AN: I dunno why, but I think I did rather well on this one. Feel free to prove me wrong. I've got my fire retardant suit, and I want to hear all criticism. I wrote this in a sorta depressed mood, so if anything seems a bit much…Heh, yeah. Anyway, without any further ado…
Chapter 20
~ The Old Dude and the Skimpy Ten-Year-Old~
"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU DIRTY OLD PERVERT!" Nowi yelled. Behind her was Gregor, as expected. We watched from the window as Grimleal appeared, making an attempted to cut them off.
Gregor called after her, "Oi! Gregor is just making with the assistance! Not trying to hurt little girl!" As soon as we all saw them, we hurried out of the fortress and to the dunes below.
"RAPE! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!"
By the time we got down there, Chrom and Frederick were already there, the former of the two yelling at Gregor. "Get away from that delicate little girl you brute!" Gregor looked over at my lovely dork, appalled.
"Gregor no brute! Gregor is having innocent baby face!" The baby face in question had several wrinkles and now had an eager grin spread across it. The Shepherds nearby all seemed to sweatdrop while he stood proudly. That was until Chrom unsheathed Falchion and leveled it to Gregor's neck. Knowing the outcome, I quickly ran over, placing a hand on his arm and forcing it down. He lowered his sword, but just barely.
I sighed, saying, "He's all right. He's the kind Grimleal mercenary that let me go when you were…" I decided to avoid embarrassment for him, "…incapacitated the other day." I smiled, turning to the mercenary. "Hi, Gregor!"
Gregor nodded his acknowledgement, and then shook his head. "Gregor is no Grimleal mercenary… Not after what Gregor saw what beasts do to little girl… And others in camps." Others? Could he be referring to Noah's theory of concentration and breeding camps? It wouldn't surprising because ninety-nine point nine percent of the time he was unfortunately right. That left no room for anyone else's rationale, except for those who have the brains to compete. I'm going to give you a hint: Not me—as much as I hate to admit it.
"Could you lead us to these camps so we may help these innocents?" I asked.
Gregor looked like he was about to say 'yes,' but then remembered something. "Gregor needs help with eensy problem first."
"You refer to the Grimleal that are chasing you and your friend here?" By friend, I meant Nowi. And I use that term lightly, taking into consideration what exactly she was wearing and just how old Gregor looked compared to her despite their ages being quite the opposite. By Grimleal cultists, I mean our old friends who want to kill our new buddies.
"Pretty lady isn't only looks, Gregor notices!" Gregor let out a hearty laugh that was cut off when Chrom stuck Falchion back onto his jugular.
"Do you want to die?" he growled.
D-Damn it, Chrom. Don't turn me into Bella, please.
"You don't need to kill the guy for stating observations..." I said, trying again to divert the sword from our future comrade's neck, and this time I succeeded; he let his arm go limp. "It's just what—never mind. Just don't kill him. He can be trusted; he let me go after all."
"Gregor thanks you, pretty lady," the mercenary chirped, falling into a defensive battle stance in front of Nowi. Said manakete had just taken her dragonstone out and looked like she was about to assume dragon form. Chrom simply remained silent and faced the battlefield, Robin and Frederick coming up behind them while Lissa tailed them with Noah. Miyaji and Dylan had paired up and took to the left of the battlefield, bow and sword drawn respectively. Cordelia, looking very, very unpleased, had paired up with Brandon. Violetta circled the sky near Frederick while Dusty rode flew above Ricken. Rei was in the backseat of Stahl's horse, holding a tome precariously over her head as Stahl drew his silver sword. Those were all the Shepherds I could see from where I stood next to Chrom, Robin and Frederick.
"That's a lot of Grimleal…" I muttered, sizing up our enemy. There were echelons upon echelons of soldiers. We weren't prepared for this. All of our forces were still within the Feroxi border, at their forts, training with their army and clergy. Robin had intended for us to go through the desert undetected, but now that seemed implausible. We had caught their attention, and now they would send their best our way. To kill us. To kill our company. To kill the royal family.
"Yes, but we're a lot of Shepherds. They may outnumber us twenty to one, but we've got this. After all, I am the Master Tactician." Robin was being supportive in his own way; being his smug, bastardy self in an attempt to boost morale. And, I guess it worked, because I felt super confident.
Chrom cracked the first smile I had seen from him in a while; Emmeryn's capture had weighed on him so much, that he had seemingly lost the ability. I can only fear what will happen when she dies. "Of course," he said. "The best godsdamned tactician Ylisse has ever seen. What's your plan?"
"We're going to wing it!"
…
…
…
"The best godsdamned tactician Ylisse has ever seen, my ass." I muttered, glaring at Robin. "You—honestly—don't have a damn plan? What the hell, Robin?" Robin shrunk under my glare, making me feel extremely badass, and appeared to shake in his boots. Wow. Did my glaring powers grow overnight or something? That normally only works on Rei or Lucas. "Well?"
The tactician composed himself, sighing. "I can't really have a plan if THIS IS AN AMBUSH!"
"Well, screw you then."
"Oh, really? Hah, sorry Ms.—"
"Can you two stop bickering?" Chrom interrupted, making us both jump. We faced him sheepishly and raised our arms in jaunty salutes.
"Sorry, love!"
"Sorry, Chrom!"
The prince let out a sigh and accepted it as it was; his tactician and girlfriend were complete dorks. But not as complete of dorks as he was, though he would never admit it unless I dragged it out of him. "Right…" he said, turning to face the battlefield once more. Robin had already ordered the other Shepherds into positions before starting this conversation, and now they were engaged in battle with the Grimleal that had surrounded us. Everyone was fighting, but us in fact. "We should join them, rather than chat, don't you think?"
"Heh, that'd be the right thing to do…" I drew my sword and ran at the nearest Grimleal, striking him hard across the chest. The mage let out a yelp and jumped back, clutching his chest as it oozed red, sticky blood. He raised his tome, charging a spell. Spells like those hit hard, and hurt. And with my poor resistance (as I've come to discover) that would most certainly injure me very, very badly. With no other options, I ran forward before the magic could finish charging and raised my sword for the kill. I brought it down ever so slightly…
And stopped. I couldn't do this.
The mage smirked, grateful for how bad I had choked. His spell was just about done charging—and in that moment I knew that I'd die. I'd never been this sure about something in my life. The close range and strength of the spell would rip through wherever it was heading—my chest, according to where his hands were. Death. It would come. Most definitely. But it would be quick. …Is that what I want?
I don't know what I want anymore.
I let my sword fall to my side and closed my eyes to accept it—I knew I wouldn't make it out of there in time, no matter what tricks Aquarius pulled—but it never came. A yell sounded from behind me and soon the mage was on the sandy earth; Falchion was sticking out of his thorax as blood pooled around the body. He was dead. Dead as a doornail. Stifling a gag, I looked away. I'm not going to say blood bothers me, because it doesn't, but when it's this close and this graphic...
"Erin!" Chrom had pulled Falchion from the man's body, sheathed it and now had his hands firmly placed on my shoulders. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" That is the question, isn't it? What is wrong with me? I've been around war for almost two years, yet now I can't kill a man. In truth, I never had. I had always relied on someone else to deal the final blow. And if I did kill someone it was by accident. "You could have died there! Don't you ever…" At this point I had stopped listening, going off into my own little world like I always had when I was yelled at, scolded or mocked. I knew the whole premise of the talk I was getting. It was a cliché thing that had happened in various movies and stories. Don't be reckless, don't throw yourself into danger, be careful, be strong, and kill people. KILL people. That's the problem.
I am simply unfit for war.
With this anxiety.
I'm inadequate.
I'm lost.
I'm a terrified little girl in world of war, death, and love.
And death was predominant.
"Erin."
Chrom had stopped yelling his head off at this point, taking a calm approach.
"…Chrom. I'm scared." I swallowed hard, trying to grab hold of my words and emotions before they left me. But apparently, my mouth and mind did not agree as per usual. "Of everything. This war. And death. I…I don't want to lose anyone. I don't want to kill. I don't—" He brought me into a hug, and it was in that moment that I realized that I had been crying. Crying like a wimp; like someone unworthy; like someone who should be replaced with someone stronger. As I clutched the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, letting all the fear and shame force its way out, the battle raged on around us, but far enough away that we would not be maimed.
After what felt like hours, Chrom spoke again, trying to bring comfort in the best way he could. "It's going to be all right. We'll all be fine. I promise you." There he was, always with the needed response. With only those simple words, I felt infinitely better. "You do not have to kill; just don't put yourself in danger like that again." And much like he had the perfect words, he also has the unfortunate ability to unintentionally say the wrong thing.
"How can I survive, if I cannot kill? How can I hope to be of any use, if I cannot get rid of enemies?" I pulled back, and glared up at him stubbornly. I probably looked like a wretch; eyes all puffy, hair frazzled and matted with sweat, clothes torn. I must have, or I would not have felt so shitty.
"You don't need to, because I'll keep you safe."
He'll keep me safe.
Safety is not something that is guaranteed…
But this makes me believe it is.
And yet…
"I don't want your focus to be on keeping some useless—Mmph!" This time it was not a hug that stopped my sentence, but a chaste "Shut the fuck up" kiss. Did he seriously just…? The dork smirked triumphantly and silently went off to kill more shit. I stood in the same spot for maybe ten more seconds, my face gradually heating up as I realized what had just happened. "Hey! DON'T JUST DO THAT AND RUN AWAY FROM ME, YOU PRICK!" I raised my sword with new strength, except it wasn't a will to fight, but to slap that cocky smirk off his stupid face.
"They were here…" Gregor said.
The Grimleal were a joke; we finished them off in under twenty minutes and had gone off to find the camps that Gregor had mentioned. Their so called echelons upon echelons were mostly made of poor farmers (Plegia has farms, apparently), slaves and artisans in the lower class. This could have meant either of two things: They have sucky soldiers in general, or their strongest force is at the castle awaiting our arrival. I wish the former were true and knew that the latter was. Plegia is no joke, and Gangrel shouldn't be abusing his power like this is one.
I glanced at the rundown camp. It wasn't an ordinary camp that had several rows depicting status, title and rank; there were stalls rather than tents and the outskirts were guarded by a crumbling cobblestone wall. The only entrance had been a gate, and that was long gone, only the lever remaining on the wall. According to Noah, who had scouted the area and come back pasty white, the stalls that we would have presumed to be filled with horses or equipment, were filled to capacity with women. The max amount of persons for it to be still considered safe was about fifty. There were three hundred in there.
"About a quarter of them are pregnant," Noah said, having recovered some color, "and another quarter are unable to travel due to wounds."
Wounds. These women must have fought real hard to acquire those injuries. No one tortures a willing woman.
Wasn't there some sort of magistery on the border? Perhaps they would help us if we asked? I looked over to Robin, voicing my thoughts. The tactician shook his head and said, "That is a dark magistery, and they probably have many graduates that go straight to the Grimleal."
Mages…? Gods, Erin, you doofus. That's the wrong word.
"It wouldn't surprise me." Aquarius spoke up for the first time that day, which was surprising, considering how much of a chatterbox she could be. "I believe the word you are looking for is monastery."
"I know, Aquarius…Gawds…" I said mentally, not even caring that I had pulled a Severa.
"Uh…." I ran a hand through my hair sheepishly. "That was the wrong word…I, uh, mean monastery. Do you think the Ylissean monks would help?" Chrom shook his head at that, going on to say that the Plegians had gotten rid of them. How he knew this, I did not know, but it made sense considering how hellish things have become. Perhaps I should see a priest for my diagnosis…
"Of course nothing is easy…" I muttered, glancing to Robin to see if he actually had a plan this time.
Robin did indeed have one, but it was one that would be cutting it a bit close. The whole premise of the plan was timing. That was really all that had mattered. After we retrieved the exalt, both Feroxi forces would attack Plegia Castle from the east and west sides, masking our escape. If we went with this new plan, which was as follows:
"…Maybe we can have the Feroxi armies rescue them and take them to Ferox for medical treatment?" Robin said, pausing as he thought of the plans validity. "Yes! That works! Then we'll have them loop around to the Midmire, move our escape route to that place and then we'll be homebound!"
That does sound reasonable, but it's also not. We need those extra forces. If they are not back in time, we will not survive this next battle. Those men Gangrel had sent our way were most certainly a subterfuge. "What if they don't make it back in time, Robin? Don't we need Feroxi forces to face Gangrel? Isn't our army not enough?" I asked the tactician.
"Actually, if the Feroxi were involved, it'd be overkill. If it were just the Shepherds and Ylissean army, we could take them easily." Robin seemed to be missing the point of what I was saying.
"No, Robin. I mean, don't you think that platoon of Grimleal was a machination?"
"Of course it was, but that also wasn't part of Gangrel's force," Chrom replied for Robin, explaining the situation in layman's terms. "The Grimleal are a cult; they may be Plegian, but they don't answer to the Mad King. True, they share the same cause: acquire the Fire Emblem." So wouldn't they want to work together? I'm sorry, but I don't understand. "That's where the similarities end. The Grimleal strive to bring Grima back to life. Gangrel wants every Ylissean dead, so he can take over. The Grimleal cause counteracts his own."
Robin nodded in affirmation. "That's basically it, though I admit, I wasn't expecting you to put all of that together so quickly and easily."
Chrom raised a brow. "How do you think that?"
"Well….Uh…" Robin became extremely awkward, sheepish even. "You're not considered the sharpest weapon in the convoy, if you get what I'm saying."
"So everyone thinks I'm an idiot?"
"N-no, it's just, uh, associated with being too, uh, nice and…trusting." Real smooth, Robin. Chrom sighed through his nose at this. "W-wait, I mean, it's…okay to b—"
The prince cut him off. "It's all right, Robin. I get it. Let's just continue on."
Robin cleared his throat, trying to cover up all his fuckups in the past five minutes. "Right…What if Basilio's group went to find the pegasus knights, and that will add to our forces. Then Flavia's can handle the camps."
"And what of the clergy?" I asked, making sure I had my facts right. "Where are they? They'll be key in your little plan, Robin."
"The Ylissean Clergy is in Ferox, with their forces," Chrom said.
"That will work," Robin murmured. "If we have our clergy stay here, and Ferox's go with the troops heading to the camps, everything should be evenly distributed. That is sorted, but the real question is: Where are the pegasus knights? They're clearly not in this camp."
Gregor, who had been silently listening, immediately jumped in as our questioning stares were turned on him. "Knights in separate complex. There are three of them. Gregor heard that the ladies were separated from the exalt so they don't make with the rescuing."
"And how strong are they?" Robin inquired.
"Gregor thinks fifty, one hundred strong."
"That would be one hundred fifty, to three hundred in total. The Feroxi forces have it easy." I said, referring to the epicness that was Regna Ferox. "Still. The knights are now crucial to this plan's success. If we were to go with this new plan, they'd arrive after the exalt—" dies. Thankfully, I caught myself in time. "…They'd arrive after we save Emmeryn."
"We could ask Basilio's group to find them. Flavia's can handle these camps," Robin suggested.
My dork shook his head. "But they have to take these ladies north."
"Then who will storm the base?"
I thought on that a moment, combing my brain for shit I read in books that worked. Or just overall gaming knowledge…Like in Pokemon Conquest, there were delegates. I told them that. "Perhaps you could send a delegate with a small group of soldiers and a healer to free the pegasus knights? A recon team maybe? To avoid encounters, they'd need to be trained in stealth."
Robin pondered what I had said. "Yes, that's sound. But who's to delegate and lead this stealth operation?"
"I could…" We all turned to face Noah. In all honesty, during our epic heated battle debate, I had forgotten his existence entirely. Does that make me a bad person? Probably. Do I care about that fact? Yes. Yes I do. "I've handled missions like this before, so if I had a small group of soldiers, I should be able to infiltrate the camp undetected and break out the knights."
"Sounds like a plan," Robin agreed pulling out a map and going over it with Gregor and Noah. The former was pointing out the camps that he had seen while the latter studied it, learning the path he would take and where said camps were. Frederick had sent the others to set up camp while we planned. It was in this time that Chrom had also decided that Lon'qu (who showed up in the middle of the night with a flock of moths), Dylan and Kellam would accompany Noah along with Lissa. That was a real surprise, but she was the only healer who wanted to get her hands dirty without a price (i.e. not Maribelle or Anna).
"That's not a very good idea, sending Lissa," I said after a while. "She might need some weapon."
"Yeah." Chrom agreed. "Perhaps a sword for her? Or a lance?"
"Eh, I think she's better off with a tome. She's a healer, and healers need to have an affinity with magic."
"All right, I'll tell Robin about that later."
…
…
…
"WHAT WAS THAT SHIT YOU PULLED ON THE BATTLEFIELD?!" It was at this moment that I remembered that I had been mad at him for something, and decided to yell it.
The triumphant smirk returned to his face as he looked down at me. "You wouldn't shut up about stupid things, so I did it for you."
"In the MIDDLE of the battlefield."
"To be fair, you were the one who broke down." I was the one to break down. And that could've gotten us both killed.
"…Right. And you were the one to save me. As usual." It was true, that statement. You didn't need to be a genius to know that was blatant fact.
"I'll always be there to save you. Always," that was all he said before he pulled me through the camp.
And I didn't care where we were going, I just knew I'd blindly follow him. Always. No matter what it would cost me. Because I believed in him. And loved him.
AN: And a-done! Phew. That took a while…Well, not really. Two days, if I hadn't skipped four. ^-^ Well, anyway. There it was ^~
If you would like to ask me questions, feel free to PM me, or Ask me on Tumblr. I figured I'd make one for this because it's certainly more efficient in my opinion. If you want to check it out, it's on my profile.
BTS:
Noah's recommendations to sign holders:
Rei: CALM THE FUCK DOWN!
Brandon: Okay. I get it. You like Cordelia. Why is that your only personality trait that I ever see?
Lucas: ...You hurt Olivia, you lose more than your life.
Miyaji: Buy a new personality. Try Walmart. They sell everything there.
Violetta: I am sorry... Who?
Dylan: Are you the one who has been stalking Kellam? STOP!
Dusty: *See Rei*
Erin: You are okay. My only request is that you stop kissing Chrom in public. It makes me wanna throw rocks at you.
The love pentagram:
Frederick loves Lissa who loves Noah who loves Olivia who loves Lucas who loves Chrom who loves Erin who loves Rei who loves Dusty who loves pie who loves Stahl who loves food in general who loves Sully who loves Kellam who has a Harem who loves Libra who loves Cabbage who loves Libra.
Chrom and his various Love interests.
Chrom X Sumia:
Chrom: MORE PIE!
Sumia: Chrom, do you think you gained a little weight?
*Chrom the Hutt.*
Chrom: No...
Chrom x Sully
Sully: Chrom?
Chrom: Yes?
Sully: I have something to tell you.
Chrom: Yeah?
Sully: I am actually a Lesbian.
Chrom x Olivia
Chrom: Hey I just met you.
And this is crazy,
But you're a Dancer,
So have my babies.
Olivia: RAPE RAPE RAPE!
Chrom x Robin
Chrom: So we saw each other naked.
Robin: Yup.
Chrom: You wanna get married?
Robin: NO YOU PERVERT!
Chrom X Maribelle
Maribelle: You know how you got drunk and had sex with me last month?
Chrom: Worst mistake of my life. I had no intention of getting with you.
Maribelle: I'm pregnant.
Chrom: Bitch say what?
Cordelia X Chrom
Cordelia: Hi Chrom.
Chrom: Hello Cor- Can you please just stay awake for two seconds after I talk to you?
