A/N: I do not own Fire Emblem. Not all philosophical views expressed are ones I believe in or even agree with. Some minor game events have been changed to aid storytelling purposes, all the rest happen as described within Fire Emblem Awakening barring the consequences of the main point of difference within this fanfiction. Additionally, among other perspectives, this fic employs heavy use of gray morality from a first-person perspective. Note: this fic is rated Teen for depictions of psychological pain, physical violence, and character death. If this warning applies to you, please heed it.

-Foreward-

The animosity between Ylisse and its neighbor Plegia certainly wasn't new by any definition of the term, having been the result of a millennia spanning grudge caused by ancient dragons, though things came from a heated but uneasy truce to all-out war within the span of a single generation. Rumor came down that the cult of Grima that their messiah - the Fellblood - had been born, and the current Ylissian Exalt, a certain Asculum Lowell, declared all out war on Plegia.

Within ten years, a tenth of the population of both countries had been directly deployed to the front lines and nine out of ten people had directly contributed to the war effort in some fashion. Regna Ferox, to the north, chose to stay out of what they saw as a pointless massacre, and perhaps it would have been one had the tide not suddenly shifted in Ylisse's favor.

In the span of a few months, nearly a dozen battles all went decisive towards Ylisse and Plegia lost. Their ruling family was wiped out and a distant scion - Validar - was installed as a puppet king. Knowing he had no chance to control the country, Exalt Asculum took solace in the fact that he had killed the Fellblood and retreated back to his country, but not before leaving draconian measures in place to keep Plegia in check as well as threatening severe repercussions.

Now is a time of strife across the continent. Ylisse itself is reeling from the war and suffering from the costs that Asculum forced it to pay for its victory. Insurgents and malcontents abound in every corner, waiting for a chance to overthrow the Exalt. Every year, the very devastated Plegia makes payments to Ylisse, which serve both to prop the ailing Ylissean state and to keep Plegia from being able to rebel. The payments comes in two forms - gold and soldiers.

This would all come to an end fifteen years after the war, and to merely attribute a single factor one of these previously mentioned factors to the prime cause for what would follow would be poor scholarship at best. However, if a single factor could be said to be the cause, it would not be any of these factors in particular, but a dark horse event. In that year, part of Plegia's tribute of soldiers contained a very specific soldier, whose name is as shrouded in myth as it is history.

-excerpted from the "The Second Great Ylissean-Plegian Conflict"

-Outskirts of Ylisse-

"Sire! We're almost at Castle Ylisse."

"Oh, are we? I supposed I'll need to make myself look presentable then."

Validar, King of Plegia, turned to look out the window. He had come into the position after the death of his predecessor some fifteen years prior, and in theory was the second most important man on the continent, given that Regna Ferox had devolved back into their winner-take-all tournament again. He was also a member of the Grimleal, and a high ranking member at that, not to mention a powerful dark mage in his own right. Add in the fact that he was secretly of Grima's bloodline line and one could surmise that he was an individual to be feared.

Of course, that would have been true had he not have been a puppet to Exalt Asculum Lowell after the country's disastrous defeat fifteen years ago.

"We've arrived, sire."

"Yes, yes, I see," Validar sighed and adjusted his robes. He would be humiliated once again, as much as Asculum wanted before the accursed Ylissian Exalt took his pound of flesh from Plegia once again and he was allowed to slink back to the desert with his metaphorical tail between his legs. If he was going to go through that, Validar needed to maintain his composure. Cool, distance, and perhaps someone with a trace of a plan. He found it helped unsettle Asculum. "I am ready."

Validar stepped out of his carriage and onto the front path of the castle. Behind him, other fine carriages, in what could only be a sick joke, were dropping off the rest of delegation from Plegia. Validar kept his signature all-knowing smirk on his face. "Exalt. It's been quite a while."

"My apologies, but my father is busy. I'll be here instead."

"First Princess Emmeryn," Validar corrected himself, blinking in surprise. He hadn't expected that the heir would meet him instead. "You'll have to excuse me. I was put off by your … regal presence … and assumed I was in the company of your esteemed father."

"Exalt Asculum is temporarily unavailable. He will be ready to discuss details with you over dinner tonight, but for the time being, I will oversee the exchange."

"Is that true, though?" Validar asked. "Your father was never one to shy away from humiliating me."

"King Validar!" Emmeryn said sharply. "I'll ask you to refrain from making such accusatory statements about my father like that!"

Oh, yes, forbid that I should actually be able to speak a word of truth under these circumstances. It's not like we both don't know just what her father really is, but it seems that Emmeryn would like me to play at politics for the time being, Validar thought. She's not here because Asculum couldn't be here himself. I'll bet he's placed her here so she can continue the grand family tradition of abusing Plegia for personal gain. Corrupting impressionable children, are we, Asculum? But then again, Emmeryn isn't particularly young and Asculum has done far worse.

"A thousand apologies, Princess Emmeryn," Validar said. "I beg your forgiveness for a momentary lapse in thought. It must be my nerves."

Validar had the satisfaction of seeing one of her eyebrows twitch at being referred to as merely 'Princess Emmeryn'. There was a time when it would have been 'First Princess', but Emmeryn couldn't call him out on following strict protocol, could she?

"Let us not tarry, King Validar."

"Very well," Validar sighed and gestured behind him. "Your tribute, my lady Emmeryn. The finest soldiers from Plegia's army; both our fighters and our mages. They are now Ylisse's to command, to join the-"

"-Subjugation Force Leviathan," Emmeryn said, cutting him off so that Validar couldn't use the nickname for the company. "I know of this already. Our captains will take this over."

The grim ritual began. As was done ever since the end of the war, every year, the best of Plegia's army would be given over to Ylisse to be incorporated into what was officially called Subjugation Force Leviathan. Unofficially, it was the Plegian suicide squadron, a force used by Exalt Asculum to dispose of any malcontents and rebels at home to be wielded with extreme prejudice and suicidal tactics, killing two birds with one stone. Plegia's army would remain in shambles and Ylisse didn't have to care about Asculum's draconian policies with such an effective deterrent.

Squad by squad, Plegian groups were led off the royal ground by Ylissean companies, to be placed into barracks and sent out to fight. Resistance, of course, meant death and grim consequences so none of it was had. And, naturally, it was done on the palace ground to be as much of a spectacle as possible.

Humiliation to the point where Plegia would not dare rise again. And, even Validar, the King of Plegia and part of Grima's lineage, could only bow in subservience and quietly bide his time.

"King Validar? Who are they?" Emmeryn gestured to a group of dark mages, specifically towards a trio near the back. One was a woman with dark black hair clutching a tome to her chest. One was an alabaster-haired mage with a crow on his shoulder, eyes shut and seemingly laughing at his situation.

The last was a man with shock-white hair and a black-and-purple cloak, marking him as different from those around him. He, like all the tributes, was completely weaponless, but just looking at him gave the impression that he was trouble.

"Oh, them? Just one of the graduating classes at our mage academy. Exceptional students, but they all decided to go into combat, not research, and thus were selected to be tributes," Validar said. "The woman is Tharja, and the one with the crow is Henry."

"And the last?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself, Princess?" Validar offered, smiling.

"You there!" Emmeryn said, pointing at the man. "Come to me."

The man made no comment but broke off from his companions. He stepped in front of Emmeryn, then kneeled before her, lowering his head. "How can I serve you, First Princess Emmeryn?"

"First-? I am … no, never mind. Please, tell me your name."

"My name? Of course. My name is…"

- Robin's POV-

Princess Emmeryn of Ylisse, an accomplished scholar who has written several studies on magic, as well as being the heir to the throne. Her presence here indicates that Exalt Asculum will be taking a more active role in her development as his successor. In as much, she is the next generation of Ylisse, thus making this quite the auspicious occasion. After all, I am…

"Robin, your highness. I am Robin Wyrm," Robin said, still kneeling. "I am a Plegian dark mage, trained at the royal academy."

"Your robe is … odd. I have not seen its kind before."

"Merely a graduation gift from my father," Robin said. "I do not mean to stand out or draw attention, highness. If it offends your eyes, I can dress the same as my companions."

"No … no, that's fine. There is something odd about you, Robin." Emmeryn looked him over. "I wonder… just who exactly are you?"

"Robin is quite humble, your majesty," Validar interrupted. "He was the brightest mage of his generation and has achieved the position as a tactician at his young age. He is the leader of this group of this group of Plegian soldiers, and he will serve you well. I'm quite pleased you met him."

Of course Father is happy this meeting happened. Probably facilitated it, Robin analyzed the situation. Not that it's a bad thing of course. After all, if I'm to achieve my goal, I'll need her help. The earlier we build a relationship, the better.

"It is as my king says," Robin said. "I would love to stay, Princess, but my company is leaving…"

"Of course," Emmeryn said. "Farewell, Robin."

"Of course," Robin mimicked her. "Thank you, princess."

-Leviathan Barracks-

"Naturally, Validar decides to introduce me to Emmeryn like that," Robin paced the small room he was now shared with Henry. Six hours later, he'd been shuffled into side barracks that the suicide squadron, and now the pair of them were (presumably) settling in.

They spent the time well. Henry had hexproofed the room and made it impossible for them to be overheard, alongside a rather inspired deflection hex that cast a mild state of suggestion on anyone that would keep anyone who wasn't determined to enter from entering the room. Robin had taken that time to turn the room into his headquarters, unpacking his assorted papers and documents alongside a few of his magical relics and begun setting up a crude dark magic workshop. Highly illegal. Risky, but necessary. Also, Robin couldn't help but enjoy the irony of the situation.

"Aw, cheer up. No cawse for concern," Henry cheerily said. "The Princess probably wants to be friends with you, you know."

"… " Robin sighed and shook his head. "Henry, we don't want to be friends with the Ylisseans, remember? Besides, she's one of the worse of the lot to possibly be friends with. There's no telling how my Fellblood will react if it comes into contact with an Exalted Blood. We need to avoid her like the plague."

Henry cocked his head, confused.

"Right. Sorry, I meant take all possible steps to avoid her," Robin sighed. "You know, you aren't supposed to like plagues, Henry."

"Aw, but why not? Take a human with a well-developed case of bubonic plague to the point where their skin starts to-"

"-Okay, that's enough!" Robin said. "You're going to give me nightmares! Do you understand that? You're going to give the Fellblood nightmares. Please stop!"

They were interrupted by a faint rapping at the door. The two looked at each other and were on their feet in a moment. Henry had a powerful Ruin spell at the ready, to be fired at the door, whereas lightning crackled around Robin's left fist and three daggers were held between the fingers in his right fist.

"Enter." Robin stated flatly.

"It's me, you two," Tharja entered. "Could it be anyone else? I sensed Henry's hex."

Robin relaxed and Henry did the same. "We're just on edge, Tharja. Come to report?"

"Not much if I have. The women's barracks is basically the same as this," Tharja said, observing. "I wish Aversa could have come with us to be my roommate."

"Out of question," Robin said.

"Well, in that case, I'll have to use this room as my workshop. I know everyone here is supposed to be loyal to the Grimleal, but I'd rather not leave it to chance."

"Henry and I have already begun setting it up to that effect," Robin said. "He doesn't care about living conditions, so he'll stay here. I'll find lodging somewhere else. I'll just have to keep them from noticing. Shouldn't be too hard."

"Like you sleep anyway. How many hours of sleep a night do you even need?"

"Six. You know, like any normal person," Robin said. "Six is normal, right?"

"Yes," Henry said.

"No," Tharja scowled. "And if you're using your draconic magic? Isn't it something completely abhuman?"

"Not exactly. I can stay awake for thirty-six hours consecutively, or sixty-four hours over three days," Robin smiled ruefully. "I crash really hard after that, so let's not rely on it."

"Right. So, what's our first order of business?"

"We need to turn this room into a proper headquarters," Robin said. "I need my maps and plans, as well as a small workshop for to craft dark magic tomes or artifacts. For now, though, we need to lie low. Avoid suspicion and figure out how this city works. And… well, we need to not die."

"Easier said than done," Tharja said. "We're suicide troops. Casualty rates on the first deployment can hit up to sixty percent, even during victories. And for the first year? It's around five percent."

"In Plegia, if you can't stay alive, the desert will swallow you whole and pick your bone cleans." Robin said, raising an eyebrow. "There's no reason that shouldn't also be true here in Ylisse. In a way, I'm actually glad about this."

"Nyahahaha!" Henry cackled. "More meals for the crows!"

"Henry, please stop…" Tharja sighed. "Then do I have permission to not hold back…?"

"When we're deployed? I think we'll have to. Just leave no witnesses." Robin said. He paused and frowned, looking out the window. "Am I … seeing a commotion? The barracks we're in. I think they're quite active. But not Subjugation Force Leviathan."

"Yes, I seem to pass some soldiers mobilizing earlier. They were … heading to the palace, maybe?" Tharja said. "I overheard a few of them as I was on my way here."

"I see…" Robin said, gears turning in his head.

"Heh heh heh," Henry chuckled. "Someone has an idea."

"Robin, you aren't seriously thinking of-"

Robin shed his tactician's cloak revealing a black uniform beneath designed to blend in with the night. A tome covered with black leather was holstered into his side, and a brace of throwing daggers was strapped across his chest. He reached back and tossed a hood over his head.

"It's the first night!" Tharja protested in vain.

"Opportunity knocks, and the victorious will answer it," Robin replied. He opened the window to the room and looked out, taking note of a patrol of guards. "Besides, they'll never expect it on the first night."

"Robin…"

"Lost cawse, Tharja," Henry laughed. "You know what he's like."

"Ugh. You were planning this all along, weren't you?" Tharja sighed.

"Like I said, they'll never expect anything the first night. I was just going to scout out but this seems like a better idea," Robin turned back. "I'll be back by sunrise. If I'm not… well, I'll be back by sunrise."

-Castle Ylisse, Outer Walls-

Like a shadow, Robin tailed the group of guards, scurrying across the city. He'd been trained as a dark mage, true, but once his father had realized that Robin was a savant, capable of mastering dozens of skills, Robin had been trained thoroughly. Espionage and sabotage was well within his wheelhouse.

I don't think this is related to me. It may just be a coincidence, Robin trailed the group of guards to a sewer drain that was close by to the castle. No doubt that drain connected to Castle Ylisse's sewer system. And if they were looking for someone, that meant they were in the sewers. An intruder? A thief? An assassin? Well… regardless of the specifics, I might just lend a hand then.

Robin, lying on a rooftop's edge, looked as the group met with a stern-looking knight in blue armor. Robin had never seen the brown-haired knight before but recognized him instantly from the man's profile.

"Listen, soldiers!" Frederick the Wary, personal knight to Exalt Asculum, said to the men. "We've tracked her to these sewers, and we'll have her before sunrise. I want as many men as we can muster down there to flush her out."

What a day. I arrive at Ylissitol, and I already have a potential ally, assuming I can find whoever they're talking about. And, maybe… Unbidden, Robin's fingers itched towards one of his dagger and a vial of poison. No. Killing Frederick now would merely be satisfying, assuming I could even do it. There will be time to make Ylisse pay for their crimes against my motherland, but that isn't now. But I will help whoever they're chasing.

Robin picked up a loose piece of rubble from the roof and chucked it into a nearby alleyway. Luckily, the sound echoed loudly enough and the Ylissians turned to head towards it. Robin took the opportunity to drop down. There was a soldier left on post there by the entrance of the sewers.

So they aren't complete fools. No matter.

Robin rushed the man, who started at seeing a black-clad hooded figure rush him. The soldier swung his sword but was too late. Robin got inside his guard and caught the arm before the swing could be completed, then broke it at the elbow. Robin spun and snapped his own elbow up, catching the man under the chin, dropping him like a stone. No need to kill anyone just yet.

The soldier dropped, his metal armor clanging against the cobblestones. Robin cursed and turned to the alleyway, seeing Frederick and other soldiers coming out of it. They saw him and realized they'd been tricked.

"Blackguard! Who are you and what do you want?" Frederick said.

"Questions that will have to wait for another day, Frederick the Wary," Robin chuckled darkly. "But we'll meet again." Robin dropped into the sewers and dashed off into the darkness. His cloak would protect him from sight, leaving him unable to be followed.

Who are the Ylisseans chasing, I wonder? Robin was unfamiliar with the sewer system, so he risked summoning a small pocket of light to help him see once he got far enough away his entry point. Navigating by sound would be an exercise in futility.

He wandered throughout the halls. Sounds echoed around him, and Robin tried to move away from them whenever he could, rationalizing that they person who was running would be doing the same thing.

Then he caught a flash of light up ahead. Robin extinguished his flame and decided that if it worked for him once, it would work for him again. He started stealthily following them. He caught snatched of conversations as he did so.

"She's running back to forest again!"

"I heard she's wounded!"

"We'll get that freak for sure this time!"

Freak? Now that sounds a little offensive. Unless it isn't. But Ylissean have this tendency to demonize anything which doesn't serve their precious Naga. It's not sounding like an assassin, but still. I went out of my way. Might as well finish this up.

Robin followed them until they reached a large reservoir of some kind, sending the sludge that was the sewage out of the city and into an out-flowing river. The full moon illuminated the reservoir, which was actually a large cavern that had been converted to serve as such.

"I see her!" One of the soldiers raised his torch, illuminating a hunched-over figure by the far side of the cavern, a trail of blood behind her. The figure tried to head out towards the exit, but couldn't seem to move very well. "We've caught the rabbit this time!"

Robin detached himself and started walking behind the group of three soldiers, taking stock of the devices they wore. Like most armies, the Ylissean army had various divisions and companies, each with their own symbols and devices. Robin's group was that of a great serpent eating its own tail. Because symbolism. These soldiers had golden armbands with the silver symbol Brand of the Exalt.

The Brand of the Exalt was reserved for companies that directly served nobility. Chrom's company, called the Shepherds, had the symbol on a blue patch on their right shoulder. Emmeryn's guard had yellow headbands with the symbol on them. But gold and silver was reserved for the Exalt.

That meant these soldiers served Exalt Asculum Lowell directly. And that meant that Robin hated them. They weren't veterans, that much was obvious. For all he knew, they'd never even left the capitol. But he didn't care. No one got drafted into Asculum's honor guard.

They made their choice, Robin thought. Wear the emblem of a man who attempted genocide, and there are consequences.

"Stay away from me, man-spawn!" the woman they were hunting snarled. Robin stifled a gasp as he caught a look at her face. The woman was wearing tattered leather armor barely held together, but that wasn't what shocked. Her face was shaped oddly, clearly not human, and she had rabbit ears.

A beastman? I thought they were just legends. Of course, Ylisseans are hunting something they don't understand. Pull the other one. Robin raised his right hand and slowly removed the gauntlet on it, slowly undoing the multiple straps that kept it in place. He took it off to reveal a black bandaged hand. They'll pay for this.

"Time to die, coney!"

"I don't think so."

There was a resounding clash as the soldier's spear was deflected by Robin as he showed up in front of them, wielding a sword made of bone, held in a defensive position. The Ylisseans dropped back and slowly surrounded him. Robin reached into the pouch on his belt and dropped a bottle by the woman.

"Drink this, and rest," Robin said, not turning his attention away from the three soldiers. "I'll handle these brutish thugs and then we'll have a conversation."

"Who are you, man-spawn?" the woman turned to look at him.

"Little ol' me?" Robin turned to her and winked, dropping his hood so she could see it. "I'm a little like you, I think. You see, I'm not quite human either. Drink. Rest. We'll talk later."

"I recognize you," the lead Ylissean soldier pointed his spear at Robin. "You're one of the Plegian tributes."

"Huh. So you were one of the captains there today," Robin said, shrugging. "Can't say I recognized you. But then, I wasn't paying much attention."

"What are you doing here? So eager to die? Couldn't wait to be shipped out and die like the rest of your brethren?"

"You know, it wasn't like I was planning to let you live either," Robin said frostily. The temperature in the room dropped and his right eye dropped into shadow. He grabbed the black bandage on his right hand. "But, wow, you really have a death wish. Well, let me oblige you and introduce myself."

Robin yanked the bandage off to reveal the Six Eyes of Grima on his right hand. Two of the eyes lit up as he did so. His right arm flashed and shifted to draconic, now with claws and scaled up all beneath his sleeve all the way to his shoulder. His right eye shifted, turning into a reptilian slit, giving him draconic sight in that eye. Two black wings appeared, a thin one above his right shoulder and one along his side, shadows wings of no real substance, but just served to mark a measure of his power.

"I am Robin Fellblood, true inheritor to the power of Grima, and the Hierophant of the Grimleal. I am he who your precious Exalt waged a genocidal war to kill and I am very much back with a vengeance," Robin said, purple fire lighting up in his draconic right eye. "You lucky three will be the first to fight me manifested as my true self. I apologize, as you noble Ylisseans no doubt would have wanted a true dragon to fight, but I can only manage two of the six eyes. Care to dance?"

-Woods outside Ylissotol-

"Are you alright?" Robin asked.

The woman woke up with a start. They were out all the way in the woods, and most of her wounds had been healed. Robin had dispatched the Ylissean with relative ease using his draconic form, though his suspicions that they were fresh recruits had been confirmed. He'd then picked the woman up, as she'd gone unconscious. Luckily that was after she managed to drink the bottle he'd given her. He then carried her to a safe spot.

"I am fine, thank you."

"My name's Robin." Robin introduced himself. "You… might have heard me already."

"I am Panne."

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you? I know you in legends as a beastman, but I can't imagine that's what you call yourself."

"A taguel," Panne said. "The last of my kind. What are you, if not human?"

"Part dragon," Robin answered matter-of-factly. "Part dark dragon as it happens. I possess the very foul blood of Grima running through my veins. Like you, I'm hunted for the fact that I'm not quite human. The only difference is that I can hide it."

"I see. You helped me because of that," Panne said. "You are … interesting. I owe you a debt now, for saving my life. Such is the way of the taguel."

"That's true for us humans as well," Robin said. "But I didn't just help you because of that. I also helped you because I seek to thwart Ylisse at whatever they attempt. I'm sure you don't have a high opinion of them either, Panne."

"No. I do not."

"Good. Because I'm looking for powerful allies who won't run in terror upon hearing that I'm the Fellblood. You qualify," Robin looked the woman over. "I wouldn't mind having a shapeshifter on my team. Although we'll probably need you to blend in. Can you fight with weapons that humans use?"

"I can … manage with blade and bow. But I'm not good with either."

"Hmm. We'll have to work on that. Focus on archery for the time being. I do know a swordsmaster, but she's in a different country right now. But you are interested in joining me?"

"What exactly are you planning?"

"I've only known you for a few minutes, but I get the impression that you're not quite involved in human politics, so not everything I'll say to you will make sense right now," Robin said. "I presume that you have some reason for being in the Ylissean sewers?"

"I've … hidden a few things there that I need. It's a maze that I can usually navigate better than the Ylisseans. They got lucky tonight."

"Would you be able to find me if I went down there?"

"If you give me something with your scent on it." Panne replied. Robin reached inside his tunic and pulled out of his concealed knives. Panne accepted it and smelled it, nodding. "This will work."

"I'll need to find my way back now."

"Wait!" Panne called after him. "You haven't told what you're planning!"

"What I'm planning… well, that's not something as simple that can be condensed into a single sentence, but if I had to, it's going to be this. I'm going to steal the Fire Emblem." Robin looked back at her and grinned. "You see, supposedly it has the power to grant wishes. And I have quite a few that I'm looking forward to being granted."

A/N: Because I really like the fanfic idea of 'What if Robin started off somewhere else?' I very much like the concept of Robin as a character and I feel that FE:A, while a very good story, underutilized him in certain respects, and I like the idea of a very morally gray character, and here we have one. (On a side note, I'm currently looking for beta readers and if you want to write a similar fic to this one, I'd be happy to help you world-build, just send me a message.)

This is not the Crimson Tactician of Valm, this is the Hierophant of Plegia, trained from birth to serve and raised to hate Ylisse for its crimes against Plegia. This is a world where Chrom's father won his war, and the end result of it ends up manifesting. This Robin is also stronger than vanilla Robin is because he spent his childhood training and he hasn't recently suffered from amnesia.