(A/N) Uuuh, hello! I'm still alive. As you may have guessed, I was/still am super busy. I started Uni when the previous chapter was posted and my program isn't soft with us. (I can have up to 5 projects due per week). Then during Summer I had work, which got rough at the end (there was a hold-up). I intended to post this chapter back in September but Uni slapped me in the face again.

And the worst thing (confession time) I was still unsure how I would approach the story. I had the beginning, ending and a few key moments planned but no idea how to link them properly which led to a rough writing (I usually write better) and many writer's blocks.

But good news, I now have the plot and since the semester still isn't over I won't have the time to write (and Final Fantasy XV is coming out too) so I decided to review everything I wrote until now so it can follow my canon.

Meanwhile, enjoy the new chapter and sorry for the wait.


The moment the water washed away the grease off his skin after scrubbing it furiously felt like a blessing and he half-wondered if he would make the water froth with all the filth he was washing away. But he couldn't care less with how heavenly that bath felt, even if he wished he could have gotten colder water to soothe the blaze inside him.

It was early, the first rays of sunlight hadn't even kissed the horizon yet, but he could no longer stand the blistering hot cocoon his bed covers had become nor the damp mess he made of his mattress. Whatever had struck him the day before during his training had yet to recede and that blissful relief seemed to be far away. Though the exhaustion that had seized all of his muscles had gone from the pitiful rest he had in his bed, it wasn't the case for the hot fire coursing through his veins. The throbbing heat had rose to his head somewhere in the middle of the night, making him feel like his skull was trampled by the entire plegian cavalry. And the itching! He felt like scratching his skin raw. Unable to stand his discomfort, he had pulled himself out of bed, struggling against the covers glued to his sweaty skin and made his way downstairs, to the baths, snatching an early-riser servant to prepare the water for him.

So there he was, simmering in peace, unconsciously scratching at the irritated skin of his hand. He let his head thud against the rim of the in-ground tub, taking a deep breath. He realized he had slipped away into a blissful daze when the doors crashed open behind him. Robin jerked awake, choking on the bit of water he accidentally breathed in while slipping off the ledge of his seat.

Blinking away the droplets clinging to his eyelashes, he noticed the silhouette towering over him, their shape cut against the golden light of the rising sun, now peaking through the arched windows.

"A-Aversa?"

Robin hadn't seen her since she helped him sneak out and he was surprised to see the expression displayed on her face, an emotion he never saw targeted at him before: simmering anger, completely livid , like she could storm through Ylisse right at this instant. He felt a cold wave of fear when looking at her.

"Why didn't you tell me your father would leave for Ylisse?!"

Ah yes...something his father forgot to mention to his own son too. Robin only learned of his departure at dinner with his Circle: the man had been called at the frontier again in the middle of the day, after Robin's robe fitting. And what was so urgent he felt the need to leave without warning him? Had the war progressed that quickly or has something major happened.

"I'm as surprised as you are, Aversa." Robin growled, rubbing his temple against the migraine that flared again viciously. "And could you please close the door?"

She huffed and went back to slam the doors shut with a bang.

"So what about our deal?" Robin felt her sitting behind him on her haunches. "I'm still waiting for my payment."

Robin grimaced and shimmied deeper under the surface, water up to his chin, currently conscious of how little foam was left from the soap floating on the surface. But in her eyes there was no intention to tease him about his state of undress.

"I've been thinking..."

"That's all you've been doing ain't you? Thinking." Aversa growled and Robin bit his lip. He couldn't really deny it, but...

Think of something!

"I've been thinking about creating a controversy about one of the generals. If I'm such an important figure, the people should care about my opinions."

"...you just pulled that out of your ass just now, didn't you? she drawled, unimpressed, and Robin weakly chuckled at the truth of it.

Aversa sighed and dipped her fingers in the bath, quickly pulling them out, frowning.

"Why were you in need of a cold bath like this? Had some steamy dreams?" She smirked then at Robin who rubbed his face tiredly only to have his hand replaced by Aversa on his forehead.

"When did you become a furnace?" she questioned after a lengthy pause. "Caught something?"

Robin groaned, Aversa's fingers feeling like ice against his feverish skin.

"Told you that leaving the palace was a bad idea. You don't know what kind of filth is down there."

Robin shook his head. "No I didn't catch it from down there, just pushed myself too hard lately." Aversa frowned, clearly not buying his excuse, but he couldn't mention anything about the dragonstone currently hidden among his pile of clothes, about the bad reaction he had about pushing too much magic through him. Robin had resigned himself to slack off on his training for a few days to rest and also practice the Sermon he had to give at the upcoming Grand Mass. A Sermon which thankfully wasn't as long as the others the previous years.

"Whatever", Aversa drawled, sitting back on her haunches "But don't you feel disgraced hanging out with the peasants?"

Robin shrugged, picking his loafer and scrubbing his shoulders, the itching made him cringe. "No, and I have my reasons for returning."

"Returning? You..."

"Father isn't here, I'll take full advantage of that. So I'll require your help once more."


Still uncomfortable as he remembered and he feared that his dingy costume was starting to smell from having being shoved into the darkest pit of his wardrobe. He'll have to find a way to slip it into a maid laundry load and get it back somehow.

But the thrill of his second escape eclipsed the chaffing of the hand-me-down uniform. In the distance, he recognized the small outline of the Prancing Mares. More quiet than last time he's been there: the performers seemed to already have finished their number and the few customers were talking in ushered voices, bent over their drinks. The atmosphere felt quite familiar to what hovered above the palace. He wondered if Validar's departure with a few troops was also responsible the gloomy feeling down there and he was now more fascinated than ever.

He was about to enter when there's a crash behind him, just behind the corner, a loud yell multiple angry voices. He could see the customers peek through the windows and some had the courage to press their faces to the dusty glass trying to catch a glimpse of the scene.

"Oh yeah? You want to arrest me? Go ahead, a cell is better than the rat shit we're living in down here!"

That voice, Robin recognized it. Jarl. The lone man was wrestling with two guards and clearly losing, the clear amount of alcohol in his system not helping at all.

As much as Robin was still sour at the comments the man had thrown at him the last time, he could not deny that such a loud-mouthed character might be his best bet to learn what was happening in the slums and not the rosy version they fed him at the Palace. Hoping he wouldn't regret his decision later, Robin approached the scene.

"What is happening here sirs?"

The guard who had the butt of lance raised, ready to strike across the crumpled man's skull halted, furious eyes now aimed at the hooded figure that stood before them completely unimpressed.

"Military affairs are none of your business, civilian!" he barked, spit almost flying out his mouth, now threateningly jerking his weapon at the Hierophant who scowled in outrage. "Go on your way!"

"Is that so?" he drawled as he advanced a few step but had to stop when the second guard raised his lance too, dropping the dazed man on the floor who then struggled to pick himself up. "But I could've sworn I heard through the vines the army marched out not long ago." Robin mockingly wondered, pensively tapping his barely visible chin. "What would you two good soldiers be doing here, back at the Capital? Oh!" He clapped his hands in apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were just patrolmen...my apologies."

The affront was evident on their faces and almost comical.

"Does this man insult our army?" Robin gestured at Jarl who now looked at him with distrustful eyes now that he recognized his voice. Robin didn't wait for the guards' response. "No need to act so defensive about our troops. No mere tongue lashing could make them crumble. They've already seen and heard worse."

The second man guffawed. "We still can't let rascals run their mouth and have their vile thoughts fester across the Plegia."

"Still quite certain they wouldn't be bothered by the words of a drunk man."

"And what makes you so certain."

"Mmm...connections mayhaps?" he smirked at the now surprised look on their face, but the first guard then grunted. "Alright, alright. You realize that poor us guards have a small reward for every arrest, don't you? That's gold to help us feed our hungry families. But you know, we could let this slide," -he motioned at Jarl- "If we agree on a price." he said, eyeing the Fell's mantle where he surely hid his gold purse under the garment.

"So you want a bribe?"

"Yes."

"And you ask for a bribe, an illegal activity, to a person who has connections to your boss?"

"..."

Without any more words to the soldiers, Robin turned to Jarl. The man looked ruffled; old clothes askew, hair stuck in a mess from the scuffle and a bloody lip and nose.

Once the soldiers had disappeared in the distant shadows, muttering angrily to themselves, Robin extended a hand to the crumpled man with a sigh. Jarl replied with a glare

"You...you wanna play hero now? Tsk..." he snapped, ignoring the offered hand and shakily got to his feet. "You made your allegiances pretty clear, ass kisser."

Robin bristled at the insult under his hood, retracted his hand back under his mantle and watched the man trying to wobble back into the shadowy streets, back to where he resided, snapping at those who still ogled him through the window.

The Hierophant didn't get it. He showed mercy, offered help and complete utter dismissal is the reply? Was that the standard politeness down here? Ingrate...

"I want to speak with you."

"Kiss my ass!" He drunkenly shouted over his shoulder.

"I lied about my connections with the army," The Fell lied. "I can offer you another drink too."

He saw a grimace twist Jarl's face and a hateful stare thrown at him, but he could see the hesitation in his eyes.

Wordlessly, after a long glare exchange that stretched forever he grunted and walked back inside, lured by the promise of a free drink and Robin followed Jarl to a table of his choice after ordering drinks from a disgruntled barman who whispered a few warnings of "don't ever do that again", "don't bring the soldiers' attention onto my business", which he mostly ignored

He plopped down hard on the free seat, spilling half of his ale -not that he minded too much, the shorter the suffering, the better-. Jarl's face still looked like he caught a waft of a rotten wyvern's carcass.

"Gimme the drink, but I'm warning ya, I ain't gonna be swayed by your brainwashed sermon about your glorified lizard."

Robin sized him with a long stare and gave him his drink.

"Why won't you? I'm eager to know."

"What kind of rock have you been living under?"

Robin simply rose an eyebrow at that. "Enlighten my poor mind then."

"Uh-uh, I ain't gonna waste more time than necessary on someone like you. I just want to head back home after having such a lovely evening"

"If the guards butting in didn't ruin your "lovely evening", I'm sure you can spare me a few minutes."

" Nobody wants to risk their head for a casual conversation. Especially for a shady guy with an obvious allegiance to the Grimleal."

Robin felt the heavy weight of his stare upon him and he now knew he had to lay himself bare to earn his trust. He briefly thought on giving up on him and asking someone else but the distrustful glances sent his way changed his mind.

Sighing, he pulled back his hood a bit, just enough for candlelight to lit his face. He felt oddly naked and vulnerable, letting strangers see his face He waited for a reaction, a spark of recognition , they somehow noticing the fell blood running through his veins, twisting his features into something alien.

"You a foreigner?" was the reaction he got from a confused Jarl. "What's up with your hair?"

Robin fingers itched at the hem of his hood. "I don't know, half I guess?"

"From Chon'sin?"

"Uh?"

"You got eyes like theirs."

Robin nervously laughed at the situation. So he did not really look odd after all? Just foreign, the good type of foreign. He could perhaps take advantage of that.

"I don't really remember my mom, so perhaps she was. But I remember she hated cities", Robin quickly made up. "Or at least that's what my father told me. I lived far away from civilization until recently."

"Tired of fresh air and freedom?" Jarl joked.

Robin froze, eyes lost in the vision of a reality that he could only vaguely imagine. If only he knew what freedom really felt like.

The skin of hands itched.