Disclaimer – I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
Chapter 35
"...eard...egian...disgrace to the cour..."
The liquid in my glass ripples from the middle outward. A sign of the slight tremor in my hand.
It's happening again. They think I cannot hear their petty jabs. Or, perhaps they wish me to hear every bit of venom they sink deeper into my soul. The court has always had a sick fascination with such desires. The quiet declaration of their victory known throughout the hall. The best enjoyed their reputations for bringing down the most powerful with naught but words and a few well placed rumors. Their arrogance sickens me.
Yet, I continue to dance and smile to their tune.
It's the price I pay for the position I hold. I am the right hand of the Exalt. I must save face to maintain his image. I am also a Shepherd. I bear the accusations and scorn because only I can help keep the flock safe even if they never understand how close the danger is I keep them from.
"...turn on us all. She is no Ylis..."
A crack in the glass appears as my grip tightens. The same crack appears across my mask, distorting my perfect expression.
It's times like this where I wonder if I have become the lamb instead. Are my sacrifices only leading me to the slaughter?
Nod. Laugh. Smile. It's just another day at court.
Air rushes around me as I fall to the floor.
"Shi-!"
There's a stinging in my hip and elbow as I land sideways on the tiled floor, eliciting a sharp gasp from me. My chair follows shortly after with a thud against the fleshy part of my thigh that's sure to leave a bruise. I loudly whisper an obscene curse and roughly shove the object off me.
I fell asleep. Flipping my hair off my face, I see the war council still carries on like it has all morning long. The monotonous jabbering of the newest noble put me so deep in a haze I must have dozed until I slid off the chair.
What a weird dream. Another memory from the Other Robin. Seems she didn't care too much for court gatherings. Can't blame her. But where I feel annoyance, she felt despair. It was a deep sense of revulsion and sadness. I wish I could hear what those women were saying.
There's a sharp tug on the collar of my coat and I'm swiftly pulled to my feet. I'm lifted so high the tips of my toes touch the ground as Frederick's silent rage fills my vision.
"Oops?" I whisper in shame.
My heels hit the ground hard as he drops me and proceeds to drag the chair upright. I get the sneaking suspicion I'm being watched. Looking over my shoulder, I see the closest members of the assembly observing with disapproving stares. That includes my captain who watches in disbelief between several parted fingers. Fortunately it's only our humble corner that seems to have been disturbed. The pompous aristocrat still spewing nonsense in the center circle continues on unaffected by my social faux-pas. Slowly the other nobles begin to turn their attention back to the floor and my spill is hopefully forgotten. Chrom gives a final eyeful of warning before turning back himself.
Frederick, however, isn't finished. He's banished my chair leaving my poor self to stand like several of the other accompanying members behind their respective leaders. Stalking back over, we hover shoulder to shoulder. His steely gaze is focused forward but the words he speaks under his breath are only for me to hear.
"I believe the first thing I advised for maintaining a proper social standing in this affair was to refrain from making an utter fool of yourself."
"Ah, see that's where you weren't specific enough. You did not define exactly what embodies the act of making one's self a fool. Thus, I cannot be faulted for such a breach in civility if I wasn't acutely aware of what you deem worthy or unworthy."
His voice drops menacingly. "You are using the logic of a simpleton to excuse your actions."
"And?"
He shifts in place, straightening his posture and clasping his hands behind his back. "If you do not disagree, I must be under the assumption you take yourself for a simpleton, and by extension, a fool. With that being the case, perhaps it is best to leave you out of further affairs such as these and relegate someone of your lower functionality to more appropriate tasks. Cleaning the pegasi stalls should prove easy enough for you."
My smug smile drops quickly at hearing that ominous statement. I start grovelling immediately.
"Wait, what?" I gasp quickly. "No! No, no, no! I was joking! I am a perfectly functioning human being. See, two plus two is four. I can say the ABCs. The sky is blue and the grass green. Please Frederick, not that!"
"Enough," he snaps roughly. "You are here at the behest of milord. As the Shepherd's tactician, he is giving you a chance many would never have dreamed of acquiring. Squandering the opportunity by making such juvenile demonstrations not only hinders your development but blemishes his image."
Damn. He's got a point. "Sorry, Frederick."
"Then prove it."
"It's hard to do that when nothing is happening. Even you can't deny this is all wordplay. No one wants to cooperate."
"There is a certain way things are done Robin. The nobles will have it no other way."
"Emmeryn has supreme authority though. She can issue orders and they'll have to do what she says, right?" I point out. "Why won't she delegate?"
The great knight looks visibly pained as he stares at the empty seat at the head of this procession. "Her Grace has made it an effort to make all decisions a popular vote when one of extreme importance."
"Fine, and it worked. We all agreed Ylisse is officially in a state of war. We're mobilizing the troops as we speak for the counterattack. What I don't understand is why we can't progress beyond that."
"Assembling the forces and resources for the push will take time."
"Frederick! We are listening to two minor lords argue about who will provide the cheese and cattle for the army's food supply," I argue with a sharp jab to the front. "In the meantime, Plegia is doing who knows what and the city is falling apart at the seams. You tell me if that makes an ounce of sense."
He doesn't dispute me. Even I've caught his growing impatience and occasional glower when a representative wastes too much time on nonsense. Still, he's a proper retainer and knows his place. He'd never dare intervene unless given the freedom to do so. "What would have them do?"
"Get Emmeryn back down here and act like the leader they need! Letting them at each others throats is causing this to devolve into a ruddy mess!"
An elderly woman from some bourgeois guild turns and gives me a pout with her heavily painted face. I give her an evil eye and hiss. She ruffles up in her big coat and turns around with a huff.
I don't know if it's because he's in agreement with me or he simply doesn't have anything left in him to say. Frederick's gone quiet and it's hard not to notice the lingering scowl lines around his mouth. The man's haggard appearance is a testament to the personal hell he's been hiding from the court since the final day of battle. I decide to leave him be.
I force myself to focus on the boring speeches being shuffled around the room. It only takes a few minutes before the heavy sensation to yawn kicks in. My eyes burn from the urge with the returning need to nap. I can't help it! These meetings are nothing but a bunch of inexperienced kids and jaded old-timers yelling at each other.
It's been like this the past few days. The hasty gathering in the castle's main hall has filled only half the seats. With Ylisse now in an official state of war, the delegation of roles has to be established. How many troops will the remaining lords levy out to the crown? Where will the refugees from the west settle for the time being? Who will commandeer the efforts for Ylisstol's reconstruction? It's a mess.
The combination of local lords, the military, and remaining civil representatives of Ylisse's highest factions are here. The large circle only began with a few seats filled thanks to the evacuation. In time, those who could afford the travel arrived. Many figures are either too far in the retreat efforts or unable to leave their own dwellings thanks to the dangers of traveling abroad. Injuries and death are silent reminders of several open seats none wish to remark on.
I don't know many of the faces. Their names and stations remain unknown to me. I couldn't point a single lord out aside from Maribelle. Most of the others are displaced lords, like herself, or local inhabitants. Given the severity of the situation, lower houses in positions of power who are found without a governing lord have come to represent themselves. Markus' father, the mayor of Southtown, has come to stand-in for their region with Ginette as his adviser given the untimely death of their Duchess Eileene in the last battle.
Ylisstol's own face is seen in varying degrees. In place of the college sits a squinty-eyed crone whose multicolored head-wrap is as loud as the patchwork hat on her head. As a senior mage on the college's private circle, she's come to fill-in for the elderly Head Archon who remains comatose in the aftermath of the wall's destruction. Surviving the initial blast thanks to Ricken's powerful wind shield, Idris worked himself ragged until an invading Plegian caught the man by surprise up the back of his head with blunt end of his pommel.
Nethys may have been caught in the first blast from the dragon cannon but she doesn't seem to be suffering from it. The stubborn warrior was fished out of the rubble half buried and swearing unholy oaths all the way to the healer's staff. Refusing to take more efforts than needed, the guard captain only allowed herself to be healed to an extent before ordering further work be saved for her injured guards. The woman sits proudly in her uniform with one arm still in a sling and bandages wrapped over the scarred left half of her face. Two lieutenants stand behind her, one a familiar man of burly stature I've seen follow her before. The other is missing, instead replaced with a nervous looking Markus. His eyes keep drifting between his father and the olive-skinned blonde behind him.
As for the army, both of Phila's siblings who are freshly healed from both of their respective bouts stand at the forefront with a mix of new and old lieutenants themselves. Phila is positioned beside the most glaring fault in the room. The Exalt's chair sits open and empty of its occupant. The leader of the Pegasus Knights attends in her stead ready to relay the information to the missing queen.
Emmeryn's situation is precarious. After battle, she attended to the immediate affairs involving clean-up and the welcoming of our newly arrived allies. However, as news of the destruction began to grow, the Exalt started to withdraw from the rest. Emmeryn's face grew pale with each update to the body count. Her hands would begin to shake more and more with each injured soul put under her to heal. Her breaths grew shallower when the city was finally gazed upon in our first true moment of rest.
When some semblance of control returned and no sign of a resurgence by Plegia was confirmed, she disappeared. Her delegations came via word of mouth through Phila or Frederick. Unless the concerns came to her through those channels, she remained distant. Instead, the burden has fallen upon her brother. Chrom's days have become an endless string of meetings in the day and long, uninterrupted visits to his sister's heavily secured rooms at night. When he isn't there, Lissa has taken his place.
Rumors swirl about the Exalt's current status. Some claim she is merely in mourning. Someone whispered she's gone mad with grief. Others say she's actually been wounded horrifically and won't show her face to the public. While I believe it's simply a bad case of the first, the fact she's been holed up for so long has me worried it may be blending into the second. I may have prevented Emmeryn's abduction but her disappearance has made it seem like no difference was made. I fear events have done more harm than good for her.
Emmeryn is a kind soul who wishes only for peace. Her gentle nature has been exactly what the country needed to heal. But the horror of war seems to have rattled her. Between Gangrel's words and the physical devastation of her city, the Exalt is suffering under a heavy mental blow. Self-guilt and shock.
That's not what I wanted for her. None of this was. I only wanted to save her. Now, it seems like the opposite has happened.
When we successfully repelled Emmeryn's assassination attempt, there was a lot of celebrating afterward. Sure, we mourned. How could we not? But for the majority, it was a time of positivity. The Exalt's speech and ceremony pulled the army together under a single bond of camaraderie. The common folk were able to celebrate the birth of new heroes and spirit themselves with the notion that Naga's blessing had saved them once more. Ylisse's brief moment of fear led to a strong sense of national pride that lingered on everyone's lips for days.
With this attack we should have repelled Plegia and enjoyed our victory, but the reaction is far from the same. Instead, when the dust had settled, the city drew quiet. Much like the Exalt herself, we were all numb from the experience.
My exit from battle occurred at the very turn of the tide. From seemingly nowhere, the Feroxi reinforcements we had thought lost came to our aid. Apparently there was a supposed surprise ambush on Plegia's part that was prevented by luck and chance according to Raimi. Upon finding the orders among the enemy bodies, Flavia's general rushed her people to Ylisse.
Their numbers were even fewer than ours but the aggression and ferocity they attacked with were more than enough. They didn't move in the same disciplined lines our people did. The untrained eye would think them no more than the fabled barbarians they were rumored to be, acting with little regard to plans or patterns. The chain of command is subtle, but there. Unlike our officers, authority in the Feroxi forces is hardly decorated. They can blend almost seamlessly into their own save for slight alterations in their wardrobes that denote otherwise. A way for a strategist to send a unit into disarray is to take out the chain of command. It throws the foot soldiers into confusion. Most armies won't resort to such a tactic as it's considered unfair. An unwritten rule in the code of war. Of course we all know Gangrel just threw that out a window and did as he pleased. Aversa had successfully worked that move against us but found it almost useless against the Feroxi.
The aid of our allies warmed the dying embers of the Ylissean fighters and reignited their resilience to new levels. All other obstacles hampering us were dispelled in the resurgence. My own battle saved our behinds from the Risen. Lucina's crew dismantled the dragon cannon preventing a deadly third strike aimed for the very heart of our army. Not only that, she secured the remains of the machine for our own future usage.
We had pushed Plegia out of the city by the dawn of the third day. Still, we continued to fight. The enemy may have lost their edge but Gangrel continued to push his numerous forces against us. We thought it a typical move befitting his tendencies but the Mad King proved as wily as the game classification assigned to him. Over the morning and afternoon the strong swell of bodies began to show an obvious flaw in its formation. The only Plegians to find themselves on our swords were simple foot units. The wyverns above thinned and feinted at our forces until they disappeared wholly. When men and women turned for orders, they found their officers gone.
Aversa pressed the bulk of the Plegian army, the conscripted farmers and beggars of their land, to the front to occupy us. With them acting as fodder for our weapons, she stealthily retreated the officers, mercenaries, and genuinely more worthwhile units away in retreat through the far treeline. With their plans thrown into disarray and resistance stronger than before, she must have advised to regroup and plan anew. The Plegian bank had to have paid good gold for those trained mercenaries and she wasn't going to waste them in what could potentially end in a deadlock. The grunts she thrust against us are easily replaced from the masses in Plegia. They served her purpose well.
It was around evening when the last of the fleeing, panicked Plegians left our walls. The Feroxi and some of our own Ylisseans wanted to give chase to pick off who they could. Dwindle the forces as much as possible. They didn't follow the rules so why should we offer them the mercy of a clean retreat? Emmeryn, bless her pure soul, put an end to the plans before I could open my mouth in protest. Her soft voice broke loud and clear over all of us. There would be no more violence. We'd shed enough. It didn't matter who argued or agreed, the Exalt's word was law.
On the following morning, it was finally quiet enough to slow down and breathe. I climbed to one of the remaining towers on the wall and made my way up to the roof. I'll never forget that first shock of seeing Ylisstol as it was in the battle's end. Our beautiful city lay in ruins. The destruction of the front wall left us not only exposed but the lower quarters destroyed. The primary gate and much of the stone had been blown inward peppering the local abodes with debris. Other buildings lay burned from the exchange of magical fire or vandalized by the fights around it. The grand cathedral was nothing but a smoking skeleton on the dreary gray backdrop. Serene Square was a mess of charred remains and upturned tiles.
And the bodies. God, I will never forget that sight the most. Not just on the inside of the city but the outside. Plegians and Ylisseans, warriors and civilians. Death made exceptions for no one. The smell of decay was ripe on wind and it only grew worse in the days after. The whole clean-up process is something I am very grateful to not be a part of. Disease is a pressing issue but the surviving priests are handling the funeral rites for our citizens as gently as they can in the time they can afford.
I...I don't want to talk about the plans for the Plegians. The thought of it makes me burn up. They're still human. They deserve some sort of respect even in death. Some didn't have a choice and the fact that they wanted to just-
I realize I've been holding my breath and slowly release it.
I can't change everything. I can only hope my voice can help sway what I believe is the right course of action. What happens beyond that remains to be seen.
Time moves on as the wax of the candles drips further down. Noon arrives and the groups dismiss until only military officials remain. I swap one dismal hell for another. With domestic matters done, we now focus on the steps to counterattack with the combined Ylissean and Feroxi forces. But again, we argue round and round about the future. The newest discussion is on whether we should wait for Flavia and Basilio's full reinforcements or press ahead with who we have and wait for them to catch up. Attacking Plegia on home turf gives us the advantage of terrain and a quick strike at their recuperating forces. However, waiting for the Khans will guarantee us a stronger, larger body count. Plans need not be as risky or crafty. But, the time frame allows for Plegia to gain advantages themselves. They can grow their numbers and continue raiding against us.
Every side is a gamble, every decision an unknown. The pressure of committing to a decision is stifling. It garners you enemies and causes you to question your own self. I don't know if I can choose a side. One party brings up a good point and then another counters it just as well. Until I've got a gun to my head, I think I'll just keep waffling. I'm scared of putting in my claims too early and screwing everything up for everyone else. What hurts the most is how much weight the word of the Shepherds carries here. If Chrom places his lot with any specific decisions, he has the promise of not only a prince but one of Ylisse's own specialized forces. As a tactician I have a chance to influence his choice, and if I guide him the wrong way it could end badly for him. Like Emmeryn, he's worked hard for his reputation. All of that can vanish in the blink of an eye if things crash and burn.
Why didn't the games ever mention this? It made Robin's job seem like sunshine and rainbows. Everyone just took their word for it and went along with the plan. In reality, it's more than just the Shepherds who need convincing. There's the Exalt, nobles, allies, and all sorts of politics involved. It sucks!
Sweet clementines! Is that the call for an end to today's affairs! Yes!
The flurry of bodies attempting to retreat proves the desperation of the others is equal to my own. The current council is clearly done with affairs and ready to disperse for some quiet time. I heartily agree. I haven't been much in the mood for anything lately. I try my best to keep sane on the outside but on the inside it's a struggle.
The war itself isn't just affecting me. It's the events in it. Things became personal. Too personal. The kidnapping hasn't left the back of mind since. Always lingering, those-
"You there. Madame! You are the young lady know as Robin, yes?"
My body stiffens and I can feel my teeth start to grind together in frustration. Not again.
Unlike my dream where Other Robin seemed to be having a rough time, I'm encountering a more positive reception here at court as of late. Somehow, accounts of my glorious escapades in battle seem to have rattled the local community. I'm no longer a shadowy face hiding in the midst of the Shepherds. Suddenly I've become a figure of some garnered interest. I'm not saying I've become the bell of the ball. Just that a few nobles have suddenly become aware of my presence. And with that, the position I'm in.
Maribelle found me the other day, trapped in some eastern lord's speech about his own prowess in battle. After shooing off the fellow, the young Duchess and I reintroduced ourselves properly. Lissa had been sending letters which included details of my own progress in the Shepherds. There was only so much time to speak during our recess but Maribelle made sure to warn me before we parted that I've now become exposed to the court. What comes with this new found fame is a combination of benefits and hazards. The dangers included bottom feeders attempting to latch on and further their own benefits.
I slowly turn on my heel, now facing one of those creatures. 'What the hell do you want,' is what I want to say. Somehow, I manage to find my best customer service face and restrain myself..
"Can I help you?" I ask with my slasher smile.
Today's offender is another noble. He's a bulbous man of sixty-plus years with a wide girth and a head too small for his shoulders. He reeks of chicken and I can see a few crumbs of his earlier meal caught in his bushy beard. The man's tiny black eyes suck me in like his next roast.
He dips downward using the length of his fancy cane to hold him up. "We have not yet had the pleasure to meet. Allow me a proper introduction. I am Lord Hollard Penn, retainer to the Duke of Sundered Bay."
A corner of my mouth dips in distaste. Here we go again. "Never heard of you."
My blunt statement catches the man off guard. His fake geniality falters and he upturns his nose to hide the surprise. "Ah, well that would be expected. You are a new face to the court."
"Uh huh." I lean back on my heel and cross my arms over my chest trying to look as confrontational as possible.
"It's a thrilling feeling, is it not? A new beginning in the more glorious court in Akaneia. Many strive to reach these hallowed halls. I, myself, toiled hard in the ship harbors of the bay to raise my family name. I remember the first steps into the city, I but a shadow to my esteemed lord. There is a sense of pride like no other."
What excuse should I use on him to get away? I'm hungry? I have to throw up? Severe diarrhea?
He brings his decorative accessory before him, placing both hands atop it while he muses. "It is refreshing to see another new face arrive. One of humble origins such as myself. To see a young woman rise from obscurity to a position of power is not a story one hears everyday."
"I guess not."
My terse, uninterested responses bounce right off him. He barely gives me a chance to respond before continuing. He acts as though I should be honored he's giving me the time of day. Like I really want to bask in this vat of chicken fat.
I turn off my hearing and go dormant as he starts to blather on. Occasionally I pick up a word like 'opportunity', 'privileges', or 'mentor.' This minor lord is trying to bribe me to his side thanks to my connections with the royal family. Probably hopes I can grant him a few favors or put in a good word for his name. Sir, I can barely keep my own name from scraping through the mud as I am.
I'm thinking about just letting off a scream and then running away when I catch the bouncing curls of my savior arriving past his portly behind. Thank God!
Maribelle's perfectly postured posterior sweeps in between us with ease. In her satin shoes, it's as if she's gliding on water. With her bereavement over, her wardrobe has returned to the creams and pinks she prefers. Her layered skirts are a rainbow of pink hues that end in drapings connected by tiny bows. The powder pink knit shawl over her shoulders keeps her warm. As always, her signature weapon rests in one gloved hand at her side.
Unlike some nobles whose airs seem forced, Maribelle is completely natural in her poise. This is her element. The atmosphere and intrigue make the newly appointed Duchess a blessing to have as an ally and a terror to have as an enemy. If her umbrella doesn't destroy you, her expert use of courtly intrigue will finish off whatever her accessory didn't.
"Lord Penn, what a pleasure it is to encounter you this afternoon," she greets with a charming smile.
The man in question seems to ruffle up nicely to Maribelle's greeting. He subtly preens himself while looking down his beaky nose at her. "Why, Lady Maribelle! I am ever humbled to find myself in your fair view. Allow me to offer my condolences to you. Word reached my door of the terrible disaster that befell your house. If there is anything House Penn can do for you, we will to what we can. I shall pray to Naga that the cowardly fiends who perpetrated such a feat are caught and quartered."
These false pleasantries are grating on my ears. Gag me.
"You're too kind," Maribelle answers with such sincerity I'm almost convinced she believes him. Almost. She's playing coy, pressing a few fingers to her cheek. "Forgive my intrusion but I had hopes of delivering my acquaintance from your conversation. I promised to present her to a few mutual friends of mine. If your current subject matter is none too pressing, that is."
"No," I grunt.
"A passing conversation then? 'Chewing the fat' as lower folk fondly say."
I deliver the most bored look I possibly can. "Not really. The old windbag is either attempting to get in my pants, recruit me, or both. Joke's on him. I don't go for guys with egos bigger than their dicks."
Maribelle blinks three times, her face turning pale as her lips press together in a thinly made smile. "Oh."
I mimic Maribelle's earlier smile but leave out the charm and add the sweet sting of acidity. Lord Penn's illustrious cane slips from his grasp and clatters to the floor. Several young ladies behind us let out audible gasps and someone begins choking in shock. I hear Eldaran let out a short burst of laughter before Viola shuts him up with a sharp word. At least someone's on my side.
The elderly braggart's mouth opens and closes in a sputtering of disbelief that only fills me with gleeful pride. I love shutting down obnoxious people.
"Gracious! That must be the exhaustion talking. Deepest apologies Lord Penn. Our tactician is simply weary from the stress of current happenings. You must forgive her lapse in manners. She's simply not at her best," Maribelle apologizes sweetly while wrapping an arm tightly through my own. Her head tilts to the side and she offers her best submissive smile. "Forgive us but I believe it best I simply retire her from further social matters. Pardon us."
"But I didn't get to-"
Maribelle slips a hand over my mouth and talks loudly over my muffled speech. "If you must yawn at least cover it. It's only proper when in good company."
She drags me through the crowd leaving the man looking aghast. As we pass, General Eldaran gives me a good-natured wink before suffering an elbowing from his sister. Maribelle urges me on until we reach the far end of the room.
She releases me and I step away, breathing in my freedom. "Thank you! I swear to Naga if he kept going on I would have- Ow! Hey!"
Maribelle's parasol stings the back of my heel as she wallops one on me. Her face is starting to glow red, sort of like her sprite when she's really embarrassed.
"Robin, I cannot believe the audacity you have just displayed. Lord Penn is a man of genteel stature. When addressing a fellow courtier, one speaks with equal refinement. Such churlish vocabulary will bring the ire of an entire house upon you."
"I don't really care. It's not like there's anything for him to go after. I'm a simple nobody Maribelle. Whose honor am I reflecting but my own?"
I bring an arm up and protect my head from another swat of her umbrella. God, that thing is heavy!
"An erroneous answer." She flicks her head, moving some of her numerous curls over her shoulder. "You are an honored guest under the house of the royal family and a direct confidant to its current heir. If you believe yourself a creature of little standing, you are sorely mistaken."
"I feel like we've had this conversation already."
"We have, dear, yet it seems my lessons did not make a lasting impression. Perhaps a more forceful approach is needed?"
"Please no," I wince.
"You represent the good graces of her Ladyship. Do not smear her image simply because you cannot keep your boorish habits from escaping. Control yourself as most young woman your age do."
Steps come up behind me and Maribelle adjusts to a low curtsy to accommodate for Chrom's quick entrance. He nods in greeting to her before giving me a dubious stare.
"I saw the spectacle from across the way. Is it too much to hope you all simply had a friendly chat?"
Maribelle reaches out and deposits me forward like a misbehaving child. "My lord, if you must insist on allowing the Shepherds into court I would beg of you to at least have them show a modicum of civility."
"What did you do now?" the prince exasperates.
I shrug. "Nothing. I simply diverted unwanted attentions elsewhere."
"Brusquely, if I may add," Maribelle punctures loudly. She takes her umbrella and drops it to rest before her with a heavy click of the tip to the tile. "She right-out insulted Lord Penn."
"It was funny though," I snicker.
Chrom grumbles under his breath. He ruffles his hair and address me with tired restraint. "Robin, please don't antagonize the nobles."
I press a hand to my chest dramatically. "He was antagonizing me!"
Another warning tap at my heels causes me to hop in pain as Maribelle speaks. "Hardly. Your word was tactless and crude."
"What, may I ask, did you say this time?" Chrom all but braces, expecting the worst.
Maribelle looks him dead in the eye and doesn't miss a beat. "Robin rather boldly proclaimed she had no interest in courting a man whose ego was larger than his manhood."
"You should have seen the look on his face," I snort into the back of my hand, trying to hold back a laugh.
Chrom's surprise is short-lived. He's come to expect my antics and this is nothing new. Still, he goes a tad red and massages the bridge of his nose "Naga's breath Robin."
"What? It's the truth, isn't it?"
"Sadly," he sighs. "Penn's ego is well known."
Maribelle nods in agreement with Chrom and settles down to ponder the thought. "Well, yes, I am inclined to agree. Lord Penn's attitude is insufferable. His attempts to worm his way to higher circles are often-"
She startles and then corrects herself. "Milord, that is not the point."
"Right, right," he waves with disinterest.
Before she can continue to admonish me, Maribelle quiets down. Beyond us, a middle-aged woman waves for the Duchess' attention. The blonde huffs and straightens a wrinkle in her bodice.
"That would be Lady Beatrix. Her husband, if you do not recall, is the honorable Lord Alden. The justice in charge of officiating my...inheritance. More matters I must attend to I'm afraid."
Her features soften as she pats my shoulder once. There's a tiny sliver in her almost friendly smile that makes me think she has evil things planned for me. "Robin, before I leave, I must extend an invitation to you for tea sometime. I hardly believe the brief reunion we had yesterday is befitting for two fellow Shepherds. I would dearly love to discuss your future plans with milord and my dearest Lissa. Especially on the subject of your extended stay here in court."
"Sure." She looks perfectly content but I feel slightly threatened for my life with that last sentence.
We finish exchanging our farewells allowing her to leave with a small curtsy and one last pointed look toward me.
"She's going to kill me, isn't she?" I whisper with a final wave.
He leans in while watching her disappear into the crowd. "Maribelle is no where near as bad as Frederick. I wouldn't worry so much about your life as your own sense of self-worth."
"Lovely."
He tips his head toward the doors. "We best leave before you insult the whole court's honor."
"Just the ones who deserve it," I whine while following after him.
He takes me into the private wing and I'm grateful for the peace that follows us. Once the guard shuts the door behind us, we're left alone.
"Robin..." Great, Chrom's addressing me with his authoritative dad voice.
"Don't start," I answer back. "I've heard plenty from Frederick and Maribelle already."
We wander aimlessly through the halls, his intent to say his piece guiding his steps. "You can't keep doing this. Not everyone can be paid off with a kind compliment and a party favor."
He's right, of course. They usually are. Chrom's the one that makes the guilt seem real though. I feel a hint of shame and shy away. "Fine. I guess I'll just, I dunno, have to escape faster then. Not my fault I can't put up with their insufferable attitudes. I hate fake people. Just tell it like it is."
My begrudging admission seems to quell his need to play peacekeeper and he backs off. Instead, he rubs the side of his face and lets his gaze wander. "I'm rather surprised he even sought you out. Lord Penn has a reputation for the wandering eye, especially with new debutantes. You don't strike me as the type he typically baits."
"Really," I comment in curiosity.
Chrom speaks completely unabashed and ends with a tiny shake of his head. "Well, you aren't exactly an ideal lady. What he sees in you is beyond me."
I stop in my tracks and gawk at the back of his head. Did he just say what I think he did?
Wait. A. Minute. This is familiar. Ah, how could I forget? Ha! I suppose I was bound to encounter this at some point. I did wonder if I was ever going to hear one of these conversations and look at what I'm hearing now! A genuine, honest to God support conversation. Too bad it's not the bath exchange. That'd be hella rad.
…...
Wait. No it wouldn't. Gah! Stupid power of suggestion. Curse you Feroxi crone!
Anyway, I suppose I could let this slide. But where's the fun in that?
Chrom finally catches on that I'm no longer by his side and he stops. He throws me a questioning look over his shoulder and I force on a blank face. It's hard not to smile but I suppress it as best I can.
"Excuse you?" I say with as much disbelief as I can fake. "Now who's the one who needs some lessons in manners?"
"Hm?" He cocks his head, genuinely unaware of what I mean. You poor, poor soul.
I hold up a single finger. "Think real hard on what you just said, Chrom. About me not being an ideal lady."
"Well you aren't," he says while thinking back on our past exchange. I can hear a clock hand ticking in my head until it reaches zero and explodes. His face alights in alarm and he scrambles to fix his social mishap. "Oh! No, no, that's not what I meant."
"Sure," I say unconvinced. I dramatically turn with a great stomp and begin to walk the other way. Facing away from him, I can feel myself starting to slip.
His footsteps are a loud rush and I can hear the fear in his voice as he tries to catch up with me.
"Gods. That's not what I...Robin, wait!"
This is hilarious. It's getting hard to hold this serious look because I'm dying inside. He is so easy to tease it physically hurts. I slowly meet him as he stumbles. He places a hand on his thigh to rest while he speaks through short breaths.
"H-hold on, it's just a misunderstanding," Chrom panics. "I simply meant you don't match the typical image of woman. When I imagine a 'Lady' I see the women of the court. Tall, elegant females in dresses. Proper, perfumed nobles' daughters, like Maribelle. That's all I meant."
Chrom, that sounds even worse then before. No wonder Robin took a rock to your head. I almost feel bad as I continue to snark. "Thank you for clarifying I'm no longer a female by your standards. I'll have to inform Sully while I'm at it. She'll love to hear the news."
"That's not-I mean the title of a Lady. As in a status, not an actual woman. You're clearly female."
He takes both hands and starts to gesture obscurely at specific focal points on my body. "You have an obvious...uh...that is...and your..."
And that's where I break. I place a hand on his shoulder for reassurance even as I start to crack. I didn't think he could get any worse but the power of dork-itude is strong with this one. He's lucky I'm so use to this and that I'm taking it in good humor. "Chrom, stop before you hurt yourself."
His concern melts away into wariness then disbelief. "You're laughing."
"And you're still easy to trick. Haven't you figured out when I'm teasing you yet? I do it all the time." I stifle the giggles into my sleeve and apologize as sincerely as I can. "Sorry, you know I can't help myself."
He's sulking. I've managed to make the prince of Ylisse sulk!
"Chrom, don't be mad," I persist.
He balances against the nearest wall and finds a way to remain upbeat despite his embarrassment. "Dear Gods, I thought you had me dancing on hot embers," he chides weakly.
I place my hands on my hips and raise my brows in emphasis of my point. "That's your fault. You shouldn't be so gullible."
"Thank you," he groans sarcastically.
"Hey, at least you aren't the worst. Vaike takes the crown there."
"I'm only second to worst, then? What a title."
The itch to walk rears up and I check our surroundings. We've made it to the center of the royal wing. The passages all lead to the main hall, bed chambers, and outside gardens. Chrom's probably where he needs to be but I have the entirety of the evening at my disposal with my studies canceled. Miriel's apparently playing mad scientist in her study and doesn't have time for it. Continuing my walk isn't a bad idea.
"Hey, listen. Now that things are over for the day, I'm going to make a break for the outdoors. The inside's too stuffy and I should let out some steam before I insult someone's reputation and wind up in a duel."
He jerks up and nicks the corner of a painting causing it to go crooked. He mutters something under his breath before fixing the askew frame.
"Are you going alone?" Chrom asks with a degree of hesitation.
"That was the plan," I answer back.
Chrom backs away from the portrait and checks it for balance before facing me. He goes to say something and seems to lose his will. Taking another breath, he starts again.
"Would you, er, prefer company?"
"You want to come with?" I cock my head in confusion. Why so jittery over a simple question?
He stares everywhere but me, finding an interesting crack in the far wall. He's trying to sound nonchalant about it but he's clearly nervous. "Only if you wish. If you prefer your privacy then I'll happily oblige."
"Uh, I guess it's not a problem."
He breaths so deep it's like I've liberated his soul from a heavy sin. "Good. Shall we?"
Chrom slowly returns to normal as we resume our walk. The conversation itself doesn't survive the trek to the garden. Nonetheless, it's a comfortable quiet that passes between us. The world is washed in a golden glow as the sky blends in shades of reds and pinks that remind me of Maribelle's dress. A few crickets chirp and it feels serene being protected behind the high castle walls. Here, I can't see the terrible mess that lingers out there. This is a bubble of peace in the mad chaos.
Chrom somehow takes the lead and we wander the familiar hedges of the royals' personal yard. Despite the warm weather, the air offers a light breeze that causes me to draw into my coat. I tug my hands further into my sleeves.
I volunteer to break the silence first, starting with a shaky chuckle. "Sorry. I didn't really come prepared with a bag of topics to converse about."
Chrom finds himself pulling his cape closer around his shoulders as the wind tousles his hair. "I wouldn't worry. The quiet hardly bothers me lately. Moments like this are a blessing."
I can't help but feel for him. How hard must it be to walk in his shoes? All that responsibility and pressure. I'll admit I've worried once and a while. He's seems alright but it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"How's it going?" I murmur while watching a fuzzy bee land on a nearby daisy.
He drones like he's reciting these facts for the assembly the hundredth time. He's so tired and detached. "Well, the lower quarters are a total loss. The construction needed there will take months. The people won't be able to return to their homes until who knows when. That's not taking into consideration the economic loss we'll take. Three quarters of the market system was located in Ylisstol's south. The wall made a mess of many of the businesses. Aside from that, the stonework in-"
I catch him and pull us both to a stop. "No Chrom. How are you?"
Chrom's blue eyes open wide and his mouth parts in surprise. He seems astonished, as if no one has ever asked him something like that. Quickly as it comes, he covers it up.
"Ah, me. How I'm doing."
I watch him expectantly. Slowly, he releases his princely responsibility and I see the tired young man underneath come forth.
"Truthfully?" he almost sighs in relief.
"Be as blunt as you bloody-well can," I encourage softly.
"As honest as possible?" He chuckles. "Alright. You asked for it."
He meanders over to the center of the alcove we're in. A lone tree sits in the corner giving shade to a small fountain and several planters filled with pretty yellow and orange tipped flowers called Sunbursts. Chrom presses his back against the trunk and grows comfortable watching the tiny trickle of water flowing from the top of the fountain.
"I'm afraid Robin." The weight of his words is like a hammer to my chest. "I feel like I'm suffocating under an unbearable force and can't push it off."
I wander to the fountain and sit down along the edge. I want to give him space to let it all out. "Why, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Aside from the obvious?" he says sadly. "My city lies in ruins. Our people our dead and the enemy is stacked and burning in a mass grave at our doorway."
I visibly flinch and he closes his eyes in regret. It takes a minute for him to start again. "My sister refuses to speak and everyone is looking for answers. The longer Emm stays away, the more eyes turn to me. It's frustrating. I'm trying to get her to open up and the nobles buzz like flies at the door looking for hand-outs I can't give."
His boot heel scrapes in no set pattern through the leaves and grass. "And then there's the war. This damnable war."
He raises his right hand and clenches it into a fist before opening it again. "Everything I worked hard for. Emm's dream. Lissa's future. Ylisstol's peace. Gone."
I think he's done but feel like a hidden doubt remains. He's looking so hard into his hand, eyes dark and clouded. I lean forward. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"Personal demons, Robin. The worst sort of fears you could have."
Don't I know that. Still, the chill in his voice unnerves me. What's haunting him so?
Chrom drops his fist and lets his head sink back against the bark. I feel like this is a rare side of him not many see. A vulnerable, thoughtful one that's typically held back in favor of the strong, sensible leader he's expected to uphold.
"I never told you of him, did I? My father? His war?"
His father? That's right. The previous Exalt. The one who started a- Ah, that's it. The sins of the forefather following the progeny. It makes sense now.
"I've got a good idea of him," I say, quickly remembering what I can recall from the game.
"I'm sure what you've been told isn't the half of it," he scoffs bitterly. "We all like to think we've moved on. That his actions were a lifetime ago. In reality, it's only been a decade and then some. I was young but I remembered..."
I should tell him to stop. I know the story. Why make him relive it? But something inside tells me to let him. He needs release and I just want him to feel better. I offer him the best support I can, an understanding and supportive ear.
The wind whispers through the tree rustling free some leaves. They fall and one catches in his hair. He extracts it, twirling the three-pronged leaf by the stem.
"The noble families in Ylisse have a superstition of sorts. Three is a holy number. It's a reoccurring number in the force of life. The three elements of the natural order. The three-faced mother goddess of old. The three heroes of the Exalt's first campaign. Most rulers followed the pattern, each attempting for three children if possible. The eldest is always the heir. The second will one day assume control of the military. The third has ties to the church, usually as a healer or cleric."
I do a tally in my head and realize the current set of royal children are no different. "Your family followed suit."
"We're a stickler for habits," he remarks with a faint trace of pride.
"The point being, my father was the youngest. From an early age, he spent much of his time steeped in the teachings of Naga's church. He was a devout man, almost to a fault. When my uncle, his middle brother passed away early to a weak constitution, he found his training switched. His scripture swapped for a sword. From ten summers on, he became a military man."
"Bad luck seemed to follow my father everywhere. Years later, my grandmother and elder uncle were ambushed in their carriage returning from the first peace talks to the Feroxi people in a century. The perpetrators were most likely extremists who wished to keep our borders closed. Ylisse had spent so long closed off from the world that some feared what reaching out to others would do. The Feroxi barbarian is not a stereotype made for idle fun. We once feared their raids every winter along the borders."
I regret asking because I have a sure idea of the truth. "Did they die?"
Chrom catches the full shape of the leaf in his palm and brings it to a close, crushing it. He lets it fall and with it, his voice.
"Yes. Just like that my father, the youngest of three, became Exalt after the former and her heir passed. My father never got over that. I believe that was the start of his paranoia. He firmly believed in his journals it was not rebels but Plegians who did the deed."
"Well. Shit," I gasp.
"Father already had roots in his distrust for the Plegian people thanks to our tumultuous past. An intertwined rope knotted with bloody bouts and religious wars. With revenge on his mind, my father believed he had every right invoking war. His shared blood with Naga gave him the divine decree to do so, even when nobles like Maribelle's father objected. He assumed complete authority over our forces and wouldn't listen to a word of resistance under threat of imprisonment."
"So he waged a war that reignited the bad blood between both countries," I summarize.
"Not just that," he grits out, voice cracking in thinly concealed rage. "My father almost destroyed us. Everything our ancestors worked to establish was almost eradicated by one man's selfish ideals."
"It must have been hard on you."
Chrom presses away from the tree, stepping slowly over to where I sit. He doesn't join me but stands facing the opposite direction to watch the sun start to dip behind the walls. "I remember only a small portion of it. The nobles dogging him in the halls. The quiet horror the common folk exhibited around him. The fear in his own personal bodyguards. He was paranoid, you see. Always thought someone would try to assassinate him like my grandmother and uncle."
The previous rage falls away and the previous sadness returns, heavier than before. The past plays before his eyes as he reminisces over his earliest years.
"It's strange. For all his misdeeds, he was never cruel to us. My mother may have detested his beliefs and actions, but she never hated the man he was in private. And, he loved Emmeryn and I. We were never wanting even as the peasants died of starvation in the streets. He read me stories and played with Emmeryn's dolls."
Chrom gives his first genuine smile, a kind one. "He was always gentle with Mother, as though she were made of glass."
The admission surprises me. Chrom's father has only been painted as a horrible blemish on the past. A man who should be feared. Yet even though the past Exalt carries the title of a tyrant, he was still a loving father and husband. That means he wasn't completely heartless. Misguided and perhaps ruthless, but still human.
"He wasn't a bad man, then. Not wholly anyway," I muse thoughtfully. That earns a sharp laugh from my companion.
"Are you certain? He seems to have found it acceptable to run off into the arms of another woman as soon as my mother left during their estrangement."
"Chrom, he still cared about his family. Even at his worst," I point out.
"I know, and that's why I wanted to hate him even more. I needed an excuse to revile him. Just, let him be a pure villain. But I can't." The anger leaves and is replaced with bitterness. "He was fighting for us even when the haze of his convictions and...and mistakes blinded him."
"My mother became violently ill in the final months of Lissa's pregnancy. He did everything he could to save her but the birthing claimed her life after it was done. Anneliese said it was natural circumstances considering her age and health, but he wouldn't hear it. To his dying day my father claimed it was a Plegian mage who cursed her. A dark spell that drained her health to the end. Her death pushed him over the edge. Whatever peace we may have had died with her final breaths. He returned to the field shortly after and led a violent, reckless razing through the Plegian countryside."
I poke at the water making tiny circles that ripple into interwoven chains. "That's what Gangrel mentioned, isn't it? The pillaging and murdering."
Chrom breathes deeply as his story winds down with the last rays of light slipping away. "That's correct. It started with a surprise attack against a neutral village called Blackwater. Our forces invaded in the night under his claims of it being a haven for Grimleal cultists. In the morning, all they found were a village of fisher folk. Despite the protests, he forced his march. He fought to the very doorstep of the former Plegian King. Father murdered the royal family, down to the youngest child. Not much is said about what happened after that. I've heard whispers that even his closest cohorts could no longer condone his actions when the blood of innocent children were spilled. They left him to fall to the Plegian guards' blades even as he called his men to his side. Truly, it doesn't matter. The war ended with both countries losing their leaders."
"And then Emmeryn became Exalt and the rest is history," I conclude.
"Yeah. A long, tumultuous journey of acceptance," he adds, sinking down to take a spot beside me.
The story has clearly drained him and I do my best to boost his spirits. "You did it all the same. I hear nothing but fond praise for the three of you. Your people love you dearly. No one is going to equate you to him. This war is not your fault. Gangrel started it and you protected them as best you could. As far as I see, you've grown to be the better man. One free of his father's shadow."
"Am I?" Chrom's brooding persona continues to pull through. "I wonder sometimes. They say we share a temper. A similar mindset driven by desire."
"Yeah, a desire to protect family," I reply as cheerfully as I can. "If he had one redeeming trait, it was that. And if you inherited it, I'd say you got off pretty well."
There's the small sliver of hope I was looking for! He eyes me from the side trying to stay stubborn. "You...aren't going to allow me any pity, are you?"
"Why? I see no reason for you to fear. I have no doubts that you're in any danger of becoming anything like your father," I compliment proudly. "Just because you're blood relations doesn't mean you'll turn out exactly as expected. Neither you nor your siblings did. As long as you all continue to work together, I don't see how you could fail."
I see the mention of his siblings start to dampen his spirit. His elder sister's predicament must be worse than I thought.
"Emmeryn's taking this hard, isn't she?" I venture carefully. I don't want to push too hard and risk ruining his whole mood.
There's a light on in the far tower signifying the presence of the Exalt hidden within her rooms. Chrom watches it unhappily before shaking his head. "Emmeryn thinks there's hope for everything. That there is always a peaceful alternative to tread. If she can't find it, she didn't try hard enough. She's obstinate in her way like that. The fact that she couldn't stop the battle haunts her. Emm thinks it's her fault. She speaks about how she should have been more aggressive in her diplomacy or that she could have negotiated further. She just can't grasp that there's evil like Gangrel out there that can't be redeemed. Sometimes, a man can be too far gone."
That makes sense. Emmeryn sees herself a failure and now she's doubting her ability to lead. Setting up a war is not easy and she probably fears making further wrong moves. Like Chrom, her father's war looms behind her and bad decisions will bring that nightmare closer to her own image. She's breaking down under the stress.
Not to seem heartless or anything, but she's going to have to snap out of it. I know better than anyone the weight of a bad decision. But so does Chrom. And I'm sure Phila, Frederick, and every other soldier or leader who's been put in that position. The country needs its leader and she has to be strong.
"You should take a day off from meetings. Both you and Lissa," I comment off-handed. "Send Frederick and I in your stead. Take both your sisters and don't leave each others' sides all day."
He sounds doubtful as he speaks. "You want us to abandon the war efforts for a full day? That hardly seems a good idea, Robin."
"Is it?" I ask. The blurry recollection of my friends' support during my mother's death is what got me through it all. Without them, I would have stayed locked in my room lamenting for weeks longer than I should have. Sometimes support, kin or not, is what you need.
And just like that, a yearning for something close overwhelms me. My own private circle and the intimacy of a family unit hits hard. A moment anyone who has lost a close relative feels when the nostalgia of what's gone sneaks in.
"Family's a powerful medicine, Chrom. It sounds to me like Emmeryn needs something strong to snap her out of her melancholy. From the bond you three have displayed, I think the only ones who can really pull her out of it are you and Lissa. Frederick and Phila, too. I don't know if will help but there's also Mar-...um..."
I almost mention Lucina and Owain with them being siblings now, but I'm not sure how much that would do. I think the idea of them being family is still a foreign topic for all of them. And the alleged stain of their father's infidelity could sour the mood. So I just bypass it and continue.
"You should just spend a day with no interruptions or outside news and help her heal. We're going no where without her and we're suffering for it. She needs a boost. Whether it's morale or something else, I don't know. But the Exalt is a human like the rest of us and even she reaches low points that may seem hard to get out of. Give her hand, she needs it."
"I know, Robin." Chrom lowers his head in regret, resting his chin on his interwoven fingers. "I just don't know how."
"You'll find a way. Family usually does."
He doesn't respond, falling into a deep state of thought. Night is claiming the final bits of day. Stars are starting to dot overhead and I see a servant far off lighting torches around the castle for the coming darkness. Something about watching the flames and seeing the unfamiliar constellations brings me back to our first night together. We sat as two strangers and ended up in a petty argument over a topic I can't even remember.
I've come to know a great deal about everyone now. It's a makeshift family and a bit odd at times, but still the closest thing I have. Chrom, the persistent little bugger he is, has surprisingly been the most supportive even with the notion that's he's supposed to be my commander and leader. Funny because I wouldn't have guessed that. I'm nothing like how the game portrayed Robin so I figured the bond wouldn't be as legendary as the stories made it. Incidentally, our differences make us more compatible.
So...It doesn't seem that odd to me anymore when the words slip out from nowhere. An exchange of stories. Trust I owe tenfold. It's not everything, but I can offer a good start.
"It's funny," I begin thoughtfully. "We have something in common. Lame father figures."
I'm not sure when we got this close. He's sitting one way and I the other with our backs just grazing each other. I can feel him sit up behind me as I speak. I figured that would get his attention. A bit of history I've kept hidden all this time.
"I have not a single memory of him. And what I remember of my mother, she never spoke of him either. He must have done something pretty crappy to make her want to erase him from her existence."
"I..." Chrom trails off. It's probably better. I feel like if I stop now, I won't find the courage to do so again. While I may be an honest person, I do enjoy my privacy. I'm not one for opening up and making a sob story out of past events. Live and let live, you know?
"Whatever he did or decision he chose, we weren't a part of it. It was just my mother and I as far as I know. The earliest I can recall is just us in a harbor town. We've actually always been by the sea, even after moving twice. It's the only place my mother felt at peace. I remember she used to run odd jobs. Protecting merchants, catching bounties. I peddled around in kitchens and helped the locals when I could." There you are Lucina. Happy? A little of your white lie interwoven in fact to cover our butts.
"There's little of what I can remember from that time. The amnesia's all but destroyed my early years. Any names or faces I knew are gone including everything of me and my mother."
"Not a thing?"
"Nope."
"There's not names or landmarks you can recall. Any people that stand out to you? Familiar...faces? Neighbors?"
I know what he's doing. He's trying to gauge my connection to Lucina. For the sake of not fudging up further, it's best to say no. Truthfully, even if I did, I wouldn't remember. Like I said, nothing but a blank void during the supposed time I would have known her.
"Sorry, but no," I confess. I try to stay as unassuming as possible. I don't push my denial any harder and stare unsure at him while he searches my face for breaks in the story.
The extent of my memory goes to maybe eight or nine years old if I'm lucky. The basis of what happens after that grows stronger the closer I get to my current age. While avoiding the futuristic references and bits that are still missing, I recite the literal truth of my past. No lies here.
"All I know is we picked up and left my first home at some point. We traveled twice searching for better job opportunities. Mom wanted to settle down and give me good schooling. We finally made roots in a little town where she became a guard and I did my lessons until I left to finish my apprenticeship in a big city. It was always just us."
"You mentioned her once. Briefly," he recalls quietly. "You spoke fondly of her memory."
I did at some point on the way back from Regna Ferox. Not a lot, just a casual mention of her job and skills. Just remembering her face warms me up inside. "She was my universe. There was no one else, only her. My hero and my friend. Everything I am is because of her."
"She must have been something amazing given how her daughter has turned out."
The boldness of his statement catches me off guard. For having stumbled through our earlier conversation, that was surprisingly suave. Perhaps I misjudged our hopeless prince. "Ha! Mr. Charmer! Is that Vaike's work or Virion's?"
I feel a light nudge in my spine from the back of his elbow. "Where's my credit? I can be charming when I wish."
"Says the man with a limited viewpoint on the feminine ideal."
Another poke. "Stop."
"Ha! Okay!" I chuckle. "She was pretty awesome though. I miss her."
"She must be worried about you."
"Nah." I hear him turn his head so I elaborate, finding it harder than usual to admit. "She passed away some time ago. Sickness in her bones. They found it too late."
Chrom falters epically, torn between how he could be supportive to my morbid admission. "I'm sorry."
I brush him off with the flick of my wrist. No point in dwelling on it. "It's fine. I feel like I've made peace with her death. Whatever happened, it was a long time coming. I was ready."
"It's a shame. A brave woman like that survives numerous encounters only to succumb to illness."
"Believe me Chrom, the irony isn't lost."
"Is that where you learned your skills, then?" he questions. "That is, was she the reason you drew an interest in strategy? Or perhaps someone else you knew. Friends? It seems odd to imagine a baker developing a desire for such a thing."
"Maybe? I don't know. I've just always had an affinity for it. Strategy at least. I like the rush of the moment. I would play plenty of games. Chess and whatnot. Consider it a passionate hobby that somehow spiraled into a life calling after meeting you. I wouldn't have done it otherwise if I hadn't been-"
I almost said it again. That stupid, singular point that ruined everything. It's a pause Chrom doesn't miss. After I make no move to elaborate further, he dares to push the point forward.
"How did it happen?" he asks, his voice low and soft. He's making it so he doesn't sound too invasive.
"I don't know," I answer dumbly.
Of course he doesn't buy it. Not after knowing what he does. "You must remember something," he presses firmly.
I rub the bottom of my palm over the middle of my forehead, massaging the spot as if it would somehow cause the murky depths of my memory to part. "I'm actually not lying about this. I think the trauma of the situation blocked itself out of my mind," I answer, slightly upset about the fact. The truth is right there I just can't grasp it. "I-I do remember going about my morning routine. When I went to leave for my bakery, people were there behind the door. The one grabbed me and then...nothing. Not until you anyway."
I realize I'm omitting the part about the Grimleal. Truth is, I'm debating if it's wise. Maybe once I know more about them I will. Until then, I worry what him knowing will do for the future. If he's willing to traverse half a battlefield to save my sorry arse, imagine what he might do if he knows exactly who to search out. These people are dangerous. More powerful and unpredictable in their skills. They aren't the typical fair the Shepherds have faced before. I do want to tell him eventually! I'm tired of hiding things, even if that's what Lucina wants.
I think once I know what I can about these new enemies, I'll have a talk with Lucina. With how jacked up the time line is now, I don't think keeping things a secret is wise anymore. The power players need to be involved. I'm not so stupid as to do this behind her back. We'll figure it out together. In the meantime, giving him the broad picture will work. At least he knows what's going on now regardless of the why. Still, the baggage is heavy.
Chrom shifts behind me, trying to get comfortable on the stoney texture beneath him. "So, the next thing you remember is when you woke beneath the tree outside Southtown."
"Exactly. I remembered the door and then your voices and the painful pressure of rocks in my back."
"It's odd." I hear the rustle of his clothing as he moves to lean back. We're pressed fully to each other yet still facing opposite sides. A strangely intimate sensation while still being completely separate from each other."We found you alone. Not a soul nearby. Perhaps you escaped?"
"Maybe," I mutter doubtfully.
"You...don't suppose it was a dream?" he continues.
I snort. "Chrom, really?"
I can feel his muscles expand and then retract with the great sigh he gives. "It would seem too much, wouldn't it?"
"This is depressing. I came out here to cheer you up, not bring you down. Now that you know what you need to, can we change topics?"
"That's the thing Robin, we don't know everything. Why in the world would anyone have an interest in a woman like yourself? Who is an even better question."
I'm glad I'm faced away from him because I cringe silently.
Taking my quiet for a sign to continue, Chrom carries on. "If you recall, I promised you after our first meeting I would help you as best I could in reclaiming your life."
"I'm sure that's been put on hold with the war efforts," I conclude.
"Not completely," he replies with some positivity. "If we could locate what village it is you call home, it would be a start."
I cast another look at the alien sky feeling a poetic twist of forlorn longing. "Don't bother. It's too far. Nothing around here strikes me as familiar. It's probably over the ocean or something."
"I wouldn't discredit the possibility just yet," he proclaims, turning just a bit to look at me. "You speak Akaneian almost fluently. The accent is thick at times, but you're more than a beginner at it."
My eyes grow large hearing what he just said. I'm speaking Akaneian. Another language. Not...I thought we were using...I suppose it's silly to think they would speak the same language from where I'm from. But the fact that I'm speaking their language fluently? What the heck?
"Robin?"
Is this another natural reflex, like how I just knew how to work the incantation for a spell? A side-effect of Other Robin's strange implantation in my brain. Just how deep does her influence go? What's that mean for my future? It couldn't be that I'm susceptible to her eventual feelings as well, right? I'm-I'm not going to crazy, am I?
I press my face into both hands, growing ill at the thought. "You ever get the feeling that everything you once knew is maybe not what you thought it was? That suddenly you've become the universe's plaything."
Now it's his turn to be quiet.
"You're not the only one who's scared." I'm teetering on a dangerous line but now I need to let it go. Holding it in will most certainly make me crazy if other me doesn't. I'm playing with fire on all sides and I just keep getting burned. When does it end?
I breathe deep, a faint tremor in my voice. "I've come to the consensus that what I had originally thought about myself may no longer be one hundred percent true. I've tried to stay ignorant to it and the doubts are only getting worse."
The fact that Chrom's not answering makes me burrow deeper into my hands. That's about as close to a full admission as I can get. I highly doubt Other Robin ever replicated a situation like this until the war of Valm. They got to waltz through the whole story with not a care until Validar's big reveal near the end. Here I am bringing up fears about my identity and being not who I thought I was. There's not enough information to cast red flags but it sounds worrying. I just-
"Have you ever given thought to your brand?"
My eye twinges as the severity of those words sink in. My fingers dig into the cloth of my pants as I restrain myself from whirling around on him.
What the-
Keep cool, Robin. Stay. Calm.
Fudge.
"What about it?" I ask almost too neutrally. My tone is robotic. "It's probably a poor choice I made one night when drunk and rebellious."
"I think there's more meaning behind it than that."
Double fudge.
Why is he even mentioning this? Is it...maybe it's because I allowed him that eyeful in Regna Ferox? I remember he took in a good bit of the brand when we sparred that one time. If he remembered it and then the incident with Raimi happened then...
Did he put two and two together? It's hard to deny what my brand could be when it's the exact same fricking thing that was on my old coat. Other Robin probably kept it hidden with a pair of gloves. No one probably gave a damn because they never saw it and Raimi never made her accusation.
I drew attention to myself though with my big mouth. My actions caused new insights to be made. Chrom's not stupid. He can make conclusions if presented with the right clues. If he's been aware of this up until now...How much does he know? What does he know? He must have been researching things himself. Given what I know of his personality, he probably didn't say anything until he felt the absolute need. Given the last time someone accused me of being Plegian, it didn't end well for anyone. Chrom didn't want to make me panic over something that may or may not be truth. I must have convinced him otherwise today.
"It's probably nothing," I say way too rudely. My nerves are affecting me.
"Robin, easy," Chrom pleads."There's nothing to get defensive about."
"Me? You're the one starting to sound suspicious. Maybe you should take it easy," I babble.
"Robin-"
I hop to my feet, my heart thundering in my ears. I'm starting to feel suffocated. I need to go.
"I think I'm done with the fresh air. I'm going to the kitchens for a snack."
The rocks roll beneath my feet as I start to walk briskly away.
"Robin, wait. I didn't mean-"
Chrom rises quickly from his seat, the alarm clear in his voice. He calls again but I ignore him, picking up speed. The logical side of my brain is telling me that I look more guilty then ever. The survivalist side wins, telling me to run.
The last ditch effort comes in a bold declaration from my companion that's meant to stop me in my tracks. The hard truth I don't want to face.
"Robin, it's the same mark on your coat!"
I stop, eyes closing in pain hearing it out loud. My face scrunches together and the acrid taste of denial sits heavy on my tongue. "You mean the purple one I probably picked up in a thrifty shop somewhere? Most likely a coincidence."
Leaves crunch under his footsteps as he takes two paces forward. "Is it?" he pushes. "Don't you find some things strange? "
"What are you implying?"
More steps. Closer and closer. "Robin, you have a brand. The only other one I'm aware of is my own and it belong to remarkable circumstances. Then there's the coat we find you in. And the kidnapping attempts. I can forgive one but the odds of you specifically being targeted in the midst of battle strikes an odd chord with me, map or not."
I bite down hard on my lip. I feel like I'm not only denying the words, but my existence. "I'm not a Plegian."
"I didn't say you were."
"You're thinking it," I accuse sharply. "Stop."
"Can't you even consider it for one moment?"
"Stop!"
God dammit! Please, just stop!
"Robin, you just...just..."
Chrom's voice falters. The seconds go by and I'm left wondering why he's gone so still. I crack an eye open.
We're facing each other, almost as close as we were before. I expect him to look angry or accusatory.
He doesn't.
I don't know how to describe Chrom's current emotion. It's a mixture of many. His eyes are crinkled in worry. His mouth is set in a grim line of disappointment, though I feel like it's not aimed toward me. He stands stiff as if ready to move away from me at the faintest peep I make. It's like he's flustered and upset all at once. Not with me. It's himself.
I realize I've drawn into myself. My hands are curled in tightly toward me. I've folded up like a flower. I look and feel afraid. He knows and he thinks it's because of him. It's not. I'm afraid of myself but he doesn't see that. Chrom thinks I'm frightened of him and it's proving his previous point from before.
He starts to speak, voice shaking in regrets. I won't let him.
"It's not you."
The words come out strong despite how weak I feel.
"It's me."
I force myself not to look away. The only thing giving me the strength to speak is the sight of him ironically.
"If there was something strange about me, my mother would have told me. Wouldn't she?" It's a childish question filled with adult fears.
Wouldn't she?
Chrom considers his words carefully. We're so close yet the void between seems infinite. "I couldn't say."
"She was always honest. Mom never lied to me."
"You did move. Far enough away from what you knew before. Perhaps she was taking you away?"
I move my head back and forth in denial. "She wanted to get away from her family. She had issues with her parents. Having a baby out of wedlock does that."
"Perhaps it has something to do with your father. You said she would never speak of him."
"She would have, if I asked. When I was old enough, she said she'd tell me if I was ever curious. From the way she spoke though, it caused her pain. If some ass put her through that much emotional stress, why would I even want to know about him. He never bothered finding out about me. He didn't care!"
Why does it all seem so strange now when put in the open. Is it only because I can't remember things all the way? If it returns can I grant myself the peace of knowing it was what I originally thought? I've gone so long without questioning things. Now I'm wondering about the validity of my own mother.
I hate this.
I'm fighting in a stupid war and here I am starting to crumble again. You're better than this Robin! Pull yourself together! Damn it all!
"Give me a moment," I grumble as I quickly turn away. If I press my eyes tight enough together, the wetness will stop.
Stupid human emotions. Who asked for these anyway.
"Robin."
I feel a light grasp on my left forearm followed by the other. Chrom guides me back around keeping me within arm's length. We're not in an embrace. He's doesn't let go but remains standing just shy of me. The speech he seems to have in mind chokes up in his throat. His grip tightens but he can't seem to get the words out. Chrom opts for silence as he watches helpless while I fight back the urge to break down.
I'm surprised myself by how comfortable I am with us like this. His presence alone gives me a sense of strength to endure the craziness around. I find myself letting my head fall, my forehead coming to a rest against his chest. The sound of our even breathing and the closeness of a fellow human being brings my nerves back down.
"I'm making this worse, aren't I?" he whispers sorrowfully down to me.
"No," I say with a little shake. "Forcing me to endure etiquette training with Frederick and Maribelle would make it worse."
A breathy chuckle slips out of him. "You're impossible."
The corners of my mouth upturn. Just a little. "Coping mechanism. I've got to survive somehow."
I exhale deeply through my nose, the situation still heavy but more bearable. "If anything, you did what had to be done. Maybe I needed this. Someone else to point out what I've been denying and to understand what it is that's weighing on me."
"You and I both. I had been dwelling so harshly on my own faults that it was affecting me more than I know," he wonders out loud. "This became a shared burden, so to speak. My fears for yours. A solid exchange."
"I've raised a lot of questions though, haven't I?"
"Perhaps, but you also answered others," Chrom replies. "The most important thing is you finally managed to trust me. I couldn't ask for anything more, as your captain or your friend."
I feel a blush coming on. "Yeah well...you know."
My fingers play nervously with the edge of my sleeve twisting it back and forth. "Are you concerned about what my past could have. I mean, if it would be easier for everyone, I could just...go or something."
I have no idea what I'm saying anymore. I just need to know where we go from here. The implications of other Robin's legacy are pretty damning and the fact that he knows about the potential for Plegian blood could cause controversy for him and the Shepherds in court.
"I'm concerned but not about you. It's more so for your safety. Whatever it may be, nothing changes about your place here. My Shepherds have all proven their worth and will always be a comrade no matter blood or background. And after your actions in battle helped save the lives of soldier and civilian alike, I have little fears about you as person. If you'll have it, I'll continue to offer my help in reclaiming whatever it is we can about your past and getting you..."
His line falters and comes off quieter than before. "...getting you home."
Guilt wells up and I raise my face to offer a confident smile. "That's a long time coming. I have a war to win for Ylisse. Remember?"
He returns the gesture and the flush deepens.
"Thank you," I manage out before looking away.
"I should be thanking you. You're the first to stop and ask how I was personally feeling. I didn't realize bad it was."
"Just take some time away from it, even for an hour. Give your stress a break. Eat a piece of cake or read a book. That works."
Hey, speaking of books! I still have his birthday present tucked away somewhere. I keep forgetting about it between all the meetings. I just haven't found a good time to give it to him. But seeing as we need a bit of a pick-me-up in terms of the mood...Why not?
I untangle from him and step back with a gesture to the doorway behind me. "I know this is sort of from nowhere but would come with me to my room?"
Chrom's surprised by the sudden request and watches me inquisitively. "For?"
I hear the Feroxi healer laughing in my head and I quickly push the naughty thoughts from my brain. Not what I meant at all!
"Just come with and you'll see. The mood needs a switch-up and I have just the thing."
My cajoling is successful and we wander through the now darkened evening toward the training grounds. Through there, we enter the Shepherd barracks and then the personal quarters. I open my door only to realize I haven't been dedicating time to tidying up with how busy I've been. I rush in mortified and start shoving things away.
Chrom hangs patiently in the doorway surveying the damage. "Your cleaning habits haven't improved."
"Sorry," I apologize while kicking some underthings under my bed before he can get an eyeful. "Just wait there."
I step over to my dresser and rifle through the top drawer. "Where did I put it?"
"Bobbette looks well," he comments toward the flourishing plant on my windowsill.
My precious child has been absorbing the natural nutrients of life and continues to grow strong. Her stem has grown several inches and the leaves remain rich and vibrant. I was surprised to find a bud beginning to grow in one of the top clusters.
I give her a fond peek and begin to gush. "Yeah, she's doing great. My baby will be big and strong before we know it. I'm so proud!"
My captain steps in and begins to take in the tiny accents that have accumulated in the months I've been here. He approaches my desk and lets his fingers run over the spines of the books resting a top it. "You've decorated a bit too."
That I did! Sumia and I finally got to that shop and I found some nice purple curtains to match the rainbow blanket she knitted me. I've picked up a lovely painting of a ocean-side port and rack filled with my own personal set of spices for cooking. The kitchen really doesn't like to share.
Chrom picks up a book and flips it open only to stare blankly before snapping it shut. He quickly reads the title out loud in disbelief. "The Saucy Adventures of Lady Nesbit?"
"Sumia recommended it," I comment while shoving aside shirts in the second drawer. I have no shame while speaking. "Delicious smut for the soul."
He drops it. "S-Sumia?"
"We're grown women, Chrom. We enjoy dirty literature as much as men do. It's usually just more flowery."
"Should I be checking Lissa's drawers as well?"
"Probably too late. She's been staring at Lon'qu's butt for months now. The corruption runs too deep."
"Wonderful."
My hand brushes the smooth package and I extract it triumphantly. "Here it is."
He nearly drops the gift when I thrust it at him. "Surprise! More like a super late surprise but that's beside the point."
He shifts the parcel around in his hands, eyeing the bright blue cloth around it before poking the shiny ribbon. "What is it?"
"It's a present. You all exchange birthday gifts, right? I missed yours with all the assassinating and blood flying around."
"A birthday gift? I..." The shock changes to confusion as he pushes it forward. "Why is wrapped like this?"
"Because that's what you do with gifts, right? Add a pretty bow and stuff?"
"No."
That's lame. They just throw the object in question at the birthday boy? Where's the fun in that?
"Ah. Cultural differences. Where I'm from, we wrap everything in as gaudy a paper as we can find."
I push it closer to him and nearly hop up and down in anticipation.
"Go on, open it. Feel the rush!"
You know what he does? He starts to open it with meticulous precision. Chrom's opening his present. Neatly. Who does that?
"No, that not how you do it! You're suppose to tear it wide open! Have fun! Where's the thrill of the surprise?"
"Alright?" The opening goes much better with utter destruction as the wrapping goes everywhere. He's eventually left with the contents unveiled.
"A book?"
"I was talking with both Sully and Vaike for ideas," I explain quickly. "They said you're a history nerd but you mostly know only local legends. Sully made particular mention of your interest in Chon'sin nature. When I took Lissa shopping the day the Grimleal snuck in, I picked this up at the bookshop by the corner of the square."
He thinks a moment then grows alarmed. "The one located next to the tailor? Robin, that's an import shop. They charge exorbitant fees for everything!"
"Well, yeah. But we haggled," I shrug.
"No one haggles with Monsieur Dupuis."
I cluck my tongue in disappointment. "I was a baker Chrom. I dealt with sales and people every day. I know how to talk shop when I have to."
Haggle we did, quite viciously. Lissa was in complete astonishment. The outcome wasn't a total sale though. I won't tell him it still cost me a month's pay. That man was one greedy mosquito.
He flips open the cover and starts thumbing through multiple pages in awe. "I'm not sure what to say."
"Don't say, look!" I scurry around to his side and flip to a story in the front about a hermit and a wise turtle in a lake. I notice the page is dog-eared up top and try to smooth it out.
"I may have read a few out of curiosity." I admit weakly. "But look! All watercolor!"
He stares in disbelief not saying anything. Man, I thought this was a good idea. Maybe it's the subject matter? I groan in defeat and step back. "I knew it. It sucks, doesn't it? I should have stuck with the one detailing with military campaigns in Regna Ferox."
"No! No, it's great. I'm just...surprised."
"You want surprised, you should have seen Ricken. I threw some cookies at him and the kid acted like he'd never seen one made of oatmeal before. Anyway, now you have a bit of distraction before reality's crushing grip takes a hold of you once more. Today got sort of deep so take a read when you have some time tonight to mellow out. And don't worry about thanking me. After our conversation today, it's the least I could do."
I start fidgeting and brush some hair behind my ear. "So, uh, yeah. You could do that. Unless you want to get serious again."
How do our conversations keep evolving into awkward pauses. We both keep reaching an emotional point and clam up unsure what to say further. Usually one of us can come up with something to say.
"I think we're both done with that conversation for now. I rather like the current mindset. A distraction wouldn't be unpleasant." Chrom flicks the bent corner of the current page. "I have time and given your current interest in the same subject matter, I wouldn't mind the company."
The request brings me far more joy than it should. I'm happy to oblige and make my way over to bring the desk chair to the bedside.
"Okay. Why not?"
"...and to help combat the creature, he found a pegasus to carry him to battle."
Chrom scratches his head, trying to wrap the idea around his brain. "Wait. So this Bellerophon tamed a true pegasus and rode him to battle. I just find that a bit farfetched. No man has ever been able to ride a pegasus on his own volition. The species as a whole has never accepted one."
I can't believe he wants me to argue about the validity of a myth. "Chrom, that's what the stories say. I'm not going to dispute something that allegedly happened centuries before my time."
"I suppose," he admits. "Do continue."
I settle back and continue the tale. "So anyway, the two go off to fight this monster. Upon arriving, he finds it to be a chimera. It's a pretty screwed up creature. Get this, it has the head of a lion, body of a goat, and tale of a snake. This thing has an extra goat head popping up from the back and breathes fire. I'm betting the butt's poisonous too."
My captain grows visibly more disturbed the more he pictures the creature in his mind. "Please tell me you've never encountered a creature like this yourself."
"Nah, pretty sure they're extinct."
"I pray that's the case. A manakete was horrifying enough."
"You aren't joking." A blur of color catches from the corner of my eye and I look toward it. I'm surprised to find my door is open. Not only that, someone's there behind it.
"Marth?"
Lucina lingers in the doorway. She looks great. You could barely tell she was once laced with bruises and cuts from our ordeal. Her typical strong aura is gone. In the doorway huddled just outside, she almost seems shy.
"Forgive me, I had no desire to interrupt the conversation," she projects from the hall. The princess steps in just enough to fill the frame.
I note that Chrom's eyeing her in a peculiar fashion. There's a moment of unsureness and hesitance that disappears under a swift swap of greeting when he notices us watching him. "Marth? Have you need of something?"
"Yes...Chrom." She clears her throat, sounding oddly out of place saying his name. Given the revelation of their relationship, he must have did away with formalities. "The Exalt wishes to speak with you."
"I see."
A strange staring match ensues that causes me to switch back and forth between them both. This is getting awkward.
"Well," I loudly intervene, "let's not to drag this family gathering on any longer. You should probably go with Marth. I'll leave this at a cliffhanger so you've got something to look forward to the next time we have a story exchange."
Chrom's strange mood dissipates and I'm rewarded with a bright smile that leaves me feeling like I've got a stomach full of hot cocoa.
"I suppose not. I should get to Emm if she needs me." Chrom stands and offers an apologetic glance. "We'll continue another time then?"
"Absolutely."
We share a long look before he brightens up and offers a bow befitting Virion's flair. "Very well, I will wait in anticipation with bated breath Lady Storyteller."
I roll my eyes.
He places the book under his arm and the humor fades to a kind fondness. "I...will see you tomorrow?"
"Unfortunately," I joke.
Gods, he really has a gorgeous smile. "Later then."
"Tell Emmeryn I miss seeing her," I call out as he exits the room.
Instead of immediately following, Lucina lingers to watch him from behind.
"Something up?" I ask the girl in concern.
Lucina gets a wistful look of longing that doesn't leave when she turns to me. "What he just did, I haven't seem him do in so long."
"That is?"
"He hasn't smiled like that since..." She breaks off and hides her face behind her hand. She scrambles away but manages out one final utterance before disappearing as well.
"Thank you."
I get up and head for the open door, my hand closing around the handle. Did she just thank me for bringing up his spirits? That's such an odd thing to think but it makes me happy to hear. I lean out and catch the last of their silhouettes move around the far hall.
Everyone deserves a little happiness today. I hope Emmeryn finds some as well.
The thoughts slide away when I turn back to my bed. There's something there that wasn't before.
"What the heck?"
I approach the covers and stand over the little parcel nestled on top of them. It's a leaf. Okay, more than that. The green piece of foliage is actually two large leaves carefully creased around each other. A simple string of purple thread is tied over the top.
Is this a...present? Chrom said they don't wrap gifts here. So why...?
I get on the bed and lean out the open window. The courtyard is bare except for some late night sparring occurring way on the other side of the space. Not enough time for anyone to run over and back in the time I was turned.
Curious, I slip back in and sit cross-legged on my bed. I pull hesitantly at the bow. The fiber is strong like what a cape or protective coat would be made of. It comes undone and the tip of the topmost leaf pops up. Pulling the rest back, it tears and falls open around the thin item inside it.
A beautifully painted card is unveiled. The lone woman on it stands in darkness with a single beam of light around her. Her purple bob sits around a pale, round face and sad eyes. Her look is both regretful yet persevering. The woman's small frame is dwarfed in her silver armor and the heavy blue coat over her arms. The design is fairly reminiscent to the coat I currently wear. The difference is the lack of detailing on the arms. There's also tassels on the shoulders and military cords denoting her a person of rank.
She's wearing a grandmaster garb.
Looking down at the scroll bordering the bottom of the picture frame, I read the name out loud.
"Katarina."
This is an Einherjar. Robin's alleged ancestress according to the original Marth. An assassin who defected to the Altean's side for the loyalty of her comrades. She reformed her ways and became a tactician and devoted ally in his cause.
I turn the card between my fingers a few times, searching the materiel for the dormant magic deep within it. It's there, a faint spark of something ancient.
The string is still in my hand and the leaves a mess on the windowsill. Someone made me a gift. They wrapped it, just like I explained earlier. They were here listening. And they left me this?
But this is an Einherjar. Isn't the only one who knows about this Lucina? Could she have left it? No, she was with Emmeryn. So who else-
I pull my own tome out and flick the edge of Marth's card. "You mean the Einherjar? How do you know about them?"
Marc giggles even harder and points at Echo. "He hid a couple of them from you. He liked the pictures even though you wanted them destroyed. What a nerd."
"S-shut up! Now I'm in deep trouble once our Lady remembers. She wanted them all burned and now she knows I willingly hid some!"
"Marc? Echo?"
The answer goes unreplied.
"Are you there?"
I lean out the window once more wondering if I'll hear a giggle or word. Nothing. Whoever dropped this off, they're gone now.
I pull the shutter shut and latch it closed for the night. The card stays in my hand well until sleep takes me, my dreams swirling with the questions of the future and my place in the scheme of it all. What's my past? More importantly what's going to become of my legacy as the new Robin?
A/N: Lore chapter. Lots of history, parallels, and ramifications of past events. I enjoyed the subtle contrasts I played between both characters. It's been interesting bouncing their personalities off each other. There's a lot of subtext here so hopefully it helps put some things into perspective. I could go on for hours about what I did here but no one came for an essay on literary devices. Happy hunting.
Also...fluffy things? Excuse me as I sweat profusely but I have no idea how I did. It's suppose to be the very, very beginnings of something brewing between them but romance is just not my thing. I sincerely hope I did you guys some justice in what you've wanted. It's the least I could do for all the support given. The comments from last chapter were extraordinary and I learned a lot.
So, um, bon voyage?
Review Responses:
Raidene312 – Intense is too light a word for the fight. Insane is better. My fingers must have fallen off and been reglued on several times. Thankfully I planned it all out ahead of time. As for the kids, yeah tough luck on their part. Grima's not meant to be kind or a sissy in this story. What life they led is a direct result of that, unfortunately. As for the genocide, there's plans. Or maybe not. Who know? Only the villain themselves know. Saw your story updated and I'll be around to review soon!
Kai'kel the Fereldan Magister – The new villains are getting a lot of positive feedback and I'm relieved about it. There's always a gamble adding original characters to preexisting material so I tried to craft them beyond the usual stereotype fodder. From my own standpoint, Pravitus is a favorite simply because I like his back story the best. The fact everyone hates him so much is music to me. It means I made him the perfect amount of deplorable.
The irony of rule 34 and Chapter 34 was not intended but I'm amused and horrified at the same time. I love coincidences. As for Henry, I think I've found a way. Hopefully soon...
Erika Elencia – On a humorous note, Robin discovering she has the potential for having twins will probably make her faint. Two at once? Ouch. Realistically though, I think it will depend on the circumstances. I can guarantee some heartbreak on her behalf regardless. Their situation is too sad to ignore.
PrincessArien – Thank you! It was a satisfying win for me as an author. I enjoyed beating "Pervitas" up. It was a gratifying experience. Should an author enjoy messing up one of their own characters so much though? Ha ha.
Hikari – Thank you! The support is appreciated. I was honestly nervous about the chapter and everyone's advice truly helped calm them. I hope you continue to enjoy future updates!
Writer-Supreme – Thanks. I slept very well after that. I binged the last seven thousand words and all the editing creating a very tired and hungry me by the end of it. It was worth it though! Don't know if I'll try that much again, but no regrets!
TheGiantRock – That is wonderful news. I tried planning and arranging the whole ordeal a little different than usual (tabletop game mechanics no less) and it seems to have worked very well! I did use a bit of influence from RPG boss fights to set the mood. Nothing like a good dragon bout to top a good battle!
It's a relief to hear that Grima's crew is doing so well the more they appear. I've been immersed in manga/games/books for so long that I wanted to get away from the common villain tropes. The whole group was made with lore appropriate back stories and deep ties to each other/Grima to fit. I wanted to avoid the filler bad guy role as much as possible. They're all very much joined to elements in the Fire Emblem universe and Akaneia's past. Heck, even their names were picked to fit their elements. Point being, I spent way too much time on them. Their evilness fuels me.
So yes, there should hopefully be some deep complexities that bring up more about Grima and their motivations. The intent was to delve further into the mystery of Awakening's protagonist. I just went way out to left field and never came back.
LovelyThorn – Well, what a coincidence because there was a lot more of that in this chapter than I think several combined. I wasn't expecting it but it happened nonetheless. Hope it satiated your feels :) And thumbs up for Caeda! I always did like her design and strength of spirit. I'm glad she's in SMTxFE. A huge plus for me.
FicReader – Hey, thanks for dropping in. I appreciate hearing from all the readers, even once. I'm even more appreciative on the comments toward the action. I've been doing my research and trying to implement it faithfully. Ancient war strategy is more exciting than I thought. There were some very creative and out there tactics. I'm very interested in possibly using an in-universe version of Greek fire in a specific battle. So many ideas!
When the Moon Met the Sun – Isn't it nice when answers are found, especially with how many there are? Actually, there's two villains controlling Risen. The invisi-Risen, as one reader aptly named, in Regna Ferox were under the influence of the fourth member. He'll appear sometime soon I wager. Ha, and yes I've gotten the comparison more than ever. Papa Risen appeared shortly before the SMTxFE reveal so the timing is sort of funny. Everything is unintentional.
I'll address Robin dwelling on her relationship with the twins eventually. After 30,000 words and other revelations taking priority, I just didn't have the space or time to fit it. That's one of the downfalls of plotting and planning. Finding the perfect placement for all your points is hard. Sorry if it seems illogical on her part. It's not the character's fault but the author's I'm afraid.
As for the mystery, that's what I try to do in most chapters. The tips are extremely fine but once they build together, the picture becomes a bit clearer. This chapter had some more obvious references as well as quieter ones given this was heavy with lore. I should hopefully have made some things more clear, or should I say doubtful, about the truth in this world.
timewastin – Grima's minions do play a very large part in things. Actually, in the previous chapter, Robin makes a note that the enemy is using tactics two of the advisers have used previously against her. The manaketes detest working with the Grimleal but it's the only way they can get any reach weak as they are in their borrowed bodies.
I wouldn't say you need knowledge of past games to understand what's happening later on. I understand some people probably never did and most everything I wrote is based off Awakening's lore anyway. Since Grima is largely unknown and a newcomer to FE lore, the background material I have created is mostly all original. That being said, the theme of gray morality is one I'm fond of so your thoughts may be right. When is history ever so clear that it's simply black and white?
As for Robin herself, good eye. Her subtle progress as a warrior and tactician was something I tried to convey. She's no where near Chrom's level but she's smart, can last longer in a fight, and makes craftier decisions. Our gal is finally growing up.
fwumpbump – Robin's all spunk and spirit. If she stops snarking, you know we're in trouble, ha! Her mental fortitude is probably her greatest strength though. Everyone copes differently and finding levity in the situation is how she deals. It's also entertaining for myself and other readers ;) As for our resident dorks and their current relationship, do tell if I'm still doing it right. Their dynamics are so complex and the spine of the story. If it breaks even a little, the story does too. Anyway, thanks again for the lovely comments on all the content so far.
ArcherShirou – Yes it was, for both characters and the author! It was tons of fun to create however. Just...a lot of work!
fareyinabottle – Your review was lovely, thank you! I'm all about immersion and bringing the world of one of my favorite game series to life. If I can get others to appreciate it just as much as I, my job is done. I appreciate the effort for the review and will continue to provide action and humor, especially like the ending XD
The Night Gaunt – Glad you liked the chapter even after the long wait. I can't apologize enough. Working food service means long, erratic hours some days. Bleh. On to the story stuff, that is a great comparison. Hellboy is a rad character and the predicament is similar. Two characters with a strong sense of humor giving a metaphorical middle finger to prophecy. I like it.
Hm, you probably weren't too keen for this chapter then. It's...probably more likely than not that's where it's going. I ran an unofficial tally of sorts since one of the early chapters and the pairing got an overwhelming yay over anyone else. Last chapter sort of nailed the coffin shut in terms of the other reviewers' comments. Sorry if it's a disappointment for you. I understand where you're coming from having been in the situation myself before. I'd like everyone to be happy if I could. I just hope the other parts of the story make up for it. Regardless, I still appreciate all reviewing thus far.
Titan127 – I'm on a roll with the referencing. Card Captor Sakura first, Yu-Gi-Oh this time. What's next I wonder?
Ha, smokebombs? Ninja Pravitus is something I can't unsee now. He did sort of fly off in Interlude 2 so it's funny everyone is like 'OMG manakete?' All's well though. That fight is going to ground him for some time after the hell he went through. I think the true hero there is the Feroxi who got close enough to hack off the tip of his tail! And I liked Robin's little prediction of Chrom's arrival too. It's a play on the cliché of most fantasy movies. Nothing like a surprise dragon to ruin your heroic display of bravery. Heh!
Crazycatwin – Your poor iPod! Wow, my bad. I should learn when to stop writing for the sake of all technological viewing devices!
That's a refreshing opinion of my writing style, thank you. I try to keep it flowing as if the story is being seen intimately through Robin's eyes. Less on the poetic, stylized detachment of describing a scene. It's more about feeling and what catches her interest most that develops the picture as opposed to the hard facts. Uh, hope that makes sense. Either way, thanks!
Catz1112 – Thanks! I am proud. I just got nervous because I never went that in-depth before. No worries though! And woo, no grammar errors! Finally! I skimmed several times and hopefully caught it all. It's always nice to have the twins back as well. I miss having them around. Creepy they may be but they're still charming in their own way!
hot poteito – Marc and Echo are indeed back, cute and disturbing as ever! Considering we know who they are, their back story seems like it could be even more tragic. Suffice to say, growing up with Grima puts you through a lot. Poor kids think it's all normal too. I left a somewhat obvious hint of PapaRisen's identity already but it requires a bit of realization to catch it. I originally changed it because I thought it was too obvious. Maybe not! If you think you found it, don't be afraid to say so! I love when reviewers are all "I see what you did there!"
Forgetful Dreamer – Thanks! The reception has been overwhelming and I'm all smiles myself! Everyone comments have been steering me in the right direction so I have all the reviewers to thank for pointing out where I can improve and what I'm doing right.
It's interesting how well Robin and the twins get along apart from having no blood connections. I suppose no matter if you're from another world or not, some things don't change. Having a similar wavelength is a perfect description of the three.
faolae – Myself and most of the other reviewers can't either. I should print and mount that exchange for my wall so I'll never forget the depths of shipping hell I reached that day. But yes, feels and actions everywhere! I'm glad to serve! And now with this chapter out of the way, I can go contemplate where I went wrong while the rest of you celebrate. How did the romance get so big...
Cyberchao X – Gah, sorry. I know a few were disappointed it didn't happen either. Time constraints, blame the author! I'll try to fix that soon. And yes, lots of symbolism a play last chapter and a fair amount in this one. Makes for interesting thoughts to ponder on, doesn't it?
King Keith – Pravitus as a closet otaku pining for Robin-senpai. Someone needs to make this happen. Actually, all I can think about is a high school AU involving the cast. I'm laughing way too hard now.
There are definitely other Einherjar and more than just Akaneian ones. I'd say the Elibe lords have a good chance of appearing. I'm fond of all three (y u no marry me Hector?) and Lyn's new battle design is smashing. Sacred Stones was my first game in the series so I'd like to slip in someone from there too if I can.
The ending is exactly that. She is the embodiment of everyone here. I think 95% of the people here ship it so...who am I argue? I really don't mind in the end who she ends up with. I'm flexible. And Clarent as Clare? It sounds so cute now! I'd probably get murdered by certain parties for saying that.
Animeseris – Long reviews are wonderful, never fear. I read every word.
Ships are a funny thing because there are so many options! It's hard to choose but I hope you like who ends up together in the end. I'm curious myself with Stahl and Sumia. I have a good idea where to go with them though.
Theory time! I love theories! They're all good. Very good. Marth's comment and everything about that dream are big clues. Whether or not you interpreted them right isn't something I can comment on, but the fact that you noticed them is on the right path.
Robin as a mankete is pretty funny when you think about it though. She just randomly touches a dragonstone and poof! Dragon form activated! Hilarity ensues. Either way, I loved the posts and the thought put into the back story makes me smile. It's great when people catch on the clues and speculate. Thank you!
A Shadow's Lament – I mentioned it before but the lack of realization is all authoring issues. I ran out of drive and room to do that many revelations after so many words. I understand it's not a glaring issue but I felt the need to explain myself. Sorry about that!
Given the content last chapter, I figured there'd be some swooning going about. Shadow, your name popped up in my head with a few others when I was typing Chrom's introduction. I feel kind of bad breaking the romantic set-up by having Robin rescue herself. Hopefully this chapter helped? I'm squinting and hoping this feels like the beginning of something different for them both. Last chapter was supposed to be the eye-opener and this one was the first real mentions of legit chemistry. I'm crossing my fingers I did alright here...
Victory3114 – Oh, good theory. It's got a solid backing. Lucina did indeed say that and it could account for where Robin went. You never know! And thanks, Robin's quirky character hasn't failed yet!
Tri – Hello and welcome! You left a marvelous review. Thank you!
I do try to bring as much justice as I can to everyone. The hints of their depth are hidden in the support conversations and the richness of the world thanks to past games makes the setting full of opportunities. It just takes a little time to pull them out and plan. The key thing is understanding just how each character will react to events. That will set up your chain reaction and make way for other scenes to appear down the line. It is easy to forget the magic of things when all you do is level grind and reset when units die. I'm just bringing the magic back.
Funny thing about who's holding what Einherjar right now. Symbolism or coincidence?
nreyj – As long as I'm physically able, I don't have any plans to abandon this fic. My hobby passion burns with the power of a thousand sons. At my lowest I update once a month so don't lose hope! Anyway, glad you enjoyed the chapter. I'll keep rocking them out!
OCDingshutin – Hey welcome back. Got the old account back as well, cool!
I think it's great everyone is so attached to the twins. Trying to inspire that same feeling for these two like the readers may have had for their own game version was what I hoped. Despite everything, they still are the kids we've grown to love. I scream internally every time I have them appear. "Save the precious babies!"
Robin did display growth and it's great you noticed. She'll still lapse to rookie mistakes but the strength in her fortitude and magical endurance is noticeable. She did a great job by herself handling things! As long as she keeps her eyes peeled for that Thoron, she will indeed one day fly!
More ships and Henry hopefully soon. The opportunities are all starting to appear!
– Ooo, thanks for the insight! Any advice on romance is actually very valuable right now so lay it on whenever. If the pacing ever does feel too jerky or situations not right, let me know. Romance is not my most developed point so I'm on the route of discovery right now. Same goes for the mystery! Balancing the divulgence of too little information and too much is rough. I adjust accordingly but it's good to know the plot is still sneaky. By all mean, reread again! You'll never know what you might pick up a second time.
Overlord Valkryie – THE HYPE IS REAL XD
Couldn't help myself, sorry. But yeah, Grima should have had more of anything! The Grimleal were cool and all but they never did anything for the dragon as an antagonist. All they did was worship the image of their supposed god. Having subordinates gives opportunity for learning about Grima's past and what they were when alive. I agree with you. I figured there had to be some sort of motivation behind all their desires. There's so much history between Grima, the Exalted line, and Naga that it can't just be simple. Lost opportunities I tell you!
I'm actually surprised everyone wants a specific person to be the twins' father. When the trio was first introduced, the subtext didn't paint their father's predicament as being healthy or loving. Marc's statement should be questionable. But who know what's the truth and what's not anymore? :)
Well, glad you liked the fight. All the Fire Emblem goodness right there, that's what I hoped for. And in the future, I'll get in other Shepherds as soon as I can. The current arc should see the arrival of some more familiar faces. Can't wait.
Pixelsaber – Hand me some eye drops as well. I probably need them after staring at the text for so long.
Yeah, the kids aren't at their best. If you think it's okay to be chucked out a window more than once and still want to die for said person, your ideals are a bit skewed. In reality, I think the ones who are really broken is them. For the battle, glad you enjoyed it. I was aiming for a true Fire Emblem battle experience and that means you need your main characters front and center. Yep, too bad on the villains though. It'd be a shame to give a taste of what's to come and then vanquish them that easily. Dramatic build-up!
sailingships – Great username. I've been aboard many sailing ships in multiple fandoms if we're referencing the literary kind. Good times, good times. Now as a welcome for binge reading this monstrous behemoth of a story, here is your official internet cookie for sitting through almost 500,000 words. And take my hearty thanks for the lovely compliments. Gush away, I'll return the favor and endeavor to keep writing worthy chapters :)
