Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.
Minor: Dark Flier, Immortal, Boxer (Pugilist), Exploitive, Swordmaster, Angry Cinnamon Roll, Tripping, Perpetual Cheer, Chef, Blacksmith, Pegasus Knight, Teacher, Librarian, Masochist, Literal-Minded.
Standard: Elemental, Deaf, Foreign, Future sight, Tiny, Nurse/Medic, Valmese Tactician, Medusa, Goddess, Racer, Amazon, Genderfluid, Gift from Validar + evil to good, Mind Control, Banshee, Bard, Old, Dancer, Mimic, Emotionless, Khan, Crippling Overspecialization (Idiot Savant), Coward, ESP, PTSD, POW, Magician, Mute, Savage, Handicapped, Secret Helper, Crazy, Respawn, MPD, Morpher, Dreamwalker, Motherly, Lich, Twins, Regenerating, Sadist, Animal Whisperer (horse/wyvern), Naga/Tiki Assistant.
Unlikely: Chrom's child, Minotaur, Paladin, Werewolf, Assassin, Future Soldier, Bounty Hunter, Weather control, Kleptomaniac, Druid, Steampunk, Shadow Familiar, Magic Augmentation, Lucky, Exile, Piper (Charmer), Gladiator, Witch Doctor, Centaur, Drunk, Demon, Punk, Harpy, Revenant, Luck Manipulation, Demon Summoner, Megalomaniac, Kitsune, King of Plegia, Mood Ring, Reverse Aging, Hammerspace, Prostitute, Demon hunter, Cyborg, Maid/Servant/Butler, Deadlord, Rebellion, Ghoul.
Other: Pokemon Trainer, Self-insert, Second Generation replacement, Dimensional Walker, Cycle, Fates.
I discovered something new about Awakening while making this chapter. You know when you hover over a unit in a chapter it shows their stats and whatnot, and there's a little portrait of them in the corner with a magnifying glass that you can press on to show their expected class stats? Well, if they're paired up with their spouse they'll be blushing when you magnify the portrait. I just learned this, and it only applies in the magnified portrait, not the small one.
Originally this was going to be Horse Whisperer Robin, but as I wrote the chapter I quickly realized it was just Robin-learning-to-be-a-bow-knight with a Virion Pairing. So this is inspired by some of il2swim57's suggestions.
This is a long one.
"Damn you Virion..."
"Oh-ho! The lion of Rosanne strikes again!" The noble chuckles. He plucks Robin's commander off the field, signalling an end to the battle. "Good try my friend, you really where much better this time. Your rate of improvement is frankly frightening."
"I still haven't beat you though." The brown-haired tactician growls. His green eyes flick across the board, taking in the situation. "It was my gambit with the wyvern, wasn't it?"
"In part that, yes." Virion nods, twirling Robin's commander between his fingers. "But your insistence on saving every unit was your main downfall. It is all to easy to force you out of an advantageous position if you think you'll lose even one man."
"Losing a unit means losing the battle, regardless of what the game rules say." Robin insists. "I have to keep that mindset when commanding the Shepherds, it's the reason we've done this well so far."
"And we would not have it any other way." Virion chuckles. "But that doesn't mean it translates well to this game my friend."
"I'll find a way, just you wait Virion." Robin growls.
"I look forward to it." The teal-haired man smirks.
###
The war has dragged on for many months. The plegian army is vast in number, providing stern resistance despite the superior skill of both the Ylissian and Feroxi forces. The problem is that while the Plegian army might lose troops quickly, they're replenished with equal speed. Despite being landlocked with water shortages being a constant problem, Plegia has a massive population that they can conscript for their army. Ylisse has only a few recruits, mostly for the pegasus corps, and the Shepherds gain new members with exceeding rarity.
That's why Robin is trying to find a way to diversify the capabilities of his troops. It's well and good that Chrom and Lon'qu are masters of the blade, but they lack ranged options entirely and struggle against groups of lance-users like cavaliers.
That's why Robin has given the order that any member of the shepherds currently restricted to one weapon or a staff should pick up a secondary. They do not have to imminently put this new weapon into practice against skilled foes, but weak Risen groups and occasional bandit encounters make perfect opportunities to test these new skills.
What troubles the tactician at the moment though is that... well... he is one of those single weapon units. Just like Chrom and Lon'qu, Robin is a swordfighter and only a swordfighter. While he woke in that field with a tome in his pockets, he found he sadly lacked skill for magic. It's not that he can't cast a spell, he can actually cast high-level magic like arcthunder, but no matter how hard he tries Robin just can't make the magic do much damage.
The question of what other weapon to pick up has plagued him. Strictly speaking he doesn't have to, as he can cast magic, but such a weak secondary weapon won't be that helpful. The tactician wants something useful at range, so learning spears of axes might be a good idea so he can figure out javelins or hand-axes. Maybe he could learn to throw daggers, or learn to use a sling from Donnel.
But all of those weapons lack the range Robin wants. He wishes to be able to shoot down enemy mages and fliers, and hand-axes, javelins, and slings all lack the ability to hit at a great distance. No, Robin knows that a bow is what he's looking for. The problem is that there's only one Shepherd that could feasibly teach him archery.
"Ah, you're early dear tactician. So eager to lose are we?" Virion asks with a chuckle.
"I'm going to beat you this time." Robin says with determination. "But I have something to ask you first."
"Really? Does our illustrious commander need council, advice? Come, I'll happily lend my ear." The duke says with a flourish as he places his hand on his ear. "Many say I give only the best of-"
"I want you to teach me archery." Robin says, cutting the man off. "As you know, I've given the order that each Shepherd is to pick up a secondary weapon if they only have one. I want to learn to shoot."
"So you came to me, the archest of archers!" Virion says, smoothing his cravat. "Well, I'm touched that you chose me to be your teacher!"
"Don't flatter yourself. You're the only option." The tactician says in a deadpan voice.
"You wound me so!" The man says with an exaggerated gasp. "But still, I am more than willing to help you Robin."
"Thanks." He sighs.
"Are you sure, by any chance, you are not making excuses to spend more time with my noble self?" Virion teases. "I'm told I have quite the soothing aura."
Robin promptly gives him the middle finger as he digs through the chest for their game. "See this? This is all the fucks I give. One, because you're my gamesman and now my teacher."
"Just as well, my heart only has room for the fairer sex." Virion shoots back, grinning at the banter.
"And mine has none for a grown man in a bib." Robin snorts, dragging out the box. He plucks the black pieces from their spot. "I'm sure I have a strategy to beat you this time."
"I recall something similar the last... oh... twenty attempts?" The duke teases. "Today you have made a mockery of my fashion, and I shall have satisfaction! Have at you!"
###
"Middle and ring finger, not the pointer." Virion corrects.
Robin's arms shake as he tries to keep the bow drawn. Despite looking like a delicate weapon it takes surprising strength to pull back the string of a bow and hold it there. He carefully adjusts his fingers to the correct position and looks to his teacher for approval.
"Keep your forward arm straight, don't let the bow pull on your wrist." The teal-haired man instructs. "Your shooting arm should have the elbow up at head height, don't let it drop!"
The tactician grits his teeth and does as he's told. His firing arm already aches from holding the string back, and it doesn't appreciate the new position.
"Alright, your current position acceptable." Virion nods. "You may shoot."
Robin releases the arrow, and watches with faint disappointment as it totally misses the target and instead hits the dirt a few meters short. The duke of Rosanne looks pleased though.
"Well done good sir!" The man says, smiling. "We'll work on your aim another day. For now, fifty repetitions with proper posture should suffice."
The tactician refrains from snarling in annoyance. He asked for this, and no matter how much he's going to ache in the morning he refuses to complain to his teacher about it.
###
"I guess I never asked, what's your second weapon Virion?" Robin asks. He grabs his pegasus knights and moves them over to the side of the mountain, protecting them from Virion's archers.
"Why the blade my good man." Virion says. The duke flicks his great knights forward with seemingly little concern for the sages positioned right nearby, and advances all the rest of his units behind them. "An elegant weapon, just like the bow. Fit for a noble such as myself."
"Depends on who you're learning it from." The tactician mutters. He fires on Virion's knights, taking out a good number of them, and then marches his armor knights forward to protect the sages. "Chrom might as well be using a club with the way he swings Falchion around. I thought he'd choose the axe as his secondary, not spears."
"Why I'm learning it from the best around. Someone not too reliant on strength like our lord, and not too much on speed like the feroxi swordsman, instead a middle ground suited for someone as well-rounded as myself." The archer proclaims as he grabs his griffon riders.
"Stahl?"
"No, yourself." He says. The duke moves his griffons forwards an astounding distance, taking full advantage of the 'deliverer' trait, and takes a decent chunk out of Robin's elite guard protecting his commander. "Seeing as I am so kind as to be teaching you the bow, I thought it only fair you teach me the way of the sword."
Robin is scowling fiercely as he tries to find a way to get his commander to safety, but the absurd speed of the griffon riders makes escape impossible especially for a grounded unit like the commander with his pegasus knights unable to help due to them hiding behind a mountain. He's lost, again.
"Aha, it seems you've realized the bitter taste of defeat once more." Virion chuckles at Robin's expression. "But what say you? Will you aid me in my quest to learn the most heroic of weapons?"
"Fine." The tactician says curtly. He tips over his commander in resignation. "At least that's something I can beat you at."
###
Unlike Robin with the bow, Virion already has a grasp of the basics of swordplay due to it being part of his education. While he's certainly not great, he's far from a novice. Most of his training consists of adapting him to fighting in a proper battlefield and not organized duels with a code of conduct.
It's almost disheartening how quickly Virion adapts to fighting pragmatically. Unlike other fighting styles more reliant on brute strength or speed, Robin's style is reliant on solid defensive play, carefully timed attacks, reading the opponent, and abusing every advantage you can get.
Virion notes that it seems like the style of a survivor. "Don't leave yourself exposed for the sake of putting pressure on the opponent, only take risks heavily in your favour, and have no shame in fighting dirty."
"Keeping a surprise up your sleeve is always a good idea." Robin mutters as he demonstrates another block. "That way you can do this."
The tactician flicks his free hand inside his sleeve, yanks out a small dagger, and thrusts it where his opponent's head would be all in the span of a second. It's an awkward-looking manoeuvre considering his sword is still in blocking position though, and doesn't have a very long reach thanks to the dagger's short blade.
"Unfortunately however..." Robin coughs. "That's only useful in very niche circumstances. This is a parrying dagger though, it can also be used to catch the opponent's weapon so you can disarm them or strike with your main hand."
"I see." Virion murmurs. "How clever. Nothing less from our illustrious tactician!"
"Yeah yeah, flatter me all you want." He grunts, sheathing the dagger. "Two-weapon fighting is a whole other beast though. We'll tackle that another time. I just wanted to bring up the dagger thing to make a point. A lot of moves might only be useful in very specific situations, but that doesn't make them any less viable."
"Anything to win the fight." The duke says.
"Anything to get out alive." Robin corrects. "Winning is secondary to survival, always."
###
"Ready?" Virion murmurs, standing just behind Robin's shoulder. "Arms straight, aim slightly upwards, full draw... release!"
The arrow flies high through the air, and Robin watches with baited breath. The unsuspecting Risen in the distance: a lumbering fighter, is his target. It's Robin's first time firing at a live enemy.
'Live' as a relative term of course.
The arrow is so far gone Robin can't even see it anymore, but what he does see is the Risen burst into purple smoke signalling its death.
"A perfect shot." Virion congratulates, patting the tactician on the shoulder. "And now for my test, yes?"
They march closer, picking out a lone Risen myrmidon. Robin signals the rest of the Shepherds to not attack it, and the group stands ready to intervene in a loose semi-circle around Virion. The duke pulls out his rapier, takes a deep breath, and steps forward. The myrmidon's eyes lock onto the teal-haired man, and combat begins.
Unlike with his own test, Robin remains silent as Virion fights. Conversation would be a distraction that Virion can ill afford in this fast-paced fight. The duke fairs well though, keeping a strict defence and getting in close to lock up their blades. When the myrmidon disentangles his weapon, Virion punches with the hilt of his own as punishment.
It's far from an elegant fight, but the style he was taught doesn't encourage such things anyways. The important part is Virion retains control and abuses every chance to punish his opponent. Keeping their weapons locked gives the monster little chance to use it's superior speed, and any attempt from the Risen to gain distance or free its blade is an opportunity for Virion to strike with a jab from his lighter, and therefore quicker, weapon.
It's a battle of fine details, far more than most of the observers might realize. Robin nods in approval as Virion patiently blocks repeated strikes, only to suddenly riposte with a jab to the head when the myrmidon over-swings just slightly. The rapier sinks into the Risen's skull, and it's eyes fade out before it poofs into purple smoke.
"Nicely done." Robin congratulates. He walks up and pats the man on the back. "Good job not getting hasty, you played that perfectly."
"But of course!" The man chuckles. "Virion is always the image of perfection! Striking with the grace of a lion, defending with the grace of a swan, and thinking now with the mind of a snake!"
"I think that's an insult towards me." The tactician says dryly. "A snake, huh?"
"You said yourself that your style was fighting dirty my friend." Virion reminds him. "And what is more deceptive than the snake?"
"I suppose there are worse things to be compared to." Robin snorts.
###
"Virion!" Robin shouts, shoving his way into the man's tent. "I have a question!"
"Of course dear Robin, what would you ask of my noble self today?" The duke asks, seeming totally unphased by the tactician's sudden intrusion.
"Do you know how to ride a horse?!"
"That would depend on if you are using that as a euphemism or-"
"I mean an actual horse bib man!"
"It is a cravat, thank you very much... and yes, I know how to ride."
"Teach me!"
"Of course. May I enquire as to why?"
"Mobility." Robin says, catching his breath. "I realized the strategic advantage of being able to see more on horseback to due the extra height, and the mobility is a lot better too so I can get to where I need to be quicker."
"You will be a larger target." Virion warns. "There are downsides to being mounted."
"I'm aware, and I accept the risk." The tactician says quickly. "Now teach me."
"As you wish." The archer chuckles, standing up from where he was sitting. "First, we'll have to find you a mount."
###
"I hate horses already." Robin groans as he lies in the dirt. Virion strokes the mane of the chestnut colored horse that the tactician just fell off, smiling patiently.
"That mindset will need to change my friend." The duke says. "The horse can sense your nervousness and distrust; he will return it in kind. You will need to trust the horse with your life, especially if you wish to shoot from horseback."
"Grr..." Robin growls, pushing himself to his feet. "Fine then, let's do this again."
The rest of the session passes with little progress. Virion knows Robin is far too frustrated to bond with his horse, but refrains from commenting. The duke knows the tactician won't take well to being told he needs to stop, and lets the man gradually wear himself out rather than argue with him.
"Fuck this! Fuck everything!" Robin shouts eventually, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Gods, horses suck! No wonder so few us actually use them!"
"Perhaps you just lack the delicate touch for such a mighty animal." Virion chuckles. "Even the fierce Sully and cruel Frederick are soft to their horses. You mustn't forget they are prey animals by nature. Your loud personality lends itself poorly to bonding with one."
"Says the man who spout love poems to every woman he comes across!" Robin snaps back in frustration. "If anyone has a 'loud' personality it's you, dandy man!"
Virion is slightly offended, but he puts little stock in Robin's words at the moment. The man is angry, so the duke will be the bigger man and ignore what he said. "We can work on a strategy for your next lesson later. At the moment I think you could use a drink and a game."
"Yes please!" The tactician groans loudly.
###
This isn't the way it was suppose to go. This was supposed to be only a small squad of Plegian soldiers, not an entire platoon!
Robin has a retreat plan of course, but there's a catch. There aren't enough mounted units to pair up with the grounded men. Frederick for Chrom, Stahl for Lissa, Sully for Kellam, Sumia for Lon'qu, Cordelia for Vaike, Maribelle for Donnel, Nowi can carry Gregor, and Panne can take Gaius. That leaves Robin as the only front-liner still left in the fray while all his teammates are rescued by their comrades.
Robin insisted on this of course, he won't accept leaving one of his teammates behind so he takes the risk upon himself, but it does mean he's frantically dodging an entire platoon's worth of projectiles right now. The Shepherds' backline is providing as much a response as they can, but half a donzen arrows and fire spells is far from enough to deter the Plegians.
The sound of hoofbeats catches Robin's ear, and he spares the source a glance. His eyes grow wide at seeing Virion of all people riding a horse over the rocks towards him. The duke effortlessly fires shots from horseback, never loosing control despite having his hands off the reigns. When Virion gets closer he puts the bow on his back and extends a hand towards Robin. The tactician understands the gesture, and when Virion rides by in front of him Robin grabs on firmly and lets himself be pulled off his feet and into the saddle.
"Dear tactician, you gave my poor heart quite a fright!" Virion shouts over the crackles of flame and the pounding of the horse's hooves. "A heroic stand is all well and good, but you must consider the time! We still have need of your skills!"
"There was no other choice, we only have so many mounts!" Robin shouts back. "Besides, I could have lasted until someone came back for me!"
"A good thing that was unnecessary, for the archest of archers swooped in to rescue you!" The duke cries. He stands up in the saddle, again drawing his bow, and fires a shot off to the side and hits a myrmidon in the chest. "Now my good man, if you would be so kind to think up a way to win with our hundred to twenty problem, we would all be very appreciative!"
Robin shakes his head in wonder. Only Virion could fight, ride, and spout lines that sound straight out of a novel during the middle of a battle. Others would just be swearing or speaking curtly, even Maribelle. "You're one of a kind Virion!"
"Tell me something I don't know!"
"I have a plan!"
"Already? You never cease to amaze dear tactician!"
"We'll need some bows, a bunch of javelins, and a few hand-axes!" Robin shouts. "We're going to poke these guys to death from a distance!"
"Of course! My illustrious self with fetch the equipment when we catch up with the others, you inform the captain of your plan!"
###
"Really Robin, pamper me anymore and I'll get the wrong impression." Virion chuckles, accepting the drink.
"You got hurt because of my plan." Robin grunts, eyeing the cast on Virion's shooting arm.
"Ah, but the same could be said of Vaike, and Frederick, but I do not see you gifting them with tea and games." The duke points out. He eyes the board with casual confidence and then says "g5 to d5."
Robin moves Virion's queen forward three spaces. It dominates the center of the board supported by the rook in the back rank. The knight putting pressure on Robin's left side seems to be spelling the end for the tactician as he's being boxed in to a small corner. "Yeah but Frederick is being doted on by Sumia already, and Vaike doesn't appreciate good tea and strategy."
"So this is as much for you as for me." Virion hums.
"Of course. I'm not that selfless." Robin scoffs. They play for a few minutes longer, but Robin eventually concedes and tips over his king. Another loss. "Some day I'll beat you in one of these games Virion..."
"Tis wonderful to dream dear tactician, but some dreams are simply shooting too high." The duke jests with a chuckle.
"Heh." Robin sneers, but doesn't push the matter. At this rate he really isn't sure if he'll beat the man before they're old and grey. "Maybe I should get you to teach me tactics as well?"
"Heavens no." Virion scoffs. "We would barely survive the week with my plans! They're suited for the game board and only the game board." His mouth forms a smirk. "Besides, you're enough of a handful when dealing with horses, I don't think I can handle teaching you two things at once!"
###
The day of Emmeryn's execution is a frantic one. The morning lacks the usual controlled chaos of everyone bumbling around half-asleep. Everyone, even Nowi (who is a massive over-sleeper) and Robin (who is exhausted from finalizing plans all last night), are up at exactly the time they need to be and don't waste time with frivolities. There's no fanatical fitness hour this morning, the day already going to be brutal without it.
At nine everyone is ready and beginning to march. By noon they're in position near the fort where the execution is to take place. There's no organized lunch, with each member instead taking battle positions and quickly eating rations instead. They attack at one, with Robin having explained the plan in precise detail to the Shepherds and double-checking everyone knows their part.
Gangrel is standing on the steps beneath the bones of Grima with Aversa at his side as the Shepherds crest the large dune to the east and come into view. Chrom shouts a battle cry, and the Shepherds engage the Plegian guards.
It all goes so well at first. Enemy dark mages fall to Robin and Virion's arrows, the wyvern brigade is stopped by Chrom, Nowi, and their mages, and their melee units strike down Plegian soldiers with ease as they fight with flawless teamwork. This is exactly the sort of small unit combat the Shepherds are best at.
And then it changes, it all goes wrong. Just as Vaike strikes down the enemy general with his hammer Adversa shouts something loud and raises her hand. An army of Risen: great knights, snipers, sorcerers, and berserkers all rise from the ground in the courtyard. Robin screams at their fliers to flee, and the pegasus knights retreat in terror from the sudden barrage of arrows and wind magic. Their main force is pushed out of the courtyard and scattering on the dunes by the might of the powerful Risen soldiers.
The worst part is being able to see Emmeryn while all this happens. Her expression goes from hopeful to distraught. In his heart Robin knows they've failed, but he keeps shooting, keeps shouting orders, hoping for a breakthrough, a miracle.
He doesn't get one. Gangrel shouts an ultimatum, and Emmeryn steps off the platform to stop Chrom from giving a dangerous answer. She falls gracefully, almost gently to the floor, which she hits silently and then she goes very still.
Death, even elegant as it was this time, is devastating.
###
Virion did not speak falsely when he said his own plans would have them all dead in a week. It's only through whatever genius Robin possesses that they're all still alive at the moment. Even the advanced Risen summoned by Aversa, veterans of the previous war if Miriel's analysis of the insignia on their garments is correct, fall eventually to Robin's plans. A great knight is still weak to magic, a sorcerer is most dangerous when wounded so it must be killed in a quick burst, snipers are still helpless in melee, and berserkers still have trouble hitting agile opponents.
Through a fighting retreat to the midmire, the Shepherds survive. While Chrom slaughters through the Plegian soldiers blocking their way out, Virion and Robin pepper their pursuers with arrows. Miriel and Ricken lend their magic to taking down the dangerous great knights still on the Shepherds' heels, per Robin's orders they use a hit-and-run style abusing the mobility of their new horses.
Robin is in a rage though, much like captain Chrom. He snarls out orders with a ferocity the others are unused to, and he misses more than one shot purely due to the shaking of his hands in anger. Virion keeps close to the man for the whole of the day, keeping him from doing anything reckless. More than once he has to defend Robin when the man stays in one place too long and almost takes a flux to the chest.
One of Kahn Basilio's people, a woman by the name of Olivia, meets them at the exit of the midmire to smuggle them out. Chrom goes from raging to almost numb, but Robin doesn't change. He fumes the entire way back as Olivia leads their group through a winding forgotten rocky trail out of the desert back to Ferox.
###
Gangrel's death and the end of the war come in a rush. The others cheer and laugh, the people throw festivals and celebrate, but Robin remains hostile. Even Chrom, as melancholy and despondent as he was the days after Emmeryn's death, is better now, happy even.
Robin isn't though. He claims he lost the war, no matter what the historians will say. When everything was laid on the line and the thing that mattered the most to them, their symbol of peace, was in danger, he failed.
The tactician has spent the last two months in the library, pouring over strategy books, battle records, and treatises on tactics. He's looking for some way that he could have won that fight, some way he could have changed the war.
Virion sees it differently. He sees the truth: Robin is looking for a way to prove that he's guilty. The man wants desperately to be fault, to be the one everyone can point at and say he made a mistake. He wants to be the scapegoat to help others feel better about themselves... but the tactician fails to realize it isn't necessary anymore. Everyone else has moved on; they haven't forgotten, but they aren't looking for someone to blame.
Only Robin still hasn't found peace. He looks to blame the only person he can: himself.
The duke of Rosanne could have left back home months ago to try and help his people. Perhaps he should have left by now. He's only acting as a glorified messenger at the moment, relaying messages from his home on the oncoming Valmese threat to Chrom and the Kahns.
He knows why he's staying though. Robin needs help, and despite what the others might think it isn't Chrom the tactician is closest too. Virion sees a friend in need, and he's never been one to abandon a cause.
Months pass with little progress. Every day Virion walks into the library, food in hand, and finds Robin sitting at the same large table with his ever-growing pile of books. That same tattered battle map he used on the fateful day is set in front of him, punctured by a thousand pins and marred by coffee rings.
The tactician looks tired. His brown hair is long from not being cut, and his green eyes have dark rings under them. Some days he's sleeping when the duke steps in, face pressed against some book or the table where he passed out.
Every day they have the same conversation, though the exact words vary. Virion tries to get the man to go outside, and Robin refuses saying that he's so close to his proof.
It's only the sixth month when their talk finally takes a new turn. Virion walks in with a plate of food and cup of coffee, only to find Robin not slumped over his books or staring into his map. The tactician is instead looking right at the duke, and accepts the meal and drink with a quiet "thank you."
Silence follows as Robin takes his fill. Virion absently dusts off a few of the books the tactician hasn't used in a while, and waits to see if the man will start today's conversation himself for once.
Much to the duke's surprise, Robin does. "Why are you still here Virion?" He rasps, staring with dead green eyes at the duke. "The war ended a long time ago. You have a country to rule."
"So I do." Virion agrees. He crosses his legs and folds his hands to hide his surprise and sudden nervousness. He can't screw this up, this is the most interest in the outside world Robin has shown in six months. "But dear Rossanne is in the capable hands of my retainer Cherche. There is little for me to do there that I can't do here. We are at war and in need of allies like Ylisse and Ferox, and what better way to forge alliances than speaking with their rulers myself?"
"You already have your alliances." The tactician says curtly. "The Khans agreed to that months ago, and Chrom was willing to help from day one."
"So you have been keeping track of outside affairs." Virion murmurs. He sighs and leans forward, meeting Robin's gaze evenly. "I stayed for you dear Tactician. Someone needed to keep an eye on you, to keep you from going over the edge. What better than a close friend for the job?"
"Someone who doesn't have other important responsibilities would have been a better choice." Robin says harshly. "You're not needed here Virion. You can go. I'm not yours to look after. The palace servants will keep me from killing myself with exhaustion."
"Perhaps." Virion says through pursed lips. "But I care far too much to abandon you old friend. I did not struggle through teaching you to ride and shoot to see you waste away in a library, dwelling on events far out of your control. I did not play games with you every night and exchange banter and jokes to see your shining personality squandered under self-pity and self-loathing."
"Then what did you do it for?" Robin snaps. His uncut fingernails scratch the map under his hands, tearing holes in the parchment. "Why did you stay? Why are you still here?"
"That's easy dear man." Virion chuckles. "I'm not known for subtly, but I tried my very best when dealing with you to take things slow. Perhaps too slow. I think it's about time I showed my hand."
The duke reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small ring. Contrary to his usual flamboyancy it's a rather simple ring made of silver, with a small engraving of a rose carried by a bird. A robin.
"I had this made long ago, during the height of the war." Virion says quietly. "Two weeks before Emmeryn's fall, when you'd finally learned to ride the horse." His mouth quirks into a gentle smile. "You were ecstatic that day, and it only occurred to me then it was rare to see a genuine smile on your face, but I had the honour off receiving one such smile."
Robin is silent as Virion drops the ring into his hand. He stares blankly at the engraving, not sure what to think.
"It's still yours you know." Virion hums. The duke stands up and dusts off his clothes. "Now, this place is horribly dusty my friend. I think I'm going to get some fresh air. A walk around the palace gardens I think." He turns in place and struts out of the building, leaving the door open for a single shaft of light to intrude.
The tactician watches him leave. Green eyes look out the open door for a long minute afterwards as thoughts whirl through the tactician's mind. His hand grips the ring tightly, fingering the engraving.
Robin finally, finally, stands up from his spot at the table. He looks long and hard at the map in front of him taking in all the pin marks, notes, and multi-colored circles and lines. The man reaches over to the bottle of black ink at the corner of the map, and slowly tips it over. Black ink spills out, ruining the map an erasing all the work Robin has put in over the last half a year.
With aching muscles Robin pulls on his coat, dusty from months of lying on the back of his chair, and walks out the door.
I like this chapter. I'm not sure it's the best one I've ever done, heck I'm not sure if it's in the top half, but I love it.
Darkness is complete: Maybe?
Wernher von Braun: Kleptomaniac is unlikely, but already on the list. Literal-minded is minor, but a good idea.
Agent of Chaos 112: No.
Guardian54: You can write Plegia and Emm how you want, I'm not necessarily going to do it your way.
Crack ficks aren't my thing really. I take weird concepts and try to run with them, but I don't think I've ever delved into crack.
I never actually said she did pheromones at all. She just looks attractive and acts seductive.
Guest: I'll put it on the list.
Mram99: I was thinking 'low-key sociopath' when I wrote her, except I gave her room to eventually develop a more human mentality.
Guest: I like it. Doesn't really fit Robin specifically, but I still like it.
SirHaloFan: Sure? A bit darker than what I usually do though, so perhaps don't expect it any time soon.
W for Wumbo: Animorphs? I'm not familiar with that. Explain.
Darklight of the 0 arcana: Aha, but my rule doesn't allow for it… or at least not in this collection. Except maybe that minor continuation idea Vanderspiegel suggested for a chapter…
Apricot Jam Man: Cyborg? Interesting. Rebellion? Difficult.