19. 19th Century
((Author's Note: Featuring guest appearances from Fire Emblem: Fates! There's also a fair amount of anachronisms going on here, so it reads more like an alternate history fantasy. Namely that the Nohr-Perry Black Ships stayed around for a lot longer, influenced policy change, the Boshin war either started earlier, went longer, or overlapped with the Satsuma Rebellion, and the Haito Edict or similar was sneaked into place at the same time. This is probably because of magic dragons and their influence. With all that said, I hope there's something enjoyable in here, and thanks for reading!))
The rain drives needles into his skin, and thunder makes his arm buzz and ache with pain; like the storm has fingers, and is trying to reach deep into his skin and pry the contents of his arm loose. Chrom grits his teeth against the chill and pain both, and forces himself to continue on.
The rain sluices down his bangs as well; after losing his topknot, his hair feels like an unruly mess, obscuring his sight and his feet stumble through the forest. They catch against tree roots, bruising his feet, and mud stains the former pristine threads of his robes.
Thunder crackles overhead, the explosion of sound threatening to bow his head, and knock him into the ground.
'Find succor with Hoshido. Make them your allies.' He keeps his feet going, one stride at a time.
Those are the words of his father, that keep him going Even as the memory stings his ears and burn his face-
'Keep Falchion safe. No matter what it costs you.'
He doesn't get time to dwell on that, as the skies blaze with white light overhead. A rumbling traces through the ground, and makes the trees tremble and move like waves on a storm wracked sea. And somehow, all his training and lessons didn't prepare him for having the ground go out from under him.
The best Chrom can manage is to keep his head sheltered, as he tumbles and falls through mud, leaves, and grass… Until at last he comes to a halt, where a river cuts through the forest. He skids into the water, and the river finds a way to soak anything the rain missed.
But at least he comes a rest in the shallows. Lightning continues to pulse and flicker overhead, while the waters are like quicksilver. Chrom pulls himself up, struggling against the storm and splashing for the shore-
A shore that has someone else crumpled against the sand. He bristles when he sees the lump of dark clothing.
'Nohr!?' His thoughts hiss urgently, and his hands go for a sword that isn't there. He wants to curse everything; the law for banning the weapons, his father for taking such drastic measures, the constant pressure from the dark clothed foreigners-
But then the lump on the ground gives a confused mumble, and all his frustration cuts out. Whoever this person is, it's clear that they aren't a threat. And beneath the dark clothes, the stranger looks as threadbare and battered as he does.
The hood falls from the stranger's face as she lifts her head up, picking up on his splashes in the river… And flinches at the sight of him. Chrom finds himself wincing as well, wondering how he must look. Stained with mud and wild hair, he's a far cry from looking either noble or like much of a samurai. And he certainly doesn't have a sword at his waist any longer… So all he's left with is his hands. He cautiously reaches out to her.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He also keeps his voice soft; just now, he doesn't have it in him to sound commanding or proud. The storm and battles have beaten all of that out of him, replacing any bravado with a hushed voice.
"I-I know, Chrom." The stranger says, her eyes widening right as she says his name. Chrom knows that he's staring as well; as battered as he is, he doubts even his own family would recognize him as the son of a great lord.
"Y-you know who I am?" And if so, does that make her a friend, or a foe?
"No, I…" A crackle of lightning makes them both flinch. When he blinks his eyes clear, it's to see the stranger rubbing at her head. "I just… Grasped your name for a moment-"
The situation is strange, Chrom knows. He finds himself kneeling next to the stranger, taking in more of her features. She looks like she might have some ties to Nohr… But lacks any of their usual weapons. Only the splashes of violet on her robes suggest that she might come from the black fleet… Though Chrom doubts that after fifty years of dominion, that they'd be ready to send confused young women out to do their bidding-
And he's also never seen spirits dancing around Nohr ambassadors, either. They've always brought their own magic, a strange echo to the dragon veins tracing the lands. But that's where the similarities end; in his eyes, and his father's eyes, Nohrian magic gets twisted about, using books and tomes for focuses instead of talismans, the animistic creatures all stripped away in favor of raw elemental power.
Which makes it all the stranger that a small glimmering animal shivers through the undergrowth, hesitating at the woman's feet before shifting into a small flame crested bird and fluttering off.
"…Robin?" He identifies the spirit, right before it winks out. And in response, the stranger gives him a startled blink. It takes another moment for Chrom to realize he's guessed her name.
"That… That IS my name. I remember that now!" She whispers out, looking half astonished. Strands of hair stick to her forehead thanks to the storm, and when she brushes them aside, she flinches from even that contact with her head.
Rough as this night has been for him, he suspects she's undergone even worse.
"Well… Whoever you are, Robin, and whatever happened to your mind… We can hash it out somewhere else. I don't want to be here when the riverbank floods." He lifts his head, trying to get his bearings. "Can you walk? I was told to make my way to the old capital… And I'd sooner not leave you here, alone."
In answer, Robin shakily tries to find her feet and giving a hesitant nod. When he offers his hand again, she doesn't hesitate in taking it. His father would likely be shrieking in his ear right now, that it's beneath him to help such a person… But right now, Chrom isn't interested in thinking about his father, or the ache still lingering in his arm. Robin's grip helps to dim that, and have him focus on putting one foot forward.
-o-o-o-
The storm gradually fades, replaced with a chilling mist. And as they walk, Robin finds herself looking at Chrom. She knows the name somehow even better than her own… And also knows that he's someone to be trusted, no matter how rough he looks. She keeps her eyes on him, hoping that will cease the buzz in her head; it's been there since she woke up.
"S-sir…?" She asks. "Aren't you…?" She forces a deep breath to figure out her words. "You have the look of a… A samurai."
"Even though the officials have torn away my sword and most of my appearance?" There's a slightly wry, bitter note in his voice as he speaks.
"That's… What happened? Is that why you were out in the wilds?"
"That… And orders from my father." Chrom gives a shiver as he speaks. "He didn't want to give up the family blade. So he told ME to take it, to safeguard our legacy…"
Robin stares at that, looking over his appearance; because no matter how she looks at him, she can't pick out any swords. Chrom seems to dwell on that ideas as well, as he traces his hand over his sash and belt. Both lacking the usual blades.
"So I know I don't look the part of being a samurai." He mutters. "And my father never hesitated to remind me of that…"
"I don't know about that; you look proud enough to me." Chrom blinks at that. "I-it just seems to suit you. I'm not certain on why." There's a lot of things she doesn't understand right now… Though she does know that a branch snap in the forest isn't a good sign. The mist clears just enough to show dark shapes moving through the haze and among the trees.
"What's-!?" Robin whispers, staring at the shadowy figures and their dark clothing.
"Nohr troops!" Chrom steps in front of her, shielding her from the patrol. Robin still chances a glance over his shoulder, and picks out figures clad in armor and atop black coated horses. There's an odd twinge in her head as she watches them, that insists this sight SHOULD be familiar-
"Xander, sir. I'm certain I heard something. Could be our quarry." Comes a stern voice. It trails off when the figures get a good look at her and Chrom.
"Not Hoshidan. But… This is still our lucky day." One of them says, and Robin's skin crawls a little from the odd croon.
"Hans? What are you saying?" Asks one of the mounted men. At his side, a younger figure in pale hair flutters, watching the confrontation unfold.
"Oh, Gunter… You and your ward have taken a few too many blows to the head. Don't you recognize the young lordling? The very one we're told to capture?" The foot soldier sneers at Chrom. "…Though he doesn't seem to have the sword with him. A shame… But separating his head from his shoulders should still please the commanders."
"Restrain your bloodlust." Says another rider, brushing blonde hair from his face. "We can always take him prisoner… IF he surrenders."
The man digs his heels into his horse, sending it forward.
"Sir Chrom? My name is Xander of Nohr."
"You're a long way from your black fleet." Chrom growls, standing his ground even while the soldier towers over him.
"The chaos gripping your country has forced our hand, and required our direct involvement." Xander answers. Through the odd haze collecting in her head, Robin can remember a few details; that black ships had arrived on the shore… But nearly twenty years ago.
'How long has this struggle been lasting?'
"Still, if we can capture you, and those like you…" Xander grimaces as he speaks, showing how little he cares for the notion. "…We'll have more sway in how to shape the country. It's nothing personal… But I'll need to ask you to surrender."
"W-wait." The pale figure near Guntar interrupts. Robin picks out more of that oddly familiar hair; pale white strands that wind down the back of a woman. And Robin can't help but feel another odd twinge; this time like she's facing a mirror of her… And the sneering foot soldier takes note of that.
"…And we've found a wayward scion as well. The lords Garon and Validar are going to be VERY pleased-" Hans tracks forward, licking his lips and giving Robin an almost hungry look. He grips a handle over his back, drawing a massive axe.
"Stay. Your. Hand." Xander snaps the order, and the ice in his voice freezes Hans to the spot. "We don't attack unless he-"
"I won't surrender." Chrom cuts Xander off. "It's nothing personal for me either. But I have my orders, to stay out of Nohrian hands."
"That's all I needed to hear!" Hans cackles, shoving his way past Xander.
"Chrom…!" She doesn't want to see him cut down, weaponless. She'll do whatever it takes, even if she has to take the blow herself, or draw on the weird magic buzzing through her brain-
She tries to pull Chrom aside. And that's when she feels a strange hum of magic, and echo of what's in her own brain, trembling along his arm. Chrom shrugs her off, narrowing his eyes on Hans. He takes one step forward, straight into the downward swing of the axe. A ripple shudders through his arm, and Robin feels her teeth go on edge. The blade is arcing, ready to slice straight through Chrom… Only to halt, as it crashes against Chrom. Yet somehow it doesn't violently rip his arm off.
And she realizes that he's gripping a sword, his skin still raw and pink from where the sword burst out of his arm.
"…I need to correct you." Chrom says, glaring up at Hans. Even the other Nohr soldiers have frozen in their tracks, their horses snorting and backing away. "I neither lack a blade, nor am defenseless. And I still have Falchion at my side."
He throws Hans back with a snarl, a cut tracing down the man's chest. It sends Hans scurrying away, screaming like he's lost an arm instead of blood. Xander however, is made of sterner stuff, and he sends his own horse charging forward.
The strange buzz in Robin's head reaches its peak, going from an odd drone to sounding like the rushing of thousands of wings. She throws her hands out by reflex… And magic arcs off her limbs in response. As Chrom clashes blades with Xander, a flurry of red clad, spectral creatures harry Xander and his steed. Beaks and wings beat at him, forcing him back.
With a sick feeling, Robin sees that her own spells are drawing blood off the soldier… At least until the pale haired woman leaps in. There's a blade in her hands, spinning and slicing into the magic as though she's cutting arrows from their flight.
"Corrin-?" Xander manages, naming the stranger.
'Yet she doesn't look THAT strange.' Once again Robin is struck by their similarities. And Corrin also gets a good look at her, as she traces the attack back to Robin.
Even with the chaos erupting around them, Robin manages to meet Corrin eye to eye… And feels something strange stir in her. It makes those odd pulses of magic she felt in herself and Chrom feel like tickles in comparison. Now something churns in her chest, and it feels like her heart might burst and her skin rent asunder-
Corrin gives a pained hiss as well… And as though she decides Robin is the source of that pain, she throws herself forward.
Chrom doesn't get a chance to counter; not with Xander and Gunter both trying to ride him down and wear down his defenses. Leaving Robin to face the other woman. Unlike Chrom, she doesn't have a sword lurking in her arm, nothing more than her own hands and magic to try and stop the sword-
But the sword doesn't land. It drops from Corrin's sudden, nerveless hand, as she shudders and gives a strange, almost bestial snarl. Corrin lashes out with her own hands, the fingers going impossibly sharp, a strange crackling sound echoing through the bones as her palms widen, broaden… And become a strange, gaping maw. Ready to swallow Robin.
The teeth sink into her shoulder, her blood burning through the wounds. Through the pained haze, Robin can see Corrin staring at her, shock and panic moving through her crimson stained eyes… And Robin knows that her own eyes are a match to that, as her own hand shudders up. Her fingers writhe and twist, and she can feel the same transformation taking root in her limbs.
"Corrin-!?" Xander breaks off his clash, staring as the two of them lock in combat, malformed and twisted limbs both clashing and trying to tear chunks off the other… And something more is building through her limbs. She sees a field of energy building between them like a sphere, like the magic in them is calling out to the other, clashing, building up pressure-
And then that pressure explodes, sending Robin flying backwards. She crashes along the ground, as a storm roars back to life over them. Robin stares up at the churning clouds from her place on the ground; she recognizes their pattern; she's certain that she's seen this same turbulent sky, the world trying to tear itself asunder as power boils through her… And tries to sear away her memory.
"ROBIN!" Chrom matches his voice to Xander, shouting through the chaos. He ducks beneath the horses, charging next to Robin. His arm twists, absorbing the blade as he reaches for her… And something about his touch stills the worse of her changes.
And just to add to the chaos, the forest explodes around them, figures in pale clothing slamming into the Nohr forces.
"…A-and there's our Hoshido friends." Chrom murmurs in Robin's ears, pulling her upright and holding her close. He still looks ready to lash out, if anything dares to fight him again… But instead the Hoshido figures chase at the Nohr fighters, the horses screaming and giving up the battle.
One man in scarlet and white keeps the pressure up, and a sword of his own crackles in the man's grip. There's lighting blazing along the sword, equal to anything blazing across the sky. Robin feels her vision swim, as the sword swings and spits sparks; and overhead, the storm seems to twist, almost like the coils of a dragon.
The shouts are what draw her back, as the band of fighters finish the battle, and leave the Nohr patrol to bolt through the forest; fierce fighters they might be, but they can't match the movement of horses on their own two feet.
And the one wielding the lighting sword turns his back to them, eyes darting around the forest and looking for any other enemies.
"…Lord Ryoma?" Chrom asks, looking up as the chaos subsides. Robin blinks through the haze, forcing herself to take a steady breath, and feeling the last of the changes melting away. Of Corrin, there's no sign. A shame; she desperately wanted to ask the other girl what one earth had happened to them.
"…We routed them. Shame, we could've used some hostages." The white and red figure stands over them, before slowly turning around.
"…You have a Nohr prisoner with you?" She flinches at the voice; so similar to Chrom, but with a harsher edge to it.
"Not a prisoner. An ally." Chrom tells them, in a tone that allows for no argument. "I've brought my sword to your service… Though I have a condition."
His hand tightens around Robin.
"She helped me fight. So no judgement or imprisonment on her yet, until she proves herself as an enemy." Ryoma sighs from where he stands over them… But he also doesn't draw or turn his blade on Robin.
"…Fair enough. My brother might not appreciate it, but you look like you can handle yourself against him."
"After what we've survived, I hope so." Chrom tells the samurai. And for her part, Robin wants to rasp out why; why Chrom is willing to vouch for her. In answer, he squeezes at her shoulders, and helps to pull her up… And she remembers his promise to her.
That whatever else, he means her no harm.
"And I… Promise to return that trust." She murmurs to Chrom, and finds herself standing beside him. Ready to make the journey to the old capital, and whatever lays beyond. Whatever else, she won't be facing it alone.