Robin POV

I walk into the mess hall, following my nose due to my failure to fully remember how to get there. The smell of bacon and fresh bread, as well as cheese and something like eggs floods my senses as I walk in, making me inhale deeply as the sun moves up just a bit higher in the sky.

"Good morning Robin!" Lissa yells from the table, holding a piece of bacon on the end of her fork.

I wave back with a big smile and walk over to her. "So, who's the chef this morning?"

"I think it was Becca, but I haven't seen her anywhere this morning, so I can't be sure," she answers to my query.

A sigh makes me turn around to find Chrom walking in. "Nobody I've asked has seen her since I took her up to her room last night, and she was fine then."

Frederick walks in from the kitchen with a couple plates of food, setting one on the table in front of me and across from Lissa for Chrom, standing at attention. "I actually went up to her room last night to run an errand for the maids, and I fear that I may have upset her."

"Define upset, Frederick. What did you say to her?" he asks, frowning.

Frederick swallows, almost unperceptively, as he answers, "I was asking what she would do, since her parents are here, and she is technically their responsibility now."

"Oh no…" Lissa mutters, shaking her head.

"Frederick…" Chrom sighs, going to sit down across from Lissa and picking up a piece of bacon with his fingers. "While I don't mind you having talked to her about it, that's not something she needed to talk about so soon."

"I… understood that when I left. She refused to look at me when I started talking about it, and I truly regret having brought it up with her," he murmurs, sitting down next to me. "Although I am currently worried about her, as she isn't in her room or in the practice courts. I have asked around with the guards, and the previous shift said that she left her tower a couple of hours before dawn."

"Before dawn? That's unlike her, she'd rather sleep in until we have to drag her out of bed," Chrom whispers, eating a mouthful of eggs.

"Miriel is looking for her now, and Sully is riding around the perimeter of the wall to see if she's still in the area," Frederick says solemnly, interlacing his fingers under his chin.

The sound of running footsteps echoes down the hall into the room, quickly followed by the subject of our conversation. Her cheeks are red, her whole body dripping sweat, hair tied back into a braid wrapping around her head several times and pinned down, dressed in leggings and a very baggy shirt and her knee high boots. "I did find both of them and told them I was fine, by the way, Frederick," she growls at him, running past us to go straight back to the kitchen, emerging with a plate loaded down with bacon, eggs, and toast.

She sits a bit away from us and starts layering everything onto the toast, making herself a sandwich literally dripping eggs. Lissa coughs and waves her hand in front of her nose, right as the smell of sweat assaults my own nose. "Gods, Becca! How long were you training for?" she asks, pinching her nose.

She swallows a mouthful of her sandwich before looking at us. "Since before Frederick rolled out of bed. Why? Do I smell that bad?"

Frederick frowns deeply at her, though visibly breathes through his mouth. "May I ask why you have been training for at least four hours?"

She raises an eyebrow and sets down her sandwich. "Because I prefer to train alone for as long as I can get away with without being interrupted."

Chrom sighs and puts together his own sandwich. "Mind sharing what you needed so much time to train for?"

"Let's see, I came down to warm up in the practice court until dawn with my sword and daggers, then I used my bow for an hour in the light, and I just got back from running around the city wall twice," she lists off, looking up at the ceiling and scrunching up her face in thought.

"Gods, no wonder you look like you do," Lissa speaks, voice muddled from her still-pinched nose.

"Please tell me this isn't something you do every day," I groan, burying my face in my hands.

She shrugs and continues to take another bite of her meal. "Then I won't tell you."

"Becca, why must you push yourself so much?" Frederick asks, his frown vanishing as I put my hands to use in feeding myself.

"Because it helps me get my head on straight, and I'm used to doing it." She closes her eyes and proceeds to eat more of her sandwich.

"Would you explain to us why you are so used to torturing yourself, Rebecca Clarkson?" the man from last night asks from the doorway, holding the hand of his younger daughter, who holds her mother's hand in the other. "Actually, tell us how the hell you wound up like this."

She frowns and takes a bite of her food, taking her time in chewing and swallowing. "Well, only because you insist, Father," she says, clearing her throat. "After having the memory curse removed, and I recovered, I found myself training to be a spy and assassin four years ago in the Outrealms, taking on mock contracts every once in a while my master would advise me on how to improve for the next test. After two years, I was finished with my training, and completed my first assignment, a disgusting merchant who preyed on young girls." She shivers in disgust. "I was glad when that job was finished, and I got myself a nice bonus for the extra steps I took. After that, I decided that I needed to train even more, so that there would be no situation I find myself in that would get as far as that one did. Also… it helps with the nightmares, if I work myself into the ground."

Chrom puts a hand on her shoulder, and she puts her hand over his. "What situation?"

She smiles humorlessly and shakes her head. "Nothing worth mentioning, Chrom."

Frederick coughs into his hand. "Somehow I don't believe that is the truth, milady," he murmurs gently.

She turns away from him and returns to eating her food, signaling for us to get off her back. I clear my throat and turn to Becca's family. "So, um, how did you all get to this world?"

The two adults shrug, but their younger daughter, Katie, perks up. "Our new neighbors have a daughter, a year older than Becca. We were playing some game when I had to go home, so she walked me over, saying she had to give something to my parents. When we were all in the kitchen, she waved her hands, and some weird portal opened under our feet. It was kinda bluish, and there were golden runes all around it, but it was all rimmed in black."

Becca growls and drops her food on her plate. "What?"

Katie puts her hands in the air. "I don't know much more, but I remember her saying it was time for the lost one to return, and for the final judgment to commence. Whatever that means."

"Is her name Sahara, by any chance?" she asks, clenching her fists. Katie nods, fear in her eyes as she watches her sister. "That bitch, she couldn't settle with banishing me to this world, could she?"

"Becca, watch your language!" their mother shouts, a frown on her face.

Becca glares at her mother in fury. "Don't tell me what to do, Mother." She rises from the table and carries her plate to the kitchen, then returns, heading towards the door. "You have no control over me."

Her father rises to his feet, scowling at her. "Don't you dare disrespect your mother, and don't you dare walk out that door, young lady," he growls at her. "We are your parents, and you would do well to listen to us."

The look she sends him makes his knees buckle, eyes empty, body tense. "My family died years ago, when I was brought to this world. I have no parents, I have no sister. Forget what you think you know, for you know nothing." She turns and walks out of the room.

Maribelle walks in right as she leaves, staring back at Becca's retreating figure before walking daintily through the room. "Would you please stop upsetting her? Her mind is too delicate, and she can't take much more of this," she says, specifically addressing her family.

Becca POV

I walk out to the practice court, grabbing my weapons to carry up to my room for cleaning and sharpening. I also pull out the training dummies for everyone else to use whenever they decide to come out to do their own training, which I find all to be well-used, and a few in need of being repaired.

Noting down what I will need to take care of this evening, I head up for a quick bath to clean myself up before I head to the leatherworkers, where I will be making a new sheathe for my blade and a holster for my knives to go around my thighs.

"Milady!" Frederick gasps when he finds me bent over a work table, cutting a strap for a sheath.

I finish my cut before I look up at him from across the table. "What is it, Freddy?"

He clears his throat. "Emm is asking to see you as soon as possible."

I roll my eyes and pick up my knife again, returning my attention to the work under my hands, making small marks for where I will need to punch out some holes. "When I'm done with this I'll go see her."

"By as soon as possible, she meant right now, Becca."

I frown as I reach for the next tool to begin the intricate engravings. "I'll be done with this shortly, and I know she wants to talk soon, but I told her my plans earlier this morning. I don't actually have to be up there for another thirty minutes." Sensing him still staring at me, I glance up at him. "Who sent you to get me out of here?"

He sighs before slumping. "They are desperate to talk to you, milady. Your parents want you back."

I shake my head and focus again on my work, creating a pattern of swirls in a vine-like design. "And did they ever consider that I don't want them back? I'm happy here Freddy, and I don't know if I could go on if I weren't here."

"Becca, just… give them closure, they need it."

I stop the motions of my hand, moving it away from my work before I glare at him. "I think they had plenty of closure years ago. They knew what happened, and now they know that I have a life here. What more could any of us ask for?" I take a deep breath and set down my tools, pulling the string from my hair to tie back the strands that have fallen out. "Now, would you please leave me be so I don't ruin a good piece of leather?"

He turns around and walks out, though I can tell he won't be giving up so easily.

With a sigh, I get back to work, nearing the end of the strap when I sense another presence about ten minutes later. "Freddy, I'm busy."

A laugh, familiar and lighthearted, fills the otherwise empty room. "So he really did come to bother you earlier?"

I look up to see Chrom smiling down at me from my side, holding out the next tool for me. I smile gently as I take the tool, wiping it with a cloth before finishing the pattern. "Yes, first by trying to say Emm wanted to see me. But I got the truth out of him without too much effort."

I can feel him shake his head as he rests a hand on my back. "Yeah, none of us could ever lie to you very easily without getting caught. You seem like you know everything, even when you don't."

I smile at the thought. "Yeah, well… you know how it works." I glance at the door to see the spirit of a dead soldier, transparent and casually dressed, laughing silently at us, before looking up at him again, reaching for the leather polish. "Anyway, I just need to get a layer of polish on here, then let it sit for a few hours before I get the buckle on, and it'll be done."

I looks down and gently touches the strap. "Beautiful work, Becca. When did you learn to do this?"

I smile at his curiosity. "I picked it up as a craft to keep a steady income in the Outrealms. Did you know the Secret Sellers are in constant need of the silly things, or repairs to their leatherwork? It's almost comical."

"Secret Sellers?" he asks with a frown. "Why does that sound familiar?"

I shake my head and wipe the extra polish off, buffing the leather to a glow. "I know the family fairly well, and I get a discount for providing them with their materials. The Shepherds will benefit from that, I am sure."

He helps me to put away the tools and then offers me his arm, guiding us up to the palace. "Well, I hope you plan to introduce us sometime."

I nod happily and smirk at the thought. "I dunno, they're quite the crazy bunch. Maybe a bit too crazy for you to handle."

He raises an eyebrow and smirks at me. "Hey, if I can handle you, I'm sure I can handle a whole family."

I laugh at him, poking his arm. "Don't be so sure, Chrom, they are way worse than me on a bad day."

He just shakes his head as we enter the palace, taking a shortcut to Emm's office when I detect movement in the shadows. I pull him along past the shadow, which he doesn't seem to notice, as his focus is solely on me. I detect the muffled footsteps of well-used boots on the carpet, and the spirit from earlier floats along ahead of us, keeping an eye on our guest. His eyes widen as I hear the faint sound of metal whooshing through the air, and push us apart as the knife flies between us.

I look back to find an assassin standing fearfully in the middle of the hallway, maybe about thirty and much taller than even Chrom. "How did you know I was there?! This isn't possible!" he exclaims, trying to keep his voice down as he pulls out his sword.

I jerk my hand down in an arc, releasing a blade from its hidden sheath up my sleeve, and charge at the man, sliding between his legs at the last second as he makes to slice me in two. "Bad move," I whisper, rising behind him fast enough to plunge my blade into his side, being sure not to damage any of his internal organs. He drops his blade with a cry, falling to his knees as I pull the blade free, his blood dripping down the weapon onto my hand. "Who hired you?"

He glares up at me, trying to stay silent, when he fumbles around in his pocket, pulling out a sheet of parchment with ink markings all over it. I see a rough sketch, but can't make it out before he drops it on the ground. "It can't be… you?"

I frown as I step over to him, punching him in the face, causing him to collapse to the ground. "Who do you work for?" I ask again.

He spits out blood onto the once pristine carpet and looks at my feet, refusing to meet my eyes. "His majesty King Gangrel… ngh, he wanted you brought to him alive, and the Exalt and her family dead."

I lift him slightly off the ground by the neck. "Why me?"

"Because you were to be given to him eleven years ago," he whispers.

I stare at him, before shaking my head in denial. "You're lying to me."

He laughs slightly. "You only wish I was." In fury, I squeeze his neck in just the right spot, knocking him unconscious.

I look up at Chrom, fearing for the worst. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay much longer. If Gangrel is sending people to get me, after all this time, then I only add to the danger of you and your family."

He stares at me for a moment before turning, shouting, "Guards!" Within seconds, a whole group of uniformed soldiers are carrying the unconscious man away to be interrogated and healed. He then takes me to his room, getting me a basin of water and a rag, which I use to get the blood off my hands and knife, before putting the weapon away, all of this done in silence. "Becca…" he starts, unsure. "I don't want to lose you again."

I look over to him, sitting in the chair at his desk, and sigh. "Chrom, you won't, not this time. I will leave, but I will send you letters to let you know I am alright." Unconvinced, he looks away. I sigh, going to kneel next to him. "I will be alright, Chrom. We will not lose contact again, not if I have anything to say about it. I can go look for Marth, work with him to find out what his plans are, and ensure that he is truly an ally…"

"But what if something happens to you again?" he whispers, undoing the string in my hair, letting the mass of red tinged curls flow down my back. "I just got you back, you can't go so soon again."

I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, meeting his gaze as he combs his fingers through my hair. "I promise I will come back," I whisper to him, barely holding my emotions in check at the thought of leaving the one place I've always wanted to stay. "Believe me, this won't be easy for me either."

"Then stay where we can protect you and my sisters," he begs, lifting his voice as he pulls me into his arms, kissing me breathless.

I wrap my arms around his neck as his slide into place around my waist, and feel the tears of pain and guilt welling in my closed eyes.

Yeah, I don't know where this came from… review, anyone?

I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening.