Something something eat your bear jerky, Frederick. It's good for you, Frederick. Just do it, Frederick.
The carnage from the attempt on Emmeryn's life truly frightened Lissa. They hadn't just gone after the Exalt; about half of the staff members had been harmed. Some wounds, namely superficial wounds, concussions, and broken bones, had been fixable with a few treatments of healing spells; a few cooks, two maids, and a butler, were back on duty after Lissa and Maribelle had diligently healed them.
For a maid and four guards, though, their injuries were far worse.
The maid, along with one of the guards, had lost limbs, lopped off by weapons. Between the pains of making sure the stump healed correctly and counseling them through the trauma, Lissa knew it would be a difficult road for both. Others had been nearly eviscerated, and now Lissa and Maribelle were doing their best to rearrange and heal their bodies in proper order.
Lissa was convinced that the ones who had been opened up would heal up correctly and return to work within a few weeks. As for the two who lost limbs, she was concerned about their livelihoods. The guard had lost a leg; unless he became an archer, his career was essentially over. For the maid, the lost arm harmed her marriage prospects, more than anything else. "No well-to-do Ylissean man is going want to marry a woman injured in battle," she said to Lissa, two days after the attack as she underwent another round of healing to properly close up her stump. Her eyes were brimming with tears—from physical pain or emotional pain, Lissa couldn't begin to fathom. "I can do my job just fine with one arm, but...what man will want me?"
"Someone will," she reassured her. Although her troubles with Lon'qu were almost petty in comparison to his woman's worries, Lissa empathized with her. "Also, if no Ylissean man wants you, wait 'til some buff Feroxi man comes through and finds your battle wound attractive."
"Those brutes enjoy that?" she asked, her nose wrinkled.
Lissa laughed. "Those 'brutes' like tough women. Look at you! You survived getting your arm cut off! You're talking about getting back to your job!" She released the spell, examining the raw skin that had started to cover the end of the woman's appendage. "Plus, you still have the upper half. We could get you a cool hook or something."
"Lissa, my darling, are you encouraging the poor woman to look like a pirate?" Maribelle walked over, wiping copious amounts of blood from her hands. When Lissa gave her a questioning look, she sighed. "The guard who lost his leg. He's ticklish. I was attempting to change his bandages, and I suppose I touched his thigh wrong or something. He moved his leg in just the wrong fashion and began bleeding profusely. All over me."
Chuckling, Lissa began another round of healing on her patient. The end of the staff glowed warmly as she worked, and the maid twitched. New skin over an injury of this nature tended to itch horribly; Lissa herself had never needed a healing and had no idea. "Someday, when you get married, you have to let me give a speech. I'll talk about the time you just about made a man bleed out because you tickled his thigh."
"You will do no such thing, Lissa!" Maribelle ordered, making both the maid and Lissa giggle. "I promise you, if you do such a tawdry thing—"
"Jeez, I kid, I kid. Cool it, Maribelle," Lissa said, holding her hands out defensively. "I promise you, I will probably not mention that story at your wedding. Now, you never said in private, when I meet your future husband."
After the second round of healing, Lissa stood and grasped the maid's only hand. "This is as much as I can do today without overworking my staff or accidentally thickening your skin. We'll pick up again in a day or two, okay?"
The maid nodded, giving Lissa a brave smile. "Thank you for your patience. And for the entertainment," she added as she gave Maribelle a pointed look.
"Much obliged, my lady," Lissa said, mimicking Maribelle's stuffy language. As she stood up to walk out of the infirmary, Maribelle hooked her arm through Lissa's, beaming that tight, annoyed smile she managed so well. Before Lissa could ask what was going on, Maribelle swung out into the hallway and toward a rather stuffy little supply closet. As Maribelle hurried her inside, the cleric asked, "What are you doing?"
"We need to have a little chat, darling. Something is amiss," she responded. Lissa perched herself on the edge of a barrel of flour, sighing. She's probably going to yell at me for having a little fun at her expense or something. It's not my fault she sounds so puffed up all the time, Lissa thought, a touch grumpily.
Maribelle gazed down at her, leaning against shelves containing sugar and other raw ingredients. "You have not had the swordsman from Chon'sin with you for a few days," she remarked. "Is he not your guard?"
"I'm in the castle. Right now, he's not...particularly needed," she remarked, rubbing at her neck awkwardly. "So I'm here. He's in the garrison."
"After an attack of that nature, would it not make more sense for him to stand up here and guard you?" Maribelle asked.
Lissa cursed her logic. Nothing escapes her, does it? "You know about my insecurities about...well…people? And being annoying?"
"Yes," Maribelle responded, pushing her parasol open partway nonchalantly. "You are afraid that you annoy others and that you are not a good royal," Maribelle concluded with a huff. "Why bring that up?"
"Well, I've kind of told him about those things, thinking he'd empathize. He seemed to understand, at first," Lissa said. Her tone crestfallen, she continued, "Then, during the attack, he froze up. A Plegian almost killed me," she paused here, feeling shaky. Whenever she closed her eyes, the tip of his lance in her face was still emblazoned on her eyelids.
"Take your time," Maribelle said soothingly.
Lissa sighed. After a moment, she said, "He just...he told me to stop pestering him.I thought he was hurt or something. But no, I guess I was just bothering him. Like my teachers and the older nobles used to do. I didn't think that I was annoying him that badly," she said, crestfallen.
"Would you like me to beat him with my parasol? It's not very ladylike, I will admit that, but using a word like 'pester' when you're obviously quite sensitive about that? How crass," she remarked, her eyes narrowing.
Lissa pushed her parasol down from its attack position. "No. I should've known. He doesn't like women to begin with. Why did I think he'd be okay with spending all of his time around an annoying one, like me?" she said, her tone dark.
"If it makes you feel any better, I found you refreshing, not annoying," Maribelle remarked, resting her free hand on top of Lissa's. "You've always been a good friend to me, no matter what other people said about me. Yes, you are stubborn. Yes, you have never been very ladylike. You have always been a good person, though, and if he cannot see that, then that is his own fault, darling." She gave her friend a quick hug. "Darling, I have matters to attend to. I have to make sure that Mr. Ticklish Thigh does not trigger his wound again. I told him that new skin was fragile, too, and yet there he was, bucking around like a fish out of water."
After Maribelle left, Lissa sat on the barrel alone for a while, gazing at her hands. There was blood, not even her own, under her nails. She was disgusted by it, but she dropped her hands back into her lap and groaned loudly. Now what? Maribelle, thanks for the pep talk, but what am I supposed to do about Lon'qu? Do I ask for a new guard? Do I stay here for a while without the shepherds and take care of the injured? What do I do? You always tell me what I should do when I don't want it, so why didn't you take the time to tell me now?
She stood and straightened her skirt. Lissa decided to seek out Emmeryn. Wise and wonderful—but currently busy with reparations in her castle...would she even be able to give Lissa any answers?
It was worth a shot.
"I need to speak with Lissa."
Lon'qu had been stopped at the back door leading through the kitchens of the castle by a guard, a scrawny teenager with a hand axe under one arm while the other was stuck in a sling. Clearly someone hadn't bothered to see Maribelle and Lissa. "Some random bloke from Chon'sin?" the kid asked, squinting at Lon'qu. "No. And why with the sword?"
"I'm a shepherd. I work directly with Captain Chrom, as ordered by Khan Basilio of Regna Ferox. Let me in," Lon'qu ordered, crossing his arms. He ignored the boy's vague racism; it was more important to find Lissa than to deal this kid a severe beating.
The teenager wiped his nose with his hand in front of Lon'qu, snorting loudly. "Sorry. My hay fever is something awful."
"You are wasting my time. I care not about your hay fever. Let me in," Lon'qu repeated as he stepped back from the boy. Some of these Ylisseans were worse when it came to manners than Feroxi warriors! "Who are you to decide these things?"
"Well, who are you to order me around? I don't care a bit about what some Feroxi khan said. I'm Ylissean. I listen to what my Exalt says. Or...what my Exalt tells the captain of the guard to tell me," he said, frowning.
Lon'qu groaned. He didn't have time to play around with semantics with this child. "Either step aside or I will make you step aside. This is ridiculous."
"Jeez, sir. Fine. I'm gonna go talk to Captain Phila. You're on the honor system. You'll wait right here until I let you in," the boy said, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at Lon'qu in the classic "I'm watching you" move. Lon'qu stood, nonplussed, as the boy disappeared into the castle. He didn't hear the lock click when the door shut. When he stepped up to it and tested the knob, he found that it opened.
So...this is who Lissa is letting herself be guarded by, he thought, closing the door. If that boy wasn't back within five minutes, he would walk into the castle on his own and find Lissa, also on his own. He didn't need some Ylissean whelp telling him what he, as a shepherd working for both Captain Chrom and Khan Basilio, could do.
Emmeryn was nowhere to be found. Truth be told, Lissa hadn't expected to be able to find her; somewhere in Ylisstol, she was roaming the streets with her guard. Lissa normally admired that. Now, as she needed her sister's guidance, she didn't appreciate Emmeryn's humanitarian efforts.
Lissa wandered through the castle, trailing her fingers along the cold, rather unwelcoming stone walls. What she wouldn't give to live somewhere small, cozy, and stationary, a place that a fire could warm in minutes and didn't stash into a roll on a horse's back. She removed her hand from the wall and jammed them into the pocket on her apron. It was early summer, and somehow she was still cold. Never mind somehow—she knew exactly how. She had just been thinking about how frigid this castle was.
She started upstairs toward her room, and then paused. It felt wrong, being alone. The castle was swarming with guards; shepherds filled in here and there for those who were still out of commission. Just this morning, she had spoken with Panne, the new shepherd who was a taguel, and Frederick; yet, she felt that she was missing her shadow.
She truly doubted that he missed her. Lissa frowned and hopped down the stairs, taking two at a time. He'd been so reluctant to guard her, after all. Even if they'd become fairly friendly, who was to say it hadn't been an act he had put up just so Lissa's feelings wouldn't be hurt?
She hopped off the last stair and stood, gazing at the huge, open vestibule with a sigh. "Meh. Boys are dumb," she muttered to herself.
While she decided what to do, her stomach growled. Lissa chided herself; how much had she even eaten in the past few days, between her constant brooding and taking care of injured staff members? She had missed lunch again; maybe there were a few rolls or apples sitting around that she could grab to stave off hunger until dinner. As she headed down that hallway, her thoughts turned to food. What even would be for dinner tonight? She hoped that there was some kind of soup. How long had it been since—
Lissa collided with a rather solid human as she rounded the corner. She fell backwards, but a broad hand snagged hers, yanking her to her feet. Lon'qu. There was no forgetting the feeling of that warm, strong, rough hand of his. Her face was already hot, but she tore her hand out his grip and gave him a rather chilly look. "Well, hi there, Lon'qu."
"We need to talk," he simply said, slowly retracting his hand.
She felt weak. Pushing her shoulder hard into the wall beside her, she quietly berated, "Oh, really? Do we now? Are you going to put in your resignation? Pass me off to someone else now?"
His solemn expression turned to one of confusion. "Wait, what?"
"You made it pretty obvious the other day that I annoy you, Lon'qu. Now, go ahead and just do it already. I'm going to eat something. I'm going to pass out if I don't eat," she said. Lissa started to walk around him, wondering if she could clip him with her shoulder as she did, or if that would be too obvious.
He moved back in front of her. "What are you talking about?" Lon'qu asked. Lissa attempted to move around him again, but the tall, stupid man held an arm out, blocking her. "You could explain that instead of walking away, woman."
"'Quit pestering me,'" she quoted, glowering at him. "Isn't that what you said to me? So this is me not pestering you. Let me into the kitchen. I'm not joking about the fainting bit."
He stepped aside. "Fine, but we need to talk."
"If I'm so annoying, why do you want to talk to me?" Lissa asked, aggravated.
"When did I say that? Lon'qu questioned. His voice was so calm; how could he be so levelheaded? Lissa felt ready to knock a hole in the wall.
"You…" she racked her brain, coming up empty. "You didn't. Not that exact word, no. But what happened there two days ago? Your sword broke, and I…" Lissa trailed off, shoving her shoulder harder into the wall. The lance was in her face again. There was the tip. Instead of hungry, she felt nauseous. "I almost died," she finished as her voice died to the tiniest whisper.
Lon'qu was quiet. She looked up, and deep guilt, accompanied by that strange pain, lined his features. "Lon'qu," Lissa said, in an attempt to grab his attention. He didn't look at her; her chest constricted. "What's hurting you?"
"...I will tell you. But you need to eat," he said, his eyes closed. "Go into the kitchen."
Lissa obliged. The kitchen was almost devoid of human presence, for it was just past the lunch time cleanup. She grabbed a roll, slathered it in butter, and snagged a mug and filled it to the brim with water. Emerging from the kitchen, she watched Lon'qu, eyes closed and his back resting against the wall. There were dark circles under his eyes; something had kept him from sleeping during these past two days, much like Lissa's sleep was pervaded by a lance in her face and harsh voices in her ears. "Lon'qu," she whispered. He opened his eyes to Lissa standing there and watching him with a sense of anxiousness. "Let's...go to my room. No one bothers me there. Ever."
Once there, Lissa settled on her bed. The roll smelled so sweet; it was still just a touch warm, and the butter had melted into the crevices. She took a huge bite and swallowed it before remembering Lon'qu was there with her. Stupid hunger brain, she thought sheepishly. Lon'qu stood awkwardly, avoiding either the bed that had been set up for him or any other comfortable horizontal surface. "You can sit down, you know."
"I wondered if you would even let me," he admitted.
Lissa rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm mad doesn't mean you can't sit down. Park it, buddy."
He did as he was told, sitting on the very extreme edge of Lissa's bed, as though he was a scolded schoolchild in for a bereavement from the headmaster. Lissa sighed. "You don't have to be uncomfortable. Just...scoot up a little more."
Lon'qu scooted a fraction of an inch toward Lissa. I give up, Lissa thought with a sigh. She jammed the rest of the roll in her mouth—a la chipmunk or squirrel—and quickly finished it, swallowing and regretting the tight feeling in her throat from eating bread too rapidly. After drinking to eradicate the feeling, she angled herself toward Lon'qu. "Now that I won't pass out and dash my head open on anything, would you like to tell me what's hurting? Especially if it's something you've gone two days without letting a healer look at," she added, a hint of threat in her voice.
"It isn't a physical wound. I promise you that," Lon'qu said, his words slow and reluctant.
"Well, good. If you ever pull that on me I'd give you a new wound to match whatever you were hiding," she said. The words didn't draw a smile from Lon'qu, and she sighed. "Lon'qu, what is it that's bothering you? You can tell me. I might talk up a storm, but I don't share other people's secrets."
"I gathered that," Lon'qu responded. Lissa smiled a little at this. Bracing her palms on her knees, she looked at him expectantly. He glanced at her with a sigh. "Woman, what do you expect from me? I already broke in here to see you."
"You what?"
"The boy guarding the door to the kitchen said he had to 'check with captain Phila' and then never returned. He left the door unlocked, and I waited for him to come back. He did not. So I entered," Lon'qu remarked, his voice humorless.
Lissa snorted. "You're a regular deviant, Lon'qu. Such a troublemaker." Realizing that he may have been trying to distract her, she returned to a more serious expression. "Come on, Lon'qu. Enough of the mental gymnastics. What's going on here?"
He seemed conflicted. Lissa waited, albeit with some impatience, for him to speak. He gazed at his hands—those broad, strong hands that Lissa loved—and sighed. "My childhood friend is dead because of me."
He hated that look on Lissa's face. That shock that dissolved into sympathy. Lon'qu didn't desire her sympathy...or anyone else's for that matter. "Lon'qu, what do you mean?" she asked. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the mug in her hands.
It was hard enough, saying that. To even mention Ke'ri...her name shouldn't have even passed his lips. But here, in the quiet seclusion of Lissa's bedroom, it was easier to speak of. He'd mentioned her once, to Vaike, telling him about a friend he'd tussled with in the streets of Chon'sin's slums. Now, for some reason, words began spilling from his mouth. "My best friend when I was growing up was a girl named Ke'ri. Our families were dirt poor. It was common knowledge that we lived in the bad part of town. Whenever we could, we'd leave the city and catch bugs, wrestle, and complain about our parents. We did this past an age most children would."
Lissa was enraptured, gazing at him with huge eyes. Ke'ri used to do the same thing, draw her knees under her chin and listen to his stories—at the time, stories filled with grandeur and childhood falsehoods—with serious eyes. Lon'qu, realizing he was too far into his story to stop now, continued. "We would have been around the age of twelve. We took a picnic outside of the city limits. I remember how proud we were, stealing extra food from our parents without their noticing. That was so short-lived."
"What happened?" Lissa asked, her voice tiny.
"There were thugs. Violent, awful men. They attacked us. Ke'ri was always so much braver and stronger. She took them on with the knife she brought to cut bread and slice the pear she brought," he said. His voice hitched in this throat. There was no way in hell that he would cry, not in front of Lissa. This wound is so old; it would be embarrassing. He took a deep breath before he continued. "I was frozen for what felt like hours I was afraid. I couldn't move. They were cutting her. Hurting her. By the time I came around and tried to help, it was too late. Nothing I did would save her. She told me to run. And I did. If I had moved as quickly as she had, we might have both made it," he finished.
The room was oppressively silent. Lon'qu hunched over, his elbows digging into his thighs. As he did every day since the one he lost his friend, he thought, I am so sorry, Ke'ri.
Lissa gazed at him over her knees. "You froze that night because you felt helpless."
"Yes," he managed to say.
"It's…" she trailed off. Unfolding herself from her cramped little position she scooted closer to him. "It's a very old wound. I don't think my staff can help that one."
"Probably not," Lon'qu said very quietly.
They sat silently for a while. Lon'qu was grateful for it. He didn't want her sympathy, and she knew that. She read people so very well; if only he would just stop pushing her away. Minutes passed, and Lissa broke the silence with a sigh. "Is that why you fear women?" she asked.
"That is the root of it," he admitted.
Lissa gazed at him. The corner of her mouth twitched oddly before she said, "If it had been some nasty, evil woman, that would've made this a lot easier. I could've thrown an axe really badly at her to make her atone for her sins."
Lon'qu's mouth quirked, in spite of the foul feelings swirling inside of him, and Lissa laughed. He turned and watched her face. Her face was so kind, always so very kind. Even when she was angry or scared, her features still glowed with that undercurrent of kindness. "Thank you," he said, interrupting her laughter. "And I'm sorry. For snapping at you," he added.
"So I'm not annoying, then?" she asked, nudging him with her elbow.
"Only if you are very obviously choosing to be," he responded sincerely.
Lissa chuckled and reclined, closing her eyes. A sunbeam poured through the window, making her pale blonde hair glow nearly white. "That...is really a load off of my mind. I thought you were just really sick of me or something. Glad to know you're not," she remarked.
The sun really had a lulling effect. Though he felt swamped by negative emotion yet, he felt his eyes droop. Exhausted, he decided. Tentatively, he closed his eyes against the sun, almost already feeling drawn in by the prospect of sleep. "Hey," Lissa murmured, causing him to open an eye to look at her. "Lay down. You look beat. You've been carrying a lot for a long time, so sleep now."
He didn't have it in himself to argue. The myrmidon flopped onto his side on the bed, not even bothering to remove his sword belt or anything else. Sleep was quickly dragging him under—how easy it was, when Lissa was around! How easy it was to relax. He wondered when it had happened, when his fear of women had given way to how much he simply appreciated her. Lon'qu decided, just as sleep overtook him, that he wouldn't allow what happened to Ke'ri to happen to her. Not again. Never again. No one is going to harm her ever, as long as I'm here, was his last coherent thought that drifted through his brain.
That nap would be the first one—in a long time—that he did not dream of Ke'ri.
Emmeryn hadn't seen her sister for most of the afternoon. Walking through the streets of Ylisstol certainly had carved a large chunk of time out of Emmeryn's afternoon, but Lissa hadn't approached her at all, like she had yesterday or the night after the assassination attempt. "I do hope she's alright," she mentioned to Phila, as she gazed at the sprawl of Ylisstol from the top of the wall surrounding the castle. "I really doubt that she has slept or eaten much since that attack. She was working night and day to keep her patients from bleeding out."
"Perhaps she's catching up on sleep, then. All five of your staff members with severe injuries are no longer so touch and go. Lady Maribelle told me that the few who had been cut open will likely be healthy enough to return to light work within a few weeks," Phila remarked. "However, I do hope Lissa joins you for dinner tonight, though. Nourishment is as important as a good night's rest, if not more so."
Emmeryn chuckled lightly, although her heart felt black with the pain of those who had given up their health and safety to protect her. "Bless her. Should something ever happen to Chrom and me, she would be an excellent Exalt."
"Now, Milady, that may be a bit of a stretch—" Phila started, but Emmeryn cut her off with a wave of her hand.
With a gentle smile, she turned to Phila. "I have to think about these things, about what is best for our people. Lissa has a good heart, and she is so very tireless. With the help of advisors, she would do a splendid job as Exalt."
Phila shrugged noncommittally. "If you say so, my lady."
The sound of feet pounding up the stone stairs brought Emmeryn and Phila's attention to a scrawny guard—he was no older than sixteen, with one arm tucked awkwardly to his side and the other arm cradling a throwing axe. "Captain Phila! I forgot to ask, but is that bloke from Chon'sin who works for Regna Ferox but currently works for us allowed in the castle?" he asked. "I meant to ask hours ago, but Frederick thought I was idling about when I was looking for you and made me go see a healer for my arm."
Phila seemed to stagger under the information. "Excuse me? Would you be talking about Lon'qu, Lissa's personal guard?"she asked slowly.
"Oh! See? I meant to ask about that, but Frederick sent me straight to that scary Maribelle girl so she could repair my arm. It's been itching like crazy since," he said, holding it up as if to show his skin crawling from the healing. "So, he's good, right?"
Phila nodded slowly. "Yes. Lon'qu is allowed in here."
"I'll go tell him—wait a minute! He's probably been waiting out there for hours for me to let him in so he could go talk to Princess Lissa! I'm sorry, Mr. Lonky You! " the boy took off.
Emmeryn glanced to Phila. "You will never hear me say this again, Phila, so I hope you remember it well," Emmeryn started. With a deep sigh, she simply said, "What the hell."
Phila's cheeks turned pink. "He is not my charge. I don't know what the head of the guard was thinking when he hired that boy. I am so very sorry."
"I really do hope that Mr. 'Lonky You' found Lissa, then," Emmeryn remarked, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles.
Phila couldn't help but snort herself. "I hope so as well," she remarked with a laugh.
A/N: Hello. I've decided to front-load this story before my semester gets out of hand. After getting the syllabi for a few more classes today...well...I'd rather work on this while I still have time (and inspiration), since the honey-moon phase lasts at least another week and a half lol.
The young, stupid guard is based pretty hardcore off of one of my older brothers and my little brother. I hope the Mars brother-inspired comic relief was enough to lighten up this chapter! There are some heavier themes being explored, so I thought this character would be necessary.
Lon'qu being kind of awkward honestly is my favorite thing to write. This is my first time writing for Fire Emblem, as I had mentioned, and I really REALLY enjoy writing awkward Lon'qu. Especially when he feels "irritated".
Lissa had her awkward "Do I bump into them and pretend it was an accident but really I'm just being a jerk?" moment this chapter. Lon'qu is totally rubbing off on her now. That's it. They have to get married and have a kid with a twitchy sword hand that everyone kind of half-bullies and adores in their heart of hearts. #ShowOwainRespect2k16
Now, logistics/stupid personal Fire Emblem feelings.
I'm thinking now that this will be 10ish chapters long. I'm no longer giving absolutes. I'm so capricious. Someone stop me already.
Also...please don't hurt me...but I don't really like Chrom that much. He's kind of a boring character. He's kind of a Gary Stu (Poppy, if you're out there and reading this, I'm sorry for using you word). You know. Like a Mary Sue. I remember Lucina saying something about how he was acting kind of arrogant at Arena Ferox, but really? He has personality other than perfect pretty prince boy? Lolllllllllllll. Sorry. Rant over. I'm trash. OKAY NO IT'S NOT YOU KNOW WHAT BOTHERS ME? HE REFERS TO HIS WIFE AS "FRIEND". LIKE HE'LL SAY "THANKS FRIEND". EXCUSE YOU THAT IS THE WOMAN WHO BORE/WILL BEAR YOU CHILDREN SHE IS MORE THAN A FRIEND, MR. CHROMBONE. PLEASE PM ME IF YOU UNDERSTAND MY FEELS, OR WOULD ALSO LIKE TO HEAR MORE SHITTY HEADCANONS BECAUSE I HAVE A BOATLOAD.
Also I am not really a supporter of Chrobin. I always marry someone different, and the one time I was married off to Chrom when I tried to marry Lon'qu was heartbreaking for me. Also...Lucina/Gerome. Not Lucina/Inigo. Lucina is too good for him I'm so sorry.
I'm gonna sign off here. Review, PM me if you'd like to hear my shitpost versions of Chrom headcanons, and favorite this story maybe if you really are enjoying it. Goodnight, friends!