Beneath the Threads

V.

The sun in the Plegian desert was brutal. It had taken them three weeks to get in the position they were in. Gangrel had continued his threats and his taunting, and a few small armies here and there were fought in the haze of the sands. They were moving in him, it was transpiring slowly, but it was surely happening. Robin had continued coming up with strategies and plans as she spent her time in camp. No one questioned when she was removed from the battlefield, most agreeing that she did need a break, and it would be beneficial if she spent her time cooking up new scenarios. Perhaps Chrom was right. Maybe the war would end sooner this way.

Robin was fourteen weeks along, and within the time it took to get from the castle to the desert, a small, rounded bump had protruded from her midsection. She didn't want to think about what it would be like if it got any larger while they were in the sands. It was easily concealed, but the stickiness of the desert heat made even carrying a small bump uncomfortable. Chrom was elated, and it seemed to Robin that his favorite activity after battle was slipping her into his tent and running his hand along her stomach. She figured it gave him comfort in the harsh times, a steady hope for a positive future, and an extremely personal reason to keep up the fight for peace.

Though Chrom was elated, the change in her physique also made them both more nervous about her presence within the Shepherds. Maribelle was still the only other soul who knew, and she offered solace in the times Chrom couldn't give it to her. She took a special interest in following Robin's progress, saying it was a good opportunity as a healer to observe a pregnancy week-by-week.

Chrom insisted that she stay in either his or her tent while he wasn't at camp. The Plegians were not a force to be reckoned with, and the kidnapping of Emmeryn was still fresh in both of their minds. She agreed, and in that time, poured over countless books, and wrote down strategy after strategy.

However, what Chrom didn't understand was that she often needed to retreat into the women's wash tent. Her bump was starting to press on other organs, or so the books said, and it caused her to have to use the restroom more often. Every time she had to slip out of her tent, she carried her sword and a tome in hand, just in case anything occurred. Her heart pounded with the thought.

On a day where most of the army was away, Robin worked on her plans. She felt the telltale sign, as she usually did these days, and grabbed her sword and tome. The camp still had a few soldiers, but not many. Everyone was needed in the fight, so the few soldiers protecting the camp were spread thin.

And of course the women's wash tent was on the other side of camp from Chrom's.

Robin slipped out of the tent and walked as fast as she could to the women's tent. She did her business and freshened up. She sighed and ran her hand along her bump. You've already been through so much, little one, and you're not even here yet, she thought. The camp did get lonely at times during the day, so knowing there was another presence with her all the time was comforting, if not nerve-wracking.

She walked out of the tent and made her way back across camp. She didn't run into another soul. Robin clenched her teeth. Where were the guards? Chrom wouldn't leave the camp soldier-less, especially not with her there. The grip around her sword tightened. She had almost made it back to her tent when she heard snickering behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Well, well, who do we have here wandering the camp all alone?" a voice said behind her.

Robin's stomach lurched. She knew that voice, but she didn't dare turn around. Her breathing labored, her fears rising in her throat. She subconsciously held her tome in front of her bump, as if it could protect her child from what was behind them both.

"Those soldiers were easy pickings. One snap of the fingers and they fell to the Risen like dominos," another voice said, this one more feminine.

Gangrel and Aversa. She couldn't take on even one of them by herself, let alone both of them.

"Turn around, girl. Or should I say, Ylisse's lead tactician?" Gangrel cackled.

Robin turned around slowly. She came face-to-face with the two she suspected of being there. Her chest constricted, and her breath was fleeting. Tears bubbled in her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. She couldn't show fear to them, no matter how scared she was.

"Drop the weapons," Aversa spit.

The sword and the tome fell to the ground. Robin couldn't find words to say to them. She couldn't jab at them, maybe is she were alone, but she wasn't alone. She had her child with her. Her anger couldn't put them at risk. The secret had to be concealed the best she could managed for as long as possible, now more than ever.

"I wonder why you've been lurking around the camps instead of facing us head-on. I know your feed them strategies. You'll tell others to fight but you won't yourself. What are you, a coward?" Gangrel said. He stepped forward. Aversa followed.

Robin bit her tongue. Aversa laughed.

"She must be," she said. "Who else would just sit around all day like she does? Look at her now. She knows better than to fight us."

"She couldn't take us on alone. Maybe she's clever enough to realize that."

"No matter. She'll make excellent leverage."

"You're right. Would you like to do the honors, Aversa?" Gangrel pulled out a thick rope and dangled it in the air. Avera grabbed and walked up to Robin.

"Of course." She snickered and yanked one of Robin's wrists. The binding was tight around her hands as the blood drained from them. Gangrel grabbed one elbow while Avera grabbed the other. They lead her out of the camp and away.