Robin and Chrom charged at a black-robed figure, dodging and weaving as he directed a series of magical attacks at them. Working as a team, the two Shepherds harried the dark mage for several minutes, managing to avoid his attacks but unable to breach his defenses. Finally, with him distracted by Chrom, one of Robin's spells made contact, striking him in the back.

The mage turned over his shoulder, making eye contact with Robin as his shoulder began to crumble. "Robin?" he asked, as though she had betrayed him. "This… can't be over… GODS DAMN YOU!" he screamed, more of his body crumbling into purple ash as her spell took effect. With his last strength, he sent a crackling bolt of purple-blue energy flying at Robin and Chrom. Reacting quickly, Robin pushed Chrom out of the way, taking the full brunt of the mage's spell.

As the spell hit her, she closed her eyes, falling into darkness for a moment. When she opened them, all she could feel was unspeakable rage. Rage enough to burn down the world.

Chrom took a step toward her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Robin, are you alright?" She looked up at him, wordlessly concentrating her magical power into a bolt of electricity. One look at her eyes, and he stepped back. "Robin? What's wrong? Hey, hang on—"

She cut him off with a bolt of lightning to the heart. Chrom sunk to his knees, mouth twisting in pain. "This… is not your fault," gasped Chrom from his knees. She looked at the prince for a moment, tilting her head to the side, before another wave of rage swept over her. She kicked him viciously in the side, sending him sprawling to the floor, motionless.

She turned away from the prince's corpse, sighing with relief. "Oh, Chrom," she said, turning to look over her shoulder and directing a bitter smile at his body. "If only that were true."

Robin bolted awake in bed. That same dream again. But that last part is new. What the hell? This isn't normal. Looking around, Robin took stock of her surroundings. Judging by the small amount of light coming through the window, it was just before dawn, probably 4 in the morning. She was in Regna Ferox, in one of the guest rooms the Shepherds had been granted by the Feroxi. And she was alone. Dammit, Arthur. Why aren't you here? Sleeping with him had been the first time since waking up with amnesia that she had awoken peacefully, and not from a nightmare. Now she was sleeping alone again. Why isn't he here?

Robin touched her lips with her hand, remembering the events of the previous night. Everything had been going so well, and then… Arthur's 'conscience' wouldn't let him go further.

Analysis, Robin. What did he mean by that? There was something he couldn't tell me. Robin's initial instinct at this was to feel betrayed, but upon a brief consideration she realized she had plenty of things she hadn't told Arthur. Like the dreams where I kill people. Those would probably be a red flag. Wait… could he know? Could he know something about me that I don't know? Maybe I was some kind of murderous dark mage before I lost my memories, and Arthur found out but doesn't want to tell me. No… this has to do with Marth.

Robin thought back to the snippet of conversation she had overheard in the aftermath of the arena fight. When she had gone looking for Arthur, she had heard the last fragment of a conversation between Arthur and Marth. What did Marth say? I think it was "I will not hesitate to end you, alliance or no alliance". What the hell does that mean? I guess Arthur and Marth are in an alliance of some sort, but a tense one. Maybe Marth was referencing the new alliance between Ylisse and Regna Ferox? That would make sense, but… I just don't think so. Marth seems more like a freelance, and if it were something like that, why would Arthur lie? No… it's something else, and I bet it's all connected. The reason they were talking, whatever thing Arthur can't tell me. There's some secret I don't know.

Marth does have a sword that looks like Falchion – is it real or fake? If it is a real Falchion, a real fang of Naga, that raises so many more questions. According to Chrom, only those who are both worthy of carrying it and have the brand of Naga can wield it. Does Marth satisfy both of those conditions? How could that be? Is he related to Chrom? A long-lost family member? That would explain the mimicry of style and maybe the Falchion. So when he mentioned an alliance… could he mean between himself and Arthur? Maybe between some faction he represents and some faction Arthur represents. Could be Arthur's father. His father's a duke, right? Could this be a political issue? Let's operate under the assumption that Marth is related to Chrom and Arthur is representing his father. From there, the logical conclusion is that this 'alliance' is one sponsored by the Duke of Pyrath, meant to press Marth's claim to the throne. Could that really be, though? I mean, it would provide a sensible reason why he's here – maybe Marth meant to 'accidentally' kill Chrom in the arena, but wasn't strong enough. No…when we first met, he saved Lissa and Chrom's lives. Why would he do that if he wanted them dead? No, he's probably not some kind of claimant to the throne. If he were, he wouldn't be worthy of carrying Falchion, he wouldn't have saved Chrom and Lissa, and he wouldn't have come jumping out of a portal during an earthquake. Something even bigger is going on, and Arthur knows something about it. And hasn't told me. And maybe the reason he won't take things further with us is because he feels guilty that he hasn't told me. Hmmm. Okay. I can work with this situation.

What's the plan, Robin? Glad you asked, Robin.

Operation Discovery:

Goal: Learn the Truth – About Arthur, About Myself

Leads: My Dreams – memories? Can't be, because Chrom is alive. Visions of the future? I can't believe that's possible based on my behavior in the dreams. Most likely figments of my imagination, developed by a frantically stressed post-amnesia brain. Should be considered, but not overly prioritized.

Arthur – he says that there is something he can't tell me yet – the best way for me to discover this without asking is by learning more about him. As of now I don't know much about Pyrath, Arthur's family, or the political realities of Ylisse. Without knowing more, I can't speculate on his motivations.

Should I even be focusing on this? Is it distracting me at a time when I need to focus on my job in the Shepherds? No – this is my job in the Shepherds. I'm a tactician. My job is to use my mind to keep my soldiers safe, and outside of battle the best way to do that is by knowing the most about how things really are. Looking into my and Arthur's identities is actually the best way to do that. Learning more about my origins in Plegia will help if we go to war with Plegia, which is a distinct possibility according to Arthur. And, since Arthur knows more than the rest of us about Marth, and Marth is my only lead on the undead situation, learning more about Arthur's origins is a start to unraveling that mystery.

So here's the plan – ask about Arthur's past. That should also help me get closer to him, which conveniently also might help with my personal goals.

Finished developing her plan, Robin spat toothpaste into the sink, having idly finished her morning routine while planning. Time to go to work.

— Later that day —

"So, what was your childhood like?" asked Robin.

"Uh… that's quite a conversation starter," replied Arthur, rubbing the back of his head..

They were walking south from Arena Ferox, having left the city only a few minutes ago. Robin had just sidled up next to Arthur as they walked, intent on learning more about him.

"What can I say? I'm curious," said Robin. He's hesitant. Time for some emotional manipulation – it's for a good cause. "Well, since I don't have any childhood memories myself… I guess I was just hoping to know what things are like in Ylisse."

Just as Robin had hoped, Arthur's brow creased with concern. "Oh, I guess I hadn't thought about that. I'm sorry Robin." He paused for a moment, thinking. "My childhood was… sheltered. It wasn't an average Ylissean childhood."

Turn up the charm. She bumped her shoulder against him, grabbing his arm and putting on her most innocent voice. "I still want to hear about it."

"If you insist," said Arthur, flustered. Perfect. "Well… like I said, my childhood was sheltered. Noble children on the continent tend to grow up together with children of equal station, but the Duke of Pyrath is sort of isolated on the island. I was an only child… and the son of the Duke can't exactly go hang out with the village boys."

He was clearly being very honest, which in truth made Robin feel a tiny bit guilty. "Oh… I'm sorry," she said.

"Sorry?" said Arthur. "Don't be. My childhood made me who I am, so I don't regret it. Mostly I spent my time reading, training with the sword, playing outside and… fantasizing. Imagining myself in another world." He laughed nervously, snapping the fingers of his left hand a few times (a tell?), clearly embarrassed by the confession of his childhood activities.

"Don't be embarrassed," said Robin, still clinging to his arm as they walked. "I like how you turned out."

Arthur's mouth dropped for a moment before he composed himself. Gods, Robin. Now you're just toying with him. Let's change subjects.

"So, how is your relationship with your father?" she asked.

"Uh…you know… I don't know if you know this… but that's not really a question people ask each other casually," he said.

"Oh…" she said, still playing innocence. "I guess amnesia might have screwed up my social cues." Now play sad. She let go of his arm and distanced herself from him, trying to give the impression she was distressed but didn't want to show it. "Sorry."

"Oh, no need to be sorry!" scrambled Arthur. "I didn't mean I didn't want to talk about it with you! It's just… not something I've been asked before. It's… good, I guess? We're very close, although his duties keep him busy most of the time."

"And your mother?" asked Robin. "The Duchess? How does that work? Is it just a ceremonial title or does she have actual responsibilities in the duchy?"

Arthur clenched his jaw, uncomfortable. "My mother is dead, actually. Died giving birth to me."

Yikes. Suddenly this recon operation feels a bit less justified. "Oh… I'm sorry," she said. Robin didn't want to linger on the subject, and so tried to sweep the conversation in a direction which could provide her intelligence on Arthur's current motives (and ideally a subject which wouldn't make her feel so bad for him). "So… do you work for your father? Doing things around the duchy?"

"Well he wants me prepared to be Duke after him, so he'll often give me assignments. Not the most exciting stuff – settling tax disputes, arbitrating disputes between villages, that sort of thing."

"Interesting," said Robin, pondering the best way to phrase her next question. "How did he feel about you coming to join the Shepherds?" She saw Arthur hesitate for a moment at the question. Considering how much he can say? Preparing a lie? Both possible.

"Well, he actually didn't know that I was coming to the continent," said Arthur. "I left in a hurry."

"Why?" asked Robin, sensing that the answer was important.

"Uhhh…" said Arthur, looking around conspiratorially. Robin did the same by habit – the other Shepherds seemed within earshot, but were occupied with conversations of their own. "Could we talk about this later, in private? It's in the same vein as… what we talked about last night."

Robin nodded. "Okay," she responded. "Later." Needing to think uninterrupted, Robin excused herself and hopped into the Shepherds convoy, performing an inventory while trying to draw conclusions from their conversation.

Okay, so his unwillingness to explain verifies that what he's keeping secret is his motivation for being in the Shepherds. I think he's telling the truth about leaving in a hurry, but if his father didn't send him, who did? Clearly he has a purpose in the Shepherds. When we first met, he told Chrom that he wanted to experience the continent firsthand – a motivation that makes perfect sense, but it doesn't explain his conversation with Marth, or why he would lie about it to me. Plus, why would he leave his home in such a hurry if he just wanted to take a tour of the continent? So if we can conclude he's not here for himself and not here for his father, who could he possibly be working for?

The solution struck Robin like a lightning bolt, pieces of information suddenly clicking together in her mind. Why does he keep his brand a secret? He didn't tell me what dragon's holy blood the Dukes of Pyrath, but who else but his family's patron could give a sudden order for him to leave his island without telling the Duke? So then the alliance Marth mentioned – between Arthur's patron and theirs? And if he wields Falchion, Marth's patron is presumably Naga. An alliance of dragons, operated by their holy-blood carriers. Games within games. But an alliance for what? What's going on that requires an alliance? A war? Between dragons? But if so, why wouldn't Arthur tell me?

Maybe because he doesn't know what side I'm on. Think, Robin. Remember what Arthur said about the crusade? Naga's greatest enemy is Grima, the patron of Plegia. The country that I'm from, the dragon whose symbols cover my body. There seems to be a war coming between Ylisse and Plegia – a proxy war in a larger conflict between Naga and Grima? And in that larger conflict, Arthur doesn't trust me.

Robin understood why he wouldn't trust her, but it still stung. Anger flared in her chest at the unfairness of it. I have amnesia! Of course I'm not working for Plegia, or Grima! Does he think I'm faking?!

Robin spent the rest of the day's ride trying to distract herself by reading the books Miriel had loaned her, practicing magic, and generally trying to avoid looking in Arthur's direction. Even so, she couldn't completely distract herself, and as the day progressed she stewed more and more, frustrated at the notion that Arthur did not trust her and even more frustrated by her own fixation on the issue.

Eventually night fell and the Shepherds stopped to make camp. Having left her alone since their discussion, Arthur approached Robin and gestured for her to follow him and led her into the woods neighboring their encampment.

Eventually Arthur stopped walking, seeming to decide that they were far enough from the other Shepherds for privacy, and turned to her. "Okay Robin, let me explain," he said.

"You know what? Don't bother," said Robin, the day's frustration boiling over. "Look, Arthur – I understand. You can't trust me. We met less than two weeks ago. I get it, but I really don't want to hear another lie."

"Another?" asked Arthur, eyes wide in an alarmed expression."What do you mean?"

"Oh please," said Robin, narrowing her eyes. "When you said that you 'didn't catch up with Marth'?"

Arthur adopted a worried expression. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that there's a lot you're hiding from me," she said, bitterness seeping into her voice.

"Everyone hides things, Robin," said Arthur. "And you're right, we did meet less than two weeks ago. Everyone in the Shepherds has secrets – why do mine bother you so much?"

"Because…" Robin paused, considering the question herself, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Because… why does it bother me so much? Because I feel…differently… about Arthur than the other Shepherds. But I can't say that. Frustrated by her own emotional blockage, Robin spoke in an angrier tone. "Because… your secrets might jeopardize our group's safety! You're prioritizing them over the lives of your comrades!"

"Have you ever considered that I might have good reasons for secrecy?" said Arthur, matching her frustrated tone. "I'm sorry that I have higher priorities than a group of people I met last week!"

Robin curled her lip at the words. "Higher priorities, huh?" she said, trying to make her voice as cold and disinterested as possible but unable to completely disguise her hurt. "I understand completely." She turned and started walking away, pulling her cloak around her viciously and huffing a cloud of moisture into the cold air.

"Robin, wait!" came Arthur's voice from behind her. "I didn't mean…I…" he trailed off, seemingly unable to justify himself.

Robin kept walking away angrily, and Arthur made no attempt to follow her. I need time to think. She gathered her sleeping roll from the convoy, spread it out next to their camp's fire, slipped into it, and closed her eyes. Eyes closed, the thoughts came.

What have we learned? I still don't know if I can trust Arthur. This is the problem with non-amnesiacs – they have a whole lifetime of previous experience, and I don't. How am I supposed to know whether I can trust them? I guess I just have to assume that I can't trust them. Fine. Fine. I don't need Arthur. I don't need anyone. I'm strong and capable enough on my own. Let Arthur keep his secrets. I'm already reasonably sure that he's working for his patron, presumably against Grima. Which makes him my ally, for now. But it also means we can't get too close, Robin. His interests and ours are not necessarily aligned.

But I like him! I know he lied but for some reason I just can't shake this feeling that I can trust him. And plus, I've been lying to him about my dreams… can I really judge? He probably has a good reason for lying.

Are you kidding, Robin? Are you going to risk the other Shepherds' lives for your schoolgirl crush? No. Feelings are clouding your mind – we can't let them dictate our course of action. As long as feelings are getting in the way we need to hold Arthur at arm's length.

It was a dissatisfying conclusion, but Robin couldn't get around it. Every time she talked to Arthur things became more complicated, and her stupid, distracting feelings became more complicated. But Robin was a tactician, and she knew that the key to making good decisions in the heat of battle was to stay calm and make decisions rationally. The principle was the same here – relying on her feelings would lead to suboptimal decision-making. She needed to be ruled by rationality, and until she could control her feelings, rationality directed her towards only one course of action.

No more Arthur.

(Author's Note: Hope you liked this chapter – I really wanted to develop Robin's character some more. One thing I'm trying to convey is that she is someone who tends to be very solution-oriented, trying to resolve her feelings through rationality and orchestrated schemes. What she fundamentally wants is control, over her life and over herself, and thinks that the best way to get this control is through knowledge and power. It makes her come off as a little bit manipulative and duplicitous, but honestly I think that is a really valid character flaw for her – even in real life I think those characteristics are fundamentally motivated by a desire for control over one's social situation. I think Robin's amnesia situation would especially motivate this desire for control by any means, as she is essentially born into a situation of confusing emotion and extreme vulnerability. The thing that makes Robin hard to write though is that she should really be insanely smart. I mean, she's the world's greatest tactician, which would definitely make her smarter than yours truly, and it's hard to realistically write a character that is smarter than you, but I'm giving it a try. Something you might notice is that I have a real fixation on body language. Both characters are very perceptive and competent at reading body language, but you might have also noticed that a lot of Robin's behavior and body language is actually quite calculated – she's a little disingenuous really. I imagine her character as strategic in every aspect of her life, and this has good and bad effects. Honestly, I hate love stories where one or both of the characters are flawless – they're stupid and unrealistic and often really dehumanizing, and especially often they give the women in the story no agency – their only role is to be the flawless object the male lead works towards capturing. Often romance stories are just about creating aspirational gender norms and relationship models. I hate that. Perfect guy meets perfect girl, starts perfect relationship, perfectly. I want to write something about complex, fucked up people meeting each other in a complex, fucked up world.

Song: Fallen Star – The Neighborhood)