Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Six States, One Standard

Name: Robin

Department: Human Resources

Oh, hi! Welcome to Exalted Shepherds LLC., or as we tend to call it, ExShep! I'm Robin, head of human resources and hiring manager. Pardon our...Disarray, we were just established as an independent enterprise four months ago. Anyway, thank you for coming in and supporting us! You won't regret choosing to partner with us! 

Glasses clinked, piano music played, and the crystal chandeliers glistened and glowed overhead. Nothing but the finest for our seven most esteemed guests. 

"Hey waiter! Got anything stronger? I'm not exactly a fine wine guy, ya get me?" Despite his position as Plegia's foremost businessman, his manners were anything but, rivaled to the hoodlums in the slums he grew up in. 

"You're as immature as ever, aren't you, Gangrel?" 

"Oh, shut up Flavia. You've been chugging expensive piss water this whole damn time. Just ask for what you want, at these prices, we should be getting a bottle of vodka on the house," Gangrel responded, snapping the bar menu shut. 

"I admit, I honestly don't see either of you as wine people either, but at least you could have behaved with more tact," their dandy companion piped up, taking a long, elegant sip of his rosè. 

"HAHAHAH!! Oh, Virion, you know me and Flav, we things simple and rustic. Can't fault us for enjoying a good 'ol beer, eh?" Flavia's companion laughed, roughly slapping the gentleman's back. He choked at the force, hacking and coughing as he tried to delicately place his glass back on the table in one piece. 

"Oh, look at all of us, having such a nice time together!" a woman who looked as ethereal as a saint giggled, cheeks flushed from her colorful, fruity drink. 

"Ugh, Emmeryn, the food hasn't even gotten here yet. Can you save the disgusting sappy shit 'til I actually have something to throw up?" Gangrel groaned, popping the top off of a new bottle of whiskey, eschewing his glass entirely and chugging it. 

"As much as I hate to agree with the twit, I do believe at least our appetizers should have arrived by now," a large, imposing figure muttered, glaring at Gangrel's slouch. 

"You know how fancy places like these always wanna bring everything out at once. Makes'em look good, leaves a good impression!" Flavia's companion boomed back, chugging another beer. 

"Ugh, Basillio, don't try with him. You know how he is," Flavia said, chugging another ale. 

"Ah, I believe I see our meal arriving," their quietest guest stated, as if suddenly coming to life. 

"How'd you know? Your eyes are never open," Gangrel crassly joked, reaching for his bottle again. 

"That was racist, and wholly uncalled for," the wine-sipper growled with distaste. 

"Oh, shuddup, Yen'Fay here can at least take a fucking joke." 

"A joke at-" 

"Excuse me, your meal has arrived." Their constant bickering was, thankfully, silenced by the group of waiters setting down platters upon platters of food before them, with professional speed and grace. Their utensils came out, ready to dig in, but the loud clinking of a martini glass interrupted them. 

"If you don't mind, I wanted to propose a toast. To Ylisse, Plegia, Ferox, Valm, Roseanne, and Chon'sin, and a future of fruitful and progressive business together!" Emmeryn raised her glass, prompting everyone to do the same. For six states, one standard.

Chapter Text

Day 1: Off To A GREAT Start

Name: Daraen

Department: Merchandising

Hello, my name is Daraen! I'm sure you've met my sister, Robin, at the office. Our motto here at Exalted Shepherds LLC. is "Six States, One Standard." We import, export, and ship to and from Ylisse, Valm, and the surrounding territories with pride. We maintain the highest industry standards for the most competitive prices. We like to let our services speak for themselves. 

The front office of their new branch was abuzz with news. Emmeryn stood at the front, Gangrel next to her, behind them a pile of suitcases and bags. 

"I have nothing but good faith in all of you, and I know you'll have a successful month while we're on vacation!" Emmeryn said, pushing her stiff little brother up front. 

"I know Chrom will do an amazing job getting everyone settled into their positions. Please give him a warm welcome!" The crowd gave a lukewarm applause, still tired from the early morning. 

"Pfft, praise the dumbass with no business experience, sure! Lemme tell ya, my guys, Robin and Daraen, took down their own corrupted dad, MY OLD BOSS, got rid of everyone he bribed and blackmailed, and rebuilt it from the ground up! I ain't squeaky clean myself, but I know how to hire'em!" Gangrel flaunted, his arms over the twins' shoulders.

"Look, loudmouth, let's get going, we're gonna miss the flight," his annoyed assistant, Aversa muttered, pulling at his collar. 

"We do need to depart, Emmeryn," her assistant, Phila added, taking a handful of her bags into their shuttle bus. 

"Oh, very well! Our vacation awaits! And do remember, our phones will be out of range and kept off throughout the trip, and emails will only be accessed once a week, so do take care! Toodles!" The crowd watched in tired, sober silence as the vehicle sped off.

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE, YOU HEARD HER, TO WORK!!" a commanding voice hollered, making everyone else groan. 

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Frederick, but we really have no clue where to go from here," Chrom said, used to his family's trusted assistant's...Eccentricities. 

"Oh, I'm rather in agreement with you, dear! After all, next week, my useless fool of a boss will be stopping by to assess our progress," a cheerful woman responded, giving Frederick a polite bow. 

"UGH, can we get inside already? We can fight amongst ourselves away from the sun," Robin and Daraen's secretary (and Daraen's weird girlfriend), Tharja, complained, her grumpy demeanor hiding possible homicidal ideation. 

Once inside his office (Chrom felt very, VERY weird having "his" own office), he gazed at his mug of hot chocolate (to this day, he still hated the taste of coffee, in all its forms), completely lost. Frederick, ever loyally beside him, was pulling out sheet after sheet after sheet of paper from the office printer, scanning through them with a stern look. "Um, Frederick, why are there so many papers?" Chrom asked, finally looking up. Frederick responded by dropping nearly an entire ream of documents on his new desk, handing the startled man a pen. 

"These are the listed shipments and expense reports from the last four months under our new company's jurisdiction. You are required to look through these, making sure goods and pay dates are up to standard. If so, sign your approval and send them up to Miriel in accounting to add and store in our expense report. If not, I please send them back to their originating departments for another look-through." The entire time Frederick explained his duties, Chrom's ears only heard "Whump whump whump whump whump whump," and his brain only processed "Miriel in accounting." He slowly nodded anyway, too polite to interrupt his right hand man in the middle of his lecture (he loved giving those), drowning out more and more information as he went on and on and on. 

"Very well Chrom, I leave you to your duties. I'll be around the office updating everyone of their responsibilities for this work period." And with an unnecessary bow, he left, leaving the confused man with a stack of papers a mile high. He slumped, his face hitting the desk with a thud. Why did Emmeryn leave this to him? What did he do to her to deserve this torment?

"Achoo!" 

"Emm, you're not getting sick on us, are ya? I'm not catching a cold on our damn vacation, sweets." 

"I'm fine, Gangrel, just a bit of sand and salt spray. Thank you for your concern, dear!" Emmeryn replied, giving the man a beaming smile. He turned away, face redder than his sunburn (he stubbornly and vehemently refused any from the woman next to him), muttering under his breath. Aversa, from her seat at the bar, rolled her eyes and groaned. 

Chrom's eyes were strained. Very strained. He had only read through the first half of the page, but all the numbers and names and boxes and lines and....Nope. He stood, walking to the door to let some air and white noise in (and totally not beg Frederick for help), when he was face-to-face with three others at the door. 

"Oh, Chrom, um, I, uh, had gotten some records from logistics mixed up with your work," the first, a nervous redhead stammered out, avoiding direct eye contact. 

"Oh, it's quite alright Cordelia, feel free to go inside for a look." She rushed past him, almost slamming him into the wall with her speed. The other two he had never been formally introduced to, but he was never one to miss an opportunity to make friends. 

"Uh, hi, I'm Chrom, from Ylisse, and, uh, Emmeryn's little brother," he lamely said, cursing himself in his head for a poor introduction. The woman with white pigtails reached out to him first, holding out a polite hand and professional smile to him. 

"I'm Robin, and this is my twin brother, Daraen. We're the Reflet twins, and we hail from Plegia. An honor to work with you!" Chrom dumbly shook her hand, unsure of how to conduct himself. He was normally a....Casual guy, not good with formalities. Or pretty girls. He took the gentleman's hand as well, trading a firm shake. 

"I'm from the merchandising department, and my sister is head of human resources. Feel free to call on us for anything if you ever feel the need to," Daraen said, friendly grin on his face. As Chrom moved to speak though, Cordelia behind him pushed the door into his back, causing him to fall forward with intense force, headbutting his visitor. 

"I'm SO sorry!" the logistics head said, placing down almost ALL of Chrom's paperwork on the floor as she helped the fallen Plegian man up. Without thinking, and powered purely by relieved joy, Chrom threw himself at Cordelia in a tight hug, crying a loud "THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" Well, this is one way to start the day.