Hello all! First off, I'm amazed you even opened this! Yarne was my absolute favorite character and I'm kind of surprised that not many other people adore him as much as I do, but I digress. This story has been SO much fun for me and I have decided to share it with anyone that wishes to read it. Please, if you enjoy this unfortunately short first chapter, then put this story on your alert list because I have no plans of giving it up until it is complete. Chapter 2, 4, and part of 5 are in the editing process (no idea why 3 isn't even started yet) and it is shaping up to be a true delight in my eyes. I look forward to sharing this story for any and all of those who wish to read it, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Mandatory disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Just the plot line is of my own creation.

Now, since this IS a fully fledged story, Robin/the avatar is a CHARACTER. She has a personality all her own and her name is Kinley. I hope you like getting to know her, and I'm sorry if it's annoying to some, but as I said, this is a story. As for the rating and contents, it is going to be T but with some language and humorous sexual themes, which means no youngins' allowed! Thank you for reading.

Onwards!

…

Chapter 1: In Which Yarne Believes He Is About To Die

Yarne wasn't competitive by nature.

Being the last surviving member of an entire race tended to put pressure on a guy to, well, stay alive. And staying alive usually involved no friendly (or otherwise) competitions of any sort, because if he were to fall while racing up that impossibly tall tree?

BOOM. Instant extinction.

And we couldn't have that now could we?

Nope!

It didn't matter if he was likely to win due to his inhuman speed and superb reflexes, he refused to compete or play any type of possibly dangerous games. While the rest of the army's men (and often a few of the women) attempted to prove they were the manliest of all men, Yarne preferred to sit back against a tree and watch the competitions from afar… in the safety and comfort of soft grass and cool shade and far away from pointy spears and strong fists. Which was how it should be! A Taguel never needlessly put themselves in danger, preferring a relaxing afternoon spent sunbathing with friends and a soothing cup of tea. Unfortunately, this trait seemed to be unique to Yarne amongst his friends since they all seemed to prefer bashing each other's heads in or, in Inigo's case, chasing after fair maidens who would much rather give him a black eye instead of the time of day.

But that was all well and good anyways, since he truly did relish his quiet afternoons lazing around and enjoying the painfully amusing show of brawn and deflated egos the army had to offer daily. Or at least, he used to enjoy them.

Until Kinley began to join him.

That's when things became complicated.

...…...

The first impression he ever had of Kinley was when she'd gone to swing a horrendously sharp blade at his head and she'd missed by only the barest of threads, leading Yarne to instantaneously give up on every notion of fleeing and instead fall to his knees to beg for his pathetic and despairingly minute bunny life.

He'd made an effort to completely avoid her ever since.

So the first time she joined him under a tree he found it rather awkward, having the army's star tactician and his almost-executioner sitting cross-legged in the grass not more than a foot away from him, striking up conversation with the graceful ease of a damn swan and smiling at him like she had not a care in the world. He had only been with the army for a week and she was so vastly different from how she was when they met on the battlefield that he wondered more than once whether she had multiple people living inside her head, although he was admittedly a little afraid to wonder that one aloud, lest it be true and ending up being fried alive as consequence.

Without letting his guard down, he continued to stare at the ground and plucked little blades of grass, weaving them together in a pattern he wasn't paying much attention to, as he listened to Kinley talk about what a beautiful day it was, how amazing it was that Cordelia and Sumia and even little Cynthia could fly high into the sky on such beautiful creatures and look so graceful and radiant, she herself was much too frightened of heights to ever attempt such a feat, and oh dear, did you see that uppercut Chrom got in? Vaike is certainly going to be one sore soldier tomorrow!

After a small chuckle on Vaike's behalf, her self-sustained chatter continued for a long while, causing Yarne to become somewhat curious about this eternally optimistic woman. Sometime during her commentator dialogue of the increasingly brutal match taking place between men nearby, she had shifted her position to stretch out in the grass and lie comfortably on her stomach, chin buoyed up between manicured fingers, and Yarne took the opportunity to inconspicuously study the peculiar woman before him. Her voice was soft and light, not at all like the gruff (and petrifying) tone she had used during their first encounter, though that wasn't entirely surprising considering back then she had been on a bloody rampage, not snoozing away under a tree like she was now. Besides her superhuman destructive power, the hair was what he thought most peculiar, flowing down her back and being a bleached white that bordered on silver shining in the sunlight. A humorous picture popped into his mind of one Kinley and a bloody Henry, playing hokey pokey with a group of equally bright-haired children obviously their own… On second thought, maybe that picture wasn't so humorous.

That pair would make for some downright terrifying children.

He had to suppress a shudder.

Yarne had never pegged himself as a shy Taguel, but with Kinley, the famous Ylissean tactician and insanely strong warrior, chatting him up like he was one of her best friends, he just did not have any clue what to say! What could she, one of the greatest magicians of the age with a near genius IQ, possibly have in common with him, a bunny soldier who would prefer to hide in a hole rather than actually fight?

And that train of thought was probably what led him to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

"Usually by now people start petting me."

Oh now he really wanted to go hide in a hole.

When her commentary went silent and she turned around to regard him, his cheeks flushed what felt to be a dark ruby and he was sure she was about to chop his head off with some sort of genius ninja bunny-roasting technique, but whatever he thought she would say or do, he wasn't exactly prepared for her to suddenly burst into a sidesplitting laughter so deep it was as if he had just told her the funniest joke in existence. And he may very well have, for over a minute later she remained clutching her sides and her laughter hadn't let up. He could see people from over by the tents beginning to stare at the two of them, no doubt amused by their tactician's infectious change of mood. Momentarily forgetting his grass weaving, Yarne snuck a glance at Kinley, only to be met by her own gaze beaming at him. She choked down the last of her giggles and unceremoniously wiped a fair amount of tears from her blue eyes before she reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

"Yarne," she said while obviously trying to hold back more giggles, "I think you are going to fit in just perfect here."

Eyes following her as she stood up and stretched her arms above her head, he thought he may have worn a rather stupid and dumbstruck look on his face. Though if he did she said nothing, only crouched down to fix him with one of her biggest grins and gently ruffle his hair with her palm.

And then she was gone, leaving a very confused and a slightly-more-cheerful-than-before Yarne in her wake.

Looking back, that was almost certainly where his whole problem began.