Author's notes: YES! Length! Delicious, delicious, length! And it's a good thing I read through this even after typing it up; I caught a number of mistakes. If anyone catches any I missed, please let me know. On that note, enjoy! It was fun to write the three siblings snarking at each other.

"Milady Lucina! Two strangers are here, asking for you. They wear the garb of the Grimleal, but carry a white flag."

Well, Lucina couldn't say she'd seen that coming. Such ill timing; it was her plan to leave for Mount Prism the next morn. Perhaps her plan should be hastened, if two Grimleal were here? She gulped her apprehension back down and turned to the soldier who had come to alert her.

"What is their purpose?" She asked.

"They claim they are here to parley, and will speak to none but the Princess Lucina."

She blinked. A peace talk, from the Grimleal? That was unexpected entirely. Regardless, Lucina had to speak with them. Former exalt Emmeryn, her father would say, would never turn down any such meeting, no matter how foul-smelling. Nonetheless, she picked up Falchion. "I will see them at once. Take me to them."

This was such a dangerous idea.

For one, Mark couldn't even be sure Lucina would agree to see them. He pulled his cowl a little further over his face, determined to ensure only Lucina recognized them. How did he know she wouldn't summon her best soldiers to gang up and slaughter the two Morgans out?

Though he retained a composed face, Mark was very nervous. Enemy or not, this was his sister he would meet with for the first time, off the battlefield.

"I can't do this," Morgan said, moving to walk away. "We'll be killed for sure."

Mark grabbed her arm. "You're staying with me!" He did well to keep his panic out of his voice. "Our survival odds are better together. How would you feel if I got killed here while you survived?"

With a groan of frustration, Morgan returned to her brother's side. "Bloody chicken."

"You're the one who just tried to run off!"

"I feel like we're betraying Mother by doing this. If she catches us, we're dead."

"It's not like we're defecting, sis. We're just here to talk. Nothing more. Calm down." The last two words were more meant for himself than Morgan.

A blue-haired swordswoman– yep, that was Lucina– approached, alone. Mark took a deep breath while she was still a good distance away and raised up the pale scrap of cloth serving as their "white flag". It had been hard to come by, as the Grimleal knew nothing of its meaning– "truce". Mark reaffirmed that Lucina was alone. Good. That would make things less nerve-wracking. He pulled his hood down, and Lucina gasped.

"You!" she hissed, reaching for the Falchion. Mark waved the flag again.

"We're not here to fight. My twin and I just want to talk."

"I'm your enemy," the princess whispered venomously. "You are Grimleal. Grima's own children, even! What would you know of parley?"

"A lot more than you, princess," Morgan snapped. She then yelped; Mark had elbowed her in the side. He also raised a hand to remove her cowl while he was at it.

"If I could ask all present to speak a civil tongue, that would be appreciated. A fight here would be disastrous to all parties involved. We're not..." Mark faltered. "We didn't come to speak as your enemies, but as your siblings."

Lucina cringed. An understandable reaction. Perhaps Mark could have worded that better. "And what do you want to discuss? Are you trying to ask me to join you?"

Morgan nodded before receiving another elbow in the side. "No," Mark answered. "Nor are we here to defect. I just... wanted to talk to you away from the battlefield, is all. I don't want to fight my own sister."

"Since neither of us is willing to switch sides, that seems inevitable. Why did you risk your lives to come here?" Justifiable suspicion, Mark thought. This wasn't going how he had hoped, but what did he expect?

"Um..."

"That's exactly what I told him," Morgan snorted. "There's no point in talking with you, we're only going to kill you later anyways."

"Sister!" Mark elbowed her a third time. "I don't want to kill her. Er, that is," he turned to Lucina, "I don't want to kill you. I don't care that you're my enemy. You're also my sister. It's just wrong for family to kill each other."

"How is it that you're Grima's own children, born and raised in the Grimleal, and yet you have some semblance of honor? At least," she pointed to Mark, "you do."

"You may call me Mark. It's what my sister does to avoid confusion. We only call each other Morgan to confuse..." He trailed off; he didn't need to remind Lucina that the purpose of it was to confuse her. He cleared his throat. "Ahem! Yes." He received a sharp elbow to the side from his twin.

"Why did you tell her our secret?! She's–"

"What difference does it make, Morgan? She already knows there are two of us. I trust her, anyways." Both women gasped in surprise at the last statement. Mark became acutely aware of their gazes on him, piercing him. Lucina appeared to be reevaluating his character while Morgan– this one Mark was sure of– questioned his sanity.

"Unbelievable, Morgan," his twin admonished, using their name to point out their supposed unity. "Have you lost your wits entirely? What would our mother think? This is our–"

"Enemy, enemy, enemy!" He finished for her. "That's all I ever hear! I'm sick of it! Are things really so black and white? Do we really have to fight each other? Why couldn't we just get along like a normal family is supposed to?" Mark dug out the old ring. "What do you think this means?" He waved it in her face.

"May I see that?" Lucina asked. Mark looked at her, wondering at the timid note in her voice, and carefully handed it over, his tirade finished.

His older sister took it with a delicate hand. "Where did you get this?" She asked as she examined it.

"I stole it from our mother when I was young." He scratched the back of his head; it was a little embarrassing, when he worded it that way. "Now I know why she didn't scold me for it, huh? I didn't even realize what it meant until after our fight a few days ago."

"I would have expected Grima to have thrown it away. I have reason to believe our mother was another person entirely prior to the revival of the fell dragon." Mark noted her composure.

"For someone fighting so devoutly in Naga's cause, you sure are calm about being a fellblood suddenly." Ah, finally. Morgan said something civil.

"... I've had good company to talk it over with. But I'm told– by one who knew her before Grima's ascension– that she used to be calm and gentle... And that she loved her husband very much." Morgan made a retching noise, presumably at the thought of their parents together.

Mark got the impression that Lucina was hiding something. He decided to press it, but gently. "I wasn't aware that any of her old allies survived. She told me that she personally hunted and killed them all." He paused, trying to think of a lighter note. "But if one survived, we won't mention it."

"'We'?" queried Morgan. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

"Sis, how would we explain how we found that out? You were the one who said no one would know of this meeting."

"So you really are here alone," Lucina breathed in relief. "So if I tell you who it is, you won't tell her?"

Mark could practically hear his twin gnashing her teeth as she growled, "given our situation, we haven't much choice. If our mother knew of this parley, she might well have our heads for it."

Lucina appeared hopeful. She opened her mouth to speak– perhaps to say who– but she closed it again. Mark could just hear her whisper, "I can't tell anyone... He's supposed to be dead..."

He nodded his head. "If you don't want to say, I won't force it. ... Sister," he added. Morgan looked scandalized.

An awkward, lengthy pause followed.

"We have to be going soon." Alertness rang in Morgan's voice, and Mark nodded. Better to leave before their mother became suspicious of their absence...

"It was nice to speak with you, Lucina," he said with a weak smile.

His older sister inclined her head. "The same to you... Brother."

He embraced her for a moment, then Morgan decided she'd had enough, and tore him away. "Come on," she growled. Mark saw Lucina curtsy, and begin to walk away. "What in the seven hells were you thinking? She's going to die like the rest of them. Why bother getting close?" She sounded worried, but what she said gave Mark an idea.

"WAIT!" He cried out, to both his sisters. Lucina turned, and Morgan reluctantly let go of him. The three converged once more.

"Once this is over," Mark began carefully, "once one side or the other wins... Whichever of us loses will be spared from death. So, if you win, Lucina, you will not kill me or my sister. And if we win, we will not kill you. Is everyone all right with that?"

"It's sentimental foolishness, but if it helps you sleep at night, then I accept," Morgan grumbled.

"I will agree to this as well. It will put my mind at ease... For now."

"Very well, then. We have a pact. Farewell, Lucina." Mark smiled. "Big sister."

"Farewell, brother." Lucina waved as Mark turned to leave.

Perhaps, one day...