A/N: Fire Emblem is the property of… whoever owns it. Which, unfortunately, is not me.

While this is kind of a continuation of "You Are Who You Are" and "The First Time is Awkward," it takes place in the original timeline. Everything takes place several years later than it does in-game to allow for enough time for parent/child bonds to develop before everything goes downhill. I've tried to extrapolate the events that happened based on the effects Lucina is said to have had, but the relationships are essentially the same.

He was dead.

Khan Basilio… was dead.

Everyone in the army knew that Walhart was strong. Exceedingly strong. Yet no one thought, even for an instant, that he would be able to fell the West-Khan. And, if the Feroxi soldiers were to be believed, he did it in only three blows.

Wren tried to focus on developing strategies and contingency plans for beating the Valmese army, but her mind kept wandering to the single fact that Basilio was no longer a player on the board. It terrified her and made her feel bad for even thinking of him as something besides the warrior titan he was. If only I'd been there, was the tactician's recurring thought as the small caravan carried her from Port Valm to the Ylissean army's current camp. If only I'd come over with the rest of the army…

It wasn't her fault. Not really. When she found that she was with child, the threat of Valm seemed so far away. Now, though… Wren couldn't believe she hadn't seen the signs. The small country of Valm… sweeping through and conquering the rest of the continent… it had only been a matter of time before they set their sights on Ferox, Plegia, and Ylisse. And when that had happened, the tactician was really starting to show. Lon'qu, Chrom, even Flavia and Basilio told her to stay behind until she gave birth and recovered. Wren had acquiesced to their request for the sake of her child, doing what she could to help the war effort from home.

Now, two months after everyone else had set off to Valm, their tactician was finally catching up. Morgan was safe in Ylisse, and Wren was ready to win this war.

But Basilio was dead.

And she kept thinking that it was her fault for not being there.

"We're here." The calm voice of her chauffeur snapped Wren out of her reverie and back to the present. They were entering the courtyard of a large fort – Fort Steiger, she believed – and the several soldiers training therein turned to see the short parade of horses and riders head to the stables. The tactician looked back at them, just to gauge their mood, and what she saw made her spirit fall further than it already had.

These soldiers were disheartened. A few seemed to give off a sense of relief at seeing the brilliant tactician of Ylisse finally reach the front lines, but that was just it. Relief. Meaning that the time when she wasn't there to direct their advances was worse than normal. I have to raise their morale somehow, Wren mused as she dismounted and handed her horse off to someone. At least, she thought she did. Looking back, she had to squint her eyes and look sideways, but that was definitely Kellam. That's odd. Was he not trying to get my attention? She was being pushed towards the fort itself, so she didn't have enough time to stop and call out to him. No sense in delaying her meeting with Chrom.

Inside, the Ylissean prince, his younger sister, the East-Khan, and several of the highest ranked warriors in their army were gathered in what might've once been the throne room to the ruler of these lands before Walhart's conquest. As soon as she set foot inside the surprisingly small – for a throne room – hall, everyone turned to her, and Wren got a good look at the hopelessness on their faces. But Chrom's scowl and deeply furrowed brow instantly softened, and he ran up to embrace her. In his excitement, he actually lifted her off the floor for a moment.

"Wren! Thank the gods you're here," he nearly cried, hugging her to him as if she'd disappear if he let go. The tactician returned the gesture and patted him on the back for good measure. Only then did he let her go.

"And I'm glad to be here," she sighed. Wren absentmindedly rubbed where she'd been hugged, fairly certain that her arm was going to bruise. "I just…" Any glee she had obtained from seeing her best friend again was dashed as she remembered the last bit of news she'd heard. "I just wish I could've come sooner."

A loud harrumph echoed from behind, drawing Wren's attention to the fact that everyone else had been gathering around them. The source of the noise was none other than the East-Khan herself. "Don't blame yourself for anything, girl," Flavia said – no, demanded. "That oaf wouldn't have wanted anyone laying blame on themselves, you least of all. Now buck up! We've a war to win." Even if her words were harsh, Wren couldn't help but feel grateful that she was acting like her normal self. Sure, her voice was strained and her words sounded pained at best, but if Flavia could soldier through this time, then what else could the tactician do but follow her lead.

"She's right," Chrom said. Everyone was nodding along with their leaders, and Wren knew she saw hints of smiles peeking through their masks of sorrow. "Basilio bought us enough time to take out Yen'fay and some of his strongest soldiers. The rest of the southern army crumbled without him, though Say'ri is a little worse for wear."

Wren just nodded. She'd heard of the Chon'sin princess and her help in aiding their own war efforts. The tactician would have to talk with her at some point, but all she saw were familiar faces in the throne room, so she filed that thought away for later. "Sounds like you've managed so far," the tactician said. "Bring me up to speed on the situation, and I'll start work right away."

Chrom shook his head. "No, you've probably had a rough journey. I'd rather you rest up before leaping back into the fray." The Ylissean's prince's slight smile turned flat, and he fiddled with the edge of his cloak, a gesture Wren had long ago learned meant that he was thinking of how to word something. "And… there's something else that needs your attention. You see…"

"I'll just show her." Wren's head snapped to see Sumia standing by her husband's side. Either she was taking lessons from Kellam in the arts of stealth or the tactician was more tired than she thought. "A picture tells a thousand words and all that, right? You just get back to planning. I'm sure Wren would like it a lot better if all our information was sorted before she needs to use it."

No one needed a psychic to know what Chrom's answer to that would be. Sumia had an odd way for getting him to do what she wanted, after all. It would've been scary had she not been so nice about it. "Yeah, that's actually a good idea," he agreed. "We'll make sure that everything's in order before tomorrow, Wren. Then you can plan without worrying about a mess of papers."

All attempts at humor were falling flat in the face of the overwhelming aura of depression that hung above them all. Still, Wren could feel that everyone's spirits were lifted, even slightly, by her arrival. Just this once, she thought, she could let them handle the initial organization. "Okay, Sumia," she yawned. Yes, she was certainly more tired than she thought. "What's this problem that needs my attention?"

A/N: Please comment, critique, or question! I love feedback, and every little bit helps.