Chapter 1 – Broken Ties
There were no windows in her cell, and only the light of the bolted torches pushed back the shadows around her. The cold metal of the shackles chafed at her wrists and ankles, biting deeply into her flesh. Her dimeritium bindings gave a faint glow as they stopped the magic from leaving her body, preventing from casting any spell that could help her escape.
Not like she had the will to try.
Robin had lost count of the amount of time she had spent in this cell. Was it the same cell? She remembered small glimpses of movement―a boat, maybe? ― but she couldn't get a clear memory due to the cloudiness in her head. The meager rations of food and water she received every day did little to help. The former Grandmaster of Ylisse's body was beaten and her spirit broke. She didn't know why she bothered to draw another breath every passing second.
Things hadn't always been like this for her. Only a few weeks –months? – back she had been sharing meals and stories with her then-comrades. The people she had protected for years of blood and sweat, whom she shared so much of her new life.
The very same people that turned against her.
The Shepherds hadn't even bothered to listen to her when she had pleaded with them. Robin had never wanted the cursed blood that flowed through her veins. Why couldn't they believe she would never have given Validar the Fire Emblem if she had control of her own free will?
But it didn't matter to them. As soon as the future princess had told them of the betrayer, she had been chief suspect. When Validar took control of her and forced her to steal the Fire Emblem, they hadn't wasted any time putting her in chains and locking her up, cementing the destruction of their bonds.
Stahl, Lissa, and Olivia had averted their gazes when she was marched by in chains, offering no support or words of comfort. Virion and Sumia, who had helped her so much and been her closest confidants, instantly turned their backs on her and stood with the rest. Those devout to Naga desired her head on a spike while calling her every slanderous name and slur they could think of, only kept at bay from physical violence and punishment by fear.
Would her death result in the increase of the power of Future Grima? Did both of them have to be killed at the same time? Only pragmatism and paranoia had spared her life this long.
The surviving children despised her utterly, for they saw her as the source of their misery and loss. Only four of them remained, the others lost to the Risen and her future counterpart's machinations. The suffering they endured only served to fuel the hatred and rejection coming from their parents.
And yet it was Lucina the one that hurts the most, for she was living proof that the owner of her heart would never be hers.
Frederick felt vindicated on his past suspicions. It honestly didn't surprise her when he stated he should have killed her in that field so long ago. Seizing the role of tactician from her, the knight took tactical command and led the Shepherds through the skirmishes from Plegia to Mount Prism and back. However, his zeal and hatred did not translate to tactical talent, only recklessness and death. Poor choices and orders had led to many of her erstwhile comrades falling on the battlefield, and the blame had been summarily pinned onto her.
Henry with his stomach sliced open as he protected Owain. Cordelia's corpse riddled with arrows. Donnel, Tharja, Kellam… Lost in battle atop Mount Prism as the Risen fell on them.
Laying alone in her prison, it was easy for the memories of the Shepherds' accusations to mix with the insidious whispers in her heart.
'They never trusted you… The Fell Dragon has no friends…'
'They only used you… The Fell Dragon has no family…'
'You're a monster!'
'You can only trust me… The Fell Dragon has no children…'
'I'll end you myself!'
'He never loved you…The Fell Dragon has no lovers…'
Robin drew a sharp breath, shivering.
Chrom's rejection had been the one that hurt the most. She had willingly given him everything she had. Worked herself to the bone to help him rebuild the halidom and being there after Emmeryn's death. Had the situation called for it she would have laid down her life for him, the man who had given her a life. Robin would have to be blind to not notice the bond they had shared and her growing feelings for her prince. A prince saving lost girl and falling in love? A fairy tale through and through.
But life was no fairy tale. Whatever possible relationship she could've had with Chrom was destroyed as the princess from the future recounted stories of her own mother, a village maiden that Chrom had loved above all else. And since the battle with Validar, he had only eyed his tactician with distrust, any semblance of friendship long gone.
That hurt worse than any injury she had suffered in her life.
The darkness that surrounded her grew colder, the little flames from the torch doing little for her comfort. Grima's voice― her voice― kept whispering in her head as her only companion during her imprisonment, until it had fallen abruptly silent not long ago.
She should be thankful for the silence. Robin had ignored its whispers for as long as she could, and its absence was a welcome respite in her moments of lucidity. Then her own treacherous thoughts took its place, echoing Grima's poisonous words. Now, in those rare moments of lucidity, she felt cold rage flowing through her veins.
'Why!? Why wouldn't they listen to me? If I were truly Grima's thrall I wouldn't have just stopped at the Emblem! In my position, I could have easily disposed of all of them if I so desired! I know them better than they know themselves–'
But just as quick as it came, the anger was replaced by depression and defeat.
'No… If I had, I would've seen this coming… some tactician I am…'
Robin remained silent in both body and mind for a while after that, her head free from any thoughts.
An unknown amount of time passed before the door to her prison suddenly grated open. The sound of footsteps broke and dispelled the monotonous silence that had pressed at her mind.
That voice has painfully familiar to her. Mustering what meager strength she had left, Robin lifted her head to see Chrom walk into her cell. As she had expected, his expression was devoid of emotion. The Exalted Falchion, infused with Naga's flames, shone brightly on his hip.
"Grima is defeated," he stated emotionlessly, watching her closely.
'Well, that certainly explained Grima's silence,' was Robin's first thought.
"Gregor, Miriel, Lon'qu, and Ricken fell in the final battle."
And just like that, any feeling of victory she felt crumpled under the overwhelming feeling of guilt towards the newly fallen. Despite knowing their deaths were not her fault but the newly instated knight-tactician's, she couldn't help but feel responsible for their demise.
Still, casualties aside, she didn't understand why he came to tell her this. To rub it in her face that they didn't need her help to beat a god? To tell her they can put her down just as easily?
At this point, she just didn't care anymore. Her head hung back down again as she sighed tonelessly.
"…What now? Do you come to torture me? Parade me as a trophy? Give me to Lucina to let her get some sick revenge?" Robin looked at the ground, eyes closed in defeat. She felt bitter, but she didn't care.
"…No. I suppose I still have some…" Robin couldn't decipher the look on his face. "...respect for the bonds I think we shared, so I've decided, you won't spend a lifetime imprisoned here."
Something stirred in her heart. Hope, maybe? Could it be? Maybe a trial? Would he be willing to listen to her now that there was no impending threat from the now slumbering Fell Dragon?
Once more, she lifted her head with a hopeful look in her eyes, just as the gleaming length of the Exalted Falchion pierce her chest.
A sickening squelch reached her ears, and suddenly she could no longer feel anything but a white-hot burning sensation incinerating the small hope she had held in her heart.
She coughed as shock took hold of her, droplets of blood flecking the edge of the sword. Trickles of the same crimson liquid leaked out of the corners of her mouth.
"W-wha–" She saw the stony determination on Chrom's face. "C-Chro..." Robin gasped.
A flood of ichor forced its way out of her mouth, leaving her body far weaker as she began to slump over the blade. Dredging up the last of her strength, she forced out a hoarse whisper. The sole question that pounded through her disbelieving mind.
The Exalt's eyes locked with her own, cold and dead, as he violently twisted the holy blade, rendering her chest a gory mess.
"As long as you live," he stated, emotionlessly as if reading from a report, "that cursed bloodline can continue. With your demise, Grima will no longer set foot into this world again. Begone, Fellblood."
Robin's face twisted in despair and betrayal, anguish filling the crevice her heart had once occupied. She had predicted that this might happen, but it was another thing to actually experience it. She had felt foolish hope at the chance for forgiveness and paid for it.
Her white hair was stained red, and a river of crimson poured out of the wound in her chest to collect in a puddle on the floor. Choking on her own blood trying to take one more breath, her last thoughts were of the sound of rustling metal as Falchion was pulled from her body. Exalted fire mixed with its Fell antithesis that manifested from her body and engulfed her, overpowering the dimeritium. Flesh cracked like ceramic before turning to black dust.
The last vestiges of life fled her as her body crumbled away.
Robin could feel her soul moving through space, traveling to whatever afterlife and judgment laid in waiting for her when a cold grasp stopped her movements. Pushing through the pain she felt at the actions of the man she had once loved, the tactician opened her violet eyes just to meet a pair of red ones glowing with rage.
Grima stood before her, a wound equal to her own in her chest. Both bloody wounds burned with the azure flames of Naga, with the only thing holding it back being their own purple flames.
The two counterparts were floating high above in the sky, their bodies a mirror image of one another. The void around them was eerily silent as if awaiting the outcome of their meeting.
"So, your so-called friend finally killed you?" Grima finally began, visibly trying to ignore the pain from her wound. Her stolen face was twisted into a mocking sneer as she looked over the similarly broken form of her Avatar. "My foolish mortal side still believed in them, you know? Took enough control back from me to allow the foolish Exalt to deliver the final blow. And this is how they repay her? By murdering her past self a few days later? Hilarious."
"I also find it curious that he stabbed you right where he stabbed my body." Grima gestured to the cavity in her chest. "Is this a universal mark for women who are too stupid to let go of their useless bonds?"
Robin was still too emotionally broken to answer, and Grima took it as an invitation to continue.
"But I know you're different that your future self. I can feel the darkness in your heart. You desire revenge, no? To inflict pain on them for mocking your sacrifices? Don't deny it, I can tell. After all, we are one and the same." Grima leaned closer to Robin, lovingly tracing circles on her cheek. "I can grant you the retribution your heart desires," the dragon whispered, lips almost touching her ear. "We're meant to remake this world anew in our image. Why do you care for bonds with such insects, when others are willing to treat you like the goddess you are?"
As much as she hated to admit it, the dragon was right. Why did she keep fighting for them? Why not crush them as they had crushed her heart and bonds? Make them regret ever turning on her!
Robin looked down, shadows covering her eyes.
"Together we still have enough power to manifest once more. Join me and become what we were meant to be. Why not take that which you deserve over the corpses of those that wronged you?" Grima continued to seduce the tactician with promises of vengeance, trying taking advantage of her fragile state of mind.
'Because you're better than that,' her conscience challenged.
Robin blinked. Then she gave her mirror image a wry smile. A painful smile.
"You're right. We are one and the same," the tactician stated, much to the glee of the Fell Dragon. Grima pulled away as black flames engulfed Robin's form and power flowed through her soul. Their power became one as the tactician's eyes glowed red, the knowledge of the Dragon flowing into her mind. Slowly, Robin placed her hand on Grima's chest, feeling her future self's heartbeat, resonating and merging with her own.
"And that means…" A black bolt of tainted Thoron magic shot out of her hand, point blank, piercing through the Fell Dragon's back, "We are meant to die together."
Grima's face was one of shock as she felt against her past self's chest, a new fatal wound next to the one inflicted by the Exalt.
"There is, perchance, a power that could end Grima," Robin recited quietly, feeling a sharp lance of pain shoot through her own chest as well as she slumped forward a little, most of her strength fleeing her body. "However... 'Twould be her own..."
"WHY?!" snarled Grima, her black blood spilling from her mouth as her strength left her. The Fell Dragon tried to rise, but her body wouldn't respond; Her dormant, mortal half had taken back enough control to freeze her body once again, "After all this, why do you still resist me?! Why do you BOTH still resist me!?"
"They do have every right to hate us. And us to hate them. Maybe I should hate them," Robin conceded, feeling her existence crumbling away for the second time. "I gave everything for them, from my loyalty to my life". 'For him' remained unsaid as their bodies were engulfed by flames. "I hope they knew I would never have done this by my own free will. But this world shouldn't suffer because of my weakness."
"Y-you…fool…you were always…my weaker half." Grima's life force seemed to flicker in her eyes as their crimson glow slowly dimmed, before vanishing altogether, leaving behind only a deep, dead purple.
"For the first time in my life, I'm glad we're part of the same being." Robin was mildly pleased her theory on their bond was proven true. She had dreams in which Naga had spoken with Chrom about Grima's immortality, only to mention that Grima could only die by her own hand.
"Now... I am finally... free..." she murmured softly.
As their forms faded, dissolving into motes of light, Robin accepted her fate, glad to finally end the misery of both her present and future self.
Unknown to her, this was just the start of another chapter in her life.
Chrom gazed at the ashes of the woman that had once held his heart, her expression forever burned into his mind. He closed his eyes, but her face, her visage of raw grief and suffering, was still as vivid as the real thing and would be for a long time. He allowed himself to feel grief as his stoic facade crumbled away.
'Whatever feelings I had for her no longer matter… It was not meant to be, anyway. Lucina is proof of that. Robin was not her mother. She was the Fell Dragon, the one meant to destroy the world.'
The Exalt remembered the private talks he had with Lucina. How her mother had been a village girl that had captured his heart. She knew next to nothing about Robin, other than her exploits for the tactician left Ylisstol after the war. Or at least that's what she swore. Robin must have distanced herself after he had broken off their relationship in the future.
'Had I been with her, would anything have changed? She may have resisted…'
He shook his head, gritting his teeth. It didn't matter now. He had made his choice to guarantee a future for the entire world. The Exalt could now focus on rebuilding his kingdom and maybe try to finally meet the girl who would become Lucina's mother. Ylisse would flourish, now that it was no longer threatened by Valm, Plegia, the Risen, or Grima.
Even if Robin had been innocent, as long as she lived she could continue the tainted Fell bloodline. Eventually, another one who would bear Grima would have been born. As such, no one from that lineage could be trusted. She had already been manipulated once, almost costing them the Fire Emblem.
In a way, it was a mercy.
'My actions were justified… right? The loss of a possible host will severely hamper Grima's eventual reawakening...
He walked out of the cell in the boat they used to reach the island that Grima hovered. Speaking of which, her draconic form's corpse was still visible lying on the side of the mountain, where it would remain rotting forever as a sick reminder of her existence, just like the skeletal remains outside Castle Plegia.
Here he saw the surviving Shepherds assembled, awaiting his word. His daughter ran to him, anxious to hear the news.
"Father! Is it done? Is it finally over?" Lucina asked, desperately wanting to hear confirmation of her source of suffering's demise.
"Yes, Lucina… It's over," Chrom said through a slightly strained smile as he was engulfed in a tearful embrace. Despite his inner turmoil, he was glad to give his daughter what she needed to finally rest easy. He hoped this was the beginning of an era of peace and prosperity.
But in time, he would find out that all actions have consequences.
Between each realm laid a void, like a sea of darkness that exists between life and death. In this space floated a mass of divine power surrounding two broken, shattered souls.
The power of a dead god clung to the tortured shards of both the present and future selves of the Ylissean tactician.
The same soul of two different times and a power that cannot be destroyed. With the Fell Dragon's immortal consciousness gone for good, the draconic energy needed a new master to contain it. But in this vast ocean of nothingness, the only souls that could have handled it laid damaged before it. The essence immediately began working on instinct, looking for their combined survival.
The twin souls were surrounded by the flames of Grima, forging and fusing them to a stable state once more. As the purple fire melded their souls, memories from both of their lives flashed before their eyes before sinking into the whirlpool of their collective consciousness.
A tactician walking to the capital to offer their services to the crown.
A young woman waking up in a field with no memories, grasping the hand of a handsome prince.
A test of skill to prove their worth.
A meeting with the defenders of the country.
An assassin crippling the prince, weakening him for life.
Two assassinations thwarted, saving the heirs of Ylisse.
Sweet Emmeryn beheaded in her room.
Glorious Emmeryn falling to her death.
A royal wedding, joining tactician and Exalt into a new life.
The man that she loved growing distant at the words of Marth.
The birth of her blue-haired daughter, carrying the mark of the Exalt into her eye.
A future princess; the daughter of a nameless woman, destroying a relationship before it bloomed.
The Conqueror raging for years of war, thousands dead on his foolish quest.
The Valmese Empire defeated in a year, never to march on the eastern continent.
A set of twins born in peace.
A twisted father forcing her to betray her friends.
Chrom dying at her hands, forgiving her for her actions.
The Shepherds cursing her Fell Blood as old bonds were broken by a legacy she never wanted.
A prisoner in her own body; twisting the corpses of her friends and subjects into soldiers of darkness.
Chained in a cell by the friends that no longer trusted her.
A holy sword ending a lifetime of misery.
A blade piercing a broken heart.
A dark pulse of energy starting a new chapter in her life.
Two lifetimes joined together, their memories and torment crashed to form a vessel for the broken woman. The pain she felt was immeasurable flesh and bone weaved into existence. Her heart beat once more, pumping the Fellblood through her new veins. The black fire had subsided, returning to her soul, utterly spent. Remnants of the flame still covered her being, a shadowy aura indicating her new status as the new Fell Dragon.
Her body was reformed anew, though scars remained in her flesh were the flames of the two dragons had clashed. Her wrists and ankles bore the marks of the dimeritium shackles while her breast would forever carry the mark were Falchion pierced through. The Mark of Grima was gone from her hand, and in its place there was a new brand―a serpentine dragon eating its own tail.
Robin, the new Fell Dragon, opened her eyes only to see darkness. The tactician knew this place from her memories of her time as Grima. This was the void where Grima slumbered after the First Exalt defeated them, neither alive nor dead. She couldn't see, for there was nothing there, but the oppressive feeling was familiar all the same. Robin tried to move, but all her strength was gone.
Memories replayed over and over, like a play of her torment written to torture for eternity. All her failures in both lives to be forever burned into her memory. Robin was aware of the mixed memories of both timelines. The accusations and threats. The insults from her former comrades. Her actions in the future. Her rampages against the world. The Shepherds falling to her tactics used against them. Her children running from the Risen she sent after them. Her friends turning on her until the man she loved pierced her heart with his blade.
Rage surged through her veins once as she screamed to the uncaring void, demanding a reason for her suffering. "Why did you do this to me?! I gave everything for you! Why couldn't you trust me!?"
As if answering her previous question more memories replayed. This time only of the future she destroyed. Of playing with her children and those of the Shepherds, only to later send their parent's corpses as soldiers against them. The Fell Dragon sat and tried to process her memories.
Lucina was her daughter, but she denied it to her face. Did she hate her so much to ensure Chrom married someone else? What about Morgan and Marc? Her darling twins must have died since they weren't with their sister.
"Ha…I'm such a horrible friend and mother… too weak to protect them…"
This place had to be her personal hell. Forever trapped replaying her failures.
Robin couldn't help it―she laughed.
She threw her head back to let out a pained laugh. The harsh sound escaped her throat as bitter tears streamed down her face. As if answering her distress, the flames of Ignis manifested likes a coat around her skin. Weakened, bit still there.
"Hahaha… I can feel it… Grima's power… My power…haha… All that talk, and in the end, I am the Fell Dragon."
Robin just sat in the void until her tears ran out. She had no idea how long she spent floating there. Time was meaningless here. Eventually, she calmed herself enough to think of everything. No matter if it was against her well, Robin still felt responsible for whatever actions Grima performed with her body.
She had no way to fix the horrors her weakness brought. No matter how much she wanted to do something to mend the suffering her existence cause, she was trapped in this void. Not like there was anything she could do to repair the damage. This was all she could look forward to. An eternity of solitude, with only her depressing memories as her company. A fitting punishment, in her opinion.
"Do you truly wish to stay here for eternity?"
The voice startled the tactician out of her stupor. Robin prepared for battle, gathering her remaining power into her hands. A purple flame manifested on her fingertips, ready to incinerate whatever being invaded her prison. No one should be here, no one else could even survive this void but herself.
"Who's there!? Show yourself!" Robin looked around, but only the void was visible.
"Is that the way to greet a visitor? It matters not who I am is not important, but what I can offer you is," the voice spoke again, only infuriating the tactician.
"Stop with riddles and speak clearly!" she asked as her mind ran through the possible scenarios. 'Is it Grima? No. The damned lizard is dead and it didn't sound like it. I obtained Grima's power, so who could it be?'
The voice replied once more, its androgynous tone only irking the tactician, "As you wish, Fellblood. I have a proposition for you. Do you wish for redemption?"
Robin froze at the words. It felt like a cruel joke to offer her such a thing. "…What do you mean? Is this a joke?! There is no redemption for me! My failures ended countless lives!" Blood boiled in rage at the insult. How dare this voice taunt her like this! "Why would I trust anything I hear from someone who won't even show me their face!?"
If the voice had any reservations to her attitude, it didn't express them. "I don't have a face to show you, for I am not here. As for redemption, you might not be able to fix your world, but you can help another."
"…That's it. I've finally gone mad. Figures." Robin released her magic and just sat down, her head on her hands.
"...Is it that hard to believe that there is atonement for you?" The voice asked before it continued, "During your travels, you came across the Outrealms, correct?"
"…Yes. They were memories and echoes of times long past… And I'm talking to myself," Robin snarked towards the void.
"That's where you're wrong. Outrealms are gates to other worlds, as real as yours," the voice corrected, catching her curiosity. "The exalted princess used the gate with the help of her timeline's Naga to travel to the past."
She flinched at the mention of her daughter. "And how do you know that?"
"I know because I'm not some figment of madness. I've come from one myself, seeking help for my realm."
Robin's eyes widened at the proclamation, but if what this being said was true, it still didn't make sense. "What does this have to do with me?"
"My world is a reflection of your original timeline, with minor permutations. But one thing remains the same―it has already fallen to the Fell Dragon. But just like yours, our exalted princess has traveled to the past to end the threat before it starts."
"Who are you, really? I can't think of a being that could do all this, except Naga herself."
"…That's not far from the truth. Isn't that right, Naga?"
"Indeed," a new, familiar voice replied. Robin's head snapped around. Standing there was the Divine Dragon, Naga. The divine figure gave her a smile before she spoke to the disembodied voice."Save your energy and rest. I will explain everything to her."
"Very well," the voice replied as their presence dimmed, leaving Naga and a startled Robin alone.
Looking closely, Robin saw that Naga's appearance didn't match even her worst future memories. Naga's visage was no longer the elegant one portrayed in all the paintings. Her stomach had deep gashes with brilliant blood flowing from the wounds as the divine fire did it's best to heal the damage. Claw marks and burns were scattered across her skin, signs of a lost battle. Even when she was Grima, she had never managed to hurt Naga this much.
"Naga? W-what happened to you?"
The goddess gave the tactician a smile, seemingly ignoring her wounds. "A gift from our Grima before he departed to the past."
Robin blinked. "He?"
"As my companion said, there are slight permutations. In our realm, Grima's vessel is male. Your brother to be precise," Naga clarified.
Robin sputtered at that comment. "My brother? What are you talking about!? My brother died in the womb!" Now that she could recall both her lives, Robin remembered her mother's lessons on their lineage. Twins in the Grimleal bloodline were common, as was the case with her. But her brother did not survive, leaving her alone.
The Divine Dragon nodded, as if aware of her thoughts. "In our world, your brother survived, but your counterpart was sacrificed to Grima in a blood ritual moments after birth. An offering, Validar said." Naga explained, much to Robin's horror. "Your mother still called her child Robin, so he shares your name."
"My brother, huh?" Robin mumbled to herself before a ghost of a smile painted itself on her face. She remembered what her mother told her about her pregnancy and how much she wished she had a sibling to play during her childhood. "Heh… well, not exactly weirder than anything else so far," she said wryly, letting a little chuckle out. "So you're not my Naga, huh?" A thought occurred to her. Narrowing her eyes, she turned to the goddess. "Wait, how do you know so much about me, then?"
A shrug was her answer, something she never expected from the demi-goddess, "It's not hard to glance into the history of a world when your spirit is no longer bound by mortality. Grima mortally wounded me and I barely managed to send the scions of the Shepherds back in time."
Robin grimaced at the image. "Grima left our Naga in that dead future after following the kids to the past. Not sure what fate is worse."
"Still, I fear my efforts will not be enough to defeat him. He has grown more powerful and ruthless than in your world. You brother and his comrades won't be able to handle him as they are."
"And who better to help them than their own Fell Dragon," Robin surmised.
Naga smiled at her and nodded, before continuing on a more somber tone. "We need someone that can help prevent this catastrophe. I fear that your brother might face a fate worse than yours."
Robin stood silently for a few moments, going over everything she had heard. While the situation was going way too fast for comfort, a tactician must be able to adapt to such changes. Finally having a brother. Helping him and his world would certainly help ease the weight of her sins, but at the same time, she remembered how she got to this position and couldn't stop the bitterness from burning in her heart.
"…Why me, though? If everything you said is true, why ask the help of a broken woman? Surely there are worlds with better options than me. I have already failed my world… My friends turned on me… And now you want me to go help a parallel version of my and his own Shepherds? They will just turn on him and kill him too," Robin said bitterly.
Naga rested her scarred hand on Robin's shoulder. "All the more reason for you to help him. I believe you can achieve a better outcome and earn the atonement you desire. Is it not better than spending eternity here?"
Robin mulled over the words. While interacting with the Shepherds―any Shepherds― would certainly only lead to pain, she had the chance to spare her brother from a similar fate. Robin had a chance to make things better for someone, and that had to count for something.
"It matters not in the end if he is my brother or just some unlucky soul, I'll help him escape such a fate... And maybe I will find some peace for myself. It is better than sitting here alone in self-pity." Robin stated, much to the deity's delight.
"Thank you, Robin."
"I will need to be careful with my interference, though. If I change too much my knowledge will be rendered obsolete. Then again, I doubt I will be able to remain in the shadows forever. I doubt I can prevent the war in Valm, though I may be able to prepare Ylisse earlier and help the rebellion," she thought out loud, as she latched on to the opportunity. Her mind was running all the possible scenarios. It was a familiar and conformable feeling for the tactician. Much better than drawing in despair. "When and where will you be sending me?"
"We shall send you about two years before your brother loses his memories. That should give you plenty of time to prepare," said Naga, pleased with her choice. "I shall warn you, though. Your body and magic might be much stronger than before, being reformed with to suit your draconic strength, but you're not invincible. It will take years for you to be able to cast the most powerful spells in Grima's arsenal, which is why I'm sending you this far back."
Robin nodded, clenching her hand and feeling the magic tingling across her skin. "I can tell. This feeling… I need to recuperate from the wound from Exalted Falchion and learn to properly wield this power on my own," she said. They gave herself a once over. Despite her ugly scars, her body was in prime condition. "I feel better than ever, though. My body is stronger and my mind sharper. I can easily rely on my natural skills like this."
"Don't be overconfident," Naga warned her. "We don't know what will happen to you should you die in your current state. You might die for good and your power disperse, or it could go to this world's Grima. Or you could fall into slumber and become an easy target for him.
Robin cringed at the possibilities. "If he were to devour my power, he would be invincible. Not even Falchion would be able to defeat him this time." She then gave Naga a tight look. "You would be taking an awfully large risk by sending me there."
"Our options are limited, but I'm sure you're up to the challenge. And fear not, for you will not be ill-equipped," Naga said as she rose in the air, channeling her remaining magic above her head. Space warped like a ripple in water as a breeze rushed into the void. From the magical portal, an enormous fang came out, easily the size of a small house.
Robin recognized the magical signature on the broken bone. "That is one of Grima's fangs!"
Naga nodded. "We shall use it to forge a new blade–A counterpart to Falchion. I need you to focus the remnants of your Fell power into the fang, and I shall do the rest."
Robin did as asked. The embers that remained across her skin surged to life once more. The dark flame was different than she remembered. It was still Ignis, but now it shone with a rich purple color instead of Grima's pitch black. The fire flowed across the surface of the fang, engulfing it completely. Naga called a bolt of lightning to strike the bone. It cracked, before imploding into a ball of fire and light.
Opening her eyes, Robin looked in wonder at the new blade floating in the air. It was a one-handed sword, similar to a saber. The hilt was comprised of four prongs encasing a cylinder made of a ruby-like material. The blade itself was wider than the standard saber but not as broad as Falchion. It was black with a purple tint and dark red accents.
"I forged it using the same method as Falchion," Naga explained as she handed Robin the new blade. "It has the same indestructible blessing as Falchion, though it's linked to you instead of I. Those of your direct bloodline will be able to use its full power, or else its edge shall blunt."
"I doubt that will be an issue. I don't have plans of having other children. I assume it has the same capacity to harm Grima as Falchion?"
"I believe so, though we shall only know for sure once the deed is done. I believe this should be our last resort should Chrom or your counterpart fall in battle, as we can't ensure of its success," Naga suggested, to which Rose nodded in agreement. "When Grima arrives at the timeline, his power should still be stronger than you. I suggest not trying to engage him unless you can use your full strength to power the blade."
Robin took the nameless weapon, feeling its weight. "Wouldn't it be dangerous if Grima obtains it?"
Naga shook her head. "This blade is connected to you alone. You do not share the same source of power, so there is no link between the two of you other than your nature. Only you can release this blade's power."
Robin frowned as she thought of what this blade could accomplish. "If I were to kill Grima with this… would by brother be spared? Or would he die alongside Grima?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not certain. Something like this has never been attempted before," the dragon said apologetically. "This is another reason to leave its use as a last resort."
Understanding the consequences, the woman strengthened her grip on the blade. "I understand. I shall do my best to help him in his time of need."
Naga smiled at the tactician, happy that she was moving on. "I know you will. Do take into consideration that he is not as experienced or as strong as you."
A sigh escaped the tactician, but she couldn't restrain her smile, "No surprise there. He is just starting his journey. It seems like I've got my work cut out for me, but I've always wanted to be a protective big sister. I'll do my best."
"I ask one more thing of you," the ancient figure said, looking at her in the eyes to convey her request. "Please remember that these Shepherds are not the ones that turned on you. don't blame them for something they haven't done," she pleaded. "Do not allow grief to cloud your judgment and jeopardize the fate of this world."
Robin looked hesitant at the request. Her hand went instinctively to the scar on her breast as she thought of the request. "I… know you're right, but the wounds are still too raw. Maybe time will allow me to move on and heal, but it's too early to tell."
Naga just nodded solemnly, "That's all I can ask. Now, I doubt you want to be walking around like that, so let me give you something to wear," she said with a hint of mirth, and Robin swore she heard the other voice giggle.
The young woman frowned at that, before looking down at her body and realizing she had been naked the whole time. Pale skin turned a deep red, trying in vain to cover herself and save some modesty. "I...would appreciate that."
Smiling, Naga channeled some magic around the woman's body. In a flash of light, Robin was donning an outfit similar to the one she had used as Grandmaster of Ylisse. She was wearing a replica of her gauntlets, greaves, and chest plate, made of black metal with silver engravings.
But what she loved the most was the familiar weight of her mother's coat. It gave her a sense of safety, calming her nerves despite the Grimleal symbols embroidered on it. The shoulder guards that symbolized her rank completed her ensemble. Robin gave a sad smile, recalling how Chrom had given it to her as a symbol of loyalty and dedication to the Halidom.
Not allowing herself to fall into depression once more, she turned to Naga. "Thank you for this opportunity. I'm ready. I'll succeed in this task."
"I wish you good luck, Robin." To Robin's surprise, Naga engulfed her into a hug and whispered, "And while I am not my counterpart, I just want to say that I'm sorry we couldn't have helped you in your time of need."
Robin returned the hug, glad to hear that at least someone felt genuine compassion for her. "There is nothing to apologize for, but thank you. And farewell."
Letting her go, Naga used the last of her strength and a white light engulfed the tactician. As the lights dimmed, the dragon stood alone. Her form started to flicker at her low energy. She closed her eyes and spoke to the void. "…Are you sure this is the best course of action? She has suffered enough."
"The Fellbloods will need each other to succeed on their trials," the disembodied voice replied. "She desires atonement and has the strength necessary for the task ahead. You're well aware she was already involved in this anyways, given the circumstances. All this was never supposed to happen. Both of them were to succeed alone, and yet the situation has turned for the worse! This is all wrong! But she can fix it; I have confidence in her."
"And yet, you didn't even give her your name. You don't trust her," Naga pointed out, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
"I trust that she will accomplish her goal," the voice corrected. "And you know why I can't speak or reveal my identity. He still has a hold of me… Even if it was my fault. If he were to catch even a glimpse of her memories…"
Naga sighed. "Very well, I shall leave this to your judgment. I just hope she can fix this situation." With that, the Divine Dragon vanished, finally leaving this world.
The voice's reply was barely a whisper, "…So do I."
Northeast of Mount Prism laid Navola Village. A small farming community that trades with the Port Warren, Port Galder, and the March of Lefcandith. An older woman stood on the porch of a small farmhouse at the edge of town, watching as her white-haired son worked the fields.
"All right, Robin, supper is ready! It's bear stew, your favorite!" Morgana shouted, cleaning her hands on her apron.
"Coming, mother!" yelled the young man, voice happy at the prospect of his favorite meal. Running back into his house, he never noticed the young woman watching from the top of a nearby hill.
The Fell Dragon Robin watched the interaction with a small smile on her face. "It's good to see you again, mum," she said, her whisper lost in the wind. The desire to run and hug the woman was clearly visible in her eyes. She focused on her twin, her voice full of conviction. "I promise you both, I will protect you."
Taking one last look at her childhood home, Robin walked into the forests of northern Ylisse.
'Well now, no time to waste.'
Thorn: Counterpart to Falchion. Looks like Myrtenaster from RWBY with a wider blade.
A/N: A Map of this world: fav. me/dd8o8ej
You can see a FE Style portrait I made of Rose and Morgana. Checking Summer Robin on Heroes, turns out F!Robin is quite busty: fav. me/dd0nkoo
Thanks to robotortoise, Shipping Rates Apply, and Victory3114 for their assistance editing the chapter.
This fic is inspired by "Influenced Suicide" and "Omens and Visitors" by Illusion of Insanity. While we didn't agree on some things, I will give credit where is due.