The Sixteen-Year Crush – Chapter Four

Robin released a sigh the moment she stepped out of her tent. The exchange was messier than she expected. Had she been too harsh? She hadn't expected the normally cheerful man to lash out like that. She hadn't expected herself to reply so harshly either. Sighing once more, she ran a hand through her hair. The whole ordeal was, she finally admitted, handled poorly. She knew he would be upset, but thought he would laugh it off like he always did. She clearly underestimated his reaction.

Yet, she stood fast by her decision. Though she didn't doubt his skill with a blade, proving faster than her even, she questioned his moral code. Her doubts only furthered when he had nearly let an enemy escape. Her head began to hurt then. Enough thinking, she thought. He would have to test his mettle against her when evening came.

Inigo paced the area outside the weapon's tent, nervous. He had already picked out a wooden sword for himself, and it sat leaning against the tent's tarp. He looked to the sky. The sun, though still burning, began to set as the sky darkened, revealing several lone stars. He wondered if he was too early, and whether she would appear.

As he waited, he thought to himself, wondering why he became so aggravated when she made such a decision. Then again, she hadn't consulted him about it, instead consulting his parents. She treated him like a child; he grimaced. He sighed; love was such complicated business.

He soon fell asleep. When he woke, the moon had already risen far into the sky, nearly three quarters across. Several campfires and torches were already lit and placed throughout the camp, crackling loudly. Inigo, after realizing the time, sighed in disappointment, muttering, "She didn't show." He chuckled wryly. What did he expect—he was no more than a dandy fool in her eyes.

He stood and dusted the dirt from his bottom. He may as well return to his tent for the night. Most everyone was asleep; he figured he should prepare for the march next morning. Stretching his sleep-wearied muscles, he began the short trek back to his tent. On his way, he noticed one tent was still alight with candle fire. It was Robin's. Curious, he made his way to the entrance. He called out, "Robin?" He heard neither immediate reply nor any movement. Lifting a flap, he peered inside the dimly lit space.

In the far corner she was slumped over her small cluttered desk, her cheek against the wood. In one hand she held an ink quill poised over a document. Dark ink droplets dotted the parchment from where the pen hovered. Her hair was nearly undone, spilling over the side of her shoulder. She wasn't wearing her coat; instead, it hung on the back of her chair. She was peacefully asleep.

"You'll catch cold," Inigo said, examining the state of her desk. She didn't stir. "You'll accidently set fire to your tent if you keep falling asleep like this," he remarked, noticing how dangerously close the candle was to the edge of the desk. The light accentuated the dark bags under her eyes, elongating the shadows. He pushed it inward.

"You shouldn't work yourself to the point of exhaustion; it'll be the death of you," he continued to himself in a low tone of voice. Her writing hand twitched before hanging limply. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Carefully, he took her coat in hand and gingerly placed it over her shoulders. After a second thought, he lifted the hood to cover a portion of her head.

The candle still burned—small, but still burning. He moved his hand to put out the fire when he glanced at the documents below her. They were maps and long strips of parchment with nearly illegible handwriting scribbled on them. The margins were decorated with text, some scratched out with ink, others circled and starred. They detailed the route of tomorrow's march, as well as the possible dangers for each one. Though he hadn't noticed before, she realized her other arm sat atop an opened book detailing basic strategies. The pages were similarly written on as well as dog-eared. He felt a pinch of guilt then. She truly was looking out for the Shepherd's well being, including his own. He wondered how many candles she burned through before retiring for the night—if she actually did so of her own will—and how many nights she slept at the edge of her seat slumped over a pile of papers.

He made his decision then. She was his tactician and he would become another sword guided by her hand. If she commanded him to be stowed away then so be it.

Robin woke with a startle when she heard the clash of steel. The voices, she recognized, belonged to Kjelle and Sully. Only those two would stand to be up so early in the morning training, besides Frederick. She groaned as she sat up properly, her coat falling behind her in a crumpled mess. Strange, she didn't recall ever moving her coat. Even her candle was half-used; she didn't remember putting it out. By now the wax should be nearly gone.

Her stomach groaned. Putting aside the issue of the candle and coat, she hefted herself up and unstuck papers that stuck to her arm due to sweat. She would organize her desk later; she was too hungry to care at the moment. Relief eased into her back as she stretched. She fixed her hair back into its high ponytail before settling into her coat once more. She yawned one last time before leaving her tent.

She blinked rapidly as the morning rays hit her head on. She narrowed her eyes and placed a hand over them. "Naga it's bright," she muttered.

She made her way to the mess tent, greeting several soldiers along the way. Today's breakfast consisted of herb soup and bread, courtesy of Libra. Gods bless that man, she thought. The soup was absolutely divine, perfect for her nagging headache.

"Good morning, Robin," Olivia greeted her quietly as she passed by. Lon'qu grunted the same. Robin smiled, greeting, "The same to you both." Only after the two had passed by did she realize a missing family unit: Inigo. She cursed herself, how could she have forgotten? Hurriedly, she drank the remains of her soup and tore into her bread with three bites. She had to meet him and apologize. With all the work she'd done the day prior, she'd forgotten her engagement with him.

She didn't see him in the mess tent nor did she find him in his tent. Where could that man be, she thought. It struck her as ironic; he'd usually be among the first to greet her. She pushed past the waking soldiers in her path, dodging the ones preparing for leave. The camp was bustling with activity in preparation for the march.

"Excuse me," she asked a passing female soldier. "Have you, by chance, seen Inigo today?"

The foot soldier snorted at the name—a name that lived in infamy among the female infantry. "I'd last seen him speaking to my colleagues by the weapons tent, Ma'am."

Robin thanked the soldier, shaking her head at the woman's response. Despite Inigo's efforts, it seemed opinion of him hadn't changed significantly. At least he was trying, she thought, remembering their encounter a few nights ago.

She found him sitting atop a crate caring for his weapon—well, in fact. The sword was hardly tarnished and there were no definite signs of wear. Though the man had questionable morals, Robin admitted he was rather versed when it came to weapons—he and Owain that was. He was alone, a perfect opportunity.

"Inigo," she called out to him. "About yesterday, I—"

"Good morning, Robin. I hope you slept well last night," he immediately interrupted. Her heart sank slightly then. Was he upset with her?

"Er—well, I suppose. Putting that aside, I wanted to apologize—"

"Fine day, isn't it? I'd say that some lemon tea would—"

"Yes, lemon tea is fine and all—but I'm not here to discuss tea. Rather—"

"Say no more, Robin." He raised a hand. "Perhaps you'd prefer dew or rose over lemon—"

"Inigo," she hissed, "will you let me finish?" He chuckled sheepishly, motioning his hand for her to continue. She sighed, willing her annoyance away. "I came to apologize for my absence in yesterday's duel. I hadn't thought I'd finish work so late, which was poor planning on my part, and for that I apologize. I hope you're not too upset with me. We could always reschedule—"

"Water under the bridge," he said, waving her away. "After thinking on it myself, I feel like a total… arse and that my reaction was perhaps a bit, er, dramatic." He coughed the latter. "Regardless, I've made a decision. If you find it fit for me to be removed from the battlefield, then I have little room to argue against the army's tactician, do I?" He grinned slightly then.

"Are you sure, Inigo?" She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Absolutely. I hope this clears the air between us."

"Oh, of course! I just—" She fumbled with her words, struggling with her thoughts. "—Thank you, Inigo," she finished, smiling slightly. Of course, she still felt guilty. "Although I feel this is a bit unfair…" she trailed off. "Might I suggest a compromise?"

"I'm listening."

"I'll allow you to continue fighting; however, you must always be within my sights and within a few feet." She paused, hesitating slightly. "Do you agree?"

He flushed slightly, grinning. "O-of course! I'll definitely prove my worth. Besides, what man in his right mind would disagree fighting besides a beautiful lady?"

She sighed inaudibly at the latter part of his statement. Typical Inigo, she thought; though, she was glad he seemed to be his old jovial self again. She laughed a little.

"Something funny?"

"No, I'm just a bit glad."

A/N: Hello dear readers. It's been more than two months—a pretty big delay. I just want to thank all of you who read this story and those of you who reviewed. You guys are pretty damn great.

With that being said, I totally did not notice Lon'Qu was in fact spelled as Lon'qu (thanks Cormag!). That was pretty embarrassing.

Anyway, during that two-month period, I replayed FE: A on Hard mode (lots of grinding). I actually unlocked all the children characters and switched up my pairings a bit. I married Inigo—his parents being Chrom and Olivia for stat purposes—and boy do I love it. He is adorable.

Moving on to the chapter: Robin's POV was included, I feel that I've been focusing a bit more on Inigo and she was a bit neglected in development.

Compromises! Inigo's a bit more mature and Robin's starting to see it.

Hopefully, my writing's improved. I've been trying to improve my dialogue and have it match the game's script, so sorry if it seems a bit awkward. Anyways, feedback is always appreciated and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.