'Ah, Milord…are you alright?'

'Boy, you're looking pale there. You seen a healer?'

Chrom had struggled to find his footing after he had left the healer's tent and Robin behind. His legs felt weak and it was with difficulty that he found Frederick though the knight stood out even amongst a sea of armoured troops. That Frederick was talking to Basilio: a mountain of a man who was loud as a howling bear only aided him.

Chrom wiped his sticky forehead and silently cursed the hot climate with its unforgiving sun. Few in their number had any resilience to Plegian weather, with only Robin looking comfortable and unbothered. 'I'm fine.' He responds to their concern, knowing that it is a lie but not because of the temperature or the sunburn he may or may not have.

Frederick frowns and Basilio's single eye stays on him with a sharp gaze. The Khan could laugh like a fool but he was a competent man and Chrom's been told on a number of occasions that he had an honest face. 'Were you needing something, Milord?' His knight finally asks.

Chrom shifts and tries to think about anything but Robin pulling away from him. 'Robin is injured and has…sent me ahead. Are we on task?'

They had been travelling for so long, with so many battles that their men were pretty independent when it came to returning to camp. There were a few times when neither Robin or Chrom were able to be there, usually due to injury. Frederick was self-sufficient and easily went about the command's business without them. Robin knew that. Robin -

'What remains of our number is accounted for, Milord.' Frederick answers steadily. Camp activity is on track and we should be on schedule to match tomorrow.'

'Ah.' Right, Lissa had mentioned about telling Frederick about their change of plans though "plans" was perhaps a strong rude, better was a an assumption based around his lack of foresight. 'I haven't asked but it will be alright for us to join you in Ferox to heal before marching to Ylisstol?'

Basilio snorts and claps Chrom on the shoulder with far too much strength. He has to steady himself against Frederick and ignores his knight's worried expression as he keeps himself standing tall while trying not to give into exhaustion. 'Boy, I went to war with you and that tactician of yours. You're welcome with us. Flavia wouldn't object to that, you and yours are her champions, after all.' He stated with a cheshire cat grin that reminded Chrom strangely of his sister when she was planning something wicked.

Chrom swallowed and chose the better part of valour and nodded. 'Thank you.' He says with a swell of gratitude and relief soothing the tension in his chest.

'Speaking of tacticians, Milord.' Frederick broached the subject, easing into the conversation again from the practice of years of shadowing Chrom. 'What is wrong with Robin?'

'Lissa didn't mention it?' Chrom asked tiredly but the man shook his head. Lissa had been busy, probably rushing from Frederick to the medical tent to meet them there. 'I don't really know where to start…' He admits, not truly wanting to talk about it. Robin had been hurt before, guarding Emm and through a number of skirmishes and everytime it was like someone had run Chrom through.

'Is it serious?' Basilio's expression flattens, brows knitting tightly as he gazed at him.

'…yes.' Chrom replies. Basilio hadn't been up with Chrom and had instead been positioned with Flavia in their centre to act as a bridge to between the frontline and their rear. The Khans' had been surprised when Robin had briefed them though when it was explained, Chrom thought that they had secretly been quite flattered with the trust they had been given. It also meant like Frederick, who hadn't been fighting, that they hadn't seen what had happened either. 'Robin took a Curse for me. Tharja - a new volunteer - is looking into it but for now, he is unable to lie.'

Frederick's eyebrow shot up and Basilio's jaw loosened in shock. 'That is…Robin is in good spirits?' His knight asks because though they had started off on rocky grounds, Frederick had generally gotten a grasp on who Robin is.

Chrom grimaces. 'He's also fractured his leg. Lissa said he needs six weeks but I'm…not sure how we'll…He had other injuries but…he asked me to leave.' And that still hurts. Chrom hadn't always done right by Robin; wasn't always there like a friend should because things got in the way but they were close...

Frederick's lips are tight. They all know how bad a fracture is; that it happened while they were so far from home exasperated the issue. They had no way to successfully handle the injury other than bind it which was largely unsuccessful. 'Does Robin have any way to aid him in travelling to Ferox?'

'By air. Would you mind sorting that out with one of our men?' Chrom knew they had few. Emm's Pegasus Knights were annihilated at the same time Emm - well. When she fell. Ylisse were known for their air troops but now they had not even a handful.

Frederick breathes a long, tired exhale. His version of a sigh. 'I have already sent Sumia to Ylisstol with news but I will ask.'

Chrom blinks. 'Sumia?' He parrots.

Frederick nods. 'Yes, she has grown quite a bit through this campaign and I felt comfortable letting her go. Her position in the Court would also make her a better advocate than Cordelia.'

Cordelia was a Pegasus Knight that Chrom knew quite distantly. He was sympathetic to her for the loss of her sisters but their deaths were sort of…buried under the rest of the tragedy that seemed to have been heaped their way but he and Robin had welcomed her; Robin most of all, was thankful for the boost in mobility and skill. Some were not so…happy for her presence.

She was seen as - unlucky. With what had happened, as Cordelia the only survivor of her squad. Robin had scoffed and was at his most sarcastic - his nastiest, when he heard that rubbish. They had had a discussion one night while Robin tried the tricky job of positioning her that would cause the least amount of difficulty, that Robin thought how she was still with them was a credit to her. He liked that she had the courage to live and keep fighting.

Robin's respect fed his own though he knew without that, that Cordelia was stronger than Sumia who hadn't been with the Pegasus Knights long before she had joined the Shepherds without completing her training.

Still, Frederick had entrusted Sumia with the task and Chrom understood that she had grown into her wings. He had faith in her, the choice was just unusual. While the Council would probably sneer down at Cordelia, Sumia's friendly albeit timid nature would make delivering the message just as difficult.

'Will Sumia double back to us?' Chrom asks, he had lost a number of soldiers but none of his Shepherds and it unsettled him that one was so far and on her own.

Frederick nods. 'Yes, Milord. She should arrive in time for when we, ourselves leave Ferox. Assuming, of course, that we shall only be there a week.'

'With the Khans permission, I'll have to speak with Robin about it.' It was a difficult needed to get back to Ylisstol as quickly as possible to reassure the people and put the Court back into place and check on who they had placed as regent in Chrom's absence however with Robin's injury…taking time to allow it to heal would be best. The man himself had promised to try and take care of it but it wouldn't be a priority to him. He never was, to himself at least, so someone had to.

Frederick inclined his head. 'Very well, Milord.'

'Hey, hey. What's with this heavy atmosphere?' Flavia called as she strolled up to them, as strong and untouched by the battle as her fellow khan. A Feroxian soldier trails behind her but Chrom only spares a moment to glance at the man. His concentration had never felt so pulled apart before with his thoughts back in that medic tent.

'Travel plans.' Chrom replies as she comes to a stop at Basilio's shoulder.

'Chrom here wants to take us home.' Basilio tells her as she blinks for a second.

Flavia shrugs. 'Your route means little to me and you're welcome to rest at Ferox but I would have thought you would want to get back as quickly as possible.' She states as she shifts carefully.

'Robin's idea.'

Flavia smiles, snorting with amusement. 'Robin, eh? A fine tactician. You better hold onto that one, Chrom.' She smirks, stabbing him in the chest with her forefinger. 'Speaking of which, were is he? I'd expect him to be keeping on an eye on you.'

Chrom feels himself flush in discomfort. After Emm - after, he and Robin had been seldom apart. The reasons that kept them together were far reaching but even without their joint responsibility or their lack in faith in their ability to take care of themselves. Chrom would still want to be beside him, though.

'It seems he has been injured.' Frederick responds when Chrom lags, perhaps more tired than he realised. Or just plain distracted.

Flavia tilts her head, surprise briefly taking over her expression. Chrom knows why. Robin always seems sensible and although he is reliable in battle (he'd do anything to protect his allies) he's a menace, jumping into peril, taking ridiculous risks and pulling absolutely deranged stunts for strategy. Though not all serious, Robin had taken on quite a few injuries.

(Chrom's heart has had quite the exercise.)

'Serious?' Which is always the question. Chrom's head feels twice as heavy as he nods his confirmation. 'Huh. Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be with him?'

Chrom's mouth is dry from the heat and it feels like he's been eating send with the grit in his teeth and the numbness of his tongue. 'He -' he clears his throat. 'Robin sent me to…check on things.'

'Well, you checked on them.' Flavia says as she crossing her arms over her chest plate. It was a gesture to similar to what Chrom would see from Lissa only it bared no resemblance to a girl who favoured pigtails, that had not yet reached her majority. The stubbornness, on the other hand, was comparable. 'Everything's still standing so, go back. It looks like a strong breeze could knock you over anyway, you're not needed here.'

Chrom hesitates even if he's mentally already half why back to the medic's tent. 'Robin said he wanted me to leave.' He's said this more than once now and ever time it hurts. All this time, through war, conflict, loss…not his longest relationship but his closest. His dearest. So, maybe it was an overreaction, maybe he was being sensitive…

Basilio scoffs loudly. 'Get movin', boy.' He demands, making shooing motions with his hands. 'We're capable of going on without you.'

Flavia slaps Chrom slaps him on the back right on the sunburn over his shoulders. He clenches his jaw to avoid embarrassing himself any further. 'Master Tactician, your birdie is, but he's smitten so don't worry the small things.'

Smitten?

'I shall handle the speech for the men, if you allow, Milord.' Frederick volunteers with his typical smile on his lips that truly booked no choice for arguments.

Chrom huffs but with a nod he turns back. He was a bit far from the medic's tent or at least not close enough to avoid thought so by the time he was pushing back the tent flap, Chrom was nervous and wondering how much of a mouthful Robin was going to give him.

'Prince Chrom.' Stahl greets, standing uneasily from where he had been sat beside Robin's cot. His knight doesn't sound surprised to see him and smiles as he nears.

'Stahl.' Chrom returns only stop short as he glances to Robin expecting to see unimpressed eyes, not a man deep in sleep. Chrom double takes and inches to sit on the edge of the cot, careful not to disturb Robin whose head was resting on a couple of pillows, arm limply resting across his bandaged torso, a blanket crumbled by his waist with his injured leg free and now properly supported.

Chrom listens to Robin's breathing, deep and exhausted. The rise and fall of his chest is almost hypnotic as Chrom pulls off the glove to his dominate hand to reach out and lightly brush a few longer strands off of Robin's face. His fingers smooth down Robin's warm cheek, wondering for a moment.

'Lady Maribelle decided to put him to sleep to keep him relaxed for when they braced his leg.' Stahl says quietly, attentively trying not to interrupt or disturb.

Chrom nods slow, watching Robin for a minute longer before looking up to his knight's serene but pale face. 'My sister and Maribelle?'

'They left me to watch him once they were finished.' Stahl replies, eyes directing themselves to the other half of the tent where they had probably gone to help Libra. 'Princess Lissa said she would return later with something for the pain when Robin's due to wake up.'

Chrom sighs. Their supplies were limited with Robin handling their meagre finances. The Court was tightfisted and difficult when it came to sending them money or resources and Robin had taken over from Chrom in fighting with them about it. (Their heads had gotten too big and Chrom knew he would have to do something about it). It meant though, carefully using their supplies. Pain medicines were always in demand and diminishing which meant that their healer's could only really give them out if the need was pressing.

It said a lot about the level of Robin's torment. Chrom's stomach tightened, Robin's tanned skin was an ill pallor like a washed-out painting and even lax in sleep, there was a tightness about his eyes that spoke volumes.

'Milord?' Stahl inquires softly.

'Sorry.' Chrom breaths. Stahl seemed tired too, still in his armour, dirty from battle, fatigued and still here like he had said he would be. 'I can take over now, Stahl. Go get washed up and grab something to eat. They should start cooking soon.'

Stahl's expression eases somewhat. 'Thank you, Prince Chrom. Should I return tomorrow?'

Chrom's immediate response would be "no, that's alright" but after a moment, he agrees. Robin needed someone to keep an eye on him if he was trying to have some space from Chrom. Besides, an attendant would probably be appropriate if things worked out though hope was but a seedling in his heart.

'Alright, Milord. I'll see you in the morn.' Stahl says as he takes his leave with every step heavier than the last.

Chrom slumps, hand ruffling through his hair. He needed to pay more attention, he couldn't hurt allies through his neglect. The men and women who had stood by him and had come all this way with him deserved better than that. Making peace would show his thanks, appreciation would have to come through trying his best to rule to prove that all of this was worth it.

'I guess it would defeat the purpose if I were to ask you to help me with that.' Chrom snorts, resting his cheek onto his gloved hand as he gazes at Robin's sleeping face. A smile presses against his lips for a minute even if guilt weighs on his shoulders. 'Though you did promise me…to help me be better.'

Robin had promised a lot and there was never a time when he had gone back on his word but the war was done now, and with Robin already having gifted so much, Chrom was concerned that Robin would leave maybe to try a connection to his past. That Robin had so much to offer just made Chrom want to cling tighter.

Chrom's hand finds its way back to Robin's hair.

Robin had impressed him and then inspired him and after all that, rallied him when Chrom was at his absolute lowest. It was not an exaggeration that if not for Robin and his willingness to support Chrom then the course of the war would have turned out very differently. But Robin could have none of his tactical genius, none of that intellect and Chrom would still be desperate to have Robin stay. Stay with him.

Chrom huffs, mesmerised with the feel of Robin's hair. 'What're you doing to me?'

'I think that would be obvious.' A voice declares so suddenly that Chrom's surprised his heart doesn't jump out of his throat. Tharja saunters through the tent flap, arms full with books that she discards carelessly on the floor. Her eyes - dark as night and just as ominous - stare at him like she's looking through him.

'Ah…Tharja, have you found something?' Chrom asks as he ignores her abrupt entrance.

Tharja shrugs her cloaked shoulders, the material doesn't so much as bunch as the ends dance around her ankles. 'I've looked through some counter-curses but they all involve a sacrifice.' She responses. 'I thought I should ask before I waste my time reading through Theban: will I be welcome in Ylisse?'

'What -?'

'I'm not stupid. You've just won a war against Plegia; spirits will be high but I don't suspect tolerance between neighbours to improve. This is going to take time, resources and you'll owe be a favour but I'm not about to risk my neck -'

'Tharja, you agreed to stand at my back.' Chrom insists with a tight throat. One day this wouldn't matter. This shouldn't have ever gotten to this point - 'I wouldn't have done that if I wasn't prepared to stand at yours.'

Tharja stares at him for a moment longer before she scoffs. 'What a naive prince.' She sneers but he's heard it all before from people he cared a lot more about and wasn't about to let that sting. 'How he puts up with you…' She shakes her head, her long hair whipping about her shoulders.

'He?' Chrom asks with a tilted head.

'Robin.' Tharja crosses her arms over her chest with narrowed eyes. 'I'm surprised he allows such foolishness.'

Chrom swallows uneasily. Robin had warned him before. 'I bear no grudge against Plegians. Emm's always wanted peace and although I don't always think it's possible, that doesn't mean I don't want it too.'

'Oh? Strong words, Princeling.' Tharja steps forward, anklets clinking as she moves. 'Tell me, Robin seems like a good, useful tactician now but when he is not so needed what will you say if his Plegian colourings offend someone? What if he responds to his mother tongue? What will you do, Scion of Naga, eindama tabdu al'asdiqa' mithl al'aeda?'

Learning Plegian used to be common practice for diplomats (and few others) before the war - before conflict - got in the way of communicating. Knowing how to speak to one another was no longer seemed too important but Chrom had begun his lessons and remembered enough from his father's prisoners, to understand the word for "enemies" even though there had been many spat in angry, hate, fear.

'I expect Robin to offend people.' Because Robins smart, brilliant and more importantly: he was sarcastic. Chrom was almost looking forward to it. 'I'm pretty sure if you're willing to come with us to Ylisstol that you'll try. I don't care. I can't make you believe me if you don't want to trust me. I honestly don't know whats made you follow us this far but if nothing else, Robin is…a treasure. He could be sent to us from Grima himself and as long as he stayed with me I wouldn't care.'

Tharja's shoulders tense. 'You speak of the Fell Dragon easily, I'm not sure if that's ignorance or arrogance.'

'Will you stick around to find out?' Chrom asks lightly.

Tharja's heavy bangs hang lowly to cover her eyes as she ducks her head. 'You better be prepared to face the consequences of wanting to keep so many Plegian's around you.'

Chrom smiles. 'I doubt I'll regret it.'

Tharja clicks her tongue as she turns to leave without a goodbye or her books. 'Yeah? I wouldn't speak so soon if I were you, Princeling.'

'Tharja.' Chrom calls as she pushes the tent flap out of the way. 'For your support and your help…Shokran Gidan.'

Tharja's face morphs into surprise just in time for the tent flap to close in front of her. Chrom just hopes he had said that right. Tharja didn't seem to have much of a sense of humour and although she was new, he had already heard reports that she was quite revengeful, threatening to curse people, without a hint of patience.

Chrom settles down again into the hushed noises of the evening, the heat and his own exhaustion. The following day, Chrom is just as tired and sore as he aided the effort to pack. Once they were ready to march and the Khans' with Frederick's help was preparing to leave, he joined Robin who he had left with Stahl early in the morning. His tactician was accompanied by by two others: Sully and Maribelle who was most likely supervising the injury while already mounted and waiting.

'Robin.' Chrom smiles to his friend who is leant up again a rather large rock, completely off of his left side.

'Chrom.' Robin returns. 'Did you get any sleep last night?'

Sully snorts in amusement. 'Yeah, Captain, looking a bit unsteady there.'

Chrom sighs but refuses to rise to her. 'I got some.' He replies. 'Do you know what Frederick's sorted for your ride to Ferox?'

Robin was just in the process of raising his shoulders which were absent from his robes, probably packed away with his other belongings since it was ripped when Chrom was pounced on from behind. 'He can't answer you but I can!' Was said by who could only be Nowi into his ear.

Robin's eyes are suddenly very wide as he stares at her. 'You can't mean -'

'Freddy said that Robin had got a really bad owie! Cordelia wanted to but you wouldn't be able to properly mount her pegasus and she realised you can't ride sidesaddle cuz it's not safe.' Nowi says as she manoeuvres herself to his shoulders just to slide down Chrom's front. 'So you can ride with me instead! I promise not to drop you!'

'Drat.' Robin curses, tugging at his hair as he looks up to the sky as if asking Naga herself why his luck was awful.

'Wait.' Chrom holds up his hands as he mentally repeats what Nowi just said. 'Do you mean…'

'I'll transform into a dragon and carry Robin there.' Nowi states for him.

Chrom stops himself from cringing. Nowi - even without transforming - could be quite unpredictable but he was never entirely sure how much control she had over herself when she was in her dragon form. 'Can - can your arms carry him?'

Nowi nods firmly as she pumps when of her slender, child-shaped arms. 'Un! I'm super strong!' She reassures before her bright eyes take on a firmer edge. 'Robin's safe with me. I can do it.'

Chrom…doesn't know what to say to that. He glances to Robin, silently asking what he wants to do but there is a decidedly resigned look about the tactician now as he blows his hair from his face. '…Alright, I'm in your care.' Robin agrees though Chrom can see his uncertainty.

'You won't regret it!' She exclaims as she pulls her Dragonstone from inside her cloak.

Robin glances at Chrom. 'I'll…see you there.'

Chrom nods and squeezes Robin's shoulder. 'Don't get lost.' He jokes finally while sending a silent prayer that this ends alright.

Con/Textual Vomit: "Eindama tabdu al'asdiqa' mithl al'aeda?" is meant to mean 'when you see friends as enemies.'

"Shokran Gidan" is 'thanks a lot'

I...think. If I'm wrong then let me know. Google has burned me before. By the way since I'm using a language for a fake one I figured it wouldn't matter if I mixed and matched a bit so the chances of me sticking purely to Arabic is really small...and not that important since it's not going to be playing a huge part in the story.

Originally Uploaded: 13/ 07/ 17

OZ