The door stands before me, silently judging me and the crown on my head, not caring for my name or station. A small metal plate is embedded into its mahogany wood, showing off two names in weathered Fodlani Cyrillic. "Eisner, B & , R". The second name has been scratched and burned until only the "R" can be seen. I don't remember ever seeing anything other than that "R" on this door. In a fit of curiosity, I had Hubert search for it a couple of times.
Even he couldn't find any clue as to what that name could be.
Nevertheless, both names are outdated now. One of the first things I did after the battle of Garreg Mach was to elevate both names into nobility. Byleth von Eisner is her proper name now. They were the ones who pushed me into reforming the way I did. My Teacher had proposed that examinations be held to evaluate the ability of the common man and to elevate those who showed potential. Her lover suggested I do the same to the nobility to ensure their ability. What followed was a quiet purge, where those who were corrupt or inept were seen through, and their posts were replaced by those who are more fit. The same man had also suggested that the empire should allow the people to petition for the removal of their lord without repercussions from the lord. That had led to the discovery of competent, but no less corrupt, robber barons. To celebrate this victory against the diseased nobility and to remind them of what the new order entailed, I used the powers of my "sacred" station to elevate the two responsible for this change into positions of respect. My Teacher is remembered as the one to break the chains of the nobility, and the judge of the ruling class. Some fringe religious groups had even sainted her, even though she would abhor the notion.
Her lover, however… Even though he had a massive influence on both her and Adrestia, the white-haired man was as good as forgotten now, six months after their…disappearance. Too busy celebrating My Teacher, only to forget the man at her side.
It hurts me that someone so important was already forgotten, but neither my teacher nor the man in question is here, so come back and fix the situation. Come back and make sure your lover's name isn't forgotten, My Teacher.
I reach out a hand tentatively, half expecting the door to suddenly burst open, the blank stare of my teacher and the amused eyes of her lover boring into me as the white-haired man opens the door with a blast of wind, chuckling all the while. It does not happen. Instead, my hand reaches the cold wood without interruption. I put some weight onto my hand, but the door refuses to budge.
I frown.
My Teacher wasn't known for locking her door, even when she and her lover were in a…compromised position. She must have locked it before the battle, but why?
"Edelgard? What are you doing?" I jump at a voice coming from behind me. My hand reaches for a hand axe that is not currently on my person.
Spinning around, I catch the azure eyes of Linhardt as he walks behind me with a questioning stare. My hand leaves my waist as I regain control of my breathing. I realize now that Linhardt is still in his academy uniform. Why? It's been six months since the Church of Seiros was kicked out of Garreg Mach; the rest of the Black Eagles had changed out of the uniform long ago.
"I-I was simply reminiscing. Nothing to be worried about, truly," I stutter slightly as I throw out a reply. Silently, I am impressed by how well I managed to catch myself and prevent any more stuttering.
"Is that so…" Linhardt frowns. His eyes narrow at me as if they were staring at something beyond me. Even if it is something that he does daily, I still feel uncomfortable. Before I could question him, however, his eyes suddenly widen, allowing me to see the entirety of his cerulean eyes. This a rare occurrence, as his tendency to nod off in the middle of a conversation causes his eyelids to constantly rest lower than a normal person's.
"...What day is it right now, Edelgard?"
"The first of the Wyvern Moon. Why do you ask?" I cannot make sense of his question.
"...I just remembered something. Could I ask you to follow me back to my room? My room here in the academy, that is. There is something I need to show you," The young heir to von Hevring bites his lip and he beckons me to follow him. Even though he phrased it as a question, it is clear that he is not taking a no for an answer.
"I suppose I have time," I say slowly, as I go to follow him.
Walking through the dormitories causes more memories to flood through me. It is the place that I spend the last year living in, after all. Who knew that the people who I learned and laughed with would become my enemies?
You did. You were prepared to throw their lives away. A traitorous part of my mind points out. True, I did plan to overthrow the church, knowing that I would be facing both the Kingdom and the Alliance in battle. Still, was it not the correct path? Look at the Empire now; the reforms that My Teacher and her lover put in place had blossomed wonderfully. My Teacher, I need your help right now. Please come back to your Little Eaglet and show her how to go on.
We reach Linhardt's old room. Linhardt goes to open the door, only to find out that it too is locked. He curses under his breath and goes to find the correct key. Showing no respect for the sanctity of his room, I kick open the door while he is fiddling around with his keychain. The lock leaves the wood of the door with a satisfying crack, and the door swings open limply.
"Hey! Well… It wasn't like I was planning to use this room, anyhow…" Linhardt starts to complain, then deflates. I ignore him and enter the room, grab his chair, and sit in the centre of the room.
"Well? What was it that you needed to share with me?" I ask the still-stunned von Hevring.
He walks over to the desk, ignoring my question. Or perhaps, answering it? He opens one of the drawers, revealing at least a half-dozen leather-bound books inside. Scooping them in his arms, he walks over to me and nods at the books in his arms.
"You wanted to show me… books?" I give him a questioning stare.
"These aren't just books, Edelgard… These are the Professors' journals…" Linhardt answers dryly as he places the book on the desk, giving me a pointed look.
"Which one?" Byleth and her lover had co-taught the Black Eagles house, at Byleth's insistence. Saying 'The Professor's' didn't give me an idea of which one he was talking about. Then again, either of their journals would be a massive boon to us at this moment. Her Teacher's journal should be filled with information on the martial arts, and perhaps they could use that information to create a new guide for new soldiers. And her lovers… If the random papers they had found during his stay at Enbarr were normal, he probably had a thousand contingencies written in his musings.
"Both. However…" Linhardt frowns as he sees my face light up. This is more than I could ever hope for! Both Professor's writings? How much information is stored in those journals?
Then, questions start appearing in my head. Why hasn't he opened them yet? Why does he have them in his room? Why hasn't he told me yet?
"I tried to open them on the night of… well, what happened. This isn't the first time I've been back in my room, you know?" Linhardt gestures to the room. Indeed, the room is only covered by a thin layer of dust, rather than being blanketed by the stuff like the rest of the dorms. "However, they were sealed by a spell. I could not even open the covers, much less read them."
It seems that Linhardt preempted one of my questions. But unfortunately for him, not all of them.
"Linhardt. Why are they in your room?"
"That… is not my secret to tell…" Linhardt winces. I am not amused.
"Linhardt von Hevring. You will tell me, your Emperor, how these journals came into your possession,"
"Seriously, Edelgard! It's not my secret-"
"Do you want me to get Hubert?" This shuts the green-haired noble up.
"...Do I have to?" He winces and sighs, the fight disappearing from him.
"If you value Her Majesty's time, then you will," The sudden appearance of the newly-promoted Minister of the Imperial Household behind me causes both Linhardt and me to jump, though I do less.
"H-Hubert! I did not realize that you were following me," My voice cracks when it did not need to.
"I am forever vigilant, Your Majesty," Hubert says with a small bow.
"A-anyhow, please convince Linhardt to explain how he has the Professor's journals in his room!"
"No need to do so, Hubert! I am already convinced!" The young von Hevring sputters out as Hubert raises an eyebrow.
"Well? Get to explaining, then,"
"I will, I will…" Linhardt sighs in relief. Or is that a small hint of exasperation in his voice? "You see before the three of you left for Enbarr…"
Linhardt throws me a pointed look. What?
"The Professor gave me these journals and said if they didn't come back within a month, I could open the first one. When he did come back, he didn't ask for them back. Instead, he said that if any of them, them being Professor Byleth and himself, went missing for more than six months, I could open them all. Naturally, my curiosity overcame me and I tried to read through them before the six months were over. Imagine my non-existent surprise when the journals refused to open."
"What do you mean refused to open?" I ask Linhardt as he sits down lightly on his bed, taking care not to disturb the dust too much.
"The pages seemed to be glued together. It was like trying to pry open a rock with my bare hands. Furthermore, every time I tried, a weird magical sigil would appear on the cover that I cannot make heads nor tails of, even after six months," Linhardt explains. "I've been trying my hardest to figure it out; it's what I've been doing in what little spare time I have. It is not going very well…"
"I see… And you expect them to be openable now?" Hubert answers for me, even though I did not ask him to.
"Indeed. It has been six months, after all. I don't believe he would tell me to open them if they were unopenable,"
"That is… fair. As much as the Professor was cryptic, he is known for being honest," I answer before Hubert can. The surprise that flicks across his face makes me feel very satisfied. It only lasts for a second, though, and it disappears very quickly. This makes me feel less satisfied.
"Well, might as well give it a try," Linhardt goes up to the journal on the top of the pile, grabs it, and carefully flips to the first page.
I peek over his shoulder to get a better look…
…only to find that I cannot read whatever script that this language is written in.
"I suppose that this isn't Professor Byleth's journal, then?" Hubert seems to have also leaned over. His dry comment seems to go right over Linhardt's head, however, and the tall man fiddles around in his pocket and pulls out a small booklet.
"I am…" Linhardt quickly checks his booklet. "...Robin the Foundling. I was…discovered by…The Son of the King, Chrom… I suppose that means Prince? Yeah, I'm going with Prince. I was discovered by Prince Chrom and… Princess Lissa. I have lost all of my memories. I wonder what's happening next. Dated thirteenth of the Horsebow Moon, 2609."
Hubert and I both stare at Linhardt in astonishment, though Hubert's gaze has undertones of suspicion in them.
"Linhardt…How exactly do you know this?"
Fear suddenly appears in Linhardt's cerulean eyes.
"Ah… Professor Robin may or may not have given me a book written in Archanean, and then proceeded to give me a rough guide on how to translate Archanean…"
"And why did you not tell me?"
"Because you didn't ask?" Linhardt shrugs weakly as he stares into my eyes.
"Interesting… This…Archanea must have a longer history than all of Fodlan," Hubert points out.
"Why is that?"
"The date. The year 2609 would be more than a thousand years in the future in the Foldani calendar, and yet Professor Robin does not strike me as having lived more than a thousand years,"
Linhardt nods in response.
"I suppose so," I sigh as Linhardt starts to mumble on about something I can not understand nor want to understand. I flip to the next page despite Linhardt's protests…
…only to find it blank. The whole book is. Linhardt goes through the entire book without finding so much as ink stains on the pages.
"Well…that's anti-climatic. Let's have a look at a different journal. Hopefully, Professor Byleth wrote something in hers," Linhardt sighs and slams the journal shut. As he does so, however, a small slip of paper flutters out from within the bound pages and lands at my feet. I lean down to take a look.
Thankfully, the words written on them are in Fodlani Cyrillic.
To whoever is reading this,
If you are surprised as to why the pages are blank, don't be. Do you think it's going to be that easy to find information on my past? I have hexed the pages so that they can only be legible by a person carrying the Mark of the Defile or the Mark of Naga. So good luck reading about my past unless your name is Chrom, Lissa, Lucina, or Cynthia Lowell.
Also, if your name is Linhardt von Hevring, wait until I get back. I'll explain everything then. Take a look at By's diary while you wait, she doesn't care nearly as much for the past as I do. Also, the key to our rooms is in her diary. I've left some things you might find useful in that room. Do not open the third drawer; I keep the poisons that I've confiscated from Claude in there. Only Naga knows what's happened to them in the time since.
Best of Luck,
Prof. Robin the Foundling
Garreg Mach Monastery
"Well, that answers our questions quite nicely, yes?" Hubert muses with a chuckle. "Though I never thought Professor Robin would care for anything that is not named Byleth von Eisner or Edelgard von Hresvelg."
"He cares for a lot of things, Hubert," I snap back at dry rebuke before turning my eyes to the rest of the journals.
I comb through the multiple journals. Most of them are like the previous one, empty except for the small opener in Archanean. However, the journal bound by light leather is not empty but instead crammed with writing and musing from My Teacher. While I would love to read it at another date, I feel that the key is more important to me, and the whole of Adrestia, at the moment.
I find a rather simple-looking key at the back of the journal, attached there rather hastily with a piece of string. Linhardt and I share a look, before sprinting out of the room; the energy that Linhardt possesses is shocking considering how lethargic he usually is.
Hubert tries and fails to catch up before we reach the Professors' room.
I rip the key off of the back of the journal. My Teacher isn't here to tell me not to do it, and I don't want to wait for her permission.
The key fits perfectly into the keyhole, as it should, and I unlock to door. Hubert finally catches up, a strained look on his face. I delicately push the door open.
A small gust of air comes from within the room, and the scent of something flowery comes spreads out into the open air. There is a heavy blanket of dust here, covering everything in a brownish-grey blanket.
The room feels…strange. Not in a bad way, but not what I had expected. The desk is clean and organized, a far cry from Professor Robin's office. Likewise, the room is extremely tidy. There is a sword on the wall, tied there by straps of leather. Professor Robin's sword, I believe. My Teacher used the Sword of the Creator or a Steel Sword from her mercenary days.
"Not what I expected from Professor Robin's room, but that man is filled with surprises…" Linhardt mutters to himself. "You suppose that it was Professor Byleth that kept him in line?"
I ignore his question and step into the room. Frowning, I cannot find the item that Professor Robin said he left.
After a couple of minutes of fruitless searching, Linhardt steps in to help with a sigh. Hubert arrives a few minutes after that. By that point, the room's dust had lifted into the air, and Linhardt had stepped outside to avoid the clogging dust in the air.
Finally, under a mess of objects under the bed (That's why it was so tidy! Professor Robin just shoved everything under the bed. Wonder how My Teacher felt about that), we find a box labelled: For the Eaglets in My Teacher's handwriting.
I tentatively reach out and open the box.
A pile of slowly yellowing papers greets me, and I sigh. Hubert frowns behind me.
"I cannot read these papers, Your Majesty. Perhaps they will need to be translated from whatever language that Professor Robin finds appropriate to write in?"
"I'll have Linhardt do that," I nod. In the meantime, I go to grab the journal that has slowly been getting heavier in my pocket. I had skimmed through it to find the key here but hadn't read it at all.
I start to read the first page as Linhardt enters the room…
AN:
Hello! Thank you for reading the first chapter of my first-ever fan-fic! A thousand apologies for any mistakes and/or missed plot points; I've only ever played Crimson Flower to completion, and I'm currently (as of 10-16-2022) working through Azure Moon.
So why did I decide to write about Robin and Byleth? Well, I've always loved Awakening, even if it's over ten years old now. The character of Robin just resonates with me. Don't ask me why, I couldn't tell you. Then, I read "Shepherding the Flock" by ReverendSwing over on Ao3 and I found myself inspired. (The fact that that fic hasn't been updated in nearly 7 months was also a factor) Originally, I was going to write in my own 3rd-person style, but then I read "Crimson Pages" by "Dr. Ian Malcolm" here on FFnet and I thought it would be a nice challenge to write in that style. So here it is: White Clouds, Lavender Storms. A story about the Ashen Demon meeting the freed vessel of Grima, falling in love, and how that changes everything.
For those of you who want to know: (WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR FIRE EMBLEM: AWAKENING AHEAD) This Robin never gets married. He chose to sacrifice himself to kill Grima, but the bonds weren't enough to bring him back to Ylisse. His bonds were strong enough to keep him from dying, however, and he ended up in Fodlan, right in front of an 18-year-old Byleth and a Naga knows-how-old Jeralt.
Don't worry if it feels unexplained right now, I'll explore this thoroughly.