The end of the war heralded a period of peace among the people of Ylisse. Plegia spent its resources rebuilding and was busy setting up the next king to pursue further conflict. Their ties to Ragna Ferox's Khans assured them of a stable alliance.
Naturally, this meant that the Ylisse's own nobles had the opportunity to find the time to engage in their own past time, which tackled significantly less important matters.
They are wary of her at first. She is an unknown factor, one of the new Shepherds that have arrived at Ylisstol since the war and was one of the few who have stayed.
She would normally pass beneath their notice; the number of Chrom's Shepherds has swelled during the war, and with all of them underfoot it was difficult to tell one from another. She, however, is a constant at Chrom's side, nearly insignificant until someone makes to ask and the prince absentmindedly introduced her as his tactician.
They doubt that she is what is said to be: their image of his famed tactician, her brilliance and prodigious ability does not match with what they see. She attempts to correct them, but to idle minds, speculation and opinions matter more than the truth, and it she throws her hands up in defeat since truly, it wasn't worth arguing the point.
It is obvious that she had Prince Chrom's ear, and any of their attempts to curry her favor always ended in airs of success only to realize, later on, that they had never acquired her interest in the first place. She wasn't easily bought by flattery or through bribery, and her attempts to show her worth in state matters - each day their prince adds more to her responsibilities in a show of trust - merely fan the flames of continued political machinations and significantly higher levels of vitriol.
They say terrible things about her now. She is an amnesiac without pedigree, plain in her appearance, and was the prince's get on the side. She had ties to Plegia, and that was why she had Tharja stalk her everywhere. It's talk that Robin can handle, simply because it is something she does not care for. She pays it little mind until she hears Lissa arguing with one such lady who had spoken too loudly. Afterward, Frederick sets her aside and instructs her with what she needs; information, education in court affairs that she lacks.
Frederick is almost sweet, like that. She understands why he's wary of her, though that wanes the more they spend time together. But she is grateful to him, as despite that, they are still working together for the sake of House Ylisse, and it is through his instruction that she begins to add to her responsibilities; more etiquette through Frederick, more of Ylisse's history courtesy and noblisse oblige from Maribelle, and borrows Sumia's thematic novels for inspiration.
The latter isn't very engaging, but fiction is informative in its own way. Sumia is overjoyed by Robin's interest and is helpful in providing her in books. When Cordelia hears of Robin's sudden search for fiction through Sumia, she adds to Robin's growing pile of references with what could only be termed self-help books.
This makes her a little more efficient in what she does. Naturally, as difficulty never took account of people's efforts and people are never always satisfied, one concern is becomes prevalent among Chrom's court. The idea grows momentum until such time that Chrom often found her after particularly trying meetings with them.
He looks harangued when he drops across her table gracelessly. There is that troubled look on his face when she glances up from her ledgers – today she is accounting for their expenses and it isn't particularly interesting. It is of importance, but she can afford the distraction. Sometimes, it is more important to talk to the people than shut herself off with facts.
It was too early, they both agreed, to marry. Chrom wishes to marry for love, and Robin would have nothing less for him. But as it was, his peers speak of nothing but succession. The Lady Emmeryn had been Exalt since she had been young; unnecessarily so, but she was loved, and her presence was accounted for, was expected. While she had not shown any particular inclination toward romance, there had been, Robin had confirmed through chatting up the help, enough suitors she would be able to pick from.
People had plans for Emmeryn, and now that those were cut short, they were looking toward Chrom. In case, they had said, and Lissa did not seem, to them, like a viable option.
Robin and Chrom agree, for a completely different reason. It is not because she was unsuited as a princess; no, Lissa could rally people to her cause through loyalty and friendship alone because her heart was in the right place. Neither of them wish for Lissa to become Chrom's replacement in case, not when it would expose her to foibles that could be avoided.
"I never knew how much sis had sheltered me." Chrom says with a touch of irritation, when one such discussion encroached the evening. It was summer, and the heat has seemed to have gone to people's heads. "It's as if they're parading their daughters around me."
"They were," she agrees with a faint touch of amusement, because it had taken this long for Chrom to notice. It was a common spectacle now, and many of the noblest of families had started to whip out previously-unknown daughters for him to choose from. "Though I think one of them was newly-widowed and waiting for you to notice."
Chrom paused and didn't seem like he was able to comprehend it. "She's old enough to be my mother!" He at least knew of whom she spoke of.
"She is. She has a daughter too, one who's near my age."
"Gods!" Chrom threw his hands up and continued to pace. Falchion, thankfully, was resting on her desk and her walls were unlikely to crumble when Chrom was in this mood.
She watches this for a moment longer before standing. She pours them some of the cooled wine someone brought them some time ago. It's still chill to her touch. She offers him the stem of one glass and holds the other. Their hands brush when he takes it, his hand poignantly warm in contrast and she retreats as he mulls over the liquid.
"So… Is there anyone that you fancy?"
He eyes her and lowers his glass, an abortive move. "Aren't you supposed to wait until I'm properly imbibed before asking questions like that?"
"I thought I ought to prompt you anyway, out of concern for your welfare." She sniffed, adopting a tone she had heard all too often during Chrom's Parade of Potential Paramours. At this point, Lissa had even begun nicknaming them.
"Thank you, mother."
"I suppose if you prefer her company, I can send a missive for that lady to come visit you. She seemed willing enough. What was her name again-?"
"Robin, no!"
They laugh over it and it lightens the conversation but when he speaks again, there's a pink tinge to his cheeks and he looks sheepish.
After a moment, he decides to answer her question. "No… not at all." He sounds even confused about it, because Chrom was a natural at overlooking romances. Robin hadn't even needed to look that far for examples. She hadn't even stayed that long in the Shepherds before she realized that the best of friends Sumia and Cordelia were helplessly head-over-heels over Chrom. Everyone knew about it, that is, everyone but Chrom.
He looks at her and tilts his head, leaning forward a little to give her his whole attention. "What about you?"
They were only the handful of unmarried people left in the Shepherds. Fighting together, protecting one another, living together forged bonds among people. After being exposed to such life threatening situations, the urge to live to the fullest was strong, and relationships – it was no surprise that marriage would be an option.
There were five weddings already set for the rest of the year. Already it seemed like it was a trend, a happy epidemic. It seemed that neither she nor Chrom had yet to catch it.
"I never thought about it," she admits. "There was Maribelle's kidnapping, the Risen… the war…" and Emmeryn. She shook her head. "And I've been swamped with work here." Romance had never been a priority, but she wasn't against the idea.
Her priority has been to House Ylisse, to Chrom and his family that had rescued her. Between them, they share a rueful smile.
His smile was gentle, with a tinge of weariness to it, but with a sense of kinship as he spoke. "We're such a pair."
They know that their time – his time was running out. As the next Exalt, his freedom is limited; he is no longer his own man. He faces this reality now, at this moment, looking at their weary situation. So instead of dodging the issue as he would rather do, he drains his glass in one go.
"Please, Robin."
After that was a flurry of activity. Word had gotten out that Chrom was genuinely considering each of his Parade of Potential Paramours (well, most of them, anyway), and their efforts increased a hundredfold. Their work is cut out for them, and Robin begins with a list.
Naturally, she decided to approach Maribelle and brought Lissa along. It was easier to get their opinion when Lissa was so eager to talk about each woman as a little sister is wont to do when her older brother was being pursued by the masses, and Maribelle's harsh but critical assessment of each one was a boon.
The list gets shorter until it was merely a fifth of what it had been, and after that, Robin approached Ricken to have a better grasp of their backgrounds. Oftentimes, she caught Frederick following her during her quest, but otherwise never questioned him, and he never offered assistance.
She speaks with each of the girls, discussing things of no importance and things of importance, because she needs to grasp what they know, how they act. More than that, however, she observes them outside of face-to-face interaction. Panne is a reluctant helper, but Robin would slave away in the kitchens to make up for it.
In the end, however, she spoke with Frederick. Like her, no, even longer than she, Frederick had watched over and protected Chrom from any threat, no matter how mundane. Above that, he cared for their lord's welfare, and his was an opinion that Robin could not do without. He scrutinizes her quietly, judging her, and she allows it.
She is deciding Chrom's future, because Chrom trusts her. For him, for his acceptance of one such as her who woke without memory and had nowhere to go, for the family he had given her. It is a weighty thing, his trust.
Frederick gives her his thoughts, and though she can see that he disapproves of the idea, there is necessity. Urgency. And so, she measures each girl, keeping fact and opinion and observations in her head as she traces each imaginary path to possible futures.
It is a marriage of convenience.
She weighs between positives and negatives, she makes contingencies so that Chrom may have his freedom, if all goes sour. Robin wishes for those scenarios to be wrong, that Chrom and his future wife will be human, enough to change and fall in love with each other.
That summer, they stand in one of the hallways out of earshot of the heralds and she feels the weight of her decision. She whispers names to him, speaking of possibilities and the negatives, but omits the escape plans that she has created. Sees the trust and resignation in his eyes and felt the need to reach out, to grasp his hands.
She is there for him, she wants to say, but can't. She would offer herself, but that was not an option. Not when she was a nothing in the eyes of his court.
He bids her to remove his glove and she does, puzzled by the order and it grows when he takes off his ring and presses it into her hand. Their Brand, their House insignia is beautifully crafted on its surface. His palm his warm as it lays flat on hers, and the ring is warming in the space between.
"Keep it," he says.
Within a month, Chrom has a beautiful wedding, celebrated by (almost) all, and it is nearly a festival.
The small pouch she keeps around her neck stops irritating her skin. She imagines that the ring is still warm.
Author's Note: Part 2, in a sense. My working hours changed, so it's been harder for me to find the time to write. Sorry!