Work Text:
You first,
says Frederick, one of alarmingly few members of the Shepherds capable of proper critical thinking. Tell me what happened, from the start.
Since very early, Robin had made a practice of checking over all new purchases before they were moved into the supply train proper. She’d caught one attempted poisoning and quite a lot of poor-quality equipment so far, so she considered it well worthwhile.
With the book of minor spells she used to check for various flaws in hand, she pushed aside the canvas of the tent and started her inspection. Food: Fine, except for a few bruised apples and the like. Arrows: A few that would probably snap picked out. New copy of Elwind: Identical to her sample copy. New boots: No holes, tight seams. Spare dragonstone for Nowi: Now these were harder to inspect. Fortunately, Miriel had developed a new spell to do it, so—
There was an enormous crunch and it was suddenly bright. Robin yelped in surprise and shook her head, blinking in the light.
She looked around and spotted the camp in the distance… but, for some reason… smaller than it should be? Not further away, but like it had been… shrunken, somehow.
She looked around for the tent and couldn’t find it. It should be right here, she recognized the pattern of tents and at least relative to their size she was about the right distance away in that direction.
And that was when Lucina showed up?
Right. And that’s when I really started getting confused, because she was so… so tiny.
Lucina flinches.
But if everything is tiny, that must mean… Wait.
Distracted by her thoughts, Robin failed to notice the way Lucina drew up short and stiffened.
Am I gigantic?
she tried to ask, but it didn’t come out as words.
Lucina startled into motion, staring up at Robin and—
Drawing Falchion in a flash, and pointing it at Robin. No. No! How‽ How did you get here‽
And she attacked you.
Robin looks across the table at the perpetrator in question. It was well-executed. Good form. Correct choice of weapon. Fortunately she couldn’t reach anything vital.
The pain was immense, burning and crawling under her skin. Robin screamed. She tried to back up and collapsed in a tangle of limbs. Finally looking down, she had enough presence of mind to realize the situation.
Robin was a dragon. Apparently. A rather large, black dragon.
Wha— The dragonstone!
Lucina struck another hit and Robin screamed again. She scrambled in what she now realized was the wreckage of the obliterated supply tent, looking for the stone.
Fire slashed through her forelimb a third time. She found the dragonstone and did her best to delicately place a claw on it, concentrating on returning to human form.
Very fortunately, this worked. She found herself curled up on the ground next to the stone, one finger on it, breathing heavily. The cuts on her side and arm were fairly small but they hurt far too much for their size.
A sheet of canvas thumped to the ground a short distance away. Robin guessed it must have been on top of her somewhere.
What? Where—?
Lucina cursed and looked about, eyes landing on Robin.
Are you alright? What happened?
Get a healer.
Right!
I didn’t—
Not yet,
Frederick cuts Lucina off. What happened after that, Robin?
Well, Lucina came back with Lissa. She must have put the pieces together because when she came back she started asking me questions, but I still hurt too much to pay any attention.
So are you a manakete?
Apparently? I don’t know, how would I know, I have amnesia! I don’t have pointed ears.
Fine. Anything else to say?
All I know is I accidentally turned into a dragon and Lucina decided that was a crime.
Robin,
Lucina says. Your dragon form looks exactly like the Fell Dragon.
A silent moment passes.
Oh. What. What.
A crashing sound pushed Lucina onto her feet before she realized she was moving, followed by a roar that made her blood run cold and her hands double-check that Falchion was securely belted in place before she ran towards the sounds.
It was a dragon, that was for sure. Black-purple, which did not help Lucina’s blood pressure. It was also wearing what was left of a tent on its head, which was incongruous enough that it distracted her for a moment.
A dastardly tactic, surely.
It looked around and Lucina saw red.
Red eyes, that was. Six of them.
He was here. He was here. Somehow, impossibly, years early, despite everything she had done, without a single warning—
He roared at her. She drew Falchion and held it out, her only hope of survival.
And Robin got your words right?
Frederick asks.
She nods, not seeing why it matters.
Lucina did the only thing she could do. She attacked. Her only desperate hope was that striking first might earn her some sliver of advantage.
With her first slash, the dragon roared once again, but it sounded… different from every roar she’d ever heard from Grima. Pained, perhaps. Hope flashed in her blood; maybe Grima had been weakened by his premature appearance somehow, maybe she actually could do this!
She struck again, and again, swung a fourth time, and hit empty air.
She recovered and looked about in bafflement as the dragon’s blood slid from Falchion’s enchanted enamel surface.
What?
How could he just be gone?
Where—?
Falchion couldn’t possibly seal Grima in its current state; her incomplete Awakening simply wasn’t enough to do the job. Not to mention one did not seal the Fell Dragon by simply whacking him a few times. Which meant he had escaped.
She swore viciously.
Robin was lying collapsed on the ground. Lucina swore again. The tactician must have been here during the attack. She ran over.
Are you alright? What happened?
Robin pushed herself up partway and Lucina took stock of her visible injuries. Remarkably light, really.
Get a healer.
Well. Clearly she was hurt worse than it looked.
Right!
It was only as I was describing her injuries to Lissa that I realized that they matched the wounds I’d inflicted. Two cuts on the arms, near the wrists, and one in the side.
And the dragon you saw looked like?
Exactly like Grima.
She shudders. Every detail. The horns, the eyes, the wings, the teeth, everything. I know what Grima looks like. I’m not making a mistake. The dragon I saw was Grima, just smaller.
She’s shivering. I— I should—
She shakes her head.
Out of an abundance of caution, all parties agree that Robin should be confined under guard for the time being.
Lucina visits Robin that night.
Luci!
Robin sits up. Hi, I— I didn’t think you’d—
Neither did I. I just… don’t know what to think, Robin. What was that? Was it…?
I think you know me better than I know myself, Luci. Do you think I’m the type to… end the world?
No, of course not. But I—
She sighs. I think I just need to come to terms with it. I need to know that it’s you.
Stand back,
Robin warns. Once everyone is clear, she pulls out the dragonstone that’s been reassigned to her.
She focuses on the stone. The transformation comes remarkably easily. Once again everything becomes far smaller, drops below so she has to look down at it.
Her six eyes track across the landscape as she tries to learn to use the expanded field of view. She could watch almost a whole battlefield at once this way, she quickly realizes. It would be easier from above; fortunately she has wings for that. She stretches them out, but quickly folds them back at the strangeness of the sensation.
She locks eyes back on the group watching, and then very deliberately does not focus on Lucina, who looks panicked and has her fist tight around Falchion’s hilt and would certainly not appreciate being the single focus of something that looks exactly like her most feared and hated enemy.
In fact— She reverts the transformation and runs back across the field.
Luci, Lucina, it’s okay, it’s just me. It’s me. I’m not—
Yes you are. Gods, gods. Why do you think you have that brand on your hand? I—
Lucina hyperventilates for several moments, eyes jumping around, then takes four steps back and draws Falchion. Once again, the blade is pointed at Robin.
Lucina…?
Stay where you are, Robin. I have no choice, I— I can’t let you live.
Luci…
Lucina!
Chrom gets over his shock.
No, Father! We can’t take this chance! Something… Something is going to happen to you, Robin. Something is going to— to change you into that thing, and all else follows from that! Father’s death, the fall of Ylisse, the destruction of everything! I can cut it all off here, stop it from happening but I have to kill you! I know, I know, this is murder but— You must let this be done!
There must be another—
I swore to give anything! I swore I would do anything I had to do to put a stop to Grima’s return, nothing is more important than that!
Her voice drops, soft. Don’t resist, Robin. I’ll— I’ll make it quick.
A moment passes.
Very well,
Robin says. If this is the way to save everyone else, do what you must. I love you.
I… I must…
Lucina squeezes her eyes shut tight and draws her blade back. Robin closes her eyes…
Lucina,
Chrom’s voice comes.
Robin looks again to see Chrom’s Falchion aimed at his daughter. Lower your sword.
Father… Don’t you know how hard this is for me? I— I love her! But I must— I must do this, to save you, to save everyone! Please, before I lose the will—
We will find another way. Lower. Your. Sword.
… Damn it all.
Both Falchions drop, one after the other. Damn your fool optimism, Father, and damn me for believing it.
Many moons later, Lucina will find herself a dragonrider, astride the immense scaled neck of her wife’s terrifying Fell Dragon form, Falchion held aloft, as Robin crashes thunderously to the Dragon’s Table in the heart of Plegia.
Robin will act her best impression of her millenium-ago past life, the destroyer of Lucina’s world, and Lucina will sit there with the symbol of Naga’s power, endorsing the Fell Dragon’s words with her mere presence. Robin will name the Plegian hierophant a pretender
and an infidel
and, when Validar and the terrified Grimleal drag her out, will blast her future self to ash in chilling dark dragonfire while Lucina watches.
It’ll be satisfying, to a part of herself Lucina would rather not acknowledge.
That night, a much smaller Robin will reassure Lucina that, yes, it was all an act, and yes, the Grima she knows is nowhere to be found.
The fact that Robin’s dragon form purrs and can fit in Lucina’s lap will help. It’ll be very hard to imagine Grima purring.