I should be working on the next chapter of Visions, but instead I'm posting this. This should be part one of this update, and it's longer than Fellspawn's chapters normally are, so I'm not sure how many more chapters will be in this update.

A/N I think I already addressed this in the intro to the story, but a reviewer asked about it, so I'll reiterate in case it wasn't really clear: Even though this story is about Mama!Robin, not all of the children are hers. Cynthia is Sumia and Chrom's baby because A) I thought it was cute from a found-family perspective, and B) I wanted each of the children to have some connection to their canon mother (Cherche was Gerome's adoptive mother, Cordelia helped raise Severa, Lissa actually was Owain's other mother, etc.). With that in mind, I just thought Cynthia being Chrom and Sumia's daughter worked better than any of the alternatives.

Nah, in this story, is not Robin's child either, nor is Yarne. Nowi is still Nah's mother; Panne is still Yarne's. Being a manakete and a taguel respectively were rather key to those two's backstories and character, so I did not want to take that from them. I couldn't think of a way for Robin to be their mother that wasn't just too absurd or just a repeat of Owain and Noire's stories. Plus, in Nowi's case, (just my opinion here) I find the idea of her being in a sexual relationship with any of the other characters a bit disturbing, so writing Robin/Nowi would be very difficult to me.

Somewhat related to the fact that they weren't Robin's kids, I never got around to writing Nah and Yarne's recruitments. It would have happened eventually, had I kept working on this, but there would not have been a lot of focus on it, given that it would have played out pretty close to canon anyway. That's why those two are mentioned in this, but their recruitment was not shown.

Fellspawn

Chapter Eight

A mirage village? That was certainly interesting, although Robin doubted the wisdom of sending the Shepherds all the way to eastern Ylisse in search of it. They did have a war to fight, after all.

They had found and searched three villages already to no avail, and spirits were low.

"All this sand!" Lissa cried. "How do you stand it, Robin?"

"I am apparently Plegian, Lissa. Maybe it's in my blood!" Robin laughed. It did certainly seem that way. The scratchy sand on her face and the heat of the sun almost made her feel more alive.

"Ugh!" Lissa stomped the ground harshly, stumbling when it gave way beneath her. Robin caught her by the arm. "Thanks," Lissa grumbled.

"The possibility of genetic propagation of such traits is unlikely, though certainly within the realm of possibility. More likely, however, your imperviousness to such arid conditions is symptomatic of a childhood acclimation to harsh desert locales—although that would be nearly impossible to prove, particularly considering your inability to recall your youth. Do you think your skin and eyes are more durable when assailed by sand particles, or is it simply a mental adjustment?" Miriel ended her rant with a question in Robin's direction. Nearly everyone nearby seemed to have tuned the scientist out, but Robin took a minute to sort through her complicated language.

"I'm not sure," Robin said. At Miriel's disappointed exhale, Robin asked, "Does anyone here have a heat rash or scrape or any sort of physical reaction to the sand? Because my skin seems fine, what little of it is uncovered."

This seemed to be the cue for everyone to air their various discomforts, and Miriel's head tilted in her hat as she seemed to catalogue each grumbled complaint.

Chrom chuckled from the head of the convoy. "Now you've started it, Robin." He looked back at her curiously. "How are you not hot in that bulky coat?"

Robin shrugged. "I'm not exactly cold. I just appreciate the heat. Much better than Regna Ferox in the winter." She shivered for effect.

Chrom laughingly agreed. "Hard to hold a sword straight when you're shaking out of your boots."

"Yeah, well, give me a few more hours of this heat, and you'll be fishing me out of my boots," Lissa said miserably. "I'm drowning in my own sweat."

She must have said that last part a bit too loud, since Owain broke away from his conversation with Brady and Severa to jog over to Lissa. "My sainted mother!" he called, and Robin noted wryly that Chrom's palm impacted his own forehead.

Lissa sighed. "Yes, Owain?"

"You need but ask, my queen, and I will do anything for your comfort! Shall I wipe the sweat from your brow?"

Lissa seemed to actually consider it, but she shook her head. "No, thank you, Owain. That's not necessary."

"Could you get a waterskin?" Robin asked him, knowing he wanted to be helpful. She scrutinized Lissa. "Your mother does actually seem a bit lightheaded."

Chrom chuckled. "More than usual?"

Lissa kicked some sand in his direction, inadvertently spraying some into Gregor's face. "Ah! Gregor is working under many harsh conditions, but employer should know that blind Gregor is less swell sword!"

"Sorry, Gregor," Lissa blushed. "Maybe I could use that water," she told Owain.

"Certainly, Mother!" Owain beamed, running to argue the waterskin away from Frederick.

Robin and Lissa both watched him with indulgent smiles. "He's so cute!" Lissa whispered to Robin. "Even though he's… colorful."

Robin returned her proud smile. "He is."

Lissa stared at her for a moment, until Robin tilted her head at the princess curiously. "Lissa?" Lissa seemed to shake herself, then blushed, her eyes dropping to the ground as she started walking faster. "Lissa!" Robin called, speeding up a little to catch her by the arm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Lissa attempted a jazz hands. "It's just the heat!"

Robin wasn't convinced. "Lissa…"

Lissa chewed on her lip, then admitted, her voice low enough that no one but Robin could hear, "I think I'm starting to see what the kids meant when they said that Owain brought us together... in that way." She blushed deeper as she said it.

Robin smiled, relieved that Lissa was opening up to her, and oddly charmed that she had been considering their future relationship. "I was never confused."

"Really?" Lissa's eyes popped. "But you were just as shocked as I was when Owain appeared!"

Robin snorted. "I don't know about 'just as shocked'. My ears are still ringing from your screeching," she teased.

Lissa rolled her eyes and shoved Robin lightly, her soft smile giving her away.

"But I was surprised by the fact that we had a child, yes. I'm not used to the idea of two women being able to conceive. It seems ludicrous. And admittedly, I did not know you were interested in women at all." She glanced at Lissa, whose expression morphed into a mysterious smirk. "But I was never surprised that I would be open to that kind of relationship. You're one of my best friends, Lissa, and I'll never be ashamed of wanting to be closer to you."

Lissa blushed, her expression somewhat vulnerable now. "I…" she shook her head. "I don't really know what to say, Robin."

Robin shrugged.

"You know, you're really sweet," Lissa settled on, hugging her briefly and kissing her on the cheek. From Lissa's right grip, Robin got the feeling she would have tackled her into a much longer hug if they had the time and Lissa had the energy. "And I'd be crying pretty heavily if I weren't so darn dehydrated." Lissa ran a hand over her own face, and she sniffed loudly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're such a big softie. It might ruin your hard-as-nails, badass tactician reputation."

Robin smiled. "Thank you. I would be ever-so-devastated if the truth ever got out."

The conversation died out as loud yelling caught both ladies' attention.

"But it is for my beloved mother!"

"We can't be wasteful with any of this, Owain. If Robin wants some water," Frederick answered, "She can come drink where I can supervise the amount—"

Severa hissed loudly from where she walked beside Brady, and an awkward silence ensued.

Owain cleared his throat. "Mother is Princess Lissa, Sir Frederick."

At Frederick's aghast expression, Chrom chimed in. "Most of Robin's children call her 'Mama', Frederick, if you hadn't noticed."

Frederick cleared his throat roughly. "I hadn't, milord." He recovered quickly. "Princess Lissa is thirsty?"

Severa snapped. "That's what he said! You just haven't been listening because you've got a stick up your ass and instead of just yelling at Mama or going a practice bout with her to get your jealousy out of your system, you're being a passive-aggressive—"

Owain loudly interrupted his sister, whose anger showed clearly on her face even as she let herself be spoken over. "SO! Sir Frederick! Might I bring the waterskin to my poor, parched mother to quench her insidious thirst?"

Frederick handed over the waterskin without a word, and Owain trotted happily back to Robin and Lissa.

Robin was struck dumb as Lissa gratefully took the skin from their son. Were Severa's words true? Frederick was upset with her? One look at Lissa's worried face confirmed it. This was precisely what she had been concerned about. Her future self's actions were undermining the Shepherds' relationships.

"Mama?" Owain asked. "Are you alright?" He placed a hand at Robin's back to guide her over a particularly high sand dune. It was unnecessary, but she took it for what it was: a gesture of emotional support.

"I'm well, Owain," she assured him. "Just disturbed. I hadn't known Frederick was angry with me."

"He's being an idiot!" Lissa fumed. "Owain was an accident—"

Robin gasped inadvertently, and Owain's hand tightened at her back. She knew what Lissa meant, of course, but she would certainly not have put it like that.

At Robin's gasp, Lissa paused, then her eyes widened and she stopped walking, waving her hands wildly. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that we didn't mean to have a child at that moment! You were a surprise, but you're a good surprise!"

Owain smiled a little weakly. "I understand, Mother."

"But you know I love you, right? So, so much." The tiny blonde hugged Owain fiercely, and his smile became that much more real as he tweaked her hair fondly. Robin smiled at the lovely picture the two made.

When the two separated, all three jogged to catch up to the rest of the party. "So," Robin prompted. "Frederick is being an idiot?"

"Yes!" Lissa cried. "The kids have sworn over and over that you and I were not in any kind of sexual relationship when Owain was born, and that I was with Frederick. But he can't possibly blame you for that, except he does because he did." She sighed. "I think he's mad at himself, too."

Robin's brow furrowed. "Why would he be mad at himself?"

Lissa explained, "The kids say that we never explicitly told them, so they're not sure, but they suspect the reason Frederick left when Owain was small was because Owain came along, and he wasn't Frederick's. So you and I ended up in a relationship because we needed support and we were there for one another."

It dawned on her. "He's mad at his future self because he left you in your time of need."

Lissa nodded morosely.

"But you're not mad at him?" Robin asked.

Lissa shook her head. "I'm not so sure that's what happened at all. I just can't see him leaving like that, you know? We've split up a lot, but he's always been so dedicated. I don't think he'd turn his back on me. But Frederick believes it because he's so angry at you now, he can fully imagine that he might have been overwhelmed enough to do something like that."

Whatever Owain's opinion was, he didn't share it, merely casting a contemplative eye over to Frederick.

"Do you think I should talk to him?" she asked Lissa. "Clear the air?"

Lissa sighed gustily. "It's worth a try."

Robin started turning over a few potential plans of attack in her head.

The glare of the sun suddenly intensified, and a wind kicked up some sand around them. There were various cries of distress from their company, but it was quickly realized that the light was glinting off wyvern scales, and the wind was from Minerva's powerful wings as she landed. As some of the sand began to settle, Chrom called out a greeting to Gerome, who acknowledged it with a stoic nod. "There is a village in the distance, Lord Chrom, not far to the northeast. You need only correct your course a few degrees north."

"Thank you, Gerome." Chrom breathed a sigh of relief. "Last one, men. The end is in sight." Cheers followed his declaration.

"Follow Minerva," Gerome advised, then nudged Minerva into flight, kicking up yet another dust storm. Soon, the wyvern was high enough she appeared the size of a condor, her snout pointing the way to the village.

Robin looked at her companions, offering Lissa and Owain both her arms. "Shall we?"

Lissa took the proffered arm, then giggled when Owain took the other with a demure flutter of his eyelashes. Whatever else could be said about their son, he had a distinct flair for the dramatic.

"If Grima hadn't torn your world apart," Robin began delicately. "Do you think you might have gone into theater, Owain?"

His expression wistful, he told them, "I don't know. When we were really little, before all this, Cynthia, Gerome and I made up this little group." With a furtive look around to see if anyone was watching, he reached a hand out dramatically. "The Justice Cabal, it was named!" He relaxed the stance, his voice lowering again. "We acted out stories that we made up about heroes we wanted to emulate. It was fun," he insisted, rubbing his wrist, embarrassed.

Lissa and Robin shared another Aw, isn't he cute glance, then Lissa blinked. "Wait, did you say Gerome?"

Owain chuckled. "Yeah. The stoic figure, though now cloaked in darkness of his own making, once strode in the light with his fellow scions of legend!" He laughed again. "Can you believe it?"

Lissa shook her head. "I can't imagine!"

Robin smirked. "I can. He seems like such a softie. And have you seen the way he looks at Cynthia?"

Owain offered her a conspiratorial glance, but Lissa just gaped at her, bug-eyed. "Gerome and Cynthia? She's such a bundle of energy and he's so… stoic."

Robin nudged Lissa with a laugh. "Sounds like you and our favorite Sir Knight."

Lissa blushed, and Owain just laughed, fixing Robin and Lissa with a strange, awed look that she had seen on Severa's face.

"What is it?" Robin asked him.

"You two. The light of friendship shines brightly between you, and Mother blushes fairly as you tease her about her young love, yet the two of you share a child! Is it not strange and delightful?" he exclaimed.

Lissa and Robin traded glances. "I guess it's a little weird," Lissa admitted. "But we're friends. We were friends before whatever happened, and I'm sure we'll be friends after!"

Robin nodded sedately, a part of her feeling warm.

They were forced to split up when they found hostile bandits around the mirage village. Robin was somehow separated from Lissa and Owain, and found herself back to back with Miriel, whose mare, although not being ridden, nevertheless fought bravely, rearing back and clobbering bandits with her powerful hooves. With Robin attacking with her sword and Miriel covering her with Elfire and Elwind, they quickly cleared the area of enemies. They took the opportunity to look around a bit.

"Do you think the Goddess Staff could be around here somewhere?" Robin asked her companion idly.

"Potentially," Miriel replied, cleaning her glasses of sand. "Of course, there is always the possibility that the rumors of a Goddess Staff in this locale were ultimately baseless, but it would not be productive to proceed under such an assumption, as it would by necessity preclude us from accomplishing our assigned goal. Nevertheless, I remain skeptical."

"Hmm." Robin poked around, wading through sand to enter one of the houses.

A deep, somewhat scholarly voice filtered through her ears from deeper in the house. "By all appearances, the village is abandoned. Yet the houses seem well-kept. Curious, indeed. 'Tis unfortunate, however, that there is no indication of the Goddess Staff."

"It seems we have a fellow searcher," Robin whispered to Miriel. And he speaks like an encyclopedia. Well, he'll be in good company.

"Indeed," she replied quietly.

They followed a short hallway into a dining room, where they discovered a slim man with auburn hair, of a height with Miriel, dressed in long robes and a familiar, worn hat. Robin examined him with a critical eye, wondering if his resemblance to Miriel was mere coincidence or if the mage had a future son.

"Oh," the man said, adjusting his narrow glasses. "Miriel, how fortuitous. I found you."

Well, either Miriel had a son, or she had a very dedicated fan with a penchant for imitation. "You were looking for Miriel?" Robin repeated.

"Clearly," the man answered without so much as a glance in her direction. Robin inhaled through her nose and breathed out through her mouth, practicing the breaths the palace healers had taught her and Sumia in preparation for 'Sumia's' childbirth. Knowing Miriel, and assuming her apparent son had similar deficiencies, she decided not to hold the slight against him, as it was likely unintentional.

"Curious," Miriel mused. "I have no recollection of making your acquaintance. Though few things are as unreliable as human memory."

"Ah, forgive me," the man said with something resembling a sheepish grin. It seemed he was more prone to typical expressive body language than his presumed mother. "I forgot that you have not met me before."

How could he possibly have forgotten that? Robin thought incredulously. Has the heat gone to his head?

The man continued, "My name is Laurent. Are you here in search of the mirage village?"

Wryly, Robin commented, "This place is rather difficult to stumble upon accidentally."

"I've found some things in this world defy probability." Robin's eyebrows shot up. He and Miriel might share many things, but apparently they had some wildly differing beliefs.

Miriel seemed to agree with Robin's observation. "Interesting. I have found most such outliers are merely the product of human error involved in parameter definition. Can you provide elucidation? Examples, perhaps?"

"Maybe you two could discuss this later?" Robin interjected. "We do have a mission, after all."

Laurent finally glanced at her. "As do I, admittedly, though I hadn't expected my efforts to yield such progress. I had thought, given the lack of evidence, that the existence of this mirage village was baseless rumor alone."

Though she had voiced similar doubts earlier, Miriel chided, "An assumption on your part, that."

Laurent accepted the criticism with a nod and a slight grimace. "Might I accompany you in your search? I feel certain that your help will lay exposed that which has eluded me alone."

His words held a bit of emotional justification that Robin thought was inconsistent with Miriel's typical reasoning. Perhaps their resemblance was mostly superficial. In a way, he seemed a much more social creature than she was, seeking not only assistance from others, but also approval from Miriel herself.

"Mmm. I worry your hypothesis lacks a certain scientific rigor … And yet, there exists the possibility I am in error on this count… So...yes. You are welcome to join us," Miriel conceded.

Robin clapped her gloved hands together. "Well, now that that's decided, where have you already searched?"

One tedious search, one lengthy chat with a mysterious elder, and one pounding headache later, Robin found herself in possession of the elusive Goddess Staff, contemplating where it should remain for the journey back to civilization. They had brought no supply wagon, just the equipment they and their horses could carry. Perhaps she could lay it across the back of Frederick's horse? Then again, in his current pique, using his warhorse as a pack mule would not serve to endear her to him. She supposed she could foist it onto Miriel under the guise of research. Miriel had her own horse to carry it, and she would certainly not be averse to studying it. That decided, Robin began to seek her out.

"Ah, Lady Tactician," Miriel broke off her conversation with Laurent when the tactician approached her, carrying the Goddess Staff. "Have you come to request that the newly-acquired instrument of healing remain in my possession for the duration of the lengthy tromp back to our encampment?"

Robin tilted her head, a little embarrassed but mostly curious. "Am I so transparent?"

"Not at all," Miriel replied, her glasses flashing in the sun. "It is simply logical. Although you possess an extraordinary amount of stamina for a woman of your age and build, you are not particularly suited to labors of strength over extended distances the way a bulky individual such as Frederick, for example, might be. Thus, you would seek assistance. I myself am not inclined to such rigors, either, but I am by contrast in possession of a horse, which lightens the load on my person considerably, and thus makes me an ideal candidate for consideration, especially given that my scientific fascination with the staff would render me more interested in having it in my possession for a period of time, however brief. Although I had thought it more likely that you would approach Frederick for assistance in this matter, as you and I are not quite so well acquainted, and he is more traditionally prone to shouldering such a task. How curious."

"He is rather displeased with me at the moment," Robin offered in explanation when Miriel looked to her for an answer.

"I see. The outlier was of an interpersonal nature. It had not occurred to me to consider such an explanation." Robin was not the best at reading Miriel, admittedly, but the woman seemed slightly galled.

Laurent smirked. "Yet you considered yourself unlikely to be chosen based on the dearth of amity between you and the tactician. Curious that you would consider one but not the other."

"Quite," Miriel noted with displeasure. "It seems my familiarity with the interconnectedness of human emotion and logical processes still requires some cultivation."

Robin really did not want to be roped into a discussion about Miriel's social skills. To be blunt, there was not enough time in her day. "Right…." she began. "So, would you be amenable to carrying the Goddess Staff?" Oh gods, their loquaciousness was catching.

"Very well." Miriel accepted the staff from her, tying it securely to her horse.

"Thank you, Miriel," she said with relief.

"Not at all. Like I explained, my acceptance is in no small part self-serving."

"Still, it benefits me, as well, so thank you," Robin attempted a retreat before Miriel could start up again, but she had not gone very far before she heard Laurent's gasped, "Father?" She followed his gaze across the encampment to a very confused Gregor.

"Eh?" Gregor said, walking over to the three of them. "Is boy calling Gregor father? Gregor is old enough to be, but generally very careful with romance, not likely to have left woman with child."

Laurent adjusted his glasses. "Forgive me. It is more accurate to say that you are in fact a version of my father. I am displaced in time."

"Ah, you are future child! Very good!" Gregor clapped a hand on Laurent's shoulder. "What is name? Good, strong name, surely!"

"Laurent," the 'boy' said, smiling. Though Gregor called him such, he was perhaps the only one in the company, save Nowi or maybe Libra or Frederick, who could consider Laurent a boy. He appeared older than Robin, though only by a few years.

"Very good, very good. Is nice to be meeting you! Have you found mother yet?"

"Not yet," Laurent said, although he seemed disinterested in the subject.

Robin blinked as her theory went up in smoke. How strange, then, that he resembled Miriel so when she was not his mother.

"Is no matter. All the time in world! Well, till Gregor's contract run out and is forced to be finding new employment. But Prince assure Gregor that will not be for long time! Must win war first, yes?"

Laurent's eyebrows went up. "You planned to leave? I never knew."

"Not for long time, Gregor saying! Many friends here," Gregor reassured him, then turned his attention to the two ladies. "Miriel, Robin! Look at Gregor's son! Very strong, very brave! Was fighting, yes? Gregor saw with lovely ladies earlier, roasting bandits."

Robin nodded. "Your son fought well." She was not lying; his assistance had been invaluable.

"Indeed," Miriel added, "Though his technique could use some refinement."

Robin looked to Laurent to see how he took that criticism, but the man seemed not to have heard Miriel at all. Instead, he was staring at Robin, a little paler. "Robin? Your name is Robin?"

Robin nodded warily. "Yes. I'm the Shepherd's tactician."

"My apologies, Father. It seems I was mistaken. I have found my mother." Though he spoke to Gregor, his eyes never left her body, as if he was memorizing her appearance.

Robin blinked, not having expected that. "Why did you not recognize me? All of my other children knew me on sight." She winced a little, her words having come out more accusing than she meant them to be.

Laurent shrugged. "I was almost a babe when you vanished. My childhood was spent under the supervision of Father and his wife."

Now she was even more confused. "But you're older than Lucina, and she remembers me perfectly!"

"Lucy is here?" Laurent asked with no small measure of excitement, then seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat. "That is to say, you have encountered the princess?"

Gregor laughed heartily. "Is boy having crush on princess? Good for you!"

Robin's eyebrows rose in alarm, although she was somewhat relieved to see a similar expression take over Laurent's face along with a blush. "No, nothing of the sort!" Laurent exclaimed. "She was… is…" With a cautious glance at Miriel and Gregor, he cleared his throat. "Like a big sister to me."

"Ah, Gregor is not judging," Gregor said dismissively. "Heart wants what heart wants, Gregor always say."

Laurent let out a huff of sheer frustration. "I am not in love with Princess Lucina!"

His outburst was spectacularly ill-timed, as both Chrom and the blue-haired princess herself walked out of one of the village's houses at that exact moment, and the princess turned red as a tomato, while Chrom merely seemed confused.

Gregor eagerly waved them over. "Come! Prince, meet boy!" The two royals approached their group, Chrom taking one look at Robin's laughingly bewildered face and letting out a long-suffering sigh.

"Salutations, Prince Chrom," Miriel offered idly, examining the Goddess Staff as they talked.

While Chrom returned Miriel's greeting, Lucina cleared her throat awkwardly, looking Laurent over but showing no signs of recognition, to Robin's further consternation. "So who is this, Sir Gregor?"

"Bah, no 'sir'! Gregor is sellsword, not knight! Need no title but own name!"

The small, amused crinkle at the corner of Lucina's eyes made Robin think that however vociferously Gregor might protest now, his lack of title might change in the future.

"Is Gregor's son! Gregor very proud!" Truly, it was a little endearing, how proud he seemed of their son, showing him off to everyone. She looked to see Laurent's reaction to his father's praise, but Laurent was looking both a little nervous and a little dismayed as he took in Lucina's lack of reaction.

Though, when Gregor's words sunk in, the princess reacted rather explosively. "Laurent?" she exclaimed, shock coloring her voice. "Little Laurent?" Little? He's taller than her!

Laurent blushed. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Lucina."

She placed a hand on his forearm and stared up at him. "How did this happen? How are you so grown-up?"

"It seems that Naga's calculations were somewhat incomplete. The ritual somehow displaced each of us, not only in relative location, but in relative time."

Lucina chuckled lightly. "Definitely Laurent," she said fondly. "What does that mean?"

Laurent cleared his throat. "I've been here roughly a decade."

All the breath left Robin with a whoosh, and her companions showed similar signs of shock, Lucina even letting out a ragged cry of dismay. "You've been alone here for a decade?"

Chrom's voice was nearly a mutter. "Gods, Lissa was ten."

"So was Laurent!" Lucina choked out.

Huh. Apparently Laurent was only Lissa's age, not older than Robin herself, as she had assumed. The analytical part of Robin noted that she had been in something of a state of shock since Laurent announced he was her son. Still, the despair was starting to filter through, tears slipping into her eyes. Her children, all left to another Shepherd's care; the twins, left to Grima; and now Laurent, abandoned in a time and place so unfamiliar to him. Had she failed all her children?

Pulling her hood up, Robin backed up, leaving Lucina and the rest to fuss over Laurent. He appeared to have no need for her in his life. Miriel, or whoever Gregor's wife had been, it seemed, had been far more of a mother to him than she.

Turning quickly, she ducked into one of the abandoned huts, falling to her knees in a musty bedroom, letting silent sobs wrack her body.

She had been taken in by Severa, Owain, and Lucina's easy affection for her, and the twins' unwavering devotion. Sure, she had some tension with Gerome, but she had considered it nothing that dedicated work could not break through. But this… Gods, her child did not even know her. Barely cared. What if her remaining children were younger than he had been? They would not have remembered her, either.

How could she possibly try to make up for this? For abandoning her children.

A hand at her back startled her into jumping like a rabbit. She had not noticed someone enter behind her. Through her freely-flowing tears, she caught sight of a butterfly mask and a familiar head of white hair. "Gerome?" She tried to compose her voice and wipe away her tears, but Gerome caught her hand before it reached her face.

"You need not posture—not for me." This only sent her into further tears, and Gerome pulled her into a hug with a sigh, his hand rubbing soft circles on her back. "For a capable tactician, you're such a silly girl. I saw what happened, though I could only hear so much. I assume Laurent upset you?"

"He doesn't even know me, Gerome. Doesn't care. I left him alone as a baby, and he wandered the desert for years."

"He's never blamed you. Not really."

"But he feels no affinity for me, either. And why should he? Why should any of you? Gods, I was a terrible mother."

His hand clenched at her back. "Don't ever say that," he warned.

"It's true! I gave myself over to Grima, and my children paid for it in blood! How can I ever atone for that?" she asked him desperately.

"Mama never spent as much time with me as Mother and Father," he confided slowly. "I missed her even as I was content with my life. But never did I doubt her love, for I could see it shining in her eyes every time she visited. My siblings lived with her longer, but I know they experienced much the same." Fiercely, he said, "She was a remarkable woman who made a fatal mistake, but she was never a bad mother. I would not have you slander her."

Robin sniffed, shaking her head, not in denial, but in confusion. "Why are you helping me? You've never seen me as your mother."

Gerome chewed on his answer for a minute, still rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. "I know I have denied you since arriving in this past, but you should not mistake my hesitation for apathy, or for hatred." He sighed. "You are simply not her. And you should not take that burden upon yourself," he added. "Love us if you must, for I know you do, but you cannot possibly live in the shadow of a woman you never met. Her mistakes are not yours, nor her triumphs."

Robin sighed. It hurt, but… maybe she needed to hear it. She had spent months agonizing over her future self's decisions, lambasting herself for things she had yet to do, wondering how she could possibly shape up. Right now, she was doing the best she could with what she had.

"Perhaps I was wrong," Gerome mused. Robin pulled back slightly, curiously, her tears somewhat slowed by now. In answer to her unspoken question, Gerome explained. "To push you away as I have. You are not my mother, but you are family, of a sort, and it's clear you need support now more than ever. I'm sorry," he finished. "I will be better."

"I, as well," Robin sniffed, pulling back enough to look into his eyes and run her hands through his hair gently. "I've been acting as if your view of me is something to overcome, a belief I can change if only I try hard enough. Instead of listening to your words, I just let myself be hurt by your attitude. I'm sorry. I'll try to stop comparing myself to her so much."

Gerome nodded, wiping her remaining tears from her eyes. "Now compose yourself. It'll nearly be time to leave, I'm sure, and the Shepherds mustn't see you acting a scared little girl."

"Was he the youngest?" Robin burst out as he turned to leave. Will I have to face another child who will not recognize me? she was really asking.

"Other than the twins?" Gerome asked, tilting his head back in time to see her nod. "Yes."