Author's Note: Well, this chapter took a while, as per bloody usual. Apologies, but Fate/Grand Order is hell in game form. For those of you who play it, you might understand the suffering I go through.
All things considered, though, this chapter turned out pretty nicely even if I actually detest all this exposition. I sincerely hope you all enjoy it, though!
As is my norm, big thank yous all around to those who read, review, and support me and this story in spite of my rather sporadic update schedules. I sincerely hope you'll all stick around for what's to come, because everything so far has really only been the tip of a massive iceberg of a story concept and Alternate Universe.
Also as per 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.
We've got lots of original content this time around, as well, so I hope you all enjoy the world and character building present as I lay the stepping stones towards changing the world of Awakening! Naga be with you all!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.
Chapter Eight – Retreat
Location: Plegia-Ylisse Border
Robin almost took a step back when the mysterious knight turned to face him.
The knight's youthful features – and they were youthful enough that Robin couldn't believe just how young the knight probably was – were possessed of a delicacy that wasn't completely down to his tender years, giving him a soft appearance that would have been almost feminine were it not tempered by the sort of hard expression that could only really come from having undergone harsh experiences that Robin could only begin to imagine.
However, while the contrast between the knight's tender age and hardened expression was rather jarring, that wasn't quite the aspect of his physical features that had caught Robin's attention the most.
'There's… there's no way…'
What did was the fact that the knight resembled another rather mysterious newcomer Robin had met not too long ago, and the resemblance between the two was far too uncanny for it to be any mere coincidence.
'He… looks almost like Lucina…'
Aside from that touch of masculinity that differentiated the knight standing before him from Lucina, the two could have been almost copies of each other. Almost everything, from their hair color to the shape of the chin and even the slope of the eyebrows was a near perfect match.
However, what Robin saw in the knight's eyes – or rather, his one fully visible left eye and his partially obscured right eye – couldn't be any more different from what he'd seen in Lucina's. The tactician had to suppress a shiver as his hazel locked with the knight's cobalt, and it took all of his willpower to keep himself from getting sucked into the storm of barely supressed emotions that was swirling within the knight's dark sapphire irises.
'They're so alike… alike, yet so different…' Robin thought grimly, recalling the pain, the fear, and the anxiety he'd seen in Lucina's eyes that night when he'd hoped to speak to the girl and inadvertently stumbled upon her at a time when she was without her mask.
As for this knight standing before him now, the pain was clearly there – a raw, deep pain that seemed to radiate from the very core of his being – reminding Robin far too much of Lucina's own haunted expression.
However, that was as far as the similarities went.
'There's so much sorrow… so much anger… so much guilt… why do people as young as them have these kinds of eyes…?'
Robin swallowed thickly against the lump within his throat, just managing to keep himself from being suffocated by the intensity of the emotions emanating from the knight's even gaze. Seeing all those raw emotions reflected so clearly within the knight's eyes left him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He tried not to imagine what either of the two teens – and there was nothing suggesting they were anything but teens – must have gone through for their eyes to reflect what they did.
"How may I help you, Sir Tactician…?" the knight suddenly said, his soft voice bringing the tactician from his thoughts and back to the present.
Robin blinked and then shook his head, almost as if he were trying to shake off the hold that the chilling image of the knight's eyes had on him.
"Oh, uh…" he said unintelligibly. "Well, I…"
The corners of the knight's lips curved up ever so lightly in the most subdued smile Robin had ever seen, a tiny bit of amusement twinkling in his eyes doing much to dissipate the intense emotions still roiling within the one visible iris not hidden behind his hair.
"Feel free to sort your thoughts out," the knight said softly, his smile growing just a tiny bit when Robin flushed in embarrassment. "However, you'd best make it quick. I can humor you for a moment, but neither of us have time to spare lingering about here for too long."
Robin shook his head and frowned. "N-no, that's…" he stammered, before he paused in his flustered floundering as the knight's words registered fully in his mind.
"… Wait," the tactician said, mind suddenly clear as he had something to focus upon. "What do you mean when you say neither of us have much time?"
The knight's own expression darkened. "I mean it exactly as I said it," he replied. "You need to get away from here quickly and return to Ylisstol as soon as you are able."
Robin's eyebrows furrowed. "Why Ylisstol? We're not that far out from Themis, and even damaged we can still use it as a base."
The knight shook his head, sending his ponytail swaying with the motion.
"You don't understand," he replied quietly.
Robin crossed his arms over his chest. "Make me understand, then."
The knight frowned at Robin's seeming obstinacy – and, really, if he were in the knight's place Robin might have been more than a little aggravated as well – before sighing softly.
"The Mad King will be mobilizing again very soon," he replied. "You can be assured that this time there won't be any sort of duplicity on his part. He's just going to march across the border with all of Plegia's military might behind him. Even if you sent word back to Ylisstol as soon as possible… the Ylissean Army wouldn't arrive in time before Themis fell before the might of a full-scale Plegian invasion."
Robin gasped. "An invasion so soon…?" he whispered. "Are you certain?"
The knight nodded. "Yes. I have it on good authority that the Plegian Army will be moving as early as before daybreak tomorrow."
'Damn it… that's not nearly enough time for us to return to Themis and prepare adequate defenses… not when the city's sustained as much damage as it has.'
Robin grimaced. "So you're saying we have to evacuate the civilians and abandon the city…?"
"It's a harsh decision to have to make for so many people, I know," the knight acknowledged solemnly. "You may not like it, but you must see sense, Sir Tactician. Lost territory can be regained, and destroyed homes can be rebuilt. Innocent lives, however…"
The knight left the conclusion to his statement hanging wordlessly. He didn't need to say it, and he knew Robin understood his implications.
He let out a small sigh. "Innocent lives aside, this isn't the time or place for you to fight," he continued. "No leader in their right mind should needlessly throw lives away in a meaningless struggle that will only lead their own country down the road of destruction."
Robin grit his teeth at the indirect admonishment. "… I understand that," he reluctantly murmured. "I understand what you're saying, but…!"
'But, I can't just accept that…!' he thought in equal parts defiance and desperation. 'Surely there's something that I can use to let us stem the tide! There has to be a way for us to win, there has to be…!'
The tactician went through everything that he knew and could try to apply to his tactics: the local terrain around Themis, the composition of the company that accompanied the Shepherds and even the surviving soldiers from Themis…
'Come on, come on… there has to be something!'
The tactician tried to think of just about any strategy, hoping against hope that there was something – anything – that he could use as an alternative to simply abandoning the city. His expression fell progressively as idea after idea was considered and subsequently discarded.
'There… has to be…'
The tactician dropped his head and balled his hands into tight fists as he came to the realization that, no matter how desperately he grasped at any possibilities he could try to make use of, nothing would have given him a particularly good outcome.
"Is there… really nothing we can do…?" he whispered, admitting defeat and, with it, his own fallibility.
Unseen by the tactician, the knight gave him a look of what almost seemed to be sympathy.
"There may be nothing else you can do," he said, his voice soft. "But do not mistake that for not being able to do anything at all."
Robin looked up. "That almost sounds like you're talking from experience…"
The knight's lips quirked upwards into a slight smile, his expression laced with the now-familiar self-depreciation and bitterness that he never seemed to shake off.
'There it is again…' Robin thought. 'What might be going through his mind, I wonder…?
"Quite right," the knight agreed honestly, the bitterness in his smile translating into a tight voice. "I've had this sort of dilemma present itself to me quite a few times… more times than I'd have wanted."
'Ah… touched a nerve, have I…?' the tactician wondered, deciding to file away that little morsel for the future. 'Really, though, what happened to you?'
The knight sighed. "But that is all in my past, and not important to the current situation facing us right now."
Robin's lips twisted into a slight frown. 'Of course you'll say you aren't so you can deflect any questions I may have about you.'
That said, he knew when trying to get any more information out of someone was a lost cause.
The tactician let out a little sigh, knowing he shouldn't push his luck too far. For now, it was better that he allow the knight to lead the conversation.
"So… what is important, then?" he asked. "Is it the safety and well-being of the Exalt? If it is, you've said enough to make that point abundantly clear."
The knight nodded gravely. "Indeed. But not just the Exalt's…" he replied. "Do not forget the safety of the people she wishes to protect. Sacrificing a thousand to save one should never be an option."
He turned away from the tactician. "I must be going now," he said softly. "Just remember what I have told you today, Sir Tactician. The Exalt is our one shining beacon of hope in these dark times, and to lose her would potentially set us down a very dark path."
Robin watched as the cerulean-haired white knight began to walk away without even letting the tactician get any final words in. His stride was steady as he made his way towards one of the many different mountain paths leading away from the rise they'd been standing on.
The tactician would have been content letting him go… but a thought occurred to him as he remembered something curious in the knight's words.
'Wait… Sir Tactician…?'
The tactician furrowed his brows. He definitely hadn't imagined being called that.
"Hold on a moment," he called out.
The knight stopped and turned to face him once more, head tilted in a wordless question.
"Just now… you called me 'Sir Tactician'," Robin remarked curiously. "… How did you know I'm a tactician?"
The knight blinked once, slowly, before his lips quirked up ever so slightly.
"Ah… I see," the young blue-haired knight commented lightly. "You're suspicious of me, are you not?"
Robin's jaw shot open at the accusation. "Now hold on, that's not–!" he squawked.
"Worry not, Sir, your concern is understandable," he said easily, cutting off the tactician's protest with an airy, almost dismissive wave of the hand. "It's actually not a difficult conclusion to come to. Your orders carry quite far, I'll have you know. Consider that the Prince of Ylisse and the Duke of Themis were both present on the field this day. It would have been only natural to assume that either of the two would have taken command. Wouldn't you agree?"
'I have to admit, he's got me there…'
"However, they didn't," he continued. "Now, why is that? The most plausible reason they wouldn't be issuing orders directly would be because they – the prince, most likely, given his track record – might have delegated command authority to someone else… and it wouldn't take a genius to work out that that someone was the man whose voice carried above the din of combat as he shouted instructions."
'Ah. That's… actually a good point.'
Robin cupped his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll give you that," he said, fixing his gaze upon the knight's own. "But I still have to ask: how can I be sure I can trust you?"
The knight hesitated for a moment, looking away with an almost pained expression, and Robin almost felt as if he'd actually crossed a line he shouldn't have.
"You can't…" the knight whispered brokenly. "I have nothing that I can offer as proof of my claims or my goodwill… I have no believable reason I can give as to why you should trust me…"
He looked back up at Robin, and the tactician was taken aback by the fire burning in his eyes – those very same dark sapphire eyes that only minutes ago had been clouded with an almost all-consuming sorrow and guilt.
"But I must ask that you do," he continued, his voice still barely above a whisper. "Please, place your trust in me… and in the belief that I would not lead you astray."
Robin could only stare at the young knight, surprised at the total change in his demeanor. His words had not been spoken in the same hollow and broken voice he'd heard just seconds earlier.
No, his voice had been filled with a quiet strength and determination that mirrored the resolute gaze in his eyes, and that made coming up with a response to the knight's plea more difficult.
For better or worse, however, Robin was just as quickly saved from that particular problem by its origin, as the knight's expression lost much of its prior intensity.
"I truly must leave now," he said as he turned away. "You don't have to answer me straight away, and I promise that I will explain things to you the next time our paths cross. I wish you good fortunes until then."
The cerulean-haired knight made to depart, and this time Robin did not stop him from leaving as he began to walk away once more.
As much as he wanted to know more, Robin had to content himself with what he'd already learned today. He simply watched the knight disappear into the mountain range, the young teen heading for destinations unknown much like Lucina – in her guise as Marth – had done back when they'd met in that forest.
Robin, however, remained rooted to his spot long after the knight had left, his thoughts clearly elsewhere as he contemplated the knight's parting words to him.
"Please, place your trust in me… and in the belief that I would not lead you astray."
Robin couldn't help but frown as he wondered how he was supposed to reply to that. The words repeated themselves in the tactician's head over and over, even after he had taken his own leave of the rise and was already on his way back down to rejoin the Shepherds.
Logic would dictate the response was extremely simple: don't trust someone you know nothing about. Tactician training would dictate that you didn't trust anything from someone you weren't familiar with.
Robin had already defied all of that once before, hadn't he? He'd already extended his trust to Lucina without question, just as she had with him.
His gut instinct – probably the most important vote when it came to making decisions – told him that the knight was worth trusting. He'd saved Maribelle and Ricken without question, and Robin had reason to suspect he was even aligned with – maybe even related to – Lucina somehow.
Surely he could do the same here… couldn't he?
Robin took a bit longer than he normally might have getting back down to the Shepherds, distracted as he was by his own thoughts.
He absently wondered if they would have actually left him behind had he not been punctual in his return, but the sight of the Shepherds milling about at the foot of the pass – along with a squad of Ylissean pegasus knights, curiously enough – put paid to those thoughts.
'Well, that's a welcome sight…' he thought to himself, noting with mild interest and offhand satisfaction the knights who remained airborne. 'Everyone's still here, and we've got friendly company. I'll take that as a sign that Emmeryn made it back safely.'
He could only hope that was what their presence meant, at least.
"Chrom!" he called out to the blue-haired prince as he approached, hand raised in greeting. "I'm sorry I'm late."
The prince looked up from where he'd been seated on a squat boulder before jumping to his feet, his face lighting up in a smile.
"Nonsense, my friend," he said as he moved to clasp Robin's hand with his own. "If you were late, we'd have at least tried looking for you by now."
Robin grinned. "That's a good thought to have," he remarked, before indicating the pegasus knights with his head. "Emmeryn made it back alright, I assume?"
"Yes, and Phila sent us two squads to serve as an armed escort, as well," Chrom confirmed. "I sent Duke Themis, Lissa, Maribelle, Miriel, and Ricken back ahead with one squad. The rest decided to stick with me and wait for your return."
The tactician nodded. "I see…"
'They chose to wait? But, that's…'
"… That's… that's good news," he managed to get out after a moment of pause, unable to fully cover his surprised stammer. "I'm… surprised you all chose to wait, though."
Chrom chuckled. "We're Shepherds, Robin," he replied. "And we leave no man – or woman – behind."
'That's all well and good, Chrom, but… what if it comes to war and you have to sacrifice someone? What then?'
Robin gave a minute shake of the head, hoping against hope that Chrom merely took it as one of exasperation rather than anything else.
"Well, I'm here now, so you won't have to be leaving anyone behind," he said, giving a small chuckle.
Chrom nodded. "Indeed," he replied, before his expression grew more serious. "So, did you learn anything about our mysterious helper?"
Robin sighed. "Not really, no. He was about as helpful as Marth was in that regard."
The prince raised an eyebrow at that. "You mean offering cryptic warnings and just leaving without answering any questions?"
'I wonder how Lucina would react to that…' Robin thought with an amused smile.
"You know it," he replied, before his smile quickly turned into a frown.
"That said, while I didn't learn much about him, I did learn something," he added. "However, it'll have to wait until we get back to Themis. How long until we can get going?"
Chrom frowned, having noticed the sense of urgency present in the tactician's tone.
"Not too long, but…" he trailed off, before leaning in closer.
"Robin, you're not ever one to be in a hurry," the prince whispered, clear concern lacing his words even as he tried to keep his voice down. "Is there something wrong?"
Robin cut Chrom off with a minute shake of the head.
"Yes, but time is of the essence here, Chrom," he insisted. "I promise I'll fill you in later, but you just have to trust me and get everyone ready to move now."
The prince frowned. "Okay, Robin, what's troubling you?" he asked. "Why are you so insistent we pull out so quickly? Why can't you just tell me?"
'Bloody hell, Chrom, we're all going to die if we don't get back as soon as possible. Besides, if I told you what it was right now, you'd decide on your own to hole up in Themis and make a stand in a place we clearly can't defend.'
"It's something your sister and the Duke would want to hear, as well," Robin replied, his tone a little too terse for his own. "It's better if you all hear it at once."
Chrom's lips mirrored Robin's own in a frown. "Is what you learned from him truly that bad?"
Robin nodded again. "Yeah… if he's right – and I really hope he's not – we're going to be in big trouble."
Chrom regarded him for a moment, his blue eyes searching the tactician's hazel for any indicator as to what he might be thinking.
For his part, Robin simply returned Chrom's gaze evenly, knowing that the prince's decision would likely hinge on what he saw in his own expression.
Finally, seemingly satisfied with what he found, Chrom pulled back and nodded in assent.
"Very well, then," he said, giving a little sigh. "You seem sure enough of yourself, and I have to trust my tactician to make the right calls."
Robin couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. "Thank you, Chrom."
The prince only offered a light shrug before he turned and began calling out orders to move out.
Location: Themis
"Chrom!" Emmeryn called out as she quickly strode up to her brother and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad to see you unharmed…"
Robin watched as Chrom returned his older sister's embrace a little more sedately, but it put a smile on the tactician's face to see the prince still give her a reassuring squeeze as he clearly relished in the comfort of his sister's touch.
Just behind the Exalt, Robin could see Frederick and Phila following in the Exalt's footsteps, both wearing uncharacteristically warm expressions on their faces as they watched the two siblings interact.
'It's not just warmth, though…' the tactician thought. 'There's something else… fondness maybe? '
He almost smiled at the thought.
'Well, I suppose even knights as serious and duty-bound as them would find this scene heartwarming, really… especially if you consider how those two have probably watched over and cared for Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa for years now.'
"I'm sorry, Emm," Chrom said lowly as he released the Exalt and took a step backwards, his expression clearly one of shame and contrition. "I acted rashly, and in doing so I undid all the work you put in towards finding a peaceful resolution."
Emmeryn shook her head and gave Chrom a sad smile. "You did no such thing, Chrom," she replied. "As much as it pains me to admit, there truly was no hope for that sort of outcome. Gangrel played us for fools – played me for a fool. He forced you to make a difficult choice, and you, in turn, chose to protect me. It is he who is at fault for this situation, not you."
"Emm… you're not…"
The Exalt sighed and shook her head in an almost rueful manner.
"Hush now, Chrom," she said. "I have already said that I hold you blameless, so please… do not punish yourself any further."
Chrom made to speak, but whatever words he'd been formulating died on his lips when faced with his sister's pleading expression.
The prince could only nod in acquiescence, prompting a pleased – if somewhat smug and victorious – smile from the Exalt.
'Heh… looks like Chrom really can't say no, can he?' Robin thought. 'Especially not with that look she was giving him.'
The tactician refocused on the scene in front of him as Frederick stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"Milord, Your Grace…" he started, waiting until he'd gained the attention of both royals before continuing. "As much as we would like to give you the time for these personal exchanges, there is much to be done now that Gangrel has declared war upon us. The Mad King will be rallying his forces, if he has not already done so preemptively. We must begin to make preparations as soon as we are able."
Emmeryn nodded. "Of course, Frederick," she agreed with a tone that was one of just slight reluctance. "It seems that war truly is upon us."
'Not surprising, really…' Robin thought. 'Agreeing with Frederick's words here pretty much sealed the deal – as she herself said, we're at war now.'
That being said, this here was his chance to speak up, and inform Chrom and Emmeryn about the knight's cryptic warnings.
However… it brought him back to his original dilemma: could he trust the mysterious knight's words?
"We should head for the war room and begin preparing our strategy," he heard Chrom say. "No doubt the Plegians will be attacking us very soon, and we'd best be ready for when they do."
As the group prepared to make their way back towards the Duke's villa, Robin paused to quickly assess the options available to them given what he'd learned earlier today in the mountain pass.
If the knight was right and they chose to retreat, they would have saved countless lives.
If the knight was wrong and they chose to retreat, then they would have simply lost territory that they could still take back.
If the knight was right and they chose to stay and prepare for the invasion, they'd just get wiped out to the last man.
If the knight was wrong and they chose to stay, they'd clearly have called the bluff and would then have an enormous amount of time to mobilize the Ylissean Army and prepare for engagement.
Robin gave a minute shake of his head as he looked at the possibilities arrayed before him.
'There's almost no choice…! I can't take such a blatant risk!'
As difficult a decision as it was for any tactician to take, Robin knew that risking innocent lives by not heeding a warning given – however cryptic or questionable it was – would be the height of idiocy and completely unforgivable.
"As Chrom said, there's no doubt that the Plegians will be coming," he said as he took a step forward, resisting the urge to grimace or groan as everyone's attention turned back towards him. "However, I have reason to believe that the attack will come even faster than we might realize, and we'll be ill-equipped to deal with it when it does come."
Emmeryn frowned. "What do you mean by that, Tactician Robin?"
Robin bowed lightly. "If Your Grace would allow it, I'd like to discuss what I've learned today – along with possible courses of action – when Duke Themis is around as well. I believe what I have to share with you all is something that he'll very much want and need to hear."
The Exalt's expression grew grave, almost as if she'd understood the implications of Robin's words without him ever even directly hinting at it.
"… Very well," she said simply after a moment's consideration. "Phila?"
The steel-haired falcon knight was at the Exalt's shoulder almost instantly. "Yes, Your Grace."
"Please find Duke Themis and let him know that his presence is required in the war room," Emmeryn said calmly. "I understand he would like to be with his daughter given the ordeals she has had to endure over the past few days, but tell him that this is a matter of grave importance and that we do not have much time to spare."
Phila bowed. "It will be done," she replied.
As her knight left, Emmeryn turned her attention back to the snow-haired tactician and smiled, a now all-too-familiar look in her calm, grey-green eyes.
"I suppose we would best get going, yes?" she suggested easily enough. "It would not do for the Duke to arrive before we do."
Robin tried to keep any reaction from his face as a block of ice solidified in his gut.
Emmeryn was placing her trust in him to guide them – again.
"So, let me get this straight," Chrom commented, a frown creasing his brow. "You're telling me that, even as we speak, Plegia's troops are already preparing to mobilize for an invasion of Ylisse? And that you were told this by that mystery swordsman who showed up and saved Ricken and Maribelle at the pass?"
He and Robin, along with Emmeryn, Frederick, Phila, and Duke Themis, were gathered around the central table in the war room, a map of the Halidom of Ylisse and the border territories of its neighboring countries spread out over the polished wooden top.
Duke Themis cupped his chin in thought. "These are bold claims, lad," he commented. "Were I not there to see the young man myself, I'd have thought you mad and him a figment of your wild imagination."
Frederick shook his head. "The fact even Milord's reaction is incredulous at best is incredibly damaging to Sir Robin's case."
Robin nodded. "I know, even I think I sound crazy," the tactician acknowledged. "However, I also think that the potential risks are too great for us to simply discount his words."
"I would think 'crazy' is quite the understatement," Duke Themis replied, the man offering Robin a wry smile for a moment before growing serious once more. "However, if he's speaking the truth, we definitely won't be able to hold the line here long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Themis is in no condition to withstand a siege."
Chrom looked up at the older man. "Duke Themis…"
Beside the prince, Emmeryn watched as the three men conversed, the corners of her lips curved downwards in a thoughtful frown.
The Duke chuckled mirthlessly. "Themis will be overrun long before the rest of the Ylissean army can even begin to mobilize, Prince. It's not a hard conclusion to come to, given his story. In fact, I'm already quite sure I know why your tactician wanted me to be here."
Confusion crossed Chrom's expression, but the way Emmeryn's eyes had widened ever so slightly was an indication she was – at the very least – beginning to piece together the thoughts that were running through Robin's mind.
"Duke Themis, you can't mean to say that Tactician Robin…" she murmured.
Chrom looked between the Duke and his sister, his expression making it clear he was unable to follow their silent leaps of logic.
"Emm? Duke Themis? What do you mean?" he asked.
The Duke simply inclined his head towards the white-haired tactician standing across from him.
"Well, Prince, if we are reading the situation right – and between Her Grace and myself I don't think we can be that wrong – your tactician here already has a plan of action in mind assuming we choose to trust in his words. In fact, I think he's probably had his plan in mind ever since he asked for me to be here, and the fact that he did ask me to be here before he started talking gives me a very good idea as to what his plan is."
Before Chrom could even ask what he meant with what he said, the Duke fixed Robin with an appraising glare.
"Tell me, Tactician Robin. You'd have us give up the city and retreat back to Ylisstol with my people, wouldn't you?"
Chrom whipped about to face his tactician. "Robin, you'd… have us retreat…? Give up ground – give up Ylissean soil – to Plegia?!"
The prince's voice shook as he spoke – though whether it was from shock or anger the tactician couldn't tell. All he could tell was that the prince's expression was that of someone who felt as if he'd just been betrayed by an ally he'd come to trust.
'I'm sorry, Chrom… but that story you told me from before about other tacticians? … Maybe they were right on some level about you when they said that you didn't – and don't – see the bigger picture…'
Robin straightened, steeling himself and his gaze as he faced the questioning eyes of everyone else at the table, Chrom and Duke Themis most of all.
"… Yes, I would, Sir," he replied evenly after a pause. "My reasoning is actually very simple: Lost territory can be regained. Lost lives cannot. If it means we can save as many lives as we are able, then surely…"
The room was silent for a moment as the others took time to digest the tactician's words, before the Duke let out a bark of laughter that was wholly lacking in any form of humor.
"It pains me to say I cannot find fault in your logic, tactician, however simple it actually is," he remarked grimly, suddenly looking incredibly tired.
The Duke sighed deeply, and to Robin it seemed almost as if the older man had aged ten years.
"However, you will find that Marcus the man cannot so simply agree with you the way Marcus the commander would. Themis is my city, my home. Being told that we will be abandoning the city will not be an easy thing for me or my people to accept."
Robin looked away. "Duke Themis, I… I can understand if you might have any misgivings…"
The Duke raised a hand, cutting the tactician off.
"Stop right there, lad," he said, his tone one of gentle admonishment. "Just humor me for a few minutes."
Robin blinked, unable to keep the surprise from his features. "Duke Themis?"
The older man closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Listen here, and listen well, Tactician Robin. You'd do best to hear this before anything else."
He opened his eyes and locked gazes with the tactician.
"Now is not the time for you to be second guessing yourself."
Robin recoiled at the man's words, unable to hide the surprise at having been so easily seen through by the older man.
Duke Themis smiled wryly.
"You shouldn't be so surprised," he said. "I've been through that phase you're currently going through. It might not be in your face, but it's definitely in your eyes."
Robin swallowed past the rising lump in his throat. He felt more than a little cornered and exposed right now with how the older man was phrasing is words.
"Heh. Don't ever doubt yourself just because you find yourself in a difficult situation with no easy answers, lad," the Duke continued. "A man in a position like yours or mine will need to make difficult decisions like this at some point or another. It's an unavoidable fact."
'… He has me completely figured out.'
Robin could only nod dumbly as Duke Themis systematically exposed his performance anxiety in front of Chrom and Frederick. He'd have been more worried about Emmeryn also being present to hear it, but the knowledge that she most likely already knew about his issues since Ylisstol served to calm him ever so slightly.
That said, he wondered what the Exalt actually thought of his issues, and whether her constant supposed belief in him was only out of respect for her younger brother's wishes or if she wanted to continue to test his mettle and his resolve.
As if on cue, Emmeryn nodded as well, and it surprised Robin when he realized from the light expression on her face that she actually seemed to be agreeing with the Duke's words.
"Duke Themis is right, Tactician Robin," she said gently, her soft voice soothing the tactician's frayed nerves even as she confirmed his own thoughts. "Chrom and I are in agreement when we say that your words and actions have been more than enough proof that you are worthy of our unconditional trust and our faith."
Robin's eyes widened, unable to quite hide the genuine surprise and awe he felt at the Exalt's words.
"Your Grace…"
Emmeryn glanced at him and gave him a minute nod, her lips curving upwards into a reassuring smile as if she knew exactly what he was feeling that very moment.
To Robin, it was almost as if she were silently telling him 'Worry not. We believe in you.'
'Heh… Chrom wasn't kidding when he said Emmeryn was an amazing ruler.'
The Duke cupped a hand to his chin and hummed thoughtfully as he took in the Exalt's words.
"Hmm… I see…" he murmured to himself as he began to stare distantly at nothing.
Nobody moved or spoke while the Duke considered their situation and Robin's plan, although Robin did notice Emmeryn share a meaningful look with Phila, one that he couldn't quite decipher.
If Robin were completely honest, it was incredibly easy to see why the Duke might harbor doubts about his story. The fates of an entire city and its inhabitants were riding on the decisions that were going to be made here in this war room, after all. It wasn't going to be an easy decision to make in the slightest, regardless of who was being asked to make it.
For the man who ruled over the city and people in question, the burden and pressure might almost be untenable.
"A man in a position like yours or mine will need to make difficult decisions like this at some point or another. It's an unavoidable fact."
Robin's eyes widened ever so slightly as the Duke's words echoed in the back of his mind.
'He was speaking from experience… wasn't he…?'
The realization made the Duke's pensive expression begin to make plenty more sense to Robin… although the tactician also privately wondered if the older man was actually thinking of a situation in the past that mirrored what was facing them now in the present.
However, before Robin could even begin to wonder what it was that lay behind the Duke's distant eyes, the older man let out a heavy sigh.
"Alright," he said simply. "I've decided."
Robin tried not to let his nervousness show as the Duke turned to face him, choosing instead to keep
"I… don't think we have many alternatives," he began slowly, almost as if he were still second-guessing himself for a brief moment before pressing on. "Given our situation, trusting in the assumptions made based on your story seems like our best option."
Robin could only incline his head. "I know that I'm asking a lot when I ask you all to trust me on this, Sir," he admitted. "It's especially true for you, given that it's your city and your people at stake. I realize it can't be an easy decision for you."
The Duke actually chuckled.
"Well, I certainly can't deny that," he said, eyes glittering with some faint traces of amusement. "However, after the Exalt has given you such a sincere vote of confidence, I think the least I can do is follow suit and give you my own trust."
Robin's jaw shot open. 'Wait, what?!'
Emmeryn stepped towards the Duke and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Duke Marcus… are you certain?" she asked, concern evident in her grey-green eyes.
The older man nodded in affirmation.
"Yes, I am," he replied easily.
'WHAT?!'
Utterly gobsmacked, the tactician couldn't even believe what he was hearing from the man.
'Wait, wait, wait, wait! Why are you willing to trust in me and in a plan based entirely upon assumptions?!'
Robin was so engulfed in his own chaotic, discombobulated thoughts that the Duke's next words almost flew right over his head.
"You've given him your blessing, Your Grace, and I know for a fact that you've always been a magnificent judge of character."
The Duke turned to face Robin, who stood absolutely frozen with eyes wide and mouth hanging open. If he found anything about the tactician's expression amusing, he certainly was doing a magnificent job of hiding it.
"I, too, think you have risen to the occasion splendidly when push came to shove, lad," he continued as he walked around the table to stand before the flabbergasted tactician. "I've had the opportunity to witness your ability and your tactical judgement first-hand. Her Grace believes in it, and your actions since arriving here have given me reason to at the very least do the same."
Robin jumped as the Duke put a firm hand on the tactician's shoulder.
"The fate of my people is in your hands, Tactician Robin," he said. "Now, please, show us your plan."
Robin was almost too shocked to react, but the confident nod from Chrom and the soft, supportive smile from Emmeryn reminded him of the fact that in spite of his known shortcomings the two had still chosen to put their trust in him.
Keeping thoughts of their support in mind, Robin mustered up the nerve to look the Duke in the eye and give him a firm nod.
"… T-thank you, Sir," he said, hoping his shaky resolve somehow managed to hold itself together until he could retreat to a more private location later on.
Looking at everyone else, he added, "I'll try not to let you all down."
The Duke smiled tightly as Emmeryn stepped forward.
"I'm sure you will not disappoint, my friend," she said. "Rest assured we will try not to let you down, either."
Robin all but collapsed into a chair next to the war room's main table, leaning an elbow against the table's top and bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes and throbbing temples and forehead. Maps, open books, parchments, and strategy pieces were scattered across the table the tactician was leaning against, evidence to the amount of work that had gone into the strategy meeting that had ended up lasting almost the entirety of the day.
As it was, he was the only person still remaining in the war room. Emmeryn, Phila, and Duke Themis had left much earlier in the day to speak to the people of the city about the planned evacuation, leaving Chrom and Frederick to stay with him for another hour or two in order to discuss troop deployment plans for the journey home.
If he were completely honest with everyone – himself, especially – Robin was beginning to doubt his actual capability for foresight and troop micro- and macro-management. True, it had been his idea to evacuate Themis and retreat back to Ylisstol, but he'd grossly underestimated the amount of planning needed to facilitate a mass exodus of an entire city's population.
The details that needed to be considered and micromanaged were almost overwhelming, and were it not for the fact that he wasn't the only mind working on the evacuation plan Robin was sure he might have been buried beneath everything he needed to keep track of.
First off, he needed to make sure they were adequately supplied to feed such a large group of people. Second, he needed to make sure everyone would be able to make the journey, and that meant making sure those who were unfit to make the journey on foot with the main bulk of their small army and had to be taken ahead via horseback, wagon, or pegasi were given the priorities. Then there was the problem of convincing everyone that it was in their best interests to leave their homes behind. He'd initially thought that would be almost impossible given people tended to not want to leave their homes, but his fears were allayed when Exalt Emmeryn and Duke Marcus both assured him they would be able to handle that particular problem.
'That's one less problem to deal with, thankfully,' he thought. 'It's a good thing they were gracious enough to help me out on that front, too… we already have a lot to think about just sorting out the logistics of the situation.'
A knock on the war room's door drew him away from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality as he was alerted of the presence of a visitor.
"It's open," the tactician called out tiredly.
'Please don't be anyone who wants to discuss the plan… That's about the last thing I want to be talking or thinking about right now…'
He almost sighed audibly with relief when Lissa poked her head in from behind the opening door.
"Hey, Robin! Do you have a minute to spare?" the princess asked, her cheery smile giving the tactician a much needed boost of energy.
"I'm not busy," he replied easily, returning the smile with a rather wan one of his own. "Do you need me for anything?"
Lissa shook her head. "Not at all, actually," she replied.
Robin frowned. "Okay… so why are you here, then?" he ventured cautiously, hoping this wasn't another one of Lissa's schemes or pranks.
'I'm not forgetting what she pulled with those frogs any time soon…'
Lissa grinned. "Don't be so suspicious!" she chided teasingly.
Robin was sorely tempted to point out that he had every reason to be suspicious of the princess given her previous track record.
"Anyway, I'm not the one who wants to see you," Lissa continued. "All I'm doing here is breaking the ice for someone who does."
'Someone who wants to see me…?' he parroted internally, now thoroughly confused. 'What?'
Lissa disappeared behind the door for a moment, exchanging a few muffled words with the other person that Robin couldn't quite hear even if he strained his ears.
Before the tactician could even wonder what was actually being said, Lissa quickly reappeared at his door, leading a protesting – and clearly flustered – Maribelle by the hand until she was standing before Robin.
'… Well. This was certainly not expected,' he thought as Lissa left with a cheery wave, before he focused on Maribelle.
She looked far and away much better than she had this morning when they'd rescued her, no doubt thanks to the care that had been afforded her by Lissa and the other healers that had accompanied them. Aside from a few angry welts where he remembered she'd been bruised quite badly by the Plegians' rough handling of her, she seemed to be wearing no other external signs of the experience she'd had to go through.
Noticing that the blonde noblewoman was fidgeting nervously, Robin decided to at least break the tension and put her at ease.
"Ah, Lady Maribelle, good evening," he greeted, moving to stand. He'd barely made it onto his feet before his gaze wavered and swam.
The next few moments were suddenly a blur of motion, and all Robin knew was that one moment he'd been standing, and the next he was back in his seat with Maribelle steadying him in an upright seating position with a surprisingly firm grip.
"W-wha… what happened…?" he mumbled.
Maribelle frowned. "You nearly fainted when you stood to greet me," she replied.
'Ah…'
"You're showing quite a few signs of exhaustion, Tactician," the blonde remarked as her intense burgundy gaze bore right into Robin. "I'd suggest you not get up again without someone around to steady you. As it is, you were lucky enough that you didn't hit your limit beforehand. How long has it been since you last had a proper night of rest?"
Robin blinked. This… this was definitely not what he'd expected.
"Probably… not since we found out Themis was attacked…?" he murmured. "I've had a lot to do, after all…"
Maribelle shook her head. "That won't do," she commented. "That won't do at all, Tactician. You must get your rest whenever you are able."
The tactician found himself completely flummoxed by Maribelle's behavior.
"Are… are you alright…?" he blurted out, the words leaving his lips before his tired mind could even process the thoughts that he'd vocalized.
Maribelle's eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before narrowing angrily, her brows furrowed in displeasure.
"Am I alright? Am I alright?!" she all but shrieked as her hands grabbed fistfuls of his coat. "That is a question I should be asking you, Mister! I'm not the one who can't even stand on his own two feet! Why, I'll have you know…"
As the girl launched into a heated rant, Robin could only wonder in stunned silence just what had happened in the world for Maribelle to suddenly show him some semblance of care and concern when all previous instances of them interacting had been her being a condescending snob – not that he'd ever let her know of that particular opinion.
The change in her demeanor was enough to make him consider if he wasn't actually under the enemy's spell or in some parallel dream world or alternate universe.
"… I doubt you've even allowed yourself anything that even remotely resembles a break, and… are you even listening to me?!"
Maribelle's shrieked question jolted Robin back to the present, his wide hazel eyes meeting the blonde noblewoman's angry burgundy as she took a close – almost too close, if he were perfectly honest – look at his face.
'I'm screwed, aren't I…?'
"Oh, gods, you're even worse off than I had imagined!" she commented, pulling away and beginning to pace about the war room. "You can't even pay full attention anymore! I need to tell the Prince that you're being overwor–!"
Robin immediately sat up straight at the mention of her mentioning his exhaustion to Chrom.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on just a moment," Robin said, attempting to rise from his seat before his vision swam once again.
Faster than he could have imagined, Maribelle was at his side and easing him back down into his chair before he could collapse into a sprawled heap on the floor.
"Goodness, did you not hear me the first time?" she said, equal amounts of concern and exasperation lacing her tone. "Please, Tactician, do us both a favor and stay seated."
Robin resisted the urge to rub at his eyes and forehead.
"I did, and believe me when I say that I'd gladly do as you say," he said. "… I wouldn't blame you if you said that you find that difficult to believe, though. I think most everything about me is difficult to believe."
A smile touched Maribelle's lips. "At least you're aware of that fact."
Robin shook his head, unable to resist a wan smile of his own from twisting his own lips for a brief moment before he grew serious once more.
"Still, I'd really appreciate it if you could do me a favor and not tell Chrom I'm exhausted."
Maribelle's eyebrows shot up. "What?!" she exclaimed. "A-are you mad?!"
"Look, the last thing Chrom needs is another thing on his mind," Robin fired back. "As it is, we need everyone to be pouring all their energy into the war effort. If Chrom finds out, it could prove to be the sort of distraction that could potentially cost us everything."
The blonde noblewoman stared at Robin for a brief moment, the gears of her mind almost visible as they worked behind her eyes, before she gave a slight smile.
"I see… so that is why Lissa, Prince Chrom, and Her Grace have taken so kindly to you…"
'Huh?'
Robin frowned. "I don't quite understand."
Maribelle shook her head. "No, forget I said anything," she replied. "I fear I may have just misjudged you entirely based on a poor first impression."
'That makes two of us, really…' Robin thought, frowning in thought as he went over his own poor impressions of Maribelle judging from her behavior when they first met.
For her part, the blonde noblewoman seemed to misunderstand the expression on his face.
"Is… something amiss?" she asked, more than a little hesitation present in both her voice and her facial expression.
Robin blinked. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong," he replied easily. "I was just… thinking about what you said, really, and that you might not be the only one guilty of misjudging someone based on a poor first impression."
Maribelle nodded thoughtfully. "Ah… if it would not be a bother to you, might I inquire as to your thoughts?"
The tactician looked away.
"Well, I… I'm surprised by the care you're suddenly showing," Robin said, and if he were to be completely honest he'd admit he was just as surprised by how timid he actually sounded. "I know from our previous encounters that you're not especially fond of me, but…"
Maribelle's mouth made a small 'o' for a moment, the gears of her mind turning behind her burgundy eyes as the pieces of the puzzle clicked.
"… Oh. I-it's not a question of fondness, Tactician," she replied quickly. "I am simply protective of my darling Lissa. My treasure is very sensitive, and…"
Robin tried not to laugh as Maribelle rambled on. 'If only you knew that she'd throw a fit at being described as 'sensitive'.'
"… Wait. Am I really justifying myself to a commoner?" the noblewoman suddenly asked, eyes wide in horror. "Gods above, I am, aren't I…"
'Yes, yes, you were, Maribelle. I'll pretend I didn't hear you refer to me as a commoner, but, yes, you were.'
Maribelle placed a gloved hand against her forehead. "Dear heavens… Yes, well, I do… apologize for being so curt with you in all instances prior. Rest assured that I… do not bear any ill will towards you."
Robin found himself very surprised when he witnessed a light pink dusted itself over Maribelle's pale cheeks.
"And… And…" she stammered out. "And you have my thanks for your part in the rescue. There, I said it!"
'She's surprisingly earnest…' Robin thought with a smile. 'It's almost cute how she wears her heart on her sleeve, actually.'
The tactician chuckled, thoroughly amused by this new and different side to the blonde noblewoman that he was seeing.
Maribelle's cheeks darkened in accordance with Robin's unexpected reaction.
"W-what, pray tell, do you find so amusing?!" she asked, face now cherry red. "Answer me, Tactician, or so Naga help me I will beat some manners into you!"
Robin this time was unable to resist erupting into laughter, much to Maribelle's embarrassment, and said laughter would continue on for several minutes. The tactician tried several times to calm himself down, but it took only another look at the noblewoman's flushed face for him to descend into a fresh bout of hysterics.
After he'd reached the point when his stomach and cheeks ached from too much laughing, Robin was finally able to bring himself back under some semblance of control, although the tactician still let out a few chuckles here and there as he tried to settle back down.
"Are you quite done?" Maribelle asked.
Robin nodded. "I am, I am," he said breathlessly between dying laughs. "I-I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist laughing."
Maribelle sighed. "I hope that truly is the case," she remarked. "I'd hate for you to undo all the positive changes to my opinion of you by making a mockery of me, Tactician."
Said tactician masked one final chuckle with a cough.
"Right, right… I apologize if I unknowingly insulted you, Lady Maribelle," he said, bowing as much as he could in his seat.
Maribelle gave him an appraising look for a brief moment before a sigh once again slipped past her lips.
"I suppose I could let this slide…" she said, and Robin had the feeling she was deliberately being overly dramatic. "If we are to start things over, it would be best that we start on the right foot, yes?"
Robin nodded in agreement before he slowly began to rise to his feet, using his arms to support his tired body and leaden legs.
Maribelle's eyes widened. "Tactician!" she said, stepping forward to try to help him – or, more likely, push him back down into his seat – before said tactician raised a hand to stop her short.
"I was taught… that no man should allow himself…" Robin grunted out as he rose to his feet. "… to be introduced to a lady of court… while seated…"
Once he was steady on both feet, the tactician straightened his posture, taking as much time as he could so as to avoid a repeat of his earlier episodes.
"It would reflect… rather poorly on me if I stayed seated," he said once he was standing straight, the angle of his head tilted ever so slightly so he could lock eyes with the shorter Maribelle. "As you said… 'it would be best if we start on the right foot, yes?'"
Maribelle smiled in approval. "Yes, quite right," she said, before taking hold of her skirt and giving a polite curtsy. "My name is Maribelle, Sir Tactician. I am the heir to the Duchy of Themis, and a member of Chrom's Shepherds. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"And my name is Robin," he introduced, giving Maribelle a courtly half-bow. "I'm… the tactician of the Shepherds, but it would please me if you refer to me by name rather than by title, as I would rather not be separated from my comrades by superficial things like titles or ranks. It is good to meet you."
As they rose from their greetings, Maribelle smirked playfully.
"You do well in courtly manners for one who is afflicted with amnesia," she commended, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Still a little rough around the edges, but with a little help, you may actually become quite the role model for other Ylissean courtiers."
Here her smirk grew wider. "Maybe I should take it upon myself to educate you on the intricacies of high society and courtly behavior?"
Robin almost felt his opinion of Maribelle change once again.
'What have I gotten myself into this time…?'
Location: Western Ylisse, Outskirts of Themis
Robin raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun beating down overhead, allowing him to more easily look out over the column of people – the people of Themis – walking past the small rise he was standing on.
Somehow, the evacuation had proceeded without a hitch, and after having spread the word to the people they were already. No one had really offered up much resistance to the idea of leaving their homes, which in itself was a great surprise to the tactician given how he might have felt had he been in their position.
'Could I really leave my home behind if asked to do so…?' he wondered as his eyes scanned the main road leading towards central Ylisse, noting that Ylissean soldiers were moving as he and Chrom had discussed previously: pairs of light cavalry served as 'checkpoints' for the people to follow, while entire squads and platoons of foot soldiers patrolled the main road in set intervals.
The barest hints of a smile both bitter and wan touched his lips. 'Heh… I don't think I would be able to,' he thought wryly. 'So much for not asking people to do something I wouldn't be willing to do myself.'
Robin sighed at that line of thought. He could only imagine how things would have gone had he or maybe even Chrom been the one to break the news to the people of the city.
All he could really say was that it certainly wouldn't have gone over as well as it apparently had.
'Duke Marcus and Exalt Emmeryn are miracle workers to have gotten all these people to go along with the evacuation plan without anyone raising a fuss over it.'
Robin chuckled dryly. "It looks like I have much to learn, still…" he murmured to himself.
"Maybe, but you really shouldn't sell yourself short."
Robin made a conscious effort not to jump at the unexpected intrusion. He turned – doing his best to make the motion as nonchalant as possible so as not to give away his surprise – to face Chrom as the other man walked up to him, Frederick ever present at his shoulder. The large knight offered the tactician a small nod of acknowledgement, something which the latter took to be a good sign.
It was certainly a lot more than he'd gotten from the man in previous encounters, so it had to count as a step in the right direction.
"Perhaps you're right," the tactician acknowledged. "But, I think I need to be critical of my own performance considering just how many lives tend to rest on the decisions I make."
Chrom let out a sigh as he walked up to stand next to Robin.
"Sure, but you're also reaching the point where you can hardly believe in yourself or that what you're doing is right," he replied, glancing at Robin out of the corner of his eye. "The Duke said it yesterday, didn't he? Don't keep second-guessing yourself. At some point, you will need to make the hard decisions, and we'll all be trusting in you when those times actually come."
Robin chose to remain silent, something which aggravated Chrom's frustrations if his following groan was any indication.
"Look, Robin, as much as you think you – and we as a whole – could have done more, you also have to look at what we actually were able to do," the prince continued, placing a hand on the tactician's shoulder. "You should know better than anyone that we probably did the maximum we could have given the situation. Getting hung up over the what-ifs won't get you anywhere, and it'll probably just make you do what you're doing right now – doubting yourself for what you perceive as your own shortcomings."
Chrom's hand slid off Robin's shoulder as the prince turned to – presumably – leave and get to his assigned post.
"I'm not asking for an instant change in outlook, don't get the wrong idea. I know these sorts of things take time to sort out," he said. "But… well, it can be difficult to believe in someone who won't believe in himself, you know? You have my trust, you have Emm's, and I'm sure you have most – if not all – of the Shepherds', but not everyone will see you or know you the way we do. They won't try to understand whatever performance anxiety is plaguing you. They'll just see a tactician who can't even trust his own decisions, and who in hindsight thinks everything he did was a mistake and that he could have done better."
Chrom shook his head. "It won't be something that inspires confidence in anyone," the prince continued. "And you, above all, have to inspire confidence in those of us who follow you, or you might eventually reach the point where we can't even trust you. Just… give it some thought. You're better than you think you are, Robin. You just need to find that same belief in your own self that we all have in you."
The prince strode away, cape flapping in the wind. Frederick, surprisingly enough, chose not to utter a single word and instead turned on his heel to follow his liege, his armor clanking with every step.
When Robin was sure he was alone, he let out a deep sigh.
He had to admit that Chrom did have a point. He knew that. Logically, everything the prince said made complete sense, and when he looked at it from an objective standpoint he could see the truth in his words.
Chrom was right when he said that they had done the maximum they could have. This campaign wasn't going to be hailed as a victory for Ylisse, by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly wouldn't go down in the history books as a defeat, either.
Robin knew that this outcome was as close to a victory as he could have really hoped to achieve given the circumstances and the way events managed to play out: They managed to save Maribelle from execution at the hands of King Gangrel, they evacuated Themis before the Plegian army could so much as even cross the Ylisse-Plegia border and threaten the city, and all the Shepherds were even going to make it back home to Ylisstol.
He really couldn't have asked for anything more than that…
'So why do I still feel like I can't simply accept how things turned out…?'