Thank you all for the kind reviews! Here is chapter 3!
Chapter 3
The village was called Thralen, and the Risen were amassing in large numbers. Robin stared at his handdrawn map, his teeth grit and the pressure from his clenched jaw going into his skull. The meeting with Chrom and the scouts had made two things obvious: There were too many Risen, and they had to be dealt with today.
Numbers and names whirred through his mind. Kellam-chokepoint here, by the trees-Sumia-scout here, but no, some Risen had bows, so here instead-Chrom…
"Robin?" The tactician jerked his head up, blinking rheumy eyes at the tent entrance. Frederick stood there, and Robin stared for a moment.
The knight no longer wore his trademark blue and silver great knight armor. Now he wore the armor of a gryphon rider, a blue tunic and trousers, with interlocking gold plates of steel across the chest and shoulders. The effect near his hips was almost like slashes of gold, and the new look gave Robin a much closer estimation of Frederick's real body shape, the musculature of the knight's arms, shoulders and thighs apparent.
Robin turned away, face heating. "What is it, Frederick?"
Frederick approached, and the scent of lilac caught Robin's nose. "I brought you some tea to help wake you, but it seems you have been up all night?" If Robin hadn't been utterly exhausted, he would swear that Frederick's tone was reproachful.
"I…I have been up all night," Robin admitted, taking the cup and saucer from Frederick and placing it next to his maps. "I have to be, if we're going to save this village today."
Frederick remained quiet, his dark eyes roving over the map and then Robin himself. Robin shivered under his gaze, and he sipped the tea to hide it. "I worry for the village if our tactician makes an error because he has not slept," Frederick said finally.
The tone was mild, but Robin bristled. "Would you rather I sleep and let you all risk your lives without a plan of attack?"
Frederick frowned and dropped his gaze. "No. I'm sorry." He opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it again. Finally, he added, "Your responsibilities are heavier than most people's."
"It's alright." Robin rubbed his temples, waving away Frederick's look of concern. "Thank you for the tea. I'm sorry for snapping. I'm just…it's been a long night." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I will gladly assist you in any way I can," Frederick said. He blushed as he spoke, and Robin opted not to comment on it but filed away the information in the part of his brain that dealt with strange interpersonal details. "Do you need anything?"
"I need to know that you can fight on your gryphon," Robin said, a flash of inspiration striking him all at once. He turned to the map, adrenalin obliterating his exhaustion. If he had two flyers… "I know you just got him, but if I had you in the air, you and Sumia could hold this line early. Then we wouldn't be overrun before we could maneuver." Robin's eyes shone. "Can you do it?"
Frederick swallowed once before answering. "I will do whatever is required of me. I am a knight of Ylisse."
Robin narrowed his eyes. "Frederick, I know you will do your duty. What I need to know is if you can do this safely. I will not risk your life to win this battle. If you are not prepared to fight on your gryphon-"
"My gryphon's name is Bear. And I am ready to fight," Frederick said flatly, holding Robin's gaze.
Robin nodded. "Very well."
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
A warm breeze blew from the southwest, bringing the dry heat of the Plegian sands. Robin directed his armies first movement, calling out his commands in a clear voice. Frederick and Sumia took off, their mounts wingtip to wingtip, and took up position between the two largest houses in the village, dangerously far from the helping hands of their comrades.
Robin quelled a moment's fear. His plan was in motion. Now it just had to work.
Donnel and Nowi took up position on the east side, and Robin didn't worry about them. The villager had turned out to be a surprisingly capable fighter, and Nowi was a dragon. Kellam took up the west. The air was quiet, still, Robin and the rest of his army huddled in the center.
"I hate the waiting," Gaius said, his voice loud in the quiet courtyard.
Then Robin heard the clang of steel, and Frederick's war cry. The battle had begun.
"Chrom, go support Sumia and Frederick!" He heard the crash of thunder to the west and Kellam's pained yell, and Robin cursed. Plan change already. Hold on, Frederick. "Maribelle, help Kellam!" The troubadour dashed off, dirt flying under her horse's hooves. In the distance, something crashed, and then Nowi's victory roar shook the air.
"Gaius, I need you to make sure that the villagers are keeping safe. Go to house to house. Be careful!" The thief nodded, dashing off and disappearing into the alleys.
Robin followed Chrom, adrenalin pumping in the tactician's veins. Battle was frightening, sometimes deadly, sometimes vomitous, but for him, it was always exhilarating.
He didn't know why he had the skills he did. Knowledge of the perfect positions, updated on the fly, visions and senses of skirmishes he couldn't, shouldn't, be able to see, and always, always, a perfect idea of how to win each battle. Battles sang in his blood.
But the perfect ideas his mind gave him sometimes weren't so perfect. He could see it now in his mind's eye, how to do things most efficiently. How if he just let Sumia take that arrow instead of letting Chrom move ahead, he could have her fly up to the Risen chief, wounded and bleeding, and deliver a blow that would weaken him. She would be struck down, an axe to her chest, but Frederick would deliver the next blow, taking one in return. Then the Risen would scatter, their chief gone. They would take out Kellam on their way, the mages retreating west, but the battle would be won. The enemy would be destroyed.
Don't you want destruction?
Pain flared in his head with the voice, and Robin winced, doubling over. Images flashed through his mind, nonsensical flashes tinted with a red haze.
"Robin!" Chrom's voice brought him back, and he stood up, gritting his teeth against the pain. "We need you!"
"Right!" he responded with a pained wheeze. He had a plan already. It was not the most efficient, but it was the safest. No one would be hurt.
Pain pounded as he ran ahead, and he directed his comrades, ignoring it. The throbbing grew worse as the battle went on, but he had work to do. Rest would come later.
Donnel and Nowi closed in, the east side clear. Kellam, unhurt but with scorched armor, came in from the west, ferried along by Maribelle who seemed continuously surprised that the knight was on her horse.
Ahead, Frederick and Sumia fought bravely. Pride and a strange tenderness filled Robin's chest at the sight of the knight, fighting with near expertise on his new gryphon. A hand axe flashed through the air, taking a Risen across the neck and laying it flat.
The battle was nearly won. Thank the gods.
Robin suppressed a groan at the rising pain in his head, waving an arm to direct Donnel to take out the Risen chief. He leaned against a house, putting his hands to the sides of his head and squeezing. It looked foolish, he knew, but it alleviated the pain, just a little.
When he looked up, it was to a Risen archer, raising his bow. Robin's heart nearly stopped.
Then a flash of brown streaked through the sky, a heavy axe taking the creature's head off. Frederick landed next to him, his expression fierce. He met Robin's eyes. "Can you still fight?"
So his pain was obvious. "I'm not hurt," Robin said. In his mind's eye, he saw Donnel sticking a spear through the chief's gut, and Robin winced again at a renewed flare of pain. "Anyway, the battle is over."
Frederick flew higher and looked over the battlefield, then landed even closer to Robin. His tone softened. "Do you need help?"
"Robin!" The tactician hid a wince at Chrom's loud tone. "Another victory!" The Lord clapped him on the back, Robin giving him a pained grin.
"I got some loot," Gaius said, appearing from out of nowhere. "The village elder gave us a physic staff. And an older man gave us some gold." Apparently he had also given Gaius another lollipop, but Robin didn't comment on it.
"Perhaps it is best we get back to camp, my lord," Frederick said, and Chrom nodded. Robin gave Frederick a grateful look.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
His head pounded, and Robin groaned, shifting on his pallet in the darkness of his tent.
The pain had worsened when he returned to camp, and he had begged off the festivities, unable to stomach even the smell of the stew Stahl had cooked. He had choked down a concoction that Lissa had given him, but pressure hammered in his head and his stomach roiled, the memories of the hazy, nonsensical images he had seen in his mind during the battle making him shaky and sick.
He knew it would pass, probably within a few hours. But until then, gods did it hurt.
"Robin?" In the haze of pain, he couldn't quite place the voice. He didn't respond. Most knew of his headaches, and also knew to leave him be during one. If it was important, like another battle, Chrom would persist, but Robin doubted he would be needed again so soon.
Someone entered his tent, the brief flash of light as the tent flap opened sending a hot spike of pain between his eyes. Robin groaned, turning away. "What?" he managed.
"I am sorry." Frederick. "I…Lissa told me that you're in pain."
"Yeah," was all he could say. Robin couldn't make out much in the dark, but Frederick no longer wore his new armor, clad in the woolens he usually wore when the camp was at ease.
"If you'll let me, I can try to help." Frederick's voice sounded stiff, formal, with an undercurrent of unease. "A brief massage of the scalp can do wonders for tension headaches."
Robin wanted to explain that it wasn't a tension headache, but the pain made it pointless. Whatever Frederick did certainly couldn't make it worse. "Sure," he said through clenched teeth. "Try it."
Frederick settled next to him on the pallet, kneeling on the floor by his head. Cool fingers rested on his temples, moving in small circles.
Robin sighed. He hadn't expected it to work at all, but the knight's mere touch chased away the worst of the pounding pain. Robin focused on Frederick's fingers as they massaged his temples, then moved up into his hair, stroking with a fair amount of pressure. He even ran his fingers over Robin's ears, pulling up on his ears before moving back to massage the tactician's temples.
By the third repetition of maneuvers, Robin's jaw had relaxed. By the fourth, his pained breathing had eased, and by the fifth he opened his eyes, giving Frederick a small smile.
"Robin?" Frederick said, his fingers still performing soothing motions.
"Hmm?"
Frederick looked to the side. "I…I want to apologize to you."
Robin blinked. That was unexpected. "Why?"
"For my behavior when we first met you. My suspicion. I…was too harsh."
Really? He was concerned about that? "It's nothing," Robin said. "You were just doing your duty as a knight."
"Still. I am sorry." Frederick set his mouth in a firm line.
"I accept your apology, I suppose." Robin said. "And thank you. I feel…better." The pain was still there, but Frederick's technique had alleviated the worst.
"Good." Frederick kept up his ministrations, and Robin lay back and enjoyed it now that the worst of the pain was gone. Frederick's fingers were at once powerful and delicate. Much like the man himself, Robin mused.
He opened his eyes, taking in the very close sight of the knight in the dim light that shone through the walls of the darkened tent. His fine brown hair was tousled, and his shoulders flexed slightly as he ran his hands over Robin's scalp. He was kneeling and his thighs were tense, and a flash of heat went through the tactician when he lingered too long.
He flicked his gaze up to Frederick's, and their eyes locked. The knight's breathing came in deep exhalations that were faster than usual, and Robin wondered if giving a massage was truly so arduous or if it was something else.
"I…" Even Frederick's voice sounded breathy. "I will do this for as long as you need," he said finally.
"Thank you," Robin said. It felt wrong, indulgent, but he liked having Frederick here. His touch was wonderful, and his presence itself chased away the memories of the images he had seen. They were just two men, after a battle, getting comfort while they could.
They didn't break their gazes, Frederick's expression searching. Even in the dark, Robin could tell the other man was blushing fiercely.
Robin didn't want to do it, but he had to stop. If he didn't…he didn't know what would happen, but it would probably end with him taking Frederick, pain or not. Or letting Frederick take him. Desire flashed through him at the idea, and images of the other man, naked, hard and trembling with need, replaced any others.
But Frederick…he didn't know what Frederick wanted. It may be that. It may not. Now wasn't the time to make him decide. Whatever had happened with Chrom, however Frederick felt about it, it was too soon for this.
"Alright, Frederick," Robin said, unable to hide the regret from his voice. "That's enough. I…I need to sleep now."
Frederick let out a breath, and stood, ever the obedient knight. "Do you need anything else?" he asked. His voice dripped hope.
"Not at the moment," Robin said. "Just sleep. But thank you. Now I'll be able to."
Frederick didn't say anything for a moment, and Robin wished he could make out the other man's expression better in the dark now that he was standing. "If you need anything, I will be nearby," the knight said finally.
"I'm glad," Robin said, and meant it.
Robin turned to face the tent wall when the knight left. The pain began to flare again, but he found sleep before it became unbearable.
His dreams were full of Frederick.
Not too much left. Please comment and critique! :)
