He kneeled in the courtyard of the Ylissean palace. Rain poured around him, pattering against the blades of grass before dripping down them to the ground. The backs of his hands were a diluted red, the blood washing away as quickly as it could stain them. He held them against the wound in her torso, frantically trying to stem the blood which poured forth, which seeped into the fabric of her soaked clothes, which trickled into murky brown puddles around her.

Her sword was gone. Her mask was gone. He looked into her eyes. They were glazed, a dull blue. Her left pupil had disappeared completely. She was already dead.

"Lucina," he croaked, sinking his head against her body. "I'm sorry."

It had been three days since the battle at the pass. In that time, the Shepherds and Emmeryn had returned to Ylisstol. Chrom, Robin, and Emmeryn had been occupied with war councils all day – in the aftermath of the battle, both Arthur and Robin had been awarded for their acts of valor. Arthur had been granted an honorary knighthood. Robin had been granted a seat on the royal war council. It had taken up most of her time in the last three days. Arthur had only seen her in occasional stolen moments, and with her insistence that their relationship be kept secret there had been no opportunities for... anythnig else.

Arthur groaned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to remember the dream he had the previous night. All he could remember about it was that it had seemed important, but the more he grasped at it the further away the memory seemed. Bringing his hands down from his eyes, he grasped his mug of coffee and took a sip of the hot liquid. I shouldn't be thinking about my dreams. I should be paying attention to what father is saying.

"–and then they said that they had already paid it, but the castellan had no record of it, so we contacted the merchant who conducted the order–"

Or not. Arthur looked around at his surroundings as well as he could while feigning attention to his father's words. It was dawn – four hours before Arthur would have liked to wake up. His father had sent one of his servants to wake Arthur in the Shepherds' barracks (embarrassing) thirty minutes ago. Arthur had been instructed to meet his father for tea in the courtyard of the royal palace. Barely awake, he had pulled on clothes and made his way there. Arthur was very curious about what his father wanted to talk about, but unfortunately Duke Uther had a habit of meandering conversations around the topic he really wanted to discuss. Life as a duke had given Arthur's father a penchant for meaningless pleasantries that Arthur could not match. In the back of his mind, he registered that his father was transitioning topics and tuned back in.

"But that's not what I came here to talk about," finished his father. "I came because we need to discuss your future."

"My future?" asked Arthur, intrigued (and slightly worried) by the topic. "What about my future?"

"Son… have you ever thought about marriage?" asked his father.

"Marriage?" said Arthur, now quite worried. He shrugged, trying to convey nonchalance. "I've thought about it hypothetically, I suppose. In the future. Maybe after the war."

"Arthur, do you trust me?" asked his father. Arthur knew this game. He had to say yes, and after he did his father would make a demand of him, and then if he objected his father would say 'Didn't you just say you trusted me?'

"I trust that you have my best intentions at heart," said Arthur, hoping to leave an escape route for himself from the request he could see coming.

"Good. Arthur… trusting that I have your best intentions at heart, how would you feel if I arranged a good match for you?"

"Uhh," said Arthur, unsure how to respond. "I think I'd rather find a match for myself."

"But didn't you just–"

"I'm sorry, father," said Arthur quickly, cutting his father off in his frustration. "I don't want an arranged marriage."

"Why not?" asked his father bluntly.

"Because… I want to fall in love," said Arthur, embarrassed by the admission..

"You should know that the two aren't mutually exclusive," said his father. "Your mother and I had an arranged marriage – we fell in love over the years." He must have been serious if he was mentioning Arthur's mother. "Love isn't something that you find one day, Arthur. It's something that you build over time."

"Even so – shouldn't I choose who I build it with?" said Arthur.

"Oh boy," sighed his father. He smiled knowingly. "Who is she?"

Arthur couldn't help but smile himself. "Just someone I met in the Shepherds," he admitted.

His father rolled his eyes mockingly. "And what does this mystery girl do? Pegasus knight, perhaps? Healer? Don't tell me she's a mage!"

"None of the above," responded Arthur.

"Tactician?" his father asked, lips tightening. Arthur coughed on his coffee, looking up at his father with undeniable guilt. The duke's face unexpectedly darkened at the confirmation. "The one named Robin?"

Arthur nodded, concerned with the change in his father's demeanor.

"Arthur… as your father… however far into this relationship you are, I think you should stop,"

"What?" asked Arthur, shocked.

"Did you even read my letter, Arthur?" said his father. "Did you skip the part where I said 'trust no one' and 'do nothing that cannot be undone'? How much clearer could I have been?"

"Significantly clearer," said Arthur. His father ignored him.

"This girl, Arthur… I don't think a relationship with her is wise,"

"Why not?" asked Arthur, outraged. "Have you even met her?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure I will soon," said his father. "Three weeks in the Halidom and she already has the Prince and the Exalt in her pocket. And you, apparently. I raised you to be smarter than this, Arthur."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Arthur, brow furrowed. "Robin is trusted by the Exalt because she's trustworthy, because even though she's only spent three weeks here, she has risked her life over and over again for our country!"

"Please!" said his father, exasperated. "You really believe that 'amnesia' nonsense? All it took was that little amnesia sob story to wrap you all around her finger. Even if I did believe she had amnesia, you still could not marry her. She's a commoner, Arthur, and a Plegian one at that!"

Arthur's jaw dropped, unable to believe his father would say such a thing..

"Fortunately for you, your father plans ahead" continued Duke Uther. "You know that marriage I asked you about? It's already arranged. She and her father are meeting us here–" he pulled out a pocketwatch and glanced at it briefly "–in three minutes."

"What?!" said Arthur.

"Look. I'm not here to negotiate, Arthur," said his father, tone stern, face impassive. "I'm here to command. The deal has already taken place. You are engaged, and you will not disrespect your fiancee and dishonor our house by refusing! I command it."

"I'm not your subject!" said Arthur, furious at his father's steamrolling. "I don't have to take your commands!"

"Oh yes you do," said his father. "You're my only son. You know that I won't disinherit you, but don't think that means I don't have any power over you. I may not frequently engage with the politics of the continent, but I made many contacts while campaigning alongside its nobility in the Great Crusade. I don't voice my opinions often, but when I do, people listen. This girl, Robin? All I have to say are a few words in the right ears and her reputation will be destroyed. The nobility is already stirring at her sudden rise to power – she's Plegian, and they don't trust her. If you do not go along with this engagement, trust that I will stir them into a frenzy. Robin will be destroyed."

Arthur was speechless. He had never known his father to act like this. His father was certainly a strong and intelligent man, but he had never been cruel. Even despite his experiences in the crusade, he had always been empathetic to Plegians. He had once told Arthur that the Plegians' only crime was being born on the wrong side of the mountains. Why is he doing this?

"You have two options," said his father. "Option 1: Continue your foolish relationship and force me to destroy Robin. Option 2: Trust your father and marry the woman I have chosen. You think you love this girl? If you really loved her, you would realize that the only way to protect her is to let her go."

Suddenly his father broke his stern tone, allowing emotion to slip into his voice. "Arthur, I'm your father," he said, voice tender. "I love you more than anyone in this world. Your happiness is what I want most. Please… just trust me. I wouldn't be doing any of this if it weren't the best thing for you."

"You think you know what's best for me better than I do?" asked Arthur.

"Yes," responded his father flatly. Suddenly something behind Arthur's shoulder caught his father's attention. The duke stood, signaling covertly with his hand for Arthur to do the same. He spoke loudly, throwing his voice to whoever had just arrived. "Duke Castor! A pleasure to see you! And this lovely young woman must be your daughter!"

Arthur stood, turning to face the approaching people. His father was shaking hands with a middle-aged man. Behind him stood a woman in a dress, long gray hair streaming down her shoulders. She was looking down at her feet, arms out as she balanced precariously on a set of high heels. Dressed as she was, Arthur didn't recognize her until she found her balance and looked up. They made eye contact, both of their jaws dropping.

"Sumia?" he asked, mouth agape.

"Arthur?" she responded, equally shocked.

"You two know each other?" asked Arthur's father.

"Sumia is in the Shepherds," explained Arthur.

"So you're already friends – perfect!" said his father. "Arthur, I don't believe you have been introduced to Duke Castor."

"A pleasure," said Arthur, extending his hand. His mouth and body ran through the formalities by instinct, but his mind was screaming. Sumia? What the fuck? My father has us engaged?

"Duke Castor is lord of Talys, and Lady Sumia is his seventh daughter," explained his father. He turned, addressing both Arthur and Sumia now. "Although we see each other infrequently, Castor and I have been friends for the last thirty years. We exchange correspondence frequently, and we both think that two people of your temperaments will make a perfect couple."

Arthur tried to exchange a glance with Sumia to gauge her reaction to all of this, but she was looking intently at the ground, ears red. Guess I can't expect much help from her. "People of our temperaments?" he asked.

Duke Castor responded. "You both love reading, do you not? You are both members of the Shepherds, meaning you care about the protection of the Halidom's common people. Your father even told me you had a fondness for pegasi in your youth, Arthur. You strike me as a fine young man for my little Sumy." Sumia was still looking at the ground, ears becoming increasingly red the longer her father spoke.

Oh gods. "This is all happening very quickly," said Arthur. "It's… a lot to process. Perhaps your graces might give Sumia and I a chance to talk in private?"

"Of course," responded Arthur's father. "Shall we allow them a moment, Castor?"

"Certainly," responded the other duke. He gave Sumia what might have been a supportive pat on the shoulder and the two dukes departed, conversing in hushed tones. In short order, Arthur and Sumia were alone.

Arthur sat down, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Sumia sat across from him, eyes fixed on her hands which rested in her lap. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. "When did you find out about this?" asked Arthur.

"About the engagement? This morning," said Sumia. "That it was you? When I walked in."

"Same here," he said. Arthur had been brainstorming ways to get out of this engagement since his father had informed him of it, but he could see no way around his father's threat to Robin. Maybe he's bluffing. I'm sure he could destroy Robin's reputation, but would he really? Or is he just saying that so I do what he wants? Arthur would have called the bluff if it had been a threat against himself, but with the threat being against Robin he wasn't sure that he could afford to. Maybe Sumia will know what to do. "So… what are we going to do about this?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"How are we going to get out of this?" he asked. "I mean, you're interested in Chrom, right? And I'm interested in Robin."

"I don't think I can get out of this," said Sumia. "I initially objected, but Father told me that… if I didn't… he would disinherit me. He told me that…" Her voice trembled, and paused a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "He told me that daughters of Talys do their duty, and that if I wasn't going to do my duty to our family then I wouldn't be part of the family. He told me I'd never see my mother or my little sisters again."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" asked Arthur, burning with anger at the thought. Her father said that to her? What sort of father would say something like that? His lip curled as he remembered the threat his own father had made. "Jeez, I thought my situation was bad. Like I told you earlier, he can't disinherit me, but my father told me that if I didn't go through with this he would destroy Robin's reputation."

Sumia frowned. "What does your father care about Robin?"

"That's the thing. I don't know!" said Arthur. "He said something about her being Plegian and a commoner, but he's never said things like that before. I think he just wants me to do what he says. He knows that there's nothing he can do to threaten me directly, so he's threatening Robin."

Sumia put her hands on the table, rubbing them together idly. "So we're both being forced into this?" she said.

"Looks that way," said Arthur, sighing. "Quite a pair of fathers we have, huh?" Arthur laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Sumia joined in after a second. Maybe it was the intense stress of the morning, but before long both of them were in fits of laughter. After a while of this they recovered their composure. Arthur poured Sumia a cup of tea and took a sip from his own cup of coffee.

"So," he said. "We need a plan. Our fathers ambushed us with this, but we still have options."

"What options?" said Sumia, clearly nervous at the notion. "Arthur, I don't want to lose my family or my inheritance. And… y'know… I like Chrom, but… I don't think marrying you would be the worst thing in the world."

"Not the worst thing in the world?" said Arthur, raising an eyebrow. "I'm flattered. I don't think marrying you would be the worst thing in the world either – I just…ugh!" He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and slammed a hand into the table. "I just hate not having a choice! I want to show my father that he can't control me."

"I know," she said, putting a comforting hand on his. "But… is resisting worth the risk? Maybe we should just… accept it? Like I said… I don't really mind…"

"No, Sumia!" said Arthur, grabbing her hand tightly. "You deserve better than to settle! You deserve a choice! We both do! And I have a plan for how we can get it."

"Okay Arthur," said Sumia, taking another deep breath. "What's the plan?"

"First, we need to stall," he said. "The more time we can give ourselves, the better. What our fathers forget is that we aren't powerless. If we have time, we can maneuver ourselves into positions where they can't control us."

"Positions where they can't control us?" asked Sumia. "Like what?"

"Well… what does your timetable look like on seducing Chrom?" said Arthur. "Do you think you could seduce him within the month?"

Sumia sputtered at the questions. "Well… I'm not sure. I gave him a rhubarb pie about two days ago, and I was planning on giving him a second one within the month."

Arthur pursed his lips, trying to restrain a smile. He still could not believe that someone who had read so many romance novels could be so bad at conducting romance herself. "Have you considered any seduction techniques that are a little more… I don't know… direct? More direct than giving him a rhubarb pie? I mean, are you trying to be his lover or his personal chef? Or is 'giving him a rhubarb pie' some sort of euphemism you guys have on the continent?"

Sumia shielded her eyes with her hand, face going red. From this reaction, Arthur sensed that it was not a euphemism – it made him feel a little bad for the ribbing, honestly. Gods, this doesn't look good. Sumia can hardly talk about Chrom – how the hell is she possibly going to seduce him? "Well…" he said, trying to cover a grimace. "There are… a lot of steps between giving someone a pie and getting married to them. Maybe Chrom isn't the answer to this problem." He saw Sumia's shoulders slacken, some of the tension hopefully leaving them.

"Still, stalling will help," said Arthur, transitioning topics. "The more Robin can prove herself in the war council, the less her reputation will be at stake. Plus, the longer we fight in this war the more opportunities we have to curry favor with Emmeryn – your father won't be able to disinherit you if you're friends with the Exalt. Actually, Phila is friends with the Exalt, right? Aren't you friendly with her? Would she help us?"

"Well, I wouldn't say friendly," responded Sumia. "I'm a pegasus knight and she's the head of the pegasus knights. She's pretty far above my paygrade. I'd say we're acquaintances. Although she did give me an order once, actually! When I was a trainee she once gave me her lance and told me to take it to the smithy for sharpening… but that was like… about six years ago? I don't think we've spoken directly since."

Again, Arthur had to struggle to restrain a smile. "So Phila – probably not an option," he agreed. "Still, the more time we spend in the Shepherds the closer we get with Chrom. And close with Chrom is basically close with Emmeryn, right? Plus, we'll be fighting in the upcoming war. Our fathers won't be able to do anything to us if we can become heroes of the Halidom."

"I suppose," agreed Sumia skeptically. "Still…"

Arthur squeezed her hand. "Don't worry Sumia," he said. "We'll get out of this."

"Okay," she said quietly. She seemed like she had more to say, but she volunteered no further information. It was just as well she didn't, because their fathers were just returning to the courtyard. Arthur removed his hand from Sumia's – he didn't want his father to see and think Arthur approved of his matchmaking. Duke Uther pulled Arthur aside – Sumia's father did the same with her.

"So you two have talked," said his father, smiling broadly. "And you approve of the match?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Arthur answered anyway, hoping to gather some information for himself. "We want to know when we're going to marry."

"Before the end of the month," said his father.

"Impossible," said Arthur swiftly. "We're at war! We have no idea where we'll be a month from now. How about six months?"

"You can have an informal ceremony wherever you are. One month, and that's final," said his father, still smiling. The smile infuriated Arthur. "Do you think I was born yesterday, Arthur? Everything you know about scheming I taught you. If I were you, I would want to stall, give myself time to enact a scheme of my own. I'd have to be a fool to give you that time."

Arthur stewed for a moment, frustrated by how accurately his father had read his intentions. As he did so his father continued speaking. "I would, however, consider extending the engagement if you were to agree to a compromise," said his father.

"What kind of compromise?" said Arthur.

"Distance yourself from this Robin," responded his father. "Arthur, I know you're probably angry with me right now. You probably want to spite me. But please, just trust your father. Do as I say. Someday you will look back on these events and thank me."

"Father, I would trust you if you just explain why this is necessary!" said Arthur. "What's wrong with Robin? If you just met her I'm sure you would reconsider!"

"I'm sure I will meet her in the upcoming war councils," said his father. "It will not change my mind. Would you just trust that I want what is best for you?"

"There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?" said Arthur. "Your whole demeanor changed when I told you about Robin. Why? What aren't you telling me?"

"She's a Plegian, Arthur!" shouted his father, suddenly bursting his ordinarily calm demeanor. "She's either a liar and a Plegian spy or an amnesiac with no family and no history! Either way, she isn't someone you should be consorting with! I will hear no more of this! You will obey!"

"Obey?" said Arthur, not believing his ears. Frustration boiling over, he turned and stalked out of the courtyard. Unfortunately for his father, obedience was not a virtue that Arthur possessed.

That evening Arthur found himself at the door of Robin's quarters. He had spent most of the day training, hoping he could take out his frustration on the training dummies in the Shepherds' training yard. Unfortunately the training had done nothing to resolve his frustration – imagining he was bashing up his father had been only temporarily therapeutic. He had tried to restrain his thoughts, but it was impossible. They kept going in circles. I want to be with Robin. But being with Robin could hurt Robin. So I shouldn't be with her. But I want to be. Eventually this circular thinking had become too much and Arthur had found himself going to Robin's room. If anyone will know what to do, it'll be her.

Arthur knocked on the door. "Robin?" he asked. "I have that book you wanted to talk about." A few Shepherds were lying around the barracks, so Arthur had come up with a reason to be alone with Robin.

She opened the door, and Arthur did a double-take. She was wearing her robe, as always, but only a nightgown underneath it. It was the first time Arthur had seen her in such an outfit – her normal outfit was fairly conservative, covering practically every inch of her body but her face and neck. This outfit ended at her thigh, exposing all the skin below. "Ooh, you have the book?" she said. Her tone, projected to the others in the room, was friendly, platonic. Her expression, visible only to Arthur, was lascivious. "Well, come on in." Arthur did so, closing the door behind him.

No sooner had he done so than Robin was on him, pulling him into the room and pushing him down onto the bed. All thought of his father and his betrothal were gone from Arthur's mind as Robin crawled on top of him, hands pressing his shoulders down against the mattress. "Do you like my outfit?" she whispered, face hovering over his.

"I love it," said Arthur, matching her whispered volume. "Although I'm sure you'd also look good without it."

Robin rolled her eyes and adopted a mocking tone,eyes glimmering. "You dare say such a thing to a lady?" she asked, mocking the chivalric demeanor of the Ylissean court. "Might you have designs on my precious maidenhood, you scoundrel?"

"Never," said Arthur, going along with the jest. "I would never dishonor your ladyship so."

"I should hope not," responded Robin. "I don't enjoy being dishonored by the actions of others." Her voice turned sultry as she lowered her face closer to his. He could feel her breath on his lips. "I prefer to earn my dishonor myself." Holy shit.

Robin leaned down, kissing Arthur forcefully. Releasing her hands from his shoulders, she wrapped them around his neck. Shoulders now free, Arthur slipped his arms around Robin's back, outside her nightgown but inside her cloak. He trailed his hands slowly down Robin's back as they kissed until finally cupping them around her ass and giving a light squeeze.

"Nngh," Robin moaned into his mouth. "Arthur." Hearing her moan his name sent a shiver of excitement jolting through every inch of Arthur's body. Emboldened, he turned the tables on Robin, rolling in the bed to place her under him – she giggled excitedly at the motion but kept her mouth latched to his. Keeping one hand on the small of her back, Arthur brought the other her midriff, then down until he felt the bare skin of her thigh, warm and soft beneath his fingertips. He dimly recognized that Robin had slipped her hands under his clothes, pressing them against the bare small of his back. Desperate to reciprocate, he gently brought his hand up, slipping it beneath the silky fabric of Robin's nightgown and sliding slowly up her thigh.

"Wait," said Robin, detaching her lips from Arthur's and putting a halting hand on his. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was heavy. "We can't go any further yet. I want it too, but if we go any further… I don't think I'll be able to stop… and I can't risk getting pregnant, with the war and everything. And we can't do this all night anyway – I have another war council tomorrow just after dawn."

Arthur rolled off of her, sprawling onto her bed. He needed something to distract him – for the first time since entering, Arthur took stock of his surroundings. Robin's room was spacious, complete with a queen-sized bed, a wall of bookcases, and a desk. It reminded him of his room back on Pyrath. "Gods I hate sleeping in a barracks," said Arthur, rolling onto his side to look at Robin. "What do I have to do to get a room like this?"

"They don't just give them to anyone," she said, rolling over to mirror his posture. "You have to be someone important. Duke's sons don't qualify."

Duke's son. The words were all it took for Arthur to remember his conversation that morning. His engagement with Sumia. Fuck. He had come here to tell Robin about that and ask for her advice, but being with her now he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Robin was his island, a place he could be that took him far from the real world, and Arthur knew that mentioning his engagement would shatter that place to pieces. Will she even want to stay together? Robin did say she doesn't share. What if I tell her and she walks away? What does she see in me? What if she decides being with me is more trouble than it's worth?

Arthur's expression must have given away the tone of his thoughts – Robin snuggled close to him. "What's wrong?" she asked, perceptive eyes fixed on his face.

"Let me tell you in the morning," said Arthur, pressing his nose into her hair to hide his expression. He had made his decision. He couldn't lie to Robin, but he also couldn't bring himself to disrupt such a comfortable moment. He would tell her in the morning, consequences or no.

"Are you sleeping here?" asked Robin, seemingly content to let the subject drop. "Not very secret, is it?"

"If anyone asks we can say we fell asleep during book club," said Arthur, glancing over at where his book had fallen between the door and the bed. "No one in the Shepherds will care." Arthur spared a thought for Sumia. Except possibly my fiancee. No, we can't think like that. We're getting out of this engagement. "I can wake up and leave before dawn, if that would make you more comfortable."

"No," said Robin, wrapping her arms around him. "I don't want you to leave."

Arthur sensed a seriousness in her tone and was gripped by concern. "Are you still having nightmares?" he asked.

"Yes," Robin admitted reluctantly, burrowing closer. "They've been even more vivid recently. I know they aren't memories, but…" Arthur felt a shiver run through her as she trailed off.

"Well then I suppose I'm obligated to stay here, aren't I?" said Arthur, trying to lighten the mood. "As much as I'd love to fall asleep listening to Stahl's snores, I'll just have to stay here with you."

"You poor thing," said Robin, turning to face away from Arthur and pulling his arms around her.

"Weren't you little spoon last time?" said Arthur.

"I'm the lady, Arthur, and that means I get first dibs on being little spoon," responded Robin, making herself comfortable. "I didn't make the rules."

Arthur sighed good-naturedly and made himself comfortable as well. Whenever his thoughts turned towards his conversation with his father, he pulled Robin closer, focusing on her closeness. For the first time since meeting Robin, Arthur fell asleep quickly.

Arthur didn't know what had woken him. Perhaps it had been a sound, or a light. Perhaps it had been a sixth sense. It was the middle of the night. Robin's room was pitch black, her body soft and warm next to his. The only sounds were Robin's soft snoring and the light pattering of rainfall against the room's single windowpane. Despite the perfect comfort of the environment, Arthur found himself unable to return to sleep. After what seemed like an eternity of lying awake, he decided that a walk might clear his mind. He carefully extricated himself from Robin's sleeping form and made his way quietly across her room, easing the door open and letting himself out into the Shepherds' barracks. Everyone was asleep, thus Arthur made his way quietly out the door.

The shepherds' barracks were housed in the southern wing of the royal palace, for the convenience of Chrom and Lissa. Not knowing why, Arthur found himself retracing the steps he had taken that morning, taking himself to the palace's central courtyard. The hallways of the palace were empty, motionless save for the wild undulation of the torch-flames in their sconces. Unchallenged by any guards along the way, Arthur arrived at the courtyard shortly. In all the hubbub of the morning he had taken no time to appreciate the beauty of the area, a sea of verdant green amidst the gray stone of the palace. Arthur leaned against one of the pillars which ringed the courtyard, looking out as raindrops drummed against the leaves of the trees and thudded against the stone walkways. A chill northerly wind swept against him, misting his face lightly and causing him to pull his cloak around himself. For some reason, the whole scene gave Arthur a disorienting moment of deja vu. Have I done this before?

Suddenly movement caught Arthur's attention, distracting him from his reverie. Someone was moving in the shadows on the opposite edge of the courtyard. Multiple someones. Wearing black. Not guards. Assassins. Adrenaline pulsed through Arthur's system, but he had been well-trained not to panic in moments like these. Careful not to make a sudden motion which might catch their attention, Arthur slipped into the shadow behind the pillar he had been leaning against. Hidden, he took a moment to collect his thoughts.

Assassins. They must be here for Emmeryn. Maybe Chrom and Lissa too. What do I do? His father would tell him to find the Exalt – she would likely be the priority target. Still, another voice in Arthur's head remembered everyone he had left sleeping back in the Shepherds' barracks. Robin. For a moment he saw her as he had left her, snuggled into her bed. In the next moment he saw her blood-soaking the sheets, throat slit by an assassin's blade. It was all he could do not to run back to the barracks. Calm, Arthur. We need to protect Emmeryn. They have no reason to kill Robin.

You don't know that! She's a brilliant tactician working for Ylisse, and she just foiled their plan to take the border fortifications! She's just as much a threat to Plegia as Chrom or Emmeryn. And they probably have royal guards protecting them. Who does Robin have protecting her? I should be there!

Arthur was saved from his conundrum by the sudden ringing of steel. Turning to peer out from behind the pillar, he saw a blue-haired figure standing in the courtyard, Falchion unsheathed, standing over the body of an assassin. Chrom? No, Chrom was standing behind this figure. As he looked closer, Arthur saw that their face was covered with a mask. Marth. As Arthur watched, another assassin lunged out from the bushes. Seemingly taken by surprise, Marth reeled back. As he did so, however, the masked swordsman slipped on the wet grass. The assassin's blade passed within a hair's breadth of Marth's face, knocking his mask away. Seconds later the assassin found himself impaled upon Chrom's Falchion.

Arthur took a few steps into the courtyard, about to call out to Chrom, when he saw Marth stand from where he had fallen. Or, more accurately, where she had fallen. Because, as Arthur stepped forward to look more closely at the rising figure, it became clear that Marth was not, in fact, a man. Where before Marth's hair had seemed short, it now cascaded, dark blue, over her shoulders – she was currently pushing it out of her eyes, where it had fallen when her mask had been knocked from her face. As Arthur watched Marth brushed the hair with her fingers once, revealing most of her face, although her long blue bangs still concealed one of her eyes. Both Arthur and Chrom were speechless.

"Wait… you're a woman?" asked Chrom, dumbfounded.

"And quite the actress, too," responded Marth, her voice having risen to what Arthur realized must be its natural tone. "Honestly, I'm surprised it took you this long to realize." Her eyes narrowed as they flitted from Chrom to where Arthur stood. Arthur remembered the last time he and Marth had spoken, when she had put her sword at his throat and told him she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. Her eyes were only on him for a moment before they flitted to something behind Arthur. He whirled, expecting an assassin. Arthur's hand went to his waist by instinct, and he realized, too late, that he had not thought to bring his sword on his midnight walk. He was only saved by the fact that it was not an assassin behind him. It was Robin.

"Robin?" said Arthur, relief flooding through him as he registered that she wasn't hurt.

"We need to get to Emmeryn," she said, taking no time to explain her presence. Like Arthur, she was unarmed, still dressed only in her robe and nightgown. Sensing her urgency, Arthur nodded. If the assassin's had just gone for Chrom they might have already attacked Emmeryn. There was no time to waste. United in wordless agreement, the group of four sprinted out of the courtyard, into the palace in the direction of Emmeryn's quarters.

As they approached Emmeryn's quarters they passed mounting evidence of a struggle. Several palace guards lay dead along the corridors. Ahead of them they heard the sound of metal clashing against metal.

The door to Emmeryn's chamber had been smashed off its hinges. The smoldering bodies of several assassins lay at the doorstep. Arthur watched as the three others, ahead of him, rounded the corner into the room. He turned into the room last, and was greeted by chaos.

There were more than a dozen people in the room. Eight or so assassins formed a large circle around, harrying some kind of bear-sized beast which seemed to be defending the room's bed. Emmeryn stood on the large canopy bed, one hand on a bedpost, the brand on her forehead glowing intensely. As Arthur watched, her other hand began glowing more and more intensely, until she finally released a bolt of blinding light. One of the assassins was just darting past the beast, approaching Emmeryn's position on the bed – the bolt struck him in the chest, passing clean through and leaving only a smoking, apple-diameter hole behind it. The assassin screamed and collapsed against the mattress.

Swords out, Marth and Chrom waded into the scene. Suddenly the assassins found themselves surrounded. Caught from behind, two assassins were dead on Marth and Chrom's blades before even registering their presence. Robin felled another with a bolt of lightning. Arthur still couldn't produce enough fire to kill, but even non-lethal balls of fire proved excellent for distracting combatants long enough for Marth or Chrom to finish off. With the entrance of Arthur and the others, the odds had suddenly turned against the assassins. Sensing the change in the battle, the beast suddenly went on the attack against the few assassins that remained. It raked its claws deeply through one's torso, and a hit from its strong back legs sent another hurtling into the room's stone wall with a crunch.

Marth pulled her sword out of the final assassin, wiping the blood off her blade with the crimson interior of her cape. Arthur finally had time to closely inspect the creature that had been defending Emmeryn. It seemed like… a bunny? There was no other way to describe it – long ears, flat hind legs, and a whiskered snout gave the creature a decidedly bunny-like appearance, despite it being the size of a grizzly bear. As Arthur watched, the creature's shape suddenly seemed to warp, hair and body receding until it took the shape of a bunny-eared woman. Arthur blushed and looked up at the ceiling when he realized the woman's nether regions were clad only in fur. She didn't seem ashamed, so Arthur imagined it was a cultural difference and managed to look down at her, although he still kept his eyes fixed at head-level.

"Arthur, Marth – stay and guard Emmeryn's door," said Robin, picking up one of the assassin's swords and giving it a few experimental swishes. "Chrom and I will scout the exterior, along with… sorry, what's your name?"

"Panne," responded the bunny-woman.

"And do you have heightened senses in your other form?" asked Robin, apparently unphased by the woman's transformation.

"Heightened hearing and smell, plus better night vision," said Panne frankly. "I will join your scouting, manspawn." Without another word, she transformed back into her beast form and padded out of the room, her ears twitching intensely as she snuffled at the ground.

Arthur felt an urge to object to Robin's division of labor – scouting would be dangerous, and he didn't want Robin to put herself in danger. Still, he restrained himself from saying anything. Robin doesn't need my protection. I just need to trust that her choices are the best plan of action. Thinking it over though, her choice made sense – Robin knew that Marth was a time-traveler. Getting information out of Marth was important to the future of the Shepherds. And Robin would know from their conversation in the ravine that Arthur and Marth had spoken before – it had admittedly not been the friendliest conversation, but he and Marth had some level of rapport. Robin probably wanted Arthur to get some more information. He looked up at her and saw she was giving him a questioning look. Do you understand? said the look. Arthur gave a subtle nod, and Robin gave a pleased smile.

Robin motioned to Chrom and they followed Panne down the palace corridor, leaving Arthur and Marth at the door of Emmeryn's chamber. Inside, Emmeryn was going through the corpses, placing her hand on each one's throat. She was carrying a healing staff – Arthur deduced she must be hoping to heal any survivors. He shook his head for a moment, in disbelief. Trying to heal her assassins? I guess what they say about her is true.

Marth saw his head shake and followed his gaze. "You find the Exalt's mercy foolish?" she asked. From her tone, it was clear that she still held a grudge against him. Why? She didn't talk to Chrom like that.

"I was just surprised," he said. "The Exalt is… inspiring, really. Idealistic, maybe, but inspiring."

"Hmm," grunted Marth. "Of course you would find mercy idealistic. I'm sure you would take the pragmatic route and slit their throats."

"What the hell is your deal?!" burst Arthur. He knew he should be playing it cool, trying to get information out of Marth, but he found the way she treated him incredibly frustrating. "What do you know about me? The only conversation we've had you had a sword at my throat! Now suddenly you're all about mercy? What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," said Marth, voice stern. "We should focus on guarding the door. Not talking."

A few minutes of silence passed. No assassins appeared, and Arthur decided to give conversation another try.

"So… you're a woman," he said. "How about that?"

Marth did not respond.

"Okay, not my best conversation starter," he admitted. "How about this – what year is it where you're from?"

She still did not respond.

"Okay, no small talk. Understood," he said. Arthur let a moment of silence pass before continuing, enjoying the challenge of trying to elicit a response. "So why do you conceal your identity? Wait – could someone here recognize you? Is there another version of you here?"

Marth turned and glared at him, not answering. It wasn't speech, but it was a response, and Arthur latched onto the subject of her identity. "You have Falchion – you must have a Brand of Naga, I suppose," he continued, thinking out loud. "Related to the royal family? That would explain the blue hair. You speak modern Ylissean, so you couldn't possibly be from the era of Marth, or even the First Exalt, and you also can't be from too far in the future. What are you, Chrom's ancestor? His descendent? A female version of him – Chromina?"

"Is this a joke to you?" she asked him suddenly, voice flaring with anger. "If you had seen a fraction of what I have, you wouldn't be in the mood to joke!"

Arthur went silent. He regretted making fun of her – even so, it had prompted a response, which was what he had been hoping for. He had gotten more information – now he needed to try for more. "I'm sorry," he said, tone becoming earnest. "Marth… the Shepherds aren't your enemy. Maybe if you told us…about what you've seen…we could help you prevent it in this timeline?"

Marth seemed caught off-guard by the change in tone. She was silent for a moment. "No," she finally said. "I'm sorry if I… offended you. Maybe you care about this timeline. Maybe you don't. That's the problem, really – no one here can be trusted. No one except the royal family. If you really care about this timeline, I will only share one piece of advice. Trust no one."

Arthur considered the advice for a moment. "Sounds like a lonely way to live," he finally said.

Marth looked away, jaw tightening slightly. She didn't respond.

The sound of footsteps in the hall to their right shook them from their awkward silence. Marth drew Falchion and Arthur readied a ball of fire, but it was just Chrom and Robin. They looked as though they had just been in a fight. Chrom had his left hand pressed against his right bicep, which was looking abnormally gray and withered. "Emmeryn?" asked Robin, breathless. Arthur pointed inside the room, where Emmeryn was kneeling next to an assassin who she had propped up against the wall – she must have found one alive. Now she turned, registering in a moment that Chrom had been injured, and motioned for him to lie on her bed. Chrom lay down and Emmeryn began attending to him.

Assured that Chrom was being treated, Robin turned to Arthur. Her hair was askew and her eyes were guarded. "We took care of a few more assassins," she said. "But the leader – a dark mage – he hit Chrom with a spell." Robin hesitated a moment, as though considering saying more, but evidently reconsidered.

"Okay," said Arthur, turning towards Marth. "We had no trouble here. We just–" He cut himself off as he noticed that Marth was not where she had been standing when Robin and Chrom had appeared. He looked around, but the blue-haired swordswoman was nowhere to be seen. She must have slipped off. "I guess Marth didn't want to stick around."

With the topic having turned to Marth, Robin pulled Arthur into the hallway and spoke in a hushed tone. "Did you get anything new out of her?"

"She's not much of a sharer," said Arthur, hesitant. He relayed their conversation to Robin.

"Hmmm," said Robin, digesting the new information. "That phrase – 'if you had seen a fraction of what I had' – seems to support the idea that she's from the future. So if she's related to Chrom she's probably a descendant of him or Emmeryn or Lissa. Probably him, given how similar their combat styles. But really, we can't deduce much more without knowing how the time-travel worked. How different is her timeline? Where do the differences start? Were there alternate versions of us?" Robin made a frustrated noise. "We just know so little."

"Wait… alternate versions of us?" said Arthur. Robin's brow furrowed – the notion seemed to concern her. The notion concerned him as well.

"That could explain her hostility towards me," continued Arthur, thinking out loud. "But what could my alternate version have done to her? We're both on the same side, and I'm not really the type of person who makes a lot of enemies. Could I have a different personality in her timeline?"

"There's no use speculating without more information," said Robin, her tone final. "I would just cross your fingers for another dream for Dialga. They've got some explaining to do." She turned to go back into Emmeryn's room, but before she could Arthur grabbed her hand.

"Wait," he said, pulling her to the side of the door, out of view of Emmeryn and Chrom. Robin was giving him a questioning look – he silenced the look by pulling her into a tight embrace. It was a different embrace than any they had had previously – not passionate, simply affectionate and protective – a tight hug, channeling the worry Arthur had felt when he had first seen the assassins and thought of Robin lying dead in her bed. "I'm glad you're alright," he said softly. "I know you're strong…but I still worried."

Robin leaned against his chest, butting her head affectionately into his chin. "Worry about yourself, dummy," she said. "But… I'm glad you're alright too." Arthur couldn't help but smile hearing it. Somehow, hearing that Robin worried about him, acknowledging a mutual emotional attachment, felt more intimate than anything they had previously done.

Arthur let Robin go, and as she walked away he felt a seed of worry growing inside him again. Should I be getting more attached to her? What if my father wasn't really bluffing? What if he really would destroy her? It was just too much for Arthur to think about. Not only had Dialga lumped the fate of the world on his shoulders – now his father was telling him that he couldn't be with the one source of support he had found. To hell with father. I'm not giving Robin up.

Arthur wandered through the hallways of the palace, making his way once more to the central courtyard. Dawn had arrived, and the rain had stopped. Droplets of water gleamed on every leaf and blade of grass, reflecting the light of the rising sun.

Robin sidled up next to Arthur, having evidently finished her business with Chrom. She leaned against his side as they both took in the beautiful scene. "It's morning," said Robin quietly. "Weren't you going to tell me something?"

"Oh yeah," said Arthur. When they had gone to sleep, he had been planning on telling her about his engagement. "I just wanted to tell you… that I'm really glad we're on the same side in all this."

She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes so that she could bask her face in the growing sunlight.

"So am I."

(Author's Note: I told you there would be drama, did I not? I'm basically writing a Fire Emblem-themed soap opera at this point. Domineering parents, arranged marriages, secret love affairs, assassins, conflict between love and duty – we've got it all, and guess what? We're just getting started. That's not even mentioning the most shocking reveal of the chapter – Marth is a girl?! Whaaat?! SHOCKING REVEAL! Every reader was caught by surprise, I'm sure. And did you notice that an assassin survived? I wonder who? I'll give you a hint – their name starts with a g and doesn't quite rhyme with Prius.

Also a seriousish note – I'm not a smut writer, but I'm also not a puritan. There will definitely be sex in this story, because (for me at least) it is an essential component of romantic intimacy. Plus, it's another opportunity for drama, which is the essential purpose of this work. I'll figure out some way to delineate sex scenes so people who are uncomfy with them can skip easily skip past them. Maybe I'll even have a TS;DR (too sexual, didn't read) after the scenes to summarize plot-relevant information.

You also might have noticed some creative liberties I've taken with the plot. For instance, the assassination. In the game, it's a battle with all of the Shepherds, but does that really make sense? Assassinations aren't battles, they're sudden unpredictable attacks. I think having it a little smaller and quicker not only makes more sense, it makes it more tense. Another thing you might have noticed is that we didn't see Robin's interaction with Validar. Did it happen? What was said? Arthur doesn't know, and a key element of this story (and life in general, from my philosophical perspective) is that all of the characters are reasoning from monstrously incomplete sets of information. They, like all of us, are products of their environments, trying their best despite being doomed to an inherently incomplete and positional understanding of the world.

Song: Daddy Issues – The Neighborhood)