XXX
The arrow whipped past his head as the tactician ducked out of the way. A bolt of fire careened across the field to strike the archer who had fired said arrow shortly thereafter. Things on this battlefield were disintegrating quickly.
The Shepherds had been caught off-guard on their advance to silence the Mad King, ambushed by a pocket of Gangrel's forces who had diverted from their line at the capital, and who had all at once crashed into the Shepherds absent any warning, much to their strategist's chagrin: he should have anticipated an ambush so close to the Plegian capital, but he had been running so many other scenarios in his mind. Chrom had been little help, still mostly sulking and mute at the loss of his sister, but that was only reasonable. Unfortunately, it created a distinct strategic disadvantage when one couldn't speak to one's own captain for advice on direction. Without the steady hand and voice of the prince, the Shepherds had only cautiously and slowly trudged their small caravan along in an effort to escape the danger and bring their purpose to fruition. They were already several members richer since they had first taken aim at Gangrel, and since Emmeryn had dropped to her death, all of them helpful and strong in their own rights.
Everything had been going so well up to now. Now Robin leapt as an axe swung down and planted itself in the dirt beside him. He kicked its owner instinctively, causing the warrior to release his grip and fall, where he was put down by the tactician's sword.
"Robin!" he heard Frederick's voice boom from across the battlefield, "More archers are approaching and setting up!"
He cursed to himself: today was nothing but bad news. "Get Cordelia and Sumia back, now!" commanded the tactician.
"Just what I was planning!" replied the knight. Robin was thankful for that. Frederick was stubborn at times, but smart enough to see the entirety of Robin's strategy and not to ask questions in high-tension situations.
"Oy, Mister Robin," called out an aging mercenary, a new recruit, "Where Gregor is to be going next?"
"Keep Nowi safe, like before," he nodded to the taller man, "and if you see Ricken, tell him we need his wind tomes up front."
"Gregor has it," assented the mercenary, dashing off to obey the order.
A plume of purple mist and smoke shot up in Robin's face, blinding him and causing him to cough relentlessly into his sleeve, hiding his searing eyes. When he looked up as it subsided, he found a Plegian myrmidon downed at his feet, the last bit of life ebbing from his increasingly pale cheeks. "Watch yourself, Robin," instructed the typically monotone dark mage Tharja, "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"Much obliged, but they need you to the east!" the tactician commanded.
"I'm not going to sit on my hands and watch you get hurt protecting any of them," she refused.
"To hell with me!" scoffed the young man, eyes burning, "They'll die! If you want to make me happy, go protect them!"
She glared at him a moment, then frowned uneasily, "Don't even think about dying before I get back to you."
"Go!" he insisted. Suddenly, the tactician was alerted to the sound of swords rattling on belts, causing him to turn to their source: two figures trotted up to him, one more slowly than the other. "Gaius, Anna," he breathed, "tell me you have good news."
Anna shook her head and presented Gaius, a smear of blood painting his pant leg, "One of their axe-wielders got the drop on us. ...Robin, there's a lot of them out there..."
"They're lickin' us good, Bubbles!" Gaius groaned, "Don't you have some kinda contingency plan?"
"I'm... working on it," he stuttered, "Did you see Libra?" Anna and Gaius shook their heads in unison. "Dammit!" Robin struck his palm with his fist, "and no word from Sully or Stahl, either...!"
"Where the hell's Blue?" demanded the thief, holding his injured leg.
"I don't know," the tactician declared plainly, grave in his voice.
"Agh!" they heard a woman cry.
"That's Miriel! Go see to her, quickly!" their strategist ordered.
"Aye aye, boss," Anna hurried off.
"Gaius," Robin halted the thief before he could move, "don't try to force it. Stay here, and take one of my extra vulneraries."
Gaius accepted the medicine and slapped the viscous liquid onto his wound. The burning caused him to wince, but he settled quickly as the healing began. "Place is the really goin' to hell in a hand basket, eh Bubbles?"
"We could be doing a lot better," he agreed tersely, "Stay here; I have to catch up with Vaike and Kellam, and see how Cordelia and Sumia are holding up."
"And what if they break through?" the ginger-haired thief clutched his leg again.
Robin tossed him a small dagger, "Pick your arse up and get out of here before things get worse."
"If anyone can turn this around, it's you, Bubbles," Gaius added more seriously.
"I appreciate it, but it doesn't mean anything if we don't live through this fight," Robin passed him by, hurrying along the line.
He caught up to Anna before long; their movement was nearly equal on the uneven ground, and he grabbed her shoulder to get her attention. She was holding onto a collapsed Miriel, "She got a nasty cut in her shoulder. Looks like she passed out from shock, and lucky for her, 'cause the dastard what did it seemed to think she was dead. I took care of him."
"Nicely done," he praised, "start healing her."
"Way ahead of you," she shook her staff.
"Did you see Kellam or Vaike?" wondered the clearly distressed tactician.
"No, sorry, I focused straight on Miriel," the merchant replied.
"It's fine, that's what I wanted. Keep an eye on Gaius if you get her fixed up," issued Robin as he continued on.
"You got it!" she saluted him as he passed.
"Robin!" expressed a relieved voice. Kellam's bruised face was waiting for the tactician as he reached the front of the line. "They saw me," relayed the surprised knight, "My armor kept me safe, for the most part, but some of those crazy barbarians jumped me and just started pummeling me with their bare fists!"
"Not to be callous, but you're not seriously injured, then?" demanded Robin.
"No, sir," answered the knight.
"Then I'll ask you to keep holding here. Where's Vaike?" Robin pressed on.
"He took off after some rather petulant swordsmen," Kellam recalled.
The tactician's eyes widened, "That moron! Son of a-" He rushed off in a cloud of dust before his sentence could be finished.
Frederick sped in front of him before he could discover Vaike's whereabouts. "Robin, I have a report," Frederick asserted firmly.
"Let's here it, then," Robin stood impatiently.
"I did as you commanded, however, both Cordelia and Sumia were injured in the oncoming wave of archers. Their mounts are absent, and they have both suffered injuries that make them incapable of fighting, consistent with having fallen from some distance in the air."
"I see. Were they moved?" Robin asked.
"Naturally," the knight captain bowed, "but, if I may, we are losing ground and manpower quickly."
"I've noticed," the tactician grunted, "Find Stahl, Sully, and Tharja and ask them to pull back. We'll have to organize a retreat."
"That seems wise," Robin could now observe the sweat on the great knight's face, "I'll ride at once."
Robin continued off further onto his units' own flank to search for Vaike, combing every inch of the ground, now whipping up into dozens of tiny dust storms, with his eyes. The odd enemy cavalier or mercenary leapt out at him, but the tactician's laser determination kept him from being distracted; anyone foolhardy enough to put himself in front of the young tactician's path heard a muffled chant and the frankly terrifying, birdlike chirp of lightning as it screamed across the arid air and struck them into convulsions of the most intense pain.
"I am not... accustomed... to fighting... in such climates," an echoing, mature voice complained between labored breaths.
"Do I look like a wildlife expert?" grunted her partner, followed by the sound of a falling body and a sickening splash, "Breathe deep and stay focused, that's all I can tell you."
"Lon'qu," Robin panted, taking to his side, "You seem to be holding up well."
The Feroxi swordsman smirked, "You didn't think a few thieves and sellswords popping out of their holes would he enough to harry me, did you?"
"You're certainly not the type to be caught with his pants down," the tactician concurred, mostly to himself.
"The man-spawn is lying, tactician," reported the taguel beside him with a twitch of her whiskers, "he seeks to conceal his injury for the betterment of the group."
"Mind your own business, you overgrown she-rodent," Lon'qu grimaced at her.
"Lon'qu, if you're hurt, fall back," commanded Robin, "We aren't going to be able to hold out like this for very long."
The swordsman gritted his teeth, then sighed in defeat, "Fine. I still have one good arm and leg, though."
"Lon'qu," the tactician leered at him expectantly.
"I'm going," he shook his head, "...just not very quickly."
"I will carry you, man-spawn," offered Panne, "my back is a very comfortable ride for humans."
"Y-You? Forget it," the myrmidon stuttered, "I'd sooner take my chances with the enemy!"
"There's no time for this, Lon'qu!" Robin urged, "Thanks for volunteering, Panne, now, giddyap!"
In one fluid motion, the taguel shoved her head underneath the swordsman's rear and hoisted him onto her back, eliciting no less than two panicked yelps. She carried him off at breakneck pace despite an apparent limp on her left leg.
[...]
"Just sit still, Gaius!" chided the blonde.
"Get your mitts offa me, princess! Help some o' the others, the ones who need it!" he insisted.
"You need it, you big dunce!" she refrained from punching him, "and Maribelle's too upset to even look at you." Gaius glanced over: it was true, the Shepherds' other token healer was doing her best not to look in the thief's direction, staring intently at her staff and current patient and straining her eyes to ensure he wasn't caught in her peripheral vision.
"Hurry up," Gaius changed his mind. Lissa huffed and concentrated back on her staff.
"Lady Anna... could you, perhaps, use your staff for this operation?" Virion bit his lip and tugged at his cravat.
"Nope," she sighed, grabbing his shoulder firmly, "the only thing to do is to pop it back into place." With a forceful and drawn-out shove, Anna heard the bone do just that, as it stuck itself back into the socket. Virion wailed much like a whale grieving for its lost mate might, that is, if a wifeless whale would wail. Anna chuckled briefly to herself, then sobered straight away: the two pegasus knights were still in trouble.
"Donny... where are you?" Lissa mewled as she continued to work on Gaius's leg.
"He'll make it, Princess," the thief placed his hand on her shoulder as she kneeled, "Potluck ain't much for looks, but he's got gusto to spare. He's a helluva fighter."
"Quit eavesdropping," she ignored him and continued working.
"Is it really eavesdropping if you're talking to yourself?" the ginger-haired thief shrugged.
Anna looked about the tent as she pulled Cordelia over. This was looking... bad.
[...]
"Hey... R-Robin..." wheezed Vaike, blood trailing down the multiple lacerations that marred every square inch of his exposed chest, "You're late to the party... but it's okay... Teach won't give you a tardy just this once."
"Vaike, what the hell were you thinking?!" shouted the tactician, "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times not to go after swordsmen! Oh, what's the use, just start falling back, as quick as you can!"
"That," Vaike wiped his nose, "I can do. I beat those stupid myrmidons, anyway, you big jerk."
"Less bleating, more retreating," ordered Robin with a wave of his hand. As Vaike obeyed, Robin sighed to himself. Things were progressing, at least. The Shepherds were in a full retreat and untis were returning to a safe position: with ample speed they could cull their losses at simply being forced to back down, far more acceptable in the mind of the tactician than any casualty. Still, one wondered where Chrom had disappeared to at that moment. Robin shook the thought out of his head, he had to focus on rescuing everyone before things got any worse. Sully, Stahl, Donny, Nowi, Gregor, Tharja, and Libra were all still fighting at the Shepherds' remaining flank, and they needed to be told to give up that ghost quickly. With that thought in mind, Robin made his way along the outskirts of the initial site of the ambush, swiping down a few more enemy mages and infantrymen in the meantime.
It didn't take long to find them: Donny had his back to a boulder and was saved in the nick of time by Sully's lance when an axe-wielded approached him, but Sully was soon tossed from her steed by an axe thrown from elsewhere. Stahl turned his sword to meet the group that approached her as she recovered. Several feet-but no further-away, Gregor shouldered several attacks from the harder-hitting bruisers among the enemy ranks as Nowi, breathing heavily even in her dragon form, spit and sniped at targets below her as she beat her wings frantically to keep out of harm's way. All the while, Tharja stood on a crag, keeping her promise and opening the occasional terrifying black void in the middle of the ambushers' ranks.
The tactician entered the scene by blowing away a line of barbarians who were taking aim at Sully. "Get her back on that horse and get out! Donny too!" he barked at Stahl.
"On it!" he nodded with determination, allowing Sully to pull herself up by his shoulders. If Robin had paid attention, he might have noticed a genuine smile on Sully's face that lasted only an instant. When she recovered and was back in the saddle, the redheaded cavalier scooped up the young villager by the scruff of his neck and loaded him onto the horse's rear, spurring it on immediately afterward. "Don't take too long!" Stahl advised Robin as he did the same with his own means of conveyance.
"Urgh," Gregor grunted, "Is beginning to feel like battle fought up against hill." Blood seeped down his forehead and made pools of stains on several spots on his plain shirt and only slightly padded armor.
"Nowi, take Gregor out of there! I've got you covered!" Robin ordered, sending an approaching wave of Plegians sky-high with a ripping current of wind. As Nowi affirmed her compliance, gently wrapping her claws around the mercenary's shoulders, Robin glanced up, "Tharja, with me!" She took one look and nodded. A line of Plegian archers took aim at the escaping dragon and her passenger, but were suddenly blinded by a trail of flame that rose from the earth before them. Suddenly, a gust of wind turned the column of fire into a raging firestorm that swept over the unsuspecting archers in a wave of fevered crying and screaming.
"Ooh, that was a good one," Tharja cackled, flipping her hair and sounding positively ravished.
"Mercenaries!" her companion directed her.
"Yeah, yeah," she leafed through the tome in her hands. As the swordsmen charged forward, they were drawn to a halt by puddles of purplish gas emerging from the ground that anchored their feet in place. Most screamed helplessly as bolts of electricity zigzagged between them and scorched their flesh ash-black.
The dark mage sniffed the air, "Ooh... their panic is so delicious...! Hee hee hee! And the fact that I get to inflict this terror with you, Robin... This is a real dream scenario. Or nightmare, depending on who you're asking."
"Sure," he looked deflated, "It's been a gas. I need you to start falling back, Tharja."
She covered her breast with her palm in surprise, "Why? Taking all the fun for yourself? That's no fair..."
"No, I want you to be safe," he shook his head.
"I can handle myself against a couple of backward grunt-level goons," the dark mage grunted, mildly insulted.
"I'm sure, but not against significantly more than a couple," the tactician continued, "Just go back to the camp, Tharja. I don't want you to get hurt. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to our new recruit."
"You're... worried about me?" she blushed. When Robin reasserted the sentiment, she hid her face, "All right, I'll go... but... just don't die."
All right, Robin swallowed, finally able to take a breath, now he only needed to extract himself. That would prove easier said than done, as the stragglers of the ambush proved no less vicious than its vanguard, making for a fatiguing struggle against scores of myrmidons and cavaliers who had hidden in the rear to put the final nail in the surprise attack's coffin, or so the tactician assumed. As Robin knocked one rider down with a burst of flame and ducked out of the way of a myrmidon's slash, he fell headlong into the wind of a mage, which carried him into the butt of another rider's spear. Grimacing and holding the sides of his head, Robin stood and lamented his luck as the swarming foe seemed to only continue to grow in number.
As if on cue, however, a line of steel ripped through the collapsing wall of troops, and a streak of red leapt in to back them up. "Anna?" the tactician recognized, "What are you doing? This is dangerous!"
"Saving you, genius!" she retorted, taking a swing at some of the advancing infantry.
"I'm not going to let you die!" he struck down a myrmidon aiming for her back.
"That's my line!" she did the same to an archer who was skulking around the outer limits of their self-imposed arena.
"I mean it!" he chastised, "Outta the way!"
"Ditto, short stuff!" she smirked, flipping over his head just for show and landing fluidly into a strike on a charging cavalier.
"Watch it!" he tossed a fireball and sent an axe-wielded sputtering to the ground not more than six inches from her.
They both panted as the enemy encircled them. "Maybe, in retrospect, this wasn't the best plan," the merchant rubbed her neck between breaths.
"Well, we're stuck now," huffed Robin.
Anna bowed her head and smiled again, "Oh, well... I always figured it'd go down kinda like this in my line of work. Half as long, twice as bright, as they say. Want to at least go out with a little bang, tactician-boy?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way," each faced the other, gripping tightly the hilts of their swords. With a final exchange of eye contact, they sprang forward:
"Checkmate!"
"Sold!"
"Robin, Anna, let's go!"
Both settled back on the ground, stumbling awkwardly in surprise at the voice. The Ylissean prince had cut through the eclipse of Plegian might. "Come on!" he beckoned, "If we run now, we can still make it!" Neither of the pair hesitated to follow him out of the squabble.
"What... got you... up and moving?" his tactician breathed as they hurried off.
"I realize I made a mistake... I won't let that happen again," he clenched his fist, "Taking a little time to think, I know what my role is now. I'm sorry for having forgotten it."
"Luckily," Robin smirked, "You arrived just before my threshold for forgiveness disappeared.
[...]
The redheaded merchant carefully adjusted the tie in her hair, ensuring her ponytail was at just the right angle. It was a difficult touch to notice in the azure moonlight, but such precision was what made her a pro. After a momentary self-pat-on-the-back, she quietly stepped forward, drawing ever closer to her target, then, very delicately lowering herself across from him... perfect. He still hadn't noticed, or, at least, he was pretending not to have noticed. Seeing him continue to stare blankly, she spoke up, "Things, uh, got pretty intense out there, huh?"
"No kidding," he half-shrugged, continuing his staring contest with the moon.
"I'm sorry for disobeying orders, but I'm not the most compliant of sorts," she noted.
"I got that sense," he smiled back at her, "but you don't need to apologize; you used your best judgment. That's all I can ask for in a soldier. If I wanted a bunch of simpletons who took orders without so much as a thought, well... Suffice it to say I wouldn't want that."
"Good, because you won't be getting it," the redhead chuckled. "I wanted to thank you for saving my bacon."
"I was going to say the same thing," he shrugged, "Well, not exactly, but, er... the point I wanted to make is that I barely know you, and you stuck out your neck for me, for all of us, like that. You'd think a merchant wouldn't be big on self-endangerment."
"Maybe I'm just not as mercenary as I ought to be," she supposed with a smile, "You care to cough up?"
The tactician chuckled, "Sorry, I'm flat broke."
"Wasting my time, then," quipped the redhead in reply. She turned her head back and the pair sat in silence as the wind lifted and ruffled their hair, "What are you sitting out here for, anyway?"
"No reason," he insisted, "just... thinking."
The merchant paused and looked back at him, cocking her eyebrow, "You can't hide anything from me, tactician-boy, I know that type of tone of voice. That's 'I have something to say but I don't want to say it so that I can sound all mysterious' voice."
"Not too mysterious," Anna noticed his hand tense and grip the ground beneath him, "I just... today hasn't really gone my way."
Anna didn't need him to tell her that, half the camp was in the medical tent as of this evening. Their grunts and groans of pain were still audible as the Shepherds struggled to find their way into sleep despite the horrific ambush early in the day. She would never say it to him, but today had been an outright disaster. "You're looking pretty composed, considering," she mused, "but, then, you're always breathing easy... it's like nothing ever gets to you."
Caught up in her consideration, Anna almost missed the tactician produce a feverish sniff. She turned her head in his direction as he hung his own, apparently trying to avert her eyes. "A lot of us almost died today," he said with the gravest of voices, seemingly impossible with the strained look on the part of his face that could be observed.
"You... you can't dwell on it, right?" the merchant shrugged. She really didn't have much advice to give on dealing with tactical failures.
"You're right," he dragged his sleeve across his face, "I... I can't falter. I have to seem... strong..."
The redhead tried to glance under his hair, hearing his voice waver wih the last word. "Seem?" she repeated inquisitively.
"I... uh..." he sputtered meaninglessly a moment, "Oh, gods... I can't... I'm a failure..."
"Easy, tactician-boy," she put an arm over his shoulder, "I don't think I've ever seen you this down."
"Something about tonight," Robin finally collected his thoughts, "I just... everything's been hitting me at once: our company's almost dead, I couldn't fight or recognize the ambush, I'm out here without anyone, unlike all the others, and I just... just..." The coherence seeped out of his voice as his eyes watered.
"Hiding behind walls of strength," Anna nodded knowingly, "I know about that all too well. People put up all kinds of fronts, but you'll never get anywhere hiding how you really feel."
As if suspicious of something, Robin glanced up into the merchant's fiery scarlet eyes, then stared back down, "I think it's only struck me with the camp this empty... Heh, maybe I shouldn't give myself time to think."
"I think you need a good night's rest," commented the merchant.
"Are you kidding? I haven't been able to sleep for days," he submitted half-jokingly.
"And how's that working out for you?" quipped Anna.
He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I honestly can't get to sleep, it's like I can't ever be calm, I just keep thinking about what's going to happen the next day and what our supplies are like and who needs extra training and how much medicine we have and whether or not our weapons are in good enough condition and if the horses need food and what our rations look like..." The tactician gathered himself, "I'm sorry, I must sound like a raving lunatic."
"You do," Anna nodded without hesitation.
"Thanks," he replied flatly. Robin sat in silence and stared at the redhead a moment longer before rubbing his neck, "I was thinking a little bit about that chat we had in my tent..."
"You were thinking about me?" Anna giggled, "I hope I'm not going to regret hearing this."
"N-Nothing like that," he blushed, "I just mean... you seem like pleasant company."
The merchant's head bobbed up and she cocked an eyebrow, "Beg pardon? That's a new one."
"I just mean... I enjoy talking to you, Anna. I feel like you and I could be... you know, friends," he fed her a weak smile.
Perhaps because of the sheer ridiculousness of the statement, the redhead felt herself compelled to smile, too, "Sure, why not?"
"And, Anna," he went on, wringing his hands.
"Hm?" her scarlet eyes watched him carefully.
The tactician moved his hand to his hair, "I find myself... troubled frequently, and it makes getting through the night difficult sometimes... but, as of late, I find that's no longer the case. I think of you, and then, everything just seems so... peaceful. There's a great warmth in my chest, and all my worries just seem to fade away as I drift into sleep. I don't know why that is, but I find it appropriate to thank you for it."
Anna had mastered the displaying of her emotions long ago, or so she thought. Somehow, with a few meager words, this nutjob tactician had her blushing like a schoolgirl, "Uh, I'm glad you feel that way, I guess."
"I'm sorry," he clasped his hands together, "was that strange to say?"
"No," she refuted, trying to work the warmth out of her cheeks. It wasn't strange at all. The truth was, she had found her thoughts lingering on the strange young man more often than she had ever been preoccupied with anyone or anything else, even gold, which was saying something. She wanted to know more about the stranger, what he thought, where he was from, what interested him... but she could never say any of that, she would sound insane! And maybe this was all some sort of trap!
"Well, I suppose I'll turn in, try to find some rest amid my nightly harrowing," the young man chuckled at her.
Okay, it wasn't a trap, she felt her heart melt. Even if it was a trap, she didn't care, but she would still need to he cautious and tactful in her approach: how could she learn more about the tactician without revealing her intent. An idea snapped into her mind, "You know, if you like the idea, we don't have to make the other night our only chat. Maybe I can visit you in your tent some nights and we can just shoot the breeze, you and me. Maybe it'll help you ease your mind on those tougher nights."
"I'd like that," Robin smiled.
"And it'd give me a chance to see where your head's at, especially at night. And you and I can back-and-forth a little like we did, and you can put another big smile on my face and... um..." the merchant caught herself.
"What was that last bit?" the tactician stopped playing with his hair.
She brushed her hands down her shirt, "Nothing, I lost my train of thought."
When she said nothing more, Robin let out one more sigh, then stood, "Well, time to see if I can surpass my restlessness another night. Maybe I'll think of how radiant you look in the moonlight."
A bit surprised with herself, Anna took advantage of the moment and stood, inserting herself close to the tactician's breast and pressing her mouth against his, surprised at the automatic warmth and tenderness that appeared to exude from both of them. After a few impassioned, irrational seconds, the redheaded merchant pulled her lips away from his slowly, "Does that make you feel a little more tranquil?"
He rubbed his lips confusedly, "Strangely, yes. Why did you do that?"
"See, when a girl likes a guy-"
"I know that," he rolled his eyes, "I mean, why me, specifically?"
"You needed it," Anna shrugged.
"So... what if I needed it again?" he blushed.
The merchant smirked at him, "Don't push your luck, kiddo. You're cute in a helpless little brother kinda way, that's all."
"But you did seem to imply that you liked me," he caught on, smirking.
"Maybe I was teasing," she tapped his nose playfully, "either way, you'll never know."
Robin was irked, but couldn't find a reply. Instead, the tactician simply watched dumbly as merchant sashayed away into the dark of night. He was compelled to speak to her again. She had a pleasant honesty about her, a mystery that begged to be explored, and, frankly, he conceded to himself that he found her teasing immensely attractive.
[*]
"...and in a way, that was the best and worst night of my life," the former tactician concluded with a stroke of his chin as his wife set down the cupful of steaming-hot tea on the coffee table before him.
"You sure do seem to know just the right moment to kiss dad, mom," Morgan reported, snowflakes still sitting on her cloak. The snow had started off slow, but when the family had woken up the next day, an entire blanket of the icy-cold powder had awaited them, and still more snow fell even as they spoke. Robin grimaced vaguely at the blizzard and sipped delicately from the cup.
"Call me a romantic," the merchant smiled proudly, "I wouldn't be much of a saleswoman if I didn't know how to get to people."
"Yeah," her husband snickered, "you got me with the oldest trick in the book: falling in love with me. I bet you can't do it again."
"Maybe I've just been putting you on all this time," she sat down in his lap and tugged at his cheek.
"Worth it," the former tactician smiled in reply.
"It's colder out there than I thought," Morgan observed absently, speaking to no one in particular, "it made me kind of hungry, too."
"Morgan," her father chuckled, "I say this with all the love in my heart: is there anything that doesn't make you hungry?" She giggled in reply.
"Speaking of," Anna pushed herself carefully off of her husband and onto the floor, "I think Steven will be wanting his breakfast pretty soon."
"It's just as well," Robin sipped his tea, "I have to go speak with Chrom."
"In this weather?" his wife stuck out her tongue, "Can't he give you a day's rest?"
"He's given me rest enough," Robin replied dutifully, "Plus, the poor man's helpless without me, Anna."
"That's true enough," she folded her arms, "I just wish you could hang around and keep warm."
"Me too," Robin sighed, "but it shouldn't take very long."
"Yeah, yeah," Anna whimpered, "Go 'head and leave me."
"I really can't stay," he breathed.
"But baby, it's cold outside," Anna rebutted.
"Look, this morning's been nice," he began, "but Chrom will start to worry."
"Really, honey," she winked at him, "what's your hurry?"
"What would he think if I ended up being late, huh?" demanded the former tactician.
"What do you care?" his wife smiled.
Robin took another sip of tea, then set the cup down, "What did you put in that?"
"Just a little something to keep you warm out there," the merchant teased.
"Look, I'm sorry, but my answer's 'no,'" Robin declared with finality.
"Fine," Anna shooed him out with her hand, "Catch pneumonia and die, I don't care."
"I'll be back before long," he assured her before he shut the door behind him.
The redhead waited and listened to the footsteps trail off for a few minutes before she stood at attention, "All right, Morgan, help me out for a moment, and then I've got another story to tell you."
"Oh, great!" her eyes lit up, "What do you need?"
"I'm wrapping a little gift for your father, a book he hasn't shut up about since it was published. I just need you to hold it in place while I fold up the paper," her mother explained.
"Oh, how sweet!" the smaller redhead fawned, "You guys act more like a couple of starry-eyed long-distance lovebirds rather than a husband and wife."
"Are you saying a husband and wife perform fewer gestures for each other than long-distance lovers?" Anna chuckled, "Because we've already talked about how familiarity factors into liking."
"Right," Morgan paused and changed her mind.
"Hold this string with your index finger, okay?" Anna instructed.
"Got it," the smaller redhead watched the glossy red ribbon be pulled down and curled before it was righted. Her mother slid a card beneath the fancy tie.
"How's that for packaging?" the merchant pridefully admired her handiwork.
"What's the story, mom?" Morgan demanded, sitting down on the sofa where she had previously been resting.
"Oh, right," the redheaded merchant flopped down into her husband's favorite armchair, "you see..."
[*]
"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods," the tactician clutched each side of his head, "Dammit! Where did it go?!"
"Looking for something, Robin?" called Stahl from the other end of he room, "I don't think I've ever seen you so stressed out."
Robin looked to each side, then stepped up to the cavalier carefully.
He was cut off, "Hello there, lover."
"Ah!" his eyes jumped open in surprise, "Good morning to you, gorgeous."
"Sorry, Stahl," she sidled up to Robin and wrapped around his arm flirtatiously, "I know we must he so annoying acting all lovey-dovey, but I just can't keep my hands off my new hubby now that he's all mine."
"It's no skin off my nose," chuckled the viridian knight, "just don't be doing anything lewd outside your bedchambers, or, at least, be discreet if you do."
"No trouble," Anna pecked her husband's cheek, "I've gotta go open up the store, okay, sweetie?"
"Sure thing, hon," he smiled genially, "I'll drop by as soon as I get a chance."
"Don't be long," she instructed before sliding her hands down her legs languidly, "I can only do so much waiting." Robin blushed and his new wife giggled at his discomfort, "Seriously, though, I'll get bored if you don't hurry, and then you'll be in for it."
"Understood," he nodded, only slightly more relieved, "see you, honey." They kissed quickly and the redhead made off for the streets of the capital.
"Did you need something before, Robin?" Stahl asked after the merchant was a few minutes out the door.
The tactician was sweating, "Stahl, you've got to help me, I somehow lost my wedding ring!"
"Lost it?" the cavalier scratched his forehead, "Well, that's not too bad. Where was the last place you remember wearing it?"
"My bedchambers, but I already turned that whole place upside-down," he sighed defeatedly.
"Well, a second pair of eyes never hurt anyone," Stahl supposed, "Let me have a look."
"Be my guest," Robin followed him upstairs. The cavalier began to comb the room, working it like a grid of smaller areas, searching behind bookshelves and dressers, thoroughly inspecting window-wells, and dropping to his knees to search under the bed and lone chair in the room.
Slowly, the viridian knight pulled something out from beneath the bed, "I think I found something out of place; it feels round."
Robin's eyes widened, then fell as the cavalier held up the item. Stahl blushed as he held the triangular garment suspended between his hands. "Uh, you probably felt the bear's tail," the tactician rubbed his neck, staring at the smallclothes, "...that's her favorite pair. She'll be glad we didn't lose them..."
Stahl carefully tucked away the unmentionables, then continued to glance about the room, finding a lamp resting awkwardly on the page of a book. Mostly out of sheer curiosity, he lifted the lamp. No ring, but he scanned the text quickly, finding the title first: "Lucky Sevens: The Catharsis Staff?"
"That was a joint purchase!" Robin writhed, "I... Anna was getting really fidgety one night and-"
"That'll do, thanks," Stahl shook his head, "Well, you're right about one thing: I don't see a ring anywhere."
"Argh," Robin refocused himself, "where could I have left it?"
"Did you check your pockets?" suggested the cavalier.
"Naturally," the tactician shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak just to be safe.
The knight tapped his finger on his forehead, "Maybe it slipped off at supper, or at a meeting sometime?"
"I doubt it, but I have no other leads," Robin supposed. The pair wandered back down the stairs and began to examine the dining hall and the meeting room Robin frequented alongside Chrom, where they turned up precious little.
As Robin began to panic more and more intensely with each passing moment, Stahl finally found something that caught his eye. "Look here," he commanded, "There's a mark on the floor here that's angled, but in the shape of a semi-circle, and there's a fleck of something gold nearby, as if something gold and ring-shaped was trod upon here."
"Huh," Robin observed simply, "Good pickup."
"There's a trail here, too, rubber something from someone's boots," Stahl continued, "like they skidded on the floor. If we can find more of this residue, we can map out an exact trail, and maybe your ring will be at the end of it."
"Wow, your perception and deduction are impressive, Stahl," the tactician admitted.
"I've always had a knack for finding stuff other's can't see. My mom wanted me to work as an investigator for the magistrate at one time," he explained.
The pair continued on the case, detecting all the smallest hints of blackish residue they could find and following its pattern as best they could until, eventually, they realized it fed back into Robin and Anna's bedchambers. "Damn," the tactician lamented, "it must have been my own boots. We're back to square one."
"Stahl, what'n the sam hell are you doing?" demanded an authoritative voice from the doorway.
"Oh, hey Sully," he perked his head up, "I was helping Robin look for something he lost."
"Whad'ya lose?" she glanced at the tactician.
He swallowed hard, "...My wedding ring."
"You lost your wedding ring, you tactless dummy?!" Sully railed.
"Not so loud!" the tactician pleaded, "Yes, and I'm feeling awful about it"
"As well you should! Do you have any idea how broken up Anna's going to be about that?!" the redheaded cavalier stomped her foot.
"Yes, so help me look!" demanded Robin.
"Nuh-uh," she shook her head, "You made your bed, you can sleep in it."
"Aw, don't be so harsh, Sully," requested her husband.
She cut him down with a glare, "Stahl, unless you're aiming to see what happens when I get angry, you'd better hurry along."
"Yes ma'am," he bolted up, "sorryrobinhatetodothisbutyoureonyourown!"
"Perfect," the tactician sat indelicately upon his bed. He stared longingly at one of his wife's outfits, slightly stuck out of the closet from all the others, "Oh, Anna... I'm so sorry... what am I going to do? I don't want her to think I'm so callous as to just forget where I put it; I know it was on my finger just last night... but I also know it didn't fall under the bed or in between the blankets, pillows, or sheets, so where could it have gone?"
"What's with the long face, Bubbles?" called a voice from the doorway.
"Gaius, what are you doing here?" the tactician glanced up.
He hesitated, "Uh, NOT stealing some of those cookies downstairs."
Robin shook his head, "Whatever. Do you think you could help me? I can't find my wedding ring."
The ginger-haired thief smirked as he shoved a lollipop between his teeth, "You're in luck. Retrievals are no trouble, but it's going to cost ya."
"I'll see what I can get my hands on if you find the ring," Robin tapped his foot.
"No dice. Payment up front," demanded Gaius.
"I've got a jar of jellied citrus fruit Anna couldn't find a buyer for. Consider it a deposit," the tactician promised, handing over the jar.
Gaius yanked off the lid and dipped two fingers inside, proceeding to lick them clean, "Mm... not too shabby, Bubbles. Now, let's find that ring of yours." The thief began with a quick scan of the room: "Picked clean. Can't be in here." He said nothing to his employer as he marched down the staircase, taking a whiff of the air. Seeming to notice something, he bent down to a chair in the sitting room of the castle. The ginger-haired man took his time feeling out the chair, apparently trying to sense something from it. Robin rolled his eyes as Gaius stood back up and continued in a different random direction.
[...]
"Gaius," Robin took hold of the thief's shoulder, "You've been looking for over an hour now, and this is about the eighth time you've come back to the door. Can you at least tell me what it is you're searching for?"
"Uh, well, y'see Bubbles, this here carpet has a lot of special fibers that, uh," Gaius tugged at his collar. Suddenly, the door cracked open and Anna's trademark red outfit peeked out from behind it. "Welllookslikeyourescrewedseeyouround!" The ginger-haired thief tore off out of the nearest castle window.
Anna watched perplexedly as he leapt, "Uh, was that Gaius?"
"He's always up to something since the war ended," Robin shrugged nonchalantly, "We need to find him a hobby."
"Amen," the merchant nodded, "but what gives? You always visit before my lunch break, and you don't seem particularly busy."
"Oh," he rubbed his neck, "that's easy, I was just... um... Chrom was, uh... we were, we were..."
"I'm glad I married such an awful liar," Anna folded her arms, "Spit it out: what's up?"
Robin sighed and hung his head, "I can't lie to you, Anna... I lost the wedding ring you gave me."
"You lost it?" she scowled, "Robin! That was a sign of my affection! A very cheaply obtained sign, but a sign no less!"
"I know, and I feel just terrible about it," he put his hands up.
"Did you really lose it, or did you just hide it so you could court some of the help?" his wife demanded angrily.
"What?!" the tactician recoiled, "No, nothing of the sort!"
"You know you owe me some big-time favors for this, right?" she leered at her husband impatiently.
He sighed resignedly, "Of course. What can I do for you?"
"My feet have been begging for a good wash and rub for the past week," the redhead tapped her finger on her chin.
"You say that almost like you had it ready beforehand," her husband grimaced.
Anna shrugged, "I was going to make you do it anyway, but now I have a justification." The tactician acquiesced, prompting the merchant to loosen her boots as she climbed the stairs, kicking them off at the doorway to their bedchambers and leaving only her stockings underneath.
"Want me to take your shirt?" her husband offered, "It's hotter than the underside of a wyvern's scales out there, and I can see the sweat spots on it."
"Rude," the redheaded merchant chided him, "No, I'll hold on to it. You don't deserve the reward of seeing me shirtless."
"Just trying to help," the tactician shrugged, "It wouldn't take but a minute."
"Well, I said 'no,' so forget about it," Anna huffed.
Robin's brow shifted, "What are you getting all defensive about?"
"I dunno what you're on about," Anna peeled off her stockings, "Just get that water ready."
"Whatever you say," he shrugged as she walked by him, "Gotcha!"
"Ack! Robin, what the hell?!" she screamed as the tactician seized her.
"I may be a crappy liar, but you're not much better," he grinned, moving his hand fitfully around her shirt.
"Lemme go, you perv! I'm gonna break your arm in half if you touch me any more!" the merchant growled.
"Ah, and what have we here?" a pleased smile developed on her husband's face as he reached for the center of his wife's chest, just below her neck.
"Stick your hands anywhere near there and I'll bite 'em off myself," the redhead snarled.
"Really, Anna," Robin blushed slightly as he slid his finger down her shirt and towed the line of her cleavage, finding his target and pulling it out quickly, "isn't this sort of hiding spot a little juvenile?"
Anna covered her chest protectively as she broke away, but her eyes widened as she saw her husband pinching his missing wedding ring between his index finger and thumb, "Well, uh, what a coinky-dink... how did that get in there?"
"You were gonna force me to wash your feet for this?!" he barked, "I went through some real emotional trauma because I thought I had really lost something meaningful to you and to me!"
"Now, let's not get all hot under the collar," the redhead wrung her hands.
"I've got a chore for you, you nasty little thief!" her husband scowled.
"Eep!" she leapt up, shoving past him to get through the doorway. He chased after her angrily, leading to a day full of very confused onlookers, panting, yelling, and eventual forgiveness, all culminating in the ultimate bewilderment of Chrom, who for about the thousandth time, prayed for just one normal day in the presence of those two.
[*]
"I don't get it," Morgan declared simply, "why did you tell me a story like that?"
"I guess my point is, no matter how old we get, I want you to remember that your mom and dad are basically both still kids at heart."
"Blushing schoolkids, at that, if dad's story holds any weight," the smaller redhead added.
"We've had quite the history, that's for sure, and I'm glad you were here to be a part of it, Morgan," her mother smiled.
"Aw, mom," her daughter smiled in kind, "You'll rot both our teeth, getting so mushy."
"Sorry, mom's in a mushy mood today," the merchant chuckled, stretching out and yawning.
"I'm back," declared a familiar voice, pulling down his hood, which was coated in snow, "What's going on?"
"Oh, not much," his wife replied lazily as the fire crackled, "I was just telling Morgan another little story."
"Which one?" he wondered, setting his coat aside.
"The lost wedding ring," she grinned, knowing how it would make him feel.
"Finally revealing your underhandedness to your daughter, eh?" the former tactician snickered.
The merchant stuck out her tongue, "Still bitter about it, huh?"
"Don't give me that," he discouraged, walking over to her, "See? I come bearing gifts."
"Oh, Robin... this is... this is my mother's locket," her eyes began to water. She had thought it lost after the burial.
"I know. I looked up and down for it, and I finally got a contact to nail it down. It wasn't easy, and I was stuck on wondering when to give it to you, but I figured the sooner the better, in this case. So, uh, happy two-and-a-half-year anniversary, I guess," Robin smiled weakly.
"Oh, thank you," she said softly as she hugged him tightly. He sat down his armchair and she hopped into his lap. Eventually, when she was done expressing gratitude, she sniffled into a laugh, "It's funny, I planned on giving you a little gift today, too, given how dour the cold is making things, but it just looks like a bribe by comparison." The merchant held out the book in the hand that wasn't caressing her husband's icy neck.
"What? Are you kidding?" Robin smiled incredulously, "This is that history of Roy, the son of Marquess Eliwood of Pherae! I've been looking for it everywhere! I'm amazed you found it!"
"You'd be surprised what a merchant can do when she sets her mind to something," she said coyly as they shared a kiss.
"You make me feel like a jerk, not having any presents," Morgan plodded over to them both.
"Not at all, Morgan," her father assured her.
"Your being here is enough," added her mother.
"You know, this is nice," Robin settled himself, "Sharing stories and a few gifts, letting the warmth of our love shut out the cold... we should do this more often."
"That was awfully corny, but I'm on board," his wife pressed her face into his chest.
"Group hug!" Morgan shouted as she leapt onto both of them.
And that was the story of how a man without memory met a snarky, conceited woman with a mysterious heart, and how they shared their feelings in what could only be described as the most insane and backwards method imaginable. But that never troubled either one of them, as it became increasingly clear that they shaped and fed into the personalities of one another. By whatever bizarre or even frankly miraculous means, these two perfect strangers who met under the most unlikely of circumstances fell head-first into finding a way toward each other's heart, and became a perfect match. And neither one of them, regardless of forgotten past lives nor fading memories of the liberty of the open road, could ever recall missing much about the days that had gone past, of the days before they had found one another, for that truly became all that they saw. A shame, too. What good is a merchant with no regard for gold or a tactician who can't keep his eyes focused on the battle? None to anyone... except each other, of course. And they would frequently remark that that was the way they liked it.
[*]
"Ah, but that was all very long ago," concluded the old man, stroking the salt-and-pepper hairs of his beard. Beneath him, a dignified-looking you man with silver hair, a huddling boy and girl in matching cloaks, and a small redhead who was currently sporting her father's cloak as a blanket all huddled by the crackling fire.
"You're wearing your poor father out," said an older woman's voice as her footsteps echoed down the hall, "Why don't you kids get up to bed?"
"Yes, mother," the silver-haired young man complied, leading his siblings obeisantly upstairs. The small redheaded girl took a moment to pause and smile at the older man in the worn-out chair.
"Good night, my darling," he whispered to her before pecking her on the forehead. She clutched her teddy bear affectionately in response and then followed her older brother up the stairs quickly.
"It's quite a life we lead," the redheaded woman put her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"I wouldn't trade it," he told the empty house.
"You and I authored enough stories to keep those kids entertained for a decade, didn't we?" she laughed as she hugged him.
"Certainly, but they're more than just stories," he noted.
"How do you mean?" his wife indulged him.
"Each memory we keep, of the life we've shared... we wind a little narrative with each passing day, and that narrative is a novel bound by love and affection. To preserve one of those memories... I take it and present it as a token of my affection to you, that by recounting the story of our love, I can in some small way repay you for all the happiness you've given me."
The redheaded woman smiled faintly as she stared up at her husband, not daring to make a sound as the spiking of the fire played shadows upon his face.
"Robin?"
"Yes, Anna?"
"That was really cheesy."
[AN] Whew! This has been a hell of a thing. It's been amazing to write this story and to see how I have changed as a person and a writer in doing it all. My very first foray into fanfiction was just a little dip of the toe; I never expected much of anything to come from it, but with the advent of this story, seeing how beloved it became, and how enjoyable it has been to write, well... over 40,000 views, eighty reviews and over 90 follows and favorites later, suffice it to say that writing has become more of an institution in my life altogether, and it's because of all of you, more than anyone.
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Thanks again to everyone who so much as looked at this little pet project! If you have any interest in telling me where you'd like my writing to go next, leave me a review, a private message, or take a look at the poll I have on my profile. Otherwise, for now, and, perhaps, if this was the only story of mine you enjoyed, forever, adieu.
I need to get some sleep.