Fire Emblem Awakening: Lights Within Darkness

by Van24

Semi-AU: Robin woke with nothing but his name and the coat on his back, unaware of the destiny that awaited him. Two mysterious warriors crossed the bounds of time, fighting to avert a dark future even as they struggled to fight against their nightmares turned reality. Now, with the world edging ever closer to the brink of calamity, can they save not just the world, but each other?

9. Chapter Seven - The Exalt and the King

Author's Note: Not much to say about why I can't seem to write any faster, but I suppose you guys are all tired hearing about my excuses. That said, my health is picking up now, which is a good thing.

Thank you ever so much to all who've stuck with me and supported this story up till now, and I hope you all will continue to do so as we keep moving forward and getting deeper into this story setting.

As usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback (anything beyond two words like "Nice chapter" or "Awesome work" will be most appreciated), and questions can be sent through reviews. I do take time to read each one, and for those of you who have done so you know I DO reply when capable.

Also, if anyone notices the shout-outs in this chapter to previous Fire Emblem games' dialogues, do feel free to let me know. I'll be looking forward to seeing who gets it. Naga be with you all.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.

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Chapter Seven – The Exalt and the King

Location: Western Ylisse

Robin frowned as he examined another one of the spells contained within his tome, making notes in another piece of parchment as he tried to use what parts of his fragmented memories and knowledge he could access to decipher the ancient text and symbols that filled the page and figure out what the spell was.

Judging by the general emptiness of the parchment he was writing on, he wasn't having too much success right now besides figuring out the name of the spell – Thoron – and the fact that it was an advanced lightning spell under the school of anima magic.

'Maybe I should pull myself back a little bit… this seems a bit too advanced for the time being…' he thought to himself as he looked around the almost-empty mess tent. Aside from a few stragglers – mostly scouts and patrols who were taking their meals late, although Robin noted the presence of a small squad of Phila's pegasus knights who were at dinner earlier yet chose to remain here for whatever reason – the tent was virtually empty.

They were still about a day and a half away from Themis – their slower pace due to the fact that the Exalt, her honor guard, a full company of troops, and a supply convoy traveled with them – and Robin could say that the first day of marching had been more than a little… well, he didn't want to use the word, but lonely was really the only description he could come up with. Chrom and Lissa spent most of their time with Emmeryn, both when marching and when camp was being made, and the only other person he really felt somewhat close to was Sumia, who more often than not served as Robin's eyes in the sky even as Phila kept her own rotation of knights on scouting duty.

It wasn't that he doubted the capability of Phila's knights, far from it. He just preferred having one of his own up there to keep him updated of any developments.

Regardless, the general lack of company meant that Robin kept to himself for much of the journey, his nose more often than not buried in his spell tome as he tried to find out more about his previous life through the pages he could open and read. However, he refused to even entertain the thought of trying to study the sealed portion that had weeks before shown him a disturbing vision of death and destruction. As strong as the temptation to open it up once more was, his senses screamed at him to stay away from something that reeked of such a malevolent aura.

'Still… I can't help but wonder what's in those pages. What in Naga's name is in there that someone decided it was better off sealed away…?'

"Sir Robin."

Said named tactician jolted as the voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up from his tome, finding Frederick standing over him with his hands clasped at the small of his back. As usual, the man's armor was pristine, and his posture was perfect – ever the model knight.

"Sir Frederick, good evening," he replied courteously. "Sorry, I was a little distracted. How may I assist you?"

The great knight almost smiled. "On the contrary, it is I who will be assisting you," he replied. At Robin's confused look, the knight allowed himself a grin. "Milord made a passing mention to me last night that you showed some interest in the schools of swordplay and might have need of a little guidance; needless to say, I understood his meaning quite quickly and that is why I am here now."

'Ah, right. I almost forgot about that.'

"Yes, that's right," Robin admitted. "It's sudden, I know, but don't think it's a spur-of-the-moment thing. While I was observing Chrom and Marth fighting at Arena Ferox, I felt this vague sense of… familiarity. Like I was experiencing some sort of…"

"Déjà vu?" the knight supplied.

Robin chuckled. "Yes, déjà vu would be quite apt. Granted, I don't have my memories, but maybe I instinctively recognized something in their movements and actions as something I might have come across before. I brought it up with Chrom, and he figured I might have seen some element or other from a school of swordplay."

Frederick nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, Milord mentioned as much to me when he spoke about your interest in the sword arts. It would explain why your current style seems to be a general amalgamation of moves that are more freestyle than anything else…"

The tactician gave the knight a resolute look. "It's a long shot, but maybe learning about swordplay might trigger a memory or something and help me remember a bit more. It's happened before with other topics, after all, so maybe it might work here, too."

"The thought behind it makes sense," Frederick commented. "Even if your memories are sealed away – if they truly are, that is, although I am starting to believe yours is not a baseless claim – the body would still remember or recognize something it has experienced or done in the past…"

Frederick gave Robin an appraising look. "If I may be so bold as to voice my own opinion, however, I do believe that this exercise will be worth the effort regardless of whether it actually helps you remember something or not."

Robin couldn't help but chuckle. "Because a tactician who knows how to defend himself is a tactician who doesn't need a guard, right?"

The knight nodded. "Quite right. Such flexibility on your part would no doubt improve our unit as a whole," he remarked. "However, before I can begin to instruct you on the more practical applications – that is, forms and movements and the like that a student of the sword might practice – I must first ensure that you have a foundation which we can build upon."

Robin paled. "If it's extra sessions of your Fanatical Fitness Hour, I think we can stop right here, because there's no way I can survive any more than what you already put me through."

He'd only experienced it a few times, but by the goddess did Frederick's strict training regimen – and strict was the only polite adjective Robin could really use to describe it – do a number on him. Never in his admittedly short memory did the tactician remember ever feeling so close to death's door as he did in the aftermath of the sheer brutality that was the Fanatical Fitness Hour spearheaded by the Shepherds' stern second-in-command. Its name was very much deserved given it was more akin to some brutal selection process than it was an actual training regimen.

The knight grinned. "No, nothing of the sort, although I will keep that in mind for future reference, Sir Robin," he replied oh-so-innocently, making Robin blanch in reply. "This is something that you'll enjoy much more given your predilection for studying – an admirable trait, I must say, given your position as our tactician."

Frederick's hands came out from behind his back, revealing a fairly thick manual in his grasp.

"First, we shall learn about the schools of swordplay from a more… theoretical point of view," he said. "I believe that this is the perfect learning approach for one such as you, Sir Robin."

He placed the book on the table before Robin with a non-too-gentle thud and slid into the chair across from the tactician.

"Now, let us begin our lessons with the first school of swordplay…" the knight said in a faux cheerful tone as he opened the manual and began flipping through pages.

Robin couldn't help but gulp inaudibly as Frederick dove right into the role of instructor. Regardless of the outcome, he was undoubtedly in for one hell of an education in the art of the sword.

'Damn you, Chrom…'

---

Location: Themis

"Oh gods…" Robin whispered as he looked around him at the city of Themis. He'd already guessed that things were bad judging by the marred and damaged gates and outer walls of the city, but this…

Everywhere the tactician looked there were signs of the wanton destruction that he was sure Chrom would say was the handiwork of Plegian troops and marauders. Just from where he stood atop a pile of rubble in the city's main square he could easily spot several buildings sporting black streaks that were no doubt caused by fire, and he was sure there were many more just like them spread all throughout the rest of the city. A smaller number of buildings had actually been completely burned out, leaving nothing more than hollowed out, charred husks that had begun to collapse in on themselves. Upturned merchant stalls, damaged carts, and scattered crates and barrels lay where they had fallen, their contents having spilled out across the cobblestone pathways and left there to rot from days of exposure to the elements.

If he were perfectly honest, it was actually a miracle the city hadn't suffered more damage than it actually did. Some of the other villages that had suffered from Plegian attack weren't even in half as good a shape as the regional capital of Western Ylisse.

He didn't say any of this out loud, though. There were far more important things to be doing than giving voice to inconsequential and easily misinterpreted opinions that would distract the Shepherds and the Ylissean soldiers rushing around him from doing their jobs.

That… and he just couldn't do it even if he wanted to, not when there were so many dead bodies littering the city square and the various pathways that they'd passed through upon their arrival. Many of the dead had been the white and blue-clad Ylissean soldiers stationed in Themis, but the tactician had also spotted at least equal numbers of marauders among the bodies. Clad in varied combinations of black, purple, and rust, he instinctively knew even without any crests on their armor or clothing to aid him that Chrom was at least right on this account – they were Plegian soldiers, through an through.

Robin grimaced as he thought of what he'd seen, trying to fight the bile that had risen earlier and threatened to rise once again. This hadn't been so much a battle as it was an absolute bloodbath. The bodies of the Ylissean soldiers had been in especially bad shape, many of them terribly mangled and maimed to the point that they were almost unrecognizable.

The dark sense of familiarity that the tactician had felt at the sight of the carnage had unsettled him, very nearly pushing him over the edge had he not allowed a moment for himself to gather his composure and take a deep breath and an equally deep swig from his waterskin. It had taken everything Robin had to keep his stomach from rebelling against himself, especially when he made the mistake of closing his eyes and allowing the images of that dark place from his visions to overlap in his mind's eye with the scenes he was seeing before him now.

Noticing Chrom and Frederick heading in his direction, the tactician hopped off the rubble he'd been standing on with more calm composure than he actually felt, bending his knees as he landed to absorb the impact before walking over to meet the prince and knight halfway.

"This is a right mess…" Robin heard Chrom murmur as they met, the other man's cobalt blue eyes staring distantly at the wreckage.

The tactician simply nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak lest he say something he might regret at a time when tensions were already running quite high.

"Damn the Plegians… damn them all to hell!" the prince spat hatefully, his words for some reason tugging at Robin's heart painfully for a reason he couldn't quite place.

"Chrom…" Robin said lowly. "You should calm down…"

The prince suddenly turned and glared at his friend and tactician. "Calm down? Calm down?!" he asked heatedly before pointing at something over Robin's shoulder.

"Look… Look at what they've done and tell me how in Naga's name I can be calm!"

Robin narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to turn to know that Chrom was pointing at the dead Ylisseans that were now being lined up for identification and subsequent burial rites. He didn't need to turn to know that Chrom was pointing particularly at the minority of the dead that were innocent Ylissean civilians who were simply trying to lead normal, peaceful lives.

He didn't need to turn to know any of that, because to him it didn't matter who died. He knew just from how he was feeling that somehow he'd already seen something similar in his previous life, whatever he might have been at the time, and he knew that it wasn't something he could ever condone.

"How can I remain calm, Robin?! Tell me!" the prince continued. "Plegia is all but invading my country! My people are suffering and dying!"

Before Robin could reply, another voice – this one much gentler than either of theirs – cut into the conversation.

"It is precisely because Plegia is invading that Robin counsels you to be calm, Brother."

Chrom whipped about, surprise evident on his features. "E-Emm! What are you doing here?" he asked as his elder sister took calm, measured steps in his direction, Phila following along in her wake. The mass of soldiers opened a clear path before the Exalt and the Pegasus Knight Wing Commander and allowing them to approach unimpeded.

Secretly, Robin felt a small sense of relief course through his veins. He had no doubt that had he replied he would have simply escalated the tension and maybe prompted the prince's temper to flare even further.

Emmeryn sighed and looked out sadly over the wanton destruction. "I needed to see everything with my own two eyes…" she said softly. "What sort of ruler would I be, Chrom, if I did not come and understand for myself what my people are going through?"

"It's dangerous here, though," Chrom replied, moving in closer. "We're not sure if the city's even secure; for all we know, Plegia might still have soldiers and assassins lurking!"

Emmeryn shook her head softly. "Then I shall simply have to be at risk like the rest of you," she stated simply.

Robin frowned as he watched the confrontation between the two siblings play out. While Emmeryn's voice was gentle as it always was, it also carried a steely undertone of authority that made him – and Chrom, more importantly – realize that the person before them was not holding herself as their friend and sister, but as the Exalt of Ylisse.

'… As a grieving ruler who can only weep for the suffering of her people…'

However, the tactician recognized that even that realization wouldn't deter Chrom from simply allowing his older sister to traipse right into the middle of what could become a battlefield at any moment.

"Sister, please… let us handle things out here first," Chrom said as he placed a hand on Emmeryn's shoulder. "You shouldn't be here right now. Let me get someone to escort you back to–"

The Exalt shook her head. "You will do no such thing, Brother," she replied icily. "I will not be going anywhere."

Chrom's grip slackened in shock. "Emm…?" he whispered, completely taken aback. He'd never heard his sister take such a cold tone with him before.

Emmeryn sighed. "You said it yourself, did you not?" she asked rhetorically, her expression calm save for her grey-green eyes that were clearly expressing her disappointment. "You claimed that I am blind to the suffering of my people and that I am out of touch with reality. You cannot expect to say what you did and then keep me coddled and in the dark."

The prince recoiled, as if he'd been physically struck across the face. His expression was nothing short of aghast.

"Emm…!" he said. "That's not what I…"

The Exalt smiled sadly. "Not what you meant?" she asked gently, her tone losing much of its earlier ice. "If that is so… then I would advise that you think of your words more carefully, my brother, lest they come back to haunt you later. Your contradictory words and actions would only shame you before those who you would one day rule over."

Robin winced as he watched Chrom step away from Emm as if he'd just been burned after touching a boiling hot cauldron.

'Ouch… that's pretty harsh. Perhaps it might be necessary… but it's harsh nonetheless.'

He made to step in, but before anyone could so much as get another word in, the sound of a pegasus' flapping wings on the wind alerted the group to the presence of one of Phila's pegasus knights in the skies above.

"Milord! Your Grace!" the knight cried out, her long red hair whipping about with the wind as she brought her pegasus down in a gentle dive towards the quintet.

While soldiers all around the trio moved quickly to make space for the knight and her steed to land, Robin simply stayed where he stood as he marvelled at the pegasus' swift and graceful movements.

'Say what you want about Phila's no-nonsense personality, but you can't deny the results of her training methods. This knight is showing us a fine example of exemplary mount control.'

The pegasus gently touched down, its hooves clattering upon the cobblestone of the city square as it bled off the forward momentum its dive had carried. As soon as the pegasus had come to a halt, the knight dismounted from her winged steed, giving it a caress on the neck before moving forward from behind the beast's frame and allowing Robin to finally get a good look at her.

What he saw certainly got his attention and made him do a double-take at the sight.

The pegasus knight was nothing short of stunning. Her long, lustrous crimson locks – and Robin had to emphasize just how long, because they reached all the way down to her thighs – cascaded down her back in artfully messy waves, framing soft features that were already beautiful even when twisted with an expression of slight anxiety.

Her slim physique – one that would be the subject of many another woman's envy – beneath her short red riding dress and silver light armor pointed to her having a naturally slender frame that would have only been honed and refined by her training as a pegasus knight. However, it was the way the knight carried herself with confidence and poise that emphasized just how physically blessed she actually was, especially when her confident gait so easily drew attention to the long, shapely legs that were mostly hidden by her thigh-high riding boots.

'Wow. Just… wow. Skills and looks in equal measure.'

Robin turned his eyes away and swallowed to rid his watering mouth of its liquid contents lest he be caught drooling at the sight of such an exquisite member of the opposite sex. He just hoped no one took notice of his behaviour or realized what was going through his mind.

He turned his attention back to the pegasus knight, watching as she rushed to kneel before Emmeryn and Chrom, her eyes lingering just a moment too long on the latter before she averted her eyes and lowered her gaze to the ground.

'Oh my… looks like Chrom has another not-so-secret admirer…'

"Cordelia, report," Phila said as she stepped forward from where she stood at Emmeryn's shoulder.

Robin's eyes almost immediately bugged out of their sockets as his mind registered the knight's name.

'CORDELIA?!' he roared mentally. 'She's that friend Sumia mentioned?!'

The tactician had been about to go off on an internal rant, but then he remembered the look Cordelia had sent Chrom's way.

'Oh Naga, they're both angling for Chrom,' he thought with growing horror. 'This… okay, this could end quite badly.'

However, he quickly pushed thoughts of the potential disaster and headache that the Chrom-Sumia-Cordelia love triangle might present him with out of his mind. There were more important things to be thinking about right now, such as whatever information Cordelia might have.

Cordelia raised her eyes to look at her commander. "Yes, ma'am! My squadron and I have spotted groups of what seem to be enemy troops towards the west!"

Phila narrowed her eyes. "The west, you say?" she asked. "Were you able to get a clear look at them?"

The redheaded knight nodded. "We didn't get too close in the odd chance they had archers or mages among their number, but we were able to make out some details using spyglasses."

She took a breath, glancing at some of the corpses as she did so, and then dropped the bomb.

"We made out similar armor and garments to… what the dead marauders were clad in. We have reason to believe they're Plegian soldiers scouting out Themis for more possible incursions."

Chrom, predictably, almost immediately turned to Frederick. "Get the Shepherds together and prepare for combat! Pull some of the mounted knights from the reconstruction and aid efforts and get them ready to move out! We'll use them to circle around and pincer the enemy in!"

"It will be done, milord," Frederick said. "However, might I advise–?"

The knight was ignored as Chrom quickly turned again, this time to the steel-haired wing commander of Ylisse's pegasus knights.

"Wing Commander, could you spare a squadron of your knights?" he asked. "Any air support we can get will no doubt be useful in chasing them down!"

Phila nodded gravely. "Of course, I shall see right to it."

Robin sighed irritably, wondering how Chrom could be so reckless all the time, before deciding it was best he get in the way of things before Chrom inevitably led them into a death trap.

"Belay that order, Frederick, Wing Commander," he said evenly, his voice somehow still rising over the din even if it was no louder than normal. "We aren't pursuing."

All movement and sound stopped as the tactician's words registered with all those within hearing.

Chrom was the first one to react, the prince turning and giving Robin a look of betrayal that clearly demonstrated that he almost felt as if the tactician had just publicly taken a vow of loyalty to Plegia.

"What?! Why?!" he asked hotly. "Robin, they're–"

"Right there? Almost as if they're taunting you to come out?" the tactician replied coolly, stopping Chrom in his tracks. "That's exactly why we're not going to pursue, Chrom. The Plegians – if it really was them, and I'm quite sure you're at least right on this account in saying it was them – attacked Themis several days ago. They've already accomplished what they set out to do, so why come back, then?"

Robin shook his head. "The only reason they'd return and show themselves now is because they know we're here and want to draw us out," he continued, before glancing at Emmeryn. "I can't tell you for sure why they'd want to do that. However, if I had to take a guess, I'd say the Plegians have another group hiding nearby that will likely try to go after the Exalt once we take the bait and spread our forces thin."

Phila looked troubled by the thought. "The Exalt? Are you sure, Tactician Robin?" she asked, worry clearly evident in her voice even if her face hid behind a mask of impassivity.

Robin shrugged. "Of course I'm not," he replied quickly and easily. "I'm just stating what I would do if I was in their place. Whoever is leading the Plegians has no qualms with ransacking Themis or razing smaller Ylissean villages to the ground. Trying to kidnap the Exalt would certainly not be above them; they already kidnapped Lady Maribelle to use as a bargaining chip, and I have no doubt in my mind they'd do the same to Exalt Emmeryn if we give them the opportunity."

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying we should do nothing?" he asked, barely keeping his anger and frustration under control.

"I'm not saying we shouldn't do anything, Chrom, otherwise we won't be able to get Lady Maribelle back," Robin shot back. "What I am saying is that we shouldn't play their game. On the battlefield, dancing to the enemy's tune is the same as getting yourself killed."

Chrom growled, but before the prince could even muster up a reply of some sort, another voice cut into the conversation.

"Hah! Well said, young man," the new voice said, prompting Robin – and indeed everyone else around him involved in the conversation – to turn in direction the words had come from.

Walking up to them was a tall, fair-skinned man who Robin guessed was somewhere in his early forties due to the look of experience in his sharp, light blue eyes, though he could definitely pass for a man ten years younger if the tactician simply based his assessment on the other man's youthful features and trim build. His blonde, medium-length hair was combed back in a very aristocratic manner, lending him a noble bearing in spite of the white beginning to creep in at the temples.

He was dressed in a crisp, well-cut military uniform composed of tunic, trousers, and boots, though Robin was sure that in combat situations the ensemble was also supposed to include breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves. His general appearance, combined with his regal bearing and poise, made him cut quite the intimidating figure.

… Not that Robin would allow himself to show any sign of weakness to anyone, whether friend or foe.

He tilted his head in question. "I'm sorry, but you are…?" he asked evenly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chrom cringe and try to signal a message at him, but he chose to ignore the prince for now.

The new arrival let out a bark of laughter that looked very much at odds with the scenery around him.

"Well, young man, I'll give you a clue," the other man replied, chuckling good-naturedly. "You're standing in my city."

Robin's brow furrowed in thought. "Huh, your city…?" he murmured, before his eyes widened at the implications of the man's words. "Wait, your city?! But that means–!"

'Don't tell me that was what Chrom was trying to tell me…'

"Correct. I am Marcus, the Duke of Themis," the man affirmed, a small smile twisting his lips as he witnessed Robin's growing horror. "And you must be Prince Chrom's new tactician. I've heard quite a bit about you, lad."

Robin nodded dumbly. "Y-yes, that's right. My name… is Robin, um… sir," he replied, giving a respectful half-bow in spite of his surprise.

Duke Marcus let out another bark of laughter, prompting a rather surprised Robin to risk a peek from beneath his bangs.

"Come now, none of that, lad. Raise your head," he admonished as he placed a hand on the tactician's shoulder and eased him back into an upright position. "Our respective positions matter not. Right now, we're simply fellow soldiers tasked with protecting our fair halidom."

"R-right… t-thank you, sir."

Duke Themis chuckled, patting the tactician's shoulder before slipping past him and moving to kneel before the Exalt.

"Your Grace, I wish this meeting could have happened under better circumstances," he said lowly, his head bowed in respect. "However, I thank you for coming so quickly. Your aid and presence are most welcomed and appreciated."

Emmeryn shook her head. "Nonsense, Duke Themis. It is I who must apologize for having allowed this to happen," she replied softly. "Please, rise. I am certain that we have much to discuss about what has happened here, and what course of action we must take going forward."

"Yes. I expected that you and Prince Chrom would want to be updated on the situation," Marcus said as he rose to his feet. "If you would follow me, we can speak more at the war room we have prepared in my villa."

'War room, huh…' Robin thought to himself, glancing once again at his surroundings and the soldiers moving about working. 'I guess we really are at that point, aren't we?'

Chrom stepped forward. "I'll be bringing Robin with me, if that's fine," he said. "Frederick will handle things out here in my stead."

"Of course," Marcus agreed. "Your tactician's insight will most certainly be valuable in our discussions."

The Exalt inclined her head in agreement. "Yes, I agree… however, before we go…" she murmured, directing a meaningful gaze at Robin.

"Tactician Robin."

The white-haired man straightened. "Y-Your Grace."

Emmeryn smiled, almost knowingly if the twinkle in her grey-green eyes was any indication.

"Your earlier insights as to possible threats against us will not be taken lightly," she said kindly. "Please, I would hear your recommended course of action given the present situation."

Robin blinked, and as Emmeryn's words sank in he became acutely aware that everyone's eyes were on him. Emmeryn, Chrom, Frederick, Wing Commander Phila, Duke Marcus… hell, even that gorgeous flame-haired pegasus knight Cordelia was watching him with rapt attention.

'Damn it all…' he cursed mentally, feeling sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and temples as his companions awaited his response.

For all that his position as a tactician demanded that people pay attention to him when he was talking tactics, Robin actually disliked being put into situations that required him to speak before people belonging to higher stations than his own.

His conversation with Emmeryn back in Ylisstol had made that fact painfully obvious, and he was still sure that his poorly-concealed nervousness and discomfort had not gone unnoticed even if the Exalt had not brought it up in any way, shape, or form since then.

'I wonder if that's why she seems to have taken some sort of interest in me… she could have asked just about anyone else for their input!'

"Robin? Are you alright?" a voice asked, snapping the tactician out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

The snow-haired tactician blinked his hazel eyes, belatedly realizing that Chrom had stepped in closer to him at some point during his internal discussion. Concern was clearly evident on the other man's expression, something which Robin tried to ignore for the time being, although there was also a sense of curiosity in his searching blue eyes.

Robin shook his head once, sharply, trying to dispel all unnecessary thoughts – including Chrom's apparent concern – from his mind. The last thing he needed right now was mental distractions that might hinder him from performing his duties as a tactician.

'Come on, Robin, get it together… there will be time to think about your own personal issues later.'

When his thoughts were a bit more organized, Robin finally allowed himself to focus on Chrom, his hazel eyes locking gazes with the other man's deep blue.

"Are you alright?" the prince repeated again.

"Oh, Chrom… sorry, I just spaced out in thought for a bit," Robin replied vaguely, not quite wanting to give anything away to his captain. As touching as the prince's concern was, Robin really wanted to avoid having anyone think he was compromised due to personal issues.

Chrom's frown grew just that little bit deeper upon hearing the tactician's answer, but he seemed to get the hint and, however reluctantly, decided to back off for now.

Taking an inaudible breath, Robin composed himself and turned his attention back to Emmeryn. Robin resisted the urge to groan upon seeing the Exalt's twinkling eyes and knowing quirk of the lips.

She knew. By the goddess, she knew.

The realization nearly shattered the tenuous hold Robin held on his composure, and it was only by sheer willpower – or some sort of divine intervention – that the tactician's mind in him managed to stave off the instinct to descend into panic.

Coughing to hide his discomfort, he decided to simply push on forward and try to give them a different reason for their attention.

"I apologize. I was lost in thought thinking over possibilities…" he said smoothly, although the way the corners of Emmeryn's lips rose just a tiny bit more showed she wasn't convinced in the slightest.

'Damn it.'

Regardless, she for whatever reason was again refusing to bring it up. "It is understandable," she commented kindly. "One in your position must consider many things when lives hang in the balance with every decision made, after all."

Robin stopped himself from grimacing at her choice of words. Oh, she knew, all right. She knew exactly what his issues were.

'She can read me like a book, and she's sending me subtle hints to let me know… damn, damn, damn.'

He cleared his throat to hide the resigned sigh that wanted to escape his lips. Best to roll with the punches for now and see what happens if and when she does decide to open up the topic with him.

"Thank you for your understanding, Your Grace," he said, and he doubted that he'd ever been more sincere aside from perhaps his conversation with Lucina back in Ferox. "Now… how we are going to react will be based not on the enemy we know, but on the enemy we do not."

Upon noting the questioning frowns, Robin nodded at the flame-haired pegasus knight. "Cordelia, yes? You said your squadron sighted enemies to the west, towards the border with Plegia." At the nod of confirmation from the obviously confused knight, he cupped his chin in thought. "Right, so we know there are enemies in that direction. What we don't know is if there aren't enemies to the north or the south, waiting for us to take the bait."

Nodding to himself, Robin lowered his hand and regarded those around him. "So, here's what I suggest we do. First, we should create a rotating roster for Phila's pegasus knight squadrons and ensure that we have at least two or three squads in the air at all times. Their job will be to scout the area around Themis and be on the lookout for any approaching enemies. We'll also post sentries at every conceivable entry point into the city so we have an extra set of eyes and ears to work with."

"Meanwhile," he continued. "The supply convoy will set up shop here in the city square while the rest of the troops continue providing aid to Themis' residents. If our scouts or sentries spot any enemy movements, they sound the alarm immediately and ensure that information gets to where it needs to go – that's the Exalt and Prince Chrom. When the main body of our troops are armed and suited up, they'll form up ranks and move to take defensive positions. We only have about a hundred and fifty troops – maybe double that number if you include Her Grace's honor guard and Wing Commander Phila's pegasus knights – so we're almost certainly going to be outnumbered if Plegia does come attacking… but I'll have some strategies readied that should allow us to at least hold off an invasion until reinforcements from Ylisstol can arrive to assist us."

Only when Robin finally stopped talking did he realize that everyone around him was staring in various expressions of amazement.

"Uh… is there something wrong?" he asked worriedly, wondering if he'd accidentally said something that rubbed people the wrong way.

The silence was broken by Duke Themis letting out a bark of laughter.

"Hah! Wrong? There's nothing wrong, lad!" the Duke commented. "Your reasoning is sound, and speaks to experience far beyond what someone of your years should normally be able to attain."

Phila almost smiled. "In spite of any misgivings I have concerning Tactician Robin's origins, I must agree with His Excellency Duke Themis," the veteran knight said, adding her own thoughts to the Duke's own. "He has given us a fine plan, and he also advocates for caution and patience, which is something we need to exercise when there are still many unknowns."

Emmeryn nodded sagely. "Your opinions are both welcomed and appreciated, Phila, Duke Marcus," she acknowledged, before her attention turned to her younger brother. "And what of you, Chrom? Have you anything you wish to add?"

Chrom frowned for a few moments as his eyes searched Robin's own, the tactician standing his ground and resolutely meeting the prince's blue-eyed gaze with his own.

Eventually, he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I don't particularly like that we aren't doing anything," he admitted. "Waiting around just doesn't sit well with me."

The Exalt let a smile touch her lips. "Your preference for immediate action is something we have all come to expect of you, brother," she replied. "However, I sense you still have something to add."

Chrom hesitated for a moment, but let out a resigned sigh.

"You know me too well, sister… you're right when you say I'd rather do something right away," he said. "However, I've said it before, and I'll continue to say it: I trust Robin. I have to believe that he knows how best for us to proceed."

Emmeryn's blinked once, slowly. "I see. Thank you, Chrom."

Seemingly satisfied, she turned her attention back to the snow-haired tactician, who stiffened ever so slightly as he once again came under her gentle scrutiny.

Robin swallowed thickly as the Exalt's eyes searched his face, locking onto his hazel eyes so intently it almost felt like she were looking through him.

"Tactician Robin… I would ask but one question," she ventured softly, speaking so suddenly Robin nearly jumped in surprise. "As a tactician, what is your priority? What motivation drives you when you create your strategies?"

For his part, Robin bowed slightly in respect. "Your safety – and indeed everyone else's, as much as possible – is my highest priority, Your Grace," he answered honestly, managing to keep his anxiety and surprise from his face and body language. "There is no sense in achieving any 'victory' if at the end of the day I come home with more people dead than alive. The soldiers with us aren't just resources or pawns to use in my strategies. Above all, the lives of those at my command are my responsibility, and one I do not take lightly."

The Exalt gave Robin a kind, grateful smile in response. "I see. Then I shall trust in your plan," she said. "Phila, if you would be so kind?"

The veteran falcon knight nodded. "Of course, Your Grace. I will see to it immediately."

As Phila turned to carry out Robin's orders, Emmeryn turned her attention back to their young white-haired tactician.

"Raise your head, my friend," she said, leaning in and doing as Duke Themis had done earlier. "Let me look you in the eye as I give you my thanks for your support."

Robin did as the Exalt had bid him and allowed her to bring him back to a fully standing position where his own eyes could meet her gentle, grey-green gaze.

"Please continue to do as you have, Tactician Robin," she said. "I am gladdened to be reassured by your words and deeds that my belief in you has been validated."

Robin couldn't help but smile, even in the grave situation they found themselves in.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he replied. "I hope to continue to be worthy of your trust and regard."

Emmeryn returned the tactician's smile, before turning back to Duke Themis.

"I suppose we must be going, yes? There is much we need to discuss, after all."

---

Location: Duke Themis' Villa

Robin sighed as he sank into a seat within the common room of an empty apartment wing that Duke Themis had been kind enough to provide to the Shepherds during their brief stay in Themis.

If he were in a perfectly normal state of mind he'd have been profusely grateful, but given what had transpired during the earlier discussions with Emmeryn and the Duke he couldn't even take a few minutes to appreciate this minor luxury.

All he could do was put his face in his hands and groan as he remembered Frederick bursting into the war room without any preamble or prior warning, carrying a letter addressed to the Exalt in his hands which the knight said came from a man who had claimed to be a Plegian messenger.

At first, Chrom and Duke Marcus had been rather dubious, but as soon as Robin had seen the wax seal on the parchment and identified it as the royal seal of Plegia, Emmeryn had wasted no time in unfurling the letter and reading its contents.

"Gangrel wants to hold face-to-face peace negotiations, huh…" he murmured as he recalled Chrom and Duke Marcus' shared outrage at the Plegian king's audacity. "Right on the border… no more proxies and diplomats, and no military units present, either…"

He shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and twisted amusement.

'This reeks of a trap, through and through,' he thought, rubbing his face tiredly to ease some of his mental exhaustion. 'Surely King Gangrel doesn't think Emmeryn that naïve, does he?'

Given Chrom's words and behavior during the war council back in Ylisstol, though…

Robin snorted. 'Okay, maybe it's not that far-fetched given Emmeryn's own brother thinks the same of her.'

That said, Emmeryn fully intending to meet with King Gangrel on his terms did make everyone's lives a bit harder, his own included.

'… My own, especially.'

The problem was that as much as he wanted to talk Emmeryn out of it, though, he just knew she wouldn't budge on this one, and the frustration from that realization was what was really winding him up.

He buried his face in his hands again and moaned. "By the goddess, why are they all so thrice-damned stubborn…?!" he griped.

"You don't seem to be a very happy camper," Chrom's voice suddenly said. "Penny for your thoughts?"

'Speak of the devil,' Robin thought rather dryly. Stifling a groan, the tactician raised his head to look up blearily at the prince standing next to one of the empty chairs at his table.

Chrom frowned. "Wow, you don't look too good. Are you alright?"

'We're about to go to war, and my job hasn't gotten any easier since we got here. How do you think I'll be feeling after all that?' Robin wanted to ask him.

The tactician simply settled for a half-hearted glare that hopefully would be enough answer for Chrom's question.

Given how the prince raised his hands in a placating manner, the message seemed to get across well enough.

"Right, right…" Chrom murmured. "But would you mind if I… well, picked your mind for a bit?"

Robin shrugged as he pushed off the table to lean back in his chair and regard his captain with an appraising look.

"Suit yourself, you're the boss around here," he replied nonchalantly. "What do you need?"

Chrom took the seat across from Robin and leaned forward, resting his head against his interlocked fingers.

He didn't speak for a long while, and that was clue enough to Robin that whatever it was the prince wanted to ask his tactician about was something important.

'Probably about Emmeryn's meeting with King Gangrel, if I have to guess… he's been on edge ever since that letter was opened.'

After a few moments of silence, Chrom looked up from where he'd been staring at a spot on the table and locked eyes with Robin.

"What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

'Bingo.'

Robin crossed his arms thoughtfully. "You're talking about that meeting King Gangrel proposed, right?"

Chrom nodded, making Robin sigh in response.

"It's a trap," he said simply after a brief moment of silence. "Given everything that's happened thus far, I don't doubt that he'd resort to some sort of underhanded tactic."

"Ah, so we think the same, then," Chrom murmured, his thumbs moving to rub at his temples and forehead. "I've given orders for the Shepherds to prepare to march as the Exalt's honor guard. I'm – we're – not going to allow Emmeryn to go meet King Gangrel by herself."

Robin smirked. "Resorting to the use of loopholes, are we?" he commented, said smirk transforming into a grin as Chrom gave him a wry smile. "No military units, but we're not exactly a proper unit of the Ylissean Royal Army, so…"

"I trust Gangrel even less than I do our own councilors and strategists, and you know my distaste for politics and self-centered schemers."

Robin raised an eyebrow, making Chrom suddenly backpedal as he realized just what his words implied.

"P-present company excluded, of course."

The snow-haired tactician chuckled. "Easy, Chrom, I know what you meant. I take no offense. It is a tasteless job, at times. There's no shame in me admitting that."

Chrom chuckled nervously. "R-right… so, can I count on you to prepare our deployment plans, as always?"

Robin nodded. "Of course, that's why you hired me, isn't it?" he replied. "Don't worry, I'll have something ready by the time we move out tomorrow."

Chrom grinned brightly. "Excellent," he said. "Thank you, Robin. You are ever the reassuring presence in our camp."

Robin simply shook his head. "Nonsense, Chrom. We all have our part to play in this. It's not all on me."

"Hah… you really are too modest, my friend," the prince commented as he stood up. "But I guess that's why we all trust you so."

"It would be very bad if some of the Shepherds didn't," Robin pointed out.

This time it was Chrom's turn to shake his head.

"Ah, you misunderstand," he said, his grin dimming ever so slightly as it was replaced instead with a warm smile. "I was referring to myself and Emmeryn… she expressed her confidence in you after the meeting earlier, you know. Even Duke Themis couldn't help but be impressed by your composure, and he's quite the tough audience."

That gave Robin pause. 'Emmeryn said…?'

"You shouldn't act so surprised," Chrom continued. "You've proven yourself time and again, my friend. I think you've more than earned the trust we give you."

He chuckled, not quite noticing the shocked expression on the tactician's features.

"Don't stay up too late tonight, Robin," he said. "We'll need you at your best tomorrow."

Robin's eyes watched Chrom as he left… watched as the prince casually threw a wave over his shoulder before stepping through the arch that separated the common room from the main corridor. Robin's eyes remained locked onto the common room's entryway long after Chrom had already disappeared through it, and through it all Robin himself couldn't stop an ever-deepening frown from marring his features.

"Lady Emmeryn still wishes to place her trust in someone like me…?" he murmured. "Someone of unknown origins… someone who clearly has some kind of performance and trust-related anxiety…"

Robin sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the frown on his lips gave way to a rueful smile.

"Damn, I really can't let her down after hearing that, can I?" he said to no one in particular as he rose from his own chair to head back to the solo suite that Chrom – Naga bless him – had been gracious enough to set aside for his use.

As Robin made the short trek down the corridor to his quarters, his mind was already racing as he imagined the various strategies and situations that could play out… and he quickly came to the conclusion that they were in a real bind thanks to Gangrel's demand that Emmeryn come to the meeting without any troops accompanying her.

That left Robin with very few options open to him, and led to the grim realization that the situation had already forced his hand.

'Looks like I'll need to play my ace a bit earlier than I would have thought or liked…'

Robin grimaced at the thought of having to put young Ricken into a potentially dangerous position, but he really had no other choice at the moment. He also knew the bold young mage would do whatever was asked of him – so desperate was he to be of service to Chrom and to Exalt Emmeryn that Robin just knew without any shadow of doubt that the boy would not hesitate to jump into danger.

'Damn it, I just hope this doesn't end badly…'

The Exalt's safety was the primary goal, above all else, and he needed to take every desperately needed advantage he could get… even if it meant ordering Shepherds into harm's way to ensure Emmeryn's continued safety.

Robin knew he'd have to give orders tomorrow. A battle was almost inevitable at this point.

Robin knew the Shepherds would all willingly follow his orders and protect Emmeryn without any hesitation; such was the depth of their loyalty and dedication to their Exalt and to their Captain that they'd emulate the trust he held in their tactician.

He just hoped that the orders he would give tomorrow were good enough that he could bring everyone home in one piece.

---

Location: Plegia-Ylisse Border

The morning could not have come any quicker, and if someone were to ask Robin about it he'd say it had come far too quickly for his liking given just how limited his preparations were. Even now, he found himself going over his plans again and again to try and find any other holes that he'd try to plug before something went horribly, horribly wrong.

The Shepherds were currently marching for the Plegia-Ylisse border, serving as the Exalt's honor guard in place of the actual honor guard that accompanied the Exalt in any of her visits to foreign lands. Chrom, as usual, led the way out in front, with Duke Marcus walking alongside the prince and Robin right behind the pair of them. Unlike yesterday, the Duke was now clad in full silver plate armor and carried a lance slung over his shoulder, clearly indicating to everyone that he came ready for a fight.

'That's a relief, though. I have a feeling we'll need every bit of help we can get.'

Frederick had moved back from his usual position near Chrom and Lissa to take the spot alongside Emmeryn, who sat astride her own horse in the middle of their formation. That left Lon'qu to stand near Lissa as her newly-assigned bodyguard, and it had surprised Robin to learn that Frederick had accepted the myrmidon's assignment without much fuss, especially when considering it had been upon the tactician's own recommendation that Chrom had signed off on the idea.

Sumia was scouting for Robin as she always was, but unlike most normal situations she had Wing Commander Phila for company up in the skies. Robin wasn't too surprised by her presence given her adamant refusal to stay behind, although he was surprised – pleasantly so – and grateful for her willingness to assist and be an extra set of eyes up above.

Sully and Stahl took to the rear of the group as per Robin's instructions, keeping a short distance back to allow them to easily break away and secure the Exalt an escape route back to Themis in the unlikely – but still possible – situation that they'd need to make a quick retreat. The rest of the Shepherds were interspersed between Chrom at the front and the two mounted knights at the rear, eyes watching every direction in case the Plegians were lying in wait.

The meeting place Gangrel had specified was located within the mountainous region that marked the border between the Halidom of Ylisse and the Theocracy of Plegia, and as they drew ever closer to the mountain range that separated the two countries Robin watched with an odd fascination as the lush greenery that he'd come to associate with the Ylissean landscape began to disappear. The grass and bushes lining the mountain roads noticeably grew dry and arid, and even the earth itself seemed to have become dusty and parched.

For some reason, though, the feeling of the dry air and the sight of the barren landscape wasn't an unfamiliar or unwelcome one to Robin. In fact, everything around the tactician right now just seemed to evoke an odd sense of familiarity, one that almost seemed to be tugging at something – probably a forgotten memory – deep within his subconscious.

However, as much as Robin wanted to latch onto the feeling and follow it back to a potential hint about his past, he also couldn't help but dread what was waiting to be discovered, especially given what the feeling might be potentially implying.

'Gods… I hope this doesn't mean what I think it might mean.'

So focused was he on his thoughts that he belatedly realized Chrom had stopped walking and barely managed to avoid crashing into the prince's back.

"O-oh, sorry, Chrom!" he stammered out as he looked around. "Why'd we stop?"

Chrom chuckled. "Robin, we're already here," he replied with a smirk. "You've had your head in the clouds for the past fifteen minutes."

Robin flushed lightly in embarrassment as he heard the snickers from some of the other Shepherds, and he knew then that everyone had noticed his distraction and had decided to have a bit of fun at his expense. He'd been so buried within his own thoughts that he'd somehow managed to not notice that both Sumia and Phila had already landed and were approaching the group at a trot.

'They probably even landed because the others wanted to see if I'd notice…' Robin thought sourly. 'I have been so had just now.'

The tactician couldn't do much else but sigh in resignation as he watched Frederick assisted Emmeryn in dismounting from her horse, the Exalt's light traveling boots kicking up small clouds of dust as they touched down upon the road's surface.

'At least morale's high…'

Taking a look around to examine the area, Robin found that they'd arrived at a multi-tiered cliff area where the mountain road began to take a steeper climb up towards the mountain range's peaks. A small, seemingly deserted fort was sprawled across the three "landings" of the area, appearing almost as if it had been built into the mountain. To any normal traveler using the road the fort might have seemed innocent enough, but Robin wasn't nearly convinced.

"Those forts there…" Robin murmured, making Chrom and Duke Marcus turn to him. Noticing their attention, he pointed towards the man-made structures up ahead. "Those buildings up ahead; they used to be a Plegian border post. I'd heard it was abandoned, but…"

"But…?" Chrom prodded carefully.

Robin frowned. "It's far too quiet, and that's making me more than a little uneasy…" he murmured anxiously. "The Plegians should have arrived first, and yet we can't see or hear anyone or anything. We should definitely tread carefully."

Duke Marcus' brows furrowed in thought. "Hmm… the Plegians abandoned this border fort, you say?" he asked, expression curious. "I must admit that this is the first I've heard of this. Where did you hear it, lad?"

"I, as well, am curious as to where you came across this information, Tactician Robin," Emmeryn said as she walked up to the group, Phila ever present at her side. "We haven't scouted in this area in quite some time, since Plegia may view us sending pegasus knights here as a sign of aggression."

Behind the two women, Robin could see Frederick casting a suspicious glare in his direction, the knight doubtlessly having overheard his earlier remarks about the forts.

"Well, Robin?" Chrom said, his voice betraying the slight impatience he was feeling.

Robin's frown deepened. "I…" he murmured, averting his eyes and clutching at his forehead.

'Where did I learn all of this…? Could it be that I'm…?'

By whatever stroke of fortune, however, he was saved by answering by someone shouting at their group from above.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all of her radiance?!"

They all turned their gazes up in the direction that the voice had come from.

Standing at the top of a small rise overlooking their group was a fairly tall man with pale, almost grey-colored, skin, wild red hair, and a neatly trimmed red beard. He was of slight figure, though his dark trousers and a purple-lined black and white tunic hugged his frame just tightly enough to show off a well-defined build one might expect of a trained swordsman like Lon'qu. Bright golden armor protected the man's forearms and waist, the former of which ended in grey fingerless gloves while the latter was partially covered by a grey leather belt and tasset. Similarly designed grey leather pauldrons sat upon the man's shoulders, covered by a magnificent – if slightly ridiculous – high-collared yellow cape accentuated by a black-furred ruff. His appearance was topped off by a gold necklace hanging around his neck and the jeweled gold crown that sat upon his head.

'King Gangrel…?'

"Gangrel…" Chrom growled, his words confirming Robin's suspicions as to the man's identity.

At the very least, the Plegian King had remained true to his word with regards to meeting Emmeryn.

'Whether he actually came without any troops is a different matter altogether…'

A cruel smirk twisted King Gangrel's features. "I fear I must shield my eyes!" he continued, before erupting into mad, screaming laughter.

In stark contrast, Emmeryn was the picture of grace and serenity as she stepped forward from within the Shepherds' protective formation.

"King Gangrel," she greeted, performing a pitch-perfect bow that Robin recognized was a customary greeting between high-level dignitaries. "I'm here, as agreed upon, so that I may learn the truth of the unfortunate incidents and wanton attacks that have been plaguing Ylisse in the past weeks."

Robin could see Duke Themis bristle at the mention of 'unfortunate incidents', but he simply chalked it down to Emmeryn being diplomatic rather than accusatory.

'Easy, Duke Marcus… easy… let's not start things so hastily.'

The woman that had been standing a few steps back from Gangrel, almost unnoticed until this point, chose to step forward and stand at her king's side.

"The truth?" she purred coyly, her voice sounding to Robin almost like honeyed poison. "I can give you the truth you're looking for…"

Robin turned his attention to the woman next to the Plegian king, and almost instantly felt his blood turn to ice. Only through the most tenuous of holds on his self-control did he manage to keep any reactions from crossing his features, because his mind, heart, and soul was screaming at him that he knew this woman.

The woman was the very definition of "seductress", with a curvaceous body of tanned, earthen skin not dissimilar to the earthen Feroxi skin tones and shocking long white hair. She was clad in an outfit that was almost entirely black and only a small step away from immodesty. It started with the tight, form-fitting mini-dress that left almost nothing about her to the imagination; its neckline plunged all the way down past her navel, exposing much of her midriff and the entirety of her cleavage and inner breasts, while its short length left exposed what parts of her long, shapely legs were not covered by her black and gold patterned stockings and heeled riding boots. Ebony light riding armor adorned her hips, shoulder, neck, and black headdress, while a pair of golden belts crisscrossed across her waist.

However, Robin's eyes were drawn to the most unusual part of her appearance: the purple, tattoo-like markings on parts of her exposed torso and face that just screamed wrong at him. It was almost a familiar feeling to…

His eyes widened. 'It almost feels like the mark on my hand…'

Emmeryn, however, seemed to be unflappable as she took the woman's tone and appearance all in stride. If she was unsettled in any way, she gave no sign of it.

"Perhaps milady might first share her name?" she prompted, her serene tone and expression still in place.

The sultry woman chuckled deeply before performing an imitation of Emmeryn's bow that simply dripped of mockery and insolence.

"You may call me Aversa, Your Eminence."

Another pulse of familiarity erupted from within Robin at the mentioning of the woman's name, prompting a furrowing of his brows.

'Aversa… maybe I might have heard of her in the past…?'

He watched as Aversa's eyes wandered over their group, viewing each of the Shepherds with a cold, uncaring gaze… but her expression changed the moment her rust-colored eyes locked with his own. Her expression grew surprised for the briefest of moments before it was replaced by the grin of a well-fed predator that had just found its next meal.

'Oh, I knew you, alright. Your reactions are proof enough of that,' Robin thought. Unfortunately, any chances of confronting her and finding out about his past were close to nil considering they stood on opposite sides of a war just waiting to happen.

"Very well, Aversa," Emmeryn said, still polite and composed. "I trust that Lady Maribelle is unharmed?"

Gangrel made a confused expression. "Who?"

Aversa leaned in closer and whispered something into the King's ear, prompting a look of realization from the man.

"Ah, you mean that little blonde brat," he said dismissively, gazing over his shoulder and giving a lazy wave forward.

Robin frowned. "So I was right… he does have troops in hiding…" he murmured.

Realizing they'd be in for a fight, the tactician looked over his shoulder and discreetly sent a signal to Lon'qu and Virion – the Shepherds standing directly behind him – with an almost unnoticeable nod of his head. The myrmidon and archer both nodded to indicate having received his silent orders before turning to pass on the signal to those standing behind them.

Satisfied that the Shepherds were now preparing for possible combat, Robin turned his attention back to the front just in time to see a Plegian soldier appear over the crest of the rise, dragging along a restrained Maribelle with him.

"Unhand me, you gutter-born troglodytes!" he could hear her shout as she was brought forward, clearly not lacking in spirit or fire in spite of her harsh captivity.

Robin heard someone behind him – Virion likely – mutter "Do you think they'd even understand the meaning of such an insult?"

He resisted the urge to fire a quip back. Focus was absolutely paramount right now given their situation.

Duke Themis growled beneath his breath as his daughter came into full view, and when Robin took a closer look he could understand why the Duke would react in such a manner.

At first glance, Maribelle seemed unharmed, but upon closer inspection Robin quickly realized that was hardly the case. Dirt, grime, and dried blood caked the blonde girl's skin and hair, and Robin could clearly see swelling bruises and wounds where tears in her clothing had left her body exposed to the harsh elements. Her clothes were still mostly in one piece, though, which at least let Robin know that the worst hadn't happened to her during her captivity.

'Damn, she doesn't look very good…' he thought to himself, noticing that Maribelle was clearly favoring her left leg as she was dragged forward and that she swayed unsteadily once the Plegian held her before him for the Ylisseans to see. Even if they managed to get her back, she'd definitely be a liability should battle be joined.

"Maribelle!" Lissa cried out as she lunged forward to run towards her best friend, pure concern overriding any thought for the tense situation facing them now.

However, before she could even make it a few steps forward, Robin hooked an arm around her stomach and stopped her in her tracks.

"Lissa, no!" he whispered harshly. "Don't be hasty! I know you're worried about Maribelle, but we can't risk you getting captured as well!"

The princess turned to face him, teary eyes clearly showing her fear and anxiety.

"But, Robin…!"

For his part, Robin simply shook his head. "I promise you, we will bring her home safely. Just be patient for now and trust me."

Lissa stopped struggling against Robin's hold and nodded her assent after a short moment. Seeing she was placated and wasn't going to bolt, Robin released her.

Having heard the cry, Maribelle looked down at the Shepherds, and her eyes widened in astonishment as they locked onto her beloved friend.

"Lissa?" she asked, her voice drifting down to them from where she stood. "Lissa, Darling, is that you? What in the name of Ylisse are you doing here?!"

Before anyone could say any more, Aversa drew a single sharp fingernail along Maribelle's throat and jawline, silencing the girl.

Duke Themis made to move, but Chrom placed a hand on the man's armored chest, keeping him from doing anything rash.

"This girl crossed onto Plegian soil without our consent or proper documentation," Aversa said, her words still dripping from her lips like honeyed poison. "And what's more…" Here she smiled a smile that looked decidedly venomous and lacking in any form of concern or sincerity. "She even assaulted – and wounded – the brave Plegian soldiers who only sought to return her home."

"Lies!" Maribelle screamed. "You speak nothing but lies, you wretched old hag!" If looks could kill, Aversa would have been struck dead, such was the ferocity of Maribelle's eyes. "Did they not teach you the meaning of the word 'truth' in crone school?!"

Aversa's smile only grew. "You see? No manners whatsoever," she crowed triumphantly. "Such a nasty little bird simply had to be caged and… disciplined."

Gangrel nodded in agreement. "Such a violent temper speaks to her guilt," he added. "This will call for a weighty punishment in response." His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "And if the little tramp were to confess to being a Ylissean spy after we're done questioning her? My goodness! It would take an act of considerable good faith to repair our relations."

The king cackled in glee, and Robin knew exactly why he earned the moniker of 'Mad King of Plegia'.

He narrowed his eyes. 'Repairing relations is the last thing on this madman's mind. He's going to stop at nothing to get his war!'

"I have done nothing wrong!" Maribelle suddenly shouted, making Aversa noticeably frown at her continued defiance. "It is they who should confess! They are the ones who invaded Ylisse! They razed an entire village! When I attempted to intervene, they attacked my party, took me captive, and dragged me across the border. Let the plundered shops and charred homes of that village serve as my proof!"

Duke Themis turned to Emmeryn. "Your Grace, the soldiers that had been sent with Maribelle when she went to investigate were found in the very village they were trying to help. The survivors' testimonies can corroborate her claims that they were attacked!"

Gangrel scoffed. "Hah! That would only prove that Ylisse has an ever growing bandit problem – something that I hear oft as of late from my scouts…" he commented dismissively, before giving them all a wicked grin once more. "But, fear not, Your Graceliness, tonight I shall at the very least express my sympathies as I weep salty tears into my pillow for every last one of your dead villagers and plundered towns and villages… but only after I am assured of reparations for the damages we have incurred."

Duke Themis' grip on his spear was so tight Robin could have sworn the metal was creaking from the strain.

"You raze my countrymen's villages, you raze my own city, you kidnap my daughter, and you still have the gall to demand reparation?!" he said, clear rage building in his shaking voice. "Your Grace, we can't simply let this slide! Surely you aren't going to play his game!"

Up on the rise, Maribelle continued to struggle against her captor before Aversa struck her across the face, knocking the wind from the girl's sails and nearly moving Duke Themis to rash action were it not for Chrom's firm grip on the man's pauldron.

However, Robin could only watch with growing admiration for Maribelle as the girl raised her head defiantly, fire still burning in her burgundy eyes as she directed her gaze at the Exalt despite the angry red welt forming across her cheek.

"Your Grace, please!" Maribelle cried out, Robin's heart cracking as the hints of desperation began to creep into her strong, fiery voice. "You have to believe me!"

Duke Themis turned to Emmeryn. "Your Grace! We have to–!"

Emmeryn held up a hand, forestalling the Duke's comment. The steely look in her eyes and the tilt of her chin were commanding and authoritative, and it was then that Robin finally fully saw the family resemblance between the Exalt and the Prince.

"Peace, Marcus," she said simply. "I believe her."

Drawing herself to her full height, the Exalt looked King Gangrel in the eye, all pretences of her earlier serenity having dissipated from her expression. Instead, in its place was a calm, tranquil fury that looked decidedly out of place on the face of one as gentle as Emmeryn.

"Gangrel, release her," she said, her regal voice strong and firm. "Surely we can sort out these affairs and come to an agreement without having to resort to the use of any hostages."

The King's expression morphed into an expression of feigned offense, although Robin couldn't help but be wary of the strange, almost predatory gleam in his eye.

"Without so much as an apology?" he asked, affecting a tone of hurt that positively dripped with sarcasm. "Why should I even bother parleying with you, Exalt? We stand on Plegian soil! I'm well within my rights to have her blonde little head on a pike right this instant and make it home in time for supper afterwards!"

This time, it was Chrom who reacted. He'd managed to hold his tongue up till now because of Emmeryn's wishes, but the sight of Lissa's dear friend and a fellow Shepherd having their life threatened by Gangrel was enough to erode what little control he had over his temper.

"You black-hearted devil!" he roared, drawing Falchion from his sheath and pointing it straight at the Mad King.

Beside him, Duke Themis' face was contorted in anger. "You tell that whoreson soldier of yours to let my daughter go now!"

Seeing Chrom and the Duke losing their cool prompted a grin from Gangrel and a frown from Robin. This was exactly what the Plegian king wanted to see as he slowly began to run the Ylisseans out of options.

"Control your dogs, my dear Exalt," he said lowly, a dangerous edge to his tone. "They might just get someone hurt if they keep barking like that."

Robin narrowed his eyes as he watched the situation begin to deteriorate.

'Damn it, this isn't good… all these tempers are running too hot.'

Emmeryn turned and shot a scathing glare at the angered pair. The meaning was clear: "Back down. Allow me to handle this."

While his expression clearly showed his distaste for the silent order, Duke Themis nonetheless bowed in acquiescence and stepped back immediately.

Chrom, on the other hand, was far more obstinate in his stance. He met Emmeryn's gaze in what could only be described as open defiance, his eyes smoldering with burning rage that was just begging to be released through the sacred blade held in his right hand.

Emmeryn's eyes narrowed. "Chrom," she said sternly, gazing at her brother with eyes that were like icy steel.

When her brother refused to budge, Emmeryn's lips pulled down in a displeased frown.

"Chrom," she said, a more forceful edge creeping into her tone. "Stand down."

Exalt and prince continued to glare at each other for a few moments before, with a growl of frustration, the latter finally stepped back and lowered his blade.

Gangrel cackled at the scene playing out before him, clearly amused at how Chrom could so easily be played.

"Good, that's much better," he said patronizingly. "Now then, Your Graceliness… perhaps we might organize a trade, yes?"

When Emmeryn remained silent, Gangrel continued. "I return your precious Mari Contrary here in one piece, and in return you hand over the Fire Emblem!"

The Exalt gasped, and Robin saw that her calm façade had finally shattered, replaced with a look of surprise and – dare Robin say it – horror.

However, as surprising as it was to see the normally unflappable Emmeryn lose her composure, what had really caught his attention were those two significant words Gangrel had spoken.

'The Fire… Emblem…?'

Robin frowned as that sensation of familiarity made itself known each time he repeated the words in his mind, although this time it was accompanied by a sense of seeming urgency that refused to be shaken off. At the very least, he knew that this 'Fire Emblem' was something important that he in his past life – which he wasn't particularly eager to find out more about, given all the hints so far – might have known about or sought for reasons that were, as of yet, unknown.

"The Fire Emblem…?" Robin heard Emmeryn gasp, the Exalt unknowingly echoing the tactician's own thoughts. "But… why? Why would you desire Ylisse's national treasure?"

'That's quite the question to be asking, isn't it?'

"Because I know the legend!" a wide-eyed Gangrel roared in response, the man almost looking as if he were about to start frothing at the mouth. "The Fire Emblem is the key to having all of one's wishes realized! I have desired it for years, Your Graceliness! YEARS!"

Gangrel suddenly took on an eerie sense of calm. "And yet every year my birthday comes and goes without receiving anything from Ylisse…"

He sighed in an overly dramatic manner before chuckling darkly.

'Yep, he's definitely jumped off the deep end,' Robin thought, feeling decidedly unnerved by the Plegian king's erratic behavior.

Emmeryn's brows furrowed. "The Emblem's power is only meant for a single purpose, King Gangrel: to save the people in their hour of most desperate need," she replied, voice beginning to tighten from the stress of the situation. "Would you claim a wish more noble than that?"

"Why, Exalt, my wish is the same as the wish of every last one of my countrymen!" he replied, voice beginning to tremble with madness. "I wish for a grisly end for every last Ylissean! What could be a more noble wish than that?!"

Gangrel threw his head back in screaming laughter, and Robin could see Maribelle's eyes widen in growing fear at such a blatant display of insanity.

'This isn't good. He's so unstable that one wrong move can send everything straight to hell.'

His eyes suddenly widened in surprise as he spied something that, by all rights, shouldn't be happening.

'What in blazes are you doing up there?! Are you mad?!' Robin thought as, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ricken – or, rather, his floppy blue mage's hat – on a higher cliff just above where Gangrel and Aversa stood. He watched as the boy slowly crept his way forward, edging ever closer to a position directly above the two Plegians.

While Robin wanted to yell at the boy for his recklessness, he quickly realized that Ricken's initiative might just be the opportunity he'd need when – not if – the combat inevitably began.

'By the goddess, you're getting a talking to if I somehow make it out alive,' he thought, keeping the boy in sight only out of the corner of his eye while he kept most of his attention on the proceedings in front of him.

Emmeryn could only stare wide-eyed at her Plegian counterpart. "W-what…?" she breathed, looking as if she were unable to comprehend what she'd just heard from Gangrel's own lips.

Gangrel's expression twisted in rage. "Surely you have not forgotten what the last Exalt – your father – did to my country and my people!" he growled out angrily. "He named us heathens, lest we forget! His so-called crusade across Plegia butchered countless of my subjects and my kin and left many without fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, and siblings! And why?! Because we had a different faith! Because our faith stood in direct opposition to your own!"

'Ah… so that's what happened… the Plegian Crusades Chrom mentioned were started by their father…'

Robin frowned as a troubling thought occurred to him. '… So how could a warmonger like him have raised someone like… like Exalt Emmeryn…?'

Emmeryn allowed herself a moment. "… I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings," she replied. "But! I have sworn to never repeat the mistakes of the past! Gangrel, surely you can see that the Ylisse of old departed along with my father's passing! The Ylisse of the present is a realm of peace!"

"Ylisse is nothing more than a haven of hypocrisy and falsehoods!" Gangrel screamed as he drew his lightning bolt-shaped sword – a Levin Sword, Robin recognized – and waved it angrily at the Exalt.

He gestured sharply with his hand, prompting the Plegian soldier holding Maribelle to roughly force the girl to her knees before the Plegian king.

"Now, give me the Emblem!" he demanded, lowering his blade to the blonde girl's neck and pressing its edge against her throat. "Or your precious blonde whore of a subject really will have her head mounted on a pike!"

'This is getting completely out of hand… but, not yet… not yet…'

Maribelle looked directly at Emmeryn, and in spite of the fearful tears and trembling lower lip Robin could still see that fiery defiance in her burgundy eyes.

"No, Your Grace!" she shouted desperately. "I-I would sooner die than be a bargaining chip for this filthy reprobate!"

Emmeryn's' expression tightened. "No, Maribelle… I can't…"

Gangrel groaned in utter frustration, clearly having lost whatever semblance of patience he still had.

"Taaaaaalk talk-talk-talk-talk," he remarked disdainfully.

Robin narrowed his eyes. 'It looks like he's about had enough of this. Is it…?'

"It's time to speak louder than words!" he shouted as he raised his sword up into the air. "The negotiations are over, Your Luminosity! I shall have the Emblem if I have to pry it from your shiny dead hands!"

'So it is… they were waiting for us this whole time!' Robin thought as he watched Plegian soldiers suddenly begin to come streaming out from their hiding places in the underbrush and within the mountain fort, sword and axe wielders and even the occasional mage rushing forward in response to their king's orders.

"They've even got wyvern riders…" he murmured, watching as a squadron of the aforementioned flying soldiers rose into the air astride their reptilian mounts. "It'll be tough to fight or run while the enemy has air superiority… They have us right where they want us…!"

A trio of axe-wielding fighters that had been closer to the group charged in, making a beeline directly for the Exalt. However, before the lead of the trio could so much as even get within ten steps of her, Chrom had stepped into the ruffian's path and cut him down. The remaining two soldiers wisely chose to back off and retreat for the time being as Chrom hovered protectively before his sister, Falchion held before him in a two-handed grip.

"Stay back!" he shouted, Falchion positively gleaming in the midday sun as if it were reflecting the palpable fury of its wielder. "Come near her and you'll all suffer the same fate!"

Gangrel couldn't have been happier with the outcome. "Now that's a declaration of war if I've ever heard one…" he commented darkly, a twisted smile on his lips. "A big, messy war that will bleed you Ylisseans dry!"

"A declaration of war?!" Duke Themis asked as he hefted his spear. "It is you who first committed an act of war, Mad King!"

Gangrel dismissed the Duke's retort with a wave of his free hand.

"Bah! Like my people will care who actually started it!" he shot back as he turned to leave. "All they'll care about is that Plegia is at war with the hated Ylisse!"

As Gangrel took his leave, laughing maniacally all the while, Aversa smirked cruelly.

"But, since you're so intent on pinning the blame for this on someone…" she offered silkily. "Maybe you'd not mind if we pin the blame on your beloved daughter, now, would you?"

Duke Themis looked incensed. "You monsters!" he shouted, almost rushing forward alone were Robin not quicker on the draw.

"Duke Themis! Calm down and fall in with the rest of us, sire," Robin commanded. When the Duke turned to glare at him, he shook his head. "I know what you're going to say, but I can promise you that we'll get her back alive and in one piece. Just trust me, please. I need everyone's cooperation right now."

The Duke stood stock still for a few brief moments, Robin simply meeting his gaze resolutely. Of course, on the inside, he was quite the panicked mess as he wondered if he was about to be ordered off the battlefield and sent to the gallows for his insolence upon their return to Themis or Ylisstol.

Much to his surprise, however, the Duke simply sighed.

"… Very well," he said. "I was being selfish, and I let my own desires get the better of me. Please, direct me as you see fit."

Chrom shook his head as he laid a hand on the man's pauldron. "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us."

The prince turned to Robin and gave him a nod, indicating for the tactician to proceed.

It was a cue Robin was only all-too-happy to take up.

"Sully! Stahl!" he called out, the two mounted knights perking up at the sound of their names being called. "Scout out the path back to Themis! Make sure there aren't any ambushes waiting for us! If there are, one of you comes back while the other finds us an alternate path!"

The redhead almost looked disappointed. "Sure thing, boss man, but you better let me in on a brawl next time!"

"I'll be sure to do that!" Robin replied, exchanging grins with the fiery knight before she took off, Stahl giving the tactician a wave before following in Sully's tracks.

Turning, his eyes quickly sought out the other two knights he really needed right now. "Frederick! Commander Phila!"

"Sir Tactician," the Shepherds' lieutenant said as he came forward to stand at attention before Robin.

Phila fell in next to him a step later. "How may I be of assistance?"

Robin frowned. This decision… was definitely going to make the rest of his strategy difficult, but it was a necessary precaution he had to take.

"You'll be escorting the Exalt back to Themis," he said. "Frederick will guard her on the ground, while Wing Commander Phila will scout from the air. Work together, and ensure the Exalt gets to Themis safely. The rest of us will buy some time for you to get a head start."

Frederick's brows came together as he frowned. However, it was Phila who voiced the question Robin just knew Frederick wanted to ask.

"What of the prince and princess?" she asked.

Robin sighed heavily. "… I'll take responsibility for their safety," he replied. "I'll bring them home safely, I promise, but I need to secure the Exalt's retreat above all else."

Frederick nodded after a moment. "… I understand. Come, Phila."

As the two veteran knights moved off to help Emmeryn into the saddle of her own horse, Robin turned to the rest of the Shepherds to start giving orders.

"The rest of you, form up!" the tactician began to yell. "Kellam! Front and center with Chrom, Duke Themis, Vaike, and myself! We're holding the line here!"

The heavily-armored knight seemed to materialize out of nowhere in the space between the prince and the Duke, the two men almost jumping in surprise at the sudden appearance among their ranks of the Shepherds' quietest member.

'I really should try to make looking for Kellam a company-wide training exercise…' he thought, before shaking his head free of the idea.

There was work to be done.

"Virion and Miriel, focus on their wyverns when they're within range, targets of opportunity otherwise!" he continued to shout out instructions, the Shepherds hurriedly moving to comply with his orders. "We need to clear the skies so Sumia can fly unimpeded and strike from above! Speaking of, Sumia! Stay close to the ground until the skies have cleared! Engage any enemies that make it past our line or try to attack Virion and Miriel; you're their last line of defense! Lon'qu, you're in charge of protecting Lissa! Don't let those wyvern riders near her!"

Lissa looked at him worriedly. "But… what about Maribelle…?"

"We'll save her, don't worry!" Robin replied over his shoulder as he ran to take his place in the Shepherds' defensive line.

Chrom turned to look at him. "Your orders, Robin?"

Robin held a hand up. "We can't move recklessly," he replied. "We just have to be patient and weather the enemy's attack first."

Chrom looked ready to debate the issue, but the man held his tongue and simply chose to ready his sword.

'A good choice, to be honest,' Robin thought, eyeing the Plegian troops as they resumed their advance towards the Shepherds' defensive line.

The tactician pulled out his tome and cracked it open, runes burning to life around him as mana coursed through his arm and up to his fingertips. He raised his free hand, crackling with electricity, and let loose with a simple thunder spell that lanced straight up into the sky.

'Maribelle's in your hands, Ricken…'

Robin could only hope the inexperienced boy understood the signal, because he had more important things to worry about right now.

The tactician whipped his hand out again. "Elthunder!" he called out, firing off a trio of bolts into the encroaching tide of soldiers.

He watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as his spell tore through an axe-wielding soldier, dropping the man instantly.

One kill, one second into the battle.

---

As the battle was joined down below in the mountain pass, Aversa turned to Maribelle and leaned in close, her hand moving up to delicately trace a finger along the blonde girl's jawline.

"You poor, stupid little girl…" she purred, smiling in delight as Maribelle shuddered beneath her ministrations. "Are you really worth fighting a war over? Years from now, you'll be remembered only as she who caused the downfall of House Ylisse. Isn't that delightful?"

Maribelle shook her head violently. "No… No, that's… that's not…" she whispered, horror and grief lacing her tone of voice as tears began to pool at the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Lissa… Please, no…"

'Prince Chrom… Lissa… oh, I'm so sorry…!'

Aversa smirked, clearly pleased by the effect her words were having. "Don't worry, though, little girl. At the very least, you won't live long enough to see the downfall of your beloved country," she said, her tone falsely sweet as she drew a wicked looking dagger from her belt. "I suppose that's one mercy we'll be kind enough to give you as thanks for allowing us the war we've been wanting for so long…"

Maribelle closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears that were beginning to stream down her cheeks. All she could do now was wait for the sharp sting of cold metal piercing her chest.

It never came.

A particularly strong shove sent Maribelle sprawling to the ground with a cry of pain. The blonde girl did nothing to even try to get up; if this was the Plegians prolonging her agony, she'd not give them even the slightest bit of entertainment in her last moments.

However, after a moment or two more of waiting, it finally occurred to Maribelle that the pressure on her restrained arms was no longer present. In fact, she began to recognize the feeling in the air as that of leftover mana from the use of magic, and she belatedly began to realize that what had shoved her to the ground was actually…

'Wind magic…!'

Her eyes shot open, allowing her to see what had to be one of the most unlikely sights she'd ever expected.

Sliding down the cliff and then running the short distance to her… was a very familiar young mage.

"RICKEN?!"

"Sorry I caught you with that!" the rust-haired boy said breathlessly as he skidded to his knees next to her prone form. "Just hold still, I'll have you free in a bit."

Maribelle was honestly too surprised to really have done any moving, and so was quite cooperative as the mage lit a small flame on his finger tip to burn away the ropes binding her wrists together.

"Alright, you're free!" he said as he placed one of her arms over his shoulder, his own hand sliding around to gently hold onto her waist. "Let's get out of here!"

The blonde girl finally looked at the boy – no, the young man – helping her up.

"Ricken, what in the world were you thinking coming here?!"

'In fact, what in the world was Prince Chrom thinking when he allowed this…?!'

The mage shook his head, the point of his hat flopping about with the movement.

"We can talk about this later," he said as they began to run – or hobble, in Maribelle's case. "We should hurry!"

The pair didn't make it very far before a silky voice cut in, stopping them in their tracks.

"My, my, isn't this sweet?" Aversa said as she easily rose to her feet, the fingers of her right hand sparking with magic. "Your boyfriend came to rescue you, did he? How precious of him to attempt to do so."

She smirked at the two teens. "This isn't the place for you, though, little boy," she continued, her sweet voiced laced with venom. "Perhaps you should just go back to the playground before you get hurt…"

Ricken grit his teeth as he swung around. "Don't talk down to me, you witch!" he cried out as his arm lashed out, runes forming around him.

Maribelle's eyes widened as Aversa's smirk turned predatory, and she quickly turned to face her friend and fellow Shepherd.

"Ricken, don't!"

She was too late, as the boy had already released his spell, sending a gust of verdant green blades of wind at the Plegian seductress.

Aversa chuckled darkly as she flicked her wrist, runes instantly flaring to life around her before forming a magic circle right in front of her outstretched arm.

"Arcfire."

The words were spoken simply, but the dread and all-too-real fear Maribelle felt was embodied in the jet of angry flames that shot out from Aversa's magic circle and smashed directly through Ricken's wind spell unimpeded before continuing on its way towards the two teens.

Maribelle's perception of time slowed down as the searing hot flames approached. She had no time to even react to Ricken crying her name out as he turned and embraced her, using his body as a shield that he hoped would somehow protect her from the oncoming spell.

She shut her eyes as the flames approached, unconsciously squeezing Ricken as if the gesture would help give both of them some semblance of comfort in their final moments.

The stream of fire was upon them… and then on either side of them, the wave of heat passing the two teens by on the left and the right.

'W-what?' "What?!"

Maribelle's eyes shot open at Aversa's shocked gasp, the Plegian woman having unknowingly echoed her own thoughts.

Ricken, too, seemed to realize that things hadn't gone as they should have. He slowly released Maribelle and turned, allowing the girl to see just what exactly had her former captor so surprised.

What the blonde noblewoman saw gave her pause, and idly she wondered just what other surprises today might have in store for her.

Standing before the two Shepherds with his back to them was a regal blue-haired knight clad in a long, white coat-like tunic lined with gold trimming. Maribelle would have thought the coat fitting garments for a member of the nobility or even a priest were it not for the various signs of disrepair and repair that were clear indicators it had seen both worse and better days. Beautifully crafted silver-white armor delicately lined with intricate gold trim that matched the knight's tunic – and Maribelle could swear his armor looked almost as ceremonial as his tunic were it not for the similar signs of scars and repairs marring the silver plates – protected his torso, shoulders, forearms, and lower legs. Completing the knight's ensemble was a semi-transparent turquoise scarf wrapped around his shoulders – the Seal of House Ylisse clearly embroidered into the longer tail that fell to his thighs – and a pair of dark leather belts looping around his waist and over his left shoulder, the latter of which held a long silver sheath decorated with gold and inscribed with prayer runes.

By and far his most striking feature, however, was his long cerulean hair. His hair was – inappropriately by noble standards – messily arranged into some semblance of order, almost as if their owner had not a care in the world for his appearance. His long hair that Maribelle imagined would have normally cascaded down his back was drawn into a ponytail that dropped even further down the length of his body than his scarf, almost approaching his knees.

As she gazed at the mysterious knight, Maribelle couldn't help but wonder who this unfamiliar newcomer was considering his stance, poise, and attire all pointed towards him being of noble blood and high-class upbringing.

"Who are you…?" she ventured carefully, not wanting to risk the ire of someone so unknown. Their situation was precarious enough as is.

The blue-haired knight turned halfway to meet her gaze, revealing sharp, crystalline blue eyes – the right of which was partially obscured by long locks of hair – a jewelled earring hanging on his left ear, and the weapon held in his left hand: a beautiful, ornate longsword just under two meters in length.

Its blade was made of pure silver that shone brightly as it reflected the light of the midday sun, almost appearing as if it had absorbed the daylight's golden coloration. Its gold and white handle and hand-guard were decorated with deep azure lining, making it almost appear more a work of art than a weapon of war.

Maribelle noted the engraved runes running along half the blade's length, recognizing them as the ancient scripts that were mainly used in magic spells and other arcane arts, and wondered if it wasn't an enchanted weapon given the fact that it had apparently split apart an oncoming stream of fire.

"… An ally," he finally replied, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle given the cold, almost emotionless expression etched on his features.

As he turned his attention back to Aversa, a single thought etched itself in Maribelle's mind.

Never had she seen a pair of eyes so sad and so broken as the pair she'd seen just now.

---

The knight narrowed his eyes as the Plegian mage – Aversa, he reminded himself – regained her bearings, her shocked expression giving way to a displeased scowl at having been robbed of her kills.

An image flashed through his mind – that of an equally sultry Plegian sorceress dressed in even more scandalous attire, with medium-length dark blue-violet hair, otherworldly golden eyes, and a demonic smirk.

His lips curved downwards into a minute frown as he tried to quell the dark emotions welling up within him at the mere thought of the demon of his nightmares.

'… This person's not her… Don't let your emotions play tricks upon your mind…'

He resisted the urge to shake his head as he refocused himself back on the present. Now wasn't the time to be getting caught up in unnecessary thoughts.

"Who are you?" the Plegian mage growled darkly.

The knight allowed his earlier frown to twist into an equally muted smile.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied vaguely, watching from the corner of his eye as Plegian troops began to charge down from the pathway behind Aversa that led towards the mountain fort.

"Lady Aversa!" "Lady General!"

Aversa's scowl morphed into an absolutely venomous smirk as the cries of her newly arrived reinforcements reached her and the troops entered her field of vision.

"Well, isn't this the interesting little development," she crowed as the Plegian troops began to encircle the three Ylisseans. "If you beg for mercy, I may still be inclined to give it…"

He shrugged lightly in response to her statement, knowing his noncommittal response would further infuriate the Plegian woman, before he turned ever so slightly to gaze over his left shoulder at the two Shepherds standing behind him.

"You should go. Now," he said quietly, his words surprising the two teens. "I will give you the time you need to meet up with your companions."

Maribelle frowned. "And what of you?" she asked. "Do you truly expect us to leave you here?"

The knight shook his head, sending his ponytail swaying with the motion.

"I should not be your concern," he replied. "I have dealt with situations far worse than this."

Maribelle looked ready to debate the issue, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her short. The knight watched as she turned to the hand's owner, finding Ricken looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding that told the entire story: the young mage knew of the heart that hid behind her scathing outward personality. He knew she refused to seemingly leave a man to die.

Ricken knew they could not offer him much as they were now, and he knew Maribelle was trying so very hard not to accept that reality.

'Ah… so perhaps is this where their connection starts…?' the knight thought to himself. 'Hmm…'

"… Maribelle… come on," Ricken finally said, glancing at the knight meaningfully. "He's right. We should go before it's too late."

Maribelle hesitated, still clearly torn. Her eyes shot back to the knight who stood protectively before them.

"I…"

The knight simply gave the blonde noblewoman a grave nod, the girl's burgundy eyes widening in surprise before she returned the gesture.

"… Thank you," she said, bowing at the waist as an expression of her gratitude. "We owe you our lives."

The knight almost smiled at the girl's sincerity.

"Save your thanks for when our paths cross again," he replied. "I'm certain that this will not be our last meeting."

He only watched Maribelle and Ricken for a brief moment, long enough for the girl to nod at him – this time more firmly – before the pair turned and fled the scene.

With their escape secured, the knight turned his full attention back to Aversa, the Plegian mage having watched the entire exchange with interest.

"How brave of you," Aversa commented as her troops began to inch forward and surround their seeming quarry. "But your sacrifice is meaningless. My soldiers have these Ylisseans hopelessly outnumbered. The brats will be dead long before they can reach their comrades."

She smirked, licking her lips as she did so. ""You've nowhere to run, and the same can be said of them. So… knowing that, would you still offer up your life for theirs?"

"Of course not," the knight replied tersely, his clipped response surprising Aversa with its calm, matter-of-fact nature.

He fell back into a combat stance, twisting his body and allowing his right side to lead as his left foot slid back by half a pace. He raised his longsword, holding it up and back in a high one-handed grip, blade angled up just slightly in a high guard that could easily transition into a variety of movements depending on which of the Plegian soldiers surrounding him moved first.

His eyes were hard and focused as he raised his voice in challenge.

"I offer yours!"

---

Having managed to temporarily disengage from direct combat, Robin allowed himself a moment to take a few steps back and fully examine the battle as it ebbed and flowed around him.

Their defensive line was still holding – 'For now,' he thought as his Elthunder caught an approaching myrmidon right in the chest before the Plegian could even threaten Chrom's flank – and that in itself was already a good thing given the numbers disadvantage they were facing.

Just about the only other good thing right now was the fact that Virion and Miriel had proved very capable in their anti-air duties, their arrows and magic striking down enough wyvern riders to allow Sumia to resume her own aerial duties. The Shepherds' resident flier was now engaged with the last of the wyvern riders, who for some reason Robin seemed to recognize as the commander of the Plegian units, in an aerial duel.

Not having Sumia's aerial support was a bit of a blow, but keeping the enemy commander from assaulting the rest of the Shepherds in exchange was a trade Robin would take any day.

'Thank Naga we have Duke Marcus here to shore up our numbers, though…' he thought, turning his attention to the Duke, who was fighting off two swordsmen at once. Another lay dead at his feet, the puncture wound on the corpse's chest and the splash of blood on the Duke's spear letting Robin know exactly what had transpired

The tactician watched with fascination as Duke Themis outmaneuvered his opponents with his footwork and quick, economical movements. A threatening jab with his spear forced one swordsman back, while the following sweep caught the second swordsman in the ribs with the steel shaft before the Plegian could strike at his back. The sweep was continued into a full circle, allowing the Duke to bring his weapon back into place and deflect a strike from the first swordsman.

'He's using the advantages offered by his weapon's greater reach and his experience to curb the enemy's numbers advantage.'

Robin had been so entranced with observing the nobleman's fighting that he almost didn't realize his senses were screaming at him.

Heeding their warning, Robin quickly ducked into a crouch, his eyes barely registering an axe passing through where his neck would have been before he quickly spurred himself into motion once again. The tactician spun on his right foot and twisted his body around his assailant, placing his crackling hand left hand against the man's shoulder and discharging a Thunder spell directly into his body.

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, Robin watching him twitch on the ground for a few moments before growing still.

'Okay, head back in the game,' he admonished himself as he returned his tome to its pouch within his coat and drew his sword from its sheath.

He'd been about to dive back into the fray, but that had been the moment when he spied the developing situation up on the rise with Aversa, Ricken, and Maribelle. His eyebrow rose as he eyed the newcomer with interest, taking note of the similarities in both appearance and bearing with Lucina.

'I wonder… is he aligned with Lucina? Related to her, even…?' the tactician asked himself. 'That hair color seems a dead giveaway, if I'll be perfectly honest…'

He watched as Maribelle and Ricken made a break for it, and he resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he realized everyone just might be able to make it out alive and well.

A few short moments later, however, his eyes widened in alarm as more fighting erupted on the rise – this time between Aversa's troops and the two Shepherds' mysterious new benefactor.

'Oh. Shit. He needs help up there.'

Robin quickly began moving forward, opening his mouth to begin shouting new orders.

The words died before they even had the chance to leave his throat as a Plegian axe fighter was sent flying off the edge of the ridge before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground just a few meters in front of Robin.

Robin watched, slack-jawed, as the mysterious blue-haired knight somehow engaged a dozen Plegians all at once.

The knight lashed out with his longsword, using the strength of his entire body and his weapon's superior weight to swat aside a myrmidon as if he and his smaller Plegian-made weapon were nothing more than an annoying insect.

'A weapon that size, yet only using one hand…? Ridiculous.'

Flicking his wrist to bring his blade around, the knight continued the motion into a solid parry before snapping the blade up to break the deadlock. A follow-up jab with his sword's pommel that caught the second swordsman square in the temple, the blow stunning the Plegian soldier long enough for the knight to pull back a few paces and swing his sword with impossible speed, cutting through air and delivering a light, but damaging cut to the stunned man's right arm. The momentum from the knight's backswing was again carried, this time into a wide overhead arc that caught three separate weapons and redirected their trajectories before they could even strike at him while his back was turned away from his other adversaries.

That gave the tactician pause. 'Okay…. Maybe he doesn't actually need help, after all…'

"Sir Robin! Sir Robin!"

The tactician turned at the sound of Ricken's cries, noticing the two Shepherds running – hobbling, in Maribelle's case – towards him, and by extension the main battle, as quickly as they could. She nearly tripped over her own feet, but Ricken managed to catch her before she hit the dirt before slinging an arm beneath her legs and lifting her into a bridal carry.

"Ricken! This way!" he called out as the mage continued running even while carrying Maribelle the rest of the way, the adrenaline flowing through his veins fuelling the young boy to push far beyond what his physical limits would normally have allowed.

"Ricken?!" Robin heard Chrom yell in surprise.

The tactician turned in the direction of Chrom's voice in time to see the prince push against his opponent's sword, breaking their deadlock before striking down the swordsman he'd been squaring off against with a powerful two-handed blow. Without an enemy to occupy his attention, the prince turned to glare heatedly at the tactician.

"Robin! What the blazes is he doing here?!"

Said named tactician raised his hand, crackling with electricity, and fired off an Elthunder that arced around a surprised-looking Chrom before striking down a Plegian axe fighter that had been angling to get a hit on the Prince of Ylisse while he had his back turned.

"Later!" Robin shot back as he noticed several Plegian soldiers turning their attention towards the two defenceless Ylisseans fleeing in their direction. "We have better things to worry about right now!"

The tactician cracked his tome open on a different page and surged forward, already charging mana.

"Form up! All frontline units, open up a path for Ricken and Maribelle! Keep the enemy troops off of them!" he yelled as he created as many basic Fire spells as he could control before scattering them all around Ricken and Maribelle. "Virion and Miriel, provide covering fire!"

Chrom, Duke Themis, and Vaike were already in motion as Robin's fireballs blanketed the area around the two Shepherds with small explosions that blasted apart the earth and sent dirt and debris flying into the air. The trio of melee fighters pounced on the distracted Plegians, managing to tie up four of the Plegians. Two more were felled by Virion and Miriel's projectile attacks, arrow and fireball striking true upon their targets.

Robin eyed the last remaining Plegian still charging Ricken and Maribelle, but before he could even begin to prepare another spell, the man dropped dead right before his very eyes. The tactician stared for a moment, before shaking his head and taking a closer look at the scene.

'Damn it,' he thought as he finally noticed the presence of the Shepherds' largest member. 'I really should try to remember Kellam's still around…'

He shook his head to banish the thoughts from his mind as Ricken and Maribelle finally made it past the front lines to where the tactician was standing.

"Good job, Ricken," Robin said, taking off the young mage's hat to ruffle his hair before gently placing the hat back on his head. "You did well – better than I ever could have hoped for, in fact."

The rust-haired boy grinned widely, clearly pleased by the praise.

Robin gave Ricken a smile, before turning to the blonde noblewoman in the mage's arms.

"I'm glad you're safe, Maribelle," he said, the injured girl gazing at him with a shocked expression. "I know you're not especially fond of me, but it's a relief all the same to see you back safely."

Maribelle looked at him with a marked expression of surprise, unable to really formulate words for the time being.

Robin turned back to the battle going on behind Ricken just in time to see Sumia's spear strike true and pierce the Plegian commander's chestplate, the man falling from his steed to the ground below just as Virion's arrows sliced through the wyvern's wing membranes and sent the beast following after its dead master.

He nodded in satisfaction as the remaining enemy troops began to retreat. "Good… looks like things are winding down here…" he murmured, before turning his attention back to the pair.

"Take Maribelle to Lissa," he instructed, the boy bobbing his head in acknowledgement. "Have her patch up what she can while we have time and then take a break. We'll need to make a quick retreat once everyone's ready to move out, so you'd best save your strength while you have the chance."

The mage nodded again, and Robin gave a light wave in response as they parted ways. He made his way up towards Chrom, the prince simply gazing up at the rise where Gangrel and Aversa had been earlier.

"Looks like we've won… for now," he offered as he stepped up to the other man.

Chrom nodded distantly. "Yeah…"

Robin frowned. This wasn't normal behavior.

"By the way, can you handle things by yourself for a bit?" he asked. "Just start on our preparations to withdraw."

Chrom's blue eyes continued to stare off into the distance. "Mm?" he mumbled.

'Man, what's gotten into you, Chrom?'

"I just need to see if Maribelle and Ricken's mysterious helper is still around," Robin said. "He reminds me just a little bit too much of Marth for this to wholly be a coincidence."

Chrom nodded again. "Right…" he murmured. "We can handle ourselves. Go do what you need to do."

Robin furrowed his eyebrows. "Chrom…" he said. "Are you sure you're alright?"

The prince gave a nod, though the tactician couldn't be quite sure he'd even heard his question.

'Well, I'm sure he'll open it up when he needs to,' he thought with a helpless shrug.

"I'll be off, then. I won't be too long," Robin said as he turned and began walking up the mountain path.

He hadn't even taken his fifth step when Chrom suddenly called out after him.

"Robin?" Chrom said, making Robin turn to regard the prince once more.

"… Be careful."

The tactician nodded before he took off, heading up the mountain path towards where he'd last seen the blue-haired knight.

---

The knight drew his longsword back with a sharp flourish, the motion flicking off the last vestiges of blood that still stained the blade's surface.

All around the landing lay the bloodied bodies of his Plegian attackers, their discarded weapons littering the ground where they had fallen or been taken from their owners' hands. The few that still remained standing had wisely chosen to back away, their fear and disbelief palpable even from where the knight stood.

"H-he's not human!" an axe fighter exclaimed.

Aversa growled. "Stand your ground, all of you! Don't panic!" she demanded. "I will personally end the first man to turn his back on the enemy!"

"W-we can't fight against him!" a swordsman stammered. "Run! Ruuuuuun!"

"Dog's breath!" Aversa cursed as she beheld the unbelievable scene before her – Plegian troops fleeing before a lone enemy! "Worthless cowards, the lot of you!"

The knight simply watched silently, choosing to simply wait. The more he could draw this out, the better it would be for the Shepherds, after all.

Aversa clenched her teeth. "… Their fears are not without merit, however…" she continued. "Who are you, boy? You look like any other noble-born brat with delusions of grandeur, but you fight like anything but a sheltered blueblood!"

The knight allowed a tiny smirk to cross his lips. "Oh? What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you intend to surrender? How did it go? Ah… 'If you beg for mercy, I may still be inclined to give it'?"

Aversa scowled as she raised a hand, mana beginning to crackle at her fingertips.

"And admit defeat? Me?! Don't be absurd…!"

The knight's grip on his longsword tightened as he took a half-step back, preparing for whatever spells the Plegian mage might be preparing to use against him.

Runes began to form around Aversa, but, before either the Plegian mage or the knight could react, a shadowy portal formed in the empty air between the two.

The knight's eyes widened as he beheld the magic gateway that pulsed with dark energies before him.

'This is… this is the same as…!'

Out of the portal stepped a hooded figure. Her knee-length dark purple coat – and the body shape was decidedly that of a young woman, the knight thought – fluttered with the wind and her motions. A sash around the hooded figure's waist suspended a sheathed sword within its coils in addition to holding their coat closed. The coat's short sleeves and general design still left it open enough to expose the gold-trimmed, black long-sleeved tunic beneath it, as well as the hooded figure's beige trousers and dark leather combat boots and combat gloves.

'She's… no, she's not her…'

The hooded figure glanced at the knight for a brief moment, giving him a glimpse of eerily familiar golden eyes, before she turned to face the white-haired Plegian.

"Withdraw, General Aversa…" she said coolly, her flat tone of voice so controlled it sounded almost unnatural.

Aversa scowled. "You…"

"Worry not about your king's wrath. There is nothing to fear," the hooded figure continued, almost patronizing in her admonishment of the Plegian mage. "I will explain everything to him. Take your men and retreat. Any more casualties will be deemed unacceptable."

The Plegian mage growled, glaring daggers at someone who the knight understood was at the very least her equal if not her superior in the Plegian hierarchy, before capitulating and giving a grudging nod of acceptance of her orders.

The knight watched as Aversa raised two fingers to her lips and let loose with a shrill whistle that sounded out over the mountain pass.

'A signal…?' he thought as he glanced left, and then right, looking for any surprises the Plegian mage might have kept in store and signalled with that whistle.

However, the knight didn't quite see anything so much as he heard something – the sound of flapping wings being carried across the wind currents. The odd sound prompted the knight to risk taking his eyes off of the two Plegians for a brief moment in order to glance upwards at where he assumed the source was.

There, in the skies, was the origin of the sounds: a pitch-black pegasus gliding down directly toward them, its armor and trappings identifying it as belonging to someone of very high stature within the Plegian army.

'Ah… I see now…' he thought, lowering his weapon and straightening his stance as the winged horse touched down next to Aversa. 'So she's not actually a mage. She's a dark flier… that explains quite a fair amount.'

Aversa swung up onto the saddle with practiced ease and directed a glare at the knight, who simply met the Plegian's gaze evenly.

"Consider yourself lucky, boy," she spat before she spurred her uniquely-colored pegasus into motion, the winged steed carrying its master into the skies and away from the battlefield.

The knight watched for a moment as the Plegian dark flier disappeared into the skies before realizing the hooded figure was still present and silently watching. He turned his attention to the silent figure and narrowed his deep cobalt eyes, matching her cold golden-eyed gaze with his own.

"… I don't suppose you're looking for a fight yourself?" he ventured.

The hooded figure chose to stare at the knight for a moment longer, prompting him to tense ever so slightly.

However, the silent woman simply turned away and opened another dark portal before stepping through it.

The knight remained rooted in his position long after the hooded figure and her portal had disappeared, still unable to get the image of her eyes out of his mind.

'Those eyes… they look far too much like hers…' he thought with a grimace. 'But this person… she's not her. She's not the one who…'

He forced himself to relax, trying to release the death grip he had on his longsword.

'No, don't think about that for now.'

He sighed, wondering why he was getting so worked up over nothing. After a few moments, he let out another sigh to try and bleed off some of his tension before he returned his attention to his surroundings.

After a final check, the knight was finally certain that all the Plegians had left the area and weren't actually preparing some sort of duplicitous tactic that might catch him off-guard. Now armed with the knowledge that it was safe to relax, he allowed himself to at least partially drop his guard as he returned his longsword to its normal resting place within the sheath hanging behind his left shoulder.

"I've done all I can here…" he murmured. "I need to get a move on and make up for the lost time…"

The knight turned, intending to start walking once more, but a voice called out to him before he'd even made it ten steps far.

"Wait!"

The knight stopped and turned in the voice's direction, keeping the surprise he felt from his features.

Standing a short distance behind him, just at the edge of the rise he'd been fighting on, was a familiar white-haired young man dressed in an equally familiar dark purple coat and beige shirt and trousers.

'Now, what might you want with me…?' the knight thought curiously as he beheld a familiar figure he hadn't expected to encounter quite so soon upon his return.

'… Sir Tactician…'