Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Here's the next chapter! It's been a pretty busy week...but to compensate, I guess, this one's a little longer than normal. Enjoy!
CHAPTER FOUR: JOURNEY
Despite their leader's advice to get a good night's rest for the next day's march, most of the Shepherds were awake that night, excited and slightly anxious about their return to the capital. Some wondered eagerly what it would be like to be treated as a hero; others thought apprehensively, they didn't know how to act like heroes. Should they shout heroic catchphrases as they wandered the streets? Show off their weapon skills or strike heroic stances? Still others thought about the changes to their lifestyles they'd have to make, and a few decided obstinately that they would not change their ways, dark hexes or thievery or whatever their particular hobby may be. And lastly, some had fits of nightmares, unwilling to let their guard down and smother that subconscious voice that whispered, Grima isn't dead, tomorrow you'll find it was just a dream, get ready to fight for your life again...
Whatever the personal reason, most of the Shepherds were up early the next morning, muttering "Couldn't sleep" as a hasty explanation for bloodshot eyes or mussed hair. They packed in jittery haste, rolling up tents and packing up blankets and cushions and cooking utensils from the mess tent. By six in the morning, everyone was ready to go.
Of course, there were a few exceptions.
"Where's Virion?" Frederick demanded, exasperated. The flowery-tongued archer was no where to be seen. "We're marching in ten minutes! Cherche! Where is he this time?"
The great knight's wife shrugged amiably, patting Minerva's back. "Primping, likely. We've gone over this before, love."
"What does that mean, primping? Right before a march? What does he even do to 'primp' anyway - no, never mind, please don't answer that." Frederick reached for his lance and restlessly put it down again. "Where are Stahl and Kellam? And Nowi? And Gerome - where is Gerome, Cherche, I haven't seen him all morning…"
Chrom, half listening to this exchange at the head of the procession, stuck Falchion into the soil impatiently. For some absurd reason, he felt the intense need to hurry back to Ylisstol, though he couldn't figure out why. Morgan was next to him, squinting across the plain. "I don't see Lucina. She was here a moment ago."
"What?" Chrom made an effort to refocus his attention to the present. Stahl was probably eating a late breakfast, Kellam was likely in the crowd - there he was - and Nowi was likely sleeping in, but Lucina...Lucina wasn't the type to be missing before it was time to march. Neither was Gerome, although the wyvern rider was so dark and quiet it was easy to miss him. Gods, did they have to go through this every time? "I just saw her-"
"Sorry!" Lucina reappeared in the middle of the crowd, edging her way to the front, her face uncharacteristically flushed. Gerome had silently materialized next to his parents as well. "Sorry, everyone. I had something last minute to take care of. Are we ready?" She gave her father and brother a convincing smile.
Morgan returned the smile with dry look.
Soon enough the rest of the Shepherds joined the group, and their final journey back to Ylisstol began. The procession was quieter than usual at first, and then a wave of discussion would rise up whenever they passed a familiar landmark. Villagers cheered and waved to the group as it passed by.
Around late afternoon, when they were walking through fields halfway between Regna Ferox and Ylisstol, Morgan suddenly said sharply, "Lucina?"
Chrom stopped abruptly next to her, hand instinctively on Falchion's hilt. Lucina jolted. "Wh-what?"
Morgan grinned. "Nothing. Just checking to see if you're awake and all. Y'know," the boy said, looking up at the cloudless blue sky with a funny face, hands lifted behind his head, "I'm not sure what, but I feel like we're going to be incredibly lucky today."
Chrom shielded his eyes from the sun. Any time Robin had said that, the group had done remarkably better in battle or found some rare object. He always wondered if she really knew or if it was all in their heads. "What makes you say that?"
Morgan shrugged. "I just feel it. Might as well get our spirits up, anyway. Come on, don't you feel like we need to get somewhere? There's luck waiting for us! Hey, Lucina," and here he smirked at his sister, "Maybe you'll be the lucky one today."
Lucina pursed her lips and ignored her brother's teasing. Besides, their father was listening to them closely now. Getting into a fight (or worse, a round of exposing secrets) was not exactly what she would have liked to be doing on a day meant for basking in victory.
To her relief, Morgan let the matter go and instead focused on Chrom, who was now checking the Shepherds' position on a faded map from the barracks. "Father? Can you tell us a story about Mother?"
"Wha?!" Chrom almost dropped the map. He groaned inwardly. By now, he should have been used to Morgan's spontaneity-after all, Robin was fond of saying that one of a tactician's greatest weapons was unpredictability. "No."
"Please?" Lucina chimed in, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Today's a special day. We don't have time for a match now. Why don't you just tell us-"
"No! Not…that story, anyway," their father protested a bit sheepishly. "You don't need to hear that."
"Mother never told me how she met you-"
"Morgan said I'd be lucky...I'd probably win the match today anyway-"
"Of course we need to hear how you-"
"Oh, go on, tell them, Chrom," Lissa's voice said as she slipped to the front to join her brother. "They might as well know."
Chrom glared at her. "You're not helping! And since when were you involved in this conversation?"
"Aunt Lissa's on our side-"
"C'mon, there's just grass out here-"
"We won't use Falchion or tomes to destroy roaches again-"
Lissa laughed. "Ha! I already know this story that you don't want them to hear. You'd better tell them before I do!"
"Alright, alright!" Chrom relented, not wanting to hear Lissa's dramatic point of view, and Lucina and Morgan cheered. "One afternoon we were patrolling an area west of Ylisstol, somewhere near here, when we suddenly came to someone asleep in an empty field..."
As the Ylissean exalt was bombarded with questions, the Shepherds came upon a small, rebuilt village surrounded by a plain of grass. Chrom had a sudden thought as he told his daughter and son a story from what seemed like a lifetime ago: Something good is going to happen today.