Preface:

Hello. This is a crossover story between Final Fantasy VII and Fire Emblem: Awakening. The story follows heavily onto the plot-line of Fire Emblem: Awakening, with borrowed elements and characters from Final Fantasy VII. This is the Rising Again: Complete edition for the 5th anniversary of the story's creation. If you do not care for the changes made, please skip ahead.

Update 1: Happy 5 Year Anniversary. For the Rising Again: Complete edition, several changes have been made. The foremost of changes was revising language and dialogue issues, as well as tweaking the general pace of the story. There was slight edits some characterizations to better fit the character's personality. Finally, the Avatar's name was reverted back to Robin for continuity. The Epilogue chapter was revised with an afterword as well.

Update 2: Revised one last time. One additional extra chapter was added. Thank you for your continued support.

And without further ado, the story.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Final Fantasy VII nor Fire Emblem: Awakening.


Chapter 1: Prologue


Such a nice smell.

The fragrance of spring seasonal flowers filled the air of the church, which contrasted the murky polluted air of the Sector 6 slums. He hated it. It's not that he hated the smell per se, rather, the pleasant scent reminded him of some bitter-sweet memories. Memories of a cheery flower girl, a victim in a cruel fate. Memories of a flower girl who is now gone.

The only thing left of this certain late flower girl was a stave with a shining gold butterfly at its end, the Princess Guard, and her iconic pink ribbon, both of which were placed on the flower bed of the church in front of a picture of their date at the Golden Saucer those few years ago.

It was a surreal sort of emptiness that he felt. A moment so perfectly etched into his mind, yet was still a distant but desirable past.

And of course, "he" was Cloud Strife, Ex-SOLDIER of the Shin-Ra and Protector of the Lifestream, many had called him. His discarded and forgotten dream came true, yet it sickened him because it reminded him of his youthful naivety.

Cloud routinely made the trip from Edge to visit the old, run-down Sector 5 church every weekend, taking it upon himself to care for the flowers while she was gone.

But no one is really gone, right? Wishful thinking, but it helped him cope with the slow drawl that had became of his life. Purposeless and meaningless, Cloud could find comfort in his uncharacteristic hobby of gardening.

The serene mood of his humble sanctuary was rudely interrupted with booming thunder. He cocked his head up and stared at the open doorway, displeased that he was interrupted from his own world and dragged back out to the harsh reality.

'A thunderstorm in outer-Midgar?' Cloud thought. He could stay the night; he has, after all, done it many, many times before. However Cloud simply didn't have the luxury of only caring for himself anymore. Things had changed for better or for worse, and there would be people he would be leaving behind. Or rather, would it be them leaving him behind?

Cloud sighed as he exited the church and rode his Fenrir toward the outskirts of Midgar, realizing that he needed to leave quickly if he was to beat the storm.

However, only after leaving the Sector did Cloud realize that a raging tempest had formed. It violently swirled like a pillar of wind into the sky, destroying the ground it trod upon.

And there was another peculiarity Cloud noticed: A clear ray of light shined through the center of the tornado, revealing a barely visible, angelic figure. Its long hair flowed gently in the wind, as it walked forward, seemingly guiding the tornado with its very presence.

'No.'

Cloud made a hard right, drifting across the mud before maxing out the throttle. Cloud raced to the center of the storm, directly at the figure who was facing away from him, walking away ever so slowly.

As each second passed, Cloud gripped tighter and tighter to the handles of his bike. He was beginning to lose his senses. His vision began to blur and his ears ringing from the deafening roar from the tornado. Despite the danger, he still drove directly into the whirlwind, using all of his strength to keep the bike grounded, until the very ground he rode upon had been lifted from the storm.

Cloud quickly slid onto his side as an emergency break, and the Fenrir fell off the elevated chunk of landmass that began to spin in the air. He held onto the ground until it too crumbled from the violent swirling. He shut his eyes to weaken his urge to vomit from the motion sickness.

Everything around him finally began to fade as the storm seemingly subsided.

And so his eyes slowly drifted to a close.


A small party of four patiently followed the dirt path until the youngest of them, a girl in a worn yellow dress, stopped to complain.

"It's too HOT!" She screamed, stomping her leather boots on the dirt. "And I have blisters on my feet forming faster than worms after heavy rain!" Her brother merely rolled his eyes and the white-haired newcomer couldn't hold back his chuckling. Only the knight attempted to give the Ylissian princess a pep talk.

"It could be worse, milady." He tried. "This is naught but a healthy little stroll! The hardships you endure will forge your character, and this is no exception."

"I don't see you walking, Frederick! All you do is prance around on your horse. You rarely go anywhere on your own two feet anymore."

"Err. My armor is much too heavy to continuously walk." Frederick tried. "I might injure my back from walking around for extended periods of time, and besides, it gets tiring very quickly."

Lissa didn't look too convinced by Frederick's argument.

"Suuuurrreee..."

"Everyone! We're almost there!" Her brother interrupted, who had already headed up the grassy hill. "Ylisstol is up ahead."

"Let us go, milady. Your sister is waiting for your arrival." reminded Frederick, which caused Lissa's complaints to cease. She was fired up with newfound excitement and hurried to the castle, ahead of her companions.

At last the group had reached the castle town. Although the market was bustling with people, they had made way for the four of them, whispering regarding the prince's return. It was typical of the visits back to Ylisstol, and they paid no mind to it. When they reached the grand door of the Ylissian Castle, Lissa's eyes were on verge of tears from the pain, but the thought of seeing her sister kept the waterworks from flowing.

"BIG SIS!" Lissa squealed, her mood instantly changing as she ran to the Exalt and embracing her.

"Welcome back, Lissa!" Emmeryn greeted with her perfect warm smile. "And to you to, Chrom." She added as he finally made his way up the steps.

Emmeryn was universally loved for her undeniably attractive features and her even more attractive loving personality. Her very existence was an enigma of peace. Her eyes trailed toward a stranger standing near her brother. He wore a black robe with a purple lining and golden ribbons across the chest and at the cuffs of his sleeves. Underneath he wore a simple white tunic and trousers tucked into tanned leather boots. Surely, this man wasn't Ylissian. His clothes were far too bizarre, and the aura he emitted felt just as foreign.

Noticing that she was staring at him, he politely removed his hood, revealing a young man with an unusual silvery hair. He kept it a bit long, but not unruly, and the wind gently swept it aside revealing his dark grey iris. His face was noticeably soft, she felt no hostility from the man, despite his unorthodox appearance.

"You must be Robin." She smiled. "I have heard many great things from Chrom about your strategic talent."

"Milady." Robin immediately fell to one knee and bowed his head. Emmeryn giggled.

"You have been around Chrom and Lissa for quite some time now, haven't you? Did you not noticed how our family isn't much for etiquette around royalty?" Robin rose back onto his feet before profusely apologizing.

"You're right, I apologize. This is just my first time in the presence of Her Excellency."

"It's quite alright. You need not apologize for your good manners." Her eyes trailed toward the steps to the castle where the rest of the Shepherds had gathered. Emmeryn's eyes seemed to brim with excitement. "Now then, everyone, please get washed up. I will arrange a feast!"

The feast served many Ylissian delicacies unknown to Robin which he found delicious nonetheless. When they had finished their meal, many Shepherds decided to relax in the common room. Chrom, however, chose instead to go for a stroll in a familiar place where he had spent countless hours during his youth: the Royal Garden. Robin noticed that Chrom had quietly departed, and followed him on his walk.

"Chrom? What are you doing out so late?" He asked. Chrom stopped, before turning to face his tactician.

"Oh, hi, Robin. Just… dueling with some unpleasant thoughts…" Chrom offered a weak smile. "Tomorrow we march to Regna Ferox to request additional soldiers. But there's something you should know first."

Chrom took a deep breath.

"…Not everything Gangrel said was a lie. The last exalt, my father, waged war on Plegia for many years. The violence… it was a brutal campaign, ending only with his death 15 years ago. Plegia rightfully remembers their suffering, but his war was no kinder to his own people. As the fighting dragged on, our army became more and more diminished. Farmers who could barely wield a pitchfork were conscripted and sent to their deaths. Soon there was no food at all, and the kingdom began to collapse. I was young, but I remember those dark times... I know how they affected Emmeryn."

"Such an experience would change anyone." Robin commented.

"Indeed." Chrom nodded his head morosely. "When our father died before her tenth year, he left her quite the legacy. Plegia's desire for vengeance... Our own people's unbridled rage... My sister became a target for blame from all sides. Her own subjects began to hurl insults— and stones." Chrom clenched his fist in anger, but then his grip softened, remembering his sister's kind response. "She still bears the scar from one... But she never let them see her pain. Only Lissa and I understood."

"It must have been so hard…"

"I cannot claim to know how she does it, Robin. I could never greet such hostility with warmth and patience. While our people mocked and vilified her, she reached out and healed them. She brought soldiers home to their families. She ended the war. And when Ylisse's spirit was mended and the people 'forgave' her? ...She never resented them for it. She represents the best of the halidom—the part most worth protecting. She IS peace. But some men would take advantage of that. Men like King Gangrel. The day he understands peace will be the day death gives it to him. ...So perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to."

"Well spoken, sir." A voice interrupted. It was a familiar one, however, and a blue-haired man emerged from the garden's shadows to join their conversation.

"Marth?" Robin observed the mysterious man who they had met only days before. He still wore the Falchion around his waist scabbard, which signified it truly was the man they had fought in Regna Ferox.

"Good evening, Marth." Chrom began. "I did not expect to see you here. Did you need something?" Marth seemingly ignored his question, leaving the garden with complete silence, save for the soft sounds of the wind and the distant conversations from within the castle.

After what seemed like an hour of stillness, Marth drew his sword. Realizing the threat, Chrom and Robin drew their weapons too, yet in disbelief that the man would dare to attack Chrom in the middle of the night within his own castle.

"I'm about to save your life." He announced. "…From him."

Their was a brief rustling in the bushes, which then revealed an assassin charging at Chrom. Marth threw his sword upward and back-flipped, catching the sword before landing and slicing the assassin vertically on his back. He dropped to the ground motionless as Chrom and Robin stared in awe.

"I trust this proof shoud suffice?" Marth asked, seemingly nonchalant.

"Yeah." Chrom nodded his head slowly.

As Robin silently weighed the possibility of Marth being a psychic, another assassin emerged from the shadows, this time completely catching Marth off-guard. As the assassin slashed at him, Marth attempted to sidestep the assassin's attack, but slipped on the dropped blade of the fallen first assassin. A rookie mistake! He lacked the situational awareness of his surroundings and frantically tried to regain footing.

Too late. The assassin slashed downward aiming for Marth's head. However, as if he was blessed with the luck of Gods, as he slipped backwards, the blade's tip merely sliced Marth's mask in half. As the two halves fell to the ground, it let down the hair he kept up and revealed a… surprisingly feminine face. Robin slid across the grass to catch the falling Marth, and Chrom used the opportunity to quickly slash the second assassin across his chest, before turning to gaze at Marth.

"You're... a woman?" Robin realized once he was holding her.

"And quite the actress, too. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out until just now." She teased. He had no response. How did he not realize this sooner? It should have been obvious from her figure, and her form, albeit a very ambiguous voice.

Marth cleared her throat, a subtle hint to bring him back down to earth. There was still no response. He continued to stare at the girl until it became awkward enough that she needed to turn away to hide her blush.

"Robin." Chrom interrupted. This time, it processed in his brain, a bit too suddenly perhaps, and he dropped her out of surprise, before frantically apologizing as he helped her back to her feet.

As if to break the painfully awkward situation, an explosion was heard in the distance, coming from the entrance of the castle. Belligerents stormed in through the front door and flooded the foyer, just as she had predicted. Chrom looked at Robin who nodded in response, then the trio ran to Emmeryn's aid.

'Seriously? A girl?'Robin muttered quietly to himself.