Theme 19: Tears
The Feroxi winter was a cold, dark time. The tall, warped and grey trees bore no fruit or leaves, no birds decorated the skies in bursts of color. Even the sun hid for most of the day. Spirits weren't high in the Shepherd's camp, and the first snowfall of the season didn't help at all.
A large fire roared in the center of camp (gladly started by Frederick), providing much needed light and warmth to the dreary, pitch black Feroxi night. Clad in as many layers as possible, all members of the Shepherds gathered, sharing stories and alcohol to warm themselves.
Lissa, sitting on a large log and sandwiched between Maribelle and Olivia, was content with listening closely to the tale being told by Gregor. A light hearted piece about his travels to Plegia a decade or so in the past, when he and his group of mercenaries battled a group of bandits in the barren desert. Lissa and the group of girls she sat near had been turned off at the mention of the gruesome description of Gregor, "slicing through the bad guys like cheese! Smelled like it, too!"
As she glanced around the camp, she didn't seem to find the familiar face of the tactician. She could spot everyone else, even Kellam. But Robin was nowhere to be found.
Without a word she stood from her spot on the log, clutching her many coats and blankets tight to her body, and tiptoed through camp. Lissa had made the trek to his tent many times before, but this time she was oddly nervous. Robin usually enjoyed spending time with the rest of the Shepherds.
Winding through the maze of tents, Lissa stopped outside of Robin's. Warm candlelight spilled from the seams of his tent, indicating some life inside. She breathed a small sigh of relief she hadn't realized she was holding. Pushing aside the tent flap and ducking her head, she stepped inside Robin's tent.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was left in silence as she saw Robin, back turned towards her, hunched over his desk. He held his forehead in his left hand, shoulders erratically rising and falling as if he was trying to refrain from sobbing. His coat, the familiar black and purple tactician's cloak that Lissa had never seen separated from him, was tossed lazily in a pile on his cot.
The princess stepped carefully stepped forward, trying her hardest not to make a sound. She could see over his shoulder now. A single dark blot marred the wood finish of his desk. It looked to be the remnants of a teardrop. His right arm was outstretched on the desk, the six dark purple eyes of his mark staring a hole through the princess. It seemed as if they blinked. Lissa hoped it was her imagination.
"Robin?" Lissa whispered softly, her gaze settling back on the tactician. It didn't seem to stir him. She approached the desk, still clutching the layers of blankets tight to her small frame.
Laying a hand gently on his shoulder, she could finally see his face. His eyes were closed tight, nose scrunched and mouth drawn into a tight line. Like he was in pain. Lissa could see the streak down his cheek, a reminder of the tear that had fallen on the desk. She was slightly taken aback. She had never seen the man cry before.
"Robin… Are you alright?" She asked again, softly shaking his shoulder in another attempt to get his attention.
He blinked open his eyes in a flash, taking in a breath as he returned to consciousness. He shot up in his chair, instinctively drawing back his hand, covering the mark with his left. Lissa stepped backwards in surprise, letting out a soft yelp.
"Lissa!" Robin's startled voice rang through the small tent. The two locked eyes, both with uneasy expressions on their faces. "What are you doing here?"
Gripping the blankets in her hands, Lissa took a step forward. "I saw you weren't outside with the rest of us… I wanted to check on you, make sure you weren't working o- or something…" She trailed off, breaking her gaze and staring at her feet, suddenly embarrassed. "You were crying. A- are you alright?" Her tone, caring and understanding, calmed the tactician. He had assumed the worst, another frog dumped down his shirt collar.
Robin's hand touched his cheek, brushing at the damp trail left behind by the lone tear. "I… I was." He glared at his wet fingertip, struggling to remember what had happened.
"I had a dream. More like a nightmare." He pushed his chair out from the desk and stood, rubbing his temples. "I've the same one every night this week."
Watching as he milled about the room, Lissa sat on his cot, next to his discarded coat. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Robin nodded. "I've had visions of the mark on my hand." His voice came in a quiet, troubled whisper. "I can tell something is going to happen. Something bad." He faltered, biting the knuckle of his forefinger. Successive breaths became ragged. "I'm not certain that I can control it anymore. This damned mark on my hand... This curse. I can see it in my dreams. I can't get away..." A new tear streamed down his face. He didn't bother to wipe it away.
Hearing the pained tone of his voice, Lissa sprang back up from the cot, unwrapping a few warm blankets from around herself. Tiptoeing back up to Robin's back, she tossed the bundle of wool blankets around Robin's shoulders, the cloth already warm from the time spent around Lissa. The princess, feeling a bit cold from the lack of layers (and shocked from Robin's ability to only wear his undershirt in the coldest of Feroxi winters), embraced the tactician from behind, her thin arms pulling Robin into one of her famous bear-hugs.
"Listen to me, and listen good. You're not gonna mope around any longer now that I'm here." She smirked, standing on her toes, trying to talk into his ear. She secretly wished she was a few inches taller.
"Remember what you told me about fate? You said that we have the power to change it, based on the bonds we hold and the relationships we build. If you ask me, I think you've built some pretty nice relationships with the Shepherds. We're going to get through this together. We're not 'pawns of some scripted fate', or whatever boring gibberish you say. That dumb mark on your hand means nothing compared to the bonds you have with us. Got it, mister?"
Robin's saddened expression quickly gave way to a cheeky, lopsided grin. Lissa always knew how to cheer him up. Her goofy antics was the perfect pair to his personality.
She let her grip around Robin's waist loosen enough for Robin to turn around. Looking down at the sprightly girl, Robin couldn't help but beam from ear to ear, his face radiating happiness. The light of the girl in front of him completely erased the darkness that plagued his mind.
"Thank you Lissa. You don't know how much you mean to me." He returned her hug tenfold, almost crushing the small girl's body with a hug so tight it knocked the air out of her.
"You she-devil. Using my own words against me." He muttered as they pulled away. "You use dirty tactics."
Lissa just shrugged, the small smirk returning to her lips. "What can I say. I do what I must to get the job done." Grabbing his hand, she tugged him towards the flap of his tent, urging him to join the rest of the Shepherds outside. "Now c'mon! I'm getting cold without those blankets around your neck! Let's go back to the fire!"
Robin simply let the princess take him by the hand to the center of camp. The fire would feel nice, but he didn't need it. His heart had already warm enough that night.