To all of the readers of "Noble Curse", I apologize for this brief interlude. I needed to get it off my plate before I wrote the next chapter. This is a scene that's been bothering me ever since I first played Awakening, and I had to put it down in some way. Usual disclaimers apply; please enjoy!
All in all, Lucina was tired.
She'd been training nearly all day with Kjelle. As Grima's strength grew, the Risen, too, grew stronger. Knowing this, Lucina had pressed Kjelle to help her with one of the knight's training regimens. Admittedly one of the, how would one put it, less severe regimens, but a grueling one nonetheless.
Lucina herself was physically exhausted, but discounting some soreness in her muscles, she was none the worse for wear from it. Her surroundings and her partner, on the other hand, clearly showed signs of her work. Falchion, blessedly indestructible, remained unscarred. However, the princess had obliterated sixteen training dummies, put holes in two walls, scratched Kjelle's favorite armor, inadvertently cut several bundles of firewood, and nearly put the taguel to extinction. Needless to say, Kjelle would probably never agree to spar with her again, and Yarne for his part would never offer. Not that, Lucina reminded herself, he would have anyway.
Stretching her hands above her head, Lucina decided that, all things considered, it had been a pretty good day. She giggled out loud. Chrom had promised to practice with her tomorrow, and she had a couple of new moves to show him. Wouldn't he be impressed? Also, she had a shopping date with her mother whenever they next hit town. Lucina remembered a pink dress she had seen last time she'd been shopping: it had pink chiffon sleeves that ballooned out on either side and a bright green and black striped body that was covered in sparkles. She hoped she would see something similar in the next town: it would, she thought, look stunning on mother.
The more Lucina thought about things, sparring accidents or no, life seemed ideal. As she walked back to her tent, she couldn't help but feel that, in spite of the constant need to train and move, her world was clicking into place. Everything was somehow as it should be.
"Going to get some rest?"
Lucina looked away from the sky to see Robin. The princess smiled. "Yes. I'm bone tired. What about you?"
"Frederick has a roaring fire going already," the strategist replied. "The nights get so chilly now. I wonder if it has something to do with Grima." Robin's face contorted in pain, but the expression was gone before Lucina could reach out a hand for comfort. "Oof. Headaches. Don't worry about me; I've got tea for that. In fact, I was planning on setting up a kettle over Frederick's fire. Do you think he'll mind?"
"Not at all!" Lucina said. "He'll just be glad to be of some assistance. You know how he is."
"Of course. He's always so helpful. He bleeds himself dry and then some for us, and all we can do is thank him. I feel bad for him, but I'm worried I'll offend him if I try to do something to help."
"Don't feel bad. He wouldn't have it any other way. Although, if you're having a hard time thinking of something, why don't you try brewing him some of your tea?" Lucina suggested. "If it helps your headaches, it might help him relax."
"Naga knows he needs some relaxation!" Robin said with a grin. "That's a good idea. It's decided: I'll make him a brew he won't soon forget! See you later!"
The strategist walked away, kettle in hand, leaving Lucina alone with a smile. Robin was such an odd duck. The princess only hoped that the "brew" Robin was talking about wouldn't do anything unusual to the knight.
Carrying along on her way, Lucina whistled to herself. It was a tune she'd picked up from Brady back in the old times. He'd still had his mother's violin then, before it was snapped in two in a battle, and he'd compose tunes sometimes to help alleviate the constant tension. He said that music and art were always important, but in times of darkness they were especially so, or at least, that's what his mother had said.
Lucina laughed to herself. At that moment, the memory wasn't painful, even as the Brady in her mind cried when he spoke. It seemed to belong to another time-it did belong somewhere else. It wasn't here.
Or was it? Lucina stopped short, listening. While she wanted nothing more than to go to her tent, kick off her boots, and massage her sore feet, she thought that she heard something. Her eyes scanned the tents. There was hers, right next to her father's, and beside it, Robin's. Lucina's eyes narrowed. She was definitely hearing something, and Robin's tent was lit up.
Lucina checked behind her and saw no one. The strategist had never passed her on the way back, either, so whomever or whatever was in that tent making that odd, quiet noise, it wasn't the absent-minded strategist. Lucina's mind settled on one word: intruder.
Curious and not a little wary, Lucina approached the illuminated tent. The light inside was flickering but unmoving: a solitary candle had apparently been lit and set down somewhere. Lucina remained quiet, stashing herself such that, from the inside, her shadow could not bee seen. Kneeling on the ground, she listened.
At first, there was no sound. Lucina frowned. Had she been imagining a sound? Had Robin made a gargantuan mistake and left a candle burning unobserved in a field of cloth tents? Lucina was prepared to accept that errors had been made, but a small sound much like the ones she had heard before changed her mind. No, she was not imagining it. No, Robin had not left the candle burning. Someone was in there.
It was not a loud noise by any stretch of the imagination, but it was heavy and painful. Brady cradling his mother's violin as he spoke of his mother came to mind, and this time, Lucina felt it in her chest. There was another sound, and another, and another. The young princess felt her good mood draining away. She knew these sounds. She'd heard them so often before, in her old world, that they'd been ingrained in her memory. Lucina had hoped beyond hope that she would never have to hear them voiced again.
Tears. Someone was doing his or her best to keep in heartfelt cries.
Lucina rose from the dirt and brushed the grime from her shinguards. A sense of obligation, perhaps because she felt she had been eavesdropping, made her go to the mouth of the tent. She lifted the flap and peered in.
Mismatched blue eyes met with green ones. Lucina froze, the tent flap now weightless in her hand. She felt as if she were intruding on something sacred, something holy. A ritual was taking place that was not meant for the eyes of anyone but the participants. At least, by no one of this time.
Tiki, for her part, played off the intrusion as best as she could. She dried her eyes with a finger and rose from Robin's desk. She paused as she passed Lucina, then walked away, her boots stirring the dry dirt on the ground. She spoke not a word.
Lucina remained where she was several moments after Tiki's departure. The princess knew that as soon as she walked into the space, the feeling inside would change. The holiness, the nostalgia that Tiki's presence had gathered, would dissipate. Lucina breathed it in. It felt like all of the sadness of the old world, and something much, much older, had been mixed up with the present.
The princess stepped into the tent, allowing the flap to shut behind her.
Robin's belongings were sparse but organized. There was a desk in the middle of the tent, apparently collapsable for the purposes of moving at a moment's notice, and a cot off to the side. A few books were stacked here and there, and a sword was propped against one of the tent poles. Aside from that, there was next to nothing.
Lucina approached the candle. It had been set up on the desk, and judging by the length of the taper, it hadn't been burning for long. There were plenty of papers and battle strategies strewn about, all penned by Robin. Only one thing seemed out of place.
There was a card. Not just any card, either. Lucina recognized the distinct size and weight as one of those that Chrom had won in the Outrealms. Robin carried them in battles and sometimes summoned allies if the outcome of the fight looked bleak. The princess flipped the card over without thinking and, at that moment, she understood. The weight of the knowledge slid down her throat and hit her square in the gut. She sat down, her eyes locked on the matching eyes of the card.
If was, of course, the card of Marth. Underneath his image, the words, "Hero-King," had been printed. Lucina felt shame bubbling up within her. She remembered when Tiki had awoken for the first time and mistaken her for her Marth, only to be sadly disappointed.
Lucina had seen exactly what the card could do. The illusion that it summoned of Marth was incredible and produced a skilled fighter to aid their cause. Of course, without the summon, the figure on the card was lifeless. Summoned, it was only a reflection; not summoned, it was a mere drawing.
The princess put the card, face down, back on the desk. She thought of Tiki and her "Mar-Mar" and of losing loved ones. Her thoughts hurt her head.
"Lucina?"
The princess jerked in place. Robin had a certain way with timing.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I-"
"What's going on?" Robin demanded. "Is everything all right?"
"I… I don't know," Lucina said. She thought for a second, then picked up the card. "Lady Tiki was in here earlier. I think this is why."
Robin stepped to meet Lucina at the desk and examined the card. The strategist's face registered understanding. "Ah. I see. I knew I should have kept these with me. I had thought that this might cause a problem. That's why I haven't deployed him much as of late, you see." Robin took the card from Lucina and pocketed it. "I noticed the effect it had on Tiki, of course."
"Of course," Lucina said, feeling shaky. The princess didn't think she could stand, she felt so sick. She knew exactly how Tiki must have felt as she looked at the card that represented her only portal to her loved ones, forged though it was: displaced in time, only gone forward instead of backward. Everything was wrong, everything was out of order-seeing Tiki with the card had made her realize just how far afield she was.
"Lucina?" Robin asked again. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"No," Lucina replied. "I'm not, nothing is, it's all wrong!" She was fully prepared to explain everything, to put it all out there, but she was silenced, not by a hand or by words, but by the one gesture she did not expect from the strategist: a hug.
Robin was embracing her. The strategist had a strong pair of arms, or maybe Lucina was just exhausted from a long, hard day. Either way, she found that she couldn't move. Instead, she leaned into the hug. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind: Robin could very well be an enemy in disguise, as the future had shown her; she hadn't been hugged in so long; she wanted comfort; she craved something.
"It will be all right," Robin said, stroking her back. "I promise you. Everything will be all right."
"I feel bad for Lady Tiki," Lucina said.
"I do, too," Robin responded, holding her tightly. "Marth is long gone now. We're the only ones here for Tiki now."
Lucina nodded against Robin's chest. After another minute, the pair pulled apart.
"You should get some rest, Lucina," Robin said. "Go lay down."
Lucina shook her head. "Wait," she said. "Wait."
"What?"
The princess pretended to fold her arms while hugging herself. "Is my father still at the fire?"
"Yes, of course," Robin said, watching her. "Most of the Shepherds are still out, too. I only came back for a moment because Miriel wanted to borrow one of my texts."
"I don't want to be alone." The words were out of her mouth before Lucina could suppress them. They were the entire, undeniable truth.
Robin picked up a book from the corner and extended a free hand. "Come on, then. It looks like we all could use another cup of tea."
Lucina accepted the hand. "What about Lady Tiki?"
The strategist led her out of the tent, blowing out the candle along the way. "She'll come around eventually. No one can live in the past forever."
"Even if the past is the future?" Lucina joked.
"Especially if. That's not the future anymore, Lady Lucina," Robin said, lips tight over white teeth. "You have friends here and now. You mourn for your past and all you'll do is lose all you have here today in the present."
Lucina agreed. She allowed herself a tiny smile, her hand clasped firmly in Robin's as they headed toward the fire. Maybe everything wasn't all right, but it wasn't all wrong, either. The sound of laughter drifted to her ears. Kjelle and Yarne greeted her, her father smiled at her, and Robin brewed her a cup of tea. This was it: the present. This was what was worth fighting for. Lucina's smile widened as she warmed to the company. She would fight for them all, for the future yet unwritten. She would not fail.