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, Authoritative, Middle Age, Wyvern Rider.
Standard: Elemental, Deaf, Foreign, Future sight, Tiny, Nurse/Medic, Valmese Tactician, Medusa, Racer, Amazon, Genderfluid, Gift from Validar + evil to good, Mind Control, Banshee, Bard, Dancer, Mimic, Emotionless, Khan, Crippling Overspecialization (Idiot Savant), Coward, ESP, POW, PTSD, Magician, Mute, Savage, Handicapped, Secret Helper, Crazy, Respawn, MPD, Morpher, Dreamwalker, Motherly, Lich, Twins, Regenerating, Animal Whisperer (horse/wyvern), Naga/Tiki Assistant, Sleepless, Plant, Fairy, Deadly Touch, Mind Reader, Doppelganger, Arachne.
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, Einherjar, Trap, Yandere, Living Weapon, Size Shifter, Queen of Plegia, Gluttonous, Stretchy, Ninja, Alchemist, Protoss, Spirit Manipulation, Invisible, Plegian Honor Guard, Mecha, Kryptonian, Creator, Orc.
Other: Pokemon Trainer, Self-insert, Second Generation replacement, Dimensional Walker, Cycle, Fates.
Sadistic Robin… sorta? Requested by Guest and Darkness is complete. He might not be as sadistic as I originally planned, I'm bad at writing characters with 'evil' traits. Also taking some artistic license with the flail. A flail of this sort (a ball and chain) can't use a long chain or it's hard to swing, but I'm ignoring that here because it's cool.
Maribelle wakes to water being splashed in her face again. She's startled for only a moment before she remembers where she is and the noble molds her face into a defiant (if exhausted) scowl.
"Rise and shine Miss Themisia." A familiar male voice chuckles darkly. Through the faint shaft of torchlight shining through the open door she can see one of her captors leaning in to her otherwise unlit cell with a bucket in hand. "It's morning."
"Oh joy." She says dryly, and sits up on her cot. "Have you come to fetch me for more 'activities'?"
"Nope." He says. Maribelle can't see his face, but she knows the man is grinning. "I just thought you'd appreciate being woken bright and early to get ready for the day, I know how you women love your preparations. I'll see you again in, oh, four hours?"
He closes the door and shuts the lock, sealing her in pitch darkness again. Maribelle scoffs and drops back down on her cot in a decidedly unladylike fashion. Obviously she has no preparations to do and would have appreciated sleeping in, she's a prisoner. The man woke her just to spite her.
Sitting in her dark, silent and cold cell Maribelle wonders not for the first time where she is and how long her captors are waiting before giving a ransom. Maybe they've already sent a ransom message to Ylisse but haven't told her so as to not give her hope. That's a distinct possibility. She hopes they've realized they won't get anything from her, but then again they haven't really tried yet.
The duchess of Themis is not stupid, she knows that if they really thought she had something valuable to tell them they would do more than confine her to a cell and occasionally wake her up with water. It's no secret that the Plegians have torturers, and the man she just spoke to has threatened to 'have a session with her' more than once should she not speak.
She's starting to think his threats are empty though.
Without anything else to do, the duchess returns to her slumber. It's better than sitting and brooding over her situation. The more she sleeps the less she has to be awake for this awful situation before it's over.
###
"So…" The man says as he forks another portion of meat into his mouth. "If you just tell me what the Prince has been up to these last few months, I'll let you have the rest of this." He motions to the food he's eating. The crispy steak gives off a tantalizing smell, and the glistening leaves of the salad next to it are equally attractive.
Maribelle is offended that he thinks she can be baited by such a base thing as hunger. "I refuse." She says simply.
Right now she's sitting across an uncomfortable stone table from her captor. The otherwise empty room is lit by bright torchlight which is a nice change from the darkness of her cell. Surprisingly she's not restrained, apparently he doesn't think she can threaten him.
To be fair, she probably can't. He's already thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of rice with no apparent effort once before.
The bald man chews thoughtfully and carves off another piece of the steak. "I'm not asking for any world-shatting details Miss Themisia. Did he go to a party? Has he been entertaining a lady? Idle gossip is just fine."
"I didn't realize you Plegians were so desperate as to resort to gossip for information." The noble scoffs.
The man doesn't rise to her taunt. He's just as calm as her, and if she didn't hate him so much Maribelle might respect the man for that. "I'm offering you a good deal Miss Themisia. A bit of gossip for a good meal is quite generous, especially considering how little you've eaten so far."
He's not wrong, but Maribelle knows better than to start creating a rapport with her captor. Small exchanges make her more likely agree with requests. It's best to just not agree to anything. She crosses her arms and turns up her nose defiantly, refusing this exchange.
###
"It's really tempting you know." The man whispers in her ear. He's standing right next to her, violating her personal space as she's forced to stand uncomfortably on the balls of her feet due to her hands being tied above her head to a steel bolt embedded in the wall. He trails a finger over her cheek and she resists the urge to bite him, that would be undignified. "You're unscarred, so pretty. It would be a treat to have someone so pure to break in."
In truth her heart is pounding in her chest. It's all she can do to not tremble, and she's too exhausted to whimper or cry. Maribelle is long past tired of holding her head high, and is letting it droop against her body.
The man moves out of sight, and she can hear him humming as he picks up one of the many instruments on the table nearby. "Hmm… where to begin? The first strike is always the most satisfying." He cracks a whip once. Maribelle flinches at the noise but no pain follows. The man's aim is precise, he fell just short of her body. "No, no, that's too simple." He says, putting the whip down. "The first should be memorable, I need something exotic."
Maribelle prays for this session of taunting and threatening to be over so she can just sleep.
###
"So, this is the bitch you managed to snag?" The King of Plegia sneers as he gets down on one knee in front of Maribelle and grips her by the chin.
"Yes my king." The bald man says with a stiff bow. It's strange to see him tense rather than with his usual horrific calm confidence.
"Robin…" The dark-skinned lady chuckles as she sharply pokes Maribelle in the side with her long nails. "I'm surprised with you, there's not a scratch on her."
"You know my rule sister." Maribelle's tormenter, now identified as Robin, says coldly.
"Yes, yes, you only use your instruments on criminals and prisoners of war "don't count" because they're "no different from our soldiers"." The lady's distaste is evident. "You best have gotten something out of her then to justify not using your greatest asset."
"Of course I did." Robin says. Maribelle is surprised, she refused to say anything the entire time, what on Earth did he learn? "She doesn't like steak."
The duchess blinks in shock. Is that a joke?
"Robin…" Gangrel says slowly. "Are you trying to say you didn't learn anything?"
"I have a few educated guesses." Robin says slowly. "I studied her reactions to certain questions, when she's instinctively flinch and tense and such, and due to that I have reason to think the prince was on some sort of trip in the last few months and that the Exalt hasn't been growing her army."
"We already knew that." The King says thinly.
"Not true, you presumed that." Robin counters. "This is further evidence than what reports you get from hired barbarians."
"Careful what you say around the prisoner!" Adversa snaps.
"Don't be stupid." Robin scoffs in return. "She's no fool, she knows all this. That's why she got captured in the first place, trying to get our raiding parties to back off."
It's true, though in hindsight it was foolish of her. She walked right into an ambush with only a small contingent of cavaliers to protect her. She wonders where those men are now; they were captured as well but she has no reason to think they'd have been valued as highly as her.
"I'm disappointed in you Robin." The king says curtly as he stands back up. "You got us nothing of value, again."
"I did what I could my King, but I won't resort to tortue on innocents no matter how much it may help us and no matter how much I might love to." The bald man says calmly. His honesty about wanting to hurt people is frankly unnerving. "If I do that, how am I any better than the former Exalt?"
"You're not we don't need to be." Gangrel spits. "The man was a monster towards us and our people, and his own deserve no better in return."
Robin purses his lips but doesn't respond. Clearly he disagrees, and for the first time Maribelle can actually find some shred of respect for the man she otherwise hates. He's an unabashed sadist who's made her life hell but he has some sense of morality, which is apparently more than can be said for the other two.
"I expect you to do better on our trip back to the capital Robin." The King growls and stalks off to the exit. "We're going to be at war, and I won't have us lose because of your sentimentality!"
Maribelle hides her alarm. She's going back to the Plegian capital!? She's not being ransomed!? Oh gods, she's going to have to deal with more of this or worse if she doesn't stay under Robin's authority.
Naga, she feels sick.
###
The wind is cutting, but Maribelle doesn't care. It's the first she's seen of the outdoors in a month… or she thinks it's been a month. She lost track of time rather quickly.
The noble is surprised to see that she's at the border pass. They're standing on the slope of a large hill on the Plegian side of the border. Robin is standing just behind her holding the end of a chain attached to her manacles. It seems pretty unnecessary considering there's an entire company of troops here, but she is a prisoner.
She doesn't miss the metal gauntlets and a long-chained flail on his belt though. Robin is also wearing chainmail armor and a thick long coat. He's ready for combat, and Maribelle suspects she's been brought out into the sun to work as a bargaining chip.
Her suspicions are confirmed when the Ylissian banner appears over the horizon, and the Shepherds themselves march to the foot of the hill. The Exalt, in all her glory, has come as well much to Maribelle's shock.
"Hmm… small diverse squad. Definitely the Shepherds." Robin mutters upon seeing the group. "Prince and Princess must be here then."
His tone conveys no excitement, if anything he sounds worried.
"Hope your country doesn't fall today Miss Themisia." The man grunts, taking a few steps forwards. He gently pushes her in the back, signalling for her to move. "If Gangrel catches all three of the royal family, the war is over."
Immediately Maribelle realizes this is a set up. There's no real bargaining happening today, it's all an excuse to attack the royal family. "You don't plan to talk at all. You swine."
"Gangrel and my sister don't plan to talk." Robin corrects. "Tactician I may be, but I have no say in this. I'm too 'soft' according to them."
This man is soft? Maribelle shudders to think what it must be like for prisoners unfortunate enough to not be in his care.
The discussions are obviously a sham from the start. Gangrel keeps up only the barest pretense of diplomacy and quickly makes an unreasonable demand to have the Fire Emblem.
Chrom is the one to fall for the bait, and Maribelle isn't surprised. The soldiers get a little too close, and the Prince cuts them down fearing an attack.
A sudden burst of wind catches Maribelle off guard. She was so absorbed in the proceedings she didn't even think about watching her surroundings. She's equally surprised when Ricken comes running up and grabs her arm, shouting for her to run.
Maribelle doesn't even think, she bolts alongside him. The chain that was formerly in Robin's hands is now dragging in the grass behind her and the man in question is just picking himself back up from Ricken's attack.
"Lissa's gonna Rescue us when we get to the cliffside!" The boy shouts, blowing a soldier away with another gust of wind. "We might be just out of range, so jump off when we get to it!"
Maribelle does not like this plan, but she trusts her beloved treasure and if she says jump then the duchess will damn well jump… pardon the language.
###
"Wow Boss, you look like a corpse!" Henry chirps.
"Caw!" Fog says in agreement. "Caw, caw!"
"Is that a compliment or an insult this time?" The man in question asks tiredly.
"Depends." Tharja mutters as she flips through the papers. "Do you look dead because you did hard work, or because of your meeting with Gagrel?"
"Meeting with Gangrel." The bald tactician grumbles. He's lying on his back in his cot while his two retainers talk at him.
"Fun. Is that why all these prisoners are being taken out of your care?" Tharja asks, holding up a few papers.
"Yes."
"I told you being so soft wouldn't end well for you." The dark-haired girl snorts.
"You agreed with me." Robin scoffs softly and closes his eyes. "Don't pretend you're fond of injuring innocent people yourself."
"You're just as soft as he is Tharja!" Henry cackles. "And if we take that literally, you're the softest person here!"
"Caw!"
"Hilarious." Tharja glowers. "Remember you're not one of those innocent people. I have no qualms cursing you Henry."
"Nyahaha! You can try!" He chirps happily. "It's been a while since I've had a good curse to fight!"
While his retainers engage in their usual banter Robin is deep in thought. This whole interrogator business is… well fun is the wrong word, it feels like it fits him, but as of late Gangrel is making things difficult. Morality is a must for a ruler, it's what stops people like him from doing horrible things, but he's throwing that to the wayside.
That's part of the problem people had with the former Exalt, and Gangrel is succumbing to the same immorality. Robin has always prided himself of being a moral person despite his macabre interests and skills, and it would seem that the moral right no longer lies with Plegia.
The tactician can't believe he's actually considering turning traitor.
###
"You delivered the warning?"
"Sure did Boss. I put my most trusted buddy on the job!" Henry says cheerily.
"Fog?"
"Yup!"
Robin nods in approval. "Good. Any word from Tharja?
"Yeah, she sent a message back." The dark mage laughs. He pulls it from his pocket and gives it to the tactician. "It was something like: hey Henry old pal, boy your birds are great! I wish we could send messages like this all the time!"
Robin eyes the message. Tharja's first words of the letter are, to quote: "Henry, if your bird ruins my hair one more time I'm going to roast it over a spit."
The tactician decides not to comment on that. The rest of the message is directed to him and details how she's successfully managed to get some important prisoners out from the Plegian Royal Palace and is currently smuggling them to the Ylisse-Plegia border.
Tharja is skilled in hexes, and getting a few guards and a warden out of the way are no problem for someone of her skill.
She also mentions how much these people are unrepentant racist assholes towards her despite her getting them free, and that she'd be more than willing to let him have a few minutes with them. Robin is tempted to send back a message that says "you first" but if these prisoners are going to be their ticket into Ylisse without getting killed then it's probably best to have them in good health.
…
Maybe just one whip? A little cut? Gods that's so tempting. Hopefully they find some bandits on their way to the border. Robin could use an outlet.
###
It was probably a good idea to let Henry do the talking. He's a bit off, but certainly better than himself or Tharja for making a good first impression.
"We've decided to wing the other way!" Henry says with a wide smile, standing before the small group of guards. "Gangrel has deviated from the caws, and we wanna stay on the good guys' side! Just don't go talon anyone that doesn't need to know, this sorta secret will spread as fast as the crow flies if you've got a loose beak!"
There's no actual guarantee people would believe that the head hierophant's son defected, but it's not a good idea to spread info like that around so Robin instructed Henry to make sure the guards' tongues wouldn't wag.
Jury's out on if they'll actually keep the secret, but it's worth a shot.
###
"You." Maribelle seethes. She's acting unlike her usually composed self, though quite understandably so. The others all seem quite surprised though, they don't know the history between the two. The tactician's tale of being fired and then turning coat has done little to dissuade her anger.
"Me." Robin agrees. "Hello Miss Themisia."
"What are you doing here?" She asks sharply, leveling the point of her umbrella at the man.
"Robin is going to be helping us for now." Chrom says, stepping up beside the man. "I understand you two have a poor history-"
"That is understating my experience." Maribelle mutters.
"-but I hope you two can push past it to at least work together if needed." The prince finishes, ignoring the interruption. "Maribelle, you've done unpleasant things to others in your own line of work, don't try and tell me you haven't."
The noble grimaces. It's true, being involved in the law means upkeeping it… which can mean enforcing laws when they really shouldn't be enforced and hurting the people you should be helping.
She has to enforce old racist wartime restrictions that were never redacted because the upper lawmakers are too lazy, busy, or just racist themselves to change them and Maribelle lacks the authority to do it herself. She must also lock up the poor man for stealing regardless of the fact that it's the only way he can feed his family, and she can't offer aid afterwards because it's 'unprofessional'.
Maribelle has played the villain as much as she doesn't like to admit it. It's her job to do so on occasion. Not to the extent of Robin, but Chrom unfortunately has a point. They're both doing their job, and she knows very well that Robin was as lenient on her and others to the point of getting fired for it if his story is true.
"Fine, but I won't be happy about it!"
"I never expected you to." Chrom says with a flat expression. Maribelle feels slightly miffed, from the way he's saying that it sounds like the Prince is saying he never expects her to be happy. The prince turns to look at the rest of his team and says: "anyways, Robin and his retainers will be helping us for the next while. Consider them Shepherds for now, and treat them accordingly." The blue-haired boy glances at the man and his two dark mages. "Same goes for you three. Act accordingly."
"Of course." Robin nods. The white-haired mage behind him nods as well, and the black-haired girl reluctantly copies them.
###
"Bleed for me!" Robin laughs. His flail swings in a wide arc and cracks the unfortunate bandit across the knees which sends the man to the ground screaming in pain. The tactician doesn't end him instantly, and makes a show of slowly walking forwards while twirling his flail in a circle by his side. The chain is so long he has to hold the handle in one hand and the halfway point of the chain in the other and twirl it from there. He savours the wimperings of fear and pain for a few seconds before he finally smashes the man's head in with the ball of his flail.
"Can you not?" Sully grunts, killing her own foe cleanly and quickly. "Ugh, that's creepy."
"If I wanted to, but it's so fun." The man chuckles darkly. "I love the looks on their faces. The pain and fear… it's such a rush!"
"Nyhahaha! I just love the crunching noise when their skulls break!" Henry cackles. "It's so bloody, and their brains look so mushy!"
"Ugh…" Tharja grunts, kicking aside a dead body. "Boss, if you've had your fun can we finish this up? I have ingredients to collect."
"Why do I have to deal with these Plegians?" Maribelle seethes, healing an injured Stahl. "I suppose it's better than my precious Lissa being sent with these lunatics."
Usually six people is a bit much to deal with a few bandits. Chrom wanted Robin and his team to go out though, but didn't trust them alone so he sent three other Shepherds along with them.
"Henry, can you send your crows to go see if there's any bandits left?" Robin asks.
"Sure can boss! You hear that Fog?"
"Caw!"
"Thanks buddy!" Henry smiles. He waves at the large black bird as it flies off. Fog caws several more times, summoning up the rest of her murder to search.
"Just give them a few minutes." Henry says cheerily. He takes a seat on a log and starts poking at one of the dead bandits' brains with a stick. "Oooh… it's still warm."
Maribelle shivers. She can't wait for this to be over.
###
"Unhand me!" Maribelle hisses. Her attempts to get away are thwarted by her own dislocated leg. The troubadour feebly hits the bald man on the shoulder, and when he decides he's had enough he pins her to the ground with his legs so she stops squirming.
"If you keep moving you're only going to make it worse." The man says. "I'm going to fix your leg."
"D-Do you even know how?" Maribelle gasps in horror.
"Yes. I did it all the time during interrogations." Robin says calmly. The noble is not reassured.
"Th-That means it's painful!"
"Well yes, I don't know how to use heal staves and yours is broken anyways." The man grunts. "Now stop squirming. Trust me, you want me to do this right the first time."
The lady falls quiet. Her horror is painted on her face, but the man isn't going to be deterred (and he can't see her face anyways). Maribelle realizes this has to happen though, they're in the middle of a forest with bandits around and no other healers nearby. Leaving her leg dislocated would only be a hindrance.
"On three." Robin says calmly. "One, three."
Maribelle is thrown off, and that probably dulls the first moments of pain a very slight amount. That said, it's still agonizing.
"In future missions maybe I should bring some freeze root extract." The man mutters. He's totally ignoring her barely concealed screams of pain as he holds her leg and hip in place. "I never thought I'd actually have a use for an anesthetic, that sure would be nice about now."
"Oh really?" Maribelle growls to herself in a decidedly unladylike fashion. "Thanks for reminding me!" She keeps that part inside though; even in her time of weakness she wants to show some level of composure.
"You know, this would be exciting if you weren't my teammate." Robin says conversationally. His voice is dispassionate and unemotional, and Maribelle can't tell if he's disappointed she's not someone he can torture or if this is his way of expressing empathy.
Either way, she's still thinks he's a terrible person.
###
"Gangrel." Robin greets calmly.
"Traitor!" The King responds with a sneer. "I can't believe you're actually showing your face to me! You should know I won't let you away alive!"
A battle may be raging around them, but both men are focused on each other alone. The other Shepherds are steadily battering back Gangrel's personal guards and it's only a matter of time before the Mad King is captured or killed.
"Says the man who's backed into a corner with his whole army deserting him." The tactician says. He swings his flail lazily, letting the head rock like a pendulum beside him. The bald man isn't expecting to be the one to kill Gangrel, he's fully anticipating Chrom to run in at any moment and do the job himself.
"And who's fault is that? You abandoned us in our time of need." The man scoffs. "All because you got sentimental and mad over me giving you a slap on the wrist."
Gangrel is referring, of course, to taking away his prisoners. That was admittedly the straw that broke the camel's back, but it was hardly the only thing that drove Robin to turn coat. "My fault or otherwise, it doesn't matter. You need to be stopped and that's what we're doing."
"I need to be stopped? Bah! I'm disappointed in you Robin, I never took you for a bigot. Have you forgotten what the Ylissians did to us? The pain they caused? The people the killed?"
"No, I haven't. I'm not fond of being on the Ylissians' side." Robin admits. "But I do what I think is right regardless of how much I want to do otherwise."
"And this is right? You've ruined Plegia! The people will not survive another depression, but that's what you've brought on us by helping the Ylissians! They'll be starving, broke, and in pain! The bandits were only kept occupied because we pointed them at Ylisse, without our money they'll turn back on easy targets, our people!"
"I know." Robin says flatly. "But there are other ways of dealing with that problem aside from war, and if that's lost on you then it's really not my fault. You'll be dethroned, and hopefully someone less stupid can be put in charge."
"Yourself?"
"Hardly." Robin snorts. "I'm no ruler, and that's not a problem for me to solve." Starting to get bored, the man looks around the battle for Chrom. He doesn't think there's much longer he can stall Gangrel before they come to blows.
The blue-haired prince has noticed the conversation, but he's tangled up with a hero and myrmidon and can't disengage. Robin resigns himself to a fight and swings the head of the flail so it sits just behind him. When he attacks he wants the head of his weapon to travel further to gain more momentum, it's slower but stronger.
"Trying to evade responsibility are we?" The King sneers. His fingers go to his levin sword when he sees Robin preparing to fight. "And considering to strike against your own King as well! My, you've fallen so far."
Robin casually drinks a speed tonic, grimacing at the bitter taste. "I could say something similar about you but I won't bother. You've always been stubborn."
"You just don't have an argument, you know I'm right!" Gangrel laughs. His sword flicks off his belt, sending sparks dancing in the desert sun. "Come on, traitor! Try me! The Mad Dog of Plegia is the alpha for good reason!"
With a snort of irritation Robin stomps forwards. The spiked flail head drags in the sand, creating an uneven trail behind the tactician as he moves. With a sharp flick of his hand he sends the head and chain through the air in an arc, which the King effortlessly avoids.
The fight is clearly one-sided from the start. Gangrel's reflexes are more than enough to dodge Robin's telegraphed swings of his flail. The Mad King peppers the tactician with bolts of lightning from his own weapon which the man is mostly avoiding in large thanks to the speed tonic he drank. Still, the bald man is suffering small electrical burns from the attacks that do hit.
"Chrom!" The tactician shouts. "Anytime would be nice!"
"Busy!" The prince shouts back.
Robin grunts when a bolt of lightning hits his shoulder. Pain crackles down his arm, but he retains his grip on his weapon. "Grima above, I need help!"
"And so you'll get it." Maribelle's haughty voice says, sounding obviously peeved. Cool healing magic pulses through Robin's body, and it's a welcome contrast to the heat of the sun and his electrical burns. "Do finish up. We're in a battle, this is no time to play with him."
"Your faith is grossly misplaced at the moment, but I appreciate it." Robin grunts. "Avoid getting zapped please."
"As if a brute such as him could hit me." The troubadour scoffs.
"That sounds like a challenge!" Gangrel cackles, changing his focus. "A bitch on an ass? That's an easy target! You'll die next!"
Both Robin and Maribelle are glad it never comes to that. Maribelle's healing keeps Robin on his feet long enough for Chrom to swoop in and take down Gangrel.
The whole experience is Robin's first real taste of being a punching bag, and he'll admit a sort of morbid fascination to be on the receiving end of constant pain for once. It's not pleasant, but he can't say it deters him from inflicting it on others. The difference (in his opinion) is that people he hurts deserve it, if anything he feels satisfied he brings this upon the assholes of the world.
Gods lighting stings though.
###
"Well, it's been something." Robin says, addressing what few of the Shepherds actually came to see him and his retainers off: Chrom, Frederick, Emmeryn, Libra, Donnel, and Maribelle. "Under better circumstances… well let's be honest, we still wouldn't have liked each other. Under better circumstances we would never have worked together."
"I can't say I disagree." Chrom admits. "For what it's worth though, I'm thankful for your help."
"Likewise." Robin sighs. "Hopefully, hopefully, Plegia can start healing now, but knowing that our raids were providing most of the food for the country I don't have high hopes."
"Our trade deal-" Chrom starts.
"Might help." The tactician interrupts. "But don't count on it making some miraculous improvement. The bandits, now not being paid to hunt your land, will turn back to easier targets, namely Plegian villages. The trade routes will be assailed, and there's only so much that can be done about it."
"Are you sure…?" Emmeryn whispers, looking crestfallen.
"No, I'm not." Robin admits. "I'm neither politician nor leader. I don't know everything that can be done, I'm making a guess. Perhaps things will turn out better than I expect, perhaps not." He glances at all of them individually, giving each Shepherd a nod. "Prince Chrom, Lady Emmeryn, Frederick, Libra, Donnel, Miss Themisia… goodbye. Let us hope we don't have to meet again. I hate to think of what awful circumstances could force us together again."
"Quite right." Maribelle huffs. "You're the most unpleasant man I've ever had the misfortune of holding respect for."
"That's more than I expected." The bald man says honestly. "I'm stunned at your capacity for forgiveness Miss Themisia."
"Forgiveness? Not even close." She scoffs, turning up her nose. "Begone before I lose my patience."
Robin chuckles dryly. "As you wish." He bows to the group and his retainers follow suit. The three then mount their horses, turn around, and ride off back to the desert.
Maribelle couldn't be more glad this part of her life is over with.
Originally this version of Robin was going to have a man catcher, but that was hard to work into the story and it's not really a weapon suited for war.
Shakuras: Unlikely but fine, definitely at some point, not sure what NG means, genderfluid is already on the list, slime has already been done, and no.
Darklight of the o arcana: Yep, so many edgy people wanted to see Goddess Robin apparently.
Darkness is complete: Sure. That's a story-breaking power though, so… unlikely.
Pengaius: I'll label that Doppelganger Robin.
Guest: Sure, why not?
Some guy paragon: I guess. I don't play that game, so if I ever do it I'll be basing this off D&D style orcs probably.
FavChanger: It's reassuring to hear that my representation wasn't completely off. My main worry was that I was going to get some fundamental part of Autism totally wrong, because I put a lot of thought into that chapter and was terrified it would go over poorly. Everything could have gone wrong. I was worried I was portraying her inability to read emotions wrong, or her sensitivity to sound and touch, or her coping mechanism, or just so many things that could be completely incorrect.
Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed my messy first attempt at making an autistic character.