The sky was a calm noonday blue. Golden rays basked endless shades of rippling green, glinting off water and metal just so to make it unpleasantly bright for anyone going anywhere outdoors. Of course, people wandered about in spite of the Sun's best efforts, and it resolved to hurry along to Valm where people would write poetry about it instead.
Three of these particular sun malcontents were aggressively enjoying the sunlight in the general direction of a town. Only one of them was on a horse, and not the one complaining about long walking distances. The mounted one would gallop ahead, dismount, and judge the ground with a keen eye one generally reserved for traitors or poorly managed children at the market. He would subsequently confiscate the entire lot of pebbles the road had in its possession, tossing them to the sides.
Predictably, the road offered no explanation for its misdeeds. The man scuffed his armored boot against it, just to remind it who was in charge, then mounted his horse again and returned to his charges. The horse, having done this many times, chose to say little on the matter.
Having repositioned itself to better glint prettily off the water, the Sun watched equally as silently as this trio came across a tree in the middle of an open field. It was disgustingly pretty, really; the kind of field you usually start stories in. In fact, a grand tale of battle, emotion, and dragons was scheduled to begin right there, having judged it was a particularly nice to start.
Unfortunately, that story was out to lunch.
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Lissa was a daughter of a great and noble heritage, following a long line of skilled healers with a spring in her step and a frog up her sleeve. She would hold her chin up proudly as she walked, smiling at life and creating joy where there was none before. The light and laughter to her brother's relentless optimism and her elder sister's practically manic dedication to peace.
At the moment, this proud daughter was being nearly dragged across the pebble-free road by said elder brother, wondering why she hadn't thought of getting more than one horse for this particular venture. Her feet, springs or no, were discussing going on strike due to poor working conditions. None of this changed when she spotted a black cloak sitting irritably by the side of the road.
"There's a cloak by the side of the road, Chrom," She observed, "We should take a look!"
The horse-mounted man looked sternly at the cloak and immediately decided he did not trust it. He opened his mouth to inform his entirely rational charges of this, only to discover they had already left the road to go look at the cloak. He glared at the road before dismounting his horse.
"Chrom, we have to do something," Lissa said, wiping a bead of sweat off her brow. Her other hand utilized one of the most finely crafted instruments of healing in several kilometers to see if the cloak would do something if poked. It did not.
The elder brother, whose blue hair and handsome features marked him as an important character, agreed with sage wisdom. "What do you propose we do?"
The horse-mounted-now-dismounted man threw a pebble at the coat, just to remind it who was in charge. Lissa looked back at him, wondering why he had gotten off his horse if he liked it so much. Regarding the entirely trustworthy cloak, so clearly marked with symbols of a death cult as it was, she called upon the insight of generations of blue-haired men who liked swords and friendship. "I... I dunno..."
Having had quite enough of all this nonsense, and also of the narration's inability to name him, Frederick threw another pebble at the coat. "Milord, I propose we leave this coat where it is. It has Grimleal symbols on it, after all."
Lissa and Chrom simultaneously frowned, trying to remember what precisely Grimleal symbols were. Chrom finally shrugged. "Frederick, it's a very nice coat. Trustworthy."
Frederick closed his eyes, counted to ten, and sighed. "Very well, Milord. What do you propose you do with it?" Glancing over to the coat, he discovered that it had absconded- and that Lissa was being far too quiet. Quiet with Lissa generally meant she was going to get an idea. He shuddered at the prospect.
Chrom turned around, recognizing Frederick's expression, and discovered his sister now looked significantly more trustworthy. "I think it's a little big on you, Lissa," He pointed out, "I can barely even see your face with that hood up."
"I can barely see with it!" She said, taking the hood down, "It's very silly. I like this coat though. I can fit so many frogs in here!"
Chrom and Frederick simultaneously shuddered. One frog was bad enough. When she went for the pockets, their concern grew to new heights. Chrom was worried that she'd found more frogs. Frederick wondered if she'd nicked any of his pebbles, given she wasn't adequately prepared to use them with her current training.
She came up with a tattered journal, a bright yellow spellbook, an entire bronze sword, and a bottle of ketchup. "So many frogs," She said, thinking about the amount of frogs she would put in the pockets. Maybe even a healing staff, or perhaps even a horse for moments like this. She looked up, noticing Chrom and Frederick for seemingly the first time. "I'm taking the coat," Lissa decided. "It makes me feel super tactical!" She demonstrated, waving the bronze sword around cheerfully.
Being his usual self, and finding the coat very trustworthy, Chrom agreed to this. "Well, why not?" He said, looking at Frederick, "After all, it's cheering her up."
"Milord, that's exactly what I was afraid of. Naga only knows what she'll do with a coat that untrustworthy."
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Far away, surrounded by motes of starlight and moats of sunlight, a massive and decidedly Divine Dragon sneezed. She wondered if she was late to her lunch with the plot, and resolved to phone in and maybe reschedule.
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Chrom frowned, getting the distinct impression he was missing something. "Lissa, there were books in that coat. Maybe we could find out who the original owner was?"
She rifled around in the coat. "I threw out the brown book, but the yellow one is a really neat looking lightning tome!" Yanking said book out, a bottle of ketchup also emerged at high speeds. Chrom, being his usual self, rescued it from a dreadful kidnapping by the road.
"There are better places for this than the ground, you know," Chrom muttered absently, "It could be important."
"Nah, it's all junk," Lissa replied cheerfully, watching Frederick grumpily interrogate the road in the distance, "Bunch of loose paper, a script for a play, and something about the return of Grima."
Snapping to attention, Chrom looked at his younger sister. "Wasn't the Grimleal related to Grima somehow?"
"Dunno," Lissa replied, feeling a strong urge to change her haircut to match this fantastic new coat, "I never payed attention during my history lessons."
Chrom shrugged as well, still holding the ketchup in his offhand. "Neither did I. What was the script for, then?"
Lissa promptly pulled the book out and flipped through it. She closed the book, paused, then flipped through it again. "Chrom? What's the Fire Emblem look like, again?"
He scoffed. "A shield, obviously."
"Not a flaming sword?"
"Not a flaming sword."
"Then I have no idea what this is on about," Lissa decided, tossing the script to the side of the road.
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"Azura?" A man with dashing white hair and a distaste for shoes asked, "What's a Fire Emblem?"
A woman with hair that was entirely too long and an equal distaste for shoes frowned. "A what?"
"A Fire Emblem. Says here that it's a shield of some sort."
"I'm pretty sure it's a sword, Corrin."
"Huh," Corrin said, frowning. "Then I have no idea what this is about."
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Chrom looked at the bottle of ketchup, then to the bandits shouting at him across the river. "I don't even like ketchup very much," He decided, hefting it. Closing one eye as he made some extremely vague guesses, he threw it with his considerable might at the one he presumed to be the leader of the bandits.
The story, having finally come grumbling back after missing a lunch date, had very much had enough and decided that it was going to salvage this.
The bandit crumpled to the ground as the bottle beaned him straight in the temple, and his subordinates decided it was as good a time as any to run. Unfortunately, the road had also had enough of this nonsense and they stumbled into a very irritable Frederick.
"I am going to enjoy this, you know," Frederick informed them politely before running them through with a lance.
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One rather short cleanup later, Chrom and Lissa dragged Frederick out of town before he attempted to confiscate the cobblestone road.
Chrom decided he very much liked the bottle of ketchup, and decided to promote it to Grand Tactician of Ylisse, given it had done a better job with less complaints than any of the Shepherds ever had.
Frederick, naturally, complained about this. Given Lissa was too busy discovering lightning magic and Chrom was trying to converse with a bottle of tomato sauce, he complained to a local bear. The bear was, at least, apologetic.
They enjoyed a nice meal of trail rations, because Frederick would never set foot outside the Castle with anything less than a full month's supplies.