Off topic: Hey people, here's the third chapter. As it has been uploaded rather quickly, there will be some grammatical errors, as well as typing errors. I will get around to fixing them. By the way, I apologize once again for a short chapter. It seems like it is much easier for me to write in this format. I really think that I succeeded in that conversation between the two main characters, as well as conveying the nightly ponderings of Robin.

Redemption

The price of forgiveness

Did the world hold something for him anymore? Chrom was angry with him, his wife was devastated and only gods knew whether Morgan wasn't secretly the same. Some mess he had managed to make, and the worst thing about it was that he could do nothing to undo it.

Robin cursed himself and turned over in his bed, towards Lucina. The darkness of the room would have hidden many of her slender features, had it not been for the fact that Robin had been rolling in his bed restlessly for hours; his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness long time ago.

How he wished that his conscience had been the same; that it could bear the darkness of the past and face future without any hesitation. But he wasn't like those weak persons that became strong. No, he had been strong, but these dreams and his guilt for striking his friend had weakened him to the point that he could no longer be called the same man, that he was during the war.

The war… Robin didn't ever want to go back to it; however, if there was any chance that he could find his past self from the terrors of slaughter, would he participate in it again?

Robin feared in his heart that the answer to that question would be affirmative.

Such were the fears that troubled him on that night, and there was no moonlight that could have given Robin its cold consolation. The chill in the room was twofold, the air was actually cold in there – because he wasn't sleeping closer to Lucina – and then there was the ever present fear of nightmares, holding his heart with its cold-clawed grip. Robin could feel his insides twist and tingle, as if some unknown force was out for a stroll inside his body. He turned to face the wooden ceiling again. It is over now, he thought. All possibility of reconciliation with Chrom is impossible now. He had run out of tears long ago, but the emptiness was still there, hoping to be filled with something, anything, that would give him peace.

Robin heard steps outside their room. Who could be out this late, in his own house? And then three silent knocks landed on the door. Apparently Robin would soon find out about their mystery quest. Or his mystery quest, as Lucina was still in deep sleep. She had been depressed the whole day and was extremely tired.

As Robin kissed her forehead he could hear her mumble something; "Don't... no Robin… again… lost…" Robin could see that Lucina had a strained expression, one that didn't quite fit a sleeping person. He embraced her and whispered to Lucina's ear; "I'll be back; remember, I promised that I would never disappear on you again." Lucina's strained face softened at his words, and she let out a satisfied sigh. How she did it while sleeping, Robin would never know.

He walked to the door, and opened it. Chrom stood there, silent, his face a paragon of seriousness.

"Come outside. I need to talk to you", he said shortly, and walked away with steps that were more silent than they had been before. Robin followed him.

After all, how could his day possibly become any worse?

It was cold outside. Robin was starting to regret that he had not dressed up appropriately for the weather. Strong gusts of wind blew at them, and past them, threatening to topple Robin down by pure force of will. That was something that Robin had never understood about wind mages. They had this idea about wind being a persona – or a creature - that could not be manipulated. According to them it could only be beseeched for help. Makes me see Ricken in new light, Robin thought. Apparently the boy wasn't gifted in magic as much as he was talented in groveling. Alright, that's too bitter.

Robin stopped – more by a force of habit than anything else – at the edge of the one-sided cliff. It compassed the entire northern part of the hill, making it dangerous to raise any children here. Not to mention the laundry that wind gets its grubby mitts on.

The view was worth it though; there was the mountain pass that lead to Regna Ferox, and forests that were located on the both sides of all highroads, and then a river flowing down to Plegia territory. This place lacked nothing.

Robin gazed far beyond his field of view, not noticing approaching Chrom before he said Please be careful to him. "We cannot afford you to crash down like a wet sack of sand."

"What can you afford me to do then?" Robin asked, rubbing his jaw. It was still feeling sore after Chrom's punch.

"That depends on the result of this conversation", Chrom answered.

"I have seen enough in my lifetime to see where this is going", Robin marked sarcastically. In his opinion this conversation wasn't going anywhere. But Chrom wasn't a quitter.

"So, tell me Robin", he said, "what kind of passion of yours will be fulfilled by going to Valm? Is it all about being successful - in war or every other thing- or are you perhaps trying to become the king of Valm?" Robin could hear sarcasm in his voice, and somehow that hurt him even more than his punch ever did. He would have started to question his own snarky attitude, but Chrom gave him no time for that.

"Are you trying to ensure prosperity and peace, live through assassination attempts and political maneuverings, only to find out that the most important thing had been in your hands all along?"

Chrom started crying, and Robin felt extremely uncomfortable. He couldn't stand his strong friend appearing so weak and vulnerable.

"Chrom…" Robin said, unable to voice his own thoughts as he had none. His mind had blanked out.

"Tell me Robin!", Chrom demanded of him, "What did we fight for? Was it for freedom, or perhaps justice? Equality? Peace? Life without threats here and everywhere?" Chrom's strained voice broke down, and he cried out shamelessly, without feeling shame. The wind kept it's pressure on them, it's air cold and freezing. However, neither one of them actually noticed that right now.

"Wasn't it for the moments like we had in the war camp, for moments like the one we had today at your table? Moments with free laughter, made possible by the trust between friends that guarded each other's backs for years through the worst of all wars? Wasn't if all", Chrom asked, "so that we could have another day together, and keep enjoying each other's company?"

Robin turned his back to his friend, hiding his face from him. It had become a storm of emotions, and he was unable to keep a tight leash on his emotions anymore. Chrom's words had struck home.

But they still didn't change anything.

"Those moments of laughter", he said, "will never make me free of this quilt. Guilt of seeing your chest smashed by lightning bolt of my own creation, my mind screaming of the deed done and my very being vibrating with regret, before turning into something much, much darker."

"That wasn't you Robin!" Chrom shouted as the wind blew harder. He grabbed Robin's shoulder. "That was your future self, not you. Let the matter already rest, I forgave you a long time ago!"

"But I didn't!" Robin shouted. "I couldn't forgive myself, and how could I, when I see what I did to you every night, and each time turning into a malignant force of darkness that destroys everything that I once loved! Into Grima!"

Chrom was taken aback by Robin's words, and he could not offer his friend any consolation whatsoever. The depth of his friend's problems was something that Chrom himself had never had to deal with. He did not have any answers, as Chrom's way of solving a problem involved punching, slashing or stabbing. He wasn't by any means a brute; it was just that those maneuvers usually fixed all of his problems. However, now that Chrom was facing his friend - a treasure of unbelievable worth to him - the whole thing was grating on him. He couldn't even punch Robin to help him understand that it was all gone. It wasn't even Robin that had done those horrible things. The past should have stayed in the past, and future should have never affected the present moment again.

Robin, what should I do? Chrom was so accustomed to asking help from the tactician, that the question molded in his head even without his own participation to any of his own thought-processes. However, this time he couldn't ask Robin's help, as the tactician was the problem. Or rather, his past was the problem. Actually no, wasn't it his future that was the source of all this trouble?

Anyway, there was only one way left that he could use to solve this problem; the most dangerous way.

He decided to do it by the sword.

Robin could hear how Chrom's steps moved further away, leaving him alone to wonder about things.

He wasn't in the mood to ponder about things, as the emptiness inside him felt too suffocating. There were no thoughts to be had; only silence and wind prevailed.

Or it would have been silent, if not for the shouts coming from the house.

"Have you gone mad? Don't do it, Chrom!" The shouter was Lissa. Her steps followed another set of feet down the stairs. They seemed to be running.

The oaken door opened again, Chrom's muscular silhouette blocking the doorway for a moment. Then he ran towards Robin. Lissa had also made it to the door and shouted at the tactician.

"Robin, run!"

What is this, some kind of bad joke?

It didn't feel like it though.

In one quick movement Chrom drew Falchion from its sheath, and stuck the blade between Robin's ribs. No flourish, no fancy moves. Just a blade dripping blood that was unmistakably Robin's.

This is what my fate should have been, Robin thought, sliding slowly down the blade. Finally, after a moment that felt like a piece of eternity, he crashed down to ground drained of his strength.

Lucina, he thought, grasping at the last strand of his disappearing consciousness. Numbing quilts of blackness were laid upon him one by one, till he finally slipped into the darkness, never again able to feel life and satisfaction.

It had all been for nothing, this Redemption.