Disclaimer - I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
Chapter 20
Another evening goes by and gives way to a depressing morning. Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, Miriel, Vaike, Ricken and their armored entourage left for the southwestern fort of Tyr. They carry with them a lofty goal and the hopes of the council on their shoulders. I'd wish them the best of luck if I wasn't so worried about their general safety. The trip would be long and daunting. No one could estimate when they would return. All I can do is hope for the best.
Besides, I've got my own issues to worry about.
I shift uncomfortably as I tug at the starchy material of my newly purchased overtunic. Frederick took one look at my current set of ensembles and nearly took a torch to them. Disgusted with my grody travel gear, he petitioned Sumia to take me around town for some sweet threads before I appeared with him before Emmeryn. It only got better when Virion caught wind of the trip and hopped on board. Dear God, is that man a fashionista or what? Frederick generously threw me some sympathy gold but unwisely refrained from placing a cap on the amount I could spend. Virion drained the whole thing in a single night. On the bright side, I have a new assortment of things to wear. Finally. And praise be, they aren't as unigender as other Robin's prior tastes.
Now located in the waiting quarters beside the main hall, Frederick and I stand quietly amongst the other petitioners waiting in line to be heard. I raise my foot and try to use the heel of my boot to scratch an irritation these new wool socks are inflicting on my other ankle. I wobble forward and send my arms spinning for balance, causing Frederick to eye me sideways in disapproval.
I straighten up and try to ignore the pestering sensation. Some of the other attendees are giving me odd looks. I can't blame them. Aside from being a foreign face, I stick out like a sore thumb. These people are all nobility and bedecked in the shiniest of finery. I feel like a rock someone rolled in yellow glitter and tried to pawn off as gold.
An official comes in and escorts a weeping woman from the hall. This isn't "boo-hoo" crying, this is dramatic wailing. She throws a hand across her forehead and thrusts the other out dashing for the exit. Her careening echoes after her as she rushes by, skirts billowing. Barely anyone acknowledges her departure as the official calls the next in line.
Frederick takes note of my expression. "The Duchess of Eastport's daughter. She arrives every month with a renewed attempt to extract her brother from the dungeons."
"What'd he do, if you don't mind me asking."
Frederick sours as he recalls the event in his mind. "After an eve of too much merriment, he found it a novel notion to drop his drawers before the Exalt and proclaim..." His eyes are almost black with rage and his scowl could elicit fear into the very heart of Grima. "He proclaimed his manhood to be a gift from Naga herself and that the Exalt should find it a blessing to...to...ride...herself upon it."
I crunch my nose up and wince in disgust. "Alright, that's pretty gross. And stupid. But, mostly gross. You beat him to a pulp, I hope?"
Frederick's fists curl and uncurl as if reliving the sensation of that night. "I had him subdued and handled in accordance with the law." He pauses. "Though I may have been too slow to stop milord from delivering a few blows upon the knave before intervening."
That's an interesting picture to imagine. I can't help but grin a little at the thought of Frederick and Chrom getting so protective over Emmeryn.
"You are smiling?" Frederick states in question.
"I just think it's cute that you two were all defending her honor and stuff," I exclaim while thrusting my fist forward in a mock punch. "Fighting for your lady and all that chivalric goodness."
"Blood and duty compel me to do so. There is nothing 'cute' about doing one's responsiblity. It must simply be done."
I give him a playful nudge with my elbow, grinning harder. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say Sir Knight. Doesn't make the action any less adorable. I bet Emmeryn was positively swooning."
"Her Grace does not swoon. Nor does she have time for the likes of such fanciful activities," Frederick corrects me sternly. His tone switches abruptly to one of agitation. "Now please dispel this childish line of thought from our conversation."
"Alright, alright. Fi...iiine."
My playful drawl instantly tapers off into silence when I look over at him. Frederick is carrying an expression I've never seen on him. Usually he comes in three flavors: Irate, Stoic, or the rare I-enjoy-your-suffering smile. He looks so off. It's a very thoughtful expression. Maybe I'm just grasping at straws here but it almost looks regretful. Full of longing.
He must feel me staring at him because his eyes snap to the side and instantly his face hardens. There's the typical frown! "Have you something to say?"
"Nope! Not at all! No worries here," I babble as I divert my gaze. What was that about?
The door clicks open again allowing the same official and the latest petitioner to emerge. As the noblemen leaves, the official diverts course and heads to us.
"Sir Frederick, the Exalt will see to you soon. Would you and your..." the official eyes me disapprovingly,"...companion proceed to follow after me."
Suddenly, all the nerves I had thought to have warded off hit me. My stomach starts to knot up and I feel sweaty. This feels a lot like when I was about to jump into the Arena. I have no idea what to expect and I feel like I'm going in unprepared and vulnerable. How does one suddenly do politics?
"Maybe I should just wa-WAH!"
Frederick grips me by the upper arm and drags me behind him with a forced smile. "Lead on."
So, I hover in complete silence behind Frederick as we are escorted into the throne room. The former peace of this vast hall has been disrupted under the constant barrage of voices echoing off the grand ceiling above. Various tables and chairs have been pulled out and arranged in a circle before the Exalt's high seat, giving her full view of the representatives arguing beneath her.
Emmeryn, who I have not seen since my first arrival here, looks grander than ever. Bedecked in a intricately woven white dress, the golden seams and beaded pearls do wonders to accent her loose hair. The blue and aqua shawl over her shoulders drapes around her frame in the way one might expect from a renaissance statue. With her passive expression and silence, one might think her to be that very thing if not for the healthy glow of her cheeks. That woman truly is a marvel to look at.
Her brother sits in a similarly ornate chair to the right of her on the raised dais. Chrom's noble clothes, styled similarly to what he had the day he visited me in the healing wing, are tailored to match her in color and fit. It's proof that they are both of the same station and house. Unlike her relaxed expression, Chrom sits with legs crossed and head resting on his palm. The fingers of his free hand tap impatiently along Falchion's hilt as it rests against the side of his chair. The rhythm of agitation reflects the same look on his face as he watches the drama unfold before him.
Nameless figures banter around the circle of tables. From clothing alone I can pick out who the merchants are from the nobles and trade workers. It's interesting to see so many representatives in one place. It's a testament to Emmeryn's ideals: equal say for all subjects in her realm.
A select few grab my attention and Frederick obliges my question toward them with an answer. The most powerful people in Ylisse's military are positioned at the middle of the front most table right beneath Emmeryn. Starting from the left is who I presume to be Head Archon Idwin. In the tradition of most wizard archetypes, an ancient face with valleys of wrinkles and snowy hair peek out from under his enormous hat. A monocle with at least three different moveable lenses cover his left eye which perceptively swivels from the floor to his own notes before him.
His hat itself is a spectacle to see with the sheer size and presentation. I think Miriel once told me that a mage's power and standing in court could be determined by how extravagant their hat is. This is due to how strict their uniform code is. This man is no exception. A tiny bell hangs off the droopy tip. Going down from the top, various pins and baubles stick from the fine green felt that is trimmed with an intricately tied cream ribbon. The cherry on top is the ridiculous peacock feather jutting out from the side. When Idwin turns his head, it bounces into his neighbor who recoils and swats it away.
His seat mate, a middle-aged woman, expresses discomfort and scrapes her chair further to the side. Her vibrant mahogoney hair is peppered with grey strands that hangs messy around a face sporting freckles and a great scar from her right cheek to her lip line. Minus the shoulder pauldrons and helmet, she wears the same blue and silver armor of the city guard. The obvious choice would be to peg her as Nethys.
She leans in and rests on her arms, speaking in a hushed tone to the - Oh my. Helloooo soldier! She is speaking to the highly attractive man on her right. The youngest of the three, the unkept youth listens in and chuckles to himself. Leaning back in his chair with arms behind his head, he returns to watching the floor with feigned interest. His cocky air contrasts the impressive ceremonial armor and cape he wears to mark his station. He's probably packing some nice muscles under there too. Yep. Uh, anyway...
Process of elimination would make him Eldaran, the ground force's general. That's rather shocking considering his age. He looks younger than Phila! Ironically, he looks a lot like her too. He has a stronger jaw line and a straighter nose but the two share the same eyes. His close cut hair is the same off-blue as hers as well. Could they be related? I'd take a stab and say so.
Said possible relative is standing resolutely at Emmeryn's side. Phila's prim and proper persona is a contrast to the young man's. Her stern gaze flickers from the floor to the shadows every few minutes as she watches for any disruption that may mean harm for her charge.
Instead of heading straight to the center to address the floor, Frederick and I are led to the side of the room where we wait away from the line of petitioners. That's rather baffling.
"Frederick," I whisper as I pull at his sleeve, "what's going on? And why are we in the corner here?"
He gives the line before us a look of extreme displeasure. "Our subject matter is far too sensitive a topic to speak of before the general assembly. Her Grace will hear us in a more private atmosphere. As usual, it seems we are not the only ones who wish to present a proposal before the Exalt today. I have been told that we must wait for our turn to come as she deals with the current matters at hand between the council and the people."
"Are you serious? I'm mean you're you" I say, making a grant gesture with my hand up and down his height. "You are a special case aren't you? Can't you pull some strings and yank us up a few places in line?"
"Would that be the case," he says in extreme annoyance. "The Exalt has made it clear that all petitioners are to brought forth on a first-come basis. She does not wish to favor certain classes above others, so we all wait in equal time. The same goes for personal relations."
"Well whoop-dee-fricking-doo. This is gonna be a blast," I mumble as I cozy up against the wall. Ten bucks we'll be waiting a good length of time here given how much hot air everyone seems to be spewing.
And, lo and behold, we do just that. We wait. And wait. And wait some more.
My dislike of politics has only deepened as I listen to the assembly progress. Instead of hearing a community of leaders discussing the potential for solutions, I only hear selfish braggarts trying to forward their own agendas. If a farmer comes forward begging for aid to transport crops against the Risen, the merchants protest claiming those same resources would be better off used to protect their own goods. Should a noble petition to improve their province's walls, a guild mason will interrupt and demand more money from coffers that don't exist. It's ridiculous listening to these people consistently cockblock each other from receiving any form of help.
Are these people even aware of how bad things are outside these walls? Maybe it's from my own first hand exposure to the threat, but these Risen are the single greatest danger we're facing right now. They have numbers and power behind them. If we aren't ready to face them, they'll wash right over us in a tide of festering undead rot. But with the way things are going right now, that reality is starting to seem a little to close for comfort.
If only these people would put aside their blasted differences and pull together somehow. I mean, really?!
God!
"You are making a very unbecoming face Robin."
"Huh," I say stupidly. I realize my hands are balled tight at my sides and release my tension. My shoulders immediately sag and I note I've been holding my breath. "Sorry," I mutter.
Frederick returns a watchful eye to the assembly absorbing the events with mild interest. "You seem perturbed," he notes.
"That's putting it lightly," I grunt, blowing air out of the corner of my mouth in annoyance. "Are you listening to this? I can't believe how badly they're trying to out bullshit each other. There's a national crisis going on and they're all too concerned with their own welfare."
"An astute observation, and sadly accurate," he responds, a hint of something negative in his voice. "The Assembly has seen far better days."
"Really? You could have fooled me."
"The last war Ylisse was involved in toppled our economy and brought the nation to a breaking point. Not once in our illustrious history had we seen such states of poverty and violence ravaging the populace. Many of these people here grew into maturity knowing nothing but hardships."
I snort. "Sheesh Frederick, you make it sound like that happened forever ago. It's been only a little over a decade or so, right?"
Frederick gestures to the Assembly, his face somber. "Robin, tell me what you see when you gaze at the floor. Notice if there is anything particular about it."
"Alright."
This time I take a good hard look at the people gathered before us. I see, hm...Just people I guess. Lots of different station and that's that. A few people have some really out-there hair colors. Is that hot pink? Totally jealous.
"I don't see anything weird here. There's quite a few empty seats but that's it," I shrug.
He nods toward the floor with a grim expression. "Take note of their ages."
I give them a second look. Hm. That's odd. Now that I look closer, I do notice that a good half of the representatives look kind of young. Scrap that, too young. That kid with the blacksmith table looks younger than Lissa almost. What's going on here? Aren't representatives suppose to be experienced professionals in their fields?
"Now that you mention it, aren't these people kind of young to be here?" I note in confusion.
"Correct. A generation taking the place of that which was lost in the war. To some of these individuals, that war was an entire lifetime. To reach where they are now, they have had to work and slave for ten long years to reach the state of stability they have reached now. Would you feel so easily swayed to hand over your life savings to the prospect of another impending war?"
So that explains it. I can't find words to dispute that. I'm rather speechless as a whole. I didn't think of that. Here I just assumed this was a bunch of rich schmucks playing the stereotype. Instead, it's a bunch of scared orphans and elders trying to take the place of a generation lost to a gruesome war. Ylisse's recovery for the past decade has been in the hands of the children and the infirm. Jeez. It rather reminds me of Lucina and her band of heroes trying to save the world despite being so young. That's jacked up.
Still though, that shouldn't excuse the Assembly from all this hesitation. "I get what you're saying Frederick. The whole prospect is frightening to even acknowledge. But still, how does that excuse their inability to act on the Risen? Why can't they at least come together on that?"
"You must realize," Frederick states with an air of sympathy, "it is not that the Assembly refuses to acknowledge the potential danger of the Risen. It is the fact that they are underestimating the dangers and disputing how to handle it. The fear of losing it all again is preventing them from stepping forward and shouldering the responsibility."
"Lame." I feel like I should be more mad than I am right now but it's hard to knowing the sad state of things. With hardly a generation before them to guide them, the poor kids are only exhibiting the mentality of their upbringing. I'm not saying it's the right way to think, but I guess I can't just be downright hostile towards their line of thinking either. Man, war sucks.
"Ah," Frederick suddenly perks up. "It seems we've finally been noticed. I had wondered how long it would take."
I follow his line of sight and see Chrom watching us with a renewed sense of interest. Out of reflex, I raise my hand and wave in greeting. He certainly looks surprised to see us and I can see the unworded question on his face. I shrug both shoulders in response and then make a subtle point to the floor. Then with both hands, I reach up and lightly enclose them around my neck. I follow with an exaggerated expression as I pretend to strangle myself. The message should be clear: kill me now from boredom.
Chrom must have accidentally laughed or something because suddenly Emmeryn is looking at him. He quickly covers his face and turns the opposite way. Frederick makes a sound of disapproval and I quickly drop my hands behind my back. Stupid court etiquette. "Be seen and not heard." Yeah? Well that rule can kiss my fanny.
Chrom starts fidgeting more than before, his interest probably peaked now. Poor guy must be itching to get away from this just like I am. I feel for ya Chrom. I don't know how you've lasted this long.
"I assume he is aware of our presence thanks to the attendant, most likely signalling we are next for a summons. Aptly timed as the a recess should soon be called. The Exalt is most likely taking us in private on the break to avoid dealing with the rest of the Assembly," Frederick muses in satisfaction. He seems downright pleased with her decision.
"About time." That's all I can muster to say as I sink back against the wall in relief. Finally.
Some duke from a lower province is finishing his rebuttal against sending forces to the south when one of the attendants presiding on the side stands. As the duke ends his speech with some applause from his supporters, the attendant steps forward. In a deep voice, he bellows out that the current matter will resume debate after the midday recess.
There's some sighs heard and mine is amongst them. Holy Helsiniki. We're free! I clap my hands together and bounce on my heels. Liberation never felt so good!
My ecstatic revelry is cut short as Frederick beckons me toward a doorway further down the way. "Try not to look so composed," he snipes over his shoulder.
"But that's your job. You're the stoic straight man and I'm suppose to be the plucky comic relief! How else can we continue to be the dynamic duo if I always act so serious," I retort playfully.
"The...dynamic duo," he states flatly.
"Yeah, you know like, uh, we're the Chris and Katarina of Marth to Chrom. The faithful bodyguard and the brilliant tactician. Or something like that."
"Hm, yes. Because clearly you have the same poised demeanor and refined talents as Lady Katarina. The resemblance is uncanny."
"Well thank y- Hey!" I protest. "Sarcasm detected! Not cool Frederick."
We exit through the doorway into a new ares. This hallway is foreign to me, adjoined to the wing of the castle off limits to all but the royal family. It's so posh compared to the simple quarters I reside in over in the Shepherd barracks. I trail after Frederick in silence as I stare at the different paintings we pass along the walls. A lot of faces that stare back at me from the canvases seem to have similar facial patterns to Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa. I have to wonder if these are past relatives who were involved in the military somehow. Generals and heroes who once fought in Ylisse's name.
My feet seem to falter as I lock eyes on one particular painting. I come to a halt and find myself unable to tear away from this one piece. I tilt my head the side and blink, confusion clouding my mind.
Standing before the backdrop of a lush garden, his grand form is presented before me in full regal splendor. A robe of royal blue and white fur trim is draped over his shoulders, hiding the silver set of full heavy armor beneath it. A helmet with grand plumage is tucked under one arm while the other rests on an unsheathed Falchion before him. His face is grim and battle worn, hidden behind his loose mane of blue hair and a handsome beard. He'd be quite the looker if it weren't for the hard look in his eyes.
The eyes. Those are what seem so familiar. I-I don't know why I find it so hard to look away. It's like a loose word hanging on the tip of your tongue. There's a reason for this weird sense of fright and fascination but I can't seem to grasp it.
"Who-?" I murmur to myself.
"Robin!"
I jerk from my dreamlike haze, whipping my head in the direction of my name. Frederick stands paused at the break in the hallway further on, waiting for me. "Sorry," I yell as I pick up the pace to catch up. With a lingering glance, I hurry on after him.
It isn't long before we're confronted by another blue haired noble. Chrom stands outside of Emmeryn's war room and greets us with some restrain.
"Please tell me nothing has been set on fire," he says as Frederick addresses him with a bow.
"No, milord. Nor has anyone had to have their thumbs retracted from chandler's vats. The Shepherds fair well."
Chrom lets the tension out of his shoulders and he manages a weak smile. "Ah, well good."
"Fires? Stuck thumbs? That sounds like a story waiting to be told," I prod.
Frederick waves me off. "Not now Robin. We have other matters of more import, do we not?"
I deflate at getting shot down. Nuts. Perhaps later then. "Yeah. Right," I glower.
"I'll personally regale you another time, I promise," Chrom chuckles. His expression quickly changes to curiosity as he gazes at the two of us with a puzzled expression. "I, for one, am interested as to what these important matters of yours may be. Emm hasn't told me a thing aside from the fact that we are receiving you privately in the war room."
Frederick offers another bow, his voice stoic and respectful. "Apologies for the sudden appearance milord. We shall explain soon enough. Know that it is pertaining to the rather private matter we have been monitoring this past month."
"You mean..." His startles and regards me with eyes wide in surprise. "You told Robin?"
"For good reasons, I assure you." There's something very reassuring about the way he speaks. Like he's sure of himself that including me was the right thing to do. It makes me feel even more assured that speaking to him was the right thing to do. "Robin has raised a fine point that made certain movements harbor a valid concern for Themis' welfare."
"Themis? You mean concerning the large -" Before Chrom can speak further, a voice calls us in. "I suppose we'll continue this inside. Shall we?"
Wowee. This is definitely a war room. The chandelier overhead the massive room burns with dozens of candles and brings a cozy light to the long table that runs the spans of the room. Grand old maps align the walls between towering shelves filled to the brim with scrolls. Beside a marble wrought fireplace is a colorful looking globe.
Before I can admire the impressive display of military paraphernalia spread across the table, I get distracted by something else. My eyes are instantly drawn to the food being laid out on the table by the servants whisking in an out behind us. Staring at all the steaming plates causes my stomach to grumble. It reminds me how bad I overslept today and had to venture on without breakfast.
Sheesh. If I thought the Shepherds ate well, then the royals eat like, well, kings.
Dish after dish is laid on the delicate laced table cloth in a vast assortment of different types. I find myself inching closer to the table, burning holes into the delicious smelling roast just put down. Stahl, buddy, I wish you were here to appreciate this with me.
I take a quick peek and see Frederick is greeting the group, everyone's attention on him. Hm. I wonder if they'll notice one leg missing. I probably have enough time to grab a tiny morsel to hold me over. Is that Rosemary I smell? Yuuuuuum. Ooo, a cheese plate. If I just kind of turn my back like this then I can maybe just grab one of these white looking slices...Got it. Wow, that's really creamy. I'm not use to cheese made from whole milk. Is that cheddar? Good God in heaven! It is! Cheddar cheese!
My name floats by and I immediately size up. My hand slams the cheese down into the plate too hard causing it to tip and bits to scatter. Several sets of eyes stare at me in various states of emotions.
All I can do is chuckle weakly. "Ah ha ha, there was a plate. I mean a fly. A fly on the plate. That was on the table. With cheese."
Silence.
With hesitation, I push the plate forward. "Anyone want any Brie?"
Emmeryn's light laughter is a godsend to hear as it breaks the awkward atmosphere instantly. "I shall pass, thank you Robin," she responds sweetly from her chair. She raises one of her clasped hands in greeting. "And well met, I should say. It's been too long since we've had the pleasure to speak. You look wholly recovered from that unfortunate happenstance on the return home from your mission."
She shares an appreciative look with her brother as she finishes her greeting, to which he responds with a bashful smile. The sibling love is palpable even from here. I'm kind of jealous given I never got to experience that same sensation. I wonder if I would have made a good sister to someone?
"Ah, yeah. That. No worries there. Your healers worked their magic," I reply. Having so much attention focused my way is starting to make me feel self conscious. I feel myself wanting to withdraw away from the newly instated curiosity.
Nethys is the next to speak, her critical gaze drinking me in. "This is the so-called tactician you've been rattling about my Lord? Truly?" she drones. Her speech is slightly different from the rest of her cohorts, an accent hiding and occasionally slipping out on a particular syllable. Nethys must be from another province given how thick the words sometimes sound.
"I don't see why you sound so disappointed," Eldaran replies. "I'm charmed already." He ends with a hearty laugh and wide smile directed right at me that ruffles me all the way down to my toes.
"And I believe you should both reserve your judgements for another time. We are not here to critique the young lady," Idwin concludes. His voice is light and quiet. If I could describe it as a color, it would be periwinkle. Don't ask me why.
"Praise be for that. You'd have cut the poor girl's fashion sense down in an instant given your own garish interests old man." Eldaran's snark is cut short as his head is jerked to the side. Phila, standing quietly between Emmeryn and himself, has reached out and snagged him by the ear. With her eyes shut and mouth set in a deep frown, she gives him a good yank that renders him quiet.
Yep, they've got to be siblings.
"Please continue," Phila states calmly.
"Quite," Frederick responds. "No doubt you have been informed that my companion and I have a matter of extreme import to address before you all today."
"We've heard many 'important issues' lately. Tell me this one is anymore different than the ones on the floor today," Nethys frowns, fingers tapping impatiently in the crook of her arms.
Chrom shoots the woman a disapproving look. "Captain, I ask you indulge my second with a bit more respect. Frederick is not a man to waste time on unnecessary banter. Whatever it is he has to say, I can guarantee it is well worth our ears."
The air of authority in Chrom's voice catches me off guard. I'm not used to seeing this side of him. With how casual he acts around the Shepherds, it's glaring reminders like this that make me remember he's the high prince of a kingdom.
"Thank you, milord," Frederick says with a subdued smile of appreciation. "And it is, by all accounts. With your permission, your milord, I would like to divulge what we have been monitoring these past weeks before our comrades today."
"How interesting," Idwin says to himself, perking up. He pulls a notebook similar to the one Miriel totes around from his sleeve. He plucks the feather from his hat and his hands flare green briefly before he sets it atop the book. It hovers in place just above the paper, as if suspended by a hidden string. Another form of enchantment I wager. I wonder if that feather is writing in tandem to his personal thoughts or simply recording what is spoken out loud.
Chrom gives Frederick the okay, allowing the great knight to start his speech. It's nothing I don't know already, but it's fascinating to listen to Frederick talk nonetheless. Listening to this man go on is awe-inspiring. There's a way he commands the attention of people as he speaks. Frederick has this commanding presence as he walks about delivering his concerns and points of interest. There's a firm strength in his voice that keeps you focused to him. It's such a contrast to what I heard on the floor earlier by the representatives. I don't know if it's his knight training or his natural charisma as a leader, but Frederick has a good knack for oratory speech. I'm envious.
So when he surprises me by inviting me up to explain my little proposal for saving Themis' ruling family, I'm struck mute. Compared to his flawless introduction, I'm a shameful followup. My gum flaps in wordless horror as everyone waits for me to start. Frederick clears his throat loudly, a signal that I should do something.
How I manage to even squeeze out a word is a mystery to this day. I feel so embarrassed. It's like when I had to do that stupid speech in front of my senior year english class. I had to recite a passage from Dante's Inferno, some twenty-five lines in length. I seized up so bad I fainted and woke up in the nurse's office later. While my stage fright isn't as bad as then, throwing me out to speak before Ylisse's biggest names without preparation doesn't help.
I bumble through my line of thought, my voice rising and falling to different extremes as I try to force out as much information as I can as fast as possible. When I end my final point of the rescue proposal, I sag in obvious relief and shuffle back from their eyes. I don't even dare take a peek toward them. I can just imagine the looks of mockery and disgust with my pitiful presentation.
Frederick steps up to take the floor again as I disappear behind him. As we pass each other, I throw him the deepest look of loathing I possibly could. In contrast, he looks down at me with something akin to pride, like when I manage to perform a successful parry for the first time. My anger dissipates and leaves me with only questions as I see him share a subtle nod across the way to Chrom, who looks mildly pleased himself. What?
Regardless, Frederick ends with his final words. As soon as he finishes, the group comes to life.
"Traitors in our ranks? How could-?"
"An abduction? How peculiar..."
"I knew those blasted brigands had to be-"
"Everyone, enough. Please," Emmeryn states calmly as order returns.
The only ones yet to speak are Phila, who continues her silent vigil, and Chrom who looks taken back by the idea of Maribelle's family potentially being used as hostage material. The idea would probably be jarring to him considering how close Maribelle is to both Lissa and him.
Emmeryn resumes speaking, her face paler than usual. "These revelations are rather shaking to hear. To know that there may be a coordinated threat working against us amongst our own ranks worries me more than you know. Such a thing is not something I would think possible in our lands."
"What I wish to know is how something like this slipped past our notice," Nethys declares with a dark look toward Eldaran. "If these things are acting in accordance with us, that means they have some sense of deeper intelligence to them. Especially if one of them is slipping past both my guard and into the war office."
Eldaran brushes her off with annoyed flick of his wrist that hangs casually off the side of his chair. "Like the Prince here, I was at least somewhat aware there was a pattern in the attacks. My scouts pointed out the similarity, though we didn't catch on to these little pockets encroaching on Themis. Didn't even give them any regard though I suppose we should have. I haven't brought it to anyone's attention yet because of the hysteria that might ensue. I've had my people looking into it for more answers."
Okay, that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Is he even aware of how flippant he sounds? I don't know if it's age or inexperience causing him to act this way, but it sure isn't professional. I can only assume he has this position because the previous general, like the rest of the old army, died in the last war. He's probably been sitting cushy on his butt for years enjoying the peace. I bet he doesn't have one lick of experience on him.
I can see a vein on the corner of Nethys' forehead pulsate as she grits her teeth in frustration. "Did you think that at least alerting us to the potential problem would have been an idea?"
He loses his cheeky aura. Eldaran gives her a warning glare, clearly not liking her tone. "I said I was on it, didn't I?"
Idwin's quill stops scratching long enough for him to speak. "Eldaran, is that not a matter of some grave concern? You should have spoken up, my boy."
"Why am I getting all of this heaped on me now? Clearly they've been on this longer than I have. Why not ask them why they haven't said anything?" He says stubbornly, jerking his thumb toward Frederick and I.
Okay, kid. I don't care how hot you may be. Don't go throwing blame around to save your own hide. That's totally juvenile.
"Eldaran!" Phila snaps. It's the first time I've seen some sort of major emotion from her and it's scary. He instantly backs down at her outburst and sinks into his chair.
Emmeryn reaches over and places a palm over the pegasus knight's forearm. "Peace, Phila. No harm was intended. He only speaks his mind. To be fair, they should have spoken up as well. Noticing the congregation around Themis as they did, it would have been wiser to act sooner."
The lead Archon, clearly favoring the side of neutrality, backs up her words. "What's done is done, I'm afraid. The present is what we must focus on, troubling as it may be."
"And what can we do, Idwin? The answer to this is only going to be the same as the petitions for support we hear out on the floor," Nethys groans in exasperation.
"Nethys-"
She waves the elder off, turning to Emmeryn. "Your Grace, I wish no disrespect to the duke of Themis or his family but their predicament is no less special than the dozens of others we hear each day. Let me be frank since no one else will: we have no spare troops. What haven't been slaughtered already are being used where they can in the most vital areas."
"And Themis is not vital?" Frederick interrupts. Like myself, he is starting to grow frustrated with the sense of negativity and resistance in the air. I think he expected this to go differently. "Themis is home to our most valuable iron mines. That aside, the largest trade center in our western lands is located in its valley. How do you consider those not vital?"
"I do consider them vital. But not as vital as other things," she replies with a weary sigh. "Themis is a journey and then some. The trip itself would consume resources, not to mention pull in any lingering Risen in the region closer to the capital. What remnants we do have, if they even make it, would now have to deal with a supposed army bordering their walls. What sense is there in sending this retrieval team when you can see from the start that it would be a failure."
"As usual Captain. Aren't you ever a ray of shining light," Eldaran snarks off on the side.
"Would you prefer I give into every proposal of fancy and throw away the few materials at hand? We can't do anything. It is a sad reality, but the duke and his family should have evacuated when we told him to. It was his choice to stay behind. He needs to figure this out on his own."
"Do you even hear yourself?" Chrom's sudden outburst is a shock. Up until now he had been watching the events unfold but the emotions must have been welling up inside of him. Maribelle is not only his friend but also a member of his team. Listening to Nethys talk about abandoning her must have caused something in him to snap.
He slams a fist on the table, leaning forward with eyes blazing. "You want us to consider leaving the royal family's greatest allies to the hands of Risen and gods' know what else because you won't even consider an attempt possibility?"
Nethys looks him square in the eye, unyeilding in her stance. "Do you remember the attempt we made to get Duchess Thorne and her kin out of the northern province? How well did that go? And we were even aware of the threat there!"
There is a sudden quiet to the group. I don't know what went down there but it mustn't of been successful given their looks.
"And what of the people, My Lord? Do you intend to send in a rescue party only to save them? Will you leave the common folk to the hands of the Risen for their safe passage?" she pushes forward.
That...that is a point I hate to think about. I would do whatever I could to save anyone left in the castle walls but the truth right now is we can't. Maribelle is the only one really important in the overall scheme of things, at least according to the plot I know. I hate the idea that one person is more important than all those other lives. It destroys me inside to accept that. The only thing I can think of is that extracting the source of their ire will cause the Risen, and Plegia, to retract their presence thus saving the people. Somehow, I find my voice to speak.
"The civilians won't have a problem if you retract the noble family. If these Risen are moving under strict orders from the likes of Plegia, like we're guessing, your problem will be solved. Removing their target will cause them to recede, in theory, saving those in the hold."
Nethys looks at me like I'm a fly she needs to swat away. "Yes, this so called ploy by Plegia. Tell me, what proof do you have they're even involved?"
"None, but-"
"And they probably aren't. I doubt even Plegians are capable of this sort of plan. These things are beyond human control."
"Don't be stupi-"
In response to my agitation, Emmeryn intercedes. "It is not that we do not want to consider it, it is that we do not wish to. To think that Plegia is behind this would mean war. We have tried our hardest to avoid such an outcome for the past ten years and do not wish to stir the bad blood further."
Emmeryn, that's a cute ideal to live by but it's not realistic.
"I understand. But choosing to outright ignore the possibility is just ignorant," I protest. As soon as I finish, Frederick closes in beside me and gives me an obvious look of disapproval. Sorry to have offended your queen but what good is buttering her up? She needs to hear the fault in her ideology. It'll let Plegia walk right in on them at this rate.
"Miss Robin, I ask you watch your tone. You speak to the Exalt," Phila warns sternly.
Emmeryn however chooses to ignore my rather heated remark. Instead she turns to the captain of the guard. "Nethys, I appreciate your enthusiasm but I must ask you calm down." She then turns to me. "As for you Robin, I do appreciate your concerns. However, I do not wish to pursue that line of thought without the most assured evidence before me. I would request you end that line of thought here."
"Fine," I state, holding in my anger as best I can. "But we're still at the point that the duke and his family need saving. Isn't there anyone in the army to spare?"
"Would that be the case," Idwin answers. He readjusts his monocle, flipping to the second lens. He pulls forward a specific paper via simple wind retrieval spell. It flutters on the minty breeze to his gnarled hands. "According to our reports, the truth of the matter is that we simply do not have the ability to do so."
"More like the manpower," Eldaran remarks snidely.
"What was that?"
The young general leans forward on a single arm, jutting his other hand out toward the same paper. "You heard me, we simply lack manpower. Our numbers are well below where we should be at. The ratio is one soldier to every four civilians. That is grossly inaccurate in terms of defense. If we recruited more then-"
"The army is fine as it is General," Emmeryn states firmly. "Our focus is on rebuilding, not conquering."
"And what about self defense, my Lady? Does that not matter?"
"We have what I deem an adequate amount. The bigger our army, the more aggressive we may seem. We are a peaceful nation now. We should not need such numbers as long as we maintain such peace with our neighbors."
No offense Emmeryn, but that's utter bullshit. Naive sentiments like that are going to get you killed. And having an understaffed army is now biting you in the butt as the countryside is overrun with Risen. For once, the young one here has the most amount of sense.
Eldaran gives the group a distasteful look before offering me a disgruntled frown. "I couldn't agree more with you Miss Robin, but my hands are tied on this. Dame Nethys is right. Much as I'd love to go along with this little plan of yours, my forces are stretched thin as they are. I've got barely enough forces to cover the main front here. And them Feroxi friends of yours aren't helping all that much taking their sweet time crossing the border."
"And do not expect me to loan any of my guardsmen to the cause. The city is holding together by the barest of threads right now. Maintaining the peace is like walking the edge of a knife," Nethys proclaims as if triumphant.
I look to Idwin for help but he looks as grim as the others. "I'm afraid I cannot offer any assistance either. My brightest colleagues are abroad doing what they can to study this new threat. All I have left in the capital are students and a few adjuncts, none of which who are experienced enough to even attempt such an expedition."
"Are you all serious?" I blurt out. What fire I lacked earlier is now starting to burn inside of me. "So you're all going to just sit back and just twiddle your thumbs while the people of the realm you swore to protect get overrun? What kind of malarkey is that?"
"Now see here..." Nethys begins as she starts to rise from her chair.
I feel like there's a firecracker in my chest sizzling as I cut her off. "The people look to you in times of chaos for your protection. It's what they swear fealty and work the crops for! Sitting back on your asses and jabbering about how you don't have the power to do anything stupid. Unlike those representatives on floor, you have the authority and ability to go where they can't! Take a moment to actually think about what you can do instead of simply giving up because a piece of paper and some numbers say that you can't!"
"Robin," Frederick pulls me in. His tone is firm but understanding. "Aggression will not aid us here."
"They aren't even trying!"
"Robin. Stop." As Frederick tries to talk me down I see Chrom aggressively whispering to Emmeryn. I can see the distraught pain in her eyes and the way her mouth presses firmly together as he speaks.
"Beg pardon, but did you not originally suggest the possibility of pegasus riders?"
I nearly jump out of my skin. Phila's porcelain features gaze questioningly between Frederick and I. When did she come over here?
"Indeed, we did." Frederick responds. "It would be the best option available to us if given a choice."
"Yeah, but seeing how everyone is so against loaning us a few units, what does it matter?" I sulk.
"You are mistaken Miss Robin. I decide what happens to the pegasi corps, not the individuals behind me."
I don't know why she's smiling like that but I like where this is going. Keep talking Phila.
"What is the minimum you believe would be required for this endeavour?" she inquires.
"A small squadron of riders. No more than four in number. That should suffice, I believe. All directions should be covered providing ample security yet a populace just small enough to avoid alarming any detection. At best, they resemble scouting legion and little else," Frederick responds, his own enthusiasm starting to grow.
"Four only? Yes, that would be accurate. The Lady Maribelle and her mother on one and the Duke on another. Two then for maintaining protection on the upwind and downwind drafts. I see." Phila's rigid stance bends just enough for her to gaze back at the two royals. "Hm."
Her footsteps are drowned out by the badgering voices of the others as she walks before Emmeryn.
"Your Grace."
Emmeryn hushes her brother and looks to her faithful guard trying to mask the emotions on it. "Yes Phila?"
"I would like to request a proposal."
That catches both Chrom and Emmeryn's attention. In his, I see something like hope. In Emmeryn's, relief. "Do go on."
"By law, I am to sworn to uphold all protection to those considered family of the Exalt. If I am not mistaken, that ruling does not explicitly state that family is considered to be solely by blood. Now if her Grace were to say that the Duke and his kin are like family to her then would it not be my duty to leave the capital and provide them protection, as states the law?"
The words sink in slowly and I see the recognition dawn on Emmeryn's face. "Why yes. Yes, I believe it would. And I believe Lissa has stated numerous times that Maribelle is but another sister to her."
"And the Duke and his wife are practically aunt and uncle through our mother's side. Give or take a few second or third cousins," Chrom adds.
At this point the other three have heard everything. Nethys looks ready to pop. "Are you jesting?"
"Hardly. Dame Nethys, you know as well as I how important it is that I must uphold the laws of the court. And as one of the royal bodyguards, as well as captain of our pegasus knights, I am more beholden to them than any here," Phila states with the tiniest of smiles. "And as the Exalt confirms before you today, they are family. It is my duty to go forth then, regardless of dangers or discrepancies, or face the gravest of penalties."
"Ah, yes. I see now. A most scintillating discovery," Idwin proclaims with false astonishment. "The law is the law and it must be abided by."
"Enough with the feigned ignorance. So Phila's going. But you can't go by yourself," Eldaran points out, looking slighty worried.
"Viola will ride with me. The complexity of this mission requires her, as my lieutenant, to be there."
"Now hold up a second. You two aren't going alone. If that's the case then I'm demanding in on this."
"Eldaran, hush. You are needed here. And unless your horse spouts wings, you will never be able to keep up," Phila chastises kindly.
I nudge Frederick and mouth out, "Siblings?"
He nods. That explains a lot.
"Don't worry General. I won't let the two of them go alone," Chrom states with the reassurance only another brother would know. "If she's willing, I'll have Sumia accompany you."
"Sumia is barely out of training. Would she be a wise candidate for such a task?" Emmeryn asks him.
"I think so. The Shepherds specialize in these types of missions. And besides, Maribelle and Sumia are comrades. I think it would do well for her to have a familiar face there."
"If that is the case, I think it best to have the rider Cordelia take part. They were training partners and work well together. Sumia performed at her best when they were paired so she will be a fine compliment I think."
"And that would be four I believe," Frederick says under his breath beside me.
Way to go Phila. I thought you to be a bit frigid but you're all right!
"So four pegasus riders, is it?" Nethys states outwardly.
"An ideal arrangement," Phila replies. "Pegasi are swift and quiet. We will reach the castle in half the time needed for land units."
"Huh." There isn't much that Nethys can retort at this point. She simply throws her hands up and settles back into her chair. "Well then, carry on. It's your funeral Lady Phila."
Emmeryn clasps her hands together gently, the delight on her face barely contained. "I believe we have an answer to your problem then Frederick, Robin. Unless there is some objection to this course of action from the others, then I believe we may proceed in determining how to go about this most important mission."
No objections are heard and the strategies begin. Eldaran is willing to provide the necessary equipment for extraction purposes while Idwin has a pupil close enough to graduation that could provide aid via a rescue staff, though that would be about the length of their ability to help. I have no idea how teleportation magic works aside from having roots in wind magic but this isn't the place to ask. Regardless, Idwin and Eldaran manage to come through for us and we seem to be well off even without Nethys' help. And with Sumia and Phila's crew working together, we have at least some sort of experienced soldiers going in to help make this mission a success. It'll take a bit, even rushing as we are, to get everything together. But at least it's happening.
Finally, something in this twisted timeline is going potentially well. It's almost enough to make me feel at ease. I keep my mouth shut and hover in the back for the rest of the meeting. Over time I may feel more comfortable getting involved in the planning, but for now I let them do their thing. Clearly there's a lot I don't know about running an army. Supplies, solider wages, animal care...There's an overwhelming amount of information there that I'm not remotely educated in. It's best I simply watch and listen for now, learning what I can.
The time passes between eating and talking until the last details are planned. As soon as Emmeryn's gives her official word of approval on what's been presented before her, Nethys dashes out proclaiming her prescense no longer being needed. I want to be so angry at her for her attitude but I can't be. She's just as equally frustrated and probably worse off than I am since she's got dozens of soldiers beneath her to handle alongside this crisis. I have to be an adult here and try to understand. It's hard, especially when she throws me that sassy look.
Speaking of sassy, I have my own sass to throw Frederick's way for earlier. As the members of our mini council start to rise, I walk over to him. I quickly cut in front of his path, drawing myself up as much as I can to try and stare menacingly up at him. "What was that earlier?"
"I am unsure what you mean."
I poke him hard in the chest with my forefinger, eliciting a mild grunt of annoyance. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. During the speech?"
He looks down with mock uncertainty. "I haven't the faintest idea to which you speak of. Now if you excuse me, I must attend to her Grace. She requires my attention before she returns to the Assembly floor."
"Hey!"
Frederick steps around me and makes a break for the door. As he reaches the threshold, he pauses before it. "Do try to keep your diaphragm more upright as you speak next time. It will ease your breathing and prevent your tone from fluctuating as much."
Before I can form a rebuttal, he disappears. I stand there in silence, torn between wanting to tear him a new one and strangling him for answers. So he did know what I was talking about! That little...
I stomp after him and enter the hall, looking in the direction he turned. Frederick is about half way down and aiming for Emmeryn, who waits for him at the far end. I can still catch up with him if I hurry.
"Don't be angry at him. He only did that with the best intentions in mind."
I whirl around and see Chrom leaning back against the wall with arms crossed. He offers a tiny greeting with a flick of his hand and straightens up, resting on his hip against the door frame. "You're upset about getting ambushed with the speech earlier," he says like it's common knowledge.
"How did you...?"
Chrom tilts his head and watches the other man join his sister. "Because I know Frederick. And I know how he teaches."
"That was a lesson?" I say, my eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"Yeah. And a much needed one given your performance."
I don't respond. I simply hover in a frozen state of limbo. I don't know if I should be fuming, grateful, confused, or maybe a little of everything. Thankfully, Chrom starts explaining before I explode from my own state of repressed emotions.
"You're our tactician, Robin. As such, you need to know how to address others. Whether it's a council, the Shepherds, or a foreign diplomat, you'll have to be comfortable giving directions. It's going to be your responsibility to lay out the plans and deliver them clearly to your soldiers. One false communication can lead to a snag in your plans, causing all your hard work to unravel. Understand?"
"I think so," I somehow manage to say.
Chrom offers me a sympathetic glance, his tone full of understanding. "I am sorry you were ambushed like that. I would rather of had him prepare you for such a task. But I don't fault him for doing so. Addressing others is part of the job. As a leader, it's your responsibility to alert others to what must be done. And to do so, you have to be confident and clear."
A leader? Me? That just doesn't sound right. I prefer to follow and be unseen in the background. It's so much simpler that way.
"I never thought of it like that," I say quietly as I draw my arms closer to me. I hug my elbows and stare at the floor.
"Well what did you think?" Chrom's question isn't full of mockery or negativity. He says it lightly, genuinely curious as to my thoughts.
"I guess I just assumed I'd relay the plans to you or Frederick and you'd do all the dirty work. I thought being a tactician meant being the power behind the scenes."
Chrom muses in thoughtful contemplation. "I suppose some may think that. But not here. What happens if Frederick or I are away, or unable to act? It's up to you to deliver the troops the information they need. You are a prime decision force in the Shepherds now, Robin. They're going to look to you for direction in time. Frederick only wants you to be ready for that day when it comes. As do I. And as unorthodox as his attempts may be, Frederick is honestly doing what he thinks is best for you."
"You're making this really hard to stay angry," I sigh.
Chrom crosses the distance between us, placing a friendly grip on my shoulder. He is utterly sincere when he speaks next. "If it is truly that upsetting for you, then say it. I won't be angry. I'll simply remind Frederick to take your lessons with more prudence next time. I'm no tyrannical leader ready to force you through whatever it takes to prepare you. If you are uncomfortable with anything, just tell me."
I think I finally understand that fabled sense of unwavering duty knights seem to have in fairy tales for their king or queen. It's hard not to feel the desire to do so when you have someone speak to you in such a way. Having that trust in you and that strong care for your wellbeing is inspiring.
I manage up as bright a smile as I can. "I-it's fine. When you put it like that, I can't do anything else but appreciate all the efforts being made on my behalf. I trust Frederick's actions and I trust your words." My voice catches in my throat, startled by the words I'm actually uttering. "I suppose I should really be thanking you. And know that, as long as I'm here, you've got my total loyalty and commitment to getting better. That's a promise."
I get a friendly squeeze in response, a feeling that goes right to his eyes and smile. "Thank you," he says. "I know it's only been a short time but I stand by what I said when we first met, more than ever. The Shepherds were lucky to find you. And I, even more so. Whatever storm may be coming, I'm glad you'll be here to help us weather through it."
"Ah ha, ha ha," I let out in a nervous chuckle as I shy away. "Yeah, well..." I shuffle back, going on the defensive in an attempt to redirect the embarrassing atmosphere toward him. "Is that a line you use on all the ladies?"
Surprisingly, Chrom doesn't fluster in the normal way he typically does when I tease him. He still turns an off color, but manages to hold his ground. "No, just you," he manages out with a hint of uncertainty.
I can't help but let loose a laugh, as I cover my mouth in surprise. "Oh really? Did I just get bantered with? I didn't know you had it in you!"
"N-no, it's nothing like that," he replies bashfully as he looks to the side. "I'm simply used to you is all. Though I may have received a word of advice or two for the occasional rebuttal."
"No!" I drop to a scandalous whisper. "Did you talk to Virion?"
"Gods, absolutely not!" Chrom replies, aghast at the thought. "Though, he may have heard you and politely decided to provide me with unwanted aid."
"Well bless his lady-slayer skills. Might want to save some of those lines for someone who matters though. Don't want to use up all your A-game on me, you know."
"A-game?"
I wince. "Never mind. Just use your new found wooing skills wisely, alright?"
As I finish speaking, one of the attendants from the floor approaches us with a bow. "My Lord, the Assembly will convene again momentarily. Will you please return to the floor?"
"Right," Chrom says with instant disdain. Agitation replaces his previous mirth and he offers me a forlorn look of regret. "I suppose I'm needed once more. I'll escort you back the main hall."
The two of us depart and separate at the exit. I feel bad leaving him to that horrible fate but there's little I can do. The kingdom needs it's prince after all. Maybe I'll have Sumia make him that pie he likes. That'll cheer him up when he gets free from this political mess. I just have no idea when that'll be.
In the mean time, I am going to bask in relief. Today was a win. Hearing Phila agree to Maribelle's rescue was the best news I've heard in a while. The only lingering fear I have is time. The faster we get this rescue party out, the better I'll feel. With Sumia and Cordelia onboard, I have higher hopes for success than before. I know Maribelle will be in good hands and that means I can focus on other things. Later of course.
After this rather hectic morning, I need time away from things. No politics, no war talks, no stress. So when I stumble on Virion all by his lonesome in the barracks and he offers up a game of chess, I hop on it.
Chess here is pretty much the same as it is back home. The only differences are that knights are now called pegasus riders and there's an extra piece representing archers. They can hop two spaces either forward or backward when moved. While it adds some extra strategy to the playing field, it doesn't detract too much from the same feel I'm use to.
And just like at home, I'm not too hot at the game either.
Virion is surprisingly adept at strategy. I know the game touches down on his innate abilities but I couldn't truly appreciate them until I encountered them first hand. He has a rather unorthodox approach to wins, choosing quick successes that include sacrificing most pieces in his path to my king. It's only the queen piece that seems to be immune to his warpath. He uses her with a fierce flick of the wrist that helps end every game we've played up until this point.
I suppose the losses could be see as depressing, and they are considering I'm suppose to be a tactician. But it helps me start to understand the process of planning ahead a little better. I'm understanding myself as a strategist and Virion politely points out a weakness of mine every once and a while. And when I say politely, I mean with as much superiority as possible.
Up until the start of this new game, we've talked shop about war tactics and how my progress is coming along. Despite reading my two books thoroughly, Virion's depth of knowledge reminds me I have much more to improve on. His own expertise is only so helpful as Rosanne's military is comprised much differently compared to Ylisse. But some of the tactics are interesting and I absorb them with the ferocity of a sponge to water. Virion clearly enjoys the attention I give him and it makes him a better teacher for it.
About half way through our new game, he takes on a more serious expression. "I must say, you have a heavy preference for your riders and bishops."
"I find them easiest to manage," I reply as debate my next move.
"I see," he states in an uncertain tone. I finish my move and wait for him to go. He regards the board thoughtfully, and suddenly moves for a whole new piece seemingly opposite his former play plan.
"Allow me to change tandem then," he smiles as he pushes forth his new piece in a novice mistake. "Let me ask of you a basic question. It is one my mother would often bequeath unto her own tacticians before battle."
My eyes travel the board, trying to read any signs of deception in the new move. "Go ahead," I murmur as I reach out for one piece. Quickly, I retract my hand and place it over a new one. I hover uncertainly for a moment before capturing his exposed piece.
"Excellent," he chuckles lightly while instantly moving a pawn forward. The speed at which he is reacting makes me instantly regret my last move. I'm being baited into some trap, I just can't figure out what yet. "Tell me Robin," he says with a thoughtful look, "what is the most powerful piece on the board?"
"The queen," I automatically say without thinking.
Virion looks hardly surprised at my response. He moves again with a quick shake of his wrist as he takes my rook with his bishop in a clear sacrificial move. The question is, what is he sacrificing for? As far as I see, neither of us are about to gain from that move. Shoot. Is he just distracting me with mind games or am I just over thinking this?
As I debate my next action, the smug archer across from me picks up his queen piece from the back line and twirls it between his fingers. "La reine. She is a majestic piece, isn't she? Powerful enough to move as she pleases and take what she desires. Such is the strength of a woman at her finest."
He places it gently back down and continues to watch me play duck-duck-goose with the three pieces I wrestle with moving. "The queen is the answer most often given."
"Uh huh," I hum as I finally smack down what I think is the right piece. It looks like he's trying to use the bishop and archer in the front here to corner my king. If I set up my knight just so then a few turns from now I might be able to counter him with an opening after I take out his one knight there.
My hand draws away and Virion's quickly replaces it. He alters his strategy and surprises me by throwing his knight carelessly into the open after taking out one of my pawns. It's right in the open for my one bishop, who has yet to move from the back of the board, to shoot right out and pounce. What's your game Virion?
"The answer is wrong, by the way."
"What is?" Crap. What do I do? Go for the knight or the archer?
"The queen is not the strongest piece, according to my dearest mother." He watches my struggles with a mirthful eye and offers me only a sly grin. "Would you care to be regaled by the wisdom of my most cherished matron?"
The uncertainty of that knight freaks me out most so I claim it as my own with a single movement of my bishop.
"Sure."
Virion's response is quick as ever, moving his pawn forward again. "Ah, most wonderful. Bequeath upon me your patience for three turns yet, dearest Robin, and then you shall have your answer."
This rattles me good. So his plan is that far along? Fudge. In a panic, I hit his one archer with my own, throwing it out in a desperate attempt to dislodge whatever tactic he's brewing. In the next two turns he alternates between moving the pawn and pulling in his standing bishop dangerously close to my queen. By the time I retaliate, I've taken three of his best pieces while he's done nothing but move.
"Ah and here it is, the grand finale," he beams triumphantly. With a grand sweep of his hand, he places down that pawn of his into the exposed space on the end of my side of the board. I stare blankly at the piece, and then to him. I don't understand. What is that measly little pawn going to accomplish? It can't do anything but move forward and he's just lodged in against the end of the board with no where else to go.
"Un moment," he says with a raised finger before leaning over to his box of chess figures. He digs around before pulling out a queen. Virion reaches over and swaps the two figures and then leans back with a satisfied grin. "Voila. A queen has been made."
"Wait, wait, wait. What? You can't do that!" I protest vehemently.
He waggles a finger at me. "Alas, o beauteous foe of mine, for I very well can. Should a pawn reach the enemy's back line, they are free to promote to whatever piece they should choose. A magnificent ability, is it not?"
"But I don't-Oh." No, I think he's right. Now that he says it, I remember something vaguely about that. It's one of those weird specialty rules that I never really focused on because my games never lasted long enough for that to happen.
He leans forward on intertwined fingers and offers me a tiny wink. "Ah yes, and checkmate as well."
"What."
Sure enough, when I look at the board, he's right. Virion's played me again. He worked two plans against me. He kept me busy focusing on one side of the board so his pawn could stealth in unnoticed to promote. His other ploy was to cause me to cluster all my pieces around my king to protect it while he carelessly threw his other stronger pieces at it. With my own figures huddled around the king, the only way he could move would be to the side. And the whole row is empty save for that stupid little pawn-turned-queen on the end. My king has no where to retreat to with the clusterfudge I've erected around it thanks to Virion's heavy frontal assault. My king has basically been shanked from behind.
"Damn it," I moan as I drop my head into my arms. I slide down to the table and bury my face further in. I've been played so bad.
"Do not focus so hard upon what is solely in front of you Robin. You must always be aware of the entire field, not just what is before you." I hear him draw the new queen across the board and nudge my king. It topples dramatically, the wood clicking with a deafening finality in my ears. 0 - 4. What a marvelous record.
"Take heart, my dear. You performed better each time we dueled and there should be celebration in that."
"I suppose," I sigh. It really is hard to stay depressed when Virion is around. He has a way of making things sounds less bad than they really are. I stare at the victorious queen beside my face and squint at it. "So what's the answer to your little question. From here, it still looks like the queen is the winner."
Virion gestures to the board in a silent offering of another rematch, to which I shake my head. He slowly begins to put the pieces away, placing each carefully in the designated holder. "Looks are deceiving they say. Is it really the queen who won? More so, it is the pawn."
"The pawn?"
"It is the principle behind the pawn itself that is so intriguing. A common piece, as unremarkable as the rest of its brethren on the board. Plain and weak compared to the line behind it. Yet, it has all the potential in the world."
"A bishop shall always be a bishop as much as the king is a king. But the pawn! Such a magnificent creation. When it reaches its fullest potential, it becomes whatever it chooses. From unpronounced origins bursts forth a new force of power that may choose to be whatever it wishes. She may choose to be an archer, a pegasus rider, a bishop..."
He picks up my own black pawn and rolls it between his fingers. With an enigmatic smile, he continues, "Or a simple pawn may even find herself a queen someday. How fantastic a notion, yes?"
I have a feeling there's a weirdly hidden meaning behind his words. "Sure?" I say with uncertainty.
Virion gives a dramatic sigh and places the queen away. "You yourself are a pawn, newly born upon the battlefield Robin. Where you choose to go and how to grow is up to you. Simply remember that, as a pawn, you are limitless in your potential. You may find yourself in a role well beyond your imaginings if you play your tactics right."
"Perfect," I huff with a wry smile. "I always had this grand aspiration to be the empress of Valm."
Virion chuckles and closes his box, putting it back upon his drawer set. "Perhaps you should try aiming a little closer to home?"
I snap fingers together. "Of course! Plegia! I could usurp control and finally become the tyrannical overlord I've always dreamed of! Ritualistic suicides! Despotic taxations! And cheese, plenty of cheese for everyone!"
Virion's laughter rings out in the small room as he seats himself across from me. "Never have I encountered one who has mastered the subtlety of sarcasm as you have Robin. 'A wit like a rapier,' we say in Rosanne. You would be a favorite amongst the courts, I assure you."
"I'd like to stay far away from any courts right now after what I endured today. I don't think politics is my thing," I say as I recline back in my chair. I can't help by shake my head. "There's too much etiquette and propriety to observe. I just don't get it."
"A noble's life is a difficult one. War is not the only field of battle one must be versed in to survive. Often, the court can prove to be the far more treacherous enemy."
Virion's face has lost some of its jubilant sparkle as he speaks this. His eyes seem to cloud up and the creases around his mouth deepen with strain even though he bears a friendly smile. I wonder if this has anything to do with his home. I think he's suppose to be on the run thanks to Valm's occupation with Rosanne at this point, or something like that anyway. Shooooot. Time to divert course.
"Do you play card games in Rosanne?" I quickly say, hoping to pull his attention back towards the previous air of merriment. "With a deck I mean."
"Oh ho! That is almost an insult to a true blooded nationalist such as myself! Do I know how?" he suddenly rebuffs with renewed vigor, throwing a hand upon his chest in mock horror. "My Lady, I am versed well in all arts of card play."
"Well I happen to be as well," I say as I scoot in closer. "Care to back up those words, dandy man?"
Virion ruffles with feigned displeasure. "Your words wound me but it shall not dissuade my affections for you." He procures an interesting box of cards from his bag of tricks and pulls them up, shuffling the colorful looking contents. "Allow me to further demonstrate my prowess in entertaining your needs. I guarantee it shall not disappoint."
I can't help but flush a little at his rather obvious double entendre. It's harmless banter, but it's still a little embarrassing to hear when directed at me. I hide my cheeks between behind my hands and raise my eyebrows. "You try that line on Sully yet?"
"Oui, and a fine black eye I carried for the rest of the eve for doing so."
Oh God. Poor guy.
"Now then, what does the lady pleasure? A game of your own or perhaps one of my choosing?"
"Teach me something new. I've yet to learn anything local so I kind of feel left out when the rest of the Shepherds play at night."
"That I can do. We shall start with something simpler, I think. Perhaps a game of Marjolet? It is a popular game from my home that has caught on very well here."
He begins to dole out the cards and I stretch my fingers out. Putting on my game face, I feel my competitive spirit start to flare alive. It's time for a little payback, Virion.
A/N: First off, I apologize for the long wait. This chapter was rough. I wanted to convey Robin's first official steps into tacticanhood now that her basics are done and covered. I didn't mind anything except the actual council section. That was a nightmare. I have to admit, it took a lot of restraint not to make a joke from Mass Effect and have Nethys use air quotes proclaiming, "Ah yes, Plegians. We have dismissed that claim." A lot of the information in this chapter, such as the country's small and under par army as well as the current pacifist government, is from information I found in the official art book, Knights of Iris. I recommend finding some translations if possible. The insight into some of the background of the world is fascinating!
So, until next time everyone. Happy Halloween!
Review Responses -
Alucard45 - Sorry if you got confused. This interlude required you to read between the lines a bit. I'll answer what I can. In relation to the twins', uh, "dad," Morgan's internal thoughts point out that their dad was not a willing partner in the relationship. Morgan states their father was never let out a certain room and was always weak (malnutrition and possible muscle atrophy). Later on, after he was "fixed" he was completely subservient to her will, with the occasional enforcement. So no, someone staying with Grima after her reveal would not make sense. Not unless you were held against your will. Also Morgan is the only manakete between them and no, there father is not an OC but a preexisting character. I would love to comment on the whys and why nots of the time travel points you brought up but that's part of the plot. They'll eventually come to light. I tried to make sure everything has a good reason for it. Time travel is a bitch to work with, let me tell you. So hate away if it makes it easier. :)
whovian18 - Ah, sorry. It was intentional though. I wanted you to be confused until the surprise at the end. Glad you liked the creepy though. It was the Halloween special so you were in the right frame of mind. As for the creepers floating around the twins, they are OCs. The game has no information whatsoever on Grima so if I want to explore them more I have to take some liberties to work in their history. While there are throwbacks to Marth's games for the sake of easter egg goodness as well as universe continuity, it won't overtake the story.
Titan127 - Thank you! I keep on trucking, hoping that each chapter maintains a semblance of awesome. Yeah, I did say things would get kind of wild. I did my best to make this the most different story I could from the other powerhouses around the site. I love them all but felt it best to try and keep this as fresh as possible.
A Shadow's Lament - Well it technically was the Halloween special so I thought it was an appropriate chapter to post. Hella fun to write as well. I'm glad you like the narration twist. My whole point was to trick everyone into thinking it was Marc and then finally reveal it to be Morgan. A trick with a treat befitting the season. I'm just surprised no one caught all the hints I threw to his identity. I'm sneaky like that.
I figured I'd throw everyone for a loop with the advisors and Grima's "family." I like the theory. Heck, I like reading any theory and then sitting back and laughing at who got what right and wrong. As much as I want to comment further, I'll simply let you enjoy the ride aboard the bandwagon of lurrrve.
The darker stuff was the really hard part to write. I didn't want to straight up write the obvious so there's a lot of creepy stuff in between the lines. Morgan's ambivalence is suppose to make you feel exactly like you did, unsettled that someone like him is so okay and natural around such an environment. I did not enjoy writing the part about his thumb. Poor kids. Either way, thanks for the continued support! I always enjoy your musings!
Eternal-Insomnia - Future Past, as well as the last drama CD in Japan, had a lot of influence on the decision to have both exist. While a challenge, I managed to have reasons why they both exist. I think they bring a rather unique dynamic to the story and enjoy writing them immensely, despite being the psychotic little bundles of mayhem they are.
K0yuk1-san - I really would love to answer the questions concerning our lovely missing Robin but the plot keeps me to silence. Very good thoughts though! Why indeed for many of those questions. I'm pleased you like Morgan so much. The boy does idolize him mother after all. So it's only fair he becomes an evil dragon overlord just like her. All of that will definitely be explained though don't expect rainbows and sunshine when it does. If that chapter proved one thing, Grima is as evil as legends proclaimed.
OneShotMasta - Hey again! Ahaha, thanks for reviewing once more. I still get a good laugh and smile from your reviews! I was determined to add as many plot elements as I could to this story, DLC and mundane items included. What better than to use the roster as Robin's key to success, alongside the map of course! Ah, yes, and the healthy doses of insanity. Seems to be a family trait doesn't it. You nailed it on the head though. Morgan and Marc didn't grow up in a healthy atmosphere so their idea of maternal love is rather warped after living with a twisted demon of chaos and ruin. It's meant to be unsettling but Grima isn't suppose to be nice. Or sane. Or humane.
timewastin - Yes, these people are verrrry important. First person is restrictive because I can't jump around given the fixed point of view. Interludes are my way of giving brief glimpses into the background events to keep the readers aware of the plot still going on beyond Robin. Also people had already guessed who Marc was chapters back so I just gave them some finality!
Coco - Hi Coco! Thank you for taking the time to review! No worries about the lack of account. I'm in this for the fun, not the number counts! If you are having just as much fun, which it sounds like, then I'm content with that :) Thank you for your encouraging words! Your review actually helping me force myself over my writer's block. I update about twice a month, though usually not as bad as this! I should get back on schedule in November. Much thanks again for the words and hope you enjoy the future chapters!
Guest - Yeeeeah, she did. It was kind of one of those fight or flight reactions. Fighting wasn't an option so flight it was. Technically she was too busy running for her life to go back and help but I suppose I could have wrote in her lamenting their potential fate or something. They got better though! The militia found them not long after Robin left to fight in the square as Chapter 2 shows. Anyway, thanks for stopping in to read.