The council of Ylisse meets every Tuesday at ten a.m., and runs until twelve. All the councilors are there, as well as the General of the Army, or in this case the king. The army's tactician is supposed to be present as well, as well as the head of the war council. The mayor of Ylisstol usually puts in an appearance as well, bringing to attention the problems on the street.
Since the war, it meets every day, starting as soon as everyone arrives and ending when everyone is too tired to think any more. It's become more of a therapy session, with the actual councilors making more decisions elsewhere. The Shepherds are always present, sitting in small groups to comfort each other. You'd think that two years after the end of the war and the death of Grima everything would've returned to normal, but that wasn't exactly the case.
To give them some credit, they still managed to make decisions, functioning almost as well as the previous councils. Lissa acted as a go between, passing on their thoughts to the mayor, who usually saw it through to completion. Despite being slightly dysfunctional and oftentimes emotional, they pulled through, trying their very best to sort out the country after the mess that Valm and Plegia had caused over the previous years.
"Blue, what are we doing about the slums that I told you about?" Gaius asks, tapping his nails impatiently.
"I don't know. I… I'll put someone on it. Get them to go to the mayor directly. It'd be easier. Any volunteers?"
"Chrom, don't you think it would make more sense if Gaius continued his work on it? He knows most about the situation, so…" Lissa suggests and the king nods tiredly.
"Good idea. I'll entrust that job to you, then," he says, with a further nod in the other man's direction.
"Your Majesty…"
"Olivia," Chrom warns.
"Sorry," she says, flushing red and turning her head away to the side. "Chrom, I received a letter for you the other day." She passes it down the table towards him, and he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the familiar handwriting. "Inigo sent it," she smiles, and Lon'qu looks fondly at her. They always sit together, and they always hold hands, as if they would lose each other if they didn't.
"Thank you." Chrom manages a smile, the first genuine one of the day, and this causes Lissa to smile. She's had many more reasons to be happy over the past few years, with her marriage and birth of her first child. Both her husband and baby aren't present, but they'll probably arrive later, she reckons.
"Anything else?" Chrom asks. For a moment, he thinks they're done for the day, but then the topic he's avoiding is brought up.
"It's two years today, right?" Tharja drawls, draping herself across the table to get a better view of the king. Twelve pairs of eyes fall upon her, some filled with tears, and the others glaring at saying something so insensitive.
"Right." It's a touchy subject for any of them, but especially for Chrom. Not only did his army fall to pieces and his kingdom was thrown into disarray, but he lost his wife and the tactician of the army.
"I felt that… we should do something to commemorate it. I know that the citizens are expecting something," she reminds, and suddenly it was okay to point it out.
"Like what?" Chrom asks, scribbling it down on his page.
"I think a vigil or the like at the statue would be sufficient," Libra suggests to murmurs of approval from the others. "We could lay flowers, light candles and say prayers. It would be small and quiet, but still enough to satisfy."
"Early evening okay for everyone?" Lissa asks in Chrom's place, sensing his change in body language. There are mumbles of 'yes', and Lissa nods. Maribelle is the first to move, grandly getting out of her chair.
"Well! I'll get us some candles, then? Nice ones, of course, none of that cheap stuff. Come on, dear! I'm sure Brady is beside himself," she says, grabbing her parasol off the table and beckoning to Gaius.
"I'm coming, Twinkles, don't you worry." He swipes one of the candlesticks from the middle of the table, holds it up to the light and smirks, throwing it back in his satchel. No one questions it, and he saunters it out, following his wife who is holding the door open for him impatiently. "See you crazy lot later."
Slowly, the rest of the shepherds leave, to prepare for the evening event in one way or another. Most of them have children of their own, including Chrom. As if on cue, a nanny appears, a three-year-old Lucina toddling along behind her. Chrom's spirits are lifted, and Lissa looks on as they child throws herself at her father.
"Daddy!"
"Good morning, Lucina," he smiles, picking her up onto his knee. She may still be young, but she looks almost identical to her older counterpart, living out the rest of the life on a small farm in Rosanne, as far away from the Ylissian capital as she and Inigo could manage. She had let her father know of her plans to move, and he supported her wholeheartedly, as long as she kept in touch. Although her letters rarely came, they were much appreciated in the exalted household, as she often wrote to her most beloved 'Aunt Lissa' as well.
"Are you doing anything today?" Lucina asks expectantly, and Chrom sets her down, getting up himself.
"We have an event to attend this evening, but you're most definitely invited to that," he says, holding her hand and gently leading her out of the room. "Owain will be there, and I expect your other friends will be too!"
"All the others are boys," the princess complains, and she pouts, looking for a moment just like her mother.
"What about Noire?" Chrom reminds gently. "And you never know, Kjelle might be here."
"Noire is weird, Daddy. She doesn't talk much, and she yells a lot when she does. But I suppose if Kjelle is there, it'll be okay." She cheers up quickly, and leads her father through to the courtyard, where Ricken and Owain are sat. The cross over to them, and Lucina and Owain immediately run off, playing some convoluted game of chase.
Lissa sits beside Ricken on the grass, and Chrom sits down too, tangling his fingers in the blades. A comfortable silence falls between them as they watch their children run about. It has been a long time since the war first began, when Lissa was just sixteen and Chrom just nineteen. They had come a long way, and grown in more ways than one. But they were still alive, and lucky to be.
"You haven't gone looking for her recently," Lissa reminds gently. "Have you…"
"I haven't given up on her," he answers, and Ricken looks away uncomfortably.
"I miss her a lot too, Chrom, but… well, I think it's time maybe you… maybe you stopped. It's been two years and she hadn't been spotted. There are still posters up everywhere looking for her, but… if she's found, someone will report her."
"Give me one more chance," Chrom says, staring directly at Lucina. "For her. Give me one more chance. I don't want to bring Lucina up without a mother."
"Do you have any idea where she might be?"
He doesn't answer for a minute, instead, lying back on the grass and ignoring her comment. She rolls her eyes and turns to Ricken, and she tells him about the event in the evening. Chrom doesn't listen, blocking out the sound of her voice drilling incessantly into his brain. Deep down he knows she's right, and that if Robin were coming back, she most likely would've by now. But he doesn't want to admit it. His wife isn't dead. She just isn't.
"I do," he answers after five minutes, and Lissa looks back to him with a soft look on her face.
"One more go then. We can leave tomorrow. Is that…"
"Fine with me," Ricken laughs. "I can look after both of the kids. I know…" he turns to Chrom, glancing at the elder man with apprehension clear on his face. "I know how important Robin was to you. I believe in you, Chrom."
Dinner is at six, but a horrible feeling has settled in Chrom's stomach, so he excuses himself, leaving Lucina distraught at the thought of her father being absent from the meal. Lissa kindly reminds her that she would be there, as would Ricken and Owain, to which she replies that Owain was 'only one and a half' and therefore he didn't count. Lissa has to stifle a laugh at this, ushering the child through to the dining room while Chrom takes off in another direction.
It isn't that he is ill. The thought of having to get up in front of everyone and speak about her is unbearable. Of course there are others he could speak of as well, but if he doesn't mention her, everyone would know that he was avoiding the topic. He decides to leave the majority of the service in Libra's capable hands, knowing that the priest was much more capable of delivering some semblance of a well-written tribute.
He lifts Lucina's letter off his bedside cabinet, sitting on the edge of his bed. He always is on the same side of the bed- he can't bring himself to sleep in a different way from when Robin was there. He tears the top of the envelope, unfolding the parchment which Lucina's handwriting covers. His eyes tear up at the thought of his daughter, living on a different continent just to avoid messing up his life any more. She wouldn't be able to predict anything more, since Robin had taken her fate into her own hands, and therefore there was no need for her to stick around. Chrom understood, although he had become quite attached to the older version of his daughter.
Father, it read.
I'm sorry for not writing more often. It feels strange to speak with someone only a few years older than me and call them my father.
Things are good out here in Rosanne. We are working hard at the farm, and we've finally settled down after travelling for a while. We've been growing some vegetables, and we sell them at the market in town. Inigo's very good at selling, but that's probably because he mock flirts with all the ladies. I've been sewing some dresses to sell at the stall as well, but no one seems to be interested in them.
I wanted to write this time because I know it's the two year anniversary of mother's death and subsequently, the end of the war. I hope that you over in Ylisse are doing well at this time, and I understand that's hard for you. In my timeline, you died before mother, so it's strange for me to write to you and not to her. I miss her.
There's a teary mark and a smudged word here, that Chrom figures is from Lucina. He runs his finger over it, knowing the world of troubles that girl has seen at such a young age. She deserved none of it, but at least his Lucina here could live without the worries of the day.
I have Falchion hung up on the wall above the fireplace, she continues. A neighbour commented that it looked like the ruler of Ylisse's sword, and I had to stop myself from laughing (I told her it was a replica). Inigo's been practicing his dancing a lot recently, and the other day he broke a few vases.
I hope that one day you can come and visit, father. Our address is at the top of the page, if you ever feel inclined. I know it was I that put this distance between us, but I still think it's for the best. Just don't bring baby Lucina with you, though I'm sure she's very cute. I can make a nice stew now, I've discovered, so we can give you some if you visit.
I wish you well, father.
Lucina.
She only signs it with her name, and Chrom folds it up, setting it beside his bed once again. Lucina's writings are always brief, but this is the first mention of going to visit in Rosanne. Chrom thinks that he might- and maybe bring Lon'qu and Olivia to see their son as well, if they can bear to leave the younger Inigo behind (the gods know they're awfully attached to the baby).
He glances at the clock, and upon seeing that an hour has passed, he makes his way back down to the great hall, where the shepherds agreed they would meet before going to the memorial.
A huge stone statue is what makes up the war memorial. It's in the graveyard, and the recovered bodies are buried under it, with individual markings written by the families. It's beside the other memorials, erected for other wars and other soldiers from another time, before any of them were born. Maribelle has set candles around it, and makes a scene out of lighting them all individually. A small crowd has gathered by this stage, keeping a respectable distance, and Lucina is pulling on Chrom's sleeve impatiently.
"Daddy," she whispers as he brings his head closer to hers. "Why are all the people here?"
"To remember your mummy and all the other people that died in the war," he replies, squeezing her hand gently.
"Okay," she says, contented with his answer.
Slowly, members of the shepherds place flowers at the base of the memorial and on individual graves. Lissa places lilies on Frederick's grave, and Sumia hides her tears as she puts daisies that Lucina picked on Cordelia's headstone. The other graves aren't forgotten either, and soon the whole memorial is brightly coloured. Libra nods at Chrom, who passes Lucina over to Miriel to mind for a few minutes while he speaks.
"It's been two years since the world changed utterly. In some ways, it was good, as we killed the Fell Dragon Grima, and prevented him from ever coming back. In other ways," he sighs, taking a deep breath. Many pairs of eyes watch him, sharing in his pain. "In other ways, it was bad, as we lost eight members of the shepherds, and I'm sure that countless other civilians died in the struggle." There's a moment of silence, and many people bowed their heads in respect for the unnamed people who went missing and whose bodies were never found.
"I'd like to acknowledge the eight members briefly, if that's okay with everyone. Donnel, a boy from a farm in Southern Ylisse who begged us to take him with us on our journey, and who proved his worth against many enemies, only to fall at the hand of Walhart the Conqueror. Gregor, a mercenary, who joined us without a word and somehow integrated into our party with no one even noticing him. He was a wall of strength, and was strong both on and off the battlefield." Nowi bursts into tears at this- despite a shaky start, the two managed to become fast friends.
"Sully and Stahl, two cavaliers and two friends who were some of the first members of the shepherds and… I don't even know where to begin. Not only were they best friends and strong opponents, but also they cared for each other deeply, even though romantically they weren't involved at all. Both are missed across the country, and honestly, no one has replaced Sully on the battlefield.
"Henry, who was a dark mage from Plegia and technically the enemy, but in a strange way he joined us. He was obsessed with death and killing and hopefully he'll be happy wherever he is."
"He was a weird kid," Gaius says audibly, and everyone laughs at his comment.
"That he was," Chrom says, managing a smile. It's only going to get harder from here, her knows, as the last three people on the list were the ones he was closest to. "Cordelia," he mumbles, glancing at Sumia who nods in encouragement. "Cordelia, the head of the Pegasus Knight division, and someone who had immense untapped potential. She could've done so well, but… she was cut down by a Grimleal archer on the battlefield. She was so strong, and a huge loss to us and to her family." He spares another look to Sumia, who, although her eyes are filled with tears, is nodding and smiling.
"Frederick, a man older than me and infinitely wiser. He was strong and capable and looked after Lissa and I like no other man could. He will be sorely missed within the Ylisse household. No one else will be there to make us eat food we don't like and pick up our dirty laundry," Chrom laughs, before his eyes fill with tears. He tries not to dwell on it too much, but he misses Frederick and his often-unwanted advice more than he can say with words at the moment. He takes a deep breath, knowing that the last person on his list will make his heart break into a million tiny pieces.
"And Robin. My wife. The tactician of the army. I won't bore you with the details of how much I miss her, and how much I love her, because I…" He can feel Lissa glaring at him, and he shuts his mouth. "Thank you."
There's applause from the shepherds and the crowd that gathered, and then Libra steps up, his back to the shepherds. Chrom lifts Lucina into his arms, his last reminder of his dearly departed.
"Naga, we pray to you, keep the souls of the departed safe. Guide those on earth to a happy and fulfilling life, and may we never forget those who have already left us. Amen."
"Amen."
Chrom's tears finally subside at three a.m., when he thinks that he's finally got a grip on himself. The room is dark, with only a few candles lit and the moonlight casting itself through the window. As he gets up to blow the candles out, a knock comes to the door, scaring him half out of his skin. He crosses the room to open it, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. If it's Lissa, he's ready to punch her, but it's someone he doesn't expect at all.
"Sorry for waking you, Captain."
The only other Pegasus Knight stands at his doorway, dressed in her nightclothes. She's been staying in the palace grounds since the war, in a tiny cottage for one across the other side of the acres.
"I hadn't slept yet. Do you want to come in?" He asks.
"No, no, I'll be quick. I just wanted to thank you for your words about Cordelia earlier. They were so kind."
"That's no problem," Chrom says, unsure if it's just his tiredness that's confusing him or if there's something else.
"I have one more thing… I feel awful for hiding this from you, but…" She holds an envelope out in front of her, with Chrom's name written on it in a hasty scribble. His heart stops and his breath hitches as he takes it from Sumia's hand, his hand shaking.
"How long have you had this?" He asks, a mixture of elated and angry, but his voice just comes out sad.
"Since before the final battle against Grima. Robin told me to give it to you two years after the battle ended. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but… well, I didn't want to go against her will."
"Thank you, Sumia."
"I know… I know where you're going tomorrow. And I wish you the best of luck. I know no one else believes you that Robin is still alive, but trust me captain, I do! And I want you to know that I'm on your side one hundred percent."
"Sumia…"
"I know it's been hard," she says, smiling although her eyes are quickly filling with tears. "But we'll get through this together, I know it." She pats his shoulder, standing on her toes so she can reach. "Good luck."
"Thank you," he says, and he hugs her, more to hide his tears than anything else.
"Good night, captain," she says, withdrawing from the hug and making her way down the corridor. Chrom watches her go, his hand holding the letter still shaking uncontrollably. He retreats into his room and is asleep almost immediately, letter crushed in his hand.
.