A/N: Again, thanks to those who reviewed. The feedback and constructive criticisms you guys give me never fails to lift me up.
Chapter 3
Even with the heat from the campfire, the cold air of Regna Ferox made Tharja almost completely numb. She would've never believed that there could be such low temperatures unless she experienced them for herself. Now that she had, Tharja vowed to never complain about the dry heat of her homeland. For all its faults, at least Plegia wasn't cursed by the gods with the evil white substance people referred to as "snow." The dark mage was convinced that it needed another name to properly capture just how menacing it was to life in general. This damnable thing must've been created by Gharnef himself, Tharja thought as she dusted some flakes from her cloaked shoulders.
But the worst part was seeing how some of the others were acting like a bunch of children. If she could start a fire in her tent, Tharja would've gladly done it a long time ago to spare her the image of Nowi, Lissa, Ricken and Vaike throwing handfuls of snow at each other. Tharja thought the Ylisseans had a strange way, maybe even extreme, of expressing their hatred; because to her, a death curse seemed far more humane than the torture they were going through. Their smiles and laughter confused her as well. She concluded that the world outside of Plegia had gone mad a long time ago.
She tried to make the fire a little more intense with a spell, but she unable to utter a single word thanks to her nonstop shivering. I'm going to meet my end chasing Robin, she thought, and yet I don't mind at all. With each passing day, she came no closer to understanding why she had fallen in love with the mysterious tactician, and she was starting to simply accept her feelings without any sort of justification. It made following him around and observing his dreadfully boring schedule all the more enjoyable. Sadly for her, the weather had made it difficult to keep up with Robin. She also did not want to wander too far from the fire, and was considering throwing herself at it to see if she could stop her pitiful trembling.
Tharja was thankful that her group had separated from the bulk of the Ylissean-Feroxi army. She would not have tolerated ridicule from the common soldiers had they witnessed her state. At least the few Shepherds Prince Chrom and Robin brought with them respected her privacy, or left her alone after she gave them one of her famous death-glares. However, it was getting harder for Tharja to send them away. At first she didn't understand why the Shepherds were so welcoming to her, but she suspected they were trying to lure her to a false sense of security. That assumption had been proven wrong after she realized that the companionship they were offering her was genuine. Nonetheless, she was not ready for such things. It was all too alien for her, and she needed time to adjust to how the Shepherds functioned.
Just like she needed to adapt to damnable chilly winds that started to blow slightly harder. She knew nightfall's nightmares were going to come before she fell asleep, if she could even manage to close her eyes. Tharja tried to recall memories of the nice heat in Plegia's dunes, but the only images that surfaced in her mind were scenarios in which she was embracing Robin for warmth… and affection. Those thoughts were pleasant and equally embarrassing. They did, however, serve as a nice distraction from the numbness that was spreading through her entire body.
She had lost herself in her own thoughts until Donnel banged his lance against the pot he usually wore as a helmet. Had the boy not been such so useful at gathering the ingredients she used in her hexes, Tharja would've turned him into a toad for bringing her back to reality. The carefree expression on his face did make her want to punch him in the gut, which she was unable to do at the moment.
"Welcome back, Tharja," he greeted. "Robin's been looking for ya."
Tharja found the will and strength to stand up in a second. Robin never sought her out. He would casually greet her if he could spot her on the rare days she did not use magic to stay out of his sight, but nothing more. The dark mage figured that she was just another soldier in his eyes, so hearing that Robin was looking for had lifted her downed spirits.
She couldn't ask where he was due to the cold, so she just stared creepily at Donnel until he got the message. By then, he had gone pale because Tharja had scared him with both her glare and dark aura that she usually kept in check. "Uh… he's… in the big," he gulped loudly, "meeting tent with Chrom and Frederick."
The only way the shivering mess that was Tharja could've arrived faster to her destination would've been if she had teleported there.
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The last time he saw Chrom with that grueling expression, King Gangrel had made his ultimatum to either hand over the Fire Emblem or let Emmeryn die. What Robin brought to his attention had been bad news that weighted heavily on the Prince of Ylisse. Chrom was barely acknowledging the fact that he would inherit the throne, so he was still getting used to the idea of having to make decisions that impacted millions of people. The way he desperately analyzed the map of the continent in the center of the tent was an indicator of him trying to look for a third option. Robin knew there was none.
"I'm sorry, Chrom," Robin apologized to get their leader's attention. "The best course of action is to return to Khan Flavia's keep and continue on with the preparations." Chrom rested his hands at the edges of the table and leaned closer to it. "It's not a matter of finding the most effective route. We just can't afford this campaign any longer."
"I agree with Robin, Milord," Frederick added. "He's been most responsible with our funds, but our resources are indeed running out. We should dedicate most of our efforts to dethroning King Gangrel.
Chrom sighed heavily. "You both speak of abandoning innocent people, and letting the die at the hands of Risen or bandits." Chrom raised his head to look at Robin. "I thought you said we could do this." Chrom did not sound disappointed or angry, but he did want an explanation.
"I said we had the means to secure trade routes and avoid people dying of hunger," Robin explained. "We can't visit every village in to check if they're alright."
Chrom lowered his head again. "They need to know that I stand with them."
Hearing him say that was like splash of cold water, for those had been his sister's words. "At some point we have to invade Plegia. Removing King Gangrel from power is still our first objective, is it not?"
"Yes!" he confirmed. "Can we go to Ylisstol? Surely we'll find all the gold we need in the treasury."
Robin looked at Frederick, who nodded. "It was sacked, Your Majesty. Feroxi scouts recently informed us that they took everything when they kidnapped the Exalt."
Chrom cringed at the mention of the attack in which the capital fell. "What about Regna Ferox? Can we ask them for the gold?"
"Flavia and Basilio have been most helpful to the war effort, and I'm sure they would love to aid us," Robin said. "However, Frederick confirmed my fears regarding their… economic issues."
"Regna Ferox is a poor nation," Frederick began. "They have too many warriors, not enough farmers and merchants. When they committed their entire army, they gave us all they have."
"I…" Chrom hesitated. "I can't make this decision right now. I need more time."
"I understand," Robin said.
"Of course," Frederick assured.
Chrom and Frederick left the tent, leaving Robin alone. He placed a little blue flag on the map. It was the spot they were currently in. We've barely made out of Regna Ferox and we're almost broke. The few villages they had visited were near the border between the allied nations, and Robin doubted they had all been Ylissean. Not that Chrom cared. He would help anyone who needed help.
Robin was going to leave as well, but a female figure in his way stopped him. It was Tharja, and she was grinning. Robin never thought that the smile of an attractive woman would make him so nervous and scared.
Although, the giggling she was trying to hide was the worst part, for it sounded sinister.
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Control yourself! Her head screamed after she noticed Robin had gone pale, just as Donnel had a few moments ago. For the first time in her life, she cursed her ability to creep people with just her presence. Tharja regretted running in without emotionally preparing herself for meeting him, not that she could've helped it. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, she stepped forward.
"You wanted to see me?" Gods, I'm still trembling! It was evident in her voice that she was freezing.
Robin's expression changed in a heartbeat. He no longer looked scared of Tharja, but concerned for her well-being. "For how long have you been like this?" Robin took off his cloak.
"I'm alright," she lied. Tharja was touched by his gesture, and she wanted the cloak. At the same time, she could not allow herself to have it. The dark mage knew she was capable of never returning it.
"Are you sure?" Robin insisted.
"Yes, a hex just went wrong." Tharja prayed that he wouldn't insist any longer. She could not lie for a third time.
"If you say so," he said as he put his cloak back on. "I was indeed looking for you." He pulled out a pouch from his pocket. "You didn't pick up your stipend yesterday." He handed it to her. "It's not much, only fifty gold coins, but the Shepherds never had much money to begin with. We started out as volunteers, because Ylisse has no formal army to protect her from bandits."
Tharja didn't care about money; she didn't even know she was getting paid! She was content with some food and a few hours a day of following Robin. While the reason he was looking for her was not a grand one, Tharja was happy that Robin remembered her. It was a start – not a great one, though. Not having anything to talk about, she inhaled deeply and prepared herself to leave.
"I've also been meaning to give you this tome for some time, but you're a hard woman to find." He took out a book with a purple cover from a nearby sack. "I'm aware the quartermaster has given you only elemental tomes. That's because you're the only one who can use dark magic. Before you came along, we had no reason to have a tome like this around." He gave the heavy book to her.
It was a Flux tome, the most common and easy dark spell to cast. Her deranged uncle wrote dozens of these whenever he needed money for his experiments, and she – a novice – had come close to finishing one. It was certainly useful, but not a great thing. But this particular one was special because he had given it to her. No one had received such a thing from him except from her, which made it the most prized possession she ever had. Tharja couldn't believe she was so happy over such a common spell.
"I… thank you." She pressed it against her chest like a mother would do with her newborn baby. The ironic thing about the situation was that Robin expected her to use it in battle, which she was going to avoid out of fear of depleting its magic. That would result in the book turning into ash, something she did not want since it was a gift from him.
"I bought that a few months ago thinking I could read it," he said. "It turns out that I can't understand a lick of it."
Tharja found something odd about what he said. "You thought you could use it?"
Robin scratched the back of his head nervously. "That's right, you don't know." He sighed. "I don't like keeping secrets from the Shepherds, and you are one of us now. Still, I ask you to keep this to yourself for the time being. I don't want the Khans finding out. Their faith in us may waver."
"I lost all of my memories," he explained. "There are a lot of things I don't know or understand, but I'm catching up as fast as I can. As for my abilities, they've surfaced as time went by. I knew I could use magic after my first skirmish with some bandits. I just didn't know if I was capable of using all types of magic."
If the subject had not been so grave, Tharja would've enjoyed the how Robin trusted her with a secret. But she did not. She was angry. It didn't sound as if Robin's condition had been self-inflicted, meaning someone had harmed the man she cared for. She wanted to destroy whoever did this to him. Disappointment at herself also came with the anger. She did not know how to cure whatever he had. It was certainly not a curse, for she could not sense one in him.
A scary thought struck her. Do I love the man in front of me… or whoever he used to be? There was no way she could know if this was the same persona after the incident. Tharja quickly shook that worry away, knowing it was unproductive and maybe even baseless.
"Well, I have to check our inventory," he said. "Just between us, right?"
"Of course!" Tharja exclaimed. "I would never betray your trust," she said sincerely.
He smiled at that. "Thank you."
When he left, Tharja found the resolve to follow him around despite the hellish cold. She needed to understand him more. She wanted to know how an amnesiac like Robin could face war the way he did. She wished to find a way to help him.
