The plan went off without a hitch.

Before anyone could even guess what happened, before the shock wore off and the true fighting began, the Shepherds pushed their way into the bandit's camp. Archers were quickly silenced by Virion, who picked each one off with ease. To his back, Frederick and Vaike cheered as the risk of getting an arrow in their back was eliminated. Miriel launched fireballs to any clever bandit that dove for cover when Virion aimed their way. The flames were merciless, and no amount of hiding behind a tree or a boulder would save them from the vicious bite of the fire. Any bandit that thought they could sneak up on the group, their daggers sharp and ready to slice the ranged specialists' throats, were sliced apart by the muscle that stood guard around them. It was so simple that it was downright monotonous.

Chrom's party was... less successful.

Taking on the brunt of the camp, with no ranged support to provide cover or suppressing fire, was less than an ideal strategy. There were far more than just seven or eight. At all sides, they were surrounded by homicidal lunatics. If Chrom had to really put a number to it, he guessed that there were thirty bandits around them. Thirty. Thirty. If they weren't careful, they would very easily get picked off by the crowd around them. Chrom gripped his sword tight, tighter than he ever held it before. He had to hope that they would handle the mess they threw themselves in, or Frederick came to bail them out as a good friend would...

"I can't believe I'm begging now..." Chrom sighed as he wanted to punch himself for the pathetic thoughts. All they had to do was kill them all. The Shepherds were professionals, elites. Stinking bandits that robbed farmers for a living could never truly hold a candle to them. Even though he knew that, the fear that crept up his back like a spider refused to end.

The air was still. Completely still. As though time itself has been frozen. Chrom looked behind him, to his companions. Sully and Stahl held their weapons at the ready, and never let their eyes leave the bandits. Lissa murmured to herself, and her hands shook as she clenched her staff. Donnel ground his teeth so hard that Chrom could hear it. The fury emanated from the boy to the point that Chrom could all but feel it. His eyes drifted to Sumia... who was staring right back at him.

"Sh-Shit!" Chrom screamed in his head before he snapped back to the bandits. His face went bright red, and a cold sweat covered his hands. Was Sumia always looking at him? How long was she staring at him? Why was she staring at him when they were surrounded by vicious killers? Did she do that often? How many battles did she look at him? Why was he so embarrassed to think that she was looking at him?

"Look out, ya dumb prince!" Donnel shouted, his spear thrust deep into the belly of an attacking bandit. The attacker splattered hard against the ground, blood flowed from the wound and drenched Chrom in the red juice as he was lost in his thoughts. The barbarian was dead in seconds, and Donnel ripped his spear from his body just in time to see another bandit charge towards them.

"I'm not a dumb prince!" Chrom responded in kind as he slashed the brigand's chest open. His cheeks were still stained bright red, both by the mixture of blood splattered onto him and the blush that refused to leave. He couldn't help but take small glances back to Sumia, who had little trouble cutting through the bandits that tried to rip her off of her pegasus. Chrom admired the way she handled that lance of hers. In mere blinks of an eye the bandits were countered, ran through, and impaled. Just the way she fought captivated Chrom like never before. Why did he never notice her skill level? Sure, she was clumsy off the battlefield, but when she got on a horse she was the deadliest thing alive. A real warrior-goddess that Chrom could watch for hours.

"Well quit lookin' at pretty girls and get back to fightin'!" Donnel roared, and tore Chrom out of his mental nirvana. The farmer boy was locked into a melee with a particularly nasty opponent. He was large, as in massive. A giant of a man that towered over everyone of the Shepherds. The hair on him was so thick that they weren't sure what was furred armor and what was attached to his body. His beard draped down past his chest, and tickled the ground. In his hands, he held a rusted war-hammer. The head of the weapon was a slab of solid stone, chips broken off at the corners and a large split that ran down the middle. Rust ate away at the handle, which was a cheap iron rod with weathered leather and rags draped over it to help with handling.

The beast of a bandit swung down at Donnel, who only just barely scraped past the attack. Thought it did take the bottom sole of his left boot, his callused foot exposed to the grass and twigs. Donnel jabbed his spear at the monster, and felt it penetrate the thick hide, but no blood every shot out. He wasn't even sure the weapon damaged him in any way. The knees, the arms, the throat, the thigh, anywhere Donnel stabbed, nothing happened. Not even the slightest flinch to register the pain.

Donnel was sure that he was dead. Everyone was too busy to help him. Stahl, Sumia, and Sully were stuck fending off their own attackers. The gaggle of enemies threw themselves onto the swords and spears of the experienced soldiers just enough to keep them from breaking off to support him. Lissa swung her staff around wildly, her eyes closed shut and absolutely zero coordination to her attacks. She couldn't help him even if she tried. As each of these truths set in, Donnel watched the inhuman criminal inch that weapon of his high into the air. Even if he did attack, or tried to run, the speed of that hammer would split his skull like a melon. The only possible person that could help him was Chrom. And Chrom was-

"I'll have you know!" Chrom began, his Falchion buried deep into the throat of the giant. The hammer fell to the earth with such weight that Donnel's entire body shook. Chrom leapt in just in time to keep Donnel safe from the attack. The boy let out a heavy sigh, his breath torn from his lungs as the weight on his shoulders vanished immediately. Relief washed through his body like a cleansing rain. At least until Chrom spoke again. "I wasn't 'looking at pretty girls!' I was checking to make sure our allies weren't in trouble!"

"You keep stealing looks at that horse lady," Donnel said as he watched Chrom pull his sword out from the giant bandit. The body crumpled to the Earth, and the once thick crowd of thieves and killers was so thin that they could tell the end was near. Roddick was the one that mattered. If he died, the rest would fold and run. They just needed to kill him. If they killed him, it would be all over, and Donnel would have peace. So why was the idiot prince so worried about looking at women!?

"She's on a pegasus!" Chrom argued, that red tint to his face darkened to near purple. "Every time it flaps its wings, I see it in the corner of my eye!"

"She's behind you, you idiot!" Donnel shot back, anger in his veins as he felt his intelligence receive a terrible insult. Did Chrom actually think that excuse would work? What the hell was he thinking? Why was his face so dark?

"Is it so wrong to be worried about my friend!?" Chrom sniped, his eyes once again drifted over to Sumia, his head spun back around to look at the pegasus knight. He tried to keep them on the bandits, on Donnel, on anything else, but they kept going back to her. To the way her hair flowed in the breeze. To the way her armor pressed into her well hidden curves. To the way her eyes shined in the daylight, her face contorted into a look of disgusted revulsion as she stared back-oh shit.

"GODS! What is wrong with me!?" Chrom spat in his brain. It had to be the dry spell that Emmeryn forced onto him. He was losing his mind due to the lack of female company. That's all it was, nothing else. Sumia wasn't beautiful, or charming, or kindhearted, it was all a delusion in his head to get him to lay someone. He knew it wasn't true. Sumia was the boring, clumsy bookworm that baked pies and read bad romance books. Not the embodiment of beauty that he kept seeing. Not the absolute perfection that made him want to hold her tight against him and-NO.

"Come on, we gotta kill Roddick!" Donnel ordered, and once again brought Chrom out of his mind and back to reality. Donnel charged ahead without Chrom, and weaved through what remained of the bandits. Where once there was at least thirty men, less than ten remained. The smart ones dropped their weapons and pressed their heads against the ground, pathetic pleas for mercy escaped their mouths. The more adamant of the crew charged forward, and Chrom sliced through them like hot butter. His sword separated limbs from torsos with ease, and he ran after the boy who was blind with vengeance.

"Right!" Chrom screamed far louder than he intended. He kept his eyes peeled for any stragglers. The rest of the Shepherds seized the surviving bandits and subdued them without incident. All that was left was Roddick. Only after he died was the battle truly over. They could finally end all of this madness and get back to their goal in Ferox. Besides, Robin needed to be far from the battlefield and by the Gods, Chrom completely forgot about Robin. She was still in that carriage. By herself. While they were surrounded by vicious killers that could have easily slipped past them and destroyed their way out. Though he doubted that was the case, Chrom felt a wave of shame rock through him as he never even considered the possibility. Granted, Robin showed more than once that she could take care of herself, in a sense. At least, in the same way that she could slice a man's head off, but that was about it. She still slept with stuffed animals...

The two charged through the camp, and scanned each of the bodies on the ground for signs of the rat-faced leader they targeted. None of the faceless corpses stood out from each other, and the search felt more hopeless by the second. Not one shred of evidence that Roddick was there remained. Donnel muttered out 'No' again and again as he ran around to each of the simple wooden structures that acted like tents for the bandits. No matter how many he searched, how many he kicked down, or how many he threw burning torches into, Roddick was gone. Like a ghost, the chief disappeared, and there was no way to find him. Too many footprints littered the ground to get a grasp on which ones could have been his. He wasn't wounded, so no blood trail could have given them a clue.

All in all, it looked like the mission was a failure. Not a complete one, they still managed to collapse the camp and prevent further attacks on the village. But Donnel wasn't able to avenge his father. Chrom wasn't sure why, he barely knew the boy, but the twinge of disappointment was heavy in the post battle silence. He watched the boy collapse to his knees, and sobs echoed in the camp. Chrom walked to the boy, and put his hand on his head. It wasn't much, and it did nothing to cease Donnel's crying, but it was all he could do. Comforting words would only dig into the fresh wound. Sometimes, it was better to simply let one let out their sorrow.

"You guys're movin' on after this...?" Donnel asked suddenly, his voice shattered like glass and choked on every word. Chrom fell back in shock, and struggle to stay balanced. It was a sudden question. Very sudden. Of all the things the boy would worry about, why would it be about that?

"We're going to help your village," Chrom answered, and removed his hand from the boy's head. Donnel got back to his feet, and wiped away the tears from his face. His eyes were swollen red, and he still wept openly. "We can't stay forever, but we're not just going to abandon your people."

"I'm comin' with ya," Donnel said firmly, his hands clenched tight, and his back straightened. Tears ran down his cheeks as Donnel puffed out his chest. "I ain't just gonna go home and forget that Roddick is still out there. That ain't proper!"

Chrom rubbed the back of his neck. One battle was something, and the kid did watch his back for him, but he was just a boy. Between him and Robin, Chrom felt like he bathed his soul in sewage. Even so, Donnel had a point. Roddick was sure to come back eventually. Roaches like him always came back. And Donnel deserved the peace of mind. Chrom groaned as he already imagined the nasty looks Sumia and Lissa would give him when he made the announcement, let alone Emmeryn. He was sure that he was due an earful for showing up to Ferox late. Though, he did save a village and stop a bandit camp. So he shouldn't get any shit from them.

"Alright," Chrom muttered, rubbing his face as the weariness of the battle finally set in. His muscles burned like hot oil was poured on him, and he shook as he stood. All he wanted to do was fall asleep right there, but he could at least push himself to a carriage and collapse into a bedroll. Besides, Donnel needed an answer. "You did well. Certainly still an amateur," Donnel's face sank as the word 'amateur' graced his ears, "but you have potential. But what about your mother? She must still be grieving, why not stay with her?"

"My Ma wouldn't stop grievin' until Roddick was dead," Donnel said, "I need to do this, and she'd want me to."

"So it's all about revenge then?" Chrom asked as he began his walk back to the convoy. They wasted enough time securing the camp, and Chrom felt lightheaded as his exhaustion weighed him down like he had boulders chained to every muscle. Donnel followed him closely behind, like a puppy that never left his master's side. "Be careful with that. Revenge can be a powerful motivator, but it's venomous. It'll eat you alive, if you're not careful."

"I'm careful," Donnel shot back, his voice cracked as he forced the words out. His face glowed with the same pink that coated Chrom's cheeks earlier. "I ain't a dumb kid. Just need to see him die."

"Those are famous last words, my friend," Chrom sighed as he realized his words utterly failed. He expected it though, the driven never kept themselves calm. Still, Chrom could at least watch out for him. Donnel certainly needed it. No reason to let him die so early into his future career. The last thing Chrom could think about before he blacked out completely, his mind refused to keep any memory of how he got to his bedroll as his stamina drained like a broken dam, was one very simple thought.

"I wonder how Robin is doing?"

A/N

So this chapter was considerably shorter than the last few. I put an update on profile that explained a bit, but essentially I'm getting used to the schedule I have at my new job. On top of that, I'm studying for my real estate license so I can quit said job (it's a temporary position in a kitchen to keep up on bills) and work at my own pace. For now, chapters might be shorter, and come out a bit more sporadically. But I'm definitely having fun now that I'm back with this.

Any way, just one segment this chapter, next one is gonna have two or three. I just only had the energy for one this time.