Cheers to Scourge of Infinis for shouldering the arduous task of checking my work.
"I could run to Plegia‒ like this!"
"I could run to Plegia‒ like this!" The column of jogging soldiers echoed the verse, every left foot hitting the ground in sync.
"All the way to Plegia, like this."
Stahl droned, uncomfortably aware of Sully's eyes boring into his back with every step. PT had them running through the mountains before dawn every day, preceding a morning routine that could only be described as hellish.
"And when we get to Plegia, the Plegians gonna say,"
He murmured the line as they started up a hill, wanting to conserve his breath to nurse the growing stitch in his side.
"How'd you get to Plegia in just one day?"
His mind still wandered to three nights ago, in the tavern. The first time he'd taken a human life. The cries of pain, and fear. Even if it were to protect his friends…
"I could run to Va-lm‒ like this!"
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. As Sully reminded him of the beauty of being a soldier: his thoughts weren't his to worry about anymore. He was freer now than he'd ever been on his own ‒ the weight of all decisions, the burdens of responsibility were lifted from him. All he had to do was obey. Simultaneously the easiest and hardest part of serving.
Sully barked at him to sing louder. Raised voices were a sign of hostility in his home. Here in the army, it was more like the sound of waves on a beach.
"And when we get to Valm, Walhart's gonna say,"
Stahl echoed with the rest of the column, wondering how much higher this hill was.
"How'd you get to Valm in just one day?"
The front of the line was breaking up and Stahl thanked the gods. They'd reached the top of the hill, veterans walking around the clearing with their hands on their hips, heads, looking as bad as he felt. He was about to sit when he realized no one else was, and knew immediately it was forbidden. That was how he picked up most things from the unit: if no one else was doing it, it was a bad idea.
Frederick wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brow with his shirt, looking entirely unspent after their run. Their eyes met and Stahl quickly averted his gaze. Frederick was terrifying as an instructor, becoming a completely different persona when tasked with their morning torture.
"Form up, stretches," Frederick barked, standing back to allow the late arrivals room in the clearing. "Hands behind your back, hip circles…"
Vaike was front and center, giving exaggeratedly wide circles for Frederick's benefit. Snickers spread through the front lines, growing louder as the captain's unamused gaze locked on the class clown.
"Aw that's right Frederick, come and get it," Vaike invited, swinging his hips wide and slow.
"Ten minutes, stretch on your own. You just met your exercise partner for the next hour," Frederick called, gesturing behind them.
Everyone looked back to see the hill they'd just climbed and gave a collective disbelieving groan as Frederick faced the eastern skyline, hands behind his back. Dawn was just breaking on the horizon, orange glow spreading overhead as that beautiful red sliver of light crept into view.
"It is a beautiful day, ladies and gentlemen, full of opportunity."
Tharja slunk through camp, pausing between tents to listen for steps or voices before continuing. It was entirely unnecessary, the bulk of the soldiers had gone out for their morning tomfoolery leaving camp almost deserted, but she liked to think of it as practice.
She sidled down an aisle, counting in her head, making a right turn, counting three more, and pausing at the back of a tent identical to the others. She smiled, recognizing her incision from the other night.
Pulling the makeshift flap aside she ducked into the tent, being met immediately with disappointment-turned-outrage. Lucina closed the book in her hand, alarmed gaze looking between Tharja and the alternative entrance she'd used.
"Lady Tharja…? Why is there…" Lucina frowned at the open flap, "Why do you have a private entrance to Robin's tent?"
"I've a better question: get out," Tharja snapped, looking around half expecting to see Robin crouched in the corner or under the desk. She inhaled deeply through her nose but was unable to catch his intoxicating musk. Lucina was here alone.
"It was open, I have as much a right to be here as you," Lucina objected, standing in clear view of the entrance to the tent and making it clear she had nothing to hide.
"You cannot simply stride into people's quarters because they're open," Tharja stated incredulously, "Have you no concept of privacy?"
"Shame or malicious intent are the only reasons to keep something private. If one has neither they have nothing to fear from inspection," Lucina reasoned unabashedly.
"Beyond undesirables rifling through their belongings," Tharja retorted, not believing she was the one giving this lecture.
"You're here."
"I'm his wife," Tharja bristled, choosing to ignore the implication, "This tent is as much mine as Robin's."
"Why do you have a secret entrance to your own tent…" Lucina asked, moving to the desk to place the book somewhere on the stack of others.
Tharja gasped, pushing past her.
"I'm looking for his tomes, notes…" Lucina explained, frowning as Tharja hurriedly rearranged the messy pile into a slightly-different-but-no-less-messy pile.
"He puts them in a specific order!" Tharja growled, growing more and more impatient with the girl's audacity.
"You… Know where he keeps his things."
"All his things," Tharja smiled smugly, correcting a book's angle by a degree and turning to Lucina to see if the girl was jealous.
She wasn't.
"Where are his dark tomes?" Lucina asked, expression hardening.
"He doesn't have any..."
"Perhaps he keeps them elsewhere?"
"Like in the drawer to his desk, where he keeps his private art collection?" Tharja pulled it open and produced a sketch of Frederick, Chrom in the background surrounded by women, with the words I hope Chrom-senpai notices me… in a thought bubble.
Tharja moved to the untouched bed, "Or under his pillow, where he sleeps with his knife."
"That's my knife!" Lucina exclaimed, snatching it from her and returning it to the empty sheath on her boot.
"Regardless," Tharja continued, ignoring her and pointing at the books, "There's nothing Robin keeps hidden from me. Those are his books. Muy En-Fuego to Danger Danger High Voltage."
Lucina stared. The last one sounded dubious at best.
"They're modified tomes, much more powerful than the originals. He renamed them himself," Tharja sighed dreamily.
"What about… Correspondences, documents of foreign records?"
"Those go through Chrom, Robin doesn't keep such papers in his private collection."
Lucina exhaled, clearly not satisfied. "There is proof of his intentions, somewhere, he must have left something to indicate his plans..."
Tharja sneered, content to see the girl failing to smear Robin's name. "You underestimate my husband. If he had plans to keep secret, there would be no trace of it here."
Lucina stood, staring out the tent.
"You're right. He's far too devious to have written plans stashed away in his quarters," she realized, as though under Robin's cot she'd expected to find an illustration of Chrom with a giant X over his face and Grima sitting on a throne. "I must ask others, surely someone's seen or heard something suspicious."
Tharja simply raised an eyebrow as the girl thanked her and departed in a hurry. For all the girl's determination, there wasn't much to find. Even Tharja had been disappointed there wasn't much more to Robin than what he displayed openly.
Whatever, she was gone. Tharja stood, moving to close the tent and lay down on Robin's cot, breathing deeply into his pillow.
She lifted her head, feeling around to pull up a long dark hair, the exact shade of Lucina's. She wrinkled her nose, tossing it to the floor and making to leave.
Chrom stepped out of the medica tent, letting out a sigh. The high morning sun was warm and pleasant, a nice contrast to the bed he'd been confined to the last day. He closed his eyes, swaying slightly on the spot as his body caught up to what he'd just done, when someone called his name.
"M'lord Chrom, you should be resting."
Frederick was striding towards him, evidently just returning from PT. In the clearing past the tents behind him other Shepherds were walking around, hands on their heads, or simply laying on the ground gasping for breath.
"I'm fine, Frederick, don't dote." Chrom waved away his ushers back towards the tent he come, "I need to do something, lying in bed all day will kill me. Do you want me to die, Frederick?"
"I do not, m'lord."
"And what are you doing to our poor soldiers?" Chrom asked, looking past Frederick's broad frame again.
"Physical training, of course. Every soldier's body and mind must be honed‒"
"Give them a few days off."
"Lord Chrom, soon we'll be confined to a ship for over a week. We must make use of the space and terrain we have now to offset atrophy‒"
Frederick stopped when he saw Chrom's expression.
"When it comes to training you're second-to-none, but trust me. We've a long road ahead of us, and I'm certain you'll find something to keep them active even crossing an ocean. Give them some R&R."
Frederick stepped in to support him as he swayed again.
"I'll need a desk job," Chrom chuckled, putting an arm over Frederick's shoulder with a wince. "How's Robin? I don't see anyone looking particularly grim or jovial so I must assume he's still alive."
"He departed for town early this morning."
"You let him walk out of here?! He was in worse shape than me!" Chrom asked, motioning the direction to start walking.
"I am not his caretaker, m'lord."
"He's probably sour about the chess game I beat him in. Classic Lucena position, can't believe he fell into it," Chrom chuckled in satisfaction before turning to Frederick, "Honestly I'm not sure I want him devising strategy anymore, if I can beat him…"
Frederick's stoic mask didn't crack and Chrom returned to business with a sigh.
"Well did he finish the requisition orders I asked for? I'd hoped that would keep him down long enough to stay out of trouble."
"He said he could file some papers asking you to sign off on some things…" Frederick cleared his throat, "Or you could 'simply do them.'"
Truthfully Chrom shared Robin's distaste for bureaucracy and paperwork, but the treasury was not infinite, and when it came to logistics, accurate records needed to be kept.
Chrom sighed, "Then I guess I have my morning cut out for me."
"If you would prefer, sire, I could fetch him from town."
"No, this is actually fine. If Lucina is around she can start learning the true purpose of the monarchy: to pick up Robin's slack."
"I fear she's absent as well. Shall I‒"
"No, just help me to the command tent," Chrom interrupted, wondering where everyone had disappeared to. Even with the soldiers returning from PT it looked like a skeleton crew around camp.
"I expect to see even fewer at morning formation, once they receive the order to 'relax,'" Frederick uttered the last word as though it were poisonous, correctly reading Chrom's expression.
"They're people first, let them explore and enjoy themselves. Anything can happen in war…" Chrom trailed off, reminded of the primary function of the army. He'd be leading these men and women to combat, and if these were their last days he'd want them to be on their own time.
"If any are as fortunate as you, some might even find love."
Chrom stared at the rare break in professionalism, Frederick's thin lips betraying a hint at humor.
"Did you just mock me, Sir Frederick?"
"Never, m'lord. Merely reflecting on recent history," Frederick stated, stooping to lift the entrance to the command tent for Chrom. "As I was saying, the pledge all soldiers take upon swearing the oath is more than words. It's a promise, to always be vigilant and prepared for any threat to you or country. They know that when they enlist, their needs become secondary."
"Do they know that when they're conscripted?" Chrom asked, gingerly easing himself into a seat. He looked at Frederick, "Give them the time off, that's an order."
Frederick nodded, closing his mouth as Chrom looked over the volume of requisition forms and inventory logs. He thumbed through the stack, scanning for irregularities, pulling out a few questionables and sitting back with a sigh.
After about a minute he realized his eyes weren't moving from the same line on the paper and he set it on the pile, looking to Frederick with a chuckle.
"You got me thinking… Do you remember your knighting ceremony, Frederick?"
"Vividly, m'lord."
"When I was assigned my bodyguard… What happened?" Chrom smiled, recalling the event yet preferring to hear his friend's version.
"...You refused the Knight-General. You pointed to me, and said… 'I want that one,' and wouldn't hear reason regarding my inexperience or the magnitude of your decision."
Chrom chuckled to himself, nodding as he sat down.
"I had a long talk with Lissa the night before, we both knew it had to be you."
A strange silence followed. The obvious question any normal person would use to fill the space and continue the conversation was absent from the knight's vocabulary.
"Because you never smiled," Chrom explained patiently, drawing a trail on the dusty table, "And we thought, if I chose you, it would make you happy."
Chrom looked up at Frederick's stare.
"I was ten, she was seven, stop looking at me like that."
Frederick closed his mouth and looked ahead, clearly unsure what to say next.
"I felt guilty for a good year after that, thinking the responsibility kept you from smiling. Then I realized that was just you, and your face was stuck that way."
"I smiled at your wedding," Frederick objected, eyes locked on the opposite end of the tent.
"I want to see you smiling for yourself."
"My responsibilities do not include such selfish indulgences, m'lord."
"They do as of today. I want you to take your newfound sense of humor and go into town to have some fun with the others. Go…" Chrom paused, "Do whatever you do for fun."
"I don't do that."
"Go learn. Take a nice girl out for dinner."
"Take a…" Frederick repeated, face reddening as Chrom racked his brain for someone the knight could relate to.
"Cordelia. Take Cordelia out for dinner."
Frederick stared at him like he'd grown an extra head.
"T-That would be highly inappropriate, sire. Regulations have strict rules regarding fraternization."
"Technically you're in different branches," Chrom weighed two invisible scales between his hands, "So..."
"I fear you've been spending far too much time with Robin."
"I command it," Chrom rolled his eyes, waving him off as if that made it final.
"This is an abuse of your power, Lord Chrom," Frederick protested, but taking a half-step towards the exit in defeat.
Chrom grunted and waved farewell, pulling open the books to get to work.
"Before I forget: Lady Olivia has been notified of your safe return," Frederick said, making sure Chrom heard him before lowering the tent flap as he departed.
Chrom wrinkled his nose, knowing at this moment she'd be on her way. She'd objected to him leading the army, fearing the worst, and if news of his kidnapping had reached her, which he was certain Frederick hadn't excluded from his report, she would undoubtedly be on her way to accompany them. He'd wanted to spare her this life again, she hated the violence and was much happier caring for baby-Lucina back in their home. But the guilty thought surfaced nonetheless that he'd be happy to see her.
He frowned when he realized what he was reading in the most recent requisition.
"Two wall casks of Feroxi vodka…?"
The late morning was bright and the sounds of gulls accompanied the salty air as Port Ferox bustled. If the locals noticed an inn had burned to the ground a few days past they didn't care, evidently used to brawls or shoddy construction claiming many like it. After morning PT the Shepherds fled to town, eager to escape routine duties until the Plegian ships came.
Two women strolled down a busy street, taller one pulling the other aside as a wagon rolled past.
"Roses of the North! Each as unique and as beautiful as a snowflake!" a vendor called from the front of the cart, "Guaranteed to find your soulmate. How 'bout you, pretty lady?"
"How much?" Sumia sighed as the merchant produced a rose of ice blue color, sparkling as if covered by frost.
"Can you put a price on love, milady?"
"I can," Sully folded her arms, edging between the merchant and Sumia, "How much?"
"One thousand gold, to find the man you'll spend the rest of your life‒" he glossed over the number as if it were insignificant.
Sully balked, pulling Sumia along the street as the merchant called after them.
"Goddess those were beautiful…" Sumia muttered, looking back to the wagon's hatch to view the exotic flora.
"They're flowers. They're going to die in like a week," Sully dismissed, nudging Sumia to keep talking. "Besides, how many men are you going to woo with a flower?"
Sumia shrugged before remembering their previous topic.
"I just think Chrom should be more careful!"
"To be fair, I don't think anyone anticipated… Well any of that." Sully checked the street before they continued towards a busy storefront, "I'm more surprised we hired a criminal. The same criminal who kidnapped our commander and tactician."
"They vouched for him. If Chrom trusts him, I trust him. Just look at Robin!" Sumia nodded to herself, "He turned out alright."
"Speaking of which…" Sully muttered, spotting the familiar form cross-legged at a tavern front. She fished a paper from her pocket and found the row of scribbles that wasn't crossed out.
They approached the shaded area surrounded by mats and short tables. Sumia gasped.
"Robin, what are you doing up? Out of bed, and‒ and you should be resting!"
"Sumia, sweet Sumia," Robin cooed, not looking at her, "Shh."
"Rook to A3, takes queen," Sully declared, folding her paper with a grin. "Cornered king, and I believe that's checkmate."
"I'll tell him."
"What's that?"
Robin glanced up from the board, "I said 'so it would seem.'"
"Y'know Robin, I figured with you finishing up most of your other matches and being able to focus on mine, you'd have done better. But you've won what, about fifty percent of your games?"
"Exactly fifty percent," Robin confirmed, proudly.
"Kid has no head for strategy," the old sailor he was playing explained, shaking his head.
"Hear that Robin? You suck. I'm not sure I want a tactician who I can beat at chess."
"See this pawn, Sully?" He held up the piece for her to see before placing it directly before the gauntlet of enemy pieces, "This is going to be you next engagement."
The piece was devoured by the enemy forces.
"Actually, I believe I'm a knight," Sully reminded him, flicking his sole remaining knight.
He immediately placed it beside the first. The sailor sighed and took it.
"Wow."
"And I hope you learned your lesson," Robin folded his arms smugly as Sully pulled Sumia back to the street.
"You sure showed me," Sully bowed her head in humility and took her leave. "C'mon Sumia, let's check the stables. My mare needs a new brush."
Robin nodded, waving them off as he returned his attention to the board. "Sorry about that, I run a daycare for adults. Aaaand… Checkmate."
Cherche carried a bundle of gauze past the enlisted tents, doubling back as she saw someone sitting up in their cot.
"Stahl?"
It took him a second to look up.
"Oh, right. I guess that's my name, now."
"What are you doing here all by yourself?" She hoisted the bundle higher on her hip to hold under one arm.
"Oh I was just… Thinking. Haven't been feeling too well."
"The best way to get something off your mind is to get on your feet," Cherche recited, holding out a hand with a smile.
"Really, I'd rather just‒"
She leaned in and grabbed him by the tunic, dragging him out with her.
"O-okay."
They walked in silence for a minute to the waste pits where Cherche threw the armful of gauze.
"Someone will burn it all later, I just wanted to get that in before tomorrow. They start to stink."
"All that was one person?" Stahl stared as she turned towards the main road to town.
"Minerva. She received some burns the other day and I like to do what I can to make her comfortable."
"I didn't know wyverns could get burns."
"They're living creatures, as you or I," Cherche laughed softly, "It's easy to forget that, the way they can fly or swim or run so differently than we can…"
She continued talking all the way down the hill. Stahl liked listening to her voice. She didn't ask what was bothering him once, content to keep the conversation going herself if he wasn't quick enough to find something to say, which was often. He felt his face flush whenever their eyes met, thoughts turning into molasses until she looked away.
They entered the city with no destination in mind, wandering streets and stopping before interesting shops whenever something caught her eye.
Cherche was extremely pretty, and he realized he may have a growing crush on her, and he didn't know why she was spending time with him of all people but right now she was exactly what he needed. A reminder there were good things in the world.
"Oh dear, may we take this sidestreet?"
Stahl felt himself being hustled with surprising strength out of sight into an alley, stepping over an ominous smelling puddle as Cherche looked over her shoulder.
"Why‒ what's happening?"
"Just Lord Virion. I… Try to avoid him when I'm off duty."
"You get off duty?"
"When I'm avoiding him, yes."
Stahl grinned as she slid past him, leading the way down the narrow alley. It occurred to him how little space she occupied when not clad head-to-toe in steel.
"You're… Small. I mean smaller than you usually look… In your spiky armor."
She giggled at that.
"A woman needs an outfit for every occasion." She waved a hand over herself, "This is modest-relaxation-day."
"I like it."
She smiled at him and turned, exiting the alley. Stahl smiled too, then felt stupid. He could have come up with something better than that. Cleverer. Robin would have said something cleverer. He and Cherche seemed to spend a lot of time together, she spent almost all day keeping him company yesterday. She was used to hearing cleverer things.
Though before he started bending over backwards making an utter fool of himself he thought it would be wise to clarify her relationship with the chief tactician. He cleared his throat, following her around the corner.
"So, Cherche, are you and Robin‒!"
"Cherche!"
He rounded the corner, seeing Sully and Sumia.
"And Stahl!"
"Oh, h-hi. Ma'am," he addressed Sully, unsure what proper etiquette was when off duty.
"Relax, no officers around," Sully sensed his discomfort and he relaxed.
"Stahl. The 'rookie,' you were talking about?" Sumia asked, giving him a once over.
"Yeah, but I don't think rookie's appropriate anymore. He kicked some ass two nights ago, soon they're gonna be calling him the Valmese Widowmaker."
"He saved my life," Cherche nodded, bowing her head appreciatively, "I never thanked you for that."
"P-please. I did what everyone else was doing," Stahl was fully flushed now. He looked to Sully, "You fought better than me."
"I've been doing this a lot longer than you, newbie," Sully chuckled. Even if they were approximately the same age it was clear she would always hold her experience over him. "If I were taking Hoplite names a month out of basic I'd be pretty damn proud of myself. You're doing good, keep it up and you'll be the first conscript to become a general."
"I hope not…" Stahl muttered, but Sully had engaged Cherche in conversation.
Sumia noticed his quieting and drew near.
"You okay, Stahl?"
"Y-yes ma'am," he nodded, looking up brightly. She wasn't fooled.
"It doesn't get easier. But we do what we have to." She offered him a sympathetic smile and squeezed his shoulder. "If you need to talk, talk to someone, okay? We're all family now."
"Right. Thanks," Stahl breathed, nodding appreciatively.
Sumia seemed like a sweet girl. She was one of more well-known Shepherds, and he could see why after thirty seconds of being in her presence. The sort of calming energy about her. Still, all things being equal he preferred listening to Cherche's soothing voice.
"Alright, we're on a quest for a decent horse brush," Sully sighed, nodding to Stahl's hair, "We'll let you know if we find something to tame that. See you ladies later."
"Good luck with that." Cherche smiled watching them go before she and Stahl continued their walk. She looked over her shoulder and leaned closer.
"I think she likes you."
"S-Sully?" Stahl stammered, looking back to be safe, "I hope not."
"Why not? She seems…" she trailed off as they walked, "Capable?"
"Yeah, you couldn't even finish that without smiling. That's why," Stahl chuckled, stepping onto a dock that ran along the harbor. Tall buildings to their right offered a sense of privacy.
Just them, the ships, and the water extending out unto the horizon. He cleared his throat again.
"But while we're on the subject…"
"Is that…" Cherche interrupted him, narrowing her gaze, "Tharja?"
He closed his mouth, following her gesture. At the far end of the dock, a lone figure stood staring out over the ocean.
"I think so. What's she doing?"
"I never know. She keeps to herself when she isn't inquiring about Robin…" Cherche paused her step, showing a hesitation to continue forward.
"Y'know, speaking of which…"
The figure at the end of the dock turned suddenly ‒ it was Tharja, and she was now making briskly towards them.
"Tharja… How pleasant it is to see you," Cherche greeted. She was smiling, but Stahl could feel the difference.
"No it isn't. Stay away from my husband," Tharja replied curtly, glowering at Cherche until the older girl stepped aside.
Tharja moved forward, pausing before Stahl. She looked up at him through bangs and he shivered. Her large eyes were impossibly dark.
"You too."
"Er… Kay," Stahl muttered, sidestepping as she glided past.
"What an… Odd bird," Cherche murmured, cocking her head slightly as Tharja disappeared between buildings like a shadow.
"Do you think either of them would be open to seeing other people?" Stahl asked, frowning after Tharja.
It took him a moment to realize the thought train in his head wasn't one he'd voiced, and when he opened his mouth to explain where he was going he caught her raised eyebrow.
"Do you have intention towards Lady Tharja?"
"Wh-N-No!" he stammered, shaking his head. "I-I mean for her, and Robin. I mean they're married… I guess? But not really? Or something?"
His tone indicated he claimed no understanding of the subject and was open to correction.
"So I mean what would you think if Robin chose to… See someone else?"
Cherche cocked her head to the other side.
"You have intention towards Lord Robin, then?"
"No‒ I'm serious!" He caught her smile and laughed, "I just want to hear your take on it."
She thought, nodding her head for them to continue their walk around the harbor.
"I think… If 'Lord' Robin wanted to be with her, he would be."
"He isn't?"
"I've never been married, but I would hope my future husband would not take every opportunity to hide from me."
"That's a… Strange relationship."
"'Marriage,'" she corrected, using air quotes.
"You say that dismissively," he chuckled, watching her for a reaction.
Cherche stopped, looking at him.
"I've been carrying the conversation all morning and now you're suddenly Mr. Talkative." She smiled slowly, "Are you asking if I have intention towards Robin?"
"I apologize, it was forward of me." Stahl blushed, looking away as he moved to walk with her, "You don't owe me an answer, I was just making conversation."
"Hm."
Cherche matched his pace, walking in silence for another minute. They rounded the corner and started up a hill taking them back into the city.
"Do I give that impression?" she asked suddenly. "Does it appear I seek more than friendship from him?"
Stahl chanced a glance at her. She was watching him intently.
"Er, I…"
He didn't think he'd be able to sit this one on the sidelines.
"I mean I'm still pretty new to the Shepherds but… I might've thought so. You two spend time together. You visited him when he was on the mend..."
"We weren't even on speaking terms until a few days ago."
"Just… Saying what I see."
"Yes. Thank you for that." Cherche's tone became distracted as a slight frown crossed her features, "Are you feeling better? I have some matters to attend to."
Stahl would have preferred spending the whole day with her but hated to impose, and she clearly had other things on her mind.
"Y-yeah, no problem! I'll just… Find my way around town." He grinned nonchalantly, scratching the back of his head.
"Thank you, Stahl. I enjoyed the time with you today." She smiled in a way that sent his face crimson, "I'll see you around camp?"
"Yeah. See you later…" Stahl called after her.
She rounded a tall building and disappeared from view. He sighed, uncertain about the weight in his chest. Yes, he liked her, but he wasn't into elbowing between two people, especially not two people he was quite fond of.
"Ah well..."
He grinned, stretching in the sunlight. Maybe it just wasn't to be. Still, it made for a pleasant morning. And it did take his mind off… All the killing.
Stahl picked his way up the street, following the scent of cooking meat. It wasn't this storefront… He rounded the corner, spotting a small crowd of old men gathered in the shade of an inn.
Wondering what the interest was he pushed his way to the center to find a short wooden table atop an old beaten rug. In the middle was a square board with a number of tiles facing other, each marked by intricate symbols. They were characters he'd never seen before and it took him a full minute of analyzing to decide it was impossible to decipher.
"Hey Stahl."
Stahl looked up to see Robin frowning at the board.
"Oh. Robin!" Stahl greeted, wondering if this was chance, "We were just talking about you…"
"We?" Robin repeated, frowning as he moved a tile.
"Ah, Cherche and I were, I mean."
"Cherche?" Robin echoed, looking up and around. When he couldn't find her he slumped, resting his cheek on his drawn-up knee. "She's not here, liar."
"She left a couple minutes ago." Stahl grinned, unsure if Robin was serious.
"Did she say where she was going?"
"She didn't. Should I try to find her?" Stahl offered helpfully as Robin's opponent lifted a tile and tentatively placed it.
"I think I would like to become romantically involved with her. Thoughts?" Robin asked, moving a piece. "King me… Or whatever its called."
Stahl almost choked on his spit. "That's, pretty bold. And probably something you should talk to her about in private?"
"Yeah?" Robin asked, rapping his fingers as he waited for his opponent.
"...Yeah." His opponent muttered, glancing up at him for a moment before turning his attention back to the board.
"I'll think about it," Robin answered Stahl before addressing the opponent, "Would you go. I swear I need to plan meals between your turns."
Stahl looked over the board, confused. Usually having more pieces than your opponent was a good thing.
"Are you a… Sore winner?" he asked, making sure he was understanding the game.
"Winning isn't everything," Robin snapped, hovering his hand over the piece he was about to move.
The older man placed a tile and Robin responded immediately, causing a clamor through the small crowd.
"What happened?" Stahl asked as Robin stood, dusting himself.
"I won, and now they're going to take twenty minutes to figure it out and another twenty minutes to talk about it, so let's go."
"Did you win anything, or was that for… Fun?" Stahl asked, wondering why he'd put himself through that.
"Moving up through the tournament. I gotta be at a shady tavern in a couple hours for the finals but I got time before that. You hungry?"
"Sure, if that's alright. I mean, I'm still a conscript, even off duty. And I vaguely remember something in the reg book on fraternization, so if it won't land you before a disciplinary committee or anything..."
"I don't know what alien language you just spoke but I'll take it as a yes," Robin nodded and continued up the street.
Stahl chuckled, following. "So where'd you learn to play that game?"
"At that table a few hours ago."
Lucina sighed, watching Lord Virion disappear quickly into the crowd. The noble's reputation for being a womanizer was unfounded, as far as she was concerned. He evidently couldn't wait for the conversation to be over once she'd begun interrogating him about Robin.
And it wasn't for lack of kind words. He praised the man's virtues as modestly as he could, though it was evident he held a great deal of respect for the younger tactician. Polite and courteous though he was, once it became clear Lucina wasn't interested in his finer qualities Virion wasn't interested in her.
He'd departed, clearly annoyed and muttering something about having had enough Lucena for one day.
Her eyes latched onto Gaius coming out of a storefront across the street. Their eyes met and he stiffened, Lucina taking an automatic step towards him with intent to question as a group of women passed between them. Lucina waited for them to pass and saw Gaius had disappeared.
She looked up and down the street, and sighed. That was the second Shepherd to have turned heel upon spotting her today. At least he hadn't bowled over a group of priests as Vaike had.
This mission was doing little but further ostracizing her from the very people she'd come back to save. She had to come at them from a different angle, ask better questions to get the answers she was looking for.
Another opportunity presented itself. Gregor rounded the corner of the next road, passing a clinking pouch to one of his mercenaries and slapping his shoulder with a wide smile. She waited for the other man to depart and approached carefully.
Gregor noticed her and laughed. "Why you walk like Gregor is scared deer?"
"I, er…" Lucina stood straighter, not realizing she'd entered an almost hunting posture. Truthfully Gregor's reaction had been the most cordial she'd received all day. He didn't even frown or cross his arms upon seeing her.
"I would like to talk to you about Robin."
At this Gregor's smile did falter slightly, but he jerked his head and turned to walk. "Gregor loves talk, but doesn't think he can tell you much you haven't heard."
"You know I'm asking about Robin?"
"Like lovesick puppy, all Lucina talks about‒ Where Robin? Why Robin?" Gregor raised his voice to imitate her. She wasn't amused.
"Oi, too serious! Life too short for frowney," Gregor muttered, reaching to pull at her cheeks before she swatted him away. "See?"
"My mission doesn't afford me luxury to focus on anything else. I am here to save humanity."
"Sounds important," Gregor mused, scratching his stubble.
"I am serious‒"
"Gregor believes you."
Lucina sighed, not knowing if he was serious, but continued.
"Please, tell me everything you can about him."
Gregor agreed, on the condition that they find a tavern to sit.
"Please, mademoiselle, give me but a minute and I promise you an eternity."
Cordelia huffed, sidestepping around the persistent noble on her way down the waterside street. She was looking to do some evening sightseeing until Virion had found her, and she quickly discovered there were some things even more difficult to brush away than rust.
"I'm flattered, m'lord, but…" Cordelia chose her words carefully, "I don't like you?"
"Ah, but opposites have been known to attract ‒ man and woman, yes?"
"I prefer women," Cordelia lied, hoping it would shake him.
"Ah, as do I!" Virion announced excitedly, "Birds of a feather must flock together, no?"
"Please leave."
Virion clutched at his chest mournfully, gracefully weaving backwards between pedestrians in a strange dance.
"My heart, m'lady. You pierce it with your simple yet powerful words."
"That's where we train to aim," Cordelia muttered, prevented from turning back by two sailors carrying a large barrel behind her.
"Then allow me to redirect your training, to foster love over violence. I see the pain in your eyes, that of a warrior."
Virion moved in front of her, taking her hands in his and looking deep into her eyes.
"You are so beautiful, with such fire inside you…" Virion whispered loudly enough to be heard in the middle of the crowded street.
"Er…" Cordelia winced and tried taking a step back but more sailors with another barrel stopped her.
"Yes, you cannot move away because you wish to hear more of my words. Like poetry in your ears…" Virion smiled confidently.
"No,‒"
"Shh," Virion placed a finger over her lips, "No more words, my dear. No more pain. I am here for you."
"Can you not‒?" Cordelia shook the finger free and glared at him when a deep voice interrupted her.
"First Scout Cordelia!"
They turned to see a knight at the start of the dock, armor catching the dying sunlight rather heroically. He walked straight towards them unimpeded, sailors giving his size a wide berth.
"Oh thank the heavens…"
He stopped before them, looking between their hands, Virion's raised eyebrow, and Cordelia's pleading expression. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, evidently unsure what he was supposed to say. They waited.
"Was there… Something you needed? Captain?" Cordelia tugged at her trapped hand but was met with resistance. "Me to do? Right now?"
"Y-yes. Actually… Ahem."
Frederick cleared his throat, cheeks darkening slightly. Virion and Cordelia stared. No one had ever seen him so uncomposed.
"Chrom… Lord Chrom… Commands, that I take you out‒"
"Understood sir."
Cordelia slipped out of Virion's grasp and strode past the knight, pulling him along by the arm. Frederick looked astounded as he spun, stumbling after her as they left Virion surrounded in the middle of the street by laborers.
"I h-haven't even described the mission." Frederick caught up to her quick strides and she let his arm go.
"He's out of earshot." Cordelia checked over her shoulder and grinned, "Thank you Captain. I thought you were going to freeze on me there, but good thinking."
"Thinking?" Frederick repeated. The word was a foreign one.
"With Chrom. 'Commanding,' and whatever else was going to come after it."
"Er… Yes," Frederick blinked, remembering his purpose. "As I stated I'm to take you out to dinner tonight."
"Right," Cordelia nodded, grinning, "That's a little strange, and I'm not sure even Virion would buy it, but thanks anyway."
"So you accept my orders?"
"What orders?"
Cordelia frowned at him in confusion. He opened his mouth uncertainly. He seemed to be having the trouble drawing the line between chivalry and duty.
"The ones to take you out to dinner."
Cordelia tilted her head.
"Is this some strange-Frederick-way of cleverly asking to take me on a date?"
"I promise you m'lady, I have not the wit for this."
"Chrom asked‒"
"Commanded."
"‒you to date me."
Frederick took a deep breath and nodded, calming now she understood the situation and could refuse.
"Naturally if you decline I would understand fully and harbor no ill feelings towards this encounter."
He stared when after several seconds she made no indication of preference.
"As one could safely consider it a breach of professionalism and conduct unbecoming an officer," Frederick reiterated slowly.
She shrugged.
"You're not saying no," he reminded her hintingly.
"I could eat."
Gregor grinned as a waitress brought ale for him and water for Lucina. He took a long swill as she lifted the cup to sniff and rest on the table, waiting for him to finish.
He lowered his mug, staring out from their corner table on the second level of the tavern. The open center of the floor revealed the rowdy downstairs that he watched longingly before Lucina cleared her throat, reminding him why they were here.
Gregor shrugged, sticking his lip out in thought.
"Robin is great man. Very smart, very good with the words, very..."
"Dangerous," Lucina offered.
Gregor looked at her like she knew better. "Chrom dangerous, but you do not look at him same way. Some say Gregor dangerous! But you do not try to hurt Gregor."
"You and my father are both good men."
"I did not say Robin was good man, I say Robin great man. Man whose actions have consequences," Gregor pointed at her. "Good, bad, how can you know such things?"
"Robin's actions lead to the destruction of our world. That's evil."
Gregor looked over the room again, shaking his head with wrinkled nose. "If stranger appears in camp, tries killing comrade, talks crazy talk of future and death, tries killing comrade again, and then goes around, asking friends about how bad comrade is. Is this good person, or bad person?"
Lucina stared at him. "There's more to it than that."
"Maybe to Lucina, there is more. For us, who know Robin, is very simple. Robin good, Lucina bad."
"The Shepherds are good people, and you're a good man," Lucina stated, eyes pleading with him to understand that, but he simply shrugged. "I only want to help you."
For the warmth he exhumed for everyone, his hazel eyes never seemed to register emotion.
"Somewhere, sometime, someplace, blade with Gregor's name on the edge will find him. He does not need your help in this. Gregor only here for the laughs, but you do not make funny. And you do not know Gregor."
He finished his mug and placed it on the table with a sigh as Lucina gripped her cup. He wiped his mouth, raising his eyebrows at her to ask if they were finished as he stood. He'd cleared the table when her voice stopped him.
"You were one of the last. I was little more than a child but I remember you clearly. Your band… Became heroes in our final years. Legends adults would tell to the children, of the heroes we'd aspire to become. You risked life and limb time and again to buy humanity hours, just enough for us to keep surviving. You were in every battle we waged against Grima's forces, until…"
She closed her mouth, eyes on the table. She could see his boots hadn't moved and took a deep breath, preparing to break the vow she'd made not to share knowledge of the future.
"We'd many wounded after a losing battle, too many to travel. The survivors helped carry who they could and left the others, there was nothing that could be done. There would be no sunrise for these wounded warriors, left to die at the camp in the bottom of a canyon between two converging risen armies. Everyone knew it, but you and your men stayed."
Lucina cleared her throat, blinking quickly as the memories surged. "Some said you were tired of fighting, or wanted the glory of being remembered so honorably. But I know you, Gregor."
She looked up to see him watching her now, expression unreadable.
"You are a hero. And a good man."
This conversation had taken a turn from what she'd originally planned, but she wouldn't let a childhood hero think less of her for doing what she was raised to do, surrounded by heroes in a time that needed them most. She held her breath, hoping of all the bridges she'd burned today, this was one she could maintain. Gregor's eyes narrowed.
"A handsome man," he added suddenly, turning his jaw.
"And a handsome man," Lucina added, breaking a small smile in relief.
Gregor smirked, coming back to lean over the table with both hands on the edges. He sighed, looking around then down at her.
"Difficult times Lucina has seen, this Gregor does not doubt," he raised a finger to preemptively ask her to let him finish, "But judgment of character, not strong suit. You want to know kind of man Robin is? Robin is man who looks down on Gregor. Not for who Gregor is, but for what Gregor does. This difference you should know."
"Who a man is and what he does can be different things."
"Gregor and Robin disagree," he chuckled, straightening. "Difference is what you can live with. Robin is man who can't put price on life, thing Gregor does every battle."
"You do what you have to, if Robin can't do what it takes to‒"
"Gregor does what he's paid, no more, no less. Robin is strong enough to say 'no,' he can't compromise morals. Find man strong enough to put values over coin, and Gregor will put him in command every time."
"How can you respect a man who doesn't respect you?" Lucina asked, baffled by Gregor's nonchalant admittance.
"By knowing that maybe who is good man, and who is Gregor, may not be same thing," Gregor replied sagely, giving her a wink.
Lucina looked to the table in defeat. She doubted she'd find anyone to speak ill of Robin.
"You are sad because what you hear isn't what you look for, this Gregor understands," he sighed, taking his empty mug and stepping away from the table. "But now Gregor has question: does Lucina want to find what she looks for, or truth?"
He hummed as he turned away, making downstairs to where familiar faces had entered the tavern.
The door closed as a table overturned, a barrel chested sailor toppling another in a dramatic arm wrestling contest that continued to the floor.
Gaius raised his eyebrow and stepped around the mess of ale and limbs, Vaike chuckling behind him.
"Now this is my kinda place," Vaike spoke loudly over the cheers as something worth cheering for was announced on the other side of the hall.
"Yeah, but if you're gonna get us in trouble don't pass out beforehand," Gaius requested, looking for a table.
"Friends!" a deep voice bellowed, and they looked to see Gregor coming down the stairs arms wide.
"Err, hey. I'm Gaius, pleased to‒"
"With the life stories, already?" Gregor chuckled, looking around, "Fine, fine but we will need drinks, and sitting."
"Welcome to the family," Vaike muttered, ruffling Gaius' hair and following Gregor through the crowd.
Gregor righted the overturned table, pulling empty chairs until the two sailors stopped wrestling to stare at him.
"We was using that."
Vaike drew beside Gregor who folded his arms.
"No more, you are not."
The sailors sized the two men up and decided the risk wasn't worth the reward, and made their way out.
"So Vaike was explaining," Gaius took a seat, grinning at them, "How exactly Chrom hooked up with a… What'd you call her… A temptress?"
"That's what Robin called her. One time," Vaike corrected warningly, shaking his head free of evidently bad memories, "You'd do better to call her Olivia."
Gaius shook his head, showing disinterest in details.
"Well, Robin tells this story best…" Vaike chuckled, scratching his head trying to remember, "How does it start…"
"About an hour before they got married."
They turned towards the voice two tables further into the tavern. A burly sailor moved and revealed Robin between three tables with an opponent on the other side of each. He apologized for his delay and moved a pawn, slid a tile, and checked his hand.
"Go fish."
He turned back to the Shepherds. Vaike sat back with a grin, waiting for his favorite story to be retold as Gaius leaned forward in his chair.
"We'd seen this girl once, maybe twice, right? In our lives?" Robin glanced at the table to his right and pushed a bishop, "And yeah, sure, she's boning hot. But not 'abandon your friends,' hot, right? Not 'risk the battle for our kingdom,' hot?" Robin made sure they understood this before moving a tile from the other end of the board and flipping it, "Now Chrom's acted stupid around this girl before ‒ I had to save his life in the Feroxi arena because of it, go fish."
"Is that how it‒?" Vaike interrupted with a grin.
"Go fish. So we rendezvous with Basilio on our escape from Plegia, she's there, he can talk to her finally, but Chrom's sister just passed and now isn't the time." Robin took an appropriately sympathetic expression, "Fun fact, dead siblings are a complete mood killer. Even when meeting with the woman he has intentions for," he emphasized the word with his eyebrows. "Chrom is far too noble to violate the no-bone-grace period following any death in the family."
"He once saved an orphanage from a fire," Vaike nodded impressively.
"The very same fire that wasn't started by me, correct Vaike! You gonna go today?" Robin glanced at his chess opponent irritably before returning to his story, "We're at the battle of historical-fort-something-something on the border of Ylisse, and you'll never guess who's leading the caravan with our supplies."
"The boning hot temptress?"
"Her name's Olivia, don't… Don't call her that," Robin warned, glancing around, "Anyway, yes. The boning hot Olivia. Ah, yes. Now. Now is the time, Noble Chrom realizes. Now is the time to put the moves on the lady his pants have been ripping for over the last few weeks."
"In the middle of the battle," Gaius clarified, looking to Vaike.
"Well it's only a battle if you're fighting." Robin glowered, turning three-quarters in his chair to remove a card from his hand and throw it across the table, "Choke on it," and returned his attention to the Shepherds.
"But essentially yes! At the same time the battle is occurring, Lord McNoble is atop the hill, putting the moves on her. Asking her to dance, complimenting her‒" Robin ran a hand over his face, "It was like if he didn't spend half the battle chatting with her he'd be forced to marry someone he barely knew! Or Sully!"
"Sup."
He owled his head around, finding her on the upper landing. She raised a drink at him.
"And I don't know which is worse!" Robin gestured with one hand and took an opposing tile the other.
"Thanks."
"Irregardless!" Robin stood, moving a pawn without looking at the board before stepping onto the table, "I'm locked in a mildly exciting duel-to-the-death with Gangrel. Nasty, ratchet, Gangrel. His name even sounds like an adjective to describe something foul. With his sword that shoots lighting ‒ yes like what you see in a storm only coming for your face!" He proclaimed, sparks emitting from outstretched fingertips as he knelt before enraptured patrons.
"Gangrel has a unit of mercenary swordsmen with him, he's sounding the horn for reinforcements, atop a fort raining lightning over a division I'm spearheading into the belly of the beast. Checkmate! We level the front gates and I order them to sound the call for the royal division to move in. Enemies are emerging from the forest below and we pull inside. I order the unit to hold the chokehold as long as they can while I move on Gangrel. I climb the tower, witnessing the battle outside every passing window, each step fearing any moment could be the shift in tides ‒ would there still be a Ylisse when I reached the top?!"
Robin took a deep breath, sweat beading his brow as he stepped onto the chessboard, crouched, moved a tile on the other table, and stood again arms wide.
"Lo! There was a Ylisse, and I would not let my friends down! If I alone had to face the man named after a disease that made leprosy sound like a sunburn then so be it ‒ There would be a Ylisse!"
Mugs raised to that as he continued, sweeping arms addressing the whole tavern now.
"He sneers at me with yellow teeth, sunken eyes so dark you want to stare into the sun to remind yourself 'Yes! There is a light if I can only persevere.' He raises his warlock blade, and I am not ashamed to admit I feel fear. Then I remember I am not alone. My friends and allies stand with me, and I shall not fear what cannot break such bonds! Except ‒ my allies are not with me, because someone wasn't in position when we called for aid, because said someone was making out."
"No way!" Vaike laughed and slammed his mug, "He didn't say that!"
"He didn't have to!" Robin planted his boot on the back of a chair and leaned forward, bringing a hand to his eyebrows to block the imaginary setting sun and looking out over the patrons watching with rapt attention. "Because I could see, in the far distance, two figures embraced atop a hill, and it was at that moment I knew… I was on my own. My brother had been taken from me, seduced by womanly wiles and helpless against the tide of lust and bosom that had overswept him."
"What did you do?" a complete stranger asked, staring.
"What my station required of me!" Robin placed a fist to his heart valiantly and soldiered on to the adjacent table, "I recognized our prince as a casualty of war and knew if there was to be victory this day it would be up to me to seize it! Gangrel and I exchanged magic blows, each second feeling borrowed from Death himself, knowing at any moment, he would collect his due."
"But you're still here," another stranger called as Robin knelt to angrily place a tile.
"Spoiler alert!" Robin stood indignantly, pointing to the door, "Vaike please escort this rotten tomato outside."
A brief struggle ensued before the man realized just how large Vaike was and left quietly as Robin carried on.
"Then the unthinkable. Gangrel got the upper hand as I failed to anticipate a move, leaving me open as his sword plunged forth." Robin clapped his hands, failing to catch an invisible blade and reeling backwards, "It stabbed into my chest, piercing my totally sweet cloak and stopping on the dozen talismans I'd stuffed in my pocket before the battle."
"They were supposed to protect him from magic," Vaike explained to Gaius, shrugging.
"Quite!" Robin nodded, holding open his robe to show the pocket that had saved his life, "And in his moment of victory he stood back to gloat, letting go of his blade. Tsumi!"
Robin kicked the shogi board to send tiles flying across the room. He fell silent, hands raised as if to say You may applaud now.
"So… What happened?"
"What do you mean what happened?" Robin frowned at the idiot who'd spoken, "I had two swords, he had none. He surrendered and Ylisse won the battle."
"That was a bit anticlimactic," Gaius commented scratching his chin.
"That's how you know it's a real story," Robin explained patiently, taking his opponent's card and laying down the final pile in Go Fish.
"And the Chess tournament is concluded!" A judge bellowed across the tavern, taking another slip of paper from an assistant, "As is the shogi tournament!"
"And the Go Fish tournament," Robin added, holding up the cards for the judge to take.
"There was no Go Fish tournament, sir."
"Oh. Then why the hell am I carrying these?" Robin asked, forcing the cards on him, "So now I get paid?"
"For which?" The judge asked, looking between the sheets in confusion.
"Both."
"You're… Robin?" The man asked, staring at the papers, "You won both tournaments?"
"And Go Fish."
"This‒ This is incredible!"
"Be more incredible if there was a Go Fish tournament."
"This calls for a celebration! A new title!"
"Can I just get paid?"
"Of course," the judge gestured for two pouches of gold and handed them to Robin, "but this is truly something‒ H-hey!"
"Where's he headed?" Gaius asked, standing to see where Robin had gone.
Robin opened the door, revealing Cordelia and Frederick. He pushed the knight aside, reciting "Rook to A3, takes queen, cornering king, you lose," before disappearing into the night.
"Better luck keeping track of sparrow," Gregor muttered, watching after their companion and shrugging.
"So that's the story of how Chrom met Olivia." Vaike chuckled, leaning in as the noise rose and bustle resumed in Robin's absence.
"Quite the tale! How much of it is real?"
"Enough that Chrom won't dispute it."
They looked over to see Cordelia take the table beside theirs. Frederick stood beside her awkwardly until she pulled him down to sit facing her.
"He just seems the type to… Embellish, is all," Gaius suggested, grinning thoughtfully.
"You don't believe him?" Vaike stared, flabbergasted.
"First rule of crime: never trust someone smarter than you..." Gaius smiled into his mug before taking a sip.
"Same first rule for mercenary." Gregor nodded, pointing a thick finger at Gaius, "But first rule of soldier proves more true now: trust man beside you. When you fall into trap, weapon break, in deep shit, man beside you is there. Robin is there many time for Gregor's men and Shepherds."
"You guys are a lot closer than other groups I've rolled with, I'll give you that." Gaius raised an eyebrow at their combined look of solidarity, and raised his mug, "To Robin, then."
"Master showboater," Cordelia chimed in.
"S-Class whiner," Sully called, coming down the stairs with Sumia to join them.
"Ne'er-do-well," Frederick added stonily.
"Good friend," Vaike raised his mug.
"And better man," Gregor finished, glancing up to the second level, but the corner table was empty.
Evening had fallen over the town, hanging lanterns along the streets betraying the lively tavern interiors for calm, quiet night air. The back roads were much quieter than the main streets, the odd stray ambling across the street often the only break in crickets' song.
That's what happened when the local business ran out of business. Or burned to the ground, as circumstances go.
A duet plucked somber strings across the road from the burned tavern as an old man sat on the steps, sighing into his hands. He'd had a good life, and while his inn had been in dire need of renovations, he hadn't expected it to end like that. Gone up in an inferno, his only solace being it hadn't spread to his neighbors' homes.
"Excuse me, sad old guy?"
He looked up to see a young man in dark robes and white hair, watching him.
"You the guy who used to own this joint?"
He nodded gravely, not recognizing this person as a regular.
"I'm… Sorta the guy who burned it to the ground. Name's Robin, you might have heard of me‒"
"Robin," the old man spoke quietly, interrupting him. "You have ruined me. I have precious little in this world, this tavern was my life."
"Your life was highly flammable."
He stared at Robin, quiet anger rising. "I have nothing else for you to take. If you've returned to mock, do it and begone."
"Relax, I'm here for amends and such!" Robin announced, producing two satchels that clinked merrily. "See? Money! More than your crappy tavern was worth I'm sure."
He held them out for the man to take, but he simply stared back.
"I don't know whether to curse you, or strike you for your insolence."
"Well if you have to choose please curse me, I've been struck… Stricken?" Robin thought for a moment. "Strucken enough for one week."
"I don't know that there's a limit, for men like you," the old man muttered, taking the purse warily as though Robin might snatch it away.
"If it will really make you feel better, I guess you can strike me. Preferably somewhere bony, though, where you might break a finger."
The old man sighed and pushed off his knees, standing to his full height as a wagon pulled onto the road. "I will say this only once, because this was your fault to begin with, but you've returned to make amends where most people wouldn't. Thank you. Now get off my street."
The wagon stopped before the burnt out tavern, merchant coming down to embrace the old man as Robin departed. "I'm sorry, father. I couldn't sell any roses today…"
Robin had reached the end of the block when the younger-older man caught up to him. Robin turned in time to be embraced, wondering what was happening as he was lifted off his feet in a tight hug.
"Thank you sir, thank you thank you."
"In the spirit of transparency, you know I'm the one who destroyed it in the first place?"
"You didn't have to come back, and for that I thank you. Please, take one of these."
Robin looked to see a dark blue rose pushed into his hand, the man retreating back up the street where the old man watched with arms folded.
"This is one of those roses that make me find love or something, right?"
"Right! Good luck, sir!"
Robin admired the rose as he meandered through the streets, no direction in mind. He'd done just about everything he'd set out to do today, now if only...
"Robin!"
He turned from the rose and smiled at Cherche across the street.
"Cherche!" he replied matching her tone of enthusiasm. She met him in the middle of the cobble road and took a deep breath.
"I… Really need to talk to you, do you have a minute?"
"For you, sure. But only the one."
She smiled hesitantly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Now she was here she looked uncertain of what to say.
"You actually bought one those roses?"
"Oh would you look at that, I guess I did!" Robin stared in surprise at the rose in his hand, "I just have so much gold, y'know, can't really keep track of buying extravagant things for people I care about. And not noticing how much they cost because, as aforementioned, I have so much of it."
"I'm surprised you were able to make it to the city today." She smiled, holding his hand up so she could examine the rose closer in the streetlight.
"Had a free afternoon."
"Did you? I overheard Chrom mentioning you left some duties unfinished." She raised an eyebrow at him, but he shrugged unfazed.
"Oh that Chrom and his compulsive lies. He really can't help himself."
"I'm sure."
She fell quiet and they fell into awkward silence.
It wasn't just her, he realized. He too had something over him and was unable to bring it up. They spoke simultaneously.
"So I uh..."
"Did you...?"
He cleared his throat, nodding at her but she shook her head.
"Please," she offered.
"I ah… It's funny you wanted to see me, because I've been meaning to talk to you, too."
Her posture was rigid as they strolled along the quiet street. She waited for him to continue.
"We haven't known each other too long, but it feels like the last few days have been throwing us together a lot, and I don't expect the coming weeks to be different. You've proven yourself a strong, capable woman and I've been grateful to spend the time that I have with you. And I wanted to know if..."
She was staring at a spot on the building ahead, brow furrowed, chewing the inside of her lip, looking like her worst fears were being realized. While their growing closer had piqued his interest in her romantically, it was apparent she was looking for nothing more than friendship.
He cleared his throat and paused.
After a moment of silence, she looked to him with held breath, likely expecting to see that crushed expression. That defeated, helpless look all women were guilty of causing at some point in time, yet couldn't be blamed for.
"I mean I just wanted to ah... Make my intentions clear, because communication is key to any working friendship... That I consider you a friend and that I have no intention of breaching that trust."
She exhaled in relief, shoulders relaxing instantly and she let out a sigh.
"I'm sorry if I had you worried for a minute there," he chuckled but she shook her head with a smile.
"Not at all, I've been meaning to have the same conversation with you, and I'm gladdened we're of similar minds. You are a trusted friend and I enjoy your company, and would like to continue to rely on you as this war continues."
"'Rely' on me," he repeated with a grin, "I think you have our roles reversed."
"I was being polite. Naturally I'll always be there when you need rescuing."
"Well hopefully there won't be a time when I have to pay you back." Robin grinned, twirling the rose between his fingers.
"Was that for someone?" she asked, cocking her head.
"What, it doesn't look good on me?" He looked hurt, putting it to his ear, "I happen to love roses, and don't feel I need an excuse to buy one."
"You are well within your right and I apologize." She bowed and looked up the road, "I heard some Shepherds are meeting at a tavern around here, care to join them?"
"I actually feel like doing some exploring, I've spent all day with people," he explained with a smile, twirling the rose again.
"Okay, be careful. And please don't burn any more inns to the ground."
"I don't want to be a liar so I will not promise anything," he vowed solemnly, waving farewell as she turned up the road, "Good night!"
He watched her until she was out of sight, alone in the street. A sea breeze picked up, rustling his hair. He sighed, slowly rotating the rose before him and smelling it.
The lone figure in the road turned and departed in the direction of the docks as the moon peeked over the mountains behind them. Narrowed blue eyes watched him from a nearby rooftop. Feroxi nights brought a chill to the air that called for warmer clothing, but Lucina couldn't be bothered.
She'd inquired about Robin all day and the closest she'd come to unearthing anything secretive about him was watching him donate his day's earnings in reparations to the owner of the inn. She thought of what Gregor had said, finding what she was looking for versus the truth. She'd told herself what the truth was, but perhaps that's where she went wrong. Perhaps she should stop looking, and start watching.
Lucina hated to think of compromising herself, what she knew to be history, but maybe in simply observing there were new truths to be learned. Out of respect for her elders and father, she could try.
She silently lifted herself from the stone roof and descended the cracked side of the building. She spotted something in the street and moved to where he'd stood, watching after Lady Cherche.
A blue rose lay in the road. She frowned, nudging it with her boot, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger. When it simply rolled over she knelt, holding it up to the moon's light.
It shimmered an amazing blue in the moonlight, sparkling like a thousand-faceted diamond in her hand and making her breath catch. It was stunningly beautiful.
Lucina couldn't hear what Robin and Cherche were discussing from their distance, but why would he discard this precious flower? She'd never seen another like it.
She held the rose as she followed Robin's path towards the harbor, not bothering to entertain the thought that he was on his way to a secret rendezvous, or find a corner to plot and cackle. His illusion of being human was either genuine, or so perfect he'd never be found out simply by being followed at night.
The sound of the ocean around the next corner made Lucina slow, drawing up to the side of the building to peek around the side.
Robin sat at the edge of the dock, knees to his chest, back to her. He wasn't talking, writing or… Doing anything. Just watching the water. It occurred to her this was the first time she'd seen him do nothing. He was always mid-action ‒ or actions. To see him simply sitting was borderline unreal. Like watching a wave motionless on the ocean.
She looked to the rose.
Lucina immediately hardened herself against the pang of sympathy that crept up on her. This was her father's killer ‒ a million fathers' killer. He was the end of their world, he didn't deserve sympathy.
Robin sighed, looking skyward.
Lucina scowled, uncertain if she hated that she was believing his act or the prospect that he might actually feel things. She preferred the former.
He leaned back on his hands, letting his feet hang over the dock. Lucina waited for another minute, then stepped out of the shadows. Robin looked around as she neared, seeing the rose at her side.
"Don't laugh," he chuckled, hanging his head in resignation.
"I don't," she replied plainly, examining the rose and looking out over the bay. "Nor do I derive pleasure from your pain."
"Don't be dramatic, it was a crush."
Lucina considered him for a moment, and turned forward. "It didn't… It doesn't happen. What you seek, you never found."
"Wait what? I die alone and unloved?!" Robin exclaimed, sitting upright and staring at her.
"You didn't die, but…"
"Oh…"
Robin let out a sigh of relief, looking skyward again.
"That's a good thing?" Lucina asked, bewildered.
"Well now all the pressure's off, right? You just told me it never happens so I don't have to look anymore. Life just got even easier."
"You're okay with that?"
"Apparently I don't have a say."
"You can… There's always hope to try," Lucina offered, unsure if 'challenging fate' applied to romance.
"I can live a full life without romance. There's friends, food, and experiences abound. Get too caught up in all the things you don't have, and you'll miss out on a lot more."
"So you won't even try?" Lucina asked, realizing this was the danger of revealing the historical future.
"And waste my time? Why should I! You've probably just saved me years of life. I knew you'd come in handy. Tell me, what else can you spoil for me? Do I ever run a sub-six minute mile, or can I stop trying?"
"I do not know, nor would I tell you. I fear I've damaged time enough for one day."
"Isn't that the point?" he asked, but let the topic digress as they turned to the sound of waves.
She stood beside him for another minute before he gestured to the half-mile of open dock beside him.
"Public seating, if you're going to stay a while," he offered.
She hesitated, then sat a good meter away from him. They sat that way until the moon was high above, content to not speak, him watching the light on the water, her the light on the rose.