Today -3:
It's been several days since hearing any news from Plegia. I hope the promised ships are actually coming, or I will feel very silly.
Other than that, life's good. Olivia's arrival has been a mixed blessing, providing a welcome distraction from Lucina's scrutiny, but also taking up much of Chrom's time. Which I guess isn't so bad. Now he can't ask me to do stuff. With zero oversight, I can begin my plans of world domination.
T -2:
Chrom found me and asked me to do stuff. Plan tactics and somesuch.
World domination postponed until further notice. Ylisse and Feroxi detachments have been arriving every day, army outside the port growing by the hundreds.
I thought I'd be able to sneakfully escape my duties with the usual "I did it already," and "Look, over there!" but Frederick has become seasoned to my deceptions. I now sit under guard in working conditions no human should be subject to.
I'm in the middle of the command tent, with Frederick by the door and Lucina hovering nearby, presumably to offer a reaffirming cuddle should the need arise. Chrom is nowhere to be found, though at night I believe I can hear him engaging in raucous copulation with Olivia.
Naga help me, if they make a third (fourth?) Lucina I'll save them the trouble and use this quill to kill myself.
T -1:
Lon'qu arrived today. Compared to my usual company, he was an absolute delight, full of jovial humor and unabashed emotional outbursts. Then I had to send him away on his top secret mission.
After dinner I used to classic "Dinner didn't agree with me" line to stay out in the hills for almost two full hours! And I didn't even have to eat dinner! Fresh air never tasted so sweet.
Lucina came to "check on me" (making sure I wasn't going to escape). I told her I was a lycanthrope and she should leave me alone while I howled at the moon. She noted it was only a crescent moon. I told her it was just a perfectly shaped cloud blocking it and to run back to camp before I turned.
Less funny when Frederick showed up some time later. I've never been carried so effortlessly before.
Today
I've decided to take up journaling as a way of documenting important history as it happens, but primarily to look busy. All this etching away at parchment while Frederick and Lucina have staring contests with the back of my head gives me the chance to be slightly less bored while pretending to work.
I considered going over some plans, but the ships aren't even here yet and I've stopped sleeping, so I guess I have time. I will continue to protest my treatment by simply memorizing the ship rosters and dossiers I'm supposed to do something with. Now to fill the next 20 hours of my day...
If you're reading this: save me.
Today 2:
The ships are finally here, and with them any doubts Validar was holding out on us. These beauties are big enough to shuttle a hundred men with cargo. We've enough to carry over the vanguard and then some to create a landing base, and Chrom wants to launch the fleet in one week.
If you're reading this you didn't save me yesterday, so I'm giving you another chance. I'm bored out of my mind and if you confine me to this for another 168 hours I'll be very upset with you, whoever you are.
Full lips pulled into a smile as long fingers neatly folded the paper crumpled paper. This worked out well. She'd been needing to speak with him, but that statuesque knight and young harlot had made private visitations impossible.
She slinked out from the shadow between two tents, casting a wary eye around the campfires before making her way to the command tent where Frederick stood on "break," eating his dinner. He lowered his plate upon seeing her, wiping his mouth.
"Lady Tharja."
"You're in my way," she drawled, glaring at him. "I need to speak with my husband."
"Robin is busy," Frederick stated, feet coming nowhere close to moving.
"No I'm not! Who's there?!"
Frederick's thin lips grew thinner. "Robin is occupied planning the invasion,-"
"Quickly, kill the guard and set me free!"
"A task he would be finished with had he started when he sat behind the desk four days ago," Frederick finished, speaking loud enough to turn heads around the campfires.
"This is regarding the invasion, information he needs to hear," Tharja raised her voice as well, but was met with a moment of silence.
"Is that Tharja…? Don't come in! I'm… dead! Frederick don't let her-!"
"Information regarding the invasion is paramount," Frederick seemed to have decided upon hearing Robin's panic, standing aside to allow Tharja to pass. It seemed rare for the knight to indulge in such pettiness, but days of confinement had evidently worn down his discipline.
She stepped into the tent, Frederick following right behind likely to watch Robin's expression.
"Your wife wishes to speak with you."
Robin rolled his eyes, sitting back down from where he'd been standing at his desk. "Because working hasn't been fun enough, with The Gargoyle and Princess Pleasantries watching every move I make. You know there's enough paper to go around, if anyone wants to help?"
He offered papers to the corner and Tharja turned to see Lucina arms folded, watching in silence.
"Gargoyle?"
"I'm on break," Frederick declined politely, raising his dinner plate.
"You haven't been working," Tharja corrected, producing the folded paper and tucking it under her robe again. Robin stared at the ground.
"Literally. Anyone else."
"And I have information regarding the invasion," Tharja explained, glancing around the tent, "Perhaps we could have a moment to ourselves?"
Lucina's eyes narrowed, looking between them.
"One of them should stay," Robin insisted, pleadingly looking between Lucina's suspicious glare and Frederick's indifference.
"Not her," Tharja voiced, returning the girl's glare.
"Not him," Robin insisted, "I'm mad at him."
Frederick took another bite of his dinner and stepped outside, evidently satisfied with the damage he'd done. Tharja scowled at Lucina before ignoring her completely, turning to Robin.
"While at the waterside the other day I felt something was wrong. I've divined as much as I could, but all I'm able to discern is that something dark stirs in the depths."
"You're using a lot of vague descriptions I can't really make plans around-"
"What do you sense, Lady Tharja?" Lucina interrupted, unfolding her arms and crossing the tent towards them.
"Our voyage will be marked by disaster. We cannot sail once whatever lurks has awoken," Tharja warned, taking the opportunity to place her hands around Robin's.
"So… We just send a letter to Walhart, 'Jk, have fun conquering'?" Robin asked, suppressing the urge to smile at the absurdity of it. "We kinda already have the army gathered, we might as well throw them around a bit."
"I'm telling you what will happen if we sail. It isn't often I receive premonitions this clear, so when I warn of what's to come, you'd do well to heed me," Tharja spoke sternly, looking into his eyes.
He blinked, tugging at his trapped hand in vain.
"She's right," Lucina commented, coming to the other side of the table and drawing both their stares. "We should plan around this."
"Because…" Robin prompted, trying to pull his hand free but Tharja held tighter.
"Because I've read the omens, and I know catastrophe awaits us at sea."
Robin turned to Lucina, Your turn.
"Because I fear I know of what Lady Tharja speaks of. If we are caught on open seas, we will surely perish."
"Well I certainly don't want that," Robin mused, turning to the piles of paper before him with his free hand. He pushed over an entire stack onto the floor, pulling a paper from the middle of the pile to read. "But if we could cut down on travel time…"
"This child makes a simple demand and you heed her?!" Tharja exclaimed, dropping his hand.
"'Child,' she's barely younger than you," Robin muttered, glancing between her and the alarmed Lucina. "And it was hardly a demand- she made a reasonable suggestion well within the realm of possibility. I think we could accelerate the ships..."
"She said no such thing!"
"Did she not?" Robin asked, not looking anymore as he scrawled something in the margin of the page listing active mages in their company.
"I did not, no."
"Would it work? Could we simply beat whatever you're talking about in a race across the sea?" Robin asked.
Lucina turned to Tharja, who stared at him flipping to a fresh page. "At this very moment the way is safe, but for how long I cannot say-"
"Excellent, good work Lucina," Robin spoke into the logbook he pulled closer.
Steam might have been coming out of Tharja's ears as she leaned forward, slamming the book closed and forcing his gaze up.
An incredibly awkward silence followed.
"I'm going to fetch supper," Lucina muttered, clearing her throat and making for the door.
"You already ate," Robin commented, watching her progress halt as the realization hit her.
"Why won't you have me, Robin?" Tharja demanded, standing straighter now. "Does my appearance not please you?"
"Wha- No, you're pleasing!" Robin insisted, desperate not to be alone with her, "Lucina, help me."
"Don't look at her! You're married to me!"
"I'm not married to anyone! Lucina tell-"
"Stop looking at her!"
"I'm going to go…" Lucina trailed off, failing to invent a task, "Leave."
"Our union was preordained by the priests, I am to receive your seed, and bear a child that heralds unbridled power."
"I-I'm-you- What?!"
"The prophecies state your seed will be the strongest in the history of the great bloodline-"
"Stop talking about my seed!"
Lucina sidled along the wall of the tent, eyeing the entrance like it was the only land in sight in the middle of an ocean.
"I'm talking about your fate!" Tharja snapped.
"I challenge my fate!" Robin declared, standing.
"Just going to… Go now…"
"Give me your child, Robin!" Tharja demanded, striding around the table. He moved to keep the obstacle between them.
"You can't have my seed!"
"If you mean to impregnate her before me..." Tharja growled, pointing at Lucina who'd almost reached the exit.
"That's not going to-" Lucina began, startling when the tent flap opened beside her.
"Who's impregnating…" Chrom stepped into the tent and looked around, following Tharja's finger and raising an eyebrow at the only other male in the room.
"Robin, do you intend to impregnate my daughter?"
"Stop saying impregnate! There is no impregnating going on!" Robin bellowed, causing heads outside to turn.
"Good, because I just received some battle plans from the Khans that I'd like to go over with you."
"Good!"
"Why are you shouting?"
"I don't know!"
"Is this a… Bad time?" Chrom asked, looking between them all. "The fate of our nations and the human race are at stake in a battle Robin has done next to zero preparation for, but if you need a moment for a love triangle we can wait."
"Right!"
"Robin stop shouting."
"Make your plans," Tharja spoke softly, but the danger in her voice made everyone stare, "But if you share a bed with her before me I will castrate you."
Chrom raised an eyebrow at her, then to Robin. "You get all that?"
"First Tharja... Then Lucina..." Robin repeated, writing an invisible note in his hand.
Tharja bristled, glowering at Lucina as she left. Chrom moved to lay the plans out before Robin.
"I'm sorry, Father," Lucina apologized, turning immediately as the flap closed, "That was highly inappropriate, I can explain-"
Chrom looked up from the plans, nonplussed. "Hm?"
She stared at him. "About that… Interaction. Lady Tharja has the wrong impression, I've no intention towards Robin."
Chrom's lip quivered but he spoke calmly. "I'll try to keep that in mind."
"If ill rumors are started because of this miscommunication-"
"Lucina, this is Robin," Chrom introduced, resting a hand on the other man's shoulder as Robin flipped through the plans, "I'm not sure if you've met, but being within the general vicinity requires some suspending the notions of propriety."
"I… See."
"People will say strange things around him. Try not to take it, or him, too seriously."
Lucina glanced at Robin who was ignoring them, then to Chrom. "Father, may I speak with you privately?"
Chrom frowned at her uneasy expression, and nodded. He followed her outside where others were finishing dinner around campfires, and they moved to the side of the tent.
"I do not recall Robin being married."
"Then you have a good memory," Chrom affirmed, smiling softly but she shook her head.
"From my time. There was no mention of him taking a wife- he spent his life alone, without love."
Chrom watched her carefully, clearly not understanding. "And this… Bothers you."
"Yes. It means history is already being rewritten, events I had no intention of changing being altered," Lucina explained, looking to the ground as if being scolded, "There were others, who came back with me. Some I found and kept in contact with. But there's no telling who could be influencing what."
"You think one of your friends made it all the way into Plegia and convinced Tharja to go crazy over Robin?" Chrom asked, bemused.
"I don't know, they could be anywhere, affecting people in unforeseeable ways. I fear… My returning-"
"And I'm going to stop you right there," Chrom interrupted with a smile, pulling her chin up. "If your very presence is already changing the way history plays out, imagine what your actions will accomplish. You made the right call to return to the past, and I won't hear any more reservations about your decision. A leader has too many responsibilities to waste time second guessing herself, understood?"
"Y-yes, Father," she uttered, returning his smile. "I know you're right. I just feel it's important to account for every consequence, good or bad. 'A leader is absolved of no responsibility.'"
"I didn't teach you that, did I?" Chrom asked, wincing. She nodded.
"I felt it was an important lesson, if a bit grim. It taught me the realities of my birthright, that people would always look to people in our position for both guidance, and fault."
"Well I don't like it," Chrom announced, shaking his head, "From now on, you let me worry about the duties of leadership. I want you to enjoy a life as a young twenty..." Chrom hesitated before tilting his head, "How old are you?"
"I'm unsure. Days and nights began to blend into a perpetual grey, seasons stopped coming, and we had other things on our minds than holidays. I stopped counting birthdays after my nineteenth…" Lucina said, half-shrugging her indifference. "But Father, this is my purpose. I came back for this reason,-"
"And it will be done," Chrom affirmed, smiling, "But you are far too young to worry about this yet."
"I'm only a few years younger than you…" she argued, not understanding his argument.
"I'm king. I get different rules."
"Father, I'm not a child."
"Wrong," Chrom corrected, putting his hands on her shoulders, "You're my child. And all any parent wants is to see their children happy. I don't want you to grow up cold, so focused on the next 'mission' you can't see the life before you. I want to see you smile, and laugh…" Her head had turned downwards again and he lifted her chin once more with a smile. "Maybe get married."
She returned his smile and looked upwards with a sigh. "I will try. To smile and laugh, I mean," she added quickly.
He rested a hand on her head, "Regarding your first concern, don't think too much about it. You and the others who returned will all shape the future in your own ways, and that's exactly how it's meant to be. Don't blame yourself, just be you. A twenty-one-ish year old girl with her whole life ahead of her. It's okay to make mistakes and try new things, that isn't a death sentence here."
"One thing at a time. I don't believe the years of conditioning from my time will be overturned by one conversation-"
"And maybe trim your hair again, that was cute," Chrom muttered, bringing his hands up the sides of her head.
She removed his hands, recognizing he was teasing her, and gave him the scowl daughters reserved for fathers.
He laughed and embraced her, her mumbling into his shoulder, "You are far more jovial than I remember."
"Perhaps I'm making up for lost time," he said, shrugging as she hugged him.
"Thank you, Father. For being you."
"Anytime. Now you go be you, I need to talk to Robin about-"
"Battle plans?"
They jumped as Robin announced his presence, brandishing some hastily scrawled note pages.
"And I was worried you would take your time," Chrom muttered, staring as he took them, "Given this battle is the crux for everything to… Robin these list two ships and… Two hundred soldiers at most."
"Right, about that. We need to leave tonight."
"What?" Chrom asked, waiting for the telltale smirk or chuckle that didn't come, "Why?"
"Because!" Robin held up a finger, pausing. "Recent intel suggests the seas will become very dangerous very soon, so we're launching a vanguard for the vanguard to establish a landing base and secure our footing in Valm, before committing the remainder of the coalition."
"Who brought this intel in?" Chrom asked, frowning at the pages again, "And when? I've only been absent the past hour."
"An advisor, moments ago," Robin answered, glancing at Lucina who was remaining silent.
Chrom turned the pages over only to find them blank, asking, "What kind of danger? Pirates, or is Walhart preparing some form of defense...?"
"A very serious… Dangerous type of… Danger."
Chrom finally looked up from the pages. "Robin."
"Chrom?"
"What kind of danger?"
"The ominous kind…?"
"Lucina, who brought him this intel?" Chrom asked, turning from Robin.
"Lady Tharja," she answered immediately, tilting her head at Robin's expression.
"And what exactly did she warn against?"
"She had a premonition that our voyage will be met with disaster," she continued, staring at Robin who was shaking his head in disbelief at her.
"I see," Chrom sighed, folding the papers in half and turning back to Robin, "And I think you can imagine my response."
"Call it a gut feeling. When have I given you bad advice?"
"Literally every day. And I still trust you completely," Chrom promised, glancing at Lucina as if to say And this is the other side of the job. "But while you're unbound by responsibility and free to make outlandish commands, I have to answer to my people, and I'm the one who has to deal with the political nightmare that follows. So please, just this once, please give me a reason to move the invasion up a full week."
"Because you'll feel really silly when we launch in a week and everyone you know and love dies horribly?
"Because if we are to succeed, we must launch the invasion as soon as possible." They looked to Lucina who met her father's gaze evenly, expression stern. "Tonight, if able."
"I'm sorry, did… Did she just agree with me?" Robin muttered, covering Chrom's head, "Watch out for falling brimstone."
Chrom waved him off and settled his eyes on Lucina, weighing her expression. "You know something of which Tharja spoke. Is there a reason you won't explain it?"
"Knowledge won't make a difference, and I would spare you the nightmares," she told them, voice lowering with her gaze. "But Robin is right, we must sail as quickly as possible with whatever we can muster. Once we're across the sea… We can think of a more permanent solution."
Chrom nodded slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek. What was the point of having a foreseer if they didn't make use of her knowledge?
"Very well. I'll inform the Khans, organize two separate landings," Chrom muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as comprehension of how long his evening would be settled in, "Get supplies, horses, gear loaded up, rally the Shepherds…"
"I'll watch," Robin offered.
"You'll help," Chrom corrected, gesturing to the campfires, "Start spreading the word, get them on their feet and packing. We'll leave when the Shepherds are able."
"Thank you, Father."
"Thank you, for helping us avoid 'disaster,'" Chrom replied, glancing at Robin, "Just… Try not to encourage him, okay?"
Lucina gave Chrom a meek smile as he departed and called for Frederick who appeared at his side a moment later. Chrom explained something and Frederick turned immediately to the nearest campfire, commanding them to prepare for the voyage.
Robin cleared his throat. "Thanks."
She glanced at him. "I swore to do everything in my power to maintain history's course,-"
"Isn't that like, an awful idea though?" He frowned, "I mean your future sounds terrible. Shouldn't you be changing everything possible?"
"And when the time comes to change the one mistake that needs to be rectified, I will," she finished solemnly, turning to him with a hand on sword hilt.
He looked to Falchion, then her. "I'm growing on you aren't I."
She rolled her eyes, making for the command tent. He followed, smile tugging at his lips before the flap of wings overhead made them look up.
Yells came from the middle of camp where Shepherds were finishing dinner as a wyvern landed in the commander's circle, hissing at Vaike who backed away brandishing a ladle.
Frederick pushed past the gathering men, lowering their spears as the masked rider dismounted. The mystery man looked around impressively, patting the wyvern's scarred head.
Even from this distance Robin could see windswept hair, fair skin, chiseled jawline. His cape billowed appropriately after the dramatic entrance. A real prick.
"I'm looking for the Ylissean camp," the tall dark stranger spoke in a gravelly voice that couldn't have been natural.
"You've found it," Frederick answered, matching the wyvern's stare with his own, "And who are you?"
"Gerome!"
Robin stared as Lucina pushed through the crowd and stopped before the wyvern rider, positively restraining herself from embracing him.
"Lucina," the perfect lips under the mask pulled into the most arrogant half-smirk Robin had ever seen.
"You made it. I feared my message would not reach you in time," she breathed in relief, holding herself as the crowd behind her began to disperse.
Robin nodded the okay to Frederick and the knight gave them one last look before departing.
"You look well," Gerome said, reaching forward to touch her elbow and giving a subtle once-over. "It's been too long."
"Have you been in contact with the others? Will they come?" she asked hopefully.
"I fear it's only me. With luck we'll find the others along the way, they should be familiar with the campaign trail," Gerome replied, mouth turning to a scowl that explained the mouth lines. "In the meantime, I'm here to aid where I can. Whatever you need from me-"
"Oh good then you can carry this," Robin appeared, dropping a heavy bag he'd found into Gerome's arms.
"Where should it go?" Gerome frowned, looking him up and down.
"Wherever you came from," Robin suggested, pointing vaguely.
"Ah."
Gerome watched him pointedly, and dropped the bag to the floor.
"This is Gerome," Lucina introduced, standing beside him to face Robin, "A respected warrior from my time."
"He dresses like a tool."
"Robin!"
"Tell him I hate him."
"Robin!"
"Robin?" Gerome repeated, looking to Lucina as Robin nodded impressively.
"Robin. Chief Tactician, Grandmaster Strategist, Go-Fish… Winner."
Gerome ignored him, focusing on Lucina who shook her head.
"I'll explain later," Lucina muttered, picking the bag up and thrusting it into Robin's chest, "Come, we've much to discuss."
They turned to depart, Lucina giving Robin a glare so cold it would snuff fire as she led Gerome to the command tent. Robin tilted his head back and forth to mouth her words, turning to come face-to-face with Gaius. The boy grinned, rolling a toothpick to the other side of his mouth.
"Never figured you to be the jealous type."
"Jealous?! Wha-who, sh-shheah right!"
"Was that a sentence?"
"Why would I be jealous, because I want a wet blanket hanging over my shoulder at all times? Or because some freakishly tall, unnecessarily dark, and assholishly confident Guy just joined the ranks?"
"He's not that tall..."
"Are you packed?" Robin frowned at him, looking over the cliffside to see the ships loading up with troops and supplies.
"Will be, once I get my bag back."
Robin looked to the sack in his hands, handing it over. Gaius glanced inside and slung it over his shoulder.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Gerome who?" Robin shot him an annoyed glance, then shook his head, "I don't have time for your mind games right now Gaius, I have a lot of imaginary work to pretend to take care of."
Gaius shrugged and watched him make for the command tent before Robin remembered who was inside and made an obvious detour to another part of camp.
Inside the command tent Lucina glanced to the entrance where boots stopped as if to enter, then turned away. She looked to Gerome who slowly removed his mask.
"How is it 'complicated?'" he asked, piercing eyes locking on hers, "He's the enemy. This is a simple mission."
"That's what I believed, but this isn't our time, Gerome. We can't simply execute someone on a suspicion," she explained, averting her gaze.
"We are proof. We know who he is, what he does. This is why we're here." Gerome glanced around the tent, "We can do it tonight. You move freely through the camp, I'll make a diversion while you complete the mission. We'll meet at the trailhead south-"
"I will not sneak about camp like an assassin," Lucina stated, staring at him with a slight frown.
Gerome folded his arms, gaze hardening. "You've never shirked the role before."
"That was before-"
"And this is now. Lucina, we've traveled through time itself to reach this point, all the lives sacrificed for us to have this opportunity, you would cast them aside for notions of newfound righteousness?" he asked, displeasure evident in his voice. "Why has it taken this long?"
"Because now is not the time. We are not in that world anymore," Lucina met his gaze, standing her ground. "And I do not need to be reminded of my duties. I know what is at stake, and I am in control of the situation. When the time comes, I will handle it."
Gerome closed his mouth, meeting her gaze for a moment before looking down. "I apologize. I forget myself, it's been so long and I…" He glanced up to meet her softening gaze, "I missed you. I've been worried about you, and finally seeing you… My emotions got the better of me."
He tentatively reached forward to touch her arm.
"Gerome…" Lucina muttered, hesitating before taking his hand in hers.
She guided his hand back to his side, and let go.
"We are about to go into war, again," she explained as he stiffened, "And… That was before, Gerome. It's been too long."
"It's been so long," he corrected, but not making another attempt at contact. "It can be different this time. Give me the chance to prove it."
She looked at him, giving a half-shake with her head. He sighed.
"Was it so terrible?"
"It's not what I'm looking for," she explained, "My attention is on the coming weeks, on everything we've strived for. Maybe, once everything is over…" she trailed off as his attention perked, before shaking her head again. "We can talk about it."
He seemed content with that, nodding with a small smile as he donned his mask again.
"So, you will trust me in the coming time?" Lucina asked, offering her hand, "To lead you as I once did?"
"I am at your side, Lucina," he replied, taking her forearm in a firm grip, "Always."
Well after midnight Chrom's initial estimations proved accurate. More than half the troops including the entire cavalry would be delayed. In an order no one outside the upper circle understood, they were dividing their invasion force into the most elite with the entire leadership spearheading the assault across two ships, to be followed by everything else an army needed to win a war several days later.
The hope was to get the leadership across the sea before disaster struck. The alternative was a very quick end to the war.
"I hope you know what you're doing…" Chrom sighed, arms folded as he looked out from the bridge of the Gahzi, one of two capital ships making the initial voyage. Crew loaded supplies and armaments below deck.
"You know me better than that," Robin replied, leaning forward on the guardrail, eyes narrowing, "Oh come on..."
Gerome walked Lucina up to the dock, wyvern in tow.
"Don't we have like, a weight requirement or something?"
"Talk to the captain about that," Chrom yawned, putting his back to the rail to look at Robin now, "Y'know, some people wait one, even two whole minutes before deciding to hate someone forever."
"I don't hate him," Robin objected, grinding his teeth, "I just don't like anything about him."
"'Course not," Chrom chuckled, looking back at his daughter and Gerome, "I mean, what's to like. His fabulous hair? You have nice hair."
"Do I?"
"You've got a better smile too. I haven't seen him smile."
"He smirks."
"He would," Chrom acknowledged with wrinkled nose. "You've got cooler eyes, I bet."
"He wears a mask. He probably has really boring eyes. Or a lazy eye!"
"Or no eyes!" Chrom raised his eyebrows.
"That'd be weird."
"You feel better now though."
"I do," Robin admitted, tilting his head thanks in his friend's direction.
They watched Lucina and Gerome speak for another minute before she turned to the ship and walked up the plank.
"That's right, stop right there," Robin narrated as Gerome paused at the edge of the dock to watch Lucina, "Aaaand fall. Fall, dammit."
"He's too graceful to just fall."
"I bet he's a dancer. A ballet dancer!"
"There's nothing wrong with men who dance, Robin."
"Not 'wrong,' just… Okay, if you had a son who loved to dance, you'd support him?"
"With all my heart," Chrom answered simply. "You wouldn't?"
"Of course I would, but I'm awesome. Though I'd be also be a little resentful for him not being a daughter."
"You want a daughter?"
"More than a son."
Chrom stood straighter, thoughtfully looking him over. "Tharja have you thinking about kids?"
Robin glowered at him.
"Have you picked out names yet?"
"Yeah we were bouncing between 'Screw,' and 'You.'"
"Terrible names," Chrom dismissed, shaking his head. "You should go for a name that can be either gender. Those are cute."
"Stop saying things are cute. You're spending too much time with Olivia."
"I'll let her know you said that."
"Don't," Robin uttered quickly, glancing at him to make sure he wasn't serious, "Don't do that."
"Robin, forgive my bluntness, but now you have me thinking… You would be a terrible father."
"Oh the worst," Robin agreed vehemently, staring at him before something on the main deck caught his eye. "Finally, there's the captain. Time to earn my keep."
"You can do that?"
Robin flipped him off as he made towards the stairs.
"See you when I see you," Chrom called, smiling as Robin made for the captain currently on an intercept trajectory with Gerome.
"Sorry lad, no reptiles aboard my vessel. Bad luck."
"You're being compensated for your journey, I see no problem," Gerome argued, holding the wyvern's reigns.
"Captain," Lucina doubled back to join in the conversation, "he is more than capable of handling any trouble it may cause."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, miss," the captain gave her a once over. "There's another ship for all the giant lizards and horses, you can shack it up there."
"She does better with me around," Gerome argued, resting a hand on the wyvern's forehead.
"Then stay with her. But yer not comin' aboard with that beast!"
Lucina cast a dark look at Robin as if this were his doing. He threw up his arms, wondering how this could possibly be his fault.
"I wish to travel with Gerome."
"Cool story." He touched the captain's shoulder to get his attention, "My quarters?"
Lucina moved between them. "I cannot leave you unsupervised."
"Thanks mom, but I'm not 23 anymore."
Robin knew her dilemma: if she wanted to keep an eye on him, she'd be forced to separate from her companion. It's true, she'd become marginally more tolerable over the last few days. And though the prospect of a long, smooth voyage without her hovering over him, scouring every battle plan for unnecessary sacrifices or letters for hidden code, was a pleasant one, frankly he didn't care. He'd be removed from the world for the next few days, and how she spent her free time was so beyond the realm of his inkling to care, he simply stepped past her, pulling the captain along.
"Promise I won't kill Chrom."
She stiffened, clearly astounded he'd even jest about it. Gerome was back on the dock, mask tilted toward him and Lucina.
Robin waved in the dock's direction and dismissed her, "I assure you we will see one another again, and it will be too soon. Now please, go have amazing catch-up sex with your boyfriend."
She mouthed words she was too shocked to give voice to, head shaking quickly as a blush spread her features.
"I‒it's not‒!"
"Were my quarters set up as requested, Captain?" Robin ignored her, leading the grizzled man towards the lower deck.
"Aye, sir. A private room, as Lord Chrom requested. For you and the missus."
"I'm not…" Robin's fingers clenched the air before him and he took a deep breath, "Please just show me to my room. I have work to do."
"Of course."
Robin followed the man below deck, winding around tight corridors and soldiers picking out spots of floor to lay out bedrolls.
"Ever carry so many at once before, captain?"
"No, but the pay's never been better either."
Robin considered him for a moment. The captain was a weathered, heavy built man, but didn't strike him as Plegian.
"You're a hired crew," Robin surmised as the captain stopped before a door.
"May not be our vessels but Plegia spared no coin when it came to quality, I assure ye." The man turned, "This is it."
Robin watched him for another moment before standing in the doorway. The small room had been cleared of every furnishing save a table in the middle where a single candle burned, chair turned towards him invitingly. A small stack of blank paper, inkpot and quill sat in the corner. The wall-window on the other side overlooked the port, but would provide an amazing view of the sunrise once they were underway.
"Sure you don't want any kind of… Bed?" the captain asked, looking over the minimalist room, "Dunno how you and the missus‒"
The door closed an inch from his face and Robin strode to the table, removing his robe and laying it over the chair. He stared, rolling up his sleeves.
Time to earn his pay.
He closed his eyes, motioning laying out an invisible map on the table before him. It was a replica of the one from the command tent, but this one was special. He frowned, eyes closed yet fixed on the first landing site. Hamaoka Coves.
He pinched the corners of the map and spread his hands out, enlarging the miniscule details to a full topography courtesy of the scouting reports he'd devoured over the last week. He tilted the plane of view to see the geography in three dimensions, marking out likely ballista nests.
They would be sailing from the east, combined with the high terrain would mean they'd be spotted hours before making shore. This last minute schedule bump meant they'd have to stall around… He pulled out, marking where ships could feasibly wait before nightfall to ensure they arrived on time…
He decided to finalize the positions later, and dragged the thought off to the side to hang suspended over the table in a bubble.
The coves were marked by caves and cliffs; terrible to attack- worse to defend. Defenders would be easily cut off. Knight's armor was better suited for city fighting, falling into the water here would be a death sentence. Robin pulled the roster of knights from that landing party to suspend elsewhere in the room.
He stood straight, frowning as he brought up a roster of the ships currently in port. Filtered for the two launching within the hour. The Gahzi and the Mamluke. Examined the list of crew. None had vaguely Plegian names. Odd...
He crumpled the list and pulled up a new one of soldiers and numbers. They'd be invading Valm with just under a thousand men across ten ships and three landing sites, now spread across several days. Frankly, the only part of this plan that gave Robin confidence was that fate was on their side. All they had to do was take the beaches, days later reinforcements would push further inland.
One thing at a time. He tossed the collection of data over his shoulder where it hovered behind him, to be seen to later, and turned back to the map.
This port city... Valm Harbor. Surrounded by flat land on all sides. Archers could land south of the port, move up the coast while the main force attacked from within. He reached behind him, bringing the suspended list of knights to hover over the harbor. Their armor would be ideal for the narrow street fighting. When the defenders retreated from the Feroxi soldiers they'd be forced into surrender by the waiting ranks of archers. Possibility of being routed was definite, though somehow he guessed Walhart would be more worried about defending the harbor. The lynchpin in his naval forces. If it fell the war would be contained to his doorstep.
This was where planning became an art, and Robin was the master‒
"He's not to be disturbed!"
The muffled voice came a second before the door was booted open. Robin frowned, idea bubbles struggling to maintain altitude as the distractions and noise poured into his mind. Then the fist on his collar swung him around and his eyes snapped open, mental notes rushing to the ground shattering silently into wisps of air like water drops to a hot frying pan.
His gaze focused on Lucina, a scowl of legendary proportions across her features.
"He is not my lover."
Robin blinked.
"What?"
"Gerome."
"Who?"
"Gerome is not‒" Lucina began to repeat herself before Robin shook his head.
"You interrupted me to talk about your boyfriend?"
"Listen‒"
"No you listen, princess. In seven days I'm going to hold 204 lives in my hands. By the time the full invasion is underway, 1032. Who comes home to their families after that is dependant on me and my ability to plan the invasion."
The entire time he talked he was forcing her backwards, face inches from her own.
"How many Valmese can hang up their swords and return to their old lives, that's on me. How many farmers don't get caught up in this, warlords making power grabs, bands of thieves roaming like dogs ‒ that's on me to mitigate. My ability to make sure we succeed and that as many people can turn their back on this war do so. And maybe those numbers are miniscule to what you've seen, but to me, right now, they are everything. The lives of every soldier, and every life our soldiers affect ‒ that's my responsibility. Now if you please, goodb‒"
He was about to slam the door in her face, a fitting finale to his impromptu monologue, when he heard muffled bells from above and the floor beneath them tilt.
Her eyes widened as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You really committed me to seven days of you so that you could tell me George wasn't your boyfriend," he stated.
"Gerome." She flushed, clearly trying to think of how to justify herself, "And this is as much to keep my father safe-"
"So follow him!"
"As if I'd leave you unattended. Goddess knows what you're doing in…" she finally looked around the barren room, staring, "Here…"
He gestured.
"This? This is what I'm doing for the next seven days. No killing. No plotting. No evil." He put his hand on the door, "No Lucina."
Her boot stopped the door as she frowned past him.
"Where do you sleep?"
"No sleep!"
He kicked her boot out of the way and slammed the door, turning back to his table with a huff. What a short sighted girl. Now he'd spend the next seven days actively ignoring her pine over Geralt and all the makeup sex they weren't having. Gods knew both could do with a lay.
He shook his head. Couldn't be bothered with that now, important stuff to…
Robin looked around the empty floor. The hovering bubbles were gone, images and numbers dissipated into nothing. He couldn't recall the details. Something about… Ballista nests and… Dammit.
"This is why you always save your work…" he sighed, closing his eyes and laying out an invisible map on the table before him.
He formulated strategies, contingencies, fallback options if any one unit defected, reviewed every dossier of every soldier, merc, crew member and squire involved in the coming battles for possible opportunities for sabotage, and invented his own drinking game.
Robin opened his eyes, stretching. The sun beamed in from the window, rising from the horizon like an orb of light designed just to greet him. His stomach rumbled and he smiled at the stack of detailed papers he'd evidently prepared for Chrom's approval. That was the bulk of his workload, the details to be tuned later.
He retrieved his cloak and opened the door, seeing the morning light catch on a leg in the hall. When his eyes adjusted he realized Lucina had slept against his wall. Poorly, by the looks of it. Unwashed hair stuck to her face unflatteringly, but he didn't mind. Sleeping was his preferred dosage of Lucina.
He closed his door so when she woke she might think he was still inside and tiptoed around her, making for the upper deck. The salty air was crisp and cold that morning, and he beamed around the morning crew as they went about their duties.
"Good morning!" he greeted, voice hoarse beyond recognition. He winced, massaging his throat. "Beautiful day out."
A few cast bizarre looks at him and he spotted Chrom beside the helm.
"Ahoy!" His voice cracked. Chrom stared at him.
"Don't say that." Chrom shook his head as Robin neared.
"Why not?"
"Because no one says that."
"Says ye, ya landlubber."
"You finished working?" Chrom gave him a once over, "You look terrible."
"Thanks."
"You sound terrible."
"I thought it was sexy," Robin rasped, grinning at the sound of his new voice.
"That was longer than it usually takes."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I've never planned for three separate invasions simultaneously and invented a new drinking game I need you to playtest please?"
"Maybe later," Chrom replied with a small smile, looking out over the ocean, "So what's it looking like?"
"Generous estimate?" Robin looked out too, massaging his throat again, "... A couple dozen."
"Dozens," Chrom repeated, staring at him.
"Hey, we're invading with like a thousand. I'm doing the best I can, but something's going to happen we can't control. Murphy and all that."
"No," Chrom muttered, shaking his head and putting a hand on Robin's shoulder, "I fear I've been spoiled by your efforts. Of course dozens are a small price to pay for a full scale invasion, especially compared to past wars… It just seems like so many, now."
"I did the best I could," Robin sighed, holding his hand out to see it shake before him, "But some people are going to die, Chrom. And it's not your fault. Their deaths are on war, not you."
"Damn war," Chrom whispered, rising fully and looking out over the ocean again.
Robin said nothing, watching his hand tremors.
"How long was I?"
Chrom glanced over, then looked back to the sunrise. "Three days."
"Three days?!" Robin croaked, both impressed and astounded by his fortitude and Chrom's irresponsibility, respectively.
"Yep."
"'Yep,' like that wasn't dangerous?" Robin felt his cheeks, realizing how gaunt he was, "You let me battle meditate for three days without food, water or sleep. The invasion could have started and you wouldn't have snapped me out of it?!"
"You'd probably have died from dehydration by then."
"I could have died from dehydration and you wouldn't have snapped me out of it?!"
"At what point does self-preservation begin sharing some of my burden of keeping you alive?" Chrom raised an eyebrow indicating he bore no guilt over the matter, "Am I responsible to make sure you're breathing at all times as well?"
"Not anymore you're not!" Robin cleared his throat to no effect, and checked his pulse. "Your negligence as a friend and caretaker aside, where's food? Not that you would have known I'd succumbed to starvation, but I am very hungry and my throat feels like I've swallowed a cactus."
"Bottom deck, check out rations with the quartermaster." Chrom looked him over, "And I would have known if something happened because Lucina has been your personal bouncer the last few days. She's barely left your hall."
"She's been a real wrench in my plans to kill you and make myself king of Ylisse, I'll have you know," Robin yawned, making down the steps.
"Maybe I'll assign her to be your bodyguard. Sorta like Frederick. She's been getting practice."
"I've been getting practice. Last week I was checking my corners before changing out of my smallclothes every night. Is this what life has been like for you, except always?"
Chrom shook his head, smiling.
"You jest, but whenever anyone approached your chambers the last few days, she'd warn them off claiming you were extremely busy and held the lives of countless in your hands. It was pretty cute."
Robin stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him.
"No she didn't."
Chrom shrugged indifference as a pegasus knight arrived from the ship in the distance bearing a message. Robin scoffed, turning from them and continued below deck.
The idea that Lucina could have been in the room with him was discouraging. What if she messed with his plans? Moved a thought bubble somewhere it didn't belong, made him miss something… No, he would have noticed if she was there. Probably. She would have made loud angry noises like she usually did.
Robin thought to himself as he made down the stairs, passing shirtless crew who stared like he was half risen.
Three days. Had he really been out that long? That would explain his thirst, hunger and weariness. It felt like he hadn't slept for about that long. He could use a nap. And if Lucina looked that bad he wondered about his own appearance. The steps swayed under him and he took a breather against a wall, catching his breath and letting his vision steady before continuing. Gods he was tired all of a sudden...
He found the quartermaster, exchanged a humorous quip in reference to a book likely only Robin had read, and devoured his ration. When he asked for more, the quartermaster told him they were rations for a reason. When he explained he hadn't had any for days, the quartermaster asked him to cry more.
"I'm supposed to bring Lord Chrom's breakfast too," Robin tried, switching tactics.
"Then he can come down to get it."
"Hey, if you want to save me a trip, I appreciate it. But when he comes down he's going to be hangry."
The other man frowned, taking another package from a shelf and throwing it to him.
"Cheers," Robin gestured with the package, not even waiting to be out of eyesight before starting in on it.
"Hey!"
It was gone by the time he reached his room, downing his flask and stepping carefully over Lucina's legs again.
She shivered suddenly. Robin paused, frowning at her, almost seeing the fretful dreams of future horrors passing beneath her eyelids. He rolled his eyes, removing his robe to lay it over her shoulders. It reached her ankles and she tucked her chin into the collar, breathing slowing. She was actually quite pleasant this way, when she wasn't yelling or hitting him. She should not do those things more often, and one day he might be in danger of tolerating her.
He opened his door and looked around. Now he understood the confusion. Yeah, a bed or sofa of some kind might have been a good idea. Or the perfectly good cloak he'd just given away.
Robin wrapped his arms around himself and lay under the table. It was almost like a blanket that way. He pondered that for about a second before exhaustion took him.
The moon was high over the starry sky, light catching the dark water that spanned in every direction. The deck of the ship was alit with the candles held before robed priests standing in a circle. Each had an iron ball chained to their ankle.
Long nostrils flared impatiently. Validar folded his arms and looked to his hooded companion, cowl drawn low to hide his face.
"It is time. Get on with it."
"Patience," the visible mouth uttered, raising a hand. "You asked for a powerful edge in this war, and I will grant it."
Validar sniffed and looked to the priests. The hand beside him fell and the center priest drew a dagger, ran it across his own throat, handed it to the man beside him, and walked over the edge of the ship without pause. The second man did the same, passed the dagger and followed the first, disappearing as the third man passed the dagger.
Validar followed the last man to the edge, seeing him vanish with a small splash and any evidence of his existence wiped away as a wave lapped against the side of the vessel.
"The spell is cast, reagents consumed. Make for nearest land as quickly as possible."
"Why should we fear what we summoned?" Validar sneered, looking back to the figure who paused before the bridge.
"Because you asked for something powerful. Not obedient."
Validar stood straighter as the images swirled, darkness of the water masking all light as the vision sunk beneath the rolling waves. The last priest had stopped struggling, arms limp over his head as the iron ball dragged him down, stretching the dark streak of life that trailed to the surface.
Down, past where light failed to reach and the difference between a mile and an inch meant nothing, into the crushing depths that squeezed the lifeless body until bones cracked, the last ball of iron sunk into sand.
The bodies floated, suspended in blackness, as an immense, burning white eye opened before them.
Stifling silence gave way to soft humming as the suffocating pressure turned to dank air a thousand miles away. Still too dark to see, the only light came from a crack under a door ahead, growing closer with the echoing tune.
Heavy bootfalls, as if from a giant, reverberated off stone dungeon walls. The steady rhythm was interrupted by scuffling footsteps.
"I fail to see how a child could manage better than I," a sniveling voice muttered from beside.
"The loss of Valm Harbor is a testament to your failure, one said 'child' predicted with little effort. It's time for change," a deep bass boomed, boots, scrapes and hums breaking the silence that followed.
The door opened before them, blinding light revealing an open field full of flowers basking in warm sunlight. The echoes behind him died as Robin stepped out and looked around.
Pure white, simple petals brushed against his bare feet. He took a deep breath and turned, smiling skyward. Sunny hills and flowers in every direction.
His plain pants and baggy shirt told a tale of a quiet life. No longer burdened by war, or politics, or soldiers or riches or fates. That was all behind him now, he'd done his part.
It was his turn to rest.
"Robin…"
He turned, seeing her some distance away. He smiled, striding towards her. She wore a simple white dress with a flower in her hair. She beamed at him, hands held out for his.
He ignored them and embraced her, nuzzling her, kissing her cheeks. She crinkled her nose in joy and held his face still, deep blue eyes piercing his in a moment of clarity. He understood what she wanted and leaned forward, tilting her chin towards him.
Robin bolted upright, head hitting the table edge and sending him back to the floor with a smack.
He swore, holding his face and staring between his fingers as he felt around clumsily, pushing the chair over in the dark.
Just a dream. A nightmare. A terrible… Awful nightmare he'd never speak of.
The tiniest knock at the door made him arch his back from where he lay, watching the door upside down.
"Is everything alright?"
"No!" he answered, holding his head as her voice brought back the dream, "I-I mean, yes, I'm fine. Go away!"
A pause before the handle turned, door creaking open. A shaft of Lucina's face appeared, illuminated by candlelight.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes!" Robin waved a hand at her, "Go away!"
"You're bleeding," she noticed, door crack widening an inch.
"I'm…" he muttered, rolling over and feeling his head.
Yep, blood. He pressed his sleeve to his temple and stared at her as she stepped into his cabin.
"Anything else, Doctor?"
"I uh…" She opened her mouth, faltering.
He continued to stare, now in confusion. "Uh," wasn't a sound he'd heard from her before. It was a sound normal people used to fill in spaces in their speech, but she was fairly good about choosing her words. Which meant whatever she was about to say wasn't in her usual comfort zone.
"I'm sorry."
A long pause followed. Robin wasn't quite sure how to be sarcastic with apologies, especially when they seemed genuine.
"Watching you work the last three days has been revealing," she began, placing the candle holder on the floor and sitting on her legs. "It's clear you care very much about the lives you spoke of, through the trials you put yourself through… Unorthodox though the manner of your preparations may be. At first I believed you a lazy scoundrel who was simply biding his time at my father's side, but now I can see what you do for the Shepherds. The plans you've written up so far are quite strict in their mitigation of loss of life. They're as admirable as they are..."
She cleared her throat, glancing up to meet his eyes and averting her gaze.
"They're very good plans."
"You're a… Good… Plan," Robin muttered, attempting to sabotage the uncomfortable growing feeling of civility between them.
She frowned for a moment, then shook her head and continued.
"So I apologize for my prior interruption. It was childish of me, and I hope my carelessness did not cost lives."
She took a deep breath. Robin stared, unsure if he was still dreaming and if so, terrified the direction it could take.
"And…" She glanced to him again before reaching for the candle, "That was all, I suppose. I will leave you to your bleeding."
Robin felt his head, remembering the flesh wound, but it seemed to have staunched. She'd almost reached the door when he found his voice again.
"You were in here?"
Lucina stopped and looked back as he pushed himself off the floor.
"I… Eavesdropped when I heard voices," she admitted, "I believed you conversing with someone but…"
He waited as she cleared her throat.
"It was just you. Reciting lyrics from Khan's Fortuna."
"I love that play! Olivia introduced me some time ago and I can't get the songs out of my head."
"Yes... You mentioned that. A couple times, while you were drawing on the table."
Robin looked to the table.
"Without a quill." Lucina glanced over his shoulder, "Or parchment."
"You didn't touch anything while you were in here, right?"
Lucina opened her mouth, looking around to the single table and chair.
"...No."
"You just sat here watching me?"
"I needed to apologize."
"You need a hobby. What do you do for fun?" Robin asked, almost taking interest.
"Nothing."
"I can picture that," Robin grunted, stretching. "What time is it and do you want to go for a walk?"
"It's almost dawn… Are you inviting me?" Lucina asked, taking her turn at being startled.
"I'm guessing you're going to follow me anyway, and this we way we can talk and you seem less-stalkery."
"I am not a stalker."
"Stalker: 'a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention,'" Robin quoted, looking around for his cloak and finding it folded under the table, beside where he'd been resting.
"I-I do not obsess!" Lucina objected, cheeks starting to flush from anger or embarrassment.
"Mkay, Tharja," Robin nodded, donning his cloak with a smile and turning to the door. "You ever hear the story of how your parents ended up together?"
They spent the morning on the main deck, watching the crew work as the sun began to rise behind them, casting a magnificent sunrise over the ocean. They filled the time with stories of Chrom or Olivia, or Chrom and Olivia, or Lucina's favorite subject: the mundane. Her questions varied in depth and breadth but were never in short supply.
"And what happens if children don't attend their classes?"
Which Robin was more than happy to answer. Or make up an answer, if he didn't know.
"Then they run the risk of becoming marginally successful tacticians in the Ylissean military."
"Oh."
… Sometime's she was slow with the follow up.
"That was a joke, I don't know," Robin explained under his breath, clearing his throat with a shrug.
"Oh."
Lucina's mouth twitched after several seconds. The corners of her mouth almost curled into a smile before she straightened her expression.
"Tau-ro-ne-o gained a day!"
They looked over the deck as the first mate shouted in a musical tune, crew heaving rope answering in chorus.
"Carcino oh Carcino, Away Tau-ro-neo!"
"Oh Carcino is a place I know, A-long the plains of Car-ci-no…"
"Why do they sing?"
"Carcin girls ain't got no combs," the first mate continued, distant eyes telling of how much of this had become automated.
"Because when the work sucks," Robin explained, not needing to invent an answer this time,
"Away, Tau-ro-neo!"
"Anything to take your mind off the rest of your life is worth singing about."
"They combs their hair with a kipper back bone,"
"Along the plains of Carcino…" The crew echoed spiritedly, heaving the sails in sync with the rhythm.
"They remind me of the cadences our soldiers must shout when they run," Lucina observed, watching the shirtless men flexing in the sunlight. The wayward eyes on her went unnoticed.
"The skipper likes whisky, the mate likes rum,"
"Away, Tau-ro-neo!"
"The crew likes both but ye can't get none," the first mate sang, striding along the deck with thick rope coils over broad shoulders.
"Along the plains of Carcino…"
Lucina began humming the tune with their chorus. She was off key, but it was a pleasant reminder she wasn't an automaton. Robin didn't mind, turning his gaze to watch the crew as well.
"Times is hard and the wage's low,"
"Away, Tau-ro-neo!"
"It's time for us to roll and go,"
"Along the plains of Carcino…"
The ending chorus rang hollow and Robin followed the gazes of half the crew as something drew their attention from the chores at hand. A few outright dropped their burdens and moved to the side of the ship, pointing out and murmuring to each other.
The first mate's eyes went wide.
"Dreadnought!"
Panic swept through the crew as bustle turned frantic. Lucina looked to Robin in confusion, but he half shook his head, eyes narrowing on the horizon. Dreadnoughts were a fabled military vessel rumored to have been developed by Walhart. Immense behemoths of ships, large enough to plow through the Ghazi and the Mamluke with little effort if they were placed side by side. Highly impractical, but when the mere sight inspired hardened sailors to crap themselves Robin began to see the merit to Shock and Awe.
"Ready the sails!" the captain bellowed, arriving on the scene to inspire more terror, "Prepare to drop supplies if it means escape!"
"Are you going to get ready?" Lucina asked, staring at him.
"No."
"We could be boarded."
"That… Would be quite the feat…" Robin muttered, leaning forward on the rail now with a frown.
Lucina looked to the ship, once more, back to him, and made to leave before he touched her arm.
"Just trust me?"
She scowled, hand on her belt as she hovered near the stairs. Finally she stepped closer, turning her hard gaze to the distant shape as she leaned on the rail beside him.
Minutes later they were a few hundred meters out, and raised voices lowered to uncertain whispers.
The ship was adrift, sails torn from the mast, leaning slightly to one side. It was massive, how it even stayed afloat was a technological marvel. Robin was grateful it wasn't bearing down on them, but almost preferred the devil he knew to the one he didn't.
It was silent. No crew worked the rigs, no lookout, nothing to suggest it hadn't sailed from harbor of its own accord.
Robin felt eyes on him and turned his narrowed gaze to Lucina. They exchanged a look that conveyed mutual "bad feelings about this."
Chrom was discussing something with the captain but meeting was brief. Robin moved down the steps to listen to the tail end of the conversation.
"And Robin will lead the team sweeping the ship."
"Which Robin?" Robin chimed in, certain he'd misheard his name.
"This Robin." Chrom clapped his shoulder.
"This Robin?"
Chrom nodded.
"Does this Robin have extensive nautical expertise I'm unaware of?" Robin asked, cocking his head.
"No, but this Robin doesn't miss details."
Chrom nodded to the others, dismissing them and pulling Robin aside. When everyone else was out of earshot he leaned closer.
"Something happened out here, and I get the feeling it was meant for us… Maybe you'll find something. Take Lucina, she'll recognize the signs of whatever she doesn't wish to talk about, and if it looks like that's whatever happened here, she might be more willing to discuss some possible defenses."
It wasn't a request. Robin hated that part about being friends with a prince. The massive shape loomed ahead and he sighed, wondering why things could never just be simple.