Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.


Candles burned bright from every corner of the ballroom. Silks and satins rustled as lords and ladies drifted about, beautiful butterflies in a field of sunshine. And while there was music playing gently in the background, everyone preferred talking to dancing.

Sighs of relief.

Hope for the future.

Gratitude that the worst was all behind them now.

Lucina drank in the scene with wide eyes. By the time she was old enough to remember, balls and parties had made way for war councils and quiet, tense knots of people who had not yet accepted the true magnitude of what they were fighting.

Or who they would lose to.

Each year, fewer people gathered until it was just her and her allies.

Her friends.

And then, not even them.

But here—here there was no frantic desperation. Just joy. And life.

So much life.

She tightened her hold on Falchion. Her determination to succeed hardening into so much more than a mere hope.

Falchion sighed against her scabbard, but fed what warmth she had left into Lucina's hand. They were together in this—just as they always had been.

And just as they always would be.

Lucina pressed her lips together as she prepared to slip away. They didn't need her here, after all. But just as she slipped into the corner next to the servants' entrance, she froze.

Her father and mother had just joined the gathering. Her father smiling as he tugged lightly on her mother's arm before his hand slipped down and he interlocked his fingers with hers.

For one bright and terrible moment, all the joy, the grief, the longing, Lucina had been pushing away with both hands washed over her heart.

Squeezing it.

Shredding it.

Until it was as ragged and torn as the flag bearing their family's crest had been before she stepped through time.

Her father laughed at something an important looking lord had said, bringing her back into the present. He didn't have to glance at her mother before he was rubbing soothing circles against the back of her hand.

Her mother was stiff—she always had been when it came to the court—but her face relaxed enough for a tiny smile to slip through.

"She has a tendency to forget that she's already won his heart," a voice that was so very like, and yet so very different, from her mother's voice found its way to her ear.

Lucina startled when she realized that Reflet was only a step or two away from her. How had the girl moved so quietly? And how had she not noticed?

How had Falchion not noticed?

"Her confidence is wasted on the battlefield." Reflet took a cookie out of her pocket and nibbled on it while she continued to study Lucina's parents. "Nobody notices it then."

"You are well acquainted with my mother?" Lucina frowned. There had been no Reflet in her world.

"Enough to know that she's planning a tactical retreat the second she feels like no one would notice." Reflet's grin widened as she said with a little too much relish, "She's doomed to fail, of course. How could he not notice his heart slipping away?"

Lucina hummed her agreement while attempting a tactical retreat of her own—which was abruptly cut short when Reflet caught hold of her sleeve.

"I'm coming with you."

Lucina blinked at her, feeling as though the world had gone topsy turvy and she was the only one who had noticed.

"That's—"

"Not as impossible as you think it is."

"But—"

"No, really." Reflet waved aside her concerns. "This won't be the first time, and it won't be the last."

It wasn't the steely determination in Reflet's eyes that made Lucina swallow her objections. Her questions. It was something else that she couldn't quite pin down. Something that made even Falchion suddenly grow wary.

"I cannot guarantee your safety," Lucina said instead, resting her hand on Falchion.

Reflet gave her a wide smile that was filled with teeth. Lucina frowned. The other girl's expression ought to have been a threat, and yet it wasn't fear she felt, but comfort. The way she'd felt safe and secure when her father gave her piggyback rides and lessons with Falchion.

"But I can guarantee yours."

Before Lucina could demand clarification, a cloud of butterflies peeled themselves away from the light dancing on a thousand wicks. The world turned gold with them as they bore the two of them away in a whisper of wings slipping through space.


Robin curled her fingers around the carving as she slipped out into the night. The wood had been smoothed to silk somewhere between Plegia and home. Although, she winced and loosened her hold on it a little, it had unexpectedly sharp corners at times.

Her eyes adjusted to the moon that shone brightly overhead. It spilled silver light down the walls of the castle, formed limpid pools upon the gardens, and chased shadows down the hill and into the confines of the forest.

Laying the world bare with a kind of starkness that would not allow even the shadow of a leaf to hide behind.

It matched her heart perfectly.

Her feet found their own way to that little garden she had stumbled upon when she had run away from the Court. The garden where Emm had found her. Among the leaves and flowers where she had been given a legitimate place—not just in Ylisse, but within the royal family itself.

Family.

Her breath caught in her chest, all crooked corners and sharp angles. Heavy as stone, while her heart beat a frantic rhythm in search of escape.

Escape. Ha! Her lips curled into what ought to have been a smile while she blinked back the tears that were so determined to fall.

How could she, of all people, dare to weep here, of all places?

Robin found herself turning away from the bench that gleamed milky white to face the decorative tree that stood quietly in the center of the courtyard, its long branches heavy with pinkish blossoms that draped themselves about the tree like some courtly lady's skirts.

Her eyes widened as she caught a light vanilla scent spiced with honeysuckle and a freshness that reminded her of the bees' wax candles they used in the library. A shadow so subtle she was only marginally aware of its existence stirred in the corner of Robin's heart as she dropped to her knees, reaching through the greenery planted at the base of the tree.

Leaves rustled as they parted before her fingertips. Velvet turned to silk as shadow turned to moonlight.

Robin stared down at the blossoms of the small white flower she'd unearthed. The blossoms she'd seen in Plegia.

Plegia.

That name brought with it sorrow and grief. A stain that would never lighten no matter how much time had passed.

Her lips twisted into a scowl as she let go of the flower. Watched it sink back beneath the leaves where it let off a pale, cold light.

As Robin stood and shook out her skirts, she realized the garden was alight with similar points of light as the flowers drank in the light they received from the moon. Stepping carefully, as if she were navigating her way past stars rather than plants, she made her way over to a stone bench.

One hand squeezed the carving, while the other slipped into her pocket and pressed against the letter Frederick had handed off to her once they'd arrived home.

Her name had been written across it with gold ink, each letter perfectly formed and spaced. Although she had never seen Emm's handwriting, she'd known at a glance by whose hand it had been written. The weight of the seal only served to confirm it.

"I see you're already working out when and how best to disengage from official events," the warmth in Chrom's voice soothed the momentary guilt his words had incurred. He smiled as he stepped forward. "I'd expect no less from The Most Tactical Tactician in Ylissean Tactical History."

Robin squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of the feast that fell short of the feasts she was used to having with the Shepherds. She had been looking forward to the bear meat too . . . Which, apparently, the nobility didn't consider to be actual food.

Regardless, Stahl should never have been allowed anywhere near highly fermented mead. Especially not right before it was his turn to toast.

With a sigh, she made a mental note to keep him away from such things in the future before opening her eyes.

Luckily you no longer have need of a tactician, tactically-speaking or not.

Chrom grinned as he sat next to her. "I will always have need of you, Robin."

Robin sighed again. That was something she was certain she'd never understand. Not that she was complaining, mind you. Her fingers tightened their hold on the carving as she tried—and failed—to contemplate an existence without Chrom.

She shook her head. Her existence would have ended with the first brigand she came across. Barring impossible luck, even if she would have survived, her existence would have simply been that: existence.

Colorless. Flat. Exist—

"You're hurt." Chrom gently pried the carving from her hand. He angled her palm toward the moonlight, frowning when he realized how deep the cuts were.

Robin tried to pull her hand back. The last thing she needed right then was another run in with the healers. She never would have fallen out the window if they hadn't startled her in the first place. She didn't care what anyone said, regrowing bone hurt! Staff or no staff.

She froze when Chrom produced a handkerchief and deftly wrapped and tied it about her hand. When he met her questioning look, he laughed softly.

"It'll hold until morning. If I take you back now, it could be weeks before I see you again."

Robin narrowed her eyes and raised a brow. Though she couldn't see it, she knew he was blushing.

"They might have said something about you needing an extended rest from—er, an extended rest." He cupped her injured hand in his. "I admit that I am selfish in wanting to spend time with you. Of course, if you want we can have one of them heal you right—"

Fine. I'm fine. Robin grimaced as the cuts in her hand burned now that they had her attention. Then, because it was always better to be prepared, An extended rest from what?

Chrom ducked his head before picking up her carving. He turned it over in his hands before meeting her eyes.

"What is this?"

Robin blinked as her thoughts turned to cold fire. Panic pressed her chest into her spine. She hadn't meant for anyone to see—

"Robin?"

I didn't know what the customs are in Ylisse. We couldn't—didn't end things in time, so we have no way of knowing—even if we had, we might not have been equipped to—to bring her back. Home. But she deserved home. To be here. With us. To say goodbye. Robin's chin trembled as the words poured from her fingers like water from a broken cistern.

"I don't think I follow." Chrom squinted at the carving.

I didn't want her to be forgotten. Ever.

"Who?"

Emm.

Robin braced herself as some of the fire went hot. Scorching her insides as if it intended to burn her to ash.

Chrom's eyes went wide as he glanced back at the carving.

It had been a mistake, she realized, then. A horrible, terrible mistake to believe that she could have—

"Thank you," Chrom's voice was rough as he swept Robin into an embrace. He didn't say anything else, just held her close. "You have—you have no idea . . . how much I needed that. This. You."

He shifted as though he was afraid of her vanishing into a poof of stardust if he didn't hold her tight enough.

Robin blinked at the hazy moonlight slivering Chrom's profile. Why? Why was he thanking her? Hadn't she . . .

"Emm."

The name sat like a weight between them before the world dissolved into a jumble of shadow and light.

She didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Her insides would fly to pieces if she did either. She was sure of it.

"Emm would have been so happy to see us now. To see everything she worked so hard for to finally come to pass."

But just as Robin's control was beginning to harden, her gaze fell into his.

A rare and perfect blue.

Filled with love.

Warmth.

Understanding.

Gentle faith.

Kindness.

She hiccuped a sob as the truth of his heart collided with hers.

He should hate her.

Not only had he lost his beloved sister, but now Chrom would be forced to leave behind the freedom he prized. Be forced to bear the weight of a crown he had never wanted.

Robin curled into him, a handful of expensive silk tunic crushed in either hand, as he pulled her even closer.

The few tattered pieces of her control melted away beneath the raging fire consuming her soul.

Helpless heartache pounded against her chest.

Grief.

A pride-darkened sorrow.

Loss.

And buried beneath it all was a mountain of self-loathing.

As if she only had to hate herself enough, punish herself sufficiently, to wash even the smallest corner of her soul clean from the guilt.

The despair.

The fury.

But though she had squeezed her eyes shut, she could still feel his gaze upon her. Could still feel the depths of his soul that laid bare each and every corner of her worthless heart.

Why?

Why didn't he hate her?

Scorn her?

Repudiate her?

How could he look at her—the one who had killed his sister—like that?

Open warmth.

Gentle kindness.

Love.

She shuddered against the ferocity of the question—the demand—as it tore through her. Curling into a tighter ball. Only half aware of the soft voice murmuring as a light hand stroked the back of her head.

The storm in her chest howled through her mind, tearing her thoughts to pieces.

Until all her breath had been spent.

Her fears tattered.

Tossed and turned.

Into the dark embers of regret.

Drawing back until she could open her eyes and peer a little more into his.

Despite how much she feared what might be found there, Chrom's eyes were a thing she could never resist no matter how much she might want to.

Which she never did.

You don't hate me. Her fingers trembled as something small and warm drifted through her.

"I could never hate you, Robin."

She uncurled a little as Chrom brushed her tears away with his thumb.

He pressed his lips together for a moment as his expression grew softer still. "And I will keep telling you until it's impossible for you to believe otherwise."

Drawing in a deep breath, Robin gave voice to the thorn driven deep into her side.

Why?

Chrom sighed and smoothed away a few tears he had missed. "You might as well ask why the sky is blue and water is wet. I'm sure Miriel has a rational, scientific explanation, but for me, it just is. From the moment I met you, until far past the moment I take my last breath. You are my other half, and I am happy to have found you."

Robin frowned.

"Don't believe me?" He pressed his forehead against hers.

I do. I just—I don't understand.

"Well," he drew back enough to study her face, "why do you feel the way you feel about me? Do you ever wonder what your life might have been if we'd parted ways in the field? You might have had a more peaceful life, far from war and the nobility."

War would have come either way.

He nodded. "But you would have been on the periphery. Not tangled up in the center of things."

Robin tried to form a rebuttal, but couldn't find the words to express precisely what she meant.

"Do you ever resent me for pulling you into this mess?"

Robin let out the breath she'd been holding. She shook her head as she cupped his face with her uninjured hand.

How could she ever resent home or family?

You gave me purpose and a place to belong.

"As you've done for me."

It isn't the same.

"Isn't it?"

Robin had the sudden urge to either laugh or cry. She wasn't sure which. Chrom had given so many people a place and a purpose. And he would likely continue to do so against her and Frederick's urging him to exercise caution.

He wouldn't have been himself otherwise.

"The way I see it, we could keep score to track our debts to each other or we could just let it all be. Cherish what we have without the need to take it apart and pin it all down." He took both her hands in his. Looked deep into her eyes, leaving no place for her to hide. "Do you have to understand why to trust in my feelings for you?"

Robin shook her head. Then, because she couldn't help herself, I would trade places with her if I could. To bring her back for you.

Chrom let go of her hand long enough to hold the carving out to her. The moonlight fell upon the wood, turning it to silver. "In truth, Emm never truly left. We, each of us, have carried her home in our hearts. In remembering her," he nodded toward the carving, "honoring her, not only will she never be forgotten, but we will also grow to be a little more like her with every memory we hold."

Robin blinked down at the carving, a perfect replica of Emm, standing tall and graceful and quiet. Not the stern silence of a noble stranger, but the serene stillness of a friend who listens far more than she ever speaks. Her heart ached for the loss, and yet for some reason, the loss was no longer an arrow to the heart or a blade to the neck.

It still hurt.

And perhaps it always would.

But it had dulled enough to be bearable.

"Fair warning, I'm going to hold you to your word." Chrom tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "Neither of us can replace Emm. Even so, I think she would prefer us to be ourselves. Whether we will or not, we must stand in her place and help each other be the best version of ourselves we can be. Will you do that with me?"

It took Robin a moment to understand what he was proposing. He had already asked her to be his wife in the very near future. But tonight, he was asking her to be his queen. Not a pretty ornament perched upon his sleeve, to be trotted out whenever the occasion called for a pretty face, but a true partner in every sense of the word.

Perhaps misreading her silence, Chrom gently tipped her head back so he could look her in the eye. "I am not asking you to bury your sorrow or to pretend to be or feel anything other than what and who you are. I only ask that we do this together. Side by side. You and me."

Robin nodded, no ready answer upon her fingertips other than the assurance that she would be there for him for as long as he allowed.

Longer—probably—whether he wanted her or not.

Yet he did.

Somehow he wanted her.

Despite her mistakes.

Her failures.

Her weaknesses.

She wasn't certain who closed the gap first. Only that, as she blinked at the stars in a dark blue sky, and with the sweetness of the kiss lingering upon her lips, the great big crack in her heart knit itself together a little around the edges.

It was still dark.

And deep.

And there would be times when it would cut away her breath.

But here, with him, she could—and would—stand her ground.

Chrom pulled her close and sighed into the crook of her neck. "We have two options."

Robin nodded to indicate she was listening.

Chrom laughed softly. "We could go for a walk in the gardens—they're all interconnected, you know. Or . . ."

From the way he paused, she could almost see the apologetic grimace he was making.

"Or we could have pity on Frederick and go back to the feast to end things officially for the night."

The fire that had been steadily eating at Robin's heart soothed itself into cheerful crackles and blissful warmth instead of bottomless hunger. There was only right answer to his question, yet he had asked her all the same.

She pressed her hands against his chest and nudged him back a little. The king is always first on the battlefield.

"And always the last to leave," he agreed. He slipped a quick kiss to her cheek past her guard before standing and holding out his hand. "So what will it be?"

Robin slipped her carving back into her pocket before she took his hand. Though she had come to say her final goodbyes to Emm, it seemed that that would have to wait for another day. The dead must always make way for the living.

She looked deep into Chrom's soul as she replied, Wherever the king goes, so goes the queen.

Forever and always, she promised him silently, she would remain by his side.


A/N: Well . . . that didn't go anything like I was expecting. *sobs and shakes fists at the imaginary people running things*

I blame Chrom. And Stahl.

But mostly Chrom. Robin's brain-and Chrom's when he's around Robin-goes weird when they're together. She has a habit of mentally babbling and being highly distractible.

I'd been bracing myself for this chapter for a couple of months. The chapter where she tears open the wound, gets it cauterized, and moves forward. Scarred, yes, but whole. Well, more whole than she was when she was bleeding out over the loss of Emm. It would be a rough and emotionally draining chapter, but worth it.

Ha.

Turns out I'd underestimated both the effect Chrom has on Robin when he's in close proximity, as well as Robin herself. She's still going to have that final send off and last goodbye, but not as a dark, broken thing bereft of hope. Rather as one littered with battle scars, but still standing tall and determined.

Her and Chrom both.

Emm would be proud. T-T

So . . . while I was staring at the screen, trying to find the purpose of this chapter, Chrom did me a solid near the end. Well, at the beginning and middle too. *grumbles. Fine, maybe he messes with my brain too* :p

He brings balance to Robin when Robin is internally freaking out. I liked that he recognized that the fairy tale that is Chrobin isn't all roses and rainbows. That to be together, they both have to sacrifice things that are important to them, but nowhere as near important than they are to each other. Ostensibly, Robin's life would have been a lot more peaceful-until Grima caught up with her-if she hadn't gotten tangled up with the Shepherds, Chrom, and Fate. That's not something she's ever considered before. And, truth be told, not really something she's considering even now. Because life without Chrom wouldn't be life at all.

It was totally unplanned, but I'm so glad he also slipped in the second proposal-not just one of becoming man and wife, but king and queen-complete partners in everything.

And now that I've written the mini-epic of an end note, I finally get what this chapter is and needed to be: a transition. Shadow to light. Seed to flower. Broken heart to healing heart. General to king and tactician to queen.

*and now I have Stahl singing softly in the back of my head about tactically perfect tacticians perfecting tactics tactically*

The transition will be complete after they get married-and then the Robin Arc! (And then to Walmart-er, Walhart . . .) So, so very excited for this! The Robins (and Chrom's) filled me in on a snapshot of what's coming and I can't wait to pin everything down in words! They even helpfully provided me with the beginnings of a soundtrack for the general mood and shape of the story: /xJ7RevokdAQ

So yay! Apologies in advance for any missing words or typos. Migraines are to my brain what a salad spinner is to lettuce or microwaves to boiled eggs. :p

Have a great week!


Celestia Mist: Awww, thank you very much! I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D

Guest: You and me both! Thank you for stopping by! :)

RoastedButter: Haha! Indeed! Awww, thank you! I really, really adore Chrobin fluff. :D As for one-shots . . . I, uh, have have a really, really hard time keeping things short and one-shotted. Backstories spring up, tempting previews of what could happen next, and before I know it, we're close to half a million words and Chrom and Robin are only just about to be-but haven't yet-married. . I appreciate your vote of confidence though, because learning how to write good flash ficition is something I'm going to be practicing next year. :)

1. Smol Robin is a force of nature. . She's helping here and there-will be a lot more apparent during Robin's Arc-and will grow into her role as well. I guess you could call the Robin Arc, the Robins Arc. Chaos. Mayhem. And magic. Heh-guess which Robin goes where. :p

2. No, M!Chrom can't really cross over any better than our Chrom. He is a lot more aware-for instance, that there are other Realms-and can peek through, but no, he's back in the Mirror Realm. Which is fortuitous since Lucina and Reflet are on their way to the Mirror Realm as we speak. ;-)

3. Haha! So much this! Know that you are not alone. I have to go back and refresh the details in my memory on a consistent basis. And I still have to cross-reference. .

Very glad to be back and happy to see you! *grin* Haha! Yeah, I don't have much of a life either, so it works out well. :D

Phlairee: Aww, thank you so much! It always brightens my day to know that people are enjoying Fractured, and Chrobin, and Fractured Chrobin. ;-p I'm very happy to be back, and have missed you all very much as well. Thank you for the prayers-they've definitely helped quite a bit. :) Have a great week!

Celestia Mist: Haha! You and me both! :p Have a great week!