Please assume any changes from the actual in-game fight are part of some high-minded *artistic intent* and not because I last played that fight years ago and don't want to bother rewatching a replay.
Also the whole story comes with the following content warnings, so please keep them in mind:
Minor Character Death
Canonical Character Death
Body Horror/Monster Transformation
Gore/Eye Trauma
Torture/The Rack
Cannibalism
Dissociation
Suicidal Thoughts
\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/
"Your squirming is useless, but charming," the Hierophant says in Robin's own voice, twisted into a low hiss.
With a flick of his fingers a mass of spikes rise to where Robin stands. One runs through Robin's calf and he falls to one knee with a cry.
He is stuck with a single Bongalone and a back-up Elwind. His silver sword, now chipped, lays several feet away, dropped after another one of the Hierophant's attacks. Chrom is too far away and locked in battle with Validar to help, and the rest of their group are trapped outside the room, heavy iron doors blocking their passage.
Robin has turned the tides in battle many times, but he does not see a way out of this. The Hierophant has every advantage over him and the only reason Robin isn't a charred corpse is because they need him alive for Grima's revival.
The Hierophant scoffs at the kneeling Robin as he raises his free hand while taking out a Thoron tome. A ball of electricity sparks between the fingers, but he does not take aim at Robin, instead forcing the tactician to relive his nightmare from a spectator's perspective as the lance of electricity is aimed at Chrom.
Robin raises his hand in tandem and cries out his last spell besides the Bongalone, a measly Elwind, and prays Chrom is in a good enough state that this won't fell him.
Elwind is quicker to cast than Thoron, and it hits Chrom's back, sending him a few steps forward from the shock and denting his armour, just as the Hierophant's Thoron grazes his ribs, leaving behind a nasty but non-lethal cut. Chrom gasps from the injury and shock of being hit with two consecutive spells, but stays upright and dodges a dark blast from a possessed Validar.
The Hierophant curses as he prepares another spell, and Robin had never held such hatred for a person. He drops his exhausted tome and tackles the Hierophant, throwing them both to the vast mosaic of the Dragon's Table.
The Hierophant lets out an annoyed cry that is cut short when Robin wraps his hands around his doppelganger's neck. He has no weapons left besides his own two hands and if all he can do is strangle him, then he will gladly rip that monster's throat out.
The Hierophant lets out a choked laugh as Robin's nails barely pierce his skin, and his anger reaches new heights, both at the monster beneath him and at his own inadequate amnesiac body.
"Useless!" With a shove, the Hierophant pushes him aside like a fly, and takes the time to dust off his robes and pick up his Thoron. Chrom is too busy fighting Validar, so he doesn't notice the Hierophant taking aim at him, but Robin does, and he is sick and tired and the angriest he's ever been.
He lunges at the Hierophant again, who looks back at him with a smug smirk. He pauses the Thoron spell to take aim at Robin, and though any sane man would veer to the side and take cover, he's too angry to think straight.
The Hierophant's Thoron hits him right on the shoulder, but the injury is not lethal and that's exactly what Robin is betting on. For all their talk, he and Validar don't want him dead, not when he's supposed to be Grima's damned vessel.
The injury burns as if he's been hit with Elfire as Robin's whole body seizes up, but inertia propels him far enough to collide with the Hierophant again. The Dragon's Table lets out a pulse of light from where they fall, and the Hierophant is momentarily surprised, letting Robin wrestle the Thoron tome out of his grip. Before the Hierophant realises, Robin channels his magic through the tome, then at his free hand, and plunges it right at his doppelganger's heart.
He doesn't miss.
Robin can barely breathe, his whole body trembling from the shock of being hit with Thoron, then shortly releasing another one at a tackled opponent. Some of the spell's aftershocks reach him because of his direct contact with its target, but at least the monster below him is in a much worse shape.
The Hierophant laughs again, blood bubbling at his mouth. Robin prepares another Thoron, this one aimed at his head, but the Hierophant catches his hand, his clawed grip digging into his skin.
"You'll still lose them," he chokes out before his grins, his mouth and teeth coated with blood. It drips down his cheek and joins the bigger pool of blood flowing out from under them, flowing between the cracks of the mosaic in tiny rivulets. "But at least, this is a fitting end…"
"Good riddance."
The Hierophant's trembling death throes resemble held-back laughter, but eventually he goes still even as more blood flows out from his body.
"Lord Grima!" Validar yells, his voice cracking at the sight of his master's corpse. His spell falters and Chrom takes advantage of the opening, catching him in the shoulder with the Falchion, before withdrawing the blade and shoving right through his heart.
Robin's supposed father dies with a heartbroken expression and even now Robin can't muster even the pretence of affection for the man, only disgust.
"Robin, are you—?!" Chrom catches himself off as he sees Robin kneeling over the Hierophant's corpse.
His eyes widen from shock then confusion, a reasonable response since Robin and the Hierophant look exactly alike, and he knows how the heat of battle slows one's analytical mind. Robin mustn't look like his usual self, covered in blood and with one hand drenched in viscera after running it through a man's chest, yet it only takes Chrom a moment to realise it's him and slacken his grip.
"We did it!" Chrom's face breaks into a smile as he lowers his hand and sways in place. He's injured, but Robin finds his grin as blinding as the sun. "We did it, Robin, it's over—"
A dark mist leaves Validar's body, coalescing above him into a thick black cloud before shooting at the centre of the Dragon's Table, above Robin and the Hierophant's corpse. It fashions itself in a familiar visage, first as the six-eyed patterned like Robin's brand, then stretches into the actual form of the Fell Dragon; six red orb-like eyes, a mouth full of teeth, strange bumps on its forehead that resembles a human face with its eyes closed and a long serpentine body lines with three pairs of feathery wings.
Chrom pales at the visage, but Robin notices the glazed over look at the dragon's eyes, a muzzle pockmarked with teeth that don't fit in its mouth and an awkward hunched posture.
This is Grima, but in his death throes.
What a pathetic sight.
"Grima!" Chrom yells after he gathers his wits. "I've come to end you!"
"… ARROGANT MORTAL… I AM THE END!" Grima's immaterial form yells and though Robin has never heard his voice before, he can tell it's strained.
The Fell Dragon's phantom towers over Robin like a black cloud. "… RETURN TO ME… COME… WE ARE ONE… AND THE SAME…!"
Chrom readies the Falchion, and though this is the plan they agreed to, that Chrom made Robin swear they would follow, the Hierophant's words echo in his mind. Though with one foot in the grave Grima's power still drenches the air with dark magic, and Chrom is injured, too injured…
So Robin unclasps his Bongalone and hopes Chrom will eventually forgive him. He doesn't look back at Chrom so he won't stop, he ignores a cry of 'Robin no!' and aims his spell at Grima's false-face.
Unlike his rage at the Hierophant and his disgust at Validar, he feels nothing when the surrounding air ignites. There's no anger, no fear, no happiness at finally killing the Fell Dragon, just a spreading numbness like he's stuck with some mindless chore.
A fully fledged Bongalone requires its caster to keep a safe distance from its target, but Robin doesn't have such a luxury. So, as Grima is engulfed in flames, so is Robin, the air surrounding them igniting as if it's made of oil. The fire is scorching hot and Robin should be dying, but the Dragon's Table is growing red again and his skin grows back just as fast as it's consumed by the flames.
The inferno stops as suddenly as it started. Grima's shadowy visage is gone, the Hierophant's corpse has been reduced to charcoal, but the Dragon's Table still glows red even if Robin is the only one alive on it.
The air cools, and room temperature is now chilling to Robin, who clutches his robe around him and trembles like a newborn lamb. He coughs out ash but immediately regrets it as he doubles over from a head-splitting migraine.
This doesn't make sense. Why is he still conscious? Even if he survived the Bongalone, Grima's death should have sealed his fate anyway.
"Robin? Robin!"
Though he can feel Chrom's grip, he can't see him. Instead, Robin's vision splits in three but none of what he sees can be true, for one is an abandoned alchemical laboratory with layers of dust over smeared bloodstains, the other a nameless battlefield littered with magic craters and half-eaten bodies and the third is him kneeling over the Dragon's Table from Grima's perspective.
"Chrom," is all Robin can mutter, "Chrom, don't leave, I can't, Chrom, Chrom," he bubbles in blind panic, his speech degenerating to the point where all he can do is utter Chrom's name. He doesn't know what's happening to him, what he is, only that he can't lose them, lose him, that he won't be betrayed, not again—
\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/
New chapters will be posted every week on Saturday. The story has been written in its entirety, and a complete version can be found on AO3.
Reviews are appreciated. As always, you can find me SleepDeprivedFemale on tumblr and Sleepy#3903 on discord ✌