Chapter Text
Compared to the opulence of the surface, the Lower City of Taris was in rough shape, to say the least. Little sunlight reached this far, and what did was diffuse, like a perpetually overcast sky. Chrom’s senses felt overstimulated in the crowded urban environment, as passers-by, neon signs, and the occasional rodent drew his eye, so much so that he didn't even notice as he stepped in a puddle of oil.
“Watch your step, milord.” A stern, brown-haired man in armor said, pointing to the offending liquid.
“Don't worry about me, Frederick,” Chrom chuckled, gesturing towards his sister. “Worry about Lissa.”
“I'm fine,” his sister said, indignation in her voice. She had her dress bunched up in her hands, keeping the hem well away from the rusted durasteel floor. “Although I wish we didn't need to be down here…”
“I concur with the sentiment,” Frederick said. “Keep your eyes peeled. Streets like these can be treacherous.”
Sure enough, mixed in with the lower-class civilians, beggars, and vagrants, armed thugs sauntered about like they owned the place, many with gang sigils emblazoned on their clothes. Chrom tried to keep his head down, avoiding eye contact as they made their way towards the cantina.
As they passed by an alley, Chrom overheard some of the thugs talking. “We robbin’ her, or what?”
“She seems pretty enough. I say we take her to the boss in chains. No one will miss her…”
Despite himself, Chrom spared a glance. Two men in gang leathers, a human and a Nikto, stood over a limp humanoid form slumped against a wall.
“Milord,” Frederick warned.
Chrom looked away. We can't afford to draw attention, not with the Sith after us…
“Heh, I say we have some fun with her first,” one of the thugs said.
Chrom's hand twitched. Damn it all. He stopped, turning to the thugs in the alley. Frederick shot him a stern look, but took a position to the side of the alley.
“Maybe you should just leave her,” Chrom said.
“Yeah!” Lissa shouted. “Leave her alone! She didn't do anything to you.”
The Nikto stepped forwards. “Yeah? Says who?”
Damn it, why can't I just leave well enough alone…
But he had a feeling. Maybe it was intuition. Maybe it was the Force. But something in his gut said he should do something.
So he stood his ground.
The Nikto drew a blaster. “Beat it, rich boy.”
“I’d advise you reconsider,” Frederick said from behind the thug, blaster rifle trained directly on his skull. “Assuming you wish to keep your head, that is.”
The Nikto growled. “Rrr… fine. Krev, let's go.” He glared back at Chrom. “But this isn't over.”
Frederick lowered his rifle, keeping his eye on the two men as departed the alleyway. He sighed. “I'm unsure if that was wise, milord.”
As though surfacing from water, sound slowly returned.
“...ave to do something!”
“Well, what do you propose we do?”
Sensation returned sharply, like a cold knife piercing the void of unconsciousness.
Parted eyelids gave way to piercing light, two shadowy forms standing above her. She squeezed them shut again.
“Well, I don't know, I…”
Her eyes opened again, the shadows fading into blurry forms of a man and a younger girl. Seeing the woman stir, the girl interrupted herself with a gasp.
“I see you're awake now,” the man said.
He was clad in a silver-trimmed navy tunic, lightly armored, somewhat aristocratic in bearing. His eyes were warm despite their deep blue color, which matched the color of his hair. His features were strong with the barest hint of youthful softness.
The girl leaned over the man's shoulder. Blonde with twin pigtails, she contrasted starkly with him. “Hey there!”
The man gave a mirthful smile. “There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know,” he said. He lowered a gloved palm. “Take my hand.”
Mind still dazed, the woman placed a slender hand in his. A strange symbol stood out on the back of it, a crest with six eyes marking the bare skin.
That's weird.
Preoccupied by her lack of familiarity with the back of her own hand, she was startled as the man gently yet firmly pulled her to her feet. Still dazed, the sudden flow of blood from her head made her stumble slightly, and he caught her.
From up close, she was afforded a clear view of the man's striking features. Too close, perhaps.
He seems quite handsome.
Now where did that thought come from?
Closing her eyes, she shook her head to clear it, taking a step back, ignoring the faint warmth in her cheeks. “Thanks, Chrom.”
The man cocked his head. “Oh? Have we met?”
She blinked. “No? I… I don't think I know you…?”
She racked her brain, trying to find where she'd seen him before.
And came up completely empty.
“Hmm.” The man offered a smile. “Well, it's nice to meet you, miss…?
“Right,” she said. “My name is…”
Her mind was a blank.
She frowned. “My name is…” she repeated, as though starting to say it would force the words out.
Nothing.
Lissa’s brow furrowed curiously. “Do you not know your own name?”
“I-I'm sorry,” the woman said. “I… where are we, exactly?”
The surly looking man in armor scowled. “You mean to tell me you know Chrom’s name, but not your own? We ought to pay this actress, she plays quite the fool.”
“I-It’s the truth!” she stammered.
The man (Frederick, his name is Frederick, I can remember that at least) held his blaster closely, though still trained towards the floor.
Average time to raise weapon 500 to 1000 milliseconds. Point blank range, negligible aiming time. Fleeing inadvisable.
Okay, where the kriff did that thought come from?!
“Peace, Frederick,” Chrom said, placing an arm on the other man's shoulder. “To answer your question, we're in the Lower City of Taris.”
He gestured to the others. “I'm Chrom, but, well, you already knew that. This here is Frederick, and this is my sister, Lissa.”
“Heya!” the girl said, flashing a toothy smile.
She felt a sudden sharp pain in her temple, as a faint echo reverberated in her mind.
A woman's voice, faint, distant, yet familiar.
run
I'll hold them off
be safe, Robin
She blinked.
“Robin,” she said.
Chrom raised a brow. “Hmm?”
“Robin,” Robin said. “My name, it's Robin.” She grinned. “Guess that's one mystery solved!”
“Robin,” Chrom repeated, slowly, as if testing how it felt. He must have liked it, as his lips curled into a grin. “Nice to meet you, Robin.”
Hearing it from the lips of another made her certain of its familiarity. “Nice to meet you too, Chrom.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Frederick interjected, “but I think it's best we move before we attract any unwanted—”
“Oi! Rich boy!” a voice shouted from the other end of the alleyway.
A gruff-looking Nikto stood tall, brandishing a blaster menacingly. He was flanked on either side by a small posse of thugs in matching jackets, some with blasters while others carried blades or crude bludgeons.
“I told ya this wasn't over!”