A/N: This story is a collection of one-shots, written when I should be studying, about different Robins in different universes. Between each chapter, the personality/appearance/gender/lives of each Robin will vary. Some may make recurring appearances, some may not. Most of these will be focused on Chrom's dynamic with each Robin.
"I have an idea," Robin said, bouncing up and down slightly.
"Great," Chrom said absently. "Don't do it again." A tiny voice in the back of his mind wondered if he had always been this sarcastic, or whether it was the result of some desperate defense mechanism against his tactician's questionable state of mind.
"No, really," Robin said, looking put out. "It's a good idea."
"That's what you said right before you led Stahl and Cordelia into a twisted suicide run straight into a pack of Risen," Chrom commented. He took a sip of his coffee as he stared at the stack of reports in front of him. Ylisstol was a beautiful city and would always hold a special place in his heart. He cherished every moment he spent in the capital and missed it sorely when he was camping under the stars with the Shepherds. At the same time, he was actually considering packing up and leaving early if it meant he would never have to fill out paperwork ever again.
Perching like a bird on the windowsill next to Chrom's desk, Robin glanced down at the report Chrom had been laboring over for the past half an hour. "You spelled 'inconvenienced' wrong in the sixth paragraph," the tactician said cheerfully, twirling a strand of white hair around one pale finger. "Remember it's I before E except after C."
Sighing inwardly, Chrom slashed a line of ink through the offending word. The leader of the Shepherds, brought so low.
"Anyway, so I was thinking," Robin continued, and Chrom heard the absent-minded drumming of fingers on stone as his tactician thought furiously. "I was thinking—Lissa and Henry would make great battle partners, wouldn't they?"
There was a ripping sound as Chrom's quill tore through parchment. "What?" he sputtered.
"'Cause Henry is great at blowing things up, right?" Robin babbled, either blissfully unaware of or deliberately ignoring Chrom's growing expression of horror. "But he's still kinda squishy. So I thought if Lissa tagged along she could heal him and make sure he didn't kick it—"
"Absolutely not," Chrom snapped. Henry was, in theory, a valuable member of the Shepherds and a powerful fighter, and Chrom was perfectly fine with that as long as Henry stayed far, far away from him and especially his sister.
"Fine," Robin muttered. Chrom tried to fix the sprawling tear in the parchment. It was a lost cause.
"Oh!" Robin exclaimed. "What about Gaius?"
"Nonono," Chrom moaned, crumpling up the report. He'd have to write it all over again.
"Virion?"
Chrom threw the paper ball at Robin, who evaded it neatly. "No!"
Robin fell silent, frowning.
Chrom fished for a relatively uncrumpled sheet of parchment. "Kellam?" he suggested.
"Who?" Robin sounded bewildered.
"Kell–am," Chrom enunciated slowly. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about him."
"I did not," Robin sniffed. "How dare you insult me with such an egregious accusation? A good tactician always keeps tabs on every soldier in the army."
"Egregious. Big words," Chrom muttered. No, he definitely hadn't been this sarcastic in the years B.R. (before Robin).
"That could work out," Robin said, grinning suddenly. "Hey hey, you're not bad at this tactics stuff. Maybe we should swap jobs or something. Like, you be the tactician and I'll be the Exalt. I'll wear your weird cloak and tear my right sleeve off and everything!"
Despite himself, Chrom bit back at a laugh at the thought of Robin the Exalt, sitting in council meetings, presiding over ceremonies, and wreaking beautiful mayhem on the court nobles. "That'd be something," he commented.
Robin perked up. "Is that a yes?"
"In your dreams."
"Aww."
A/N: As much as I love writing Robin in a completely gender neutral way, it's really darn hard.