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Every time Robin thought back to waking up, trying to remember something more, it always started the same way.
Blue. Blue sky, blue hair, blue eyes.
Kind, intelligent, earnest eyes.
It was no surprise that the tactician was nearly at a loss for a name in that moment.
--
As justified as Frederick’s concerns were, Chrom was insistent on making sure that the Shepherds’ new tactician felt right at home. For someone whose station was high enough that troubling himself with a person he literally found in a field was undoubtedly beneath him, he was kinder than he needed to be.
And he persisted. The tactician had an unknown past, no connections, and was utterly penniless, yet Chrom did not desire Robin's company any less.
It was the little things at first. A lingering touch on the shoulder after a dangerous brush with an arrow, small talk after tactical meetings in the barracks that went on about everything and nothing.
The spark was fanned into a flame on the wintry road to Regna Ferox.
--
Then came Sumia.
Strictly speaking, she had always been there, of course, but she had only recently gained a steed and taken to the front lines.
There were little things. The higher pitch and mirth in her voice whenever she said the words “Captain Chrom”, the flush in her face whenever she spoke to him, the discarded petals from round after round of flower fortunes along her patrol route.
Robin hadn't forgotten the look of love after all.
--
As Robin expounded upon contingency after contingency en route to rescuing Maribelle, Chrom interjected to ask, “Robin, are you ever satisfied?” in mock exasperation.
Robin could only smile wryly and answer, “No, I suppose not.”
--
Robin pitied Cordelia in her first battle with the Shepherds. She and Sumia shared those looks of longing, but Cordelia had none of Sumia's hopefulness. For someone so willing to strive for perfection, she seemed to have already given up.
Robin didn’t have the time to imagine what that would feel like.
--
Chrom was many things, but only Robin was keenly aware that the prince was in over his head as early as Regna Ferox. He was perfectly pleasant and had an unquestionably good heart, but he had no sense of subtlety and diplomacy was not his strong point (with the exception of Feroxi-esque diplomacy by combat).
For as much as he tried to present himself as a strong, charismatic leader for the army’s benefit, Chrom had just as many moments of putting his foot in his mouth around Robin. It was a comfort to Robin that Chrom felt safe enough in his tactician’s presence to let go of the facade. Yet, from time to time, Robin couldn’t help but to wonder exactly how many people had seen that side of him. How many other people would understand him the way that Robin did?
There was a certain sense of pride that came from being confided in. Every now and then, a desire to monopolize that side of Chrom would rise up, and time and time again, Robin would push it away. There was no claim to be made, not at a time like this. Perhaps there would be more time when Ylisse was at peace again.
--
Very few words were exchanged after Emmeryn’s death. Never mind that Robin had scarcely seen Chrom in the ensuing chaos, but no one could seem to find the right words to say. Robin thought to stop by the prince’s tent to check up on him, and stopped cold at the sight of Sumia outside it, trying to find the courage to enter.
Sumia, who had been trying so hard to keep her liege in good spirits. Sumia, who fought beside Chrom so well. Sumia, whose eyes were filled with so much adoration for him.
Robin realized three fundamental truths at the exact same time.
One: Chrom was now the eldest child of House Ylisse. As nice as he was, the man did not have a head for politics. Whether he realized it or not, he now had a duty to marry someone of rank and continue the exalted bloodline.
Two: Robin had no designs on rank, but there was no denying that being so close to an Exalt would significantly elevate one’s status, and at those levels, gossip would be insidious and unavoidable. Ylisse was still reeling from Chrom’s father’s bloody campaign and Emmeryn’s death. Chrom was already going to return to Ylisstol with a tactician of completely unknown origin and various and sundry soldiers. Anything further needed to be handled with utmost care.
Three: Sumia. Trusting, kind, earnest Sumia, the brave pegasus knight who had been positively over the moon when fighting by Chrom’s side. The two of them liked each other well enough, they both had the endearing clumsiness and trusting nature of puppies, and from what Robin could gather, Sumia was from a respectable enough family that the match would not ruffle too many upper-class families.
For what it was worth, Sumia would be happy as his bride.
--
Robin saw the ring on Sumia’s finger on the evening of Gangrel’s defeat.
It may have been the tactician’s own idea, but there was an undeniable ache all the same. In another time, in another life, perhaps Robin would have been the one at Chrom’s side that night. If only Robin hadn’t sized up the situation so quickly.
At the very least, Robin was not without consolation. The position of tactician kept Chrom in Robin's life - azure eyes and all.
By the next morning, the ache had faded into numbness.
--
The crown prince’s wedding was held with much pomp and circumstance. It was an event meant to inspire hope in a halidom strained by war and the recent loss of Exalt Emmeryn. By Robin’s estimation, it seemed to have been quite effective, but the real work was yet to come.
The reception festivities, the more exclusive of the day’s events, began as the sun sank low in the sky. Robin was not ordinarily one for drink, but tonight, it held an allure like it never had before. Two glasses of red wine were all that the strategist would dare to venture before leading the toasts to the royal couple, lest the resulting speech fulfil the adage “in vino veritas”.
“It has been my privilege and honor to fight by both of your sides, and I wish you all the best in the years to come. Congratulations, Chrom and Sumia. May you always be satisfied.”
In the hazy candlelight of the banquet hall, only Chrom could see the hollowness in Robin’s eyes and the lingering regret behind the cool smile as he raised his own glass, hand-in-hand with his bride, and he realized:
Robin would never be satisfied.
And neither would he.