As soon as the Shepherds started to retreat, Lucina crept from her vantage point, hoping to get to the Dragon's Table to stand guard in case the Emblem somehow fell out of Father's hands.

That proved to be an impossible task, for hundreds of Plegians came charging from the castle. There was no doubt they were out to torch Ylisse and further weaken its military. Once again, Lucina's plans were foiled by fate.

/

By the time she made it past the border, it was dusk of the next day. Lucina found lodging in the branches of a tree near a river. She was completely and utterly spent from her frantic retreat. It was humiliating, and no one had even been around to see her. Climbing the tree was hard enough, so she used her sword belt as a fastener to keep herself from falling. At least if any Plegians came by she would see and hear them first, and if they decided to set fire anywhere nearby, the river was only a few paces away.

With some semblance of peace, she tried to ponder why her attempts at saving this world had failed. Lucina was certain that her mission was to prevent Aunt Emmeryn's death, as the war with Plegia had broken out shortly thereafter. Now, it appeared the war had started less than one month later. It was a simple concept: save the Exalt and the fell dragon won't come back. Either fate was unchangeable or she was mistaken. And Naga did Lucina hope she was mistaken.

Clearly, saving her aunt was no longer an option, much to her despair. The poor woman had done nothing to deserve such a demise. Once again, she felt responsible for the death of an innocent person, a family member no less. With a frustrated, despondent groan, she slammed the side of the tree with her fist. The shockwaves traveling up her arm cleared her fatigued mind. She was trying to make as little ripples in time as possible! What was wrong with her method? Wasn't that the whole point? Surely Lucina was not supposed to proclaim to the whole world she was from another time…right?

"Naga, what am I to do?" It was an empty question; she did not expect an answer from the divine dragon. Getting angry with Naga would not change anything in any case. Still, Lucina bitterly wished the dragon had given more specific instructions.

But she had – it all came rushing back – just before leaving her universe, Lucina recalled Naga saying that Father had been killed by his closest friend. Perhaps she was sent back so far to determine whom the suspect was and apprehend him or her. It would take some time, because Father had many dear friends, most of who were in the Shepherds. The question was: how would she be able to figure who it was while keeping her distance?

Before she could answer her own enlightening inquiry, her eyes began to fall shut. Lucina was past her limit and before she could register what was happening, she was asleep.

/

When Lucina awoke, she found that her body was tight and aching; no doubt from her position on the branch. The morning light was harsh on her sleepy eyes. Her stomach growled and her mouth was dry. First things first. With stiff fingers, she untied herself from the tree and cautiously made her way to the forest floor. The short distance to the river seemed excruciatingly long.

When she approached the riverbank, she surveyed the area to ensure there was no debris flowing down the liquid path that would taint the fresh water. Starting a fire to boil water would give away her location to any ill-meaning barbarians. Seeing nothing malignant, Lucina greedily scooped her hands into the river and drank until she felt she was going to burst. It was a wonderful feeling – the cold water soothed her parched body. Her thirst quenched for the time being, she stared into the water's surface. To Lucina's chagrin, she looked quite haggard – her hair was tangled and her face looked gaunt and was covered with dirt. The gold circlet on her head no longer had its polished sheen. There was an almost wild look in her eyes from hunger. While she did not place as much value on being considered beautiful like Severa did, she did like to be presentable.

After a refreshing rinse, there was the ever-present issue of finding a meal. While hunting sounded like a deliciously tempting option, foraging was the more prudent method, and, the Ylissean forest was still lush unlike in her past. Within minutes, Lucina had gathered up a large number of berries and grasses she knew to be edible.

Feeling somewhat renewed, she could continue deciphering the ambiguous task she had been charged with. It was hard to let her original hypothesis go – she had been absolutely certain that Aunt Emmeryn's survival was the key to salvation, yet all the evidence pointed to a resounding negative. Of course, the answers to such delicate and arduous missions did not lie within the orders – no, the answers were to be found between official statements. Naga had indeed given her a clue, a meager scrap of information that actually possessed the solution: save Father's life at all costs so that he may perform the Awakening. For the sake of her argument, Lucina believed it was safe to assume that this timeline still held all five gemstones, unlike her own.

The real setback was how she was going to go about keeping Father safe without giving herself away. She would have to follow the Shepherds around, that was for sure, but then she might be too late to intervene if the unexpected happened. Tailing the Shepherds had to be the right plan of action, because every path led her to her parents and their little army. It made sense – whenever Lucina resolved to search for her lost companions, something prevented her from doing so, like an invisible hand was guiding her in the desired direction. As much as she did not want to admit it, her mission took priority over her friends, and it made Lucina feel downright awful.

Peering down the river that eventually flowed to Ylisstol, Lucina's mind was made up. Surely the Shepherds would go and drive out the invading Plegians from the capital. With the path determined, she began the lengthy journey back to her home city.

/

Lucina lost count of the days she spent trekking, getting lost in a landscape that was so familiar, yet so new. It was when she passed towns and villages in shambles that she picked up her pace. A few unfortunate Plegians met justice by Falchion's might when they crossed Lucina's path, but it would be impossible to go after every single invader. Some members of the Ylissean Guard were working on fighting them off with the aid of able-bodied villagers. Though it strained Lucina's every instinct, she could not take detours to lend aid to the settlements. All she could do was set her jaw and forge onward.

/

When Ylisstol finally came into view, Lucina was alarmed at the many columns of dark smoke winding their ways into the air. It was high noon, so the tar colored fumes stood out against the blue Ylissean sky. She was further perplexed when she did not see the Shepherds defending the city. Only royal knights and townspeople could be seen offering any resistance.

Lucina dove right into the heat of the maelstrom, taking advantage of the crowded streets to hide Falchion's form. She was quite sure the inhabitants of Ylisstol knew what Falchion looked like from any distance. While the violence raging about her was nothing compared to the horrors she had seen in her world, it still brought images of blood trickling down the cobblestone paths and the cries of the wounded and dying to her mind.

Leaving a trail of bodies in her wake, she cut and slashed her way closer to the ever-elegant palace. No matter where and when she was, Lucina would always see that marbled castle as her home. With that sentiment came the overpowering drive to protect it. Pushing past the tiredness in her body, she kept whirling and stabbing as she went.

Breaking through a particularly packed intersection into a narrower path, she took a moment to catch her breath. Lucina hadn't the time to think about the human lives she just ended. If she did, she would lament at the waste of precious life. All she would allow herself to focus on was the task at hand.

"Bwahaha! The old man still has some fight in him!" a gruff voice thick with a Plegian accent reached her ears. Resting could wait – an old man needed protection.

Rounding a corner, Lucina spotted a crowd of axe and sword-wielding warriors encircling someone – the old man, she garnered.

"I may be over the hill, but you children should leave before I have to teach you a lesson." The elderly man's voice was rough, like he had smoked pipes his whole life.

There was a burst of callous laughter. "Ha! Men, this weak soul thinks he can beat the six of us?" A chorus of grunts sounded around the circle. "All right, you old sack of bones, we'll make this quick." The lead man raised his bloodied weapon and brought it down hard. A sharp clang and a shower of sparks followed the strike. Lucina could make out the tip of a long silvery sword over the top of the men's heads…apparently, the obscured "old sack of bones" had easily parried.

"What?" the Plegian seemed stunned before a quick and savage blow to his head knocked him over, his temple clearly caved in. Finally, Lucina saw whom the Plegians were assaulting. They were partially right – the man had white hair coated in soot, with a thick stained apron and thick clothes. He was not too tall or too short, his build was average at best, and his posture was that of someone who spent much of his time hunched over his work. Judging by the sword in one hand and a small, compact hammer that was not intended for combat, Lucina drew the conclusion that the elderly man was a blacksmith.

One of the Plegians took over as leader. "Kill 'im!" The rest of the assailants closed in, and Lucina spurred into action.

Running one man through with her blade, she was able to get to the blacksmith's side. She ducked in time to dodge a swing from his metal-forming hammer. "Hold! I am a friend!" she yelped.

The blacksmith paused for a split of an instant before nodding and turning his back. Taking the cue, Lucina touched her own back to his and they soundly vanquished the enemy. Before they could claim victory, more Plegians came storming down the alleyway. She mentally braced herself for more fighting, using every ounce of willpower to hold her ground.

However, it did not take long to realize that the Plegians were not charging to attack, but rather to get away. They rushed past without a second glance. Cheers started roaring up from all directions.

"The Shepherds!" came the collective voice of the people. "We're saved!"

Finally, she thought. Relaxing and sheathing her sword, Lucina turned to the elderly blacksmith to check his overall condition. She was surprised when he spoke first.

"You fight well, for a youngster." He said begrudgingly as he faced her. Lucina instinctively looked away, for fear of her Brand being seen. It was foolish of her to stay behind and chat! He would definitely notice her blue hair! When he made no comment, she took a chance and made eye contact. Upon closer inspection, she saw that his face was leathery, heavily scarred, and his eyes were a milky blue. He was blind.

"T-thank you, er," she kept herself from sighing with relief.

"Ferrous." He supplied.

"Ferrous." She repeated. "You handle a sword excellently." It was a stupid remark; of course a blacksmith would know his way around a sword – or any other weapon for that matter!

Ferris laughed. "Yes, I suppose I do…for a blind man. Isn't that what you were going to say?"

"No, sir, I had no idea,"

"Say no more. I know it's a natural assumption to think a blind old man would not be able to lift his tools." There was a pause, like he was contemplating something. "For helping me defend my forge, I shall craft you a weapon. First, show me your sword; I can tell you use one by the sound it makes when it hits other objects…or people."

Lucina tensed. If she handed him Falchion, the blade would go dull in his hands – plus he was likely the man who re-crafted its pommel and hilt for her father's father. In other words, he would surely recognize the fabled blade. Frantically searching around, she plucked a sword from a dead Plegian's corpse. It was made of iron, so she supposed it would suffice. With a half-prayer, she gave him the weapon.

Swapping it in both his hands and running his calloused fingertips along the flat of the sword, he frowned. "This is a piece of shit! How were you able to make it sing so well?" He muttered some things to himself before a dry smile turned his lips upwards. "You must have a better sword you do not wish for me to see. I respect the secrets of other craftsmen. Nevertheless, I will make you a sample of my own work. May I have your name?"

Well, Lucina argued with herself, the name of her ancestor served her excellently this whole time – it would have to do so once more. "My name is Marth." She said with as much familiarity with the name as she could muster. It was strange; after being called by that title for so long, she thought she would have lost her attachment to her given one, but she hadn't.

Ferrous looked amused, but not puzzled, as Lucina would have guessed he would have been. "Marth? That's a strong name. You're a woman, no?"

"I am," she replied, her guard going up. There was always the issue of gender… "Is there something wrong?"

He chuckled. "No, no, there isn't. A few years ago I may have thought differently, but one day a young noble girl came to my forge demanding a lance. I voiced my own initial opposition, but she cursed me out unlike any other man I'd ever met. I made her what she requested, and now she fights at Prince Chrom's side. Or should I say, Exalt Chrom?" Lucina could tell whom Ferrous was referencing: Lady Sully, Kjelle's mother. Indeed, she was a crude woman, but a well-oiled warrior.

"I see. I'm glad to hear you think that way."

"Yes. Enough about my personal beliefs! Come, give me your hands." Ferrous held his own hands out expectantly.

"My hands?"

"Yes! I cannot see you, but your palms can tell me in half a minute what would take my eyes a good ten!"

Without further questioning, Lucina did as she was told. The skin on Ferrous' hands was so thick and scarred, she wondered if he could feel much of anything at all. Still, she watched as his fingers traced her own hardened palms and as he mapped out the lay of her hands.

He gave a grunt of approval. "As I expected – you've been trained from when you were but a tyke! I can tell you use both your hands to wield your weapon, but you favor your right. I take it this is for when you lunge? Ah, that means you've learned from a noble family. Only the wealthy would deign to strike so honorably. Are you of high-born descent?"

The accuracy of his statements was stunning. "You could say that."

"I can also gather you're on the thinner side. Your fingers are rather slender…better not let anything happen to them or else you can kiss your swordplay farewell." At that, Lucina felt herself flush. Was she that scrawny and puny?

"I suppose I take after my mother." It was true. Mother was also slender, though she never appeared feeble in any way. She had muscle on her, and when she had her Grandmaster's armor on, her figure became androgynous. Morgan's body leaned towards Father's, although he had a lanky look about him. Morgan…shaking her head free from the rush of emotion, Lucina waited for Ferrous' conclusion.

"I think a rapier will serve you well. Where do you live so I can have it delivered when I complete it?"

Blast. Then there was the matter of lodging… "Er, you see, my family has disowned me because I refused to marry."

"That's odd. They teach you to fight yet expect you to settle for a randomly picked soul?" He seemed thoroughly perplexed. "Bah, what business of mine is it? Do you have somewhere to stay?"

She shook her head. Suddenly remembering that Ferrous could not see, she replied, "No, I came here in search of a new house. My family's mansion is a short distance from the palace."

"I suppose you can live in the hut my apprentices used to occupy. It's behind my house." For a blind man, he knew the street very well. Turning to properly face his forge, he pointed out the squared off yard behind the structure.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"If you would run my errands and cook our meals, I would call it a fair trade." Ferrous said evenly. Cooking was not something Lucina excelled at. Both of her parents were not anywhere near being called master chefs – something Lucina was not, either. But, she would do her best to earn her keep.

"It's a deal." And so, Lucina acquired a base for watching the Shepherds. As much as she wanted to join the throngs of people celebrating outside, she had to tend to her wounds and other business to conceal her presence.

/

Over the next weeks, the Ylissean people worked at rebuilding and restoring the country to its former peaceful state. Lucina's heart bloomed with happiness when the royal wedding was announced. Her parents of this world were getting married, and she knew the Lucina of this world would come shortly after. It was an alien idea, but the future infant was a source of motivation. Lucina very much wanted the babe to grow up surrounded by love and a bright path ahead of her.

In order to assimilate into the masses, Lucina had purchased simple women's clothing and a bonnet along with some new boots, tunics, and trousers. She had also trimmed her blue locks a bit; to her shoulders, and burned whatever she cut off to reduce the chance of being suspected. When she folded her original garments in a nearly reverent manner and hid them under her bed, she wondered when she would have need of them next.

Her shared meals with Ferrous were always filled with sage advice and witty humor. The elderly man was well learned and spoke fondly of his grown son, who had gone off in search of new forging techniques. He also showed great emotion when he talked about his deceased wife, who he loved very dearly. Fortunately, Ferrous seemed to like her cooking, which she found to taste like either ash or tasteless lumps of wood. Still, it felt good to eat meat again. No matter how it was prepared, Lucina promised herself she would never take the luxury of meat for granted.

As Lucina looked at herself in the cracked mirror of the apprentices' hut, she noticed that her face was no longer as ghostly looking. She had put on a little weight, which she knew was beneficial. Pain spread through her lower belly, and it came to her: she'd missed her monthly bloods for a long while. She had forgotten she was considered a woman – in body, at least, even though she'd had to hide it for a little while. Lucina almost welcomed the feeling. Almost.

With all of the good developments going on around her, Lucina constantly thought of her friends. Eventually, she came to the supposition that everyone would set his or her sights on Ylisstol, as it was home and was the best bet at finding help. She was bound to the city to keep an eye on Father. Her companions were strong – they would survive whatever the universe threw in their path. Perhaps they too would be guided by whatever forces had led Lucina to the right answer. For a time, Lucina was filled with hope.

/

Three months of anticipation was suddenly brought to a grinding halt. The queen had announced she was with child, and the people were exuberant. There had been rumors that she had been getting ill, and then news spread like wildfire that she'd lost the growing infant.

Lucina was confused and guilt gnawed at her insides. Yes, the conception had been early – too early for the baby to be born on her birthday, but Lucina couldn't shake the idea that her being in the present timeline might have had a hand in the loss of the potential child. The local gossips pointed their collective finger at a Grimleal curse the royal couple must have picked up in Plegia. All she could do was anticipate another pregnancy announcement.

Another announcement did come, four months later. The people held their breath in the beginning, but after the three-month mark, they stopped worrying so much and clamored for a glimpse at their queen. Lucina laughed to herself – was this what is was like in her time? Father was fiercely protective of Mother, and vice versa. Even so, they often spent time among the Ylisseans.

It was during this period that Ferrous completed the weapon he had promised her.

"Marth!" He called one sunny morning. His voice was gruff as always, making it sound as if he were perpetually angry.

Running from the yard where she tested his creations, Lucina entered the forge. She was covered in sweat, and the heat from the iron furnace did not help one iota. When she saw a long wrapped parcel in Ferrous' hands, her curiosity was piqued.

"Yes?"

He proudly thrust the package forward. "I've finished your rapier. It's my finest work, if I do say so myself." Ferrous was not an overly prideful man, but he believed in giving praise where it was due. He had even helped Lucina keep her form up to par by listening to the timing between her swings and footfalls.

Taking the covered sword with a sense of anxious excitement, she gingerly unfolded the cloth. The scabbard was a gleaming black shaft of metal, inlaid with rolling gold swirls. The hilt of the rapier was a thin cross, iconic of the style common in Ylisse. The sword's pommel was also slim, wrapped in tight red leather. Sliding the rapier free, the newly forged steel caught the red and orange hues of the flames from the furnace. Lucina immediately took note of the weight of the blade – it felt heavier than Falchion, which was strange because Falchion was wider and around as long. She attributed Falchion's feel to the fact it was a sacred weapon. But there was something different about this new sword: there was a neutral aura about it. With Falchion, Lucina felt as if the ancient blade had judged her from the moment she had taken hold of it, comparing her to her ancestors who had wielded it before her. Then there were some times when Lucina could have sworn that Falchion had defied her, like there was a rift between her will and what the outcome was. With this newly forged weapon, she felt like it was a clean slate, waiting for someone to put his or her own energy into it.

Ferrous gave a throaty chortle. "I know, I know, you're awestruck by the craftsmanship! But, you mustn't stand there like the town idiot – now go and learn its nature!" he made shooing motions with his hands.

Following instructions, she walked back outside. Lucina made to parry an imaginary foe, and then lunged, thrusting the rapier through the air. It was definitely different. She had to hold herself more in order to withstand the unfamiliar weight. As much as it made her sound like a spoiled princess, Lucina clandestinely favored Falchion for its relative lightness for its size. Even so, the new rapier was a magnificent product of a lifetime of training.

She spent a few more hours getting used to the blade, learning which moves worked best with it and deducing that slashing was not the best movement for it. It was good that it was heavier; Lucina could use some more strength and endurance. With her new rapier, she could go walking with a weapon that wasn't Falchion. It wasn't that the streets of Ylisstol weren't safe (the crime reports were considerably less since Father came back and offered more control); it was more along the lines of that Lucina felt vulnerable without a sword strapped to her side.

/

Months passed by without any real trouble. Lucina made daily trips to the marketplace near the palace to gather any gossip and general information about her parents. It appeared that for the time being, leaving Ylisstol was not a possibility.

As she walked through the crowded streets, a royal crier pushed his way to the middle of the masses.

"Here ye, here ye!" He bellowed. Not many people paid him attention. "A princess has been born this day!" That earned the interest from the people.

Whispers and shouts of the news began spreading through Ylisstol, and Lucina guessed it would take five minutes to reach those living at the walls of the city. Pushing her way through the sea of bodies, she stood in front of the crier, a burning question in her mind. It was true the year was premature by three years, but Lucina had an inkling that everything happened earlier due to her interference with the Feroxi tournament and her warning about the assassination plot.

"Pardon, but do you know the child's name?" She asked earnestly.

"The Exalt and the queen have dubbed the girl Lucina." The man recited the name from memory.

"And may I ask what day it is?"

"Aye. 'Tis the twentieth day of the fourth month."

"Thank you." She dipped her head in thanks. As she continued on with Ferrous' errands, it dawned on her that it was her birthday. She was of age…not that it mattered anymore. She wouldn't be able to join Ylissean noble society nor could she have any of the privileges that came with turning sixteen years old. Lucina was out of place in this world. When she thought about it, she knew it was a small sacrifice to pay in order to save a whole existence.

With the years Lucina knew to be ones of unrest now ruffled, she was at a loss as to what was going to happen next. There was hope in her heart that the business with Grima was resolved, that her mission was finally over.

Things were never that simple.

Lucina could never shun the rational part of her conscience. As much as she hoped that fate was changed for good, another part of her viciously protested the notion. There was no definite proof! Without the proper evidence, she would be lulled into a false sense of security, and that could end up costing her everything. Hope was a delicate emotion indeed. It could keep one going, but at the same time it could blind one until the illusion cracked and then there would be nothing.

For the time being, Lucina resolved to maintain her vigil over her parents and the new baby who shared her name and upon whom she placed her wishes for a childhood that should have been. The infant in the castle was a source of energy for Lucina, but also a well of jealousy. She could not help but feel a gnawing in her heart, that whenever the name "Lucina" was called in the palace, whoever uttered the name would never be referring to her. It was a terrible and selfish thought, and Lucina reprimanded herself for even allowing the idea to pass through her head. She supposed it was human nature…to think that she was the only "Lucina" to ever exist, that she was entitled to have her parents' attention and to only have to share that love with Morgan. I am of age now, and if it were to mean only one thing to me, it must be that I am an adult, and no longer need my parents fussing over me. She told herself sharply, shoving sweet memories down into the depths of her mind. Lucina continuously wished good fortune on the new family in the palace, even though it caused a sharp twinge in her chest to do so.

She had no way of predicting what would come next.

/

And that's chapter seven! Up next, we'll merge back into the main plot of the game. I would like to focus this fic on what goes on in between certain parts of the game, but I'm trying to bend the main story as little as possible. I don't know if that has worked so well. Thanks for reading this chapter!