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His hands are bonded together behind him, throat and lips dry, body aching with every step while he walks, or more like, is shoved forwards on his feet as they walk through the long dark stretch of the corridor to the throne room of Plegia's palace.
Chrom swallows, his throat dry from the overwhelming heat of the desert sands. The rest of his state isn't much better either, having been stripped of his armor and weapons. Chrom could only move forwards in his capture's hold, keep his gaze forwards ahead of him.
He had been kidnapped, taken hostage during an invasion then brought here to Plegia's palace.
Although throughout the rough treatment in his capture's grasp, the prince can't help be relieved that it had been him captured instead of either one of his sisters as any one of them had been the intended target of the invasion. If it had been his elder or youngest sister in his place, Chrom would have sworn that he would have torn down the entire country of Plegia for them.
Being pulled forward by his bindings, Chrom clenches his jaw when his eyes set themselves on the large grand throne doors as they near with every step.
He fists his hands into fists behind him, steadying his breaths through his nose to keep calm. Chrom won't show weakness to his capture, he won't be broken down. Somehow, someway, he swears he'll escape from the clutches of the Plegian king.
Coming to a stop just feet away from the large doors, Chrom stares into the hard wood, dark curtains draped over as a pattern carved onto the wood stares back at him. Chrom has seen this symbol, those eyes, throughout his harsh journey, knows what it represents, who it represents.
But as they stand just outside of the doors, Chrom's heart is in his throat because there is no doubt that there is yelling heard just on the other side.
Or would it be more accurate to say, screaming.
Chrom's blood runs cold despite the blazing of the desert heat surrounding him, hands fisting tighter along with his clenched jaw that his teeth begin to ache. He's heard many cruel rumors of the things the current King has done, under the current King's reign.
Even as they traveled through the sand, the prince has seen how the people of Plegia would not dare near them, his captures, the Grimleal. They were terrified, Chrom could see it reflecting in their eyes as Plegia's own people stayed away.
Still, is the Plegian king torturing some poor soul inside? Is the ruler so cruel as to do it publicly in the throne room like this?
Chrom doesn't need to trail his gaze towards the guards that surround him to know, sense, the fear that strikes them all in place as the air around them tenses. The mages almost seem to hesitate to even step forwards into the room when there is a voice that calls out to them throughout the shouts.
As Chrom is shoved forwards to continue moving, passing through the grand doors of the throne room, his eyes could only take in the sight in front of him.
There stands at the throne's foot is a tall man clad in dark fabrics that makes Chrom's blood boil as soon as his eyes land on him. His eyes narrow into a fierce glare because that man, he is the man that had been there during the invasion, ordering the dark Plegian mages to attack his home, his friends and family.
Chrom will never forget his face, never.
Then, his gaze flickers towards the other in the room, the source of the shouting. There are multiple priestess that hover around another large throne like chair and Chrom can't begin to understand what they're all saying as they talk over each other, hands holding down a man also cladded in the dark Plegian fabrics.
The man struggles against their hold on him, yelling out in the Plegian tongue at either the priestess or the man that stands at the throne, Chrom doesn't know while the priestess continue their attempts of holding him down.
A chill runs down the prince's spine when the tall man at the throne speaks, his low voice silencing the whole room asides from the continued struggles from the other man.
"Why must you continue to behave this way? Especially in front of our dearest guest. You are a disgrace." Chrom understands those harsh words that leave the man's mouth as he speaks, footsteps echoing in the room as the man moves across to where the other continues his futile struggle.
The priestess soon move aside to make way for the taller man, the king, out of fear, and even the guards that surround the prince tense in place as a heavy feeling fills the air.
Chrom can't see what's happening through the many priestess that still hover near the pair, but It's only then that the other man is silenced by the harsh sound of a slap against skin that echoes throughout the room.
Harsh Plegian words are spoken by the King once more, continuing his assault with every hard strike of his hand before the taller returns another final hard stike against skin. Stunned, Chrom is horrified at the public display playing out in front of him.
A shuttering gasp is audible to them all in the room once the assault placed upon the man sitting in the chair comes to a stop, he hadn't made a single sound during. Another shuttering breath escapes from him before the man slouches forwards, letting his head hang, his white locks falling and hiding his face.
Chrom doesn't know how to feel in this exact moment as the taller speaks in the Plegian tongue down towards the other man in front of him, but the prince feels unease coil inside his stomach as he stares across the scene. He hasn't a clue who the other man is, or just why he is here...
But, he is important as the head piece placed upon his head silently tells them all.
The taller man waves his hand, motioning towards the priestess, speaking once more in the Plegian tongue while drawing away from the man still slouched in the other chair back towards the throne.
Chrom swallows dryly, his attention following after the taller man that stands foot at the throne once more, but... When the prince does so, there is strange feeling that settles over when the other man shifts ever so slightly, scarlet peering past white locks directly towards him.
Chrom meets his gaze even if it were just for the briefest of moments, captivated in those pools of red that stare into him before they hide behind white locks once more.
Chrom turns to the taller man, glares that is filled with fury, such anger the prince's never felt before because how could this man of a King threat his own people like this? The priestess that tremble in fear near, the guards that falter back around and even the people outside of the palace, they all fear this man standing tall in front of him.
The man's lip curves upright into a sickening smirk, amusement laced in his dark eyes, most likely pleased at the burning fury in the prince's expression. Chrom curses himself, for showing emotion towards the man, but how could he not when this man, the king, treats his own people like this?
Chrom would rid of him in a heartbeat.
"Well, this certainly makes things much easier." The taller man says, though Chrom knows that he isn't speaking to him but rather himself. Still, Chrom keeps silent, biting at his tongue.
"I could kill you here and now." The man laughs, a cruel sickening sound.
Chrom's breath is caught in his throat for a single moment at those words, but he forces himself to calm. The Plegian King wouldn't so much act on his words, not when his life could be of use to him for any future plan. He just has to wait it out, endure whatever is placed upon him. Only then shall he escape somehow, he'll find a way—
"I know how kindhearted your foolish elder sister could be, it wouldn't take much prodding to have her give her own life by threatening your own life in front of her."
Chrom's blood runs cold down his spine.
"You—! Don't you DARE." Chrom says through gritted teeth, glaring across at the man in front of him.
This earns another laugh, dark eyes glimmering with sick amusement. However, before Chrom could get another word out, another voice yells out across. Chrom turns, along with the King as the other man with white locks lifts his head, his piercing eyes glaring towards the taller man.
Chrom can't understand yet again as the two slip into the Plegian language, conversing with each other. But he can clearly hear the questioning tone the taller uses, a dark brow raised. Chrom doesn't falter back when the other man goes silent, turning his own attention onto him before his gaze drifts away once more.
"Hmm..." The taller turns to look back across at Chrom, his hand raised near his mouth in thought.
Then he smirks, dread sinking into Chrom's entire being.
"Have him, the prince of Ylisse, killed." An order echoes throughout the room.
Blue eyes widen at the command, pulse quickening as Chrom takes in a sharp inhale, body growing numb. He's about to be executed right here, right now. His body tenses in place when the guards at his sides begin to move, obeying orders given to them.
It's a blur, almost surreal as so many things seemingly happen all at once.
Chaotic even when the other man begins shouting again, screams across at the taller sitting at the throne. He blatantly ignores the shouts with a dismissal wave of his hand.
Still, this can't be it right? Chrom thinks, taking in another sharp inhale of air, dread pricking all over his skin. He hadn't thought that he would be killed off this soon, he had thought that, that...
Everyone's attention turns immediately back towards the other in the room who's yelling echoes off the walls when the priestess surrounding him are thrown into a panicked distressed.
Chrom only catches sight of one of the man's arm raised in the air, freed from being held down before it comes back down, silver glinting in the light and then—
Eyes widen in horror, shock, other unsettling emotions that course through Chrom at that moment.
Blood soaks the marble floors, the dark red spreading across when the man falls forth. Silver clatters near, a knife of sorts strained with blood.
The priestess quickly go to work, once more surrounding the man laying on the floor bleeding out.
The taller man at the throne merely sighs out, shaking his head with disapproval before he waves a dismissing hand in the direction where Chrom stands along with the guards.
He says something, but Chrom can't understand with the confusion that fills the prince at this whole situation, his eyes still on the man laying on the marble floors. The prince is soon shoved towards the grand doors they've entered through earlier by the guards, and Chrom could only walk forwards.
As they leave, Chrom continues to gaze into those crimson that stare back before the prince is lead out of the room, completely.
Chrom finds himself shoved into what he assumes is a cell.
He crashes hard onto the stone ground with a thud when he's shoved forwards, he couldn't catch himself to soften the fall with how his hands are still bonded together behind his back. The Plegian guards say something behind but Chrom can't understand what exactly they're saying before they walk out the singular entrance way of the dark room.
"Ugh..." The prince groans out, eyes closing while still laying on the cold ground of the cell. His body aches all over from the harsh journey through the sands, and from the hard fall.
Chrom only turns when he faintly hears the click of a lock, leaving him alone in the dark silence of the cell.
Chrom blinks, eyes adjusting to the darkness surrounding him. It's a struggle but he manages to lift himself to sit upright, licking over his dry capped lips before taking a look at his surroundings and yes he is right.
It seems that he is in a cell after a quick glance around the space, nothing much to look at.
Flexing his arms behind to test his restraints, it feels it would be futile to even attempt to break his bonds as it doesn't even budge one bit. Chrom sighs, though it turns into a dry cough while slouching.
"There isn't much I can do, then..." Chrom mutters to himself in the small space. There isn't even any windows inside when he takes another glance around, not that he thinks that the Plegian king would even so much allow him a small chance of escape.
His blood boils again just thinking about that sick man of a king, how he seems to treat his own people. How could someone like that could be crowned king in the first place? Chrom's fury burns hot inside him, eyes narrowing to glare at nothing but the darkness ahead of him.
Then his mind flashes back to that other man present. Although Chrom has to wonder just who that man is, what importance he holds, even though they're complete strangers, perhaps even enemies, it's almost ridiculous that Chrom finds himself hoping that the other man is alright even as a prisoner....
Perhaps he is too kind hearted like his sisters and friends have always been telling him, Chrom smiles faintly thinking of them all. Moving to sit more comfortably as possible despite his hands still bonded behind and getting stiff, the prince leans back against one of the cold walls, closing his eyes. What the Plegian King had said to him still stings him.
Chrom's heart beats painfully in his chest, of course he would be used as some sort of hostage, he's already come to that conclusion but... using him to lure out Emmeryn, his elder sister, the Exalt? She wouldn't hesitate to give her own life if it meant that he would be freed from his captivity. Because Chrom would do the same for her if she were the one captured in a heart beat.
"But what can I do...?" Chrom questions aloud, like someone would hear him and give him a answer. He doesn't know what to do, he's helpless here in this cell.
His hands fists against the cool walls.
Chrom prays, prays to any God out there that Emmeryn would not accept to parlay, she wouldn't be so foolish, she could easily see that this is a trap.
Tears of anger, frustrations, pool at the corners of his eyes. If there is any sliver of hope, the smallest shine of light throughout the darkness ahead of him, Chrom prays with desperation that someone, anyone hear him.
Please, Chrom prays in the cold darkness of the cell he's in.
There's something... annoyingly loud, Chrom groggily thinks. Blinking open his eyes in a confused state, heart jolting him into awareness before he calms himself although still tense, reminding himself that he is currently in the darkness of a cell.
He had fallen asleep.
Shifting, Chrom stretches the best he can in his state. His body had grown stiff, his wrists are still bonded together as he flexes his arms and it doesn't help that his thirst still lingers.
That isn't important, though.
The only reason he had woken in the first place, there seems to be a commotion throughout the palace from what Chrom could hear. The annoying noise that reaches his cell is the loud toll of bells. Confusion stirs inside Chrom, he hasn't a clue to what could possibly occurred while resting but the frantic sounds of footsteps rushing around along with shouting tells the prince that something important has happened.
Still, there isn't anything Chrom can do exactly. He is a prisoner, a hostage, locked away somewhere in the Plegian palace.
Sighing with himself, Chrom rests back against the wall once more, eyelids fluttering shut. Maybe, he could try and attempt to go back to sleep...
When there is the audible sound of the lock being opened, cutting through the air, Chrom tenses in place, fully alerted now. His head snaps in the direction of the cell door, heart race pulsing quickly in his chest when the knob slowly turns, a small crack of light seeping in.
Someone's here, who... Is it the guards? Is he actually going to be executed? Chrom's frantic thoughts die in his mind when he squints his eyes, turning his head away as the light from outside is too bright.
However, he can make out an outline of a figure slipping quietly into the room. They shut the door once more behind them with such slow careful movement, like they didn't want anyone near to hear.
Once the door is completely shut, the darkness returning to fill the prince's vision, Chrom turns his attention back onto the figure standing at the entrance when his eyes readjust.
He can't make out much detail of the other, a dark cloak wrapped around their frame, hood looming over their head but the prince's breath is caught in his throat when he meets those same scarlet hues he's seen earlier, in the throne room.
Chrom's mouth parts open but no words come to him as that man from earlier stands ahead of him, his eyes peering across at him.
The other man takes a step forwards and Chrom watches with a deep inhale, nerves on edge as his fingers curl into fists behind his back.
It's odd that Chrom doesn't feel an ounce of fear coil inside him as he keeps his gaze on the other man, only a small hint of unease that settles over him, of why he is here, what his intentions are.
Perhaps his expression gives way to his unease, Chrom thinks, because the other halts in place.
"Don't... Don't be afraid." The man whispers cautiously, stirring up the sandy air between them. "I don't mean any harm, I promise. I... I'm here to help you." He says, still halted in place a few feet away. Chrom regards him, keeping an eye on him closely. The other man's expression hard to see in the dark, especially with how the dark fabric of the hood over.
Yet... Chrom stills in place, holding the other's gaze. There's something in his voice, in the emotions reflected in his pools of red that the other is telling the truth.
If this man is here to help him, if his prayers had been heard from the Gods above then...
"Okay." Chrom whispers back as calm as he could possibly be after a brief moment passed, his blue meeting red with complete trust.
Maybe he is too trusting, as told by many of his friends and both sisters but... Chrom's sure that this man doesn't mean any harm to him as he said, promised. There's just something in his eyes, back then in the throne room and now.
A small relieved sigh escapes from the other, like he hadn't thought Chrom would be convinced so easily. He crosses over before kneeling beside the sitting prince. He smiles, filled with warm reassurance. "I'll cut you free, then. I don't want to alarm you with the dagger." The man says, silver slipping out from underneath his cloak.
"Oh, alright." Chrom could only mummer out, shifting when the other motions him too. It isn't wise to turn your back to the enemy out on the battlefield, to let your blind spot out in the open for anyone to stab you but... It's strange how complete trust fills Chrom whole, for this stranger.
It isn't long until the bonds holding the prince's wrists together are gone, when the man cuts through them.
"Ugh... thanks. This feels much better." A small breath escapes Chrom as he brings his hands forth, stretching his arms to get some blood circulation back before turning to the man beside him with a grateful grin on lips. "Really, thank you."
"It's no problem." The man faintly smiles in return.
With how close they are, Chrom could take in the other's features better now. He is fairly young, he could either be younger or older then himself, though not by much. Or perhaps even the same age as the prince stares. His silver white bangs don't hide his shade of crimson red of eyes.
Chrom's attention is drawn over where dark bruises lay across skin and something burns to life inside at seeing them, his anger seeping all over once more at what that sick man had done to the other in front of him. Though he knows, seen, that from the strikes this man had received earlier, Chrom hadn't been expecting it to be this bad as more faded bruises lay scattered across his face.
His heart sinks at the implication that this man had been...
The man flinches back when fingers tenderly caress over the dark marks left behind.
"Ah," Chrom is suddenly aware of his actions, withdrawing his hand away. He hadn't even realized when he had lifted one of his hands to gently caress over the other man's cheeks. "Oh, uh! I-I am so sorry! I, I didn't mean too... uh..." Chrom splutters, embarrassment heating his own cheeks. Why did he do that?!
"It's, uh, it's fine." The man assures, waving his hand in dismissal. "Reguardless, you should keep your voice down. The palace guards are on high alert at this moment, I don't want to draw their attention." He says in a hushed tone.
"Oh, uh, yeah." Chrom nods his head, his voice calmer.
"Can you stand?" The other asks, lifting himself to his feet before turning to the prince at his side. "Yes, I can." Chrom nods, moving to also stand to his feet though he does take the offered hand from the man.
Once standing, Chrom watches as the man beside him moves, his hands trailing over to his side then hide underneath the cloak they wear. The prince's immediate attention flickers to where his hands seem to be fumbling with something underneath the dark fabric before long, his eyes widen in surprise when hands draw back, revealing Falchion in the other's hold.
"Here, this is yours, correct?" He holds it out for the prince to take.
"You... how... Thank you." Chrom is a lost for words as he retrieves Falchion. He can't help but to also notice the dark bruises that also litter across the other's hands and up his wrist that the cuffs of his coat underneath reveals even in the dark.
And the brand that stares back up at him with all six eyes.
The other let's out a soft noise, smiling up at Chrom before speaking. "We should start moving, the guards will surely come check here when they've noticed that the sword is missing." He explains hurriedly.
"Is that why the alarm is going off?" Chrom can't help but to question. Even from where the cells are located, the sound of the bells could be faintly heard from all the way here.
"... Not exactly." The man mumbles, trailing off.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Chrom is confused now, staring down at the shorter man. He seems to hesitate for a moment before answering.
"They're most likely searching for me."
"Oh." Is the only thing that escapes from Chrom's mouth. "You're..." He swallows dryly, "Why are you helping me?" Chrom frowns slightly, brows furrowing. The man, he's risking so much to help him... and for what purpose? He holds onto Falchion tightly, mostly out of instinct while the other glances away from him.
"I.. I can get you out from here without anyone catching us." The man avoids his question, although he turns to look back up at the prince. "So please, we should hurry." He raises one of his hands, moving it as if to grab ahold of Chrom's arm but hesitates as it hovers near.
"But if you're—" Chrom moves, his own hand inching towards the man's hand.
But the man flinches harshly, his eyes quickly move down at the outstretched hand before taking a step back, away from the prince.
There's a heavy silence that fills the air between them.
Chrom's lips thin into a straight line, slowly lowering his hand back to his side.
"I... I apologize. I didn't mean to..." Chrom lowers his gaze, apologizing to the other. He hadn't meant to... hurt him in anyway. By his reaction alone... He must have... Chrom curses himself, he should been more sensible. After all, with all the dark bruises across the other's skin... of course he would have reacted this strongly.
"No. It's... It's okay. I'm sorry, I..." The man shakes his head, his own eyes down casting, hiding away. "But still, either way we should go now, before—"
His sentence is cut short by the sounds of voices nearing.
Chrom turns to look in the direction of the entrance in sharp alarm, his eyes land on the turning of the doors knob as multiple shouts are heard on the other side. His heart could stop in his chest, they're going to be caught—!
A hand reaches out, fingers curling in fabric as the other holds onto him. Chrom flickers his gaze back onto the man in front of him, those ruby staring back into him. He opens his mouth to say something but then, in a blink of an eye, they're standing out in the night air as they both stumble with the sudden rush landing, falling onto sand below.
Chrom blinks, staring up into those pools of red as the man lays above him, having been dragged down by his continued grasp onto the fabric of the prince's clothing, stars twinkling behind him in the sky.
"What... what did you just do...?" Chrom asks, still staring into those red.
"I, uh..." The man swallows nervously, lips forming into a thin line. Discomfort crosses the other's expression along with the small pained noise that escapes from him then.
"H-Hey! Are you alright?!" Chrom panics when the other almost collapses above him. He lifts himself to sit upright on the sandy ground, hands moving to hold the other upright against him.
Concern fills the prince as the man seems to be in a pained state, one of his hands cover over his stomach and—
Oh. Chrom's eyes widen in horror.
"Your wound! You're bleeding!" Chrom exclaims with panic, how could he have forgotten what the other had done just earlier?
"No, It's alright... nngh.." A whimper escapes lips, fingers attempting to move away concerned ones when Chrom reaches over. "It's not alright! We should get you medical attention right away!" Chrom urges, though, he bites at his lower lip.
Could... Could they even seek out medical aid? The palace alarms are still going off as they both sit out in the open, alerting the cities civilians that something's gone amiss. Would anyone even help them?
Taking a quick glance around their surrounding, they seem to be... Chrom can't really pin point just where exactly they are. But, as if the God's above are watching over, a church or a cathedral? Ugh, whatever, a place of worship catches the prince's sights just ahead of them. The doors should be open even as late as it is.
Taking a glance down towards his companion, they should find a place to hide out for the meantime and take a look at the other's wound. It also wouldn't take long for the Grimleal to send out troops to search for them as they've both gone missing.
They take shelter in the church.
Panted breaths escape lungs after Chrom settles the man down onto one of the many rows of seats after having carried him to the building, the doors open of all hours as they entered silently. Chrom sighs out, standing as he looks over the other sitting. The man had protested at first, but hadn't struggled against the prince's hold.
It's dark in the chapel, asides from the faint light in red from the strained glass of the large window from the moonlight outside.
After having rummaged through the drawers in the empty building for a medical aid, some bandages, anything, Chrom manages to find a small box filled with the necessary items to hopefully treat the other's wounds.
"Here, sit back. Let me also take a look at your wound." Chrom says to the other after returning to his side, motioning for the man to lean back against the seated row as he kneels in front of him.
"No, it's alright." The other protests once more, although a pained whimper escapes from him when he tries to move.
It takes awhile but the man finally complies when the prince stubbornly doesn't back down. Chrom feels the other watching him before his eyes flutter shut, his hands curled against the wooded row at his side.
Gentle fingers lift up the fabric of the man's tan shirt once his cloak had been removed along with the coat underneath, revealing smooth skin of his stomach but Chrom's worried gaze lands on the self inflected wound.
Or what is left of it.
"Your wound... It's almost faded? But you, I saw you...?" Chrom mummers to himself, confused. Eyes scan over the small faded scar across skin and It doesn't make sense, he had witnessed him with his own eyes earlier and the blood that had pooled... Even if the priestess near at the time were the best in the country, their healing wouldn't have completely healed the wound in one session and so soon. Not even his elder sister could do so.
"I, It's..." The man falls silent, eyelids still closed.
"Still, it looks like it reopened a bit... the part that isn't healed completely." Chrom sits back, swallows nervously as he looks over the items in the medical aid. "I'm no healer, so I can't... do much. But, I know how to treat a wound! I'll patch you up the best of my abilities, I promise." Chrom flashes a grin up to the other when they reopen their eyes, meeting his gaze.
And his heart flutters in his chest when the other smiles so tenderly down at him, a small huff of laughter escaping from lips.
"You're kind, thank you." He says simply.
"I, uh... It's no problem! I just hope it's good enough." Chrom smiles a bit nervously again, ignoring the rise of heat in his stomach while moving to start treating the wound the best he can before bandaging it up with the little supplies available to him.
A sort of content silence falls between them while the prince works and it isn't too long until Chrom finishes. Lowering the fabric of the other's shirt, Chrom sighs out in relief as the wound itself hadn't look so bad.
"I treated it the best I could so it should be alright for now but, I still think you should see a actual medic..." Chrom says after standing, his gaze settling down onto the other with concern edged into his expression.
The other merely shakes his head. "No, it's alright. It... It'll heal itself." He sighs, glancing away.
"I see..." Chrom mummers, not quite understanding. Silence falls between them both as Chrom flickers his gaze around, the dark red of the large glass window almost staining every inch of the room underneath the moon's light.
"Oh! What's your name? I've just realized I don't know it." Chrom asks, turning back to look down at the other as realization hits him.
Those pools of red blink open, looking back at him in the room stained in the same shade.
Chrom doesn't know why, but he smiles towards him with warm comfort.
"I..." He hesitates again, although he trails off once more, gaze flickering away.
"It's alright." Chrom reassures, his smile still on lips. "You don't have to tell me, if you're uncomfortable." The prince says, watching as the man's gaze still avoids his own settled onto him. Although, it dawns on Chrom then that he actually never did introduce himself either. Ugh, he's such a fool...
"Actually," Chrom starts, faintly laughing. "I suppose, it's a bit rude of me. I hadn't even introduced myself either in the first place." He faintly laughs again, catching the man's attention as his red trail over to him.
"So, uh... Hello! My name is Chrom, it's nice to meet you!" Chrom introduces, warm affection crossing his lips. "Though, I suppose you already knew who I was." The prince muses lightly with himself before his attention is caught when the other speaks up. Chrom turns to look back down at the other sitting, his slender fingers curling atop his laps.
"I..." He starts, lips drawing into a uncertain line like he is contemplating what to say in return. Though, Chrom is patient as he waits for the other to continue. Something changes in the man's expression, however. Because his hands tremble, fisted so tightly that Chrom wants to uncurl them. The prince is immediately concerned again, raising a hand towards the other to comfort him in some way but halts when he flinches away.
"I.. I'm... they, they..." The man shutters.
"H-Hey! What's wrong?" Chrom worriedly urges, unsure of what to do.
Again, his words strike Chrom as his hand hovers near the other. There it is again, they, just what ties does this man have with the King, and the Grimleal?
He gets his answer.
"They.. they call me, I am Grima."
Chrom's blood runs cold.
"Grima..." Chrom mummers, "Like... the fell dragon Grima...?" The prince mutters out, mostly to himself at this revelation as he stares wide eyed at the other man still seated, his own gaze still avoiding.
The prince's thoughts reel, It could just be a name, nothing more then that, Chrom tells himself. But... something else comes to mind, the rumors of the Plegian's attempt of the resurrection of their God... Could there have been some truth in those rumors? Would it make sense, if this man is really is... He is clearly someone of importance as seen earlier in the throne room, and with the brand on the back of his hand.
"Are you afraid?" The man asks, breaking the silence between them both.
"I..." Chrom swallows dryly, the other meeting his gaze as the entire room falls into a darkness, clouds hiding the moon's light.
Is he afraid, Chrom has to ask himself, repeating the man's question. But, after staring into those pools of red, the answer comes so clearly to him that it even surprises the prince himself because, no, he isn't afraid. This man had helped him escape, is risking so much, and Chrom had put his complete trust into him already, the moment this man had entered his dark cell.
"No." Chrom simply answers in response, the tint of the stained glass painting the room red once more, just like those shade of red that stare back. "I'm not afraid. After all, you've helped me escape out of that cell even though we're complete strangers. You had no reason to and yet, here we are. So really, I should be thanking you. I'm really grateful to you." Chrom whole heartedly says, bowing his head towards the other. He meant his word, this man had no reason to help him, could have just left him.
"I see..." The man mumbles underneath their breath, a short breath escaping as his body eases slightly.
"But, let me ask you," Chrom speaks, harden eyes landing back onto the other, concern settling in his gaze when the other looks up. "You... You keep mentioning, they. Is... Is it the Grimleal?" Chrom asks, settling into the empty space beside the man of the row.
"..." The other's silence is answer enough.
"I see..." Chrom's gaze falls to the other's hands, onto the brand that peers back up at him. His lips straighten into a flat line, the indication of his brand... "Do you want to be called, Grima?" Chrom simply asks, watching as the other moves his other hand to cover up the brand before trailing back up to look at the other.
There's a possibility that this man, because of the brand that lays on the back of his hand, had his identity chosen for him.
"You're... You're not in the palace anymore, they... The Grimleal aren't here to choose who you are. You are your own person, not owned by anyone. So don't let anyone else choose your own identity, your own path." Chrom knows that he isn't exactly good with his words, but here, right now, he allows his heart to speak it's mind.
The other's lips part but no words escape from him, his crimson locked into the prince's own azure.
"You have your own free will, no one can take that away from you." Chrom finishes, never breaking their locked gaze.
Because what he had spoken, is the truth. Who has the right to choose this man's path, tell him who he is. He isn't some item to be owned by the Grimleal, by anyone.
It takes a moment but, finally....
"Robin." The other says in the empty silence of the church.
"Robin...?" Chrom repeats, blinking across at the other before it hits him then. So, his name is... "Robin, huh? That's a nice name, it's also nice to make your acquaintance, Robin. Really." A smile breaks through the prince's lips that meets his eyes, faintly laughing.
"I, I don't know what to say but... Thank you, Chrom. For your kind words." Chrom can't help the warmth that blooms across his chest when the other, when a tender smile crosses Robin's lips across at him in return. "You really are kind like I've heard."
"O-Oh, of course! No need to thank me, I was just speaking my mind, is all!" Heat rises to Chrom's cheeks, the prince smiling sheepishly. For some reason unknown to Chrom, it sends warmth throughout him seeing Robin smile, a smile that meets his eyes.
And gods, the small quiet breath of laughter that Robin lets out at him, Chrom's heart sputters in his chest.
Concern still bubbles up however when the prince flickers his gaze towards the dark bruises littered on the other's skin, his face, across his neck, his wrists, the many that lay unseen underneath the fabric of his shirt and most likely more all over the rest of his body.
He can't simply leave Robin, let him go back to the palace. It wouldn't be right, there surely would be severe punishment if he were to go back...
"Robin," Chrom starts, trying to think of something, anything to help Robin in return. "Why don't you come with me? Back to Ylisse, back to the capital, Ylisstol." Chrom blurts out then as the thought pops into mind, turning to face the other with bright eyes, his hands finding Robin's own with gentle ease, warmth blooming when Robin doesn't flinch away. "You can come back with me, away from here."
"Yilsse...?" Robin repeats, lifting his gaze to meet Chrom's strong ones, his fingers faintly curling in the prince's grasp.
"Yes! Come back with me. I... You'll be safe there, with me. And I swear, I'll protect you the whole while we travel back to the border and to the castle. So please, come with me, Robin." Chrom pleas, squeezes his hold against the other's own. His eyes harden with such emotion's he isn't quite sure what to call it. But, if Robin were to go back to the palace, to that sick man of a king...
"Chrom..." Robin mummers, falling silent. "I don't..." He trails off, gaze falling down to their hands in each other's hold.
"Please, Robin..." The prince's heart could sink in his chest, the expression on the other's face, the confliction in his eyes at the offer. He really looks as if he's about to decline.
However, Robin finally answers after a moment's hesitants.
"Alright. I'll come with you, Chrom."