A/N: Well, this is an old account I never thought I'd return to but the call of shipping is stronger than second-hand embarrassment. Anyway! This is a co-project between me and the wonderful Odekake, and of course neither of us own any of the settings or characters shown in this work.

With that said, let's begin!

It was not the Arena Ferox of his memories, this elevated platform at the center of a large pit, even if it shared much of the same design. The cheering crowd in the distance seemed to be farther away; their screams of excitement, in a way, hollow. Robin felt a bitter smile tugging at his lips. None of it was real, much like himself.

He turned to study his opponent, a young man by the name of Shulk who carried a large, strangely shaped red sword that looked much too heavy for its wielder. Shulk's attention was on the battlefield, an expression of awe on his face as he took in his surroundings. While he did not appear to be a great threat, Robin knew better than to underestimate the swordsman. Only those who were worthy were allowed in this outrealm.

The countdown sounding off in the background pulled Robin out of his reverie. He drew his weapons and was puzzled when Shulk didn't do the same, but he didn't have time to ponder the thought for long: the fight had begun. Robin made the first move, launching a ball of lightning at his foe. Shulk dodged the bolt easily and charged at Robin, gripping the sheath of his sword.

"Predictable," Robin muttered, raising his arms and releasing a pillar of flames to halt Shulk's advance. "Arcfire!"

Shulk gritted his teeth as he felt the flames singe his clothes and skin. He hadn't expected that – although in retrospect he should've been more wary of a tactician. When the flames dissipated, Shulk saw the glint of Robin's blade as it came down towards him. Drawing the Monado, he parried the strike and quickly rolled behind Robin.

"Back slash!" Shulk shouted, delivering a powerful blow to the other from behind before he could turn around.

Robin had a brief moment to admire the view of Arena Ferox from high up, but he knew that if he was knocked off the stage then the battle was over for him. It was supposed to be nothing more than a series of friendly exhibition matches so that the participants could become acquainted with everyone's fighting styles. But he and Shulk were the first up, and he did not want to be the first to lose. Robin reached into his cloak and withdrew one of his tomes.

"Elwind!" A green-colored gust shot out from his palms and propelled him into the air, enough for him to reach the ledge of the platform and pull himself up.

Safely back on solid ground, Robin and Shulk stared each other down – as if daring the other to make a move. Then, they both ran towards one another with their swords drawn. Shulk and Robin exchanged blows, neither outright dominating but slowly wearing the other down. Eventually, Robin was able to send Shulk flying to the other end of the stage. Putting as much distance between them as he could, Robin drew his strongest tome and took the opportunity to charge it. All he needed to do was bide his time and wait until he had the perfect shot.

However, he soon noticed something strange – his opponent standing motionless, eyes glazed over and expressionless. Robin wondered if he were ill, but quickly dismissed the thought. This was his chance, possibly his only chance.

"Thoron!" Robin called out, releasing a powerful lightning blast. The fast-moving bolt traveled across the stage at speeds that would surely be impossible to dodge. The match should have been over, so it was much to Robin's surprise when he felt a presence behind him. He didn't need to see to know who it was.

"I see it …" Shulk's voice was soft, almost trancelike in a way. Robin spun around, only managing to catch a glimpse of the blue glow that surrounded Shulk's feet, before the full force of the Monado's swing sent him flying out of the arena.

As the match was declared over and Arena Ferox faded from existence, Shulk and Robin were returned back to the control room. The other fighters had been in that very room as well, watching the battle. A few of them approached Shulk and congratulated him on his victory, but most whispered amongst themselves about the various techniques that Robin and Shulk had used. Lucina walked over to Robin and smiled at him, while her ancestor Marth merely observed them with a curious look.

"You did really well, Robin," she said. "I was so amazed watching the two of you fight!"

Robin tried to return her smile, but he was also disappointed with his loss. How was it that Shulk was able to avoid his last attack, and how had he failed to see it coming? As a man of strategy, Robin always prided himself in his ability to stay one step ahead of the enemy – to make sure that he knew the moves they would make before they even made them. But this Shulk had somehow seen through his plans; had turned the tables on him. All he could feel was the crushing sense of defeat.

He had failed as a tactician.

Robin stared at the open book in his hands, his eyes not truly seeing the words on the pages. His mind still lingered on his defeat the previous day; there was no reprieve from the embarrassment of being the first to lose. Even knowing that Lucina, too, had lost – and promptly sworn her opponent, a Captain Falcon, to be her rival – didn't ease his thoughts.

The frustration was painful to deal with, not that it existed but that it lasted. Couldn't he just get over it already? Apparently that was not the case, considering he was curled up in a ball of quiet self-loathing. But in his profession, defeat meant death - the bodies of his friends, his loved ones.

Here, defeat meant nothing. It was an odd quirk about this world. Arrows that would've been fatal in any other realm suddenly weren't. Blows that would've had him on the ground left him standing, and cleaves that would've split his chest into two he survived. In this world, he did not have to fight with the intent to kill, and it was an odd adjustment to make. How had others such as Link or Marth had managed in this world for so long, he wondered. And how were the other newcomers of this realm – such as Shulk – handling it?

Just then, he heard the sound of the door sliding open – a noise that pulled him from his stormy thoughts. Robin instinctively glanced towards the entrance, and then felt a rather unpleasant feeling take hold when he locked gazes with none other than Shulk. Quickly straightening up in his chair and returning to his book, Robin decided not to acknowledge the other's presence.

"Hello, Robin!" Shulk said, almost sounding cheerful for once. He had a voice that made even his jokes sound like serious statements.

He turned, closing the heavy library door behind him, before he strode over to where Robin sat, despite the latter clearly indicating that he wasn't in the mood to talk – or maybe social cues in Shulk's world were very different, as Robin had learned things unfortunately didn't quite work the same anymore. It was with a begrudging reluctance, a dull thud forming in his temple, that Robin figured he might as well be nice. So he sat up, closing the book on his fingers lightly to mark his place, one half of his mind filled with quiet resentment and the other half marking him as an adult with a child's emotions.

"We never got the chance to talk after our match," Shulk said, extending his hand to the other. "It's nice to meet you, Robin. You fought well."

"… Thanks." Robin shook Shulk's hand, although hesitantly, and took note of the sword attached to his back. It was held up by no sheath or strap, seemingly stuck there as if it had a mind of its own. "How –" he found himself asking, and when Shulk turned to him, a questioning look on his face, Robin simply shook his head. "Never mind. It's nothing. And besides … I'm not the one who won. That was you."

"That doesn't mean you didn't do your best," Shulk replied, giving Robin a fleeting but still pleasant smile. "It was a matter of luck, really. I'm surprised I beat you."

His statement didn't ease Robin's frustrations any. He chose not to respond and opened up his book to resume his reading. Shulk scratched the back of his head, aware of the tension that existed between them but not knowing how to defuse it. Robin was taking his loss a lot harder than Shulk would've thought he would. Sighing, he walked over to the other side of the library and studied the books on the shelves, finding nothing of interest. He then turned towards Robin, saying nothing but quietly observing, and leaned against the table behind him. The Monado bumped against the edge of the tabletop, with a dull yet resounding noise.

The world around him disappeared in an instant. Shulk stood motionless – a pale blue light aglow in his eyes, as if time had stopped for everyone except him. And then, just as soon as it had happened, it was over. Brought out of his trance, Shulk drew the Monado and ran straight towards Robin, ready to attack.

The tactician jumped up and dropped his book on the floor, reaching for the tome hidden in his cloak. "What do you think you're doing –!"

"Get down! Now!" Shulk leaped over Robin's barely launched thunder spell, used the chair behind him as a launching pad, and brought the Monado swinging down … at something – or someone – behind Robin. The figure let out an angry howl as it avoided the blow and stood in the clearing.

Robin's eyes went wide and the word was barely audible against his lips, but Shulk heard it as he passed. It was a word that had no meaning to him, something he had no personal connection to – but it haunted him all the same.

"Grimleal."

"Might I ask –" Shulk began, but the staggered foe had recovered his balanced and lunged, cutting him off. He ducked, rolling out of the way and behind the attacker, while they paused at his sudden disappearance.

Shulk saw his opportunity and he seized upon it, grabbing the enemy by the back of his neck and holding him up for Robin to attack. The name of a magic spell was called out, and then followed by a bright, hot light. The impact made Shulk stagger from its force, but did him no other harm. He tossed the foe aside and moved swiftly around the chair to reunite with Robin.

But Robin took a step back, away from him, pulling out his Levin Sword and shifting into a defensive stance. "There's another one …" he managed to say, the waver in his voice all too evident.

And just as those words were uttered, Shulk received yet another vision. He quickly spun around, holding the Monado out in front of him, and caught the assassin's blade just in time with his own. A second later, and he would've had been stabbed in the back. In this world, it was not possible to die during a controlled battle, but did the same hold true outside the tournament? Shulk wasn't about to find out. He pushed the assassin back and rejoined Robin with a single hop backwards.

"How can this be happening?" Robin said, to no one in particular. "Why are they here? How did they get here?"

"We can worry about that later!" Shulk replied. "For now, let's finish this!"

Robin shook the buzzing from his head and reached for his bronze sword, dashing around the chair and spinning in a circle. The blade cut into the enemy's side and with a gargled cry, they staggered. He stepped back for the finishing blow, but Shulk had taken care of it by the time he had righted himself. His weapon and lit up with a strange pulsing glow and he dashed forward, slicing into the skin and dropping them onto the ground.

"Well, that's the end of that," Shulk said, placing the Monado against his back and trying to swallow back the bile rising in his throat. In his world, it was unheard of for a Homs to kill another Homs. Even if these men weren't Homs and were explicitly out for blood, it still felt wrong. "But … how did they even get here?"

"This is bad," Robin muttered. He held his tome in a tight grip, his knuckles white and a tense expression on his face. "The Grimleal know where this place is … there could only be one reason they're here …"

"What are the Grimleal?" Shulk asked, thankful for a distraction. "You mentioned them earlier, but what exactly are they? Enemies of yours?"

"Enemies is … putting it lightly," Robin said, swiftly turning on his heel to leave the room. He couldn't look at the bodies anymore, he needed to regroup and plan before any other calamity occurred. Not to mention that he needed to warn everyone. "They're a force from my world, practitioners of a religion to an evil god … they're fanatical."

"And they want you?" Robin glanced over his shoulder to see Shulk striding along to match his pace. He hadn't expected the other to follow him, but since he was …

"… Yes," he said slowly. "They want me. I just … I don't understand how they got here …"

Shulk stopped him in his tracks with a hand, gripping tight onto his shoulder. He spun him around until they were face-to-face, pushing his sliding silver frames – which Robin noticed just then that he was wearing – back onto the bridge of his nose.

"One step at a time. First, let's find out if there's any more of them." Shulk released him then and strode forward, and this time it was Robin who had to scramble to catch up. "Can't go running around playing detective with a blade at your back!"

Robin was tense and stressed and unnerved, but Shulk made him crack a smile at that.

Lucina had taken the news just as well as Robin had expected, which was to say terribly. She had been in such a state that not even her revered ancestor could calm her down. The look in her eyes was all Robin needed to know that she wouldn't hesitate to cut him down if it would save Ylisse, even if it was not her own Ylisse. Even if neither of them truly belonged to any Ylisse.

He'd found himself spending more time around the others, not only in case Lucina raised her blade against him but also for protection against the Grimleal. It was almost certain that more of their cultists would come after him, now that they knew where he was. But he had also befriended more people than he would've ever talked to otherwise. It helped stave off the feeling of loneliness he'd been feeling since he'd first come to this world.

Shulk was also insistent on watching over him and had rarely left his side since that day. At first Robin hadn't known what to think about it, but he found that he wasn't displeased with the other's company. Shulk had proved himself to be a good friend. They had talked with one another often, and yet Robin hadn't properly thanked Shulk for thwarting the Grimleal. But more than that, there was something else about Shulk that Robin wanted to know.

"How did you know they were there?" Robin asked, drawing his sword and watching as Shulk did the same.

"What do you mean?" Shulk held the Monado in one hand, waiting for Robin to make the first move. The tactician had requested to join him in a training session, and Shulk hadn't refused. The two stood in a simulation room resembling the Gaur Plains, a place that was familiar to Shulk.

"The Grimleal. You knew that man was there before he attacked … or even showed himself." Robin charged at Shulk, bringing his sword down.

The other swordsman easily dodged the blow and rolled out of Robin's reach. "Ah, right …" He thrust the Monado forward, the laser extension of the blade knocking Robin back. "I have … visions. I can see the future."

"You sound so enthusiastic," Robin said with a laugh, staggering back to his feet and using his sword as a crutch. He swung the sword out to his right. "But really. That's … actually an amazing ability. Think of the tactical usage that has."

"My foresight has let me see into the would-be future, to prevent disaster." Shulk pushed off with his right leg and dashed forward to clash his sword against Robin's, only to be greeted with empty air as Robin sidestepped around him. For someone who was an oddly slow runner, his dodging was near impeccable. "But … as important my visions are, I've had to watch people I love die – over and over again. And all the people I couldn't save, even with my visions …"

Shaking off the sudden feelings of guilt, just as the tip of Robin's sword met his shoulder blade, Shulk readjusted his grip to better handle his own weapon. He swung his hand around behind him and loosened his grip, just enough to knock Robin's sword down.

"Oh, I … never thought of it that way," Robin mused, kicking at the Monado with his foot to free his sword, letting out a soft swear when his toes collided against it.

Shulk laughed and looked over his shoulder, just enough time for Robin to shove him in the back and send him stumbling forward. By the time he spun back around, the tactician had retrieved his sword again and had it held aloft, a little smirk of achievement dancing across his face.

"It's not something that I let my mind dwell upon," Shulk said, returning the expression and sheathing the Monado over his back. He sat down on the edge of the platform they were on. Robin did the same. "This power lets me change the future, for the better. To forge our own destiny."

"Change the future, huh?" Robin gave a soft laugh. "You remind me a bit of Chrom – my friend. He's Lucina's father."

"Her father, huh?" Shulk turned to him with a curious look. "How so?"

"There are two ways I could answer this," Robin deadpanned, with a pointed look.

Shulk merely blinked, propping his cheek up with the palm of his hand, before his blue eyes went wide and he smacked a hand against Robin's shoulder. "That's not what I meant!"

"I'm aware, I'm aware." Robin threw up his arms in a mocking sort of surrender.

"That does explain why you're so wise, however," Shulk said quietly. "Older friends tend to install their knowledge in you after a while."

"Older …?" Robin's eyebrows knit together as he tried to remember Chrom's age exactly – or, rather, while Chrom's age wasn't too difficult to pin down his own was a disaster. "Chrom's barely any older than I am, if that."

His statement gave Shulk a start, his head almost dropping out of his hand completely. He straightened himself swiftly, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose as if he were pushing up glasses that he wasn't wearing. "Wait. Wait, I – did you not just say he was Lucina's father."

"I did." The tactician tried not to make his amusement obvious.

"But Lucina is … your age."

"Yes."

"And her father is … your age."

"Yes."

He shot Robin a look out of the corner of his eye, his gaze filled with confusion and worry. Shulk inhaled sharply. "Robin," he began, his voice thin and concerned.

That was Robin's cue to start with the damage control. "I can explain," he said, turning himself around to fully face the other. "Lucina is … she's our age, yes, but she's not from the same timeline as I am. The Lucina you see arrived from the future, in order to prevent a catastrophic event from darkening the world – such as what she experienced. She returned to save us, basically." Robin watched Shulk's face carefully to see if he were processing the words. His expression hadn't changed in the slightest, however, and Robin had to rapidly blink away the bubbling discomfort that formed under his skin. "Are you following all right?"

"I-I'm quite all right," Shulk replied, although it was evident that he was struggling to process this information. "It's just quite strange to hear about … even after everything that I've seen." He paused for a moment, and then said, "Those men whom we fought in the library. They're the ones responsible for the catastrophic future Lucina came from?"

"Yes." Robin's expression darkened and he stared off into the distance. He barely noticed that night was falling on the Gaur Plains. "In Lucina's future, I … killed Chrom. And Grima was revived. I wasn't strong enough to resist the power they had over me. And … I don't want something like that to ever pass …"

"Hey." Shulk rose to his feet, a determined look in his eyes. "That won't happen, I'll make sure of it. The future is ours to decide. It doesn't belong to anyone else." He extended a hand to Robin, a smile replacing the resolve. "Come on, we should probably get back now."

Robin traced his gaze from the tips of the fingers, curling lightly in their impatience, up to the soft smile of the person offering. He was right, in every sense. The future was truly theirs to decide. As he had learned there, standing on ancient tiles and staring up at darkened skies, this was their future, yes, but they had the chance to fight it at every turn, make their own future.

He returned the smile and laced his fingers in between Shulk's own.

But if only, if only, Robin would find himself thinking some time later. If he TRULY had control over his future, he would have been able to stop.