A/N: It's taken me a bit longer than I would've liked to get the next chapter of this story up, but I suppose I never promised a consistent updating schedule. I'm planning an actual full-length story for the previous chapter's Robin, but that won't be up until I'm a little less busy.

Speaking of which, I forgot to describe Robin's specifications last chapter. He is a male avatar with customizations 1-2-4-9-1 (build-eyes-hair style-hair color-voice).

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or anything else you may recognize.

!

Luka had been blessed with good luck for as long as he remembered.

As impressive as that statement may have sounded, Luka's memory up until nearly three years ago was but an empty void. Nearly three years since he had first met Chrom in that field and yet no hint, no sign, not even the faintest of clues about his past or the person he had once been.

But he had always considered himself lucky despite the loss of his memories – lucky that Chrom had been the one to find him and to take him in, lucky to have become part of the Shepherds, lucky to have directed his companions through two great wars without suffering a single casualty … lucky to have found great friends and the woman who would become his wife to give his suddenly purposeless life meaning.

It hadn't been a smooth journey, however, finding acceptance with the ragtag group of vigilantes who were Ylisse's only line of defense. The bonds between him and his closest friends – including his wife – had once been vitriolic on one or both ends. Luka could still remember his initial impressions of them clearly – he had thought Virion to be a fancy loudmouthed braggart, Frederick a high-strung control freak, Maribelle a condescending brat, and Chrom an idiot with no idea how to run a country. (Nobles … go figure.) He would never have believed them to be his staunchest allies of the Shepherds, and yet they were.

He lost his composure more often than was appropriate for the army's tactician. While Luka had never slipped into full-blown panic during either of the Shepherds' campaigns, it was often Chrom or Frederick or Virion – even the shy and ever-fretting Olivia in one instance – who had to bring him to his senses. Considering the number of times he had panicked on the battlefield, it was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to give sensible orders that kept all of the Shepherds alive. No, it wasn't a miracle – it was luck, so fickle and unpredictable, never knowing which way it would turn and who it would favor –

Luka was staring down the blade of his future daughter-in-law. It appeared as if his luck had finally run out.

"Lucina," he began, marveling at how calm his voice sounded even with a sword pointed at his face, "what is the meaning of this?"

"Stay where you are, Luka!" she shouted. Her face was twisted into a grimace, her grip on her sword unsteady. Falchion had never before felt so heavy. "I have no choice. I must kill you."

It took a few seconds for her words to register in his mind – even less for him to come up with a response. "Have you gone mad?" Luka demanded.

"In my future, you …" Lucina paused, struggling to speak the words that would make the truth all too real. "You are my father's murderer."

Of all the things she could have said, of all the things she had said, this was the least expected, most unbelievable of all. "You're insane," Luka finally said, his tone flat and refusing to betray the uneasiness he was feeling. "Why would I kill Chrom?"

"I didn't want to believe it myself!" Lucina steadied her grip on Falchion. "I knew he had been killed by his closest friend, but having witnessed your bond with him, I … I wanted nothing more than to doubt it. But today's events make it clear." Her expression hardened. "You are at Validar's mercy. I suspect it's he who forces you to take my father's life, and very soon …"

Validar … he should have known. Everything was Validar's fault. Luka did not dare to dwell upon what had happened earlier that day. It was hard enough to admit that he had ... betrayed Chrom, but once word of his actions had got out to the rest of the Shepherds, they had become wary of him. No one had confronted him directly, but their looks said all. They challenged his loyalty to them and their cause, reflected their fear that he would backstab them all in a matter of time. It was infuriating, how his so-called companions could believe that he would turn against them and everything he knew for the ramblings of a Plegian madman. Not even Maribelle or his children could face him.

No, that wasn't true. His daughter Morgan still believed in him, but she was the only one. She had been quick to reassure him of her continued belief in his tactics and devotion to Chrom, and then she had left to confront everyone else about their mistrust. Luka wished that she hadn't, her absence and his solitude made it easier for the doubts to return.

His son, Brady, despite the closeness that they shared, was not nearly as convinced as his sister. It was easier for him to have doubts because he hadn't lost much of his memory during the passage through time like Morgan had and could still recall the bleak future he came from. Or maybe Brady was more like Luka than he had expected, a pessimist who spoke with more confidence than he actually felt. Morgan's optimism was of a nature more akin to her mother's, minus the dignity and noble pride that defined Maribelle. But even Maribelle didn't appear to trust him. The look that she and Brady had given him was both indescribable and crushing.

Or perhaps it was Lucina's influence on his son that caused more distrust than there may have been otherwise. Lucina, who had the most single-minded determination of everyone to change the future of destruction that she had come from, who had been the last of the exalts in her timeline and took her duty to the world seriously and personally. What if Brady had to choose between his fiancée and his father? Who would he side with? Luka did not disapprove of Brady's relationship with Lucina, but he resented the thought of Chrom's daughter driving a wedge between him and his son.

His son and daughter were of his blood, of Validar's blood – the enemy of the exalted line of Ylisse. He and his family could not have been in an unluckier situation.

"Listen to me, Lucina," Luka said once he was able to find his voice. "Don't do anything you will regret –"

"If Father is right, then we can change our fates," Lucina spoke fervently, the slightest bit of desperation in her eyes. "If this dark future is to be averted, sacrifices must be made. I am sorry, Luka! I know this is murder … but if you hold any love for Chrom, then let this be done …"

Luka's mind was reeling, but his face remained impassive and showed no indication of his inner turmoil. Lucina was absolutely serious. She would kill him right then and there without a second thought if she believed it would save the future. Maybe she was right. Maybe his death would mean that the horrible future his children had suffered would never exist. But the Brady and Morgan of the present would never be born. Could Chrom and the others win against Validar without him? Luka had his doubts. He couldn't die yet.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot just let you kill me, Lucina," Luka replied as he unsheathed his own sword and pointed it at her.

She nodded, her expression as blank as his as she stared down the blade of her future father-in-law. "I understand. Then we shall let battle have the final judgment!"

And with those words, Lucina let out a loud cry and slammed Falchion against Luka's sword to catch him off guard and disarm him. Luka nearly released his grip on the hilt, but quickly regained his equilibrium and pushed back until Lucina was on the defensive. He put more force behind his blade to deflect Falchion's strike and send Lucina reeling back.

The brief respite did not last long. Lucina was back on her feet and she charged at him with her sword at the ready. He was barely able to avoid having his stomach sliced open, the long slash in his cloak proof of his narrow escape. Luka swore and swiftly tore off his cloak, tossing it aside. Although he felt a significant loss of security without it, he knew that the garment would only slow him down. It was not something he could afford.

He brought up his sword just in time to block a blow to his throat. Lucina withdrew Falchion and lunged forward with a thrust aimed for his sword arm. Luka sidestepped the attack and slammed the blunt edge of his blade against Lucina's hand so that she would drop Falchion. She grimaced, but refused to relinquish her hold on her weapon. Spinning once to move her sword out of Luka's reach, Lucina raised Falchion and swung down at his neck. He wasn't fast enough to turn around, but Luka was able to maneuver his sword behind him to catch Lucina's blade. Forcing her sword away from his body, Luka stepped away and turned to face her.

"Lucina, I don't want to kill you, but you are leaving me little choice," Luka said. "Lower your weapon. Surely we can discuss this matter like civilized people instead of acting like a pair of barbarians." He tried not to think of how much he had sounded like Maribelle.

"No, I must do this, for the sake of the future … for my father." Lucina's voice wavered slightly. "There is no other way!"

"You're wrong, Lucina. There is more than one way to change the future. I have not led you or Chrom astray once. So why won't you trust in me now –"

"Enough!" Lucina had closed the gap between almost immediately – she was fast, much like her mother. Luka was laying on his back in the tall grass, Falchion pressed against his throat, the blade of his own sword - swiftly raised thanks to his automatic responses – the only thing standing between the sacred weapon and his flesh. "I won't … I won't allow myself to falter. I can't!"

The cool metal of Falchion's blade suddenly became hot, and Luka was alarmed to see flames quickly spreading across the sword. Chrom was about as magical as a common iron sword, but his wife, Sumia, was gifted with latent magic – a talent she had passed on to both her daughters. Luka, on the other hand, had a debilitating weakness to magical attacks. While he could wield tomes and channel his magic like a master, even if he preferred the sword, he was incapable of withstanding magic used against him. It always left Luka with wounds far greater than those inflicted on anyone else. And now Lucina was using it against him. He would certainly never share any of his vulnerabilities to anyone again.

Fueled by panic and a desire to survive, Luka kneed Lucina in the stomach. Winded, she fell on top of him as she gasped for air. Luka shoved her off, grabbed Falchion from where it had fallen, and stood up. The searing heat emitting from Falchion's hilt burned his palm and Luka instantly dropped it. He kicked it out of Lucina's reach and pointed his sword at her face to dissuade her from attacking him again.

"This battle is over." The iron in his voice dared her to disagree. "I understand that you only want to save the future, Lucina, but your perspective is narrow. You think that there is only one way to prevent destruction. Well, I'll stop that future – with or without your support."

"Luka! Lucina!" Chrom's voice was loud, angry, and seemed a lot closer than the prince actually was. He just had to show up at the worst possible time, didn't he?

"Darling?" Only one person in the entirety of the Shepherds, possibly the entirety of the world, could make a term of endearment sound like the greatest insult. Maribelle was clearly not happy with him.

Lowering his sword and turning to his furious friend and wife, Luka attempted to explain. "Chrom, Maribelle, before you both murder me on the spot you should know –"

He stopped midsentence, his words and body suddenly failing him. A sharp pain in his back that was rapidly spreading to the rest of him, his legs growing numb until they refused to support his weight … Luka collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood, and fell to the ground. The sound of Chrom's shouting and Maribelle calling his name was so distant, his blurring vision barely able to make out the shape of Maribelle's boots as she ran towards him.

In a brief moment of carelessness, Luka had left his defenses open to the person who wanted him dead. Lucina had taken the opportunity to stab him in the back.

I should have thrown Falchion down the hill when I had the chance, he thought as he slipped into unconsciousness.

!

If anyone had ever had doubts about the keen hearing of the taguel people, that evening had swiftly put those doubts to rest. Yarne, who had been hiding from Laurent and Brady, had overheard everything – from the beginning of Lucina and Luka's conversation to the part where she had stabbed him – and when Brady had finally cornered him Yarne could not keep quiet for more than a few seconds.

Word had spread fast. The Shepherds were in an uproar and divided into two mutinous camps. Most of the time travelers believed that Lucina was right to take whatever action she thought would avert the future they had come from. Gerome and Laurent were especially insistent, arguing that the dark future must be avoided at all costs. Even cheerful Inigo had solemnly agreed that Lucina had only done what she had to do and refused to listen to any disagreements.

Many others were angry that Lucina had tried to take Luka's life, however, accusing her of being irrational and not considering the consequences of her actions. There was no guarantee that Luka's death would deliver them from disaster. Morgan had to be held back and away from any weapons in the vicinity lest she try to strike Lucina down like she had done to her father. Brady and Lucina had fought bitterly and were no longer on speaking terms. Maribelle clenched her parasol tightly; her shoulders tense as if she were ready to strike down anyone who dared to so much as look at her husband funny.

But the majority of the Shepherds were caught in between their loved ones, not wanting to take sides in such a divisive situation. Frederick did not know whether to support his prince's daughter, who had only acted out of love for her father, or with his close friend and his wife (who still harbored a strong attraction to Luka despite their marriage). Sumia was horrified at her daughter's actions yet understanding why she would do such a thing, but not wanting to anger Maribelle any further, while Cynthia had been asking everyone who would listen if a true hero would have had to kill someone to save the lives of others – because weren't heroes supposed to be able to save everyone? Yarne, the instigator of mayhem, also couldn't side with either faction. ("Lucina was only doing what we had all agreed to do! S-so there! But could we have won against Plegia without Luka? Oh, we're doomed either way! I'm going to be extinct!" Then he had promptly fled the room when he noticed both Brady and Laurent looking ready to murder him.)

It was a terrible situation wrought with enough infighting to bring their assault on Plegia to an end, and yet Luka found it all very amusing.

His luck had not failed him yet, had seen him through his ordeal. The wound Lucina had inflicted on him was nowhere near as dire as it had first appeared to be, and would most likely heal sooner than the burns left by Falchion. But he felt weak and tired – and too vindictive to even try to defuse the thick air of tension that surrounded the camp – and so he pretended that he were still unconscious.

Hours later, after everyone else had retired for the night, Luka lay awake staring up at the ceiling of his tent. Maribelle was curled up against him, clinging to his left arm. Morgan had claimed his other side, holding her father's right arm in a death grip. Brady was sprawled out on the ground beside her, mumbling loudly and unintelligibly every once in a while. But Luka couldn't sleep, troubled thoughts keeping him up.

At the end of it all, what were they supposed to do now? Much as he wanted to deny it, Validar was a foe that Luka could not afford to underestimate. The vile sorcerer who claimed to be his father had a strange control over him, and he was a danger to everyone he cared about as long as Validar continued to bar their path. But he would have to face him sooner or later, couldn't keep running away forever. What was he supposed to do?

Luka shook his head and closed his eyes, refusing to dwell upon it any longer for the time being. He had always considered himself to be lucky, and he had yet to be disproved. He had to believe that his luck would hold up for a little longer, that Chrom would be able to stop Validar before Luka had a chance to harm his friend.

It'll work out, he assured himself as tried to force his restless mind to sleep. Everything will be fine. It'll work out.

!

A/N: The ending may be a bit more rushed than I would've liked it to be, but I'm satisfied with this for now. Luka is a 1-2-1-17-2 avatar with friends and a personality that I consider quite different from Robin's. I already have an idea for the next two stories and avatars I want to write about, so how quickly I can get the next update depends on how busy real life ends up being.