An Awakened Turnwheel

by Valmese Author (HandWriter)

Summary:

A collection of scenes (or "Prisms") that mostly focuses on a certain Conqueror, his tactician wife, and a number of other characters, featuring references to Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (because I love the idea of said Conqueror and his son being the descendants of some of the characters from that game).

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"Prism 4: A Dissonant Reunion" is up!

Chapter 1: Prism 1: The Names of the Past Echo Imperfectly Into the Future

Summary:

Robin's overnight stay with her lover leads to her learning about his family history and all that it implies.

Notes:

After about four years, I finally posted some more (purely) Fire Emblem content. I mostly came back to write because I recently wrote a Hand-Delivered Letters volume centered around characters from Fire Emblem: Awakening and after introducing a friend to Fire Emblem. At first, I was a bit nervous about writing this and starting a new series under a new pseud, because... one, I don't usually write romance, and two, it's Female Robin and Walhart. But since I love Awakening and SoV and the theory that the latter character is Alm and Celica's descendant, I couldn't resist.

Anyway, enough chit-chat from me. Here's the first Prism of An Awakened Turnwheel!

It was a night unlike any other for both of them. For Robin especially, it was the first time since the Shepherds began their campaign against Grima that she made up her mind to stay overnight in someone else's tent, let alone her lover's — or, more accurately, that of her husband-to-be.

Although she and Walhart have been visiting each other's tents ever since they admitted their feelings for each other, it was still a rather sensitive matter; indeed, some of the more keen-eyed Shepherds appeared to have noticed, and it was for this reason that led to them making ever more frequent midnight meetings, when hardly anyone at camp was awake except for those assigned to night patrol. These trysts were her idea, as she wanted to know him better without alerting the rest of the army that she was with him — at least, for now. One day, they will know, but considering how many of them were still wary of him, it was appropriate that she and he kept quiet about their relationship.

Though a part of Robin felt guilty for not telling anyone, not even Chrom, she also felt something of a rush whenever they did this, fraternizing with a former enemy be damned. She had already made her choice a while ago and wasn't planning on backing out; the same could be said for Walhart, who readily went along with her plan.

The two of them were lying on his bed, with her back against his chest and his arm over her protectively. Before this, she asked him (somewhat sheepishly) if she could stay for the night, and, to her surprise, he agreed. Now, as she began to relax, she heard him mutter two words she had never heard of before.

"Albein… Anthiese…"

"Hm?"

"I've been thinking, Robin."

"About what?"

"Have you ever acknowledged the sudden appearances of the children?"

"I have, ever since Lucina arrived from the future," Robin answered. "What about them?"

"Since our union, I've come to the conclusion that it is only a matter of time before we meet with our own child."

"I… see," Robin replied. She was thankful it was dark in his tent, that the only light source came from the moonlight outside, for her cheeks had turned warm and red. It was still fresh and wild that she ended up with Walhart, even more so with the idea that they were likely to find their own child in the near future. "Does this have something to do with what you were mumbling about?"

"Yes."

"So what are 'Albein' and 'Anthiese'?" she asked out of genuine curiosity. "Have you come up with those names on the spot?"

"No, not in the least."

"Oh. Then what was the inspiration behind them?"

He sighed deeply before continuing. "Allow me, Robin, to tell you my full name."

She turned to face him, her interest piqued. "It's not just Walhart?"

"That is just one component of it. In truth, my name is Albein Rudolf Walhart."

"That's a bit of a mouthful," she said half-jokingly, "though I suppose royalty is that way."

Walhart's expression was impassive, although given he had a talent for being hard to read unless one were to pay close attention to his body language and other context clues, as Robin had quickly learned from interacting with him, who knew what exactly he was thinking of her jest? "You are partially correct. It is a traditional naming convention of Valmese royalty, a holdover from ancient Valentian times."

"Valentian?"

"I suppose it is appropriate that I tell you a fragment of my land's history before it was renamed in Alm's honor."

She nodded. "Go on, I'm interested."

From her encouragement, he smiled, clearly eager to explain things to her. "Since I was a boy, I have been regaled with tales of King Alm I, the first king and one of the heroes of the One Kingdom of Valentia after years of war between the nations of Zofia and Rigel two thousand years ago. While many refer to him simply as Alm, what is lesser known is his full name, Albein Alm Rudolf II, with Albein Alm Rudolf I being his father, whose appearance I've often been compared to."

Although his explanation was fairly brief, Robin was captivated: she only knew of Chrom's ancestor, Marth, and how he was known as a Hero-King. But to hear of another Hero-King named Alm? That was a new one for her. "And that's where parts of your name come from, correct?"

"Correct. Furthermore, I have been able to reliably trace myself back to him."

Robin blinked, having been taken by surprise by this new development. Did that — "Wait, Walhart, that means… you're Alm's descendant. You're a part of his bloodline."

He nodded. "Indeed."

 "I… I don't know what to say. I only recall Virion referring to you as the second coming of the first king, but I never thought you would actually be… I never thought I would be —"

"The wife of one of his descendants?"

"Y-yes. Then… that also means…"

"Whoever our child may be will also be of his blood."

It was one thing for her and Walhart to be together, as no one would have ever expected her — much less him, for that matter — to fall for the other. But here she was with someone who claimed to be the descendant of another Hero-King: a man who, among many things, was a former conqueror and her soon-to-be husband. Thirdly, should they meet with their future child, then he or she would also be a descendant of Alm alongside Walhart. All things considered, it made Robin's mind spin. "Right, right. It's just a bit much to take in, you know? But the other one, 'Anthiese'… do you know who that could be?"

"Anthiese is the true name of Alm's wife, Celica. During their unification of the continent, she was a compassionate force, more so than he was. Before, I thought it to be a weakness, that it was an impediment to strength and power, but you, Robin…" He inched closer to her, placing a hand under her chin to gently tilt her face to meet his gaze. "You've shown me that it is as important when it comes to achieving my goals, as it must have been for the Saint King."

Had it been anyone else, the gesture would have been intimidating, but since it was her, Robin, she only smiled. "You know, Walhart, I find it fascinating that you've changed so much. It's something wonderful, really."

"Perhaps so."

"So Albein or Anthiese… Still, I feel like something's missing."

"Oh? Pray tell, but what would that be?"

"One of your names is Rudolf, right? What was he like?"

He nodded. "From what I recall, he was the emperor of Rigel and Alm's father, though the latter fact had been withheld from Alm until the day he met and killed him when he was but a young man."

"W-what?!" she exclaimed, quickly pulling away from him and sitting up on the bed. "Why did he do such a cruel thing to his father?"

In contrast to her reaction, Walhart remained unfazed, though he also followed suit and sat up, his imposing size briefly intimidating Robin. "I will admit that it was — and continues to be — a contentious point in Valentian history. Some say that having his son kill him and become the new king when the time has come was necessary to unify the land against the degenerating gods that once ruled it, while others say that it was a risky gamble that he should not have made, that it could have gone another way."

"I…" It was the only sound to leave her mouth, her mind now preoccupied with the thought of anyone killing their parents, regardless if the child knew their identities or not.

"There is no need for a heavy heart," he said, temporarily breaking her from her wallowing. Though she knew his intent was to reassure her, that she needn't worry about what happened in his ancestors' time, just what he had been telling her stung, as it stirred latent memories that she would rather much forget.

"Yeah, but…" Robin trailed off again, struggling to form any words. "Alm unknowingly killed his father. I can't begin to imagine what he must have felt after he did that."

"Then I shall ask you this, Robin."

"What is it, Walhart?"

"What did you feel after your father's death?"

She hesitated, her resolve further pierced by the question he posed: not too long ago, she had met her father, who turned out to be the leader of the Grimleal, whose goal was to bring about the world's destruction. For her to find one of her parents in such a position, and one that was opposed to her and her friends' cause, had not let her mind be at ease since. Sometimes she wished that she had a normal life, with a normal mother and father, and that none of this — this nonsense — ever happened at all.

Of course, life was more complex, and it would be foolish of her to deny this reality and slip into a dream world.

After another heavy pause, she spoke again, though she remained uneasy. "Well, I… I can't say that I hold any sentiment for him after all he's done."

"Even after you discovered that you were his daughter?"

That did it for her, and she raised her voice at him. "Validar's different!" she snapped. "He wouldn't have thought of me as a daughter, as a child to love and dote on! He would've thought of me as a pawn, as nothing but a vessel for Grima to enact the destruction of this world! And I'm also certain that Alm and Rudolf were almost the complete opposites to me and my father!"

By the end of her outburst, Robin's breaths were unsteady and ragged. Even so, Walhart remained stony-faced, though her mind was still clear enough that she could tell he was just trying to read and understand her. "… I see. You denied your birthright, whereas Alm accepted and proceeded with his."

"What are you getting at, Walhart?"

"You hold nothing for your father, as he had plans to plunge this world into ruin."

"Well, yeah… I mean, he didn't do anything for the greater good."

"Which was what Rudolf intended."

"Huh?"

"When Alm was an infant, his father gave him away to an old friend to protect him from being killed by the Duma Faithful, who were followers of the Rigelian god that had succumbed to his madness. For seventeen years, Rudolf enacted his plan to unite the continent, and once Alm had come of that age, he passed on the responsibilities not only of a king but of a hero as well. A hero to defy and rid of the gods that brought hardship and strife because of their worsening madness."

"See? That makes me different from Alm; while I now get that his father made risky choices for ultimately good reasons, at least Rudolf cared for him in some way." Robin took a deep breath, calming herself further before slumping back on the bed and looking away. "Me, on the other hand… though I appreciate her for taking me away, I don't have many memories of my mother, whereas there is nothing good to be said about my father, and that's that."

She heard him settle back on the bed, and neither spoke for a few minutes. However, at the end of those few minutes, Walhart decided to break the silence. "I suppose it was folly to have asked," he said.

Although his voice was even, Robin could detect an apologetic undertone; for this reason, she faced him again. "No, I'm not angry at you for asking," she assured him. "In fact, I kind of appreciate it."

"How so?" he asked.

"You and I are going to become parents if the future children are an indication of anything. The least we could do is to not replicate what our parents, or even ancestors, once did."

"I see. It appears that you not only have the strategic mind of a tactician but also the wisdom of a sage."

She shrugged. "Heh, I guess so. I only thought that because it makes sense — I mean, why shouldn't one generation strive to make things better for the next?"

"Hmph. Your adherence and support for your convictions are as strong and admirable as always, my star."

Robin smiled from the affectionate nickname Walhart recently started calling her and his appreciation for her sticking to her beliefs. "Thanks. But going back to our child's name…"

At this, a brief smile flashed across Walhart's face. "Finally come to make up your mind on it as well?"

"Of sorts. I won't deny the names Albein or Anthiese, but I would like to make an adjustment, especially if we have a son."

"An adjustment?" he repeated. "Do you not like them?"

"Oh no, not like that. It's more of an addition."

" … Explain," he said. Though the tone was seemingly authoritative, there was an added gentleness to it, making it less like a terse command and more like an encouragement for Robin to continue.

"Since this will be our child, I was thinking: what if I also had a hand in naming them? So I thought of one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Morgan."

"… Morgan."

Judging from Walhart's hesitation upon repeating the name, Robin added, "We can keep Albein or Anthiese, but regardless if we have a son or a daughter, at least have Morgan as the name they will go by. Just like how Alm is usually called Alm."

He stared at her, and she could tell he was unsure of her suggestion. Although Robin didn't know much about Valmese or Valentian royal customs, it was clear that Walhart was unused to something out of his norm, that it was an upset to what had been established. Then again, a minor change in a name was minor, given that their general circumstances were already out of the norm, especially with the fact that they have fallen for each other during a war against a world-ending dragon of all things.

"I will consider it," he said after a long pause. "But why specify 'especially if we have a son'?"

"Because then I wouldn't want him to share the name of a man who fell to his son's blade. Consider me selfish, but I would want him to be a bit different." Robin reached for Walhart's long hair, catching him off-guard despite her lazily stroking it. "Besides, I would like to give my part to your family. You know… do something different for a change."

"Those are… unexpected reasons, Robin," he replied, distracted by her sudden affectionate gesture. Eventually, he relaxed, closing his eyes as he allowed her to continue. "But I won't deny a favor from a woman like you."

"Aw, thanks, Walhart," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek before whispering, "I love you." She then turned to face away from him, shuffling her body until her back was against his chest.

Similar to Robin, Walhart was grateful that it was dark in his tent, as he too felt his face grow warm and red. He also brought a protective arm around her again, securing her in place as he hummed a tune from millennia past.

It was the last that she heard from him before she went to sleep.

Chapter 2: Prism 2: Trust and Promises

Summary:

Robin harbors doubts, but she and Walhart try to overcome them.

Notes:

Ladies and gentlemen, the Motoko Kusanagi and Batou of Fire Emblem. <-An in-joke, but I approve of those who know or have watched a certain old anime series about cyborgs and at least played Awakening. (Because the appearance of the Conqueror resembles the latter character, not to mention having the same English VA.)

Anyway, I'm done talking to myself here. I present "Prism 2: Trust and Promises"!

Robin was nervous.

It was a side to her that not many people see, but as the tactician for Chrom's army, keeping her head cool while under pressure was a vital skill. After all, it proved crucial to many of their victories, and thus anyone would be a fool to overlook it.

But she was still human and far from being perfect, and right now, she needed to talk to someone about what has recently been bothering her.

So when she snuck away from the center of camp to have another midnight meeting with Walhart, she hesitated before entering his well-lit tent, only doing so after taking a deep breath. Despite it only giving her some respite, it was enough to push her to step inside.

Best to be upfront, then.

"I am worried, Walhart."

He put down a book that he was reading by lantern light, turning to face her. "Hm? What is it that ails you, my star?"

"It's… it's about Grima."

He straightened in his sturdy chair, taking on a more serious demeanor. "I see."

"I can't stop thinking about him."

"Is that all?"

That was not true, and clearly, he could read her like a book, given the way she shuffled her feet and turned her face away to look at the wall of his tent.

"Well, I… I just remembered something that I told Chrom some time ago," she said slowly. "But now… I don't think I'm able to follow through with it."

"What have you told him?" he asked as she moved to sit on his bed. Upon sitting down, she wrung her hands on her lap, all while avoiding his gaze.

"It was a promise, Walhart. I promised him that I would not sacrifice myself, even if it was for a million people's lives. After all, he was one of my first friends ever since I met him, Frederick, and Lissa in a field that I awoke in."

"It is indeed a difficult decision to make."

"Yeah, it is. But… is it wrong?" It was unlike her to ask such a question, and she lowered her head in shame. After all, even when her plans were sometimes seemingly audacious, such as the time she thought of setting Ylissean ships on fire and sailing them toward a Valmese fleet, she had the confidence to see things through, but now?

"It appears that you hold a speck of doubt about keeping your promise," Walhart observed.

"And I do. I really do." She paused, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to tell him next. "To tell you the truth, Walhart, I seriously considered sacrificing myself when Naga told us that should I be the one to kill Grima by my own hand, then there was a chance that I could survive, even if that chance was very small, and that it's only possible because of the invisible ties that I — no, all of us have forged together. It's a bit funny to think that it began with the three of them in that field… but now, I feel like those ties are at their strongest with you," she admitted, looking up at him.

"And is this belief what you truly hold?" he asked.

"For many nights, I couldn't rest easily," she continued wistfully, "and I'll admit that what I told Chrom that day wasn't how I truly felt." She sighed, uncertain about whether her next words are those she would later regret. "I hate to put it this way, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was willing to sacrifice myself."

Walhart leaned forward on his seat. "Robin, I believe it is time that I let you in on something only I am privy to until now."

"What is it?" she asked, slightly relieved that he decided to change the subject.

"To begin, I am certain that you are aware of the true purpose of my failed invasion of Ylisse."

"Yes, it was to prevent Grima's resurrection," she said, recalling how Aversa, one of Validar's subordinates, revealed that bit of information during one of the Shepherds' battles in the Dragon's Table. "But what does that have to do with anything? And what's this thing that you have kept to yourself?"

"Patience, Robin."

"Sorry, got ahead of myself there," she said, biting her lip at her impulsiveness.

At least Walhart didn't appear to be annoyed at her questioning, nodding as he resumed to speak. "You are indeed correct about my purpose. More importantly, however, I have done some reading about the Fell Dragon before my attempted invasion."

"You have?"

"There was, among the pages of ancient Valentian history, a brief period when Alm and Celica traveled to a land that is now a part of Regna Ferox."

At the mention of Alm and Celica, Robin wondered if Walhart was about to tell her another one of his ancestors' feats, as they always piqued her interest ever since he revealed to her he was one of their descendants. "That's new. What was this land like?"

"From what I recall, it was a desert capital known as Thabes, which lay buried in its sands for centuries prior to their arrival. It was a land said to be full of untold riches, and many have sought these treasures, often at the expense of their own lives." He paused to let out a dry chuckle. "A foolish endeavor, I must say," he snidely added.

Throughout Walhart's explanation of Thabes, Robin's imagination ran wild. A buried ancient city in a land that was once a desert? And one that was filled with treasure? It was, admittedly, a bit absurd, as she could only recall Regna Ferox to be cold and oftentimes blanketed with snow; even Port Ferox, its largest port city located on the west coast, was breezy during its better days. Still, she had to know more, if only to get to the bottom of what Walhart intended to tell her. "Let me guess; there's also something more than treasure, is there?" she asked.

He nodded. "Indeed, for there is a ruin known as the Thabes Labyrinth. And it is what Alm and Celica found inside its depths that became the primary reason for my conquest."

That stopped Robin in her figurative tracks, and she gasped. "You mean… Grima? Grima has been in the Labyrinth two thousand years ago?"

Walhart nodded again in confirmation. "He did not arrive from someplace else, however; rather, he has been created there by an alchemist known as Forneus."

"Alchemist? Forneus?" she repeated in disbelief. The words were foreign to her, as even though she had scoured through many of her history books, she had never come across any famous person, let alone one with the profession of alchemist, bearing the name. "And what do you mean, Grima was created? Are you saying that he's a man-made dragon?"

Walhart didn't answer her questions, and he continued without wavering from his serious expression. "Driven mad by the death of his wife, Forneus set his sights on conducting heinous experiments, and from them, two results came to be: the first Risen, which were created when he used insects called thanatophages to resurrect the dead; and what has originally been called the Creation, nowadays known as Grima, who was created using a variety of materials, including — most notably — Forneus' own blood."

"No, that can't be," she said, shaking her head. Just listening to his description of how the Risen were created was already gruesome enough, but the thought of someone using their own blood to create such an unholy being? It sent a chill throughout her body, and she remained silent until she mustered the will to speak again. "But wait, if you said that this Forneus used his own blood to create Grima, does that mean that they share the same blood?"

"It is more than likely that they do. Not long after the young Grima was given his blood, it is said that the alchemist began to hear dark thoughts not of his own. Not much is known of his eventual fate, but it is said that Forneus was either killed by or even subsumed into Grima."

"He's just like… me," she said in a strained voice. "It's just like how I am linked to Grima. How I can hear his voice."

"Then it is just as I suspected, Robin; it is likely that you are related to Forneus. Therefore, you are the only one who can forever sever the ties to that so-called god."

Robin shook her head again, trying to deny what he had just told her. "No… no, no… I thought that me being Validar's daughter was already bad enough, but now this… I don't…"

"Robin…"

Suddenly, she got on her feet and off his bed. "We need to tell the others this, Walhart. We need to tell Chrom —"

But before she could take another step to leave his tent, she felt his grip on her shoulder. It was a firm grip, no doubt due to his strength, yet it was just enough not to hurt her. "I cannot allow you to do that, Robin," he said sternly.

"But this is important!" she exclaimed. "We can't just leave everyone else in the dark about all of this!"

"And what would they say?" he snarled. "Do you expect them to readily believe what I have told you, that you are indeed the latest in the line of hosts for millennia? That what is happening at present all began because of the workings of a madman and my ancestors being unable to permanently slay an abomination?"

The tone of his voice intimidated her, more so than him standing over her, and suddenly she was reminded of his conquering days when he was more of an unrelenting warlord that easily crushed his enemies in his path without mercy. In the general present, he was significantly calmer, more so after he fell for her, but there were occasions when that fierce side of him flared, and now Robin could only let out a timid "But… " as she froze in place, staring at him with wide eyes.

Upon seeing her frightened look, Walhart relaxed his hand on her and sighed deeply to rein himself in. "Robin, I know that the others do not put their trust in me, especially Chrom," he said in a calmer tone. "And, for that matter, I know that he will try his damnedest to dissuade you should you tell him what you truly believe is the right decision."

"The… right decision…" she mumbled.

"Think about it," he said, finally removing his hand from her shoulder and sitting back down. "Is it not true that you want to get rid of the Fell Dragon once and for all?" he asked.

"Of course I do, as does anyone else who isn't a part of the Grimleal."

"Then understand this: though I do not lend myself to any god's whims, I am willing to do what is best for humanity, and if what Naga has told you rings true, then your sacrifice would be the best course of action."

Robin looked at him, her heart sinking as she realized that he also agreed with her choice that she kept hidden from Chrom and the others. Was there really no other way? "But Walhart…"

"Yes?"

"If I do not survive —"

"Then you will be remembered as a great heroine of this age, as no one will forget your name and your deeds."

"And what about you? What will you do when I'm gone?"

He smiled at her, though it had a hint of bittersweetness. "My star, you needn't worry about me, as I remember the words that you told me before."

She briefly closed her eyes upon hearing his nickname for her, the sound of it soothing her a little. "And what would those words be?" she asked, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

"'Where there's life, there's a will. And where there's will, there is the power to change.'"

"You do remember." Compelled by his recollection, Robin confidently stepped forward and kissed him before moving behind his chair.

For a few seconds, he was silent, unsure how to react until he felt a sudden light tug on his scalp. He did not object beyond a grunt, however, letting her do as she pleased as he spoke again. "It will not be easy, as I am certain that not everyone will approve of my return to rule Valm. But what is also certain is that I have changed for the better, and that it is thanks to you, Robin."

"Er, you're welcome," she replied, moving from behind to stand next to his seated form.

"And now I must also ask you this, if you don't mind."

"What is it?"

"I ask that you promise me that you will not tell anyone what I have told you about the Fell Dragon, and that you hold onto what you believe is the right decision. Do you understand?" He extended a hand toward Robin, this time reminding her of the time he finally admitted his feelings. It was a touching gesture, to say the least, and she reciprocated by giving him her hand.

"I do. I promise, Walhart."

"Good. Until our next meeting, Robin. I put my utmost trust in you."

They shook each other's hands once, followed by him giving her a kiss. Robin then turned to leave, and Walhart watched her as she gradually disappeared into the night from his tent.

Once she was gone, he reached for the back of his head and felt his hair. She had pulled it back and tied it into a low-hanging ponytail, which contrasted the mane he always sported; not that he had a distaste for it, for at least it kept his hair away from his eyes.

Though he did not fully understand her reasons for doing so, he surmised that it was just one of her displays of affection, and that was all there is to it.

He did not remove the hair tie until right before he slept.

Chapter 3: Prism 3: The Emperor's Star

Summary:

Robin and Walhart discuss some matters outside under the stars, including a recent rumor that Robin once overheard.

Notes:

This Prism was formerly titled "Observations and Rumors."

"You know, from what I've observed, you appear to be one who prefers solitude, Walhart."

At the sound of Robin's voice, Walhart turned his gaze from the cloudless night sky to see her approach the cliffside clearing. For a few nights while the Shepherds made camp to the west of Regna Ferox, Robin had noticed him visiting this spot by himself at around midnight, with this occasion being no exception. But it was only now that she made a move to follow him and find out what he was doing at this late hour, as her curiosity finally got the better of her.

"I suppose that is obvious," Walhart replied. "What gave it away?"

Robin shrugged as she stopped to stand next to him. "Well, oftentimes I see you by yourself outside when we're not together. Or, if not that, you're tending to your horse. From that, one can presume you're not exactly what some might call a 'people person.'"

"Then I must say that is a somewhat incorrect presumption, Robin. I have only come here to reflect, not isolate myself completely from the others."

"Oh?"

"As I have told before, the majority of this army does not put their full trust in me, despite having lended my services for quite some time. In truth, I do not mind having company, yet there appears to be something that repels others from my presence."

"But have you ever thought of trying to earn their trust?" she asked.

He didn't give her an answer, instead replying with a question. "Allow me to ask you this, Robin: does one put their trust in another who has committed terrible deeds?"

She sighed, somewhat annoyed by his deflection. "What are you getting to, Walhart?"

"Think upon it: I, who conquered nations and placed them under my rule; who made their leaders surrender, rebel, or flee; who amassed an army that has defeated those who did not submit easily…"

"I…"

"For what I have done in the past, you are the only one to put your full trust in me. Does it not rattle you?"

Robin fell silent, unable to reply as she was occupied with her thoughts. Despite being with him for a while now, there were occasions where he would ask her questions that she sometimes struggled to answer.

Alas, that was a price to pay for falling for a man like Walhart. To everyone else, she would be seen as a fool for doing so (for why would anyone want to fall for a brute like him?), but then again, few knew that he often provided interesting challenges for her, asking her questions not many people would think of asking. Indeed, the current point of their conversation was somewhat of a debate, for he presented her with a topic where she had to voice her own views.

Still, she willed herself not to fully give in to what was essentially a hard truth. "I… I hate to admit it, but yes, what you have done does unnerve me a bit. Given that, many would think twice about placing their trust in you."

"Then why do you, among many, do so?"

"Because I believed there was more to you," she replied, placing her hand onto his chest. "That underneath the battle-hardened conqueror was a man who thought he was doing the right thing, even though in reality, he made himself an enemy to many others around him."

"And on what grounds did you base your belief upon?"

"Part of it from intuition, part of it from observation," she replied, slowly tracing her hand over the muscles underneath his shirt removing it from him. Though she didn't notice it, his expression briefly changed to that of a disappointed frown. "I've seen your willingness to stick to your beliefs, yet you are also flexible enough to lend an ear and follow those who defeat you."

"So you have noticed," he replied plainly.

"You believe in the strength of humanity, that it can overcome any adversary, even gods. But you have also been shown Chrom's and Emmeryn's ways, and that compassion goes hand-in-hand with it."

Walhart looked up to the night sky, which was dotted with countless stars. For a moment, Robin wondered why he ever gave her the nickname of "star": was she a sort of ray of hope? A renewing light amid a darkness that formerly surrounded him? It would seem that way, given by how much he had changed.

"In the past, I walked a hard and unforgiving path, my mind having been clouded with the notion that power was the answer to every problem such that I had little room for compassion and feeling." He sighed. "But now it is clear that the same path was wrought with obstacles that could have been overcome in ways other than through force. Thus, I have overlooked something crucial my ancestors once had."

Although it was somewhat difficult to discern in the moonlight, Walhart appeared to have a regretful frown upon his face – an expression Robin surmised few had ever seen. "You mean… like how Alm and Celica had each other?" she wondered. "How the two of them had their friends?"

"Friends?" Walhart repeated, as if the word was foreign to him.

"Have you, during your conquest, made any friends? Or at least had a few close companions?"

"No, I have not," he admitted. "Prior to meeting with you, I had little need for friends, let alone anyone to confide in."

"And why is that?"

He raised his hands in a brief shrug. "Before, I thought it to be a form of weakness, a belief that was espoused only by fools who thought camaraderie was the only key to winning battles and disregarded other factors for victories. Furthermore, I once believed that a soldier's only value is their fighting prowess, without much regard to their character and life. But, as a witness to your strategies, Robin, I now dare say that I was wrong, as I have been for other things."

Robin said nothing, digesting the words Walhart had said. Contrary to how anyone lesser would protest at how he used to believe the concept of friendship was a weakness, there were no angry thoughts circulating throughout her mind. She was reminded by what she said to him before, in that it was healthy to have a mix of different beliefs and new ways of doing things, for learning about other ideas made one stronger. And given how Walhart had been listening to her advice, it seemed that he did indeed learn and subsequently grow in his own way.

For a while, they stood alongside each other in silence, with only the breeze rustling the leaves and the distant howl of a wolf interrupting the otherwise quiet night. It was just the two of them on that cliff far away from the camp, and it would have remained nearly silent had Robin not suddenly remembered something interesting that happened a little while ago.

"Oh, come to think of it, have you heard what Chrom said the other day?" she asked.

"I have not," he answered matter-of-factly.

Not much for gossip and rumors, it seems, she noted, watching his now inscrutable mien. As I figured.

Nevertheless, she recounted what she heard to him. "He mentioned how there was a village not far from some ruins to the northwest of here. Said that it contained an extraordinary treasure that must be at least a few thousand years old if the rumors are true."

He looked at her with skepticism. "Now why would that hold an interest to you? Does it house anything that could be used against the Fell Dragon?"

Robin shrugged. "That I am unsure about. But get this…" She motioned for him to come closer to her level, and he stooped to listen to what she whispered to his ear. "The townsfolk have said that one of them spotted a boy wandering into the ruins, though none dared to follow him out of fear the ruins would be a dangerous place."

Walhart slightly withdrew from her, unsure what to make of her claim. "A boy?"

"They said he had white hair and wore a dark coat, venturing forth with only a sword and a tome in hand."

"Hmph," Walhart said dismissively, "then it must have been that Plegian mage with crows going off to do something foolhardy."

Robin shook her head. "Well, at first we thought it was Henry, but he said he never ran away on his own to go into any ruins recently." She knew Henry rather well, as they have occasionally spoken to each other before and became friends, despite his bizarre and off-putting love for curses and blood; Robin figured he wouldn't just abandon the Shepherds without a good reason, and so she explored other possible people who matched the identity of the boy. But try as she might, she couldn't think of anyone, as not even the future children fit the villagers' description.

She tapped her chin, her mind now focused on trying to reach the bottom of the mystery. "Hm, maybe it could be…"

"Perhaps it is you from another world."

She started, taken aback from Walhart's suggestion. "What?"

"Absurd as it may seem, but I do not think it too far-fetched that another version of you would appear in this world. After all, the brother of the princess of Chon'sin is somewhat similar in that manner."

Walhart was, Robin had to admit, right, as the Shepherds have met and recruited Yen'fay, albeit a Yen'fay who arrived from another world where he was alive and well while his sister, Say'ri, had perished. On the other hand, Robin had some doubts at Walhart's words, if only because she found it difficult to imagine yet another version of her wanting to arrive in this world: the only other her Robin knew of was on the side of the Grimleal, and who knew what would happen if two alternate versions of her would form an alliance or fight against each other, only to cause an even bigger calamity the world had never seen before? The very thought made Robin shudder, but upon feeling Walhart's hand on her shoulder, she relaxed.

"Maybe you're right, but still, I feel that something is off with what's happening there," Robin said. "It seems worth investigating, even if it may simply be a case of mistaken identity or something else entirely different."

"Then I suppose you will take this matter to Chrom?"

She nodded. "I was thinking that. But who knows? Maybe this boy might help us."

"We shall see," he replied, turning to look at the night sky again. "Only by finding and meeting this boy you speak of will we find the answers. But if he had the mettle to enter such a location on his own, I can presume that he is either a fool…" He paused, then lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Or, I can only hope, have an uncommon amount of courage and confidence in himself."

As unusual and somewhat dismissive Walhart's words may be, it appeared that even he was eager to meet the mysterious child. "Whatever he may be, I'm sure he will be a great help," Robin commented. "We need anyone that is capable, after all."

"I agree with you, Robin. But now it is late, and we shall speak again tomorrow."

"Well, then I bid you goodnight, Walhart," she said, reaching to hold his hand.

"And I to you, my star."

Stooping to her height again, he gave her a kiss, to which she reciprocated along with a gentle tug and ruffle of his hair. It was a rather bold move coming from both of them, as they were not inside either of their tents. But they were not deterred, as they were confident no one else was around to witness them in such a brief, yet intimate act.

Nevertheless, they parted, and Robin left before Walhart, still feeling light-headed from their kiss.

Chapter 4: Prism 4: A Dissonant Reunion

Summary:

An excursion to the Ruins of Time yields two unexpected results.

Notes:

After finally completing the last part of A Bird and a Hand, the most recent HDL volume, I decided to return to An Awakened Turnwheel to continue writing some more for it. I will admit that the previous Prism wasn't like the first two, but that was because it was more or less a set-up for this Prism. That being said, this one is much shorter, has more action than just two characters talking to each other (with one of them essentially exposition dumping Shadows of Valentia lore), and is the first of two directly-related Prisms, meaning this is Part 1 to a two-part arc.

As for the addition of the "Canon Divergence" and "slight rewrite" tags, you'll see why starting with this Prism.

"Is this the place?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, it's got to be," Chrom replied as he walked alongside his wife, the Olivia. "The townsfolk spoke of ruins in these parts that carry the legacy of the divine dragon. Of course, they neglected to mention that the place is crawling with Risen…" He gripped the Falchion tighter, subtly twirling the legendary sword around in his hand. "I suppose we're just gonna have to earn this treasure the old-fashioned way."

The small group of Shepherds made their way into the ruins, mostly sticking close to each other out of caution. Not all of them did so, however, as Robin kept a small distance away from Walhart, who was sat upon his horse. Unlike her, who infrequently observed him as she walked along, he kept his gaze forward, only making the subtlest of head turns towards her direction; even then, they were subtle enough that she couldn't tell if he looked at her at all, though at least their way of acknowledging each other meant that their secret remained safe.

On the other hand, Robin told earlier Chrom that they should investigate the ruins, despite the latter's skepticism of there being anything else other than supposed treasure. Still, if the rumors about a boy stumbling upon the ruins were true, there was a chance that he could be encountered and subsequently warned about or rescued from the dangers within.

For now, the ruins were empty, its large open space making everyone's footsteps and hoofbeats echo upon the aged tiles. There was a chill in the air, thus their breaths were visible, yet it also had a grip of foreboding to it, as if the ruins itself was warning them to leave.

They marched on, in spite of the growing unease among their number.

"Oh, I don't like this one bit, Chrom," Lissa mumbled as she kept close behind her brother. "Haven't you thought that maaaybe this is a bad idea?"

"Maybe Lissa's right," added Olivia. "It doesn't look like anything is here. Perhaps we should call it off."

"Milord, I suggest that we turn back now," said Frederick. "There's nothing wrong with – whoa, easy there!" Suddenly, he reigned in his armored mare, who forcefully threw her head up and stamped her hooves on the floor. Soon, the rest of the horses panicked, neighing loudly at the sound of what appeared to be a low rumble that came from below.

"What's going on?" Lissa asked, holding her staff and tome close to her chest. "Huh?! Chrom, look out!"

A Risen soldier clad in armor rushed towards Chrom, nearly spearing him, yet was deflected with a timely swing of Falchion. Another swing of the sword, and the soldier rasped as it fell and turned into dust. Still, more Risen came, and soon the ruins were alive with the sound of weapons clashing against the undead.

But amid the chaos, Robin couldn't help but notice a lone figure in the distance, also fighting against some Risen on their own. "Chrom!" she yelled above the din. Fortunately for her, Chrom had a respite from the fighting, giving him a chance to approach her.

"What is it, Robin? Have you seen something?"

She nodded. "It looks like there's someone else with us in the distance. Someone not of our own number."

"Are you sure? They may be an enemy for all we know."

"I can't be certain, but I think they may need our help."

"I see – !" he exclaimed, ducking as a Risen mage casted a fireball that flew just a few inches above his head. "But for now, we are nearly overwhelmed by all of these Risen. It's close to impossible if all of us were to suddenly run towards whoever you speak of."

"Then… is it possible if you and the others can hold them off? At least it would be a diversion as I reach out to this person. Can you tell the others to do just that?"

Chrom nodded again. "Then it shall be done. Hopefully, this will provide some time for you. Good luck, Robin."

"Thanks," she replied, running off toward the distant figure. Unbeknown to her, one of them temporarily ceased to fight, briefly watching her as she left the group before following her on his horse.

 

---

 

I hope I'm not too late.

It was Robin's only thought as she dashed through the ruins' hallways, her steps echoing on the worn tiles. Fortunately for her, she only encountered two Risen along the way, and even then, she easily dispatched them with two uses of her Thoron tome. Pressing on, she came to an area where she found something unusual.

Or rather, someone.

Just as the rumors have said, the person standing before her wore a dark coat similar to hers, with Grima's eye symbol adorning the length of the sleeves. But if she thought seeing someone donned in similar attire was strange enough, the figure then turned to look in her direction and removed the hood.

It was the face of a young boy, most likely either a late pre-teen and early teen, which was supported by him being slightly taller than her. He also had short white hair, further confirming the rumors' description, along with the tome and sword he carried in his hands. Yet what captured Robin's attention the most were his eyes, which were gray like hers; somehow, they gave him an air of mystery, despite his current look of mild surprise.

Overall, the boy's uncanniness unnerved her, and she had trouble articulating her thoughts as she stared at him. "You… don't look like a treasure hunter. What brings you here?"

The boy grinned, and exclaimed, "There you are, Mother!" He ran toward her, giving her a surprisingly strong hug that almost knocked her off her feet. "I was beginning to think we got separated!"

Mother? Did this boy really think – no, mistake her for his mother? It was simply improbable, given his and her age.

Still, the boy bore quite the resemblance to her, and not just in terms of appearance: from the way he acted ever so cheerfully upon greeting her, despite apparently having been on his own wandering an ancient ruin, he also appeared to inherit her outlook and personality. He then let her go from his hug, his look now that of confusion and concern as he met her stare.

"Um, Mother? Is there something wrong?"

She shook her head, replying with a mumbling "No," but that didn't stop him from forming a frown upon his face. "Hello? It's me, Morgan. Your son? Do you… remember me?"

To her ears, he seemed like a world away, his voice an echo in her stopped mind. Could it be true? That this boy, the one in front of her right now, was the boy she and Walhart spoke of many nights before? Was he really their child, their son from the future?

And yet, aside from him being slightly taller than her, she couldn't discern any other outright sign that he was Walhart's son: there was a lack of fierceness in his eyes, as well as a lack of a commanding presence. Given his attire, one would be forgiven if they failed to recognize that he was of royal heritage.

It made her wonder if, in the future he arrived from, he was acknowledged as an heir to his father's throne. Or if he ever was even given a chance to learn and become a leader and a ruler. On the other hand, given how he was also her son, she shuddered at the thought of him being used as a pawn for Grima. Yet here he was, seemingly without a thought or care about the Fell Dragon. Overall, he seemed… normal, if a little clueless about the current situation.

Suddenly, Morgan broke his gaze to focus on something behind her. "Hm, who could that be, Mother?" he asked, tapping her on the shoulder, his touch and the sound of hoofbeats on the floor interrupting her thoughts.

At his insisting taps, she turned around and was met with a large, armored man on an equally large, armored horse, who briefly threw its head up as its master tugged on the reins for it to stop moving. "You there!" the man barked, "Who are you, and whatever are you doing here?"

Before Morgan could answer, Robin raised a hand. "Everything's all right, Walhart! It's just…" She took a deep breath. "I'd like you to meet Morgan. He's our son."

It was the first time Robin ever saw Walhart in a state of disbelief.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of The Past Still Resonates, Even After Two Millennia; or, The Conqueror and the Tactician