Three months later, and it's with another chapter! This one was unexpectedly difficult to write, actually, but not uninteresting. The blueberry prince is always just such a ray of sunshine.
FallenRaindrops: Lissa is going to be very good friends with our Plegian duo! And you got your Chrom wish, but not the bunking wish! Although that might be yet to be seen ;)
Aylatha: since this is taking place in a medieval period (roughly from the 1200s to the 1300s), I'm not entirely sure how codified riding styles would have been at the time for them to have been described as English and such. But I really appreciate your input! Do you ride? Because it'd be great to discuss that with you for research.
As for Alm and co, they're described as Valmese because by the time Awakening rolls around, the continent is now Valm and not Valentia, the latter having fallen into disuse. I placed their adventure in Thabes between Marth's two games, so before he becomes king and unites the continent. However, I don't entirely remember a lot of other details so I appreciate you calling my attention to them!
As always, I couldn't have done this without newmrsdewinter's impeccable editing and writing. Please, go over to her profile and read her fics too!
The council meeting did not go as expected. Not to say that it went badly…but the relative lack of interest Emmeryn's cabinet showed over Robin and Henry was surprising.
Chrom told them everything about the events that transpired during his aborted hunting trip. He told them how they discovered Robin in the grass, unconscious and wounded; the questioning she was submitted to at the border post and her taking command of Ylissean troops in Southtown's defense; then their horrific encounter with the Risen in the forest and the awe-inspiring power she had conjured up to defeat the Chief and the skyborne eye controlling it.
(He did not, however, divulge their rather heartfelt conversation in the forest battle's aftermath)
"So you say that Robin and Henry know what these things are and how to defeat them," Minister Emerick said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Chrom confirmed.
Phila added her thoughts to the conversation. "My Pegasus Knights, as well as our sources from the rest of our forces stationed around Ylisse, have informed us of more of those creatures appearing all over the nation. Thankfully, we have received no reports of them attacking anyone so far."
"Any sightings of that eye?"
"None that we are aware of."
The room dissolved into hushed murmurs, the scratch of quills on parchment stalling briefly as Emmeryn's cabinet discussed the news amongst themselves. Emmeryn leaned in closer and nodded every now and then as her ministers took turns whispering to her. Chrom, nervous, swallowed slightly as he watched from the other end of the table. He hoped that this would not mean some sort of punishment for Robin and Henry…Frederick's repeated warnings of possible treachery notwithstanding.
"You are dismissed, Chrom." Emmeryn smiled at him from her seat at the head of the table.
He blinked, confused. "Uh…is that all?"
"Yes." Her smile widened and the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Unless there is something else you would like to say?"
"N-no…"
"Alright then. I suggest you take some time to rest and freshen up before tonight's banquet."
After the meeting, a wonderful feast had been prepared to welcome them home, featuring delicacies such as lamb and chicken smothered in honey, spring greens, and barley porridge thickened with milk and almonds. Emmeryn watched serenely as the hall filled with chatter and laughter over the sounds of eating. Musicians playing flutes and lutes and drums added to the din.
As happy as Chrom was to be back in Ylisstol with his friends, he only picked half-heartedly at his food and barely listened to the Shepherd's conversation. His mind kept wandering back to Robin and Henry: citing travel-weariness, they settled themselves in the barracks and were currently resting, refusing Chrom's multiple offers to have food and drink sent to them. Even proposals to upgrade their modest current lodgings were declined.
Not only that, but the council's curious disinterest in the pair puzzled Chrom. They were usually keen on learning at least a little bit about possible recruits, even if the matter was out of their hands, but during the meeting they were mostly concerned with discussing the Risen and what to do with them. Though Chrom could not fault them, the situation was…strange.
"Helloooooo! Earth to Chrom! Is anyone in there?"
Vaike was knocking his head as though he were a door. Scowling, Chrom pushed him off with a scoff. "Haven't I told you that it's so annoying when you do that?"
"So? I brought your head down from the clouds, didn't I?" Vaike grinned.
"You're impossible," Chrom scolded in reply.
"How'm I impossible when I'm not the one spacing out in the middle of this delicious spread? Anyone else would'a stuffed themselves dead at this point and you're off somewhere in Daydream Land."
"I'm not—" Chrom cut himself off with a sigh. "I've just been thinking a lot…about Robin and Henry."
"Aw, not this crap again," Sully growled, annoyed.
Chrom was suddenly aware of the entire Shepherd table focusing its collective attention on him. He cursed under his breath. "Look. We can discuss this later—" he tried to say.
"Chrom, I know you like to think everyone's a potential friend, but sometimes you have to think with your brain for once. I don't like the smell of this situation, I don't like how you just 'coincidentally' happened to stumble across them, and I just plain don't like 'em." Sully punctuated her sentence with a long drag from her goblet.
"Sully—"
"I agree," Panne interjected. The taguel had recently returned from her short stint in the forest with her son, joining the rest of the Shepherds to welcome Chrom and Lissa back. Her rusty red eyes narrowed as she considered the prince. "To allow such strangers into the castle does not bode well for us. We cannot be certain of their intentions nor of their character when they refuse to discuss their circumstances with us. This situation does indeed bear an odd scent."
"And how!" Maribelle, in a rare display of agitation, brought her cup down on the table with a thud. "Not only are they unmistakably Plegian—and we were at war with Plegia barely some years ago—but Plegians with awful manners!"
"You should've seen that freaky thing she did with her eyes back in the forest," Sully added darkly. "And keeping her hood on like that all the time looks incredibly suspicious!"
To Chrom's chagrin, Frederick was nodding along to every single word.
"I-I don't think they seem so bad…" a small voice said timidly.
Everyone turned to stare at Sumia. The pegasus knight looked down at her lap, flushing a bright pink, and managed to continue. "They just seem a bit lost, is all. I remember how nervous I was when I was accepted into the Shepherds. A-and besides…if C-Chrom says he trusts them…then I do too."
Loyal as ever! Chrom beamed at her in thanks. Returning a tiny smile, she hid her face shyly.
"I like them too," Stahl declared. Sully shot him a dirty look and scoffed, incredulous. "Henry was great with our Sev. It's really hard to calm her down from her moods and he made it look so easy! I think we just have to give them some time to adjust."
Ricken, who had come late to the feast due to his involvement in the festival committee, sided with Stahl and Sumia. "What does it matter if they're Plegians? Chrom says they're strong fighters, and we need new blood in our ranks, especially if we're going to run into more of those Risen."
"The Teach agrees!" Vaike said with a belch.
The Shepherds devolved into a heated debate over the potential recruits. Chrom sighed and dragged his hands down his face as courtiers from other tables turned to stare at them and the chaos enveloping their table. To his eternal embarrassment, Emmeryn seemed to find it rather funny and giggled behind her hand. Stony-faced Phila was not nearly so amused.
"Well, they haven't said anything," Sully yelled, throwing her arm out towards Libra, Miriel, and Cordelia. "You agree with me, right?"
(Kellam was also present, but wisely decided to stay silent to avoid fanning the flames of the argument)
Cordelia swallowed and froze. She glanced awkwardly at Libra and Miriel.
"You all have valid viewpoints," Libra said diplomatically.
Another ruckus was raised, but this time, Chrom was quicker to put his foot down. "Let them speak," he ordered.
The table, though grumbling collectively, heeded his words.
"Thank you, milord," Miriel replied calmly. "While one side presents compelling concerns over the provenance and probity of these possible novitiates, the other cautions us against judging them based on inequitable parameters and disallowing them a basic degree of credence. Ultimately, however…the final conclusion is not ours to make. That responsibility lies solely within the hands of Lieutenant Frederick and Captain Chrom."
Miriel's careful observation was not quite well received by the other Shepherds.
"Just give them a chance," Stahl pleaded.
"A chance to what? Murder us in our sleep?" Sully snarled.
"You're not being very reasonable." Ricken rolled his eyes, peeved.
"And you are?" Maribelle retorted.
Chrom, thoroughly fed up and feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on him, slammed his hands on the table. "ENOUGH!"
The Shepherds were shocked into silence.
"Like Miriel said, it's not your choice to take. You raised some good points, but, ultimately, the decision Frederick and I make is final, whether you all like it or not. Are we all clear on that?"
"Yes," they all chorused after a beat. Sully looked particularly sulky.
"Good." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's late now. Let's try to get some rest before resuming our regular duties tomorrow. Shepherds dismissed."
Chrom slept poorly that night, tossing and turning in bed as much as his mind did. How were Robin and Henry, all alone in the barracks? Were they comfortable? Were they cold? If they refused his offer to make them Shepherds, what would they do? If they accepted, then what could he do, as their captain, to convince the Shepherds to welcome them? Sully and the others' open hostility towards them was upsetting. Chrom was no fool—he understood their worries, and admitted to himself that there was obviously more to the mysterious duo's situation than met the eye, but he firmly believed in their goodness and of the immense value they posed to the Shepherds. Their talents were needed during times like these.
Chrom exhaled loudly in the darkness.
I hope I know what I'm doing.
A three week observation period was imposed on Robin and Henry. Chrom argued against the usual physical tests, considering their performance in Southtown and the forest was enough proof in his opinion. Frederick, surprisingly, agreed. The pair was made to start off with basic tasks such as taking inventory, helping keep the barracks clean, and similar labours.
"I believe we are being too lenient on them," Frederick remarked as they oversaw them hauling massive tubs of wet linens to a clothesline.
"In what way?" Chrom replied.
Frederick gestured vaguely at the training grounds behind them. "They would do better to participate in activities such as combat exercises."
"Didn't you agree with me that they're in good enough condition? What's this all about now?"
"Their…outstanding fighting skills are not necessarily Shepherd material."
Chrom, groaning, ran his hands through his hair. "My gods Frederick, what else do you want them to do? They've cleaned out the barracks from top to bottom, they helped Miriel take stock of every item in the inventory down to alphabetical order and date, and now they're stuck doing laundry duty with you!" Chrom shuddered. Washing down filthy armour and uniforms with Frederick was one of his least favourite Shepherding duties. Between Frederick's constant nagging and Vaike leaving a rather distinct musk on his clothes, Chrom pitied Robin and Henry for bearing so well with it.
He offered them help several times and was constantly rebuffed. Frederick, naturally, disapproved of his gestures. He wondered why Robin kept her heavy coat on despite the sunny weather and tedious nature of their chores.
The two were currently struggling with a heavy padded gambeson. Robin and Henry squeezed out excess water and pinned it with the rest of the clothes, yet the line still sagged enormously under its weight. Robin scrambled for more pins, but it was too late—it dropped on Henry's head with a loud, wet plop. Cackling with raucous laughter, Henry tossed it back over the line without a care in the world and went back to sorting the rest of the items in the tubs, whistling cheerfully as Robin wiped him off.
Frederick merely hummed thoughtfully as he watched the scene. "I've received complaints that they're being sequestered from the others…and it seems like preferential treatment. There are petitions to have their, shall we say, 'people skills' tested as well. Not to mention that they've displayed some reluctance to even join us in the first place. While your generosity is well noted, some have voiced concerns that valuable time and resources are being wasted on people who do not even want the privilege of being Shepherds, not to mention we still do not know about their—"
"I get it!" Chrom raised his voice. Robin and Henry paused briefly to look over at Chrom, confused. He waved them off and went back to his conversation with Frederick. "We're not going to make them break their backs over chores just to prove some point. If you want to test their 'people skills,' then you should actually let them go out more for a change. Sequestering them was your idea in the first place."
"Milord—"
"And if you and the others are still so dead-set on their backgrounds, what's stopping you from asking them? I've had it up to here with everyone calling them 'mysterious' and yet it's never occurred to anyone to just talk to them about it. And even if they want to or not, why's that such a deal-breaker? Have they shown anything that makes them unsuitable to be Shepherds? Have they tried to hurt us in any way? Is there anything that makes them as bad as you think they might be?"
(Chrom acknowledged his own curiosity over the pair, but recognised that they were reluctant to disclose certain information. It was not his place to pry. He hoped that, by gaining their trust and their friendship, they would warm up to him and the rest of the Shepherds eventually)
Frederick, sighing, conceded. "Understood, milord. However, I still believe it to be prudent on our part to oversee their interactions with the others. And we shall look into their backgrounds, if at least to give the others peace of mind."
"You'll schedule proper interviews to do it. You won't be interrogating them as if they were criminals, you hear? And I'll be there to supervise you."
"…of course, milord."
And so Robin and Henry were allowed proper freedom around the castle. After a week of being cooped up in the barracks, Henry was positively bursting with glee, zipping to and fro with seemingly boundless energy. Robin was far more reserved. Chrom apologised endlessly for Frederick's strict 'quarantine period,' and Robin was quick to brush him off politely. And yet, Chrom could not help but still feel guilty. His way of showing his contrition was to attempt to be as friendly and supportive as he could: showing them around with Lissa, spending time together, and chipping in for thankless tasks such as laundry duty. Chrom hoped that, bit by bit, her guarded exterior would begin to melt, and she would once again show him that vulnerably warm side he had seen in the forest.
Not everyone was pleased with his attitude. Chrom found Sully to be as moody and sulky as ever, but, to his shock, Maribelle was beginning to take her cues from the redheaded cavalier. He would often find the women huddled together in deep discussion, narrow-eyed and muttering whenever Robin and Henry were afoot. Sully and Maribelle's distrust was hurtful. Chrom briefly considered taking them aside for a stern talking-to, but decided against it on Lissa's warning.
To his relief, the rest of the Shepherds seemed friendly and inviting, or at least cordial enough, to the newcomers. Panne, for all her misgivings, was behaving herself. Libra and Miriel were thankful for the additional pair of hands in as the main tome-keepers for the Shepherds. And Cordelia, brilliant, perfectionist Cordelia, called them satisfying sparring partners.
Chrom smiled to himself. If anything, no one could deny the power and prowess Robin and Henry displayed in combat.
One night, as the Shepherds were having supper (Robin and Henry still taking their meals in the barracks, to Chrom's frustration), Frederick presented Chrom with a gigantic stack of papers.
"I've taken the liberty to draw up the questions for the interviews," he said crisply.
"…Frederick." Chrom gaped. "A small report would have sufficed. You've written me a tome."
"Milord, the process needs to be as thorough as possible. Naturally, it entails covering as many bases as we can: full name, age, date of place, place of birth, previous occupations, family histories, marriage status—"
"Why on earth would we need to ask them about their marriage status?"
Frederick tsked tsked as though Chrom were a simpleton. "We have to consider these on a case-by-case basis. Some who are given to fits of irrationality and flights of fancy do well with a spouse to keep them grounded, while lustful and worldly personalities would simply be too distracted by marriage to pay mind to the duties of a Shepherd."
"And where do I fall in those categories?" Chrom remarked snidely.
The joke flew completely over Frederick's head. "Milord, you are still a bachelor."
"Nevermind…just give me some time to look over this, alright? I need to determine which questions are actually useful."
And so Chrom found himself sweating over a mountain of paperwork, crossing out and correcting and revising as needed, all while cursing Frederick continuously over his lost night of sleep. He was positively haggard the next day and still yawning by practice time.
"Robin?" Chrom knocked the door to her and Henry's room. He decided to stop by after supper, to inform them of their upcoming interviews—well, more like to warn them. Frederick had a rather unpleasant habit of coming down hard on those he distrusted…not that he tried to disguise it much. "Are you in here?"
After a beat of silence, the door creaked open hesitantly. Chrom spied Robin's shadowy hood from behind it. "Hello, Chrom. Is everything alright?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"When someone wants to talk so late at night, it's usually over something serious. Or do castle folk have enough spare time to chat?"
Though taken aback by her sudden bluntness, Chrom tried to laugh it off, albeit nervously, in an attempt to clear the atmosphere. "My apologies. It is rather late, isn't it?"
Robin bowed her head abashedly. "I'm…I'm sorry. That was unkind of me. I shouldn't begrudge you your visits, even if you're just here to chat."
"Unfortunately, you're right." Chrom sighed. "I'm here to give you a heads up about Frederick."
"What's he planning now? More pebble collecting? New items to take stock of?"
"He wants to interview you and Henry in a few days."
The silence, though not uncomfortable, was not entirely welcome as it blanketed it them under its thoughtful veil. What could Chrom say, really? Apologise over Frederick for the hundredth time? He reached out to Robin and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
She tensed. Chrom swallowed; he kept forgetting that she was still uneasy over physical contact. He withdrew his hand.
"I know you're still undecided over joining the Shepherds," he said slowly. "But I think you two would be great for the team. You're strong, you're intelligent—I daresay you could teach us more than a thing or two—and you're clearly committed to doing good."
"I…I don't know, Chrom…"
Chrom blinked. "But—"
"I don't know if we'll be a good fit here." Her hands wrung the edges of her sleeves anxiously.
"Of course you would! And we're friends, right? What's a person who doesn't help his friends in need?"
"Are we, Chrom? I don't want to be ungrateful, but seeing you here with the others…it makes me feel like we're intruding on something. Like our presence threatens the balance the Shepherds have. What 'good' would new members do if we end up unravelling everything else?"
She must have overheard Sully, Chrom fumed. "You're not threatening anything. What happened to our talk in the forest? At the bridge?"
"That was then. This is now," she stressed. Robin kept her voice low, presumably to avoid waking Henry. "And besides: we had our plans to travel to Ferox, for…for whatever reason or another. Without our memories, who are we to dispute the few bits and pieces we do have? Chrom, we're very grateful for—for everything you've done for us…but I still don't know what on earth we're doing or what we're even supposed to do. Where do we go from here?"
Chrom, speechless over her misgivings, could not muster up an immediate response. It was so frustrating! They were obviously a perfect fit for the Shepherds, so what was holding them back? What was Robin so worried about beyond Sully's pettiness? He felt like reaching out to shake some sense into her, but then he remembered her touch-aversion, and felt guilty about his moment of anger. Robin and Henry needed kindness and reassurance, not temper and impatience. But how to convince them? How to persuade them—especially Robin—of their indispensability? Chrom would never dream of forcing the pair to do something they did not want, but he was adamant that they would make excellent Shepherds. Their skill on the battlefield, their presence, and the precision with which they conducted themselves was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
He tentatively stretched his hand out. Though Robin hesitated, he was relieved to see her slight nod, so he squeezed her shoulder again.
"It's your decision to make," Chrom reassured, "and we will support whatever you do decide in the end."
Robin's expression was inscrutable under the shadow of her hood. The temptation to simply push it up and take a peek burned holes in his hands, but it was a temptation that was easily refused. At the very least, he could see a wobbly smile forming.
"Thank you, Chrom."
The next two days passed uneventfully. Frederick insisted on holding the interviews very early in the morning of the third of the week so as to leave the rest of the day for deliberation. Chrom, dreading the thought of Robin and Henry being stuck in a room for hours with Frederick, was already praying for it to be over.
"Take a seat," Frederick said, sounding less polite and far more threatening as the candidates drew their stools up to the small table. Chrom grimaced apologetically at the pair from the side he was sharing with his lieutenant. Frederick shuffled the (much thinner now that Chrom had gone through it) stack of papers he prepared for the occasion. "Let us begin."
"Don't worry," Chrom mouthed to Robin and Henry. He hoped to deter Frederick from pursuing an overly aggressive line of questioning in his presence, and managed to strongarm his lieutenant into allowing the newcomers to be interviewed together.
Robin smiled wanly at him.
Frederick carefully dipped a pheasant feather quill into an ink pot and tapped its shaft to rid it of excess ink. His hand hovered over the paper, poised to write.
"Full names?"
"Just Robin and Henry." Henry grinned cheerfully in spite of his sleepy expression.
Frederick's eyes narrowed, though he stayed silent as he jotted down their response. "Age and date of birth?"
"She's twenty-two and I'm nineteen! But we don't know when exactly we were born."
Chrom espied Frederick's lips moving wordlessly to himself as his hand followed their interviewees almost word for word, at a writing speed that made Chrom's hand cramp up subconsciously. He pondered over the coincidence of being a few months younger than Henry—short, rail-thin Henry, who, to his eyes, did not look a day over sixteen. Perhaps malnutrition was to blame. They certainly were extremely ravenous when the Shepherds found them.
He wondered if the same youthfulness was true of Robin…but that blasted hood still shrouded most of her face in darkness, so Chrom was left with his curiosity.
"Place of birth and usual residence?"
"We don't know."
Frederick scoffed. "Come now. With that hair of yours, your place of origin is most certainly Plegia."
"And why's that?" Henry cocked his head to the side. Chrom, having experienced the exact same gesture from Lissa when she was being intentionally obtuse, knew that Frederick would be instantly annoyed.
As if on cue, Frederick spluttered. "Why—everyone knows. Everyone knows—it is common knowledge that the only nation of the continent where a significant amount of people who possess white hair before old age is Plegia."
"Huh. You learn something every day, I guess! Thanks for the new fact, Fred!"
His nostrils flaring widely, Frederick scribbled something quickly, betraying his annoyance.
"Calm down. We're barely starting," Chrom reminded him gently.
"Understood, milord." Frederick did not sound as if he understood in the slightest.
Chrom shot their interviewees a quick glance as Frederick wrote his thoughts down, noting, with some concern, that Robin's gloved hand had curled into a tight ball in the crook of her elbow.
Frederick cleared his throat a bit too loudly. "Previous occupations?"
"We don't know," Henry repeated.
Frederick exhaled, clearly exasperated. He rested a critical eye on the two, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, as he stared at them. His disbelief was evident and Chrom prayed that it would not be vocalised.
"Familial background?"
"We don't know."
"Social background?"
"We don't know."
"'We don't know, we don't know, we don't know…'" Frederick muttered to himself as his hand practically flew over the paper, his lettering becoming looser and quicker the faster his pace increased. Chrom heard the leather of Robin's gloves creaking as her hands balled into even tighter fists, discerning the outline of her neck underneath her hood moving in a swallow, and he attempted to smile reassuringly at them. The gesture went unnoticed.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Frederick set his quill down momentarily. He steepled his fingers and regarded the pair seated before him in steely-faced silence before he resumed his questioning. "How is it that you came to Ylisse?"
"We're not really sure! I don't even know if we started out here to begin with, but all we know is—"
Frederick interrupted him with an upturned palm. "I would rather hear from Robin now."
Like a deer in torchlight, Robin turned deathly still. Perhaps she was wracking her brain for answers, considering their claims of amnesia, but Frederick did not look nearly so convinced, clearing his throat testily in order to prompt her.
"Well…" she began cautiously. "As Henry said—"
"I am not interested in Henry." Frederick's dismissive tone bordered on callousness, and Chrom shot him a sharp glare to remind him to stay on task. "Henry has spoken enough for two. As you are on the docket as well, we need to hear from your side of the matter."
Robin gulped audibly. Chrom wanted to reach over to take her hand and reassure her that this was all standard procedure, but standard procedure also dictated no shows of favouritism or interference.
Even so…the current circumstances were rather extraordinary.
Robin shifted slightly in her seat. "I know as much as Henry does. All I remember is that we woke up in Ylisse and that we know each other."
"How well?"
"…We're close."
"Siblings, then? Family members?"
"I-I don't know if we're related, but I would definitely say that I consider him someone I trust."
"Awww, Robbie!" Henry grinned and hugged her tightly, but Frederick barked at them to return to a semblance of order, unamused.
"And why is it that you trust each other, given your supposed lack of memories?" Frederick's brown furrowed as he set his quill down, leaning forward.
"I…" Robin's gulp was not very loud, but still unfortunately distinct. "I…I just have a strong feeling about him."
"The same way you claim to need to travel to Ferox?"
"Yes."
"And why Ferox?"
"I—we have a hunch that something might be waiting there for us."
Frederick's eyes narrowed. He muttered to himself as he picked up his quill, its tip scratching quickly across the paper's surface; to Chrom's astonishment, Frederick tapped it against his last sentence, which Frederick normally abhorred given how he hated the look of 'misplaced ink' and took great care in keeping his documents fresh and pristine. Was his lieutenant so agitated over the interview? And what kind of thing was Robin talking about?
"What sort of thing?" Frederick continued.
"We're not quite sure."
"Family? Lands? Weaponry? Treasure? The key to your memories?"
"Like we said, we don't—"
Frederick interrupted her to abruptly change the subject. "You claim little to no knowledge of how you came to Ylisse, your origins, or even your destination. How is it then, that coming across you two revealed heavily armed warriors who have obviously received some sort of training in combat?"
"Frederick," Chrom warned lowly. His eyes flitted to Robin's hood, dismayed to see that she had already began to curl into herself.
Frederick ignored him. "Not only that, but training that has clearly imparted tactical knowledge. War veterans, lying about your ages, perhaps? Strategists sent to spy on us from Plegia and report back? Or mages who are to gain our trust and strike from within the castle walls?"
"Frederick, that's enough—!"
"Explain how is it that our first encounter is due to a highly suspicious border incident? Caused by bandits, of all people, chasing after you? From Plegia? More importantly, how is it that you not only know enough of those so-called Risen to know the term they are referred to by, but to recognise them on sight and the methods needed to kill them? Such as that display of magic in the forest?"
"STOP." Chrom's chair fell to the floor in a strident clatter as he stood up. Robin's quiet sniffle felt just as loud to his ears. Breathing in deeply, he commanded Frederick in the most authoritative voice he could muster. "Outside. Now."
To his credit, Frederick did not hesitate to follow as Chrom exited the room.
Chrom whirled on his lieutenant the moment they set foot outside. "What were you thinking?!" His shout attracted the attention of a few groundskeepers tending to some shrubbery. "What did I say about not treating this like an interrogation?"
"Milord, we simply cannot allow certain questions to go unanswered. We have to be as thorough as possible with every candidate that passes through the castle gates," Frederick insisted.
"So the best way to do it is to badger and corner them? Treat them like guilty criminals like back at the border?"
A challenging fire lit up Frederick's eyes. "And if they are? Milord, we found them as the target of bandits. Why on earth would that be so?"
"Does it even really matter? Bandits are bandits! They follow their own logic based on whatever they think they can get away with at the moment. For all we know, Robin and Henry could be merchants, or they offended them somehow, or those brigands just felt like killing some random innocents!"
"And how do you explain their knowledge of the Risen? No 'random innocent' can possibly conjure up that kind of power from thin air, can they?"
Chrom fell silent, sighing as he processed a reply. Frederick had a point, there was no denying that, but he was drawing the wrong conclusions. Robin and Henry had used their talents to aid Ylisse. Despite the awe and fear he remembered—being thrown back, blinded, and even having his eyebrows partially seared by the white-hot sheet of lightning summoned from the sky—it was due to their efforts that the Risen group was eliminated. Unknown past notwithstanding, nothing indicated to him that they were untrustworthy.
Why was that so difficult for others to see?
Chrom heaved a sigh. "I understand your concerns, but I don't know how many more times I have to repeat myself: mysterious or not, powerful or not, whatever else you want to call them, all of their actions so far have been for the good of Ylisse. We need new Shepherds, Frederick. We need their help now that a new threat is on the horizon. And as far as I'm concerned, they look more lost than sinister. We need them, and maybe what they need is for us to give them a shoulder to lean on."
Frederick's inscrutable brown eyes narrowed as he considered his liege with utmost care. Chrom swallowed as he awaited his response.
The older man exhaled heavily after a long and pregnant pause.
"Sometimes," he said, with a tiredness that seemed as though he was shouldering a large burden, "I think your heart is too big for your own good, milord. You should let your mind carry the same weight on occasion."
Had it been anyone else, Chrom would have guessed they were calling him stupid, but he let it pass in Frederick's case.
"I promise to…'behave' myself, as you said. I shan't be as aggressive as I would like, but I will complete the interview to your satisfaction."
"Thank you, Frederick."
They reentered the barracks to find Robin still sniffling. Henry's expression was as mild as ever, though Chrom knew he had spent the better time of their absence comforting her.
"I'm sorry for that," he apologised. "Forgive us. Frederick is just…trying to be thorough."
Henry remained quiet, his small eyes glancing briefly between them, his hand never leaving Robins'. When she finally did speak, her voice was slightly raspy.
"Please…" she said, meek and subdued. "We mean no harm to anyone. We may not know enough to tell you what you want to hear, but I promise that…" she bit her lip. "We are just two strangers with no mother and nothing else but the clothes on our back and each other. Whatever you decide to do with us, please…grant us some mercy."
Robin's sadness and fear pained Chrom. He rounded the table and knelt, taking her hands in his, ignoring the start of shock she gave, and peered up into her hood.
"I know you know that some here have their suspicions. It's natural, with the way we found you two…but I would very much like it if you became Shepherds. You're smart, you're strong; you're basically exactly what we've been looking for. You have such great potential. Whether you make the cut or prefer to leave on your way to Regna Ferox, please know that you're welcome to stay and at least enjoy the festival. It's the least we could do, as thanks for your help. We'll support you with whatever choice you make. All we ask is for you to trust us."
Chrom spoke with as much honesty and sincerity as he could stress in his words, hoping they would get through to them and soothe Robin's worries. He hoped to convey all his hopes for them, all his feelings, and prayed that they would understand.
What are you hiding? He wondered. What are you afraid of?
Please let us help you.
Robin's shaky smile returned, slowly, but surely. Chrom smiled back, gratified to see that small sign of progress.
She shook her head. "We can't promise much…but thank you."
To his disappointment, the pair did not give the answers he was looking for, but he did not call them out on it. They had enough to worry about at the moment. At the very least, Frederick was keeping to normal questions such as how well they saw each other in team environments, and what colour thread they used to darn their socks.
"I would still caution against this." Frederick brought up his doubts for the hundredth time as they went over his notes later that night. Chrom was adding his own commentary to them, to the older man's chagrin. "Their answers are a far cry from satisfactory. We still have no idea over what exactly could we be getting into should we decide to bring them into our ranks."
Groaning, Chrom drummed his quill impatiently against his knee. He ignored the spots of ink marring his trousers, too deep in thought to care. "I said what I said," he announced, resolute. "Whether or not you think they're liars or a danger to us, I believe that we're making the best decision we can by having them here. Talent like that doesn't just drop in out of nowhere."
Or, at least, you don't usually find it unconscious in a field.
Frederick sighed. "Duly noted. I shall be taking these to Her Grace."
It was highly unusual for Emmeryn to make input towards Shepherding business beyond assigning missions, and especially not when Chrom was absent, but he allowed Frederick that small concession.
Chrom spent a restless night of pacing and thinking as thoughts of the interview whirled around in his head. He honestly hoped that Robin and Henry would be allowed admission to their ranks as official Shepherds. Imagine all that they could accomplish with their magic, their strategic thinking and awe-inspiring strength! Frederick would truly be the biggest fool if he did not at least consider that. And for all his repeated warnings, Chrom could not simply find much reason to give them weight. They seemed like kind, decent people.
At the very least, keeping them close could possibly reveal the mystery surrounding them. Chrom would be lying if he did not admit that he too burned with curiosity over their canny refusals to discuss their backgrounds. Lissa did say that some forms of amnesia were only temporary, after all.
And if they were lying…then spending time together could persuade them to drop their guard and trust him and the Shepherds.
He was dying to know why his Brand reacted so strongly to Robin. Why the Falchion seemingly awoke from slumber and instructed him to use it to heal her. It usually only acted in such a manner around his sisters, fellow bearers of Naga's blood, but years of acclimatisation to their presence meant his brand only hummed faintly with them. Did that mean Robin possessed Naga's blood as well? Some other dragon he had not yet heard of? Or was it something else entirely?
What kind of coincidence, exactly, had dropped her into his path?
Those questions and more swirled around in his head in a feverishly dizzying dance until he realised that dawn was fast approaching.
To Chrom's utter delight, Frederick's expression was downright displeased. That could only mean one thing.
"I knew you'd see the light of reason!" He laughed and squeezed Frederick in a tight embrace. The exasperated knight extricated himself from the prince's abnormally strong hold as gingerly as he could.
"I assure you that this is not the product of an epiphany or some misguided sense of pity," Frederick said sternly. "After a…rather heated discussion, I took Her Grace's input on the matter and decided that the best course of action was to allow them membership."
Leave it to Emm to get through to the worrywart! Chrom grinned.
"However. I yielded to her logic on the basis of being able to monitor them. Their claims are suspicious and not entirely trustworthy in my eyes. Should that be the case, I would much rather be present to keep a close eye on their activities to be able to determine their intentions and possible actions. And rest assured, I promise to keep a very close eye," Frederick warned.
Chrom could not care less at the moment. He was far too excited and had begun stripping his nightclothes off in his haste to start the day, ignoring the knight's scandalised look. "Hurry, Frederick! I want to make the announcement as early as I can!"
"Before breakfast, milord?"
"Especially before breakfast! It'll be a celebration—I'll ask the cooks to make it special!"
He was positively vibrating with unbridled enthusiasm as the Shepherds dutifully filed into the barracks for an unusually early morning announcement. Stahl's bed head was more pronounced than ever, and Maribelle had taken great pains to attempt to style her own coiffure into something more presentable. Vaike showed up in his nightclothes (or the closest semblance to them, since it was more like a loincloth, really). Chrom's face felt tight from all his smiling as the assembled company finished assuming their positions and waited for him to speak.
"Wow! Someone's up and early today! And excited too!" Vaike whistled. "What's the news, Cap? Something good happened?"
Chrom went straight to the point. "I would like to announced that Robin and Henry, starting today, are officially Shepherds."
Silence befell the barracks. All eyes went to Robin and Henry, who only just now, in their sleepiness, understood why Chrom insisted they stand next to him. A loud cheer startled them as Vaike whooped vociferously, followed by the rest of the Shepherds' clapping and exclamations of congratulations. Lissa was the first to run up to the pair to shake their hands, followed by Stahl, then Cordelia, and finally a timidly blushing Sumia.
Chrom ignored Sully glaring daggers.
The breakfast was a great success. Music was playing, servants plied them with delicious dishes, and the good mood surrounding their table proved to be rather infectious, suffusing the dining hall with a happy warmth.
Henry seemed to be taking it all in stride, conversing amiably with his new comrades as he ate and drank. Robin, unsurprisingly, was far more reserved; she protested as Chrom piled her trencher high with sausages, eggs, thick cuts of meat, bread, and freshly sliced apples.
"Is he always like this when new recruits are announced?" He heard her ask Sumia as he tucked in to his own food.
"Well…" Chrom could picture her pink blush perfectly. "Ch—the captain always did love the occasion. He says that we should celebrate it, since it's so difficult to make the cut. But you're lucky…this was the hardest and longest trial period I've ever seen, so it makes sense that he's so glad."
"First new recruits, and then the festival! This is really shaping up to be an exciting year!" Ricken called over the clamour of chatter and music.
And so the three week period ended on a relatively high note. Chrom was floating by on a cloud, too satisfied to really pay much mind to Frederick's nagging, Sully's moodiness, or any other issue that came their way. Robin and Henry seemed to be adjusting well to their new roles as Shepherds. Despite not seeing any martial action at the moment, they proved to be diligent workers, sticking closely to their assigned tasks and performing them well enough that even Frederick had no qualms over the quality of their work. Even so, he hovered around them so obviously that Chrom had half a thought to smack him and remind him to have a care for subtlety.
Their tranquility ended on the penultimate day of the week as Emmeryn informed him of urgent business.
"All right, listen, everyone: next morning, we'll be marching to Regna Ferox," Chrom announced.
Whispers broke out among the Shepherds until Frederick hushed them.
"What's the occasion? Who do we gotta rescue now?" Vaike shouted uncouthly from the back.
Chrom, smiling to himself over Vaike's antics, shook his head. "Emmeryn has informed me that this is an escort mission. She requested aid from Ferox to help keep watch over our western border as we prepare for the festival, and a delegation is also planning to travel south to be in attendance. Typically, the Exalt would make that kind of visit in person, but given some recent events, and the fact that we've received news of Risen massing up north…that means the task has been passed to us. We're to eliminate the Risen and accompany the Feroxi delegation back with us to Ylisstol." He cleared his throat. "Now, this mission is strictly voluntary. So if, for any—"
Lissa, naturally, was one of the first to interrupt. "I volunteer!"
"Me too! You'll be needin' ol' Teach along for such a delicate mission!" Vaike added.
Kellam, not that Chrom was paying much attention to him, raised his hand shyly. "I'll go as well…" He trailed off as he noticed Ricken and Vaike gaping at him, astonished. "What? I've been here the whole time!"
As the Shepherds engaged in a raucous discussion over what to pack on such short notice, what kind of strategies they would need against the Risen, and how the climate would feel up north, Chrom noticed Sumia discreetly making her way to him.
"I...I, um…" she began hesitantly.
The prince was always concerned that she acted so skittishly around him. Did she find him intimidating? They used to be very close as children, but, upon joining the Pegasus Knights, Sumia's disposition took a rather odd turn towards him, and he could never guess why. "Yes, Sumia?"
"It's just that...I'm not sure I'm quite ready for a proper mission just yet. I'd probably just get in the way."
Oh! She was still nervous over being a Shepherd. It was normal to feel that way, especially given her newness to the group along with Ricken. "Well, you could stay behind the main group, and if a battle is met, just watch and learn? Your choice, of course. But some lessons can only be learned on the battlefield."
"W-well, if you think it wise, Captain."
"Just stay by me and you'll be fine."
Sumia's eyes widened, and a bright, apple-red blush overpowered her skin colour, spreading fast over her face and neck until it seemed that she was practically glowing. The edges of her lips twitched faintly in what Chrom hoped was the beginnings of a smile—she was always so shy in his vicinity, and he was glad to see the change in attitude. And besides, a smile suited anyone's expression.
"Oh, yes! I mean—yes, sir, I'll do that!" True to character, Sumia's feet entangled quickly in her newfound excitement, and she toppled face first to the ground. Henry cackled as he helped pull her up along with Chrom and offered the flustered pegasus knight a handkerchief to wipe her bloody nose, coupled with a rather morbid comment about keeping it, unwashed.
"We've a long march ahead," Chrom said to Robin, who had been standing silently by his side. "Will you be able to handle the journey?"
She hummed in consideration as her unseen gaze swept over the clamour and chaos of the barracks. "Seeing as how it's Risen we're talking about…you said you needed my help to clear them, so I don't think I have much of a choice in the matter."
"Ah, that's not what I meant." Chrom said hastily. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to come if you don't want. We found you and Henry in pretty bad shape. We won't fault you for wanting to recuperate some more."
"Chrom, it's been a month since then."
"Not all wounds heal quickly. And even so, maybe you'd like to take some time to get to explore the castle, see to the party planning with Ricken, or anything that isn't as strenuous as battle."
Robin regarded him in a manner he felt to be a bit intense; he could not exactly gauge the full extent of it, seeing as how her hood hid her, but the sudden throbbing in his Brand was the biggest indicator.
"You always have a choice here with us," Chrom said gently. "Please don't think you don't."
Later after supper that night, Robin quietly approached him, and expressed her desire to join the escort party travelling north.
Chrom's face hurt from the size of his grin.
Aaand they're going north! I can't wait to write them in Ferox, and to finally met more of the cast!
But before we do that, I'm afraid we have to go back and revisit a certain someone…