Apologies for the hiatus, but I've worked my way up from having two part-time gigs for October to full time unemployment status for November, so this should see a little more action over the next few weeks!
In other news, Scourge of Infinis has brought to my attention that despite my best efforts, I'm not able to catch all my mistakes. So if anyone has the time or desire to act as a beta, PM me? The story will benefit and you don't have to wait in line like everyone else.
"Show me the way to go home…"
Robin blinked, mind still sluggish from pain taking a moment to return to the present. Slow, deep humming and a rhythmic scraping came from the darkness outside the cage.
Just listening to it hurt.
"...'Cause I'm tired and I wanna go to bed…"
He moved swollen eyes. They hurt too. He didn't know how much time had passed, but the small circular windows were much dimmer now.
A pale torso slipped in and out of sight, pushing a mop. Robin took in the tatoos. He bit his lip, abdomen aching, muscles barely able to contract enough to sit up against the cage wall.
"... Had a little drink about an hour ago, and it's gone straight to my head."
The left shoulder was heavily scarred. Branded, in the shape of a hand. Thief, convicted in Valm.
The torso disappeared again and the scraping stopped. It was silent for a moment before the familiar deep voice spoke.
"Was wondering when you'd wake up. They worked you over better than most..."
Robin's chuckle turned into a cough.
"You guys make a decision yet?" Robin asked, wiping his mouth.
The hull creaked in the quiet.
"I don't make decisions... Or we'd be on our way to Valm, and your friend would be free. Alive and well."
"How noble of you."
"Hey, I'm sorry, alright?" Gaius' face appeared briefly as he leaned forward. His expression was of genuine distaste before he pulled back, "I don't get to say that often. So I mean it. But no one was supposed to get hurt during this. Way I figure, you both keep your mouths shut, they'll ship everyone out to Valm together‒"
"Those tattoos. You're from Valm," Robin changed topics, knowing Gaius' hopes would have little bearing on their fate.
"Maybe I'm from Ylisse?"
"Ylisse exiles their thieves, they don't brand them," Robin gestured to the boy's shoulder, "That or you lost an epic slap-boxing contest."
"You got me," Gaius muttered, looking at his shoulder, "Heavyweight title. You shoulda seen the other guy though."
"C'mon, 'Gaius.' Cassius, Tigris, it's not hard to spot a Valmese name. You play chess?"
"Not well." Something scraped again and Gaius reappeared close to the cage. The boy placed a bucket upside down and sat beside him.
"Just as well, you'd need a partner." Robin glanced at Chrom's unconscious body and sighed, "And I think he's dead."
"Shame, he was the handsomer one," Gaius sighed wistfully as Chrom groaned in his slumber. His attention shifted back to Robin and his eyes narrowed. "What're you sorry for?"
"Sorry?" Robin rested his head against the cage, meeting Gaius' green eyes in the dim.
"Yeah. When you were out you kept muttering you were sorry, like you were talking to someone."
"First: I wasn't 'out.' I was resting my eyes because I haven't slept in like…"
Robin trailed off, losing focus. Gaius cleared his throat and Robin blinked, looking at him, "And B) I'm never sorry. Clean conscience."
"You're either a liar or very lucky."
"Can I be both?"
Gaius chuckled in acquiescence that he wasn't getting anything from him and changed the subject.
"You've a sharp mind."
"Oh, I bet you say that to all the pretty victims you kidnap." Robin tried to yawn but wasn't sure his jaw could handle the range of motion so he suppressed it.
"Well not to speak ill of my colleagues, but consider my usual daily interactions. I'll enjoy having actual conversations for the journey back."
"Not to burst your bubble, but there's no chance that's happening. I'm probably going to escape within the hour," Robin replied, watching Gaius for a reaction.
"I should warn Vincent or Victor, then."
Gaius' open grin told him all he needed to know. He had an ally on this ship. Then the boy slapped his knee.
"Got it, that'll be your nickname."
"Robin?"
"Bubbles."
"Please no."
"Well 'Bubble-burster' is too long and gives the entirely wrong idea, but Bubbles fits you perfectly!"
"Then I'm glad I'll be dead soon," Robin muttered as Chrom stirred.
"Hey, don't talk like that. Death is depressing," Gaius consoled, sitting back into the dark as an idea struck Robin.
"You saw the organization we work with… I'd have to double check, but I don't think we've filled the position of Company Criminal yet."
"Sorry, I don't turn over contracts."
"Shame," Robin clicked his cheek, "Would pay well."
"Personal policy, it's a professional thing."
A pregnant pause filled the air.
"Okay it probably looks pretty black and white from the other side but it's what separates me from Vincent or Victor."
"Technically speaking, they've already turned over your contract..." Robin began, trailing off as lantern light illuminated feet coming down the steps.
"Deck cleaned, boy?"
"Could eat off it," Gaius answered, kicking the bucket back and moving to don his shirt.
"Great, you can watch as we crack these two funny-boys good."
Two men stepped in front of the cage, grinning as they opened the door. Robin and Chrom hadn't been bound on account that they could barely move, and the thugs stooped to throw them unceremoniously over their shoulders and carry them up the stairs. Robin could only watch the back of the burly man's legs and the deck, but the cool air and wind told him they were now outside.
The stars were beginning to show as a cold ocean breeze whipped up. They were in a beautiful cove surrounded by lush trees and clear blue water, waterfall behind the ship feeding into the large pool that connected to the ocean. Schools of silver fish caught the moonlight and an exotic bird called from somewhere in surrounding forest. It would have been better if a dozen hairy, muscle-bound men weren't surrounding them.
"Like it?" Victor called from a table in the middle of the deck. Or was that Vincent?
"What's not to like?" The other large brother strode into view, spinning a mallet in one hand.
They were twins. Identical to the stupid designs shaved into their hair. Somehow it made their interactions even creepier.
"It's our little getaway… A place to lay low and enjoy some nature."
"Really?" Robin stared.
"What's wrong with that?" they rounded on him.
"You just… Don't seem the type."
"Nature is beautiful. Just look at my dear brother," one said. They looked out over the cove, arms on one another's shoulder.
Robin and Chrom shuddered.
"Enough talk!" A brother waved a hand in the air, gathering the brigands as Robin and Chrom were brought to the table.
"Vincent came up with the idea ‒ what do funny men value most?" The one who must have been Victor asked, stared at Robin expectantly.
"Our… Funny bones?"
"The same thing all men value most!" Victor corrected, yanking open Chrom's shirt and pulling his pants down. Robin didn't have time to be embarrassed as his own were next to go.
"So, the first one who tells us who's royal, doesn't become bangers and mash!"
Vincent spun the mallet from the side of the table and slammed it down, leaving a semi-circle dent in the wood.
Robin grimaced as he was positioned at the edge of the waist-high table by two men. The nearest brigand stared at his smallclothes.
"It's cold," he explained defensively.
"So, where's the hammer gonna fall?!"
"Aren't you going to kill us anyway? Does this matter?" Chrom asked Vincent as the mallet swung like a pendulum.
It slipped from his grasp and Chrom flinched as it landed by his hip.
"Think that answers that," Vincent grinned, recovering the mallet, "You've got five seconds."
"Come on!"
"Four…"
"You can't seriously…"
"Three."
"Okay!" Robin threw himself against the table as the mallet rose, "Okay, you win Victor‒!"
"Vincent."
"Whatever." Robin took a deep breath, "That's the prince. So don't hurt him."
"That is a lie!" Chrom objected as Vincent turned from him. The large man turned back, staring. "He's the prince, you morons."
"Don't listen to him, I'm just the advisor," Robin pleaded humbly, "He's trying to save me, being the naively, childishly heroic royalty he is."
"I'm just doing my duty as a faithful, frequently asinine advisor," Chrom shouted across the table, thrashing against the men holding him, "That's the true prince!"
"He's obviously lying, as nobility is wont to do," Robin raised his eyebrow at the nearest brigand who nodded slowly, "So they can control the populace and secure their power as sovereign families‒"
"My family are but simple shepherds, and that's true a fact as any!" Chrom interrupted, causing Robin to roll his eyes.
"Enough!" Vincent stared around at his brother who shrugged.
None of the captors knew what to do. They'd never had hostages so eager for The Emasculator before.
"Tell the truth or… Or I'll crush his!" Vincent pointed to Chrom and made his way around the table, but the shouting match quickly resumed and he ran a hand over his scalp.
"We can't hit the royal jewels…" Vincent murmured to Victor, who stuck out his bottom lip in careful calculation. It looked like hard work.
"Fifty-fifty is good odds."
"Alright alright, look, see the mark? On his shoulder!" Robin pointed with his chin, sensing the game was up. Whoever they neutered would bleed out anyway and he wasn't going to risk that being Chrom.
Chrom's instinct was to flinch away to hide the brand but it only served to verify Robin's claim. "See, the brand! The mark of the exalt!"
"Are all the exalts branded?"
"First time I've heard that… What like with irons?"
"No, they're just…" Robin frowned, curious now. "Prince Chrom how does that work?"
"Robin!"
"Prince Chrom, now that rings a bell," Vincent muttered, grinning triumphantly.
"That's right, he's Prince Chrom, I'm‒!"
"No one of import," Vincent grinned, waving a hand over his shoulder dismissively as Robin was hauled away.
Robin's trousers were pulled up as a dagger pressed against his neck, guiding him around to face the ocean. Chrom cried out before being interrupted by another voice.
"Hey hey! Not on the deck you mules, I just washed that!" Gaius called out. Thugs looked back to Vincent who was sniffing Chrom, and Victor nodded. Exhales of exasperation were heard around him as the knife lowered.
They lowered the rope ladder and bound Robin's wrists. He was draped over a thick shoulder, carried to a boat and brought to stand in ankle-deep water a short distance from the ship.
He could barely stand by himself, let alone push the dagger away as it came around his shoulder again.
"Oi! Get away from the pools you ingrates!"
They looked up to see Vincent leaning over the deck, waving them off.
"Nature! I don't want to see a body floating in circles around the bloody waterfall!"
Robin exhaled in relief as heavier breaths of annoyance sounded around him, and he splashed forward as a strong hand hit his back.
"Take him into the forest! Someplace I can't see!"
The men grumbled and marched Robin along, complaining that it wouldn't matter once they made way. Robin watched the sky, allowing the hand on his back to support him as he listened to the three sets of feet splashing behind him. The stars were coming out, making the jungle canopy quite scenic.
"Don't worry, it's just like going to sleep," a gruff voice interrupted his appreciation. "And then worms will get ye."
The voice was proud of a veteran life as intimidating muscle. Robin looked over his shoulder, inspired.
"What?"
"The worms will eat all yer soft spots, then the critters will take ye apart. Bit, by bit." A shriller voice added. Robin could hear the grin.
"The worms," Robin repeated, resisting the hand now to look at them. "Before anything with teeth, claws or legs, worms are gonna beat them all to the punch."
"Y-yeah." The bigger ruffian nodded confidently, but Robin recognized the subtle tone of being caught on a tightrope walk between being saying something stupid, yet committing to save face. He flushed in the dim light and pushed Robin forward again. They went over a hill and the ship disappeared from sight. Now they were surrounded by thick trees, foliage blocking sight five meters in any direction. There would be no fleeing, the sounds of leaves and branches would give a mouse away.
"How."
"What?"
"How are worms going to get to me before everything else? Are they super-worms?"
"How about you shut your mouth and just think about your body, bored through by worm teeth, laying their eggs and..."
An awkward silence fell over them, only sound coming from their trudging feet.
"You don't know anything about worms do you? They're defenseless, slow, and could not fend off literally anything that wanted to eat my body. Explain how are they going to get me first."
"Because you'll be in the ground!" The scrawny one exclaimed, pointing at him victoriously.
Robin pointedly looked them over.
"You're digging my grave... With your hands? I mean I don't want to tell you how to do your jobs‒"
"We just forgot the shovel. Lenny!" The burly one jerked his head back to the ship. The least grizzled of the three threw Robin an ugly look, and marched back up the hill.
A bird called in the evening air. Robin inhaled, tenderly tilting his neck to crack one side, then the other.
"You guys are really committing to this."
"We usually just say something like that to freak them out, keep em from thinking rationally," the scrawny one explained sheepishly, "Their last thoughts were 'these guys are really scary!'"
"Yeah, you definitely wouldn't want them thinking the exact opposite of that. Like I am right now."
"He doesn't have to be alive anymore, right?" The big one growled, face reddening.
"You want to dig my grave? I thought the victims usually did that," Robin held up his bound wrists.
"You're special."
The big one spun Robin suddenly, holding his arms as the skinny one readied a dagger.
"N-no, c'mon guys shouldn't we wait for Lenny‒!"
Robin struggled uselessly against the iron grip as the knife pushed through his shirt. It struggled to break skin until the man leaned into him with all his weight.
"Ow ‒ Ow ow okay OW!" Robin yelped, jerking away as the steel buried itself to the hilt before sliding free.
The big man laughed. "You need to sharpen yer blade!"
"Sharp as a razor! But it's like stabbing… Something really tough to stab!" Robin was pierced again in demonstration. "See?"
"What is wrong with you? Who ‒ Gah-ow-STOP!"
"I wanna have a go," the large one insisted, throwing Robin to the ground.
Blood poured down Robin's robe and arms as he stumbled forward, fingers sliding through leaves.
"Oi, we've got a proper fighter here!" The skinny one whooped, clapping as Robin stood with a tree branch, "Better look out, he's armed!"
The big man bellowed with laughter, arms invitingly wide as he strode to meet the staggering tactician. He made a show of toughness, not even attempting to block the oncoming branch coming straight for his grinning face. A show he regretted a half second before impact as the branch erupted in flames.
The big man fell with a crack, cinders raining across trees and dirt as the other man scrambled backward. Robin hissed as he raised his arms, trying to take aim as lightheadedness gripped him.
Fireballs roared past the ruffian as he serpentined up the slope.
"'Ey! Oi, help! Captive's loose!"
Robin swore, turning his hands inward to burn through his bindings and singing his wrists.
The sounds of the brigand's voice were drowned as the wind rose to a roar. Leaves and dirt whipped around him but he kept his head down, finding handholds to climb the last few meters.
"Ain't dying to no bloody mage ‒ not today," he grunted, shielding his eyes as he pulled himself over a small cliff.
He tried calling for help again but couldn't even hear himself. It was like a hurricane behind him, trees and wind making summoning aid impossible. Not that it mattered, once he got over this ledge‒
"What the bloody‒!"
He looked up in time to see a shovel as he and Lenny collided, tumbling back down the slope.
Between the noise and the rocks and the pain the fall felt forever. Neither ruffian was sure how long they lay still, their vision still swirled after the tumble. But the forest was silent again. Peaceful. A few leaves twirled gently down towards them as the trees stopped swaying.
Rustling footsteps and a grunt preceded a torso looming over him with a shovel.
"Don't worry, I hear it's just like going to sleep."
Chrom stopped testing his restraints to the mast, looking up as the dense jungle seemed to come alive. Trees swayed, wind howled and the ship rocked slightly with the waves.
"Like mum used to say…" Victor called, gesturing to the crew and pointing to the ocean. "Stop wearing me knickers…"
"And go west!" Vince finished, standing at the prow and pointing ahead.
"What 'bout Lenny and the others‒?"
"We'll buy a new shovel," Vince shook his head and motioned to haul anchor.
"Sounds like your friend is still kicking."
Chrom looked around as Gaius moved to stand between him and Victor. The boy's arms were behind his back as crew hurried about, throwing worried looks at the jungle as the wind died. Movement caught his eye and he looked down to Gaius' wrist where a shiv tapped. The boy muttered out of the side of his mouth.
"When we clear the cove jump over the port-side, wind's carrying north so it'll buy you a few minutes. They're going to send boats to sweep the coastline, stay in the jungle ‒ stay hidden, eventually the mountains push you back out to the waterside and you'll be back at Port Ferox."
Chrom stared at him.
"They'll kill you."
"Nah."
Gaius strolled around the mast. Chrom felt a wooden handle pressed into his palm, fingers wrapping his around the grip before letting go.
"Oi!"
Chrom looked up to see Victor staring behind him.
"Boy! Get working!"
"Yessir," Gaius answered, hurrying below deck.
The ship was moving now, nearing the rocky entrance as Chrom sawed fervently. It was much duller than it appeared, he might have been using a potato peeler. At this rate they'd be a kilometer out before he got free, and he wasn't a strong swimmer when he wasn't beaten to hell. He grimaced, chafing his wrists in trying to loosen the ropes.
"Cap'ns! The sails!"
Eyes turned skyward to see the sails battling physics, unable to catch the wind to pull them out to sea.
"The hell‒?!"
"It's 'im!"
Voices called attention to the beach where a robed figure made wide swinging motions with his arms, changing the direction of the wind when the sails tried to compensate.
"The oars!" Vincent bellowed.
"They won't reach him!" Gaius pretended to panic.
"To move us!"
"Water's too deep!" Victor shouted, pointing to Gaius, "Bring me fabled hatchet!"
"If the water's too deep for oars..." Gaius began helplessly.
Victor looked ready to tear him in half when another brigand appeared with a hatchet.
Chrom was curious as to what made the modest-looking hatchet so fabled, but didn't dare draw attention to himself. Robin was buying him time he intended to make use of.
Gaius wrinkled his nose as Victor uttered a short prayer for "Orsin" and kissed the haft before offering it to Gaius, who politely declined. Victor stood straight, smelling the air, slowly pulling the hatchet back like a ballista readying a bolt.
"You're… Going to throw that?" Gaius frowned between him and the figure on the shore a hundred meters away. It wasn't an impossible target ‒ if the winds weren't whipping in every direction, and the target wasn't moving or capable of moving. As was however, it seemed a strange waste of such a revered artifact.
"A more accurate axe you'll never find," Victor looked past his shoulder at him, and winked. "And Orsin always comes back to me."
He exhaled and threw, announcing the attack with a bellow. The robed figure stopped moving his arms and watched. Gaius' heart skipped.
The figure didn't move as the axe spun head over shaft cutting through the air like a buzzsaw. The dark form took one step to the right and continued moving his arms and the axe buried itself in the sand behind him.
Victor swore loudly.
"So it's… Not coming back to you?" Gaius clarified, trying to understand how exactly that would work.
"It does!" Victor snarled.
Strong arms gripped Gaius' belt and collar, hoisting him overhead. The next seconds were cold wind followed by colder water, then Gaius broke the surface.
"And don't come back without it!"
"Jackass…" Gaius gasped incredulously as the cold penetrated his clothes. He spotted the landing boat still pulled ashore, and swam for it.
High above the forest the wind current shifted suddenly, causing Minerva to hiss and flap wildly to remain airborne.
"I haven't been a Shepherd long, but when forces of nature are colliding…" Cherche muttered, eyes narrowed as she scanned the trees below them, "There's usually one man in the middle."
Lucina didn't need convincing, holding onto Cherche's armor as she spurred Minerva forward. The wyvern protested at first, adjusting to the new currents as they shifted again, but flew higher. A silhouette emerged in the distance.
"Are those sails?" Lucina asked, leaning forward.
Cherche whistled and Minerva flew forward. As they neared they could see the ship struggling to make way. A lone figure on the beach exchanged fireballs for miscellaneous objects with the man on the ship. The sand around the robed figure was littered with hammers, mugs, an oar.
"I'm… Unsure what I'm looking at," Lucina admitted.
"It would seem one man is taking on an entire ship," Cherche's voice became louder as the hair rose around their ears, Minerva beginning to plunge, "Time to even the odds."
"Be careful of collateral damage until we find my father," Lucina reminded her, fireball meeting a sail below them and eating through the fabric.
"Dragon! Dragon!"
Cries came from below as the wyvern tore through the sail, splaying on the deck and roaring. Brigands scattered, panicked screams filling the air as the large man on the deck turned to them.
"Can't something go right today?!" he bellowed, hefting two axes and making towards Minerva as Cherche turned to deal with rallying thugs. Lucina rolled off and engaged the man, but quickly found herself falling back against his wild swinging. While he was warmed up with all the throwing, she'd just spent the last two hours sitting rigid in a saddle.
"Me brother an' I jus want a simple life a luxury, and you lot can't leave well enough alone!" he grunted between swings, sudden knee to her stomach making her double.
He grinned, dropping his weapons and taking her in a bear hug. She gasped, arms bound to her side as he squeezed.
"But I like yer fightin' spirit. Maybe you can come along for the trip. It's going be a long, lonely‒"
She bit into his chin, hard.
"Not me chin!" he screeched, dropping her like a snake as he recoiled to assess the damage. "Brother!"
Lucina spat, wiping her mouth as she recovered Falchion and gave chase. She rounded the stairs and nearly crashed into Gaius scrambling over the rail.
"You..." She grimaced, weapon rising.
"W-wait!"
Another voice stopped her. Robin's head appeared by Gaius' feet.
"You!" she snarled, sword making to plunge when a wyvern shriek ripped the air. The mast cracked with the sound of thunder, top half plummeting towards the deck.
Robin stretched through the railing, grabbing Lucina's belt and yanking backward. The ship rocked and she hit the railing as the flaming crow's nest smashed through the deck behind her.
She stopped struggling and turned as Gaius helped Robin onto the deck.
"Smooth move," Gaius muttered, eyeing the smoldering hole as flames spread through the galley.
"Hm?"
"Nice save," Gaius explained, gesturing at Lucina who stared at him.
"Oh, my foot slipped. I just grabbed for the most rigid thing I could find," Robin explained, wincing as he stepped around the broken wood for the stairs.
"It wasn't anywhere near me," Lucina added, shouldering roughly past Gaius to follow.
Gaius looked back to the hole with a raised eyebrow, then to the spots of blood leading up the stairs.
Cherche whipped around, hearing the rising cry long before the attacker was even close to being in range with the oversized ladle he'd scavenged. Blood dripped from his chin and his eyes were wild, driven by anger.
She whistled and Minerva thrashed the man against the deck, pinning him with one foot as talons dug into the wood on either side. He coughed meekly, struggling to regain his breath waving his ladle in the air.
Cherche dismounted and took the improvised weapon from him.
"All out of steel?" she crouched, tapping his nose with the heel of the ladle, "You took someone dear to me."
"Yer a looker ain't you," Victor caught his breath, grinning. "Can I be dear to you?"
"You can be dead to me," she sighed, standing and turning away.
"C'mon then, bet you're fine in the sack," Victor chuckled, straining against the reptilian foot.
"Minerva," Cherche ignored him, "Eat."
"W-whoa hold on love, only jokin'! You obviously want something, yeh? Or the beastie could've eaten my face at the first go around, no need to chat up a storm." He grinned, "Just name yer price!"
"Oh, no." Cherche carefully scraped something crusted out of the bowl of the ladle, "I was simply explaining why you're going to die."
Minerva struck like a cobra as Cherche tossed the utensil aside, spotting Robin at the far end of the deck. He stared at her, then smiled.
"Thank the gods you're alright," she moved quickly to him as Gaius and Lucina appeared.
"The gods have been very unhelpful today, actually," Robin objected, looking over her shoulder as she embraced him, "What's Minerva eating?"
"Nothing of import," she answered before a cry filled the air.
"What've you bastards done with Victor!?"
They looked to the main deck where the twin dragged Chrom from behind the fallen mast.
"Father!"
Lucina jumped the railing as Robin looked back to Minerva, then Cherche, who put a hand to her mouth.
"Oh dear."
"Not another step!" Vincent shouted, dagger appearing by Chrom's neck, "Where's my brother?!"
Lucina stopped, glaring back at them, Do something!
"He's…" Robin made a noncommittal sound ‒ one long vowel buying time for another word. He looked back once more. Minerva chewed, watching him with zero apology.
"Sleeping?"
"Bloody ship's on fire, sail's shredded, crew fled, and you want me to believe Victor's havin' a nap?"
"That could explain why he's unavailable at the moment."
"Show me my brother!" Vincent screamed, a thin trail of blood running down Chrom's neck.
"Vince..." Robin winced, taking a step towards the stairs. He stumbled, catching himself on the rail. Everyone stared at him but he resumed speaking as if nothing happened, "How do you want this to end?"
"I want to see‒!"
"Yes, and after that, whatever happens, what do you want to happen?"
"What're you gettin' at?" Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"I just want to know what you plan to do. Retire, get a new ship, a new crew‒"
"I'm gonna sell this git, get paid, and live like a king!"
Robin made a sympathetic frown when he reached the bottom of the stairs, sidling slowly along the hole in the deck.
"I think we both know," he gestured around him, "that isn't going to happen. Even if we were to let you walk away with him, you don't have a ship. Let's think real, what are your options."
"I have a hostage!" Vincent grinned madly, brandishing the knife again.
"Yes, but a hostage is only good if they're alive," Robin explained calmly, still walking along the side of the ship with his hands raised non-threateningly. "If you kill him, we pretty much have to kill you, and I don't think you want that. You're the brains, right? Think big!"
"You'd be out a prince, and a friend‒" Vincent licked his lips, nodding with his eyebrows.
"And you'd be dead," Robin reminded him, raising a hand to preemptively silence Lucina. "I'm no negotiator, but that seems like a bad deal for you."
Lucina closed her mouth as Cherche rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Or! You can let him go, and we can let you go," Robin finished with a smile, holding his arms out as if for a hug to seal the deal.
Vincent stared at him, then the others. "Is he mental?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Ehhhhh." Gaius shrugged, but shook his head, "But what other cards do you have to play?"
Vincent licked his lips again, sweat beading his brow. Flames were visible from the stairs to the lower decks.
"Unless you want to continue this while treading water, we should probably reach an agreement soon…?" Robin took a tentative step towards them.
"I can't leave without Victor. We been together since‒"
"A long time I'm sure," Robin grimaced with a hint of annoyance, swaying slightly. He was losing him, Vincent's wandering gaze showing lack of focus.
"So what's it going to be? Victor can't help you now, it's your choice what happens from here."
Vincent spun suddenly in time to see Falchion catch the firelight. The loudest part of the strike was him hitting the deck, and Lucina rushed to her father.
"Lucina…" Chrom uttered, looking between Vincent and Falchion as she freed him. He took her in a hug of silent gratitude, then looked over her head to Gaius. "Thanks for the dull blade."
Gaius frowned. "Sharp as a razor. Were you using it right?"
"It's a knife!"
"Lord Chrom?" Cherche asked, looking over his shoulder in worry.
"A single-edged knife, yes," Gaius explained, eyes narrowed.
"Well you could have told me that," Chrom muttered, flushing. "How was I supposed to know?"
"It's a knife!"
"Chrom!" Cherche exclaimed, rushing forward.
The others turned, seeing Robin face down.
"How is this a good idea? Explain it to me."
"The khans pride strength ‒ if the very prince of the kingdom asking for aid is the one to earn favor, that carries weight!" Chrom argued.
"And if Sir Killsalot enters the arena again?" Robin demanded, gesturing across the open arena to where Basilio stood, arms folded beside the previous round's bloody champion.
"I don't think that will be a concern," Flavia muttered, producing an apple and pointing.
They followed her gaze to the arena entrance where a masked figure strode onto the sands. Even in the evening torchlight, the form was recognizable.
"Marth…?" Chrom muttered, nudging Robin who nodded slowly with a frown. "Why is he here?"
"I don't like this." Robin shook his head, looking around the stands now, "This doesn't make sense."
"Has anything, lately?"
"Last we saw he was in Ylisse, saving us from risen. Is he Basilio's secret agent or something?"
"Can Basilio summon magic portals to other dimensions?" Lissa appeared at Robin's elbow, shouldering into the conversation.
Robin pointed at her, nodding. "See, I don't know what's going on, but nothing makes sense. Don't go down there."
"This is even more of a reason for me to go down there, to get to the bottom of this!"
"Chrom‒!"
"Robin!"
"Flavia?"
"Hm?" She grunted, glaring over the apple in her mouth at Basilio.
"What happens when the next contestant enters the arena?" Robin asked, adjusting slightly in the crowded box.
"The champions are set, and the gates lock to prevent interference and… Discourage cowardice." She grinned, wiping juice from her chin.
Robin and Chrom stared at each other for a full second before simultaneously pushing towards the halls.
Chrom weaved through the crowd, catching up to Robin quickly despite his lead and tripping him before pushing his way out of the box.
"You son of a‒!" Robin cursed, nursing his knee.
"I know and I'm sorry but I have to do this!" Chrom backed away making sure Robin wasn't hurt before disappearing down the hall.
"For the harlot?!"
When Chrom was out of sight Robin stood, pushing his way back through to the box to Flavia.
"My money was on him." Flavia smirked, popping the core in her mouth, "Stronger, faster‒"
"Hands off, that's my man."
"Not for long. Did you see the way he was looking at Basilio's consort...?"
"That's right, I have to stop this. In the name of love," Robin announced, stepping onto the railing, "I'm gonna fight that guy, Chrom will stop making eyes at that other woman, and here on these sands a tale of true romance will begin, starting..."
He turned, pointing down at Marth who stopped in his tracks to stare up at him.
"With kicking your ass."
"You're aware this is a fight to the death," Flavia reminded.
"I prefer talking, and I'm sure Marth will too."
"That's probably why his sword's out," she reasoned thoughtfully.
"Just wait, I have a way of de-escalating situations."
"There are two rules to the arena, and you're breaking both of them," Flavia stated as she leaned on the rail, clearly amused and making zero effort to stop him, "All bouts are to the death, and participants must enter‒"
"Rules are for people without imaginations," Robin dismissed, "Besides, I gotta go before Lissa sees what I'm‒"
"Robin!"
"That." And he disappeared over the balcony.
At a much later time Robin would learn the correct way to tumble, rolling across the back to disperse the weight of impact. As he didn't know this yet however, he instead fell two stories landed flat on his feet and sprained his ankle.
He tested the rotation to make sure it wasn't broken. When it didn't crack or pop he grunted, rolling to his feet and limping to the center of the arena as the crowd roared its approval and Basilio's booming laughter filled the air. Metal squeaked and he looked to see the gates close just as Chrom appeared on the other side. The prince hammered the gate and glared at him.
Marth was stock still at the center of the arena. He might have been a statue. Rigid, staring at Robin like he was a ghost. Even through the mask there was an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity, but not the good kind.
"H-hey," Robin greeted, wincing as he strode forward to clasp forearms as the last contestants had done, "Probably don't remember me, I'm Robin‒"
Marth's blade came down on him before he could blink.
"Whoa!" He staggered back, fumbling for his own weapon as the crowds cheered. He gave up on drawing his blade and tore the sheath from his belt after one sword stroke cut along the back of his forearm.
Blood seeped from his wound instantly and he stared. Her blade cut through him like a hot knife through wax.
"I just wanted to talk!"
But if Marth spoke the same language he wouldn't have known. An assault of more than just trained offense was directed at him now. This was anger. Personal, hatred. It was all he could do to block with his scabbard and back away. Though Marth wielded a two handed weapon he left no room between strikes to retaliate. One movement flowed into another, just like…
Robin stared back at the arena gates but they were empty.
"Hrah!"
He looked up in time to bring his scabbard against a downward vertical slash. The kind you don't block against a two handed weapon.
His steel blade snapped at the hilt, showering his face with sharp dust as her weapon smashed into his collarbone with the force of a sledgehammer. The speedbump that was his sword was the only thing that kept her blade from being somewhere halfway down his torso right now.
Robin fell back, hard, scabbard and hilt useless in either hand. He coughed, wind knocked out of him. The throbbing in his clavicle was incredible. If he wasn't mistaken it was very broken.
Marth stood over him, sword tip at his neck.
"Y'...Got me," Robin choked, trying to lift his injured arm before a boot came down on his wrist.
"Silence," Marth hissed, sword pulling back.
Robin didn't think the noise of the crowd would be something he'd notice here, evidently in his last moments, but it was astounding.
Then Marth was tackled out of view. Robin coughed, rolling onto his side to clutch at his neck and saw Marth and Chrom struggling in the sand.
Chrom rolled off, drawing his weapon as Marth recovered his, crowd going berserk. Robin looked behind him to see a figure climbing down from Khan Basilio's box.
"Oh no… Chrom!" Robin choked, trying to point but Chrom wasn't looking.
"Chrom!"
"What?!" Chrom barked, clashing swords with Marth whose ferocity had tempered considerably.
"Sir Killsalot!"
Chrom looked over his shoulder to see the previous round's champion touch the sand, restrained anticipation evident in his step. Basilio leaned over his box, open grin showing he didn't mind the break from tradition one bit.
"Crap."
But before Basilio's second champion could close in, another form appeared before him. Frederick, a shining fortress of a man between Chrom and the champion. Sword drawn and stalwart against the eminent threat.
Swords met as Chrom and Marth engaged once more, Frederick standing firm as the other man circled wide around the knight like a wolf waiting to strike. Metal squeaked once more and the gates opened, two of Basilio's captains striding onto the sand.
Robin grimaced, laying back and gingerly positioning his injured arm to the side, steadying himself with a shuddering breath.
"This one first."
A voice from nearby, clearly directed at him.
He swung his legs over, rolling himself across the broken bone that realigned with a crunch. He staggered to his feet, ready to face his opponents when hoofs and wings appeared overhead.
A captain screamed as a pegasus trampled him into the sand, Sumia keeping the other at bay with her javelin.
"Well that escalated quickly," Robin muttered, staring at the melee unfolding before him as time slowed to a crawl and the memories swirled into black.
He remembered what he'd gone back for.
She knew who he was, even then. If she'd inherited one positive attribute from Chrom, it was that she couldn't lie to save her life. So why, then. Why wait another two years...
Grey eyes snapped open. The floor wasn't rocking, air didn't reek of salt. Around him soft candlelight on canvas, incense, bottles and herbs. The medica tent.
Robin let himself relax and sank further into the cot. The sounds of crickets and camp life outside told him he was back with the Shepherds, evening, likely outside Port Ferox. Dinner was served some time ago, faint scent in the air as a few slow forks scratched plates.
He realized a tightness around his abdomen and tried lifting his head, torso straining in protest. He felt gauze, bandages.
Right. The stabbing. He'd lost a lot of blood. He guessed that was yesterday by the soreness.
Another scent caught his attention. A floral aroma, like... jasmine. If Lucina had inherited two attributes from Chrom, the second would have been smelling wonderfully all the time. He sighed.
"Oh. It's you." He didn't bother trying to rise, figuring she was standing directly behind him, weapon held high like an executioner. "I'm really not in the mood."
"Then I'll be quick."
"Lucina I'm sore like, literally everywhere. I don't have the energy to get violent with you."
"You're not going anywhere, Robin. Allow me to finish, and I'll leave you to rest."
A throat cleared at the entrance to the tent. Robin and Lucina looked to see Lissa staring at them.
"I'll come back," she uttered, shaking her head and disappearing.
"Well there goes my witness…" Robin muttered, Lucina rising from her seat to stand beside him.
Falchion was gone, though he guessed she always had another weapon on her. Her eyes were narrowed with distaste, but he met her gaze. He couldn't summon the mana to light a candle, so escaping the tent was quite outside the realm of possibility. Might as well hear out her threats, rebuff her with humor, and‒
"Why?" she asked suddenly. He gave her a moment to elaborate. She didn't, and he shook his head.
"Because we're too different, darling. You're a woman, I'm a man; it would never work out between us."
"Why do you wait?" she continued, mask of stoicism unbroken, "For everyone to trust you, believe in you ‒ for my father to trust and believe in you, before you kill him?"
"I think if someone wanted Chrom dead they could stand by and do nothing, and watch reckless behavior and poor decision making take care of the rest. So a better question is, if I wanted him dead, why do I keep saving his life?"
"Speak plainly, why‒"
"Though the even baser question would be simply: why wait at all," he continued, ignoring her now and riding the thought train. "What possible benefit would time enable that assurance wouldn't. The fact that you ask means the reasoning never became clear, but it does beg the question," he turned back to her now, "Why did you wait, to kill me? You've always known who I was. If you were so certain of my crime..."
Her eyes widened momentarily before the mask of control returned, though her fist clenched where Falchion's hilt normally rested on her belt. He rested his head, eyeing her thoughtfully.
"Ah."
"Make no mistake, Robin. I know your true form, what you have done and what you will do."
"Then you should probably kill me, because I would die before harm came to Chrom."
She stared at him. He swallowed before going further out on the very shaky limb.
"If you think fate is set, and hope for change is nothing more than inspirational, empty words, then you do what you know is right. Though," he managed a small grin, "the irony of your being here to begin with would not be lost on me."
"So you admit, it's possible that what I fear comes to pass."
"I… Can't imagine any other reason for you being so…" Robin shifted through the waterfall of words cascading through his mind, "You."
They were quiet for another moment before she spoke.
"I'll never forgive you for what you've done to my family, but… You're the first person from this time to believe me, and for that you have my gratitude."
The words visibly pained her to speak, and he could only blink in response. Realizing the atmosphere was becoming uncomfortably near-tepid, Robin changed the subject.
"Why did you kill him?"
She blinked, thrown by the change of topics. "Who?"
"Vincent, Victor… Whichever was on the ship. The one who held your father at knifepoint."
"He held my father at knifepoint," she explained, frowning.
"We had him outnumbered and outarmed. You didn't have to kill him."
"He almost beat my father to death, he almost beat you to death, why do you care?"
"He didn't have to die," Robin muttered, gaze turning to the ceiling.
"He would have hurt countless during the course of his life, I saved those people. He was nothing more than a rabid animal."
Robin shrugged, mouth curled like he just sampled something rotten.
"You mean to tell me you haven't killed?"
"Not once."
Lucina seemed to wait for the break in smile or joke. When none came she leaned in.
"I don't know who you're pretending to be, but it doesn't fool me. I will watch you, Robin. And when you slip, I will be there. I will catch you, and I will end you."
"Lucina…"
She stared at him as his hand tentatively reached forward, taking a light hold of her fingers. Her alarmed gaze locked on his as he smiled gently at her.
"Marry me."
She dropped his hand like he were electrified, exhaling in pure annoyance as she whipped around to depart.
When the sounds of her boots were a safe distance away he rolled onto his side with a smile on his face, fairly certain he could rest without seeing her again tonight.