was sure he was seeing things she would never truly understand in a lifetime – the invisible people, the underground citizens of Ylisse who suffered in silence and performed small miracles behind closed doors. "I do hope you do not forget that."


"There is no sordid bloody business." The shout even shocked Robin, who hadn't expected it to come out so forcefully. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, and at least she now had their full attention. "I had a past, there was a man there, we shared a bed, and the sky did not rain fire in disapproval!" Robin gathered up her food, somehow managing to maintain her dignity while almost hidden behind her bread and balancing a steaming bowl.

"Robin, it's not that we think it's a terrible thing," Cordelia said hurriedly, though it was apparent even to Robin that this consensus was not shared by the entire mess tent. "It's just very odd, and only, well – "

"Only the worst of the commoners do such things," Robin finished, and she could feel her cheek spasming, feel the weight of their gazes, feeling herself trying to push down the shame at having disappointed her friends with an act she didn't even remember. Cordelia made a noise of protest, but faltered when she saw the burning looking in Robin's eye.

"I have work to do that does not require me sitting here, listening to backwater customs," she snapped. There it was, the comment she could never take back. Robin fled to her tent with as much dignity as she could, leaving behind Maribelle in mid-scold and protests rising in the lips of the people she couldn't face.

Once she arrived, she firmly tied the flap shut, extinguished her lanterns and muffled her screams into her pillow. Whether they were cries of anger or sorrow she could not tell, but it left tear-stains in the fabric all the same.


The plot picks up.