A side project of sorts, one that is used to wrestle me from times where I'm unable to put forth words I want.
Robin is an asshole.
That's the conclusion that Chrom's sleep-addled brain makes after the condescending lecture given to from the Shepherd's newest tactician. He really doesn't need an hour-long lecture on trade routes at four in the morning.
"Chrom." Robin cuts through his thoughts like a blade to the flesh. "Are you even listening?" He stares at the prince from his position across the table. They're alone in the office of Ferox, where they've been granted a stay until the tournament's conclusion.
Chrom resists the urge to snap at the younger man. He has less than ten minutes to get away from the command tent, grab some modicum of breakfast before making it in time for Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour.
The tactician's still talking about bread.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm listening. Wheat trades and whatnot-" He waves off the white-haired man, slouching in his chair as Robin's eyes narrow.
"That was twenty minutes ago, I've moved onto our weapon supplies. You know, the thing that you're always complaining about like a Naga's damned housewife?"
It's so easy to dislike Robin. Chrom finds himself teetering by the abyss of loathing each and every day, but he knows that Robin means well. That he's just slightly more problematic out of their already-flawed bunch.
"Gods. You're going to be the future Exalt one day and you can't even listen to one talk? You'll have a coup before your uncaring ass even notices your country's problems."
It's so, so, so very easy to dislike him.
"Look-" He pauses Robin's vent with one of his own, almost letting venom leak into his tone. "I know you're just trying to help, I'm grateful. Really. But not when you do this at four in the Naga's damned morning!"
"So? What's the problem?"
Oh, how much joy he'd get from sinking his face right into his stom- Chrom clears his throat, both creating a lull in the conversation and to stop the voice in his head. Somewhere below them, Frederick is banging against doors, bellowing orders to make to the fields in five.
"It's just that, I'm really not a morning person in general; so-"
"So what? This is the future of your country you're talking about, missing a few hours of sleep isn't going to harm you any less than it does to the country." Chrom knows that they're both starting to get irritated at each other now, seconds from biting at each other's neck. Their discussions always end up like this, it's inevitable with someone like Robin.
"Yes, a few hours of sleep missing won't harm me, but they start to do after two consecutive weeks!" Chrom takes a deep breath to calm down, Robin isn't even phased by the sudden irritation.
"I don't see a problem; you sleep at eleven and you're woken at four in the morning, five hours is plentiful." Robin's starting to let irritation flash on his face as he stands up from his desks, leaning over to glare at Chrom.
"The problem is, that I'm not a machine, really." He winces internally as he speaks slowly as if conversing with a child. This isn't making the situation any better. Robin's eyes narrow at the implication. "So waking me up at four in the morning to discuss trade routes - which could literally be done over breakfast - isn't exactly ideal, yeah?"
Okay, maybe that was a bit too far. But before Chrom can utter any word of apology, Robin nods slowly to his statement, slamming the heavy book that's been filled with notes with a bit too much force.
"Of course, Chrom. Enjoy your breakfast." Chrom chews on the inside of his cheek, he shouldn't have said something like that. They've all been stressed, with the threat of Risen and a potential war brewing by the east, Robin's attitude just simply doesn't help.
Yes, Robin's always had the… Offensive personality, so he knows that what the man says is nothing like his actual self.
"Wait, Robin. I didn't mean it like-" His sentence is cut off as Robin calmly picks up the massive book and slides in carefully into a drawer before literally smashing it shut. Chrom swears he can see splinters landing onto the floor. There's no emotion present on the tactician's face, nothing but a stone-cold flat expression.
"You have a few minutes for breakfast, Chrom-" Robin spits the word out as if it runs a blade on his tongue. "I suggest you hurry."
Chrom obeys, hurriedly leaving the tent in regret.
Robin is an asshole.
Lissa comes to that statement as she watches the man kick aside a downed Vaike to finish off a bandit. The kicked man in question ends up rolling quite far into the undergrowth; branches, rock, thorns and brambles scratching at his bare skin.
They've offered to help with an ongoing bandit problem while they wait for the tournament, having arrived a week early means that they've got a week to help out and train. So here they are, ankles deep in snow as they protect a small village from being burned to the ground.
Their strategy is flawless - having infantry push forward slowly with constant healing while the cavalry flank the sides with archers and mages, too far away for any flames to scare the steeds.
But their tactician himself? He's got more flaws than tangles in her morning bedhead.
Lissa has no problems getting along with the tactician. Perhaps she just has too much energy for him to handle, so he tolerates her presence. She's pretty sure she's the closest thing Robin has to a friend in the Shepherds, seeing as she's the only one who bothers to put up with his… Well. Bullshit.
She's helped him a couple of times, brought some books from the library when he stays up, helped herself to some of his- made them both a wonderful tea to distract him and he's helped her too. The occasional bakery gift left at the foot of her bedroom door is obviously his doing, no matter how many times he declines and some of her own papers have all been spellchecked and proofread, although the corrections are practically invisible. Lissa had only found out when she intentionally spelled a curse word wrong.
But yes, he's still an asshole. Maybe a slightly nicer one, but nobody knows that. He's just an asshole to them.
"Get out the way!" Lissa feels a gloved hand clamp down onto her shoulder before she's unceremoniously tossed into a snowdrift, popping her head above the snow in a righteous fury, she turns to see Robin, with an ungloved hand grasping a bandit's face. The man thrashes against his grip, slicing at his arm clumsily with the blade in hand.
"Render." He whispers, his right-hand flashes with an ominous violet as Lissa hears a sickening crunch, the bandit's face collapsing in on itself as the entire body dissolves to ash.
It's Robin's magic - strangely the only one he can wield. Its power is limited to a meter at best, resulting in the tactician having an extremely close-combat style. He doesn't even use a sword, instead choosing to use a dagger to parry before reaching forward with his hand.
"What was that for?!" Lissa cries out, feeling the icy water trickle down her spine. Robin's magic was terrifying to see the first time, but she's long grown used to it. "You didn't have to throw me, did you?" She shivers in her drenched clothing, watching Robin shudder in pleasure to the vampiric spell that heals his cuts.
"You were in the way." Lissa's no therapist, but she knows that something's happened to Robin earlier. He's more offensive, less caring and simply being an asshole-plus. Not that Lissa would say it out loud. Really.
"And Vaike! You kicked him into there on purpose, didn't you?!" She gestures to the man, who's currently being healed by Maribelle. He takes a single look at Robin and gives him the finger, he isn't pleased. Lissa gives him a strained smile before turning back to Robin.
Robin cocks his head in return to the rude gesture before turning his attention back to the fray.
"He was in the way, the bandit I killed could have been a threat to Kellam if they got close enough with that axe of theirs." They're slowly but surely gaining the upper hand as each bandit is overcome through teamwork.
"Kellam? Wait, was he there-" Lissa scans the image before her briefly, focusing on the appearance of one that she's all but burned into her mind. Sure enough, he pops into existence, literally right next to where Vaike had been kicked. "What the-"
Her question is ignored as an arrow finds itself embedded in Stahl's steed, both the knight and mount crashing into a pile of snow alongside Virion, who ends up being surrounded by hungry swordsmen as he loses his protection.
Robin curses in a string of words that could even get Vaike's approval had he not literally kicked the man while he was down. If she didn't know before then Lissa now knows that something must've happened in the morning before they left. Was it Frederick's Hell Hour? Was it because Sully had been on cooking duty?
"Stay here, heal the front line if they get damaged, don't come crying to me if you get hurt." She scoffs, folding her arms as the tactician sprints off to their allies' direction.
"Come crying? I'd rather eat my own staff rather than come crying to you…" Nevertheless, she takes her position, continuously using her heal as they crush the resistance. She pointedly ignores Robin's shouted orders before several more nauseating crunches accompany the clashing of swords.
Lissa smiles evilly at the sight of an unsuspecting myrmidon, in her mind's eye; the man's face is replaced by Robin's.
She brings down her stave with godly might, and almost cracks the man's skull in the process. Leaving the man to stumble around in a daze before collapsing, she rejoins the frontlines, continuing as if nothing had ever happened.
Yes, Robin is an asshole. But she has a staff.
R-Robin… Robin is an asshole!
Sumia lets out a quiet 'eep' and hides behind the wagon as the shivering tactician storms forward, evidently furious with something. She's almost terrified by the fact that he might have heard her voice her own thoughts. She'd expect that, after all.
Robin's worse than the fat, ugly tactician mentioned in Knight of the Dance and the traitorous schemer in Pegasus Girls. He's the literal embodiment of 'lack of empathy' and 'uncaring'.
Sure, he's not that bad to look at. As long as he isn't glaring at you, mocking you, in at least a mile radius of you and as long as you don't know who he truly is. Sumia absently brushes the mane of the pegasus she'd picked up on their way to Ferox. At least his tactics work, she shrugs. As long as it gets them to victory, then she can both win and have no contact with the vile man at all.
Not that she has personally spoken to him at all, though. But from what she can gather from pure observation alone, she can safely conclude that Robin isn't the typical prince of Ylisse.
"Achoo!" Lissa somehow manages to retain the grace of a princess while sneezing, rubbing her nose on the sleeve of the strangely-familiar coat that isn't hers. Sumia slows her pace down so that she's walking beside her as Maribelle does the same.
"Are you quite alright, dear? I saw the fall you took while fighting. Quite the nasty piece of work, isn't he?" Maribelle tuts, offering a handkerchief to the princess. "Are you cold? Do you need another change of clothes?" Sumia stays quiet, Maribelle's much better at taking care of things than she is.
"Nah… I think I got this handled- Achoo! - with this coat and all-" Lissa looks like a toddler wearing her father's clothes with how small she is compared to the size of the coat. Sumia takes in its appearance as the princess waves the sleeves around like whips, she's almost entranced at how the gold lining dances on the sunlight-
Wait.
Wait.
Maribelle seems to have taken notice too, as her eyes widen slightly in surprise. Maybe fear.
"Lissa, dear." Maribelle sounds like she's delivering horrifying news to a patient. "Do you know what coat that is? In fact, who it belongs to?"
Lissa replies by sneezing into the sleeve again, much to their horror.
"Oh no…" Sumia finally speaks up. Lissa's poked the dragon, she's challenged the wyverns, she's exposing the fat and ugly tactician. She's… She's… She's…
She's not going to live until the end of the day.
"Lady Sumia? A word, please." Maribelle pulls Sumia aside, leaving Lissa there to continue sneezing into Robin's prized coat. They've slowed their pace so much that Chrom and Frederick - who have been chatting pleasantly while trailing the group - raise an eyebrow.
"Does she know what she's done?!" Maribelle gives the two a friendly wave as Sumia shyly does the same. Maribelle's lowered her voice to a frightening whisper.
"I don't think so-" They take a moment as Lissa sneezes once more into Robin's most prized possession.
They don't even have time to think of a plan, or an alibi, or anything. Because Robin's already striding towards Lissa with a pissed expression. Sumia's pegasus has retreated to where she and Maribelle are while Sully and Stahl peek over the wagon that they sit on top of.
"Oh no…" Sumis repeats her initial words in a low moan, half tempted to call for Chrom to help with the situation. Perhaps her Captain will only lose an arm. She'd still love him anyway.
"Oh, hi Robin!" Lissa chirps towards the tactician, who's wearing nothing more than a thin shirt and trousers. It doesn't help that the shirt's wet, because Sumia can see the scandalous signs of lean muscle through the shirt, all the way down to his chest and-
"I came back to get my coat." He states simply, but anyone watching the interaction can see the fury rolling off of him. "But it appears to have been… Soiled." His expression doesn't change, which somehow terrifies her more.
"Uh… Oops?" Sumia doesn't know how in Naga's divine name Lissa manages to stay easygoing in Robin's presence, she's arguably the only one who hasn't ever snapped to Robin's attitude… Probably. "I'll have it cleaned, no biggie."
"I'm sure you will." They watch in horror as he raises his right hand, reaching for her face. Sumia knows that this is the end of Lissa as she knows it, that they're too far away to stop the incoming calamity.
Robin flicks Lissa's forehead, causing a resounding 'Yowch!' from the sniffling girl.
"Tomorrow, four in the morning. Dried." He stalks off, unaware of the two ladies sighing in relief as he disappears amongst the chatting Shepherds.
Sumia almost laughs at the relief that really shouldn't be there in the first place, there's hardly any reason Robin would suddenly commit murder, right? Yeah?
"Sumia."
Naga, even her pegasus starts at Robin's calamitous voice as his left-hand lands onto her shoulder. "I have words for you, a moment. If you please." He jerks his free hand to the storage wagon in the front, not even acknowledging Maribelle's presence before he walks off towards said wagon.
"Oh dear." Maribelle sounds a lot less relieved than two seconds ago. "Oh dear." She repeats.
Stahl gives her a concerned glance, Sully gives her an awkward thumbs up. Virion gives his usual smile and Donnel salutes solemnly.
Goodbye, my friends. It was wonderful knowing you.
Sumia sends an awkward smile to her Captain before climbing into the storage wagon, her heartbeat spiking madly.
At least let her keep her life, please?
Okay, Chrom is following Sumia because he is worried that Robin is an asshole. Okay? Not for any other reason, merely concern for her wellbeing.
He leaves Frederick with Maribelle before striding towards the wagon, fully intending on stopping whatever madness that Robin intends to create.
For Sumia's wellbeing, of course. Because Robin - not always - is an asshole.
Quietly trailing the back of the cart, he turns his attention to the two sitting individuals, straining his princely ears to catch anything. Stahl gives him a strange look before returning to his blueberry muffins.
"First of all." Robin drawls, shivering slightly. Oh, Chrom sees it now. He can clearly see the slim muscle underneath that sopping, wet, undry and cold shirt. He can clearly see how Sumia's eyes cautiously dart up to Robin's before back down to that sopping, wet, undry, cold, uncomfortable, disgus-
Sumia's wellbeing. Robin asshole. Sumia's wellbeing. Robin asshole. Chrom repeats the mantra in his head, the pair continue their chat; completely unsuspecting of a spying prince.
"First of all, I want to say that what you did just there - diving into the back to pick up Virion as we fought - was beyond stupid." Chrom has half the mind to yell at them, but he refrains. Sumia winces with every syllable that Robin says, shrinking herself into the seat as much as possible.
Chrom has no problem with the tactician, really. He even likes to think that they get on well when they play their games of chess in the evening with a glass of wine. It's just that he's been irked by him after this morning and he's sure that Robin's irked too.
No problem. Yep. Really.
"But second of all-" Robin's tone softens considerably, so much that Chrom almost headbutts the wagon in shock. He hasn't heard the tactician speak like that in the entire time he's known him. "I want to thank you."
Sumia seems to be just as flabbergasted as her Captain hidden under them. "Thank?! Thank?!" Her face looks like a cherry tomato and she's suddenly started to avoid looking anywhere in Robin's general direction.
"While what you did was absolutely stupid, foolhardy and suicidal - something that only an idiot would do, really-" Robin pauses his drawl and meets with her eye to eye, a - By the gods - ghost of a smile on his face. "You saved not only my life but the lives of Stahl, Virion and Stahl's steed. That's something to be proud about."
Okay, Chrom has a problem with the tactician.
"W-Wha- I mean- Yea-No! I mean! Yes! No! Thank you? Me?" Sumia's been turned into a blubbering mess, she's even started to fan her face in the freezing air. "I mean, anyone else would do the same so there's really no need for-"
"Nevertheless, thanks is necessary." Robin nods slightly to the flushed lady, she really can't maintain eye contact with him. "In fact…" He leans forward slightly, whispering something into Sumia's ear.
Chrom has to stop himself from stabbing the wagon with Falchion as Sumia's eyes light up and a bright grin replaces her nervous smile, although the blush still remains.
"You'd really do that?!" She almost squeals, a joyful expression painted on her face. Robin nods slowly, the ghostly smile still present as she laughs. A sound that no-one expected, as Stahl turns from his muffins to face her and even Frederick raises an eyebrow. No-one apart from Lissa simply laughs in the presence of Robin, literally no-one at all. Not even Virion, who has been rejected a total of forty-five times consecutively to play chess, now that Chrom thinks about it.
"We'll wait until after the tournament, nothing better than having it after a meal." Robin graciously allows Sumia to take the lead of the conversation, her nervous expression slowly breaking down as they continue to chat, much to the chagrin of the prince of Ylisse.
Support Rank:
Chrom: C
Lissa: C
Sumia: C
An idea of sorts that came to my mind, I took a look at the discarded possibilities when starting From the Ashes and put together this: Where Robin is quite literally the textbook definition of a 'tsundere'
Chapter length for this story will remain consistent, although I am extending the length of chapters for From the Ashes, it's an entirely different behemoth in its own right.