The Plegian canditate for king had been pratically shaking in his anxiety. And who wouldn't be when they had red eyes burning into them throughout the entire conference, daring them to take a word out of step.

The new king was a Grimleal, it shouldn't have been surprising but it still unnerved Robin. It was made all the more ironic by the fact that Robin had to change clothes before the conference, he couldn't exactly waltz in while wearing the Eyes of Grima. It no longer matter what Grimleal was about, at least not what Validar had intended it to be. Plegia needed some sort of glue to hold itself together and if worshipping Grima fulfilled that role, Robin wouldn't begrudge it.

To be fair, Robin had kept a similar watch on Khan Flavia. The woman was a strong leader though she was more versed in the art of war than non-Feroxi diplomacy.

He had no reason to worry for Say'ri, he had met few people who were more level headed. He had a brief talk with her for the processions, and to his delight, they had been contemplating the same principles.

He had given his advice to both Flavia and Chrom beforehand. Robin had been told that he had a sort of dark look about him during the moments where he wouldn't tolerate joking. Apparently, this look had only gotten more defined recently. Just as well, he had illustrated one point above all:

To make reparations realistic. No sadistic clauses, nothing unreasonable. Robin knew that reparations were due, Plegia had taken the life of Ylisse's former exalt and the better part of Regna Ferox's army. But even so, if Flavia and Chrom went too far with punishment, it would do nothing but raise the chance of another war, one for revenge.

Despite all this, he was also there to make sure that Plegia accepted the terms. As a defeated nation, they had a very small range to negotiate.

Gold for losses and damages, and a portion of territory ceded to Regna Ferox. The treaty was signed by all the leaders present without too much conflict.

Robin couldn't resist giving Chrom the thumbs up once they were away from the crowd.

If some of his attributes had risen beyond human limits, then Robin's sword skill had ended up becoming compensation. He had always placed more claim as a mage than a swordsman, but this was just ridiculous. He didn't know if new muscle memory had ursurped his old habits, but whatever competancy with the blade that he had gained seemed to have flown straight out the window.

This couldn't have been more apparant in contrast to Chrom. He had a sneaking suspicion that the newly crowned Exalt had challenged him to a spar as retribution for all the paper work that Robin had forced him to stick to. Sometimes the endless stream of ink and political drawl could cut through even the strongest of convictions.

During the war, Robin had little time admire how far Chrom's swordplay had grown. But now, he was feeling the full effect, quite literally. Perhaps the reason he didn't notice was because they had always been fighting together, maybe it was the gradualism. But after spending a couple of weeks without the need to spar, the gap between where Chrom was when they first met and now seemed massive.

Robin could dodge most of the blows, but when the sword tip clipped him, it always stung. He kept stepping one way or another, weaving through the strikes, one foot leading the other. In a way, evasion maneuvers had always reminded him of dancing, a continuously flowing motion that should never be broken. But dodging seemed to be the only thing he could do along with the occasional block.

If Robin could find a way to lock Chorm's sword against his own, then he could easily overpower Chrom. But Chrom seemed to have remembered the incident with the twisted lance and avoided a power struggle, pulling away the moment his sword was blocked. So Robin was left with little option other than avoiding the rapid blows. He seemed to have lost the initiative to deliver his own attacks, even in the few occasions when he managed to break through Chrom's defense.
Robin knew full well what sort of tactic he wanted to use, the tactic that his body was screaming at him to use. Defend and create distance with the sword so he could step back and strike with magic. The simple forumula had taken down countless enemy soldiers and Risen.

But this was just a friendly spar, though if the paper work had anything to do with it then the friendliness would be one sided. They were moving at such a fast pace that Robin was just counting down the steps until his foot would catch on some miniscule rock and trip him up. Perhaps Sumia's clumsiness wasn't without reason after all.

As he imagined his impending meeting with the ground, he took his focus away from the spar. A sword point jabbed towards him. In alarm, Robin stepped back too far and fulfilled his own prophecy. He landed on the ground with a hollow thump, just managing to keep his head up. His instincts wanted him to roll away and scramble to his feet but he stayed still.

"I yield." Robin said quickly, holding up his hands in defeat.

"That wasn't so bad." Chrom said as he pulled Robin to his feet, though his rather impish grin betrayed him.

"Liar." Robin joked back as he brushed pieces of grass from his coat, "Looks like I wasted all of your lessons."

"Tell you what, I'll retrain you."

"In exchange for what? I sign all of your papers for the next month?"

"What would make you say that?"

"How much paper work do you want me to do?"

Chrom roughly slung his arm over Robin's shoulders, "Forget it. We'll get our chance to catch up. But for now, I'll be prefectly happy if you don't have to use a sword for a long time."

"What would you like me to call you?"

"I believe I will be keeping the name Robin. I will not abandon my old name but I can see no better way to start anew."

Robin smiled at Naga, it was the first time in thousands of years that he had offered her such a gesture. It wasn't a warm smile, or a welcoming one, it was just a smile. Nothing more than an invitation to disarm.

"Robin, I-" Naga started but Robin promptly cut her off.

"Let me have my say first. Then you can react how ever way you want."

When Naga nodded, Robin took a deep breath and set his voice as neutral as possible.

"I cannot forgive you, nothing in the world can replace even a single second in a lifetime. But for the sake of others beyond myself, I will learn to...disregard."

"Disregard?" Naga asked.

"Yes, I don't know what that will require now, but I will learn to do it none the less. You are not a goddess and I am not a god, we can't change the world as people would like us to." Robin replied.

Old feelings of anger and betrayal were still swirling around his mind, he doubted he would be rid of them any time soon. But he had to try to live apart from them.

"You intended to promote peace between dragons and humans, didn't you? Then come out of your temple once in a while, see what humans and manakete truly are. See your failures as well as your success. There aren't many dragons around anymore, you owe the ones that remain a good future. As do I."

Robin loved Ylisse's seasonal festivals. They were loud, colorful, and someone always ended waking up underneath the table once it was all over. A multitude of colorful lights lit up the palace's courtyard, many of them put in place by Robin himself with the aid of magic. People were dancing to music, eating, or simply chatting with friends. The scene of relaxed merriment was a far cry from a makeshift camp.

Robin was more than content with watching, the party was a feast for the eyes. The bonfire's warmth contrasted sharply with the cool night air, a combination of light and dark flickering over the floor and surrounding shrubbery.

So entranced was he by the enviornment, that he didn't notice someone sit down next to him on the bench.

"If you keep staring wide eyed, you'll start to look like an owl."

Robin broke out of his trance and looked to his left. It was so strange to see Lucina out of her "Marth clothing" that he didn't recognize her at first. She was sporting a sort of smile that he had never seen before, one of pure happiness with no strings attatched.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

"Absolutely." Robin said, "It's good that we can still have fun like this."

"Well then, why are you sitting here? Why not get in on the action?"

"I was just thinking."

Lucina punched him lightly on the shoulder, "I'm surprised your brain hasn't burned out by now. The war is over, you don't have to dissect every last occurance anymore."
She sighed, "I've been thinking a little bit myself. It seems like I'm not needed here anymore."

"Do you have any plans?" Robin asked, a tad surprised at her doubt.

"No, but I was wonder if I should leave Ylisse. I promised my father that I wouldn't intrude upon his life." Lucina said, a tinge of sadness flickering across her face.

"You know Chrom would never accept that." Robin said gently, "He doesn't care that you are from the future, or even that there is another version of you in this time line. He only sees you as his daughter."

"That's exactly what my father said." Lucina tried in vain to fight off a smile, "I do want to stay, and it's not like I have any where to go."

Robin nodded, it was almost frightening how closely he could sympathize with her. But there was no better place for Lucina to be at the moment.

Whatever the future held, he still had several milleniums ahead of him. He had already lived longer than most manakete, his life span stretched by his immense resevoir of magic. But time was relative after all.

This was what peace felt like, he was sure of it now.

Note: Well, that's that. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. You can be sure that there will be more Awakening fics from me, and especially more fics about Awakened!Robin. Thanks to everyone who read this story and a special thanks to everyone who reviewed.