Robin didn't seem like a very materialistic man. It might have been the fact he woke up in a field with little but his name to cling to, or the mountain of other issues he had to sort through. However, there was one item the tactician seemed to be fond of. The coat he work day in and out, through battles and during breakfast, there were few moments when he didn't have the garment with him.
Which lead to Henry doing a double take when he chanced on the coat lying across a log while he took a walk in the early hours of the day. From the banked fire that the logs circled around, the mage figured that Robin had left his coat on his seat the night before.
Henry was fairly certain that the tactician would come back for it later, and made to move on. But after taking a few steps away, he quickly turned on his heel and swiped the coat by the hood. "Leaving it behind would make it too easy to find, nyahaha!"
Holding the coat by the shoulders, he took note of the familiar color palette and the all too recognizable symbols running across the fabric. He hummed and ran a hand over the mark of Grima. "Plegia is it?" If the coat had anything to do with the tactician's origins, it was fair to say that their amnesiac was from the same country as the mage.
"But you can't judge a tome by its runes." As Henry spoke to himself, he slipped on arm into the coat and then the other.
The sleeves were just a over sized as the mage thought they would be, but the inner lining was surprisingly soft. "No wonder Robin lives in this thing."
Taking a moment to button the coat up, he saw that while he wore it he could easily pass for the tactician for the time being. Same pale hair, similar heights and spell casting if the situation called for it.
As he wandered through camp he lightly swung his arms, thoroughly enjoying himself. But all too soon he felt an odd presence, as if he were being tailed. Sensing a figure flit pass in the corner of his eye, Henry flipped aside the coat to retrieve the tome strapped to his side, quickly drawing it and preparing himself to attack.
In the instant he turned he was face to face with Tharja, who seemed to be halfway to wrapping her arms around the mage. Her face first showed confusion, but transformed to anger.
"How dare you impersonate Robin." Practically snarling, she pointed an accusatory finger at Henry.
"Awh, I'm just having a bit of fun." Playfully taking Tharja's finger between his, he waved their linked hands. "No harm, right?"
"Unhand me." Snatching her hand back, Tharja whirled around, the displeasure evident in her every move. However, she moved back toawrds Henry, gripping the coat at the collar. "Give me his coat."
"Finders keepers." Grinning, Henry stuffed his hands in the wide pockets and rocked back on his heels.
"Don't be ridiculous." Shaking the coat she had in her grip, she took a step forward, Henry taking a step back.
With Tharja demanding custody of the tactician's coat and Henry cheerfully denying her request, the pair made their way through camp, their bickering causing more than one curious Shepherd from poking their head out of their tents. Henry had managed to maneuver himself back to the campfire he'd first found the coat, all the while smiling.
Exasperated, Tharja gave a shove, causing Henry to take a larger step back. He lurched back, having caught himself on the end of one of the Tharja still keeping a death grip on the coat they fell, Henry thumping against the ground and Tharja landing on top of him.
By this time Robin had been circling camp, looking for lost garment, but to no avail. However, the shouts he heard drew his attention and he trotted towards the a corner, he walked into a situation he never thought he'd witness. Henry with his coat on and Tharja lying on top of him.
"Morning!" Henry greeted the tactician with a wave, while Tharja looked back in horror.
Robin slowly backed away, unsure of what was happening, but not one to venture to find out. "I don't want to know."
Tharja stammered, trying to clear up whatever the tactician was thinking, removing herself from the mage and leaping back.
"Nyahaha, no need to be shy." Grinning, Henry has a wicked glint in his eye.
Robin could feel his cheeks heating up slightly and quickly excused himself, giving his coat a wistful look before dashing away.
Tharja slowly turned to Henry, her aura nothing short of murderous. "I will kill you."
Henry simply smiled back, completely unphased. "Just don't get blood on the coat, it's Robin's favorite!"
AN: I wrote this in a plane while three children serenaded us with bloodcurdling screams.