A/N: Wow! I truly did not expect such great feedback for the first chapter. I want to say thanks to all of you who reviewed and put this story on alert and on their favorite list. I was a little afraid that people would not like the approach I took, but I was wrong, so thanks again for letting me know.
This takes place right after chapter 10.
Chapter 2
The downpour was intense, as well as the horrible stench of blood and mud.
Robin would've given anything to have his memories back, to know who he used to be; but he would give more to forget the image in front of him. Corpses of Plegian and Feroxi soldiers were sliding down the slippery gorge. Mortally wounded wyverns screeched in pain alongside their fallen riders. Though, the worse of it were the grieving expressions of the Plegian knights that had barely defended themselves against the rage of the Shepherds and Regna Ferox. The dead woman beneath him looked like that, and it took a lot more strength out of Robin to pull out his sword from her chest than he used in the killing blow. Victory had never looked so disgustingly dreadful.
The tactician didn't understand what happened. The Plegians had every possible advantage they needed to win: numbers, several competent officers, the high ground, and a retreating foe. But they hardy fought back. It looked as if the Shepherds' push had been an overwhelming force of superior training and weapons, which was not true. The enemy that hated them had not been willing to fight.
Once the adrenaline started to fade from his system, Robin remembered the words of General Mustafa: "Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom. But the meaning of your sister's final sacrifice was not lost on me. I suspect many Plegians who heard her final words would say the same. If you lay down your weapons, I vow to protect you as best I can. " The tactician's eyes widened in shock as he realized what had transpired, what he didn't see, and what he failed prevent. He knew Emmeryn's sacrifice must've moved their hearts; she had somehow freed them from their hatred of Ylisse. However, these were soldiers and knights. They were honor bound to fight and die for Plegia and her King. That was the conflict in their eyes – in the dead woman's eyes – that he ignored.
Robin's sword fell on the mud when his hands went straight to his head. There might've been a peaceful resolution to this. That realization made his mind race through the entire battle that just ended. He saw all the missed opportunities he had to end the conflict with the least amount of bloodshed… but he too wanted revenge for what happened to Emmeryn. Like all of his comrades, the death of the kind Exalt had left him bitter and angry. Robin was not a vengeful man by nature, though he did believe in justice. The problem was that Gangrel's head did not seem like enough reparation for her life.
She, however, would not approve of that line of thinking. That's what made Robin feel ashamed of what he had done. He did not care to seek out a peaceful resolution, as she would've condoned, but he had let the same hatred Plegia held for Ylisse into his heart. Emmeryn had been such a great inspiration for him in the short time they had known each other. The thought of disappointing her was unbearable for him.
Due to his amnesia, Robin's understanding of many things was limited. The departed Exalt had made him understand what peace truly was. Such an abstract term was difficult to fully comprehend by just reading about it. However, after conversing with her and understanding what peace meant, Robin had found a more fulfilling purpose in his role as Chrom's tactician. Knowing that he had briefly forgotten that sense of purpose she gave him, and replaced it with something more… base, almost animal…
He took a few steps back, as if fleeing the corpses around him. Not being mindful of his surroundings, Robin lost his balance when he stepped on a wet rock. Two slender hands stopped him from falling backwards. He turned his head to see Tharja holding him. She hid her eyes from him under drenched raven-colored locks. Robin thought there was something odd about her grip on him. It didn't feel like a friend helping a comrade prevent a nasty accident. Her hands on his back felt somewhat possessive.
"Thank you, Tharja," he said hoarsely. She briefly tightened her hold on him before letting go. Robin turned around to face his rescuer; despite the fact that she kept her gaze fixed somewhere else. Her odd behavior puzzled him for moment until he remembered where she was from.
She's Plegian. These were her countrymen. Robin had not considered how she must've felt fighting her own people under the banner of Ylisse and Regna Ferox. "Tharja, I'm…"
"Getting wet," she interjected. "Chrom's moving his forces to one of the nearby forts. He'll probably want to speak to you there."
He couldn't push the subject aside. His conscience wouldn't let him. "Do you hate us?"
She raised her head to look at him. "What?"
"I am unsure as how Chrom convinced you to join us, but your country hates Ylisse." Robin sighed. "I'm wondering if you do as well."
The dark mage looked irritated. "No, I do not hate you. I hate fools who live in the past and cannot acknowledge that things have changed. I also hate kings who are willing to sacrifice their countries just to satisfy their twisted goals."
That's a really good answer. Robin looked for the right words to say to her, but he found none. Thanking her felt inappropriate, although he felt compelled to express some sort of gratitude.
"I remember seeing a rural village near the border when I was a child," Tharja began. "Actually, it was the scorched remains of what had been a village. My mother took me there to learn how to sense the tormented souls who could not… move on."
"What?!" Robin was appalled. He couldn't believe that someone one willingly expose their child to such an environment, and he did not understand why she was telling him this.
Tharja scowled, not appreciating his tone. "Let me finish. Once we were done, I told her how I thought the King should hunt down the brigands who cause all of that destruction. Then, in a very sarcastic way, she explained to me how it was the righteous men and women of the halidom of Ylisse who destroyed an unprotected hamlet filled with only farmers."
Robin looked down. Why is she saying this? Details about Ylisse's more violent past chipped away at his resolve. Even though he knew that Chrom and Shepherds were in the right when it came to the current war, knowing Plegia's reasons made Robin understand them a little. Something Robin couldn't afford, for too much weighted on him, and he couldn't allow too much sympathy for the enemy into his heart. I'm sorry, Emmeryn.
"Before I could say that we should attack Ylisse and make them pay for what they did, my mother told me how Chrom's father - the one responsible – died: alone and hated by everyone, even his own children." Tharja's creepy smirk sent shivers down Robin's spine. "If anyone should've been publicly executed, it was that man. However, the way he died and the way he's remembered by his people is punishment enough. This war is another story."
Her words had eased him a little of some worries. "You're right, Tharja." He smiled. "Have you stayed with us because you believe Gangrel must be stopped?"
"No," she answered. Her amethyst-colored eyes gleamed for a moment. "I have my reason for staying. While I detest King Gangrel, I'm not interested in dethroning him. That's your job."
Robin wondered what her reason was, though he did not pursue the matter. "That it is."
"Robin!" echoed the voice of Princess Lissa. "Khan Basilio's contact is here. We're getting out of here." The tactician grinned when he saw the blonde princess.
She was swinging her staff around to let them know of her location. Robin was relieved to her unharmed and well. He had lost sight of both royal siblings during the battle, which had made him worry since they had both been through a lot of hardships after seeing their older sister die. He nodded at Tharja and silently thanked her for her time as he picked up his sword. Then he sprinted towards Lissa, leaving the dark mage in the rain… alone. To him, his conversation with Tharja had been a nice way to get to know her a little more and to do away with some of his doubts regarding their cause. For a man with the ability to see everything in a battlefield, he had been unable to see what their conversation meant to her.
XXXX
Tharja was furious.
Robin never smiled like that to her. He never ran to meet her. In fact, after nearly two weeks of marching out Plegia, he had failed to notice her. Even during the battle, Tharja had felt invisible to him, even as she protected Robin from soaring wyvern riders with all of her might. It was maddening. But he was quick with a smile to so many others, especially Chrom and Lissa. That always ruined her mood whenever she followed Robin around. It was a strange emotion, one that she never experienced with such intensity.
Jealousy.
One moment she could be the happiest girl in the world, and then she wanted to burn someone to crisp. It wasn't just the women. It was everyone and everything around Robin. She was jealous of Chrom, Lissa and Frederick because he spent so much time with them. She was even jealous of a tree from yesterday because Robin noticed it. The worst part of it all was that it was all inflicted by her. Tharja had made sure he wouldn't see her. She had not been ready to face him yet, but she still had wanted him to somehow acknowledge her… even if it was impossible. Tharja quickly learned just how bittersweet love could be. She had stopped being content with just watching him after one day. She wanted some sort of feedback from him, but could not approach him directly.
It was only been after the battle that she gathered the courage to approach him. If he had not looked so lost, so conflicted about something, she might've not talked to him. While the subject had been unpleasant, she cherished every second of it, just as she loathed the Ylissean princess for cutting it short. Had she not interrupted, Tharja would've stayed with Robin even as the mud threatened to swallow them whole.
Wrapping her cloak even tighter around her body, Tharja willed herself to move on. Being left behind and not seeing him again would be much worse than one moment someone cut short. During her long and lonely trek through the corpse-filled gorge, a scary realization came to her. She had never been outside of Plegia, and there was good reason for it. Dark mages were shunned by everyone outside Plegia's borders. She heard stories of the few who left the safety of King Gangrel's "protection" were forced into banditry. This was going to be radically different setting for her; a world that would view her as a heretic and accuse her of being Grimleal, rather than a scholar of ancient magic.
Yet she kept on walking on Robin's trail. Mostly because the threat such a world possessed was nothing compared to leaving his side. The man was all she could think of, watching him occupied most of her time, and she could not even close her eyes without his image present in her dreams. Her attachment to Plegia, her country and home, was nowhere near her fascination with a man she barely knew or understood.
