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"A sock to the gut, Chrom? I was under the impression men liked having beautiful women comment on their musculature. But if I have truly insulted you, I apologize.”

              "Er... no, it's quite all right. I was just taken aback by the thought that you thought of my deltoids as, er, bulging. That's quite horrific to imagine. Um. I'll just... go get Lissa now."

"Though I wouldn’t object if you brought Lissa."

                   "On second thought, maybe I won't get Lissa."

"Ah, my favorite exalt of the bulging deltoid kingdom comes to my aid. Boredom does not sleep, unfortunate as it is."

             "Bulging d----" A pause.                   "Should I get Lissa."

"I demand entertainment!"

             "At this hour?"

" … what brings you to this place, anyway? You don’t even look like you’re from here .. " 

                    Blue eyes stared far ahead, a grim look casting shadows over his eyes as he remembered times of war and grief. Things had not been easy back then ---- and although conditions have improved far from what they used to be, it still wasn't something the ruler could laugh off as easily as he had with this rogue's promise of repaying him.                     When questioned about his motives in being so far from the halidom itself, Chrom offered a light shrug in response. "Ah, well, that's good, then. I purposefully came out to the borders without a disguise to pose as a threat to any Plegians who bore harmful intent, you see." He hoped his words implied he was of importance to the man, as it was a bit embarrassing for him still to outright state that he was, indeed, the ruling exalt of the halidom this rider sought for.                     "Though, to be fair, I could ask you the same. Were you being chased, prior to the battle you spoke of?" Without a word, his sentry and pegusus knights reformed their formation to better fit their new goal of escorting both their king and their new acquaintance to safety. Chrom and the rider marched in the center of the troops now, accompanied by a few healers as a precaution ---- though none of the sudden and mass rearranging around them affected the king's concentration for even a second. "Ah, it's a little late, but you may call me Chrom."     

"Shall I get Lissa?"

              "... Maribelle. I'm glad you're enjoying my misery."

"Do I need to bring ya another set of blankets, sir?"

            "Not this time, Donnel. Lucina's at risk. Fetch me Falchion, at once."

Tales of the prince — Tales of the great hero Marth. But this man is anything but, he’s merely just a passing stranger with a caravan. Taking the reigns, he pulls Merida to face another direction while he keeps his eye on the cobalt male. He wonders where this man hails from, finally making a move to ask. ” .. hey! ” Shinjirou lowers his axe to his side to signal he’s not looking for a fight. ” … do you know where the Haildom of Ylisse is? I’m headed there, but not really too sure where to go. ” He pulls the reigns again when the wyvern snorts in disdain. She’s looking for a chance to swing in and attack, but he keeps his hold on her well — but lowers his hand with the reigns to pat her head lightly. ” .. calm down, will you .. ? Just because they have weapons doesn’t mean they’ll attack you .. ” Pausing momentarily, he sighs. He probably looked hostile because of the behavior of his wyvern, though he didn’t want to start a fight here, not on the borders of a country he sought to leave. ” Sorry, she’s just agitated because we were attacked on the way out of Plegia .. so you mind giving me directions? “

                Days after the war were known to be one of peace and stability, but that was no excuse for a ruling king to assume that it would forever be so. Not that his beloved home did not deserve eternal serenity for all generations to come, but fate usually was not so kind. And Chrom was well acquainted with fate.                       Although his right hand man insisted that the ruling exalt stay back within the castle walls where it was safe, Chrom would have none of it. His people needed to be reassured through actions as well as words; the former being more meaningful even if he had each and every citizen's full trust. It just wouldn't sit right with him if he didn't make rounds around the capital's borders at the very least. His sense of duty wouldn't let him.                      In comparison, Chrom was but a shadow's resemblance to the iconic king of the past. He knew only tales and legends, and the slightest trail left by his late father ---- although he strove to be a dependable leader, he has a feeling his impact in the history books is still quite little. His comrades will surely tell him otherwise, but the king knew the truth of the matter. He couldn't stop now.                      So while the heavy rain beat down on him and his tired troops that followed close to their commander, Chrom's posture on his steed remained tall and proud, emitting power through the furrowed look of his eyes alone. When shouts from the lookouts reached his ears, the king raised his gaze to said approaching, lone soldier on what seemed to be a feisty wyvern. A small nostalgic smile brushed his features briefly at the sight, reminded of a certain friend, but cleared his thoughts as he rode up front to signal that he was the one in charge.                      "My good man," he began with an affirmative nod, raising a hand to ease his tense soldiers that had gripped their weapons tight in wary of this supposed lone man. Not all were so trusting as the ruler of Ylisse, after all. "You've run in to quite some luck. We're headed there ourselves ---- in fact, one might call it our home." A look of sympathy crossed the king's face, but it was hard to tell from all the squinting from the rain. One thing was obvious: both this man and his wyvern were showing clear signs of fatigue, and Chrom was not one to shun away someone who was in need.                       "No Plegians in their right mind will dare approach you should you march with us. I give you my word." Falchion rested heavy against his side with responsibility, but he was capable of holding his ground. A gloved hand was waved in an attempt to beckon the man to fly closer. A cleric was summoned forth with his landing, and a brief casting of magic that would cloak the rider in defense was made. "Stay close, friend."

"I suppose not, if you must pose the question. My name is Robin." Robin knew only too well with whom he himself was speaking, though he guessed that it must not be the same man he’s familiar with — after all, that man was rather dead. Nonetheless, he asked, “And you?”

              "Still, it's a pleasure, Robin. With my luck, I had thought I'd come across another amnesiac... ah, never mind. My name is Chrom."