A/N: I've been reading so many awesome fics lately that I figured I'd finally contribute back to the community. Let me know how you think I did!

The cheery sunlight was at odds with the confrontation brewing on the open plains of Ylisse.

"Sorry, mom," I firmed my stance beside her, thunder tome at the ready. "The only way I'm going anywhere is if you lead the way."

Mother's answering glare could have cowed a brick wall, but I'd built up too much of a tolerance over the years for it to really phase me. I could see the arguments flashing through her mind, considered and discarded as she tried to figure out the best way to convince me to run.

"Southtown can't be more than a few miles away," she tried. "Go and get help. I can stall for as long as needed."

"The Ylisseans won't follow a Plegian at her word," I countered. "Not with all the recent 'bandit' attacks. It'd take a few hours, best-case scenario, by which time this would be long resolved. And there's only one enemy. And, if our last encounter was anything to go by, Validar still wants me alive. We can exploit that again." Well, hopefully. I glanced at the shadowy being across from us, but whether or not it understood me, it did not react.

Mother shook her head. "Human enemies," she said briskly. "I doubt the same tricks will work on this… dark magic construct." I gave her my best stubborn face in reply. Mother's glare intensified. "Don't give me that look, young lady! You've always trusted my judgement before. You promised to obey me when it came to Plegian matters. Are you going to go back on your word?"

"Yes, I am," I replied coolly. "Unless you give me an actual reason to abandon you here. I'm not a little girl anymore, mom. You always make me your top priority, but maybe you should consider the fact that you're my top priority."

Mother's frown disappeared, and she sighed. "Stubborn girl. Please, Robin, just listen to me this one time. I have a bad feeling about this."

Her tone gave me pause. Was that a hint of fear in her voice? Mother was usually calculating, controlled. If she were actually afraid of something... were we actually in that much danger? Or was it just a ploy on her part? I couldn't tell.

The shadow was silent and still, watching our argument. I could feel the pressure of its eyes on me through the inky darkness that drifted away from its body. I ignored the feeling as best as I could. If it wasn't going to attack us straight-out, that was fine by me.

"I know how to fight safely," I said slowly. "You know that. I can improve your odds of winning without becoming a liability. If you really want me to run... the only reason I can think of is self-sacrifice. Are you expecting to lose this fight?"

Mother looked exasperated, but I never got to find out how she was going to reply because shadow finally decided to step forward.

"Why do you assume I'm hostile?"

A distinctly female voice, with a soft echo to her words. You'd think we were in caverns instead of open plains. "I'm actually quite willing to have a civil conversation."

"So you can speak?" Mother snorted, cradling her Thoron tome in her left hand. "It may interest you to know that jumping out of an eye in the sky and burning a smoking hole into the ground isn't how most people start off peaceful conversations."

"Heck, it's not something most people do, period," I added thoughtfully.

"Not to mention the whole aura of darkness," mother finished. "It doesn't exactly scream good intentions to me."

"Sorry about that," the shadow shrugged, without really sounding apologetic. She seem relaxed, but I kept my guard up. This whole setup reeked of Validar.

Then the darkness around her dissipated, carried away by the gentle winds.

"Is that better?"

My eyes widened in alarm, and I could see mother stiffen out of the corner of my eye. Was that... me?

No, the woman standing across from us wasn't my exact copy. She had my build and features, but she looked a few years older than I was. Her silvery hair matched my own, now that I'd run out of dye, down to the twin ponytails.

And those eyes... they were a solid black, and for a moment I almost wished the darkness were back so I wouldn't have to look at them. There was something inherently unsettling about them.

"Much better, thanks." Mother's smile didn't reach her eyes. If she was as alarmed as I was, she was hiding it well. "Let's talk, then."

"Why don't you introduce yourself, first?" I asked. Naga be praised, my voice didn't waver. "Do we have a long-lost relative we didn't know about?" The second question was partly directed at mother, who shook her head minutely.

My doppelganger laughed. "I suppose you could put it that way," she said. "I'm you, Robin."

I glanced at mother again, but her expression was inscrutable. "I don't blame you for wanting to be me, all things considered," I said as cheerfully as I could manage, "but I'm rather confident that I'm me. You could've tried to pass as an older sister, though."

The woman simply shook her head, looking bemused, and mother took the opportunity to make a quick gesture. Run, she signalled. I ignored her.

"I'll give you points for quality, of course," I complimented her. "That's one effective disguise. The whole cloak of darkness thing was kind of cliché, but I'm willing to toss in some bonus points for style." Mother let out a quiet groan, and I thought that if the situation hadn't been so serious she might have face-palmed. "But I think we'd all appreciate some real-talk for a second," I finished, gripping my tome tightly. "Who are you, really?"

My look-alike was grinning. If it weren't for her hollow eyes, it might've even looked friendly. "Really, I'm hurt that you can't take me at my word. I'm you, Robin."

Dead end. No useful information here. "What do you want?" I tried instead.

My clone's smile grew. Nope, still not comforting. "A better question. What I want, my dear Robin, is for you," she pointed with a finger, "to grow up and start fulfilling your destiny."

Mother's face hardened. Aaaand there goes any chance of this ending without a fight. "Great," I said. "So you want me to go back to Plegia like a good little Vessel, is that it?" I edged back to stand a bit behind mother. I could feel the enemy's magic; it probably wouldn't be best to take point against an opponent like this.

The woman clucked and shook her fingers at me as if I was a child. "Now now, dear Robin, there's no need to be so hostile," she admonished."I'm quite literally offering you Godhood."

"So were the last dozen bounty hunters, indirectly," mother noted dryly. "I'm not sure if you've figured it out yet, but we're not interested in dying for any of Validar's schemes."

"No schemes. No dying to trial-and-error. And I'm not here on Validar's behalf," she said the name with clear distaste. "I'm offering you Godhood right here and now."

"Well, that's new," I commented after a moment. "You can do the ritual without the Dragon's Table? That doesn't change anything, you know. Everyone that's tried to become Grima's Vessel has died. It's kind of an obvious pattern at this point."

"Ah, but I can guarantee your success," the woman claimed. "After all, you were an exceptional vessel back in my timeline."

... So that's what people mean when they say they can feel ice in their veins. I saw mother clench her Thoron tome a bit tighter.

"What in the seven hells are you talking about?" I wasn't successful at keeping the waver out of my voice this time.

"I'd think my implications were obvious when I said 'timeline'. But if you need me to spell it out for you..." she let out a put-upon sigh. "I'm saying that I'm you, from the future."

She said it so calmly, too, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

"It's a pleasure to meet me," the woman continued with a shallow bow. "Now, I'll really be disappointed if you get this wrong. Have you figured out my true name yet?"

I was acutely aware of the thrumming of magic in the air, thick and suffocating. There was really only one conclusion.

"Grima," I breathed. It was half an answer, and half a question to mother. Is it possible?

"Indeed."

"You're insane," mother said flatly. "I don't know how you found us, but the future? Is that the best cover story Validar could come up with?"

"It was the work of Naga. She's got a thing for gimmicks that involve time," Possibly-Grima explained. "They'll avail her nothing in the end, of course. But if my appearance and word aren't enough proof, perhaps this would do the trick?" She raised her finger, and I saw it.

Mother's wedding ring. There was no mistaking the color of the scarlet emerald, even at a distance. Possibly-Grima tossed the ring carelessly towards mother. We jumped back instinctively, ready for a trap, but nothing happened. She waved her hand at us, inviting us to look. "Well?"

Mother didn't bother to draw her own ring from within her robes to compare. "A ring? You think that would suffice as proof of time travel?" she asked, incredulous. "The Hierophantess' ring can be duplicated, especially with Validar's resources."

Possibly-Grima frowned but did not reply.

I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was a clear opportunity to dig for information. "Here's a better test, if you're really me from the future. What did Mother give me for my sixth and seventh birthdays?" I couldn't imagine Validar or any of his spies knowing something so obscure.

She was silent for almost a minute before she spoke. "If you insist, dear Robin. 'Battlefield Tactics for Dummies' for your sixth, and her own steel dagger for your seventh."

Well, damn. The dagger in question suddenly felt heavier inside the concealed pocket of my coat. If this really was Grima and she had my old memories, than all of mother's pre-set combat formations were useless. Mother must have come to the same conclusion; I saw her eyes narrow and lips purse the way they always did when she was forecasting possible combat plans.

There was a lull in the conversation. "I didn't expect to appear in this timeline right in front of you," Probably-Grima noted eventually, "A quirk of Naga's abilities, perhaps. But with both of us here, there's no reason we can't begin our reign now."

"Our reign?" I repeated blankly.

She smirked. "Yes. Where, or rather when I come from, the world was ours."

Well, that was ominous. "Let's say I believe you," I started, "and I'm not saying I do." I wasn't sure what to believe, yet. I needed to feel this out some more and look for inconsistencies. "If you're truly Grima from the future, then you have my future self as a Vessel. Anyone could feel the power rolling off you. What do you need me for? You're already complete!"

Grima's smirk disappeared. "No."

"No?" I asked.

"No. I'm stronger than any mortal now, but our old power was absolute." Absolute? Grima clearly didn't care about quantifying. "Naga's gate was not meant for me, and I've lost strength. I'm sure you know what I'm about to offer."

"I'm sure you know my answer," I said. "Absolute power isn't really my thing."

"Hah. Absolute power isn't your... thing," Grima quirked an eyebrow. When she spoke again, her voice was unusually quiet.

"But don't you hate it?" she asked eventually."I won't claim I truly understood them, but I at least remember your emotions, back when we first merged. You're sick of being hunted like a dog, aren't you? Never allowed to settle and make friends. Always having to sleep with one eye open because you have a jackal for a father. I remember how angry you could be."

I don't think I was able to keep my expression as neutral as I wanted to, so denying it was out of the window. Blunt honesty, then.

"... Then you know that I hate you for making my childhood hell," I responded.

"Oh? By simply existing? I did not force your father to hunt you," Grima countered. "Let's pretend he pursued you because he wanted... oh, say, a gemstone of yours. Would you blame the gem for the resulting violence? Of course not. Validar made his choices himself, and I am no different from the gem."

"You're sentient," I argued back. "A gem couldn't influence anyone to chase after it. But you-"

"I was a shadow, barely aware of myself until I was first revived," Grima interrupted. "I suspect the same is true of the dormant Grima in this timeline. And even if it's not, I have literally done nothing to you outside of this conversation, since I did not exist in this world until minutes ago."

Right, time travel could mean multiple Grimas. Wonderful.

"I don't think it's occurred to you that you don't have to be afraid," Grima continued when I remained silent. "I'm not offering you magical tricks and toys. I'm offering you the power to protect your Mother. With my strength, you could crush Validar. I'm offering you the power of a God. Dearest Robin, what I'm offering you is freedom," she gestured magnanimously. "Freedom to break out of this stupid lifestyle you've been forced into, to change everything!"

"You have little to lose, and quite literally the entire world to gain."

… Cliché, but I'll admit it. My curiosity itched. What would Validar's expression be if I showed up in Plegia one day with all the powers of a God? My mind painted an image of the bane of my childhood, a towering brute of a devil-man with horns and red eyes, finally laid low at my feet.

I'd never be able to befriend anyone, of course, no matter what Grima implied. Not with a God's powers and an inclination to world domination. But to crush Validar once and for all, and to keep mother safe...

I knew mother would never be happy with safety at my expense. Our lives on the run for the last several years were evidence of that. Vengeance on Validar would be beautiful, but every story I'd ever heard about Gods depicted them as fickle beings. What would be the price of Grima's power?

The silence grew. Mother was the first to break it, turning her head slightly to glance at me.

"I don't trust her," she said to me simply, loud enough for Grima to hear.

"It," Grima said.

"Huh?" That was from both mother and myself.

"It, not her," she, ah, it clarified. It scowled at our blank expressions. "I am not female."

There was silence again for a moment.

"Apologies," Mother said eventually. She glanced at me again. "I don't trust it. It paints a pretty picture, but I'm not convinced about this whole time-travel thing."

"I've already answered Robin's questions about her past," Grima pointed out.

"A spy of Validar's could have deduced those answers," Mother replied smoothly. "Unlikely, but it's more much feasible than time travel."

What? I bit my tongue before I could point out that it was absurd that a spy would know of my birthday gifts for two subsequent years. Especially the dagger. If Validar had such access to such obscure information, then he'd certainly have known of my general location. In which case, he would've upped my bounty and drowned us with mercenaries. We wouldn't have lasted the year. He certainly wouldn't wait for a decade to use the information with a cover story as absurd as Grima's. Time-travel probably was more likely than that, now that we were dealing with Gods.

"You're well aware that Validar knows nothing of you two," Grima said impatiently. "He's kept a bounty out, but you killed anyone that actually discovered you before they could report to him. Good job on that, by the way."

... I waited for it to append the more obvious counterargument, but it seemed content with that answer.

"We have no way of confirming that we got every spy," Mother replied.

"... I suppose not," Grima said. "I presume you have another test in mind, then?"

I had to make an active effort to keep my face neutral. Did Grima actually accept such a flimsy retort?

Then I saw a flash of triumph in mother's eyes, and it became clear. This was what mother was after. A chance to see how much the creature in front of us was truly me.

"Yes. If you're truly my Robin from the future, then how about a puzzle?" mother asked.

Grima paused for a moment so brief I wouldn't have caught it if I hadn't been looking for it, but when it spoke there was no hesitation in its voice. "Fine."

"Excellent. Then…"