It had been a while since Chrom last visited the Shepherds' garrison. His small peacekeeping militia to an indispensable part of the Ylissean armed forces, with a renown which had only increased since the war. Their inventory was now stocked with iron and steel weapons, even the occasional silver arm, potent tomes of both anima and dark magic, and staves of all forms of healing. With so many of its members befriended or married, the Shepherds remained a tight-knit group, even as smaller parties left to take care of odd jobs across the land, at Robin's recommendations. Only Virion had left Ylisse after the end of the Mad King, though he still sent short letters to Chrom. Lon'qu and Cordelia had also moved into the castle to live with Lissa and Frederick, and Ricken and Maribelle always stayed there as guests.

When he entered the common and dining rooms of the barracks, he only saw Shepherds currently off duty. Stahl caught his attention, trying his best to keep up a conversation with Olivia, who was not shrinking away like she tended to. Chrom had known them long enough to understand Stahl's genuine friendliness worked as well for the shy young woman as it did for Sully.

He hated to break the conversation, but he had to know where Robin was. The library was empty.

Olivia fiddled her hair. Stahl answered, "Libra said he seemed unusually tired last night, so he's slept in. Has something happened?"

"Oh! No, no, it's nothing. I just wanted his opinion on something. A matter of the court," he added.

"Of course," Stahl agreed. "You're technically the exalt, now. You've got a halidom to run. None of us could do that."

Chrom hadn't believed he could be exalt either. "I'm sorry I can't visit more often. I fear the day I start losing muscle, too."

"Nobody holds that against you. And if you ever feel like swinging a sword to blow off some steam, come by anytime. It's been a while. Maybe Sully and I could get you started on lances."

Gods, it had been long, yet Stahl had remembered an interest of his from before tensions had exploded between Ylisse and Plegia. A grin stretched across Chrom's face as he ducked back out of the common room. "I will."

In hindsight, he should have considered it, but he hadn't expected Robin's first sentence to be just short of a rage-fuelled yell.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Uh..." Chrom hurried to shut the door. "Gaius and I—"

"Decided to go to the most ghoul-infested area of Ylisstol, with a scent that'll attract them from miles, with nothing to defend yourself with?! How could you be so foolish?!"

"That's..." Not what he came here for. Chrom refocused. "I came here to talk to you about ghouls, but not that. Besides, we were armed, and you found us. Nothing happened."

The ghoul turned away from Chrom and grabbed the Grimleal coat. "Not this time."

Robin had always been rather skinny, with only the leanest of muscle, which Chrom now realised was enough to make him that much stronger than any of the human Shepherds. Watching him shrug on his coat, it seemed Robin's body, though nonetheless slim, had become a little fuller. He had gained weight.

Robin had gained weight.

Chrom felt faint.

He wanted to say something, anything to distract from the oncoming nausea. The half-ghoul cut him off.

"No, Chrom. Listen! You are so ridiculously lucky I went out and that our paths crossed when they did. Others can easily follow the smell of a delicacy. I can't. I have sharp senses for a ghoul, yes, but finding a bad smell when a place like that is nothing but rotten stenches is not so easy. I could have easily lost you. Don't underestimate just how lucky you were, ending up in my territory."

Of course, Robin had the right of it, but his stomach only roiled more.

"What about that child? Did you—?"

He looked away. "I'm not sure what her story is, but she's starving and has no parents to feed her."

"You mean she's still alive?"

"Yes." Robin did not leave his relief a chance to settle. "Does that bother you?"

"Of course not! What made you think that?"

"I can't be sure where you stand in all this... You were surprised, but I couldn't tell if you cared," he admitted, and seemed sincere. "The humans who killed her parents certainly did not."

The words felt like a stab to his gut. "You think humans killed her parents?"

"Yes."

Chrom lowered his gaze. The way Robin had said that reminded him of the night Plegia had attempted to assassinate Emm. Perhaps this was how his amnesic friend had felt when first hearing of the past genocide. It was a feeling of guilt more abstract than when young Chrom had first realised how pointless the war his father was waging truly was, yet still just as familiar. Only this time, he was accused not as Ylissean royalty, but as a human.

"But she's alright?"

"Yes. And I won't say anything more about her."

Chrom exhaled, tried to breathe deeply through the receding unease. He wanted to ask more about her but realised this was a side of Robin he had never been privy to, and perhaps never would. "That's just as well. I need to discuss something else with you. We found out that Duke Assedis was killed. Likely a month ago, and likely by a ghoul. I was thinking you might know something."

"And what would you do with that information?" Robin questioned. "Bring a ghoul to the courthouse?"

Chrom paused. "Oh. I suppose not... I'd... I'd see about alerting the CCG. But then, you..."

"But then I am a ghoul."

"Half-ghoul," Chrom felt the need to correct.

"That's worse."

"But..." He really had not thought this through. "Urgh." He shifted, then started pacing.

Once news of Duke Assedis' murder reached the council, they would demand he contact the CCG, or do it themselves, more the sake of justice and preventing ghouls striking even closer to home than for one truant member. He supposedly had no reason not to act.

He should have long turned Robin in. He had researched the Ghoul Countermeasures Laws since finding out his friend was a ghoul. They had been adopted in every nation worldwide, apart from Plegia, supposedly on religious grounds. (Though he now suspected it had more to do with Gangrel's reign than the Grimleal. The legislation regarding ghouls of non-Plegian origin was particularly touchy.) A few particular articles were written with unquestionable legal consequences. They were burned into his mind.

Article 12:

1. A species, against which special precautions should be taken, known as ghouls, are distinct in that it is confirmed that they can produce kakugan and kagune.
2. In relation to the subjects distinguished as ghouls, there are no laws that protect these individuals.

Article 88:

1. Persons harbouring or otherwise preventing the arrest of a ghoul will be severely punished.

As for said punishment, Article 119 declared harbouring or preventing the arrest of a ghoul punishable by death. Chrom could not be certain how being found guilty of harbouring ghouls would affect him as the reigning monarch. Yet of course, if he attempted to change of those laws, he might just as well declare to the world that he broke them.

He doubted he could change anything if he tried. He had no political power over the CCG.

In contacting the CCG, he would be summoning men who specialised in killing ghouls right to Robin's doorstep. He did not know how ghoul investigators hunted man-eaters, nor could he estimate the brutality of their weaponry or the power of their hatred; who other than someone who had already lost to ghouls would willingly be trained to kill them professionally?

Yet he had no choice. Refusal was simply not an option. Robin had to know that he still had a chance of escaping the CCG alive.

Chrom could only condemn Robin, but he could also try to take the CCG's attention from him with more information on the true killer. So, he asked again, "Do you know what ghoul killed him?"

Robin tightened the fastening of his coat, eyes losing the glaze of thought. "I might. What did he look like? The duke, I mean."

Chrom's persistence had long faded to resignation. He answered with a certain bitterness. "Um, overweight, wears too much perfume. His ring was engraved with his dynasty's emblem, a lion attacking a boar."

"I ate him."

Chrom blinked.

"What?"

The ghoul's voice was toneless. "I said, I ate him. He was in my territory."

Chrom saw Duke Assedis' bloated face, smelled the stench of his perfume burning his sinuses mixing with blood, entrails, rot and Robin's red teeth bared and he gagged.

"Robin! How could—? I just explained, he—"

Robin had the decency to look a little guilty, but spoke unrepentantly. "I didn't realise who he was at the time, but I still don't see the problem in him dying. You often complain about the council members seeking to only further their personal aims, or your father's, this man in particular. He wasn't of any use to his sovereign or even his land."

"He had a family! Friends!"

The ghoul's brows crinkled. "So has every man we've ever killed."

"Is that the only example you can think of? You can't compare murder with war!"

"Are those two so different?"

How could Robin be so nonchalant about his death? Why didn't he care who he killed?! Was everything human about Robin just a façade?

"Yes! What happened to the boy I found in that field? What happened to the boy so horrified at his first kill in Southtown?!"

Robin stared at him as if Chrom was the one spouting nonsense. "That delusional part of me led a very brief existence."

"Delusional? You mean human?!"

Robin grimaced. "Yes, delusional. It seems at their core, ghouls and humans are the same hypocrites."

Chrom saw red. "But not monsters!"

He realised his words a moment too late.

Robin broke the eye contact in favour of staring somewhere around Chrom's waist. He stepped back.

"Go," he said, a whisper compared to his tone before.

The prince forced himself to relax his grip on Falchion. "I'm sorr—"

"You're not." Robin turned to his desk. "Go."

He gazed at Robin's back for a moment longer, then turned and stalked out of the room, not bothering to shut the door gently.

He could only walk a few steps before he heaved a deep sigh. How else could that have gone? He shouldn't have expected morality from someone who survived by murdering others. Someone who gained weight in killing Ylisseans. Someone who had admitted to devouring a duke. An unholy Grimaspawn.

He leaned against the wall a moment longer, took a deep breath, then headed for the stairway back to the communal area. Stahl and Olivia were gone, but Frederick intercepted him.

"Could Robin offer any counsel, milord?"

For a terrifying moment, Chrom thought he knew. But of course not. He was referring to the human side of the battle.

Chrom shook his head and asked for Libra to be sent his way. Why he wanted to speak to him, he wasn't certain. To ask for advice on what to do? To talk to the parent about his child's misbehaviour? Or to just ask what the hell was wrong with that child? He just didn't know.

Libra had been recruited late during the campaign against Plegia, and so neither Chrom nor many of the other Shepherds knew him very well. He led a rather unsocial existence compared to the rest of them, Robin being the only exception. Later that afternoon in the prince's office, the war monk absorbed what he was told in pensive silence.

He withheld judgement for a few more minutes before he started, "It seems to me that, by the end of your discussion, you both spoke with the intent to hurt."

That was entirely true. Chrom had admitted to his mistake in that, but he had not realised Robin would have been so irritable.

"He's been eating more, hasn't he?" he asked. "And his sense of empathy is... He wouldn't harm the Shepherds. Dukes, commoners, any innocents should be no different."

"You must bear in mind that the Shepherds are friends he's grown close to." The calm severity of his gaze was so familiar it silenced Chrom. "Robin knows that killing is wrong, and that he should never harm innocents. But he simply cannot survive like that. If he were to feel the same empathy for his victims as he does the Shepherds, he would never eat. Apathy and only a theoretical idea of the value of life are all he can allow, or he will starve."

"But he didn't like killing on the battlefield. He doesn't like unnecessary bloodshed... Does he?"

Libra interlocked his fingers on the desk. "Nor do you or I, milord. We are both undoubtedly haunted by the knowledge of the lives we took. Robin does feel the same, to an extent. He knows that bloodshed could have been avoided, but I must return to the same point again; that to survive, he has no choice. I believe he does know remorse, he simply cannot allow himself to feel it properly."

"Emm believed ghouls and humans were just as smart as each other..."

"And she wasn't wrong," Libra said, "The intelligence of humans and ghouls is equal, only many ghouls aren't schooled. It is how they think which differs, largely from their upbringing. A human can look at a dead body and feel disgust. A ghoul can witness the same thing but see an opportunity. They must."

"So, Robin doesn't care for human lives other than those of the Shepherds?"

"I'm afraid so, sire. He can learn to care for his friends. But for strangers and enemies... He grew up among clergymen, so he gained human values. But... during his four-year stay in Chon'sin, which he presumably spent surrounded by ghouls, those values were questioned. He returned when he was fourteen, so he was old enough to understand both mindsets. He's always been rather intelligent, after all..."

"So, if he understands my logic, why? Just why?"

"There is no middle ground. Kill and eat. Spare and starve. He's no psychopath, but empathy for his victims would drive him mad. It does many ghouls, to my understanding."

"I..." Chrom rested his forehead on his hands. "I've found myself trusting him less and less. Frederick warned me from the beginning, but I gave Robin the benefit of the doubt, and he was a valuable ally, and friend. But... When we were escaping Plegia, all I saw was a Grimleal. When we found out about him, I... For a... a horrible moment, all I saw was a Grimaspawn. I just..."

"You are the only person Robin knows who could kill him."

Chrom scowled. "Since when could I do that? He's a ghoul."

Libra's gaze rested on his hands. "You may remember, Falchion cut through him like it would a human. He knows to fear the few things which can maim him. Just as he knows that there is nothing to be done about his body."

He leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face. "How have you managed this all these years?"

Libra's eyes fell. "It is difficult. How to understand something so morally grey cannot be taught. But I tell myself this: Humans and ghouls can be equally cruel. I have seen it. As have you, sire."

Chrom was not known for his tact and sensitivity, but he knew not to inquire further on that admission. "Is that what Robin meant by us both being hypocrites?"

"Most likely. Both try to justify the unjustifiable act of murder, be it as food, an outlet for rage, or ridding oneself of an enemy."

Chrom sighed. "He probably hates me for what I said."

Libra shook his head. "Robin doesn't have a hateful bone in his body. His first reaction will always be fear."

Like a cornered wolf, attacking as defence. That sentence came to mind against his better judgment, but the truth of it remained.

Frankly, Libra found the term Grimaspawn laughable. Robin had been so incredibly faithful to Naga as a child and, according to his mother, many other ghouls were. Others felt unworthy or compelled to worship the fell dragon as their namesake dictated. She had told Libra it was the natural response to their existence.

Ri'ze's response to their past had never once wavered from absolute faith. She prayed to the Divine Dragon as much as the highest in the Cathedral. She had always encouraged Robin to do the same, reinforced that with greater severity than any of her other lessons. The son had done as she bade, aiming to impress her and exceed the expectations of all others. The latter had been an easy enough feat, never once failed, but his mother had never seemed quite satisfied. Thinking back, it was likely paranoia that drove her so.

Once they had returned from Chon'sin, it had been another facet of Robin which had shifted. With the greater worldly, moral, and religious knowledge he had gained, he had grown much the same as other ghouls. He was by no means an atheist; he had absolute faith in the Divine Dragon's providence in their world and the protection her light brought. What he doubted was his worthiness of receiving that succour. He never once turned down joining Libra or his mother in prayer, yet even as he knelt, he held himself lower than the others. The one time Libra had caught him praying of his own volition, he had been grovelling before an icon.

He had grown to hate himself for what he was. Ri'ze loathed to see him so, but knew she could do nothing. Libra had tried countless times to offer words of comfort and reassurance, but they both knew it was futile. Nothing would change that Robin was a Grimaspawn. Nothing would change his heritage. That was the simple truth of the matter.

Over the past year, Robin had occasionally asked the meaning of a religious proverb, a holiday's origins, or if people gathered for various ceremonies and celebrations as an act of faith. He had been curious about the practices and the context needed for what he read in history books, but had never once asked how to participate. He acknowledged Libra's beliefs but had never expressed his own. Instead, he kept a respectful distance. Robin had lost his faith with his memories, and the more he thought about it, the more it tore Libra apart. Would inviting him to pray now confuse him? Or perhaps reawaken the forgotten piety? He had no clue, and it was one of the many tragedies the amnesia brought that he told himself he would live with, quietly, because at the same time, he would never wish to be the one to reawaken his brother's worst memories.

Losing his past had changed Robin. Libra had no way of knowing how profound these changes were. He knew his brother, but he was just as oblivious to the world of ghouls as Prince Chrom. Would he have expected the Robin of the past to murder a member of the council? No, just as His Highness hadn't known to expect this when he had chosen to embrace Robin despite their differences. But perhaps they should have. As inevitable as it was for those who sheltered ghouls to be confronted with their conflict, it always seemed so distant, until it wasn't.

Libra was approaching the Shepherds' garrison, passing the training field. Sully and Stahl were locked in the middle of their usual sparring match. Nowi cheered them on between playing tag with Donnel, who was still in his full plate armour from guard duty. Much like Ri'ze had trained her son to do, Lord Lon'qu was practising his form by repeating the same swings with his killing edge countless times. Princess Lissa was not far from her husband, taking pointers from Robin on how to use the wind tome in her grasp.

A look of concentration pinched her face as she recited the incantation. Glowing tunes encircled her and green arcs of magic burst from their sigil, slicing into the wooden dummy half a dozen metres away.

"I did it! Lon'qu! Look!"

"Very good, Lissa," he answered while wiping the sweat from his brow.

Robin stepped back, towards Libra. "Again, Lissa!"

The war monk approached. Robin watched Lissa ready for her next attempt.

"You've spoken to Chrom."

"Yes. He was rather unsettled."

"Are you?"

"Of course."

Lissa cast the spell and shredded more of the dummy. Again, Robin nodded in approval.

"It didn't occur to me to lie when he asked about the killer." He corrected Lissa's posture, then stepped back again. "It would have been kinder."

"This confrontation was inevitable."

Prince Chrom had no choice in what was to come. Robin had no choice but to accept the consequences. Libra had no choice but to watch and hope. There was no justice in any of these actions, but he had no idea what else could be done.

He had no doubt that Robin would be alright. While he had no idea of his strength, his mind alone would assure his survival. But what then? As far as Robin was concerned, peace had always been an illusion. There was only a temporary reprieve.

A/N: Apparently, I will always write out the chapter, edit it, leave it sitting there for months, edit it again, post it and remain unsatisfied.

At least I could enjoy writing Libra's musings. That happened all in one go, because of course I had to hurt him some more.