Frederick tore through another risen, sweat lined along his face and brow and his breathing was heavy even through his armor that he was so used to carrying around. Even in the end of days, even with everyone dying so quickly and the numbers of the Shepherds getting smaller the rising fear, Frederick held his own and refused to cheap down on the protection given to him by the honor he was given.
Even still, his ax was heavier by the day the more tired he became, and he backed himself up to the opening of the hall Chrom and Robin ducked into to face against Validar. He had to check on his liege, the last promise he was able to make to Emmeryn all those years ago was to see he and Lissa would survive always. And though he was fighting to keep the dead from interfering with his friends, something didn’t sit right with him. Something was terribly wrong.
He could feel it now, a fear that he’d missed something miscalculated some sort of horrible outcome when they were planning. A noise drug him out of his thoughts and he quickly dispelled of the last Risen with a slice of his ax. “Thanks to you we carried the day.” He heard Chrom speak those words, it sounded like it had all been over, thank Naga no one else had to die. Frederick smiled wearily and turned to greet his the Exalt and their wonderful tactician ready to celebrate with them.
It was like it all slowed down to a crawl. Seconds were hours, his brown eyes adjusted and went wide as he saw Robin cast some sort of terrible red magic lifting it up to an unsuspecting Chrom. “M’lord!” Frederick cried out of fear, but he stopped, hand outstretched and the other dropping his weapon with a loud and horrible crashing sound. However, it wasn’t as loud or as deafening as Chrom’s final breath and him hitting the floor himself, dead. Frederick fell to his knees, unable to look at what had been happening to the other man, unaware of the danger he was in. Hot tears gathered at his eyes and stung the cuts on his face, muddying the dust. His arms fell to his side and he felt he couldn’t breath.
What did Lady Emmeryn think of him.. everything he promised her, out of all of those things he couldn’t even protect her brother. This was the second time, he’s failed to protect the Exalt from being killed and his heart had broken into a million jagged pieces, piercing his skin like a million daggers.
He went to get up, stand and gather Chrom’s body, but the force of Robin’s unstable energy mixed with the power of Grima threw him off a spell enough to shake him out of it and get him to look at the man he once called a brother in arms. He could feel anger rise up and replace the immense guilt and sorrow, but stopped himself from going forward, or rather... a voice did. “Run, and live. Protect the kids.” For a moment he could swear he heard Chrom beside him, and Frederick turned quickly. “But Robin-” There was nothing to his right or his left when he turned to look except for the grumbling structure. Grima’s terrible roar rang through the opening space as the ground cracked, and Frederick looked from the now former tactician, to Chrom’s body.
“.. I’m sorry Lord Chrom, please.. forgive me.” He had to live to protect the kids.. he had to warn the rest of the Shepherds of Grima’s power- and tell them Chrom was gone. With a heavier heart, the knight grabbed his ax and took off into the winding hallways as fast as he could, took Lady by her reigns and Chrom’s horse, leaving Robin’s, and galloping off into the night, leaving absolute destruction behind him.
The cool night air was favorable from the heat inside the building they were in, and now that he was alone, without present danger. Frederick allowed himself to mourn the death of not only the Exalt, but his friend. The intense sadness overwhelmed him, and he let his horse take over as she ran back to the camp, while he allowed himself to sob into the open. If he couldn’t do his job... what sort of knight was he. Why did it have to be Chrom.. it should have been him.
