Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.
When the mirror exploded, Chrom's heart nearly stopped. They had been marking out the best routes between Ylisstol and Plegia and finalizing their strategies, when he thought he heard someone crying out. The sound was so faint, that he figured it was little more than the tired imaginings of an overworked mind coupled with exhaustion. He hadn't slept well in a little over a fortnight.
Still, for some reason, it reminded him of Robin.
Before he could work out why, a sound like falling ice splintering into pieces broke through his thoughts. He put up an arm to protect his face from the shards of glass that rained down on them, hardly daring to believe what he saw.
A small, smudged figure was flying backward with the glass as though she had been hurled out from the mirror as well. The world seemed to freeze as he drank in the sight of her. He raced to her side, too slowly to catch her, but quick enough to catch hold of her before she flung herself toward the silver plate that had once been his mother's favorite looking glass.
"Robin," he breathed, holding her as she struggled to break free.
Tears streamed down her face as she screamed something silently with the entirety of her being.
"Lissa," he called, unable to look away from Robin's face.
"On it." The familiar green light from Lissa's staff washed over the both of them. "Just hold her in place, and I'll take care of the rest."
Chrom nodded as he held Robin a little closer, wrapping his arms around her and just breathing in her scent. She was alive. And she had finally returned to him.
"It's going to be all right," he murmured, one hand gently pressing against the back of her head. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, and although she was still straining for something that neither of them could see, the raw desperation had gradually fallen into soft discontent that, in turn, gave way to a bone crushing exhaustion.
"Milord." Frederick looked down at him, a complicated expression on his face. "I've sent word to the healers' ward. They should be ready to receive her."
"And what am I?" Lissa glared at Frederick, her arms steady as she continued to channel her magic into the staff. "Diced Risen food?"
Now that Robin was no longer struggling, Chrom could finally get a good look at her. Her hair had gone a soft, shimmery white, and had grown so long that she might have been gone for months, rather than weeks. Her tears had formed tracks through the dark smudges covering her face, and she seemed to be covered with what looked like soot. Her eyes were partially open, enough for him to catch a glimpse of the bright violet he'd thought he'd dreamed up, but her gaze was unfocused as though she didn't see anything that was before her.
Chrom clenched his jaw. Every time she'd had to leave before, she'd always returned a small eternity later. Whole. Happy. Herself. What had happened this time that she'd come back home so broken?
"Arrange for the healers to treat her in her room." He stood, holding Robin carefully, as though she was the world's most fragile glass.
"As you say, Milord." Frederick, however, made no motion to move. Instead, he cleared his throat and gave Chrom a pointed look.
It was then that Chrom remembered they had been in the middle of a war council.
"No fear on our account," Basilio's voice boomed, making no effort to hide his amusement. "See to your woman. A few hours won't make any difference so far as we're concerned."
"Very considerate of you," Flavia said. Approval lightened her expression as she slapped him on the back. "Didn't think you had it in you."
Basilio snorted. "We've got the heart and the brawn, now that we've got the brains, we'll be unstoppable!"
Flavia's eyes narrowed, and her voice was edged with iron, "Are you calling the rest of us stupid?"
"Right," Chrom cut in before they could begin their argument in earnest. "Dismissed for now. We'll reconvene after supper."
Lissa stuck close to him as they left, the light from her staff never wavering. Bit by bit, the cuts and bruises that had been blooming on Robin's face melted away, leaving behind her unnatural pallor.
"Wait, Chrom, not this way," Lissa said as they approached the barracks.
He shook his head. "She's home now, and I want her to feel it. The healers' ward doesn't—"
"Not there either." Lissa's expression turned pinched as if she was weighing something, unsure of whether or not to continue.
"Then where do you propose we put her?"
"Sumia and I, well, a bunch of us, really, prepared a more . . . permanent room for her than the barracks."
He raised a brow, pleased. "Lead the way."
Lissa fidgeted as though someone had finally dropped a frog down her back. "It's, um, in the western wing."
He smiled and nodded, his eyes never leaving Robin. The days they had been separated had felt like years, but now that she was back, it was as though she had never left at all. The empty place inside him had been filled to the brim. Moving forward, he would do all in his power so she never had to leave his side again.
"Well, yeah. About that . . ." Lissa giggled nervously. "Time marches on. It always does. And it's not like we can just keep adding wings to the castle on a whim."
Chrom frowned. Robin was a lot lighter than he'd remembered, and her features seemed more delicate than usual. Aside from her eyes, it seemed as though all her color had been washed right out of her.
And the look of devastation on her face . . . Even though her expression had relaxed somewhat, he could still see the traces of grief that had etched itself into her very bones.
"Besides," Lissa continued, "this place has enough unhappy memories. Replacing the bad, old memories with good new memories is the important thing. The wound can never heal if you keeping picking at the scabs, right?"
"Scabs?" Chrom furrowed his brow as he caught the tail end of Lissa's conversation.
Her eyes widened and she jutted out her chin. "You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you?"
"I've the general idea of the important things," he defended himself sheepishly.
Lissa rolled her eyes at him. "So the 'important thing' you got out of this was scabs?"
Heat filled Chrom's face. When put like that . . .
"All right, I'll just spit it out," Lissa sighed, clutching her staff a little harder than strictly warranted. "But you have to promise not to get mad at me."
"I'm listening."
Lissa's gaze dropped to the toes of her boots, and she suddenly looked her age. Even though she had proven herself on many occasions, Chrom was suddenly reminded that she still had a few years left before she would reach the age of her majority.
"We couldn't touch the eastern wing, not after—" Lissa's voice fell along with her expression, and she blinked rapidly as if to hide her tears. "Anyway, the eastern wing is off limits."
A heaviness fell over them. When Emm had become the Exalt, she had chosen the eastern wing for her chambers, because she had loved watching the sun come up before the rest of her day began.
"What does that have to do with Robin?" And then, because he couldn't bear for his little sister to cry, "Or scabs?"
Lissa groaned, but managed a small grin. "Everything's going to be changing soon, so we thought we'd look to the future."
Chrom studied his sister, still at a loss as to why she was so nervous. "We?"
"The Shepherds . . . and a number of servants, all sworn to secrecy, of course." Lissa drew in a deep breath. "Chrom, Robin can't stay in the barracks forever. Not with you and . . . Er, not with your betrothal and all."
"Agreed." Perhaps the stress was getting to Lissa more than she let on, otherwise why would she be acting so strangely?
"It's their chambers," Lissa blurted out. "We cleaned out their chambers. For Robin. And you. After you've married."
Chrom blinked in confusion. "Their?"
And then he remembered.
Something he couldn't quite identify welled up in his heart at the thought of his mother.
Of his father.
The view of the sunrise hadn't been the only reason Emm had taken up residence in the eastern wing of the castle.
"We can't ignore that wing forever," Lissa said, her voice low as she silently pleaded with him to be all right with everything. "Isn't it a better idea to replace all the bad memories with good ones? Maybe then, maybe then we can let them go."
Chrom took a few deep breaths of his own. Although it did little to clear the chaos in his heart, doing so gave him just enough room to be grateful for his sister's intentions.
Out of all of them, Lissa had had the hardest time. For while she was too young for their father's memories to have left any mark upon her, the same was true of their mother's.
It had been the memories of their mother that had helped he and Emm get through the early days after their father had joined their mother in the royal mausoleum.
He looked down at Robin who looked to have fallen into an uneasy sleep.
Perhaps . . .
Perhaps it was time to look to the future without being mired by the past.
Emm . . . Emm would have liked that.
"I hope you've raided the library. It wouldn't be a proper room for Robin if it wasn't covered in books." Chrom managed a passable smile. He hugged her a little closer, finding comfort in her return.
"You've got that right," Lissa said, leading him through the archway that led to the western wing. Her shoulders relaxed as the earlier tension went out of her. That alone made swallowing his earlier surprise well worth it. "Her chambers won't compare to the library for now, but we've got a good start. If a book wasn't nailed down or already claimed by the librarians, it'll be in Robin's room. Sumia helped a lot with that."
Chrom looked at his little sister with new appreciation. "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"
Lissa wrinkled her nose at him, and shrugged. "Going to the war councils put me to sleep. I'm not like you or Frederick. I can't train the new recruits or come up with battle strategies. So I thought about what I could do. Thus the Mission: Give Robin a Nest of Her Own."
"Look at you, all grown up and playing princess." With effort, he kept his voice light. In truth, every footfall that brought him deeper into the western wing was a stone piled atop his heart.
Lissa stuck her tongue out at him. "You just wait until she wakes up. Then we'll see who has the last laugh!"
Chrom grimaced. If Robin had to choose between books and battle plans, he couldn't honestly say he was certain of which one she'd pick.
Of course, being Robin, she'd probably just say, ' Yes!'
"All right, just through here." Lissa released her magic so she could open the heavy oak doors that led to the chambers she'd prepared for Robin.
Chrom couldn't help glancing around as they passed through the receiving chamber, the antechamber, and into the sleeping chamber. Lissa really hadn't been exaggerating about the books. If anything, she'd downplayed the hoard she'd collected.
"Just lay her over here." She leaned her staff against the bedpost so she could tug the curtains to block out some of the sunlight.
Chrom carefully put Robin on top of a very plush, very purple coverlet. He brushed a few stray locks away from her face, trying to ignore how empty his arms felt now that he'd set her down.
"Well," Lissa turned around, bouncing in place with excitement. She spread her arms open as though to embrace the entire chamber. "What do you think?"
Chrom blinked at her, at a loss as for what to say. "It's, um, purple. Very purple." Her face fell a little, so he hastened to add, "Also, books. A lot of books."
"Chrrrooom!"
He tweaked her pigtail when she came over to attend to Robin.
"She'll love it, Liss."
"You better believe she'll love it," Lissa grumbled not-so-under her breath. She pressed her fingers against Robin's wrist, the furrow in her brow smoothing out as she took her pulse.
Some of the heaviness left Chrom's heart. The past . . . was in the past. The future was what they all had to look forward to. The people were the heart of Ylisse. They had weathered far more terrible storms before, and they would be more than equal to the task rising before them.
That was something his father, in his zeal to protect his wife, had forgotten.
In that forgetting, his father had disarmed himself at the most crucial juncture.
And Emm . . .
Emm had never forgotten—no matter how many stones and sharp words they had hurled at her—and she had ensured that he would never be able to forget as well.
"All right, all right." Lissa straightened. She waved her hands at him as though she were shooing away one of those yappy little dogs that had been in fashion a decade ago. "You've had more than enough time to remember what she looks like. It's not like Robin's going to turn into a dragon or anything. There's a war on, and my patient needs to rest."
"But—"
"No buts!" With a few strategic movements, Lissa managed to sweep him out of the entire suite and out into the corridor. "Now go do your job so we can welcome her back properly later."
A second later, Chrom found himself stumbling over a retort while facing the business end of the door.
When had his little sister become so capable?
"Milord, excellent timing." Frederick looked a little grimmer than usual. "We have need of your assistance in the stables."
Chrom frowned, Lissa's words still ringing loud and clear in his head. "The stables?"
Frederick was too disciplined to sigh, but he looked as if he was giving it serious consideration. "I don't suppose Robin is conscious yet?"
"Not yet. Lissa's working on it though."
Frederick's brows lowered at the news, but before Chrom could question him, Maribelle, Sumia, and a very uncomfortable looking Lon'qu shoved past him to enter Robin's new chambers.
"Naga will that she awakens soon," the fervency in Frederick's voice was in no way diminished by his muttering it under his breath.
Things suddenly clicked in place, and Chrom had to fight to keep himself from smiling.
"I don't suppose this has anything to do with Reflet?"
"It has everything to do with that . . . that . . . cursed child!"
Chrom raised a brow as they set off toward the stables. "Someone actually dared to curse her?"
"Thankfully, no." Frederick shuddered. "Were that to happen, we might very well experience another magical cataclysm that would make the Scouring look like a genteel picnic in a field of daisies."
Chrom's lips quirked up before he was able to control his grin. Now that Robin was home, he felt he could face a thousand Reflets, along with a thousand each of the dark mages she'd brought along with her. Of the two, Henry fit in better than Tharja—at least initially. Until he said something that brought the conversation into an awkward lull while the other person tried to work out if he was serious or not. It did not help matters that he wore an unsettling grin the entire time.
Frederick was not one given to hyperbole, and he wasn't exaggerating now.
"What happened?"
"Apparently Reflet had some theories about how to make horses more efficient." Frederick's expression turned stoic.
"That doesn't sound as bad as the chicken situation earlier," Chrom said, relieved that their newest recruits had turned their attention to something more practical than magically enhancing the royal chickens to see if purple chickens laid purple eggs and what would happen if they did.
No one expected the chickens to change colors every time they laid an egg. And, more importantly to those who unlucky enough to be on time for breakfast, that they did indeed lay eggs corresponding to the color of their feathers.
The only problem was that out of the sixty-seven shades of color, not a single one of the eggs tasted like their more traditional counterparts. Instead they tasted like cream tarts, mint, a delicate and mild fromage, and—most strangely of all—roasted bear meat.
Chrom found that he didn't mind the last one as much as he'd thought he would.
"Yes, well," Frederick said, his right eye twitching, "so long as you don't mind your horse breathing fire, growing scales and wing nubs, along with devouring a third of the royal flock, then I suppose we could consider that we've gotten off rather lightly."
He paused long enough for Chrom to sense this was only the beginning of their problem.
"There is also the small matter of Sully."
Chrom frowned, given Sully's temperament and general love of the stables, well, it didn't take a genius to work out the likely consequences.
"Is—is she all right?" Chrom wasn't sure whether he was asking after Sully or Reflet.
Frederick paused and drew in a deep breath, his eyes raised toward the sky where he was likely directing a fervent prayer to Naga. "She's perfectly fine, Milord."
The tension in Chrom's shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath of relief. Well and good, then.
"Of course," Frederick went on, "Sully does object to being forcibly detained on the stables' rooftops."
"She—wait, what?" This being a Reflet situation, Chrom expected the confusion that came along with it, it was just that he had a hard time picturing Sully being forcibly detained by anyone or anything that wanted to go on living. "Why would Reflet—"
"Not Reflet, Milord. The horses."
"The . . . horses . . . ?"
"I suppose one might more properly call them horse-dragons at this point, but the essentials remain the same." Frederick shook his head before continuing in the direction of the stables.
"But why would they—" Chrom shook his head, trying to picture the situation and failing miserably.
"It would seem that Refelt not only worked to 'improve' their physiology, but sought to improve their minds as well. They rather took to heart the fairy tale she read them about a maiden kept in a tower by a great dragon of old. There being no towers close at hand, they settled on using the roof instead."
"Ah." Chrom grimaced. Maybe a thousand Reflets had been an empty boast.
As they turned toward the far side of the practice yard and the cacophony from the stables was just starting to reach them, Frederick sighed again.
"I suppose it was a mercy that she didn't read them the stories where the dragons ate the maidens they captured."
Chrom nodded before quickening his step. He doubted the horses—er, horse-dragons—would seriously entertain the idea of eating Sully. Out of everyone that cared for them, she was their favorite.
Still, it wouldn't do to assume anything—especially if Reflet was involved. As they came upon the scene that was pure chaos and irritated horse-dragons, Chrom found himself adding his prayers to Frederick's.
But despite a harried-looking Sully who seemed every bit as aggravated as the horse-dragons, he couldn't help smiling as his heart went suddenly light.
Robin was home. She had finally come home.
A/N: After all the hectic mirror/Risen King shenanigans, it was nice to take a small breather here. I'd intended to include Chrom and (a conscious) Robin's reunion, but I really want to make sure I get it right, so that'll take place in the next update.
I did not, however, anticipate the chickens or the horse-dragons. (Or, Dragoons, as Reflet likes to think of them. :p) But the idea of Sully being trapped on the roof by her adoring horse-dragons was too good to pass up. If the Dragoons exhibit any more dragonish tendencies, then I expect Sumia to figure in at some point as well.
Frederick will not be pleased.
Nor will Reflet. After all, how can one train one's Dragoons if they are too busy hoarding and guarding the maidens they've already collected? :D
As always, thank you for stopping by, reading, commenting, sharing, and just being excellent in general! Have a great week and prepare for the sweet, sweet Chrobin fluff that is coming up next!
TaraTolmney: Thank you! And to you as well. :D I really loved the name changes too! Robin was a little (lot) annoyed, and it was a kind of fun, unexpected way for her to relieve some of the pressure so she didn't explode. O.O Aww, thank you so very much! See you enjoy the story makes me happy and all the work part of writing the story worth it. :) Thank you so much, and to you as well! Have a great week!
RoastedButter: Haha! The name thing was Robin's way of *not* throttling a certain Risen King at the moment. I don't think he fully realized or appreciated the danger he was in at the moment. :p Yes, Emm is gone for good this time. (There *might* be a small appearance, but only right at the end of the story.) What happened with Emm will be made much clearer in Chapter Sixty (Chapter Sixty-One, by FF's counting system). Even though Robin bent time and space and magic, Emm was still not going to be survive the transition between the worlds for long. Both of the Emms were aware of this, but didn't have the heart to break it to Robin before it was absolutely necessary. They both used up what was left of their life force to get Robin back to where she was needed (and needed to be) most. Thank you so much for your trust! I'm working hard and crossing my fingers that the payoff will be well worth the wait. :) Have a great week!
Daisy Party: Awww, thank you so much! :D Re: Robin: I'm really glad too. Mirror Realm Chrom just isn't Chrom-Chrom, and I've really missed their interactions. 12/10ths of my love for Awakening's storyline are all the Chrobin moments. 0:) I'm really looking forward to writing some more in the very near future! Thank you so much! I shall endeavor to make the story as awesome as possible! Have a great week! :)