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Chapter Text

The Ylisse Harvest Ball, a grand banquet with complete orchestra, ballroom dancing, and grand feasts celebrating the bountiful harvest and recent years of peace. The Shepherds took solace and enjoyment in the festivities Emmeryn had brought to the palace.

However, evil could be lurking behind every corner and one ever-wary knight was never off duty. While Frederick had shedded his armor for a finer regalia befitting the ball, his keen brown eyes continually scanned the dance hall taking in dignitaries and Shepherds. Ever watchful for someone with malicious intent.

A mop of blue hair caught Frederick’s eye. Chrom had been dancing with Sumia, or at least attempting to, as Sumia seemed to step on his feet every few steps. Congenial as ever, Chrom took it in stride for his lord had such a good heart. 

As if the Prince overheard Fredrick’s thoughts, Chrom was suddenly striding towards the knight. His Lord's blue eyes were alighted with an agenda. “Come Frederick, I must have you dance!'” The Prince declared once he halted in front of the knight with a bright smile. “Everyone is and I hate seeing standing there in that stupid manner.”

“I certainly shall not, my lord. I must continue monitoring the situation to keep you and your sister safe. It would be insupportable to shirk from my duties,” Frederick proclaimed as he tucked his hands behind his back.

“By Naga’s grace, you are fastidious enough for the entirety of Ylisse,” Chrom sighed, half annoyed yet understanding.

“But, upon my honor, for one night, just enjoy the festivities. I highly doubt Plegian Assassins plan to crash a party with the entire crew of the Shepherds present,” Chrom teased. “Hey, how about you accompany Robin!” Chrom suggested as he looked about for their new tactician, though she seemed nowhere in sight. “This will be all new to her. Maybe you could ask her to dance?” 

Part of his lord's statement was true, since they had found Robin sprawled in the field, Frederick has kept within close distance to her, but it was to ensure his Lord’s and Lady’s safety, lest Robin reveal herself an enemy, feigning amnesia in order to situate herself in the inner circle of the Shepherds. As such Frederick had paired himself with the Tactician for most battles, which now appeared to give off an air of partnership...and while Robin had not made any attempts upon Chrom’s and Lissa’s lives, if anything actually extended it from a couple of close calls. However, Robin was still unknown, probably not dangerous, but what else could explain her prowess for uncannily astute observation and tactics?

“Uh, Frederick ?” Chrom questioned with a slightly concerned expression for the Knight seemed deep in thought before the Prince’s voice snapped the man out of his speculations.

“She is tolerable to a degree; but not handsome enough to tempt me to dance,” Frederick remarked, not realizing that he was being overheard. “Chrom, I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to Sumia and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Chrom smiled, a bit sadly, as he shook his blue haired head and returned to the dance floor where Sumia eagerly rejoined him.

Suddenly, a figure strode by the Knight and Frederick had to blink twice...taken aback to discover that it was Robin. The tactician, who always wore an oversized cloak and her snow white hair drawn up in a ponytail, looked completely transformed. Her pale hair seemed to shimmer as it cascaded down her shoulders. The long flowing gown she wore was of soft opalescent pink, purple, and grey, with a v-line cut. The tactician’s head was held high as she made her way to Cordelia, who greeted her with joy.

Frederick tore his gaze away from the young woman, reminding himself to continue to check the perimeter for suspicious individuals. Chrom’s and Lissa’s safety was his utmost priority. Yet the Knight continued to catch himself staring at Robin, not realizing how he took in her smile as if it were fine wine.

From across the room Frederick watched Robin dance with Virion then Stahl. And afterwards seemed to enjoy Gaius's company, of all people. Her expression changed from patient grace, gentle chuckles, to a sweet smile that burst into laughter at whatever Gaius had remarked. 

It was at that moment Frederick realized a sensation of loneliness amongst a ballroom full of people. He couldn't dare to ask her to dance now after his statement to Chrom. And so the Knight was sentenced to watch the Tactician enjoy the festivities from afar.

...All the while trying to make sense of this new sensation stirring in his chest... 

Chapter Text

Her mouth fell agape…and this wouldn’t be the first, nor last time, Robin would gawk in emotional upheaval.

The tactician had entered into the magnificent dancehall, fashionably late. However, it had not been her intention to do so, Maribelle had insisted on being the tactician’s makeover specialist. By the time the noble had finished her magic, Robin didn’t even recognize herself as she ogled at the mirror. The young woman had probably been reading too many of Sumia’s romance novels, but she felt like a peasant turned princess for the ball.

Now Robin gawked at the spectacularly adorned ballroom. In her short length of memory the young woman had never seen such grandeur or ornate decorations. It was quite some time where Robin just stood in the doorway staring at the bustling hall, as if committing the scene to memory.

The young woman was about to step into the great hall when Chrom's voice caught her ear. She shouldn't eavesdrop as it would only add to Frederick’s suspensions of her, but Chrom’s statement was quite humorous as Robin could imagine the knight standing there in a foreboding manner. However the Tactician’s smile faltered as her name left the prince’s lips.

“Hey, how about you accompany Robin!” Chrom cheerfully remarked before there was a brief pause. Though still hidden in the shadows, the young woman could not see the young Lord, yet she could imagine Chrom looking about for her. “This will be all new to her. Maybe you could ask her to dance?”

A small smile graced Robin’s lips as her heart lifted at the Prince’s thoughtfulness. Indeed this was all new to her. But...would Frederick dance with the likes of her? One whose status is no doubt decidedly below his own. In addition he still believed her to have a nefarious hidden agenda. 

Yet, over the course of their journey, Robin was continually impressed by the knight’s unwavering loyalty and dutiful care for his Lord and Lady. Indeed, she was surprised that Frederick had himself paired up with her during battles, obviously to keep an eye on her should she try to attack the royals...but they turned out to be quite a good duo. Her magic paired with his strength, they were quite formidable. Indeed there were instances in which Frederick had protected her from harm. But of course Robin knew not to take such gestures to heart and the young woman slightly shook her head out of the reverie. It was her amnesia and lack of memories causing her to latch onto the slightest display of care for her wellbeing. The tactician was more logical and of sound mind to allow such folly to sway her emotions. Whatever had caused her to end up in laying defenless in the field caused Robin to promise herself one thing, she would never allow herself to be so vulnerable again.

Suddenly Frederick’s voice was upon the air...  

“She is tolerable to a degree…

Robin’s breath hitched in her throat as eyes widened in shock...

...but not handsome enough to tempt me to dance,” Frederick voice stated. 

Her mouth went slack and the orchestral music faded away as the knight’s voice added…

“Chrom, I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to Sumia and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

The young woman’s posture stiffened as she bit her lower lip. ‘Well, there you have it Robin,’ she bitterly thought to herself. The tactician understood his weariness extended to being too friendly with the fairer sex...logically it made the utmost sense, so then why did his words sting so much? Robin gulped down the tightening knot in her throat. 

She scanned the room for someone, anyone, to be her buoy amongst the rough sea Robin felt she was drowning in, and her gaze caught Cordelia's eyes. The steadfast pegasus knight was quickly becoming a close friend to the tactician, ever since Cordelia made the modified javelin. The pegasus knight wore a sleek gown of burgundy with matching elbow length gloves. Her long hair crimson hair was swept up into an elegant updo. And at catching Robin’s eye, she smiled brightly, beckoning the tactician over to the table piled high with a variety of sumptuous Ylissian dishes. 

Robin hitched up a smile upon her face in response and held her head up high as she entered the room. She could feel Frederick’s eyes upon her, but the young woman made no move to acknowledge the knight whom she just sauntered by.

Cordelia chuckled warmly as Robin came to a halt in front of her. The tactician arched a quizzical brow at her friend. “I am just trying to understand if you are attending a dance or going into battle Robin,” Cordelia smiled, which widened as she noticed the tactician relax somewhat at her statement.

“Possibly both,” Robin quipped back before she regaled the pegasus knight with Chrom's and Frederick’s conversation, watching as Cordelia’s eyes widened with each statement.

“He did not!?” Cordelia gasped.

“Oh but he had,” Robin sniffed as if to suggest she cared not in the slightest, and was more interested in which roll she should butter first.

Cordelia’s gaze shifted, and Robin knew that the pegasus knight was now looking over the tactician’s shoulder. “Oh his gaze is locked upon you,” the pegasus knight breathed, as if she worried Frederick may read her lips.

“Hmph, no doubt, making sure I’m not hiding a dagger upon my person,” Robin huffed.

“I don’t even think he has blinked,” Cordelia added thoughtfully.

Trying to not make her action too obvious, Robin slightly turned her head, only to find Frederick’s gaze locked upon her, an unknown expression paired with deeply furrowed eyebrows. “His brows are more tightly knitted than usual,” the tactician snickered as she played off his laser-like gaze and resumed surveying the various dishes tempting her.

“If he continues to frown, his brows shall remain so!” Cordelia chuckled in kind.

“Are they not already?” Robin mused innocently.

“Robin!” Cordelia gasped in a mock scandalous tone. “Come let's find a pair of willing dancers.”

Robin grimaced slightly, if Frederick wouldn’t dance with her, would others?

But she was pleasantly surprised when Virion quickly bowed for a dance, lavishing her with compliments to which the tactician gracefully accepted and thanked, though knew not to be swayed by the suave noble archer. But, it did feel nice.

As they twirled past a large golden gilded mirror, Robin caught a glimpse of dark brown eyes and furrowed brows watching intently. Virion quickly swept her away and Robin lost track of Frederick. 

The jovial Stahl, with his olive-colored hair still untamable, sought Robin’s hand for the next dance, to a pouting Virion’s displeasure. “Here Robin, let me show you some Yilessian dance steps,” the cavalier stated with a smile and more exuberance than his usual slightly sleepy state.

“Robin! You’re dancing like a true Yilessian!” Chrom cheered as he and Sumia passed the pair by on the dance floor. With their left hands resting upon their own hips, and the palms of their right hands pressed against their partners, their pairs encircled each other to a more energetic tempo. 

Robin didn't know what beckoned her gaze upward, but there upon the balcony was Frederick, slightly leaning against the railing as he watched the dance. Robin quickly looked back at Stahl, pushing aside the grumpy knight who was no doubt ensuring no harm came to his Lord upon the dance floor.

Chrom let out a yelp, as Sumia accidently stepped upon his foot…

Robin thanked the sweet smiling cavalier and made her way to the buffet, where Gaius was selecting various sweets. The thief had forgone his black headband and usual outfit, wearing formal attire of dark olive. Robin must have been staring at his transformation as he now looked slyly at her, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made her chuckle.

“Hey, do you think I could pelt Frederick with a shrimp from over here?” Gaius asked in a slightly lowered voice.

“Hmmm?” Robin remarked as she made to look up at the balcony, but the knight had vanished. Instead, she spotted Frederick at the end of the banquet table. The young man was slightly turned from them, but he was clearly giving the pair a sideways glance before he noticed Robin’s gaze, to which he quickly looked away and back to the dancing couples.

“While I don’t doubt your aim, I don’t think you want this to be your last meal,” Robin laughed as she took a couple of shrimp for herself. The tactician imagined the knight being pelted by the pair with pink shellfish before they ducked under the table to hide from his wrath.

The thief snickered, “Yeah, too many sweets to still try. But I’m glad you’re having a good time Bubbles.”

“Me too,” Robin remarked with a soft smile.

...Overall, it was a wonderful evening and one she would forever commit to memory...

Chapter Text

The memory of the grand Ylissian Harvest Ball filled Robin’s dreams with wonder, but there were moments of dark wary eyes glancing at her. The young woman woke with a start, hair tousled from sleep, and plastered to the side of her face. She peered blearily about her surroundings, finding herself in a cozy tent. Ah yes, the Shepherds were once again on the march…

Back in her tactician regalia, Robin peered out of her tent, noticing that sunrise barely peeped above the horizon. She was sure to be the only one up, thus first in line for breakfast, yet another individual was already hard at work. Frederick…his blue and silver armor gleamed in the first morning light as checked the weapons supply.

They had not spoken since the ball for it had been quite easy to avoid the knight in the enormous Ylissian castle. Still Frederick had taken up the task of monitoring her every movement, but luckily his heavy armored footsteps gave him away, and Robin was able to vanish just as he rounded the corner.

However, Frederick finally discovered Robin’s favorite haunt, the grand library. Somehow he managed to run into her between the bookshelves, which nearly gave her a fright as she removed a book to find the knight’s glowering face staring back at her. She heard a muffled ‘Ouff!’ as she shoved the book back into its spot, hard. Afterwards he took to watching her from behind large opened books such as ‘The finer art of Knitting’ . Robin had sniggered to herself, as if Frederick knew how to knit! 

But, one day she overheard the knight ask, “Where is the Plegian?” Robin’s blood boiled and she slammed her book shut so loudly that Ricken jumped out of his chair like a spooked cat. The fuming tactician was too angry to apologize to the mage as she stomped out of the library. The young women then set off to find another hiding place, considering the dungeon, perhaps.

Unfortunately being back on the road did not afford many places to avoid the knight and it was beginning to grate on Robin’s nerves. Heaving a large sigh, the young woman collected her wits, lifted her chin up, and marched towards the makeshift mess hall. The sound of her coming was noticed as the knight looked up. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowned, and opened it again. 

“Morning Sir Frederick,” Robin greeted him cooly and continued on before the knight could form words.

The tactician was going to keep her distance from him on this journey she decided. However, Robin wasn’t aware how much of a barnacle the wary knight could be. Today the young woman led the convoy by horseback, and Frederick’s steed stuck by her side. When she slowed, the knight slowed, when she quickened her pace, so did he. 

Lissa’s voice suddenly stated, “Robin! We need a break, my butt is starting to get numb from being in this saddle for hours!” 

Maribelle’s noble voice rebuked, “Lissa darling, must you use such language?”

“Well I wanted Robin to get the point!” Lissa grumbled and the tactician could imagine the Princess’s pouting face without having to turn around.

“Point taken!” Robin sighed as she rubbed her forehead, not missing Mariblelle’s tsk of disapproval. “Let’s pull off at that clearing for a break.” However as the convoy pulled off to the side, Robin ventured onwards to scout the downwards path of the hill they halted upon. The thud of hooves announced Frederick’s presence. 

“Perhaps a steady pace upon your mount would allow others to move in a more uniform manner,” His deep, even toned voice remarked.

“And perhaps, you can trust me to led the convoy without being wary that I am up to something nefarious all the time. I think I have earned that by now!” The statement left Robin’s mouth could bite her tongue. The words were colored in a more emotional tone than she had meant them to convey. 

The young woman could practically feel the knight bristle underneath all that armor, “I have every wish to trust you, but my station mandates otherwise,” Frederick replied in a measured tone, though his frown had deepened. 

“And are you sure it isn't a prejudice against outsiders?” Robin bit back as she turned her horse to scowl at the knight.

Frederick would have replied, had someone not knocked him right off his horse. It was all a blur of motion, before a swish of a cape lowered to reveal an assassin hunched over the knight with a blade held high, ready to strike a fatal blow.

Robin did not have the luxury to think more upon it for it would take time to rummage through her rucksack for a tome, and then to flip to the appropriate page at that. She needed to act NOW! Quickly the young woman withdrew a dagger hidden in her belt, lept off her horse, and onto the assassin, digging the blade deep into the assailant’s back.

A wheeze of air escaped the assassin, before he slumped onto his side. The young woman rose back up to her feet as she met dark surprised eyes with her overbright ones and stated... 

“How many more must I slay until your trust is earned?”

Chapter Text

When Frederick closed his eyes, he found himself gazing up at Robin’s powerful, confident, and striking visage. The odd sensation stirred in the knight’s stomach, as if he had swallowed a dozen butterflies. And now his cheeks felt flushed and warm…maybe he was succumbing to an illness? 

Yet the sensations would resolve and the knight could go about his business as normal. That is until he noticed something else. When Frederick observed Robin conversing with other single men about camp, something gnawed at his heart, like a cat sinking in its pointy teeth. It was most pronounced when Robin smiled or chuckled merrily.

Frederick placed a tentative hand upon his chest, just above his heart. There was nothing seemingly amiss physically. Yet he was now plagued with an odd desire to whack any male who made Robin smile so brightly. 

This was all strange, very strange. Frederick found himself frowning...more than usual as he tried to make sense of this. Surely something ailed him, but it wasn't severe enough to warrant a visit to Libra. Frederick pondered more upon his off centered status when the answer came to him. A lack of his rigorous training! Yes, that had to be it! Frederick had not been on his usual schedule since Robin became a Shepard for he had been too busy keeping an eye on her. And that is why he felt such an offbeat sensation when locking eyes upon the Tactician. 

Yes! This made complete sense and was absolutely reasonable. Nodding silently to himself, Frederick made his way to the makeshift training grounds and fervently began his training upon the assortment of innocent wooden boned, straw stuffed dummies.

However, the austere knight was not privy to another pair of eyes observing him in contemplation. “Frederick, are you well?” Questioned a kind male voice. The knight was startled for he had been sure he was alone and he peered about all over for the owner of the voice.

Kellam took another step forward and seemingly materialized on the spot. Truly Frederick’s training was off for how could he have missed Kellam in all that bulky eye-catching orange armor?!

“Pray tell, what makes you ask?” Frederick inquired, surrounded by a pile of splintered wood, scattered hay, and mutilated training dummies.

“Oh, just a hunch,” Kellam replied diplomatically. “I have not seen you so worked up since you nearly lost Prince Chrom in that battle long ago. You started a rabid training frenzy, but have calmed down a bit since, well since today…”

Frederick was impressed by Kellam's astute observation. The knight was quite sharp, and now that Frederick mulled about it more, Kellam was the more level headed from all the Shepherds. Sensible and calm. Frederick probably couldn’t presume Kellam to be a friend, but possibly close acquaintances? A brother in arms? Surely this is something male comrades would discuss in the taverns. Maybe Kellam could make sense as to what ailed Frederick.

“Kellam, if I may discuss a few recent events with you,” and Frederick proceeded to recount his dealings with Robin since the Ylisse Harvest Ball. Kellam's eyebrows continued to rise upon his forehead, threatening to disappear into the knight's hairline by the time Frederick was done. “You must agree that ever since Robin joined the Shepherds, I have not been meeting my status quo in training. Thus, should I return to my usual training regiment I am to return to my usual balanced self.”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence before Kellum remarked, with slight wonderment, “Wow, didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Beg pardon, but you didn’t know I had what in me?” Frederick questioned with a frown.

“That you could have a crush on someone,” Kellam stated, not looking surprised that Frederick could not see it himself.

‘Crush? Crush!?’ Frederick's frown hardened as the wheel cogs in his head sped up. “Don't be preposterous, I have no romantic feelings for Robin,” the knight huffed with irritation. Kellam gave Frederick a small, but meaningful smile. Prompting the knight to further point out how ludicrous the very notion was. “I only have love for my lord and lady, my duty as their humble retainer and loyal protector. No one else can come between my duty to the royal family.”

“Err, well, Naga…” Kellam fumbled as he felt awkward. “I'm no expert but I gotta say that's what it sounds to me.” Kellam shrugged his armored shoulders, feeling kinda sad for the knight. It was painfully clear Frederick had no experience in following his heart when his destiny was already bound to serve the royal family as a devoted retainer, and with the zeal Frederick put into, Kellam was surprised that anyone could distract the austere knight from his sole focus, then again Robin was a force to be reckoned with. This may not end well for the two headstrong stubborn souls, but Kellam would hope for the best. “I'll umm, leave you to your thoughts then,” Kellam bade the knight farewell.

Frederick had fallen into a deep state of contemplation as he took Kellam’s words seriously. Perhaps there was truth for it would explain the peculiar sensations that Frederick mistook as an ailment. So...romantic feelings...and for Robin, of all prospects. The knight began to pace back and forth in thought. Surely continuing in this state would be ill advised, he needed to do something about this, and with great haste!

Chapter Text

Is it not a universally acknowledged truth, that a single man in possession of a good fortune and status must be in want of a wife? Frederick believed it was, or at least that was what he was led to believe from the lifestyle of the nobles in Ylissian court.  And so the knight made his way to the tent of the very person who caused his ailment, with the mission to secure the solution.

The midday sun casted warm rays upon the bustling campsite. Sully was vigorously training an eager Donnel, while Maribelle and Lissa gossiped as they sipped on afternoon tea. However, while Robin was nowhere in sight, the tactician was a creature of habit and Frederick knew her schedule well. At this time of day, barring any unusual circumstances or battle, Robin would be nestled in her tent.  Most likely she was reviewing battle plans, or strategizing over maps, maybe even reading a newly acquired tome. Her book collection was the telltale sign of her tent as the plain canvas had protrusions of books leaning against it for support. Indeed, Robin strove to improve her mind by extensive reading, an attribute Frederick appreciated in the young woman. 

So focused upon the task at hand that the knight did not notice the curious glances of passersbys or whispered comments. 

“Why does Frederick look like he is going to battle?” Sumia mused as the stern knight quickly strode past her and Chrom.

“No idea,” the young prince remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. “But, doesn’t Frederick always look like he is wary of a fight?” Chrom grinned, eliciting a soft chuckle from the pegasus knight.

Meanwhile, Frederick paused in front of the tent flap and was about to call upon the young woman, until she nearly ran into him. “Oh! Sir Frederick!” Robin yelped as she stopped herself between the tent flaps. Her right gloved hand was perched upon her chest, as if to steady her spooked heart. “How may I help you?” She wore her usual tactician regalia, and had gently swept her hair up into a ponytail. 

Bright eyes gazed up at him as Frederick peered down at her…Was there always this height difference between them? He had previously not noticed, possibly as Robin carried herself so tall. Yet, now the knight was acutely aware of it. She looked petite and soft, while he towered over her, like a bear!

"Sir Frederick?" Robin questioned again, a look of concern furrowing her brows as she peered up at him.

“M…may I speak with you?” Frederick replied, cursing himself inwardly at fumbling upon his words. Yet he suddenly began to feel awkward and acutely aware of his every movement.

“You may,” Robin answered, a faint humorous smile tugged at the corner of her lips; as they were technically speaking.  

“Privately, please,” Frederick amended with a slight frown 

Robin’s eyes widened as her mouth rounded into a small, “Oh, very well, come on in." And the tactician disappeared back into the tent, allowing him to follow.

The inside of Robin's tent was quite tidy. Several stacks of leather bound books were places on the sides, while at the center was a dark wooden table with two chairs. The table's surface was covered by an outstretched map, held flat by a candle holder and inkwell. At the further end of the tent was a simple bedroll with a pillow, and at its foot sat a large wooden chest. There wasn't a fancy wardrobe, ornate tea set, or collection of perfumes that overpowered the air like the ladies of court. Instead Frederick smelled parchment, candle wax, and the crisp note of mint, it was the scent Robin wore. Bright, energetic, and refreshing…without being conscious of it, Frederick had grown to know it well, and his heart began to race.

Meanwhile, Robin observed the knight’s odd behavior with great interest. He seemed less composed than his usual self. He paced about the tent, looking here and there, while inhaling deeply. The tactician was absolutely mystified. Was the Frederick alright? Was he ill?  “Would you like to have a seat?” Robin prompted as she sat down on one of the chairs.

Frederick turned about to gaze at her as she took a seat. His brows knitted together as he tucked his hands behind his back and opened his mouth to speak, but no words were formed. The knight closed his mouth and gave her a nod as went to sit down. However Frederick looked just as uncomfortable, if not more so. Quickly he rose back to his feet and declared, “This will not do.”

Robin opened her mouth state, ‘well it's just a wooden chair.’ But Frederick’s next statement made her breathless.

“In vain I have struggled, but no longer shall I repress these feelings I have developed for you. Upon my waking hours, and even in my dreams you haunt me so. I can no longer bear it, and have decided to marry you,” the knight stood tall and proud as he strongly proclaimed this.

In turn, Robin was dumbstruck as her mouth fell open. Thank Naga she had been sitting down! Surely Tharja or Henry had cursed him to say this?! Her heart began to beat madly within her chest as her cheeks flushed pink. He had previously stated she was not handsome enough to tempt him, seemed prejudiced against her most likely Plegian origin, and was ever skeptical about her intentions. However, Robin did notice that after the day she saved Frederick from the assassin, the knight had given her ample space. However her thoughts of the knight possibly forming true affection for her were short lived as Frederick was not done speaking...

“Of course in declaring this I am fully aware that I will be going against my own better judgment. As a devoted retainer to the Ylissian family of high station, it is inadvisable for me to align myself with one of unknown history and most likely questionable family background, as well as no prospect of inheritance. Unfortunately the union is highly inappropriate, but it cannot be helped,” Frederick finished matter of factly.

Robin’s pallor blanched at his words, though she was impressed by a few things. One, how far her mouth hung agape at the knight’s enraging speech. Two, how thick headed Frederick was that it finally made sense to the tactician as to why he didn’t wear a helmet. And three, his total lack of regard for her…

Whether Frederick now frowned at Robin due to her bewildered expression or lack of response, she did not care. And with that sentiment the tactician simply answered, “No.”

Now it was Frederick’s turn to balk at her response. “No?” He repeated as he seemed to deflate. But the knight had pointed out the difficulties he was willing to overlook for this marriage on her behalf. His hesitance was justified, yet Robin swatted his proposal down as if it were a common pesky housefly! Frederick’s dark eyes brewed with anger, yet he kept his cool poise, and asked in as even of a tone he could muster, “I might as well inquire as to why my proposal was so simply snuffed?”

He watched as Robin’s bright eyes gleamed with fervor as she rose from her chair. “Because sir, instead of describing the feelings of love, mutual respect, or even the hope for a bright future together, you saw fit to highlight every disadvantage I would wrought upon you should I agree to marry you,” Robin spat the last words as if they tasted foul in her mouth. She had placed her palms upon the map and leaned forward, “I have every reason to hold you in contempt, from your prejudice to lack of regard for me.” Her eyes glistened and from their corners tears shimmered.

Corrosive acid gnawed at Fredericks heard at the sight of the young woman’s tears. The knight made to step forward, to reach out to her. “I…” Yet Robin recoiled from him, causing Frederick to feel sick.

“Out,” Robin growled like a wounded animal. “Get out and consider yourself safe from the ill-gotten gains I may have brought upon you!”

His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as Frederick stood still for only a moment before he took his leave. The tent flap closed behind him, muffling the sniffles from within.

…what had he done…

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks were unfortunate…

Robin’s usual predictive patterns were no longer. It was as if she rolled a dice to keep the knight from knowing her next move. And no matter how hard Frederick tried to find her, the tactician was either already upon her heels or had seemingly vanished into the air.

Unfortunately, it was even worse on the battlefield. The knight was no longer paired with Robin, but instead assigned with others, and placed as far from the tactician as possible. Quickly Frederick realized he no longer had the well matched fighting rhythm he had grown accustomed to with Robin.

The knight rotated between Lissa and Chrom, which was not bad as he had fought beside the prince and princess for many years. However others proved more challenging. Gaius preferred to suck on his lollipop and barely communicated his plans on the field, leaving Frederick scrambling after the nimble thief. However, where Gaius didn’t communicate, Miriel left the knight wishing for silence. Then there was Panne, who unfortunately felt more like a pain. Her cold stance against humans filled him with unease as to whether she would have his back, and ever wary, Frederick would give her ample space. Meanwhile, Nowi, while lethal in her manakete form, was easily distracted on the field. And the knight found himself more of a babysitter than an active participant in battle.

Luckily Robin must have some mercy within her for preserving Frederick's life for she didn’t pair him with Tharja or Henry, both of whom he discovered were quite devoted to the tactician. The day following his abysmal proposal the knight was startled awake by the cacophony of cawing crows. Indeed, a few dozen crows sat upon his tent, and made it their duty to follow the knight all day, until Robin intervened. “Oh! Ha ha ha, I guess it isn’t nice being followed by a murder of crows!” Frederick overhead Henry laugh while talking to the tactician.

Meanwhile Tharja stalked him from the shadows muttering darkly under her breath. Frederick caught the words…knight…desert…and…pants. He didn’t understand what the dark mage was going on about. However, Frederick did feel quite uncomfortable soon after.

How the knight had failed to see this while keeping a careful eye upon the young woman perplexed him. Indeed Frederick was unaware of the connections Robin had forged with others. He didn’t realize how the tactician enjoyed playing a rousing game of chess with Virion, drawing alongside Libra, reviewing javelin schematics with Cordelia, and studying alongside Miriel. All these deep friendships she had forged with everyone, except him…

Frederick began to lose sleep as he stayed awake next to the campfire, avoiding the dreams wrought with tearful Robins, wishing they had never crossed paths. He was forgetful, absent minded, and tripped on more pebbles than Sumia. Finally Chrom had to intervene and figure out what was happening.

“Tharja, did you curse Frederick?” The prince asked of the dark mage once he found her walking by the mess hall tent.

“Yes, I wanted him to suffer after what he did to my Robin,” Tharja revealed with a frown as her eyes scanned the area for the knight in question. After not spotting him, she added, “Frederick shall suffer the sensation of sand against his nether regions. Serves him right, though I could have done much worse, but my Robin forbade it,” Tharja smiled darkly.

“Well that explains the stiffness in his strides, but not his other actions. What do you mean by what he did to Robin?” Chrom frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Tharja hugged her dark tome closer to her body as her keen eyes narrowed at the prince’s question. “I shall not divulge the secrets my Robin confides in me. Ask Frederick about the mess he has created himself,” and with that the dark mage glided off into the shadows.

“Ummm, okay,” Chrom murmured as he lost sight of Tharja. “I should check on him,” he mumbled before walking off.

Meanwhile…The knight in question was brooding, heavily, as he walked alongside his trusty steed back into camp. Frederick combed his armored fingers through his hair and released a deep sigh. While he was trying to process all that had happened, another surprise was added to the mix. Children from the future were appearing here and there. First Marth -their mysterious helper- was revealed to be Chrom’s and Sumia’s child, Lucina. Then they found a tough looking yet quite well meaning healer named Brady, who was shockingly Mirabelle’s and Ricken’s son!

Yet, Frederick couldn’t help but notice that no child of his or Robin’s had yet made an appearance. And he was not sure what to make with that information. Should he be hopeful, or doubtful?

However, there was one future child who complicated things. Inigo, son of Olivia and Donnel, was a youthful scamp; full of liveliness like his parents. Unfortunately, he practically doted upon Robin, and followed her around like a puppy. But the lad wasn’t all innocent, Frederick knew him to be a rapscallion and known flirt. ‘Indeed he simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all,’ Frederick grumbled under his breath. Inigo was not at all on the level of Robin…

Suddenly Robin’s laughter filled the air making the knight halt in his tracks. He looked around for the tactician, and spotted her near the mess hall tent, hiding her smile behind her left gloved hand while her right carried yet another tome. At her side was Inigo, grinning widely at the tactician’s reaction.

Inigo must have done or said something that made her laugh...a brightened expression upon her gentle face. Frederick had never seen such an expression, then again he had never attempted to please her in such manners. That statement caused Fredrick to pause and frown, he had never truly made his appreciation of Robin known to her…

‘Because sir, instead of describing the feelings of love, mutual respect, or even the hope for a bright future together, you saw fit to highlight every disadvantage I would wrought upon you should I agree to marry you,’ Echoed Robin’s angered words.

Frederick felt shame wash over him like ice cold water, and glumly led his steed to the makeshift paddock. He hadn't appreciated Robin’s small smiles of victory after they had finished a good fight together. Or her soft chuckle when he stated something witty, in his dried non-humored way. Frederick now realized the small moments they had shared together, but all that time he had been blinded by his prejudices towards her, the amnesiac outsider wearing the Plegian robes, rather than Robin, the stalwart protector of the Shepherds. A brilliant tactician who always did her best to raise the odds of success in battle for them.

Naga he was a fool! 

But a true fool would never learn, while Frederick would learn and overcome.

"I shall conquer this," Frederick stated to his loyal steed, who neighed in agreement as it swished its long tail.

The knight felt revitalized to make a change within, to better himself, but how…

“Frederick! There you are!” Chrom gasped for breath as he finally caught up with the knight. The prince carried a few books in his arms and smiled congenitally at him. 

“My lord, I apologize for I have not been myself as of late,” Frederick sighed as he tucked his hands behind his back.

"That's why I am here. Well actually, to give you these," Chrom remarked as he held up three books.

“Books?” Frederick questioned as he accepted the leather bound novels, but felt perplexed.

“Well, I was able to piece together what had happened. Though Robin’s been pretty tight lipped about it. Anyway, who better to turn to than my wife right? Since I don't really have a clue so don’t ask me for advice about women. Sumia says these should help," Chrom grinned as he nodded towards the books. “Well, good luck!”

With a stumped expression, Frederick watched his lord walk away before he peered down at the three books. Quickly he scanned the titles and noted the flowery cover art. "Win her heart in a fortnight," "Love isn't magic, but using some helps," and "Pride and Prejudice."

Exhaling through his nose, Frederick retreated to his tent, settled upon his bedroll, and began to read. After feverishly reading "Win her heart in a fortnight," the knight began to suspect that Inigo must have read this one. The "Love isn't magic, but using some helps," surprised him and actually had some good tips. But the "Pride and Prejudice” novel was the winner. Frederick poured over the book, and felt connection with the male lead, and could practically see Robin’s face as the independently spirited, yet prideful Miss Bennett

Actually they all made sense in the end. All in all, to show the person of your affections that they feel cared for, special, loved…

Frederick set the book down and reflected on his next step. He couldn’t go around following Robin while playing a lute and praising her heroism. That wasn’t Frederick…he needed to find ways to show her she was appreciated in his own style. He gazed about his minimalist tent in search of an idea. There next to his thigh upon the bedroll, laid knitting needles and yarn. Frederick had not been inspired to knit something, until now…

Chapter Text

Their time on the road was wearing on all, but most especially Robin. After running into Virion and Cherche, who had fled Valm due to Emperor Walhart’s invasion of Rosanne, the tactician spent most of her time hidden away in her tent feverishly devising battle strategies against Valm’s strong vanguard and navy. The Shepherds would be presenting their case to the Ylissian court for support and funding. ‘ You would think that the threatening army of Walhart the Conqueror would be enough to shake the coins out of those stiff nobles, but apparently not unless enemies knock down the palace door!’ Robin thought as her nostrils flared in annoyance.

Suddenly, the young woman’s belly released a ravenous growl. "Shoot, missed dinner, and most likely nothing would be left by now," Robin grumbled angrily as she set down her quill. However her fury quickly dissipated due to lack of energy. "Oh well, might as well check for scraps," she sighed morosely. The tactician was about to depart her tent, when she noticed a brown paper wrapped package at her feet. Intrigued, the young woman picked it up, and upon pulling back the edges found a portion of bread, cheese, meats, and the ever coveted fresh fruit! Robin looked about, but no one was around this side of the moonlit camp. Feeling grateful, she retreated back into the tent to enjoy her dinner.

However, it was not a one time surprise. Robin's portion of breakfast, lunch, or dinner, whichever she missed, would mysteriously appear in a package at the foot of her tent. Robin was really appreciative, but greatly intrigued as to who was leaving her the food. She tried catching the mysterious meal bringer, but had no luck. And with so much work heavily weighing upon her shoulders, the tactician was ultimately just thankful the other person continued to leave her food.

This morning she departed early from her tent when a deep voice nearby greeted her. “Good morning Robin.” It was Frederick, who was already taking down the neighboring tent.

"Oh! Good morning Frederick," Robin replied, taken slightly off guard. To the extent of her memory, she had never been greeted by the knight before. Also, she had not spoken to him since the day of his disastrous proposal.

“Do you need help with anything?” Frederick asked as he continued to roll up the tent’s canvas.

Robin realized that she must have been staring at him, “Um, not at the moment. But, I will let you know if I do.” She replied, receiving a nod from the man as he resumed his work.

Frederick greeting her and asking if she needed assistance?…Did he hit his head last night? Again Robin caught herself staring at the knight. She quickly turned around and headed towards the mass tent for breakfast.

The march back to Ylisse was long and arduous. By the time the Shepherds entered the kingdom they were sweaty and covered in dust from the dirt roads. Unfortunately the young woman would have no time to freshen up as their audience with the Exalt and court was upon them.

Chrom, Lissa, Frederick, and Robin departed from the rest of the Shepherds as they continued towards the gleaming palace up ahead. “Ready?” Chrom asked as he turned his gaze to the tactician. The collective effort of the Shepherds would now be judged and hang upon the court's decision for funding. Robin’s chest swelled as she took in a deep breath, then with a determined gaze, gave the prince an affirmative nod.

So focused on the task at hand the young woman did not notice that Frederick was watching. Nor did she see the small smile tug at the corners of his lips as he was impressed by the tactician’s tenacity.

“Alright let’s do this, for Ylisse!” Chrom cheered, and pushed open the great double doors of the throne room.

Frederick, ever wary, took the tail of their group as they proceeded into the grand hall. Nobles lined both sides as Emmeryn awaited them upon the throne. At her sides were Phila and the new Hierarch, a replacement to the one who betrayed them all at Breakneck Pass. The lean dark haired man was younger than his predecessor, and while he too wore spectacles Frederick could see keen icy blue eyes behind them. The knight recalled that this new Hierarch was from a well known noble family, famous for their shrewd financial savviness.   

As the group walked on, Frederick began to hear the muffled voices of the expensively dressed nobles. They hide their mouths behind delicate fans and raised hands as they whispered:

“I thought I heard the tactician was a great beauty, but her features have no brilliancey,” jeered a hushed female’s voice.

“Well her teeth are tolerable,” remarked a deep male’s voice.

“I suppose,” the hushed female voice sniffed haughtily.

“She still wears those Plegian clothes?” Questioned a lilting female voice.

“That’s because she is no doubt Plegian, dear,” sneered a cold male voice.

“But, to allow someone like that into our midst, after Mad King Gangrel?” The lilting voice inquired, full of misgivings.

“Well apparently they let just about anyone in these days,” sighed the cold male voice.

Frederick was sure Robin could hear them, yet she kept calm and her head held up high. However, he could see the back of her neck redden with emotion. He didn’t blame her, such shallow and racist remarks. Then Frederick’s mouth went dry…he too had been prejudiced. But now the knight realized no matter her origins, Robin was a kind, determined, and caring person. Frederick gave a few louder nobles an icy glare that made them shut their mouths.

Silently, with his hands tucked behind his back, the knight observed his Lord recount the events with Gangrel and how peace was now being threatened by Walhart, the emperor of Valm. Then Robin was called forth to explain the logistics behind their campaign.

All eyes turned upon the tactician, an intense pressure that would cause most people to falter, but not Robin. She succinctly explained the Shepherd’s plan to unite with Ferox in order to push back against Walhart’s assault. However to do such they would need an increase in funds, especially with additional Shepherds signed on. Though Robin didn’t dare go into detail about the existence of ‘the children from the future’.

Now the Hierarch took his turn with spectacles gleaming under the light of the ornate chandelier. He quizzes Robin on Ylissian’s economy and how the Shepherds will use the allocated funds. Ultimately he seemed quite satisfied with the tactician’s answers. Then he made one final comment, “Not bad, for a Plegian.”

Chrom opened his mouth, but before he could retort, Frederick stepped forward. ‘Oh no,’ Robin thought as she gulped, apprehensive as to what the knight was going to say.

“Plegian or not, Robin is an astute tactician of the highest order,” Frederick began in his deep voice. “Her  skillful diplomacy has secured new trade partners, her masterful strategies have won us several battles with minimal losses, and her loyalty to the crown has kept our esteemed prince and princess safe,” he added in his deep timbre voice that captivated the entire court. Even Robin couldn’t keep her eyes off of him as her mouth hung slightly agape in awe.

“Such high praise from Frederick the Wary,” Emmeryn gently noted, causing Robin to collect herself as she quickly clamped her mouth shut.

“Your grace, I trust Robin with my life,” Frederick stated matter of factly, stunning all those around him, especially Chrom and Lissa. Both siblings gawked at their retainer as if he had grown an extra head. Meanwhile Robin’s mouth fell open again. ‘Pinch me, I must be dreaming!’ she thought as chatter broke out throughout the court.

Emmeryn held up her hand, and a hush to fall upon the throne room. “It is now we pass judgment on continuing to fund the Shepherds. Phila?” The Exalt asked the icy blue haired woman standing on her right.

Phila held herself tall as she proclaimed, “Yes, the Shepherds have full support of the Pegasus knights.”

Emmeryn nodded, then turned to her left and asked, “Hierarch?”

The Hierarch pushed his glasses back up his noses. “A strong case has been made that I cannot refuse. Increased funding will be secured for the Shepherds,” he stated.

Emmeryn gently nodded again before turning her gaze upon the four before her. “And I too support continued funding with added stipend to our Shepherds, for they have done more than just protect our beloved halidom, they have ushered in a new era for Ylisse.”

And with that rousing statement the case was closed. Robin let loose a breath she had not realized she was holding in. Frederick was about to walk away, yet a sudden urge made her call out to him. “Frederick! I…thank you, for those kind words,” Robin faltered at first, but wanted to show that she truly appreciated how he stood up for her.

Frederick gazed back at her as he stood tall. “No truer words have I ever spoken, my lady,” he stated with warmth in his voice. Then with a cordial bow followed after Chrom, leaving Robin to stare after him in utter dumbfounded amazement.

He said…

…my lady…