Beneath the Threads
IX.
Robin stood at the table in the tactician's tent. A map was sprawled along the surface, the forces of Plegia and Ylisse represented by two different colors of chips. The way Plegians set up their strategies was a little different from Ylisse's, or rather, her and Chrom's methods, but she caught on quickly. She wanted to find a way to outsmart the Plegians, to maneuver them in such a way that gave Chrom an opening right under their noses, but she couldn't think of one. In order to do that, she'd have to find a way to warn him of her intentions, but there was no way to do that. She pressed her palms to the table. She really had no choice but to do Plegia's dirty work. To try and get them to hurt her comrades.
It had been another week since her initial meeting with Gangrel, pushing her time captured to three weeks. Her seventeenth week of pregnancy had come, and with it, a slight increase in her overall discomfort. She figured it would only get worse as time went on. She was quickly approaching the halfway point of pregnancy, and there was no sign of Chrom. She wondered what would happen if she had to give birth under Plegian control, and the thought made her more nauseous than her night sickness.
Her palms were face down on the table as she leaned over the map. Gangrel had put through rigorous mock scenarios to prove her worth, and luckily, he was pleased with what she produced. Now she had access to the actual set-up of the Plegian and Ylissean forces. She ran her fingers over the location of the Shepherds.
"A seat for you, my lady," an assistant said from behind her. Robin had been assigned one person to help her with her strategies, a young male with a stern stare. His physique put her edge, but then again, everyone at the camp did.
"Thank you," Robin said as she sat. Pressure immediately loosened in her lower back. She said.
The assistant pulled up a chair and sat beside her. He cleared his throat.
"My name is Arthur," he said quietly.
"Robin."
After a moment of silence, Arthur grabbed her hand. She flinched and snatched it away with a glare in her eyes. Arthur shook his head.
"I need to show you something. It'll help you with your strategies," he said. He grabbed her hand again, this time with a tighter grip, and flipped it around to the palm. He started tracing on it slowly.
Robin followed the lines he was placing her skin. She caught something akin to a half-moon. He moved upward and drew a teardrop shape. Tears filled Robin's eyes. It was the brand of the exalt. He was a spy.
Arthur stood and pointed to the map. "I have the location of the Ylissean forces." He moved blue chips around. "They seem to be stalled out in the west sands. The number of units is currently unknown." He drew on the map with his finger. Chrom coming. He sighed and shook his head. "The Ylisseans are fools to take this route, they know our militia can navigate the sands better than anyone in the world. Use this against them." His finger spelt another message: Make opening.
Robin wanted to burst into tears, but she held it back. She had to set up the battlefield with an opening inconspicuous to the Plegians. Arthur was going to relay back every move Robin made to Chrom. Her mind began racing as she devissed her plan. She spoke back to Arthur to keep up their act.
"It'll be easy to topple the western part of the army. The Feroxi are here, and they are the least accustomed to the sands. They were not be able to handle Plegia's skilled tactics."
Arthur nodded. At the end of night, he spelt out one final message on the table: Chrom loves you.
Robin swallowed her upset. She pressed her finger to the table and traced out the first message of her own: Chrom, I'm okay. Arthur nodded and smiled with reassurance. Robin quicked wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
"Chrom, the measly prince, will quickly get the message of defeat," he said triumphantly.
Robin nodded, spelling out Thank you on the table before they returned to their tents for the night. She slept easier knowing Chrom was on his way. It was only a matter of time.