Disclaimer: Nintendo and Intelligence Systems owns everything, and fire emblem hell owns my soul.
I've had this idea floating around in my head and my documents file for a while, and since it's Lucina's birthday I decided to finally get around to finishing it. What better way to celebrate besides heart shattering angst? Lots of ways. But this is all I got right now, so happy birthday darling.
"Lucina! There are bandits approaching from the woods." Morgan ran out of the forest panting. They went to bed so early-I had only been on guard duty for an hour before I saw them-where was her tent again? His mind was racing as he finally found the tent he shared with his sister, almost tripping over his bed roll to reach her. Why is she so fast asleep? "Lucina!"
She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. "Morgan? Where have you been? Go to sleep" She said in her characteristically older sister-type way. Then, opening her eyes apulling her hands away and seeing his panic, said in her characteristically exalt type-type way, "What is it? Wake the others. I'll get dressed and meet you outside" Morgan would have smiled if he wasn't so terrified. Ensuring the safety of his sister and their friends and creating strategies and leading them out of harms way was his job, but seeing Lucina in action always seemed to comfort him in a way nothing else could. It reminded him of watching his father practice, and feeling like as long as he stayed close to them, no power on earth could rip him from this world.
She was already dressed with the falchion strapped to her side when the rest of them stumbled into the campgrounds. They had set up camp in a clearing facing a forest on one end and a lake to the next. It wasn't the safest place, but they had seen little action all week, and the lake provided a place to bathe, which they all sorely needed.
"We need to move. The bandits are a mile away, but they don't seem to realize we're here. We'll have enough time to pack up if we hurry."
"Hold. They seem close. Minerva is getting ansty," Gerome muttered, stroking the wyvern pawing at the ground nervously.
"unfortunately, I surmise your calculations are not erroneous in nature. I have been studying this creature extensively, and it appears to have a spectacular perception of danger." Laurent said as he pushed his glasses onto his nose.
Before Lucina could even muster a response, a large warrior with an ax burst through the trees. her heart skipped a beat. They had encountered bandits many times since they departed the castle to try and keep the risen plaguing Ylisse at bay, but had always managed to avoid confrontation by a hair. She wanted to avoid meaningless deaths, but more than that, she wasn't sure if they were up for it. The risen were only real threats due to their numbers. Being mindless monsters, it was easy to outsmart them. She wasn't sure how her friends would fair against real opponents, and wanted to avoid finding that out for as long as she could.
A screamed ripped through the clearing. Lucina turned to find Noire, her face switching from the murderous one of her alter ego to the timid one Lucina preferred, though certainly not when it was cowering under a large warrior with his weapon trained at it. The tiny girl was clutching to her bow for dear life, unable to aim at such a close distance. Without thinking, Lucina ran up behind him, Falchion in hand, and swung at the man with all her might.
Thwak
The falchion slid through another risen, the odd sensation of just enough resistance to be difficult, but too slight to be anything but decaying magic. Lucina grimaced as she wiped the mist off the blade. Something she'd learned form these long six months of fighting the monsters; whatever dark magic possessed them escaped in billows once they were killed, leaving a sheen on whatever it touched. Though kill wasn't exactly the right word. Laurent hadn't learned much form his long nights studying the forces that gripped the once beautiful halidom of Ylisse, but he it was clear that they were no longer alive, holding no consciousness left. That made it easier to slice through them, even when their eerie red eyes met hers. She had asked him once if they were ever alive, if they were the recycled bodies of her fallen countrymen. He hesitated, then shook his head, saying he wasn't sure. The hesitation was enough to doubt how truthful he was being with her. She could have pulled her rank, demanding the truth as his reigning exalt, but to be frank, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
For all her strength and courage, Lucina had never taken a life. Ever since Grima's return, her goal had been to salvage any hope humanity had left, so needless deaths had not been on the agenda. Not that she didn't understand that at some point it might become unavoidable. She knew her parents had taken countless lives for the sake of protecting Ylisse, though thinking about it made her stomach churn. She tried hard not to imagine her mothers face as she hurled lightning at a plegian soldier, or the sound the falchion made as it sliced through it's target. She knew the sword she held would kill again. But for all the destruction, all the pain, and all the death grima had brought upon the land, all the things she was fighting for, killing hardly seemed possible.
"Lucina, what a glum look on such a pretty face" She looked up to find inigo, his playful expression shadowed with concern. She flashed a half smile and went to sheath her blade. But she fond it wouldn't move, it was stuck to something. She looked down, and fought for consciousness. A man lay beneath her with the legendary weapon sticking out of his side. She tugged, and heard a scraping sound as it slid out of the body. Instead of purple smoke, a trickle of blood tricked out of the wound. She felt dizzy, not daring to look at the blade. Oh gods what have I done. Naga I – If I hadnt moved – Noire was – he's in Ylissian dress- Oh gods -father I
"Luci?" she started. She hadn't been called that in years. Deep breaths.
"Morgan. Is this the last of them?" she asked with all the authority she could muster.
"... Yes, I believe so. The rest ran off after…" He trailed off when he saw his sisters reaction, or rather, the lack thereof. Currently she was staring blankly at the ground a foot or two beyond the corpse. "I sent Cynthia to sweep the area to make sure there are no more farther on."
"Right. We'll wait till she gets back and then move on."
"are you sure? Everyone is very tired."
"There's a village to the east of here, if we move throughout the night we can rest there and replenish our supplies. It's not safe here."
Morgan looked as if he was about to argue, then simply nodded and walked toward the tents.
Another deep breath. ok. Just look down at the sword. You've done this too many times to count. Sheath the falchion so you can go back to camp and pack up and leave this damned place behind. She looked down. She saw the Falchion glistening red, with brown edges beggining to dry on the blade. She glimpsed the body underneath, the limp man with the bronze ax and tattered clothes in a Ylissian style. She turned and vomited into the bushes. This man was my subject. The people I swore to protect. To keep safe. If I had been a better exalt, kept the halidom together when Grima came to power, protected my people. He was drawn to the life of a hapless vagrant because I was not strong enough to rule him-
"Lucina! It's time to leave!" Cynthia yelled from the air as she swooped into camp.
Right. I'm still the exalt. "On the way!" she shouted, mustering a cheerful tone and a smile no one could see. Forcing herself not to look, She wiped her blade on the grass and walked back to camp with her best leader face on, stern and attentive. Inside she was trembling. She clung to the belt across her chest to keep her fingers from shaking. "Is everything ready? Let's depart now. If we hurry we can make it to the village in time for breakfast."
The riders hopped onto their mounts and pulled the others up with them. Lucina let herself be hoisted onto Minerva's. She leaned her head on Gerome's back and tried to sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw Noire's terrified face, and her blade glistening scarlet. She gave up on sleep and settled for staring at the ground as it whizzed beneath her.
It was hours after dawn when the haggard band of nobles arrived at the tiny village and found an inn to stay at. The innkeeper offered them a feast, having heard of the teenagers that were keeping the land at least mildly safe from risen. Some accepted (Owain took after his mother in most aspects, but couldn't say no to a meal) while most trudged up to their rooms in a mild stupor. Lucina grabbed a chair at the end of the table, silently listening to her friends' idle conversation. Morgan took a chair next to her and began nibbling on a piece of toast with bear meat.
"They ran off after the first casualty. Guess they weren't expecting a fight." He half muttered after a few minutes of silence.
"It's good that they did. I'm not sure we could have taken them full on." Lucina replied, working to keep her voice steady. How was was he speaking of this so casually?
"Oh I doubt that. Don't discount our little band of misfits. We've gotten strong. Even Yarne was ready to fight. Only if necessary, of course." Lucina let herself laugh. The thought of her cowardly friend rearing to go was almost comical. Morgan continued chewing.
"Brother, I-" Lucina took a deep breath. "they were Ylissean. The bandits, I mean. You don't think- I mean- Do you think if father were still alive he could have-"
"No one could have saved Ylisse, Lucina. Not you, not father, not even the hero king. You did everything that could have been done, and more. Father and mother tried as hard as they could, but they could not defeat Grima. And no one could have saved those men either. But you saved Noire. She is sleeping fitfully upstairs because you acted. Father would have done the same, I'm sure."
Oh Morgan. It's like he'd planned this. Come to think of it, he probably had. Slowly, she felt her body steady. She knew that this day would come. She was surprised it had not come sooner, if she were to be honest with herself. Perhaps she could not save her country. But she had to keep fighting. Fighting for a better world, for all the people she had yet to save. She was still shaken, but now perhaps she was a little less confused, possessed a little more conviction. She had to keep pushing on so that hope may never die.
"thank you, Morgan. I could not save Ylisse, but there is still hope. Somewhere, there is still hope. I will not falter again."