A/N: This chapter begins at exactly the same time as the previous one. They do not, however, coincide.
Falchion spun end over end through the rusty sky out of the explosion of blue, purple, and black magic of the Fell Dragon's expiration. The blade stopped abruptly when the tip of the sword lodged between two tiles of a ruined fresco on the roof of the shattered remains of the once great palace at Ylisstol.
The remnants of the younger Shepherds watched as the Fire Emblem fell from the charred corpse of Lucina, their Exalt and the last hope for their continued existence. Lucina had performed the Awakening with Tiki, had held Falchion wreathed in blue flames above her head and charged at Grima with a battle cry on her lips. And now Lucina smoked and crackled as sparks of purple magic fell from her blackened body.
Grima, or at least the humanoid form wrapped in shadow that served as Grima's avatar, made a low rumbling noise that morphed into a basso chuckle before growing into an overpowering laugh. The gigantic head of the Fell Dragon's true form retreated away from the palace, all six of its purple eyes gleaming with malice.
Most of the Shepherds were still engaged with the ludicrously strong Risen that swarmed over the battlements to protect their master.
Inigo cried out as his sister's burned and unsupported ligaments finally gave out and Lucina's remains collapsed into a pile of bone and ash with occasional melted metal flecks that had once been part of her armor mixed in.
His older sister, the heir and hero of house Ylisse, the leader of the Shepherds and last hope for humanity, was dead. Inigo wanted to sit down and cry. He wanted to slink away from the battle and dance away his despair. He wanted to be comforted by his mother and his father. He wanted his sister to stay with him.
When he had been born, the Halidom had rejoiced. Dark winds blew from Valm in the west, and the people of Ylisse were understandably nervous. Their beloved Exalt Emmeryn had died by the fell hand of an assassin, and Chrom's desire to command the armies of the realm himself placed him in immediate danger should the worst come to pass. A male heir meant security, and another blue-haired king with the blood of the Hero to save them in their hour of need.
As Inigo grew up, though, the heart of the realm began to change. Chrom began teaching his daughter his own unique art of swordsmanship to the surprise of many in his court. There were objections at first, until Chrom pointed out that had Emmeryn been trained for combat, the assassination wouldn't have occurred, and that he would not let the same befall his daughter. The last objections died when it became clear that Lucina was more than an average swordswoman – she had a grace that Chrom never did while maintaining all of his strength and ferocity, which many attributed to their lady mother. That, and Falchion responded to her hand, but not to Inigo's.
When Chrom went in force to heed the Plegian envoy's summons and failed to return, the realm crowned the child they thought most likely to lead them to victory – Inigo's sister, Lucina.
In truth, it had been a relief. Inigo didn't want the pressure of leading a nation in forever darkening times. He continued his own arms training, at first vowing vengeance for his father and mother. As things deteriorated, Naga warned them all that the awakened Falchion wielded by one who it accepted might be the only thing able to destroy the Fell Dragon that now ravaged the world. Without the ability to wield Falchion, his all of Inigo's training seemed pointless.
And so, even though he was the definitive heir to the throne, he allowed himself to slip into Lucina's protective shadow. As he grew older, he would seek pleasure with what women he could find, and he would sneak away from council meetings to dance by starlight, but he knew that this was only tolerated by Lucina because of her guilty desire for him fully experience childhood in a way she was never able to.
It was because she loved him.
And now, the last woman to truly love him was dead.
A Risen berserker charged at his flank, the gleaming edge of a killer axe held high and ready to strike for his blood. Fortunately, Inigo's private dance practice was easily incorporated into his martial training. With a half-pirouette to the left, Inigo dodged the axe head and slipped the tip of his blade through his opponent's neck, severing the head and causing the corpse to collapse instantly.
Others still fought the horde, but there seemed to be no end in sight.
"Look on your champion, the pathetic last Exalt Lucina, and despair!" shouted Grima's avatar in his deep, rumbling voice. "Even the power of this new Naga cannot save you! Now embrace your deaths!"
The dragon overhead roared in triumph.
It was too much. "You take that back."
"What was that?" asked Grima.
"What you said about my sister. You take it back right now," Inigo said in a calm voice.
Grima did not respond with words. The dragon bellowed and the avatar made a sloppy gesture with his left arm, and four Risen swordmasters rose out of the tiles of the mosaic that had once covered the roof of the palace at Ylisstol and charged at Inigo.
The first foe approached from Inigo's left. He swept up and to the left with his sword, slicing open the corpse's stomach while allowing it's momentum to carry it past him on his left side. The second swordmaster came from the right, and was quickly dispatched by a stab through the chest, which was quickly retracted to free his blade. The third Risen was coming at him now, but he heard shambling to his left and swiveled his wrist to give a sharp stab backwards. The feeling of the first Risen staggering against the blow was sweet. Inigo whipped the blade out of the enemy behind him and over his shoulder into a downward slash at the enemy that had now closed in front of him, opening a clean gash through its neck. The last swordmaster came at him with a high swing clearly meant to take his head off. Inigo dropped to one knee in a pseudo-lunge and thrust his silver sword forward and slightly up, bypassing the rib cage to pierce the heart and dropping the foe with nothing but a shallow groan.
The avatar of Grima stared at Inigo in what could only be described as shock. "Who are you?"
"I am Inigo of Ylisse. You have destroyed my country. Prepare to die!" Inigo said in a crescendo as he stood up and charged the avatar.
The shock on Grima's face disappeared and was replaced with rage. Grima pulled a tome from somewhere within his robes, and Inigo was knocked back against the base of a toppled column when a Thoron beam lanced through his belly.
He clutched his shirt over the wound with his left hand. Thankfully, the beam was narrow and had seared the wound, making it unlikely he would bleed out any time soon. A mend stave charge would probably fix him. That didn't mean he was well, though. Inigo's legs began to burn, like they would when he slept on them in a poor position. He might have plenty of blood, but his legs were receiving almost none of it.
"I'm sorry father. I tried… I tried." Inigo whispered to himself.
Still, that was no reason to give up. He had to get vengeance for his sister, his mother, his father, all of the people of Ylisse and the world who had died at Grima's hands. Glancing around him, Falchion still stood where it had fallen, the hilt only little more than an arm's length away and angled toward him.
"Now I see. You must be that Ylissean brat the previous Exalt begged me to spare all those years ago. Simply incredible. You've wanted to kill me you whole life, only to fail now. And right after I had killed your sister, too." Grima was now talking directly to him. His voice was silky, a far cry from the basso reverberations he used earlier. "I think that's the worst thing I've ever heard… How marvelous."
Inigo could only grimace in pain as he tried to stand up, but fell when his legs gave out. Still, Falchion was now within reach.
"Good heavens, are you still trying to win?" Grima smoothly asked as the avatar strolled towards him.
Inigo grasped Falchion by the hilt, but choked as some blood came up into his mouth and fell back against the base of the destroyed column. He stayed on his feet, but it was a near thing.
"You've got an over-developed sense of vengeance. It's going to get you into trouble someday." Grima stepped forward with feline grace, putting away his Thoron tome and bringing his own sword to bear.
The rest of the battle raged around them, but to Inigo the world had shrunk. He thumbed the hilt the way he had seen Lucina do it countless times to mend her own injuries with the divine power of Naga's spirit. Or was it Tiki's spirit now? Regardless of the source, he could feel the healing energy slip down his arm and into his belly. The effect was not as rapid as when Lucina did it, but he could feel blood slowly returning to his legs.
Still not able to move his legs well enough to dodge, Inigo could only parry the incoming strike away from his heart. Grima's blade stabbed through his left shoulder, and again through his right arm. Grima became visibly frustrated, and came at him with an overhead arc.
This time, he had enough energy to put force behind his parry and to block the immediate riposte. Inigo slowly pushed off the wall. Falchion's healing was nearing completion, and strength began to return to his voice. "Hello. My name is Inigo of Ylisse. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
Inigo fell on his side against another piece of rubble, clearly not as healed as he thought. He thumbed the hilt to give himself another mend charge. Grima gave him a glare and lunged once again.
Three lightning-quick strikes were parried once again, although Inigo was not foolish enough to attempt his own attack just yet. Like any good performer, he had to stall for time while preparations were made for the great reveal. So, he said, "Hello. My name is Inigo of Ylisse. You killed my mother. Prepare to die." He even added a small nod at the end, eye brows raised in a taunting way.
Grima struck again, this time with a flurry of blows that could have rent armor and cleaved any man in two. He blocked each with more ferocity, the sharp blade of Falchion beginning to glow with blue light, just as it had when his sister wielded it against this same man minutes ago.
Inigo wondered why Grima didn't simply blast him to bits with a spell, or blast him with the foul breath of the dragon above them, but it was simple enough to figure out. Lucina had been killed by the dragon's breath when she was knocked away from close-combat with the avatar. The breath would harm him as well. As for the Thoron tome, if Grima tried to use that now he would be an easy target for Inigo with Falchion. By coming close to Inigo to gloat, Grima had committed himself to sword combat. Now that Inigo's full strength was returned to him, he pushed his advantage.
"HELLO! My name is Inigo of Ylisse. You killed me sister. Prepare to die!"
Grima finally snapped. "Stop saying that!" he raged. He swung wide to attack Inigo's left, but Inigo parried and managed to pierce the avatar's left arm. Grima's avatar ignored the pain and attacked again, this time with a wide arc to Inigo's right. He once again parried and used the counter-attack to put the sacred blade through Grima's right arm.
Falchion began to glow an even brighter, and the Brand of Ylisse seemed to reflect the blue light strongly. Grima began to back away, but Inigo pressed on.
"Hello! My name is Inigo of Ylisse! You killed my family! Prepare to die!" Inigo shouted, punctuating every sentence with a strike of the sacred blade. Grima parried and dodged what he could, but the final strike flung the sword from the avatar's hands.
Inigo could see the very real fear in the avatar's eyes, and knew that the end was near. The desperation of such a monster sickened him, but he had to make Grima feel as hopeless as he had each time one of his loved ones died. Inigo wanted Grima to beg.
With a swipe, a gash appeared across the avatar's cheek. "Offer me money."
"Yes," was the deadly serious reply after a short period of disbelief. The desperation remained, but perhaps Grima hoped to get out of this situation still.
Inigo gave another swipe, and a reciprocal gash opened on the other side of Grima's face. "Power too, promise me that."
Grima's reply was quick this time. "All that I have and more. Please. "
Inigo pulled back his hand in a mock-pleading gesture and said, "Offer me everything I ask for."
"Anything you want!" Grima said, although now he seemed to be getting frustrated. Inigo decided to end it now.
Grima made for his sword, but Inigo stabbed out with Falchion in what was a sure killing blow. With more emotion than he meant to show, he was able to say the final words he wanted Grima to ever hear.
"I want my family back you son of a bitch."
Ingio twisted Falchion and drove it up before letting the dying avatar slide off the tip.
"… At last… I have control…" said the avatar of Grima, no longer in a reverberating, all-encompassing presence or a silky smooth accent, but in a normal voice. "… No one else… will suffer… because of me…"
Black flames began to consume the figure, parts of his body burning way into nothing. Behind him, the Fell Dragon itself fell from the sky as its body too was engulfed by flame and purple sparks.
"… Lucina… please forgive me… I tried my best…"
The fires finished their gruesome work and went out, not even leaving ashes to be scattered by the wind as the clouds that had covered the world for most of Inigo's life began to dissipate. The Risen his friends had been fighting were disappearing now too, breaking apart along with all other traces of the dark magic used by the Fell Dragon to blight the world.
Ingio didn't know what to think of Grima's last words. He didn't particularly care at the moment either. He had avenged his father and mother, but at a cost he never wanted to pay.
He muttered to himself with a soft voice, "I have wanted revenge for so long, but now that it is over, I do not know what to do for the rest of my life…"
The wind continued to blow, and his friends gathered around him.
A/N: Credit for most of the dialogue and quite a bit of the action obviously goes to the writers of The Princess Bride. Thanks for reading! I would appreciate any and all critiques, especially constructive criticism. If you would like a response, the easiest way to contact me is by PM.