The World of Dragons

by Galliar

Five years ago, the worlds were brought together as one. Kingdoms were remade, the seas grew larger, and the world became more diverse than anyone could comprehend. Some worlds were lost, and only their inhabitants remained. Dreamland is one such lost world, but its King and its greatest Knight refuse to stop looking.

8. Smashing Praise

It's been a while hasn't it? Sorry about that. This chapter didn't want me to write it.

Wanted to mention real quick that there have been some small edits to chapters 1-4 and to chapter 7, mostly for consistency and grammar. Any changes were documented in the author's notes at the end of any given chapter. The most important change happened in chapter two, so take a peak at the notes there real quick before continuing on.

Chapter 7 ended in a somewhat difficult place to start a chapter from, something I hadn't realized at the time. It took a while, but I did think of something that I thought would only take one chapter. That didn't go well, so now this is a sort of two-parter situation. Kind of. You'll see.

---

Chapter 8: Smashing Praise

"Of course I'm putting money on Marth," the Khan had declared. His voice probably would have carried through the stands if the Feroxi weren't cheering so loudly. "If he loses, I'm going home way poorer tonight anyway. Might as well double up."

Neither of the swordsman that stood beside the Khan had answered. Roland didn't dare to answer, less he say the wrong thing. Neither of the other two had been especially happy when he refused to make a wager, but he could live with that. Mostly because neither he nor Marth could afford to lose the money. From his short time around the other swordsman, Lon'qu, he gathered that the man just didn't feel like answering. Roland thought that was a bit strange, since he did make the bet with the Khan in the first place.

The Khan was a large man, and proud of it, if his choice to go without a shirt was anything to go by. Despite his middling age, the man was still built well enough to make a man in his prime envious. Not Roland, of course, he had just the body type he needed to have. He worked hard to keep himself slim and nimble. He guessed that Lon'qu felt relatively the same, if he even thought about it at all.

The Arena was far below the booth they watched from. Roland could see everything in the arena. He had watched curiously as the Feroxi people had clambered into the stands, their energy carrying through the air into him. He had grown so used to fighting being a necessity that he found the crowds enthusiasm uncomfortable. They thought two people were stepping into that arena to kill each other. Roland knew Marth better than that. She would never waste another person's life so willingly, especially not Chrom's. Or maybe that sentimentality was just him projecting.

The swords clashed again, the steel sparking as Chrom parried a low blow from Marth. The crowd rejoiced, as both combatants grew more determined and more daring.

"Chrom is a good swordsman," Lon'qu said.

"Yeah he is. He'd have to be. I can't believe Flavia got a Prince to fight for her. Marth's good, but there's no way he could be as well trained," Basilio complained. Roland chuckled alone to a joke no one else could get. He hissed, as the movement reminded him of the cut on his cheek. He regretted not finding a healer before taking his seat.

Lon'qu's frown deepened into an angrier alternative of his normal, resting frown. Roland knew this because he was having trouble watch the fight. With his mask on, a red mask in the shape of the butterfly, it was easy to look away from the battle without catching anyone's attention. He had been watching the crowd, and the two sharing the booth with him. From a glance to the opposite booth, Roland could see the other Khan leaning on the edge of her booth. The larger person that was with her, Dedede if he remembered right, was doing enough sitting for both of them.

Roland himself was seated in the Khan of the West's booth, a privilege only afforded to him because Marth had bested Lon'qu and Roland himself so handily. He had been against the idea from the start, but Marth had insisted. He had never been good at telling Marth no. He did hope the cut wouldn't scar, though.

Roland lost himself in his thoughts, so when the crowd next shrieked in excitement he nearly jumped from his seat. He blinked once as he shifted his view back to the Arena, though he couldn't say he was surprised at the outcome. Chrom had Marth pinned to ground at his Falchion's point.

"Damn it," Basilio groaned, falling deep into his seat. "I had a feeling in my gut this would be her year."

Lon'qu chuckled, a lonely noise, before he reached out a hand towards the Khan. With a few colorfully worded grumbles, Basilio pulled a few golden coins from his pocket and slapped them into the swordsman's hand.

"You're lucky, kid, you didn't..." Basilio trailed off, as the space beside him was empty. Roland was gone. "Bah, whatever. I've got good enough company already, don't I Lon'qu?"

Lon'qu grunted. "Not for long."

Basilio sighed. "I meant me."

---

"Ah! It feels so good to be in charge again!" Khan Flavia grinned.

Chrom was surprised to find Flavia waiting for him in the wings when he exited the pit. He was especially surprised when she nearly tackled his exhausted carcass to the ground in jubilation. He wasn't really sure how she had even managed to get there so fast, considering he had made to leave the pit as soon as Marth was back on his feet. None of the Shepherds were with the Khan either. However she had managed it, he decided it wasn't worth asking about. He was tired and bruised, something she certainly had done nothing to help remedy.

"Congratulations on your glorious victory as well, Prince Chrom," she added gratefully, giving him a hard clap on the shoulder. He hissed in pain at the impact. "Naga herself must've been looking out for me, sending you up here. That oaf will remember this loss for years to come."

As he rubbed his sore shoulder, Chrom frowned at the implication of what the Khan said. "He won't hold it against me right? This other Khan?"

"Who? The Western oaf?" Flavia shrugged dismissively. "Who cares? I'm in charge of Regna Ferox. And as I promised, once things get messy on the wrong side of the Longfort you can rest easy knowing that Regna Ferox stands with you."

Chrom let out a single earnest laugh. "I'm grateful to hear it, Flavia." An errant question struck him about business that wasn't quite his. He asked anyway. "Will Dedede also be getting the materials he asked for?"

The question gave Flavia pause. After a moment's consideration, she sighed. "Iron and most metals should be fine, although copper isn't very common outside of the West. I'll need... Ugh, I'll need the other Khan to get in touch with the people who'd know about that. So, maybe. Probably not too soon, though. Damn, guess I should talk to him too, then."

Chrom nodded. He hadn't really understood what Meta Knight needed the copper specifically for, he'd always known iron and steel to be better in any and every scenario.

"Cmon, Chrom, that's a problem for tomorrow. You won! You'll be a hero throughout Eastern Ferox! Go and find your men, we need to celebrate!" And with an exuberant cheer, Flavia left Chrom alone below the stands. Nothing about this trip had gone quite as he'd expected, but for once the reality seemed the tiniest bit better than his hopes. Chrom only gave himself a moment to enjoy the thought before realization struck him.

"Wait, Flavia!" There wasn't an answer. And she had left him alone in a place he wasn't familiar with. Chrom took a deep breath, and stepped out into the halls around the pit. Halls that were filled to burst with Feroxi. He couldn't see any sign of Flavia. "Oh no."

He didn't know his way around the Arena, he had to be led out of the East Wing to his gate. A glance around told him that she didn't even leave Raimi nearby to escort him to the East Wing.

Chrom bit down on his tongue to keep his misfortune to himself. No one had noticed the champion in the hall by the time he moved away from the door. He couldn't afford to keep his head low, lest he missed a landmark. He chose to move quickly instead, hoping he'd happen upon his way back.

He'd vaguely remembered a flight of stairs, so he took the first one he saw. It brought him to an upper floor, squished beneath the highest stands of the arena. It was largely less crowded than the floor below, though the thinner hall and lower ceiling made it feel jaunt as claustrophobic. Kiosks had been dug out the walls of the arena, where merchants peddled their goods, mostly drinks and snacks. One man that Chrom saw was proudly selling battle axes to anyone willing at sale price. Something about that seemed unsafe.

It was in this hall that someone finally recognized Chrom. The Prince stood out too much in the crowd of furs, or lack thereof. On a logically level, he knew he had been aware of this the second he stepped away from the pit. An optimistic part of him had hoped that the first person he talked to was someone he knew.

"Hey, champ!" A boisterous voice called, and a sharp slap hit his still sore shoulder, somehow even harder than Flavia's supposedly amiable slap. Chrom flinched, and his hand was reaching for Falchion when the stranger spoke again. "That was some impressive fighting out there. I coulda sworn I'd picked the better man."

Chrom's mouth hung open when he turned around to face the newcomer. A tall, muscular man with dark skin and no hair - but for a spat of black hair against his chin - stood beside him with a grin on his face. He wore no shirt, only his breaches and a feathered collar connected to his gold-colored leather shoulder pads. A patch covered one of his eyes.

"Uh..." Chrom uttered. "Do I know you?"

"I'm the West-Khan you so rudely removed from power! Name's Khan Basilio," the giant man said. A circle formed around the two men, hoping to see how the conversation would go. Whispers echoed through the crowd, questions of 'is that the champion' and 'what's the Khan of the west doing here?' From the looks he was getting, Chrom gathered that they were hoping for another fight.

"My apologies, Khan," Chrom offered. "But I needed to be sure that the Feroxi had Ylisse's back if war comes."

"Save it, Prince. I'll live," Basilio waved off. Chrom's breaths lightened. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been. And he'd known he was tense. The crowd seemed disturbingly disappointed by the Khan's reassurance. Out of the corner of his eye, Chrom saw one man pointing his thumbs downward. This all seemed lost on Basilio, so Chrom paid the crowd little mind

"That's a relief," Chrom admitted. Basilio flashed his teeth, though their shine was lackluster.

"These power shifts happens all the time in Regna Ferox, and only the desperate fight against the result," Basilio explained. "If the Khans started a war every time they lost the tourney, the country would've fallen apart long before I was born."

Chrom nodded. That made sense.

"Where were you heading, anyway?" Basilio asked.

"I was hoping to find my men. Flavia has invited us to-"

"Celebrate, right? Bah, she'll find any excuse," The Khan scoffed. "I suppose I should leave you to it. Congratulations on your win, and on your alliance, Prince. I'll..." A man stepped out of the crowd, which had mostly lost interest in the conversation since they realized it wouldn't turn into a fight. The man cleared his throat loudly. Basilio snapped his fingers. "Ah, almost forgot. Actually, I had a gift for you."

The man who stepped forward had hard features. His brown hair was decently kept, and no hair straddled his face. A thin curved sword hung on his belt.

"This is Lon'qu, my former champion," the Khan introduced. The man's frown deepened, but the Khan paid his displeasure no heed. "If you ask me, he's just as good a fighter as Marth. I've still got no idea how he was bested so quickly." The frown deepened further. "Consider him Western Ferox's contribution to the cause."

Chrom nodded slightly, curious about the man. "And he is okay with this?"

Lon'qu voice was deep, giving off no air of friendliness in its gruff state. "He gives the orders, and I stab people. I think our roles are clear."

"Right. Thank you, Basilio, Lon'qu," Chrom responded respectfully. "Before we part, could I ask what you know of Marth?"

Khan scoffed. "He's a sell sword filled with delusions of grandeur. Him and his friend with the red hair showed up one day. In a three way fight, Marth happened to be the one still standing at the end of it. Doesn't much matter now since he lost to you. The both of them have disappeared as soon as the fight was over."

"A pity. I'd hoped to talk to them."

Khan Basilio smiled. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, kid. Whatever you needed to ask them, the chance is gone. You'd be better off worrying about being stuck with Flavia while she's celebrating the whole night. Speaking of worries, I've got some staff that I need to let go now that I'm not in charge."

The Khan departed with a wave, leaving Chrom and Lon'qu alone in the crowd. They could still see the giant of a man poking out from above the rest of the crowd until he took a corner. Chrom turned to Lon'qu, still hoping to size up the man. After a moment, he realized they had both been quiet since Basilio departed.

"So..." Chrom trailed off. "I have to find the rest of the Shepherds. Perhaps you could help me find my way around?"

Lon'qu's scowl didn't shift, but a sharp nod told Chrom that the man was cooperating.

"Good. Any ideas where to start?" The Prince asked sheepishly. Lon'qu sighed.

"The stands," he suggest plainly. He brushed past Chrom, and started to make his way through the crowd. Hoping not to get lost anymore than he already was, Chrom followed after him.

---

Robin had been on his way out of the stands when Dedede grabbed him and told him the Khan was celebrating. The tactician had been told to head to the Eastern Wing immediately, and bring along anyone he found. The king had been gone before the instructions could be properly processed. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before a Feroxi man pushed past him to get by. Well, it was really the second shove that got him moving. Or was it Pikachu, whose paws dug into his shoulder, and whose glares and threats failed to deflect the ignorant crowd?

Evidentially, he hadn't found anyone on the way. The Shepherds had been spread throughout the crowd as extra muscle on Flavia's suggestion. He had helped determine the locations a small bit, but he didn't know for sure where they would be now. He blamed the short deadline for the poor detailing of the plan. He only had a good few hours before Chrom was in the pit from the time that they arrived in the city.

Robin couldn't help but think that the Shepherds luck had been impeccable. They were lucky enough to arrive in time for the tournament, and lucky enough that Flavia seemed to lack any champion at all to represent her. What in Naga's name had been her plan before the Shepherds showed up?!

He remembered the way back to the East Wing easily enough, though navigating the crowd had him moving slowly. The Wing was connected through a guarded door. Shepherd luck hadn't diminished any since Chrom's victory, as Robin found that he knew the guard.

"Hey, Raimi," Robin greeted. The woman gave a respectful nod in response.

"Shepherd Tactician. What business do you have in the East Wing?"

"I have a..." Robin sighed. "Nevermind. Flavia has invited the Shepherds and Dedede to join her. She's the reigning Khan now," Robin said. An embarrassed smile broke onto his face. "That, and Pikachu had been getting antsy with so many people around."

The mouse was still enough to be a statue, but for his heavy breathing and his wandering eyes. The only person he didn't seem to feel threatened by was Robin himself. The uneasy glance that Pikachu gave Raimi was actually a step up from the death he was glaring upon everyone else they had passed.

"Pi..." He muttered. Raimi paid the mouse no mind.

"Aye, I have heard that Chrom was victorious. You're not the first Shepherd to pass through here," Raimi answered. Robin raised a brow that Raimi didn't seem to pick up on. "May it last a little longer than last time." With her ominously mumbled wish, Raimi stepped aside with a gesture towards the door. Robin thanked the woman and passed through the door.

The East Wing appeared rather empty at that late hour. He could remember how to get to the meeting hall, as well as how to find the quarters that the other Shepherds had occupied during the first meeting with Flavia. Besides that, though, Raimi had proven an ineffective guide. Even now, she had left him without instructions of where to go. The meeting hall had been empty, so he dared to try his luck at the quarters. He wasn't the first to arrive in the wing, as Raimi had said. Perhaps someone else there could help him?

The lack of guards within the wing itself seemed unsafe to him at such a time. When they had arrived initially, Robin remembered seeing guards all around the halls, glaring at them as they passed. Now there wasn't a single one around.

The quarters were below the wing itself, resembling a garrison more than a guest quarters. Robin was sure that Chrom and Lissa would be getting nice, comfortable rooms somewhere in the main part of the wing. On one nondescript wall of the cellar, doors were evenly spaced out with dimly lit torches hung between them. The opposite wall was covered by kegs of some Feroxi drink. One of the doors was open, the light of a candle burning through.

Robin almost pushed himself through, when he remembered this was someone's quarters. He had no idea whose, or in what condition they were. He opted to knock first. This was an equally disastrous decision.

"Eep!" The sound of splintering wood, crushed it into a pile as the weight of a person, crunched through the slit of the door. The familiar voice of Sumia moaned through the door. "Ow..."

"Sumia!" Robin cried. He still didn't dare to step into the room. "Are you okay?" Sumia didn't answer. "Can I come in to see if you're okay? I'll be taking silence as a yes."

"Robin? You can come in. Ow..."

Robin pushed the door open to find Sumia on the floor, a small bedside counter crushed by her clumsiness. She was in her casual outfit again, the same one she had worn on Robin's first night in Ylisse. Robin rushed to her side and offered her a hand. She hesitated for a second before taking it. Her face was bright red.

"I'm sorry you have to see me falling all over myself like this Robin." Sumia muttered. She brushed dirt of of her skirt.

"No worries, Sumia," Robin assured her with a smile. "I've heard that friends look out for each other, and since I'm pretty sure we're friends, I'll pick you up when you... Fall?" Robin trailed into a frown. "That sounded better in my head."

Sumia smiled lightly. "That was pretty bad, Robin. Thank you anyway." She bent down to pick up a book that had toppled to the floor in her crash. 'The Legends of Hyrule?' Robin hadn't heard of it."So, what were you doing here, anyway?"

"Trying to find where exactly Flavia is having her celebration. Nobody has told me yet," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Pika," Pikachu agreed. Something made Sumia giggled. Robin quirked a brow, and she laughed.

"It's really cute how you two do that," she told him.

"Do what?" "Pika?"

Robin turned to Pikachu on his shoulder, who was looked back at him whilst scratching the back of his head in his own confusion. Sumia's 'aww' could have pierced the heavens, and brought demons to weep. Robin, for his part, threw his arm to his side. An action which Pikachu mimicked. As one they sighed. Sumia was beaming.

"Please stop that Pikachu," Robin pleaded. "You're going to make Sumia explode."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu countered adamantly. Robin clicked his tongue in response.

"Well, I literally can't argue with that." Robin turned back to Sumia, who looked ready to burst out in tears or laughter or maybe both. "So, do you know where the Khan's celebration is happening?"

Sumia nodded, wiping away a tear. "Yeah, I was about to head up in a bit. I've just got a few more things to do to get ready."

"It's alright, I can wait," Robin reassured her. He leaned against the wall casually, Pikachu taking the moment to climb down onto the floor to stretch out, clearly feeling more comfortable. When Sumia didn't do anything but glare at Robin, the tactician couldn't help but be a bit befuddled. "So what did you...?"

"Robin." Sumia dead panned. "Please wait outside."

"Huh?" Robin looked stricken for a moment. Then he remembered where he was. "Ah! Sorry. Your room. Your business." He moved awkwardly for the door. "I'll just... Wait. Outside."

"Please do." He shut the door behind him mechanically, and slapped his palm to his forehead. And he'd been so careful before he entered, too. He looked up and down the hall, half expecting Kellam to be standing in the shadows laughing at him again.

The door opened again slightly, and Pikachu was gently nudged out the door. Pikachu's and Robin's eyes met, both a bit uncomfortable. The as one, the two of them shrugged.

---

"Ah, Meta Knight," Belisar greeted with a bow. "It's good to see that you'll be joining us again. Might I ask how your leg is feeling?"

Meta Knight looked at up at the man, nearly twice his height. It made Meta Knight feel so small. Just how he'd prefer an opponent. It was what he had grown accustomed to in the recent years, and even in Dreamland he had fought his fair share of imposing foes. Most of them had not been as acclimated to battle as Belisar, he'd have wagered, but the experience made him feel safe.

Meta Knight returned the bow. "It's feeling better. Besides, the pleasure is mine."

The halls weren't quite empty, nor quite full. Servants passed by the two of them with only the most basic courtesies before heading into the dining hall. Meta Knight wasn't really sure why they were in such a hurry, they would all get to eat. The Exalt seemed to be nothing but generous to her servants and her people.

Belisar chuckled. "Nothing but pleasure all around, it seems." Meta Knight nodded, not acknowledging the man's joke. Belisar didn't seem to mind. "The Exalt has been looking forward to speaking again since the other day. She hoped to talk somewhere more private, where others wouldn't be listening. If you would follow me."

Meta Knight's eyes narrowed, and he couldn't help but feel slightly paranoid. Despite his reservations, when Belisar turned towards a part of the Palace that he had yet to venture into, Meta Knight was just behind him.

"This may be the last time we get to talk for a while, you and I," Belisar said suddenly.

"Oh?" Meta Knight glanced up. "Why is that?"

"In the morning, I'll be leading the Knights towards the Plegian border to look into the bandit problem. More and more sightings have been brought to Ylisstol's attention. The Knights need to put a stop to it."

Meta Knight glanced around the hall. No one seemed to be around at the moment, as most of the staff were likely dining. "Is it wise to be talking about this so openly?"

Belisar shook his head. "No. But the Exalt has always hoped to maintain a certain level of transparency. As I serve her, I strive to follow her example." Belisar's face lowered for a short moment. Meta Knight didn't ask what had crossed the man's mind. "It's been a good example to follow."

"You aren't worried about spies listening in right now?" Meta Knight asked.

"Of course I am," Belisar insisted. "I'd be a fool if I wasn't. But I can't tear apart the walls searching for spies nor write coded messages every time I need to pass information along."

A fair enough point, but Meta Knight wasn't sure. He had heard about the rising bandit activity in the training yard, as well as more attacks from the Risen. The reports were coming in from across the Halidom, coming from as far south as the sea to as far North as what Ylisseans were calling the Longfort. Perhaps it even went beyond, but Regna Ferox had been silent as far as Meta Knight knew.

"Perhaps..." Meta Knight hesitated for a moment, when Belisar stopped walking to face him. "Nevermind. It is folly."

Belisar frowned for a moment. "Ever calculating, aren't you?"

"Someone has to be. It's not going to be Dedede." Meta Knight looked up, trying to judge reception to his joke.

Belisar didn't laugh. Meta Knight was met with glare. "You think Dedede's offer was folly, don't you? Don't try to hide it, the entire court saw your disapproval."

Meta Knight sighed. "Yes. I've done nothing to hide that I think it's folly-"

"But you're soldier, and you know the value of loyalty, at all costs. I know these things too. What you clearly don't know is folly," the knight dismissed. "Your king was rash at worst, and I fail to see any way it hasn't worked out. You've seen for yourself what Ylisse has to offer, you've shared bread with the Exalt, you walk again because of Ylissean healing, and you spar with her soldiers as your recovery ends. How awful it has been," Belisar scowled. "I've done worse things for worse men than your Dedede, and the 'folly' we sowed has salted the earth itself."

Meta Knight took a step back. For the few times he had seen the Knight Commander disappointed, often when he was scolding a soldier in the yard or when Meta Knight's own duel against Sully could have left one of them dead, actual anger was new on the commanders face. Meta Knight could understand why another would be intimidated, but he wasn't exactly cowed. His instincts demanded room for him to react. A part of him prefered that this was how he had earned the man's ire, rather than just by existing.

After a moment, Belisar's features softened. He backed away and stood up straighter.

"Apologies, sir. This is not how I should treat a guest." Belisar's voice had lowered in volume. He gestured down the hall. "The Exalt will be waiting for you down the hall. Phila will be at the door, and knows to expect you. It may be best that I do not join you."

Meta Knight nodded. "I understand." He didn't really,

Belisar bowed low, and turned on his heels back towards the normal dining hall. Meta Knight watched the man go until he took a corner, still not exactly sure how he had upset the man. Maybe he'd ask the Exalt later.

---

The celebration hall wasn't as grand as Robin had been expecting. It was a homely place with an atmosphere that resembled a tavern more than a palace, which he supposed was just in line with what he knew of the Feroxi. Admittedly, that wasn't much.

The first thing he noticed was the white coat of the bear's head which was displayed high on the wall. It reminded him of the trek they had made through the snowy paths to Qashliq. It's fangs seems sharper than the one Frederick had slain weeks beforehand south of Ylisstol, and even in death it looked ready to devour everyone in the room.

Directly underneath the head was the seat of the newly-reigning Khan, her feet propped casually on a long table and a mug was clutched in her gauntlet. At her back were several Feroxi Warriors, all of which were leaning in towards the boy who was sitting - a loose use of the word - by Flavia's side. Popo was standing upright in his seat, a fact which didn't bother the adults around him at all, as he seemed to be acting out his story. Nana, for her part, sat on the opposite side of the Khan, shaking her head as her brother played the fool.

"... And that's when we found her! The ravenous monster, right by our companions," Popo was telling his audience. Robin raised a brow, his curiously peaked. Popo was still going as Robin approached the table. "It had eyes that could pierce your soul, sharp talons that could tear through armor, and icy breath that could freeze most men. But to me. Worst of all was the birds tail. They say she can fit an entire person inside her tail, and carry them back to her nest to feed her offspring."

Wait, what? Did Regna Ferox truly possess such monsters? Robin felt his spine tingle from a sudden chill. A quiet giggle beside him broke him from his fears, and he turned to find Sumia standing beside him, listening as well.

"And pray tell, how did you catch the demon bird, Popo?" The Khan urged loudly, making sure everyone in the room heard. She wore a wide smirk on her face, as though she had heard the story before. The other men around Popo seemed very interested in the boy's story, though.

"We snuck up behind her," The boy continued, crouching low in his seat. Nana rolled her eyes. "Just when she looked poised to strike, wham!" Popo jumped up onto the table, fiercely grappling himself as though something we're in front of him. "We grabbed her, stopping her from taking anyone away and saving the Prince's men!"

The men laughed, encouraging Popo. One man urged the boy on, asking what they did once they captured the fiend.

"We carried her alive before Raimi, as a trophy for our general!" Popo declared. "And so ends the tale of our encounter with the demon bird." Popo's audience cheered, and Robin couldn't help but join in. It was a bit funny, he thought. That sounded a little bit like the bird he and Nana brought before them kicking and screaming when they first entered Qashliq that morning.

Robin dismissed the thought. Why would a kid lie about something like that? Raimi had said that the twins were her best warriors. It made sense that they would take care of a great threat.

Pikachu didn't look impressed, though.

The twins left the table as the crowd dispersed, Nana asking for permission from Flavia first. They left the room under the condition that they return to eat. As they left, Flavia finally noticed Robin. She gave a hearty wave.

"Ah, you're the tactician! Robert, was it?" Flavia was turned to the girl beside the tactician, giving him no chance to correct her. "And you're... One of the Shepherds still, I hope."

Sumia nodded. "My name is-"

"Welcome to my victory!" Flavia shouted, eliciting a cheer from the other men around her. "Enjoy yourselves. None of the other Shepherds have arrived yet, and I don't know when the food will be done."

Sumia deflated as she was interrupted, simply saying thank you. She sulked away from the Khan, taking a seat further down the long table. It was a pitiable sight.

"Hey Pikachu," he spoke up. The mouse on his shoulder perked up, having heard his name. "I've gotta talk to the Khan real quick, can you go keep Sumia company?"

"Pika...?" Pikachu looked back and forth between Sumia and Robin a few times, not even budging from his perch until Robin gave him an encouraging pat on the back. Pikachu jumped off Robin's shoulder, sending a glare Robin's way before jogging down the table. Robin took the seat to Flavia's right, prompting a curious glance from the Khan.

"Oh?" Flavia questioned. "Did you need something from me, Robert?"

"Robin," he sharply corrected. Flavia snarled, making him immediately regret his temper. "Sorry, Khan. My name is Robin." As he apologized, he was confused to see Flavia looking disappointed.

"There's no spine on you, is there 'Robin?'" Flavia said mockingly, making air quotes with her fingers. "So quick to back down. Clearly, you don't have an ounce of Feroxi in your veins."

Robin sharply exhaled before explaining, "I'd rather not start an international incident. Not while we stand so close to war elsewhere. You can't begrudge me that, can you?"

Flavia shrugged. "If you insist, I'll consider trying. I make no promises."

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose. He spared a glance down the table, where Sumia seemed to be incredibly focused on the door they had entered through. She was absently running her fingers down Pikachu's back. Her longer nails had the mouse more than satiated, as he was resting his head lazily against her arm.

"So, you wanted to talk. Talk, dammit," Flavia insisted.

"Right. Sor-" Robin began to apologize, which caused Flavia to scowl. Great start, Robin thought. He cleared his throat. "I wanted ask how exactly the Feroxi fight."

"Depends on the situation, just like with you I'd imagine," Flavia said. "Most of us will always take a direct confrontation when we can, but you know as well as I that sometimes, you can't win that way."

"Could you clarify?" Robin asked.

"Well, what do you do when you're outnumbered? Retreat? Throw yourself at a stronger foe?"

Robin leaned back and thought for a moment. "I'm going to need a bit more context if you want me to come up with a plan on the spot."

"Ugh. You damned... You pick and prod at your foe, is my answer. Not more questions," Flavia said, as though it were so obvious. "Our trackers take or burn supplies while our warriors hit the enemy until the trackers have done their part. Then they all hide to do it all over again."

Robin nodded. This seemed obvious enough. He had expected a bigger answer than that.

"What about in a defensive situation?" He asked. "How would the Feroxi keep a larger foe from taking something specific? Something that you couldn't easily hide, like the Arena here?"

Flavia looked at him like he was speaking another language. "Who would put value on such a thing? The Arena is only a place. We could build another."

"Ylisse has many buildings, any one of which would take many years to replace alone," Robin told her. He could almost hear the ringing of the cathedral's bell. If he closed his eyes, he could see the tallest tower of the Palace, where the Pegasus Knights kept their mounts, and around which they watched the skies. "And whilst they are being rebuilt, there would be nothing serving their function in their stead. Morale would falter, resources would be squandered, and the Ylissean armies would be distrustful of you for letting their pride take such a hit."

"Fine, I'll humor you," Flavia leaned back in her chair, seeming to actually give his question thought. "In that case, ambushes would be best. Let the enemy come to us, trapped them with blockades and strike. My men likely couldn't fight as well as your Knights in your cities, though. We're used to fighting either in the wide open, or in the woods."

Robin nodded. "And if someone gave a Feroxi orders, say an Ylissean general, would they listen?"

Flavia shrugged. "Depends on if it will earn glory for their tribe, or clan, or their country. War is all about what is reaped, and handing that glory to someone else isn't in many of our warriors' interests. We don't have many good healers up here for that same reason. No glory to be earned healing. Most tribe elders in the East learn a bit about herbal medicine, but that's it."

So most support roles were out, then. It didn't matter much to Robin specifically, as the Shepherds themselves already had healers in Lissa, and supposedly Maribelle, if she ever actually joined up with them. He was sitting beside the Khan quietly for a moment, trying to think of more questions when a low growl emitted from his stomach.

"Ha! The next question out of your mouth better be about dinner, Robin," Flavia teased. Robin had gotten a syllable out before she answered her own question. "I've got no idea when it'll be ready. Dedede's... Guys? Pets? What are they?"

"Waddle Dees," Robin deadpanned.

"Yeah those. One of them asked if they could help in the kitchen. I told Dedede the same thing a bit before you showed up." Flavia leaned back in her chair. "Perhaps you could go check on how it's going for me? Dedede's down there helping, but perhaps you could help too. We can talk again when we've got food in front of us."

Robin hesitated for a moment. Not because he wasn't hungry, the rumbling noises could attest to that. The conversation they were having was important for his job as a tactician, though. But, eating was important for living, too. Robin agreed to go so long as Flavia gave him directions. Once he knew where to go, Robin stood up, and departed for the kitchen with a bow.

Pikachu was so blissfully melted into Sumia's care that he didn't even notice his master leave the room.

---

"No!" The Feroxi man shouted. Bandana Dee jumped at the sudden noise. "What are you things doing? I told you to cook the fish, not burn it. Do you know how expensive that is? I can't waste it!"

The kitchen was a modest place, and tightly fit. The fact that five Waddle Dees fit in the right spaces was due to their amazing special awareness, and not much else. The chef seemed keen on closing into their personal bubbles at every opportunity, taking over every station for moments at a time. Always just long enough to make their help feel wasted.

Bandana Dee had been the exception, thus far. He was standing on top of a stool, flourishing a knife and tearing through the veritable plethora of vegetable beside the cutting board. He chopped the carrot before him into a good number of evenly sized pieces. He took a glance at the chef, and once he confirmed that the chef was still dealing with the other situation Bandana Dee slid a few carrot slices into the stew beside him.

The chef himself was a large and dark skinned man. His head had barely any hair, with the speckles still there cut as close to his skull as possible with a knife. He was wearing a long-sleeved tunic and long pants, both of which were completely covered in stains but for his sleeves.

"But Dedede likes his fish this hot," the accused Waddle Dee countered softly, to Bandana Dee's silent frustration. "And then you add a dab of those spices over there, and-"

"I don't care what your king likes!" The chef pulled the fish away from the fire. "There are at least fifty other people who have to eat this! And They. Don't. Like. Their food. Burned," the chef insisted, chopping at his hand with every word. Bandana Dee tried to ignore the man who clearly had no taste. He instead focused on cutting the vegetables, most of which he was supposed to slide into the stew. He couldn't name most of them.

He could name the carrots, though. The carrots were going to complement the crown jewel of the feast, so to speak. At least, that's what the chef said. Bandana Dee hadn't learned the man's name, and just called him chef or chef, sir.

Blessedly, the door opened at that time. From over the counter Bandanna Dee watched a familiar man buried in purple robes step in.

"Excuse me, is this the kitchen?" The voice of Robin timidly asked. The chef turned from the Waddle Dee he had been arguing with.

"Ah, thank Naga!" The chef praised. He leaned uncomfortably close to Robin. "You are here to help, right?"

"Uh, I was asked to check on dinner's progress," Robin said, backing away a step.

"Good enough," the chef shrugged. "If you're going to help, take off that robe, you'll ruin it working in here."

"Uh..." Robin shrugged hesitantly shrugged off the overcoat and passed it into the chef's greasy hands. The chef hung it on the corner of a currently emptied shelf that was relatively far from the rest of the kitchen.

"Alright, so I've got an easy job for you, but also an incredibly important one. One I couldn't trust to these things," the chef said, chuckling at some joke no one else heard. He pointed a thumb towards a large cauldron, hung over a fire. "In that pot is my premium soup. It doesn't need anything showy. That's what the beaut in the corner is for. No, I just need you to stir the pot. If it starts to bubble you move it off the fire. All good, friend?"

"Um..." Robin looked at the chef, then back at the pot, then back at the chef.

"Perfect," the chef pushed him toward the pot. "Now, I've gotta grab something else from the storeroom for the soup. If that big penguin looking guy comes back, don't do anything with the vinegar he brings. It needs a professional's touch."

And the man was out the door without another breath. Bandana Dee was happy to have the time to breath at last. When he had offered to help, he hasn't expected that the Waddle Dee's every action would be scrutinized. The recently accosted Waddle Dee by the fish clapped at his exit, and promptly stuck the crispy morsels back over the fire. Bandana Dee shook his head, deciding to intervene.

"You shouldn't do that," Bandana Dee directed. "It's not our kitchen."

The other Waddle Dee looked offended. "But Bandana, this is how we always prepare fish!"

"If you do something bad, it makes Dedede look bad. That's what Meta Knight would say," Bandana Dee reminded the well meaning Waddle Dee. "And not listening to the chef's rules in his kitchen is super bad."

After a moment, the fish were dejectedly pulled from the fire and laid to cool on the counter. With a huff, the Waddle Dee jumped from his stool stepped out of the kitchen. The others continued in their own tasks of cutting and sweeping and checking temperatures. Robin, who had squatted down by the cauldron of soup as he had been asked, held a brow up curiously.

"Do they all listen to you that well?" The man asked as he mechanically stirred the soup.

"Only if His Greatness or Meta Knight aren't around," Bandana Dee answered, turning back to the cutting board in front of him. "I'm only just in charge for little things that they don't need to care about."

"And that's why you're the favorite minion, right?" Robin asked coyly. A few of the other Waddle dees glared at his remark, but Bandana Dee's eyes smiled at the reminder. Not that Robin could see them.

"Of course. And I work the hardest, and train the hardest, and I cook the best. Better than Flavia's silly chef."

Robin chuckled for some reason. Bandana Dee didn't ask why, odds are he said something funny.

"Gods, everything in here smells great," Robin commented. Bandana Dee heard a hungry rumble from the general direction of the Shepherd.

"Of course it does. Some of us know how to not mess up dinner," Bandana Dee bragged, quieter than he had been speaking. He reached for the next vegetable, an onion of unimpressive dimensions. "And we know how to do it without upsetting the chef."

"Then what was that bit about 'this is not our kitchen?'"

"The other Waddle Dee messed up," Bandana Dee explained, deftly cutting through the onion before him like air and scraping it into the bowl. "I swear, onions? Wish I could get away with not including that."

Robin was silent for a moment, then he let out a sigh.

"Bandana Dee, I'd like to apologize for what happened on the road," Robin said. Mid chop, Bandana Dee's hand froze. He laid the chef's knife down gently on the table and turned on his stool to face Robin.

"I don't understand."

"I put you in a bad spot, and could have gotten you killed by sending you out there." Robin had also stopped stirring, having turned to face Bandana Dee.

"Not your fault," Bandana Dee said. "Nothing to forgive."

"But-"

"Strategy is your kitchen," Bandana Dee said simply. "And you would have cooked up a better plan if I came back when I was supposed to. And now I only get to eat half of what I'd want to tonight because I embarrassed Dedede."

Robin went silent, clearly unsure of what to say. He turned back to the cauldron to stir, and Bandana Dee returned to cutting vegetables. They were silent for a while, just doing their work. Bandana Dee felt bad again. He hadn't felt well since the fight with the Risen, and he didn't think it was malnourishment. Half rations around Dedede was still generous enough to sustain him.

He'd made things awkward in the kitchen. The silence of the other Waddle Dees was something he'd come to expect, as most of them got more nervous around other races than he did. But he'd known Robin about as long as the Shepherds, and he never saw him this quiet for this long. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to sound smart to an actually smart person.

"So if this chef is mishandling his kitchen, any ideas on how to handle this soup?" Robin asked suddenly. Bandana Dee was hardly caught off guard, though he was happy that at least the tactician wasn't too mad to talk to him.

"No. The soup smells fine," he'd answered, barely diverting his attention from the vegetables and his small spittle of self loathing. He would come to regret his nonchalance later, when he heard the rattling of jars behind him. Bandana Dee turned around to see Robin dabbling something into the soup.

Robin had taken the soup into his own hands.

"Uh, Robin? What is that?" Bandana Dee asked, a tinge of fear in his voice.

"I... Don't know. Smells good, though"

Bandana Dee smacked both of his hands onto his face and sat on the stool. He had lost his words.

By the time Dedede burst into the room, grumbling about a king doing grunt work, the kitchen smelled like a different place. Something distinctly off, as though the life were being sucked from it. None of the Waddle Dees were working anymore, all of them cornering Robin right beside the gruel that had once been the greatest thing the chef made.

---

Meta Knight thanked Phila politely as she opened the door. Her armor was the color of gold, had the gold never been cleaned of the dirt it was dug up from. Though Phila's white hair and dirtied chest plate would have painted her old and tired, her smooth face and hard eyes told a different story. When Meta Knight scanned the room and saw that the Exalt and Phila were the only ones in the room, he figured he knew why the Wing Commander was so alert.

The Exalt sat by the fireplace in the farthest chair from the door. As ever, she still wore her robes over herself. It was the first time Meta Knight had seen her without the angelic halo that was her crown. She looked up from the fireplace and smiled at her guest.

"Sir Meta Knight," Emmeryn greeted pleasantly from her seat by the fire. "I'm glad to see you have accepted my invitation."

The room was very cozy. A few cushioned chairs and a sofa surrounded a blue carpet by a fireplace. The windows lacked the height and stained-glass designs ubiquitous around the rest of the Palace. It vaguely reminded Meta Knight of the average home in Hyrule, or perhaps even the Mushroom Kingdom, but with the distinct blue and white colors of Ylisse.

"It was my pleasure to accept, though I must admit I find the change in setting confusing," Meta Knight admitted.

Emmeryn smiled in answer. "You didn't seem at ease in the dining hall. I assumed you would be more comfortable talking more privately. Was I wrong?"

"Not at all, Your Grace," Meta Knight answered quickly. Too quickly. "I'm a bit embarrassed that you noticed at all."

"I hadn't, really," Emmeryn admitted. Something in her voice sounded different, but Meta Knight wasn't really sure what. "But I'd imagine that no man who wears a mask all the time would be eager to show his face in a crowd."

Meta Knight put a hand on his mask. She did have a point there, he had to privately admit.

"I appreciate the gesture, Your Grace," he said.

The Exalt accepted his gratitude as Phila led Meta Knight to the open seat opposite of the Exalt's own. Phila rested her lance on the floor in front of her, and sat at attention.

"I'd had to redecorate in here," Emmeryn said suddenly. "It used to be much more comfortable in here. Paintings of famed heroes used to line the walls." Meta Knight looked around, taking in the decor as she mentioned it. Holly lined the ceiling, and an Ylissean banner hung on a single wall. A large portrait of a man in blue hung over the fireplace, and an intricate looking shield hung on the mantle. The wall was otherwise barren.

"I see," He said, unsure of where she was going. "May I ask why?"

"You may," Emmeryn allowed. "I didn't want them and I figured the Cathedral could make better use of them. I still see the paintings in their halls, sometimes." She took in a breath. "Tell me, Sir Knight, where is Belisar? I had thought he would be accompanying you."

Meta Knight sighed. He had hoped he wouldn't have to say anything until later. "Belisar has asked to me apologize in his stead. He and I had a... disagreement, I suppose. Something I said upset him greatly, and he thought it better he wasn't here."

Emmeryn frowned at the news. Phila looked far more upset, her conscious effort to keep her hands still obvious by their shaking.

"What did you say to him?" The Wing Commander demanded.

"Phila, Meta Knight is our guest. Show him some respect.," Emmeryn ordered. Then she turned to Meta Knight. "That said, I would like to know as well. I've known Belisar my whole life, and I can only think of a few times he's ever been truly angered."

Meta Knight looked back and forth between the Exalt and Phila, truly uncomfortable for the first time since he left the Cathedral. He couldn't bring himself to lie, yet the truth was momentarily caught on his tongue. He'd thought Belisar was mad due to his unease about Ylisse, but there sounded like here was something more than that from the man. What if this offended the Exalt and Phila as well somehow? This was an awkward situation.

But if one absolutely had to step on a Gordo, best it be done with and moved on from.

"I hope that I do not offend you when I say that this alliance has made me uneasy," Meta Knight started. Phila looked to say something, but Emmeryn put up a hand to stop her. She looked back at Meta Knight with an unclear expression on her face, but said nothing.

Meta Knight continued in the silence. "It was never that I did not hope to be on amiable term. As I told you, it has become my duty to seek out allies for the Kingdoms. However... I've felt the manner in which it happened was rash. I cannot overturn Dedede's decision, nor yours. I wouldn't hope to either. Belisar was upset when I made my hesitance known to him."

The Exalt nodded, giving nothing away in her features. "And how did you say it to him?"

Meta Knight looked into her eyes when he said, "I called it Dedede's folly."

Emmeryn acknowledged his answer with a 'hm,' closing her eyes for a moment. Despite how passive her face remained, she was clearly piecing something together based on what Meta Knight said. After a brief moment, her eyes opened, though they were downcast. Her mouth tugged upwards into a smile, but it was mournfully raised against the weight of her thoughts.

"Belisar values loyalty above all else," was the conclusion she came to. "You are not loyal to Dedede, are you?"

Meta Knight leaned sideways curiously. When he thought of it, she wasn't wrong, was she? Even when he first awakened from his coma after the crash, one of the first things he did was scold Dedede. Of course he deserved it, Meta Knight held no doubt about that. But even once they reached Ylisstol his actions toward the King, despite the facade he had tried to put up, suggested that he didn't even respect Dedede. He wasn't sure he did.

Did he want to? He had certainly put a lot of effort forth trying to make the King into what he thought they needed, and that was that. And he did need King Dedede to be a better person. This world had made Meta Knight sacrifice part of who he was to keep them afloat, and now here he was talking to the leader of an entire country. Why would a warrior do that? The answer became obvious to him, and so he shared it with the patiently waiting Exalt.

"I'm loyal to the home that I have lost, and hope to find again."

When the Exalt talked, there was always a divine air about the tone she took. Whether it was in the kindness in her smile, or how she spoke in a ubiquitously gentle manner even as she raised her voice. When she responded to Meta Knight again, there was a motherly care that stood out even above the divinity.

"You and the Knight Commander have much in common. He has taken to you fondly, and it grieves me to see fighting amongst allies." Emmeryn lowered her head as she continued. "Perhaps I should explain. Belisar's loyalty to Ylisse has brought him much pain in the times where the people around him didn't truly know best. People that ruled him. He mistook his love of his country as proof that it could do no wrong."

"But it could," Meta Knight surmised. Phila leaned in towards Emmeryn.

"Your Grace, is this-?"

"I have never hidden Ylisse's past from anyone, and never have I denied its mistakes," Emmeryn told Phila before turning back to Meta Knight. "To this day, we live with the mistakes of the past, whether or not they were mine. Belisar fought an unjust war against Plegia for years on his Exalt's behalf, slaughtering Plegian civilians because he was told to. When he finally came home, my father the Exalt had been killed and two nations were in ruins. Even Belisar was a shell of the man he was, and that he became again."

Something clicked in Meta Knight's head. He examined the Exalt's expression, somber despite her best efforts. Her hands were folded on her lap, unmoving.

"And your father's actions... He is the reason that Plegia hounds you now?" Meta Knight asked. Emmeryn nodded.

"I have always done my best to keep things from coming to violence again," the Exalt said. "Plegia's King Gangrel has not been the most accommodating man, but no one wants war. I'm sure of it. And once Gangrel ceases this madness and this war business is settled, perhaps Belisar can be convinced to retire at last."

Meta Knight hm'd. "Once this is over, we will be able to begin repairs on the Halberd. Perhaps if he were willing, he could travel across the sea with us when we return to the Allied Kingdoms. Not for duty, but to see the world."

The Exalt smiled at that. "I'm not sure how he would feel about that. You're free to offer, though."

The doors opened as she spoke, making way for servants who were carrying a table. They were followed by servers with trays, walking much like the last dinner Meta Knight attended in the dining hall. The table was placed in front of the chairs and sofa, just long enough that it could be reached from every seat. A plate and a cup was placed before each of them, and one by one the servers offered vegetables and meats and drinks to each of them, starting with the Exalt.

Once their plates were full, a single server waited by the table, the rest lining the walls watching the Exalt. She held her palms together and whispered a prayer, and gave the servants permission to go eat. They left the room two at a time in an impressive show of coordination.

As he ever needed to, Meta Knight took off his mask. For just this once, he didn't much mind if anyone in the room looked. The Exalt had unmasked herself that day already.

Phila perked up a bit, the hint of an idea visibly crossing her mind.

"I'd like to apologize for how I acted earlier, Meta Knight. You have met my subordinate Cordelia, right?" She asked. Meta Knight looked up at her, a leaf of lettuce hanging from his lips. He nodded before swallowing the piece all at once. "She mentioned that you said that you've flown. I have never known her to be a liar, but I had my doubts until Belisar confirmed as much the other night."

"And?"

"It occurred to me that you might find the training fields constraining."

---

"Chrom! Finally!" The Khan greeted him with a raised flagon. Her feet rested on top of a long oak table. Feroxi and the Shepherds alike were dispersed around the hall, among other things. A Waddle Dee carrying a drink tray approached the two men standing in the door and offered cups of water. Lon'qu raised a curious brow, and refused the offer pensively. Chrom took a cup with a thank you.

At the table, near to the door, Chrom saw Sumia sitting alone but for Pikachu curled up on her lap. He couldn't see Robin anywhere, though, which he found odd. She waved at her Captain, and he waved back. Her face turned a bit red, and Chrom partly wanted to join her. He sighed, and gestured down the table at their host. Sumia deflated a bit in her seat, but she nodded in reluctant understanding.

Chrom approached the Khan. He could hear boots the stone behind him, almost certainly Lon'qu's.

"Apologies Khan. I'd been trying to find my Shepherds in the crowd," Chrom grumbled. He had found no one at all over the course of an hour. The odds of such seemed small, since he'd assumed that they would also be looking for him. Looking around the room, he suddenly understood why he'd had such difficulties.

Flavia heartily guffawed, her drink sloshing from the movement.

"Dedede had found them all by the time you had finished flirting with the oaf!" Flavia's responded with a heavy handed wink. She continued before Chrom could start to stutter a response. "I've met most of your men in the time we've been waiting for you, and the King assured me that we had found everyone."

Chrom took a glance around the room, and could see many of his companions scatter throughout the room. Frederick was watching his sister down the table, likely keeping her from drinking anything she shouldn't. Honestly, Chrom thought he should repeal that rule for Lissa, just once. She was getting old enough to handle it. Then again, what would Frederick do when they went out? Dust the pubs? Push in chairs?

Vaike was also nearby, chatting eagerly with Flavia's Feroxi Warriors. If Chrom listened, he could hear the fool trying to boast to them. The Prince doubted they were impressed. Miriel was looking over some text in an isolated corner of the room, taking sips of some drink or another. Every now and then, she would write something down, look contemplative for a moment, and take another sip.

Chrom also saw Virion lecherously eying one of Flavia's servants near the fire. The girl was perhaps the only server in the room who wasn't a Waddle Dee.

Flavia's words clicked just a moment after he took in the room.

"Wait, how did you know I talked with Basilio?"

"He's loud," she smirked. "So, who's the new guy?"

The Feroxi man stood tall when he answered, though the confident image failed to pass along through the unfamiliar shakiness in his voice now. "I am Lon'qu, former champion of Khan Basilio. I have been ordered to join Chrom and the Shepherds as representative of the West."

Flavia clicked her tongue and removed her feet from the table. They hit the ground with a stomp, and and she pushed herself out of her seat with a grunt. She glared in scrutiny at the Lon'qu, and for the third time that day Chrom was expecting a fight. And then Lon'qu flinched back and Flavia lost it.

"Ha! It is you, then," she guffawed, falling drunkenly into her seat. "I'd heard that the oh-so great champion of the West was scared of woman. I thought it was a jest, yet here you are, cowering before me."

Lon'qu's fists balled up hard enough that the finger bones cracked. Before anyone could say anything else, the man stormed away.

"Was that necessary, Flavia?" Chrom asked. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Of course it was. Basilio would be confused if he heard I treated his man in any other way."

Chrom wasn't sure how he should feel about that, but when he saw Flavia's cheeky drunken smirk, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Seriously Prince, I am glad you could make it. This is as much your victory as it is mine!" An idea colored the Khan's face. "I should propose a toast."

Chrom shook his head. "That won't be-"

He spoke too slowly, if he ever had a chance at all. Flavia jumped out of her chair, showing an impressive amount of dexterity uncommon in the less-than-sober. She threw up her arm, bearing her mug.

"Warriors of the East, I'd like to propose a toast!" She shouted with barely a slur. "Thanks to our friend here, Prince Chrom of Ylisse, I am once again the reigning Khan of Regna Ferox! So raise your cups, and cheer! To Prince Chrom and Ylisse!"

Chrom tried to hide his face in his hand as the crowd echoed her cheer. Cups and mugs and flagons alike were upturned in celebration of the Prince. His cup was untouched, though the water inside trembled with the table when the various empty drinks were slammed back onto the table.

"Won't even drink to your..." She looked into Chrom's cup. "Well, no wonder! One of those Waddle Dees gave you water!"

"Flavia, please-"

She was standing up, her shout on her lips, but the doors burst open, stopping her in mislay up. She sat back down curiously the robust figure of the King of Dreamland waddled in. He stood proudly in front of the room, having already caught their attention without a word.

"Dinner's here!" He shouted, throwing his arms in the air. From either side of him, Waddle Dees entered the room bearing a feast with them. At the end of the train, Dedede stepped aside proudly to present the largest of his works, a boar the size of a man. A Feroxi chef was carrying the roasted boar, with Robin carrying the back end of the tray. Flavia whistled at the size of the beast.

"I don't remember killing that one," she said.

"You didn't. Basilio wanted to send his congratulations," the chef explained as he and Robin put down the tray in front of the Khan. "He also said, 'consider it consolation for when I take your seat back next year.'"

"That cheeky..." Flavia shook her head. "I'll eat the whole damn thing, and do it again next year when my next champion kicks his arse again."

The chef brushed off Flavia's abrasive attitude with a half hearted chuckle, and dutifully asked if he may be excused. Flavia had started to consent when she noticed something was missing.

"Chef, where's the soup?"

The man growled in response. "Spoiled. Inedible. An insult to food, take your choice. That 'help' you sent down doesn't know a damned thing about how to prepare food." He ended by shaking his head and storming out of the room without permission, in true Feroxi fashion. Flavia and Chrom both glared at Robin. For his part, Robin did look at the very least ashamed of however he ruined the soup.

"A pity," Flavia monotoned. She turned to Chrom dejectedly. "Normally, that soup is the most impressive part of that man's feasts."

The glare she then turned to Robin terrified him such that he remained frozen in time halfway to his seat. When he finally moved again, he squeaked an apology and strategically left the seat to find anywhere else to sit.

Had Chrom still been in Ylisse, eating wouldn't begin until everyone was seated and a prayer was said by the head of the table, in this case Flavia. He was not in Ylisse though, so as soon as the feast had been laid out Feroxi Warriors scrambled for seats closest to the boar or the venison or whatever they wanted and ripped at it with their hands. He wasn't surprised to see Vaike indulging in the buffoonery as well. The pig did look good, though...

"M'lord, it's not polite to salivate," the voice of Frederick suddenly scolded from behind him, breaking Chrom out of his trance. Chrom was turning around when the knight's handkerchief touched his face, wiping off a bit f drool that Chrom hadn't noticed.

"Right, sorry mother," he teased in response. Frederick clicked his tongue in annoyance and took the seat beside him. Despite still being in full armor, the knight didn't look out of place. Most of the room looked battle ready except for the servers and Sumia, who had changed out of her armor for the evening.

"I apologize for once again for not having someone ready to escort you back, M'lord." Frederick took a plate and fork from the table, both of which were largely being ignored by the local diners. Flavia herself had jumped out of her seat to get a stab at Basilio's beast, and an entire leg for herself. "It was a mistake I shan't repeat again."

"Relax, Frederick. I made it, didn't I?" Food was being claimed quickly all the way down the table, either by hands of the Feroxi or the more belligerent amongst the Shepherds. Frederick was calmly forking anything that suited his fancy immediately in his reach, including what was left of a nearby chicken, which made him the most patient person that Chrom could see.

Chrom decided that he preferred the locals' methods, pushed himself from his seat, and told Frederick to save his seat. He could see Frederick pull the chair the prince had just departed closer to his own out of the corner of his eye.

"Cmon, Khan! Lemme get a bite!" Chrom heard Dedede shout. "I helped prepare the thing!"

"Ha! Get your own!"

Over the table, Chrom could see Dedede grasping for the boar leg that Flavia had claimed. The Khan was keeping him at bay with a single hand, and taking bites of the leg with the other. Surrounding them, a few of the Feroxi cheered, though most still had their full attention on claiming their dinner.

Chrom noticed what looked like an animals leg, covered in gravy. What animal, he couldn't tell, but when in Ferox. He'd added two potatoes to his plate when he remembered he had a seat next to Frederick. Chrom didn't quite believe that nonsense about variety meaning better health, and he refused to until Miriel finally released her findings on the subject.

Stew was something he was up for, however. He reached for the ladle, and his hand brushed against someone else's briefly.

"Ah, sorry about..." Chrom started, silencing when the other person started apologizing at the same time.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Sumia began to apologize. "Chrom. Captain, I mean... Hi."

Chrom didn't speak for a moment, feeling a bit embarrassed. Before the heat reached his cheeks - something he was sure his current company wouldn't let down - Chrom forced himself to say something.

"You go first," he insisted.

"No, it's fine Captain. It's for him," she said, nudging her head towards her shoulder. Chrom raised a brow, and was surprised to see Pikachu looking down hungrily at the stew.

"Oh... Well, okay." Chrom grabbed the ladle and poured stew into a bowl, which he laid onto his already overcrowded dish. He eyed the mouse warily as he did so. Not that he was envious of it. That'd be ridiculous.

"So... Been a while since we really talked, hasn't it, Captain?" Sumia looked up at him as she poured, which didn't seem safe to do. Chrom would have offered to do it for her, but he wouldn't have been able to reach. At least he could stop himself from making further a fool of himself.

"Yeah. Not since that night before we found Dedede and his ship," Chrom lamented. "I apologize for that."

"Oh, no! Don't worry about it. It's... Fine." Sumia didn't sound convinced. "I'm just another Shepherd, after all."

"No, you're not. Every Shepherd is better than any average soldier, and you are a step above even that."

Sumia paused a second, and Chrom worried he said something weird. Then she smiled, such a moment that Chrom cherished when he could.

"Thank you," Sumia said, her face turning red.

"If you'd like, you could join me near the head of the table," Chrom offered. "I'm sure that Frederick wouldn't mind moving."

"Oh, I'd love too!" Sumia agreed joyfully. She quickly stood taller, too quickly for the stew to all stay in her bowl. Pikachu was startled when the stew suddenly splashed onto his fur.

"Pika!" Sumia clammed up when she realized what she had done. "Pi!"

"What did you do?" Robin shouted from across the table.

"Your murine compatriot shall be returning to you a substantially more moistened than when you saw him last!" Virion shouted back.

Sumia seemed to shrink a bit more. A red faced Vaike seemed to find Sumia's embarrassment hilarious. In the corner of the room, Lon'qu shook his head.

"Why don't you return Robin's pet, and we can find you something to eat," Chrom suggested. Sumia nodded meekly, and shuffled down the table to return Pikachu.

Chrom had hoped to just return to his seat to leave his plate. What he found when he arrived was not what he had hoped.

Frederick was standing a few steps from the table, holding his plate up as he picked at his food. In the seat where the knight had been was King Dedede with approximately a fourth of a pig's leg. Flavia was back in her chair with the rest of the leg still and bruises down her arm. At least Dedede got that much, Chrom mused, but now his offer to Sumia was effectively moot.

"Hey Chrom!" Dedede said before digging his beak into the meat. As he swallowed he gestured to the seat next him. "Your minion said you were sitting here, and offered his seat instead. While you do need to fix a few things about him, like that attitude, he's a keeper."

"Minion?" Chrom turned to Frederick, who was to busy glowering at Dedede to notice his Prince's disappointment. "Nevermind. What's wrong with the seats on the other side of the table?"

Dedede looked across the table, where three empty seats laid in a row. Then he shrugged, taking another bite.

"I dunno. You were sitting here, and we royalty should stick together," he claimed.

Chrom's palm struck his head, an involuntary reflex. He regretted it a bit when he saw the confusion in Dedede's face.

"What? Did I say something funny?"

Chrom sighed. "No, but I'll be taking a seat over there. I had -hoped- to enjoy... Someone else's company for dinner tonight."

"But now I'm here! Isn't that better?" Dedede asked, his arms out to present his gluttonous entirety. Chrom had to force a smile to his face.

"Of... Of course you're great. But..." Chrom was at a loss for words. How could he be subtle about this. The answer he found was lacking: dismiss subtlety. Chrom navigated around the gorging Khan and took one of the empty seat across from Dedede's right.

Dedede frowned, answering Chrom's dismissal by moving into Chrom's original seat just across from the Prince. Flavia licked her lips as the pig leg was gone, making Sully look the height like the height of Ylissean nobility by comparison.

Dedede scooted in his seat, shooting a glare at Chrom, before turning to Flavia with a more positive expression.

"So Khan!" He greeted. "Thanks for the pig."

"It was hard fought, and many losses were had for this pig," Flavia said, showing off her bruises. "But in the end I got the most!"

"Did you?" Dedede asked, his eyes shifty and his beak wide in a smile. He leaned back in his chair, threw open a flap of his coat, and pulled out the boar's other hind leg.

"Hey! Who's victory was this?" Flavia demanded playfully. She interrupted Dedede's answering by point to herself confidently. "Yes. Mine. Without that victory, there would be no pig eating. And shouldn't the winner get what she wants?"

"As the winner of the tourney, I'll happily take it," Chrom said, extending his arm across the table. Dedede pulled the leg close to his body and stuck his tongue out. Flavia howled with laughter.

"Didn't we all win today?" Dedede asked, sounding... Moderately serious. It was unusual coming from the King of Dreamland. Chrom raised an eyebrow curiously. "I mean, Chrom won the fight and got his alliance. And you, Khan. You're leading your country again, aren't you?"

Flavia nodded. "You better have a point, or I'll be taking that back from you."

"I'm getting there! Part of the deal was that you'd be helping get the materials that I need. So, I won too," Dedede concluded. "So, since we all win, we all have equal claim on the pig. And I claimed it first." He took a huge bite out of it and nodded proudly. "Speaking of, you'll be able to get everything I need soon, right?"

Flavia and Chrom exchanged a glance. Flavia clicked her tongue and took her seat.

"Dedede, there will be a... delay on getting you everything," Flavia said hesitantly. Dedede's mouth hung open mid-bite. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Delay... Why?" Dedede out the leg down on the table in front of him. "What kind of delay?"

"The copper you need is in the West. It would take time to organize retrieval, to move it..."

Dedede slammed his hands onto the table. He pushed himself up out of his chair, his eyes shooting death at the Khan suddenly.

"I should have known you'd try this. I don't think you get it, dummy, so let me tell you something," the King growled. "I need these metals, more than you and your worthless fighting. When I told his sister-" Dedede pointed at Chrom- "that I would fight in her war, if it happened, I didn't mean I would die as fodder. Yet, every opportunity you people get you slow us down. Next, you'll tell me to stand between your and an enemies sword."

"Careful, Dedede," Chrom tried to caution.

"No, Prince. I will be getting what Dreamland needs." Dedede was starting to shout. He marched up to Flavia and jabbed her in the stomach, managing to push her back slightly as his finger made contact with her armor. "Are you going to help me or not?"

The room went silent. Chrom could see weapons being drawn around the room. All eyes were on the Khan. Flavia looked around the hall quickly, her teeth bared. If she wanted, Chrom realized, she could have her warriors descend on Dedede in an instant.

"Get out of my hall," Flavia snarled.

Dedede stepped back as if struck. He took another step, and looked around the room. He could see the discomfort in the eyes of many, and the desire to hurt him in others. The Waddle Dees were all looking to him scared, even Bandana Dee. With a huff, Dedede marched to the doors. The hinges protested as he forced them open. The doors closed hard, reverberating throughout the hall.

Flavia glared at the door for a moment, and everyone watched her, waiting for her to do anything. When she finally turned away from the door, her frown deepened.

"This is a feast, so feast!" She ordered. Festivities continued, if a bit more shakily than before. Flavia collapsed into her chair and pinched her nose. "I shouldn't have acted out like that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Chrom agreed. "If it makes you feel any better, it went about as well when I met him."

Flavia nodded, the hint of a smile crossing her face.

"You see the kids anywhere?" Flavia asked. "I need them to do something for me."

---

No matter how much he tried to make sense of it, Dedede couldn't justify how he was being treated anymore. Meta Knight, were he here, would advise him to be patient, he knew. The King could practically hear him. A part of him was surprised when he turned around to find the knight wasn't there, grumbling at him and scolding him for his 'poor temper.' What did he need to be polite for anyway? It didn't get the Halberd running any faster, did it?

He decided that the best place for him to be was anywhere that was not in the Arena, not near that useless Khan. He had stuffed a pouch of gold into his pocket - payment from Ylisse, in exchange for some of the colorful fabrics that had survived both the crash and all of the ramp to tent building over the past month - and wandered into Qashliq itself.

As he passed by tents upon tents, he wasn't sure what he was looking for. A number of vendors were selling straight out of their carts, whilst others had stalls set up poking out of their various tents. One man even had the his name stitches into the tent. Clearly that guy was doing something right, as more people were waiting to talk with him than at any other tent.

Some of the merchants cried out to King Dedede as he passed, and he wasn't shy about telling most of those to buzz off. Others stared at him in wonder, clearly intimidated by his kingly presence. The rest just didn't notice he was there, the blind idiots. Maybe blinded by his presence? Nah, that might've been reaching.

After much wandering, there was a glimmer of light. One tent, one with the wares on display, did manage to catch Dedede's eye. He approached the glimmer, and the crystal he found reminded him of home. The little light out so late reflected off the crystals in a multitude of color, appearing to even light up the area around the tent. It's edges were perfectly trimmed, with not a single rough edge on it. Dedede was nervous to touch it, lest he ruined it.

He was most scared that he could ruin the shape, though. In five directions the gem of a star jutted out, each end having enough of a point to cause someone harm. Even besides its beauty, the star brought back memories of another time, in another world.

It was an easy decision to make, throwing open the tent flap. The merchant was sitting inside, balancing golden coins on a scale. As soon as Dedede enter, she perked up. A cheery smile overtook her face and her red ponytail bobbed with her as she's told up.

"Hi! Welcome to the Secret Shop. How could I help you today?"

---

Robin was fighting again. He knew this part of the fight well enough, he fought it almost every night. He knew when the sorcerer opposing him and Chrom would strike. He knew when he and Chrom would strike. All the same, they threw our their spells just like they did every night. Sometimes he would see more of the fight, sometimes less. Time in the dream never matched up with reality. The battle didn't last more of then twenty minutes, just the four... Five of them.

He hadn't noticed it the first few nights. He'd only seen him, Chrom, and the sorcerer. He'd heard another voice, who's Thunder magics far surpassed Robin's own. In time, he had caught glimpses of this creature, the one who called itself Raichu. He looked like Pikachu, but larger with orange fur. His tail flailed around like a whip with a thunderbolt at the end.

The last time he had seen the dream, Robin had noticed the fifth combatant. Well, in a sense. He hadn't seen them. He felt its presence though. Magical balls crashes into the ground around them from above, from his flanks, from behind. It wasn't dark magic, it'd didn't radiate the same malice as the sorcerer's spells. Robin wouldn't be an expert on such things, but if he were to describe it, it would be as if somethings very being were being thrown at him. He'd originally thought these attacks to be the sorceror's doing, but enough observation made that a clear impossibility.

The magical orbs never hit him though. He kept on his toes, barely paying them heed. Somehow he knew that beating the sorcerer would still stop this other opponent. Chrom needed his help.

This was normally as far as he was ever able to see. Raichu would catch the sorcerer off guard with a thunderbolt, throwing him against a pillar. He would burst into unholy flames, likely a side effect of the sorcery.

And then Chrom would clap him on the shoulder, saying, "It's over. You carried the day."

Something seemed off tonight, though. The images seemed clearer than normal. Most nights, even though a part of him knew it was a dream, it still felt like he was in control. Like every motion was his own. Tonight, he was a spectator through and through. He knew the last part, how the dream would always end when he got this far.

"This isn't over, damn you both!"

The sorcerer was on his knees, a spell conjuring in his chest. Robin's eyes shot open, the shock coursing even through the part of him that knew it to be a dream. He didn't know this part, he hadn't seen this part. A blast of dark fire was catapulting towards Chrom's back and he had to MOVE-

Robin took the shot in the chest, throwing him to the ground. Chrom was standing before he had the chance to breath. Robin didn't dare to look at his chest, he could've guessed how he looked from the burning.

"Raichu!" The orange mouse appeared at his side. Chrom had run over as well, offering him a hand.

"Are you alright?" Chrom demanded. Robin mustered a meek nod, taking Chrom's hand in his hand. His head aches more than his chest. He blamed the stone flooring. Chrom turned back to where the sorcerer had been, and saw nothing but ashes. "That's the end of him. We can rest easy now." Robin's friend - no, Commander. They hadn't become friends, just... coworkers? - turned back to him with a tired smile. "At long last."

When the smile was returned, Robin the spectator was reminded that this dream wasn't giving him control tonight. He felt everything though. He felt Chrom's arm around his shoulder, and the burning where he had been hit felt very much real.

And when the stab of pain struck his skull, threatening his every thought, he would have toppled over even if he was in control. The world turned red.

"What's wrong?" Chrom's voice seemed so distant that Robin could barely hear it. But an overwhelming desire built up in him, one that the Robin in control hoped to act on. It wasn't hatred, or malice. Those he could've understood. It felt like the logical thing to do. How could he not do it?

Robin the dreamer wanted to scream, and shout at Chrim to run, to kill him, to do anything but be near him.

Chrom's concern was voiced in the close to his face, yeti sounded as though it were a world away. He grabbed Robin by both shoulders, and started to shake him. "Hey, hang on-"

The lighting pierced Chrom like a blade, going through his armor into his stomach. The electricity was almost solid as it exited the back of Chrom's cape. Chrom's eyes hung open wide, and Robin saw the life leaving him slowly.

"This is..." Chrom stumbled backward. "This is not your fault," Chrom promised. Robin the spectator wanted to believe him.

"Promise me Robin... Promise me you'll escape from this place."

Chrom fell to his knees, struggling to stay up despite the pain that marked his every breath.

"Please... Go."

Dust kicked up off the ground as Chrom fell, staining the cape which had somehow always been pure white.

"Rai...?" Robin turned to face his companion. The mouse looked confused, his ears hanging down low. An unfit servant, the one in control deemed, and snapped his fingers. A shadow fell from the ceiling and took hold of Raichu as Robin turned away.

He walked towards Chrom's body, grabbing the wooden shield that Chrom had adorned. Five gems were loosely embedded into the shield. He heard Raichu cry out in pain. Robin didn't look. Part of him was scared what he'd see, but the him in control didn't care. He approached the altar. The heat on his chest didn't compare to the fire that engulfed him at the table.

The last thing that Robin the dreamer saw was six eyes. The last thing he heard was laughter that wasn't his own.

...

"Pikachu?"

It was an innocent sound, clearly colored by concern. Robin was already sitting up when awoke, cold sweat clinging to him. Yeah... That was something he was going to have to try and work out. He'd been having this dream so often, only now to finally find out how it ends. He had some kind of issue, that much was clear. Perhaps he could find someone back in Ylisstol that could help him when they returned.

Were psychics a thing? It felt like another of his half memories, so he wasn't really sure.

Pikachu looked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. One ear was lowered curiously whilst the other stood straight and tall. For a short moment, Robin could've sworn Pikachu had orange fur and a long serpentine tail, but when he rubbed his eyes he saw Pikachu as he knew him.

"Just a dream, Pikachu," Robin assured the mouse with a smile. He patted Pikachu's head. "Don't worry about it."

Pikachu narrowed his sagging eyes. Robin figured he must have woke him up in his sleep. A glance at the other bed told him that it was thankfully empty, just like when he had fallen asleep. His head was pounding out of his skull, and he felt like he hadn't slept at all.

Robin was distracted from his rumination by what sounded like boots against the floor outside of his door. The same door that burst open moments later for the man Robin had just killed. No, that was the dream...

"Robin, Virion, wake up!"

Chrom's order held enough sway that Robin's thoughts dispersed, and he was out of bed in an instant. Chrom himself still looked tired as well. The Prince had bags under his bloodshot eyes. His armor had been hastily thrown on, and the shoulder piece was obviously not secured properly. His hair stood up in odd directions which ran contrary to how relatively uniform Robin was used to seeing it.

"Dammit, where's Virion?" Chrom demanded.

"Uh..." Robin struggled to remember. "I think he was... Entertaining one of Flavia's servants."

Chrom grimaced. "I don't have time to find him. Get dressed, and get to Flavia's greeting hall immediately. If you know where Virion is, get him too. If not, we will be leaving without him."

Chrom's cape of pure white flourished as he quickly turned back to the hall to leave. Before he could even take a step out Robin shouted after him, "Wait!" Chrom turned back impatiently as Robin demanded, "What's going on?"

"Dedede has been taken," Chrom answered darkly, running out into the hall.

---

The only two things in this chapter that survived from what I started a month and a half ago are the opening scene with Roland, and the exchange between Lon'qu and Flavia. Before the chapter split, dealing Dedede's kidnappers was going to be the second half of this chapter. Popo was going to barge in, crying his eyes out he saw someone take Dedede. Whilst I didn't hate this idea, it forced the chapter into an awkward pace where Flavia's celebration wouldn't really even happen, nor any of the characterization that came with it. This is the biggest reason that this chapter took so long, as that iterations was only 'thrown away' about three weeks ago.

Besides delays, I'm also a bit concerned about how I have been writing characters whilst they are experiencing negative emotions. Take for example, Dedede's outbursts, both here and in chapter 2. As the writer, I can't help but feel like it comes across as a bit too 'angsty,' which is not what anyone thinks of when they think of King Dedede's character. Egotistical, gluttonous, and antagonistic, yes. Those are Dedede. Angsty, though?
This might be me being my own worst critic, so I'd like some thoughts or suggestions on how to improve in those suggestions. As nice as it would be, I can't just keep writing everyone as happy all the time. That wouldn't really mix with... well, spoilers.

As compensation for making you wait, I gave you guys the rest of Robin's Premonition scene that was glimpsed in chapter 4. Originally the 'big reveal' here was going to be the conversation between Meta Knight and Emmeryn. However, it's been too long.

As this is a two parter, I can't really discuss everything without having both parts out yet. I do have the first few scenes from chapter 9 started from when they were still a part of chapter 8 here, so - knock on wood - it hopefully won't take as long to get that out. They just need to be edited for the new context from this version of ch. 8.

The only other thing I wanted to mention is that I have been making more plans for the future. Whilst I know about how I want the endgame of 'The World of Dragons' to look, getting there is another story. Immediately, I've got ideas for how the give Pokemon as much attention as I've given the Fire Emblem Awakening cast and the Kirby cast thus far. I've also made plans for when the story gets away from Ylisse. Plans for your Smash mains, for the supporting casts of their games, and for integration of the various worlds. You'd be surprised who has the most notes on them so far. I definitely can't go into that now though.

But I've rambled enough. These author notes feel like half my word count, don't they? See you for Chapter 9: Unfounded Revenge.