sortition: deciding by lot; toss-up, Fate, Destiny, allotment
it would be easier if he didn't know why she'd done it.
Children go through early life believing in the comforting notion that their parents are immortal; that they'll be around forever. Children also start out under the assumption that they will be loved, cherished, and treated kindly by their parents.
Chrom thinks about this while he stares at his father's grave.
His father's grave, because while Chrom loved his mother, he knew his father better. Not to say this was a good thing, of course, because he had crushed the latter childhood belief- no, not crushed. It had been slow, like melting wax, the way the dream of a father whose eyes were not quite so distant had vanished.
He used to ruffle Chrom's hair and call him by his name, and that alone had kept the hope alive until Lissa was born, blonde and healthy and perfect but for one thing.
She lacked the mark.
That was when their mother had died, and their father became closed off. Lissa was handed over to wet-nurses, and Emmeryn brought Chrom in by the hand and whispered that now he had a sibling to protect with all his strength. Chrom had liked that- the idea of protecting someone, the way his father should have done.
The way Emmeryn always had.
2 years later, Chrom held Lissa by the hand that wasn't in her mouth at the funeral, squeezing it as their father was placed in the ground next to the mother they'd barely known, even though he knew she didn't understand- he wasn't sure he did, either.
Parents weren't immortal, and they didn't always love you. Chrom learned that young-too young. But even after life had betrayed him so heavily, he knew that Emmeryn, at least, would always be there.
fati crudelis est.
Time had never moved so slowly, when she fell, and Chrom cursed it over and over even as he ran, feeling like he was being pushed back by some invisible second Emmeryn had put her hands together as if in prayer, his heart dropped to his feet- maybe that was why they felt like lead. She leaned forward and he knew, damnit, he knew why she was smiling even as she plummeted towards the dusty earth.
She was still trying to protect him.
It would be easier, Chrom had thought as he stared blankly at the grave, if he didn't know why she'd done it. Lissa knew it too- he'd been able tell by looking at her face, and he wondered how he could continue to protect her when he knew he wasn't as strong as Emmeryn had been. He would lay his life down for her and Ylisse in an instant, but somehow the idea of such a sacrifice no longer seemed as selfless as Emmeryn's. It's the same thing, his consciousness whispered, but he was aware that no matter what he would feel like he was failing both his sisters.
He moved away from his father's grave- too much bad energy- and drifted vaguely towards the courtyard. He wasn't sure what his destination was until he reached it, and the impressive golden statue of his martyred sister with its arms spread in a peaceful gesture gleamed with newness. Chrom's eyes slid downwards, to the inscription on the base, and a strong something bloomed in his chest.
dabo pacem in omnibus
dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
Peace to all, Chrom whispered to , he'd often wondered if such a thing was really possible, but Emmeryn had believed in it so strongly that he knew it must be. All that was left was for him to believe he could achieve it.