Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. Except for the really weird stuff. Those parts are probably me.
Robin was not fond of horses.
Sully's horse always looked like it was plotting something nefarious and snapped at her whenever she got too close. Quicksilver had made it clear early on that she did not prefer to spend time among the riffraff and, much like Frederick, seemed to view Robin with unwavering suspicion.
As for Sumia's abomination with wings, well, the less said about Snow Drop, the better. Although hell and spawn were what Robin heard whenever Sumia gushed about her pegasus by name.
So it was with trepidation that she approached the stables once she'd learned that they'd be traveling by horse. Something about speed being of the essence. Honestly, she'd been too preoccupied trying to comfort Lissa while wresting with all the wet laces on her gown to pay proper attention to the messenger.
A decision she was regretting mightily at the moment.
Lissa, being neither riffraff nor edible, was greeted warmly by most of the horses. At least they sounded happy to Robin.
As far as horses could sound happy, she supposed.
She stared at the doors before her. It was statistically impossible that every horse in the stable would be plotting her downfall or waiting for her to suddenly betray Chrom, thus triggering the first set of horses to commence with their plans.
So why did she feel as though her legs had turned to iron right along with her lungs?
It wasn't like they really needed her. After all, from what little she'd heard, this sounded like a dispute between Plegia's king and Ylisse's Exalt.
Right. Which meant she could—
"Robin, you came."
The warmth in his voice melted the iron just enough for her to turn. The moonlight reflected in his eyes rendered her cowardly retreat null and void.
Darn it.
The tip of her nose started to tingle, but her legs were no longer frozen and she could finally breathe.
A lady keeps her promises. Robin sighed, not sure which one of them she was reminding.
Chrom's smile froze, and he cleared his throat rather unconvincingly.
Robin narrowed her eyes. Chrom, you are not going to tell me that you still haven't resolved your idiotic notions about me after I wore that gown I was tricked into, after I allowed all manner of paint to be slathered on my face, and—
He gripped her gently by the shoulders, and his gaze both softened and intensified as if all the world around them had disappeared and he would never look away from her again.
"Robin, I—" Unaccountably, Chrom's cheeks darkened. His mouth moved for a moment before he shook his head. He took a deep breath and leaned closer, but before Robin could question his sudden need to whisper, Frederick strode up from behind her.
"I've readied Trueheart for you, Milord. As for you, Robin, we had not yet had cause to take measure of your riding skills, but I can assure you that Lovely Carrot's temperament is gentle and easily handled by even the most novice among us."
It wasn't until Frederick shook his hand impatiently that Robin realized he has handing her the reins.
Or trying to.
No matter how hard she willed it, she couldn't unclench her fists. And even if she'd managed to do that, there was still the issue of raising her arm and—
Frederick frowned at her. "You have ridden before, haven't you?"
Robin dearly wanted to remind Frederick that amnesia made little things like remembering anything that had happened prior to Chrom finding her in the field a little impossible, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Lovely Carrot's face.
There was an awful lot of it, and why was it looking at her like that? The horse was hungry, wasn't it?! And, wow! Were all horses' teeth that big?! They were large enough to bite a person in half!
Robin shuddered as the ghostly feeling of horse teeth closing around her middle pinched uncomfortably—
It was moving! Coming closer!
It was . . . sniffing her! Why was it sniffing her?!
"Milord, perhaps this is one mission where we might not need the guidance of a tactician."
Chrom sighed as he rested a hand on her shoulder and the other on her opposite arm.
Wait. When had he gotten so clo—
Thoughts of their proximity flew from Robin's mind as she backed into Chrom. Lovely Carrots, no longer content with sniffing her arm, moved to whuffle Robin's hair.
"I want to trust in Emm's goodness, Frederick. I want to believe the mad king will be persuaded to both peace and reason. But as Prince of the Halidom, it is my duty to ensure we are prepared in the event our greatest fears are realized."
"And so we shall be, Milord, provided our tactician does not die of fright before we've even left Ylisstol."
"Die of fri—Robin?" Chrom nudged Lovely Carrot's head away from her so he could turn her around to face him. He put a hand to her cheek, brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
Now that the horse was no longer in biting distance—Lovely Carrots my foot!—Robin's muscles thawed just enough for her to move her hands.
Fine. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Never been better. Just peachy. She shoved her hands into her pockets when it became clear she was in no state of mind to do anything beyond babbling.
"I suppose she could ride with me." Frederick's tone and expression indicated that this idea was as welcome as falling in a mud puddle before tromping through a bog on his way to high tea.
The feeling was mutual.
Double mutual, if one took Quicksilver's feelings into account.
Which was precisely why she should present a different plan. A better plan.
I'm fine. Really. I've gotten a lot stronger since becoming a Shepherd, and I am completely all right with getting there under my own power.
Chrom blinked at her, but she could feel Frederick's gaze boring a hole in the back of her head.
"As talented as you are, Robin, I highly doubt you can outrun a horse."
Robin could almost hear Quicksilver agreeing with her master.
She gave Chrom a weak smile. I'm happy to try.
"Captain, the Exalt and her escorts are ready," Stahl said, leading his horse over to them. "We're just waiting on Vaike and the three of you."
Chrom took the reins from Frederick and gently guided Robin toward the horse. "See, Robin? There's nothing to be afraid of." Lovely Carrots nuzzled its face against his hand. "It'll just take a little time for you to get used to each other, but before you know it, you'll be fast friends."
From the way her heart hammered and her muscles had turned to stone, Robin highly doubted that.
Besides, she had a rule that she never intended on breaking: never make a pet of, or friends with, something that had even the slightest chance of eating her.
That went triple for anything that had four legs, hooves, and a tail.
Frederick sighed. "I'll resaddle Quicksilver. We should be on our way after that."
"No. You're too valuable as both a vanguard and as a scout. Resaddle Trueheart." Chrom handed off the reins to Stahl. "Do you mind seeing to this one?"
"Sure thing, Captain." Stahl accepted the reins. He gave Robin a reassuring smile. "I've got a spare muffin somewhere or other if you're hungry. Eating always seems to settle my nerves."
Robin could only smile back in gratitude that he was taking the potential tactician-eating creature away.
"Milord, are you sure that's wise? There are others who could—"
"I'm certain."
"Very well."
Robin waited until Frederick was out of view before she turned to Chrom. I'm sorry. I don't know, but—I'm sorry.
To her surprise, he didn't look angry or annoyed. If anything, he looked amused.
"To be truthful, it comes as a relief to know you have fears like the rest of us." A smile played at the corner of his lips, but Chrom managed to keep his expression serious.
Shame burned in her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. It was a miracle in and of itself that he was so trusting. So understanding. It was tempting to believe his patience could last forever, but nothing ever did. Sooner or later, everything turned to ashes and dust. She would have to be careful—work harder—to gain control over anything that could threaten that.
If I present a potential risk to the success of the mission, then I should remain here.
"Robin, I need you on this mission with me." Chrom frowned into the distance. "The King of Plegia is not to be trusted, nor should he be underestimated. We go, hoping for peace, but we must be prepared in the event that he pushes for war."
Would he really do that? Memories of blue lines burning their way across an entire country were as crisp and clear as if she held the maps in her hands. Surely they would not have had time to rebuild. To recover. She frowned at her boots as her mind calculated the horrific tally of lives that must have been lost. Your father was a very thorough man.
Chrom didn't say anything, save for the storm brewing in his brow. And, too late, Robin remembered to whom she was speaking. The scars of that war had to be long and deep, and they were not relegated only to those who had entered the battlefields.
Robin went up on her tiptoes and brushed her fingers against his cheek to catch his attention. She wanted to reassure him. To promise there would be no war. That the King of Plegia would listen to reason, to goodness, because how crazy could a person be?
But looking into his eyes, dark with memories, she found she couldn't lie. Not to him.
I will be by your side for as long as you'll have me.
Chrom's eyes widened and he seemed to be searching for something in her face.
"Milord."
He glanced over her shoulder and grinned. "It's a relief to hear you say that, because we're ready."
Robin stiffened as she heard the soft sounds that came in on the edges of her nightmares. Her heart and hands went cold as she felt a presence come from behind that loomed so far above her.
Chrom squeezed her shoulder. "Robin, I'm going to mount so I can help you swing up behind me." He gently pried his tunic from her fingers.
She closed her eyes as he stepped around her. All she could hear was a rush of air, the sound of her heartbeat throbbing at her temples. The pressure building in her head intensified until she was sure it was going to explode with it.
Then all fell silent.
The sun.
It was shining warm and bright as she walked along a road that hopefully led to a town.
Anticipation tingled in her fingertips.
A phantom pain radiated through her limbs.
Fear dogged her footsteps.
Across the way, shadows pulled away from the trees. Congealed together until a magnificent steed watched her from beneath the branches.
No breeze stirred the air.
No sunlight dappled across its ebony flanks.
And then it shifted, and she caught a glimpse of its rider.
She reached down to catch fistfuls of her coat. She was standing right here. But she was also over there. A smile sharp as a blade on her face as she kneed the horse into a cantor . . .
Everything disappeared then, as a wall of starless night raced toward her.
The weight in Chrom's arms was both strangely familiar and comforting.
To say that Robin had a fear of horses was to understate the fact. While she had avoided Quicksilver and the other horses, she hadn't ever even hinted that they terrified her. If he had known her fears ran this deep, he never would have insisted she accompany them.
But by then her muscles had gone as rigid as if she'd frozen solid. It was only after Lissa administered something that was supposed to sooth and relax her that they managed to get Robin into the saddle at all.
Of course, by that time she hadn't been exactly conscious, but Lissa had assured him the effects of the potion should wear off soon. Which was why they'd pressed on. Too much time had already been lost.
Apparently soon encompassed the five stops where they'd exchanged their exhausted mounts for fresh ones, the setting of the moon, and the rising of the sun. Lissa had checked her each time, but found nothing amiss.
Spurred on by the urgency of the situation, they'd foregone any stops that hadn't been absolutely necessary. From the position of the sun, he estimated they'd reach the border between Themis and Plegia right around the time it reached its zenith.
Yet despite the gravity of the situation, he felt a warmth and lightness swelling in his chest. He might not have declared his intentions as clearly as he would have liked, but it had been a start.
And she had leaned into him.
By all rights, he should have been dead in the saddle. But having her right there in his arms made him feel as though he'd never know exhaustion again. He would have rested his cheek against her head, but Frederick had surpassed wary the moment they'd left the stables.
So Chrom had focused on his breathing and reminded himself that, despite Frederick's misguided zeal, he meant well. Although what impropriety they could commit while tearing across Ylisse on horseback, surrounded by the rest of the Shepherds and Emm's escort, Chrom had yet to work out.
So he'd shut out as many wary looks as he could, and he'd allowed himself to dream.
To imagine a time in the very near future when propriety would no longer be offended by Robin resting in his arms.
Or by his delighting in the fact.
Emm would give her blessing. In many ways, she already had. And Lissa had practically already adopted her. His little sister didn't frog just anyone.
The only one who might object was Frederick, and even he had to admit things had run smoother, better, since they'd found Robin. And despite his overprotective nature, he wasn't incapable of seeing reason.
Probably.
It wasn't until they'd crested the rise that would lead to Themis that Robin began to stir. Chrom let out a breath he'd been holding since all the way back in Ylisstol.
"Robin," he murmured into her ear as she shifted just enough to be on the verge of waking. "I've got you. You're safe. And we're almost there."
She tipped her head back and blinked up at him, her eyes still cloudy with sleep. But they were clearing fast, and he knew the moment she'd woken up enough to remember.
"If you can, just focus on me. It . . . wouldn't be a good idea to panic right now."
Robin remained stiff in his arms, but managed to nod. She pressed her face into his chest and held onto him tight enough that propriety was shocked, scandalized, and appalled.
"Themis is just up ahead, and once we pass through the city, only a league or two left and we'll be at the border." Then, because she seemed to be listening, he told her about all the places they'd passed on the way here. His hopes and fears for Ylisse. Anything that came to mind, really.
While she wasn't relaxed in any form of the word, she had kept her ear tilted toward him. So he kept talking in the hope that, perhaps, he might take her mind off the present and ease her fears somewhat.
And then find some way to make this up to her.
It wasn't long before they were galloping through the denser parts of Themis. The roads were fairly empty, and it wasn't hard to see why. The whole eastern quarter looked as though it had been put to the torch. Though they'd passed it at some distance, the scent of smoke clogged the air.
Chrom tightened his grip on the reins. How many homes, how many Ylissean lives would it take before the madness leading Plegia would be sated well enough for them both to get back to rebuilding and reforming shattered lives?
It took all his willpower not to urge his steed to go faster.
Emm was suing for peace, and he wasn't about to let anything sabotage her efforts—be it madness or impatience. Justice would have her day, but for now, they needed to save Maribelle and protect Themis.
They stopped a league before the border.
"We should have a plan before going in."
Despite Robin's fears, she had agreed with him when he'd asked her opinion.
His sister sighed. "We will reason with King Gangrel and clear up any misunderstandings that may have arisen."
"Seems like there was one he—heck of a misunderstanding in the eastern quarter," Sully said. She glared at Frederick who had given her a look of warning.
Emm sat taller in her saddle. "We will send aid to those who have been affected. I know that this will only complicate relations between our two countries, but no amount of reparations demanded will be able to bring life back to the dead—and it is the living to whom we must look after."
Robin elbowed Chrom in the midsection. Let me use your spyglass. You do have one, don't you? They're supposed to be standard issue.
"My spy—oh." Embarrassment burned the tips of his ears. "In the rush, I'm afraid I only grabbed the essentials."
She crooked her mouth to the side before giving him a wan smile. So all you brought was Falchion and the Shepherds then?
"You know me well," he said, laughing.
Then ask Frederick for his.
"His what?" Frederick had somehow managed to maneuver Quicksilver until he'd arrived at Chrom's side.
"Robin needs a spyglass."
Frederick raised a brow. He dismounted long enough to extract his spyglass from his saddlebags. "At this distance, I don't imagine you'll be able to make out much of the details."
Robin nodded as she accepted it. I don't need the details. I just need to see the lay of the land. Please schedule an appointment with Miriel. She could help with this.
Frederick frowned. "With what?"
You have an appointment book don't you?
"Yes."
There you go. Robin pulled out the ends of the spyglass, elongating the metal tube. She shifted around a bit before putting it to her eye.
"Milord."
Chrom resisted the impulse to tease Frederick. From the expression on his face, he had even less patience than usual. "We can discuss everything after we've rescued Maribelle."
Robin continued to shift her position as she looked through the spyglass. She sighed a few times before folding it back in and handing it to Frederick with a hastily sketched thank you.
"I am happy to see you've overcome your sudden terror of horses." Frederick tucked the spyglass into a small side pocket on his saddlebags.
"Frederick," Chrom sighed.
Robin, who had been scratching something into one of her books paused.
No, I'm afraid I still abhor them.
Frederick raised a brow, none of his suspicions allayed. "From the outside, anyone would say you seem to be faring much better than you were before."
Robin blew on the page before snapping her book shut and stowing it into one of her pockets. Yes, but that's because of Chrom.
Even the little look of triumph Frederick shot him couldn't dampen the sudden happiness humming in Chrom's heart. Perhaps he'd conveyed himself better than he thought.
"So you admit you have designs upon Milord."
Robin stared at him a beat longer than necessary. It's more a matter of reputation than design. This is Chrom we're talking about. Bane of Battle Dummies, Scourge of Non-Falchion Weaponry. The one who keeps the castle blacksmiths and leatherworkers busy eleven days out of ten.
"I fail to see how that applies," Frederick said at the same time Chrom started to protest his innocence, thought the better of it, and then closed his mouth.
I don't have any memory of actually getting on the horse. Either my amnesia's getting worse, or I was more preoccupied than usual. Regardless, here we are, leagues upon leagues from Ylisstol, and I'm still in one piece. Since it wasn't the horse's doing, I can only credit Chrom.
Despite the Frederick-shaped storm that was brewing, Chrom couldn't help but smile. This was one instance where he would happily take full responsibility.
Robin shrugged. Chrom trumps horse. It's as simple as that. Also, we should get moving. The Plegians look antsy, and the deadline's nearly upon us.
"A notion I heartily agree with," Emm said from where she'd been watching their conversation.
A blush burned itself across Chrom's face when he noticed that everyone had drawn into a circle around them, and more than a few Shepherds were giving him pointed grins. Robin's gestures tended to be larger and far more exaggerated when she wanted to drive home a particular point, so they wouldn't have had much trouble seeing what she was saying.
"Right," Phila said, snapping to attention. "How would you like to proceed, Your Grace?"
"I believe it would be best if I led the way." Emm gave Chrom an apologetic look, finely laced with her own kind of stubborn. "The Shepherds shall act only as silent witnesses, and shall move forward only if we fall under direct attack."
She makes it difficult to protect her, doesn't she? Robin asked, her movements small enough that only someone paying attention would have noticed she'd spoken at all.
Chrom choked on a laugh. While he wished the situation was different, it was nice that Robin was gaining a small appreciation for how he felt in regard to her.
They waited until Emm and her escort were in position before the Shepherds formed two tidy lines behind her. Emm nodded to Phila, who gave the signal for them all to advance.
They rode in silence for a time before Robin nudged him.
I wasn't always afraid of horses. Robin shook her head as she stared at something only she could see. I'd just forgotten that I am, along with the reason why. It wasn't until we were standing there, waiting, that I started to remember.
"Wait, you're starting to remember? That's wonderful, Robin!" To his surprise, she wasn't smiling. Her lips were pursed, her eyes dark. "Er, I mean—"
Robin twisted around and put a finger to his lips. Who I was—what I was—before isn't your fault, Chrom. If a few odd phobias are the price of my past, then I shall consider myself lucky.
Her eyes gleamed a little too bright, but she turned back around before he could be sure. The sniffle, however—
"I may not have known you then, but I know you now, Robin, and your heart is good and true. You have my faith because of who you are. Forgetting your past, yourself, would not have fundamentally changed that." He wanted to curl his arms around her and just be. Her and him. And maybe, if she allowed, press a kiss about an inch lower than his first attempt. But Chrom was acutely aware of the sidelong glances they were receiving, and trespassing upon her unspoken fears seemed too intimate a thing to do in front of, well, everyone.
So he settled for patting her gently on the head.
Somewhere behind him, Sully snorted and Vaike started laughing.
"Awww," Lissa crooned. She didn't say anything else. She didn't have to.
If it had been anyone but Robin, Chrom would have preferred the frogs.
The man Robin assumed was King Gangrel stood with a woman drenched with venom on a little rise at the foot of the baby mountain.
It had been quickly decided that Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa would parley with the king. Robin wanted to object on the grounds of keeping the royal family of Ylisse safe and due to the large number of horses on the premise, but she held her peace. Chrom already looked more than a little torn, and she didn't wish to make an already difficult situation any harder.
Besides, she wouldn't be standing by idle. Chrom had wanted her to come along for a very good reason, so it was time she did her job.
First things first.
Lon'qu eyed her apprehensively as she approached him. Mindful of his need to avoid close contact, she stopped as far from him as she could while still being able to reach him.
After all, she was keeping a generous Lon'qu Distance between herself and all the mounts.
He accepted the slip of vellum, gingerly pinching it between a finger and thumb.
Now's the time to prove yourself. The second anyone makes an aggressive move toward them, your job is to get Lissa out of there and back to safety.
By which, I mean Ylisstol.
Understood?
He glanced at her briefly before nodding. "Understood."
Even though he'd not understand, Robin sketched her thanks, and then headed for Phila. The message was the same, only it instructed her to make off with Emmeryn.
The Pegasus Captain narrowed her eyes. "My orders come from the Exalt herself. I'll not gainsay her directives."
Peachy.
Well, the Exalt will no longer be in any position to issue any further directives, let alone breathe, if she's been run through. Do you really want to shoulder that responsibility?
Phila's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "You're going too fast for me to understand."
Robin blinked at her, and some of her temper dampened when she followed Phila's response to its logical conclusion.
"Ylisse needs her Exalt." Frederick had joined them at some point. "The Shepherds will take full responsibility should the subject of blame and responsibility arise."
"Very well." Phila nodded to both before returning to her pegasus.
Careful, Frederick. People may start to think you trust me, Robin signed with only a little more acid than the occasion called for.
"They would be right, if they were referencing your capacities as our tactician. It is when you act outside that capacity that I question your motives."
Temper painted her cheeks red, and if they hadn't been on an urgent mission to prevent a war from breaking out, Robin would have given him a little more than a piece of her mind. Even now, under what promised to be a blazing sun, she could feel the cold malice of that horse.
The terror curling in her gut as it raced toward her.
The horror of seeing her own face on the one riding the dark horse. That had been, perhaps the worst shock of all.
In an effort to distract herself, she turned on her heel and went back to planning. Emmeryn's demand for peace and fear of war was slowly, but surely, going to leave Ylissean's collectively unable to defend themselves.
War was less an agreement, and more an inevitability once one party decided it should be so. And madness never would see reason.
Which was why she had a position among the Shepherds.
Speaking of, a few of the more curious had wandered over.
"It's good to see you up and walking around." Sumia dropped down beside her, a handful of wilted stems clutched in her fist.
Robin almost hated to ask, How go the flower fortunes?
Sumia sighed. "Honestly, it could go either way. For now, though, I'm just going to trust in Ylisse. In us."
Good plan. A few more swishes of her quill, and the second counter offensive was complete. Emmeryn had nearly reached the point from which they'd agreed she'd parley. Was there time to draft a third?
"You really think that's going to be necessary?" Sully asked, gesturing to her book.
Robin smiled at Sumia. It could go either way, but I like to be prepared.
Truthfully, while she was cognizant of why Emmeryn stood where she did on the issues of war and peace, the problem wasn't going to go away of its own accord. If Plegia didn't officially rise up against Emmeryn, her own people would, given enough time. Especially along the border.
It's a good thing they had the Shepherds.
"Robin," Frederick looked grim, "there is something you should see."
After a brief debate with herself, she accepted the spyglass he'd handed her and magnanimously did not smack him over the head with it. The battle had been short, but bitter.
But all thoughts of Frederick's inability to trust her fled out of her head when she raised the glass to her eye.
The "Mad King" had been aptly named, and there was something about his companion that troubled her.
"No," Frederick raised her glass toward two specks that appeared further up the mountain, "up there."
Robin peered through the spyglass before pocketing it. Miniature dragons?
Then, because Frederick was giving her that look again, she pulled the spyglass out and stared through it some more.
"Wyverns." His frown deepened when she glanced over at him. "Plegia's version of a horse."
Ha! A horse with win . . . gs.
Horsefeathers!
Ice crackled in her veins, and it felt as if all the air had been drained away where she stood. Pressing her lips together, Robin grabbed Frederick's arm and dragged him over to where the royal family was cheerfully negotiating some sort of trade with a king one horse short of a belfry of wyverns.
Or, more accurately, Frederick allowed her to drag him over. She realized that the second he pulled up short and nearly wrenched her shoulder from its socket.
"Despite the threat we cannot approach yet," he murmured, his eyes on the Plegians. "Anything could tip the balance at this point."
Just as the King of Plegia declared the negotiations at an end, a small group of Plegian's charged toward Chrom and his sisters.
How about now?
Frederick nodded as he gave the reins over to his overprotective instinct.
They sprinted over, but Chrom had already dispatched the first to raise his ax against Emmeryn. "Stay back or you'll all suffer the same fate!"
Robin thumbed through her book, found the page with her counter offensives. Despite the unwelcome surprise of the wyverns, they still looked useable.
"Now that's a declaration of war if ever I've heard one," the king said, sunlight glinting off his teeth. "A big, messy war that shall spell the end of all Ylisseans!"
He laughed then, and it sounded exactly like what Robin thought a crazy, deranged wyvern would sound like.
Emmeryn paled as the king's companion sauntered over to where Maribelle was being held. "Chrom . . ."
Robin glared at Lon'qu and Phila as they swept off with their respective charges. Luckily for all of them there hadn't been any archers, but there were mages nearby.
"I assume you've got a plan," Chrom said, looking angrier than Robin had ever seen him.
She held out her book as the other Shepherds crowded around her. They'd go for the first counter offensive. It was simple and straightforward, which would give her a perfect opportunity to see how the wyverns were utilized in battle.
Your horses can make it up the slopes, correct? she asked Frederick.
He nodded, as did Sully and Stahl.
Excellent. We'll need to move fast to get Maribelle out of there.
Robin looked through the spyglass to mark Maribelle's exact position. She'd expected to see the noble putting up a lady-like fuss and confusing the Mad King's minions with multi syllabic words.
What she hadn't expected was a blur of something that seemed to be mostly composed of Hat throwing a Wind spell at the Mad King's companion. Before grabbing Maribelle's hand and running with her . . . further . . . up the . . . mountain.
Where more Plegians and those dratted wyverns were waiting for them.
Of all the—!
Why?!
Up! Why'd they have to run up!?
Screaming in silent frustration, Robin realized too late that she'd thrown the spyglass at them.
The Shepherds went completely still as she whirled around to face Chrom.
You told him he couldn't come. Please tell me you told him not to come!
"Slow down there," he said, the gravity of his expression completely undone by the laughter glimmering in his eyes. "Tell who he couldn't come?"
Ricken! He, or someone wearing his hat, just ran away with Maribelle deeper into the enemy's territory! With a horse! It was only because of Chrom's hand resting on her shoulder that Robin had the presence of mind not to throw her book at them as well.
As it was, she'd been shouting through her gestures, and accidentally smacked Frederick's spare spyglass he'd retrieved from his saddlebags out of his hand. It landed on the rocky ground with an accusatory crunching sound of the glass lenses shattering.
She stared down at the dented tube of metal, trying very hard not to picture the state of the one she'd thrown earlier.
Sorry, Frederick. You can take it out of my earnings. May I borrow your other glass? I promise I'll be careful—more careful—with it.
"Other glass?" Vaike scoffed. "How many of those things do you think—"
With a grim expression, Frederick handed her his extra spare spyglass.
She opened it with exaggerated care, and used it to mark where she hoped she'd be landing.
Right. She tucked it into her inner pocket. We're going with a modified Plan B.
Robin quickly paired the remaining Shepherds up.
Sully and Virion, take the western most path. Make sure you clear the area of any hidden soldiers.
Stahl and Miriel, follow the path on the right side. Mind the mages, and hit them before they hit you.
Frederick and Vaike, follow behind Stahl. Make sure you do a sweep to deal with any that might remain.
Sumia and Chrom, follow Sully, but fly along the west ridge instead. Be careful. This will put you closest to their captain. Take him out.
Kellam, five steps to the left. After, you'll follow the nearest path up.
Chrom blinked at her. "What about you?"
Robin sighed, grateful that Kellam had been standing next to her for most of the time. And, more importantly, that it was sunny.
I'm the modified part of the plan. Meet you there.
Then, before she could lose her nerve or Chrom could stop her, she aimed for the spot right between shadow and light on Kellam's armor.
The moment she found it, the light seemed to jerk her forward. Robin fixed the image of where she wanted to land in her mind before allowing it to sweep her away.
A confusion of sight and sound swirled in a perfect storm around her. Light bent, twisted, and corkscrewed, but it didn't break.
Ten breaths later, it vomited her out from between the shiny buckles on the robes of a very surprised mage. Robin cradled her tome as she rolled with the fall. Then extended her hand and dealt with the enemy.
Ha ha! She had done it! Light may not be her ally yet, but they had finally moved up to passing acquaintances.
"Robin." Maribelle eyed her with concern. "Are you all right? You have the most deranged look on your face."
"Wow, Robin! How'd you do that?" Ricken asked, his eyes nearly as large as his hat.
Ricken.
Robin glared at him. If you intend to disobey orders again in the future, kindly run away from the enemy's stronghold.
Ricken started to puff up with indignant defiance when Robin cut him a look that made him reconsider. Once she was certain he would comply without complaint, she nodded.
You owe Frederick two new spyglasses once we return to Ylisstol. Now both of you follow me and do what you can to defend yourselves.
"Fine." Ricken's sullen expression was mostly hidden under his hat. "Let me just grab Winter."
Robin froze. Of course. He'd not only run off in the wrong direction, but he'd brought along a horse as well. The creature's only saving grace at the moment was that its coat was a bright, clear white that might have been lovely if it had been anything less equine.
"Oh, good!" Maribelle declared with breathless ecstasy. "I've missed you so, my darling!"
To Robin's horror, the healer actually nuzzled her face against the horse's. She took a step back as she tried to force the fear away—
—Only to refocus when a spell singed her sleeve in passing. If the mage had had a better aim, she'd have been spending the next month or two regrowing her eyebrows.
Not something she wanted to repeat.
But it brought to mind the memory of the eastern quarter of Themis.
She faced the two Shepherds they'd come to rescue. We're going to empty this mountain of enemy combatants. Follow me.
While Robin might not agree with Emmeryn's conclusions, she couldn't fault her reasoning either. Reparations could never truly replace what had been lost. Demand too many of them, and you end up warring with each other anyway.
But right here, right now, she was going to ensure that the people of Themis had time to mourn in peace—and that there would be no further cause to mourn. At least for the time being.
An ax wielding soldier rushed toward her, the wyvern skull and skin he'd fasted to his head and across his shoulders grinning in an awful parody of its living counterparts.
Ricken shouted a warning, but Robin had already impaled the man with Thunder. His blackened fingers still twitched with her magic as she stepped past his corpse.
Anticipation. Anxiety. The exhilaration of a good plan executed well. All the emotions that usually stormed through her fell silent against the quiet rage that stood black as night within her heart.
Humans. Insignificant worms who gloried in slaying one another in their endless games of survival. Didn't they ever grow tired of it? Of the wails of those left behind? Of the fear rabbitting through their beings? Of the iron tainting the air from freshly spilled blood? Of shattered hearts and broken dreams?
What was the point of living if all you did was kill. And slaughter. And plunder that which you had no right to steal?
Robin punctuated each thought with a blast of Thunder.
If they held no value on life, then could their own lives hold any value in the end?
Perhaps that was why they'd turned on each other. Because they saw the emptiness of their existence. The hollow nature of the lies they'd told so often that they could believe nothing else.
Her rage intensified. Burned through grief. And left her with the silent ashes of exhaustion.
She just wanted to lie down. To close her eyes against the blight that was humanity. To end it all, and everything that followed.
"Robin!"
Ricken recoiled as she whipped around to face him. The fear in his eyes pushed back enough of her black apathy to recognize the Shepherd within the boy.
"Y-you've got to s-stop. Let the o-others take care of the r-rest."
Why? The question echoed with a savage edge that frightened her enough to push more of the darkness away.
"B-because," Ricken straightened, gaining courage, "you aren't you right now. And we can't lose you. Not now. Not ever."
She scoffed at him even as the faintest of flutters from her heart peered out through the night. They weren't going to lose her, couldn't he see that? In the end, she would be all that was left.
"Please listen to us, Robin." Maribelle had gone pale, and Ricken's fear was reflected in her own. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but we can—"
The sound of a wyvern screaming its victory right before it killed tore through everything. Robin's attention snapped to the two shapes in the sky.
Chrom.
Between one breath and the next, she seized the closest fiber of light that would bring her to him.
Her body lurched to a sudden stop as she landed with a bone crushing jolt on the back of something neither white nor soft—although it was likely just as fiendish.
And not a Chrom in sight.
There was, however, a Plegian captain.
He shouted his surprise, and then promptly tried to cleave her skull in two. Robin returned the favor, only with a Thunder delivered straight to his heart.
The force of the spell she'd driven through him nearly unseated her, and she scrabbled to grab ahold of anything to stop herself from falling. The wyvern, not insensible to the battle taking place on its back, screamed again and prepared to arrow up further into the sky.
The captain's body slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers as she blinked at him, uncertain. Then Robin's stomach swooped along with the wyvern, and she managed to catch hold of the reins before she was wrenched off its back.
A terror of such purity wrapped itself around her that everything went blank. She couldn't think. Couldn't plan. Couldn't act.
Every moment became the present as the past and the future stood frozen on either side of her. Squashing her flat. Compressing her existence into two bright points tangled in the reins.
The wyvern, perhaps driven to madness at the loss of its master, or mad from the beginning, pushed itself to its limits as it climbed up the sky. Then, with a scream that nearly shattered Robin's eardrums, it dropped in a tight spiral toward the ground.
The force of their velocity lifted her from the seat. Her legs streamed out behind her, and the only thing that kept her from being ripped away like a leaf caught in a gale were the bits of leather that made up the reins. Tears were pressed from her eyes even as the force from the air made it impossible for her to keep them open.
Pressure built up in her chest, made up of all the breaths she couldn't breathe. Her head had gone pale and white, each sensation crushing her ability to do more than flap like the most useless flag ever in the wake of the wyvern's descent.
A flash of silver appeared out of nowhere and buried itself in the wyvern's side. She could feel the point of contact. Feel the life of the wyvern slipping away.
Something caught hold of her foot, but by this time, Robin could do nothing but hope her end came quickly enough for her to stand a decent chance of overlooking it.
A voice shouted something. Her name perhaps? Something about needing to cut something away . . . ?
Her fingers twitched uselessly. The light was everywhere and nowhere. The shadows were buried too deep to offer any viable alternative. The scent of iron made her already unstable stomach clench—
—And then for one blissful moment, she slipped away from everything—before she was wrenched to one side and then crushed by a field of clover and sunlight that seemed to be whispering her name over and over until Robin finally remembered it herself.
Some dim, faraway part of her was glad she had found her way back. The beginning was where everything started after all . . .
Frederick was, by all accounts, a fairly patient man.
But one could only set up a tent so many times before the task was complete. Even accounting for the extras.
No matter how much he busied himself, the image of Chrom's face after Sumia had brought them down haunted his every movement.
The stick he'd been shaping for the fire he'd light later this evening snapped in his hands. He tossed the pieces away in disgust. This was to be their second and final day camping near the border.
"Hey there, Frederick!" Sumia greeted him warmly right before her foot caught on a rock he'd somehow missed.
It was but the work of a moment to catch her, but he failed to find the usual comfort this familiarity always brought.
"Are you all right?"
Sumia blushed prettily as she dusted herself off. "I'm right as rain, thanks to you."
He nodded, and the beginnings of a smile curled up the corners of his lips despite his dour mood. "It is always a pleasure to be of assistance."
"You're good at helping everyone," she said as she sat on the log beside him. She plucked a tiny flower from the ground and focused her attention on it while she twisted it through her fingers. "I wish I could be more like you."
"You have many fine qualities of your own," he reminded her, a little less annoyed than he'd been before.
"Ha." Sumia had laughed so faintly that Frederick would never have heard it if he had not spent much of the last fourteen years honing his hearing, thanks to Chrom and Lissa's penchant for sneaking off to find trouble.
Even Frederick had to admit that Chrom had outdone himself this time.
"You are unfailingly kind and generous, with a courage matched only by your heart."
Sumia's blush deepened. "Oh, s-stop it. You're making me sound like some kind of legendary hero or something."
Frederick sighed. The one thing he'd never understood was Sumia's inability to see or believe the good in herself. Then one summer, he had paid a visit to the lands her family owned.
It was easy to see where she got her genuine warmth from. The short time he'd spent with her family was one of his most treasured memories—save for the fact that Sumia had taken the habit of comparing herself to her older sister.
And never once had she found herself on the positive side of the scale.
A direct approach would only mire her deeper in her beliefs. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
She shrugged sharply. "Myself, I suppose."
He hummed his agreement before reaching over to untangle the flower stem from Sumia's fingers. "And how would you describe yourself?"
Sumia smiled brightly and moved to stand. "You know, I think I promised someone a blueberry pie. Thank you, by the way, for going to town for the blueberries."
"Sumia."
Her smile only faltered slightly. "I-is that an order, sir?"
"Only if it needs to be."
She sighed as she sat down and pressed her fists against her knees. "I'm just the girl who trips. The girl who thinks she can find the future in a few flower petals. The girl who makes mistakes and messes things up."
Her chin trembled, but she held the tears back by smiling wider.
Frederick wished they were back in Ylisse where he could, so long as he followed the proper protocol, cup her cheek in his hand and catch every stray tear that fell. He hated that she was hurting inside—especially as the things she believed about herself were absolute nonsense. But he could only open the door and show her the way. Whether she chose to walk through it was her decision to make.
Of course, it would have expedited things if he'd had blue hair, a royal brand, and the uncanny ability of being able to break things simply by entering the room.
"You only trip when you're nervous. And, if I am not mistaken, you've been a lot less nervous as of late." Frederick leaned in a little as if to share a secret. "Besides, believe me when I say that you have made nowhere near as many mistakes and messes as Milord and Milady."
"I'm nothing special," Sumia said, her gaze stubbornly aimed at her feet.
"A great number of us would beg to disagree. I wasn't complimenting you earlier. I was simply speaking the truth. And I'm not the only one who feels that way."
"Truly?"
He nodded. "You work very hard to make the Shepherds a family. Most of what you do won't ever been seen by others, but that doesn't make what you do any less important. Look at how you've eased Robin, Donnel, and even Lon'qu's transition into our fold. At least one of them would have been very lost were it not for your thoughtful care."
Pink flooded her cheeks, but she sat a little straighter. "They do seem happier now, don't they?"
"Very."
She nodded before taking a deep breath. "Do you think it would be—that is to say—would you mind terribly if maybe, sometimes, I helped you with the chores around the camp? You do more than any one person should be able to, and I—I want to contribute too."
Frederick smiled at her, pleased she'd noticed. So very few people did. Not that it bothered him. He could not rest in good conscience if he left even a single duty unfulfilled, but it was nice to be appreciated.
"I would be honored."
"Good." Sumia perked up a little bit more, although there was still a wariness about her that told him she wasn't finished with her questions, and that she'd led with the easy one.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Sumia bit her bottom lip, studying him from the corner of her eyes. "There is actually one thing you could do . . ."
"Then, if it is in my power to do so, I will do it."
"I'm glad to hear you say that." Sumia finally made eye contact with him, and Frederick had to admit that he would do anything she asked regardless.
It was a strange sensation, that feeling. Especially as it was in no way at all connected with his charges.
And yet the churning in his stomach warning him he'd just been ambushed was refreshingly familiar.
"I've tried talking to Robin, but she's being unusually stubborn."
Frederick snorted. Robin was ninety-five percent stubborn, with a generous helping of pig-headedness.
And those were her virtues.
"So that's why I'm coming to you, because you're the only other person who can help."
"I'm afraid you overestimate my abilities. I doubt Naga herself could soften Robin's stubborn streak." A little of his earlier ill-humor returned.
Sumia took another careful breath, and Frederick forced his scowl to retreat. No matter his mood, he didn't want to ever be the cause for her distress.
"The, um, unspoken words between the two of you are affecting everyone else, but even if they weren't, I'd still be asking for your help."
With conscious effort, Frederick managed to keep the grumble out of his tone. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
Sumia leaned toward him and put her hand on his. "Would you mind too terribly much just talking to her? I tried to ask her, but for some reason she doesn't think you'll listen to her. And with the wyvern thing and all, she's not supposed to get up much."
Frederick looked at their hands, and a warm kind of lightness filled his chest. Sumia wasn't asking him to gift wrap Robin and leave her next to the flap of Chrom's tent. He could talk to their impossible tactician. There were, after all, a great many things he wanted to say.
"I will speak with her," he promised.
"Oh good!" Sumia let out a breath, and all the stiffness went out of her posture. She reached into an oddly shaped pack she had strapped to her side. "Could you take this with you? Robin keeps mumbling something about blueberry pie, so I thought I'd bake her one."
Frederick narrowed his eyes as he accepted the pie. The aroma of the sweetness of summer enveloped him. "I thought you hadn't made it yet."
Sumia waved her hand. "Oh, you know. While I was making this one, Stahl wandered over. And by the time it had finished cooling, everyone but Lon'qu and the captain were requesting some to go with supper."
Despite his mission, he smiled at Sumia. "There, you see? You're always thinking of others."
"Oh, it's nothing. Just pies." She got to her feet. "Which I should get started on if I want to have them done by supper time."
Frederick stood as well. "And I have a mission to complete." He paused, wondering how far he could step while remaining within the bounds of propriety. "If you have them, cream with lemon zest and walnuts go well with this pie."
Sumia laughed. "We both have our missions! Thanks again, Frederick. I really appreciate it. And I'll see what I can do about the cream."
He nodded and watched her walk back toward the place they'd designated for cooking. She only stumbled once or twice, and didn't fall a single time. An odd sort of pride filled his heart.
He shook his head. He could bask in his feelings later.
The walk from the fire pit to the healer's tent was all at once too short, while being agonizingly long.
That was another thing that drove him crazy about Robin. She created all sorts of paradoxes in her wake without even trying.
"That pie there looks tasty," Lissa greeted him just outside the tent. "Have I told you that you're my favorite person in the whole wide world?"
Frederick snorted respectfully. "I am afraid, Milady, that this isn't my pie to share. However, I have it on good authority that there will be some at supper."
Lissa bounced in place, clapping her hands. "You hear that, Maribelle? We're going to dine like we're at one of the fussiest parties back home!"
Maribelle came out of the tent, her mouth pursed with tight disapproval. "It isn't a proper party without a roof, walls, and fine china, Lissa dear."
Her eyes narrowed when they fell upon him.
"Maribelle."
"I'll not have you upsetting my charge, Frederick. So if you mean to repeat your earlier tirade, you can just turn around right now."
Despite the differences in their ranks, their ages, their height, and their stations, Frederick felt his face heat up with embarrassment. Tirade was a rather strong word for what he'd done. And, true to form, Robin had pretty much missed most of it.
"Sumia asked me to deliver this to Robin and . . . visit with her."
"My earlier statement stands. Upset my charge at your own peril."
She ought to have looked ridiculous standing there in her riding suit, perfectly coiffed, with only her parasol to rely on, but Frederick had seen her express her displeasure with that self-same parasol on many occasions. She had never wielded it against him before, and he wasn't going to give her reason to without good cause.
He nodded.
"Mind watching Robin for a minute, Frederick? We should probably help Sumia with her pies." Without waiting for an answer, Lissa grabbed Maribelle by the arm. "Come on!"
Maribelle grumbled, but allowed herself to be led away.
Frederick steeled himself before lightly tapping the canvas wall of the tent. "I'm coming in, Robin."
To his surprise, she wasn't alone.
Robin was sitting on a low cot staring forlornly at something in her hand while Virion was carefully packing the wooden pieces of his chessboard away.
"Do not fret, ma chérie. Chess is a game that is easy to learn, but difficult to master. You're doing very well for a beginner."
Frustration flashed in her eyes before she surrendered her king.
Out of ten games, I've only won three—and none of them against you.
Virion chuckled. "A novice can hardly expect to best a master after only a few games. That is why I invited the captain to come along. It's good for morale."
She grinned. I'm not sure Chrom shares your sentiment.
"I do not think it was the activity he came for, but the company." Virion stood and gave Frederick a cheerful bow. "Have you come to challenge Robin to a game? I can leave this with you, if you'd like."
Robin folded her hands in her lap, and was very carefully not looking over at him.
"Thank you for the offer, but I was given strict orders to let her rest."
"Yes," Virion agreed cheerfully. "We heard. Ah well, get your rest while you can, me chérie. You're going to need it if you plan to claim my king."
Virion bowed again before exiting the tent.
Leaving behind, Frederick realized belatedly, an awkward silence.
He held out the pie. "Sumia asked me to bring this to you."
Thank you. Robin accepted the pie. She gave it an appreciative sniff before setting it on her cot and covering it carefully with a vividly embroidered handkerchief.
She stood up and carefully bunched her blankets up around the pie before beckoning to Frederick. I'll meet you around the other side.
"What?"
Robin gave him a look he couldn't quite decipher. Outside.
He opened his mouth to argue, but Robin had already turned away from him and ducked under her cot. Maribelle's warning was still fresh in his mind, so he decided to humor her.
When he met up with Robin, he couldn't help noticing she was straightening a rather large slash cut through the back of the tent.
"Robin."
She whipped around, then relaxed when she realized it was just him. I found it this way. At worst, I simply unpicked where it had been mended.
Frederick was well aware. He was, after all, the one who had done the mending. Chrom hadn't enjoyed his time spent in the healer's tent either.
Still, Sumia had asked him to talk to her. He'd given his word, and he wasn't going to disappoint her.
With great effort, he swallowed the reprimand and focused on the present. "You look as though you have mostly recovered."
It had been miraculous, really. After all was said and done, Robin came away from the entire ordeal with two dislocated shoulders and a few shallow cuts on her hands.
Robin nodded absentmindedly. The area should be clear over this way.
He crossed his arms. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
Yes, and this is a jailbreak. You're already complicit in aiding my escape, so you might as well go all in.
"Robin—"
She gave him another expressionless look before she set off in the direction she had pointed.
Frederick sighed. Sumia. He was doing this for Sumia.
They didn't speak as Robin led him to a small clearing not too far from camp. She sat down on a large rock that overlooked a clear stream.
This should be far enough away.
A good chunk of his irritation melted away into confusion. "Forgive me, but I fail to understand why we've come here in the first place—beyond escaping from Maribelle."
They shouldn't be able to hear you if you don't shout any louder than necessary. She wrapped her arms around her legs and braced herself as if anticipating a sudden storm. I had Virion verify the results. My calculations are sound.
Frederick blinked at her. Robin, herself, was nearly always a puzzle to him, but he was usually able to follow the conversation a lot better than this.
"And the reason for my shouting would be?"
Robin sighed, and she looked oddly vulnerable from her perch. You've been wanting to shout at me for a good long while. So go ahead. Get it all out.
"Robin, I'm afraid I don't know where to even begin. I'm quite certain that I have not the smallest desire to shout—"
Start with Chrom, then. And all my evil machinations and designs centered upon him. To what end, well, that's something I would like to know too.
Frederick frowned. "Milord has nothing too do with this."
Robin glared at him, her gestures sharper and wilder than usual. Wrong. He has everything to do with this!
"I'm afraid I don't follow." He set his jaw and refused to look away from her.
Where is he? Right now?
"I believe Milord is training and sparring with most of the Shepherds at the moment."
Precisely. The knowing look she gave him was a pebble to the boot.
"I fail to see how—"
You. Aren't. There.
"Yes," Frederick cleared his throat, not wishing to discuss the minor disagreement he and Chrom had had earlier, "that makes two of us."
So, about my nefarious designs . . .
Frederick sighed. Despite his best efforts, Robin seemed oddly determined to goad him into a fight. It was Sumia's smile and her confidence in his abilities that kept him from walking away.
"Very well." He crossed his arms. "If you wish me to be blunt, then I shall accommodate you. What, exactly, are your designs for Milord?"
That's what I'd like to know! Her gestures were getting a little wilder and a little faster. I've been open about my objectives, but you don't approve. So you seem to be the one with all the answers! So please, tell me what horrible things I've been plotting.
He narrowed his eyes, searching her face for any sign of deception. The line of her shoulders was rigid, but her face was an open book as it always was. Yet the only things he could see were fear, exhaustion, and a valiant effort not to cry.
"Can you tell me, honestly, that you have no designs for Milord?"
She huffed a sigh. Of course I do, Frederick. It's my job to plan for his safety. I have all sorts of designs. Books full of plans. What I don't understand is why you find my efforts at planning ahead to be some work of villainy. I thought you'd be happy that I consider his safety paramount.
Perhaps he'd been the one to take a tumble from a wyvern without knowing it, because the longer they talked, the less sense everything made.
"No one said anything about your efforts as our tactician. I thought I made it clear that I have the utmost trust in your abilities so far as you act in that capacity."
Robin threw up her hands, and for an awful moment, he could see the ghost of his spyglass gleaming in the air as it arched away from her hand. What other capacity is there?
"You honestly can't—"
Yes, I can. Robin pressed a hand to her chest. What you see is all I am. The Shepherds' tactician. Me. Robin.
The spot behind his left eye began to throb. Was she really going to make him say it out loud? For the first time, he was grateful that they were away from camp. He didn't like to think that Lissa or Sumia might overhear their conversation.
"I'm speaking of your capacity as a woman." He enunciated each word clearly and did his best to ignore the burning in his cheeks.
The look of absolute befuddlement on her face would have been humerous if the topic had been something less serious. Chrom had reached his majority, yes, but he was still quite innocent and naive when it came to the ways of the world. It was on his behalf that Frederick kept a sharp lookout.
And it had worked too, until now.
I don't have—what the heck is that even supposed to mean?!
Frederick took another deep breath. Surely not even Robin could play the fool quite so convincingly. "Do you mean to tell me that you have no desire or plan to seduce Milord?"
She furrowed her brow. Seduce him for what?
"The power of his station. The proximity to power that his life revolves around."
Robin sat up, no longer looking like a butterfly with crushed wings. Frederick, I hold the power of life and potential death over every Shepherd every time we do battle. You, of all people, should know how heavy that weight is. Why would I angle for more?
What was it about Robin that made some of the outrageous things she said always sound so reasonable?
"Because, that's how most humans think."
I guess I'm not human, then, she signed, looking disturbingly untroubled by the idea.
"There is also Milord himself. He is a good man, and handsome and fit, which makes him a fine catch indeed."
What is he, a fish?
Frederick paused, the image of Fish-Chrom swimming majestically in a pond appeared in his mind's eye. True to form, the Fish-Chrom was knocking down every pile of pebbles and breaking any ornaments he ran into.
"You have not answered my question. Are you—have you—at any point planned to seduce Milord?"
Robin narrowed her eyes as she thought, then hopped off the rock.
As a woman?
He nodded.
Her face scrunched up as she thought a little more. You mean like this?
She paced in front of the rock. Her movements had started out normal enough, but with each step, she looked more and more like a rooster suffering from an epileptic fit.
Then she stopped and swished her imaginary skirts before looking over her shoulder and making a face like she'd just been shocked by Thunder.
Repeatedly.
Frederick watched her performance with a kind of incredulous horror. If that was her idea of seduction . . .
Finished with her demonstration, Robin hopped back up onto the rock.
Sumia told me about a book she'd been reading, and she mentioned something about a milk maid seducing a count. Or was it a duke? Anyway, was that what you meant? Because if it was, then the answer is no. I don't really think I could do that on as regular a basis as the milk maid did without hurting myself. Not even for Chrom.
He should certainly hope not!
Feeling more exhausted than he had in a good while, Frederick sat on the rock beside Robin. Why did it feel as though he had aged so much in a single afternoon?
"You are truly not trying to trap Milord?"
Trap him? Do you mean like seduc—
"Yes." Frederick squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered as his mind replayed Robin's—Whatever it was, it was far enough away from seduction to set his mind at ease.
No. Robin glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. That's one part taken care of. How about you address my 'absolute dereliction of duty?' My 'egregious inability to think beyond myself' and 'a lack of care or foresight to the safety of others.' There's also your complaint that 'an idiot would have more sense.' I forgot the part where you were swearing by Naga, and I think you may also have mentioned something about 'moronic suicidal tendencies,' but it all kind of got blurry at that point.
She pursed her lips, rested her chin against her knees and stared at him, waiting.
"Ah, so you did hear me after all." Frederick sighed. This was turning out nothing at all like he'd thought it would. He hadn't meant to lose his composure at the time, and he certainly hadn't meant to give voice to his opinions quite so vociferously. But when Sumia had brought them down, and Chrom had been nearly bent in two to protect a mostly unconscious Robin . . .
It would have been hard not to. You were shouting pretty loudly.
"Yes, I suppose I was." Shame had curled around his temper and dismantled it between one breath and the next. He drew in a deep breath. "May I ask you why you did what you did? Vanishing up half a mountain like that."
Maribelle and Ricken would not have been able to defend themselves. It was imperative that someone reach them as fast as possible. And while I'm not the ideal candidate for such things, I was better than nothing.
His chest ached like he'd had his breath knocked out of him. "And you ended up riding a wyvern because . . . ?"
Chrom was in danger.
She said it so simply that Frederick could only marvel. He could see it now, how absurd his suspicions had been, and yet they had not been wholly without merit.
At least the motivation behind his suspicions.
"That was," he spoke gently now, "in part because of you."
Robin frowned as she sat up. I was nowhere near—
"Precisely." Frederick stretched his legs out in front of him while he pieced his thoughts together. "When you race ahead and put yourself in danger, Milord is never far behind. And in his haste, he might miscalculate or miss seeing an enemy combatant altogether. It is really quite dangerous for him."
I know. Robin's shoulders slumped. I was thinking you might put together some sort of obedience training."
"What is he, a dog?" Frederick quipped. His smile faltered when Robin stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd just made a joke. Despite his reputation, Frederick had an excellent sense of humor and could be downright jolly at times—provided his charges were safe and his duties fulfilled.
Robin shook her head. Or at least training in restraint and following the plan that the nice tactician spent hours and days drawing up.
"Restraint, I think, is not the issue. To be honest, Milord has exercised far more restraint than I had thought possible."
I'm at a loss, then. I've tried explaining it to him . . . Maybe if I use pictures . . . She put her head in her hands.
Frederick blinked at her as he felt the sudden shift in the conversation. In truth, their "talk" had been careening wildly and veering around hidden corners at such a breakneck speed that it was a wonder they'd arrived together at all.
And to think they had still more yet to go.
Robin, while eccentric, was not stupid. Surely she would see if he just told her.
"I think you need to understand that every time you enter the battlefield, you carry with you Milord's heart."
Robin had the audacity to look at him like he was the one spouting absurdities.
"He would sacrifice himself rather than see any harm befall you," Frederick tried again.
As tactician, my role is important and valuable, but isn't that being a little melodramatic? That's just Chrom being Chrom. He'd do that for anyone.
Frederick eyed her. How could someone who came up with all the complicated strategies and tactics she used fail to see what was standing right in front of her?
"I believe Milord fancies you," Frederick said, grimacing. By all rights, it ought to have been Emmeryn speaking to Robin, and he fervently wished she had been able to do so.
Especially as he suspected that Chrom felt a great deal more than fancy, but it wasn't his place to pin down his charge's feelings with words.
Robin canted her head to the side as though she couldn't tell whether or not he was being serious. Are we going back to seduction? Because I'm pretty sure the milk maid said something about fancying the earl. Ha! I remembered! It was an earl, not a duke.
Frederick could only gape at her for a very long moment before all the worry, the stress, and the outright absurdity of the situation congealed together and he started to laugh.
And once he started, he couldn't stop until his ribs were sore and he'd run out of breath.
Robin made a tentative movement toward him before she hopped off the rock with a look of relief.
Thank you for not shouting at me. I know you were upset.
Frederick shook his head as he stood up and brushed himself off. "I must offer you congratulations. I had never thought I would meet a person thicker in the head than Milord."
Robin's scowl was immediate. I can't be less intelligent than Chrom. I would know. We've played chess together!
"I beg you, Robin," Frederick held up his hands as if in surrender, "stop. I am sore enough as it is."
She narrowed her eyes, and he didn't miss the subtle calculation in her gaze. There is one more thing.
"Yes?"
I failed to calculate the wyvern going crazy and falling at speeds of terminal velocity as possible risk factors. She held out the remains of something that looked suspiciously like the spyglass he'd lent her.
If she'd strapped it to a boulder before rolling down a mountain.
I'm afraid it's going to be three spyglasses I owe you when we get back.
Frederick accepted what was left of his spyglass with the gravity the situation merited. He sighed. "Fortunately, I have another."
Robin laughed silently behind her hand. I knew it! Maribelle's two gold should go a long way to making sure you get the nicest, shiniest spyglasses available.
Frederick didn't ask. In truth, he really didn't want to know.
Speaking of, why wasn't I ever issued a spyglass? It could have come in handy before now.
He glanced at the twisted, dented bits of metal in his hand and then raised a brow at her.
Fair enough. Her stomach gurgled loudly. So, hey. I've got this blueberry pie back at camp . . .
Frederick tucked his former spyglass into a pouch on his belt. He could bury it later tonight with the other two. "I would be delighted to join you."
He breathed a deep sigh of relief. Now all that remained was to make amends with Chrom. He smiled as they made their way back to camp. Despite witnessing Robin's attempt at being seductive, his shoulders felt as though a great weight had been lifted from them.
Chrom's heart had chosen true, and that was all that mattered.
War.
They were in all likelihood going to war.
Chrom stared at the fire, but all he could see was his father's face as it grew a little harder each year, until the final time when he hadn't come home at all. His face, when they had presented him to Naga, had looked so peaceful as to be utterly unrecognizable.
But the way the flames flickered made it all too easy to mistake his father's face for his own.
He was vaguely aware someone had sat down beside him, but the thought didn't really register until Robin dumped a field's worth of flower petals in his lap.
A lot of flowers died for you today, she signed once he looked over at her.
"I'm pretty sure I have an alibi," he said as he looked helplessly at the petals. What did she expect him to do with them? "Frederick really hasn't let me out of his sight since this afternoon."
She nodded as she pretended to mull over his words. Frederick isn't really the straight arrow everyone believes him to be. He helped me break out of the healer's tent this morning. If he's willing to defy Maribelle, is there really anything he wouldn't be capable of doing?
Chrom chuckled despite himself. It had been a relief, and quite a surprise, when he'd found Robin and Frederick sitting near the fire pit finishing a pie and debating over whether fish or dogs were to be preferred as ruling sovereigns.
He still had no idea how they'd arrived at that particular conversation, but Robin was looking more like herself and Frederick had apologized to him not long after.
A comfortable silence fell between them, but before he could be haunted with images of his father, Robin reached over and placed her hand in his arm.
You've got a lot of us worried, you know.
"How so?"
Lissa told me what Emmeryn said before she left for the capital, and you didn't break a single tree during training. She glanced at the mound of petals in his lap. Sumia's flower fortunes were inconclusive.
Chrom shook his head to clear it. "I've pushed Emm to do something for a long while now, but I think I was secretly hoping she was right. That war could be averted. That the past would have no chance of repeating itself."
Robin nudged his arm with her shoulder. You can't take all the credit for starting this war.
"No," he stared at the flames until they'd consumed his field of vision, "but I've finally come to understand what it is I might lose should war befall us."
Robin tugged him to his feet. Enough glooming at the fire. According to at least two Shepherds, you need to eat. Come on.
"I did eat, remember?" But he allowed himself to be pulled along.
To Chrom's surprise, Robin led him away from camp and up to the top of a small hill. Night had fallen in earnest, but the hill was above the tree line and drenched with moonlight.
Someone had laid out a small picnic on a blanket he could have sworn was the twin to his own cloak. A few candles had been melted to large rocks that served as rustic candleholders and placed around the blanket.
In the center was a blueberry pie drenched with cream and freckled with walnuts and the tangy smell of lemons.
Chrom went still. "Is that—is someone playing a violin?"
Virion. He plays rather well from what he's told me. Robin sat down on the edge of the blanket and sighed. Odd. No plates.
He stifled a snort, but Virion was nowhere in sight. He frowned at the candles, and the distinct lack of Shepherds. If he didn't know any better . . .
Robin glanced up at him, and perhaps noting his hesitation, she gestured for him to sit down as well. Don't worry. Frederick told me under no circumstance was I to try to seduce you. Do you mind if we share the tin? There don't seem to be any plates.
Chrom coughed on the breath he'd been in the middle of taking when Robin made her declaration. He sat down, a little warier than he'd started, his face and the tips of his ears burning. While he was definitely curious, he really wasn't sure he wanted to know what sort of conversation Robin and Frederick had been having for Frederick to have seen the need to lay down an edict like that. Still, the idea that Robin might return his feelings . . .
"You weren't planning on, er," he cleared his throat, not quite able to get the word out, "doing anything like that, were you?"
Robin raised a brow as she handed him a spoon and the pie. Seduce you? She shook her head. I don't think I'm put together right for that sort of thing. Frederick seemed to agree.
Chrom's eyes widened as he choked on the bite of pie he'd swallowed wrong. Perhaps Robin had hit her head during her impromptu wyvern ride and Maribelle and Lissa had missed it somehow.
Either that or Frederick had.
"So you, um, put all of this together?"
Robin smiled and nodded. The others helped, of course. The picnic was your sister's idea though.
He bet it was. Still, it was nice sitting up here with Robin. Everything had been silvered by the moonlight, and the night was so peaceful that, for the moment, he could forget about war and fighting—all of it. The hilltop became the world, and they were the only two people in it.
"What's the occasion, if you don't mind me asking?"
I wanted to thank you. For, well, everything. You could have left me—in the field, at the stables—but you chose not to. Robin's smile softened and she gestured to the pie. Also, I wanted to know why Frederick had to go to town a second time for the cream and the lemons.
"Frederick did that?"
Robin nodded. You said this has sentimental value, and I can't understand the word if I don't know the meaning.
Chrom blinked as his earlier surprise and wariness melted away. "You remember that?"
She tapped the side of her head with a finger. I remember everything you've ever said to me.
He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. When he'd told her that, he'd been in a mild state of panic. Hopefully this time around no one else would pop up.
"My father was away a lot, especially toward the end of the war. And after my mother died . . . Even at a young age, Emm took me and Lissa under her wing."
I'm glad she was there for you.
So was Chrom. It hadn't been until the day before that he'd realized how grateful he was for Emm's gentle, but stalwart, presence in his life. She had been the constant for goodness in his life. And as far as he was concerned, it was she who was the greatest treasure of Ylisse.
"We'd go to the tree when we could. But when we couldn't, or when missing them became too hard, Emm came up with a way to ease the heartache."
Blueberry pie. Robin glanced down at the tin.
"The heirs of Falchion have all resembled the Hero King, as well as the first Exalt of Ylisse." Chrom laughed a little self-consciously. "The crust was Ylisse and all her people, while the blueberries represented all the heroes who were born of the exalted line."
Robin smiled, and the moonlight seemed to strike her in such a way that she seemed to be gleaming. I like that. Her smile turned mischievous. I would have thought the nuts represented the people.
Chrom's mouth had gone dry, and it took him a few moments to remember what they'd been talking about. "The walnuts were our hardships and a witness of our strength that came from allowing the seed to grow. And the cream, the sweetness and good things in life."
Had she always glowed when the moon came out? At some point, Virion had stopped playing, and the only sound beyond their breathing was the muted chirps of insects.
And the lemon zest?
"That came later when Lissa wanted something representative of her hair too."
Even her eyes seemed to be reflecting the moonlight, and he was struck once more by her beauty. Her heart had a way of spilling out across her face and into her fingers, and it changed the world wherever it fell.
His heart pounded as a warmth filled his chest. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and watch the sky until the stars burned out. To whisper promises, to tell her what his heart was carving into the underside of his ribs.
But what if she wasn't ready? What if handing her his heart frightened her enough to make her run? Emm had counseled him that flowers must bloom in their own time. To force the blossom was to destroy the flower.
Yet when they'd danced in the courtyard, still dripping from their forray with the fountain, when he'd thought to express his heart, she hadn't looked away.
Instead, she'd locked her gaze with his. She'd stared into his heart then, and she hadn't backed away. She'd leaned into him.
Something had changed in that moment, or perhaps that was simply the moment when he'd first realized that things were different somehow.
They were different somehow.
With all his attention focused on Robin's face, he didn't even realize he'd taken her hands in his until her curling her fingers between his as they entwined sent little shots of . . . something warm and wonderful pinging up into his arms.
Her eyes were deep enough to drown in, but the deeper he fell, the more his fears and trepidation were sheared away, until all that was left was a simple declaration written into every beat of his heart.
"I love you."
The words were carried from his breath to hers. And then there was no more distance between them.
Her eyes fluttered closed first, and her lips were surprisingly soft. The zings in his arms were nothing compared to the feeling of his lips pressed against hers. She tasted of sweetness and moonshine, and when they parted long enough to catch their breath, he could only stare in wonder.
Robin's eyes crinkled a little as she smiled at him with the same sort of stunned expression reflected in her eyes. Her fingers ghosted up to her lips, pulling his along with them.
I love you too, she mouthed. She looked dazed. As if her words had all changed shape unexpectedly, shifting everything else along with them.
The world took on a dream-like quality while, at the same time, it seemed to firm up as the foundations all fell perfectly into place.
Not willing to leave things to chance, he sealed her words with a kiss and a promise of his own—
—only to jump back as a cry of triumph sounded off somewhere in the distance.
"Wooooohooooooo!"
"What on earth—?"
Robin ducked her head and untangled their fingers long enough to say, I'm fairly certain Frederick has a second spare extra spare spyglass which he may, or may not, have given to your sister. Likely under duress.
Chrom sighed. Lissa would have found out at some point anyway.
But all of this was still new enough that he wanted to savor every moment before the real world intruded once more.
"Help me plan my revenge?"
Robin laughed, and eternity narrowed itself down to one bright point.
Always.
A/N: This chapter turned out to be a celebration of the interrobang—a quirky, often maligned puctuator, who does double duty!
I hadn't expected Robin to be quite so scared of the horses and was surprised until I saw the part of her backstory that this chapter hinted at. (Apologies, but there will be more information about it. Just not quite yet.)
And yay, Chrom! He finally got to spend some time with Robin in his arms. On a horse. Surrounded by the Shepherds. Racing to the border. *sorry Chrom*
So, ah ha ha. About Robin's backstory. It's coming. It's just going to come in bits and pieces—the same way she's receiving it. When I started writing this, I wasn't sure how it was going to manifest itself other than a few of the things we've already seen and dealt with. I wasn't expecting her to go all Grima on the Plegians, but yeah. She went there. O.O What she couldn't see, and Ricken and Maribelle didn't have time or bravery to comment on, was that her eyes had gone red, some purple-ish marks had appeared on her face, and she got exponentially scarier. So, yeah, make her angry at your own peril, I guess. :p
In the future, as well as now, Sumia is going to be very helpful about offering advice in matters of romance. Fortunately, Chrom already loves Robin, and will continue to do so even if she ever goes full seduction on him. (Note: Fade to black is the closest this story will ever come to actual seduction. I don't really count Robin's version as anything close to the real thing, but wanted to be clear. :D)
And poor Frederick! My heart went out to him this chapter. Somewhere, in a quiet forest near the border, lies the remains of four spyglasses. They had been unfailing in their duty, and had served Frederick well for many years.
Until Robin came into the picture.
RIP sweet spyglasses. You will be missed. :S
Ha ha! So . . . about Chrom. :p
The really crazy thing is, the "almost kiss" of last chapter was a million times harder to write. I'm pretty sure that out of the three of us (me, Chrom, and Robin), I was the one blushing the most, looking awkwardly away the most, and gack! Which is probably why I didn't realize the kiss was going to happen in this chapter until they were up on top of the hill and Chrom couldn't take his eyes off Robin. And then it was there, and, yeah.
Gack!
So, this was for all of you who have been patiently waiting for something-anything-to happen, romantically speaking. Frederick & Co. gift wrapped Robin and left her on the top of a hillside for Chrom. :p
So, Team Fish or Team Dog? Personally, I'm in the latter camp. Dogs can visit water and usually be just fine. The same cannot be said for fish, in the reverse. Also, while a Chrom-Fish's scales would likely be prettier than fur, fur is more cuddly. :)
MargaritaDaemonelix: Thank you so much! I'm really glad you've enjoyed the story. :D At this point, I'm pretty much just a pair of hands with a fancy keyboard. The Characters are the ones calling most of the shots-so it makes me doubly happy that their camaraderie and personalities are coming through genuine and true. I'm glad you're enjoying the Marth/Lucina world. It's going to be at the center of everything after all is said and done. I hope you continue to enjoy it! Thanks again! :D
Allstarall: Sorry for the confusion. :) Nearly every single word-even if it seems like nothing more than fluff at the moment-is tied back to what happened before and, thus, what will happen after the story ends. Thanks to Robin's amnesia, she doesn't remember some very pertinent and vital stuff from before the story starts. Those questions will all be answered, and every mystery will become clear . . . in time. But everything in between is building up to those points. And the clues will mostly come in drips and drops at the same rate Robin is receiving them. One of the reasons I posted the first chapter (prologue) as it is, was to let readers have a better idea what the story would be like up front. The other reason, of course, was because the prologue was this story's Once upon a time . . . If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them as they come up-although some things I may not be able to get into as there are a number of layers left to the story that haven't been revealed yet. :)
