When two hours passed without Robin returning, Chrom went to look for him. He hadn't the slightest idea where he could be, but the prince couldn't be dissuaded. Stopping only to make a brief visit to the Citadel, Chrom took to wandering the winding streets and market squares of the slums.
Where Careston's slums met the decaying commercial areas of the antebellum Plegian economy was the Warrens, the district Chrom's Peacekeepers were tasked with patrolling. The appropriately named area was a maze of crowded roads choked with street vendors, crowded tenements, and even a number of homeless communities. The buildings varied from ramshackle jury-rigged edifices made by the locals to old stone buildings fallen victim to urban decay and repurposed as houses. Chrom couldn't decide which was rougher; seeing a Plegian family cram into a makeshift home, or seeing twenty cram into what had once been a bank or a tax collecting office. At least here, the city of Careston was dead. These unhealthy slums weren't something a thriving, living city had. Here, the city's rotten corpse had been brought back as a necrotic mess. The poverty bothered Chrom, but he looked over every centimeter of the Warrens all the same.
Hours passed. As the sun dove to a fiery finish, Chrom enjoyed what little breeze made it over the nearby city walls—lukewarm gusts that hammered up the blocks of brutalist stone buildings. Wiping sweat from his brow as the humid afternoon set in, Chrom almost didn't believe his eyes when he at last came across a white haired young man sitting at a bench. "Chrom." His voice was familiar, but not inviting. "You really went out looking for me?"
The prince smiled uneasily as he walked over. He'd been over five meters away when Robin spoke to him. "How'd you know it was me?"
Robin flashed his bare right hand without turning around, making his glowing purple brand visible. "My personal early warning system. It always stings when something's about to change."
"That's quite the parlor trick."
Robin turned. He wasn't emotional. Rather his voice had a quiet, bitter pain to it. "You don't get to make jokes."
"I… yeah. Sorry."
"It was either you or another police officer coming to Conrad me."
Chrom winced. "... You found out about him."
Robin nodded. "He was a dock worker. He had a wife. A terrible apartment. A two hour commute. What more does a man want, huh?" He shook his head. "Maybe he was involved with the Grimleal. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was trafficking weapons into the city. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just a victim of profiling. Maybe he wasn't. The only thing anyone knows for sure… is that he's gone. The boys in blue and gold came for him one day in broad daylight, and no one has seen him since."
"How'd you find out?"
"It took me ten minutes, Chrom!" Robin snapped. "All I had to do was talk to people! Everyone knew what happened, and a lot of people told me about others who disappeared! There have been a lot of Conrads!" Robin took the time to calm down. "I think part of the reason why people are so upset, why he's become such a symbol for the public's hatred of the occupation, is because the police have been so silent about it. The only reason people even know the police took him at all is because they did it in public. There have been no statements. No reports. Nothing. It's like they're waiting for everyone to just forget. Who knows how many people have been taken in secret. I mean, if a loved one disappears, you don't know if they've died in an accident, or if the police just spirited them away! People are afraid, Chrom."
The prince took a deep breath as he walked in front of the bench. "I should have told you. I was going to eventually, but I guess I wanted you to trust us more first. I thought I was protecting you… but now I see I was sparing myself. I'm sorry, Robin. You deserve better than that. Can, can I sit down?"
Robin shrugged. "It's a public bench."
Chrom handed him the package he'd picked up from the Citadel as he sat. "I got you something. Heh, I suppose it was already yours, but we forgot it before."
Robin hesitantly opened the package to find his cloak, pressed and starched. Chrom slowly let himself smile as Robin lit up. He tried to hide his feelings, but the Peacekeeper (status pending) was clearly happy to see his one notable possession again. "Oh. Thanks."
"It's not all good news. They made a modification." Confused, Robin unfolded the cloak and turned it around to see a massive golden Mark of Naga was now embroidered on the back of it. Robin's smile wiggled, as if conflicted over whether this was still a good moment. "The chamberlain insisted. I'm sorry. I would have stopped them if I could've."
"Huh." Robin put it on. "Well, it's still nice to have back. Thank you, Chrom. And… thanks for coming back for me."
The two exchanged looks. "Robin?"
"I… I've had a lot of time to think about everything, and I made a realization."
Chrom leaned forward. "And?"
"I…" Robin fidgeted as he tried to express himself, but it actually made Chrom hopeful. This minor awkwardness reminded him of the Robin he'd first met. The one who was oddly nervous in front of his sister. The betrayal in his eyes had abated. "I trust you, Chrom. I do. I can't explain it, but I just want to believe you. I realized… it's Ylisse that I'm not sure about. I have no connection to Plegia or this city, but I've seen how the people here feel about the occupation, and I've seen guards and nobles look at me with distrust because I'm Plegian. I mean, that's nothing more than a word to me, Chrom. I have no memories of my early life, so my being Plegian doesn't mean anything to me. Plegia, to me, isn't a home. It's not my culture. I have no connection to it. I feel no different from you or Lissa, and yet that meaningless word causes other Ylisseans to treat me so differently. I can feel the ethnic tensions here. This city is at a breaking point, and anyone can see it. I'm a complete stranger to all this, and I still see it."
"I know what you mean."
"Do you? You may be a nice guy, but you're still part of this. You talk about not wanting to get involved in politics, but you are still a mechanism in the occupation. You're still responsible." Chrom turned away as Robin's words got to him, but he continued. "And that's why you didn't tell me. You knew I'd realize this. You wanted me to be part of the system too when you told me. You tried to control how I would see the police. Chrom, what we did at New Themis, I want that. We saved people! We made a difference! I… I don't want people to fear me. That's all I've seen here."
"Robin…"
"Am I being unfair to you?"
Chrom met his gaze again. "No. You're right. I… am part of this. I'm the prince. I am part of everything Ylisse does."
"Are you trying to say you had no choice in the matter?"
"It's the opposite! My father wanted me to be an officer in the regular military. I said no. He wanted me to be the Captain of his personal guard. I said no. I settled for Peacekeeper because I realized I could make a difference here. I'm with you, Robin. I want to help. Still… I am a part of this occupation. You're completely right about me. I tried to color your perception of the police, and I controlled what you saw and heard. I was going to tell you eventually… but like I said… I was just sparing myself. I respect you, Robin, and I need to prove that. What happened in the station… it won't be another Conrad."
"How?"
Chrom stood up. "Because I'll tell people. The whole city will know what Nombry did. I think… I think everyone has an inherent distrust of the police. No one likes the idea of people who can order you around, or hurt you and get away with it. The fact that we're foreign only makes it ten times worse. The police have to earn the public's trust. We're going to be transparent."
Robin looked surprised. "Chrom, that would destroy your reputation."
"I'll tell the truth. Nombry acted entirely on his own, but you're right. I was his superior, and I am responsible. Still… you said it yourself. People are angry about what happened to Conrad not just because he disappeared, but because there was no communication. I won't try to hide this. Careston deserves to know what happened."
"You… you would really do that?"
"No more secrets, Robin." There was a long period of silence, but Robin visibly softened. Chrom took a chance and held his stare as he smiled. It might have offended Robin if he were still angry, but slowly, surely, he returned a sheepish smile of his own. "You're one of us now, and I shouldn't be keeping anything from you. How about we go back to the station?" Chrom cautiously extended his hand. "If you want."
Robin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Chrom… but I should stand with my people. I'm joining the Grimleal."
Chrom froze, his hand still hanging there. "I… uh… I see. I… well… I guess… if you want…"
Robin snickered. "I just wanted to see your face."
Chrom took longer than he wanted to admit to unfreeze. "Alright?"
"Alright." The two clasped hands. "I trust you, Chrom."
The prince patted him on the shoulder as he had a tendency to do. "Thank you. Come on, Robin. I'll introduce the hell out of everyone."
Chrom's station was a fairly large building by the standards of the Warrens. Made entirely of stone and designed to accommodate several dozen Peacekeepers and prisoners, the station was practically a fortress compared to the rundown buildings in the rest of the slums. The first thing one saw coming through the doors was the station's lobby. Rows of chairs were available to visitors in a waiting area, and a large reception desk big enough for at least two people immediately grabbed the eye of anyone entering. The ground behind the desk was notably raised, allowing officers sitting there to be at eye level with people standing on the other side. Presumably this also served as a safety measure to make getting behind the desk difficult. On either side of the reception desk were two doors. To the left, a heavily armored door lead to the jails—twelve single occupant cells for anyone arrested by the Peacekeepers in their regular policing duties. To the right was a door leading to areas reserved for the Peacekeepers themselves. Half the building's interior was dedicated to providing a home away from home for the officers and included a break room, a dedicated kitchen, sleeping quarters, a washroom, and a training area.
Chrom had kept his word. Arriving back at the police station just before sundown, the Captain took the time to introduce his tactician to each and every Peacekeeper under his command before the majority of them went home for the day. The prince was in charge of thirty people, and he went on at length about each officer. One thing was for sure. Chrom really did get to know his subordinates. They weren't simple units in a game to him.
Robin was in the living areas of the police station when the sun slipped below the horizon. The majority of Chrom's Peacekeepers had left by then, either going home or, uniquely in Frederick's case, insisting on a nighttime patrol, but Sully, Stahl, Tiffany, and Sumia remained. Though Robin had seen most of them before, Chrom made the effort to introduce them more thoroughly.
"Let's see if I got this right." Robin said with a smile as he went over the Peacekeepers. He started with the familiar face of a cavalier with curly red hair. "You're Sully, a knight in training."
She nodded. "Hell yeah. I've known Chrom here since the two of us were just anklebiters."
"Why did you become a Peacekeeper?"
"You kidding?" To Robin's surprise, Sully wrapped her arm around Chrom's neck and rubbed her armored knuckles across his head. The prince recoiled in pain, but his friendly smile suggested they did this kind of thing frequently. "I can't let his pampered royal ass out of my sight. He'll break a nail."
"Don't mind Sully here." Chrom laughed as he wrestled free. "The world is a collection of vaguely hostile shapes to her, but her strength is appreciated."
Sully shrugged. "Better safe than sorry. You never know when some 'innocent' Plegian is hiding a flux tome under their clothing. You ever get hit by a flux tome, Robin?"
He shrugged. "Can't say I have."
"It involves all the particles in your body being knocked out of sync with reality by dark magic. Stings like a mother-hugger."
Robin looked to Stahl next. "Stahl, is it?"
The one Peacekeeper present that Robin hadn't met when entering Careston smiled. "That's me. I joined Chrom at the same time as Sully."
Chrom looked to him. "Stahl here is a good Officer. Actually, he's considered perfectly average in many regards. Heh, people sometimes joke that he's the standard other officers are measured against."
"So why did you become a Peacekeeper?"
Stahl thought about it. "I don't know. I wanted to serve my country, I guess. I always thought about becoming an apothecary when I was growing up, but my brother went into that business, and I wanted to stand out. I like being here. I feel like I'm making a difference." Stahl's smile grew as his eyes became glassy, as if he wasn't even focused on Robin anymore. "Plus, you get all kinds of free food with this job. Sometimes locals will even come by with things they baked… though they stopped doing that after the whole Conrad affair."
Robin looked to the cavalier with long straight red hair next. "And you're Tiffany?"
The young woman nodded. Tiffany was notably younger than anyone else present, and as he looked closely, Robin realized her hair was probably dyed. Her natural hair color, if her eyebrows were any indication, was light green. "That's me!"
"Tiff here is young." Chrom added. "But she's dedicated."
"So what brings you here?"
"Well…" Tiffany rubbed the back of her neck. "I wanted to be a Pegasus Knight. I became a squire and everything, but I had to leave once they started training us to fly."
Sully snickered. "Afraid of heights."
Robin raised an eyebrow as Tiffany blushed from embarrassment. "Then why did you want to be a Pegasus Knight?"
"Because they're so graceful and regal. Besides, how was I supposed to know I was afraid of heights before actually getting in the air?!" Tiffany's disposition improved as she suddenly glowed with pride. "But being a Peacekeeper is great too. I can still serve Ylisse, and we get to go on quests!"
"Quests?"
"No, Robin!" Sully cried out as Robin remembered the last time he talked to Tiffany. "Don't get her started—"
"Oh yeah! Lots of opportunities for quests! Heck, do you know how much XP I got just last month? I'll be looking at a promoted class here pretty soon."
"What… what does any of that mean?"
"Well, we're always having wacky adventures. For example, just last week we travelled to the Plains of Endless Night to prevent the agents of chaos from pouring through another dimension and taking over our world!"
Robin looked to Chrom with wide eyes. "Really?!"
Tiffany giggled. "No, I made that up, but there was the time we went to the Valley of Long Sorrows to retrieve the ancient thumb of a Divine Dragon. We were sword fighting with pirates one moment, and seeing Chrom take second place in a swimsuit competition the next."
"Alright, that's definitely a joke."
"No, really! The Thumb Quest was real!"
"It's true, Robin." Chrom groaned. "My father really did send us after… a Divine Dragon's fossilized thumb."
"And there was a swimsuit competition?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Alright, everyone." Robin and the others turned around as Sumia entered the break room from the kitchen, tray full of snacks and mugs of ale in hand. The Pegasus Knight grinned with pride, happy to help out however she could. Despite that excitement, or perhaps because of it, her feet didn't quite follow the rest of her body as she approached the table. "Snacks are read-AARGH!"
The aviator went twirling forward. With sudden dexterity beyond anything he thought he had, Robin hurried from his chair and steadied the tray in one arm while catching Sumia in the other. The other Peacekeepers broke out into applause as he set the snacks down and helped Sumia twist her boot back into position. "Wo-hoah!" Stahl cheered. "Nice one, Robin!"
"That's nothing." Chrom added supportively. "You should have seen when he leapt forward and deflected a hand axe at New Themis."
The attention embarrassed Robin somewhat, and he stepped back as Sumia straightened herself. "Phew. Thank you, Robin, was it?"
"Yeah. No problem."
"Are you okay, Sumia?" Chrom got up from his chair and gave her a sympathetic look, though Sumia couldn't seem to meet his gaze. "Those boots again?"
"Uh… yeah."
Chrom gently took her chin and turned her head to look right at him. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"N-No, Captain. I-I'm fine. Really!"
Robin could have sworn the two shared a moment before very suddenly stepping back, like they'd briefly forgotten where they were. Sumia blushed a little, perhaps out of embarrassment, but the slightest bit of red was visible under Chrom's skin too. "Well, anyways, thank you for getting these for everyone."
"Yeah, Sumia!" Tiffany chirped as she reached for a mug. "Thanks!"
"Yeah." Sully noticed Tiffany as she went for a mug. "Thanks for… kid? What are you doing?"
"Aw come on! I'm a unit in this party!"
"Nice try." Sully smacked Tiffany's hand away, taking the mug for herself. "We're not letting a sixteen year old girl drink."
"How old were you when you started drinking?"
"Thirt… that doesn't matter! Hide your drinking from adults like any other self respecting teenager!"
Robin didn't mind the idea of helping himself to a cold mug and some of the finger foods Sumia brought, but the thought of a Peacekeeper not currently present stayed his hand. "Uh… is it okay to drink here? Frederick wouldn't mind, would he?"
"It's fine." Stahl replied, though his voice was a little shaky. "We're off duty. It's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"... It's fine."
"I'll allow it. Just talk to me if Frederick complains." Chrom smiled at Robin, though the intensity of his gaze made it clear he was also serious. "After all, we're celebrating. I want our new tactician to know he's among friends."
Robin tried to relax as he returned to his chair and helped himself, but the atmosphere was still disquieting to him. His new allies were friendly enough, but then again, these same people seemed perfectly fine with Nombry before. Did they really not see what he did coming at all? The bum turned boy in blue lost himself in thought, not responding as the other Peacekeepers told jokes and informed Chrom of what they'd done while he was gone. "So, Robin." Tiffany finally acknowledged him again, snapping him back. "You seem like a great guy. Broad shoulders. Good chin, the kind of chin that makes a room take notice. Standard traits for a male action protagonist."
"... Come again?"
"So what did you do before you met Chrom?" She continued.
"I… honestly can't remember."
"Right." Sully added. "Chrom told us you were a few screws shy of a furniture set before he went to go look for you."
"Sully!" Sumia remarked. "That is not how the Captain described it!"
"I didn't mean anything by it! I didn't go to prissy noble school. I don't know what the proper term for it is."
Tiffany cocked her head slightly as she looked Robin over. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"I don't remember."
"Where are you from?"
"I don't remember."
"What do you remember?"
Robin thought. "A short, pretty man with a butterfly mask."
Sully eyed him. "... Alright? Where do you find these people, Chrom?"
"Robin will earn your trust. I promise. When you see him in action, you'll see what a great asset he is to have around. He's saved me more than once."
Robin looked to Chrom. "Now if you could do something to earn my trust. You said you'd freely share information with me?"
Chrom nodded. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I want to know more about Nombry." Robin looked around the table, making eye contact with each Peacekeeper. "I know you disavowed his actions, but it seemed like he was one of you. I don't understand why he would do something like that. Was he different in any way?"
"He was one of us." Chrom answered bitterly. "He was with us for two years. What he did… I don't understand it either."
Sumia shrugged. "He's a lot older than the rest of us. There's one difference."
"Does that matter?"
"Well, Robin, it means he was a strapping young man when the rest of us were too young to even pronounce 'Peacekeeper'." Sully responded. "And there was a happening place all the young men went to fifteen years ago. It was called the front line in Plegia."
"He was a crusade veteran?"
"He was. Ylissean Army. It didn't exactly endow him with people skills, but he was great to have around when suspects gave you attitude. He was a tough bastard too. Name a major battle of the last few years of the crusade, and he was part of it. The False Calm. The Fifth Siege of Careston. The Massacre of Long Sorrows. The Unending Retaliations. He survived it all."
Stahl nodded as he sipped his ale. "Pretty much every guy over thirty had something to do with the crusade, and a lot of them are… off. The war changed people."
Robin frowned. "Not for the better?"
The cavalier looked uncomfortable, and he picked at the snack foods to calm himself. "Well, the last time a veteran was in the news was when that sorcerer grabbed a Thoron tome and blasted up a school downtown last month. He just walked through the doors and started slinging spells. Sometimes these war vets just… snap."
"The Citadel has noted an increase in violence over the past five years. They're calling it economic anxiety." Sumia chimed in. Sully scoffed.
"Sure, 'economic anxiety'. That's a nice new term for off his arse crazy."
"Nombry's not crazy." Chrom said bitterly. "He knew what he was doing. He just won't tell us why." The prince directed his determination at Robin. "But I promise we'll get to the bottom of this. We're not the occupation police. We don't brush out actions under the rug."
"I guess we should focus on how you're going to tell the public about this." Stahl put on a smile. "I think you should accentuate the positive. Focus on what the Peacekeepers do well. You saved the town of New Themis. Big tick. You have Robin, a Plegian, with you now. Big tick. Nombry only brutally assaulted a man. He didn't actually kill him. That one's more of a little tick, but it still counts!"
Chrom spoke dryly. "So I should go for a nice mix of depressingly gloomy and offensively upbeat?"
"Whatever keeps the riots from happening."
"I need to think about this myself." Chrom excused himself to the kitchen, leaving the others to relax. Robin wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the casual attitude. The friendliness that made Chrom and his officers so approachable at first now felt inappropriate given the subject matter.
"Ah." Stahl almost moaned as he leaned back. "It's been too long since we could enjoy the ale. I was starting to think we'd have to throw it out."
Sully chuckled to herself. "Maybe you shouldn'ta bought it, Stahl. I mean, you know Frederick doesn't let us drink. He barely lets you keep pastries here."
"It's fine." Stahl said as he took a long sip. Robin didn't pay much mind to the discussion. He focused on the sound of the station's doors swinging open, and he instinctively tensed as armored footsteps rang through the building. Sure, any armored Peacekeeper could have been returning to work, but somehow Robin knew exactly who it was.
"Stahl!" Frederick's voice shot the moment he entered. "Is that alcohol?!"
"It's not fine!" Stahl cried out as he shoved the mug forward in panic.
"We are not off duty!" Frederick angrily gathered everyone's drinks in the center of the table, somehow lifting them all without spilling. "Any of us could have to deal with an emergency at any time! We can not afford to have our senses dulled!"
"Come on, Frederick! You think we're never off duty!"
"Exactly!" Frederick set the drinks on a table and shot an accusatory finger at Stahl in one swift motion. "The regulations around here are further disregarded with every passing day! Everywhere I look I see rules being stretched, protocols being violated, and standards being dragged into the street and kicked to death like a sick dog! Even now I see no less than sixteen violations of protocol! Stahl, you're drinking on duty!"
"But—"
"Sully, your armor is stained! Tiffany, I can clearly see your hair has become at least three centimeters too long to be within regulations! Sumia, your Pegasus has relieved itself in the stables!"
"Huh?! But she just… oh Belfire, what did you get into?!"
Tiffany tried to stand tall. "I just want you to know that I'm perfectly alert, sir! I didn't have any."
"Very good, Tiffany. Considering you're the only one here I can trust to be entirely aware, you'll be taking over my nighttime patrol."
Sully punched her in the arm as she visibly moped. "Sucking up gets you nowhere, kid. Best you learn early."
"What's all that shouting?" Chrom opened the door with a few documents in hand. "Frederick?"
"Milord, do you have any idea what was going on here?!"
"The ale? Yeah, I allowed it."
Cognitive dissonance hit Frederick like a carriage. Every fiber of his being had a problem with what he saw, but if Chrom was okay with it… "Oh. Very… good… milord."
"Actually, you're just in time to help me with this, Frederick." Chrom laid out a few notes he'd scribbled on the table. "I'm preparing a difficult report for the Citadel."
"The business with Nombry and the prisoner?"
"Yes, but there are some bright spots." Chrom smiled from ear to ear. "I'll officially have Robin as my tactician. He'll be a lieutenant in the Peacekeepers, Frederick. Just like you."
Frederick's eye twitching resurfaced. "Excellent… milord. Will the wonders of this day… ever… cease?"
Robin smiled back. "You'll announce that officially?"
"I will. It'll be good to show the city we have Plegians in important positions."
"Why does me being… wait." Robin pondered the situation, and he looked at Chrom with new eyes as it dawned on him. "Because I'm Plegian, and because I have no prior connection to the Peacekeepers, making me an officer will help to diffuse the situation. Chrom… everything you do is actually very calculated."
Chrom gave a strange smile; partly guilty, and partly mischievous. "I have to be practical about this. The whole city will erupt into rioting if I don't soften the blow somehow." The prince gently placed his hand on Robin's shoulder. "But you're not here to be a token Plegian. We really could use someone with your talents, Robin."
"Yes." Frederick said in his characteristic tone. "However did we get by without him?"
The great knight left the room, the other Peacekeepers notably exhaling as he did. "Phew." Sumia stood up. "That could have been worse."
Robin's ears were still ringing. "It gets worse?"
Sumia nodded. "Frederick can give lectures so grandiose, so epic—so narratively dense—they have foreshadowing, callbacks, metaphors, red herrings, and finales that leave the door open for future lectures. We got off easy."
"You want some advice, Robin?" Sully chuckled. "Try not to be around Frederick unless Chrom's nearby."
The prince just smiled. "Come on. He's not that bad."
"How would you know? No one reprimands you, daddy's boy."
"Do you want to see him when he's really upset?" Chrom teased. "All I'd have to do is tell Frederick I didn't allow the ale. He'd come right back."
"Oh, you are just the worst."
"How about you show Robin to his sleeping arrangements. I'm sure he'll appreciate having a real bed."
"Oh, he'll be needing it." Robin turned warily as Frederick entered with three books in his hands. "Robin and I have a long night ahead of us."
"W-What are those?"
Frederick walked over to the table and let the three books slam down, rattling the snack tray. "The Peacekeeper Handbook: Required reading for Peacekeepers. The Ylissean Code: Required reading for Ylissean military personnel, which includes Peacekeepers. The Maribelle Accords: Required reading for law enforcement in Occupied Plegia, which includes—"
"Peacekeepers?"
"Exactly. We're going to be covering all three of these tonight."
"Heh." Robin laughed nervously as he turned to Chrom. "That's a good joke. R-Right, guys? Uh, guys? Guys?"
"Sorry, Robin." Chrom patted him on the shoulder. "We all had to go through it. Even Frederick."
Frederick gave a sly grin. "Oh, but I quite enjoyed my own reading sessions."
"Which means normal people hate them." Robin sighed. "Great."
It was late at night when Sumia finally returned from the stables. Though the young woman readily entertained fantasies about her awaiting bunk, the humidity of a late summer night in Plegia kept her awake, and she eagerly made her way into the station's kitchen. Fixing herself a glass of water, she paused at the sight of flickering candlelight beneath the door leading to the break room. The other Peacekeepers should have been asleep or at home by now. Though she briefly wondered who it could be, the most likely answer dawned on her as she remembered what Frederick had been doing with the newest Peacekeeper.
"Robin?" She whispered as she stepped through the door. "Are you up?"
The tactician had his head buried in a copy of the Maribelle Accords, but a loud moan told her he wasn't quite asleep. "Go away. I'm trying to study."
Sumia giggled. "Having fun yet?"
"Oh yeah." He responded dryly as he brought his brown eyes to hers. "The most fun was when Frederick spent twenty minutes telling me about the importance of a comma. I'm not talking about commas, either! I'm talking about a single comma!"
"Yeah, the comma in Maribelle Accords Section 5 Subsection 42. I remember that."
"So he wasn't just torturing me? Everyone went through this?"
"Sorry, Robin, but Chrom tells us you're nothing short of brilliant with tactics. I'm sure you'll have an easier time with it than we did."
Robin looked a little embarrassed again. "R-Really?"
"He's glad to have you. Really, he is."
Robin forced himself up, though he spent a few seconds just blinking and staring off into nothing. "So what are you doing up so late?"
"I was cleaning the stables."
"It takes that long?"
"No, I guess not." Sumia smiled to herself. "But I got carried away taking care of my little Bel. I think she ate something she shouldn't have earlier."
"Is she okay?"
"No, it was nothing dangerous. She just had a little upset tummy."
"That's good." Robin appeared to wake up somewhat as his mind shifted from the work forced on him to his natural curiosity and desire to ask questions. "Sumia, would you mind telling me about yourself? I feel like I didn't spend much time talking to you before."
"Sure, Robin."
"From what I've seen in the Citadel, the Pegasus Knights seem very regimented and are under the direct control of the Exalt. How'd you end up here?"
Sumia shifted in her chair. Did Chrom's new tactician really discern so much about her life with a simple observation of other Pegasus Knights? "Well, I actually had to leave the service of the Pegasus Knights to be with Chrom."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The Pegasus Knights report to Captain Phila and serve the Exalt. I liked being with a pegasus, but I guess I was bothered by how strict everything was. I wanted to help the people, and I felt… I felt like the people here were afraid of us. I felt like I was part of a machine. I respect Phila, I do, and I appreciate that they gave me the chance to serve Ylisse, but it felt empty. Then I met Chrom. The Captain here is wonderful. He's actually made a difference, and I'm glad to be with him."
"Was Phila upset when you left?"
"No. I'm still part of the military after all, and she's not exactly lacking in Pegasus Knights. There was a huge recruitment drive when the crusade ended. Now the Exalt has hundreds of Pegasus Knights serving him. Heh, most of them were actually a few years younger than me, or much older than me. It was hard to connect to the other recruits, but everyone here is so friendly."
"You believe in what Chrom is doing?"
"I do. I really do." Sumia lit up as she thought about both Phila and Chrom. The former had taught her to serve the interests of Ylisse, but the later had truly inspired her to. "Phila used to talk about different kinds of leadership. Some leaders only care about personal power or prestige. Some just care about output. Everyone is a resource to them. But Chrom really cares about all of us. He puts the needs of the people first. He really is a leader. A boss says, 'Fight for me.' A leader says, 'Fight with me.'"
"Wow. Phila is a fan of his?"
"Huh? No, no. Those are my words. Phila… uh… doesn't care much for Chrom. She used to complain that his Peacekeepers were disorganized. That he just went wherever he wanted and did whatever he wanted." Sumia shrugged. "Well, everyone has their own opinions."
Robin focused on Sumia's words, as if figuring out how to incorporate them into an opinion of the Peacekeepers he was still developing. "Huh…"
"I know you saw something terrible, Robin." Sumia added. "But I promise you, I promise you, that's not what we do. Nombry will be brought to justice."
Sumia hoped she'd cheer him up, but Robin just held his gaze, as if carefully analyzing Sumia. The young man Chrom had taken in was undeniably handsome, so 'creepy' wasn't the right word, but Sumia felt a little uncomfortable. The intensity of Robin's eyes was hard to match, and he looked to be peering into who she was as a person. Seeing things no one else could. "What of the prisoner?" He finally spoke. "The man who suffered. What is justice for him?"
"Err… what do you mean?"
"What will you do with him? Leave him in his cell? How will things be made right for him?"
"I…" Sumia rubbed the back of her neck. "That's Chrom's decision."
"Sumia." Robin hesitated for a second, but he silently pumped himself up. "I'd like to talk with him."
"Sure thing."
"Really? Just like that?"
Sumia gave a friendly smile. This time she successfully got the tactician to lighten up somewhat. "You're an officer now, Robin. You can go anywhere in the station you want."
Sumia took Robin back to the lobby and into the jails. The holding area was divided into three columns that featured four jail cells each. Grabbing the keys to Gangrel's cell as she approached, Sumia and Robin both paused at the faint sound of talking. Aside from Nombry and Gangrel, the station's jails also held two petty thieves and a man arrested for public drinking. Sumia didn't expect the jails to be completely quiet, but as she listened, she realized she wasn't hearing jeers from the prisoners like she expected. Pressing her ear to the metal door, Sumia heard the talking was actually rather aggressive whispering coming entirely from Gangrel's cell. "It's this prisoner."
"He's talking to himself?"
Sumia placed her head by the small barred window on the door and tried not to let the man on the other side see her. "Do not go gentle into tyranny's grasp. Free men should burn and rave at autonomy's loss. Rage, rage against freedom's end."
Gangrel had simply been sent back to his cell after his injuries were treated, but at his request, Sumia had given him a pen to write with. It was a strange thing for a prisoner to ask, but she didn't see the harm in it. She looked to Robin. "I think he's reading something he wrote aloud."
"He's a writer?"
"Let me see." Sumia looked through the bars. Though it was hard to see in the darkness, Gangrel appeared to be intently focused on a small pamphlet he'd written on the back of. Unbeknownst to Robin and Sumia, this was Common Sense, the treatise Gangrel had authored. With nothing to do, and no other paper available, Gangrel had taken to writing a poem on the back of it. His voice was choked with rage as he continued to read.
"Patriots know they're right as they take their last breaths with throats rasp. Even if their legacies are doomed to fester in history's dead end. They do not go gentle into tyranny's grasp!
Their gods-given freedoms, wild men will not toss. With the last of their strength, their weapons they clasp. They burn and rave at autonomy's loss!
To the Ylisseans, our people must not bend. To the heart and soul of Plegia they shall never cross. Rage, rage, RAGE against freedom's end!"
"Is that a poem?"
Gangrel's anger instantly melted into timidity as he looked up and saw the two Peacekeepers. "Agh! W-Why are you two listening to me?! That poem is private!"
"Sorry, we didn't mean to. We just couldn't help it." Sumia put on a smile. "That's quite the rhyming structure. You know, I like a good poem myself."
Gangrel threw his pamphlet onto the cell bench and stood right at the barred window. As the room's candlelight illuminated his visage, Sumia could see the many bruises from Nombry's attack. It would take time for them to completely disappear. "What do you want, Ylisseans. Come to finish the job?"
"What that officer did was out of line! He will be punished. You're safe here."
Gangrel growled. "You can forgive me for having my doubts."
Robin stepped forward. "I just wanted to talk with you. I'm a new Peacekeeper. I'm trying to understand everything going on here."
"Robin here is Plegian." Sumia added. "Like you."
Gangrel's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Really. So the police recruit founders now? Oh, however could the people of the city possibly riot when you Ylisseans are so progressive in your policies?"
To clarify, "founder" was a Plegian insult developed after the crusade. The word came from the forty Plegian nobles who helped found the Grand Convocation, as these men and women were seen as overly willing to work with the Ylisseans. Some even blamed them for the occupation taking hold. As such, "founder" was used to refer to Plegians seen as overly submissive and subservient to Ylisseans. (It was the Plegian equivalent of calling someone an Uncle Tom.) Gangrel's jeer bounced off Robin, as he wasn't aware of the context. "I'm just trying to get your views on what happened."
"What is there to understand?" Gangrel snarled. "An Ylissean tried to murder me right here in this cell. Do you think I'm the only Plegian this has happened to? Before me it was Conrad, and there have been many Conrads. There have been many unpeople."
"Unpeople?"
"A person swept under the rug by the occupation. Any Plegian that questions them simply disappears."
"Well that won't happen here." Sumia spoke up. "We will have justice for you."
Gangrel ignored her and focused on Robin. "Tell me, why does a Plegian want to work with the occupation?"
"Chrom helped me. Besides, I haven't been a Plegian very long."
"What does that mean?!"
"It's… complicated. My point is that I'm trying to get the stories of both sides. I want to be fair."
Gangrel scoffed. "Useless centrist. There are two kinds of people in Careston, Robin. There are the oppressors, and there is the underclass. There can't be a middle ground between them anymore than there can be a middle ground between bullies and the bullied. Justice means stopping bullying. What would be the middle ground? Allowing just the right amount of bullying? There can be no fairness until the yoke of oppression is thrown off."
"I'm just trying to see all sides of the argument!"
"You're a useless fence-sitter and a race traitor." Gangrel sat back on the bench, letting the darkness cloak him. "And I have nothing more to say to you."
Sumia nudged Robin as he stared dejectedly at the cell. "Come on. Let's go."
Robin began to walk away, but he turned back. "I'll talk to Chrom on your behalf. I promise."
Gangrel gave a grim laugh. "Let me know how that goes for you."
"No, really! I was where you are now. I mean, I was never brutally assaulted, but I lost faith in the police for a time. Chrom is different. I think he really will help you."
The prisoner shook his head as the two finally left. "How unbearably naive. I hope I never have to see him again."
Gangrel noted three feelings when he woke up in his cell the next morning. The first was a crick in his neck from sleeping on the cold stone. The second was dread when he realized his pamphlet was gone. The third was confusion as his cell door swung open just a few minutes later to reveal the unfeeling face of the great knight that had arrested him. As much as he wanted to put on a brave face, Gangrel instinctively recoiled as he involuntarily recalled the last time a soldier stepped through that door. The knight paid his fear little mind. "Gangrel of Careston?"
Gangrel had no idea where he was born. "Of Careston" was simply what the Ylissean officials had given him when he was released into the city. Gangrel winced at the sound, as even his very name was dictated to him by Ylisseans. "That would be me."
"Get out."
Gangrel looked him up and down, carefully scanning for any signs of aggression. "W-What's happening? Is this a joke?"
"Let me tell you something about myself, Gangrel of Careston. My name is Frederick of Furman Valley, and I'm not known for a sparkling sense of humor. Now get out. The Captain wants to see you."
Frederick lead Gangrel through the cells and into the lobby to find Prince Chrom himself sitting at the desk. Gangrel had never seen the royal before in his life, but a Plegian needed only the slightest knowledge of the Ylissean government to have heard of him. With his navy blue hair and the partisan birthmark emblazoned right there on his arm, Chrom was unmistakable. "Ah." The second in line for the throne said casually as he glanced up from several sheets of paper. "So this is Gangly?"
"Gangrel." He snarled. "My name is Gangrel."
"Heh, sorry."
"You're lucky, Plegian." Frederick stated. "The Captain played a hunch. He's young. He still believes in hunches."
Gangrel noticed his pamphlet sitting on the desk. "Why did you take that from me?!"
"Sorry." The dock worker turned to see a fellow Plegian, though this man served the occupiers. Giving a small smile, Robin stepped to the side of the desk. "I went back to talk to you again an hour after our last conversation, but you'd fallen asleep. I took the opportunity to read your work. I hope you don't mind."
"And he showed me." Chrom held it up. "I can't say I agree with everything you've written, but I liked how you encourage non-violent resistance. Anyways, I got to the part about organizing pacifist dissent to oppose the occupation government and thought to myself, 'This doesn't sound like a guy that would start a brawl in a tavern.' On a hunch, I went to the tavern early this morning and talked to the employees. They told me you weren't involved in the fighting, so you're being cleared of all charges. You're free to go." Chrom looked Gangrel right in the eye as he returned the pamphlet to him. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but I'm sorry about what happened. The officer who attacked you has been imprisoned, and he will pay for his crime."
"You're a good writer." Robin chimed in. "You should keep it up."
"Officer Sully will escort you back into the city. Good luck, Gangrel."
The Plegian didn't respond. Though he seethed in rage at everything that had happened since he was arrested, he bit his tongue as he took back his pamphlet and followed the curly haired cavalier out of the station. Robin watched after him, and Chrom returned to his paperwork.
None of the three men had any idea how connected their lives would someday become.
Sully took Gangrel to a predetermined spot where he'd be handed over to Plegian Peacekeepers. The meeting had been arranged by Mustafa himself, who'd contacted Chrom the moment he was able. Having been at the tavern, Mustafa too was initially accosted by Ylissean law enforcement, but his Peacekeeper status got him out of it.
"Well, here you are." Sully said as Gangrel dismounted her horse. "Off you go."
"I will not go gentle." Gangrel responded as he looked back up to her. "I will rage, rage, RAGE, against tyranny's grasp."
"Okay?" The two shared an awkward handshake. "Anyways, enjoy the rest of your life, citizen."
Sully trotted off as Mustafa ran up to his old friend. "Gods above, Gangrel! I heard about what they did to you! Are you okay?!"
Gangrel's red eyes burned with a fury that almost made Mustafa step back. "Never… better…"
I'd just like to thank everyone reading all for the feedback I got last chapter. I especially appreciated the suggestions on ideas going forward. I'll be more than happy to ready any other ideas you all have.
Though it's heavily modified, Gangrel's little poem he scribbles down in jail is based off of "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas.
