Hey everyone! Welcome back!
Well, this chapter took considerably less time to write than the others, even though this chapter is actually the longest. I started this bad boy off thinking it'd only last around 6,000 words, but then it skyrocketed to a fat 10,000. What can I say, the ideas were just flowing this chapter.
Hopefully you all like it! If you enjoy bittersweet moments with a hint of melancholy then boy do I have the chapter for you!
Stick around at the end for some additional comments!
It burned. Everything burned.
Gods, it hurt so much… why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much… The pain Robin felt was near unimaginable.
How did this happen again?
It was on the tip of his tongue, but it continued to evade his grasp. The loss of memory for the already amnesiac tactician nearly hurt more than his body.
"I think he's waking up," a voice spoke. "Robin? Robin, can you hear me?"
It sounded familiar… Lissa? Lissa was here with him…
Robin forced his eyes open.
Everything was a blur at first. He could see shapes and figures, but other than that everything was out of focus as if he were looking through a glass. Everything looked so brown or grey… where was he?
Robin blinked a few times. It didn't help much.
He groaned. He hated this. The feeling of powerlessness was near debilitating. He couldn't see, he couldn't move, and he could barely even talk. It was even worse than the pain. Why was this happening to him?
Lissa's face suddenly invaded his vision. He couldn't see her clearly, but he could make out the familiar hairdo.
He felt a hand cup his cheek. It was cold. Thank Naga, it was cold.
"Robin," Lissa breathed in relief. He felt her thumb trace circles on his cheek before it moved up to his forehead.
"No fever," she mumbled.
Robin opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a raspy cough, and the pain returned. It shot up and down his right side relentlessly. It felt like someone was ripping off his skin… He would have cried out had he the strength.
"Here, here."
He suddenly felt the rim of a glass brush up against his lips. Leaning forwards ever so slightly, he gratefully accepted the small stream of water into his mouth. The cool liquid wetted his bone-dry throat. It was the best damn thing he had ever tasted.
A moment later, Lissa pulled the cup away, much to Robin's dismay.
"Mo…more…"
"Not so much at once. Baby steps."
Robin closed his eyes and sunk back into bed, savoring the little water he had. He licked his lips, trying to get whatever drops of water might be left.
Slowly but surely, a little more strength seeped into his limbs. Clarity slowly returned to him. When he opened his eyes, the dimly lit room he was laid up in was much clearer. He could see the wooden walls and the wooden roof. He could make out the four chairs that were evenly spaced around his bed side. He could even make out Lissa herself, who was watching him with a worried expression on her face.
He didn't like that. Robin knew how cheerful Lissa's bedside manner was. Something must have been seriously wrong for her to look so upset.
Fear gnawed at his heart. Was… was he worse off than he thought? Was there something more to this pain?
Robin looked at the side of his body that was hurting..
A terrified gasp escaped his lips.
"N-no…"
Robin then brought his shaky left hand to his face, slowly feeling around. He didn't feel anything off until he reached the bottom of his cheek. He let out a soft sob when he felt the soft cotton of the dressing on his neck.
"No, no, no…"
He looked to Lissa with wide, fearful eyes.
"It's okay, Robin, you're okay."
Lissa reached out to grab his shoulder, only to hesitate before stopping. Her hand hung in the air for a moment before falling back to her side.
"What-" Robin swallowed when his voice cracked. His voice was nothing more than a whisper. He didn't have the strength to speak any louder. "What happened?"
Lissa hesitated, causing Robin to feel even more afraid.
"L-Lissa…"
"Don't worry about that right now, okay?" Lissa smiled at him, but Robin knew better. "You just worry about getting better."
"Lissa, pl-please…"
The cleric bit her lip and turned her back to him. He could see her fiddling with something, but as to what he had no clue. Nor did he really care. Why wasn't she answering him? What happened to him? Just how serious was this?
Lissa turned back around eventually, the glass of water in her hands.
"Here. Drink some more first."
Robin wouldn't argue with that. He was so damn thirsty still.
When Lissa pressed the glass to his lips once more, he was more than ready to greedily suck down all he could. Lissa continued to lightly lift the glass until Robin had downed all of its contents.
It tasted… sweet, with a hint of bitterness.
Robin narrowed his eyes slightly. Water didn't taste like that.
He looked to Lissa, but he was already starting to feel drowsy.
"You… you…"
"Just rest, Robin," she said softly, lightly tousling his hair. "Just this once, rest."
Robin tried to speak, but the world had already begun to darken.
The moment his eyelids closed he lost consciousness.
Chrom propped himself up on the table, his eyes scanning the map of the port town beneath him. The Shepherds were back on the boat now, taking a well-earned reprieve before they moved all of their supplies from their ships to the land. It'd be a long process. With the amount of ships they have and the troops they bolster, it'll take the better part of a week.
Chrom himself, along with Frederick, Cordelia, and Lucina were currently going over the knight's post battle report, as they did after every battle. The only difference this time was the absence of a certain tactician.
Well, it was mostly just the three of them. Lucina sat in the corner in silence, her eyes lost and cloudy with thought. She would occasionally ask a question, or speak when spoken to, but otherwise she remained silent. It tugged at his heart to see his daughter in such a way, but he knew he couldn't do anything for her; as much as that realization pained him. Only time could now.
"What of the casualties?"
"We've counted eighty-nine of the deceased," Frederick answered. "Five of them were civilian. None from our side."
The exalt closed his eyes, letting out a silent curse. That five should have been zero.
"That means there are sixteen Valmese unaccounted for," Chrom sighed. "Any news on them?"
"Our fliers saw a group retreating from the scene after the fighting ended," Cordelia answered.
"And we are also in the process of searching each of the homes," Frederick added on. "If there are any hiding out, we'll find them."
"Have them stop."
Frederick frowned ever so slightly, a rare trace of emotion on the knight's usually stoic face.
"Milord?"
"We don't need to be invading these people's lives any more than we have to. Besides, I doubt any of the soldiers would be dumb enough to try and find shelter in the city they were occupying."
"Well said," Frederick nodded. "I'll call them off."
Chrom glanced up from the table, making sure the door to the room was closed.
"And what of this 'Say'ri?' Can we trust her?"
"I believe so," Frederick said. "Virion and Cherche confirmed who she said she was: former princess of Chon'sin. She currently leads the resistance army, which Virion also confirmed."
"Thank Naga," Chrom exhaled in relief. "We'll need all the help we can get. I'll talk with her more later. She might have some input on how we should proceed."
"And for now?"
"We stay put. It'll take at least a week for us to unload the ships and prepare for an invasion by land. It'll give us some time to rest and get our legs used to solid ground. During that time, we should send out a forward group to scout the area. Cordelia, I want someone up in the sky every hour. We need to make sure the Valmese don't get the jump on us while we're preparing."
Cordelia nodded and jotted something down in her notebook. Once she finished writing, her pen hesitated.
"What… what of Robin? Have you heard anything?"
Lucina's head perked up at that, but she remained silent
Chrom gritted his teeth and fell back into his chair. There was the question he dreaded answering. He wanted answers just as much as they did, but he just didn't have any. As of now, the only answers he had were bad ones.
"He's alive, but I haven't heard anything else. Lissa and Maribelle have been holed up in that room for hours. They won't let anyone in to see him yet."
Cordelia gasped, while Frederick's frown returned. Everyone took it hard when a Shepherd was injured. They were like a family. When one was in pain, they all were.
It came as a surprise to all that Robin was the downed Shepherd. Their tactician had always done a good job about avoiding any fatal wounds, or wounds of any kind for that matter. He had made it through the Plegian War without so much as a scratch. When the news broke that Robin was the one in critical condition, everyone was shocked.
"Is it really that bad?" she whispered in disbelief.
"It's not good," Chrom replied quietly, sparing a glance at his daughter. "Gaius and Olivia were the ones to find him. They both seemed pretty shaken up by it."
Lucina turned away, biting her lip.
The room fell silent. The quietness that hung on the air was painfully fragile. Chrom hated it, but he could do nothing to change it. It reminded of him of the days after his sister's death, which was something he hoped to never experience again.
"Come on, everyone," Chrom forced himself to grin. "Robin's strong. He'll pull through, and come back stronger than ever."
The exalt didn't know if he was lying or telling the truth, but someone needed to remain strong.
At that moment, the door opened slowly, and an exhausted Lissa walked through. Lucina was the first to react, immediately rising from her chair as her aunt walked in.
"Sister!" Chrom exclaimed, shooting up from his own. "How is he? Is he okay?"
"He just woke up," Lissa replied with a tired smile. "I had to sedate him, but he'll pull through."
The room once again fell quiet.
"'Had to?'" Chrom muttered, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean? Just how bad is it?"
Lissa took a deep breath, looking around and meeting each pair of waiting eyes before continuing.
"It's just so he can rest. When he awoke, he was on the verge of flipping out. Can't say I blame him. Second and third degree burns cover a little less than half his body. Primarily the right side."
Chrom gaped at her. Half his body? Could that really be so?
"We've had to administer healing magic every hour just to ward off infection and make sure the skin continues to mend correctly. It was touch-and-go for a little while, but we're in the clear now."
"He'll be okay though, right?" Cordelia asked.
"Hmhm," Lissa nodded, looking a little more upbeat. "It'll take a while before he's one hundred percent again, but given some time, he should be as good as new!"
Chrom chuckled shakily, absently running a hand through his blue hair.
"When can we see him?" Lucina spoke up.
"Now, if you want," Lissa shrugged. "Now that his wounds have been properly cared for, the risk for infection has lessened considerably. Just know he's still pretty out of it."
Lucina closed her eyes, pausing before nodding a single time.
"We'll visit him in the morning," Cordelia said upon noticing the anxious expression on both lords' faces. "You two go on ahead."
"Thank you both," Chrom smiled at the two of them and turned to his daughter. "Let's go, Lucina."
He didn't need to tell her twice. Lucina was already making her way to the door. Chrom hurried after her, with Lissa in tow. The infirmary wasn't far from where they were, thankfully, as the anticipation was killing him at this point. He had to see that his brother was alive and breathing for himself before he could feel any real relief.
"Oh!" Chrom stopped midstride. "I should go and get Sumia. She'll want to see him as well."
"Already done!" Lissa giggled. "I ran into her on the way here."
"Thank you, Lissa," Chrom wrapped his arm around Lissa's shoulders, lightly rubbing the top of her head as they walked. "…Thank you, for everything. Make sure to thank Maribelle as well, for me. You both did amazing."
"O-of course," Lissa returned the smile, slightly blushing at the honest praise coming from her brother.
Not long after, the trio came upon the infirmary. The door was slightly ajar, but Lucina hesitated at the entrance, her hand hanging in the air as she reached for the knob.
Chrom untangled himself from his sister and stepped forwards, placing his hand on hers and lightly moving it forwards. The two opened the door together and stepped inside.
The room was quiet. Incredibly quiet. It was as if when they had stepped through that doorway, time had slowed down somehow, if not stopped completely. It left an eerie feeling on the air. The slight smell that permeated through the room only amplified that effect. Lissa or Maribelle had clearly tried to remedy that, as he could smell the slightest hint of something flowery, but the smell of copper still remained.
Chrom's eyes immediately fell upon Robin. All things considered, he was sleeping rather peacefully. His chest was rising and falling slowly as he breathed in and out of his slightly opened mouth. He was so subdued that for a moment Chrom worried that something was wrong, but then he remembered his sister mentioning how he was sedated.
Then he noticed the wounds.
The bandages went from his thigh to his neck on his right side. The entirety of his arm and upper leg were wrapped tightly. The dressing on his ribs went as far in as the middle of his chest. From his midsection, the bandages went down to his hip. His undergarments hid part of it, but Chrom could see it continue down to his knee.
No blankets or sheets covered him, so the entire extent of his wounds were on display. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of undergarments to leave him with at least a little dignity.
Chrom turned his head away, suddenly feeling guilty for staring at his friend when he was in such a state. It felt wrong to analyze someone so greatly when they were at their weakest.
He flinched when he felt a hand grab onto his. Looking up, he saw Sumia looking at him with teary eyes.
"Sorry," Chrom sighed and looked back to Robin. "I didn't even notice you."
"I understand, sweetheart," Sumia replied softly and squeezed his hand. "I understand."
By now, Lucina had made her way to the left side of his bed. She stood there motionlessly, staring down at the unconscious man with a pained expression on her face. Lucina didn't reach out or say anything, but simply stood there. She wasn't crying, but Chrom could see the pain in her eyes. The guilt.
The tightness in his chest doubled. He wondered how many times she had been in this situation. More than he had, at least. More than she should.
Lucina eventually reached out to touch him, but stopped. Her hand hovered in the air a few inches away from his head, neither moving nor retreating. Her fingers were reaching out to him, but her hand didn't budge.
A few moments later, her hand fell helplessly back to her side. Lucina grabbed one of the nearby chairs, pulling it a little closer to the bedside before sitting down.
"Those two had sure gotten close," Sumia remarked.
"Indeed…"
The exalt suddenly felt out of place in the room. Almost like an intruder. Robin was like a brother to him, but right now, at this moment, he wasn't the one that needed to see him the most.
He looked over to his wife. The two shared a nod and quietly left the room. They could come back later. Their daughter didn't notice their retreat, nor did she notice when the door closed quietly behind them.
Once Chrom had left the room, his back immediately fell against the door he had just closed.
"Gods," he mumbled, tilting his head up and placing his hand over his closed eyes. "That was… that was surreal. Seeing him like that…"
"I know…"
"I really didn't believe it," he said with a hollow laugh. "I honestly didn't believe it could be Robin."
Sumia didn't say anything. She simply took hold of his free hand once more.
"I know it's scary, but he's going to be okay. Remember what Lissa said?"
"I know, I know," Chrom sighed and lowered his hand, his eyes now pointing up at the ceiling. "But, is he really going to be okay? I mean, you saw him in there. Will he ever be able to lift anything heavier than a sword? Will he ever be able to walk without a limp?"
"Honey."
Sumia reached up and cupped both of Chrom's cheeks and lightly brought his jaw down so his eyes met hers.
"It might be a rough going, but Lissa said he'd get better," Sumia reminded him gently. "And this is Robin we're talking about. He'll probably be up and running around by the week's end."
Chrom returned the smile and pulled his wife into a deep hug.
"Gods, what would I do without you," Chrom whispered into her brown hair.
Sumia giggled and returned the hug, burying her face into his shoulder.
"I love you so damn much," Chrom said and squeezed a little harder. "Never forget that."
Sumia blushed and closed her eyes.
"I love you too."
Lucina sat hunched over, her elbows resting on her knees and her forehead resting in her hands. The princess sat perfectly still, completely silent. She was content to simply listen to Robin's slow breathing.
Her eyes were currently scanning the wooden floorboards, waiting for the wood to somehow give her the answers on what to do.
It was just the two of them in the room. Her parents had left hours ago, while Lissa stepped out to do something. Lucina remembered her saying something about where she was going, but she hadn't been listening at the time.
And even though Robin was only a few feet away from her, she felt so incredibly alone. She was so used to hearing the sounds of his voice when they were together. Used to the silly jokes he made, or the sarcastic comments he was so known for giving. She knew that if he were conscious right now, he'd even be comforting her and giving her advice, because that's just the man he was. If the shoe were on the other foot, Robin wouldn't be sitting here so silently.
So, why? Why couldn't she do the same now? Why was it so different?
She eventually straightened, running a hand through her hair to push it away from her eyes. Those eyes lingered on Robin, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell.
"This is all my fault…"
If only she hadn't left Robin alone. If only she hadn't gone off in the first place. If only she told him where she was going. If only she brought him along… All of these what-ifs swirled around her mind, tormenting her. She could have done any one of these things, and then maybe her friend wouldn't be in this situation right now.
"I'm so sorry, Robin… I never should have left you there alone. I should never have let my anger get the best of me."
She had originally been rather angry with him for sending her back. Knowing what he knew of her past, where did he get off on reprimanding her like that? Say'ri was important to their goal of averting the end, and to her, that's all that mattered. Robin should have agreed with her. In her mind, her mission had always been above the Shepherds. Above the war, above everything. The only thing that mattered to her was saving the world; saving the future. Even if the cost was her own life, she was truly prepared to make that exchange. She thought Robin of all people would respect and understand that.
All that mattered was averting that catastrophe she lived.
Right?
"I truly believed that was for the best," the princess whispered.
She truly believed that until she saw Gaius and Olivia struggle to carry the tattered remains of their friend back to the ship.
Lucina had been bracing herself for this since day one. The moment she came back in time, she had made peace with the fact that loved ones might be lost. That those people she held so dear might inevitably die again. That was the thing about time: some things were just unchangeable.
She was prepared for it, and yet, when she saw Robin's eerily peaceful face as his breathing all but ceased, all of that disappeared. At that moment, all she cared about was well-being.
In the grand scheme of things, it was foolish of her. Robin could very well have been the man that killed her father, and even so, she was beside herself in fear that Robin might not pull through. She wanted nothing more for him to recover even with that knowledge.
"Why?"
Once that fear had passed, the guilt of what happened set in. The guilt of everything set in.
Lucina's nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.
"Why do I continue to fail?"
She couldn't save her people, nor could she save her country. Her father left her that one responsibility, and she still failed as the exalt. Even when given a second chance, she couldn't even save one single person. Her aunt still died. Why did her friends even follow her? It wasn't like she's changed anything or done anything of note. Why did her parents love her? She failed them. Why did Robin befriend her? She's been nothing but trouble for him.
A single tear rolled down her cheek and fell to the floor below.
"Why?!"
Tears streamed down the princess's pale face as her shoulders began to shake. She buried her face in her hands in a vain attempt to muffle her sobs, not caring about the trace of blood left over from her nails.
Useless, useless, useless!
Once those flood gates were open, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about all the tragedies of her life. Her family's death, her country's ruin, her world's destruction… it all came bursting out. One after one, each bad memory layered on top of each other, only proving to intensify her feelings of sadness and despair.
Thank Naga she was alone, because she probably looked like a mess. Sitting all alone in the room of an unconscious man while she bawled her eyes out. Some princess she was.
After a few minutes, the tears began to die down. Her shoulders ceased their shaking. She took a few deep, ragged breaths to calm herself.
Wiping the stray tears from her eyes, Lucina raised her head and looked at Robin.
"I'm sorry," Lucina spoke softly, taking his good hand in hers. With her other, she brushed a stray lock of his white hair behind his ear. "You're laid up in here, and here I am, only thinking of myself."
Lucina smiled, but not really. This expression came easy to her. It was the same smile she gave anyone when they worried about her, or they asked how she was fairing. It was just as fake as she felt.
"It won't happen again. I swear it."
Lucina lowered her head, allowing her forehead to rest on his hand.
She stayed like that for what felt like a while. His touch comforted her. When she held onto his hand, her mind suddenly became clear. The self-pity and self-loathing from only moments ago were now no longer anywhere to be found. When she gripped his hand, all she could think about was the beating of his heart, and how firmly it beat beneath her fingertips.
Lucina knew that this was unprofessional, and probably even unethical, but she didn't care. No one else was here to see her. No one would leave this room knowing what had happened but her. Everything that just happened would only be remembered by her.
That thought comforted her. No matter what happened; no matter what the future held, this memory would always belong to her. It would always be hers and hers alone. No one would know of how she unraveled. No one would see her taking comfort in their tactician's hand in hers. No one would know how she truly felt.
…No one would bear witness to anything she might say or do.
"You better get better soon," she said without looking up. "There are still so many things I wish to do before…"
Lucina cut herself off before she could finish her thought. There were only bad endings to that statement.
"Shall I come back later, darling?"
Lucina flinched at the sudden voice and nearly fell out of her seat. She shot up and away from Robin, her head immediately turning towards the doorway where Maribelle stood.
"Oh, Maribelle," Lucina mumbled, straightening her hair out with her hands. She hoped the troubadour didn't notice the slight blush that tinted her cheeks. Just how long had she been standing there? "N-no, that's quite all right."
Maribelle smiled and entered the room with a Mend stave in her hands.
"I just need to administer another course of healing magic and change his bandages, then I'll be out of your hair."
"You don't need to do that," Lucina smiled awkwardly. "Robin needs you now more than I."
Maribelle smiled back, then leaned her staff against the bed frame and began her work. Lucina suddenly felt out of place, as if she might be in the way, but she remained in her seat.
The first thing she did was remove his dressings. The skin underneath was incredibly red and swollen, but the wounds that were once there were healing. The scars were beginning to set in. There were still a few areas where blood seeped out, but it was a far cry from how the tactician looked when Gaius and Olivia first brought him back.
With the bandages off, Maribelle grabbed her stave. Starting at his neck, Maribelle brought the Mend a few inches away from his skin. A moment later, the end of the staff began to glow. Lucina recognized the soft hum of the healing magic.
Robin groaned in his sleep, his head turning back and forth.
Maribelle sighed and lowered her staff.
"Would you mind holding his head still, dear? If he continues to move around like that it'd make things a little more difficult."
Lucina nodded and rose from her seat. She reached out to grab his face, but hesitated.
"Err, how should I do this?"
"Just hold his head firm enough to keep it in place."
Lucina did as she was told and carefully placed a hand on each cheek.
"Even when he's sedated he continues to give me trouble," Maribelle grumbled and brought her staff back to his neck.
The soft hum of the magic started back up again. Robin groaned again, but this time Lucina kept his head in place.
Lucina stared at the closed eyes of the tactician, her thumb idly tracing circles on his cheek. His skin was surprisingly warm.
Robin always seemed so infallible, but at this moment, he seemed so… small. It was strange. Before she had come to the past, Lucina had only known the tactician as the ruthless strategist that never lost a battle. The cunning wolf that lived for the hunt. That preconceived image changed as Lucina got to know the man better, but he still carried that air of strength and intelligence she had expected. Robin could easily command everyone's attention when he wanted to. Be it if he were giving out orders, discussing strategies, or simply just talking; he always seemed like such a dominant force. His presence was always felt.
And yet, while Lucina held Robin's head as gingerly as she would a child, he felt so frail.
"Lucina."
Maribelle's sudden voice in her ear broke her reverie. She was looking at her with an expectant stare. Had she said something while Lucina had been spacing out?
"You can let go now, my dear."
Lucina's eyes widened and she quickly let go of the tactician's face.
"S-sorry."
Maribelle simply smirked as she continued.
The princess stood there awkwardly for a second more before she sat back down in her chair.
"This will probably take another hour," Maribelle said. "You can go and get some air, if you wish. I would retrieve you when I finished."
"I'm fine. Don't mind me."
Lucina took a deep breath and looked down at her hand, her thumb running over the fingertips on her other hand. Robin's warmth still lingered.
Robin's eyes slowly fluttered open. He let out a moan when he saw the familiar wooden ceiling of the boat's interior. Damn boat.
It wasn't just a dream. Damn it.
As if to spite him for thinking such a foolish thought, the pain returned. The right side of his body hurt like all hell, but it didn't seem as bad now. Maybe it was because he didn't feel as out of it, or maybe the sleep did him some good, because it wasn't as encompassing as before. He could actually think straight. He could actually remember what had happened, as well as a few blurry spots in between.
"Ah, son of a bitch."
If Robin could, he would facepalm. How could he freeze up in the middle of battle? What the hell was the matter with him? It was shameful.
The Grandmaster of Ylisse, the strategist of the Ylissean League, had made mistakes that not even a rookie greener than grass would make.
And now he was burnt all over, covered in wrappings like some half-alive mummy.
Do I even deserve to be-?
Robin shook his head. That was a dangerous line of thinking. He needed some fresh air before he festered in this bed any longer.
He looked around the room before he moved, finally noticing the fact that he wasn't alone. Not even close.
Maribelle was sitting in a chair that was pushed up against the far wall, her head resting in her hand as she peacefully slumbered. His chest tightened with guilt at the thought of how long she had been here. He'd have to thank her and Lissa later.
The big surprise however was the blue-haired princess. She was in the chair closest to his bed, her body leaning forward in her seat while her head rested on his bed. Her head was so close to his good arm that he could even feel her breath tickle at his skin. It looked rather uncomfortable to sleep like that, but she seemed to be fast asleep.
Just how long have I been asleep?
And how long had she been here with him? Regardless, Robin was relieved. He was truly worried that she'd be pissed with him, but maybe that wasn't entirely the case. That was just one more load off his mind.
The only problem now was getting out of bed without inducing mind-numbing levels of pain or waking either of the sleeping beauties.
Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Robin moved his right leg over the side of the bed.
Pain.
Robin bit his lip and pushed his back into the bed, doing his best to not cry out. It felt like someone had just ripped off his skin like a piece of tape.
Once the pain finally settled, Robin pushed himself up with his good arm as slowly as he could. It hurt, but not as badly.
He was finally sitting up.
Robin took a handful of deep breaths. He had barely even moved, but he felt exhausted.
"Gods damn it," Robin breathed through gritted teeth.
At this point, he was continuing simply to prove that he actually could do it. He'd get out of this damned room if it was the last thing he did.
He moved his left leg over the side of the bed. Now both of his feet were touching the floor.
Now came the hard part.
Robin pushed himself into a standing position…
"Ah!"
…And immediately collapsed.
Thankfully the wall was close to the bed, otherwise he would have fallen straight to the ground.
Robin hissed through his teeth, a slew of curses that would leave a sailor blushing echoing in his head.
Leaning against the wall, he looked around for something to prop him up. Anything that he could use for a makeshift cane.
He saw a Mend stave leaned up against his bed frame.
"Sorry Maribelle," he whispered and grabbed the long, wooden staff. If she knew that he was about to use her prized healing equipment as a walking aid, she'd probably do him in herself.
Gripping it with his right hand, he tested himself by putting his weight on it. His right arm was just as badly burned as the rest of that side, but thankfully it looked like his palm had escaped any damage. It hurt to lean against it, but not anymore than it already did.
Pushing himself away from the wall, he hobbled towards the door. It was a slow process, but at least he could walk at all. Baby steps.
But, before he could even make it to the door handle, it twisted and the door opened.
Chrom's eyes immediately met his.
He had to give himself some credit. Never before had he done something to leave the exalt so dumbfounded.
"Robin, what in-"
Before he could continue, Robin shushed him and motioned him to go back outside.
Chrom stared at him with the same stupefied expression, but eventually he did back out of the room. Robin limped after him, using the Mend as a cane, then closed the door behind him.
"Now you can talk," Robin wheezed, his back falling against the closed door.
"What in Naga's name are you doing out of bed walking around?!" Chrom hissed. "Have you taken a look at yourself?"
"Why yes I have, thank you very much," Robin smirked tiredly. "No amount of fire could ruin this dashing figure."
"…After all that's happened, you think it's wise to act smart with me?" Chrom frowned dangerously, crossing his arms. "We were all worried sick about you, you know. And this is how you repay that? By cracking jokes and reopening your wounds just so you can take a stroll?"
Robin closed his eyes and turned his head up to the ceiling, unknowingly mirroring the same movements his best friend had made earlier that day.
Of course he wouldn't understand. Why would he? Robin just deflected as he always did.
"I can't…"
"Hm?" Chrom raised an eyebrow.
"I can't stay in that room," Robin repeated quietly. "Do you understand? If I… If I stay in that bed any longer, if I stay in that bed, unable to move as I lay there and take it, I'm going to start having bad thoughts. I'm going to start thinking bad things."
Chrom's glare softened, his arms falling back to his sides.
"I've just got to get some fresh air," Robin sighed, purposefully avoiding his eyes at this point. "Just help me to the deck, let me clear my head, then you can take me back."
The lord stood there silently, his eyes lost in thought as he considered the proposition. Robin could understand his anger. He had every right to be upset… Instead of being truthful from the start, he had defected to his classic strategy of deflecting with sarcasm. He hated that part of himself, but it came so naturally to him. It was hard not to do it at this point.
After a few seconds, Chrom nodded.
"Fine. At least let me help you walk, then."
Robin smiled gratefully and accepted the shoulder offered to him. Wrapping his good arm around his neck, the two slowly made their way towards the stairs that lead to the boat's deck.
"Are you sure you can make it up these steps?" Chrom asked when they stopped before the stairs.
"As long as you're here, yeah."
Chrom nodded and the two began to make their way up. They took it slowly, one stair at a time. It hurt, but by this point, Robin had grown used to the pain. If anything, it was starting to become useful. It was hard to focus on anything specific when his body ached like it had never ached before.
After what felt like an hour, the two cleared the near insurmountable set of stairs.
Robin exhaled in relief when he felt the cool night air lick at his wounds. Seeing the dim light coming from the full moon above set him at ease. He had always preferred nighttime. It was quiet and calming.
Chrom led Robin to the ship's railing. Once they got close enough, Robin broke off from Chrom and fell against the wood with the grace of a rock.
Robin coughed and wheezed for air. They had walked probably less than twenty feet, but he felt like he had just finished running a marathon. His body was drenched in sweat. There's another thing Maribelle could get pissed at him for. She'd probably have to change his dressings the minute he returned.
"Well, I brought you out here," Chrom sighed and stopped beside him. "Mind explaining it to me now?"
Robin glanced at him as he gasped for air.
"E-explain what?"
He knew exactly what Chrom wanted to hear, but he asked regardless in the small off-chance that he was referring to something else.
Even to the bitter end, he was afraid to voice his weaknesses.
"You said that if you stayed cooped up in that room any longer you'd start to have 'bad' thoughts," Chrom reminded him and turned towards him. "What did you mean by that?"
"Right," Robin mumbled and turned his eyes to the dark waters below. "Where should I begin?"
"Anywhere," he shrugged. "I'm prepared to listen."
Despite himself, Robin couldn't help but smile. He truly didn't deserve a friend like Chrom. His kindness and patience deserved the truth in return, but therein lied the problem: how could he explain his thoughts if he couldn't even make sense of them himself?
Maybe that's why they were called insecurities. They left the tactician feeling insecure about every little thing.
"…I don't think I can continue being your tactician," Robin admitted quietly after a pregnant pause. "Nor should I deserve to."
Chrom didn't say anything. Robin could feel his piercing gaze boring holes into the side of his head, but he didn't dare look at him.
It was so quiet that if he didn't know any better, Robin would have thought that the only one that had heard his confession was the ocean below.
"That is…" Chrom began, Robin hanging off his every word. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. What in hell's name has you thinking that?"
Robin turned to Chrom with wide eyes, not expecting such a strong rebuttal right out of the gates.
"I mean, you said it yourself. Just look at me."
Robin's eyes fell upon the wounded side of his body, his lips tugging downwards in a frown. He looked like a battered mess of a human being.
"By the time I can fight at full strength, the war may very well reach its peak. As it is, I can barely walk without assistance, let alone hold anything in my right arm. Who knows when I can fight fully again? You just can't wait on me that long."
Chrom scoffed and leaned against the railing beside him.
"Robin, even with you at less than half your capacity, we have a better chance at winning this war with you than we do without," Chrom said truthfully and glanced at him. "That is, unless you really do want to retire. If that's the case, then I-"
"Of course not!" Robin interrupted vehemently. "I want to see this through till the end just as much as you do!"
Robin hung his head, his shoulders slumping.
"I just don't want to hold you back."
"As if that could happen," Chrom chuckled, surprising him. "I don't know if you realize this Robin, but you're just as much the leader of this army as I am. Not only do you lead our troops, but you inspire them. Maybe even more than I."
Robin snorted and shook his head.
"Are you kidding me? You're the one that always knows what to say, my friend. You're the one that gives the inspirational speeches. I'm just the brains behind that heart."
"You see?" Chrom smiled at him. "Each and every one of us are integral to the army. We all have our rolls that we play. If you were to leave, our strength would only lessen. We are stronger together than we ever could be alone."
Robin stared long and hard at Chrom, his eyes searching his. When all that Robin could see was honesty staring back at him, he turned away.
"Fiiine," Robin relented without much of a fight. "You win. As long as I don't slow you guys down, I'll stay on as tactician."
"Good," Chrom grinned, only for it to falter moments later. "But, there's something else that you said that's bothering me… you don't 'deserve' to be tactician? What did you mean by that?"
Robin's eyes widened, his heart jumping into his throat. He had completely forgotten that he had said that!
"Oh, that?" Robin laughed awkwardly, wincing when it caused the pain to flare. "It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Robin, that's not going to work. I know you well enough to not fall for that."
Robin swallowed. Why did he have to go and say that? Why didn't he keep that part in his damn head like he thought he had?
Oh, Gods, why did he say that?
"…Don't ask me that."
Chrom frowned and rose an eyebrow.
"What are you going on about? You're the one that said it. There must be some reason you believe it had any merit."
"I-I know what I said," Robin stammered. "But, my mind's a mess right now and it just kind of slipped. So, I'm asking you. Don't ask me that. Please."
Chrom's brow twitched. If anything, Robin had only made him more worried, and more confused.
"You saying that doesn't make it go away. If anything, it only makes me more worried."
Robin let out a deprecating laugh, catching the exalt off guard.
"Believe me, you of all people don't want to hear this."
"Well, you've really backed yourself into a corner because now I feel I need to hear it if it involves me," Chrom said seriously.
Robin bit his lip and clamped his eyes shut. The longer he talked, the further hole he dug himself.
He was so scared to actually admit it out loud, but part of him longed for the chance to get it off his chest. He didn't know if his wounded state lowered his inhibitions, or if he actually really did want to get it off his chest, but he could feel the dreaded words sit anxiously on his tongue, just waiting to be released.
"Robin… It's me. You can tell me-"
"I've lost my objectivity."
"Huh?" Chrom blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I voluntarily walked into my own demise today, and all because I lost eye sight of… her. I abandoned my post and ran off looking for her because her wellbeing mattered more to me above all else," he explained in regret. "Look where that left me."
"Wait, wait, slow down here. Who is' 'her?' Do you mean Lucina?"
"…Yeah."
"So?" Chrom shrugged. "You put yourself in harm's way to protect my daughter. I can't fault you for that. I think we'd both rather the results were different, but what you did today is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I should be thanking you."
"You don't understand," Robin sighed. "I've put her above everything, Chrom. Above myself, above the Shepherds, above everything. I put her above all else today, and I can't even assure you I won't do it again."
Chrom tilted his head to the side, his eyes murky with thought as he registered each and every one of Robin's words.
"…What are you saying?"
Robin faced Chrom with a sad smile.
"That I'm in love with your daughter."
Whatever Chrom had prepared himself to say died on his tongue. His mouth hung open dumbly, while his eyes threatened to pop out of his skull.
After a few seconds of insufferable silence, Chrom closed his mouth and swallowed. He opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out. He repeated this process a few times before a single word could finally make its way out.
"What?"
"I love her, Chrom," Robin whispered somberly, resting his forehead in his hands. He hurt like hell, and he'd probably fall over if not for the railing, but he didn't care. "I love her so much that I can barely operate. I can't sleep, I can't think. Like this itch I can't scratch, she's always in the back of my mind."
Robin was painfully aware of his voice cracking and how pitiful he looked right now, but he continued on anyways. He was afraid that if he stopped now, he might never continue again, and he wanted to say what he needed to say before Chrom could speak.
"You can see why I don't think I deserve this job anymore. I've lost it, Chrom… I've lost it."
Robin looked down at himself. He couldn't see his wounds thanks to his now blurred vision, but that didn't matter. He could still feel them.
"So, go ahead. Hit me. Throttle me. Do what you need to; I won't hold it against you.
Having said what he needed to, Robin dared to look over at the father of the woman he loved.
Chrom watched him silently with a sad look on his face.
The lack of anger on his friend's face genuinely surprised him. Was he not disgusted with him? Did he not want to absolutely eviscerate him right now? He expected at least a punch, but all Chrom was throwing at him right now was pity.
"Robin," Chrom began painfully slowly. "Sweet Naga, this has to be the strangest day of my life. I… I truly don't know what to say."
Well, that's not surprising.
"But," Chrom continued, shocking Robin. "I can say this: wanting to protect someone you love doesn't make you a failure."
Chrom sighed and looked out to the port town, the moon reflecting off of his bright blue eyes.
"Don't you remember? I was in your same shoes not so long ago."
Robin's eyes widened in realization. How could he have forgotten?
"Back when Emm was captured, I was willing to do anything to get her back," he said. "I was even willing to lay down my own life if it meant I could save hers…"
And yet again, this man who Robin had once thought he had all figured out, surprised him once again.
Chrom turned to him with a genuine smile on his face. He reached out, giving Robin's good shoulder a squeeze.
"Wanting to protect the ones you love… that does not make you a failure. That makes you human."
"Chrom…"
"And, if that person you love is…"
Chrom cut himself off before finishing that sentence. He cleared his throat before continuing.
"Well, who am I to stand in the way?"
"…What?" Robin asked in disbelief.
"Is what I said really that surprising?" Chrom frowned.
"Yes!"
"I mean… is it weird as hell? Yes. Does it creep me out? Of course. Do I like it? Gods, no."
Robin's expression fell. That was more in line with the reaction he had been originally expecting.
"But," Chrom sighed deeply. "You're both adults. I don't control either of you… and if you can make her happy, what kind of father would I be to disapprove?"
"Chrom… are you serious?"
"Yeah. I really am," Chrom nodded. "But, know this. If you hurt a single hair on that head, and I mean one, single hair, you're going to wish that you really did walk into your demise today."
Robin swallowed, a shiver running up his spine. He was used to Chrom's playful threats whenever they bickered, but this was something else entirely. He was being painfully serious. There was no joking about it.
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-yes."
"Good. Well, do you feel better, then?"
"Actually, yeah," Robin replied. "I gotta tell you, that's a huge weight off my shoulders"
"Just don't come to me looking for advice, okay? Or talk to me about it at all, in fact," Chrom added and glanced over at him. "I'd rather not give tips to my best friend on how to court my daughter. This is strange enough as it is."
"I think that can be arranged," Robin laughed, then cradled his ribs as the pain came screaming back. "Ow…"
"Damn, I nearly forgot!" Chrom exclaimed and reached out to his friend, his hands hesitating in midair. "Come on, we should get you back."
"Hold your horses," Robin groaned and shooed him away. "This'll probably be the only time I'm able to walk around on my own. Give me at least a few more minutes before I reside to my doom."
"Maribelle will definitely not be pleased," Chrom agreed, trying not to wince himself. He remembered his own lecture when he tried to train the day after a muscle sprain. It wasn't pretty.
"Do your 'best friend' a favor, would you? She'll probably be awake any second. Go tell her I went to the bathroom and that I'll be right back."
"You want to lie to her after you disobeyed your ordered bedrest?"
"Yeah."
"Fair enough. I suppose a little white lie is better than getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar."
"Exactly."
"Just don't go anywhere, okay?" Chrom said as he made his way to the stairs. "And when Maribelle inevitably finds out, you're taking the blame."
"Yeah, yeah," Robin mumbled and waved him off, his eyes now on the full moon above.
Chrom chuckled and shook his head. It always surprised him how quickly Robin could bounce back to his usual self after everything was said and done. He was truly appreciative of that trait in this instance, as it always did a good job of avoiding any awkward silences.
The exalt was feeling surprisingly chipper, all things considered. The equivalent of a bomb had just been dropped on him, but he actually didn't feel all that bad about it. Robin was a good guy, and Lucina deserved to be happy more than anyone he knew. If they were meant to be together, then so be it. He could live with it, even if it rubbed him the wrong way in every way, shape, and form.
Chrom kept on thinking happy, uplifting thoughts right up until he stopped in front of the stairs that led to the deck below.
There, standing completely still with a wool blanket in her hands, was none other than his daughter, Lucina.
"Good evening, Father. I-I thought you might get cold," Lucina smiled sweetly and handed him the blanket. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night."
Before he could even hope to say anything to stop her, Lucina turned on her heel and bolted out of there, leaving her father standing there holding the blanket she had given him.
Somewhere not too far away…
The old innkeeper leaned against the wall behind him, his hands occupied with cleaning one of his many tankards as he looked around his establishment.
It was a quiet night tonight; which would be considered strange with everything that's happened. With the war going on, the number of travelers had skyrocketed. Thousands of Valm's people became refugees. Many had to leave their homes simply to avoid becoming the citizens of an occupied town, or even worse, to avoid death herself.
Those refugees brought the innkeeper a lot of business. His inn was the only one around for miles, as well as the only one that was somewhat close to the Mila Tree. All things considered, this war was good for the innkeeper. He was out far enough where he didn't have to worry about the silly fighting, but close enough to reel in those that needed a roof over their heads for a night.
That was the truth of the matter, but it left the innkeeper with a sour taste in his mouth. His business was supposed to be a place for friends to wet their tongue after a long travel. It wasn't meant to house families who had lost it all. It was truly heartbreaking, but unfortunately, he wasn't in the position to give these people a roof free of charge. He needed the money to keep this place up and going.
So, yes. It was odd that he had so little customers today. The only two that had come in all day were this young man and his lady friend.
The innkeeper eyeballed the two as they ate their dinner. They were a strange couple, to say the least. The black-haired boy appeared to be a performer of some sorts, as he kept shouting the strangest things. The auburn-haired girl that was with him scolded him every time he did so, which never failed to elicit a chuckle out of the old man. Ah, young love.
The door to the inn busted open, nearly causing the innkeeper to jump out of his skin.
Much to his surprise, it was a young girl that came walking in, her short blue hair bouncing on her shoulders with each springy step she took. The innkeeper was slightly taken back at first. Blue hair was such an odd hair color to have…
The young woman, who couldn't have been any older than his fifteen-year-old granddaughter, also had on what had to be the strangest outfit he had ever seen. It was this black and purple cloak that went down to her feet, with an eerie string of eyeballs that went up and down her arms. The design creeped him out more than it surprised him.
"Good day, sir," the young girl smiled brightly at him as she set down at the bar the innkeeper manned. "Do you have anything back there to wet my whistle? Something that's preferably free?"
"I have water."
"Perfect!"
The innkeeper quirked an eyebrow at the odd girl while he poured her a glass from his saved well water.
"Here," he said and handed it to her.
Finishing it in one single gulp, the girl slammed her glass on the counter and wiped her mouth.
"Thanks a million," she sighed in relief. "I was nearly dying of thirst."
"Of course," the innkeeper nodded and took the glass away. "Anything else I can do for you, lass?"
"Yeah, actually, there is," the girl said and scooted forward in her seat. "I'm looking for someone. My father, in fact. Maybe you've seen him?"
"Well, I might have," the innkeeper mumbled and rubbed his beard. "I see a lot of people nowadays. Have a name?"
"Robin. If it helps, he should look a lot like me, but has white hair. He's probably even wearing the same clothes."
The innkeeper placed a hand to his chin and gave the girl a once over.
"Sorry lass, can't say anyone by that name rings a bell," he replied with an apologetic smile. "I think I'd remember someone dressed like that."
"Damn," the girl hung her head and sighed. "Man, I'll never find him at this rate. I was so sure he would be here! Did I make a miscalculation somehow? Maybe I should have-?"
The innkeeper's eyes softened as listened to the defeated ramblings of the poor girl. Someone so young and so full of energy shouldn't have to scour the lands for her father. This damnable war had already ruined too many families, why did it have to ruin another?
"You might have some luck if you look for him around the Mila Tree," the innkeeper told her. "Many of the refugees make a pilgrimage to the tree before they settle down somewhere, in hopes that they might hear The Voice speak. There could be a chance your father is there."
"Really?!" the girl exclaimed and jumped out of her seat. "Where is this 'Mila Tree?!'"
"It's north of here" he replied. "Probably a week or so away on foot."
"I better get moving, then! Thanks mister!"
"No problem, lass. But, you should know that-!"
Before he could explain to the girl that the Mila Tree was most likely surrounded by soldiers, she had run out of his establishment.
"Damn kids," the innkeeper grumbled and rubbed his neck. Well, it's not like he could fault her. He'd probably do the same in her shoes.
Not long after her departure, his other two customers jumped up too.
"Come on, Owain!" the auburn shouted and dragged him to the entrance.
"The Scion of Darkness is always prepared for-" the kid yelped when his girlfriend's tugging nearly caused him to trip. "S-Severa, you don't have to drag me!"
"Did you not hear that girl?" Severa grouched and turned to face her friend. "We've got to follow her."
Owain fumbled for something to say, causing his friend to groan and stomp her foot.
"See, this is exactly why I have to drag you along. While you're lost in your own little head, I'm the only one paying attention!"
"Hey, I was thinking up special moves for the both of us!"
Severa rolled her eyes and snatched his hand back up, then pulled him rather forcefully out of the inn, the young boy whining all the way.
The innkeeper watched it all unfold with a blank expression on his face. After a few seconds, he shrugged and went back to his work.
"Good luck," he said to the now empty room as he cleaned another glass.
And there you have it!
So, before this chapter, the pacing of this story had been steadily moving along, if not a little slowly. I decided to throw all of that out the window with this chapter. Let's get this ball rolling.
I thought about simply ending the chapter on the reveal of Lucina standing there, but then I thought "how can I make this even better?" So, I thought I'd throw in a little tidbit about everyone's favorite daddy's girl, along with her newfound sidekicks. We're getting there! I don't know when I'll throw in the little rascals, but it shouldn't be long now. And yes, there's an explanation for while they're all in Valm. That'll be explained later.
I also thought I'd mix things up a bit with that Chrom and Robin scene. I've always been curious about what would happen if Chrom found out first, so screw it, here we are. Personally, I don't think Chrom would really care THAT much if his adult daughter shacked up with his best bud. Like, yeah, I doubt he'd be pleased, but the dude basically worships the ground Robin stands on. I don't think it'd be too far-fetched for him to give his blessing. Plus, he's a reasonable guy. He wouldn't immediately veto it just because of his own feelings on it.
Also, just to add some clarity to last chapter, saying Robin developed PTSD from his events is a bit of a stretch at the moment. Something like that takes more time to develop. It was definitely something akin to that, but I wouldn't say it was exactly like that. That's just my thoughts on it all. But, it is something I'm going to think about, and something I'll bring back later on.
Anyhow, just thought I'd give you all a little insight to my thought process with this chapter. Hope you all liked it!
See you next time!