Or: Disowned by Time

"Is this the place?" I asked.

Chrom surveyed the ancient blue bricks before us, squinting and nodding slowly. "Yeah, it's got to be. The townsfolk spoke of ruins in these parts that carry the legacy of the divine dragon. Of course, they neglected to mention that the place was crawling with Risen…" He sighed and shook his head. He turned to face me. "I suppose we're going to have to earn this treasure the old-fashioned way."

"It'll be worth it, I promise," I said with a confident smirk. "Don't worry about it. We can handle some Risen."

"I have no doubt of that," Chrom said. "But this is a commitment of our time and resources. I could think of vastly more productive ways to spend this time, rather than… looting."

"It's not looting," I complained. "It's gathering more resources. Spend some to make some, right?"

"Better be worth its weight in bullion," Chrom muttered. "Fine, fine. We're this close, no sense in complaining. Let's start preparations, then."

I beamed.

We briefly discussed strategy. By this point, we knew each other well enough to not waste any time, and he agreed to my recommendations for the party and their loadouts.

"All right, Shepherds," Chrom said, "time to sortie. The remainder of the group: set up camp, we'll be spending the night once we're done here."

He gestured for the party to follow him into the ruins.

I marveled at the spectacular construction of the Ruins of Time. Ancient stones stacked seemingly haphazardly atop one another still stood, even after possibly thousands of years. The floor was still smooth and whole, and water ran between the floor tiles as though it were new.

"Who could have built this place?" I wondered aloud.

"Who cares?" Lissa stated, a teasing edge in her voice. "S'just a buncha water and floor."

"Don't you start."

"Enough," Chrom said wearily, not even turning around. I felt kinda bad; he seemed tired of this excursion already, and I was the one who had suggested it.

"Oh, lighten up, Chrom," said Lissa. "We deserve some fun."

"You two have enough fun," Chrom said. "More than I like to think about."

"If you're talking about smooching, you're absolutely right," Lissa said. "There's tons of smooching."

I used to flinch whenever Lissa would try to press Chrom's buttons like that. I'd gotten used to it.

Chrom just shook his head. "Geez, Lissa…"

Lissa hummed to herself, satisfied, and shot me a covert wink. I tried really hard to give her a stern look, but I couldn't help but grin a little. Lissa cracks me up.

Chrom raised an open palm, and we halted. "Risen," he said. "And some treasure, too."

"Then let's clean both out," I said.

I'd brought in an odd number of fighters, so everyone was paired up but me. I was definitely powerful enough to protect myself, but Chrom still insisted I take a Defense Tonic beforehand as a precaution.

"Hey Robin."

"Hm?" I turned to face Lissa. She swiftly pulled me down by my collar and gave me a quick kiss.

She smiled. "Good luck," she said. "Don't worry about me, 'kay?"

"Not as long as Owain is here to protect you," I chuckled. "Love you."

"Love you too." She punched me on the shoulder playfully. "Knock 'em dead."

"You know it."

I passed by Owain and pat him on the shoulder. "Take care of your mother," I said.

"But of course," Owain said pompously. "As if a true hero would possibly deign to let the blight of evil lay a finger upon—"

"Yes, yes," I said absently, and kept walking.

Chrom faced me as I approached. "All is in order?"

"Yeah," I said. "Ready?"

"Yes." He drew the Falchion and raised it skyward. "Move out!"

The battle, if one could call it that, progressed smoothly. We greatly outmatched the Risen before us and carved a swift path through the ruins.

I spotted a treasure chest to the southeast and moved toward it, a greedy twinkle in my eye. I fumbled in my cloak for a key, worrying for a moment that I'd forgotten to bring one; that fear was for naught, as I quickly found it and delved into the chest's contents.

Some gold bullion shined up at me. I beamed back. "This should satisfy Chrom," I murmured, closing the chest and picking it up.

There was a cough. I frowned and placed the chest back down, drawing my sword. I couldn't see any Risen nearby, and that made me antsy.

I waited patiently for another sound to give away its position.

Sure enough, another moment passed and there was a guttural growl. I moved toward the sound, weapon at the ready.

I soon found an unarmed Risen standing over a young, blonde cleric. It noticed me and snarled, charging at me with its bare hands. I cut it down with ease.

I sheathed my sword and stood next to the girl. Blood lay around the cleric, and her clothes were dotted with red stains. She clutched her staff to her breast, her eyes clenched shut.

I knelt down and took her in my arms instinctively. "Hey," I whispered. "Are you all right?"

She coughed blood onto my sleeve. "I… I c-can't see…"

I grimaced; it wasn't hard to see why. The Risen had clawed at her face, and long, red gashes stretched from her bangs to her chin. Blood mixed with dirt dripped from her face to her neck. "It's going to be okay," I said shakily.

She shook her head slightly, a tiny smile on her lips. "No, no… I've lost a lot of blood, and it clawed my stomach open… No staff can heal that."

I was tempted to check and see if she told the truth, but thought better of it. "You... don't look like a treasure hunter. What brought you here?"

She took a shivering breath. "I… I was looking for my father… We got separated…"

"A cleric shouldn't be in battle by herself," I said.

"Heheh… I know… We're best behind the front lines, or paired up with someone who can protect us," she said, as if quoting from a book. "I didn't mean to end up here, but…" She coughed. A tear rolled down her cheek.

I wiped it away. "It's okay," I said. "Shh…" I pressed her head up to my chest protectively. "What's your name?"

"M-Morgan," she said. "I… I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Don't… Don't grieve," Morgan whispered. She feebly pushed at me, and I laid her down on the ancient marble floor with gentle care. When she spoke again, her voice was distant and faint. "Father… where are you? Let me see your face… once more…"

Morgan's head sank, and she breathed her last.

I couldn't move.

An ache began to grow in my chest. A pain I hadn't felt in two years: the only other time I had ever let someone die.

I fell to all fours, staring at the ground and trying to control myself. Despite Morgan's words, I grieved. I clutched at Morgan's dress, as though to rouse her; but I could hardly move. I stared down at my useless hands, at the mark of Grima etched into the right.

I trembled quietly for a long time, my eyes squeezed shut in an attempt at restraint. I knelt by Morgan's body, unmoving, until I heard footsteps approaching.

"Robin?" Chrom asked.

I cleared my throat and stood, my back to him. "Hey, Chrom."

"Who…?" he began solemnly.

"I wish I knew."

Chrom inclined his head respectfully. "I'm sorry, Robin."

I knelt down and picked up Morgan, and started walking back wordlessly. Chrom stepped aside to let me by, a deep frown etched in his face.

The others had already left for camp, so Chrom and I walked together silently.

"Damned Risen," I muttered suddenly, not trusting my voice to go louder. "She wasn't… She never…" Tears welled in my eyes.

Chrom put a hand on my shoulder. "I know," he said. "This can never happen again. Grima… he will pay."

I looked down at Morgan. She wore a tranquil expression on her disfigured face. "She didn't deserve this."

"I know, Robin. I know."

Most of the camp was asleep or occupied when we returned, and we, too, were similarly exhausted. Chrom and I placed Morgan in a makeshift coffin and agreed to properly bury her in the morning.

I quietly slipped into my tent. Lissa was in the middle of brushing her hair. "Hey," I said softly.

She turned around and beamed at me. "Hey, Robin! How'd it go?"

Her smiling face instantly brought Morgan to mind. I could practically see Morgan in her.

I strode closer without a word. Her smile faded as I approached. "Um, Rob—?"

I hugged her tightly. She held her arms up, perplexed, but eventually reciprocated the hug. "What's wrong, Robin?"

"I love you," I choked. "I love you so much."

"I know that," she chuckled. She took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye seriously. "Robin, of course I know that. What's wrong?"

I looked away. "There was… there was a cleric there in the ruins. She was wounded when I got there, and she… she died… right in front of me."

Lissa put a hand on my cheek. "Robin… that's not your fault."

"I feel like… there's something I could've done," I said. "I could've argued less with Chrom, or started the battle earlier, or… prepared quicker, or…"

Lissa hugged me. "Shh," she cooed in my ear, "shh."

"A Naga's Tear? Really?" I asked.

Lissa nodded, which shifted the pillow around. "Pretty sweet, huh? Should keep us safe in the battles to come!"

I chuckled, adjusting my hand to hold hers more comfortably. "What time do you think it is?"

"Really, really late," Lissa giggled. "You can hear Owain snoring in the next tent over."

"Yeah," I said. "It's nice to talk, though."

"We'll regret it in the morning when we're sleep-deprived and running all over the continent…" she sighed.

"Worth it," I said with a grin.

"So," she said, rolling over and wrapping her arms around mine, "when do you think Owain is born?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you dropping hints right now?"

Lissa pouted. "You're such a perv. No, I was actually thinking about how much time we have, like, to prepare."

"I'm sure it will never be hard to find diapers or a crib."

"I mean for naming him," she said.

"Naming?" I said, surprised. "I thought we were going to name him 'Owain.'"

"Well… I do really like that name… but I don't want to feel like I have to, you know? I mean, he's my son, I should get to name him, not… future-me."

"Future-Lissa had the right idea," I said. "Thinking of a good name would just be reinventing the wheel. She got the hard work out of the way for you."

She pouted again. "But! I've always looked forward to naming my hypothetical son—or not-so-hypothetical, I guess—ever since I was a kid. Sure, my first choice was Owain, but what about my other ones, like…" She scrunched up her face in thought. "Like Ephraim, or Marth?"

"Marth? Seriously? You'd name our son after the Hero-King."

"Owain's all about heroism and cool names and junk," Lissa said. "He'd totally like being named after a hero!"

"It's a little… unoriginal," I said.

"Hmm, you're right," she said. "And my Owain is all about originality, so he'd hate it…"

"Totally what I meant."

"I'll brainstorm some more," she continued.

"Just go with Owain. That name is great." I frowned thoughtfully. "What about daughters? Any name ideas for those?"

Her face went blank. "…Caeda?"

I rolled my eyes. "No historical names!"

Lissa smirked. "Okay, how 'bout this: I'll name Owain—er, I mean, our son, and if we have any daughters, you can name them?"

"Sure," I said.

"Alright, let's hear it," she said smugly. "What great girl names shoot to mind?"

I thought for a moment. "…Morgan."

"Morgan, huh," Lissa said. "Morgan. Morgan. Mor…gan." She nodded. "I could get used to it. It's a little unisex, though."

"I love it," I said. "I think it'd be perfect for our daughter."

Lissa giggled. "All right then, a deal's a deal. Our first daughter will be named Morgan."

I smiled.

Chrom poked his head into our tent while I was lacing my boots. "Ah, you're up. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Go where?" Lissa asked as she brushed her hair.

"We're going to bury the girl from yesterday," I said. "I'll be back soon."

"W-What?!" Lissa said, alarmed. "No, no! You can't just bury her like that! She needs a funeral!"

Chrom frowned. "Everyone's busy, and I don't think—"

Lissa scowled, strode over to Chrom, and poked him in the chest. "That girl deserves some respect! Even if nobody knew her, dammit, she deserves a real funeral, with real people and real flowers and real tears!"

"As opposed to… fake people?" Chrom asked. "Lissa, that's going to take a lot of time and if everyone comes—"

"I don't care!" Lissa said. "Someone has to stand up for her, and if it's not my husband, then it's me!" She picked up her shoes angrily. "I'm going to spread the word. You two better set up some benches, 'cause you're expecting about forty guests!" And she stormed out, her hair half-combed.

Chrom sighed. "That girl, I swear."

I shrugged. "I get what you were saying, but I think Lissa is right."

"It can't do any harm," Chrom agreed. "The dead are due their respect. Let's set things up, Robin."

"Right behind you."

"Who, exactly, is this funeral for?" I overheard Kjelle whispering a few rows behind me.

Severa answered disdainfully. "Some sap they found in the ruins last night. I heard they found him dying, and Robin got so bleeding-heart upset about it that Chrom threw this whole charade for him." She ignored Kjelle's panicked shush. "I guess we throw huge funerals for just anyone, nowadays."

"Severa!" Kjelle hissed under her breath.

As much as Severa's words made my blood boil, I saw her point. Nobody knew Morgan. Nobody would have any words to say. And death was such a casual thing in the world she came from, she couldn't empathize with the death of anyone she didn't know.

I glanced around and realized that most of the children from the future probably thought the same way, but showed better tact.

Chrom cleared his throat, capturing the group's attention. "Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming. I understand that this is a little… impromptu… and irregular, but we are here this beautiful morning to mourn the passing of a fellow adventurer and possibly, in a better world, comrade, who sadly fell victim to the Risen yesterday evening in the Ruins of Time. My dear friend Robin was there in her final moments, so please, if you would like to say a few words…" Chrom stepped a little to the side, giving me a spot to stand.

As I stood up, I heard Severa remark under her breath, "Okay, 'her.' Big difference."

I walked to the front awkwardly, unused to big speeches. That was Chrom's thing.

"Hi," I ventured awkwardly. "I'm, uh, Robin… the guy he was talking about. Um, yeah… so, yesterday, in the, uh, the Ruins of Time, I found this cleric… this cleric, who had been… attacked, by a Risen." I scratched my head. "She was all alone, nobody with her, and was… was blind from the attack."

I saw Severa roll her eyes, and I quickly looked away, searching for Lissa's eyes in the crowd. I found her near the front, and she smiled encouragingly at me, mouthing 'Keep going!'

I cleared my throat. "In… In her last words, she told me that she was looking for her father, since they'd been separated. I didn't get much chance to talk to her, but in the moments we had, she made a deep, emotional impact on me." I gained confidence as I spoke. "She… was kind, and intelligent, and I can't take a step without remembering her face. I… I wish that girl was still alive. I didn't know her that well… none of us did… but the world is worse off without her presence. So," I said, reaching for my water can, "I know we don't have enough wine for everyone, so let's all raise our canteens in memory of Morgan. May the gods welcome her with open arms." I raised my canteen.

"Hear, hear," said Chrom, raising his canteen.

Scattered echoes of 'hear, hear' sounded from the crowd, and about half the procession raised their canteens.

For a moment, I was utterly baffled that so few would echo Chrom, before I realized it was only the present-day Shepherds who had responded.

A deep-settled rage alit within me at the lack of empathy from the future children. I was on the verge of outburst, but someone else beat me to it.

Severa leapt to her feet, gripping the chair in front of her tightly. "What?!" she shouted, a furious tear trickling down her cheek.

Owain stood as well, wearing a horrified expression. "Father, did you say Morgan?"

My fury was replaced by utter confusion. I glanced at Chrom, and he looked just as puzzled as me.

"Owain, Severa, please," Lucina said calmly, "have a seat."

Both of them reluctantly sat down.

Lucina stood and approached the front. "Father, may I please look at the body?"

Chrom, baffled as he was, didn't know how to say no. "Y-Yes, of course, Lucina."

Lucina stepped past me and eased the lid off of the coffin. She grimaced. "Gods. It is true." She turned around. "Yes. This is the same Morgan."

"Lucina… was Morgan from the future?" Chrom asked.

Lucina nodded solemnly. "Indeed," she said.

I felt gut-punched. Morgan…

"I… I'm sorry to say, but yes. I was quite close with dear Morgan," Lucina said, maintaining her composure quite well. "We all were…"

"I—I don't believe it!" Severa cried. She stood again. "Let me see!"

She stormed to the front, with Kjelle not far behind. We all silently watched her go, a sort of tension in the air.

As Severa neared Morgan, she slowed down, as if losing her resolve.

Severa inched her way forward, forcing herself to look into the casket. I heard her breath catch, and she stumbled a little bit; Kjelle took her arm and helped her stand. Severa's lips quivered, not quite forming words.

"W-Well, I don't believe it either!" Cynthia piped in. "Morgan could never—! Let me see!"

She started toward the front as well, and several other time-travelers followed her, forming a line of sorts.

"Guess this funeral's open-casket?" Chrom noted.

"Guess so," I said, watching the crowd peering into the casket, like curious children… but way more depressing. I looked back toward the audience, where most of the present-day Shepherds sat, more than a little bewildered.

Then I noticed Owain, still sitting next to Lissa. His eyes were downcast and his arms crossed, with an adamant frown on his face.

I caught his attention with a subtle wave. 'Why don't you join them?' I signaled.

He shook his head and looked away.

I exchanged concerned glances with Chrom. "How does this go now?" I whispered.

Chrom shrugged.

I turned back toward the future children. Cynthia leaned against Gerome, crying into his shoulder. Gerome himself seemed impassive, but I could make out a small, pained grimace hiding behind that mask. The rest also displayed varying levels of grief.

As wrong as it seemed to admit it, I felt better. I wasn't alone with this feeling. More importantly, Morgan was with friends now; she could now receive a proper burial. She would be remembered.

Inigo turned around, eyes red, and raised his hand. "I'd like to say a few words," he said.

"Me too," Noire hiccupped.

"I, as well," Laurent added soberly.

"And me!" Yarne sobbed.

The other future children around them chimed in, one after another.

I smiled slightly.

I learned a lot about Morgan as the morning wore on. She was a cheerful girl, and a bit of a chatterbox. She was extremely smart and talented, and kind. And there was one time Lucina had broken a vase, and Morgan volunteered to take the blame in exchange for all of Lucina's desserts for a week. And another time, when Inigo had come home totally drunk, and Morgan helped him sneak in without Olivia noticing. And how she, Cynthia, and Owain had all teamed up and made the Justice Cabal, a team dedicated to heroics and serving righteous justice. And dozens of other stories, painting the exact picture of Morgan that I had imagined when I met her. And as the stories were told, the warmer my heart became.

And the heavier.

"…And that… I suppose that's all I have to say," finished Nah. She wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry. Thank you." She bowed out.

Chrom looked around, but all the volunteers had spoken.

Inigo tilted his head, frowning sadly. "Owain."

Owain looked away, refusing to leave his seat.

"Owain, come on," Inigo said, stepping forward and offering his hand. "You have to."

"No I don't," Owain stated.

"Owain," Cynthia pleaded. "Say some words."

"I don't want to."

Lucina frowned. "Owain… I understand exactly what you must be going through. We've all lost those close to us. Nothing hurts more than how… sudden this was. But if you don't speak on her behalf, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Owain was silent. I noticed his knuckles were white.

"Owain," Lucina continued, "it's your sister."

My head snapped back to Lucina. "Sister?!" I looked to Lissa, who seemed as horrified as me.

Owain aggressively stood up, storming to the front and whirling around. I'd never seen such agony in his face. "Yes," Owain said, "it's true, Mom and Dad. Morgan's my sister. And she was the best damn sister anyone could ask for!" He didn't seem to care that tears streamed from his eyes. "I never told you about her, because—I wanted it to be a surprise. 'Boom! You actually had two kids, and this new one is even more awesome than the first!' And then we could've reunited, and shared stories about the future with you guys, and had tons of fun!" He clenched his hands into fists, glaring at his feet. "But now that's gone! Morgan is dead, and I never even got to see her again! Never got to—got to speak to her, or—play another prank on her, or—save the world with her…" He stopped, trembling. "It's not fair! I love her so much, and I can't believe—I can't believe she could be gone! It's not—not possible!"

Lucina put a hand on Owain's shoulder. Cynthia and Noire took his hands, and Inigo put his arm around him. Owain halfheartedly tried to shake them off, but that only invited the rest of the future children to envelop him in an embrace. Lissa stepped up as well, and the crowd parted to let her through to her son.

I felt dizzy, and reached for Chrom to support me, which he did. "You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah… just…" I breathed. "I need to sit down…"

Chrom helped me to a seat, placing me between Sumia and Maribelle. I later learned Kellam was next to us as well.

Maribelle fanned me, concerned. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I didn't know… I can't believe…"

Sumia hugged me. "I'm so sorry, Robin!"

"Quite!" Maribelle said. "I'll be honest, Robin, I had my reservations about this… procession… at first. But seeing the way my dear Brady reacted, I…" She looked away, pretending she wasn't crying. "I must admit, I was… overcome."

"You can let go now," I told Sumia.

"Sorry, can't," she said. "Too sad."

"I agree wholeheartedly," said Maribelle. "Were it not for my status, I, too, would cling to you like adhesive."

"Odd way to put it," I said.

"…But, of course, this is an, er, important… Oh, forget it!" Maribelle hugged me, too.

"Guys, this… REALLY isn't necessary," I said awkwardly. My wife was right there.

"Preposterous," Maribelle said indignantly. "I—er, you require comfort in this time! And a hug is, obviously, the most direct way to show my support and empathy."

"What she said, I guess," said Sumia. "I'm just doing it to try to make you feel better, though."

I sighed.

Most of the funeral attendees dispersed over the next hour, each modern Shepherd giving me and Lissa condolences, and us reciprocating for the future Shepherds.

"Can you believe it?" Lissa asked as we walked back to our tent. "Another child."

"I know," I said. "It's so surreal… to have another daughter just as soon as we've lost her."

Lissa nodded. "I didn't cry," she said. "I was tough."

"Liar."

She sniffed. "Okay, I bawled. I'm going to bawl some more later, too. Promise you'll hug me if I do?"

"I promise," I said quietly.

Lissa smiled, squeezing my hand. I smiled back sadly.

"Don't you start crying, now," she said. "That'll—that'll get me started again." She sniffed.

I looked around. "Where's Owain?"

Lissa looked around, too. "I don't see him. You think he's back at the funeral still?"

"Maybe," I said. "I'll go get him, okay?"

"'Kay," she said. "I'll be in the tent."

"Okay. Love you." I kissed her on the cheek and left.

I passed by Chrom as I neared the funeral area. "Chrom?" I asked. "I thought you were handling the burial?"

"Yeah," Chrom said. "Owain asked for a moment alone with Morgan before I did so. He's next to her casket if you want to speak with him."

"Thanks," I said, and passed him by.

As Chrom promised, Owain was there, kneeling against Morgan's open casket. He was still and silent.

Out of concern, I started to speak, but he spoke first, not noticing I was there.

"Remember the time you couldn't remember where you'd left your tome?" Owain murmured. "You were so distraught, you tried hitting yourself in the head with a book to try and jog your memory." He chuckled. "You were such an idiot, Morgan… Even when there's an obvious solution, you always jumped to the weirdest one instead." Owain placed his forehead on the edge of the casket. "You looked up to Father so much. You wanted to be the greatest tactician ever, and you succeeded, once Father… once he…" Owain trailed off. "You never gave yourself enough credit, though. You always thought Dad was the better strategist, even when all we had was you. You never… understood… how important you were, Morgan. Do you know how many times your tactical skill saved our hides? …All the time. Morgan, you were so… so…"

Owain looked up to the sky. "I love you, Morgan. You deserved better than this. This wasn't a hero's death." He reached into the casket to touch Morgan's disfigured cheek. "Good night, Morgan. You'll be lonely up there with the gods for a while, but whenever I go… would you put in a good word for ol' Owain?"

He inclined his head and began to pray.

I stepped forward and knelt next to him. I began to pray as well.

Owain chuckled humorlessly. "What a sorry state to find me in, eh, Father?"

"Hardly," I said. "I know Morgan's listening. She has to be."

"I think so too." He looked up at the afternoon sky. "I just wish she could speak back."

We were silent for a moment.

I looked down into Morgan's casket, at the serene look on her face.

"Listen, Morgan," I ventured. "I don't know… how great of a father I was, but I know I must have loved you. Else, I was the biggest idiot in the world. I will never get to know you as you were in the future, but just know one thing." I touched her cold hand. "When you are born in this world, I promise—I will love you more than future Robin ever did. I will never let you go. Ever." I squeezed her hand, and pulled away, standing up. Owain stood as well.

"Father," Owain said, "this can change, can't it?"

"Of course," I said. "As Chrom always says, anything can change. We've already averted most of the apocalypse. We saved Basilio. We killed Validar." I touched my chest. "I'm still here, with you. If that doesn't prove Chrom right, I don't know what does."

Owain sniffed. "We should help Chrom with this," he said.

"I couldn't agree more."

"We'll head out for Mount Prism in the morning," Chrom told me. "It's already afternoon, and nobody's packed. No sense in starting now."

"What are we going to do for the rest of the day?" I asked. "There isn't exactly much to do in that town, unless they know about any more treasure-filled ruins."

Chrom shrugged. "If you want to start packing now and walk through the night, be my guest. Have fun convincing the others to follow you."

"Hmph. Guess we get to relax for a while, then."

"Consider it down time," said Chrom. "I'll be training, if you want to join me."

"No… I want to spend time with my family."

Chrom nodded. "The offer stands, of course. See you."

I thought as I walked. About the future. About Morgan.

About my family.

A few weeks earlier

"…No." I shook my head.

Owain seemed a little surprised. "Father—"

"I won't consider it," I said. I glanced aside at Lissa, and she nodded in support. "We won't consider it."

Owain frowned, frustrated. "But Father, the family of the legendary heroes Robin and Lissa needs no interference! I'll not tarnish that with my presence once the war is over."

"Owain, dear," Lissa said sweetly, "I really, really appreciate the thought. But hell no."

"What would you do?" I said. "If you didn't live with us, where would you go?"

"I'd travel the land, a wandering hero of whom the legends would speak!" Owain boasted, taking his hero pose: hiding half his face with his hand. "Certainly the world would have use of my ample skills!"

"We're a family," I said. "We'll stay together. If you want to go heroing, fine, but you are not allowed to simply cut yourself out like that. Our home will still be your home. Besides," I added, "you are our only child, and you've only been here for a short while. Why would we agree to give you up now?"

His eyes shifted. "Er, yes," he said, "I suppose you… have a point there." He nodded. "All right, you've convinced me, Father. I won't leave."

I let the tent flap fall behind me, and I put my hands on my hips. "You gonna be alright, Owain?" I asked.

"Of course," Owain said. "Certainly I shall grieve our fallen companion, but a true hero lets nothing stop his path of justice."

"Well put, I suppose," I said. "Glad to see your silver tongue is back."

Owain struck his hero pose. "Yes sir! Now, I would like to be off to go train…"

"That's going to be difficult," I said, gesturing to his mother. Lissa had her arms tightly wrapped around Owain's waist, holding him on the bed. "Lissa?"

"Not gonna happen," she said.

Owain and I sighed together.

"Mother, please," Owain said, struggling against her iron grip. "I really must go…"

"Fine," she said, and released him.

Owain stood and saluted us both. "I shall see you tonight," he said dramatically, and left.

Lissa frowned. "Damn kids," she muttered. "Mommy just wanted a hug…"

"I'll give you one," I said, walking over with my arms outstretched.

"I get tons of hugs from you," she said, pouting. "I wanted one from Owain."

"Aw, geez. Right in the feelings." I pulled up a chair from my desk and sat opposite her. "So, any plans for what to do with the rest of the day?"

"And you!" Lissa said, ignoring me. "You are a hypocrite, good sir!"

I blinked.

"Did you not, on yester evening, declare to me that I am to use no historical names when naming our not-so-hypothetical children?" she accused.

I squinted, trying to follow her sentence. "Uh… yeah, I shot down Marth and Caeda… if that's what you mean?"

"And yet," she continued, raising a declaratory finger, "you were perfectly willing to dupe me into naming our not-so-hypothetical daughter after a historical figure you knew, in this case, Morgan?"

"Wha… yeah? Maybe? What?"

She huffed impatiently. "You said no historical names! Morgan is totally a historical name!" She pointed at me. "J'accuse!"

"Wha—no!" I said. "No more historical than Owain! She turned out to actually be our daughter!"

She waggled her finger. "But you didn't know that! You tried to cheat me out of two perfectly good names." She crossed her arms, smirking with satisfaction. "So now, Marth and Caeda are officially back on the table."

I facepalmed. "You… must be joking."

She hummed to herself. "It's fun to be right for once."

"'For once.' You're so full of it," I chuckled, and reached over to ruffle her hair.

"Mmf! You know I hate it when you do that," she said, lifting my hand off. "I feel like a kid when you do that. Treating me like I'm delicate! I am not delicate!"

"Heh. Trust me, I know," I said. "I just… I like to feel like I can protect you."

"That's sweet," she said, "but you can do that without irritating me."

I smiled. "C'mon, Lissa, don't be like that," I said. "Humor me."

"Hmph!" she said. "You protect me enough when we're in combat. That doesn't have to extend to our bedroom!"

"I suppose that's fair," I sighed. "You win, Lissa. I'll only mess with your hair during combat."

"That's bet—Ugh!" Lissa covered her hair with her hands in quite a childlike fashion. "You jerk!"

I winked at her with a smirk. She looked away, trying hard to stifle a grin of her own.

I became serious. "But still," I said, "you are safe as long as I'm here. I will protect you as long as I have to."

"And I guess by 'you,' you mean everyone in the army," Lissa said. "The Shepherds."

"I do," I said earnestly. "Everyone is safe on my watch."

"What is your 'watch'?" Lissa asked. "When does it end?"

I made as if to speak, but no answer came to mind. When does it end?

When can I rest?

"When… when Grima is defeated," I said. "Then… then the world will be safe, and…"

She crossed her arms, concerned. "You don't sound so sure."

"Yeah," I said. "What about… bandits? Or if the Risen don't all go away immediately? Or… or other problems…" I rested my face on my hands. "It's never… really over, is it?"

"Robin," she said, reaching over to take my hands, "when this war is over, you'll have saved the world! You'll be a hero, even more so than you are now! You can retire, and we can raise a family like we want to." She put a hand on my cheek. "You can stop then. We'll be in Ylisse, living like royalty because, well, we are. You, me, Owain… we'll be safe, and you won't have to worry about us then."

"But what about the others?" I said. "What about Sully, or Virion, or Say'ri? I can't protect them if I'm cooped up in a castle." I stared at my feet, a sort of despair rising to my chest. "Or the citizens of Valm, or Ylisse, or Plegia? How can I protect them?"

Lissa furrowed her eyebrows. "No… by 'you,' you meant everyone everyone."

"Two people," I said, raising two fingers. "Two people I've ever lost." A dark thought occurred to me. "More. I lost all of Phila's squad, too." I shook my head. "Their deaths were all preventable. If I'd done something, anything, different, then they would all be here today."

"You can't know that," Lissa said. "They weren't under your command, none of them: not Phila, not Emm, not Morgan. You couldn't control what happened, and nobody blames you for their deaths!"

"I do," I said.

Lissa looked to be on the verge of tears. "Robin…!" she scolded.

"Maybe you're right," I said. "Maybe I couldn't have changed anything. But I can protect you."

She sniffed. "'You' being everyone?"

"Yes," I said bluntly. "But mostly you, Lissa. I can protect you, and I will."

"You idiot!" she said, throwing her arms around my neck and crying into my sleeve.

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe."

Mount Prism

"Hrrraaagh!"

"Father!" Lucina exclaimed, gripping the hilt of her Falchion anxiously.

Chrom staved her off with his hand. "I'm… I'm all right!"

There was a blinding flash of light, and all our eyes turned to the chasm before us. There appeared a strange figure who could only be…

"Be welcome, Awakener," said the figure. "Your heart has been tested and deemed worthy. Cleansed in my fire, your desire has proven to be the stronger."

Chrom blinked, catching his breath. "Then you will grant me the power to defeat Grima?" He looked at his hands. "…The power of a god?"

"Yes," said Naga. "But know this: I am no god."

Lucina stepped forward. "But milady, you are the divine dragon!"

Naga closed her eyes. She seemed melancholy. "So do sons of man name me. But I am no creator. I possess not the powers of making or unmaking. And neither does Grima."

Chrom frowned. "Then what power can you grant me?"

Naga lifted her hands. "With my blessing, thou may draw forth Falchion's true might. The blade of the exalts shall again strike like the dragon's fang. Your strength will then be my equal."

"But not strong enough to destroy Grima?" Chrom asked somberly.

"Alas, Grima cannot be slain. Sleep alone can be your victory. Just as your ancestor put the fell dragon to sleep a millennium ago."

I stared at the ground. Cannot be slain…

"But you must weaken him first," Naga continued. "Only as the final blow can my power be used to bind his."

Lissa echoed all our sentiments: "Isn't there ANY way to destroy him for good?"

"There is, perchance, a power that could end Grima," said Naga sadly. "However… 'Twould be his own."

Frederick's eyes narrowed. "…He has to kill himself?"

"Yes. And never would he do so of his own volition. He seeks only to add to his power, and set ruin upon the world. Now come. There is little time…"

"Where is Grima now?" Chrom asked.

"To the west lies a volcano known as Origin Peak," Naga replied. "You shall find the fell dragon there."

Mount Prism was quite a distance from Origin Peak, so I had much time to reflect on Naga's words. My eyes were constantly drawn to my own right hand, and the evil mark on it.

'Twould be his own.

"Origin Peak…" Chrom murmured, surveying the colossal volcano before us.

"The fell dragon is indeed here," said Naga. "Remember, Awakener! The power I gave you cannot destroy Grima."

"It can only put him back to sleep…" I added quietly.

"Correct, Fellblood," said the divine dragon.

'Fellblood.' How disdainful; yet I could not argue. "So you know of my lineage?"

"You possess power not so different from my own," she said, and I recognized her previous statement was not meant with malice.

Chrom gripped Falchion, frustrated. "We must find a way to break this unholy cycle! We can't just keep putting Grima back to sleep for a few centuries. Otherwise we merely will his vengeance on our descendants."

Everyone is safe on my watch.

"…I may know a way," I said.

Chrom turned to me, surprised. "Yes, Robin? You have some strategy?"

I looked him in the eye. "The other me claimed the dragon and I were the same, yes? If I strike the final blow, he'd be killed by his own hand…"

Chrom's face lit up. "Robin! Ingenious!" He turned to the divine dragon. "Naga? Will it work?"

She closed her eyes, quiet for a long moment. "…Perhaps. But there would be consequences. Grima's heart and Robin's are inexorably linked. Dragon and man can no longer be separated. Therefore, slaying Grima would also cause the end of Robin's life."

My heart sank. I'd hoped it wouldn't be true.

Is it ever… really over?

"…I realize that," I said, without emotion. "I am ready."

"There is… a chance you would survive, but it is small indeed," Naga continued slowly, cautiously. "You have bound your heart to those of many others in this world. If those ties prove strong enough, they may yet keep you in this reality."

My eyes widened a little, a spark of faith.

"But I would not give you false hope. The chance you would live is insignificant. In truth, you will almost certainly cease to exist."

The spark died.

I looked down, no reply springing to mind. Chrom spoke before I could, though:

"Robin would cease to be?!" he exclaimed indignantly. He shook his head. "No. We'll find another way."

"Chrom, wait," I said. "You're not thinking clearly. Think about what your sister would have wanted."

I quickly regretted those words. It was a low blow indeed to bring her up.

"Emmeryn would never have asked you to do this!" Chrom snarled.

He was right, she wouldn't. She wouldn't have asked another to do it for her.

She would have done it herself.

"What is one life, when weighed against millions?" I said. More than millions. Billions. This could possibly be humanity's last possible chance to destroy Grima, for all eternity. If I didn't take it…

"Stop it!" Chrom interrupted, gripping my shoulder tightly. "You're one of us. You'll ALWAYS be one of us. There has to be another way. We just have to find it. Promise me, Robin. Promise me you won't do this!"

There was a real fear in his eyes. But more than that, there was… conviction. A deep-seated conviction that told me he truly believed what he was saying.

That look… that was why I followed him. That was why I believed in him. Why all of us believed in him.

I took his shoulder in response, smiling wanly. "…You're right, Chrom. I'm sorry."

The fear left, and he relaxed into a relieved smile. "We swore to stand by each other, remember? We're two halves of a whole… Not even a dragon can sever us!"

Naga interrupted our moment: "The time for deliberation is over, Awakener. The Grimleal have found us."

A dark flash threw me off my feet and onto the hard, scaly ground, and I struggled for breath as I regained my senses.

I slowly got up on one knee, my every muscle crying for relief, and saw that the rest of the Shepherds were in a similar state.

"And so it ends, Robin."

My skin crawled at the sound of my own voice. I saw my doppelganger standing ahead, his head lolled back disturbingly, wearing a psychotic smirk.

"See how frail these human bonds of yours are?" Grima said, gesturing to my party. "How short lived? How pointless? You have all thrown your lives away, and the result is the same!"

I managed to climb to my feet, despite my body's protests. "We're not dead yet!" I shouted defiantly.

Grima waved it away. "Details, details." He sighed. "But yes, I suppose it is time I got you all off my back," he chuckled, "so to speak. Permanently."

I shook my head. "No…"

He stepped closer, looking me in the eye with those inhuman eyes of mine. "No, you don't want this, do you? You do have a choice, you know. It doesn't have to be this way. You can still save all your friends…" He offered me his hand. "Become one with me, and we shall spare their lives…" His eyes narrowed. "…Refuse, and watch as I rend the flesh from their bones!"

I stared at his hand. It bore the same mark as mine. "I…"

Chrom snapped me out of it. "No, Robin!" he coughed. "Don't… do it…" He tried to take a step closer, but he fell to his knees.

"He's lying…" said Lissa weakly. She raised her hand up to me, from where she lay on the ground. "It's… a trap…"

"NOW!" Grima roared; the volume blurred my vision. "I will have your decision! Will you save these worms? Will you JOIN ME and become a GOD?"

I looked at Chrom, who shivered with determination as he tried to climb to his feet. Lissa lay nearly still, looking up at me with pain in her eyes.

I faced Grima. "Do you think me a fool?" I snarled. "You'll kill them anyway!"

Grima paused. "…Well, of COURSE I would," he said flatly.

I blinked, surprised at his response.

"I only thought you might want to leave your comrades with a heroic, selfless image." He tsk-tsked, shaking his head. "…But so be it. Leave them with the final memory that you were their undoing!"

He raised his palm at me, and a darkness fell around the two of us.

I cried out in agony as a great pressure fell on my shoulders, and I collapsed to my knees.

"Robin!" Chrom shouted, before the darkness closed him off.

I winced, trying to stand once again. Grima knelt in front of me, smirking confidently.

"Where am I?" I grunted.

"Where your god wills you to be," he said simply, and stood. "Now if you will excuse me… I have some fleas on my back to take care of."

"No…" I muttered. Grima glanced back at me with mild interest. "…I won't let you!" I cried, gaining footing and reaching for my sword.

"You still DARE resist ME?!" Grima boomed, outraged. "Then perhaps I should end you first!"

He raised his hand, and the darkness tightened; my sword fell from my hand, and I collapsed again, letting out a cry of pain.

So dark… A sea of black… I squeezed my eyes shut. I have… no final strategy… No cards left to play… He has… won…

Lissa smiled at me. "Hey there!"

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," Chrom said. "Give me your hand."

I c-can't see… I can't hear… Despair gripped at me. I feel… nothing…

Morgan feebly pushed me away. "Father… where are you? Let me see your face… once more…"

…Nothing…

…

…

…

A sound. I… hear something… I thought vaguely. A voice…

"Fight back, Robin! You swore to do so, remember? Now keep your damn word!

C-Chrom? Chrom! "Chrom, I can hear you!" I blindly called out.

"What?!" the darkness said. "No! You are mine now! The dragon's grip cannot be broken!"

So many voices joined in. So many. All my comrades…

"Remember all the days we spent together!"

"We're all right here by your side!"

"Get up, Robin!"

"Pull it together, lad!"

"You'll return. I know you will!

"You are not Grima, nor is he you. Remember that, Robin!"

"Heed not the dark's eerie call, Father!"

One voice stood out above the rest.

"Come back to us, Robin!" Lissa was crying. "Come back!"

I gritted my teeth, a flaming determination alighting in my heart. "I… can hear them! I hear my friends!" I grunted, fighting to stand.

"Stop this at once!" Grima struck me again, and I staggered; but I stayed on my feet. "SILENCE those wretched voices! You are all powerless! Frail! Insignificant! You are NOOOOTHING!"

Chrom's voice broke through the darkness. "Return to us, Robin! Your bond with us is stronger than even the fell dragon's might!"

"Chrom!" I called out. I took a shaky step through the darkness. "I'm coming, Chrom!" Another step. "Hold on!"

I reached out into the darkness, pushing against the barrier. It would not budge.

I panted, unable to break it.

"Let me help, Father."

There she was, smiling at me.

"Morgan?" I whispered.

She placed her hands over mine. "Just push a little harder, alright?" she said cheerfully. "Everyone's waiting."

Tears welled in my eyes. "M-Morgan…"

"Hurry now," she said. "Push. Push."

I looked back toward the wall of shadow. "Push," Morgan repeated softly. "That's it. Harder now, Father. You can do it."

I screamed in pain, shoving at the wall with a concentrated effort. A sliver of light shone through.

"There you go," Morgan said happily. "Good work, Father!" She smiled at me. "I knew you could do it!"

"Morgan!" I cried.

"Tee hee!" she giggled. "Good luck with everything, Father! I'll see you soon!"

The shadows split in two, and I tumbled forward onto the scaly ground, right in front of Chrom. "You're back," he said with a grin, reaching out to me.

A shine of light caught my attention. Naga had arrived.

"Children of man, take my power!" she cried. "Rise now, and face the fell dragon!"

A brilliant flash radiated from her palm, and my weakness was gone. I rose to my feet, and the rest of the army followed.

I looked around, at all the faces of my comrades, and I smiled. "Now it's a real fight," I said.

"Robin!" Chrom said, shaking my hand. "Are you ready?"

"More than I've ever been," I said.

We met stiff resistance. Never before had the Risen been this organized, this powerful, this deadly. The Shepherds outmatched them man-to-man, but they had endless numbers on their side.

"We're close!" Chrom cried, cutting down a Risen with his exalted Falchion. "Grima stands before us!"

"Understood!" I said. "Let's end this, Chrom!"

Chrom, Lucina, Lissa, and I approached the nape of the fell dragon's neck, wielding our strongest weapons and exercising utmost caution. "Chrom, Lucina!" I said. "There he is!"

I pointed at him. Grima. Me. Standing there, his robes billowing with unspoken, eldritch power.

"Grima," Lucina snarled, gripping her sword tightly. "Shall we, Father?"

"We shall," said Chrom. "Cover us, Robin!"

I nodded. "Lissa, keep it up with that staff," I told her.

She nodded, grinning confidently. "You got it."

We moved as a group, staving off the Risen standing between us and Grima. "There, an opening!" I called, pointing. "Lucina, Chrom, engage Grima!"

"Got it!" The two lords charged forward, Falchions at the ready.

I couldn't follow their battle, busy as I was. I held the Tyrfing in my right hand, and clutched a Mjolnir tome in my left; with the two weapons of legend, I battled wave after wave of Risen, cutting swaths through the undead hordes and laying waste to those who would hurt my friends.

I heard a cry from behind me; I looked to see Lucina recoiling, struck by Grima's magic.

"Robin!" Chrom shouted over his shoulder. "Switch off!"

"Coming!" I called back. "Lissa, take Lucina and heal her quickly. Chrom and I will deal with Grima."

"Good luck," she panted.

I stepped in front of Lucina and struck with Mjolnir. Grima swatted the legendary magic aside, the lightning singeing his robe.

"USELESS…" Grima breathed. His voice had no semblance of humanity anymore, and was how a deep, malefic hiss. "RETURN TO ME… COME… WE ARE ONE… AND THE SAME…"

"Ignore it!" Chrom shouted, and dove in with the Falchion. Grima caught the blade in his forearm, his draconic strength protecting him. "We end this now!"

I cast another Mjolnir, striking Grima squarely in the chest. Grima winced, hissing, and the purple smoke of a Risen fell from his mouth.

I made to cast another attack, but Mjolnir dimmed, lifeless, and shriveled into ash. I cursed under my breath, and readied Tyrfing.

"Chrom!" I called, raising my sword. He nodded back and readied his.

I rushed Grima, slashing at him. Grima raised both his arms protectively, blocking the sword.

Chrom leapt in. "Have another!" he shouted, driving his sword under Grima's arms and cutting through mortal flesh.

Grima cried out in anger. His tome floated from the folds of his cloak, glowing with a black aura; a blast of dark energy tossed us both aside, and we crashed into the ground with a painful slam.

I winced, rising back to my feet, as Chrom did the same.

"Look," Chrom said. "Look at Grima."

I was confused for a moment, before I realized he meant the dragon, not the person. Grima's outer skull had fragmented into pieces, revealing a stony face underneath.

"He's weak," Chrom said, grinning. "We've got him."

I nodded, smiling wearily. "It's almost over."

Chrom charged back into the fray, and I joined him. We both struck at Grima, our swords clashing against Grima's armor again and again. Each time he deflected a blow, he became more and more sluggish, allowing us more free hits the longer the fight continued.

"He's finished!" Chrom yelled. "Stand back, Robin! I'll end him!"

I couldn't look at him. Dilemma. Now or never.

I made my choice.

"I'm sorry, Chrom!" I said, and stepped aside.

Grima cackled. "YOU'RE OPEN!" he roared, and lashed out with his magic.

"Robin?! Wait, what—" Chrom exclaimed, shocked, and the dark wave struck him. He grunted as the impact threw him off his feet and away.

I slipped back in to the fight. "Now you are," I hissed, and slashed upward, cutting through Grima's flesh and knocking the doppelganger down.

I panted, looking down at myself. Grima groaned, coughing purple blood onto his robes; he couldn't stand. I clutched Tyrfing tightly.

"R-Robin!"

I glanced over my shoulder at Chrom. He supported himself with the Falchion, trying to get back to his feet. "Robin, don't do it!" he pleaded. "You don't have to die!"

I looked back at Grima. My doppelganger could barely move, clutching at his wound and wincing. The dragon's wings flapped sluggishly and asynchronously, starting to lose altitude.

I turned back to Chrom. "How unbelievably selfish of me it would be," I said calmly, "to have the power to end this cycle once and for all, and to squander it." I shook my head. "Even if there weren't that tiny chance of my survival, I would still do this. It would be worth it, for the good of everyone." I looked at the ground. "I wouldn't wish another conflict of this sort on anyone. Not my descendants. Not their descendants. It all has to end." I looked up to Chrom. "People like Lucina wouldn't have to live without their families. People like me wouldn't have to fight their fate, tooth and nail. People like Morgan wouldn't have to die."

Chrom propped himself up to his feet on the Falchion. "Y-You can't! You promised, Robin. You gave me your word!" He struggled forward, fueled by his determination. "Stop this now! That's an order!"

I smiled, closing my eyes. "Lissa asked me… when does my watch end? How can I protect everyone? Well," I raised Tyrfing, "this is the answer to both!" I faced Grima. "For once, I am glad you and I are the same, Grima! Now I can give my life to protect those I care for!"

"YOU—WOULDN'T—DARE!" Grima screamed.

"I would and I will," I said coolly. "We meet our fates here, Grima. Together."

I plunged the Tyrfing into Grima's chest.

Grima wailed a dying scream, fading into nothingness. The dragon's head lurched, screeching.

I winced, the pain of a sword wound edging into my chest. I collapsed, hardly able to breathe.

I looked around, watching the Risen everywhere burst into dead smoke. The Shepherds still brandished their weapons, confused, before turning to face me.

Chrom knelt over me, grasping my hand. "Robin!" he choked, fighting tears. "Ah, gods, no! Why?! Why would you—?"

"C-Chrom," I coughed. "Thanks… for everything. Tell the others… Tell the others my last thoughts were of them." I lay back. "I hope we meet again… in this world, or the next…"

"Robin!" He clutched my hand with both of his. "Stay with me, Robin! You'll be—It's going to be okay!"

"Please, Chrom." I pushed him away feebly. "Don't… Don't grieve." I looked at the sky, smiling. "It is going to be okay, now."

I saw her smiling face. "It's been a while, Dad! We have SO much catching up to do!"

"I'm ready," I whispered. "It is… really over."

I closed my eyes.

I keep staring at this story like it's unfinished, but I can't find the problem my subconscious is looking for, so I'm gonna go ahead and upload it. No sense in letting it sit on my hard drive forever if I don't even know what the problem is.

(Seems like perfectionism is a recurring theme with my works, huh? Wonder where it comes from...)