Rigged from the Start

Interlude VII

Bursting to the Surface

Severa

Regna Ferox was always cold, but the past few weeks held a bitterness that I never felt before. Even though we were stationed at the southernmost reaches of Feroxi territory, taking shelter in the Longfort while the higher-ups plotted our next move, it still felt so gawds damned cold. At first, I thought it was just the temperature dropping. Then I remembered it was still summer, and even Regna Ferox could warm up on a sunny day.

But the sun didn't warm me. The longer we tarried at the Longfort, the more my heart sank. Often I found myself unable to sleep, especially when early morning came. I would wake up, put on my gear, and march to the top of the wall to gaze south at Plegia. I couldn't help but wonder if all hope for Sam was gone. Was there any to begin with?

That was where I stood this morning too, with my hands folded behind my back and my eyes closed as I breathed in the chilly air. The sun started rising in the east, mostly obscured by a thick blanket of gray clouds. I barely felt its warmth. A long breath went into my lungs, then back out in a slow, steady puff of mist.

Footsteps drew near me. My eyes opened and I heard a voice that I had been trying to avoid for many days now.

"There she is!" Owain declared, "The intrepid heroine. The newest master of infiltration who is capable of surviving the bleakest of circumstances. An early riser… that's very new actually. Perhaps your feelings towards this war must be-"

"Shut the fuck up, Owain," I muttered, zero enthusiasm in my voice. I kept my gaze focused on the south, hoping that Owain would go away if I ignored him.

Owain sputtered beside me. He cleared his throat, and for once, that ridiculous, over-the-top persona he enjoyed fell away.

"Severa, are you alright?"

I snorted. "Do I look alright to you?"

Owain pursed his lips and leaned against the wall, folding his hands in front of him. His blue eyes followed my gaze to the Plegian Wastes in the distance. He nodded his head, understanding without me having to say a word.

"Samwise is fine," He said, trying to reassure me. It didn't work.

"Everyone keeps telling me that," I sighed, tucking my chin as my gaze retreated from the horizon for the first time. "Lucina had told me that. Exalt Emmeryn has told me that. You're telling me that. And… and I so desperately want it to be true."

"But?"

"But the chances of Sam actually being alive are slim to none," I mumbled, not even having enough energy to snarl at Owain. "You don't know what we ran into in that damn Palace, Owain. It was… some kind of monster. And that little bastard," I scoffed as Sam's actions returned to my thoughts for the millionth time. "That little piece of shit decided to die instead of run with me."

"Perhaps he didn't think he had any other choice?" Owain wondered.

He had no idea how deep those words cut. Perhaps it was Owain with his textbook poor wording, but what he said stung. Regardless of the innocent intent behind his words, it made me twirl towards him and smack him. Owain blinked, stunned as my hand left a red imprint on his cheek.

"Of course he had a choice," I growled. "He, he…"

My words caught in my throat as tears threatened to overwhelm me. Did Sam think he had no choice? I had acted so cold towards him since we found Morgan in the Ice Fields. While I was still hurt by his choice not to trust me, the more I thought about his decision to keep me in the dark, the more I came to the world-shattering realization that he wasn't trying to hurt me. He was trying to protect me. After seeing what I saw in Doluna's Palace, I understood that more than ever.

But I couldn't let go of the anger that burned inside of me. It wasn't only directed at Sam. It was also directed at the enemy, at Grima. That monster took another friend from me, and I could do nothing to stop him.

I swallowed hard and uttered a heavy breath. "Sorry, Owain. That was uncalled for."

"No-no, Severa I am… wait, you're apologizing?"

I snorted. "Don't get used to it." My gaze returned to the horizon as another frigid breeze swept over the Longfort from the north. "Do you mind giving me a moment alone? I'll be down in a little while to help with whatever Lucina and Morgan are working on."

Owain blinked. "You still don't know what they're doing?"

I huffed. "Didn't bother checking."

"They're putting together a plan to rescue Samwise. Me and Nah are in on it too. So is Gaius and, surprisingly, Anna." A broad grin formed on his face as I gave him a dumbfounded look. He jabbed his thumb at his chest. "Us daring heroes will never leave a brave comrade behind! We shall march into the heart of darkness itself to save Samwise the Lucky- no- Samwise the Brave!"

I couldn't help but utter a soft chuckle at Owain's antics. "Never change, Owain," I breathed. "Even though it's not going to work, don't change." My hands brushed against the ramparts. "We need to focus on killing the Fell Dragon. Nothing else matters now."

Owain grimaced. "Er- right, of course, that is the overall goal. Lucina made sure to remind us about that." When my dour expression remained, he nudged my shoulder. "Come, Severa. Join the rest of us for a warm, hearty breakfast. The Feroxi make excellent bacon. I hear we might even have Khan Flavia dining with us this time. She seems to have taken a liking to the Shepherds."

I snorted. "Does that really surprise you?"

Owain shrugged. "I am mostly surprised- no- shocked that she is so similar to her future persona. All crass and made of the strongest brass. Truly nothing can faze the Great Khan and-"

"You two better be talking about me," A low, teasing voice said, making Owain freeze and me sigh.

I turned my head to the right and saw a hulking, dark-skinned man march up the stairs to the top of the walls. He was bare-chested, wearing only heavy, leather pants, a thick fur collar around his neck, and an eyepatch over his left eye. His bald head somehow shined in the dim morning light. A lazy smirk sat on his lips when he reached us. One of his hands settled on the rampart while the other rested on top of a large hand ax strapped to his hip. Once by my side, he nudged me with his elbow.

"I've never seen a frown on someone's face when they talked about the mighty Khan Basilio," He said with a chuckle.

Owain cleared his throat. "Actually we were talking about-"

"Now I know that Khan Flavia is in charge, but we all know who the superior Feroxi warrior is," Basilio interrupted, a mischievous twinkle in his one, dark eye. "Would be a shame if you thought otherwise. I'd have to duel you to regain my honor and respect."

Owain paled, and that finally managed to get a laugh from me. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was enough to make the large Khan smack me hard between the shoulder blades, nearly knocking me over the rampart.

"That's it, kid. Laughter is the second-best medicine in this world."

"What's the first?" I asked.

Basilio opened his mouth, paused, then grunted. "Actually it's probably the third-best. The second best is fighting. The first is… well… how old are you?"

"Oh Naga," Owain cringed.

"I ain't hitting on her, ya little shit," Basilio chuckled. "Just trying to word things carefully. Don't want Marth giving me a stern look. She may be young but she's got ice in those eyes of her. She'd make a fine Khan in her own right, I tell you."

If only he knew how close he was. Now that I thought about it, Lucina would make a decent Khan. Although, I don't think she had the same jovial opinion about fighting that Khan Basilio or Khan Flavia possessed. She'd make a better Exalt than Khan.

One day, she might get that chance too. Although, I'm not sure how likely it will be. It felt like everything in the world was against us. We may have saved Exalt Emmeryn, but the Plegian army was still marching towards the Longfort, ready to crush us in one massive battle. Also, a monster occupied the Plegian palace in the meantime. All I could think about was how many more friends we would lose in this stupid conflict.

"Hey," Basilio nudged my arm again, "Chin up, lass. If you're gloomy about our prospects for the coming battle against Gangrel, well, you're betting against the wrong side. That mad nutter will not know what hit him."

I cracked a strained smile. "I hope you're right." My smile wavered. "I'm beginning to wish our victories didn't cost so much."

"If they didn't have a steep cost, then we wouldn't treasure them so much," Basilio replied, making me puzzled. "Loss is part of life, Miss Severa. Now, that doesn't mean ya don't get pissed about it. It means ya grieve, then ya live. There's no point in staying miserable forever."

I grimaced. The Khan had a point. But, he also hadn't lost so many people close to him. Grima has taken almost everything from me. He took my parents, took my mentors, took my friends' parents, took my home, and now his wretched followers took Sam. It was hard for me to continue fighting knowing that despite how much I struggled, it was never enough.

A deep breath went in and out of Basilio's lungs. His one eye narrowed as he peered into the distance. "Now what the hell is that?"

I whipped my eyes to the horizon. A small shape emerged, rushing towards us. I recognized it was a camel with one rider and a body strapped over its rump. My breath hitched when the camel got closer to the Longfort and I recognized who was on it.

"Tharja?" I breathed. Then I saw the body on the back of the camel and my heart lurched to my throat. "Sam!"

I didn't hear Khan Basilio call to me as I spun around and rushed down the steps towards the gate. As I sprinted, I cupped my hands around my lips.

"Open the gate! Open it, gawds damn it!"

Vaike, Sully, Gaius, and Donnel all lingered near the gate. When they heard me shouting, they gave me confused looks. Gaius then peeked through the gate's irons bars. His eyes widened and he whipped his gaze back to me.

"Is that who I think it is?" He gawked.

"Who?" Sully peered through the gate. In a flash, she drew her sword. "We got a Grimleal approaching the gate!"

"We do?" Donnel gulped. "Why would we open the gate for them?"

"She has Sam," I hissed.

To my relief, the iron bars shuddered and started to rise. As they rose, Feroxi Lancers emerged from the towers alongside the large gate. They formed a semi-circle barrier made of steel spears and heavy armor, blocking the road through the gate, but allowing the camel rider into the Longfort.

As soon as Tharja passed through the gate's shadow, she slowed the pace of her steed. The camel snorted, bleated, then puffed. With a click of her tongue, Tharja ordered the camel to kneel. Once settled on the ground, the dark mage slid off of the camel and rushed around to Sam, who lay strapped unconscious to its back. I moved just as fast towards him.

"Get a healer!" Tharja shouted. When she spotted me, she let out a relieved sigh. "I did all I could, but he's not in good shape.

"Why not?" I barked as she untied Sam and pulled him off of the camel. That's when I saw the gashes littering his torso, the sunburned skin across his back, as well as the starved state of his body. My entire body shook with fear and fury. I reached out and took Tharja by the collar of her robes. "What did you do to him!?"

"I-" Tharja shoved my hands from her robes, a snarl on her lips "-got him away from the monsters that did this to him. Consider it payment for the life debt I owed both of you."

Healers rushed our way, led by a beautiful man with long, flowing blond hair and wearing elegant, cream-colored robes from the Church of Naga. Libra was a recent addition to the Shepherd's, who swore his allegiance to Prince Chrom and Exalt Emmeryn. We ran into him in the desert as he trekked to Doluna along with a group of five other priests. They hoped to free the Exalt themselves and were more than relieved when they learned that me, Lucina, Morgan, Anna, and Kushi did it for them. I didn't interact with Libra much, but I was forever grateful we stumbled on him. No one was a better healer in the Shepherds.

Libra and the healers immediately started work on Sam, even as a stretcher came over to scoop him up. I intended to follow, only for Libra to hold up a hand.

"We have work to do. I'll find you once we're done."

"But-"

"Let them do their jobs, Ginger," Gaius said, putting a hand on my shoulder. My face fell as Libra and the clerics rushed Sam inside of the Longfort's main barracks. "C'mon, lunch is almost ready."

Gaius and the other Shepherds gave Tharja a wary look. As we walked away, I noticed her dark eyes following us with a tense glare. She strode in the opposite direction, guiding her camel towards the stables. I did wonder what was going to happen to her, but that was not the main focus for me right now.

Sam was alive. He was severely injured, but alive. As soon as Libra gave the okay, I was going to go speak to him. I needed to talk to him.

That time came faster than I thought. It was a couple of hours after lunch when one of the clerics came to fetch me from the barracks. I had been a nervous wreck as I waited, pacing to and fro in the common room while the other Shepherds mingled and made small talk. Lucina, Morgan, and Anna anxious, but not as nervous as me. When the cleric opened the door, Morgan caught me by the hand, making me pause.

"It's gonna be okay," She reassured me with a soft smile.

I nodded, slipped my hand from her grasp, and marched after the cleric towards the infirmary.

The infirmary had two guards in front of it. Both guards stiffened when we approached. At first, I thought it was because they didn't know who I was. Then, the infirmary door opened. Chrom, Robin, Khan Flavia, and Exalt Emmeryn emerged from inside. All four of them looked at me, and I feared the worst. Then, Khan Flavia cracked a broad smile and strode in my direction.

"The stripling's a tough one," She said, smacking my shoulder as she strode away.

Confusion filled me. What did she mean by that? I moved to enter, only for Emmeryn to hold up a hand, stopping me.

"He's weak, right now," She said. "I helped Libra tend to him, but he cannot be put under any further stress whatsoever."

I swallowed hard. The grim look on Emmeryn's face told me that, despite Flavia's optimism, Sam had a hard road of recovery ahead.

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"We didn't ask," Prince Chrom said. "We just came by to make sure he would be alright. Robin left him a quill and paper so he could write down what happened if he wanted to. Figured that might be easier than talking it over for him, right now."

I nodded. "Makes sense. Um," I pursed my lips, "thank you."

Prince Chrom nodded, patted my shoulder, and stepped out of the way. Robin followed him, both of them striding down the hall back to the barracks common room. Exalt Emmeryn lingered a moment, standing in my way.

"A few minutes, okay?" She said. "Then he must rest. Libra will let you know when."

"Understood," I replied.

She gave me a soft smile. "Good," She stepped out of my way and gestured inside, "He's waiting."

My throat tightened and my stomach twisted. Every heartbeat hammered in my chest. I drew in a deep breath, preparing myself for facing Sam. After swallowing all my anxiety, I stepped into the infirmary and shut the door behind me.

Only one bed was occupied in the infirmary. It sat near the window, where faint sunlight streamed in through the foggy glass. Sam lay on the mattress, his face turned to the window. Two empty vulneraries sat on the small table beside his bed. Bandages and salves covered his torso, while his lower half was covered by a fur blanket. What struck me the most though, was how thin he looked. I could count the ribs in his chest, could see his collarbones through his skin.

When he turned to look at me, I froze. He looked sickly. His face was pale and his eyes a tad sunken. But, there was a spark in his gaze when he saw me. His dry, chapped lips parted into a weary grin.

"Sorry I can't sit up for ya," he said, voice quiet in the silent room. "Doctor's orders. I'm not supposed to move a single muscle until I've gotten more nutrients in me."

My hands trembled at my sides as I stared at him. Sam arched an eyebrow and glanced down at himself.

"Oh, all this?" He tried to shrug, but it looked more like a small shift of his shoulders. "Don't worry about it. It's just-"

"How can I not worry about it?" I breathed, taking another tentative step forward. With one, shaky hand, I grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it towards his bedside. Once I sat down, I bowed my head and drew in a deep breath. "Gawds," I wiped at my eyes with both of my hands. "Sam, what did I tell you about picking your battles?"

He didn't reply right away. Maybe he was thinking my question over? Or, maybe he was ignoring it. I wouldn't blame him for that. It's not like he had to answer to me for anything at this point.

"That one was worth it," he replied, causing my head to snap up. I stared at him, mouth open, tears misting in my eyes when he gave me a small nod. "Yup, worth it."

"Worth it?" I croaked. I gestured at his emaciated body. "What could be worth this?"

"Agh," He managed to weakly wave off my question. "You should see the other guy." A small snicker left his lips. "The look on his face when he tried to get stuff out of me; oh, that was priceless. Almost as good as when you and Gaius lit Aversa on fire in the future."

A strained chuckle left my lips. "Yeah, that was… that was something." I looked down at my hands, pulling on my fingers as I sat. "Sam, you still didn't answer my question." He tilted his head and I took a deep, calming breath. "Why was it worth it? Why was getting captured, tortured, possibly dying worth it? You can't complete the mission when you're dead, Samwise."

Again, he was quiet for a moment. A very long moment. Then, a small smile cracked on his lips.

"The mission wasn't the most important thing at that moment," he replied.

My heart stopped in my chest. I wasn't sure what he meant when he said that? I mean, I had an inkling of what he meant, but I wasn't sure how to handle it. Butterflies bounced around my stomach. I broke eye contact with him as my hands trembled in my lap. A strange warmth spread through me as his words settled in my mind. Of course, that only made me tear up more.

"You stupid idiot," I muttered, eliciting a dry laugh from Sam.

"Trust me, this idiot is feeling the consequences. But, like I said, it was worth it." He replied. I raised my gaze and saw him smirking at me. "You got out safe and sound. That's what was important."

He winced, eyes squeezing closed as a shaky breath rattled from his lungs. Without thinking, I reached out and took his hand in mind. His fingers were cold against mine, but that only made me want to hold on tighter.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I croaked as a tear dripped down my cheek. "Y-you were only trying to do what you thought was right. And while I'm still upset with you, I-I never wanted you to think I would always be angry with you. I-"

"To be fair," Sam interrupted, his voice growing quieter as his eyes remained half-open. "Keeping what I knew from you was a major breach of trust."

I sniffled. "Yeah, it was, but… you only did it because you thought that was the right thing to do. You weren't trying to hurt me. I recognize that now." I sniffed and used my free hand to wipe away the tears from my eyes. As I did that, my heart hammered in my chest. My fingers interweaved with his. "Don't do it again, please, Samwise."

Sam nodded. After another wince, I moved to let go of his hand, only for him to squeeze it a little, keeping me in place. A small smile cracked over his lips.

"Hey," He muttered, "the name's Samuel, you know. Not Samwise." He uttered a quiet chuckle. "I can thank Owain for that mix-up."

A small smile formed on my lips. He looked exhausted. I stayed for too long. Libra was probably on his way to shoo me out. But, I didn't leave right away. Instead, I found myself leaning in as his eyes started to close.

I placed a small peck on his cheek.

"Thanks for making sure I made it, Samuel."

A shaky breath left my lips when I pulled away. At that point, Sam's chest rose and fell with quiet, steady breaths. He was asleep. Carefully, I let go of his hand and rose from my seat. Right as I reached the infirmary door to leave, it opened, revealing Libra about to enter. The priest blinked, then bowed his head.

"He's resting," I muttered.

"Good," Libra nodded. "I'll fetch you when Samwise is ready to chat again. It's good for him."

"Thank you," I replied. I paused as I exited and glanced over my shoulder at Libra before he could shut the door. "His name is Samuel, by the way."

Libra drew back, surprised. "Is it? I got the impression that it was-"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Call him either, he'll respond to it." I let out a long exhale. "We can thank that dumbass Owain for the mix-up. Um…" I tucked my chin. "Please keep me posted."

"Of course. You have a good day, Miss Severa."

The door shut, but I didn't want it to. I didn't even want to leave his side. Would he leave mine if I was in a similar situation? Who knows. What I do know is that I kissed him on the cheek, which caused me to touch my fingers to my lips.

Instead of getting frustrated with myself for doing that, I smiled to myself. A quiet laugh left my lips. I strode down the hall, already getting excited for the next time I could sit and talk with Samuel.

Cordelia

Let's see.

My gaze flicked through the supply tent as I chewed on the end of a brand new quill. A checklist sat in my other hand as I scanned the various crates, barrels, boxes, and containers within the vast tent. As usual, it was hopelessly disorganized. No matter how much work I put into keeping things in order for the Shepherds, every time we uprooted and moved camp, it wound up in this sorry state all over again. Then, it was up to me to make sure everything was still accounted for.

Not that I minded doing this sort of work. I found it quite relaxing. Counting containers of soup, weapons on the racks, arrows, quivers, empty water skins- those were especially important right now- was soothing. In a world, and occupation, where everything felt chaotic, I took great pleasure in putting my small corner of camp in order.

A heavy breath left my lips as I gazed at the mess. I stopped gnawing on the quill and tapped it against the checklist on the clipboard.

I wouldn't mind some help with this mess though. A small frown formed on my lips. Perhaps I should ask Anna? She likely has experience keeping things in order.

I shook my head as soon as that thought came to mind. Asking Anna to assist was not an option. The Shepherds already owed her an exorbitant sum of money thanks to Marth and her friends. Asking her to assist in organizing the supply tent would only serve to empty their already low coffers further.

It's incredible how expensive war is.

I moved to the first stack of crates, set the quill and checklist down, and popped open the top. Jars of cooking ingredients. Good to know. I scribbled that down on the list, replaced the lid, then moved to open the next crate.

I wonder if Anna will continue to assist us? I opened the next crate. Cooking supplies; plenty of pots and pans. Perhaps too many? Noted. She may not like us very much, but she enjoys Samwise and Severa's company.

That was a curious thought for me. I had not interacted much with those two ex-Plegian scouts since I captured and delivered them to the Exalt. They kept to themselves for the most part, and I took no issue with that. Curiously, Severa actively avoided me, but she also appeared to be a prickly person who could hold an enormous grudge. Or, that is what Gaius has told me, at least.

Yet, there also appeared to be a softness to Severa that she rarely let show. When that Plegian mage, Tharja, showed up at the Longfort with Samwise on the back of her camel, Severa's abrasiveness evaporated. In the days following Samwise's rescue, she visited him daily. Once, I ran into her coming out of the infirmary, and she was smiling. I had never seen her smile before. She erased it when she saw me, but it was still a good thing to see. She was a part of the Shepherds now, and despite our previous animosity, I wanted her to be alright. And, I did not want us to be adversaries.

Were we adversarial? I tapped my chin with the quill as I went through the checklist. I don't think I was?

The tent door opened, drawing me from my work.

"Ah, Cordelia, there you are," Robin said as he stepped inside, his hands shoved into his coat pockets.

"You were looking for me?" I replied, surprised and a bit puzzled.

"Yes," Robin nodded. "I tried the barracks, the mess hall, the stables, the pegasi stables, the armory-"

"And you did not think to check here first?" I questioned, a small laugh leaving my lips as I set the checklist and quill down on a crate.

Robin opened his mouth, then closed it. He blinked. "Well, now that you say it like that, I suppose I should have checked here first. This does seem to be a hobby of yours."

"Hobby?"

"W-well what I mean is that you enjoy putting things in order every day. You and Frederick are quite similar in that regard," Robin stammered.

I narrowed my eyes. "Frederick also likes setting things on fire."

Not missing a beat, Robin replied. "And you don't?"

I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and picked up the checklist and quill once again. "I know how to start one, Robin. That doesn't mean I'm a pyromaniac." I made note of the number of crates filled with salted meat. "Is there something you need?"

"Is there something I need?" He parroted as he followed me along the rows of crates and boxes.

"There has to be a reason you came here," I replied. A teasing smile crossed my lips. "Unless you just wanted to come see me."

The perplexed expression on Robin's face crushed that reason. After thinking hard a moment, Robin jumped where he stood, snapping his fingers and startling me in the process.

"Oh, right! The reason I'm here. The reason we're both standing next to a crate of-" He sniffed the air "-is that fish?"

I sniffed and detected the rancid stench of fish as well. My nose wrinkled. "Must be."

"Several days old fish is not exactly healthy to-"

"Robin," I interrupted, causing his mouth to snap closed. "Your reason?"

"Right, right." Robin folded his hands behind his back. "What do you think of Severa?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Oh, did you not hear me? Strange, since we're so close to each other." Robin cleared his throat. "What do you think of-"

I raised my hand. "I-I heard you, Robin. I was just taken aback by your question."

Robin tilted his head, puzzled. "How so?"

I didn't know whether to laugh, scoff, or grin. "Sometimes, Robin..." I shook my head then took a deep breath. "An honest opinion of Severa?"

"If you don't mind."

I hummed then nodded, staying silent for a moment as I pondered Robin's request. Did he want to know my opinion of Severa as a person, or as a warrior? Did he want my feelings about her or an objective analysis? Knowing Robin, he'd appreciate the latter. So, that's the route I went.

"Severa is, from what I have observed in the yard, an extremely capable warrior and-"

Robin waved a hand, cutting me off. "Yes, yes, I know that already. I've been observing her myself. She is going to fit into plenty of our battle formations like a hand in a glove. What I want to know is your personal opinion of her? What to make of her as a person?"

Now I was not only puzzled, but I was also curious. Why would Robin want to know someone else's opinion about Severa's personality?

"Are you infatuated with her Robin?" I asked, brow furrowed as I tried to piece together the puzzle that is always Robin's thinking process.

Robin sputtered. "In-Infatuated? N-No, we've hardly spoken since we met."

"So you aren't attempting to court her in any way?"

A scarlet blush shot over Robin's cheeks, but it was not due to having feelings for Severa. If that was the case, he would have smiled. I should know since I knew exactly what an in-love-blush looks like. I have seen it on Sumia several times. No, Robin was flustered and mildly embarrassed, even a little frustrated. He huffed and rubbed his brow.

"No, I am not," He puffed before placing his hands on his hips. He didn't look frustrated with me, but I could see he was struggling with something. "Perhaps this would be easier to explain in my tent."

Before I could say anything, Robin took me by my wrist and pulled me towards the supply tent exit. Right as we reached the door, I dug my heels in, jerking Robin to a stop. He spun around to me, head tilted in confusion.

"Is something the matter?"

"Why would we have to go to your tent?" I asked, realizing that he still held my wrist.

"Because discussing children is always best done in a personal tent."

My mouth fell open. "Ch-Children?"

"Yes, now come along. There isn't much time, and you may be able to help me on this matter."

"R-Robin wait-"

He didn't wait. We burst out of the supply tent and he marched me towards his tent, which was halfway between the supply tent and Prince Chrom's tent. The perfect distance for him to check on our armaments and to deliver strategy when needed. For that entire distance, as we passed by several Ylissean and Feroxi soldiers, my cheeks burned. I was certain they were as red as my hair and they only grew redder when Robin pushed his tent door open and pulled me inside.

"Robin," I wrenched my wrist free from his grasp once we were inside. "I- um-" I pulled some stray strands of hair back behind my left ear. "While I am flattered by you wanting to talk about children with me I am… afraid… I…"

My voice trailed off when I finally focused on the inside of Robin's tent. He always liked to live more spartan than the rest of us, preferring little furnishings or luxuries. The one comfort he requested whenever we set up camp was a large desk and a decent chair for him to sit at. As a result, he never had much clutter in his tent, which freed up space for stacks of tomes and scrolls that he used for research purposes.

Those tomes, books, and scrolls were all tossed to one side of the tent, stacked on top of his bed, desk, and chair. Sprawling along the other side of the tent was a massive web of string attached to various names and hand-drawn portraits. The names and portraits were of our fellow Shepherds. Meanwhile, the string crawled across the canvass wall towards other names and hastily scribbled notes.

"Uh… Robin?" I finally muttered.

Robin rubbed his chin as he stared at the wall. I could see his lips moving as he muttered something under his breath. Did he forget I was in his tent with him?

"Robin?"

"Hm? Oh, right," He gestured to his web of drawings, notes, names, and string. "Side-project I think you can help me with."

I gawked at him. "Side project? Shouldn't you be putting together strategies for the upcoming battle with Plegia?"

"Done, for the most part," Robin said with a dismissive wave. "I'll check it over more in a couple of hours. Besides, Chrom told me I can't concentrate on strategy all the time or I would go insane."

I gave him an incredulous look. "I think it's safe to say you've already gone insane."

"Hm?" Robin twisted to look at me, causing me to suck in a breath. "Did you say something?"

"Nope."

"Huh," Robin shrugged. "Anyways. You like putting stuff in order, and I hope you won't smack me upside the head as hard as Frederick did when he spotted the start of this project. So, I think you can help me." He stepped back to my side and gestured at the web. "Tell me, what do you see."

"A reason to worry," I said without thinking.

"My thoughts exactly. Well, not necessarily worry, anymore. I did at first." Robin stepped towards his web and tapped Chrom's name. "I shall explain things from the top. We will start with Chrom and Marth."

"Wait." My head wanted to spin on my shoulders as I reeled. I blinked and peered closer at the web, noticing how Chrom and Marth's names were tied together. "Robin, what is going on? Is this… is this some sort of strange relationship tracker?"

"Oh, that's a good idea," Robin remarked with a smile. My shoulders slumped as a defeated breath left my lips. "Thanks for that. But, no, this is not that. Well, it sort of is. It's complicated. Regardless, I believe Chrom and Marth are linked."

"Romantically?" I groaned, hoping beyond hope that Robin would say no.

"No," Robin replied, making my heart jump. "He and Sumia are romantically linked."

The sound of glass shattering echoed through my mind. "O-oh," I drew back a step, struggling to process what Robin said. "This is all just a theory, right?"

"No."

"How is not a theory?" I questioned, my brow furrowing.

"I caught them in bed together yesterday morning," Robin said nonchalantly. Now, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball even as embarrassment shot over my face. "There was plenty of profuse apologizing when that happened, from both sides. Also, Sumia did throw something at me. Pretty sure it was a mirror. Why they would need a mirror while copulating, I have no idea, but-"

"The point, Robin," I grimaced, now hoping that this conversation would end quickly. I needed to leave, distract myself with some work, then nurse a bottle of firewine later tonight. "Please."

"Right, right, thanks for getting me back on track. This does tie in with Sumia and Chrom having sex."

"Of course it does," I whimpered.

"But first, I will lay out the evidence behind my hypothesis." Robin cleared his throat, folded his hands behind his back, and spun on his heel to face me. "First things first," he nodded to a drawing of Falchion between both Chrom and Marth, "Falchion. After scouring every historical tome and scroll with the help of Miriel and Ricken, we could not find any evidence of a second Falchion on record. Yet, Marth has what appears to be an exact replica. How could this be?"

"Magic," I droned as my heart stayed shattered in my chest from Robin's first revelation.

Robin raised a finger, opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. "That's… huh, possible but unlikely. There are two plausible theories for a parallel Falchion to exist. Theory one: Naga created another and handed it to a different member of her blessed bloodline without anyone's knowledge. Given the importance of such a weapon, this is, in my opinion, the least likely."

"And the most likely?" I sighed.

Robin plucked the string connected Chrom and Sumia. Then he pulled on the center of the string and bent it until it touched Marth's name. It took a moment for the significance of this gesture to hit me. When it did, all the breath left my body.

"W-what?" I squeaked.

"Marth is Chrom and Sumia's child."

I stared at Robin, slack-jawed. "Th-that's impossible. Marth is… how old is Marth?"

"Eighteen," Robin replied.

"And Prince Chrom is twenty!" I exclaimed.

"Which is why this theory was the least likely until I observed a pattern." Robin let go of the string and shifted over to the next set of names: Princess Lissa and Owain. "I have reason to believe that Lissa is Owain's mother."

My head spun. I shook it hard, squeezed my eyes shut, and took a deep, calming breath. Level heads needed to prevail right now. Robin was clearly suffering from some sort of mental break. Hopefully Libra was available to help him.

"Robin," I said gently. "Have you slept recently?"

"No, I've been busy," Robin sniffed. "Let me explain. First, I was observing Owain's training and noticed how similar his combat style is to Lon'qu." Robin gestured to Lon'qu's name and portrait. "You would think that, because of those similarities, they would be frequent sparring partners. Yet, every time Lon'qu has approached Owain to do that, Owain scurries away. He is not like that with any other Shepherd except for the one woman that Lon'qu has had a conversation longer than five sentences with."

"Lissa," I said.

Robin nodded, excitement brimming in his red eyes. "Yes! Owain is actively avoiding both of them. Why?"

"Why indeed?" I mumbled. Thankfully, Robin did not hear me.

"Then, that leads us to Nah and Nowi."

"Robin," I huffed and folded my arms, my patience starting to run thin. "If you are about to tell me that Nowi- Nowi- has a child, I am going to march out of this tent."

Robin gave me a puzzled look. "I think they're cousins."

I blinked. "O-oh. Well, that's possible I guess?"

"Then lastly," Robin moved to a final cluster of names: Severa, Samwise, and… mine. He then gestured at Severa. "Severa is like Owain and Lucina. I believe she is related to you, Cordelia."

I glared wide-eyed at Robin, some anger swelling inside of me. "Robin, be very careful right now."

"Careful how?" Robin questioned, confused. "Do you know something?"

"This is insane, Robin."

Robin bobbed his head back and forth. "Then explain to me why Severa avoids you like Owain avoids Lissa and Lon'qu, and like Lucina avoids Chrom and Sumia."

"I don't know!" I bellowed, causing Robin to take a startled step back, nearly getting tangled in his intricate web. "But if you are somehow insinuating that Severa is my child Robin, I have news for you: I have never been pregnant. For Naga's sake, I have never even had a serious relationship with a man before!"

Robin furrowed his brow. "Never?"

I took a threatening step forward, my jaw clenched. "Never."

Robin looked me up and down, somehow not intimidated. "Strange. For such a stunning woman, I would think you'd have suitors lining up for you back home."

His statement caught me so off guard that all of my anger evaporated. I blinked, mouth open. At that moment, I realized how close I was to him, and how my chest rose and fell with heavy breaths while he looked back at me, unfazed. A slight smirk quivered on his lips.

"Do you want me to continue?" He asked, his voice much quieter than before. Perhaps I did intimidate him?

I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, then sighed. "Why not. I already planned on getting drunk later anyway."

Robin gave me a concerned look as I stepped back. "That's hardly conducive to effective training."

"You just told me that my best friend and my crus-" I managed to catch myself before finishing that sentence. "My best friend and Chrom are in a relationship."

"So you need to get drunk?" Robin questioned, confused.

"Let's consider it a lonely celebration," I muttered as I rubbed my right arm and took my eyes away from Robin. "Keep going already."

Robin tilted his head, squinted at me, then shrugged. "Very well. Evidence for Severa being your daughter." I groaned as Robin continued. "For one, the red hair."

"Sully, Miriel, and Anna all have red hair."

"Counter-argument," Robin chimed, making me raise an eyebrow. "Sully is a possibility, but she has shown no romantic inclinations towards anyone, yet. Therefore, I discounted her until further evidence presents itself. Miriel would never allow a child of hers to not be a mage."

"Fair point," I admitted.

"And," Robin continued, "I'm pretty sure Anna is attracted to women." My mouth fell open. "But, that's evidence I can present at another time. Discounting all of the other redheaded women leaves you, Cordelia. Peer a little closer, and more pieces start to go together. Severa is an almost unparalleled warrior, very much like you. From what I can see, only Marth can best her in combat. She moves similarly to you too."

I blinked. "Y-you watch me train?"

"Of course I do," Robin replied, not missing a beat. "I need to observe your progress for formations. Plus, you are an exemplary example of how to conduct training exercises. The best even. Please do not tell Frederick I said that."

I snorted out a laugh. "Depends on how the rest of this conversation goes."

"Right, the rest of this theory," Robin cleared his throat. "Severa also avoids you like the plague, as daughters tend to do."

"I don't avoid my mother like the plague!" I cried, aghast. Robin gave me a pointed look. I shifted beneath his gaze, then pursed my lips. "Perhaps there was a one or two-year stretch where I tried to do things without talking to her."

Robin nodded. "As daughters tend to do," He reiterated. "And it fits the pattern set by Owain and Marth. Nah is also trying to avoid Nowi, but Nowi is relentless and will not leave her alone."

"Okay, okay." I waved for Robin to stop. "This is all well and good, Robin; but, all of this evidence is very… what is the word?"

"Coincidental?"

"Yes," I nodded, "coincidental. It proves nothing, and is still likely impossible."

"But not certainly impossible." Robin swept over to my side again. "I still need to make more observations, of course, but I have a feeling my hypothesis may be correct. There is one snag though," He pointed at Samwise's name then looked at me. "What do you think of Samwise?"

What do I think of Samwise Baggins? That was an excellent question. I had no idea what to think when it came to Samwise. Even though he spoke more often than Severa, he was harder to figure out. It was as if he hid much about himself beneath a veneer of feigned openness, like a frozen lake with unexplored depths beneath the ice. Samwise could speak to anyone as easily as I could step out onto the frozen lake. But no one, with the possible exception of Severa, knew what lay beneath the ice.

"I'm not sure what to think of him," I answered.

"Interesting," Robin nodded. "I'm not sure what to think of him either. Which makes pin-pointing a connection beyond Severa difficult."

"They could be siblings?" I shrugged.

"Ha!" Robin guffawed. "That would be unfortunate. No, no, after seeing how Severa reacted to Samwise's rescue, I believe they are involved."

I turned my head to look at him. "Do you even know what involved means, Robin?"

"Chrom and Sumia would be involved, yes?"

Defeat and sadness smacked my chest. "Yes…"

"That's what I mean then," Robin nodded. "So, they cannot share parentage unless there are some strange cultural customs in Ylisse."

"Definitely not those," I said. "So, you're struggling to connect Sam to this conspiracy of yours?"

"It is not a conspiracy," Robin replied, frowning a little bit. "It is a side-project. A hypothesis that is enjoyable for me to study and observe. Could it be true? Could it be false? I don't know. No one does. That is the reason for my web and for consulting you. You offer a different perspective." Robin rubbed his chin. "So, who of our companions makes sense for Sam's parents?"

I pressed my lips into a thin line, turned to the web, and stared at the many names still unconnected on the list. My gaze drifted to Sumia and Chrom, causing my chest to ache. A long sigh left my lips as Robin waited for my suggestion.

"Robin."

"Yes?" He asked.

"We're going to need firewine."

Robin furrowed his brow. "I fail to see how firewine helps us."

"Well, I need firewine to process all of this," I said, motioning my hand in a circle towards the web.

Robin opened his mouth in understanding. "Ah, I'll grab a bottle."

I expected Robin to leave the tent and head for the supply tent to snatch a bottle. What I did not expect was for Robin to step across his tent to his desk and pull out an unopened bottle from a box beside it, as well as two wooden cups.

"You have firewine in here?"

Robin shrugged. "You never know when you're going to entertain company, right?" He poured me a glass and handed it to me before pouring himself one. "So, shall we go down the list."

I didn't question anything anymore. The more I questioned Robin's thinking, and why he had firewine in his tent in the first place, the more confused I became. So, I just downed my entire glass in one gulp, gasped for breath as the liquor burned down my throat, then pointed at Chrom and Sumia.

"I think we can cross them out."

Tharja

No amount of furs, linens, coats, or cloaks could warm my bones in this infernal icy hellhole. I shivered as I marched through the large military camp on the Feroxi side of the Longfort. According to the damnable barbarians that called this land home, it was a balmy day. Fools, the lot of them! Balmy is a day where I could wear my normal attire without worrying about frostbite.

How can it possibly be summer? My breath misted in front of my face as I pulled the hood to the fur coat I wore tighter over my head. And how can their clothes be so scratchy!?

Another long huff left my lips. An icy wind whipped through the camp, causing tent walls to tremble, flags to flutter, and me to hiss. I stamped my feet against the cold, hard ground. More bitter complaints left my lips. As I marched and complained, I drew scathing glares from the Ylissean and Feroxi soldiers milling through the camp. Although, I doubt my complaining was the cause of such stares.

I made it no secret that I was a Grimleal mage. In my heart, I still am. Everyone at the Longfort knew it too. Did I care though? No, I did not care at all. They could glare at me with all the scorn and disdain they could muster and I would keep walking.

Now if only I could stop shivering.

I stopped in my tracks when I detected a faint, smoky scent on the wind. It did not smell like cooking. If it was food then my mouth would have watered. One thing I could grant these barbarians was this: they know how to grill meat.

No, I did not smell meat cooking. I smelled alchemy. Dark, dangerous alchemy too, judging by the faint wisps of purple smoke passing over my head.

My eyes followed the smokey trail against the gray sky. Slowly, my gaze fell to a tent far removed from the rest of the camp. Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached the tent.

As I approached the tent door, I heard voices inside. Two voices- male and female- chattered in rapid, excited tones. My brow furrowed. I strained my hearing, trying to make out what they were discussing. After all, the smoke I saw indicated dark magic, not normal alchemy. Last I checked, Ylissean mages did not practice the dark arts.

A crow cawed over my head, making me jump. I glared up at the large, black, bird as its dark, glossy eyes stared down at me from its perch on top of the tent. It cawed again, ruffling its feathers, before taking flight on a cold breeze. That's when I realized the voices had stopped talking.

Before I could walk away from the strange tent, the door burst open. A woman wearing thin spectacles and Ylissean mage garb poked her head out. Her inquisitive eyes scanned me as I stood still in front of her.

"Henry," She began, "I believe we have been noticed."

"Oh?" A familiar, dark snicker replied, making an irritated huff leave my lips. Henry appeared behind Miriel, his favorite crow perched on his shoulder. "We have, indeed. Just not by someone who would deliver death for our actions. Darn!"

"Lovely seeing you too," I grumbled.

"This is an acquaintance of yours, Henry?" The woman asked, stepping out of the tent. She was taller than I thought. "No, not just acquaintance; she refers to you by your first name, not your surname. Perhaps a close friend, then? Best friend, even? Lover?"

"Absolutely not," I snarled, although the woman appeared unfazed. "And mind your tongue, Ylissean."

"The name is Miriel, not Ylissean," She replied, not showing any offense at my reply. Instead, she opened a tome in her hand and hefted a piece of charcoal. "And you seem marginally perplexed by my lack of an overly emotional response towards your biting tone. Tell me, how does that make you feel and what are your possible courses of action?" I glared at her, and she nodded. "Murder is a possibility."

"Oh, wonderful! How shall we do it, Tharja? A knife across the throat? Roasted alive with fire? Oh, oh, feed her to my crows?"

"That is certainly not a way to endear ourselves to our new comrades, Henry," I grumbled. Then, I gestured to the tent. "What are you cooking?"

"Enhanced remedies," Miriel immediately replied. "Or, they are an attempt at such a thing. I was curious about the possible healing applications for dark magic alchemy and thus contacted who I believed to be the best source on the topic."

I drew back. "Best source? You didn't think to try asking me?"

Miriel raised her brow. "Should I have? I thought you wished to remain reclusive from the rest of the Shepherds. Your behavior certainly supported such an arrangement, and I was more than willing to comply."

"Of course you were," I frowned.

"Are you two going to fight?" Henry asked, beaming at both of us. His crow cawed excitedly on his shoulder. "Make it a bloody affair, please. I need to see something spectacular today."

My glare shifted to Henry. As always, he seemed to be amused rather than intimidated by my stare. Then again, is it even possible to terrify a madman?

Henry's smiling eyes shifted from me to someone approaching the tent. His insane grin broadened and a light gasp left his lips.

"Ah, General Mustafa!" I froze as Henry spoke. Heavy footsteps drew near me. "It is good to see you. Have you noticed our illicit activities, hm? Come to violently stop us?"

Miriel cocked an eyebrow. "While I find your intellect immensely stimulating, your fascination with achieving a morbid fate is disturbing."

"Thank you," Henry said with a nod.

"No, Henry," Mustafa's rumbling voice replied. I glanced over my shoulder at the towering, Plegian traitor. Somehow, he remained bare-chested despite the Feroxi chill. Although, he also wore a fur cloak over his broad shoulders. Perhaps that somehow helped a little? "And I am not interested at all in what you're concocting in your tent."

"Fair enough. But do you know anyone who might be? We need a test dummy," Henry said.

"Subject," Miriel corrected.

"A dummy subject," Henry nodded.

"No again," Mustafa droned. Henry opened his mouth to reply, but Mustafa quickly cut him off. "And you cannot go and cajole someone into whatever experiment you are doing, Henry. This is Regna Ferox, not Plegia. They will frown on such a thing."

Henry's smile turned to a frown. "All of you are a bunch of party poopers."

"May I ask why you approached us, General?" Miriel inquired.

"I need to speak with Tharja, alone," He eyed Henry, specifically his crow.

Oh, well that's perfect. Henry is spying on us with his birds. Wonderful.

"Very well," I sighed, turning to face Mustafa. "Where shall we talk."

"We can walk and talk, can't we?"

I frowned but did not argue. My position within the camp was tenuous at best, perilous at worst. While the Shepherds readily accepted Henry into their ranks, even if they were a little put off by his madness, they only did so because Mustafa vouched for him. I had no such luck. Even though I rescued one of their comrades, I could see the wary glares tossed my way.

The reputation of my family must reach further than I thought.

I gestured for Mustafa to lead the way, then I followed him without a sound. As we walked away, I heard Miriel and Henry exchange words on magical properties and theories. The topic piqued my interest as well, but I was not about to allow those two buffoons to think I was interested in sparking a friendship. I am a dark mage and a Raad; we do not stoop to such things.

After several moments of silence, Mustafa cleared his throat.

"I'm not going to engage in any pleasantries with you," He muttered, his voice low so that no one could overhear us, even though we had entered a particularly sparse section of the camp. "I am simply going to get to the point. What is your angle?"

I stopped walking and folded my arms. "Angle?"

Mustafa glowered at me. "Yes, angle. I am not stupid, Tharja Raad. You would not be here unless your mother permitted you. And your mother would never allow her precious daughter to join the enemy in a war unless she had an angle she was playing at."

I narrowed my eyes, unintimidated by the giant standing over me. After all, what is a giant of muscle compared to a wielder of magic?

"I owed Samwise Baggins and Severa Daraen a life debt," I replied, keeping my voice monotone. "We Raads take such a thing seriously. Debts always get paid. If you are not proactive in paying them, then you will end up with a price you do not wish to have."

"And do you consider this a worthy price? Being ostracized from your homeland; deemed a traitor and cast out from your family?" Mustafa shook his head. "Again, I'm not a fool. So I ask again, why?"

I had to give Mustafa credit for his persistence. I also made a mental note to never underestimate the good General's instincts or intelligence. He may not be traditionally educated, or a member of a noble Plegian house, but there was a sharpness General Mustafa possessed that precious few in the world had. He saw right through the simple, life debt explanation.

"Why do you think?" I replied, wanting to gauge the situation a bit further.

"Do not play games, girl," Mustafa growled.

"Last I checked this is war," I retorted. "And war is not a game." I let out a weary sigh as I shrugged. "But if you must know, Mother believes Gangrel is going to lose this war. He's too mad, too out of control, and the Grimleal have lost faith in him."

Mustafa furrowed his brow. "Did you ever have faith in him to begin with?"

That caused a smirk to quiver over my lips. "Well, as mother once told me: use a puppet for too long and it is no longer entertaining to others." I saw some color leave Mustafa's features. "Congratulations on choosing the winning side, General."

As I brushed past Mustafa, I added one more comment that I knew would leave him frozen in place.

"How long do you think that will last?"

And chapter! Yes, another interlude this soon, but I think this one was definitely warranted. We needed to see that reunion from Severa's perspective, and get inside her head for it. Also, how adorable was that? We've got some more fluff inbound in future chapters, so I hope you all are prepared! Also, I had an absolute blast writing Cordelia's section. That was just too much fun. This Robin is such a quirky character to write. Finally, Tharja was more than a little ominous. Clearly the Raad's have their own agenda at play, but what exactly is it? Hmmmmmmm...

Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it! Have a nice day!

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