"Chrom."

He heard her call his name, but it sounded far away, as though he were in a bubble.

"Chrom, please."

He bent over, placing his hands on his knees. His boots sank into the mud, dotted with growing puddles of rainwater. The rain fell at a steady pace, dripping off his hair and down his face, mingling indiscriminately with his tears.

Then she grabbed his face, her soft hands cupping his chin firmly, moving his head up. "We have to go."

Chrom's senses returned to the present. His vision focused on Elysa, and then past her, where the others were either mounted on their respective beasts or sitting atop a wooden wagon. Basilio stood on the front seat, next to the driver, a pink-haired girl dressed in white dancer's clothes.

"Move it, boy!" Basilio bellowed. Elysa grabbed his arm, and pulled with all her might. He staggered forwards, and Flavia and Vaike yanked him up into the wagon.

The rain persisted even as they pulled into Regna Ferox. The wagon parked in the courtyard by the stables, and the others were quick about getting inside to shelter and warmth. Elysa stood to follow them, but glanced back at Chrom. He was still seated, his elbows resting on his knees, head bent.

"Milady," Frederick offered her his hand. "Give him a moment to himself."

Lissa sniffled, moving past the knight. "Princess, you'll catch a cold out here," Lon'qu said quietly, placing a hand on Lissa's back as he ushered her inside rather than wait for her brother – an unusually tender act for the typically cold swordsman. Lissa looked up at Chrom once more, and opened her mouth to say something, but instead turned away, following Lon'qu into the building.

Elysa took Frederick's offered hand, and began to step down from the wagon, but she felt a tug. Surprised, she looked over her shoulder. Chrom had his hand on the hem of her cloak. He pressed his eyes shut tightly before looking up at her.

"Elysa… Wait," he said hoarsely. "...you can go, Frederick."

Frederick obediently released Elysa's hand, after making sure she had firm footing, and gave them a small bow before wordlessly heading after Lissa and Lon'qu.

Chrom released her cloak, and she sat back down, across from him. She pulled the edges of her hood a little further around her face in an effort to shield herself from the rain, and folded her hands in her lap.

"Chrom, I… I'm so sorry. I wasn't... I couldn't—"

"You did your best, Elysa," Chrom said, looking up at her. His eyes were slightly reddened, and he drew a shuddering breath. "And you have my thanks. You came back to us at our time of need, and… and it is only my own failures that I have to blame. Gods…" He bent his head again, his fist clenching in frustration. "I was so powerless!"

"It was not your fault," Elysa said insistently.

Chrom shook his head. "She... She did it for me, Elysa. So that I wouldn't have to live with the guilt of choosing her or the Emblem, she chose for me. She sacrificed herself rather than give up what could one day save her people... For a 'what if' situation." He clenched his fist.

Elysa hesitated for a second, then reached out to gently cover his tensed hands with hers. "Chrom," she said quietly. "Listen to me. Look at me." He looked into her dark grey eyes.

"I was powerless once, too; when you found me in the field. Powerless… and alone. And maybe neither you nor I are half the person Emmeryn was, but I... I'll be your strength. I'm sorry that I left before."

"I didn't want you to," Chrom said, an edge in his voice.

"I know, and neither did I, but I thought… I thought maybe it was for the best."

"Why?"

Elysa's breath hitched, and she shook her head. "I don't— I don't think now is the time to get into that." She squeezed his hand. "But I promise you: I'll do everything in my power to show you that you are not powerless. If you fall, I'll be there to pull you back up. When you fight for your sister's ideals, I'll be by your side. You don't have to become your sister, you know. You can still be true to yourself. You just have to give people hope in whatever way you can."

"And what if I can't?" He asked, his voice hollow. "What if I'm not worthy of her ideals? Elysa... what if I drag you down with me?"

"You'll keep at it until you are worthy. And if we both go down – well, that's what friends are for, right?" She cracked a small smile. He looked down, and she began to withdraw her hands as he relaxed slightly. Chrom took her left hand, holding it back. The rain had made the silk that Tharja had given her to cover her Mark slightly transparent, and Chrom his thumb over it.

"I need you to know something," she said, pulling away. He looked slightly wounded. "When I was in Plegia, I filled in some of the holes from my past. I'm – well, I was – Grimleal. I was born into their line of nobility." She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him, even as the confession made her want to get up and flee. "I carry the blood of the Fell Dragon. My mother and Tharja, they stole me away from them to make sure that I didn't lead that life, but—"

Chrom placed two fingers over her lips. "I don't care," he said. She blinked. "I don't care where or how you were born, because what matters to me are your words just now, and your actions since the day I met you. You're right. Even if I can't do anything on my own, even if neither of us could ever be Emmeryn… maybe, together, we can be something more."

Relief and warmth flooded her chest, and she smiled gratefully. She cleared her throat.

"Speaking of togetherness," she tugged at his wrist to pull his hand away from her covered mouth, "the others are waiting. And we really ought to get out of the rain."

Elysa stood, pulling him with her. They hurried indoors, and she peeled her wet hood off of her face, brushing aside the damp strands of hair that clung to her cheeks. Chrom pushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes, unintentionally flicking water at her. She blinked the water out of her eyes and laughed, reaching up to wipe her face again. Chrom's hand slipped off of hers, his touch lingering for a moment.

"Milord, milady," Frederick cleared his throat politely. "The khans would like your audience." Chrom nodded, and they followed Frederick down to the main hall.

There, the Shepherds were assembled in a damp, bedraggled heap. Feroxi servants had handed out towels and cloths, and everyone was wrapped up and shivering slightly. Basilio was pulling some of the standing braziers closer to where they were all seated.

Flavia sighed upon seeing them approach. She waited for Basilio to put down the brazier he was holding before kicking his foot. "So what now, oaf?"

"Don't look at me," Basilio huffed, "I'm not in charge." He jerked his head towards Chrom and Elysa.

Flavia sighed. "I picked a fine time to regain the whole throne…" she muttered.

"Chrom," Lissa said, her voice cracking. She stood up and wrapped her arms around her brother, getting her dress damp all over again. Lon'qu sighed and reached for another towel. He waited for Chrom to embrace his sister in return before draping it around Lissa's shoulders.

"Milord," Cordelia said quietly, "I… we, rather… are so very sorry for your loss. We have failed you."

"Oh, hush," Tharja said. She gave Elysa a look. "I'm sure the prince has had enough of apologies. Now is not the time to distribute blame amongst ourselves."

"Easy enough for you to say, Plegian," Flavia spat. Basilio gave her a shove.

"You'd do well to heed her words. She's right," Basilio said, addressing the Shepherds, "Now is not the time for apologies and regrets. Now is the time to pledge to your lord."

"There is a war to be fought," Chrom said with a nod. "My Shepherds… My warriors… there is much work to be done."

Elysa spoke up. "Yes, indeed. Gangrel must be stopped. I fear that there will be no end to this war, no way to return peace to Ylisse, unless we stop his reign of terror."

"...Count me in," Lissa said, wiping her sleeve across her face. "I think… we should take some time tonight to pay respects to Emm. But after that, no more crying. It's time to step up – it's time of punching things!"

"Our hearts all echo yours, princess," Cordelia said quietly.

"Gladly would we fight and kill those dastards for House Ylisse," Sully growled.

"Gladly," Stahl echoed. "I shall fight and die for our country."

"It took great courage and charisma to unite all of us," Virion said. "I address both you, Chrom, and the tactician. Clearly, both of you possess great talents. And it is good to have you back, Elysa."

"How much you pay Gregor?" The mercenary folded his hands, earning a sharp elbow from Nowi. "Ow!" Then he laughed. "No worry! Gregor make joke!"

Frederick placed a hand on Chrom's shoulder. "You have grown strong, milord. I may have set a poor example as a knight... But I swear to you, I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled."

Chrom looked around, and Elysa could see his affection and pride towards his comrades as much as she felt her own. "Everyone… thank you, truly. Your words mean more than you can know. You honor me with your fealty. I will not falter again. We shall answer this outrage— The Mad King must be stopped!"

Basilio laughed heartily. "You young folk. Your passions run so hot! If I had any gray hairs, you would've singed 'em right off. In other words, count me in, Commander."

"Commander?" Chrom raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading across his face.

The khan nodded. "Indeed," he said. "No more 'boy.' You and Elysa have my every confidence. You're a born leader, she has a natural skill at securing victory on the battlefield. You both have some growing to do yet, but I can already see that you will grow tall, and strong." He cleared his throat and folded his arms. "Now, enough talk! There is certainly much work to be done, and preparations to be made. We must regroup, and march on Plegia sooner rather than later. Flavia and I shall lead the Feroxi troops in a head-on assault. We should be able to hold the Plegian border until Ylisse is ready to mount a full siege."

"Thank you, Basilio..." Chrom said sincerely. "We'll dethrone Gangrel, once and for all."

"Hear, hear!" The Shepherds cheered.

In the aftermath of the meeting, Elysa had stolen away into the Feroxi halls. She found where the servants had prepared quarters for the Ylisseans to stay, and picked out a small room for herself. She changed out of her damp clothes, and at her request, a bath was prepared. Once she was cleaned and back in a comfortable, dry tunic and breeches, she finally plopped down onto the cot in her quarters, and leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh.

It had been a long, long day. Hell, the last few days had seemed to stretch on for what felt like weeks. So much has come to pass. She looked over at her cloak – her mother's cloak – draped over the edge of her bed, and ran her fingers across the patterns. She let her hand slip away and fall to her side, as the memories played in her mind. She saw Sumia's face, the Grimleal caravan, the Plegian archives, the courtyard… Emmeryn.

Oh, she realized. I've probably missed any memorial services they've held for her— but perhaps it's not my place to be there... Then again, what right to have to be here at all? She winced at the return of her doubt.

As if the gods heard her thoughts as a cue, there was a knock at the door.

"Elysa?"

She looked over. The door was already slightly ajar. "You can come in," she said. The door swung open, and she quickly stood when she saw who her visitor was. "Chrom?"

Chrom pushed the door back to a half-closed position, and looked over at her. He had changed out of his blue jerkin, and his pauldron and cloak were absent as well. In commoner's clothes, with the Brand of the Exalt covered by the short, soft sleeves of a plain tunic, the prince looked significantly different.

No... this is Chrom when he's not the prince of Ylisse. When he doesn't have the world on his shoulders, and he's just a man.

"I'm sorry," Elysa said, worried that she was staring too long. "I didn't make it to Emmeryn's—"

Chrom waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. I understand. I didn't come to berate you." He shifted his weight, and his hand slipped into one of his pockets. Elysa saw it close around a small item there. "I wanted to speak with you, about earlier."

Elysa inhaled more audibly than she intended. Chrom gave her a worried look. "W-we don't have to, tonight, if you're tired, or…"

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. I... don't mind. But maybe close the door." He nodded in understanding, and pressed the wooden door shut. It clicked softly. When he turned back to her, he pulled his hand from his pocket, and held it closed tightly before him. He took half a step closer.

"Elysa…" he paused for a moment, closing his eyes. "Why did you leave?"

"It was for the best," she said emptily.

Chrom gave her a hard look. "You said that, in your note. For the best of what?"

"For you! It's not…" she trailed off, exasperated. "When— when Sumia died… it was almost as if you were more worried about me than her. She was your ally for much longer than you had known me. It's wrong for me to take the place of importance from someone who had such fealty to you for—"

"How can you tell me that my feelings are wrong?" Chrom furrowed his brow. "Elysa, I… I care about you. I don't know how to explain it, nor do I feel the need to try to defend how I feel, but I felt a... a connection with you. From the day I found you in the field. And the day at the Shepherds' garrison, when I bumbled on about you not being lady-like; I didn't know how to approach these strange, new feelings. I've been courted plenty of times, sure, but—"

This time, Elysa cut him off. "Chrom," she said firmly. "This is… a turbulent and emotional time for you. You're getting ahead of yourself."

"No, Elysa...!" She flinched slightly at his sudden intensity, a stark change from his rambling. "I – I need to say this. Now, more than ever."

"Okay," she said, almost a whisper.

But then he was silent for a moment. "Well, now look at me. I'm not sure how to put things."

Elysa smiled softly. He looked at her for a long time, then opened his hand to her. She looked down, and saw the crystal pendant. "This… this is yours. May I?" he asked.

She pressed her lips together, and nodded wordlessly. Chrom lifted the chain delicately, and then closed the distance between them. He turned her around gently by the shoulders, and brushed her hair aside as he fastened the necklace back around her neck. Her hand went up to touch the pendant as she felt its slight weight when he closed the clasp and stepped away.

"Chrom," she said quietly, turning the clear stone between her fingers. "I... I feel too guilty to—"

"Guilty?" Chrom frowned. "Elysa, you have no reason to feel guilt."

"No reason?" Elysa tensed. "No reason? Sumia is dead because of me. And Emmeryn—"

"Elysa, please, stop." Chrom closed his eyes. She bit her lip, and let him continue. "I'm being a hypocrite by telling you how to feel or not feel, but… we all make our own choices. Sumia was her own person. Emmeryn was her own person. Even so, the void they've left in their wake may be felt by many, but their sacrifices were not in vain. Emmeryn… my sister died as she lived. She was the hope of her people, to the very end. And Sumia—"

"Sumia would still be here if it weren't for me," Elysa interrupted bluntly.

Chrom stared at her. "Elysa… do you truly think that her sacrifice wasn't worthwhile?"

"I don't kn—"

"No." he said firmly. "You're wrong if you think so. It's the horrible truth, but in times of war, sometimes we do have to weigh the weight of one life against another – and for Sumia, that was her call to make."

"She cared about you so much…" Elysa's voice cracked. "How could – how could she choose my life over all of the potential that hers had? Over the possibility of a future of a life beside you?"

"Elysa." Chrom moved closer to her again. She lifted a hand to push him away, but her palm rested against his chest, and she was rooted to the ground. "That future already belonged to someone else." His voice was hushed, but still bore the same tone of intensity. He brought his hand up to Elysa's cheek, and moved her face even closer to his. She could feel his breath; his dark blue eyes filled her view, and his nose brushed hers.

"What if…" she whispered, and looked down. "What if I'm not worthy of that future?" Elysa felt one of his fingers tip her chin up gently, and she met his eyes.

"Well, like you said earlier," Chrom said softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled his crooked smile, and a stray teardrop or two escaped down his cheek. "You'll just have to keep at it until you're worthy."

She laughed gently, finally letting her own tears go, as she lifted her hand to cover his against her face. "Chrom…" He leaned in an inch closer.

"Elysa."

She felt his lips almost brush against hers as he spoke, barely set apart from her own, and finally overcame the last of her inhibitions. Closing the negligible gap, she kissed him softly, and immediately felt his free hand come up to gently cup the back of her neck. He kissed her back, deeply, almost urgently. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her fingers trailing lightly through his hair. Time seemed to move at a different pace for those moments.

When they finally parted for breath, Chrom pressed his forehead to hers, then pulled her closely to him in a tight embrace. "Elysa," he whispered. "Please don't leave me again." She pressed her face into his shoulder.

"I won't. I promise."

AN: Hope you enjoyed it. This chapter went through a couple different iterations before I settled with this, because I truly believe that the post-Emmeryn events are extremely critical to Chrom's development and forced entry into the responsibilities of leading the halidom. I went through the previous chapters before putting this one up to make sure little tweaks here and there are consistent, because I really wanted the moment for them to be honest to each other to not feel out-of-place.

Be it questions, concerns, comments, complaints, flames, or positive appraisal, reviewing is always appreciated! :)