I will write a one shot with the characters of choice (within reason) for the person who can name which book series I stole a reference from in this chapter ;)

/Zen

"They definitely know where we are," Chrom said, meeting everyone's eyes one at a time. Basilio, Flavia, Gregor, Lon'qu, and then me. Lingering on me.

Basilio nodded, sucking in one side of his cheek as he thought. "Not much else for it," he said in his deep booming voice. "A wyn-storm and Risen in the same day?"

"Most unlikely, as the big oaf has pointed out," Flavia agreed, lifting her chin. Her wild blond hair stuck out in unruly spikes from its band. "They know, and they will be coming towards us harder now."

I nodded, agreeing with both points. I'd had more than enough time to think it through last night, having been forced to sit on that rock while Lon'qu did the leg work of patrolling. When Freddy had come to relieve me, Lon'qu had helped me back to my tent and gone to get Maribel. Though she wasn't nearly as efficient as Lissa, it had done the job. My ankle was good as new.

"They were testing us," I said. "Testing our strength. They will know the strength of our magicians and our swords now."

"Why bother?" Chrom demanded. His brow was furrowed as he leaned forward, hands splayed over the table top and the maps there. "What point does it serve him to test our strength? Why send only five Risen and one little storm?"

"Little storm," Gregor snorted under his breath. Basilio chuckled, but the rest ignored him.

"Anything bigger could have swept us away," I explained, "and Gangrel wants that fun for himself. I've also checked with Tharja, and she says it's unlikely their magic users have the strength for a bigger storm. Wyn-storms are a specialty, and harder to control the larger they are."

"Glad she's on our side," Basilio muttered.

"For now," Flavia added, crossing her tanned arms.

I ignored their comments. They clearly remembered the non-challant way Tharja had joined the Shepherds. Despite how she kept creeping up on me and her dark comments, I trusted the sorceress. Something told me she was a strong ally – and I'd learned to put stock in such instincts.

"As for the Risen," I continued with a sigh, "any larger of a group would have caught our attention at once. Perhaps Gangrel really only wanted to keep us on our toes so that we would not know which way to turn or what to expect."

Chrom exhaled heavily, glancing down at the map beneath his hands. "Let's double the night watch," he said at last, "and I want at least one of us on guard during the day."

"We're all vigilant while it's light out," Basilio started.

Cutting him off, Chrom shook head and his dark blue hair fell into his eyes. "We can't take this lightly, even if it was only five of them. Gangrel is up to something and until our scouts get back, we can only guess at what it is."

I glanced across the others to Lon'qu, the only one here who'd kept quiet so far. With a faint smile, I remembered his reasoning – that Chrom gave the orders and he just stabbed people. What a clear conscience he must have for so deadly a swordsmaster.

He glanced up as though sensing my gaze and held it for a long moment. Then I realized I was still smiling faintly and looked away.

"You want Gregor to organize day watch," the auburn-haired sellsword said, straightening, "Gregor can do this. Others will not like, but it can be done." Bringing one fist to his chest, the man bowed his head then stepped out.

"I know they won't," Chrom said under his breath. He pushed up from the table and stood up straight. He looked more like the prince he was all the time.

"Sometimes you must do what needs to be done rather than what others might like," I told him. I really ought to be taking my own advice, I thought sourly.

"I met a man once," Basilio added, voice loud in the small tent, "who fought a hopeless battle every day of his life. A small force was under his command, each man loyal to a fault and tough as wyvrn hide. Despite their odds, they held their defences for years – defences which still held when last I saw him."

"Is there a point to your story?" Flavia asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"If you would have a little patience," he grumbled. "The man told me something I still remember. He said: Death is as light as a feather, but duty as heavy as a mountain."

There was silence as he let that revelation sit. Chrom was certainly considering his duty as prince. As heir to Ylisse. I certainly owed him something. I had a duty – to him and to the rest of the Shepherds. Yet it was to Lon'qu my gaze strayed once more.

This time the swordsmaster looked deep in thought, like there was some responsibility he was considering too. I guess everyone has their own duty.

"A wise man," Chrom said at last, rousing from his silence and thought. "Thank you," he added.

Recognizing dismissal, both Basilio and Flavia raised their fists to their hearts and bowed their heads a fraction before heading out. The big man muttered something which earned him a punch to his arm as they ducked beneath the tent flap. Lon'qu roused, bowing and leaving as well.

"Do you think I am doing the right thing? Attacking Gangrel?" Chrom asked.

I was the only one left. I was the only one he could be asking.

Taking a deep breath, I said: "He murdered your sister, as surely as if he'd held the knife to her throat."

"I know," he said quietly, his hands tightening to fists. "I do not want to act out in anger, but I can't help it. Something must be done. I know Emm would have wanted peace, but sometimes you must use violence to achieve it. Is that wrong?"

I chose my words carefully. "Emm believed in the goodness of others – of all others. There was nothing wrong with that, even if it wasn't always accurate-"

"There is good in everyone."

"There is," I agreed, nodding, "but it isn't always the good which shows. Sometimes greed or hatred overpowers it. You tried to reason with Gangrel, but he's left you no choice."

The prince gave a bitter laugh. "No, he certainly did not."

"I will help you however I can," I told him, careful to keep my voice neutral, "but the choice is yours. We will follow you."

"Thank you," he said. Then he turned his attention back to the maps again. Taking my leave, I stepped out of the tent into the sunlight. Lon'qu stood off to the side and glanced up.

"He seems troubled."

Nodding and stuffing my hands into my pockets, I walked over to the swordsmaster. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes underscored by the sleepless night we'd both had. "He is. Those scouts need to come back, and fast. We need to move."

"I feel like a boulder growing moss," he agreed, running a hand through his hair.

"Well that's no good," I grinned. "I don't really think green is your colour."

"My colour?"

I shrugged, too tired to explain my lame joke.

"Are you coming to spar?" Lon'qu asked after a moment, hand straying to the sword at his side.

With a sigh I shook my head. As much as I wanted to, there were other things needing my attention. "Not yet. This meeting has set me thinking. There's some books I want to go through. Perhaps ask Chrom. It might get his mind off things."

I left him standing there and headed off to my own tent. I'd hardly slept this morning after my watch, but I felt too anxious. Perhaps sparring would have worn down that energy, but I needed to be working on the problem at hand. I had to be prepared. Somehow, I had to keep them alive.