“Chrom!”
The cry rang out as Robin watched his best friend crumple to the ground. That last magic strike had hit hard. He’d been unable to block just one hit, and now Chrom would suffer from it.
The dispenser of the final blow still stood strong and tall. A sorcerer, one the Shepherds had dealt with for a while. At first, they’d paid the mysterious man little attention–a few dead assassins were the only threat he’d posed.
That was before he raided their camp. Already tired from their fight against a horde of Risen, the Shepherds had been entirely caught off guard. They returned to find their camp crawling with enemies. Chrom had lead the charge as usual, with Robin covering for him. But now, Robin had failed his single task of protecting Chrom. Ylisse’s leader was gravely injured, and it was all his fault.
For once, Robin’s tactical brain blanked. He abandoned his current battle and bolted to Chrom’s side.
“Gods, Chrom, not you…” he whispered as he looked Chrom over. A small puddle of blood had formed where he’d been hit–right in the stomach. Robin winced and leaned in to examine the wound. It was, unfortunately, deep.
A yell from behind him reminded Robin that this was a battle. He whispered a swift apology to Chrom and stood, lightning magic crackling around his hand. In a single movement, he whipped around and sent a bolt straight through the Berserker attempting to charge him.
Robin scanned the battlefield. Their enemies had thinned since the beginning of the battle, but so had his own allies. There was no guarantee as to who’d emerge victorious if this kept up. And with their commander on the ground…
They must’ve not noticed yet, or they simply refused to stop. Robin looked for that sorcerer. If that man was the enemy commander, then removing him would render his troops leaderless. Then, the Shepherds would pick off any remaining foes.
But there was no need. Robin heard the call for retreat, and it wasn’t from his own side. Darkened troops shot past him.
A sudden concern for Chrom overcame him, and he kneeled next to his friend’s body, letting his dark cloak partially cover it. Robin glared up, daring anyone to try and separate them.
Luckily, not a single enemy attempted to throw one last blow at either of them. Robin felt a sense of relief which faded the moment the sorcerer stepped into view. The man was staring at them, his eyes practically burning with hatred.
Robin readied an Arcthunder and glared right back. The sorcerer scowled. He raised his own clawed hand, holding the palm up, and then clenched it into a fist.
Chrom suddenly screeched in pain and writhed beneath him. Robin yelped with surprise, almost thrown off by the sudden movement. He wildly looked over Chrom, trying to keep an eye on both his friend and current enemy.
Chrom’s wound was glowing. Oh, no.
“H-hold on, okay?” Robin whispered, jerking back up to face the sorcerer. Except…he was gone. The battlefield was devoid of enemies. Lon’qu darted past him; the assassin would handle any stragglers. He heard the sound of hooves as the knights began to regroup to patrol. From somewhere nearby, Lissa cried out for her brother.
“Over here!” Robin waved his hand in the air, gesturing her over.
////
For two days, Robin had viciously researched hexes. Their new ally, Henry, had identified the spell which ailed Chrom: a draining hex. He’d tried to break it, but every attempt ended with the glow increased and Chrom convulsing as if shocked. Robin had watched, agonized, as Chrom shrieked, more of an asylum patient more than the ruler of Ylisse. Henry hadn’t seemed concerned and asked if Robin would like him to incapacitate their patient.
Robin flipped another page. None of the books he’d picked out helped. He silently cursed Ylisse’s lack of spellbooks. Chrom was dying and there was nothing he could do!
Robin lowered his head and closed his book. All his efforts felt useless. It was his fault Chrom was dying, and he couldn’t even help to cure him…
But perhaps he could at least be there. Even if Chrom had his eyes closed, Robin could sit by him and read or tell him about some new strategies.
Mind made up, Robin stood, pushing his chair back. He placed his closed book on the disheveled desk before him and walked to the bookshelf besides his bed. Robin kept all of his favorite books on that specific bookcase. He ran his fingertips over the leather covers, trying to decide which to bring. Eventually, he selected three and left his room, passing through the torchlit hallway quietly. Outside, the sun had just set. Usually, Robin would have to cross the palace in order to get to Chrom’s room, but since the ruler of Ylisse was sick, his caretakers were permitted to stay closer to him.
Robin knocked lightly on Chrom’s door, more so to check if anyone else was inside. He received no answer and invited himself in.
Chrom’s room was dimly lit by an oil lamp on his clean desk. His bed was pushed into the left corner of the room with his desk and chair next to it. That way, he could smoothly transition from work to sleep. Besides the basic furniture, Chrom had a few maps pinned on the walls as well as a small table for conversations and planning.
Robin closed the door behind him and squeezed past the rearranged furniture. The only pieces that hadn’t been moved were Chrom’s desk and bed. The table and bookshelves had been practically pushed next to each other. Robin figured it gave the healers more space to work in, but it made entering much harder.
Nevertheless, he persevered past the wooden obstacles and pulled a chair up to Chrom’s desk. He sat down and placed his books on the desk, then turned to Chrom. Robin reached over and carefully checked his friend’s pulse, finding it fainter than healthy. On Chrom’s side, that hexed wound seemed to glow even more with each faint beat.
Robin scowled at it. What kind of hex could it possibly be, and why couldn’t it be lifted? He reached over, bare fingertips just barely brushing the wound.
To his shock, the mark on his hand began to glow. Robin jerked his hand back too late. The wound reacted aggressively. Chrom’s eyes shot open. His body convulsed. His jaws spread in a silent scream.
In the blink of an eye, he vanished, leaving behind the loose white garments he’d been wrapped in. Robin froze, fear seizing in his chest.
“C-Chrom…?”
His eyes widened with horror. Had…had he accidentally sped up the drain process? He knew he had fell blood in him, but he didn’t know it would react to anything.
Without thinking, he found himself shifting through the clothes, picking through each bit, looking for any sign of his friend. He couldn’t just disappear. Chrom wasn’t gone. Chrom…
His hand hit something solid and trembled. Slowly, Robin pulled the cloth covering it away, unsure of what he’d find.
He jolted back at the tiny shriek that pierced the terrifying silence. Robin almost fell out of the chair he sat in. His mouth opened in a shocked gape, for there, before him, sitting right on the light cloth he’d just been searching through, was Chrom.
Except he was tiny. Robin estimated that he was about three inches tall now, the size of a small mouse! His heart pounded in his chest, the shock preventing him from speaking.
Chrom was staring up at him, wide blue eyes dancing with fear, awe, and confusion. His little chest was rising and falling swiftly. When he reached down and grasped a bit of fabric to cover his naked form, his body was trembling.
Chrom was just as surprised as Robin.
Robin finally found his breath. He blinked, and the involuntary movement caused him to flinch. The shock from finding Chrom both alive and tiny…it was just so much. Still, he forced himself not to shake as he scooched closer and leaned over, looming over Chrom. Shining gray eyes locked with terrified blue.
“Chrom?” It felt foreign. It felt wrong. Robin winced as Chrom yelped and covered his ears, almost tumbling over. The little man’s eyes squeezed shut and he lowered his head.
Robin’s voice was too loud.
“S-sorry,” he whispered, relieved when Chrom looked back up at him. He felt tempted to poke at Chrom, or offer him a finger, but Robin fought the feeling.
Chrom didn’t say anything. He just stared in awed stupor.
“Are you okay…?” Robin finally said, hoping to get Chrom to speak. His best friend’s silence worried him.
Chrom opened his mouth, but all Robin heard was little squeaky noises. He blinked in confusion and inclined his head ever so slightly. “Chrom, I can’t understand you. Could you speak a little louder?”
Chrom stood. Robin had seen him naked many times before–it was no big deal to either of them. But perhaps he felt vulnerable at this tiny size, because the moment he stood his eyes drifted back to the fabric that had clothed his fully sized body. He glanced down at it, then back up at Robin. This time, he cupped his hands to his mouth and made a higher pitched squeal.
Robin felt like his ear was about to bleed. His eyes squeezed shut instinctively, a pained grimace twisting his face, and the squeal stopped. Those gray eyes again focused on Chrom’s tiny form.
“I don’t think I can hear your voice, Chrom. Or…I can’t understand it.” Robin figured keeping things short right now would be best. “How about just…nod or shake your head?”
Chrom nodded.
Robin raised an eyebrow. “Was that for my first question about your well-being, or the answer to the yes or no question?”
Chrom crossed his arms and frowned. Then his eyes glimmered, and he raised two fingers.
“Ah…the…second one?” Robin guessed.
Chrom nodded and lowered his hand.
Robin smiled. “Alright. So, regarding the first one, are you okay?”
A nod. Good, he hadn’t hurt his friend. Robin breathed a sigh of relief. Chrom raised his arms defensively as the gust almost knocked him down. Robin sheepishly backed away.
“Do you…have any idea at all how this happened?” It was a stupid question. Robin regretted asking it the moment Chrom shook his head. “Right. Neither do I. All I know is I touched you and you shrunk.”
He raised his hand to his face and stared at the mark. It had always been there, for as long as he knew. “Do you think it has something to do with my blood? Like the mind control?”
Chrom shrugged and began to squeak again. Robin chuckled; Chrom was probably trying to tell him that regardless of blood, he was one of them, that it wasn’t his fault that his blood did this to him, that things would work out. He leaned down again, closer than before. “Thank you, Chrom, but I can’t understand you like this. I guess that wasn’t a yes or no question, though. My apologies.”
Chrom waved dismissively. Robin retreated. “May I sit on your bed?” He asked. He’d be closer to Chrom, and it was more comfortable than this chair…
Chrom nodded. Robin nodded in response, a quiet thank you, and stood to return the chair to its original spot at the guest table. He then returned to the bed and sat at the header, carefully moving the pillow aside. Chrom was in the middle of the bed, so his current position removed the risk of crushing him accidentally.
Now that the shock was wearing off, however, Robin felt oddly excited. His friend was so small and vulnerable. He could do whatever he wanted to him.
Robin bit his tongue and quashed those feelings, scolding himself for even thinking like that.
Chrom remained standing and faced him. Even now, he seemed to be sizing Robin up. The tactician smiled back down at him.
“Is your wound still bothering you?” Now that Robin looked, he didn’t really see the glowing gouge in Chrom’s side. It was both relieving and concerning.
Chrom shook his head. Robin raised his eyebrows. Was the hex through? Had shrinking Chrom been the purpose all along? Maybe it had just messed up or worn off. But then again, it reacted to him, to his blood, and shrunk Chrom. Why would it–
A cruel idea found its way into Robin’s head. His eyes suddenly widened with terror. It had to be a trick or a trap. There were many, including his father, who wished Chrom dead, and since he still couldn’t overpower that mind control, this all must’ve been planned!
He was a danger to Chrom. He did this. Robin felt a void tear open in his chest. He moved to leave.
But if he left, poor Chrom would be all alone. Robin bit his lip, gaze drifting from his tiny friend to the door. He couldn’t just leave him like this.
Another sigh escaped his lips. “Chrom, would you be okay with me carrying you?” He asked slowly, fully meeting Chrom’s tiny gaze.
Chrom blinked, looked himself over, and nodded. To Robin’s surprise, he abandoned his cloth shelter and darted forward. Instinctively, the tactician backed away.
Chrom paused, blue gaze still focused on Robin. So much fear was stirring in the poor tactician. What if he crushed his friend? What if he dropped him? What if he lost Chrom? It wouldn’t be hard to misplace something so small, but this small thing was so important! He could feel his heart rate increasing; Robin needed to calm down. He closed his eyes and forced himself to just breathe.
Chrom sat and waited for Robin to finish his session.
Finally, Robin’s gray eyes reopened. He immediately focused on Chrom’s tiny form, sitting so patiently in front of his legs. He just needed to reach down and pick his friend up. It shouldn’t feel so stressful.
When he offered his hand, which was still gloveless, Chrom flinched away. He examined the fingers and palm as if they were an enemy, and Robin felt a twinge of guilt at this. Poor Chrom had to constantly be on guard now, even around an ally. It took Chrom a few moments to even clamber onto Robin’s palm. He stood and fully faced Robin.
The moment Robin lifted his hand, Chrom yelped and fell over, immediately grabbing onto the tactician’s thumb to stabilize himself. Robin couldn’t suppress a low chuckle; Chrom looked so cute, latched onto his thumb like that! He received a distressed glance in response, which entirely ruined his mood.
“Sorry,” Robin whispered, bringing Chrom to his face. What could he do with him? Should he attempt to hide him? Cage him? What would be most beneficial to the situation?
Well, he needed to find a way to unshrink Chrom, first of all. But perhaps he should attend to his current needs first. Chrom had no clothes, he might be hungry, he was probably exhausted…
And then a familiar voice rang in his head.
Heed my call…
No.
A bolt of terror shot through him. Robin’s eye widened with fear. Familiar pain was already shooting through his head. If not for the tiny creature he held in his palm, he would’ve grabbed at his head. He had to fight he had to fight, Chrom’s life was at stake–!
Chrom recognized the symptoms immediately and began to squeak, standing to fully face Robin. When his squeaks provoked no reactions, he took to clawing at the hand which held him and squeaking some more. Beneath him, Robin began to tremble.
Kill him.
No. I will never listen to you.
Fool. You have no choice. Kill him, crush his tiny bones between your fingers!
NO! Chrom was his best friend! He’d never kill him!
The headache worsened. The ringing which had blocked most sound now rose to a painfully high pitch.
Kill. Him.
Robin could feel his body beginning to obey. His trembling arm lowered from his head. Nonono he needed to fight, needed to try harder. He forced it back up.
Never.
O, vessel to Lord Grima, feast upon your first sacrifice: the exalt of Ylisse himself, ripened for the altar like a calf.
Robin felt his stomach growl. A chill ran down his spine. No. He would never. Chrom was right before him, an easy target. He needed to hide him in some way…
Feast. Eat. Kill.
Mustering all his strength, Robin did the only thing he could think of: he dropped Chrom onto the desk next to him, praying to Naga that the exalt wasn’t injured in the process. Then, he grabbed his head and dove into the bed head-first, trying to block out the voice.
Feast.
His stomach growled again. Faintly, he remembered an odd taste–salty, meaty, a hint of sweetness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he swore he heard someone scream.
To Robin’s horror, his body betrayed him. When his stomach growled, his body seemed to relinquish control to it. It frightened him, how easily his own flesh betrayed him. It tore away and his body lurched forward, almost throwing him into the mess of cloth on the bed. Robin felt tiny tears pricking the edges of his eyes as he raised up, scanning the area like a watchdog.
Where was his prey? Not here. Not on the bed. It was somewhere on that desk. Robin slid off the bed and walked over, eyes darting over the desk for any sign of life.
It didn’t take him long to find any. Chrom had pathetically hidden behind the inkwell, and there was no way for him to outrun Robin’s hand. The fingers plucked his small body up with ease, wrapping around his torso. Chrom squealed and struggled, trying to hit Robin’s fingers and knock them off.
Robin could only watch, agonized. Every squeak Chrom made wrenched his heart. He fought this new control, but it shrugged him off easily. He wasn’t even sure who was controlling him right now–Validar? It had never been this bad…
He brought Chrom to his face and smirked. The little man’s eyes reflected only terror now, and he stared at Robin like he was a monster.
Robin wanted to cry. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to hug Chrom to his chest and whisper apologies, stroke his little head and protect him, not…
He felt his lips part. Air whooshed in through his open mouth as the tactician took in a breath. The squeaks stopped. Another bolt of terror shot through Robin.
High pitched shrieks shattered the spell like a rock breaking glass. Robin flinched, almost dropping his cargo. He watched as Chrom struggled even more, his eyes now focused on the open mouth beneath him. A pink tongue emerged, and licked at his little foot.
The sensation of the taste almost put Robin in a daze. His…his friend tasted delicious, far better than anything the Shepherds had given him! As his fear melted, his mouth watered, and he found himself lusting for another taste, the tongue already wrapping around Chrom’s leg.
Chrom attempted to kick him loose, and when that failed he jerked his leg back. The tongue followed, however, and Chrom’s face lit up with a sudden blush when Robin licked between his legs.
Robin purred. Chrom was exquisite; there was no other way to put it. He licked up and down, coating the little legs with saliva and paying special attention to their origin. An additional flavor joined in when he ran his tongue down Chrom the third time, and Robin found himself craving it even more. Without hesitation, he lowered Chrom’s lower body into his mouth, leaving his upper torso and head hanging out.
Chrom’s voice was still squeaky, but Robin heard a distinctive moan when he sucked on Chrom’s lower body. Was Chrom enjoying this as much as he did? Feeling suddenly sly, Robin poked the tip of his tongue right onto Chrom’s pelvis. He was met with something hard, and the moment he pressed it, Chrom whimpered.
Robin smirked. His friend was here at his mercy, and he could do whatever he wanted to him. He secured Chrom with his lips and gulped down that delicious taste, which only left him craving more. Robin sucked more of Chrom’s body in, up to his chest, and lapped at his sides, covering every bit of him in saliva. It was fresher, yes, but he knew he could do better. Feeling a bit mischievous, Robin pressed his tongue down Between Chrom’s hips and roughly rubbed back and forth.
Chrom let out a squeal and jerked up. Robin felt something other than saliva on his tongue. His tongue retreated and he swallowed again, this time pulling more of Chrom into his mouth. Only his hands stuck from between Robin’s lips now. Feet pressed the back of his throat. Robin gagged, almost spitting Chrom out. He let out a little growl and flipped Chrom over in his mouth, rolling him around a bit to get him into a more stable position.
Chrom gave little fight–was he tired? Concern for his friend washed away that pleasure. Robin opened his mouth and reached in, carefully pulling the soaked Chrom out by his foot. His tiny friend was panting, chest heaving with each breath. His eyes were closed and his body immediately began to shiver.
The guilt from before slammed into Robin. He’d done that, and he’d enjoyed it. He hadn’t fought, and now poor Chrom was su–
Why did you halt your feast?
The headache began…again. A painful ringing started up. Robin grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. No, no, NO! He couldn’t succumb again, he couldn’t eat Chr–
His stomach growled. Even Chrom heard it this time, and raised his tiny head to look Robin in the eye. He saw fear.
Another growl. A feeling of being covered with a soft blanket. Robin had not a single moment to fight it–as soon as it came, it had won. He once again watched as Chrom was raised over his open mouth–except this time, he was dropped in head first, bypassing the tongue and the teeth and heading straight for the throat. Unusually, Robin’s gag reflex didn’t activate. His body didn’t lurch forward, he didn’t spit anything up, and he didn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact…he actually liked this new feeling, this power he had over Chrom.
Chrom didn’t even struggle as he went down. Robin felt his slicked shoulders remain caught in his throat for a moment before sliding down into his esophagus. The muscles immediately went to work, tugging and pulling the rest of Chrom’s body down. He gulped, swallowing the built up saliva and coating Chrom in even more of the sticky stuff, prompting a wriggle from Chrom–enough to send a wave of pleasure through Robin. He moaned as he felt Chrom slip away inside of him, the thin legs finally sliding into his throat. Chrom formed a small bulge on his throat, and Robin found himself affectionately rubbing at it until it disappeared into his chest.
He took in a deep breath and fell back onto Chrom’s bed, revelling in the feeling of Chrom falling deeper into him. Every individual movement he made sent another spark of pleasure through Robin.
A few seconds later, a tiny weight plopped down into Robin’s stomach. He felt it move, try to gain footing, and fall. It hit the ground, grabbed at the flesh, attempted to stagger around. A tiny chest heaved, and a body sprawled out inside of him.
Robin closed his eyes and leaned back, hand unknowingly floating to rub at his stomach. He heard a tiny squeak as Chrom tumbled onto the opposite wall–when Robin laid down, Chrom was forced to change with the chamber around him. Gravity performed its work well, throwing him onto another wall. A tiny fist collided with it, and then Chrom erupted into a struggle.
Robin purred the moment it started. Each of Chrom’s blows sent a small ripple of pleasure through him. He pressed down, meeting Chrom’s body and affectionately rubbed his stomach. The blows only increased from this action. Robin closed his eyes and let himself be consumed by it.
He felt a sudden pressure in his throat. Robin opened his mouth and let out a burp, a light blush dusting his face. Suddenly, the blows slowed. He felt Chrom’s stance waver, and then his prey was on the ground, gasping for air. Robin sucked in a breath and felt Chrom move again, but he was far, far less active than before. Instead, he crawled to the other side of Robin’s stomach and curled up into a shivering ball.
Robin shrugged. He was starting to feel drowsy. It was just after dinner time, when most were readying to sleep. Usually, Robin would stay up late reading and researching, but tonight he felt a little different. Like just maybe, he wasn’t in control of himself. Someone else was in his head, and he was listening to their every order.
They told him to sleep. Robin yawned and stood, carefully making his way past Chrom’s furniture, out of his room, and back to his own.
Ugh, his head hurt. Perhaps he’d feel better in the morning. Robin opened the door and walked in, letting it close behind him. Chrom shivered even more inside of him, prompting a gentle pat from Robin.
He crossed the room to his own bed and stripped into his night clothes, abandoning his cloak and armor. Without his baggy protection, Robin found he could see Chrom’s struggles through his flesh. Amazing! He poked at Chrom, just to provoke a few more attacks, until another yawn caused his unusual drowsiness to intensify. His eyelids drooped.
“Well…see you tomorrow, Chrom…” he muttered as he laid in his own bed, still gently rubbing at his stomach.
Chrom squeaked again and attacked the wall, desperately begging to be let out in a voice too high for anyone but himself to hear. All of his efforts ended in vain as the heartbeat above him slowed and the whoosh of breath quieted. All around him, his friend’s body slowed. Robin had fallen asleep with him still in here.
Chrom almost felt like crying. He lost his footing again and fell in a tingling puddle of…something. He couldn’t recover, so instead he dragged himself away, as far away from the puddle, and prayed to the gods that he’d survive the night.
I love it!!
SV-chan's Backup Blog 