IV: Perceived

The evening after, she realizes that she hasn't been alone all day. She'd been transferred to the tent adjacent to Sumia and Cordelia's the night before—ostensibly so that the three remaining Pegasus knights may coordinate more closely. Seeing her juniors flourishing amongst the Shepherds so gives her comfort. Even should she fall in battle, they won't be lost.

Sumia has been flitting in and out of her tent all morning. She's less spirited than before the last battle, before Chrom had sequestered himself away, but she seems emboldened. Robin had spoken to her, it seems. She's still not been able to don her armor, nor lace her coat, but Maribelle had assured her that she should need only one or two more healing sessions to restore her to battle-ready conditions.

Frederick knocks at the post outside her tent, asking to discuss the troop movements. His report is perfunctory, like all his work, and he keeps his gaze stolidly at eye-level. She has to tamp down the urge to laugh, recalling how far over his head one of the castle maid's flirtations had flown. Sometimes she wondered if he kept all those pebbles he collected off the path in his skull. When he steps outside, Princess Lissa flutters right past him to enter. Phila stands, tries to apologize, but the girl will have none of it.

"You did everything you could," she says, sinking to her knees beside the older woman. Her eyes are still red, likely have been for days, but there's a steel to her that wasn't there before, "You, Chrom, Robin…you all did everything that was possible. You couldn't have expected that, no one could have."

"Princess Lissa, I don't—"

"But now…I'm not sure," Lissa rubs at her eyes with her wrist, annoyed by an apparent itch, "Chrom's gone. He's sitting in his tent. He eats, he walks, but he's just…not there."

"My lady…" Phila trails off. What can she say? "We're here. Me and Robin and Frederick and all the others. We'll hold this army together as long as it takes."

Lissa shakes her head, "Time is running short. Half of Gangrel's men deserted him. But the longer we tarry, the more our inaction will look like impotence," her brow furrows in a look of determination, "Everyone's waiting. I don't know how long."

The princess sweeps out of the tent in a swirl of skirts. Not two minutes later Cordelia entered, her spear held in two hands and a question on her lips, but by this point Phila understood. When Cordelia leaves, her spear rebalanced and not sighing quite so much, she stands and follows her out, brushing past a startled Sumia and her handful of flowers.

When she reaches Robin's tent she has to take a minute to compose herself, brush her hair form her eyes, adjust her uniform coat where it lies draped across her shoulders—why is she taking such care? She sighs, takes a breath, and steps into the inner sanctum.

"You told them?"

He's hunched over a pile of papers and tomes, quill scratching across the page. At her question, he looks up, golden eyes owlishly wide, "Come again?"

"The Princess, Frederick, Cordelia, Sumia," she drags her fingers through her hair, not even caring how much skin it shows off, "I haven't been alone all day! Did you tell them?"

"Of course not!" his tone was almost offended, "I wouldn't…I'd never," he shakes his head, "Never. Phila, I would never."

She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "Then…what's going on? I've had people in and out of my tent all morning, barely a moment alone."

Robin avoids her gaze, taking a sudden and immense interest in the wood grain of his table, "Well, you are Ylisse's Wing Commander—"

"Wing Commander of a force that barely exists anymore," she rebuts, settling herself on his cot and keeping her eyes trained on him, "By all rights, I should have been outmoded six days ago."

"We still have two Pegasus knights in training," he evades, "Cordelia's got a ways to go, and gods know Sumia needs—"

"Robin," she cuts through his excuses a second time, "The truth. Please."

He sighs, laying his quill down and leaning back in his chair. There's silence for a long moment before he speaks, "I didn't tell anyone. I…I asked Sumia to keep an eye on you, in case something happened. The others were easier. I told Frederick to keep you apprised of the situation. Lissa needed to know we weren't falling apart, Cordelia needed guidance…" He trails off, nail scratching at his table before he looks up at her and gives her a wry grin, "I'm not a tactician for nothing, you know."

She sighs, breath coming in short, unstable puffs, "So you duped each of them into thinking they needed to come to me for their problems?" she couldn't hold down a little laugh, "You really are devious."

A light chuckle bubbles up from him, a contented smile curling his lips, "You make me sound like some kind of villain. I suppose I could still go dark sometime."

She's quiet for a long moment, wrapping her arms around her middle as she tries not to test her newly-mended ribs, "It…terrified me. The thought of them finding out."

"Not me?"

She gives him a sidelong glance before lacing her fingers on her knee. She's quiet for a long moment, "You're different."

He flashes a cocky grin, "Don't have to tell me twice."

She can't help but shake her head, a weary smile curling her lips, "You ass. We were having a moment."

"Apologies, my lady," he bows his head, "I'll do my best to find us another when the war is over."

"I've had it, Robin!" Phila startles at the sound of one of her juniors barging into the tent.

"S-Sumia?!" he stutters to a halt, "What's got into you?"

"I can't wait like this any longer! Oh, sorry Captain," but the younger knight sallies on, "I'm going right on in there, and I'm not leaving until he moves!"

And like that, she's gone.

There's a long moment where they remain frozen, blinking owlishly at the fluttering canvas where Sumia had left before Robin bolts from his chair for one of his drawers, nearly tripping over his coat in his haste.

"Should we go after her?!" Phila asks, still somewhat alarmed.

"Are you kidding me? I'm not missing this for the world. Just need to grab something for the show, come on!" Robin hurries past her, one arm laden with snacks while the other hooks her elbow and jerks her to her feet as they follow, shouting down the row, "Lissa, it's happening! You won't wanna miss this!"