Title: Robcina Week 2025 Day 1 - Birthday

Description: Robin cannot shake his anxiety. The first child of two of his closest friends is about to be born and all he can do is pace outside. Maybe some fresh air will help calm his nerves, he thinks, unaware doing so will lead to a meeting unlooked for.

Notes: Takes place during the two year timeskip in Awakening

Words: 3721

Robin paced anxiously, his footsteps echoing through the empty castle halls. It was late in the evening of April 19th, even now rapidly approaching midnight.

He stopped, gazing at the door behind which they were the only ones still awake. As neither a healer nor direct family member, he had opted to wait outside for now, even though Chrom had wanted him to be present. Chrom always did treat him as family. Still, it seemed wrong for him to intrude on such a personal moment, so Robin had opted for this half measure of being nearby the offer his support.

Besides, he was still worried. After all, the child of two of his closest friends was about to be born.

Minutes ticked by as he continued to pace with no word coming from inside. Soon, those minutes turned to perhaps an hour, maybe more, and still nothing. With each second that passed, his worry grew, until soon it felt as though his hammering heart would surely burst.

Robin came to an abrupt halt, nearly tripping over himself as the part of him that made the conscious command to do so struggled against the subconscious desire to continue his anxious pacing. Steadying himself against the wall, he forced himself to take a few slow, purposeful breaths in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

Relax, it's going to be fine. Lissa and Mariabelle are both excellent healers, and there weren't any complications with the pregnancy. Sumia will be fine, Robin told himself, continuing his breathing. Yet his heart continued to pound in his chest, despite his efforts to calm it. It was no use. He was simply too worried, both for Sumia as a friend and anxious on Chrom's behalf.

Worrying will do you no good. You know that, Robin tried to tell himself. He realized then he'd held the last breath, his lungs starting to sting. He exhaled with a sigh and a gasp, giving up the slow breathing technique. He started to turn back to resume pacing, but then thought better of it. Instead, he made his way towards the nearest exit to the palace, thinking he'd walk through the gardens that lay between it and the outer walls of the castle. Some fresh air would do him good, and maybe serve as a better antidote for his worrying.

Soon enough, Robin stepped out into the cool night air. The moon hung in a sliver just above the horizon, the night air chill on a spring breeze. It was just past midnight now, the very start of April the 20th. Robin breathed deeply of the brisk air, already feeling a bit less tense. Still, the nervous energy remained unabated, so he didn't stop there. Making his way down the steps, he began to walk through the ring of greenery between the palace and the walls. A loop or two around the whole thing should suffice, he thought to himself.

As he walked through the greenery, he found his memories drawn back to a similar night some two years before. It was the night in which Plegian agents had attempted to assassinate both Chrom and Emmeryn, and would have proven successful had they not been warned by "Marth", or whomever the woman using the Hero-King's name truly was. That had been the last time they'd encountered her directly as well, though Robin had sworn he'd glimpsed her during the fighting in their attempt to rescue Emmeryn from Gangrel.

Robin shook his head, banishing the thought. That was a memory he'd rather not relive. Letting himself drift back to that earlier night, he couldn't help but wonder where "Marth" was now. He still didn't quite understand how she knew the things she knew, or where she had even come from. Yet, despite knowing nothing about her, she had saved them twice. That was enough to consider her a friend.

Just as the thought began to form, he buried it just as quickly as it had come. That was not worth thinking about, especially given there was no guarantee he'd ever see her again.

At least this is giving you something else to think about rather than worrying about the birth of Chrom's and Sumia's child. That's a plus, huh? a part of him chided. Robin promptly told that part of himself to shut up.

Rounding a corner, Robin started down the straight back, only to freeze as he caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette against the palace wall. He whirled, hand going to the hilt of his sword, another grasping the tome tucked into his coat pocket. Then the half uttered spell falling away from his lips as he found himself staring at the very woman who'd been the subject of his thoughts.

"Marth" too appeared startled, her own hand going to the hilt of the sword that appeared to be a mere identical match to Falchion. No, an identical match, he realized, for the first time getting a good look at it himself.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both with hands hovering above the hilts of their weapons, eyes locked. Then, at once, the tension left them, hands falling back down to his side.

"Robin," said the woman, her gaze not leaving his own. For a moment, Robin thought he saw something resembling suspicion in that look, but it vanished before he could get a proper read on it. Assuming it hadn't just been his imagination.

"Marth," Robin greeted in kind. Another moment passed in silence, an awkward pause that felt like an eternity even though it couldn't have been more than a second or two. He cleared his throat. "Fancy meeting you here."

Oh gods Robin, you idiot. "Fancy meeting you here"?! What are you, a character in one of those romance books Sumia likes? How lame can you be?, his inner voice mocked. Again, Robin told himself to shut up.

"I…" The blank stare "Marth" gave him did nothing to make the situation less awkward. Quite the opposite, in fact. The exact opposite, in fact!

So Robin did what he always did in awkward situations: babble like an utter fool and dug himself ever deeper into the proverbial hole he found himself in. Truly, a masterful gambit worthy of his title of tactician.

"How long has it been? Two years? I mean, it's been so long, and I'm surprised you're here. Last time was…" He trailed off, a thought occurring to him. "Wait, please tell me something horrible isn't about to happen. The last thing I need tonight is another assassination attempt. I don't know if I can survive any more stress."

"What?! No, it's nothing like that, I was just here to..." the woman exclaimed, only to abruptly trail off. Almost as if catching herself on something she would rather not say. "It's not important, believe me. Least nothing perilous to be concerned of. Let us leave it at that."

Robin opened his mouth, his first instinct being the question her further. One didn't lurk outside a royal palace in the dead of night for no reason, after all. But he thought better of it. Mysterious as "Marth" was, he trusted her. He owed her that much for all the help she'd given him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I'm certain whatever reason you have, there's a good reason for it to be a secret."

"I-" for a moment, she seemed shocked, as if having fully expected him to question her further. Even when she relaxed, she looked as though she'd been caught wrong-footed. Almost guilty, even. "Thank you, appreciate the consideration. I do wish I could return your trust in me in kind, but…"

"It's important that you can't tell me anything. I understand," he finished for her. Turning away, Robin wandered a few steps away towards where the path split, the slope of the hillside necessitating a terraced layout of the gardens. He sat down, letting his feet dangle off the stone cobblestone wall that separated the upper and lower levels.

"Sorry for startling you before. And for nearly attacking you. I'm just a bit… on edge, tonight," he explained.

"Why is that?" asked "Marth". She approached his spot, coming to stand just behind and next to him.

"Just worried about Sumia and Chrom. Their child is due soon, and I'm nervous about it. I know it'll be fine, but… I tend to worry," he explained. He sighed, shaking his head. "But I suppose you knew that already. Can't think of another reason you'd be here on this particular night. Not that I I can parse the particulars of why it's important." He glanced back at her, a small, anxious smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that. Bad habit of mine; thinking out loud."

He glanced back at her, seeing her neutral expression. If his line of thinking concerned her at all, she was doing a good job of not showing it.

"That said…" Robin added, taking her lack of protest as at least tacit approval for him to continue, "I still wonder how you knew exactly where to be and what to do to avert disaster both times you saved us. You wouldn't happen to be able to see the future, would you? From what I am aware, it's not an unheard of power to exist, but one that is extremely rare, as to have only appeared in a handful of individuals from throughout history."

"Marth" did not answer for several moments, her expression pensive now. She seemed to consider something before replying, speaking slowly. "While you are not… quite… that close to the mark, you are not entirely far off either. I am sorry, that is all I can say on the matter."

"I see…" Robin said, losing himself in thought. So it's not prophecy, or future sight then, but something related? Mind reading? Some sort of pattern based prediction method? Something else related to time?

This gave him something to think about and ponder later. Emphasis on the later part. He was certain it would be rude to pry further on the subject, and abandoning the conversation to his internal musings would be little better.

"But back to the matter of tonight, I guess worrying about things is another tendency of mine, especially when it comes to my friends. A bad one at that, at least when it comes to worrying about things I have no control over," Robin told her, steering the conversation back to the original subject.

For a moment, "Marth" stared at him thoughtfully, expression inscrutable. "Being worried about your loved ones, even unnecessary as it may be, is a commendable trait. It's a tendency I believe the two of us share."

"Is it? Are there many people you worry about?" Robin asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, though it has been many years since I've seen any of them. A great source of my worry." She gave him a look, almost apologetic. As if she wanted to say more, but could not.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that," Robin said. He frowned, trying to imagine what he would do were he separated from all of his friends, especially if it were against his will. He knew for certain he'd be beset by worry. "I hope you find them again soon."

"As do I." For a moment, she stood there, staring at him. Then, slowly, she moved to sit down on the ledge next to him. Not too close, for her moments were purposeful as she picked a spot just a bit too far for what one would expect for two people having a casual conversation. Robin wondered at her caution. Was she still wary of him for some reason? Or was it, as he realized, to ensure her face was still partially obscured in the darkness?

Maybe that's it. She did wear a mask the first few times they'd met, at least until it was broken. Maybe there was some detail about her features she didn't want him to see.

For a moment, Robin almost considered mentioning that he had her mask, maybe return it to her, or at least ask what she wanted to do with it. He'd nearly forgotten he'd had it, having collected the broken pieces after the fight on a whim more than anything. He'd been thinking of getting it repaired, but at this point was more than likely buried somewhere among his belongings.

He got as far as starting to speak before something stopped him. No, not something, he knew exactly what it was. The reason was embarrassment, for if "Marth" had cared about the broken mask, she would have retrieved the pieces herself. He was the one being oddly sentimental here, and for the belonging of a woman he barely knew. This was probably the longest interaction he'd ever had with her, and the only one without others involved.

"Do you have any idea where your friends could be?" Robin asked, shoving those thoughts aside. Maybe this was something he could help with.

"Marth" shook her head. "No, I am afraid not. We got… separated. Two years ago, not long before I first encountered all of you. I have spent some time since then searching, but… I fear I don't have any idea where to truly start looking."

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry. That must be hard, then. I can see why you must be beset with worry," Robin said.

"That I am," the woman agreed, her voice tinged with sadness.

"I'm sorry," he told her, genuinely so for the difficulty of her predicament.

"No, it's alright. You have nothing to apologize for," she said, giving her head another small shake. She paused, then added almost as an afterthought. "I do appreciate your sympathy.".

Robin looked away, feeling guilty that there wasn't more he could do than simply offer condolences. He breathed out, letting out the frustration with the breath. There was realistically nothing he could do, not right now at least.

"So, April 20th, huh," he said, looking up at the sky.

He heard "Marth" move, and when he looked, he saw that she was now regarding him with a confused stare. Almost appeared tense as she did so, so he could not fathom why.

"Sorry, I was speaking aloud again. I meant that, since it looks like that's the day Chrom's and Sumia's child is born, I'll need to mark the day on my calendar. I need to remember, after all, if I'm going to get gifts every year."

"May I ask, do you often give gifts on birthdays, or is this a special case?" she asked, the tension leaving her at his answer.

"No, nothing special. I already pick out gifts for all of my friends on their birthdays. Can't see why I wouldn't do so for each of the children. Chrom and Sumia are just the first to have one."

"I see," she said. For a moment, he thought he saw a smile tug at her otherwise stoic visage, one both wistful and melancholy. "I'm sure that child will appreciate it when they grow older."

"I suppose so," Robin agreed.

"So what about you, do the Shepherds return the favor on your birthday?"

"Well, no. I have no idea when my birthday is," Robin told her. He didn't know why he brought it up, at least not in that manner. Unusually, when approaching the topic of his past, he tended to be far less frank than that. It was an awkward subject, one he didn't find appealing to discuss.

So why so open about it now? Robin wondered. Perhaps it was simply due to "Marth" volunteering some information about herself in regards to her missing friends that he felt he owed her the same openness in kind.

"Marth's" expression seemed almost perplexed at this statement. It wasn't shock, or simple confusion, but rather something more like what he said didn't make sense. "Really? How is it that you don't know when it is? Did your parents never tell you?"

"Probably. But I can't remember my parents, let alone anything they told me," Robin admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "The first memory I have is Chrom and Lissa finding me in a field near Southtown. I can't recall anything of my life before that."

Yet I still possess all the skills and abilities I apparently learned prior, Robin mused. Nothing about where they came from or how. Quite the enigma, you are.

"Marth" said something in response, but so softly while Robin was somewhat distracted by his internal thoughts that he failed to make it out. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, shaking his head. "I apologize, I zoned out there for a moment. My past is quite the puzzle to consider, even for myself."

"I said 'I was sorry to hear that'," the woman repeated..

This gave Robin pause. It sounded about right, following the same cadence as what she said. But… there was something about how quickly she said it now, almost defensively.

No, perhaps she hadn't repeated herself. Had she said something more akin to 'I'm sorry, I never knew that'?

Again, a somewhat awkward silence fell between them. Not wanting to end their conversation so soon, Robin continued. At least, after he again silenced his inner voice's mocking remark. He didn't need his motivation for wanting to continue to talk with her questioned, especially not from himself.

"Now, it's not to say I've never celebrated my birthday. We've used the day Chrom found me as a stand-in, so I guess I've technically celebrated that twice now. Just, well, it's probably nowhere near my actual birthday. Unless that day happened to be a remarkable coincidence there. Or unlucky, considering that'd mean I lost my memory on my birthday," Robin said, perhaps rambling a bit more than he'd have liked. A fact that caused him to ramble more.

Thank the gods it's dark. Otherwise, my embarrassment would be pretty unmistakable.

'Ah, worried about making a fool of yourself in front of your-' started the inner voice.

Shut it, he snapped back, cutting off the thought.

"That seems reasonable. I am glad to hear you found a stand," "Marth" remarked. She sighed, her posture slumping almost imperceptibly. "It's been some time since I celebrated my birthday."

"Oh, when was it?"

"It's to-" she started to answer, only to catch herself on that, quickly adding, "that is to say, quite recent. I shall leave it at that."

"Oh, in that case, I wish you a happy birthday then. Belatedly, I suppose. But still, not sure how much it matters coming from me," Robin told her. Though even as he said it, a part of him began to wonder what she'd been about to say. And why exactly was that date important enough to hide?

"Near enough that the timing is unimportant," she said, her tone lightening as she accompied the word with a sound that was almost a chuckle. "And thank you, Robin. I appreciate the consideration of wishing me one. That means a lot, I assure you."

"Heh, don't mention it," Robin answered. He again thanked the darkness, for he was absolutely certain he was blushing. "So, do you have any birthday wishes? I know I don't have any birthday candles for you to blow out, but I'm sure-"

His rambling was cut short as, distantly, the crying of a newborn child could be heard from within the castle. Which could only mean one thing.

"It seems like Lord Chrom's and Lady Sumia's child has been born," said "Marth". Hoisting herself upright, she brushed herself off before turning to regard him. "I am sorry, I suppose your presence will soon be required. After all, Chrom does regard you as family, from what I've seen." She began to turn away, only to pause, glancing back even as Robin hurried to stand himself.

"I appreciate having talked with you. It's been a long while since I've had such an opportunity. Thank you," she told him, her voice utterly sincere without even a hint of the guarded wariness that usually clung to her every word. She bowed her head, then, spinning on her heels, shot off into the night.

"Wait, I-" Robin started to say. It was too late. She was already gone.

I didn't get to thank her as well. Robin sighed. He wondered when he'd get the chance. Or even when he'd next see her.

She was right, though. I'm sure Chrom will want me to see my new 'honorary niece or nephew' soon enough, Robin mused, recalling how Chrom had described it. So, with his anxiety mostly lifted, a fact in no small part thanks to their chat, he turned away. He started forward, pausing ever so briefly to spare a lingering glance in the way "Marth" had gone, before heading back inside.

. . . . .

Ducking around the outside wall, the blue haired woman at last came to a stop, satisfied that she wasn't being followed. Not that she suspected she would be; despite her suspicions of him, given what she knew of what was to come, her father's friend seemed the honest sort. At least, at this time.

Leaning against the wall, bracing her arm on it, she glanced back at the castle and to the newborn girl somewhere inside.

"Happy birthday, Lucina," she whispered, the words directed both at her and her younger self. She felt her eyes begin to moisten, the next words only for the child. For if she could have any birthday wish, it would be not for herself, but for her had just begun.

"I wish for you a happy future. One full of love and peace, and free from all the hardship that I have faced. You deserve a better future, one I could never have."

She smiled, feeling a single tear run down her cheek. She brushed it away before turning to face the doubt and darkness beyond. She couldn't spare the time to further celebrate the birthday of either version of herself. There was still much that had to be done. Not if she wanted that wish to become a reality.

I will not fail you. I promise. Your future will be a happy one. Then she slipped away, preparing for what was to come.