#tacticavarza

One thing Chrom was terrified of almost as much as the thought of losing his wife was said wife’s stern-talking. He was, quite literally, Whipped and (un)fortunately for him, Robin was all too aware of that.

That, and her hidden threat was a kick to the face –

Stahlfari?!?! Really?! Everyone knows that Google Chrom is where it’s at for the best browser out there, bias aside! He has the best safety measures, the highest capabilities, hell it was royalty! She couldn’t do that to him, right?

…. Right?

He could feel bullets sweating down his complexion, Google Chrom raising one of his hands in an attempt to try and appease his will-definitely-change-her-browser-if-he-lets-her waifu 4 laifu, trying his best to hide the offending object in question’s grave on the floor (he can’t tell her that he literally just ripped off the sleeve before she came in!! What would she THINK?!!?)

“Robin, waifu of my dokis……… now now, let’s not be hasty………. while it’s Frederick’s job to assist me, he does it of his own violation and I value his hard work very much……..”

He had to change the topic; quick. His livelihood as the Browser of Her Default Heart was at a jeopardy, here. He casually wrapped his arm (that obviously had a sleeve, obviously) around her shoulders as he gently encouraged her to rest her cheek against his chest, humming out one of the only decent-sounding Google Pixel ringtones, the Romantic one. can u feel the luv 2nite

Watch it glow, watch it flow. This flame, it dances, prances, with no blame. From the tippity-tip of his fingers, a warm ember comes to fruition, so there’s no need, indeed, for her to be so uppity-fussity about the whole thing! But, that’s a threat! A threat? No, wait… not yet. That’s right, the Risen have yet to make this fight, human soldiers of adverse thinking have yet to show their might. It’s just her and him this time, a player of sparks and life and harbinger of crisps and death - oh! Does anyone think he’ll go out in a blaze of glory, not so much gore-y, but all the more and wondrous story? 

But, hold on super tight, that’s the stuff that makes the tactician’s lips a sealer-away-er of blight. This isn’t pillages and plight! Henry, oh, Henry dearest is okay and in sight! His grin, clear, seems to flicker with all twists, illuminated by the light that heats his fingers. Should he leave it there, so plainly, much longer - why - his skin will surely start to smoke and steam, just a gleam. 

Not that he minds, not at all! He’ll not feel a thing! That’s why he likes fire; it goes out without a cry, in the bat of an eye. It’s strong, ever so, and you can see where the enemies are to go. 

“Missy Tactician Robin~? Need a little more? A smidge more power will last us more than an houuuur, and, haha, it’ll bridge anything for coming up toooooo hot~!”

Whatever is it, though, that squeezes shut any last sort of rut? Could Henry say? Nay, nay, those stones are too out of it!

“You know, fire’s a great tool of waaaar~! There’s a distance, and then they’ll all fall! That’s what you want, right? One and two, three and four, they’ll all have to stay on the other side of the door… They’ll think you’re too fired up to approach and encroach~!” He pauses, tilting his head, “Ohhhh, I see~! You want me to be more careful, huuuhh? Haha, will do, will do, allll for you! Probably. As long as the flames you say are ones I like~”

“Sayyyy, Missy Tactician Robin~? Aren’t you curious, curious how I staaaand? Want me to lend another hand?”

Perhaps he’s worried still about how she took his little… “experiment” with the Risen arm, but that’s behind them now. No, this time, while the clock goes tick-tick-tock and the stars become super clear, Henry has to wonder, what is it he can do for her? 

Keep moving, going, doing, doing something. 

There’s something really chilling that bites at him. It’s really, really, really confusing. Has he ever felt this way? It is a new kind of day? Now, now he has friends, ones he’ll stick with so long as the war is here, then he’ll burden them no longer, that’s the stronger way, huh? Leave, unweave all those ties, that would make every one super, duper happy, right? Take that stress away, take heed, total need, no one has to get hurt! 

Is that what this is saying? 

But of course, he’s smiling! Never drop that, even when the heart feels so distant. One beat… two… beats… is his skin cold? Is his heart slowing, slowing still to a stop? No… Not that he’s afraid to die right here, right now, but it might scare Robin, it might hurt her, and she said it’s not good to hurt innocents in situations. So that won’t do. 

“So I’ve been experimenting with an icy hex!” He tries to reason, just a little with himself, see if this sort of prodding will help Robin give him an answer that clicks and clicks, “And I’ve been feel reallyyyyyy cold lately. Maybe I struck myself somewhere along the way? Funny, huh? Oh, don’t worry! Freezing an enemy should make their death super painless, we should try it sometime for all the mercy and stuff youuuu were talking about~. Kill or be killed, but noooo sharp objects involved~!”

There’s no resistance, right? Wind, Thunder, and Fire and the usual tomes Robin uses, Henry sports Flux and Ruin in addition to all that sort that Robin uses and uses, but Ice, that freezing freeze of a frosty ice over means no blood, no pain, all the gain! 

Right? Right? 

Robin doesn’t wants friend nor foe to suffer so, correct? 

But the look on her face, it’s curious, that’s concern in her eyes, isn’t it? Olivia’s been teaching him about it, about “feelings” and being “honest” with himself, about how it’s okay to let things melt. But he doesn’t get it yet, only that this isn’t what Robin wants yet. 

“Henry... that’s...” 

“Not right? So we scrap the ice? Would that be better~? Beeeee ourselves?” 

Slowly, slowly, tick, tick, tick Robin nods, but oh she is not late for it. What does she see? Why is she looking at him so? Is there something in his eyes, something that tells more of the freezing, numbing cold in his heart, the one that keeps his smile up, up, up! He’s so tough!

This is frost... over his heart? 

“Okayyyyy, tell me what I should do then~! Help you more? I think I can do a thing or two not related to Risen or Ice, riiiiight~?” 

“Just... Henry, understand that no matter how... endearing your endeavors may be, I’m grateful for the help. If you really must do something... let’s clean this up first.”

Maybe, Henry is slowly getting it too. That these are his friends, that they actually want him around. Robin, she’s really something, isn’t she? His plans have yet to change, he’ll go away another day, but step, step, step the solid ice begins to crack, his heart beats more and more with feeling, warmth coming, because now he’s got people around him! And this will not shatter the tatters that are already trying to peace together. 

One too many close calls will cross a man’s heart tightly. A blade is of more pain than a shield. For one resigned to defend people, holding weaponry - and lives - within his grasp, is not a play he enjoys, nor would have even wanted, should the circumstances have been any different. Freeing people from the holds of the Risen is mercy, fighting a war against living beings is cruel.

Leave it to the spinning of fate to bring him here.

“You really need this blade of mine, huh, Miss Robin? Not just this old shield? I’m not much. Should be asking Severa or something. But if I’m the only one for ya, I guess I can be take a swing.”

He keeps going, down and down this path. The road is rocky, uncertain, but there’s really no giving up in these circumstances. Warin can’t help but notice just how the day looks, when he stops and gives himself a moment to think. The sun is out. War may be around the corner, but what’s the use of getting too worked up about it? They need to do what they need to do. Minimizing causalities would be the most ideal, wouldn’t it?

Funny, a man with medicinal practice under his belt, spinning deeper and deeper down a path with the sharpest tool within his grip. 

“Abel and I have a history of being real used to bad lands; I’m sure Father, Mister Frederick, and Aunt Sully would be the more keen picks for scouting, but I’m,” he yawns, knowing for certain that it makes up something of an appearance. His firmness, no matter how relaxed he might seem, still remains, at least. “…no slouch. All us kids… we looked up to the best. So if the best needs me, then you can count on me to do something.” 

He ends up saying it with ease. To allow one of the hardest workers in the army a chance to have a break, to rely on him, why, he’ll take it upon his shoulders, so the others can have their spotlight, their fantastic moments that make waves. 

Hey, worry not. Old Grima’s not gonna win this round. 

He smiles at her, the mother of Lucina, wife of Exalt Chrom, Queen of Ylisse, and the treasured tactician. For the sake of his friends, and all he trusts. His hazel eyes, tired and red, tell a story she likely already knows. For a moment, his legs shake, until he pulls himself up to his mount. 

So, thank you for putting faith in me. 

“You know, Father’s a good guy, taught me most of what I know. Could’ve probably followed Mother in the flying business if I wanted to, but... Abel’s always deserved to help live up to his namesake.” 

Deeper and deeper he drives himself, until the war is over, until the future is safe, he can’t let go of this blade. Just a little more, Abel, Warin pats his steed carefully. We gotta work as much as we can to reach their dreams, and mine too... As the world spirals forth to the climatic battle for hope, firm footing, forward pressing, that’s what keeps them going. 

@tacticavarza

These fiends mayn’t press forward any longer. No, there has to be a way to end their spread, to stop Grima from forcing the slain back to their feet. Take care of wounds, for one too poorly timed and a weakened will to match may doom one yet. It waves, rocking the sinking ship of humanity. They’ll fight, fight in a vaccine-less world, wrought with darkness, to eradicate the threats to the peace.

Mother… Mother is in trouble!

Her movements are quick, her reflexes all the more so, as Falchion meets the blade of her Risen opponent.

“You’ll not claim Mother with that blade of yours yet again!“

This plague has taken her before, took her father before, took the heroes that were the parents of her cherished friends far too early. And she swears,swears upon the sacred blade she holds, that it’ll not happen again. She dedicates her current days to this cause; this is what she has sought.

“Mother, the backs of yourself and Father are mine to defend, so that you may continue looking forward, so that your futures will be what they deserve to be. Are you all right? I so feared I may have been too late…”

Close the call had been, but she knows her mother is stronger than that, a mere single carrier of the pain will not be the sole factor in causing her mother to fall and disappear, but it could have been the catalyst for something greater. To become ill… to reach so far into the depths… How horrible this disease, but it... it can be stopped.

There can be resistance. There will be.

To fight beside her mother, with the confidence that there’s a chance, she’s back-to-back, the swinging of blades, careful and not overdone, for the cuts are powerful to the one that’s worthy to hold. Blazes, static, gusts, Robin truly is amazing, a key, hope, to lay these disease to dormancy, or to destory it completely, regardless, a future they will save.