Virion

"I'll fold."

"Gaius, my good man, do you really not have a suitable hand?" Virion smirked as he glanced at his two cards. Pocket queens. Of course, the rogue would fold early, sniffing out any potential for losses.

Virion glanced over to the other two participants; Gregor and Nowi. Gregor sat with a hunched over posture, gripping his cards tightly in front of him with an inquisitive look upon his face, as if the cards might divine a secret to him about fortune itself. Meanwhile, Nowi used her cards and the spare deck to try and build a house of cards while blindly throwing gold into the pot.

Nowi was losing the bet by the most. It's endearing though, this little manakete wants to participate more than actually win the game. And here I thought dragons liked gold. Virion shook his head and chuckled. Regardless, it was good company on one of the few nights in recent memory everyone was in camp relaxing for a change.

Gaius stretched his arms behind his head and propped his boots up on the table. "What can I say, I have a seventh sense for these kinds of things." He smiled and dug inside his pant pocket, revealing a reddish lollipop. He unraveled it quickly and popped it into his mouth. "Go ahead Ruffles, try and get the Kid or Tiny to ante up."

"I'm older than you!" Nowi cried, slapping her hands on the table. Her delicate card house wobbled, and then finally toppled over. "Look at what you did Gaius! Gah!" Nowi held out her hand toward Gaius with a gripping motion. "More shiny rocks please, I'm out and you owe me."

Gaius raised an eyebrow and nearly let the lollipop fall out of his mouth. "You want me...to give you more gold?"

"Yeah, I'd like to keep playing," Nowi said. Her eyes twinkled in the lantern light of the tent as Gaius reluctantly reached into his pocket and tossed the manakete a few gold pieces.

Virion rolled his eyes. Unbelievable.

"Don't give me that look, Ruffles. She's probably got a killer hand."

Nowi's head bobbed up and down as she raised her arms. "Yeah, two of 'em!"

"Quiet! Gregor is still considering his options." Gregor slowly rubbed his chin, holding his cards close to his chest in a vice-like grip. "It is difficult decision."

"My good merc, Gregor, this isn't chess," Virion said, rapping his knuckles against the table. "It's the final bet in this round of poker. You either call and win or fold and keep your earnings. It's quite a simple yet elegant concept."

Gaius nodded, nudging Gregor in the arm. "He's got a point, Tiny. Either call or fold." Gregor put up a finger to gesture for them to wait. Gaius let out a deep sigh and looked back to Virion. "Say, want to make this bet more interesting?"

"I believe you folded, Gaius," Virion promptly reminded, but the rogue waved him off in a playful fashion.

"I did, but here are the terms. You win this hand and I'll answer any question from you truthfully, but if you lose I get the truthful answer to any question I pose to you. Deal?" Gaius offered with a sly smile.

Virion returned a confident gaze to the sweets lover. "You're on. I am curious as to how a rogue such as yourself found employment with Plegia's elite." Virion glanced at his pair of queens in his hand. Such an easy bet, especially considering the table has another queen! It's practically stealing, but considering it's Gaius, I suppose I can make an exception.

Virion scratches at his chin as his mind drifts to the possibility of losing. Gaius isn't one for losing bets. Is he that confident in Gregor's hand? Virion glanced over to Gregor again and chuckled. The man seemed intently focused on the staredown with his cards.

Virion furrows his brow and sets his cards down. His thoughts drifted to who his actual allies could be in the future. The ragtag of comrades at the table. Sweet, loyal, and albeit mildly terrifying Cherche. Virion's spin shivered as thoughts of his retainer swept through his mind like a monsoon lathered with guilt. He had left her all alone back home. To help with what he could not. And finally Anje, with that debt she believed she owed him.

I only did what any sane gentleman would have done, Virion mused. Though, if she has done well in Ferox I'd be remiss not to make good on her word…

"Alright, we've thought long enough," Gaius instructed, nudging the large mercenary beside him. "Flip 'em, Tiny."

"But Gregor has not yet-"

"For Naga's sake, just flip over your damn cards and call," Gaius groaned. Gregor sighed and revealed his cards.

Virion quickly flipped over his hand, compared it to Gregor's hand, and the cards in the pot, and then smiled. Gregor only had a pair of tens.

"Ah, well after much deliberation, it would seem that you've lost," Virion lamented as he began to scoop up his earnings. Just as Virion touched the first gold piece, Gaius put his hand out.

"Whoa there, we aren't done yet," Gaius quickly rebuked. "There's still one more at the table, Ruffles."

"Oh?" Virion quipped. "You telling me you have a card hidden up your sleeve?"

Gaius leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "Nah, I ain't cheatin'. We haven't seen the Kid's hand."

Virion's expression fell as he turned toward Nowi, who had been trying to carefully reset her house of card. "I got an old lady and old man," Nowi said, her tongue out and one eye closed as she balanced cards against each other. "Do I get more shiny rocks?"

"Oh, I don't know." Gaius turned to Virion with a wide grin. "What do you think, Ruffles? Pretty sure full house beats three of a kind."

"I don't remember that being the bet, Gaius."

Gaius shook his head and raised a finger. "Oh, but it was. It wasn't if Gregor beat you, it was if you lost or won. Right?"

"Yeah!" Nowi shouted as she greedily scooped up the gold, grabbing two tiny fistfuls and raising them high. "I win!"

Damned misdirection. I let myself get distracted.

"Very well, I will honor our agreement," Virion said, sighing. "What is it that you wish to ask me?"

Gaius settled into his seat and put his legs up again on the table. "Be honest with me, Virion. What are your plans after the war? And no half-assed answers."

Virion sighed. Of course, it'd come down to this. He'd kept his intentions very close to his heart from the get-go, and here he was getting grilled in a silly bet over the issue.

"I plan to help my homeland, as it is my duty to help liberate the people I've left behind." Virion paused to gauge their reactions. Gregor and Gaius seemed intrigued and waiting for more, while Nowi...had gone back to working on her house of cards.

"Alright, so give us the details," Gaius insisted, gesturing with his hand in a circular motion. "You've got to give us more than 'I want to help my country' shtick. Chrom already has dibs on that. How do you plan to do this?"

"Gregor is in agreement with the thief, and would like to hear more of these plans."

Virion rubbed his temples. Of course, they'd want details. "I'm looking for allies to help me...liberate my people. Though allies have been in short supply for such a venture."

"You ask Chrom?" Gaius mused, crossing his arms.

Virion shook his head. "Lord Chrom has enough on his plate so to speak, especially now that Exalt Emmeryn has met a tragic end. I'd rather not press him with such matters."

"So you never thought about asking us?" Gaius smirked. "Ole' Tiny and I work for just about anybody for the right price. I'm sure you could make us a persuasive offer, considering that Rosanne has a bountiful vault." Gaius and Virion locked eyes, and the rogue popped the lollipop from his mouth with a sly grin. "Hells, I'll even throw in a friend's discount."

"Gregor would also throw in this 'friends discount'," Gregor announced. He began to reshuffle the deck for the next round. "You have much doubt in yourself, Gregor sees this."

"While your offers are truly flattering, gentlemen, I'd like to point out that I doubt I could liberate a country with just a few mercenaries," Virion solemnly rebutted.

"Don't leave me out!" Nowi bemoaned. "I want to be involved too! I can burn bad guys cause I'm a big scary dragon! Rawr!"

Gaius snort-laughed and gestured with his head toward Nowi. "See? You just gotta ask around, Ruffles. For the right price, anybody can be your friend. I'm sure the less business savvy Shepherds will be willing to hear you out too of course. Heck, I'm sure if we keep talking about money like this Anna will just materialize in this tent, ready to fund a little task force."

"While I have the utmost respect for Lady Anna, I'd rather avoid further dealings with the merchant," Virion said. "But alas, you've given me much to think about. I should...weigh my options so to speak."

Who could be my allies? Certainly, I can't ask before Plegia is dealt with. Virion exhaled deeply and folded his hands neatly in his lap. I'd need to regroup with Cherche. A few mercenaries wouldn't cut it. I'd need more help. Chrom already has too much on his shoulders, and I've yet to let my pride drop that low…

"Yeah, do just that. Think about it," Gaius said. Gregor began to shuffle and deal out a fresh hand to each of them. "But if it's as serious as you say it is, maybe it's time to call in some favors, eh?"

Virion nodded and looked at his hand. Junk. He placed it down immediately and rested his hand underneath his chin.

Cashing in on favors...well I can think of at least one immediately. Hopefully, she's doing better these days. I do regret not saying goodbye. Virion shook his head and grabbed his cards again as Gregor threw in the first bet. He'd feared this day would come; where he'd have to face who the Archest of Archers really was. The man who left his people for dead while he escaped to another land in search of help only to get roped into another scheme and more politics. A man who bided his time instead of trusting others with his issues.

That man was a coward.

Virion folded his opening hand without calling the ante.

Robin

A bright light illuminated the double-wide tent that had been converted into a makeshift laboratory. Robin preferred this, as it was a workspace that oozed innovation and was a playground where his ideas could run wild.

Beakers, magical baubles, and tomes lined the makeshift tables where he currently tinkered with an empty oil lantern, a roughly cut ruby, and a Fire tome. It was paradise, even amidst a warzone, but that obviously came secondary. Sure, Robin was Chrom's masterful tactician, but he was a scholar first and foremost on the cutting edge of the mysteries of the universe that lesser men would shy away from.

Robin wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He'd lost track of time, again, though he was sure it was late. Sleep could wait when there was progress to be made. Besides, it's not like he was alone.

Quiet and measured footsteps approached Robin's workstation, and he found himself smiling. Just like Lissa had taught him. "Still working on the mage light conductor, Robin?" Miriel asked in an even tone, Robin feeling her presence hover behind him. It felt good to know someone shared his enthusiasm for science. He could just be himself.

"Almost got it finished, actually. Had to change the math on Wendell's Law of Magical Equivalence, but I've nearly got it done." Robin placed the crystal inside the lantern in a small apparatus. "Should work now."

"You...changed the math on a magical law," Miriel said with...disbelief? Or was it shock? Robin shrugged. Emotions were so tricky, unlike math.

"Well, yeah. It wasn't working for me, so I changed the rules. Easy."

Miriel stepped around to the side of Robin's workstation, arms crossed and a frown upon her face. "One doesn't simply change fundamental magical theorems and laws to suit one's whims, Robin. The results could be disastrous."

Is she upset with me? Robin was an innovator in the laboratory as well as the battlefield. He didn't take opportunities. He made them.

"You can double-check my math if you wish," Robin said as he finally fastened the ruby gem in place. "But, I assure you that it's sound. Once I figured out the calculus it only took me a few hours to figure out how to create a new formula. It's the green bound journal to your left."

Miriel snatched the journal and began to scour it's contents greedily. Robin sat back and wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. Felt good to be hands-on with mathematics. Creating something new.

"This...is remarkable and terrifying, Robin. Are you telling me you calculate the potential thermodynamics of elemental transfer from tomes?" Miriel set the journal down and looked to Robin. "What sparked such an illuminating idea to create a theorem of your own?"

"Lamp kept running out of oil when I'd be working late, and refilling it was annoying," Robin said with a shrug. "Figured I should create a solution to that problem. It'd reduce the time I'd spend not developing tactics for the Shepherds." Robin raised a finger. "And I figure I could tweak the formula to work in some manner with ice magic to create a way to make a cold...box. Yeah, a box that can keep things cold. Like beverages."

"You invented this...because you were concerned about the efficiency of your other work? Remarkable," Miriel whispered in awe. She quickly recomposed herself and coughed into her fist. "Care to demonstrate?"

Robin jumped up from his stool. "Of course! Now, all you do is have to channel your magic directed toward the gem with the proper spell in mind. In this case, it's been imbued with Fire, so it should serve as a magical vacuum to fuel the programmed spell." Robin held his hand out in front of the iron lantern and pressed his intent to cast Fire on the lantern. The ruby began to glow a brilliant crimson light that brightened up the entire tent. "The ruby is carved with special inlays to allow for maximum magic filtering along with tome glyphs painted on the inside of the lantern to-"

"To stabilize the latent magic in the air to prevent an explosion." Miriel snapped her fingers and her eyes widened. "Of course, Merric's Theorem of Latent Magic. You've managed to deviate from Wendell's Law to mimic a self-sustaining ecosystem and won't implode from the influx of infused energy in this container. How long will the light last?"

Robin shrugged. "Dunno. I'm guessing a few days, at least. Haven't figured out how to turn it off yet."

"You...don't know how to turn it off?" Miriel furrowed her brow. "You designed an entirely new spectrum of magical theory, and yet you can't turn it off?"

"Yeah, cause adding more magic just makes the lantern last longer. Add too much and the ruby will explode. I was going to experiment with trying to craft a magical enzyme to help mitigate the effects and to have the magic itself act as a kind of substrate, but I've yet to develop a theorem for that yet. Been busy," Robin reluctantly said.

"You're using biological terms for the magic? Interesting."

"Well, it seemed natural," Robin replied. "Magic acts as if it's alive, but sleeping. You can draw parallels with how our bodies work with magic, but then try to transfer that to an inorganic substance-"

"So that's why you used a crystal," Miriel said, propping her chin up with her hand. "You needed something that had a complex enough microstructure that could handle the burden of magic, much like a person. I adore your conjecture, but," Miriel paused and cleared her throat, "I have an inquiry for you."

"Oh?" Robin said. "Sure, I think I can probably answer it."

"Would you wish to receive aid in developing a complementary system for such a device? I've concluded that by conjoining our cognitive prowess on such an endeavor would be fortuitous and garner faster results," Miriel explained, but Robin swore he heard something else in her voice. A certain quickness to her tone that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"If you would like to look over my notes so far, I'd welcome the help. Besides," Robin gestured toward the luminous lantern emitting its splendid crimson light, "I doubt we'll run out of any 'midnight oil'."

"Clever and noted," Miriel replied. "Allow me to get another stool and we shall proceed."

Robin found himself smiling again as the mage walked away. Finally, someone else who speaks my langauge.

Sumia

"Easy there Belfire," Sumia cooed as she brushed her trusty steed.

Belfire snorted and stamped at the ground like a child throwing a fit.

"I'm sorry big guy, but I'm out of apples," Sumia replied. She gently stroked underneath the pegasus' jaw. "But I've at least got chin scratches. Will that do?"

Belfire snorted again, but he stood still this time and leaned into Sumia's hand a bit. I accept your apology you big baby, Sumia's mouth twitched into a slight smile as she continued to give her winged friend a vigorous massage. He'd been so good these past few months ever since she paired up with him. Even after all the death and terror, Belfire held strong when Sumia wanted to falter.

Another gruff snort sounded from behind Sumia. Oh, I didn't forget about you either. She turned and gave Aurora some scratches on the chin as well. Both steeds were hungry for affection, but Aurora more so these past few days. Cordelia didn't visit nearly as much as Sumia, and that worried her. She knew she cared, but would notice how Cordelia would never broach the topic. Always Sumia.

"Maybe we should go find Cordy, huh?" Sumia asked Aurora. A stern whinny escaped from Aurora's throat as Sumia began to scratch behind his ears. "Really? Well, I suppose we could I could go into camp and find her-"

Aurora let out another firm whinny. So demanding!

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll go look for her, but you stay here and behave!" Sumia said as if chiding a child. "That means you too, Belfire. Keep watch and I'll be back soon."

Sumia snatched a nearby lantern and trotted away from the edge of the camp where the pegasi and horses were tied down with stakes. Sure, it wasn't secure but their mounts had proven themselves honorable creatures, and desertion from their riders wasn't a fear. Hell, even Sully's feisty mare and Stahl's mild-mannered steed seemed to be at peace.

Sumia smiled as she rounded toward the main campfire in the center of the camp. It's funny how our mounts seem to reflect some of the riders. Nearby the fire Sumia spotted Cordelia; still in her riding armor sitting on a rock with a twig in hand, poking at the coals with half-lidded eyes.

She had hardly said a word since Doluna. Everything went wrong in Doluna. Still can't believe it was only four days ago…

"Hey, Cordelia!" Sumia said, a bounce in her stride as she ambled up to the firepit. "Mind if I sit?"

Cordelia's somber expression morphed as the corner of her mouth curved up. A gentle expression, but Sumia noticed the glassy look in her slightly reddish eyes reflected in the light of the fire.

She had been crying at some point earlier.

"No, it's fine Sumia," Cordelia turned her head out toward the opposite end of the camp near some rocky outcropping. Sumia squinted through the darkness and made out two figures; Chrom and the Taguel woman, Panne. Cordelia began to slowly get to her feet. "I was just on my way to bed."

Sumia noticed Cordelia shake her head and return attention to her. "Well, if you're tired. I just figure it'd be nice to talk, you know?" Sumia said. "It is late, but I promise not to keep you too long. Please?"

Cordelia's jaw quivered a moment, then she gritted her teeth. Her shoulders slumped and she sat back down on the soft dirt. "Alright, what's bothering you Sumia?"

Sumia forced a smile, something that felt a bit unnatural for her and snuggled up closely to Cordelia and the fading flames. "It's Aurora. I think he needs more attention from you. You've let me give him snacks the past three days, and I think he's starting to suspect something."

"Well," Cordelia said as she began to stand up again, "I suppose I should go give him some-"

"I already fed him earlier," Sumia said, wincing slightly. "Sorry, but both Belfire and Aurora were really hungry."

Cordelia's expression dulled. "Oh."

"You should still see him, though," Sumia insisted. Cordelia's gaze flickered back toward Chrom's direction. Sumia tugged Cordelia's arm, managing to quickly get her fellow rider's attention. "Don't worry about him for now, he'll be fine. He's stronger than we know. Just...let him be, okay? He'll come to us if he wants to talk about it."

"I should talk to the prince though," Cordelia said, determination filling her voice. "I could tell him-"

Sumia's eyes bore into Cordelia as she tugged at her arm again. "Tell the Ylissean prince or Chrom?"

Cordelia swallowed hard, her gaze drifting back toward the fire. "I..don't know. Make him see how great a prince he really is, that he can lead us. I see the weight he carries on his shoulders."

"We all do," Sumia whispered. She inhaled deeply, taking in the smoke-flavored air from around the fire. "But it's his choice to come to us as his friend. He's more than just the prince of Ylisse." Sumia paused, tilting her head towards Cordelia. The red-haired rider didn't reply, so Sumia pressed on, "Go give Aurora some pets. He needs it probably just as much as you do, and then do you want to come back and talk about something else?" Sumia flashed a warm smile at her comrade and patted the ground beside her. "Nice and cozy here."

Cordelia's lips twisted into an uneven line, her head craned upward looking at the starless desert sky. "I think I'll just go to bed. Thank you though."

Sumia bowed her head slightly. "Very well, I'll see you bright and early."

With one last belated huff, Cordelia marched toward the far edge of the camp where the Shepherd's mounts stood. Her form was elegant and refined, but the sound of her footfalls were laborious and heavy. She's in so much pain, yet she only wants to fix others. I wish I knew a better way to help her, Sumia mused as she warmed up her hands to the smoldering fire.

"Uh, is that spot still taken, miss?"

Sumia's eyes bulged, her back straightened, and it took every ounce of self-control not to squeak. The friendly drawl was much closer than anticipated as Sumia turned around to see a dirtied farmboy with a kitchen pot on his head. She breathed a sigh of relief and giggled as Donnel nervously drew closer.

"Miss Sumia, I reckon ya' alright dere?" Donnel asked as Sumia recomposed herself.

"I'm fine, Donnel, thank you for asking. You merely startled me," Sumia replied. "How long were you back there? It's impolite to skulk about in the shadows."

Donnel walked up to Sumia's side and bowed. "Deeply sorry ma'am. You two seemed to be in a big 'ole talk and I didn't want to interrupt it." The farm boy turned soldier nervously chuckled. " Please 'scuse my, uh, behavior, ma'am."

Sumia closed her eyes and giggled again. "It's nothing, really. And you don't have to be so proper, Donnel. We are in camp and at ease." Donnel nodded but stood beside Sumia, glancing around awkwardly. She suppressed another bout of laughter. "You can sit down."

"Oh, thank ye' kindly, ma-Sumia," Donnel said as he quickly plopped himself down beside Sumia.

Oh, he is just too precious, even after everything that has happened.

"So, why were you up?" Sumia asked. "Most people are in bed by now."

"Sir Frederick woke me to check the snares we left," Donnel conceded with a shrug. "Not sure how them things gonna catch a snake o' lizard, but I'mma guess they do the trick in a way. Master Robin's idea, if I recall."

"He sure does love his plots and gadgets, doesn't he?" Sumia commented, warming her hands by the fire. "Our tactician is brilliant, but he's, uh-"

"A little sideways in the head?" Donnel interjected with a deep drawl.

"Yes, I think." Sumia blushed slightly and tried to hide her face. "N-not that I'm speaking ill of our tactician or anything!"

"Nah, I get whatcha' mean, milady," Donnel said with a nod. "He says things that I can't make heads or tails of, but then we do 'em and they jus' work, ya know? Naga blessed smart one, that he is."

"I'd have to agree," Sumia conceded with a gentle sigh. "Anything else on your mind, Donnel?"

The former farm boy rubbed his chin and squinted his eyes, like someone trying to imitate a scholar of great renown. "Not certain, thas' for sure. Heard a little bit what you and Lady Cordelia said earlier, but I try not to pry or listen too hard."

"What did you hear?"

Donnel shrugged. "Not too much. It was awfully kind of ya' to speak with 'er. She's like a lady made outta glass, right she is."

"I, uh, don't understand?" Sumia asked, furrowing her brow. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, " Donnel said, "She's beautiful, strong, but delicate. Like a farmer that's worked the season too long, ya' can see cracks formin'. She's keepin' in the bad thoughts, I think. I'd talk with her, but, uh…" Donnel scratched the back of his head and beamed a wide smile. "Not sure how I would go about that."

"Do you see something like that in everyone?" Sumia quipped, finding herself smiling along with Donnel.

"Well, uh yeah, I s'pose so. Sir Fred is like tempered steel, Vaike is like a brick, and I'd say Miriel is like one of them fancy jars she keeps potions in."

"What about me?"

Donnel smiled. "Like a sweet ivory that's soft and silky-" Donnel froze and his face began to immediately redden; his already up in a defensive manner. "I didn't mean it like, uh, well, um-"

"I like it." Her eyes glistened in the campfire's light as she nudged a half-burnt piece of wood into the fire with her boot. "It's not someone saying how clumsy I am, so thank you."

Still beat red, Donnel gulped and nodded vigorously. "Of course, milady!" Sumia gave him a pointed look, and he nodded again. "Er, Sumia."

"Let's just sit here awhile longer. The fire is nearly out anyway," Sumia offered. She received no complaints as the two leaned back on their elbows in comfortable silence and stared upon the vast endless expanse of the night sky.

Perhaps coming to Plegia wasn't all bad.

Chrom

"Milord," Frederick stood near the war table, back straight and hands clasped firmly behind him, "We should be ready to mobilize our forces for the Plegian counterassault. No doubt they shall chase us from the Southeast with the Grimleal in tow-Milord, are you paying attention?"

Chrom rested his hands heavily on the far end of the war table, hanging his head low. Sure it was late and he was tired. So very tired. After all the chaos that had erupted from the Plegian capital, Phila's demise and botched rescue, and...his sister's resounding speech and death.

The Ylissean prince shook his head. He had done everything he could. That's what everyone kept telling him, and he desperately wanted to believe them.

"Can't we go over the battle plans tomorrow? With Robin?" Chrom suggested to his retainer. He rolled his shoulders and stood up a bit straighter. "It's the middle of the night, Frederick."

"That may be, milord, but our enemy will not rest. And neither shall we until we have a solid plan against the Plegians that tail us." Frederick pointed a gauntleted hand on the map, tapping an area colored in red. " We believe they'll pass through the old Aretian valley here in the Border Wastes. It's imminent that we send out our flying units to scout the area-"

"Robin was against that," Chrom interjected, doing his best not to groan. "He said that we should get as close to the Feroxi border to make sure we have a support cushion when the enemy does catch up to us."

Frederick's face paled. "But, milord, we could be flanked in the middle-"

"Enough!" Chrom slammed his fist against the wooden table. A small crack formed where he had hit, and then Chrom let out a ragged sigh. "Frederick, I'm sorry. It's just...I'm so tired."

"I understand milord, perhaps we give logistics a rest then for tonight and you can catch some sleep so you are well-rested."

"I suppose," Chrom mused, shrugging his shoulders. "Not sure it might help, but I can try."

"Milord?"

"Yes?" Chrom replied. Frederick's stony expression bore into Chrom. The very same one he had given him just a few days prior when the world got thrown on its head, and he became the next Exalt in a mere moment.

"How can I help you, milord?" Frederick asked, stepping toward Chrom with an even stride. "I apologize for pressing you earlier, it was my fault alone. I'm merely concerned for the Shepherd's well-being. We've been given a stroke of luck with General Mustafa's defeat, and I'm driven to see we don't squander it. I let my ambition and fear get the better of me, so please forgive me."

"It's fine, Frederick. I accept your apology. We've all been wound up for a while. The tension around camp, haven't you noticed it?" Chrom gestured out toward the tent exit. "We work well on the battlefield, but something is off about us all. I can feel it like a cold breeze that refuses to go away." Chrom looked down at his feet and let out a mirthless chuckle. "Lissa thinks I'm crazy, but I can feel it, Frederick. There's a tension here, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Since Ferox," Frederick replied in a clipped tone.

Chrom nodded. "Since Ferox. So you agree?"

"Of course, milord. I've talked with several members on your behalf about keeping morale up, but it seems you're perceptive as always," Frederick conceded. "It's the foreigners and the Ylisseans it seems. Allowing Anje into the Shepherds was ill-advised-"

"I know, Frederick. We've talked about this before," Chrom rebuked, surprised by his own vigor. He sighed. " I feel like I could have said something better to her. If I spent more time with her I could have swayed her not into doing those actions. Or at least talked with her afterward to figure out why."

"You know as well as I do that it would have been politically damaging to do, milord. Granting the Feroxi a prisoner in exchange for rehabilitating Lon'Qu with our healers in concordance with their assistance with the Plegian threat and the Risen was our priority. We made the right call."

"Yes, I suppose so. Just wish that the camp could be closer like it was before. Everyone has hidden away in their own groups."

Frederick coughed into his gauntlet. "You could always order them to group up. Enforce bonding activities perhaps?"

A small smile began to appear across Chrom's lips. "I don't think encouraging 'mandatory fun and engagement' is the way to go, with all due respect Frederick. We have to figure it out some other way. Forcing people together won't change their hearts. It'll just show that we are overreacting to the problem and push them farther away."

"Very well." Frederick bowed at the waist to his lord. "Shall you be off to bed?"

"Soon," Chrom replied. "I'll take one last walk around the camp. Need some fresh air."

Frederick bowed once more to his liege and then left the tent with his usual confident stride. Chrom rolled his left shoulder and ran his hand through his slightly disheveled hair. When was the last time I even bathed? Feels like time keeps slipping away.

Chrom waited a few moments for Frederick's departure before snuffing the oil lantern and leaving the tent. The starry evening sky greeted his eyes, illuminating the decent array of nearby tents and rocky dunes. Light leaked out from only a few nearby tents, everyone else seeming to have retired for the evening. It had been several hours since sundown, and a few more since they stopped their march through the arid wastes, with the sand giving way to craggy earth with spindly plants and scaled fauna.

"Alright," Chrom muttered under his breath as he stretched out his back. "Where to go, where to go…"

He hardly felt tired, despite it being the middle of the night. No, he definitely felt tired, just not physically. Everything else inside him felt drained. Perhaps someone to talk to can help? Chrom thought as he glanced down the row of dark tents.

Robin's tent was still lit, but that wasn't a surprise. The peculiar mage maybe only got a couple of hours of sleep a night, and it from the muffled sounds inside sounded like he had company already.

Chrom smirked. "Besides, I'm sure Robin would just give me a mathematical lecture on how I'm feeling the way I do, not why," Chrom whispered under his breath. For an incredibly intelligent person, he didn't really care much for answers to difficult questions. It's like he wanted to create more questions than actually find answers.

The prince shook his head. Robin is out of the picture, so who else was awake? Muted laughter and dim light leaked from Gregor's tent, the mercenary the Shepherds picked up not too long ago. Sure, he could walk in and join in, but would that really keep the mood, or would the laughter stop because Prince Chrom had shown up?

Chrom turned his attention elsewhere, and to the main firepit down the other side of camp. Dinner had been served hours ago, and only Cordelia lingered by the fire now. Alone and sat with her shoulders hunched, a pang of guilt flooded through Chrom. He felt responsible for sending Phila's squad to rescue Emmeryn, no matter how much they said it was their duty to do so. He had wanted to save his sister, not just the Exalt, and in doing so something had broken inside of Cordelia. Her tone these past few days was more clipped and her sentences lingered just a tad too long before she'd abruptly dismiss herself to go do something else, like scouting or counting inventory. It left him feeling worried for the woman who had dedicated much of her life to serving him, much like Frederick, wishing that she could find an identity for herself outside of duty to his title.

Chrom began to walk down the line of tents away from the main firepit. Most of the older tenured Shepherds like Vaike, Sully, Stahl, and Sumia seemed to be either out patrolling or asleep. Lissa and Marabelle's tent was dark, and he had already spoken to both of them at length earlier today to see if they could heal his weariness. There was nothing to be done with a healing staff.

Gripping Falchion's pommel, Chrom moved past the last of the dark tents to the edge of the rocky outcropping, and Chrom's stride slowed as he heard...gnawing? He shook his head and refocused. What in the name of the Voice is that sound?

Hopping up onto a large boulder, Chrom peered over the edge of the terrain and raised an eyebrow at the display. Panne, the strange Taguel woman, was sitting with her back against the raised earth with something scaled and bloody in her paws. Squinting his eyes in the darkness, Chrom noticed it seemed to be a lizard of some sort by the shape.

Panne rested the lizard in her lap and cast an annoyed gaze at Chrom. "Yes, manspawn? Have you come to observe my meal?"

Chrom blinked rapidly. Seeing someone devour a raw lizard wasn't usual, and neither was facing the standoffish Taguel. From her odd plated armor, to how her ears seemed interwoven into her hair braids with surprisingly delicate care, to her ferocious transformation. Granted, it wasn't as startling as Nowi's, but the Manakete was vastly different from Panne.

"Come to gawk?" Panne said with a dry and flat as if her voice was rusty from periods of unuse.

"No, not at all," Chrom replied in a well-mannered tone. He smiled and chuckled. "Just thought I'd ask if you would share."

Panne raised an eyebrow, and then looked down at the half-eaten lizard in her lap. She shrugged and held the critter out. "Very well, though I would like to savor the tail."

"It was a joke…" Chrom pinched the bridge of his nose. Great going there, Chrom, trying to bond with your companions with bad jokes.

"Ah."

"Yeah, my apologies, Panne. Perhaps that was in poor taste," Chrom conceded sheepishly.

"Was that another joke?" Panne drolly commented, setting the lizard carcass back in her lap. "I tire of these games your kind plays."

"No, I'm sorry, it wasn't a joke or anything!" Chrom restated, holding his arms out. "I didn't come to offend you or anything, I just came to, uh, get some fresh air."

Panne gestured to the wide expanse of desert terrain before the two. "There is plenty of air out here, enough to even make a manspawn alpha content."

Chrom's lips became tight as he placed his hands on his hips and nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. It's a bit dark, but it's not too bad."

"It is a wasteland. I am unsure what you mean."

"It's just quiet, I guess. It's space to let me think without hearing the noise of battle or bustle of a town." Chrom leaned against a nearby large boulder and crossed his arms. "I like it."

"You do not," Panne simply stated.

"What?" Chrom quipped, his pitch slightly higher than intended.

Panne pointed at him with her talon-like finger. "Your heart beats too rapidly. You are not calm. Afraid of predators, are you?"

"How can you tell?" Chrom asked, crossing his arms a bit more tightly across his chest. It felt unnatural to be read that easily. He had fooled Frederick for a while at least, and here Panne points it out in only a minute.

"I am a Taguel," Panne said, gesturing to her ears. "I can hear your discomfort. It is loud, much like manspawn usually are."

"Yeah," Chrom said with a sigh. "Emmeryn's still on my mind, along with everything else." Chrom cast a glance back toward camp. Cordelia was still sitting by the fire, and it looked like Sumia had joined her. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Good.

"Ah, your kin that was slain," Panne said in a quiet voice. "I acknowledge and know your sorrow. I too know loss, and know it is difficult."

"It is," Chrom whispered. "It really is. There is so much on my shoulders it's just-" Chrom closed his mouth and looked back down to Panne, whose expression was neutral but she seemed intent on listening. He shook his head. "Sorry, guess I just wanted to talk. Didn't come here to bore you with my human problems."

"They may be human, but they are not too different from mine," Panne confirmed adamantly. "I am the last Taguel and carry the pride of my past kin. You now carry the weight of your people. It is the same."

Chrom blinked. Huh, I hadn't seen it like that before. She might have a point. He rolled his shoulders and stretched out his arms. "I think you're right. Do you think I'll do a good job?"

"How should I know?" Panne dismissively replied. "Humans are strange, and I know not of your customs. Just that some are good and some are evil."

"I suppose so," Chrom said, humming under his breath. "Still, I want to do well. I've felt like I need to help bridge the gap between people, but if I can't do that in my own contingent, what hope do I have?" Chrom let out a mirthless chuckle. "That's my dream at least. To figure this all out."

"We have very different dreams."

"Oh, well I'm sure that-"

"I like your dreams better," Panne interjected. Her face remained serious and focused on the dead expanse before her as she sat up straighter. "I dream of only raiding carrot patches. Perhaps this is why you are of the dreaming race. An old name Taguel gave to humans." Panne turned her head to Chrom, her expression softening ever so slightly. "It seems you fit that description quite well. Keep dreaming. It does you good."

"I'll be sure to do that," Chrom said, nodding along. Lifting himself off the rock, he turned to leave back to camp. "I'm going to head in for the night. Thanks for hearing me out, Panne, even if I'm, uh, a weird human to you."

"No," Panne said adamantly, "I have not talked to anyone in quite some time. This was...nice. Yes. Mhmmm. Good night, Chrom."

"Good night, Panne. Rest well, we have a busy day tomorrow," Chrom explained. As he was about to pass by the rock outcropping, he paused his stride. "And feel free to linger more inside the camp, if you wish. I wouldn't mind talking more with you."

Panne nodded and Chrom swore he saw her deep brown eyes light up slightly in the darkness. He smiled, but then quickly grimaced as she tore ravenously into the half-eaten lizard.

The prince shook his head and strode off toward his tent. Yeah, that'll take some getting used to. But that was progress and a conversation beyond orders on the battlefield. It's a step in the right direction.

A/N: Well, this was a tough one to write as it gave me fits, but I hope this was enjoyable nonetheless. Lot's of different characters getting a sneak peek of how they're holding up, and I thought it'd be a good transition as we hop into our next arc. But, let me know if someone felt weirdly out of character or something. It's my first foray with a lot of these characters, and I'm sure I missed something. Or maybe I hit the mark? :)

As for what's to come, is a small skip in time and a more mature attitude from Anje. She's still pragmatic as hell, but she's finally settling into the new and strange world while getting a grip on who she wants to be. She'll remain defiant (And perhaps a bit dramatic and boneheaded at times) but not as nearly antagonistic as she has been in the past. You live and learn, and shoveling poop and fighting the Walrus is one way to get there haha.

Review Response:

Guest: Well, good question! PS: It's called character growth :)

Half-Beastdragonsoul2013: Thanks for the bevy of reviews! RobinxMiriel is probably a bit more obvious with this chapter, and Olivia and Anje were meant to be foils for each other. Not sure about F!Robin personality (As I didn't plan one) but It's given me something to mull over. Also, who is Kellam?

Morsskijez: Bringing in Owain felt right, and I figured I could do it without messing up his canon recruitment. Team Drama Mamas for the win! Having so many characters join late has bugged me, so I try to look for loopholes. Thanks for the review :D

Guest: No idea, but thanks for reading anyway. All I can say is not everything is power fantasy :/

Cavik: We all need more Basilio in Awakening fics. the man is a riot to write and is oozing with comedic potential. This is not the last of him. And Anje will be showing some maturity leaps come the next chapter, so stay tuned.

TheBobcat18: As I said to Cav, 'More Basilio is better'. He and Flavia have been great to write. Glad you enjoyed the dynamic and the quickie of brutalized action. Punishing arrogance is part of Anje's lessons learning.

That's it for this update, as we will solidly be in arc 2 of this fic with the downfall of Plegia and...some fun stuff I have in store :)

As per usual if want to find more quality fics in the FE genre or a place to improve your writing check out Fanfiction Treehouse discord . gg / 9XG3U7a I can be found here under my normal user name, so come by and say hi! We also have a server podcast hosted by Me, RedxEagl3, TheBobcat18, and Narwhal Lord with plenty of other guests across the fanfiction community where we talk about fanfiction, writing improvement, and more! The Fanfiction Treehouse Podcast can be found on Spotify and Soundcloud!

Have a great day!