AN: I'm just going to awkwardly update this story now that I have some time to do so. It's been weighing on me for a while.
Chapter 11
In retrospect, it was perhaps foolish of her to think that she would not have to face the consequences of her actions. Although she sided with the victor of the war between Ylisse and Plegia, Tharja was still a traitor. Moreover, she was the only known Plegian to take up arms against her own King. No one would publicly mourn the loss of King Gangrel while the forces of Ylisee and Regna Ferox remained on Plegian soil, but plenty of the late monarch's allies still held power and would currently use it lash out against those they viewed as responsible for Plegia's defeat. Tharja's role in Gangrel's demise was arguably miniscule. The Shepherds would have been victorious regardless of her actions due to the joint effort of Chrom and Robin. However, bitter men would see Tharja and the deserters punished in some way.
For the least three weeks a group of religious figures and bureaucrats were holding trials for deserters. Chrom and the khans appointed a few overseers to make sure that everyone was treated fairly, which resulted in almost every judgment being a slap on the wrists. Thousands of soldiers abandoned their posts before Chrom launched his final assault on Gangrel's remaining forces. Even if these judges had the power to order executions, the sheer volume of people that they tried each day made it impossible to impose capital punishments on anyone. Most of the convictions involved some involuntary service to whoever would become regent or were shipped to the Grimleal for "repentance." Tharja's trial was coming up and she was anxious about it.
Tharja had nothing to fear. Her trial was happening because she mostly went along with it. Prince Chrom recognized her as a Shepherd, so she could not be ordered to do something because Plegia's enemies had essentially immunized her form their wrath. Although the judges could not impose any particularly harsh punishment, certain privileges could be stripped from her. On one hand, Tharja would not shy away from the consequences of her actions. On the other hand, Tharja dreaded the fact that she had to deal with her brother as a result of everything that had transpired since abandoning Gangrel's army.
As she stood, Tharja looked down on her brother who remained seated in one of his lavish throne-like chairs of their family's estate. He was clearly angry at her, which in turn caused Tharja to become uncooperative with him.
"I just don't understand," he said after breaking eye contact to look at the floor in frustration.
Tharja scoffed at him. "What's not to understand, Tarkus? You assured me that I would be able to carry out my commission without being involved in any battles, but lo and behold, Gangrel casually threw away the lives of the people in the unit you specifically picked out for me."
Tarkus sighed. "It's not fair for you to blame me. How was I to know that these Ylissean upstarts would manage to invade us?" He looked up at her again. "They didn't have a standing army less than a year ago." Tharja admitted to herself that she was being too harsh on her brother. After all, he wasn't the one who made it mandatory for every able-bodied adult to serve in the Plegian army for at least three years. "Tharja, I don't blame you for looking out for yourself. I would have done the same if I had been in your position."
"Then what is the problem?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
"The problem is that you insist on…" he paused for a moment. "You insist on not portraying yourself in a favorable light." He slowly stood up, his black armor clanking due to the motion. "I just want you to tweak some events for your hearing in front of the Chancery Court." Tharja shook her head. "Tharja! He hissed in frustration. "I need you to help me if you want me to help you."
"I didn't ask you to come," Tharja stated calmly. The Plegian mage expected her family to disavow her in order to avoid scandal. However, the fact that Tarkus halted all of his trading operations to "help" her meant that her family still held an interest in her future, or that Tarkus himself was invested in her good standing in Plegia. Regardless of whether her family or just Tarkus advocated on her behalf, Tharja would proudly stand by her decisions. Defecting to Chrom's army was a tactical decision made out of self-preservation when the battle on the outskirts of Plegia Castle went in favor of the enemy. Originally, she planned to escape before her countrymen noticed that she fought for the Shepherds, but then she met Robin…
"You cannot pretend that you exist in a vacuum, Tharja!" Tarkus said through gritted teeth in an attempt to stop himself from raising his voice. "Your actions affect everyone in our family, especially me. All your experiments, I pay for them. You cause trouble, I sort it out. You betray Plegia, my loyalty is questioned!" Tharja could not deny that she never considered the implications for her family when she used her talents to fight her own people. A part of her knew that she took her older brother for granted. Not a single person dared to harass her because Tarkus and their mother were feared figures in Plegia. "I just want you to stand before the Chancery Court and say that you were captured. Tell them that you were forced to fight for them. Make up something that doesn't make you look like a traitor."
Tharja sighed. "But that is not what happened." She was honest to a fault. Although most people thought of her as blunt and abrasive, Tharja considered herself as a model for honest people. She despised lying. In her eyes, dishonesty was a sign of cowardice and an indication of lack of conviction. "I will not hide from what I did." Furthermore, Tharja would not risk Robin finding out that she spoke against him to save face.
"Even it means exile?" Tarkus asked grimly.
Tharja was visibly shocked by his question. Tarkus was a humorless man, so she knew his words were always serious. "How do you know that could happen?"
"Well… I happen to know one of the judges," he said knowingly. While Tharja used hexes and curses to get what she wanted, her brother was fond of bribery. The judge he spoke of must have been one of the hundreds of officials in his pocket.
"If you're friends with one of them, can't you be friendly with rest of them?" Although she didn't approve of her brother's methods, they were the least messy way of dealing with problems.
Tarkus chuckled. "You can thank your newfound friends for my inability to befriend the rest of the judges. The little prince absolutely refuses to oversee who is taking over Plegia. The bloody Chancery Court is now packed with Grimleal, which I don't associate with because they are bad for business. To makes things worse, the khans weren't satisfied with gold the sacked from the treasury, now they demanding that I give them everything I own!" In an instant, it all made sense to Tharja. Tarkus' world was crumbling around him and he was scrambling for allies.
She smiled. "Is that it? I'm no good to you as an exile?"
Tarkus looked displeased with her question. "You're no good to anyone if you die. What's out there for you?" He dramatically pointed east. "You will be shunned by everyone outside of our borders. Everything you are good at is considered taboo in Ylisse and the Feroxi have a habit of killing foreigners."
The dark mage wasn't swayed by his words. Although Tarkus spoke the truth, she knew he veiled his interests by trying to strike fear at her. "I was offered a position in the Shepherds. Even if I am exiled, I have something to fall back on." Truth be told, exile would be devastating for her, but she would not allow her brother to have power over her.
Tarkus looked more perplexed than angry by her statement. "The Shepherds? Why would you want to join them? They can't compare to what mother and I can offer." Tharja cringed and mentally kicked herself. He slowly walked towards her. "Why would my little sister want to join a band of Ylissean misfits?"
"If the alternative is serving crazed kings, then that band of Ylissean misfits seems better by comparison," she said trying not to sound nervous. Tarkus began circling around her like a vulture. Tharja hated when he did that. It was an intimidation technique he picked up from their mother.
"Gangrel is dead," he simply stated. "You don't have to fear a second conscription. No, they must have something you want. What could it be?" She remained silent. If Tarkus had half of their mother's dark powers, he would have been able to probe her mind for the information he wanted. Regardless, his deductions skills were dangerous enough. "Are you religious now, Tharja? Are you seeking to repent for your sins by serving the Exalt." Tharja scoffed at the idea. "No? I didn't think so either."
"Maybe I was moved by the Exalt's words," she lied.
"Don't insult my intelligence! Even you admitted to joining Chrom's army before the Exalt jumped to her death. Thousands of Plegians stopped fighting for Gangrel, but only you fought back. Why?" He paused. "It was very noble of you to fight Mad King Gangrel. Such noble gesture is unlike you. It's almost as if you're under some… spell."
"Don't be ridiculous! You of all people know that I cannot be controlled by magic," Tharja said, feeling indignant at the suggestion of being weak-minded.
"No, but you do act on impulses." Tarkus smiled knowingly. "How utterly disgusting! You will throw away everything for some infatuation?"
"W-what? Stop talking nonsense!" She stuttered. Tharja couldn't let her family find out about Robin! They wouldn't be able to appreciate how special he is. It would be disastrous if any of them found out about his dormant dark powers.
"Mother is going to love this!"
"No! Not mother!" Tharja exclaimed in an uncharacteristically terrified way.
"Will you comply?" he asked, finally stopping to face her.
Tharja felt ashamed of herself. Despite her bravado and rebelliousness, Tarkus found another way to control her actions. "I don't want to lie."
"And maybe you won't have to." Tharja looked up to see her brother's smug grin. "Can you grant me an audience with Prince Chrom?"
"I will see what I can do."
XXXX
As far as Robin was concerned, leaving Plegia was harder than overthrowing King Gangrel. The Mad King had been defeated nearly two weeks ago and somehow the Shepherds became the strongest source of law and order in Plegia. Until a new king or queen was elevated to the throne, Chrom had unofficially become the pseudo-ruler of Plegia. Some of the nobles back in Ylisse flooded Chrom's desk with letters demanding that he annex the whole country. Although Robin remained quiet on the subject, he secretly agreed with the nobles, but for different reasons. If Plegia were annexed, or at the very least ruled by someone friendly towards Ylisse, then peace between the neighboring countries could be achieved on a long-term basis.
There was one problem: Chrom. The Ylissean Prince had taken a hard stand of not involving himself in the monarch selection process. According to Chrom, he thought Emmeryn's words must have changed the people of Plegia to such a degree that only a peaceful king would be allowed to rule. Although that was what Chrom told anyone who asked, Robin knew that the truth was that Chrom feared becoming like his imperialistic father by nominating and appointing a successor to the throne of a foreign country.
Moreover, Chrom, Frederick, and Robin were aware of another possible problem. It was questionable whether Chrom had the authority to be making decisions that only the Exalted could make. Some of Phila's remaining Pegasus knights claimed that Emmeryn chose a successor before being captured by Gangrel. However, it was unclear whether it was Chrom or Lissa. In confidence, Chrom admitted to Frederick and Robin that he thought Lissa was Emmeryn's chosen successor. After all, Chrom was quick to resort to battle, while Lissa was more like their elder sister. Chrom was fine with the idea of Lissa being the next exalt. He was just trying to be careful not to undermine her if it turned out that she should be the next one to lead the people of Ylisse.
For the moment, Chrom was stuck hearing pleas from the common folk of Plegia, while Robin and Frederick found ways to carry out his orders. As the sun was setting, Robin finished writing his eighty-seventh writ that day, which involved ordering a local militia to protect secluded farmlands form raiders. There was certainly a feeling of impotency when he wrote orders as opposed to actually defending the farmlands himself.
Frederick entered Robin's temporary office in Plegia Castle. For the first few moments, the knight simply looked around with a sheet of paper and a quill on his hands. "Can I help you with something?" Robin asked after a long yawn.
"My apologies for the intrusion. I just thought I would find her here?"
"Come again?"
"My headcount shows we're one person short at camp: Tharja." Frederick smiled. "Naturally, I thought she would be somewhere close to you."
Robin rolled his eyes. If a man as humorless as Fredrick was taking jabs at him because of Tharja, then the rest of the Shepherds must be a nightmare to deal with. "She's not here. I already checked," which was becoming a habit of his. The tactician's eyes widened in shock just as a realization struck him. "She's missing?!"
"Apparently so," Frederick concluded. "I will have scouts looking for her."
Unsure as to what was the protocol for a missing Shepherd, Robin followed Frederick, whom exited the room at a fast walking pace. Part of Robin wanted to sprint into action and give the orders himself, but he wouldn't know how to since that was Frederick's job.
By the time they reached the Shepherd's camp, Robin and Frederick spotted Tharja being escorted by two armed scruffy-looking men. Just before entering the camp's perimeter, Tharja turned around and dismissed the escorts with a lazy wave of her hand.
"That's one mystery solved," Frederick said calmly.
Robin was instantly relieved to see that she was unharmed. "Did anybody see her leave?"
"From what I've gathered, people generally avoid her altogether. With the exception of you and I, nobody keeps track of her activities." Frederick sighed. "To answer you're your question, no, no one saw her leave. I'm mostly convinced that she's not an enemy, but this is still a security breach."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Mostly?"
Frederick smiled. "Yes. I'm also fairly convinced you're not a Plegian spy." Somehow, Robin felt Frederick trusted Tharja more than him. "Should I handle this, or do you want to talk to her?"
"I'll do it." Tharja was still a stranger to Robin. Regardless, he knew that she responded better to requests rather than authority.
"Very well." With a nod, Frederick left Robin to deal with Tharja.
From a distance, Robin could tell that Tharja noticed him heading towards her. She began the most ungraceful display of tidying up he had ever witnessed. Tharja frantically combed her dark her with one hand and tried dusting sand off her cloak with the other. She then adjusted her headpiece and opened a dark tome in order to pretend to be reading it.
"Hello, Tharja," he greeted.
"Oh, Robin. Hi," she said casually, closing the tome and pretending they just bumped into each other.
Robin felt a little tongue-tied. Speaking to Tharja was like trying to walk through a field of broken glass with no shoes. He wanted to be sensitive about her affections towards him and also be nice without leading her on. "I was worried about you."
Robin immediately regretted starting with those words. Tharja slightly blushed and looked down. "You were? How very thoughtful. Nothing bad happened to me today." She quickly scanned the area around them.
"What are you looking for?"
"Oh! Just being careful. After all, some shadows have eyes."
Ignoring her cryptic words by writing them off as part of Tharja's strange personality, Robin continued. "You were missing. None of the Shepherds saw you leave camp and then you suddenly show up with those men escorting you."
Her gleeful attitude was gone as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry to have troubled you. I was occupied with… family matters."
Robin's stomach felt like it twisted into a knot. By the gods! This must be terrible for her. Robin figured that the last time her family heard from Tharja was when she fought in Gangrel's army. Now Tharja returned as a member of the conquering army. She certainly didn't look pleased, so Robin assumed that something terrible happened between Tharja and her family.
Robin almost wanted to forget about her disappearing from the camp without a word after realizing that she was probably facing her own demons after coming back home in this way. "Tharja… I'm sorry. This must be so difficult for you."
Tharja scoffed. "It's always difficult with him."
"Is there something I could do?" Robin thought to offer his help since Tharja didn't seek the comfort from other people.
Tharja became visibly irritated. However, Robin was unsure why she became so angry. "I do have one favor to ask."
"Name it." At that moment, Robin was willing to offer up almost anything, even though she didn't look like she was aware of it.
"My brother, he's been denied an audience with Chrom for the past few weeks. He would like to plead directly to him, if possible." It looked like it took all of her strength to say those words.
Robin had expected something else entirely. He was somewhat shocked that she didn't ask for something… inappropriate. "I can schedule what you want." Robin stopped himself. He was in charge of Chrom's schedule and he only denied an audience to people who sought Chrom's political favor. He inadvertently learned something about Tharja: she was not of common birth. "Yeah, come with me. I need a few more details."
