15. Role Reversal
The stranger makes for a pitiful sight, laying crumbled amongst the desert sands. It's enough to halt Robin in her tracks, and send her vaulting off her pegasus. The stranger gives a weak stir as the wings of her pegasus trace over his face, interrupting the moonlight and drawing shadows across his skin. His eyes crack open, and Robin pauses for a moment, over how vividly blue they are.
"The desert isn't the best place to be taking a nap." She tells him, throwing her cape back over her shoulders from where the landing knocked it astray. The stranger blinks at her, looking dazed and confused. And she can't very well leave him alone in the sands; even with the light and heat going wane, she doubts they're very comfortable. So Robin extends her hand to him. He looks at her from beneath the cowl of his hood for only a moment, before accepting it.
"Th-thanks, Robin." He says as he takes her hand. Robin's eyes widen at that, and how he knows her name. And that means he has to know who she is-
At last, that's what she thinks, until Chrom glances down at her hand, and the violet brand emblazoned on it. He looks at her mark for a moment… But there's no recognition in his eyes. No widening, no awe or fear… Just a curious look, as he regards the six eyed mark.
"You know my name… But you don't know my mark?" He frowns at that, shaking his head.
"I-I'm honestly still working on figuring out just who you are. I just… Know your name. And that I can-" He goes redder than a sunburn. "…That I can trust you."
Robin pauses with pulling him up, and settles instead for giving him a surprised blink.
"You… Trust me?" Fear and respect she is well used to… But not so much trust. "Well, thank you…?"
The stranger brushes at his hood as he speaks, showing a shock of blue hair underneath the heavy cowl.
"Ch-Chrom. My name is Chrom." He tells her, and Robin almost drops his hand from shock. He might not know much… But she recognizes the name.
'The Prince of Ylisse.' The stitching on one side of his robe has come undone, the popped seam showing his bare shoulder and a familiar brand; one that her father has insisted she learn the details of, and learn to hate it on sight. Yet now that she sees him in person, all her mind can manage is confusion.
"I know that much at least." Chrom tells her, but there's still no recognition in his eyes. No realization of how ground shaking his identity is. "A-and sorry but… Where is this exactly? Beyond being a desert?"
"You… Don't know where you are, or how you got here? This is Plegia."
Chrom frowns at that. Like he just barely recognizes the name, and the silvery sand dunes around them.
"I… Don't really know." He finally admits, dipping his head and almost tensing in shame. "I don't remember… Much of anything. Outside of your name."
Robin wants to press him for more… But the rustling of feathers overhead cuts her off. She and Chrom look up at the same time, to see black winged pegasi winging around them. Feathered wings obscure the moonlight, as her escort comes into land.
-o-o-o-
Chrom stares at the riders, all gathering in a ring around him and Robin; some circle overhead unnervingly like vultures, while others stand as sentinels facing inwards. There seems to be recognition in their expressions, like they know who he is… Even if Chrom himself isn't very sure of who he is.
What he IS sure about, is that he doesn't care for those venomous glares he's getting. Robin puts herself in front of him, trying to shield him from the harsh, hateful looks. One of the riders swings off the saddle of her black pegasus, her white hair tangling in the night breeze, and she smooths out her shadowy clothing.
"…Prince Chrom." She says. And he goes slack from the title. He certainly doesn't FEEL like a prince, laying confused on the sands. And his paralysis makes it easy for the pegasus and wyvern riders to surge forward and clap binds around him.
"Aversa! S-stop!" If he's still stunned, then Robin finds her breath, and the ability to object. The leader of the riders shakes her head.
"It's not very often that we find a sworn enemy on our doorstep. And it's not our call to decide what to do with him." At Chrom's bewildered blink, she continues. "…That decision belongs to Validar. And he'll have some interesting reactions to YOU. Considering what your father did to us."
She turns her ire to Chrom, and any measured quality to her words drops away.
He wants to ask more, but the hard light in Aversa's eyes snuffs out his curiosity. Instead he gets thrown into the saddle of a wyvern, driving breath and consciousness out of him…
…Until at last, they reach a palace. One built from the bones of ancient creatures, crowned by a massive skull that looks as though it could swallow the moon. The sight of it freezes Chrom. As does the figure in regal dark robes, stepping from the shadow of castle and bones. The man cuts a sharp, commanding figure as he glares at Chrom… And he gets the feeling he's looking at Validar. And that this man is the leader of this nation.
"Naga's scion…" Validar hisses out, narrowing his eyes. And Chrom in turn tries to speak… But there's still a fatigue clinging to him, clouding his thoughts. There's still blanks in his head, and Validar seems determined to fill those spaces up with his own bile. "To think, after years of war, you show up on my own doorstep. To complete my dominion…" The glare fades out. But Chrom doesn't much care for the sharp edged grin that takes its place. "I couldn't ask for a more pleasant surprise."
-o-o-o-
She watches them take Chrom away, a few more chains added onto him, and to make him further slump.
"You surprise me, daughter. Pleasantly so." Validar tells her.
Somehow, her father's praise rings hollow in Robin's ears. When Validar gives her a proud and feral smile, that dims compared to the shock and look of loss on Chrom's face. She can only turn her back on the entire affair, knowing that her father's welcome won't be very gentle on the lost prince.
"…Robin!" Validar still snaps at her, trying to hold her in place.
"I… I apologize. I feel a fatigue coming over me." Is all she tells him, before staggering off. She goes to the throne room, letting the sweeping arches of the palace close over her. But even if she can outpace her father's speeches, she still can't leave her own thoughts behind.
'What happens, when Naga's Scion is killed? Does that mean Grima will be ascendant? And you…' She looks to the mark on her hand… And feels her stomach twist.
In time, rumors filter their way into the swirling court and aristocracy gathered there; that Validar intends to kill his new captive on the morrow, as a sacrifice to Grima. So many in the castle track down Robin, giving her praise for finding the scion, congratulating her for her upcoming ascendance… And all of it pushes that sick feeling further into Robin's throat and stomach.
It makes her retreat deeper into the halls… But even then, she can't seem to escape the company of others. Robin all but jumps when a shadow detaches from one of the pillars, and walks towards her.
The stranger doesn't have the look of a Plegian soldier or courtier. But there's an odd echo of Robin's own lordly clothing in the figure's appearance… Though Robin has never needed to wear such an elaborate mask over her face.
"Robin." The figure says, forgoing titles and formalities like all the others. "Are you going to leave him to such a fate?"
'…This is a first.' The detached part of Robin notes; to be questioned, rather than put up on a pedestal. Maybe that's why she gapes at the stranger instead of raising an alarm, or demanding the figure's identity.
"…You're not Plegian." Robin says, knowing that's an obvious statement. "Should I be worried?"
"I… I hope not." Says the stranger, hesitating for a moment, a softness taking the edge of their voice. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you really going to leave him to rot in a dungeon, and die?"
It's unnerving how this stranger echoes the thoughts going on her own head.
"I think… I think you know that standing idle and doing nothing is wrong." Now the stranger switches to a softer voice, and only watches Robin through the corners of their mask, as they look around the castle. "I also think this is… The wrong place, for both of you."
Bold words, Robin thinks, as she stares at the stranger.
"And I know he'll see daylight again. But… If you don't find it in your heart to free him, I will." The stranger tells Robin, and she can feel the gaze behind that mask; both imploring, and authoritative. The candles along the wall burn a little brighter… And she can pick out faint glints of blue in the stranger's hair. It all reminds her of the prince locked away. And it also reminds her of how she'd felt, when she spoke with him.
'You don't want to see him die.' Her thoughts provide. She doesn't say anything more to the stranger… But the resolute look her face, and the way she wheels around and marches towards the dungeons likely says enough.
-o-o-o-
Chrom doesn't seem to understand just what's going on, when she approaches his cell. Even when she melts the links of his chains with bolts of lightning, he can still only stare at Robin. He remains startled and silent as she rushes him out of the castle, sneaking along the shadows of the halls, and spending more than a little time pressed tight together. When they finally flee, Robin finds herself compelled to speak, to help fill the silence. To try and explain a little of the madness to Chrom.
"You're of Ylisse. You HAVE to be." She tells him, snapping the reins of her pegasus. "That's the nation opposite of Plegia. Or at least… What's left of it."
"Wh… Why? What happened?"
"War. One driven by zealous fervor without quarter given on either side." She looks over her shoulder and watches his expression carefully; first blank, then scrunching up as worry dawns on him. "…Ylisse was all but wiped out. Her soldiers are scattered, her great cities broken, her leadership… Thought to be dead. But that clearly isn't the case."
Chrom slumps against her, all of his energy drained just like that.
She wonders what it's like to discover one has no home to return to.
"Plegia… I remember someone… Telling me once. That Plegia is home to a dark dragon." Chrom forces himself to speak, to grasp onto something.
"…Grima." Robin finishes. "Opposite of Ylisse's divine protector, Naga. Though both dragons sleep now, try as Plegia does to rouse theirs." Her hand balls into a fist… And she finds herself urging the pegasus onwards and faster. Further away from the dark kingdom, and out into the endless dunes.
Out there, there's no doomsday cult. No priests and soldiers shouting praises and expectations. Just miles of open sky… And perhaps, if she travels far enough, another kingdom.
-o-o-o-
They find more than broken buildings, as they flee across the desert. There's still sparks of resistance gathering in the fields of Ylisse, beyond the eyes of the Plegian garrison.
Though their first encounter with the Ylisseans isn't the best. Even if they don't recognize her as Plegia's princess, the violet of her garb is still enough to mark her as an enemy. And the long cape swirling around her shoulders still shows her rank, as someone important to Plegia.
A prize to either capture or eliminate.
She's never fought a true battle before. Skirmishes and practices yes… And once on her 18th year, she was permitted into a tourney fought under the shadow of dragon bones. But never a true battle, where the stakes are living and a red stained demise. When she first hears the war cries, the howls for her blood… She freezes.
But even as she's paralyzed, her eyes take in the battle field; the rolling hills and thick grasses, and the old ruined church and bell tower crowning the field. A good place to make a stand; she sends her pegasus flying towards it, while Chrom clings onto her.
"I-I have a hunch this isn't how people are normally welcomed in Ylisse." Chrom tells her, as the pegasus alights on the roof.
"I don't know, I'd say this tracks with everything my father told me." Robin grumbles, going for her spell book, and tossing an old sword and scabbard to Chrom; an old artifact that she looted from the dungeons. It had the look of a Ylissean blade, something that could have belonged to the lost prince.
She just doesn't anticipate having to use it against Ylisseans.
Chrom throws back the cowl of his navy hood with one hand, drawing the blade with the other. His feet slide down the roof, taking him closer to the troops…
…Only to have their cries dimmed.
One of the soldiers throws her hand out, her blonde hair snapping from the motion. And her eyes stay fixed on Chrom. There's something about that look makes Robin drop her book, and Chrom sheath the blade.
"Oh gods… It's you! You made it back you… You…" The girl is babbling now, staggering towards Chrom. "You absolute DOLT!"
And confused as she is by this new welcome, Robin is thankful that there won't be any bloodshed.
-o-o-o-
That lack of bloodshed stretches out across days and then weeks. Chrom struggles to remember his countrymen… And kin in the case of the leader of the band, Lissa. And as the time stretches by, that band grows.
More scattered soldiers slowly join their ranks. And Chrom manages to keep them all from venting their ire on Robin. And every time they meet another Ylissean, he tells them the same thing; that he's only alive because of her.
It… Oddly warms her heart, when she hears that.
Sometimes she sees flickers of the masked figure; it happens more and more frequently, after the first border clash with the Plegians happens. That had been the lowest point in Robin's life; seeing the dismay and confusion on the faces of her countrymen, when they saw her amongst the ranks of the resistance.
But she can't forget their own war cries; their screams to crush any rebellion, to offer their heart's blood up to Grima (and how the mark on her hand burned at that) and… How enraged they were, when they saw Chrom. He's taken to wearing his hood down, showing his face to the world; maybe in the hopes that the wane sunlight will rattle something loose in his head. But it also drives a madness into the Plegian forces; knowing that the lost prince has slipped from their grasp once, and ready to do anything to put him back under Validar's control.
'And put YOU back under his hold.' That thought drives her to fight, no matter how her stomach may turn at the notion. And as Robin quickly discovers, she has an aptitude for spells; and to see the way a battle might flow. Chrom seems to share that odd intuition, with how he's always wherever he needs to be on the battlefield. The same as the blue haired stranger, always showing up wherever she needs to be when a battle is almost lost.
It all gives Robin the strength to keep fighting on.
And as a consequence, with their days filled with either meeting remnants of the resistance, or clashing with Plegia… It's easy enough for her to collapse and sleep, as the sun goes down.
One night she wakes from strange dreams; dreams of walking through unfamiliar castles and somehow feeling at home among their alabaster and marble halls.
It takes a moment of laying in place, to figure out what had awakened her. Gradually she realizes where they are; back in the ruined church, their rough base of operations. Space is at a premium in the old building, making them all bunk close together.
Across the floor from her, Chrom tosses and turns in his sleep, giving a strange sobbing noise. Hearing it, Robin moves on reflex. Her hands touch his shoulders, right as his eyes fly open and he stares at her.
"I-I'm sorry…" He wheezes, but his eyes are still oddly cloudy and sleep fogged. His nightmares still cling to him, and it takes Chrom a moment to blink them away.
"Robin… Oh thank the gods." He falls back, breath shuddering in and out.
"You were having a nightmare." She tells him, and finds herself smoothing out his hair and bangs.
"Gods…" Chrom whispers out. "I hope that never happens to me again." He stares at her face, like he needs to make certain she's alright.
"What… Exactly did you dream about?" Robin finds herself asking.
"You were right, that it was a nightmare. I… In my dreams, I kill-" he can't even finish the words, glancing away with a shiver. There's an odd cold feeling settling in Robin's stomach at that.
"…Maybe that's your mind, reminding you of what you SHOULD be doing." She hates herself for saying that. Hates the wounded look on his face even more; he hesitates as though he was just struck.
"What… What are you talking about?" Chrom whispers. "I-I could never…"
"Chrom… We're meant to be enemies." Robin brings her hand up, feeling her skin burn as she does so.
"You might not remember. But that brand on your arm marks you as the scion, the chosen of Naga."
"The… The divine dragon." Chrom murmurs, showing that he remembers that much.
"And… Don't you remember what this means?" She's never hated having to show her brand. Or felt like it was something to be ashamed of. But lately the mark has felt more and more like a blemish; as she spends more time in Ylisse, she's found herself wearing gloves, hiding the mark. She's been afraid of the reactions of the Ylisseans; that they'd see her as an abomination, if they knew what else she was.
Yet there isn't any disgust on Chrom's features. Instead Chrom puts his hand gently over hers, closing his fingers over the mark.
"…Do we… Need to be enemies, though?" He whispers. "Because when I saw you for the first time, I didn't feel any hate, or disgust or… Anything like that. I just felt like I could trust you."
His thumbs linger over her hand for a moment, like he's trying to press and ease the words into her.
"I… I still DO. Even with everything that's happened. Or maybe… ESPECIALLY with everything that's happened."
She wants to protest that; there's plenty of reasons why he shouldn't trust her. And yet, she also remembers the risks she's taken for him; spiriting him out of Plegia, into Ylisse, and staying at his side all through the conflict.
And now, she finds it almost impossible to move away from him.
-o-o-o-
Their forces slowly grow in number. And to Robin's shock, there's more than a few Plegians willing to join their ranks as well, dissatisfied with the way Validar preaches blood and doom.
That alone comes as a shock to her. But what makes her wonder even more, is how many look to her for guidance. Chrom makes for a good scholar, eager to read and learn all the things he's forgotten; he can motivate the troops as well, act as a rally point for the resistance.
And yet when the time comes to lead the charge, he looks to her. And over time, more of the others look to him as well.
A part of her thought she'd escaped the expectations, when she fled to Ylisse. But… There isn't fanaticism in the eyes of those who look to her. And they always seem focused on HER, rather than her mark. And it's strangely invigorating, to have people trust her.
And sometimes speak to her.
Robin gets another brush with that one evening, when Lissa approaches her. And even with all the battles she's faced, Robin still gets a little nervous when the leader of the resistance sits down next to her.
"Take it easy." Lissa tells Robin, and even favors her with a cheeky grin as she takes a seat beside her. Lissa tends to the campfire, watching the sparks drift up into the night air.
"I just wanted to ask you about my brother…" Her voice hitches at that. And Robin bows her head; it has to eat away at the girl, that Chrom's memories stay stubbornly out of reach. He's always kind enough, whenever Robin sees them together; even offering Lissa a share of his rations whenever they stumble across sweets. "I… I never really thanked you, for bringing him back."
Robin gives a faint mumble, trying to brush off the gratitude. She still feels a bit like a liar, hiding among the company of the Ylisseans.
"You know…" Lissa murmurs. "I… Do think there's something familiar about you." She looks Robin straight in the eye as she speaks. "Before our father got a case of the crazy, I sometimes heard about a princess in Plegia. And she sounded a LOT like you; smart, observant, elegant-"
"Th-that's the first time I've heard a Ylissean call me that. I always though 'corrupt' was their favorite word." She tenses as she speaks, waiting for Lissa to raise the alarm, or to narrow her eyes and spit on her disgust.
"…Maybe." Lissa allows, her voice staying low. "But I… My sister always warned me about thinking like that. She said that wouldn't bring my brother back… And it turns out she was right. The point is… I won't throw out your secret to the others. You can stay with us as long as you like… And until my brother finally gets his head on straight, on what to do about his feelings."
Robin tries to blame the sudden rush of heat to her face on the fire.
"What… Exactly do you mean?" Lissa loses her somber look, favoring Robin with a grin.
"Oh, just that I know how to use my eyes."
-o-o-o-
It's only when they cast Plegia out completely, and take care of the Plegian general Gangrel, that Chrom finds the courage to speak with her. And much as she hates to admit it, the same is true for Robin. It takes time to figure out why she feels so loyal to him. Why the idea of going back to Plegia always leaves her cold-
"You… Know you don't have to leave." He tells her, on the second night of their victory celebration.
"I'm not certain there's a place for Plegian, among the royal court." She forces herself to say.
"I… I think there might be." Chrom murmurs to her, daring to take a step closer. He reaches for her hand, but hesitates halfway. Robin finds herself bridging that gap, plucking up his hand and holding it tight. That seems to coax him to continue. "Perhaps… If you were to be at my side?"
It's not the sort of confession she ever imagined hearing. But Robin wouldn't take the more formal courtship over this moment, as she throws her arms around him.
-o-o-o-
Seasons turn as Ylisse is repaired. As the broken buildings turn to patchwork shelters, and then to homes. What surprises Chrom is how much this place FEELS like home… Even if he doesn't remember all the details, like he wishes.
He traces his hands along the sleeves of his robe, considering. The dark blue and silver, Lissa tells him, is an echo of Naga's colors and that of the first Exalt. That might be why he frequently wears the robe, like it's a comforting blanket in the midst of so many changes…
…Though there IS one more comforting, steady presence in his life. One that never left him, since she first found him in the desert. And as the seasons fly by, she seems content to set roots down in Ylisse, and grow.
And eventually, that growth turns towards Chrom. And slowly turns into a family.
He thinks that they might have a chance to build something… Until another war brews on the horizon.
And then the girl from the future shows her face again, and sends everything crashing down on Chrom's ears.
-o-o-o-
Her name is 'Lucina.' The same as his young daughter. And she brings together the broken pieces of Chrom's memory.
And a part of him wishes he'd stayed in ignorance; that he doesn't know why he lashes against his wife, when she almost turns into the avatar of Grima. That he's as much an avatar for Naga, and when the dragon first tried to manifest, she wiped Chrom's memory.
He still sobs after the ceremony, and the battle against Validar. Even with Plegia's mad priest dead, even with Robin pulling through at the last minute… He feels like an abomination. And he's supposed to be the conduit of a holy dragon.
"Chrom… It's not your fault." Robin tells him at the end of the battle, even as a twisted dragon writhes across the sky. It's too similar to what she said, when he drove the blade into her side… Only to turn the blade at the last moment, grazing it along her ribs.
"And… We'll find a way to make it right." She whispers to him. A fell dragon may be unleased on the world, but he still finds himself nodding. And knowing that he'll do anything to make it up to his other half.
Even if he has to channel Naga's will to do so. No matter what it might do to him.
-o-o-o-
Naga's power demands much, Robin thinks, watching Chrom fade around the edges; to channel so much power, it's small wonder that mortal flesh can't last long against it. But that doesn't keep her from clutching at him, trying desperately to keep him solid instead of turning ethereal.
And while a part of her knows this is the only way it could have ended, the only way to restore balance… She still has tears burning in her eyes and scouring her cheeks, as she desperately sobs her husband's name. Again and again, as though that can keep him here-
She only stills, when something soft presses against her head. Chrom is just solid enough to give her a gentle kiss, and raise her face. With a jolt, she realizes he's crying as well.
"Love…" He whispers. "Please don't cry; you're not beholden to any dragon any longer. Our kingdoms are at peace, and…"
Just like that, he flickers out. Leaving her grasping empty air, and feeling a faint, promised whisper on the breeze.
'And I'll come back to you.'