Disclaimer - I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

Warnings for nasty words

Chapter 8

Well, I effed up.

Is this fate's warped way of punishing me for trying to skip the events of the game? Who knows anymore? All I know now is that my reputation has been bashed to a pulpy mash and shoved out a window.

I glare sullenly at the back of Raimi's shiny armor. Then I share another with Frederick's.

Huh, notice how all the recent stupidity comes from those in heavy armor. I wonder if there's a correlation between heavy armor and loss of common sense? I should take this up Miriel and see if we can hypothesize something. Oh wait. She probably hates my guts too. Never mind, carry on.

The only person still actively talking to me is Kellam. Kellam!

Virion tried once or twice at small talk but I snarked back pretty hard at him. He laid off after that, giving me time to cool down. I'm sure Sumia would have tried but she's stuck airborne on that finicky Pegasus of hers. The best I've gotten is a wave.

So, instead, I've silently brooded the day away while Kellam's chatted nonstop about everything under the sun. Apparently he's starved for a good conversation after being blessed with the suck known as invisibility.

I guess it's a relief that someone's still talking. This whole thing has been traumatizing. At least the conversation has gotten my mind off things. That and the scenery.

Regna Ferox has a vaster expanse of ecosystem than Ylisse does. Stretching the length of the continent, we left the fort at the very edges of its wild and mountainous northeast region. The coniferous forests that bordered the rocky ranges gave way quickly to vast plains that had been flattened from glacial advances eons prior.

The old roads we walk on are broken and cracked with grass strands poking through. Maintenance had been long abandoned after the empire grew too fast to take care of. As new epicenters of trade and growth opened up, the older sections of the county fell into disrepair. Iconic castles and stone structures from Marth's era stand crumbling and forgotten amidst the more modern cities going up around them.

It's weird to be walking these roads and seeing the ghosts of the past around us. Their bleached skeletons rising out of the ground remind me that once, centuries ago, famous heroes like Marth could have walked them. However, what remnants of their era remain are merely shadows of the grandeur they once were. It's a grim reminder of the passage of time.

That's funny. How is it that I have a near flawless memory of Fire Emblem lore but I still can't remember the name of the street I live on?

Raimi's estimate about the timing is spot on. We left the wall near the end of the morning. Our arrival to the city occurrs just as the sun hits the horizon. Not bad I guess. We'll be able to find a real bed to sleep in and I won't have to worry about camping with Big Mouth Mcgee.

The Feroxi city is a flaming mess. Compared to the finely manicured shininess that is Ylisstol, this is a millenia away. What were once proud stone walls have fallen into disrepair. Wooden posts stand upright bridging the gaps in spaces between. A few men and women in mismatched garbs and weapons stand at the gates and dot the walls.

The city streets are awash in the colors of many different cultures and countries. It truly is one big melting pot. There's very little interest in our arrival though. We must look like every other mercenary band tromping through. The inhabitants bluntly walk into us, push us to the side, and even cuss if we get in the way. Vaike even ends up stopping two pickpockets from running off with the money purses of both Miriel and Stahl.

We huddle together a little closer after that as Raimi walks us to the Khan's mansion. We pass the market on our way up from the lower residential areas. The long street is packed to the gills with vendor booths all yelling and shouting. The raised voices of those haggling over the wares mixes with the merchants'. Exotic smells of spices and herbs waft over and I feel my curiosity peak. If we weren't in such a rush I would love to have perused the wares.

The top of the arena pulls ever closer as we cross a bridge over a polluted looking river that separates the lower and upper halves of the town. As we touch down on the other bank, a large circular building comes into view. Masses of people crowd the plaza around it. Mixtures of rich and poor, old and young walk the cobblestone surrounding the massive structure.

Raimi makes an offhand comment about the place but I'm too transfixed on the size to notice. Mother of Godiva chocolates, that's where the fight is going to take place! I crane my head back to take in the sight. There's a flash in my mind of some sort of sporting center I've been to before. Hockey?

Either way, comparing what I have in memory to this is a huuuuuge difference. This circular monstrosity trumps what I remember by a long shot. Cripes, this is big. Over the bustle of the city I can hear the cheering erupting from inside its confines. I wonder what exact kind of entertainment they have besides the fights.

We finally come up to a rather large estate. Raimi speaks hastily with the guards and they let us pass through the gates with suspicious glares.

The small inner courtyard has seen better days. Once finely manicured, the grass has since grown wild and free. Vines twine around an empty pool and the statue of a woman in the middle of it is missing both arms. Raimi leads us inside and we stop in the main foyer. Like the outside, the inside is a mess. I guess Flavia isn't one for pomp. It wouldn't kill her to dust though.

"Here we are Shepherds, my Khan's personal residence. She'll be expecting us so I can take you right to her. The faster, the better."

Chrom looks surprised. He probably figured we'd at least get to rest first. "If that's what you believe is best. We'll follow your lead Captain." He turns toward the rest of the group. "We'll be back shortly everyone. Remember, we're guests here in the Khan's residence. Stay on your best behavior." He then turns toward his sister.

"Come on Lis." The two begin to walk but Chrom pauses as he passes Frederick. He stares at the man before nodding slowly. Frederick instantly comes to life. He inclines his head in response and then follows after the two. The group disappears into the hallway and the rest of us are left alone.

Sully is the first to move after their departure. She stretches out her arms and swings them around in circles. She starts to walk around as she does so, searching her surroundings. "Well it's about damn time we got somewhere with a real roof. I was getting a little tired of seeing canvas every night."

"Real pillows would be nice..." Stahl says dreamily.

The group all throw in comments about appreciating civilization once again. I continue to simply hover in the back and just listen. Eventually, Sumia notices me and walks over. She eases in slowly, approaching me like I might flee at any second. I give her a tired grin in greeting.

"How are you Robin? Are you feeling alright?" she asks, clearly concerned. She shuffles about on her heels. "You've been so quiet."

"Never better Sumia. What would make you think otherwise?" My strained attempt at humor misses the mark. Sumia looks only more troubled at my words.

Well, I can't lie now. "No, Sumia, I'm not alright." I sigh heavily. "It seems being accused of being a Plegian is that big a deal, huh?"

She hums in thought. "I...Yes. Plegia is full of some truly horrible people. They've been attacking us for so long. Some of the other Shepherds have even lost loved one to Plegian attacks."

"Shit. No wonder everyone freaked out." I kick at some invisible rock with my boot. "So this is hitting a little closer to home than I originally thought."

Sumia looks at my coat. "Yes, it's unfortunate. There's so much hate on both sides. It makes me sad to see things as they are." She falters, then continues. "Do you remember anything? Maybe why you have this coat? Or even anything about where you're from? Could you possibly be...one of them?" Her voice is barely a whisper as she speaks the last word. She watches me apprehensively, waiting for the inevitable answer that could change everything.

And I sincerely wish I could simply say no.

This whole ordeal is twisted. On one hand, it's obvious I'm not. I come from...well, somewhere. Give me another few days and maybe that will come back to me. Point is, that place is not here. It's on Earth, a dimension and a couple hundred years of technological progression away.

But then there's the other ugly truth. The real Robin, the one who should be here now, is more Plegian than Tharja, Henry, and Gangrel put together. Hell, in a few years when daddy dearest takes over, they'll technically be royalty themselves.

My gaze flits to the mark on my hand. I'm not sure where the real Robin has run off to (dick move by the way you punk), but I've suddenly become the surrogate for them. While I play this role, everything lore wise is still in effect. 'Robin' is a Plegian offspring from two Grimleal worshippers and nothing can change that. So while I still carry this horrible legacy, the truth is somewhat verified.

Frak. This is making my head hurt.

"Sumia, I really don't know," I finally say, choosing to stick with being ambiguous until things clear up. "I could be or I couldn't be. Maybe I am from Plegia and I was on the run from the Grimleal faction. Maybe I was just an unfortunate traveler and bought this coat on discount from a seedy trader for warmth. I really can't remember. All I know is that, as of right now, I'd like to think of myself as Ylissean. It's the only place I can relate to right now."

I don't want to keep playing this amnesia game but what can I do? My back is against the wall right now. I need to keep afloat until I can get to Marth.

Sumia scrutinizes me, squinting in concentration. After a few seconds, her face relaxes. "Okay. I believe you now more than ever Robin!"

"Sumia...thank you," I respond. My heart restricts painfully at her words. I don't think she know how much I appreciate it.

She looks back over her shoulder. "We should talk to the others though. It wouldn't be good for us to keep this all bottled up inside."

"Now? Is this the best place?"

"Maybe not but everyone is gathered at least. Once they hear for themselves what you said to me then they'll have to believe you! If you get everyone on your side then even..." She trails off. "Well, we can say that everything can go back to how it was!"

"Yo, you okay over here Sumia," Vaike calls out as he walks over to us. He casts a quick look at me.

"Yes Vaike. Why wouldn't I be? I'm just talking with Robin," she replies innocently.

"Well yeah, I can see that. Just want to make sure nothin' is, uh, wrong or anything."

I feel annoyed at the way he keeps looking at me, like I'm some criminal. I'm especially ticked at the way he said that last sentence. "What does that mean?" I squint.

"Like I said, nuthin. Just checking up on her is all."

"There's nothing to worry about," Sumia politely reassures him.

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" he asks again with that same questioning tone.

"Okay now! What does that mean?" I point out, my anger starting to rise. "You aren't that subtle Vaike. Just come out and say what you mean!"

"Look, Teach don't mean to stir the pot or anything but there were some pretty crazy things said. I'm just looking out for her."

"Vaike, please. There's nothing to be afraid of. Robin isn't the enemy."

He leans back and crosses his arms. "According to who?"

"Robin herself."

"And you're just gonna take her word for it?"

Sumia gasps loudly. "Vaike!"

"I'm just saying-"

"Shut up Vaike," I snap.

" 'ey, I'm talking to Sumia not you."

"And I'm standing right here while you talk in circles about me. So don't play that game!" I flare, poking him in the chest with my forefinger.

Sumia wedges in between us. "Robin don't! Getting angry won't help."

Our joint yelling has caught the attention of the other Shepherds. Sully starts to walk over. Her one arm is raised and poised as if ready to make a grab for her sword. "What's going on over there?"

"Nothing!" Sumia protests.

"Doesn't sound like nothing." Her voice is low and challenging.

"I kindly told Vaike to shut his mouth before he says something stupider," I growl.

"Why? He's got every right to question something if he's got a concern. Unless you don't want him asking questions for some reason," Sully responds.

"No! Of course not! I just don't appreciate all this sudden assumption making on whether or not I'm some sort of evil cult leader. No one's even asked my opinion on it besides Sumia here!"

"There isn't much to ask. It's obvious you're going to deny it," she points out.

"For the love of...All I'm asking for is a little bit of faith here. Hasn't these past few weeks meant anything?" I cry out as I throw my hands up in the air.

"Exactly! You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Listen to what you're saying! How could you?" Sumia blurts out suddenly. It's a bit surprisingly to see sweet and tame Sumia looking upset. She sure can yell.

Vaike reels back under her accusations. "Woah, now Sumia. Just hold on..."

Sumia quiets but the rage doesn't leave her eyes. She battles with her thoughts before throwing a finger out at Vaike. "No. No I won't hold on. I want you to listen. Robin is a good person despite wherever she may be from. Without her help I would never have survived that encounter with the Risen. She...she was worried about me even when hurt herself!"

"Yeah but she could be-"

"She's not!"

"We don't know that! What if that Raimi gal is right? You wanna to take that risk?" Sully butts in.

"Sully, easy. Maybe she's right," Stahl finally joins in. He places a reassuring hand on her arm and tries to soothe her temper. "Shouldn't we try to take her word for it."

Sully pulls violently away from him. Her eyes are full of raw emotion as she speaks. "To hell with that! You know what happened to my brothers Stahl. Those bandits weren't just country bumpkins raiding the hillside. You know where they came from! Naga's ass! Do you think I can just let this go like it's nothing?"

"Sully..."

While they continue to argue, Miriel comes up to me from behind.

"This is truly an unfortunate conundrum for you Robin. I offer my sincerest condolences toward this unfortunate incident. Such scrutiny must be overwhelming for you."

"It fucking sucks."

"Colorfully worded. May I offer my services in an effort to help establish your innocence?"

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. "You believe me?"

She shakes her head causing her hat to sway. She quickly grabs at it to stop it from flying. "Not at all. I will not submit to any truth until an accurate amount of evidence is accumulated. However, I find this arguing exhausting and wish to return to some semblance of quiet so that I may continue to ruminate upon my work."

"Your faith in me is appreciated Miriel," I respond flatly.

"Would you care for a supportive gesture to instill a sense of relief?" Miriel reaches out and woodenly places her hand on my shoulder. She clears her throat. "Believe in yourself because tomorrow shall be a better day."

"What does that have to with the situation right now?"

"Was that not a supportive sounding statement? Perhaps you wish for another? I have memorized several from a book on how to encourage others."

I rub my forehead and wave her off. "No Miriel. Just...tell me what you want to do to help."

"Yes, of course. I would like to ask you a series of questions and then assess your responses to each one. By scrutinizing your natural reactions, I should be able to catch a keen understanding of whether you speak the truth or not."

"You want to interrogate me?" I recoil back.

Miriel adjusts her glasses with her hand. It's a particular tic of hers that happens when she's about to explain something. "Bluntly speaking. The body reacts to psychological stimuli in certain ways according to their true emotions, regardless of what feelings the speaker wishes to instill on others. There are key reactions that occur subconsciously when one lies. What I can detect during our questioning can help to douse or kindle the allegations against you."

"And they'll really believe you?"

She gives me a stern glare. "Do not underestimate my abilities Robin. I fill more roles than one in the Shepherds. Interrogations are a specialty of mine."

Ooo, that is a creepy vibe. "Okay. Right then."

Miriel's blank expression returns. "Do not fear Robin. This will be a short examination. Simple responses shall suffice."

I can't believe I'm resorting to this to try and prove I'm not enemy to the group. What a world...

Miriel grabs me and straightens me up. She then leans back, her eyes boring into my own.

"Are you from Plegia?" she questions point-blank.

"What? I-no? I don't know I said."

She nods. "Are you a spy sent to infiltrate our military?"

"No! Of course not," I protest vehemently.

"Do you bear us any ill will?"

"Miriel, that's like the same thing almost!"

"Just answer."

"Oh for the love of...NO."

"And have you had any prior remembrance of this coat or its origins?"

"No. No. No. And no again! How is this helping?"

Miriel ignores me. She steps back and starts to look me over critically. This is so weird. First I get the second degree and now I'm being scrutinized like a piece of meat. This honestly sucks but if it makes everyone more inclined to believe me then whatever. It's not like they've got truth serum or polygraphs to tell them otherwise.

The mage starts to walk around me and she disappears out of my line of view. I hear her footsteps circle around me.

"Woah!" My body jerks as two cold fingers press up against my neck.

"Stand still Robin," Miriel says from behind me. Her clammy hand is pressed up against my pulse. She stands beside me testing my heartbeat with each pump it gives. Her foot slowly starts to tap in rhythm with it as it goes.

"Fascinating." She pulls back her hand and then circles back around me. "Fascinating indeed," she repeats.

Her actions have caught the attention of the rest of the group. They've been watching her silently for some time now. Finally, Vaike throws out the question on everyone's mind.

"Oi, Miriel. What are you up to?"

"Contesting the truth from our friend. I have attempted to use my skills of observation and logic to ascertain her true intentions."

"You gonna let us know then?" Vaike pushes.

"Affirmative."

"And?"

She frowns. "My conclusion is...inconclusive."

"Whaaaat? Ain't this your suppose to be your thing?"

Miriel stares critically at him. "While I admit to excelling in the field of kinetic and visionary reading, sometimes assessing the physical stimuli of a subject is proven to be too unreadable. Robin is displaying several signs of fallacious speech: heightened pulse, shifting in one's eyes and torso, fidgeting of the hands...And yet certain factors do need to be taken into account."

"Her psychological state of being has clearly been disrupted after the telling words of our guide. To ignore this would be an erroneous fault. The pressures of social acceptance and self awareness have been pushed to the limit. Her symptoms are equally equatable to feelings of being nervous, distraught, or even despondent."

"Meaning...?"

"She's upset about Raimi's accusation and how we've be treating her you big moron," Sully sighs. She looks me over, dissecting every feature. "So Miriel. You're saying she's either a terrible liar or actually unaware of everything."

"Correct. My inclination is to believe the latter, however."

I gape at her. So she does believe me?

Miriel waves a hand in dismissal. "Do not mistake this assumption as being based on emotional pretexts. Logically speaking, Plegians, especially those of the Grimleal sect, are naturally violent. Studies of their culture have shown that Grimleal fanatics believe that death is the ultimate reward. It is why they show no fear in brazenly attacking their targets. They have no need for subterfuge when their objective trumps the need for self preservation. They choose to strike with reckless abandon in hopes of proving their soul worthy of Grima in the afterlife based on their sacrifices shown in the Fell Dragon's name."

She nods a final time. "As far as I have seen, Robin does not actively engage in any sort of trademark behavior fitting a Grimleal member, especially that of a high ranking personage."

"See! Even Miriel thinks so!" Sumia sighs in relief. She gives me an encouraging smile.

Virion dramatically steps up from the shadows where he has waited in silence this whole time. "I too, will cast in my vote of support for Robin. She is too brave a woman to be affiliated to this dastardly organization that you all speak of." He throws a knowing look at Sully. "I know this because I had not even known her five minutes before she had thrown herself most heroically forth to selflessly lure away the foul Risen hounding our steps the first eve we met. Isn't that right, dearest knight of my heart?"

Sully suddenly looks abashed. "I...guess so."

"I think we should give her a chance too!" Kellam exclaims behind everyone.

"What do you think Stahl?" Sully says, ignoring the other man.

"I don't know. This could all go either way but..." He runs a hand through his hair, clearly contemplating his next line. "I think it's only fair to give her a chance. Wouldn't we be just as bad as the Plegians if we simply assumed the worst and punished her for it?"

"You both have a point." The red knight mulls over the points just made.

"Hey guys? Anyone?"

Sully turns to Vaike. "How are you feeling about this? You know just as well as I how these dirty dastards can get."

Vaike's face contorts into a look of agitation. He keeps squinting at me, switching between anger and confusion. "I ain't sure what to think anymore. If ya look like a Plegian then what's to say otherwise. But there's no denying you've been fighting like a good guy right with us. This whole thing is making the Vaike's head hurt."

A heavy silence envelops us. Everyone looks lost in their own thoughts regarding the situation. And here I stand in the center of it, the most confused out of them all.

Our powwow is interrupted by footsteps echoing in the hallway. A second later, four familiar faces return.

"Captain!" Sumia exclaims enthusiastically. "You're back!"

"Yeah. The meeting with the Khan just adjourned and-" Chrom stops abruptly when he takes in the somber scene. "What's going on here?" he says warily.

"We were, uh, talking sir," Stahl timidly answers.

Raimi catches wind of the situation and starts to shift away. "I've already explained the rooming situation to you Your Highness. I'll leave you to your crew now. My quarters are in the west wing up the stairs if you have further need of me." She bows her head and moves toward the stairwell.

She pauses before Kellam, who is standing in the way of the steps. "You mind moving?"

He looks startled. "Excuse me?"

"I'm asking you to move your big self out of my way."

Kellam just stares at her, mouth open in shock. Raimi scowls and finally pushes him to the side to march past. He continues to stare after her in silence, watching her retreating form.

Chrom's voice pulls me back in. "Anything interesting about this conversation I should know about?"

Everybody quiets down again. Nobody wants to be the first one to bring up the elephant in the room. Least of all myself. It's getting weird to be talked about like I'm enemy number one.

Lissa pulls at her brother's arm. "Chrom, we should do this later. Let everybody get settled in first. They're probably just as pooped as I am."

He looks over the crowd once more. "Alright. Listen up. The Khan has accepted our proposal though there are some strings attached. I'll discuss this, amongst other things, with the group after we've found our rooms. Khan Flavia has set aside the western wing for us to take up residence in for the eve. Any one room if open for the taking. Claim your own and settle in. Her attendants will come to gather you for dinner when it's ready."

A collective sigh emanates through the room. The Shepherds warily trudge toward the indicated hallway.

"Not you Robin. I want to talk first."

Shit.

Frederick pauses mid-step and seems torn between saying something and continuing on. Chrom flicks his hand at him, indicating for him to go. The great knight begrudgingly agrees. He throws me an unreadable look and then marches on with the rest.

Chrom leads me to the room the group disappeared into. It's small and consists of a large table and many chairs. Probably some sort of meeting room. The place bears little other adornment besides a cold fireplace and dusty, sun faded curtains around the window.

I wait nervously for Chrom to start.

"Flavia wants a favor for a favor," he begins.

"Because when does anyone do anything for free anymore?" I grumble.

Chrom gives short, dry laugh. "True. Charity seems to be a foreign concept nowadays. Regardless, I had to agree to the conditions she set forth. Things aren't as simple here in terms of power as it is in Ylisse."

He starts to walk around the table toward the window. He stops and leans against the pane, staring out to the courtyard. "Flavia is willing to give us the military aid we seek but she lacks the authority to do so. That right lies in the hands of her rival, the West Khan Basilio."

I nod mutely. Same old, same old.

"Apparently we aren't completely at a loss. By some luck we've arrived just on the eve of the annual tournament that decides which of the Khans is to hold power for the year. Flavia's proposed we fight on her behalf. If we win for her, she gets the power and we get an army."

I rest against the table and hoist myself up until I'm sitting atop it. My legs tangle over the edge and swing idly back and forth. "That's a lofty requirement."

"That it is. She briefed me on the rules and many don't affect us. However, there are a few that worry me. For starters, no healers are allowed."

"That's odd." Wasn't like that in the games. I guess reality can be different from fantasy.

"It is," Chrom agrees. "Feroxi culture seems to frown on healing. They prefer to fight until the bloody finish."

"Surprise, surprise. What else?"

"The only other thing of concern is the participation count. Apparently the match type we're involved in has a limit. Six is the most we can have."

"That's a problem considering how many warriors we have currently." It makes some sense. The Arena level had a low unit count for the map. I suppose that can translate to the rules here. A small team versus a small team. The actual battle space is much smaller than the outside so you have to limit the contestant count somehow.

"Yes, that's why I want to ask for your opinion on it. Flavia tells me that her rival Khan is predictable. He uses the same team almost every year. Two mages, two ground warriors, two heavily armored knights, and one swordsman, his chosen champion, to lead them."

I do a mental count in my head. "Hold up, he's got seven there."

Chrom gives an annoyed sigh. "Basilio gets an advantage. He's the reigning Khan so he's entitled to one extra."

"Unfair."

"It is but we've got more than enough talent to make up for numbers." Chrom's unwavering faith in the Shepherd's never ceases to amaze me.

"That brings me to another interesting point. Basilio's typical champion has been ousted by another."

Wait for it...wait for it...

"It happens to be our old friend, Marth," he says dramatically.

And there we go!

I shake my head."Surprise reunion! Guess we'll have our work cut out for us then."

Chrom pushes off from the wall and walks back around to where I sit. "Yes, that's why I want your opinion on who to put out."

"You sure about that?"

He frowns at my response. "That's why you're here, isn't it? I took you on as a tactician for your martial advice."

"R-right. Um..."

I sit back and think on it. If Basilio is sending mages then Sumia would be a good shield to that. Pegasi, if I recall, are magic resistant. Plus she'll be agile enough to fly past many of their attacks. I'm sure of it.

As for the heavy units, Miriel will be a shoe-in for that. All of our normal weapons will bounce right off their armor, but her magic can circumvent that. She'll need someone to keep her safe though. Maybe Vaike? They've been fighting pretty well together whenever I saw them on the map. Plus, he is our sole specialized axe wielder at the moment. It's not like the game mechanic rules really apply all that much but it's nice to have some weapon variety out there.

Who else? Well who can't we use? Lissa is out for sure. Benching Virion would be good too. His arrows will just bounce off the big units. I'd rather have someone functional for all fronts.

Then there's me. As much as I'd like to just run out there so I can grab Marth but the ear, it wouldn't be wise for the team. I'd be a liability. Making sure Ylisse secures the Feroxi support is just as important as my desire to talk to Marth. It's not like she doesn't know I'm here either. I'll just have to find her somehow after the match. I'll look for where Basilio's team resides and confront her when she tries to leave. That's just how it has to be.

So, that leaves Kellam, Sully, Stahl, Frederick, and Chrom. Chrom is an obvious yes. He has to be there to take down Marth. I'm going to have to suggest Frederick too. He has the most experience out of anyone on the team and can function both offensively and defensively. Just one slot left. Since Sully and Stahl always seem to work as a team, I'll hand that spot off to Kellam. He should do nicely against the axe heads with his shield.

I repeat my thoughts back to Chrom. He listens patiently as I speak, digesting all of it as it comes.

"- and Sumia will work well for her agility too. She'll easily be able to swoop past a projectile and get in close to pin the rival team member down."

"Alright, and your last suggestion."

I intentionally left Frederick last because I'm not sure how Chrom would handle it. But I have to now. "I'm going to suggest Frederick."

"Really?"

"Yes. He's our most advanced fighter. Frederick is schooled in every major martial weapon and boasts both speed and defense. He'll provide all the support you need. He can be your shield when attacked and a fellow fighter when you're engaged. He's the best partner you can have in the battle, especially if Basilio's front man Marth is as good as he seems to be bragging about."

Chrom thinks hard on my last bit. His hand settles on Falchion's hilt and taps against it as he always does when he needs to think deeply on something. "That's interesting," he says quietly.

"What is?" I question.

"Nothing. Thank you for your input. Believe me when I say it will help me as I put the team together tonight."

"You're welcome."

"Take the remainder of the night off Robin. I'll have Flavia's attendants bring something to your room later. I'd feel better if you got some rest after today."

"Are you sure?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes. I have to explain the situation to the rest of the Shepherds anyway. I'll only be repeating myself for you," he replies as we start to head for the door.

"There's nothing else you want to say?" I don't really want to talk about what happened earlier but it has to happen. I'd rather just rip the band-aid right off and get to it.

Chrom catches my meaning. He looks conflicted for a moment, then shakes his head. "I'd rather we talk later after you've had a chance to relax. You've endured enough stress as it is."

That's...surprisingly sweet of him. "Fine. I guess I should go find a room then, if you're done speaking that is."

"I am. You're relieved."

The door shuts behind us just as someone shouts. Down the hall Lissa stands. She yells her brother's name again and beckons him over.

"Guess you're needed still. Looks like your jobs never ends," I chuckle lightly.

He exhales. "Doesn't it? I wonder what madness awaits me now?"

I hover in my spot, unable to leave just yet. I still have an apology to make for my attitude earlier.

"I, um, that is...I'm sorry about what I said earlier at the wall. All of it. Yelling at Raimi like a moron and then snapping at you after it all went down. That was immature of me."

"It's fine. I know you meant nothing by it. The whole situation was ridiculous. Now go rest up before I turn my request into an order."

"Heh, yes sir." I turn and take a few steps.

"Robin," Chrom calls out.

"Yeah?"

"I swear on Naga's name, if you apologize to me one more time for something I really will make you sleep on a bed of logs just to toughen you up. Got it?" He looks serious but there's a playful edge to his tone.

A tiny smile escapes me. "Right, I'll try not to. Sorr- no! I mean I will. I'll keep that in mind." I wave and then retreat into the recesses of the corridor.

I cover my mouth as I walk and try to suppress the ever-growing size of the smile. I don't know why but his small gesture at trying to lift my spirits worked. It's funny how Chrom has that effect on people. He can just naturally instill a sense of calm and peace in someone if he tries. I suppose that's why he's the leader here. There's a natural aura he gives off that makes him so likeable. It just draws you right in.

I walk halfway down the hallway before I realize I have no idea where I'm going. I slap my forehead and then meander around looking for someone to help. It takes a bit but I find a lone house attendant cleaning a tarnished mirror. He walks me to one of the alleged guest rooms and I settle in.

I slide out of my coat and let my bag, boots, and weapons trail behind me as I slowly move toward the bed pushed against the back wall. I throw my arms out and fall face first into the mattress. Holy Gods of Ylisse! This is amaaaazing!

I inhale the sweet scent of soap and clean sheets. Majestic! Feather pillows, where have you been all my life? I wiggle forward until all of me is on the bed. I grab one of the pillows and hug it close to my body. I loosen the top most blanket and roll around until I'm one giant bed burrito.

"Heaven," I murmur into the soft sheets. The comfort and warmth are a beguiling temptation and it doesn't take long for sleepiness to sneak in. I drift off into the best nap I've had in days.

I awaken sometime later. When I peer at the window it's completely dark. I wriggle over in my bedding cocoon and peek out the through the pane. The moon is a quarter of the way through the sky already. So not midnight but still late enough.

I kick out of my blankets and stretch. Bones crack as I straighten out my limbs after my little sleep. I draw my legs over the side of the bed and look around.

The room is pretty but lacks any personal touches, fitting for a guest room. I slide off the side and walk toward a door on the one wall. I open it up and see a small, condensed version of the bathroom the castle in Ylisse had. The tub is more like a bucket you'd kneel in and the "sink" was little more than a pump and bowl on a table.

And there was a mother-loving chamber pot in the corner. At least it was a gold color so I could feel fancy while trying not to defecate on myself.

I peruse through the tiny room and find some soap and bottled whats-its. I uncap them and peek inside. One looks like an oil and the other a flowery scented liquid soap. Maybe some primitive version of shampoo? Please Naga. Please be merciful and let it be so.

I slam the door shut behind me and enjoy a thorough half hour of pampering and cleaning. By the time I finish the water in the tub is browned with dirt and swirling with other nasties. Gross.

I'm primping myself in the mirror, enjoying my freshly cleaned hair, when a knock resounds from my door. I quickly straighten my clothes and head over to it.

When it opens, I'm greeted with the sight of the attendant from earlier. "Miss," he says in greeting. He holds forth a metal tray that is discoloring in many spots. Atop it is a steaming plate of food.

"Oh hell. That looks amazing." I continue to stare at the plate, mouth watering.

"Perhaps I may come in to set the food down so that you may actually eat it?"

"Ha, ha. Sorry," I laugh awkwardly. I move aside and let him in. He heads over to the small table in the corner and sets it down. He places the silverware next followed by a mug. I go to immediately jump at the food but his hand shoots out to stop me. When I look down, I see a rolled parchment in his grasp.

"A message for you as well."

I take it from him, eyeing the yellowed parchment. "Thanks but who is this fr-"

The attendant has already moved around me and disappears wordlessly from the room. The door shuts with a resounding boom.

"Rude much?" I say as I shake my head.

The chair scrapes against the floor as I pull it out to sit in. With my free hand, I grab at the two pronged utensil and dig into what looks like some red meat. I push around the piece in the gravy that it swims in, slathering it up good. When I take a bite, I'm suddenly reminded of home. Beeeeef. It tastes like beef stroganoff. My taste buds are screaming.

Simple as the dish is, props to whoever made it. The flavors are phenomenal. I scoff down half the plate before I remember the message. I take another munch before unrolling it.

Someone's penned up all the information about the fight tomorrow for me. Let's see...Starts at noon? Huh, thought it would be later. Okay, what else? Rehash of the rules, yada yada. No healers but healing items are allowed? That seems backwards but whatever. What else...

The team is going to meet early before hand at the arena for preparations. I'll be expected to leave with rest the others an hour hence for...

"WHAT?" I spit.

I drop my utensil and reread the last lines over and over again.

'I'll expect you to be in the main foyer an hour beforehand to leave for the arena with the rest of the group. Don't be late. You know how important this is."

I stare hard at the name signed on the bottom.

Chrom

"Son of a...Why?"

I rest my forehead in my hand and stare down at the paper. What is he doing? Is he insane? Chrom wants me to fight? He asked me my opinion and I gave it to him! So he just ignored it. Great. Fantastic. I guess he wants us to fail.

Who'd he replace me with then? Miriel? Kellam? Why?

I push my plate away, my appetite suddenly lost.

Should I talk to him about this?

I could but it probably won't do anything. He already asked for my opinion and clearly he didn't like what I had to say. So talking to him further would be a waste of time.

"What are you doing Chrom?" I whisper.

This...this is crazy. What could possibly be gained from this? While I'm honored that he finds me "talented" enough to join his little squad, it means little when it puts our plan at such risk. Somebody has to tell him this is a mistake. Someone with enough history and trust to sway his opinion. Someone who's logical and persuasive.

My stomach drops. There's only one person I can think of who fits the bill.

Frederick.

"Goooooods," I gripe as I lean back in my chair.

I did not need this. I have enough on my plate with trying to figure out how to talk to Marth. This needs to be done though. Bite your pride Robin! Suck it up and act your age! This is a problem and it needs to be remedied.

I somehow force myself up and out of my chair. My feet drag me to the door and I step out of my room and into the hall. I don't know how to lock it but whatever. I hardly think anyone is going to find anything of worth in my bag.

Coincidentally, Frederick's room is the only one I asked about intentionally earlier on. I wanted to know where I should avoid walking. Ironic I'm heading there now. I inch down the hall and around the corner towards his room.

This isn't how I wanted our first talk to go. Serious damage control needs to be done between me and him, but the fate of Ylisse's alliance is at hand and that trumps any personal agendas. Frederick's probably the only one Chrom will totally listen to so we need to talk regardless of my apprehension.

I take a deep breath, my hand hovering inches above the door. This is either going to be an utter disaster or a much needed absolution. I pray it's the latter.

My knuckles rap against the wooden door, its echo hollow in the empty corridor. I quickly retract my hand and wrap my arms protectively around me. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared to death right now. Every second that I stand waiting there causes the nausea to rise in my stomach. Oh God, please no! Don't let me throw up here of all places.

My stomach drops when I hear the latch begin to turn. Okay Robin. Breath. You can do this. You're both reasonable and mature adults. You can talk this out.

The door opens and is left ajar. I hear footsteps fade back into the room. I hover outside, unsure. Not the reaction I was expecting. I cringe in apprehension and then tentatively push the door open a ways more. I peek in through the crack and see Frederick walking toward the back of the room. He heads toward a dresser where he begins to busy himself with something.

"Please take a seat milord, I shall only be a minute. Allow me to finish preparing the tea."

Oh, crap. He thinks I'm...?

I shuffle all the way into the room and gently close the door behind me. I stop myself just short of entering the main room, instead opting to hang as close to the door as possible. Just in case I need a quick escape route. One can never be too careful.

A quiet settles over the room. Aside from the tinkling of ceramics and our own breathing, neither of us makes a sound. Eventually it becomes too much for me and I awkwardly clear my throat.

I hear the tea set rattle and Frederick's whole body goes rigid. Slowly, the great knight turns his head and his dark eyes settle on me. It takes ever ounce of my courage not to shrink away. I force myself to look right back and try to hold my head high.

"Frederick." My greeting is weak and barely above a whisper.

"Robin." He replies, flat and emotionless.

My tongue is so heavy. It's like lead in my mouth. Damn, woman. Where's your guts? Pull yourself together! My hands ball up and dig into the creases of my coat. I take another breathe and try to center myself.

"Look, I know things aren't great between us right now and I would happily talk about those issues any day of the week. But right now, we have a small problem."

He watches me, waiting for me to continue.

"Your boss is about to do something really stupid."

There! A flicker of interest, finally. "Do tell," he says slowly.

"He wants me to fight in the arena tomorrow."

Yep, that got his attention.

"Did he write anything to you in your message? Maybe a list of who's fighting tomorrow?" I hold mine up and shake it. "I only got a summons and the basic rule set."

Frederick looks hard at the note in my hand. "I did not receive a thing."

"You didn't? You had to have! I specifically told...No." Oh no. Tell me Chrom didn't do what I think he did. "Did he replace me for you?"

Frederick leans forward, intent of hearing me out."You're blathering Robin. Speak clearly!"

"He wanted my opinion on who to take to the field tomorrow. I-I told him to assemble a team consisting of the six people needed, including you. If you didn't get a summons then I'm going to assume that he swapped us. Why would he do that?"

"Why indeed?" he questions. "That makes no sense at all."

"No kidding! Frederick, this alliance is important. You have to fix this!"

Frederick's face grows cold. He lets out a hollow laugh. "You wish me to fix this? What makes you believe I can?"

"Naga's white derriere! Say something! You know Chrom will listen to you!"

"Since when?" he suddenly snaps.

I step back in surprise at his sudden outburst. "What do you mean?" I say in confusion.

"It seems to me that your word weighs more than my own with each day that passes. Since your arrival, he has sought my guidance less and less, instead turning to yours. So tell me Robin, what place does the advice of a lowly steward have against that of our illustrious tactician."

What the hell is he going on about? This isn't like Frederick at all! I don't understand.

"Frederick, I'm sure he still values your advice. You've all been together years and you haven't steered him wrong once. He won't ignore you."

"Truly? Take a moment to think Robin. Whose side is it that he takes in battle now? Who does he turn to first for our battle plans. Who did he defend at the Wall?" he rambles.

"Don't use that as a valid example Frederick. You were being wholly unfair there!"

"I was being rational when no one else would. How am I to react when my lord is slowly placing all his faith in the enemy?" he retaliates hotly.

"I am not your enemy!" I grit out.

"Then prove it."

"I CAN'T!" I shout. "Don't you get it? I don't know how! I don't know anything! I am right fucked Frederick! Understand?"

"You-"

I cut him off before he can blather on more.

"No! Shut up and listen! I have tried my damnedest to work with you all. I don't know any of you. I don't know where I am. I don't even know where my home is. I never asked for any of this!"

There is a pressure building in my sinuses and my eyes are starting hurt from the way they're scrunched up. "But I know that I'm a decent person and you're all good people so I'm trying to do what I can to help. The Shepherds are all I have for a family. Ylisse is the only place I know to call home. Helping the Exalt is the only job I know how to do right now. Without this, without all of you, I. HAVE. NOTHING."

I slam both my hands on the table and lean forward. "I can't tell you anything about my past but I can tell you about my present. It's here, with all of you. I don't care if I was born in Plegia, the moon, or a cavern at the bottom of the ocean. I'm an ally to the people who picked me up off the ground at my lowest and gave me chance to live. And I'm an ally whose trying to get you to help change a big problem that could destroy any chance of help those same people have against the growing threat of weird-ass Risen and those punks you hate so much across the border. So cut me some slack already, okay?"

I make a pitiful half snort, half gasp as I finish. Everything in sight blurs into a watery haze. I wipe at my face with the back of my hand. Of course I'm crying. I'm breaking down like a bawling child right in front of the one person whose hating my guts the most right now. I painfully scrub my face with my sleeve and make a grotesque sniff to suck up the offending dribble threatening to fall.

"Damn it, this was not suppose to happen," I mutter. I bite down hard on my tongue and try to stifle the need to sob.

Everything...everything sort of came out. I didn't mean to. It just sort of exploded forth.

My hand gropes for the chair beside me. I pull it out and sink into it just as my knees start to shake. I mumble out some sort of apology and ask for a minute. I keep my head in-between my hands to hide my face. This is pathetic.

I hear the rustle of clothing as Frederick moves about. I don't dare look up, scared of what he might say. Instead, I crunch my eyes shut and revel in my pitiful existence. Why is this happening to me? I don't understand.

I'm not cut out for this. I'm not smart like the real Robin. I don't have their charisma or their political tact. I can't instill awe inspiring courage or rally strength when it's low. All I'm good for is decorating cakes and pulling off a mean game of charades. How does any of that equate to being a war tactician? Shit and pickles. What is my life? One big cosmic joke for somebody?

Something clinks onto the table beside me. I peek through parted fingers and stare at a tiny white teacup with bluebells dancing around the lip of it. My nose gives another disgusting sniff as I peer curiously at it.

"What-?" My voice cracks before I can finish the sentence.

Frederick is already back around the table and pouring another cup. "Drink," he says somberly. "Thistleberry. It's a rare blend from Valm. Supposedly it does wonders for one's senses."

"I, um, don't drink tea," I say bashfully as I play with the handle with my finger. Frederick stops and gives me a long look. "I suppose today's a good day to start though! Cheers," I strain as I take a hold of it.

The taste is sour and citric. It's not a strong taste like the coffee I'm used to. Its crisp aftertaste reminds me of summer.

Frederick finishes with his own cup and he sits across from me. He takes a sip, savoring the taste. Clearly he's a fan.

The room is silent as we sit there with our tiny porcelain cups. Aside from my audible slurping and sniffing, no one braves a sound. I find it hard to look at him so instead I busy myself with my cup. I twist it around and count the stupid flowers around the border to try and take my mind off things.

Slowly the twist in my stomach begins to unravel. The geyser in my nose goes dormant and my eyes dry. My snorts become tiny sniffs and then even breathing. There's still a heaviness in my heart but it's not to the same depressing extent it was before.

Finally, unwilling to deal with the quiet anymore, I find the strength to speak.

"This is good," I say dully. I raise the cup to emphasize my point.

Frederick looks tired and unsure. He shifts his own cup uneasily in his grasp. "I am...pleased to hear that."

"Look," I huff, "I didn't plan for that to happen. Really. I just came here to talk about the arena fight. So..." I trail off, unsure what to say anymore. I'm not going to apologize but I do slightly feel bad about suddenly going off like that. Again, not enough to say sorry because it is kind of his fault.

Frederick stares into his cup, deep in thought. It's hard to read his expression. His forefinger taps along the handle idly to some unheard rhythm. Finally he speaks, though he does not look up from his cup.

"No. Perhaps there is some necessity in you speaking those words. Some of what you said has caused me to ponder. It seems more apparent now to me that I may have caused undue hardships based on my own..." he struggles with the next part. "...my own growing discomfort with the situation."

I timidly take another sip of tea. This could really use a sugar cube. Or five. "You mean my sudden appearance in the group?"

"Yes though it goes deeper than that." He rests back in his chair, trying to get comfortable. "May I indulge you in a story?"

"Sure. I don't know what else to say anyway."

Frederick stares somewhere over my shoulder, his eyes far off. "You are most likely not aware but I come from a long line of retainers belonging to the royal family of Ylisse. My family has served the Exalt for as many generations as the family has had heirs. There has never been a royal on the throne who did not have a man or woman of my family serving faithfully behind them."

He smiles a little. "We take pride in serving not only as stewards for their daily lives but also the shields at their sides and the wisdom in their darkest hour." He takes a long draught of tea before continuing.

"I was already some years in age when Her Highness was born and a young child when her brother followed. Despite the few years in difference, I was accepted as their generation's manservant and raised to be such. Theirs was a sheltered childhood and it was oft that I was the only youth available for interaction. With their mother's untimely passing and the Exalt's...affairs in foreign diplomacy, it fell to me to be both teacher, parent, and friend."

"You're all practically family," I muse. "

"Aye. They are..." He suddenly clears his throat as an uncomfortable look creeps up his face. "Simply understand that our bond goes deeper than that of a typical retainer and his charges."

I think I'm beginning to get an idea of what the issue is here. This isn't just a simple case of Frederick being a paranoid goof. This is deeper than that. "You're jealous I'm hogging their attention?" I throw out.

Frederick glares at me in response. "Gods on high, you describe like some petulant child," he says stubbornly. "I was- am worried about how quickly you simply jumped into our lives and changed everything. It's almost unnatural."

"So, what? When Raimi brought up the point about me maybe being Plegian you freaked out? What'd you think I was doing? Hexing them into liking me so I could perform some dastardly deed when they least expected it?" Frederick eyes me in a way that seems to confirm my last line. I blink. "Are you serious? Frederick I was joking. Is that even possible?"

He shifts in his seat, his tone flustered."Dark magic is a fell thing, one I am not familiar with. For all I am aware, it is a valid spell."

Oh my God. You big dope. "Frederick!" I whine. I take a deep breath and calm myself. "Now you're giving me too much credit. I'm nowhere near capable of something like that. You know this."

"You very well could have been masking your own abilities."

I roll my eyes. "Absolutely Frederick. I'm so worried about exposing my true powers that I'll even take a stab wound from a Risen just to protect it."

"I admit that I can see the fault in my thinking Robin. I would appreciate you not dwelling on it further."

I set my elbow on the table and rest my cheek in my hand. I twirl the teacup in my other, watching the liquid spin inside. "Given what you're saying, I should be a lot more mad at you. I'm sorry I've been stepping on your picturesque life but you've blown this to some pretty extreme lengths Frederick. What you said affected the rest of the Shepherds to some degree you know."

"I am aware. Milord is already doing what he can to sway their opinions. Before the night is over I have no doubt he will have convinced them otherwise. He is gifted with a tongue of persuasion equal to that of his elder sister."

"Does that include you too?"

"I..." Frederick clams up, unsure what to say. He looks conflicted, like he just can't shake his negative feelings.

I feel my anger starting to peak again. "Frederick, seriously? I'm trying to make this work. I don't want things to be awkward between us, especially now more than ever. If what you say is true about how close you are with the siblings, then it's even more important that we somehow get along. The three of you are what causes the Shepherds to function. If something's off with even one of you then the rest of the team will suffer. Look at how strained everything is at the moment. I don't want that and I'm sure you don't either. I want it to go back to how it was when we were travelling here."

I'm getting the feeling that Frederick is an extremely proud man. He's having an incredibly hard time admitting that maybe things aren't as crazy as they seem. I get it, it's tough to admit when you're wrong.

Technically I could meet him half way. It's understandable where he's coming from. He's in charge of the most important figures in the realm. There's probably a hundred different dangers Frederick has to look out for everyday with them. Assassins, poison, bandits, natural disasters...It must be tough. I guess watching some bizarre woman who knows utterly nothing about her life suddenly weasel into the Shepherds and become the prime decision making force behind it is weird. Frightening even.

He was probably the one Chrom and Lissa turned to for help when they needed it most. Whereas Emmeryn is their big sister, Frederick is probably the equivalent as an unofficial older brother. If it's been that way all their lives, it must be both unnerving and emotionally frustrating to see me suddenly usurping that attention.

"Piss," I mumble. "This is just all sorts of crazy."

I set my cup down and readjust my sitting position. "Can I say something on this?"

The knight nods wordlessly.

"I think we're ignoring the big factor. Chrom and Lissa themselves."

"How so?"

"Frederick, they're growing up. Hard to admit it, I'm sure. You probably have only known them as the little royal babies you've been surrogate parenting since their births. But that's over now. Chrom is a young man and Lissa's on the cusp of adulthood as well. They're going to want to look to other places and people for support as their circle grows. It's impossible to remain the sole center of their universe. It's not your fault. And it's not mine."

Frederick stares off into the ceiling of the room, rubbing his jaw as he thinks. I leave him to his thoughts, hoping what I said made some sense.

Maybe, just maybe, I reached him somehow. Cause, in the big picture, neither of us our really at fault. Sure I feel guilty about unintentionally stepping all over Frederick's paternal feelings. At the same time though, he can't let his emotions run wild with his logic.

The great knight suddenly lets out a long stream of air. He massages his temples, his eyes closed in defeat.

"There is validity in your claim," he finally speaks. His voice is low and strained. "It is not like the thought hasn't come to me Robin. I have simply been in denial of it. You must understand, this is not about me losing control of them. Gods forbid, I would never dream of that. I only wish milord and milady to grow and flourish but..."

I hold my hand up, sparing him the emotional expense. "It's fine. I know what you mean. Emotional attachments and all that. You're extremely lucky to have that. Better than I can say for me," I finish somberly. Before my mood dips somewhere negative, I continue on with the most important point of all.

"Frederick, your opinion will always matter more than mine in the long run. You're family to them. Nothing can change that, no matter what happens."

"Hm," he grunts in acknowledgment. He finishes his tea and stares into its empty depths.

"You truly suggested I be the one to take part in the arena tomorrow?" he asks.

"Absolutely." I snort in annoyance. "You really want some sub par twig of a woman like myself watching Chrom's back in the arena while we fight for the fate of our alliance? Please."

"Perhaps you aren't as hopeless as I thought."

"And perhaps you're not as big a jerk as I thought, " I fire back.

Is it just me or does the air feel a tad lighter. It's like the weight of the room has lifted.

"So you're going to talk to Chrom about this swap of his, right?"

Frederick's chair scraps against the floor as he rises from his seat. He takes his empty cup in hand and heads to the dresser. "I will do what I can Robin."

"Thank goodness! We may be able to save tomorrow after all." I take a large swig of tea. "You know, this stuff isn't half bad. I think I've been converted."

Frederick turns and makes to respond but promptly freezes. He sets the kettle down and straightens up. "Milord!"

I swivel in my chair and blink in surprise. The door to Frederick's room is wide open and our captain leans up against the side of it. Instead of looking stoic or angry, he looks downright pleased!

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," he says. "This is the last thing I would have expected tonight."

He walks forward, pushing the door shut behind him as he clears the frame. Frederick jumps into motion pulling out an extra chair before scrambling over for more tea. I hide a smile behind my sleeve. It's endearing how seriously he takes his job as a steward.

"Please seat yourself milord. Allow me make you a cup. I had expected your arrival far earlier so I beg pardon on the temperature."

"Easy there Frederick. No need to drop everything on my account. I was held up and I apologize for that. Lissa had some things she wanted to talk about."

He casually drops into the chair beside me. "So what's this all about? I had thought I would have to force you two into the same room for a talk."

"Well you see-" I begin.

Frederick cuts in."Robin thought it fit to bring up certain grievances and amend them. Several topics branched from there and here we find ourselves now."

"Oh really," he gives me a sidelong glance."And?"

"Things are...better," Frederick responds plainly. "My reservations may not be as strong as they were before."

"Still suspicious though? I suppose a little is better than a lot," I shrug. "How could Frederick possibly live up to his name without doubting everything under the sun?"

Frederick starts dropping what looks like sugar cubes into the tea. "I am ashamed to admit that I may have overreacted just a tad earlier."

"Just a tad?" I say incredulously. He gives me a look that screams 'don't push it.' I just smile sweetly back at him and drain my cup.

Chrom shares a proud grin with the two of us. "I suppose that solves some problems then. That's a relief. I was worried about what I was going to have to deal with tonight but I'm happy to see that isn't quite the case."

I shake a finger at him. "Don't get that optimistic. We aren't bosom buddies quite yet. Something tells me if we resume training after this everything is going to get a lot worse."

Frederick huffs as he places the tea-cup in front of Chrom. "And rightly so if you wish to prove to me just how much you plan to dedicate yourself to the Exalt and her family."

Chrom gratefully takes the drink. "Frederick, I want you to mold her into a warrior, not a martyr."

"I allow her one ten minute break every two hours. That is plenty of time to recover milord." Frederick notices my empty cup. "Shall I arrange a refill for you Robin?"

"No thank you. I should head back to my room now. I'm sure you have some important things to discuss." I emphasis heavily on the wording to remind him about swapping me out for himself. Frederick gives me a subtle nod.

"Beg pardon but allow me to arrange a new glass for myself then."

Chrom raises a few fingers in acknowledgement. "That's fine Frederick."

The other man turns to the kettle to pour more. While he busies himself, I rise from my seat. Before I can leave, however, I find myself stopped. Chrom reaches out and lightly touches my wrist. I halt and look toward him, puzzled.

"Thank you for doing this," he murmurs.

Frederick turns back around and Chrom quickly leans back into his chair. The knight's quick eyes catch the movement and they shift suspiciously between the two of us as he sets the cup down. Chrom takes another drink and casually looks on.

I, on the other hand, promptly twist away to hide my burning face before Frederick can get any wiser.

"I'll let you talk then. I suppose I'll see you all tomorrow," I say quickly.

"Aye, that we will."

"Have a good sleep Robin."

I duck out quickly and start to walk back to my quarters. I slap my cheeks lightly and try to shake off the embarrassment. I've never been good with gratitude and experiencing something as intimate as that threw me for a tizzy. I heighten my pace and make a quick run to my door.

I reach my room and enter it once more. It remains as I left it, untouched.

The disheveled remains of my bed beckon me in. I remove my boots and shuffle over to the sheets. It isn't hard to get comfy but the jumble of thoughts in my head makes it hard to settle down. I push them from my head as best I can and try to catch some Z's.

I close my eyes and hope for the morning to come soon with better news. If worse comes to worse, I wonder if I'll have enough time to find someone to write a will for me before I die of shame in the arena.

Naga's dimpled butt cheeks! Look at all those people!

I stare out the space between the wall and gateway leading to the arena. Those stands are packed. They make the Coliseum look like a schoolyard.

I step back and lean up anxiously against the wall. I can't believe this is happening. Despite whatever Frederick may have said last night, I still ended up getting the call to head out this morning. The anger I felt earlier slipped away into depression and now I'm finally reaching the sense of inevitable acceptance.

I watch the rest of the chosen Shepherds bustle about the room as they ready for combat. Our leader stands with one of the officials in the corner discussing who knows what. Vaike hogs a corner all to himself. His axe gleams brightly from his earlier polishing frenzy as he swings it back and forth in warm up exercises. Miriel sits polite and straight upon one of the benches. Several tomes are lined up around her and she flips through each of them. Most likely contemplating skills and spell strategies to use against the other mages. Kellam sits across from her adjusting the various armor pieces on his legs. His spear lays propped up against the seating beside him.

Sumia only just left, leaving with a worker toward the stable entrance. Already briefed on the plans, she will emerge from another entrance beside us where those with mounts emerge.

I wonder if anyone is as nervous as I am?

"Robin, what luck! I had feared I would arrive too late!" I see a familiar figure speed toward me from the entryway.

"Virion? How did you get in here?"

"Oh ho! Never doubt Virion and his magnificent skills! But I digress, I am here for you! I come bearing a gift from your most ardent admirer!" He sighs. "And other friends as well," he adds hastily as if their contribution didn't matter.

He procures a small vial and holds it toward me. It is a deep blue and the firelight from the walls reflects off its gem-like container. Something sloshes on the inside of it.

"What is this?"

"Consider it a token of good faith, darling Robin. Despite what you may think, there are those of us who remain that believe in you and worry for your safety. Should you find yourself in danger, use this vial. It is an elixir, a powerful healing component that carries more power than that of a vulnerary."

Wow. This is like the holy grail early on in the game and Virion is just handing it to me. I know he means it in good faith but I don't know if I can take something so important. I would rather it be used on another Shepherd.

"Virion I appreciate it, but are you sure you want to give me something so valuable?"

Virion reaches forward and places a hand under mine. He draws it forward and then presses the bottle into it with the other. He leans in and puts on his most serious face. "Please Robin, you must! It pains me even now to know that you venture toward that barbarous lot without me. Carrying this with you gives me the smallest of reassurances at least."

"Thank you. Really. That means a lot."

"But of course! Naturally! What sort of gentleman would I be to let you wander into danger without some token of my desire for you." His grasp tightens. "You must stay strong Robin for I could not-"

A loud cough interrupts his speech. We both turn to see Chrom standing beside us. His gaze shifts between our faces and intertwined hands before turning to the archer.

"Virion, I don't mean to intrude upon your talk but you should return to the stands. We are to begin shortly."

"Alas, it is that time already? My lord, is there perhaps no changing your mind on allowing me a spot in the games today? To allow Robin here to wander without proper support strains my heart. I would most like to accompany her and be her shield when the enemy bears down upon us!"

"No."

The two of us startle at his blunt response.

Chrom catches himself and quickly covers up his annoyed look. "What I mean is that it's impossible. The rules state the Khan's team can only carry six people. Any more would be a violation. Aside from that, it's too late to change anything as the roster has already been accepted. My apologies Virion."

The archer stares blankly at Chrom. Suddenly, his face curls into a Cheshire grin. "But of course my Lord. How silly of me to ask! I should have known better. I promise that I will not bother you again on this matter. Bonne chance, my friends." He bows and departs. As he passes me he throws a quick wink before sauntering off.

"What the...?" I murmur as I watch his retreating form. Did I just miss something? I throw a questioning look at Chrom. He's staring hard at Virion's back. Like really hard. I'm-watching-you hard. "Chrom? What's up with you?"

He jolts from his sour mood. "Nothing. Perhaps my nerves are simply getting to me." He inclines his head toward the gates separating us from the field. "Shall we join the others?"

I hesitate. "Are you sure you don't want to take Virion up on his offer? I'm sure Flavia wouldn't care in the least if we did a final change. She just wants to win, remember?"

"I'm pretty sure I just made my opinion on that clear Robin. You'll do fine."

"No. No I won't Chrom," I say harshly. "These aren't Risen. These are people." All my inhibitions flood forth. "This is different from anything we've done before. These aren't soulless husks nor are they bad guys I can feel a little less guilty about killing! Not that I enjoyed killing then at all to start with. Anyway, these are humans fighting for the thrill, not the kill. Sure, accidents will happen but I doubt anyone is truly going in there with the total intention to kill the competitor." I crunch my eyes shut in fear. "You know I don't have enough discipline yet to stop myself if a swing goes wild on someone."

He looks sympathetic. "Robin, I'm not asking you to go in as a primary combat unit. I want you there as support. You excel at thinking on your feet and creating diversions. I need you to help make openings so I can go in with the advantage."

"As unskilled as I am in combat?" I ask.

"How else are you going to learn? There's only so much you can get from lectures. The best way to understand the truth of combat is through experiencing the real thing first hand."

"Well then do it when we don't have Ylisse's alliance at stake!"

Chrom peers back at the gate then quickly draws me aside. "Look, this isn't just about that. I'm doing this because..." His voice lowers. "I'm doing this to prove a point to the rest of the Shepherds. They need to see what I see in you. A trustworthy companion and a fellow woman at arms. Someone who's here fighting for the good of Ylisse and all its people."

"You...I..." I fumble my words. That's why he's doing this?

"Believe me Robin, I would not have you here if I didn't believe you could handle yourself."

"I can't fight Chrom."

"Yes, you can. I've seen you. I've fought with you. Decades of experience does not make a warrior. Fighting to their strengths and relying on their comrades does."

"Your idealistic philosophy is commendable though stupid," I grumble.

"I've been accused of similar things but that doesn't make me any more likely to change."

I still give him a dubious look.

"One minute 'til the show starts!" the attendant shouts by the gate. "Get your scrawny arses over here!"

Chrom gives me an imploring look. "Trust me Robin. Please."

There it is again. That nagging feeling that this has happened before. Déjà vu at its finest. I shake away the feeling and sigh. "You are taking responsibility for my funeral costs if I die out there! It better be nothing cheap, you hear me?

He looks relieved. "Stay close and everything will be fine. I promise."

I can't protest anymore now. I've got a battle looming that's both important for Ylisse and myself. Now that I have the opportunity to directly confront Marth on the field as opposed to after, I'll have to choose my lines carefully. I don't want to alert Chrom or any of the others yet of what's going on for real, especially after the scare at the wall. I'll need to grab Marth's attention quick and somehow convince her that we need to talk.

The doors creak open. The deafening roar of the crowd blasts into us. Hundreds of bodies bob up and down in the stands, eager for another visceral display of gladiatorial prowess. The dirt field stretches before us in an ominous circle. Opposite to us is another opened gate. Basilio's team emerges to a deafening roar of support. As we exit forward my eyes search for that one body amongst the other team. There in the back behind all the other men and women stands a figure in blue. They stand confidently amongst the others, hand on the hilt of their sword.

They stand utterly still, masked face forward. I swear that those two eyes are staring right back at me from under the disguise.

"Marth," I whisper.

A horn sounds and the audience cheers louder.

God, I think I'm going to be sick...Please, please, please! Let me get through this alive!

A/N Wow, that got super deep. But hey! We're finally here! We've reached the three part monster conclusion that is the Regna Ferox arc. Be prepared for action! Secrets! Drama! Romance? Well maybe not all of it, but be prepared for something cause there will be a lot of it. I've got a convention coming up and then vacation so the update may take a tad longer. So I apologize for the wait. Hopefully they'll be worth it!

So until then, thanks for the reads, reviews, and follows. Happy Mother's Day to those who celebrate it and have a wonderful day for those who don't!

Review Responses -

A Shadow's Lament - Wow, thank you for all the compliments. I'm glad so many things were so interesting! I agree, bossy Chrom is best Chrom. I enjoy writing him as a leader since it's one of his defining traits. It doesn't help when Robin throws his diplomacy out a window but that's what he gets for signing her on, ha ha!

Guest - Ha! Those two are cultivating quite a following. I'm pleasantly surprised. Glad you enjoyed the drama. Robin's adventure can't always be about rainbows and sunshine. Reality bites sometimes.

Raven Tsurara - Glad you enjoyed it Raven. Yeah, Robin's a bit of a spitfire. She's literally the antithesis of the game's Robin, nowhere near as polite and diplomatic. As for plot holes, yeah, the chapter was kind of a giant shout out to that in the game. Of course trying to come up with ways to explain why logic failed in terms of these points is the challenge.

Ruu - Thanks for stopping by again Ruu :) It's definitely a lot of fun to add a bit more to everyone's back stories, within reason of course. It adds more to the plot than me just rehashing the same old events everyone knows.

Guest - Thank you! Your compliments are appreciated! I'll keep striving to keep Robin as entertaining as possible then. Thank you again! Your review made ME smile :D

Nah Mouse - I'm actually shocked at how much support the two are gaining, given how early in the story it is. I always thought Chrom/Sumia was the big thing in the fandom. That's the big one in the group of players I personally knew anyway. Guess I underestimated it.

Gueeest - Oh my, well thank you! By all means, feel free to throw your opinion around whenever! Frederick is a sweet guy to whatever gal he marries. His tile responses to his wife are the best. I'll keep your request in mind! I've got some ideas for him so I have to see where he fits into the plot further on. Thank you for your thoughts!