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Chapter Text

Emmeryn was dead, and Chrom had fallen silent.

At first he had been angry and bitter, but after he had calmed down the whole journey to Regna Ferox was spent deep in thought on his part, not uttering one word even as Lissa clung to him, eyes empty and without their usual shine, as if she had no more tears to shed for a lifetime. They were both shells of their formers selves. It was as if a part of their souls had been ripped away from them in the most cruel manner. It was a loss neither of them deserved, and it was one Robin regretted ever letting happen. Neither outright blamed her, but it was her strategy failing (Risen risen risen, why could they just be summoned from some ungodly place to wreak havoc upon their plane of existence? The world had rules you had to obey!) that had led to the Exalt and her most trusted guards' deaths, and it was a fact that laid heavy on her heart.

She did not deserve kindness for her failure. In fact she would have preferred shouting and accusations to kind words (it's not your fault, you're not perfect, maybe it was destiny), given to her as if she was the one in grieving. And perhaps she was. A little. She grieved for the people of Ylisse, and what she had taken away from them. She grieved for the people dear to her she had robbed of their beloved sister.

After their arrival and the words of encouragement by their allies and friends their leader did seem better, if only slightly. Robin saw that he still had an edge to him, and he walked like a broken man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She had tried her best too, but she had nothing to offer except apologies. She could not even meet his eyes.

Robin considered herself Chrom's friend, and all she could do was think of her own guilt. He had given her a purpose when she didn't have one, a life, new memories to replace the ones she had forgotten, and all she could say was sorry? How pathetic.

And because of that she strengthened her resolve, and set off to find him at his quarters. Almost everyone else would have to settle for camp, but that was to be expected as they weren't here just to visit. They were at war. However, holiday of not, not even the people of Ferox left royalty unattended, and that left Chrom (and Lissa) with a room of his own, no matter how much he protested.

It was the same room he had stayed in the last time they were here, and it was easy enough to find. She awkwardly stood in the hallway for a while, more anxious then ever at the thought of seeing Chrom alone. If he did turn her down at the door that was fine, but she had to at least try. She owed this to herself and Chrom. 

Servants walking past her sealed the deal, as she would've seemed even more foolish for not knocking and just walking away after contemplating the door for such a long time, and now with witnesses having seen her.

“Chrom? May I come in?” she called, softer than she intended. It made her seem indecisive, or pitying. However, he did not answer his door and after several minutes Robin grew somewhat worried. What if he had fallen asleep in the bath? Or on the floor? Or what if an assassin had gotten to him and he was bleeding on the floor unconscious? Or maybe he had punched a hole in the wall and now his hand was stuck in it?

She couldn't just leave him alone, so she opened the door at her own initiative. She had seen Chrom's naked backside already (and due to his damn timing he had seen her as well, seen everything, but she'd rather not remember that), she could handle more skin if it meant saving his life if need be.

However, the room was empty. A bit taken aback, she entered nonetheless, closing the door behind her. Robin was sure she had picked the right room, and there on the bedside were parts of Chrom's armor, and his gloves. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, though, so she decided to wait. They'd wait for each other in their own tents sometimes, and she was sure the same could be applied to this situation. And she'd leave if Chrom didn't show up soon.

The room was a simple guest room, with only the grand bed and lit fireplace to decorate it, the most striking part of it being the high ceiling, and she had to say that she preferred Ylissean architecture over the Ferox variant any day. It was mostly practical, if you didn't count the carvings of warriors past and some giant weaponry as decoration, but the castle in Ylisse was just prettier, she supposed. Ylisstol too. Maybe it was the nature there. The Ferox Arena they had fought in was one of the most breathtaking things she had seen, true, but she was sure that that particular building outdated this whole nation.

Still, the warm fire was very nice. Even if Chrom was not here, she would overstay her welcome if just to keep warm for a while. Going from Plegian deserts to the much colder climate of Ferox had been a shock to her. She felt like she'd never even seen snow in her previous life, and she much preferred warm weather over it.

She did not dare sit on the bed so she chose the floor instead, and kept the fire alive while waiting. Just as the warmth had reached her bones the door opened, and it was indeed Chrom who walked inside.

“Hello, Chrom, I'm so sorry -” Robin started, but the words seemed to get caught in her throat. At first he did not seem to notice her, but due to the light brought to the room from the fire Robin saw a glassy shine in his eyes. Oh gods, he was about to cry. He caught himself before he did though, clearing his throat.

“Robin.” he said, a bit dazed, his voice not shaking the least. “I was just visiting Lissa. What brings you here?”

Lissa. Of course.

“Oh, I...” She tried to find her bearing again, but her tongue failed her. No matter how many times she had gone over her speech in her head, she could not say it now. She had been so rude to him, without realizing. What was she even doing here? This was a private matter, to be settled among siblings, not a lord and his tactician. They had not even known each other for a full year. Was she this daft due to her own lack of family? Once again she had only thought of herself. She got up from her spot on the floor hastily, and ashamed by her behavior, was unable to meet his eyes. “I can leave. If you want me to.”

Chrom seemed to contemplate the option, but shook his head. “No. Stay, please. I... I could use a friend.”

This encouraged Robin, but also confused her. She had been sure Chrom would push her away. He closed the door and walked over to his bed, and in an ungraceful manner he dropped to sit on it, so that the whole bed was moved by the force. Robin awkwardly stood there, not really knowing what to do.

“I thought, that maybe if you wanted to talk, I could lend you my ear. Or my shoulder.” she managed to say, leaving “to cry on” unsaid, to leave a semblance of his pride intact, and Chrom smiled at her, but it was not his usual smile. It was weary and weak, one that broke her heart. He patted the covers next to him.

“Come, sit.”

And she did, still keeping a polite distance between them, but somehow it still felt more intimate than any moments of nudity they had encountered in each other's company. The bed seemed to slant towards Chrom, and she found herself closer to him than she would've perhaps liked. For some reason the heat of his shoulder next to her's was just as hot as the fire had been before.

Neither of them said anything for what felt like the longest time. Chrom gazed into the fire, distant, and Robin followed suit. It was Chrom who finally broke the silence.

“Emm... Emmeryn used to come to my room whenever I was upset. She always wanted to talk things over, and she'd pry every little detail out of me. So that I wouldn't be left to fume about it, I suppose, or act rashly. When I was younger it used to drive me insane, to be mothered like that by my own sister. Now though? I'm sure I'll miss it.”

His eyes glazed over again, but this time he did nothing to stop it.

“I have never felt this powerless. This angry yet empty at the same time. There is a ache in my heart that won't go away, and I want to scream, but I can't. I... Just now, with Lissa, I felt like nothing I could say would mend her, make her whole again. I am not strong enough for her. And I know I won't be able to walk upon Ylissean soil until Emm has been avenged, and that is exactly what she wouldn't have wanted, this mad war I'm going to lead, just in her name. She would think me a fool. You must think me one already.” He buried his face in his hands, and breathed in and out shakily, as if it would stop any tears from spilling over.

And Robin couldn't help herself anymore. Propriety be damned, she threw her arms around Chrom and hugged him tightly, and without hesitation he hugged back like it was all he had wanted to do ever since he walked into the room. He buried his face in her shoulder, the wetness of his tears more apparent this way, but she didn't mind. It was better for him to hide his face so that he could not see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes as well.

“You are no fool. Gangrel must pay for what he's done, for the sake of his own people and ours. He is the fool here, and if we let him walk away after what he has done we may be better people for it, but war does not call for better people. If we don't end this now it's our people who will suffer from it in the end, when Plegia eventually invades. You are no fool.” she said with a quivering voice (she had wanted to sound stronger but damn was it hard), and Chrom's arms around her tightened.

They stayed like this for a while, the only sounds in the room the crackling of the fire and their quiet breathing, as they both tried to calm themselves.

However, the moment was over, as Robin's back was starting to ache from the awkward way she had twisted herself for the hug, and she was sure she was needed at the camp (and she didn't need to arouse any suspicions about her and the prince of all people). So carefully she detached herself from Chrom, and he slid his arms off from around her as well. They looked at each other and he laughed a little, probably mostly due to the embarrassment caused by the whole situation. Robin did too, because he looked ridiculous with his red poofy eyes, runny nose and messed up hair, still wearing his handsome smile and she just... She just wanted to kiss his sorrows away.

And at that moment her heart stopped.

Never had she thought of Chrom like this before. It was insane, and she needed to stop before she broke her own heart, or worse, destroyed the friendship they had. This was her commander, and surely he had a fiancée or a ladylove somewhere, being as handsome and as royal as he was. Hell, he had women at the camp all over him. Sumia and Cordelia were both much better candidates than her. Not to mention Maribelle, who was noble in the first case. And she had seen how he looked at women like Olivia, whom they had just met for crying out loud. Even Sully with her admittedly brutish ways was still beautiful and a knight of Ylisse.

It was just that... Tacticians with no past did not kiss future exalts. They did not even think about it, because it made no damn sense. She needed to think about this, alone, in her tent, before their march back to Plegia. Gods, this was not a feeling she had wanted to discover tonight, and not one she wanted to battle with while fighting actual, real enemies.

So weakly she smiled back, face redder than Chrom's no doubt, trying to hide the turmoil inside her head the best she could.

“It's late. I should probably let you sleep. Wouldn't want you looking like what you look like during tomorrows strategy meeting.” she joked, and to her relief Chrom laughed again, wiping his face into his arm.

“Indeed. Although you should wash your face before you leave, unless you want to look like what you look like arriving at the camp.” he said, although Robin could not tell if he was teasing her about her previous comment or if he was serious. She was only red, wasn't she? She hadn't actually cried, right? Oh how she wished for a mirror.

“I think I'll brave the odds, thank you very much.”

And with that she got up, and made her way to the door, wiping her face for good measure. Just before she could open it she turned around, to bid her goodbyes face to face, no matter how seemingly awful they both looked and how much she wished to just escape. Chrom was still smiling at her, so that was positive.

“Goodnight, milord.” she said, and earned herself another laugh, which in turn made her heart skip a beat. Had it always done this around him? She wasn't too sure anymore.

“Sleep well, milady.” he replied in kind, mirth finally in his red, red eyes. “We will do what's best for our country, I'm sure of it. Thank you, Robin. For listening.”

And with those words in mind she left, not sure if her guilt had been relieved of not. She'd have to find out later. Right now what mattered though was that Chrom was acting more like his old self again, and she had brought a smile to his lips.

Now if only she could stop thinking about said lips and focus on a winning strategy, everything would be perfect.

After Robin had left, and her footsteps were only an echo going down the hallway, Chrom finally let himself lay down on the bed proper.

He felt like his life was spiraling out of control. His heart was a mess, one that could not be fixed over night. Crying had certainly helped, but sorrow was the least of his problems right now. How was he to face any army this way?

Gods, was he a fool. Robin hadn't left a moment too soon, as her embrace was one that made him want to melt into her and never surface to the world ever again. There were much more pressing matters at hand to worry about, but right now, all he could think of was her. He didn't know if it was torment or bliss, but at least now death was not the first thing in his mind. 

He tore his shoes off and not caring that he still had the rest of his clothes on he decided to turn in for the night (just like Robin had suggested, she always cared for him like this, gods, he was thinking about her again, he needed to stop, Frederick did this too and that he found irritating). Maybe that would bring his sanity back.

Tomorrow he would be proper and strong again, knowing that he was only human, having wept in the arms of the woman he loved the evening prior. Tomorrow.

He let his mind wander though, as his consciousness gave way for sleep. Our country, huh? He had to admit, he did like the sound of that...

Chapter Text

Robin felt like that her life was slowly but surely heading towards ruin. 

The march back to Ylisse seemed to be longer than ever before, and not being a knight meant that most of the time she walked. Sure, she rode on carts whenever she could and sometimes Sully let her travel behind her on her horse, but most of her journey was spent on foot. Maybe it was due to the fact they were returning home after their campaign had finally finished with Gangrel's death and Plegia's surrender, Robin did not know, but advancement was agonizingly slow as well. It would be weeks before they'd reach Ylisstol, according to Frederick (we cannot march faster in the desert, Robin), and that fact made her want to weep.

Their final battle had not ended too well for her. Now she knew never to underestimate any man's will to live. Gangrel had been vicious until the bitter end, and if she had been a second too late in her casting, she would've been carried back to Ylisse in a coffin. If they could be bothered to carry a woman without family back to the country that wasn't even probably where she came from anyway. But truly, even if her arm was a little sore now, she had Lissa to thank for her life. Without her quick healing she wouldn't be here now.

Although maybe death would be preferable to this endless torment. Because along with the day upon days of walking, she had other problems to deal with. Like the fact that one of the newest members of the Shepherds seemed to be stalking her. But that was only a minor nuisance compared to the blight that was the polar opposite of what was happening with Tharja.

Chrom was avoiding her. There was no going around it. Robin had tried to explain away his behavior as him being just busy, but every time he even caught a glimpse of her he came up with excuses and ran away. It was frustrating and she had no idea what she had done to upset him so. He was rightfully disappointed that they had not been able to recover Emmeryn's body, yes, but that had nothing to do with her, she hoped. Was he embarrassed about her near defeat by Gangrel? Or that she had been the one to strike the final blow? That couldn't possibly be it, Chrom would never be that shallow.

There was only one thing that could make him flee at the sight of her. Maybe he had found about to her infatuation with him, and did not wish to even meet her eyes after that, finding the mere thought of her in a romantic manner revolting. But why would he notice hers? Cordelia and Sumia were both particularly open about their devotion to him, just about falling over themselves to win his affections. One more literally than the other, perhaps, but still. Chrom was very much oblivious to romance, so why would he notice if her gaze lingered on him a little too long, or how much she enjoyed his company? It was simply not fair.

Whatever it was the whole debacle was slowly tearing Robin apart, and Chrom's less that subtle techniques of evasion were drawing way too much attention their way. Soon people would start asking questions, questions she'd rather not answer.

She had to solve this problem here and now, before the pressure would become too much for her to bear and cause her to run away into the the night like a deserter. She had to nip it at it's bud, and the bud happened to be Chrom.

So she devised a cunningly simple plan, which involved two steps. Step one: trap Chrom alone into a private space, like his tent. Step two: force the truth out of him, no matter what it may be.

Step one proved to be somewhat difficult to commit, since Chrom made himself very busy, and he always surrounded himself with people (though that was the norm). She also had to worry about Tharja following her, even after she had told her to stop, several times. She did not see her so often anymore, but who knew, dark mages had their ways to remain unseen. Then again, she was following Chrom like a shadow as well, so it seemed really hypocritical of her to dislike Tharja's habit. Maybe she should've asked her for tips instead?

She had no need for that, however, as opportunity came to her sooner than expected. One evening when Chrom was retiring for the night Robin saw her chance and seized her maps and followed him to his tent.

“Chrom! May I join you?” she called out to him, and he visibly tensed. Robin pretended it did not hurt her to see him like this, and steeled her resolve.

“R-Robin?” he asked, voice an octave higher than usually. “What is it that you wish of me?”

“I'd wish to discuss tomorrow's routes with you, the ones you drew.” she said, and did not give him space to argue. She walked over to the crates lain out in his tent as a makeshift table, just for discussing strategy, and spread the map of their current location out in front of him. They were right at the Plegian border. Just a few days and they'd reach Ylisse. “Instead of going this way I was thinking of going around the hills here, and...”

But Chrom wasn't listening. She caught him staring at her in a manner that could only be called intense, and she felt like he had not heard a single word she had said. However something about his eyes caught her off guard. She had never seen him look at herself or anyone else that way before. When he realized that he'd been spotted his cheeks turned red, and he began to fidget around. She knew what would happen next all too well. It was his dance of “I need to be somewhere that's not here”.

“Oh, I think I can hear, uh, Virion calling to me. I must -”

“Please, Chrom, we both know you are not needed elsewhere.” There was a sharpness in her voice that surprised even herself, but she did not feel like remedying the situation. She had had enough.

“Uh, I. Well...Yes. No?”

“What repels you from my company this strongly? Lately you always make up excuses and hide away from me when I seek you. Have I done something to upset you?”

She was getting more and more upset, and she felt her eyes sting. She had promised herself that she would not cry, yet here she was, at the edge of tears. Love was truly foolish.

“No Robin, I simply...”

“Then why do you refuse to speak with me? Even stay in the same space as me? Walk next to me?”

Her first tears fell, and Chrom was by her side, taking her hands into his. But this time it was Robin who refused to meet his eyes. This was just the thing she had wanted to avoid when talking to Chrom. This was such an underhanded tactic, now she'd never get the truth out of him.

“Robin, Robin, please look at me.” When she didn't, Chrom hesitantly took hold of her by the chin and gently nudged her to face him, wiping a tear away with his thumb. The act of kindness just made her heart ache more, and her tears fell even faster. “Robin, I am sorry. The last thing I intended was to cause you pain like this. I just...”

“Just what?” she asked, a bitter little chuckle escaping her lips, and she met Chrom's eyes, more decisive that ever. “Need some time? To collect you thoughts? To come up with the best answer? If you dislike me then tell me so, and do not cruelly lead me on like this! Don't tell me I'm your friend then push me away!”

Chrom looked shocked by this.

“No, Robin. Gods, nothing could not be farther from the truth.”

And suddenly, Robin's world made even less sense, as she began to piece the puzzle together. What in Naga's name was going on here?

“...What are you trying to say?” she asked, more quietly than before, unsure. Chrom let go on her face, and took a deep breath. He was visibly shaken as well, his face still red and eyes searching hers for something, anything. Her expression did not waver though.

“Are you truly making me say it, right now?”

“Now or never Chrom. I need you to explain yourself.”

“Then I'm going to say it. I should've said this earlier, but I guess... I was just afraid.”

But he did not utter a word, not immediately. He let go of the hand he had still been holding, and took a step back. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply, as if he was bracing himself for a blow, and he finally spoke to her what he had been trying to conceal.

“I'm in love with you, Robin.”

And the relief Robin felt utterly shattered her. She began to laugh and cry at the same time, and Chrom must've thought her insane, because he came closer again, and seized her by the shoulders to make any kind of contact with her, not sure what to do, and began apologizing profoundly. (He was more gentle with the arm that had been lacerated by Gangrel, how could he have remembered that if he didn't care for her? It all seemed so obvious now.) 

“Gods, Robin, I am so sorry. I kept avoiding you because, if you haven't noticed, just being around you makes me act like a complete fool. I have no idea how to behave myself around you anymore. You drive me mad, Robin, but I am at fault here. I'm sorry, I should not have tried to hide these feelings, I should've tried something else than avoid you. Seeing you cry like this was truly awful, knowing I was the cause of it makes it worse.”

This was the most absurd situation Robin had ever found herself in, including waking up in a field with no memories to the faces of royalty who called themselves shepherds.

“No no, Chrom. No. Stop.” And he ceased everything he was doing, including breathing. He was also looking more and more discouraged by her bizarre behavior, but finally she was able to stop her foolish tears. She wiped her face into her sleeve and tried to bring it back to a neutral expression, but that provided to be an impossible task. Her smile would not die on her lips.

“You stupid, stupid man.” she began, and brought her hands to rest over his ears lightly, fingers burying themselves into his hair (now he definitely wasn't breathing). Their eyes locked, and she knew she had his full attention. She shook his head a little, just because she could, and continued. “Do you have any idea how much of a fool you've been? What gives you the right to hide like a child? I've been battling with the same feelings as you yet you'd never see me running off at the sight of you.”

At first Chrom looked ashamed, and it seemed like he was turning completely blue. Or purple. It was hard to know with all the blushing. It took a while for the meaning of her words to sink in, but when they did, he gasped.

“Then you...?”

Robin laughed.

“I love you too, yes. Even though you're maybe the biggest dolt in this whole camp, I love you.”

And Chrom smiled so brilliantly it made her smile widen as well, and he lifted her in the air and spun her around and he laughed and laughed.

“Truly? You truly do?” he asked, and Robin could not help but laugh with him. She had to grip him by the shoulders for fear of falling though.

“Yes yes yes! Now put me down and be quiet!”

And he did, leaving them to stand in a loose embrace, both just smiling at each other. Robin felt like she should've scolded Chrom more, because how pigheaded did you have to be to do what he did, but what was in the past was in the past.

Instead she, in her foolish euphoria pulled Chrom down and without a moments hesitation kissed him on the corner of his mouth. He looked surprised at first, but smiled shyly, looking truly glad for the first time in what seemed to be forever.

They stood close to each other for a while, and Robin wondered if it would be appropriate to kiss him fully on on the lips yet. Perhaps not now. She cleared her throat, and carefully slid her arms off of his shoulders.

“We really do need to look over our route.”

Chrom nodded in agreement, and soon they were at work, although neither could stop smiling, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the little contact they had. 

Steps one and two had indeed been very successful. She was just very glad she hadn't had to execute step three: running away to Ferox after Chrom's rejection and becoming either of the Khan's tactician. After all, now she knew for certain she much preferred to remain with this ruler.

Chapter Text

And so Chrom and Robin's dilemma was solved, and everything returned to normal. Well, seemingly normal. Robin was pretty sure Tharja was still following her around but hiding it better, and now Chrom and her were acting just like they did before. In front of everybody else, that was. If you did count the occasional eye contact and the blushing and smiling that followed as normal.

Robin liked to think they had them all fooled, but it was definitely suspicious, and you'd have to be as dense as, well, as dense as Chrom not to notice the sudden change in their relationship. Who went from being brothers (siblings?) in arms to barely talking to being joined by the hip? No one questioned them though. Maybe they thought that whatever fight they'd had had passed, and they were the best of friends again?

Robin for one was glad no one had voiced their disapproval. Although Maribelle did make a snide comment about her not being fit for a king, that was probably her just jesting. She was such a serious person that you never really knew with her. Even Frederick had not said anything, and she was quite sure he'd be the first to notice if someone was flirting with his lord. Not that she did that. Too much at least. 

If they did kiss and explore each others skin a bit under the guise of having a strategy meeting, well, it was only their own business. With all the sneaking around and hurried, hungry touches it truly felt like they were partners in crime. Or necking young teenagers with no control over themselves. Either one suited them. Robin could count the hours they spent apart during the day on one hand.

Time flew, and once they reached Ylisstol, Chrom had to attend to the duties of an Exalt, and their time together diminished. Though he had won over the hearts of the people with his swift and victorious campaign, he still had a court to impress, and a funeral to plan. He however granted her a room of her own in the palace, close to his she noted. Lissa seemed to be glad about her moving into the castle, and Robin saw a lot more of her. She quickly became a subject of Lissa's childish pranks, which, although sometimes they were rude enough to make her mad, made them closer to each other, so much so that she sometimes countered them with her own.

Emmeryn's funeral was a quiet affair. Her funeral pyre burned without her, and everyone could agree it was not the end the kind and peaceful Exalt had deserved.

Robin, feeling herself useless without a war to win, started to integrate herself into court business. Finances still had to be planned, as Ylisstol had suffered from the small scale Plegian attack that had led to Emmeryn's capture, and their war funds had diminished as well. Though rebuilding was minimal, new guards had to be employed to the service of the people. And there was by no means peace. There was still the threat of Risen and brigands, who hoped to exploit the weakened state of their army, and the Shepherds helped a lot, by patrolling the countryside and following reports of attacks. Even Chrom led some of these small scale campaigns, busy as he was.

He did grow increasingly restless, and Robin could see that something was weighing him down. He'd laugh it off when asked about it, but Robin was sure this new position was getting to him.

All was well in the Halidom.

For how long was the question that needed answering.

Chapter Text

Chrom was a nervous wreck.

Today was supposed to be perfect, but Robin had run off to deal with some duties for the Shepherds, even when they had clearly spoken about this day being a free day for both of them, the weather had turned sour and it had rained all day long and the kitchen had mysteriously run out of veal, when she adored game! Not only that but Lissa had found out about what he was going to do and teased him relentlessly about it, and Frederick had dropped a pile of unexpected paperwork on his table to sign, meaning he had been unable to go look for his tactician as well.

When he heard nothing of Robin by the end of dinner time (what was served was rabbit, as it was the next best gamey thing they could find), he pretended to retire to his quarters, but secretly he snuck into Robin's room. He would wait for her here, then.

Robin's room was one of the best rooms in their castle (he had made sure of that), with a reading table, small bookcase, a vanity and a grand bed. The walls were adorned with paintings of what he thought had to be Ylissean landscape, and there were delicate wood carvings that decorated the columns along the walls. Chrom noted, however, that the only thing of her own that Robin had added to the space were books scattered about, along with maps.

She really had not settled in this room, and Chrom didn't know if he should take it as a good sign, or a bad one.

He gripped the ring in his hand tightly. It was already warm from the heat of his hand. How he was going to propose to her now, he did not know. He had planned for everything, and as all that had failed he was at a loss of what to do. He had wanted to give her something romantic, as all she had experienced so far was war and then the messy state his country was in, yet here he was, intruding upon her room without her consent. Then again, she did it all the time as well, so perhaps this was just a little bit of retaliation from his part.

Instead of over thinking everything he decided to do something else to occupy himself, so he settled himself on the reading table and grabbed one of Robin's books, and tried to read it. It was about strategy (what else) and written in a quite boring and dry manner. It reminded him of his teachers when he had been younger. How Robin read these all the time, he did not know. He had seen Sumia try to give her reading material with more entertainment value, but so far nothing had truly caught her interest, except what else, a book on some sort of Wyvern Wars. It seemed strategy was in her blood.

He stared at the words, trying to form sentences in his head, but they became blurrier and blurrier, and soon Chrom found himself asleep on the book he'd been trying to read.

What awoke him was a gentle caress. He cracked his eyes open, to see who was the one who had disturbed his light slumber, even though he knew who she was before even opening his eyes.

“Oh, I didn't mean to wake you.” Robin whispered. She was crouched in front of the table, and her hand was in his hair, petting him. She was an absolute mess, wet all over, but she had no visible injuries, which pleased him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, neglecting to get up for a while, as Robin's hand was nice and cool, and hers was a welcome touch.

He clearly was more exhausted than he had thought. That and he had missed her. Dearly.

“Robin, I needed to speak with you.” he said, and she laughed.

“I can see that. Can I at least get changed first? I'm afraid it's getting really cold.” she said, and got up. She took off her robes, and hung them from her bed post. Chrom noted how she was already barefoot, her boots nowhere to be seen. She must've left them outside to prevent them from soiling her room, since they were bound to be muddy from top to bottom. She always thought ahead like this. She went for her belt next, and Chrom stood up quickly, suddenly feeling bashful. How daft was he? She had said she was getting changed!

“Of course. I shall... Wait outside.”

He began to walk out, but Robin grabbed him by his collar and pulled him back to her side.

“It's no use for you to leave. You've seen everything there is to see here anyway.” She laughed again, and Chrom did too, more embarrassed than glad by this turn of events, and reminder.

“Must you always mention that? I've already apologized for it a hundred times.”

Robin tossed her belt aside, and Chrom turned around, suddenly very interested in a painting depicting grassy hills. Very nice shades of green. Very nice hills. Truly, this was art worthy of his palace.

“Does the very thought of my naked body torment you so?” Robin asked, adding a dramatic flare to her voice, trying to sound upset, but her stifled giggles ruined the effect. “If so, you should apologize a hundred times more!”

Chrom spluttered in response, and she laughed, tossing her wet pants into his back without any warning, startling him. They landed on the floor with a wet smack, and really, what was wrong with her? She was teasing him! Goading him into turning around! That minx!

Torment was the right word. He heard the shuffling of clothes, and the image of her bathing form was in his mind again, and the softness of her skin a ghost on his fingertips.

He reached into his pocket, to feel the ring again to remind himself of his purpose here tonight, but found nothing. Where had he put it? Gods, was it still on the table? He allowed himself a glance and yes, there it was. Robin could see it at any moment! His element of surprise would be ruined!

He inched towards the table, but Robin was done with getting decent faster than he had anticipated.

“You can turn around now, fleshy bits are hidden away.”

He dared to believe her and he turned around. She was sitting in front of her vanity indeed dressed in her nightgown, brushing her wet hair. Upon closer inspection her cheeks looked flushed, and that made Chrom wonder. Well, everything about Robin's loose behavior tonight had rung alarm bells in his head, but this was particularly discriminating.

“Robin, are you... Drunk?” he asked, and she giggled, eyes full of mirth. Oh gods. This was turning out to be one fine evening. His romantic endeavors always had to be spoiled by something, didn't they?

“Mayhaps I am, mayhaps I amn't.” she answered, and that settled it.

“Then where were you for the whole day? I thought you had gone to battle Risen?”

He knew he was going to regret asking this question, for the answer was going to be something devastatingly embarrassing. Robin did not get drunk easily and she never got drunk alone, and if she was like this, there were undoubtedly copious amounts of alcohol involved.

“Well, yes, I was supposed to check on a reported incident of Risen in a nearby forest, and only Gregor, Maribelle, Sumia, Sully and, uh, Kellam were available. We went there, and there were no signs of any life around, undead or otherwise and it started to rain so we were forced to return to the barracks. We met Olivia and Vaike there, and apparently she'd been crying over silly things such as moonbeams or something.”

By now Chrom had gotten to the table, and the ring was once again safely hidden from Robin's line of sight and in his pocket. However she was done with brushing her hair, and she walked over to her bed and sat down, and motioned for him to sit besides her. He did, and immediately she bumped into him in a playful manner, but stayed to lean on him, her head on his shoulder.

“So, Gregor obviously wanted to cheer her up, and he pulled out his stash of alcohol from Regna Ferox, which got Olivia exited, and Sully and Vaike were all over that stuff as well. Of course Gregor wanted payment from them, and the situation had to be resolved with more ale from the storage. I didn't know we had that much of this stuff! I did not buy it, and I don't have a recollection of getting any orders of it. It's bizarre, and I think some of the men are behind it... Anyway. Soon there was a drinking contest, and for an unimaginable reason they wanted me to join in as well.”

“You can hold your liquor well.”

“I can.” she said, sounding proud that he would have recognized such a strength of character from her part. “But so can Sully and Gregor. And Maribelle, gods, she isn't as much of a lady she pretends to be, I think your court of nobles are all secretly drinking each other under the table for practice because oh boy. Vaike and Sumia were out for the count after a couple of rounds, you can tease him about that if you want to later, it was quite a pathetic display.”

Chrom was shocked.

“Maribelle? And Sumia? Drinking?” He wouldn't be able to look at them from weeks without thinking of them drunken and disorderly. Vaike's situation, however, pleased him. He liked to talk big, but even a lady such as Maribelle had outdrank him. Served him right.

“Yes! They couldn't even make it out of the barracks on their own. Pretty sure there's gonna be rumors about them later. They were singing and dancing when we left, trying to impress Olivia, and Maribelle wanted to see Lissa, but don't worry, we didn't let her do that. She also kept treating everyone like peasant, well, more that usual that is.”

“We?” There had better not be a bunch of passed out people behind the door. That was where he was drawing the line.

“Me and Sully and Olivia. The others we left where they, well, passed out. Olivia promised to take care of the ladies though, and I came here.”

Now Chrom's eyes bulged. “Olivia? You don't mean to tell me she was part of your insane competition as well?”

And Robin started laughing, and she hid her face in his neck, her hair falling on him, cold and wet. Not that he minded, but still.

“She won the whole thing. Sully we forced to retire when it was apparent she was half passed out and getting agressive, and Gregor, he just couldn't beat a maiden from Ferox. I'd like to see how the Khans drink. Olivia was pretty slurred too though, and she kept describing everything in poetic fashion and crying, so I don't think we were really good at cheering her up.”

“And you?”

The question made her somber. This was the part he was most afraid of. She detached herself from him, and took a thoughtful pose.

“I know how to pick my battles. I had to do a tactical retreat, mostly to keep my dignity intact. Not a move I'm proud of, but it had to be done. Could've probably beaten at least Sully if I had really tried, though. But it would've done you no good to have your chief tactician lie passed out in the barracks tonight, no?”

Oh thank the gods for Robin being Robin. Chrom sighed in relief, and slipped off the bed, to crouch in front of her. She looked confused, but she waited patiently for him to say his piece.

“As proud of you as I am, can you promise me one thing?” he asked, laying his hands on her knees. She rested her hands on his, and nodded. “What is it that you would have me promise?”

He took her hands into his, brought both of them to his lips.

“That tomorrow you'll be all mine for the day.”

This was for the best. Right now Robin would probably jump out of the window if he asked her to, so asking her for her hand in marriage was surely an ill advised thing to do.

However, recognition found it's way into Robin's eyes.

“Oh no Chrom, was today your free day?” she asked, guiltily, squeezing his hands. Chrom shook his head.

“Not as free as I would've hoped, as Frederick found me. I don't think I've even done as much paperwork as I did today, but they're all off tomorrow's load.” he chuckled, but Robin remained serious.

“Chrom, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to be here with you, yet I spent the whole day merrymaking like some child.”

Chrom smiled, trying to reassure Robin.

“You have other people than me who desire your company, I realize that. All is forgiven, just as long as you promise that tomorrow is reserved for us, and us alone.” he said and Robin sighed.

“What I've done to deserve your patience, I'll never know. Any day is yours, you need but ask. And apparently remind me too.” she said, and Chrom laughed at the quip.

“Then I shall be the first one to greet you in the morning.”

Robin laughed too, but it was more shy. She then withdrew her hands from his, bringing them to his face instead, and leaned in to press her lips against his. It was a short kiss, tasting slightly bitter, and it left a trail of longing in its wake. So when she pulled away Chrom leaned in again to get a kiss of his own, and that too was short but sweet.

She looked at him, her hunger open in her eyes, hands traveling down from his face to his shoulders to his chest, inviting him to kiss her again, but Chrom got up instead. She was drunk, he reminded himself. She wasn't usually this open with her affections.

“I think we need to retire for the night.” he said, and with a pout Robin gave up and nodded in agreement. She walked him to the door, although it wasn't a long way, and sent him off with a kiss on his forehead, and a whisper in his ear. “'Till tomorrow, my love.”

They bid each other their good nights, and when Chrom reached his quarters, he could not help but be proud of himself. It had gone better than expected, this whole affair, and for once he was not the fool who blundered everything.

Tomorrow the rain would cease and the sun would shine again, and he'd get his dignified proposal.

Nothing could ruin tomorrow. Nothing. Even if he had to run his sword through said nothing to make it happen.

Chapter Text

It was well past noon and Frederick simply could not find his lord anywhere.

The gardens, all the bedrooms in the castle, servants quarters, dungeons, it seemed like he was nowhere to be found at the castle. And he had checked everywhere. Even all his childhood hiding places, the ones he was too big to fit into now, like the small spaces under the bookcases in the library, or the chests or cupboards in the hallways.

When he had gone to the Shepherds barracks all he had found was Vaike and Gregor passed out around and on the table, with more bottles around them than two men could possibly drink. However as he was about to wake them and give them a harsh lecture on work environment and what was proper there and what was not Kellam had appeared out of nowhere, as usual, and explained that he would take care of them, as he himself seemed busy. Which he was and continued to be, as Kellam had no clue on Chrom's whereabouts either.

It was as if he had disappeared, as no one had seen him for the longest time either. He had asked around, and only received some unhelpful if not bizarre answers.

The kitchen staff had told him that Chrom had come by in the wee hours of morning to have a hearty early breakfast and taken it away with him (Gauis, who had also coincidentally found his way into the castle's kitchen and was for some reason merrily baking pies with the ladies there had said that Chrom had taken a bite out of an unpeeled orange in his thoughts, which seemed likely but also somewhat disconcerting), but nothing more, and none of the guards had seen him leave the castle through the main gates. Frederick had inquired after Chrom from Lissa, and well...

“What? You seriously can't find Chrom?” Lissa had asked him, all the while trying to keep a straight face. It had seemed like she was in one of her more mischievous moods once again.

“Milord has his duties to fulfill milady. This is no laughing matter.”

“Come on, don't you remember the talk we had about taking a break once in a while? That also applies to Chrom. You've been working him like he's some sort of royal stamp machine! Signing papers here and there, he barely has time to read everything you present to him. It was supposed to be his free day yesterday you know!”

“I've never intended to...”

“Besides, isn't it someone else's job to present official documents to him? Like, I dunno, Robin? Have you asked her where Chrom is?”

“Well, no, I haven't seen her either, I'm afraid, but I believe she mentioned something about going out to hunt Risen yesterday, and I'm not sure she has returned.”

Lissa had actually burst out laughing at that.

“So you're saying both Chrom and Robin are gone?” she had asked once she had managed to stop laughing. “Oh my gosh, Frederick. If you don't get it then I'm sorry, but I can't help you. Still, I don't think you should really look for them. I really mean it. Leave Chrom alone today okay!”

And with that enigmatic answer she had left.

Frederick supposed that that meant that Robin and Chrom had gone away together somewhere in secret, but where was the question.

Surely they had not gone hunting together? He had managed to “donate” all the veal they had had to Libra's orphanage, for which he had been very thankful mind you, and he thought that he had gotten rid of all the game in the castle that way, but Chrom had been determined to serve anything from the forest yesterday. It seemed like Robin and he were in leagues, as she had stated that she'd not given up on his training with strongly flavored wild meats just yet. This was why Lissa didn't want him to find them out. They were all conspiring against him! If they really did catch a bear and bring it back for supper he would make sure that Lissa would eat her own share as well.

So he decided to abandon the castle grounds for a while and search for the two in the nearby woods, hoping that he could at least prevent some of their hunting endeavors and save himself from at least a couple of awful meals.

He rode around for quite some time until he came across a brook, which, if he remembered correctly, stemmed from a natural spring often populated by animals but not that well known to people. When his lord had been just a young teen they had come across it once, and it had made a strong impression on both of them, and they had fancied the thought of bringing Emmeryn and Lissa there but there had never been a suitable time and now...

He walked his horse to it's source, not really expecting to find anything, except when he did.

There was a blanket laid out, an inexpensive one from the barracks, and on the blanket there appeared to be a picnic assortment of food lain about, different fruits with bread and cheese, excellent wine from the castle to go with them, and more importantly, a tactician and a prince.

In lip lock.

Extremely close, no space between them, no care for the world around them lip lock.

This was definitely them kissing. This was... This was inappropriate debauchery! Now everything Lissa had said made sense! He should've forced the truth out of her, to prepare for, for this...!

However, as Frederick tried to sort himself out in his shock his horse would not keep quiet, and Robin, who seemed to have her head less in the clouds noticed the new noise, opened her eyes and was startled so bad that she struggled out of Chrom's arms and stood up, stiffly, almost tipping the wine over.

“Robin, what in Naga's...”

And Chrom craned his neck around, only to notice, to his dismay, Frederick staring right at them. He stood up as well and this time the wine really did fall, although none of them seemed to care. They stood there for a while, in awkward silence, until Robin spoke up.

“I can explain.” she started. “You see, Chrom and I, we were, well, we were just gathering vital strategical information about the surrounding area and well we couldn't go without food and such so that's why there are things here and then I tripped and he was very kind to catch me and that's how you found us and, and... Yes.”

By the end of it Robin's face was completely red, and Chrom shook his head.

“No Robin, you don't need to lie. It's all right.” he told her gently, and stepped closer to her, his hard gaze fixed on Frederick, challenging him to question them. Which he of course immediately did.

“... How long has this been going on?” Frederick asked, feeling numb all over.

“Ever since the war against Plegia was won?” answered Robin, unsurely. She was uncharacteristically docile.

“And you've been like this?” he asked, and Chrom glared at him.

“Listen, I know you're upset. But Frederick, we...”

But Frederick saw how Chrom's arm reached for Robin's waist, and suddenly his world was in slow-motion. He just about dashed between them, much to their surprise, and became a wall between them.

“Without a chaperone?!” Frederick exclaimed. “Are you telling me that for months you're been committing acts like these without even announcing any sort of courtship! Think of Ro... Milady's reputation milord!”

This was just what Frederick had always feared, as Chrom reached maturity. He had always held matters such as romance and courtship at little value, and he understood them as much as Frederick liked to frolic upon fields and relax and leisurely chit chat with people. All things needed to have their purpose, and their own, lawful order. But to Chrom love was love, and he'd love anyone he pleased, and Robin was indeed a honorable lady whom Frederick held in high regard. He supposed that Chrom could've chosen someone much less capable as his Queen, like any simple girl he's idly flirted with in his life, but the exalted line didn't need a scandal, or worse, a child born out of wedlock! Which would have been a megalomaniacal scandal. Which, once again, was not needed.

“...Milady?” Robin croaked and looked at Chrom, confused, but he seemed to be as lost as she was. It was apparent that Frederick needed to be more clear with explaining his plight.

“All this time, I've been unknowingly letting you go about with your indecent behavior! I thought you were taught better milord! I thought I taught you better! There's a certain etiquette to these things, and you have not been doing these things properly!”

“Frederick...” Chrom tried to get his turn, but Frederick had not said his piece.

“No, I'm not quite finished! Lissa knew as well! You know how she's a blabbermouth about these things. Tomorrow half the court will know!”

“As they should.”

Robin put her hand on Frederick's shoulder to calm him, and as confidently as she could she showed him her left hand. On her ring finger Robin had a ring, and Frederick recognized the make. It was the ring gifted to Chrom on his birth, meant for his bride. It was a signet ring from the royal house of Ylisse.

Oh. Ooooh.

So this was the reason for their outing.

“We skipped a few phases, yes, but our feelings are true.” Chrom said, looking Frederick sincerely in the eyes, and he could see that this was the truth. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

“My... My apologies. I might have... Overreacted.” he said, and Robin laughed a little at that. Chrom seemed to be at an ill humor, though, not convinced by his apology.

“Now that this matter is clear, would you kindly leave us alone?” he said, crossing his arms impatiently.

“Absolutely not.” Frederick retorted back with lightning speed, and Robin once again giggled in disbelief, while Chrom was starting to look more and more tormented. “I was very serious about you needing chaperone. You are not a married couple yet, not even officially engaged in front of the court.”

Chrom looked like he wanted to say something, but as he caught Robin's eye, who just raised her eyebrows (Frederick could not fathom all these silent conversations they were having, they had only met some year ago), and he just sighed.

“It's getting late. We should hurry back to the castle before it becomes dark.” he said instead of whatever he was going to say in the beginning, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“And I suppose tomorrow we shall announce your engagement to the court. They've all been expecting some sort of announcement from Chrom on this matter, so now might be the perfect time to do so.” Frederick said, and began gathering the picnic up, but the color draining from Robin's face as he said the word “tomorrow” was not lost to him, nor Chrom for that matter.

“Or perhaps later?” he asked her gently, snapping Robin quickly out of what ever fright she was having, and she shook her head rapidly, holding her hands up defensively. All the grace and dignity she had shown while announcing their engagement before was gone in a flash.

“Oh no no no, tomorrow's fine, I just, um, thought I had more time to mentally prepare myself, that's all.“ She crouched down to help Frederick clean up before he could protest. “It's just... You're our friend and a fellow soldier so I thought that explaining this to you would be easier, but the whole of the court can't be too happy about Chrom's partner in marriage being well, not anyone of higher standing.”

Chrom opened his mouth to protest, but Frederick was faster than he was.

“Nonsense milady. You're one of the people who led us to victory in our last war, and have been assisting in the matters of Ylisse for a long time now. Everyone can see you're worthy of the title.”

This seemed to cheer Robin up.

“You know, I never thought that you'd say anything like that about me when we met.” She chuckled, and picked up the fallen wine bottle, emptying what was left of it in the nearby bushes. Chrom smiled at Frederick too, for the first time during this encounter.

“I guess this is settled then.” he said. “Shall we?”

And they began walking back together, although not before Frederick rather awkwardly offered Robin a chance to sit on his horse, which she refused. He did however walk in between them, and that once again dampened Chrom's mood. He did not speak until the end of their journey, as he seemed to be in deep thought.

“Frederick.” he said, once they'd reached the castle.

“Yes milord?”

“Be sure to tell me when you're planning to get married.”

Frederick nodded, dutifully. “Of course, milord.”

“Good. You'll see how much you enjoy being chaperoned and watched over like a child then.”

And with that he sped up, and entered the castle with Robin in tow (who's shoulders were shaking in a manner that implied stifled laughter), leaving Frederick behind, standing there flabbergasted. It seemed like he had misjudged his lord for having somewhat lax and forgiving nature. The tone of his voice spelled trouble for him, and the thirst for vengeance was clear.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he had made a terrible mistake intruding upon them today.

Chapter Text

Robin was not happy about how grand the wedding turned out to be. Or that was what it seemed like, because as the servants fussed over her dress and hair just an hour before the ceremony, the only thing to be found on her face was an intense look of displeasure. Or as Chrom would probably put it, an adorable pout. To each his own, Lissa guessed. She supposed that it was only natural, because after all they had just been at war, and funds were tight and whatever else she had said while discussing the budget, but everyone loved weddings! Robin was probably just nervous, nothing more to it.

Lissa couldn't imagine why, really! She was lovely, the ceremony was going to be lovely, Cordelia was only sobbing half the time, and really, she was marrying the man she loved. Or at least that was what Lissa hoped, because anything else would've made things a whole lot more awkward. Chrom could be needy, but not so much that he would actually be able to force anyone into marriage. A heir was needed, sure, and she'd heard how some of the nobility had pushed and pushed Chrom into finally choosing a wife (even if the tactician had not been in their mind for an ideal Queen, even thought Lissa thought that to be pure poppycock), but...

Not that she really doubted their love, it was just that she'd never even seen them hold hands, and while Chrom acted like a love struck fool Robin seemed like her old self. Grumpy, but still mostly the same.

True, after their engagement had been announced they'd not had one moment alone, but hey, that's what life with Frederick was like. He had always been very, very, VERY strict about the rules. They couldn't even brush shoulders without him coughing from behind and altering them of their “lewd" and “shameless behavior, unfit for people of their stature". And before this, well, they'd been kinda hiding it (although Lissa had immediately seen through Chrom, because she was his sister and Chrom couldn't've been more oblivious, from the moment Robin said his name the first time), so she did get why she had never seen any public displays of affection.

Maybe Robin just needed to let some steam out, like how she'd go over strategies before campaigns all on her own. This was a wedding though, they really didn't need to be a strategy here, except when it came to the banquet afterwards and the socializing started. And maybe Lissa knew just what she needed to unwind...

“Lissa, I swear to the gods, if you're planning on another prank, this debacle will end right now with a run away bride and princess turned into a toad!”

… Or maybe not.

“How mean! Robin, I was just trying to cheer you up! Besides, there's no magic that can turn me into a toad, right?” Robin's wry smile seemed to indicate otherwise, and Lissa nervously giggled. “Right, Robin?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe some divine justice will rain down upon you for your past wrong doings and you'll find yourself in a sticky situation due to a spell or two.”

And at Lissa's pout Robin laughed for the first time in what seemed to be days. She looked herself over in the mirror (Lissa could not wait to see Chrom's face once he'd lay his eyes upon his bride, because his slack jawed expression of awe was going to be hilarious, so much for the dignified image he was trying to create), and shook her head.

“Please, you're dismissed. I think there's nothing to be done here anymore.” she said to the servants, and they hurried away. After the doors shut Robin threw herself on a chair, and sighed deeply, looking like she'd really like to run her hand through her hair, but deciding against it at the last second, because that would mean calling the servants back to fix everything. Putting the veil on had not been an easy task.

And sitting there, on the chair Robin looked completely exhausted. Not like a blushing bride on her wedding day, but a worn down soldier, with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The playfulness in the air was gone, Lissa wondered if she should go as well, and leave Robin alone to her thoughts, but decided against it. She needed to be there, for Robin and her brother. It was what Emm would've done. She needed to confront the problem head on and speak her true feelings on the matter.

“Robin,” Lissa started, gently, “could you be having second thoughts about this?”

Robin turned her head towards her so quickly that it seems like she'd get whiplash, her expression one of alarm. And immediately Lissa noticed her mistake. So much for being like Emm. She had hurt her. Lissa hurried over, and grabbed both of Robin's gloved hands, cradling them in her own.

“Oh Robin, I'm so sorry, me and my big mouth! I didn't mean it in that way, anyone can get cold feet on their wedding day, that's what I meant!”

Robin just snorted very unattractively, looking away from her, but gripping her hands tightly as well.

“No Lissa, that's exactly it, but not for the reason you fear.” She drew a shaky breath. For a moment she hesitated, but then she continued, “I'm just a woman without a past. I don't know where I came from, or who my parents are. I could be, well, anyone. Not exactly queen material, am I right? Not as if I have the court's full approval or anything.”

So Robin had noticed the way some of the court talked about her behind her back. Of course she would've.

“But Chrom loves you! And you love him.” That was all that mattered, really. Gods, Lissa felt tears stinging her eyes. She had no idea Robin felt this way. Surely she knew that no one close to her cared about her lack of past, and that her actions spoke louder than anything in this forgotten past could?

“Sometimes love isn't enough, but who am I to talk? Here I am, about to be wed to the man I love, despite all the odds.” She laughed a little, smiling gingerly.

But Lissa was determined to right the wrong she had caused.

“Robin, don't just assume the worst about yourself all the time. You could be royalty for all you know!”

Robin's smile turned bitter. 

“Or my home could be Plegian slums. I could already be married. We don't know anything, really.” she countered, and Lissa shook her head furiously, her pigtails slapping against her face as she did so. 

“That's not the point! The point is, you are you, and whoever you were in your past does not matter.”

There, she'd said her piece. Robin chuckled a little, which Lissa took as a good sign. She seemed to think about what she'd been told for a while, until she finally gave in. She sighed dramatically, and once again shook her head.

“You know what, you and Chrom are too similar. That's probably exactly what he would've said to me. Only more prettily, maybe.” she said teasingly, and stood up, standing taller than before, and quickly she flicked Lissa on her forehead, catching her off guard.

“That's for giving me the fright of my life, you little rascal! You nearly stopped my heart there, asking if I didn't want to marry Chrom out of the blue.”

“Hey!” Lissa exclaimed, but grinned at Robin, and found herself being pulled into a short hug.

“Thank you, Lissa. I...” Robin started, but she quickly blushed and busied herself with “fixing” her perfectly done hair, messing it up a little in the progress. “Nevermind, nevermind. I was going to say something really embarrassing.”

“Whaaaat? Out with it!” Lissa said, hitting Robin playfully on her arm. “Were you gonna proclaim your love for Chrom again? Because I can handle that. I'm a big girl now, looking for romance myself.”

“Oh no.” Robin sighed again, looking more and more flustered, and avoided eye contact with Lissa even more fiercely. “Don't ever say that to Maribelle. She'd have a fit.”

“What I do with my love life is my own business. She doesn't have to chase away every guy who even glances my way, really. Not that there are too many of those...” Lissa pouted, and Robin tried to hide away her chuckle behind her hand. Lissa couldn't keep quiet though, and let her feelings on the matter bubble to the surface.

“This is a serious matter though! She's even giving Ricken the stink eye for crying out loud! Oh, And, oh, this really makes me mad, last time me and Vaike talked, Maribelle viciously attacked him after finding out, calling him a miscreant and all sorts of other mean things. Even if she doesn't hold him in high regards, all he had done was console me! He called me beautiful because he was being nice, and I'm a princess! My virtue would never be under attack from Vaike of all people! Right Robin?”

Lissa was almost out of breath after she was done, looking at Robin for support, but finding none. Instead she was almost doubled over, silently laughing at her! Oh, she'd never trust anyone with her woes ever again! And after all she had done to cheer Robin up. The nerve! She was just like Chrom. They suited each other just fine. 

“I think we need to go now. I don't want to be late for my own wedding.” Robin said after she had composed herself, joy still in her eyes. Lissa was having none of it though, and she just crossed her arms, continuing her pouting. “Oh come on Lissa. It was a bit funny.”

“That didn't look like 'a bit' of fun if you ask me.”

“Oh Lissa.” Robin said, and squeezed her shoulder. “If I must make you happy, I shall do so by embarrassing myself once again. Just now, I was going to say that I couldn't have asked for a better sister.”

Lissa forgot her anger almost immediately.

“I hope that it's not too forward of me to think that, but you are Chrom's little sister so I assumed...”

Lissa beamed at her though, and once again they embraced, and Robin had to stop trying to justify herself.

“Of course we're sisters! You'll have to get married first though to make it official.” Lissa said.

“Righty-ho, that was the plan for today. Shall we?” Robin replied, and together they exited the room, and made their way towards the chapel. Lissa took note on how Robin seemed truly happy, and grinned to herself.

All was well again. Oh, how she loved weddings.

Chapter Text

Tharja was the first one to notice that Robin was pregnant. Well, notice was the wrong term. More like, “used her daily incantation to find out about Robin's health and found out she was in waiting instead”, but that was only a technicality. One Robin would not like to know about, as she had forbidden Tharja from spying on her, so it had not happened as far as she was concerned.

For some reason the whole affair left her feeling bitter, but there was no use crying over spilt milk or spells already cast. What was done was done, and Chrom and Robin had been married for a year now, most likely fornicating for longer. Fate still entwined her to Tharja, wether she was with child or not. Their bond was something greater, and not carnal, like the eyes with which the rightful Exalt gazed upon his tactician. His wife.

Tharja had no reason to be put off by this, but pregnancy was no walk in the park. Stronger women than Robin had been lost to it, and safety was not ensued, even for a lady of high standing, so Tharja decided to take care of her all by herself. So that no twist of fate would not take her away before her time.

In the beginning Robin did not look any different. Not even her naked body showed any kind of lump, no significant swelling of the breasts (then again Robin was not blessed in this department), nor did she act like it, and she fought with the Shepherds like normal. The changes were gradual at best. Maybe she had been snappish though, asking her to act “normal” and once again demanding her to be herself, but if this loss of sanity was the price to pay for reproduction, then so be it.

But Tharja came to realize that she had neglected Robin's health when she was struck by a sudden fever in the barracks one day, one that may have been small at first but grown into something more of a pest over time. She collapsed like a damsel, and for a moment Tharja feared for the worst, but no, it wasn't more than a common cold. Robin did have the tendency to not notice these things while working, but Tharja, she should've known better.

The incident with the poisonous millipede was still fresh on her mind even though it had happened some time ago, and the fact that the oaf Gregor was the one who had noticed it first and had been the one to save Robin was a bitter pill for her. Bitter, bitter, bitter. Everything was bitter, nowadays. Trying and failing to curse him had not been a good form of stress relief for that. It had happened on Plegian soil, so she should've been the one to deal with it!

Now was her turn though, and she did her best to take care of her, through conventional means, as no spell of hers could be cast now to fix this. She was no healer, but she would just have to do her best. First, she needed something soft, for a pillow. She could not find anything so her own lap would have to do. Then a towel for the sweat. It was important to keep the body dry during fevers, she had learned that much.

Never had she touched her fated one so intimately before, but this was a situation which called for it, and who was she to deny herself this. If she let her hands linger of her body for too long it was because she only wanted to feel her stomach, feel how different if was from hers, the rise was slight but it was there, Robin would notice soon, or maybe the prince, maybe while caressing her, maybe while they made love. She should've cursed Chrom while she had the chance. This was wrong.They were wrong. Every second the baby grew inside her she could feel their bond weakening, they weren't the same as before anymore. Robin was hers... She was...

And it was as if Robin had heard her thoughts, or maybe it was because Tharja had accidentally pushed her stomach too much, for she stirred, and in a feverish haze tried to find an anchor to cling to. Tharja quickly withdrew her hand, and was ready to feign ignorance if need be.

“Hello.” Tharja said, and Robin's eyes found hers, and she got something from Robin which she had rarely gotten before: a softer than soft smile. It made her heart lurch in an odd manner. It was bizarre, but not unpleasant. It felt like the first moment she had laid eyes on her.

“Hello.” Robin replied in kind, still smiling sheepishly. “Why am I on the floor?”

“You have a fever. You lost your consciousness and collapsed.” And Robin closed her eyes, humming in response. Tharja gritted her teeth. She could already hear the accusations that would be thrown upon her. Why did you curse me? Why did you touch me? Did you do anything else to me?

Not that she wasn't proud of her spell casting. On the contrary, her runny nose hex and all the other ones that caused minor annoyances were considered legendary amongst her peers. It was just annoying to be accused of thing you had not done, even for her.

“Oh. Thank you.” Robin said instead, and with a deep breath she seemingly tried falling asleep once again. Tharja was stunned into silence. She had honestly expected Robin to think of her as a vicious Grima worshipping witch (all of which was true), but this? It was wholly unexpected. Everyone else in the Shepherds thought her exceptionally malicious (with good reason). They stayed that way for a while, until Tharja could bear it no more.

“... Will you not accuse me of putting a curse on you? Why do you thank me?” she asked, and Robin's brow creased.

“Why would I do that? Who'd ever curse their friend?” she replied, moving her head side to side slightly in a pathetic attempt at shaking it.

And that was when Tharja's heart skipped a beat.

Robin lay completely defenseless on her. Curses and hexes weren't her only weapon, this close. If she had wanted to she would've had plenty of opportunities to strangle her, or harm her unborn child. Yet it was clear she did not mistrust her.

Friend.

They were friends.

It was all so clear now. She felt the weight of the world lift off of her shoulders. So this was what friendship was like. For a moment she had thought that she...

“...Who indeed.” she replied, chuckling darkly.

One time she tried to curse Gaius. Frederick she actually cursed, but only so that he could not see her. And Stahl. Then there was that uncurseable buffoon Gregor. All of them, really. Although none were friends, so it wasn't as if it mattered. Besides they were all fine. Even if they had suffered some blunders on the battlefield. It wasn't like their insignificant lives mattered. She only needed one friend, as far as she was concerned.

“You really need to stop being so hard on yourself... I admit that you can be... Bizarre, but you're the good kind of bizarre, I guess. But you're nice. You help out people all the time, your own way...” Robin continued, as if Tharja had not done anything suspicious. She turned to her side, trying to find a better position to lay in. “'M gonna go to sleep now... Could you stay put... For just a while longer...”

And with that she finally fell asleep again. The little outburst had taken all of her strength out of her, it seemed. Tharja carefully touched her face, and Robin was indeed out like a light. Tharja couldn't keep herself from laughing softly again.

Carefully she leaned down, and touched their foreheads together. Robin was clammy, and mostly likely infectious, but Tharja found herself not caring. Any disease from her was a blessing. She breathed her sent in. She smelled like sweet sweat, not soft and soapy or perfumed like she had expected.

One true friend...

She very much liked the sound of that.

Chapter Text

“Emm! Emm!”

“What is it Chrom?”

“Look what I found!”

“What is that... Oh, a butterfly! Chrom, you need to let it go, this instant!”

“What, why? You like butterflies. And I wasn't hurting it. It's just a bug.”

“That bug is still a living being. Let it go, please.”

“... You happy now?”

“The butterfly certainly is.”

“... Great.”

“Stop being sour, I'm not really mad at you. Let's see. Do you know what this particular butterfly is called?”

“Why would I know its stupid name?”

“Stop being so stubborn. It's very unbecoming of you. They call it...”

“So how about Erika? Nice name for a girl, no? Oh, oh, what about Diana? I think that's a good one for a princess. She was your... Great-great-great-aunt, I think. These are pretty hard to interpret, actually.”

Robin's pregnancy was nearing it's end. Her belly was huge and she wasn't really keen on walking too much, complaining about back pains, so most of the time she could be found in the library, where it just so happened that she found the extended genealogy of of the Exalted bloodline, which, after a short while, became her obsession, as she started thinking of what to call their future child. She read the books obsessively, marking down every good name she saw into a list, which was going to be a mile long if she continued on any longer.

Chrom, it seemed, had to suffer through every single one of them before she was satisfied, as he too often found himself cooped up in the actually somewhat hot and stuffy library (it was a shame that this April seemed to be on the sunnier side) with his wife. Not that he minded the wife part. He was rather glad he was able to spend time with her, as their time together once again diminished with each of them having their own duties, royal couple or not.

He was still drowning in work, as he was not as handy as he would've liked with politics and paperwork. Especially dealing with Plegia put an awful strain on him, as their new ruling body was still shrouded in mystery, and all of his efforts to send help in aid of their recovery after the war were met with disdain at best, which was perfectly understandable, he supposed. Things were still pretty much in chaos, and with Robin out of the loop (focusing more on her pregnancy and trying not to stress herself, as the midwife had suggested, although one could say that this business was really what was really stressing her, as she usually thrived in paperwork, the madwoman), he really was feeling overwhelmed. 

Indeed, Chrom sometimes, during long nights spent in his study or when appealing to different nobles and officials, secretly wished that they could bring back the old days, and march again, side by side. None of this court business with it's politics and shadiness, just a tactician and a lord with an army to lead. But it was a fleeting fancy, boyish at best. He should not wish war upon his country this soon, especially not when his first child was going to be born so soon.

War was hell. More than he wished to fight again, he wished that no child of his would never have to experience anything like it.

He rose from his seat and walked behind Robin, and placed his hands on on her shoulders, squeezing them gently.

“Robin, we've been sitting here for hours trying to come up with a name for the baby. It's starting to get dark outside. Look, maybe if we just went out side for a short while? I'm sure fresh air...”

But the pointed glare Robin shot at him over her shoulder made him drift off. He was really unable to challenge her when she was like this. A name had to be picked for the baby, the sooner the better it seemed. Most likely today. He had no idea why she was this obsessed with it, either, and obsessed with picking it from his stupid lineage! Then again, like he was one to talk, as he himself...

But that did not matter.

He had to clear his head, get out of this stuffy library, and he would not do so alone.

“Why do you want to pick a name from royalty?” he asked Robin, insistent that she stop reading the darned list of hers. 

“Isn't that the best way to name a royal baby?” she asked in return, her brief anger towards Chrom forgotten, and he chuckled.

“Well, have you found any Chroms there?” he asked, smug about it already. He had been named after no one. His father has been insistent on abandoning the traditions of the Exalts of past, seeing as they did not fit his ideologies. 

“Actually, there's a Chrome here somewhere, so that might've been the name yours was based on. So ha. Wait, let me check...” she said, and pulled out the genealogy in front of her, and started to flip through the pages. Chrom was left flabbergasted for a short while. How had he been so foolish as to mention the book, when that he had wanted was to get his wife away from the book. He fell back on his chair, discouraged but not defeated. He had to come up with something different. How could it be so difficult to get one woman to go outside?

“Never mind that.” he said, but Robin kept browsing. He was starting to get upset. He would've burnt the book if he was a mage. Seeing as he was not one he tried to be more subtle about his frustration, and engage Robin in conversation again.

“I've noticed you have only picked girl's names. How can you be so sure it's a girl?”

Robin did not quit her search, but she did answer him.

“Oh, didn't I mention this? Tharja told me out of the blue one day. I also went to get a flower divination from Sumia. They both said she would be a girl.” she told him, and Chrom almost burst out laughing. Robin pouted at him, finally turning away from the book. “What? They've been pretty accurate with this stuff, so I can't find the energy to doubt them, unlike someone.”

Finally! This felt like a small victory.

“Well, we can't be that sure. No one woman can predict the future.” he said, and Robin stared at him blankly.

“I know. That's why I asked two.” she replied, in a manner that made Chrom feel like she was verbally gutting him for his idiocy, and the discussion over. She went back to the search for the illustrious Chrome.

So much for his victories. This was like playing chess against Virion. Smug dastard always won.

They were once again at a standstill, and Chrom was just about ready to give up, and go out alone. The sun was already setting, coloring the room with it's gentle orange glow, and if he thought more about this naming business, he'd just get gloomy for no good reason, and no one needed a gloomy Exalt.

Robin stopped flipping the pages though, as a name caught her eye.

“Did you find it?” Chrom asked. Maybe after this, they could go.

But she didn't say anything at first. She just stared at the book with a blank expression, until finally, before Chrom could really begin to worry, she snapped out of it.

"Maela..." Robin said thoughtfully, running her fingers over the name, as if the ink had secrets inside of it that would reveal themselves to her touch. "This is a Plegian name right?"

Plegians in the Exalted bloodline. This, Chrom had to see. He pulled his chair closer and leaned over, to peer at the page in front of him. There wasn't a Chrome anywhere on the page, but there was definitely a “Maëla”. How his father would've agonized over this revelation, if he had been here to see it.

"You're probably right. She married into the family... A cousin of the Exalt from those days?" 

Robin shrugged. 

"Don't ask me. These are your ancestors, not mine. There's nothing here from her side of the family, though. None of the people who've married into the royal line have their own genealogies here, do they?" she asked, and looked closer. 

"Actually, I'm pretty sure most of them have theirs here somewhere. At least the ones based on Ylissean nobility. My mother had hers." Chrom answered. Robin hummed in response, eyes still glued to the page before her. "Are you that interested in her? I'm sure if we searched we could find hers too."

Robin shook her head. 

"No, not really. It's just that..." She furrowed her brows, and seemed to contemplate her next words carefully. "I can't place the feeling this name gives me. It was kind of like when I recalled your name, or mine. Except this time there's this... I just can't put it to words, but it's not the most pleasant feeling. I'm sorry."

Robin sighed, closing the book with a snap. She looked at it for a moment longer, before pushing it away. She was really at a loss when it came to this name, Chrom could see that. It reminded him of the nights when Robin's nightmares woke both of them up, and how she refused to speak of them any further than that.

He had finally gotten what he wanted, but somehow it didn't feel right.

"It's all right. You don't have to try and remember anything." he offered, and Robin smiled at him, sadly. 

"That's the thing. I don't think I can."  

Chrom was surprised by those words, and once he understood what was going on, he visibly grimaced. Robin had never really expressed any kind of desire to remember the past. She was always going forward, and he had just assumed that's how she preferred it. All this looking at his family history must've made her long to know about her own past. That's why she was so obsessed with it. It wasn't just the names. And when she had asked about people who married into royalty, well, she must've been asking about herself too. 

"Robin, I'm so sorry." he said, and that startled Robin out of her thoughts. He took her hand into his, and gently squeezed it, regretting momentarily that he had his gloves on.

"You don't have to be sorry because I'm not remembering things." she said, brow furrowed in confusion, but Chrom shook his head.

"No, that's not it. All of... This must've made you uncomfortable. All this searching for names, looking at the past. My past, in a sense.”

She turned her gaze to the window, contemplating what he'd said, or maybe trying to come up with the most appropriate reply.

“I enjoyed that part, really. I didn't even really remember that I don't know my family. My background.”

She laced their fingers together, and buried her face into the crook of his neck. It was clear she did not want to discuss it anymore, so Chrom didn't press the issue, and it was Robin who spoke up next.

“Tell me then. Why are you so opposed to naming our baby?” she asked.

The question caught him off guard. He didn't think she'd noticed, but then again, this was Robin. Of course she had noticed his discomfort was due to the naming business, not only because the weather was nice, it was only natural. Still, he hesitated.

“I... It's silly.”

Robin nudged him, leaning away from him to look him in the eye.

“You can tell me. Did you want a son?”

Chrom laughed a little at that.

“What, no! Son or daughter, I'll love them all the same. And teach the sword if I must.” he said, making Robin giggle.

“Oh? Then pray tell me, my lord, what seems to be the issue here?” 

“It's not...” 

Robin held up her free hand to silence him.

“It is important to you, I can see that, so it's not 'silly' or 'inconsequential' or anything like that. Please, Chrom. No matter what it is, I won't laugh, or call you stupid.”

Chrom sighed. There was no saying “no” to this woman. Gods, he could feel himself starting to flush. So much for his dignity.

“Very well. I... When I was a child, I, well... Picked the names of my future children.” Chrom told Robin sheepishly, and as her eyes widened he quickly added, “For fun, nothing more.”

She shook her head, and and brought her free hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently. “Now I feel stupid for not asking you before. I'm sorry, Chrom.”

Chrom leaned into her touch, her cold hand cooling his heated cheek nicely, and smiled at her, reassuringly.

“Don't be. It was I who didn't speak up.” 

She smiled back at him, and slid her hand down along his arm, to hold his other hand as well. He let her, even though he missed her touch already.

“Still. Tell me, what were the names?” she insisted, and Chrom had to comply.

“Well, for a boy I thought Marth would be a nice, strong name.” 

“After the Hero-King himself, huh? How very traditional of you. And for the girl?”

“Lucina.” he said, the name foreign on his tongue, but familiar in his mind. He studied Robin's reaction to the name almost shyly, but there was no laughter or disdain, just her smile widening into a grin.

She approved?

“That is a beautiful name.” she almost whispered. “I am going to have to go back on my word and call you stupid now. Why didn't you tell me sooner? It would've saved me a lot of trouble.”

"Didn't you just tell me how you enjoyed going through the books?" Chrom had to ask, and Robin pouted a little, for show.

"It was a lot of reading, and a lot of awful names. Lucina though..."

“So you approve?” he inquired, just to make sure, and this time it was Robin who laughed. Chrom could not help himself, and he leaned down to press his lips against hers, and she continued to laugh into the kiss, even as she tried to kiss him back. When he broke away he touched their foreheads together, basking in her happiness.

“I told you, it's a beautiful name.” She brought their hand to her belly, to feel the baby. “Hello, Lucina. That's the name your father picked for you, so be sure to treasure it.” 

Chrom's breath hitched, and he didn't even try and hide the fact that he was getting misty eyed. Robin was too, and briefly Chrom wondered if he could get any happier than this, as he kissed her once more.

“They call it Lucina, 'she who brings children into the light'.”

“... You just made that up, didn't you!”

“Nonsense.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Just at your enchanted face, dearest brother. Perhaps you should go to the library and study some more, and read the books your sister recommends you, if you enjoy poetry so much!”

“Emmmmm!”

Chapter Text

She looked at the man crumbling before her, mouth moving with words she could no longer hear, slowly drawing his last breath. But she could not move, could not go to his aid. She could not even feel sorrow, even for a fleeting moment. Something vile was inside her, every heartbeat foreign to her, making her numb to the world around her.

Her husband's blood was on her hands.

The fate of the world had been in her hands, too, and she had failed. No. Not failed. This was not a failure, not for her. This was, after all, her true purpose.

She had always seen it as bitterness, something otherwise hateful about herself, but her mother had been right about her all along.

She was no woman. She had been a monster all along.  

Robin awoke with a start, cold sweat clinging to her skin, the nightmare still fresh on her mind.

She looked to her side, and found Chrom sleeping there peacefully. The grimace on her face melted. This time, she had not trashed about and woken him up as well, so there was at least that to be glad about. He needed all the rest he could get, especially now that they still had an actual bed to lay on, as their time in the castle would be short before their journey to Valm started. There was no need for both of them to be up every night due to her nightmares.

Although, there was no denying it now, not after she'd met her father, Validar (she even thought about the connection with disdain), that there was something sinister about them. They were not just a figment of her imagination, she was certain of it. Whatever was going on in them, it was too much based in reality. Really, the only thing that was off was their looks, as in the dream both Chrom and Validar were slightly older, as well as herself too, she would bet.

It was ludicrous, but there was a distinct possibility she was seeing into the future.

A future where she'd kill Chrom, just like that.

Her stomach lurched unpleasantly, and she had to get up. Anything, to not think about the dream (especially the end, even if it seemed to be the most important part of all).

When she left the bed Chrom sleepily mumbled something incoherent, grabbing at the air next to him to no avail, but did not actually wake up. 

“Rest.” she whispered, not actually thinking that he'd be able to hear her, but hoping that her message would get though in any case. She put her nigh gown on, as well as her coat for decency, and made her way to the nursery. It would be the perfect distraction. If Lucina was keeping Greta awake, she'd relieve her of her duties for a short while. She appreciated the wet nurse and her help's services greatly, especially after she'd heard how Lucina had cried and cried for her after their departure. Not that she would now though, as she barely recognized her anymore. It made her heart break a little every time she thought about it, and she knew she was an awful, awful mother, but there was really nothing she could do about the whole situation. The army needed its tactician. If she could stop the coming invasion this very instant, she would, but that was just not possible.

Even if it was a short walk away, the nursery being further away to grant them a good night's sleep in case Lucina was feeling less than restful (although she was thinking that maybe she should take to sleeping alone too, to ensue that that decision would not be in vain), the floor of the castle seemed to grow colder and colder with each step, so she hurried the rest of the way, cursing her lack of foresight to put shoes on. Once she arrived, she gently knocked on the door of the nursery, and it didn't take long for someone to respond to her. It seemed the night here had been restless too. However, to her surprise, it was no nursemaid waiting for her behind the door. The one to open it was Lucina.

Not her infant daughter, of course, but her fully grown one, dressed in her full gear like she was going to battle any moment no less.

“Mother?” she asked, tone hushed. “What are you doing up this late?”

Lucina seemed to be just as surprised to see her behind the door as Robin was to see her. It was curious to see her up here in any case, in the Royal Wing. Chrom had had to nearly force Lucina to stay at the castle. She did not want to raise suspicion, but there was no way their daughter was sleeping in the barracks. She had, however, opted for the less fancy guest quarters, and they'd had to compromise in that way. Her quick rise into their inner circle had not gone unnoticed, so it was better to keep a certain sort of distance than try and explain that she was their daughter, but only from the future. 

“I should be asking you the same thing. Is everything all right?” 

Lucina nodded in response. 

“Yes. I just... Couldn't sleep. There's too much to think about.”

“I hope that's not a trait you inherited from me.” Robin quipped, and Lucina smiled at her, even if it seemed to be more of a sad smile than an amused one. The look made Robin's heart ache, and she wondered if she'd said something wrong. Maybe Lucina had preferred her father to her mother? Or still did. Truth be told, she was still wrapping her head around the whole “child from the future” concept. It seemed to be much more easy from Chrom to grasp this sort of a thing, as he had readily just went along with this whole situation. It was just... Lucina was very mysterious, and nearly her age, unlike the small baby she'd just given birth to. It had to be hard for Lucina too, to suddenly see her parents younger, different from how she probably remembered them. 

Robin entered the room, Lucina trailing behind her. There in her crib was baby Lucina, sleeping peacefully, much like her father right now. She quietly cooed nonsense to the child as a greeting, and softly touched her head, stroking the soft hair ever so slightly before leaning away from the crib. Even though she could see no evidence of recent crying or even wakefulness, she did not want to risk waking Lucina up. Then again, she did seem to sleep better in company, so maybe Robin had nothing to worry about. None of her nursemaids were anywhere to be seen, however, and that was strange.

“Where's Greta? Or any of the other nursemaids?” she asked.

“Sleeping next door, I'd imagine. They can't be awake at m – her side every minute. I was anxious, so I came here without thinking, and there was no one here but me before you came.” Lucina explained, looking uncomfortable to say the least. This, it seemed, was hard for her as well. From what she understood, this had been her old room, and it had been stolen by this tiny version of herself. Greta too, she'd assume, as Lucina spoke with such familiarity about her. She had to have been her nursemaid for much longer than just her infancy. Maybe the baby was what made Lucina so reluctant to stay at the castle.

“Does it bother you? To see yourself this small?” Robin asked, taking a seat farther away from the crib. She patted the spot next to her, and Lucina sat there, both of them wincing at the Falchion in its sheath clanged against the wood. The baby did not rouse however, so they continued with the same train of thought.

“I'm not sure.” Lucina's brow scrunched up, and she looked a lot like her father at that moment. “It's hard to think that we're the same person. Or that she's even real. It's not really easy to put this feeling into words.”

Robin looked at her with sympathy.

“I can only imagine. After all, you must be the only person in this word to have experienced this sort of a thing. Even if the others you came with are also the children of our Shepherds, you're the only one who has been born. Chrom and I are the only ones married.”

For now. She didn't want to bore Lucina with gossip about the state of love affairs in their army, though, so she left that part out. Besides, she already knew who the future couples would be, so there wasn't even any suspense in it for her.

“I don't doubt it. I just hope that Morgan – “ Lucina froze. For a moment, she closed her eyes, looking pained, but she tried to wipe away the look from her face, although unsuccessfully. Clearly she had not meant to mention Morgan to her. Or think about him at all.

Morgan was their (unborn) son, and by that definition Lucina's younger brother. As she'd become separated from the rest of her time traveling crew, Morgan had been lost to her as well. For the past two years, in the time before the Valmese Empire's strike, one of her main goals had been to find her brother and her lost companions, she'd told them, without much luck.

Robin did not think much about him, truly. Her first thoughts about him were that she must've been the one to name him, as he wasn't called Marth. All jesting aside, even if she did not say it out loud, not to anyone, she feared for the worst. After two years Lucina had found no trace of him, or anyone else from the future for the matter. Anything could've happen to any of them, from being stranded in time to having fallen to risen a long time ago. Miriel had suggested that maybe they were just arriving in different places in time, saying something about a theory in which time was not a straight line (sometimes she understood Tharja more than she did Miriel, and that was saying something), but that was optimistic thinking, and it could lead to grief, and she'd rather not deal with that grief, not on top of all the other things she had to contend with.

She looked at Lucina though, trying to be brave and ever ready for a new battle, hand resting at the hilt of Falchion, and she knew she couldn't just let this go. Her Lucina, who had been alone for two years, trying to save the world on her own. Another trait she'd undoubtedly inherited from her father, if such traits could even run in blood. She could never be that heroic, that self sacrificing.

Lucina was beginning to look puzzled by all her staring, though, gods, she probably looked grim, like she was trying to evaluate her or something.

… Which was what she had been doing. In a positive way though.

“What is it?” Lucina asked, and Robin just wrapped her arm around her shoulder, bringing her into a half hug. Lucina, first alarmed and stiff, relaxed after a moment, and leaned into her mother, and brought her arms to her lap, almost shy, but not quite.

“I was thinking we should spend some time together before we depart.” It wasn't exactly a lie. Robin just didn't want to bring up Morgan again, and she had been meaning to spend as much time with her daughter (both of them) as possible before her focus would be shifted to the war effort.

Lucina let out a soft laugh, a far away look in her eyes (Robin could not help but wonder if it was because she knew that this was her attempt at changing the topic, or because something nostalgic just happened), but nodded. “What should we do then?”

Robin pulled her closer, so that she could properly hug her, and feeling a bit bold and very motherly (if anyone needed a hug, it was undoubtedly Lucina), she softly touched Lucina's head, stroking her hair ever so slightly. Lucina did not seem to mind though. In fact, she hugged her back, even though the touch was light at best, so she did not stop.

“How about we go to the market? I think we should finally oblige in that particular fantasy of yours.” Robin asked. It was what they had promised they'd do a couple of days ago, but had not found an opportune time to actually go anywhere, or leave the castle. Truth be told, she dreaded what garish grab Lucina would find this time (she had to remind herself to be supportive. She was not her daughter's keeper), but if she was there, she could control the situation more. Maybe together they could find something more... Wearable.

“I'd like that.” Lucina answered. Just then, a lazy knock could be heard from the door leading to the hallway.

“Hello there. I thought Robin and I were the only ones up at this hour, but clearly I was wrong.” Leaning against the frame was Chrom, who smiled softly at them.

“Father!” And just like that, Lucina detached herself from Robin, and rubbed the back of her neck nervously, glancing at her father like she'd done something wrong. That, or she was just weirded out by the state of undress she was seeing her father in. Thankfully there were no servants around, because he looked very much indecent in his sleepy visage, his shirt barely buttoned and his breeches hanging low on his hips. Robin had to physically stop herself from doing a double take just to admire him. She also couldn't help but notice that he'd found some boots to put on, unlike herself. “I'm glad I finally found you, though. I went to the library and the kitchen before coming here.”

Robin scoffed. She would't've gone to the kitchen! Gods, Chrom...

“I am not a child, you don't need to come an look for me. You should've gone back to sleep!” She tried to be silent, but couldn't. Someone had probably seen him, with him going through half the castle to look for her. Oh, what would people think of them now? They probably thought them a lewd couple. And Lucina too, she did not need to see any of this!

Chrom looked like he wanted to protest, but the new commotion had been too much for baby Lucina in the crib, and she stirred, a small sob escaping her. Before Robin could even get up though, Chrom was by her side, and carefully he hushed her. Robin was horrified for a moment, and she too went to the crib, worried that they'd woken her up, but Chrom somehow, maybe due to sheer luck or maybe because of his deep voice, managed to calm the baby down, just by speaking softly, and the sobbing stopped. He turned to her, and by the proud look on his face, Robin deduced that he hadn't though that he'd be able to calm her either.

However another sleepy gasp from the baby told them that they needed to go, lest they disturb her once more and truly wake her up, and without saying another word (or kissing the baby goodbye, Robin suddenly felt guilty beyond belief about that) they all exited the room.

Chrom was the one to close the door, and the first to speak up again.

“I hope I didn't interrupt anything, but I think all of us should follow suit and go back to sleep. Or change into nightwear to at least feign that we've tried to sleep.” he whispered, and looked pointedly at Lucina, who'd been silent for a while now.

“Some of us should've put something more on...” Robin muttered, but she turned to Lucina too, after she understood the implication of Chrom's words.

“Lucina, have you not slept at all?” she asked, and solemn, Lucina nodded.

“I told you, didn't I? I couldn't sleep.” she said, defensively. True, she had said something along those lines, but Robin had not though she'd been literal about it. Lucina saw how concerned both of her parents looked though, so she added, “You don't fret over me. I must just be nervous about the upcoming battles.”

Robin and Chrom shared a look. No matter what Lucina said, this was somewhat worrying.

“We should all go to sleep, as you suggested.” Lucina said. She then stormed past them, “Especially you, Mother, for tomorrow. Goodnight!”

And before either of them could react, she was gone.

Silence filled the hall as Lucina's footsteps faded, and any hope that Robin would be able to sleep this night had been laid to dust.

“... Should we follow after her?” she asked. Chrom shook his head, though. He took her hand into his, and she tried to smile at him, even though she knew it would not reach her eyes, and knew that he'd see through it immediately. 

“She is right to be worried. It is a horrible future we must undo, after all.”

Maybe that was why she'd been to her own room. To remind herself of what was at stake.

“I never wanted for her to see war.” Chrom said. His grip on her hand tightened for a moment, and Robin squeezed back. “We have to make sure that at least one of my daughters never will.”

“We will not fail.” she replied.

She would not fail.

Not her daughter (daughters), her son where ever he might be, not the world, not her husband.

Not anyone.

Chapter Text

The first part of the plan was supposed to be the easiest. During their private celebration to rejoice in the birth of their perfect vessel, Maela would just lace Validar's wine with a narcotic (one meant for herself, to "help" her with the pains after her pregnancy, when in reality it was meant to keep her subdued), and once he was passed out, she'd end his miserable life.

However, as it turned out, even with what was supposed to be a deadly dose, he had still been able to hang on to his senses, the damn cultist swine. He had probably been using drugs all his life, and had built up a tolerance to them. He certainly looked like it. He'd even been able to avoid the fatal blow to his neck, the knife was now lodged into his shoulder instead of it's original target. After all the effort she'd gone through to steal a fruit knife and hide it in her mattress and her person for an occasion like this, this was where she failed. She wouldn't be able to get it out without considerable effort, and by then, it would already be too late. 

"Maela... Maela, what are you doing, you wench?! Answer me! Maela!" He was writhing on the floor, trying to reach Maela as she searched his desk for useable tomes. Only tomes of the dark arts were to be found there, and she gave up on her efforts, and swiftly made her choice. She'd have to just leave Validar alive moaning on the floor and commence with the rest of her plan. Or maybe choke him with a cloth. She wasn't able to take a step though, as Validar weakly grabbed her ankle, other hand clutching his wounded shoulder. 

"G... Guards, GUARDS!" he yelled, much to the surprise of Maela. She hadn't thought he'd be able to make such a loud noise. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, but that was for show. In truth cold sweat coated her brow, because she knew that this was bad. Even if everyone was celebrating in the lower floors, including said guards, shouting like this was bound to be heard.

She went for the swiftest solution, kicking Validar in the face, shutting him up (for now at least), although undoubtedly the damage had already been done. Just another miscalculation on her part. If she had had the strength to beat him to death, she would've gladly done so, but giving birth had not left her in the same shape as she had been before her pregnancy. She was in pain, her belly still somewhat bulging and she kept bleeding. The healers told her this was normal, and had given her the medicine she'd used for Validar. If she were a normal plebeian, she would've probably been unable to to walk right now.

She cursed the bloody war they were having with Ylisse. If they had had more healing staves left to spare, then she wouldn't've been going through this now. Then again, the fault was her own. If only she hadn't so desperately wanted to become a general, and gotten mixed up with a millenia old cult in the progress.

Well, you reap what you sow. And she would.

"... Maelaaa... I made you who you are! You will pay... For th... This! Grima... Will not forget those who stand against him... He will not." Validar growled, teeth bloody, glaring at her so venomously he might as well have been a snake, and she simply shook her leg to make him let go. “You.... Are nothing without me... I will... Kill you!”

She snorted. The one thing that had been good about Validar: he always found new ways to make her laugh.

"I made myself. Grima will not be doing anything for a long time. Neither will you, for that matter." she countered, and tried to kick his teeth in for good measure, but didn't even manage to cut his lip, this time. She should've worn shoes, but as she had pretended to be bedridden and tired from childbirth, she had had no other option but to go without them. That would be rectified soon, however, and she hurried away, closing the door behind her to maybe confuse a guard or two. 

Validar's screams of rage were hard to miss, however, and not even these cultists were stupid or drunk enough as to not react to them. She was running out of time.

The next step was to raid her old room. As she had predicted, the hallways were abandoned, and she made it there without any incidents. She had clothes and other gear hidden there, under a secret compartment in her closet. She'd made it herself when she realized just what she had gotten into, but by then it had been too late, and the ritual had already been performed, corrupting the thing in her.

She got dressed and equipped herself with her tomes and sword. She hadn't even bothered with any rations. This step would be the hardest, as her goal lie in the most heavily guarded place in the castle right now.

She tired to be stealthy, as much as she could in her haste, but she encountered her first guard, and had to slow down.

It was a mage who had served under her. His name escaped her, but he was older than her, and a father of three, and had also been lured here by the prospect of being accepted into the inner circle of all Grimleal. All a false pretense, of course. Both of them were merely tools for the cultists. Still, he believed in Grima, and believed in their cause, so this would either be easy, or end badly for him. Unlike while encountering Validar, she was armed now.

She didn't hide her sword when she approached him, and nodded her greeting at him, hoping he would just walk away. He didn't.

“General, are you sure you're supposed to be up – ”

She turned around, and tried to level him with her glare.

“What I do is of no significance to you. Move along.” she told him, and he eyed her sword. “Move. Along.”

He was suspicious of her, she could see that. He looked around, maybe for other guards. She steeled herself, ready to battle him (catch him off guard, close quarters, he's a mage so he's frail, come in from the left, grant him a fast death by slicing his throat) when he sighed, and turned away.

“Even you should rest, general. It's a glorious day for us all, after all.” he said, mostly to himself as he walked away.

Maela let out the breath she had been holding, and continued on (the hallways were much more deserted than she would've left them if she was in charge), hiding around the corner as she finally reached her destination. By the door to the chamber she was headed to were two guards (two! Their arrogance knew no bounds), both elite and well-trained, this time muscle instead of magic. Even she could just not walk past them, not while armed. Her only chance for success was a surprise attack.

She readied her spell of Thoron, and before either of them realized what was going on, the thunderous spell hit both men, leaving them weakened and shocked, unable to act when she stabbed one in the lung and heart and turned to slice the other's stomach, spilling his guts.

The door was locked, but one of the dying guards held the keys. She had to act quickly now, there was no way to hide the bodies, and here there were others undoubtedly doing rounds regularly. She entered the grand nursery (former ritual hall, oh but this was a room she knew all too well), where a young woman was armed with a dagger. She'd heard the skirmish outside, even through the thick doors.

“Don't...” she whimpered, but backed away from Maela when she got closer, the dagger almost falling from her hands in her fright, but by now she had to know Maela held no interest in her, and that she was in no real danger. She was clearly looking out for her own skin, and that was fine by her. She approached the crib, and inside was the vessel, the mark of Grima on it's right hand a vile brand of proof of her purpose. She had a matching mark on her stomach too, although hers was a tattoo, instead of having been born with it.

That was the right only reserved for the vessel.

This was undoubtedly her newborn daughter, and not just some double. Not that she'd even thought that these people would be able to find a baby this fast, or even think that someone would get as far as this. Shows what they knew.

She was sleeping so peacefully it almost seemed like this was a normal child. However, she would become cruel, so cruel, just like her parents, and ever worse, if Maela did not end her life now. She would end the rise of Grima before it truly began. Her blood would have no part in this.

She raised her sword, but just as she did, the woman dashed at her, dagger held high, but in her feeble attempt at stopping her the woman only managed to get her own hand nearly chopped off, as Maela went to block her a tad bit too late. Wailing, the woman fell to the ground, dagger now forgotten completely as she nursed her wrist, her hand limp and lifeless.

“Fool! You might've been able to come out of this unscratched if you had just waited patiently for me to finish my job.” Maela said simply, but immediately regretted wasting her time, glancing at the door nervously. No one there yet. She should learn to keep her mouth shut. The woman's eyes flashed with recognition as she spoke, however.

“... Lady Maela?” She looked absolutely flabbergasted, furious, tears in her eyes as she spoke. “Why?! Why are you doing this! To bear the vessel was an... An honor. And, and you're going to end it like this, after all these years? All these preparations? Have you gone mad?! This was... Your destiny...”

She was losing blood fast, and she had no rational thought in her, like keeping the wound closed. Another death tonight, then. Well, it would be one less fanatic in this world.

However, a gulping sob turned her attention away from the now dying woman.

The baby. The baby had woken up.

Maela looked into the crib, and there she was. Awake, alive, just a girl. Even now she could see that the child would take after her, not the vile man who had sired her.

She screamed red-faced, undoubtedly alerting half the castle (if it wasn't alert already. Maybe the baby had inherited something from her father after all, namely her incredible windpipes), and the sound, for whatever odd reason, instead of making her want to end the life faster, made her heart in her breast ache.

Maela found herself unable to raise her sword again.

What a fool she was. Maela touched the child's head, and confused, she stopped her crying for a second, before beginning her tantrum once again. Maela smiled weakly, laughing at her own weakness. Perhaps there was some point to the lunatic ravings of the mad woman. This child meant something for her. However, whatever destiny there was to be had, it would not be fulfilled here. Not like this.

After all, Grima would never cry like a pathetic babe.

It was time for a change of plans. She hadn't thought either of them would make it out of here alive tonight, but apparently the child had plans of her own.

She slid the red silk (of course, because the cult could afford all the luxuries while the rest of them rotted in the slums, that was the way of Plegia) away from under the baby, and made a makeshift sling to hold the baby in. She tied it to her chest, and once she deemed it secure enough, she put the baby in and set off. It was a coward's tactic, but at least mages would not fire at her from the front, and neither would any archers.

Luck was still at her side tonight, as the baby quieted down, but she wouldn't be able to avoid detection forever. By now, Validar must've gotten help, and people would be looking for her specifically. She was nearing her limit, too. Stopping for this one moment showed her how spent she really was. Her stomach felt like it was about to turn inside out on her, and her legs, oh, she hadn't felt like this since she had been still a growing girl. And she had no drugs, no healing draughts to take her pain away.

Still, she had to at least try. She was a prideful, she'd be the first to admit it, and failure was not something she liked to write home about. She had been convinced that if she hadn't been removed from her part in the Plegian War effort against Ylisse, they wouldn't be just surviving like this, and perhaps they would've stood a chance. At least she would not have kept the vast wealth they had locked away in castles and squandered with their already weakened people's lives, that's for sure. Now was not the time to think about it though. She ran in the halls, not caring who noticed her this time, and the first guards she met tried to rush her at the stairs as she was going down.

However, the guards, who were foolishly packed tightly in the stairs, were going to be easy enough to fell. Hadn't anyone told them it was their tactician they were up against? She backed away, and as the first knight reached the top, she shot a force of lightning at him, and pushed him down, making the others fall along with him.

That would stall them for just the moment she needed. She'd have to find another way down now, though. The lower floors had to be crawling with soldiers, and she could hear running from behind her as well. There were windows here now, and she was narrow enough to pass though them.

Outside, the desert night greeted her. Just miles and miles upon sand, and a bitter cold wind that made her shiver. The child in her bosom stirred from the cold air, but did not wake. She could see the stables from here, not directly below her but close enough for her to see that there was almost no light coming from there. Most of the guards were most likely inside and on the other side of the tower, where the main entrance was, and not with the horses. No one had expected her to actually climb anywhere.

She wasn't that high up, maybe on the fourth floor, and she inched herself down onto the window below her, her position awkward with the baby in the front. It was hard though, and her strength nearly failed her. She did one more story, just to be safe, and slipped inside to rest her arms.

It was a storage room. Whatever gods were by her side, she thanked them.

Quickly Maela threw whatever dry meats and concoctions she could carry into a sack, and tried to find a waterskin, but time was pressing on, so she ignored that for now. The stables usually had those. She chugged a potion down, and felt at least somewhat refreshed, some of her strength replenished.

She changed the sling so that the baby was now on her back, and climbed back outside. This time she slipped as she did so, but she barely managed to grab onto one of the many decorative ledges before she fell to her death. There was no way she was climbing up anymore though, and she was so near the ground that if she had been in her prime, she could've just let herself down.

She was careful in her steps though, and felt safe only after her feet hit the soft sand below. Now, it was only a matter of getting a horse and getting such a head start that there was no way anyone could catch up to her anymore. The night was windy, so her tracks would be hidden as well. Just as long as luck remained on her side, she would prevail.

The guards at the stables were tense and alert, even with all the empty bottles of wine on the small table there she could see in the dim light of the lantern they had. They were three people, one woman and two men, and as they saw her approach them (no use in hiding now, the element of surprise was long gone), they all drew their weapons (and tome). There was no tricking them, but she hoped that the baby would deter any blows to the back.

Her tome of Thoron was in tatters, but it could whit stand an attack or two before breaking, so, in rapid succession, she fired her spells from a distance, and in a twist that she couldn't predict, they hit one of the women as well as some horses, which panicked at the contact, even if some of them were war horses. She cursed loudly. The front would be alerted, she was sure of it. Her escape would not be as stealthy as she hoped.

The horses' panic was nearly deafening, and the woman lay dead or unconscious, but the others took advantage of her confusion and weapons drawn, attacked. The baby had started to cry too, but by this point it would be only to her advantage.

She dodged the other man's axe with relative ease (too much wine for him, it seemed), but the sword grazed her hand, but when she retaliated with her last spell, it missed. She didn't feel too bad about it, however. Now she knew whom to avoid and who to aim for, and that made things a lot easier. The fluttering pages provided for a small distraction, which was all the time she needed to draw her sword from her hip.

Now, it was a matter of how low she would stoop to win.

The axeman tried to swing at her again, but he was clumsy, sluggish, just as expected. She stepped out of his way, and grabbed him as he staggered, and turned around just in time to throw him at the other guard, who mid-slash hit his friend in his bare abdomen. They would be slain due the swordsman's hesitation to hit her in the back, as that was where their precious vessel was. The axeman bellowed in astonishment, and feel towards the other man, and as close as they were, when Maela stabbed the warrior, the got the swordsman too.

Awkwardly strung together, the two men knew their lives were over. They had no fight left in them whatsoever. Pressed for time, she left her sword struck to them as they keeled over, and hurried to the startled horses, managing to silence the screaming baby as she went in (she hoped that this was normal for babies to do, she really did).

None of them were saddled nor pegasi, of course, and some had even died from the shock (which was good for her, in the likely case of pursuit), but one of them had a bridle on, and was tied to a post in the back. It seemed like that before the guards had gotten to celebrating, they'd been in the middle of washing him. Or maybe they had driven the stable boy away to find a more private spot for themselves, which seemed a more likely option.

It seemed like he wasn't too afraid of her either. In fact, even if he was stressed, he was somewhat friendly. It took her a moment to realize this, but this was her steed, the one she'd brought with her when she entered this wicked place.

Her heart soared. With him, she could make it. He was a fast beast, and she bet that he wanted to feel the wind on his face again.

Before getting on the horse, she had to arm herself again. Thankfully the dead woman had been a mage. She took her tome of fire, and the lantern at the table, which she tied to her hip, and used a fence to climb onto the back of the horse. She'd have to ride without a saddle, but in her need she would have to manage, even though this was one thing she would have to pay for when she'd could find another moment of calm again.

She untied the reins, and immediately as she did, the horse was hers to control, and as they made it out of the stables, she took some distance from it, and lit a haystack and parts of the roof on fire with the tome. The dry wooden shack lit up like it had been meant to do so from the moment it was built. Now the horses were truly in panic.

Drinking another potion, she then commanded her horse to gallop, and they were already out of the way when the guards from the other side arrived. She heard shouting over the loud cries of the distressed horses, but after a few arrows fell to the sands at her side, none of them shot at her from the distance again. After all, by now they'd seen the vessel on her back in the light. Twice now the baby had saved them, in this unorthodox manner.

Once Maela was sure she would not be shot at, she dropped the lamp unceremoniously, and tried to look behind her, to see if anyone was in pursuit.

She could see men in the distance, but none on a horse.

She couldn't believe it. She laughed, and it came out unhinged, unnatural. She was so tired, but it seemed like they had made it. Had she truly been lucky enough to trap all their horses in the fire? There were truly gods about tonight. Ones that were for her cause.

There was no way for them to be caught now. Not with this distance between them. For now, they were safe. Only the way forward remained unclear.

Eastwards was Ylisse, and she knew she wouldn't be recognized there. From there on out, she could go to Regna Ferox, where she could maybe take a boat to the continent of Valm. If the Grimleal weren't watching the ports, that was. Well, whatever came, she would face the problems head on.

Even if this was no journey for a mother and her newborn to take, she pressed on. She had to.

Years later, somewhere in Ylisse, as Maela watched Robin frolic in a stream, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Wondered, if perhaps in her selfishness she had doomed them all, and had only stalled for time, until the destiny laid out for this child would catch up to them and bring them all to destruction.

She knew what she had to do, however, in case that ever happened.

She steeled herself, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Chapter Text

In his mortal vessel there were many things Grima had been. Daughter, friend, tactician, wife, mother. Queen. These were all labels that had shaped Robin. They had made her weak, held back by the bonds that kept her from attaining true strength.

Robin had been a fool and a coward, but Grima? Grima was no fool. He knew what the vessel's daughter, a child of Naga was plotting, and he knew he needed to put a stop to it. Destiny could not be rewritten. He would bring destruction upon the world, and this was not for any little girl to change.

Naga did not notice him until it was too late. He had already entered the streams of time before anyone but her was none the wiser. He knew these streams, and he knew exactly where he needed to be put an end to it all. The Outrealm Gate was more than open to him, so he arrived, quietly, to a peaceful Ylisse. There was a certain freshness in the air, one that came with spring, and Grima was not as strong as he is the future. Time, it seemed, had weakened him. In this past, he was still trapped, with his heart hidden inside a girl, beating softly, like a warning bell no one could hear before it was too late. That would soon be fixed. His roar would bring doom upon every soul who heard it, and it would ring true.

He found his target fast enough. He remembered what happened on this day. The vessel and her mother would happen across a town under attack by brigands, Plegians in disguise, and that encounter would be fateful to both mother and daughter. Daughter would meet the prince and join his ilk, who would lead her to her destiny; mother would perish. However, right now, there was no town. No prince.

Only a field.

“Mother, are you sure we're not lost? I'm sure we're headed towards the wrong town.”

This vessel was young, supple. His was older, and bore the marks of both battles as well as age all over her body. However, these things were all easily fixed, and both vessels would mirror each other in looks, if Grima so desired.

“I say we go west, and west we go. It does not matter if you whine about it, girl.”

The mother, once faithful to him was a grandmaster of sorts, equipped in the art of magic and well as swordsmanship. She was more of a general than a mother, and in her prime, she could've been a force to be reckoned with. After all, who else could claim to have escaped all of Grimleal after childbirth, with a newborn in tow? But now she was old, and time had not been kind to her. Her pride would be the death of her. 

“You told me that we were going to sleep in a town with a proper inn and get a good meal in, and if we get lost we'll have to camp out again. Mother please, I'm starving! If we don't get anything soon I might as well fell the nearest animal I find, hare or bear.”

The daughter starving for love and the mother willing to give none, for the vessel was only an abomination to the mother who unwillingly gave her life and nurtured her. Don't trust anyone. Your fate is not your own. That was the wisdom of someone who hated mankind. 

So was their relationship, and it was one that would continue to feed the vessel's distrust towards her peers, and would lead them to ruin, as it was whispered to him in his sleep. 

But now was not the time for thinking of the past. This was strictly about the future.

And Grima stepped out of the shadows, alerting mother and daughter to his presence. Both reached for their weapons, but neither drew them yet.

“Who are you, stranger?” Asked the mother, stepping in front of her daughter in a feeble attempt to shield her from view. “Friend or foe?”

Maybe she had sensed something, or maybe she was less of a fool than she made herself out to be, as in front of them stood someone who wore the same coat as the other. Even with the hood pulled, she was sure to guess who this was. She just did not know how or why, and he decided to humor her. Opening the mouth that had not spoken in the longest time wasn't the way he preferred to communicate, but he would have to make do, without his maw. 

“My business is only with myself,” he spoke, surprising himself briefly when he found himself sounding just like the daughter. But the feeling was gone as soon as it came, and in that instant he attacked, and the mother was no more, just dust in the sweet breeze of spring. The vessel watched with wide eyes, unable to do anything but gape at him, or herself, in front of her, and her heart beat too fast, oh, it was about to burst, but soon a new one would replace it.

He was upon her, and he was in her mind, they were one and destiny was at hand, he was destruction, the harbinger of the end, Grima would once again awaken – but his heart remained still. 

Mother please notice me please why are you dead why now I'm scared why didn't you care why don't you love me why, please why why why – 

And with a horrible wail of pain she wrenched herself away from him, and with her last powers she struggled, hand gripping her tome, and a weak spell of thunder hit him. However, what had seemed weak multiplied in him, and he had to let go, for fear of losing himself, of falling asleep once again one of you doyoureally I see the way they look at me no one trusts me no one wants me to be theirs don't loOooook me I can't focus – 

The vessel, Robin, try as she might, could not find herself anymore. Her mind was a horrible mess, nearly two decades of human memories all hers but not, millennia of Grima's existence, it was all too much. And Grima felt it too, felt the terrible, all too human pain the vessel had been in Chrom I love you please gods no no nononono NO I can't have I what have I done this is all wrong run run run run run please run oh Lucina, Morgan, what have I done Chrom CHROM CHROM no - 

And as Robin's consciousness left her, as this was all too much for one mortal to bear, so did the pain Grima, but with a terrible cost. His powers, while still great, were even weaker now. How this could have happened he did not know. He could not touch the vessel anymore. Her shell repelled him, her slumbering face like a taunt. 

And on the road not too far away...

Fate had a twisted sense of humor. It seemed that some things would have to take their course, no matter what. 

He could not face anything now, not in this state. So he slithered away, into the shadows, to wait for another day when his heart was stronger, nurtured by a hatred for mankind only challenged by his.

He had been rash, and he had paid the price.

He could wait for destiny. 

After all, what were a few years more compared to a millennia?