The dungeons under the palace are rarely used any more. Since the era of peace began, there is no need for prisoners to be held there. Any criminals are held at the police station, a small building on the outskirts of town, which has an adjoining jail of a good size. Fortunately, the crime rate of Ylisse is low, so the prison was usually fairly empty. The only crime that warrants being held in the dungeons is treason, and that's what the men Maribelle and Tharja apprehended are charged with.
"So," Maribelle begins, trying her best to be as intimidating as possible. Interrogation isn't her strong suit, and she doesn't really know where to begin. "Are you going to tell us why you were involved in an assassination attempt on the Exalt and his wife, or…"
"Or what?" One of the men spits, and Maribelle turns her nose up at him, swallowing hard.
"Or we'll have to use other means to get the information out of you," Libra says calmly. Maribelle is still shocked that he volunteered to help her with this, but maybe there's something written somewhere about priests being good at intimidation. "Unfortunately for you, torture isn't illegal in Ylisse."
"Are you not a man of the cloth? I'm pretty sure Naga says you can't torture people," another man shouts back, and Libra clears his throat.
"While I may not agree with the concept, I won't be doing the torturing you. And I can tell you; my wife is very adept at curses. I'd watch your back. Now, will you answer the original question?" He smiles threateningly, his face still a picture of calm.
"It wasn't an attempt on Exalt Chrom's life," the youngest says, and the others shoot looks of disdain towards him. "As much as we don't like him, we know better than to try that. We were giving orders for Lady Robin's life."
"What?"
"You heard him," the leader sneers, "We want the girl."
"How are you holding up?" Robin asks when Chrom winces going over a bump in the road.
"I'm okay. I'll live. We're nearly in Plegia, right?"
"Right. Just over this next hill, and then we'll have crossed the border. I'm afraid it's still a while until we reach the capital, though." Chrom sighs at this, resting his head on the back of his seat in the carriage. It's not often that they travel in the fanciest carriage- it's usually reserved for special occasions. But Chrom deemed meeting the new King of Plegia a special occasion, so Sumia groomed some of the nicer horses up and they pulled them to the border of the desert country.
"Are you nervous?" Chrom asks, his voice soft.
"I can't lie and say I'm not," Robin admits, turning her head to look out the window. "It's the first time we've set foot in Plegia since Validar died, and… well, the whole situation makes me pretty uncomfortable."
"Do you think anyone will say anything to you? About the fact that you should be their queen?"
"No. Well, I do, but I hope they won't. I know that technically, my rightful place is on Plegia's throne, now, leading them through peace just like you're leading Ylisse. But I know that where I want to be is in Ylisstol with you. Plegia… Plegia isn't really my home. I don't remember much about it, and I only really have bad memories of recent times."
"I don't blame you. Gangrel and Validar were both awful people. Apparently, way back when, Plegia used to flourish under Hero King Marth's reign, but that might be a story."
"He was from Plegia? But I thought that… is he not your ancestor? I thought he was the start of House Ylisse?"
"He might be. It's all so long in the past, and a lot of stuff hasn't been recorded," Chrom laughs, tying his fingers in knots. "But I heard from Emm once that there's a battlefield in Plegia that used to be his home. I suppose we'll never know, but it's something I'm interested in."
"I'm sure we can find out more. There's bound to be a wealth of resources here in Plegia, if it's true," Robin says, her eyes lighting up at the idea of getting to scour the Plegian libraries.
"We have more pressing things to deal with while we're here. Your enthusiasm is cute, though," Chrom smirks, and she pulls a face not unlike a frog.
"Did Maribelle give you an agenda?"
"It was Sumia, actually. I never thought she'd be this organized, but…" he roots around in one of his bags, and pulls out an envelope. "Day one: arrive in Plegia. Be met by the king. Tour of the palace. Dinner with high-ranking Plegian officials. Open air concert in the palace gardens."
"That seems like a lot for one day…" Robin says hesitantly.
"Nowhere does it say 'crown Robin queen of Plegia'," Chrom comments, and a smile comes back onto her face.
"Thanks for cheering me up," she says, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"Everything will be fine. I promise."
The streets of the capital are lined, three or four, if not more, deep with people out to see the Ylissian carriage pull through the streets. Chrom places a hand over his wound as they travel along the long cobblestoned streets, to the other side of the town, where the Plegian castle stands, tall over the rest of the town. They've been here before, riding up on horses and wyverns and pegasi, or walking along to the glares of the Grimleal. But the air in Plegia has changed. They're not welcomed with open arms, exactly, but a strange curiosity. Robin peers out the window, and sees people that look just like her- white hair, and tan skin, and the same inquisitive smirk that she knows is often on her face.
The castle looms out in the distance, and Robin turns her attention forward again. With his free hand, Chrom takes her hand in an act of solitude. She smiles, her eyes focused on the stone palace that commands attention on the skyline. The crowds are heavier towards the palace, and here, the people are more patriotic. They cheer as the carriage draws past, and Robin manages to wave out the window despite herself. The iron gates to the castle swing open, and the crowd disappears. The carriage halts, and the driver hops out, opening the door for Robin and Chrom.
She steps out first, wrapping her cloak around her tighter. She's abandoned the rest of her outfit in favour of something Maribelle described as 'more suitable for court', but little did Maribelle know that Robin had already put the infamous coat in the carriage. Her black dress under it is tight, but thankfully the bulk of the coat keeps her warm. Chrom steps out behind her, taking her hand in his once more. A few maids appear from the castle, and lead the Ylissian royals inside.
The king of Plegia stands in the lobby, arms open wide as a symbol of welcoming. His clothes are similar to those of the Plegian Dark Mages, except his cape is longer, dusting the floor as he walks forwards. The crown that used to rest upon Validar's head is now perched on his own, though his face is kinder. He's older too, by at least ten years, if not more.
"Welcome, Ylissians," he says, his accent thick and his words like honey.
"Thank you," Chrom says, taking a half step forward. Technically, according to old Ylissian laws of court, Robin should always stay at least one step but never more than three steps behind Chrom, but she had never paid heed to any of the rules laid out for her. "It's good to meet you at last. I know you've been ruling here for a while, but I haven't heard ill of Plegia in that time, so I assume you're doing a good job."
"Thank you. I aim to please my people and do what's best for the country. It's just wonderful to have you here with us, Chrom, exalt of Ylisse. My name is Campari."
"I remember you," Chrom says, narrowing his eyes. "You're the one who killed Emmeryn."
"Alas, I knew you'd remember. Truthfully, I only served Gangrel. I formally resigned after he was killed. I have no desire to worship Grima, so I'm turning Plegia into a democracy. I'm aware that aside from the Grimleal, there are very few supporters of the fell dragon remaining. Most Plegians were glad to see the back of Validar."
"You did still take part in the war, though. You killed our Exalt."
"And you killed Validar," Campari states blandly. "We each have sins to atone for, Lord Exalt. May I ask, who is this woman you bring with you?"
"Ah. This is my wife, Robin."
"A Plegian name? A Plegian girl, married to the king of Ylisse?"
"Yes," Robin says, putting her hands in her pockets to stop herself from fidgeting. "I'm from Plegia, although I moved to Ylisse a good few years ago now."
"Ah, you're that Robin. Validar's daughter."
"Yes. That I am."
"Sorry for your loss. Validar was a good man."
"The world will be better without him. I'm not sorry anymore. I'm the one who killed him."
"Well! Either way, we welcome you both to Plegia. Time for a tour, I think. Come, come. There is a lot of this castle to show."
By the time that Chrom and Robin sit down for dinner, it's clear that the Plegians aren't entirely happy with their presence. They are almost hostile, and Robin feels increasingly uncomfortable by the minute. They sit side by side at the dinner table, surrounded by only the most important of guests. Officials from the new government Campari is trying to set up are in attendance, as well as some high-ranking army generals, devoid of their usual armour. Falchion is still tucked by Chrom's side, as Robin's keen eye spots Campari's axe leaning on the other side of the table.
"Everyone, I'd like to propose a toast of prosperity to Lord Chrom, Lady Robin and the halidom of Ylisse," Campari announces, lifting his glass in the direction of the couple. The others mutter a word in Plegian that Robin assumes is an equivalent to 'cheers'. She smiles graciously, and Chrom nods solemnly. Food is brought out immediately after that, and small talk fills the air as they pick at their food.
"That girl looks awfully familiar," one general says, pointing at Robin, who pauses, fork halfway into her mouth.
"Excuse me?"
"You look familiar. You're Plegian, right? I mean, with that hair and skin, you can't not be!"
"Yes, I am," she confirms, and puts her food in her mouth as an excuse not to answer anymore.
"In fact, Lady Robin is more Plegian than you or I, good sir. She's of royal blood! Validar's daughter, you know the one that went missing seven years ago and turned up later in Ylisse as their tactician?"
"Yes! I remember now. So, you should be our queen and not Campari?"
"I mean… technically, yes. But I'd rather he was king in my stead. I have amnesia, you see, and remember very little about my childhood in Plegia. I have more memories, more happy memories, at least, of Ylisse, and enjoy ruling there. It feels more like home than Plegia does," Robin recites, a speech she's had prepared for a while in case this moment came to fruition.
"Yes, but if the bloodline is in you and your children…" another official starts, and Robin shrinks back in her chair.
"Lucina has the mark of the exalt, so she'll be ruler of Ylisse when I'm gone," Chrom says, and Robin breathes deeply.
"Do you have any other children?" Campari asks.
"No," Robin answers quickly. It's true, to an extent. Currently, there are no more children of theirs from this timeline. Older Lucina is dear knows where, although she will return some day. And they haven't heard from Morgan, so he could be dead for all they know. Robin doesn't like the think about this, but it's constantly present in her mind as a possibility.
"That's a shame. I'll make sure your name is recorded however, so that if you do ever have more children they'll be listed as heirs," the woman on Campari's left hand side says, pushing her glasses up.
"That's… very considerate of you."
"Your birth line is pure if you're truly Validar's daughter. You would have the mark of Grima, as would your children."
"I used to, but since Grima's death, it's gone," Robin says, increasingly more uncomfortable as this conversation drags on.
"But my dear, Grima's not dead! He lives on!"
"No, that's not possible. We killed him. Or, Robin did," Chrom confirms.
"No, no. He's died before, once, over a thousand years ago, and he was reborn shortly after, apparently."
"That's not possible."
"I said we weren't to talk about Grima at the dinner table! Not everyone here is involved with the Grimleal! Pardon us, Lord Exalt," Campari excuses, but Robin gets up from her seat.
"I don't feel well."
"Robin?" Chrom says, grabbing her hand.
"Finish your dinner, it's okay. I'll go lie down." He lets go, and she walks away, pushing the heavy doors open and making a point of stomping out of the room.
"See what you've done? You've scared off the Exalt's wife!" Campari says, glaring at the woman beside him.
"That's your wife?" The woman says, directing her question at Chrom.
"Yes. We've been married for five years."
"Well, that certainly says a lot about you. You must have a taste for vessels of Grima. She's going to become the undoing of Ylisse one day."
"What's your name?" Chrom demands, setting his knife and fork of the plate.
"Oh, don't you remember me? Hair dye really must change your appearance. I'm Aversa, Robin's dear adopted sister!"
Chrom attends the concert solo, and for once, he doesn't have to talk. In fact, silence is expected, as the Plegian National Orchestra plays their way through symphonies that Chrom has never heard before. He wasn't particularly a connoisseur of music, and neither was Robin, and his mind drifts to how Maribelle would've enjoyed it more. There's a solo violinist, who Chrom almost swears is Brady- the ginger hair gives it away- but he's not sure if Maribelle's future son has any connections with Plegia.
He shakes hands with the officials he met at dinner, who he will meet with in the morning for official peace talks. He thinks that he will be glad to leave Plegia, as just being here is causing Robin an unimaginable amount of stress. The comments about their children being heirs to the throne made him sick- another country was practically threatening to take their children away from them before they were even born.
A servant leads Chrom up the grand staircase to the room where he and Robin are staying, and leaves as Chrom opens the door. Robin is lying on the bed, spread out with a book in her hand. She looks over to him, and scrambles to sit up straight, closing the cover of her book. He sits beside her, one hand supporting his weight and the other reaching out for her face.
"How did it go?" She asks, and he struggles to find the right words.
"There wasn't much talking after you left. I'm definitely going to make sure this is brought up tomorrow at the meeting. I'm not having our children booked to be royals of a country that wants to use them to resurrect a dragon!"
"I think Aversa was bluffing," Robin says, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. "There would be some record in the Ylissian history books about the dragon dying before as well. That's hardly going to be just in Plegian lore."
"Wait, you knew that was Aversa?"
"What, you didn't? She just changed her hair colour. And she has glasses now. Her facial expressions, especially that sneer, are exactly the same."
"Oh. I guess you have more of an eye for that sort of thing."
"I think it's just because I'm so paranoid," Robin admits, looking down at her hands, tied in knots.
"Well, maybe your paranoia is good in this situation. I mean, you were right about them bringing up you being the rightful queen."
"At least I made my feelings clear. I'm not taking part in anything to do with the way this country is run."
"Campari said it was going to become a democracy," Chrom comments.
"I think he's got the right idea. I may not completely trust him, but as long as he starts Plegia back on the right track, I think they could prove a valuable ally. And if we form an official alliance with Olivia and Flavia, which I'm sure will be easy, we'll have allies on either side of us."
"We need as many allies as possible, in case any situations arise again like with Valm."
"It was strange, but really, Walhart was trying to do the right thing. He just went about it the wrong way."
"Plegia will change, right?" Chrom says after a long pause.
"They have to. The can no longer be a theocracy. Their god is dead."
Campari talks a lot, Chrom thinks, as he walks side by side with him to the war chamber, now repurposed as a debate chamber. This is where they'll hold the new government, once ambassadors have been elected. For now, it still only holds a long table that many officials are already seated around. Chrom sits down at the head, with Campari at the other. Ideally, he'd have other members of his own council with him- Sumia, Maribelle and surprisingly Vaike are all good at bartering and getting their own way. But for now, he has to do this alone, as his sister and father would've before him.
"Plegia and Ylisse have had a troubled history," Campari begins slowly, trying to pick his words as carefully as possible. "We've been at war for many years, since Chrom's father's time. His sister, Emmeryn, and many of his comrades, have lost their lives because of us, and Validar and many of our soldiers have lost their lives because of Ylisse. I want the next generation, the one of Chrom's children, to be one where they do not know war with their neighbours, where they can grow up in peace."
"I agree," Chrom says. "I want Plegian children to grow up without knowing war, without the troubles that it brings. That's why I've travelled here to Plegia. To sign a peace document, that I hope the rest of you will sign it and agree to my terms."
"Let us discuss those terms then," Aversa drawls, tapping her long nails against the table. Clearly, she will be a big player in the new Plegian politics, Chrom thinks.
"I want freedom of movement for both of our people. There will be no checks on the border, but the border guard will remain to ensure that no fighting breaks out, and no guerilla attacks are performed by either country," Chrom states, and the room nods it's approval.
"That sounds like a grand idea," Campari said. "I for one want free trade. It's important that we can share resources and import and export what we want."
"I agree."
"Good, good. Now, Lord Exalt, anything else pressing? Of course, these are the main things we have to agree on, but other things may be discussed."
"I want my children to be forgotten about. I don't want them, or my wife, to have to bear the weight of the Plegian throne. They won't grow up knowing the ins and outs of Plegian culture, and it would be ill fitting for foreigners to have full reign of the throne, don't you think?" Chrom asks, picking his words cleverly. "My daughter will be Ylisse's future Exalt, and if we have more children, they will be the general of the army, as I was as a second child. That is how we in House Ylisse operate. If my children choose to marry into the Plegian royal family, that is a completely different matter, and they are free to do so if that is what they wish. The same goes for their children."
"…As you wish. We know that you and Lady Robin seem to feel quite passionately on this matter, so we will not push it further," Campari says with a smile, knowing better than to insist on keeping the bloodline pure."
"Lord Chrom? A question, if I may," Aversa asks, baring her teeth. "Do you not have three children?"
"No, just one. Lucina."
"I heard of a Lucina that was in Nohr, a country far off from here. She matches the description of your Lucina quite well- blue hair, and all."
"My daughter is four years old, and in Ylisstol with my sister," Chrom says defensively.
"And there was a member of your army named Morgan who wore a cloak similar to Robin's! Was he not your child?"
"It is true that there was a child; he was maybe fourteen, at the oldest, named Morgan. He admired Robin a great deal, and trained to be a tactician to follow in her footsteps. She helped him to make a cloak like hers. We met Morgan when we were twenty-one, so Robin would've had to be seven when she gave birth to him. He is not my child," Chrom reasons, lying through his teeth.
"He makes a fair point," Campari says, hushing Aversa's protests. "Lady Robin is far too young to have a child in his teens. You must calm yourself, Aversa."
"Is that everything then?" Chrom asks, hurriedly changing the topic.
"I think that will do. I hereby declare Plegia at peace, and allies with the mighty halidom of Ylisse. All in favour say 'ay'!"
A chorus rings around the room, sealing the deal. Aversa's mouth remains closed, a tight line a reminder of her hatred for her sister and her husband. She rolls her eyes as Campari signs the official document, Chrom scribbling his name after. As the Exalt leaves the room, going back in search of his wife, she stops him.
"You will not get away with this," she hisses, her voice venomous. "I will ensure that your and Robin pay for screwing with Plegia like this!"
"We haven't done anything wrong-"
"The pieces are already in place. You won't know what hit you." She grins, each pearly tooth on show, before pivoting on her toes away from Chrom. He pauses for a moment, dazed and confused, before leaving to report to Robin. This was something she deserved to hear.
.