Honestly not too happy with this. Difficult to get out. Props to my Chrom for giving me the needed boosts and RPs for this chapter. Hopefully after this, it's smooth sailing. Action scenes are not my thing.

"It's clearly a provocation—a hot brand to the buttocks!"

The camp was still for once. Frederick could hear the silent rustle of the foliage above them, mottled pretty with sunset colours. He could hear the silence, the sun high in the sky, shining and sending its beautiful warm rays towards the freezing ground below, the sweet crunching of the dead leaves underfoot. It was beautiful.

Too bad he was too distraught over what he couldn't hear.

Everyone was sitting quietly around the fire, mending, licking the wounds of the earlier skirmish. Lissa gripped her staff tightly as she mended a light gash above Sully's shoulder, the red-head's face in an eternal, irritated scowl, her husband Virion sharing the sentiment, albeit a bit more subtly, on his uncharacteristically stoic face.

"I'm going to murder him." Sully muttered darkly, her grip on her sword shaking with fury. "I'm going to kill him so dead."

"Don't bother. Chrom has already marked him. The pleasure of killing that bastard is reserved solely for my brother's selfish hands." Lissa muttered darkly, with the exact intensity on her voice as Sully's..

"Poor Captain…" Sumia whispered, voice quivering. "How could Walhart be so cruel to him…"

"Sumia, you soft-hearted fool! Tharja suddenly yelled, her presence downcast and shadowed by the trees over her head, but the heated anger in her eyes were evident. "Who gives a flying wyvern about Chrom?! He is here, safe and WITH US, and not in the hands of someone who has too many loose screws jangling about in his head. Who knows what my Robin is going through right now?! She could very well be dead." Tharja snarled, angrily—partly because of Sumia, but mostly because of the dark thoughts about the beloved tactician that swirled in the sorceress's head.

At the mere mention of Robin being dead, everyone's overworked balloon of suppressed emotions popped. All at once, they began to yell, to howl and to cry, as in Sumia's case. Not even Frederick the ever-calming force in the Ylissean army was able to hold back a string of curses. Only Chrom, who through it all did not utter a single word, was strangely bereft of emotion. For someone known for his brash passion, this was as strange as it gets and it set his Shepherds off more than any scream or swear ever could.

Not that they blamed him for being so quiet. He was probably shell-shocked that his wife, the military genius that she was, had been captured. Not only that, she was also the ruling partner of the Ylissean king, making her technically royalty by bond. She was the queen of Ylisse and everyone, Chrom included, never thought that she could be used as a liability against them, at least not as a prisoner of war. In wars, a captive is a bargaining tool. Depending on how important the captive is, the more inclined the opposition was to obey the captors, and with the title of being the King's consort, as well as a famed tactical expert in terms of war, Robin was a very valuable bargaining chip for Walhart. So powerful, in fact, that if it comes down to it, Chrom would surely surrender Ylisse for her.

That night at the Demon's Ingle had progressed well, at least until Say'ri broke formation and charged towards her brother, flying through the hot night air with the wings of confusion and anger propelling her. Everyone had their eyes on their designated enemies, and only Robin had noticed Say'ri's disappearance. Following the swordmistress, she was suddenly confronted by a horde of Risen, crawling out of the magma, forcing her into a collapsing rock bridge, successfully isolating her on a lone islet surrounded by liquid fire. Her comrades noticed too late. She was surrounded by at least thirty molten Risens. She tried to hold off until the flying units came for her, but to no avail. The Shepherds could only look on in horror as Excellus appeared behind her, a Thunder tome in hand.

"Robin! Look out!" Chrom screamed all too late, his heart beating loudly against his ears; his wife, in mortal danger.

Amidst the confusion, she did not notice the bastard behind her until he grabbed her by the neck and proceeded to electrocute the tactician. His maniacal laughter increased in volume and mirth as Robin twitched wildly in place, eyes opened wide as she produced a blood curdling scream. The sadistic sage laughed merrily and did not stop until her eyes rolled back and she collapsed into a heap at his feet.

"Kyahaha! Foolish child, look what you have done!" Say'ri forced herself to tear her gaze away from her brother's bleeding form, cradled in her arms, his head lowered as if shamed, his eyes drooping dangerously. Death was imminent for him. They may have been foes, but to her, he was still family. He was still her big brother.

"Wow, what a day! Such a lovely haul for little ol' me!" He grinned as he held the unconscious figure of the Shepherds' tactician, her clothes frayed and charred, still slightly crackling with energy.

"No…what have I done?" Say'ri, with tears in her eyes, whispered, her grief etched into every word that came out of her trembling mouth.

"And Yen'Fay, how long will you still be breathing? Do you feel deep pride swelling in your chest as your very own beloved sister, the one you have risked so much to protect, cut you down?" Yen'Fey did not reply, and by the look of his clouded eyes, he will never utter another word ever again.

"Y-you! You loathsome toad! I will cut you!" Say'ri screamed, her bottled up emotions exploding at the bitter realisation that she has, indeed, compromised Robin by letting her heart rule over her mind. This was war, and emotions have no real place within it, yet now, as she screamed at the top of her lungs, she knew that she was letting her emotions get a hold of her again.

"Shut up, you wretch. I could have broken your pretty little neck if I wanted to!" Excellus snapped, face contorting in repulse. "Before you met these Ylisseans, I could have had your head with a word. In Chon'sin, at Valm Harbor...Did you really think yourself so elusive? You were my leverage for Yen'fay. Unwitting and unbound, but a hostage all the same. I let you live; he fought for us. That was our deal. And he kept his end, right TO his end! Hah! What a death! What a martyr he was, and all for the same little sister that killed him! Bwaha!"

"Y-you lie!" The Chon'sin Princess could only whisper in horror, her grip around her brother beginning to shake wildly.

"Oh, did Yen'fay not groan out the truth as you slayed him? No, I suppose not. He always was so quiet. And proud...honourable, I think they call it? Yet he swallowed his pride and cast aside his honour...all to protect his beloved kin. That's right, Little Sis. He did it...to save you." Excellius lapped up the look of despair on the princess's face. It was beautifully priceless.

"And you, Chrom, for shame! The most valuable piece in your army, taken by the enemy! Have you always been so careless?" Excellus grinned malevolently, touching her pale skin to provoke the Ylissean king, successfully eliciting a roar of anger from her husband.

"Is she not beautiful? I've always wanted to have such a pretty porcelain doll to play with. Kekekeh!"

It took Frederick, Cordelia and Kellam's combined strength to restrain the prince, struggling and crying against the hold of his soldiers. The rest could only gape, unable to move lest a Thoron spell, or a hand axe thrown in frustration might accidentally injure Robin.

"Let her go, you monster!" Chrom howled, seriously thinking of chopping off the arms and hands that restrained him.

Ignoring the blue haired man, the sage continued to touch her, marvelling at flawlessness of her skin, and wondering how a woman in the middle of a war could maintain such an ethereal complexion. "I'm sure Walhart would enjoy playing with his new toy… Oooh! Speaking of, I'll have to go, little ones. Darling Robin and I have a tea party with the Conqueror himself. See you soon, you hear?"

Cackling, Excellus warped out of sight.

Chrom then proceeded to deface a nearby rock with his Falchion.

He lost her.

She was right there, beside him, covering his back like he did hers, and they took out those blasted turn-cloaks together.

How could he have not noticed her leave his side? How could he have been so occupied? This was war, and if you do not pay attention to your surroundings, you're better off dead. Had it been a risen behind him instead, he would have been dead now.

Gods, how he wanted to take her place—anything to ensure that she was safe. He would do anything to get her back, and this sitting around and 'strategizing', as Miriel had put it ever so lightly, was not accomplishing much. In fact, looking around him, everyone seemed to be running about with their heads cut off. They were too enraged, too sad, and much too emotional to have a normal discussion with — much less strategize.

There was no argument that everyone was partial to the tactician. Sure, she was stubborn, prone to throwing things, and more often than not sarcastic, but she was also kind and did everything she could to ensure that at the end of the day, all of her friends and comrades survived, even if that meant that she would be the one that bore the most injuries. Her comrades always came before her, in an almost heroic fashion, which irritated Chrom so much more than any other trait of hers. That woman really needed to develop a sense of self-preservation but he'd scold her when she returned, safe and sound.

If she returned alive.

"I cannot take this any longer." Chrom suddenly said among the chaos around him. No one paid him much mind, each too busy indulging their emotions, save for Lissa, who was mending a particularly nasty gash on the prince's shoulder. He stood up, earning an irritated click of the tongue from his sister. He grabbed Falchion, his favoured blade, as well as a spare silver sword from the weapons tent, strapped on his armours and began to leave the camp site.

A hand fell gently upon his shoulders.

"Milord… I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to proceed with what you're planning," Frederick seemed to have noticed the Exalt leaving the campground or perhaps his 'Chrom's off to get killed, what an idiot he is' alarm went off. Either way, it would seem as if the knight has finally resolved his inner conflict and has returned to his normal state of mind. No point in brooding over it.

"Please sit back down and let Milady fix you up more." The knight's voice normally convinced Chrom to take a moment of reflection. Today, however, his anger would not be quelled so easily.

"We're useless here, Frederick, surely you see that? We're doing absolutely nothing, all the while that demon could be committing atrocities—to the Ylissean queen no less! No matter the risk, we need to get back Robin!"

"You're wrong, milord. We can't simply let you walk to your death. You're still needed; by Robin, by all of us here, and by your whole country. You can ill afford to risk your life like this."

"…Dammit! I never should have brought her along! She should have just stayed with Lucina, safe! It's my fault this happened to her, and it's up to me to rescue her!" Chrom was going a mile a minute.

"Frederick, find any Shepherds who are willing to come with me."

"Milord… What would Robin do in this situation?" Frederick beseeched, hoping that in mentioning the tactician's name, his captain and ruler would somehow mirror her calm wisdom in the midst of trouble. He was wrong.

"She wouldn't waste this much time, that's for sure." Chrom angrily replied, unnecessarily yelling at the knight before him. In his mind of minds, he knew that what Frederick was saying was only out of concern for him, but it nonetheless infuriated him. This lack of action was frustrating.

"She would make her time count. We have time, milord. Robin is a high profile hostage, and Walhart won't dare harm her. We have the time now to think this through and properly make him pay."

"What makes you think that monster plays by your rules? She could be in danger right now! You stay here and plan for all I care. I'm going to go rip his head off."

"This war is only one of many troubles our kingdom is facing… If you should fall, Ylisse has no one. You would be putting her in grave danger by leaving on your own."

"Then come with me, Frederick. Please, ensure that her king and her queen are returned." Chrom tried to reason with Frederick, however, the knight was just as known for his unfaltering resolve as he was for his wariness.

"My one duty here is to ensure that your headstrong ideals don't get the better of you. You need to wake up and realize that your life is no longer your own! You can't throw it away in one selfish, careless act, Chrom!"

"Forget your duty here for one second! Your king is talking to you right here and now! Don't make me pull rank on you!"

The camp was rendered silent by a single sound. It was swift, yet it echoed across all the ears of those that were previously too busy with themselves. Everyone's eyes were on the knight and his charge. Frederick had slapped him.

"…My apologies, milord…" He muttered lowly, ashamed almost. Chrom glowered at him. "Phila told me that the quickest way to get a soldier to snap out of his fury was to give him a swift slap across the cheeks."

"Frederick… I can't believe she's gone… What if we can't rescue her?"

"With you as our leader, I know we will. All I ask is that we map out our plan of attack."

"Just make this quick."