Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.
The chilled air of the courtyard was a welcome relief after the crowded warmth of the great hall. It had the added benefit of giving her some distance from—
Robin folded her hands into her sleeves and stared down the budding skeleton of a tree as if daring it to change shape.
She drew in a few deep breaths of the frigid air, hoping to dispell the quiet panic settling deep inside her bones. Nothing had changed, and nothing was different. From the short time she'd been acquainted with herself, she had come to expect that any time she and magic came in contact with each other, things were going to get interesting.
This time was no different.
The memory of the great hall flickered before her eyes, heating her cheeks and making it impossible to keep still. Frowning, she paced just beyond the reach of the tree's shadow.
An imagination was a good thing. It let you breathe. Create. Learn. Grow. Engineer elaborate schemes for getting revenge against a certain pigtailed princess and her army of frogs.
But it could also get you in trouble. And hers seemed determined to get her into as much trouble as possible.
The image in her mind's eye warmed her as if she'd been cold all along without realizing it. She wanted to wrap herself up in her daydream, to understand every thread of it. Worst of all, a part of her wanted it to be real.
The absurdity of such a notion shook Robin from its spell, crumbling the memory away. She reached out and pressed her hand against the rough bark of the tree. Every bump, every sharp and prickly angle—these were real.
Comforting.
Safe.
She bit her bottom lip as she pressed her hand harder against the trunk. Safe. That's what it really came down to. Who knows what might have become of her if Chrom hadn't come along. For someone who had nothing, not even memories beyond a month or so, she had somehow found a family.
A purpose.
A place.
Whims of the heart were just that—whims.
Impermanent and changeable.
Lost as easily as they'd been found.
So why was it so hard to let go?
The kindness in his eyes. The love. Every breath that had been stolen away in the face of such pure devotion. And the small boy with Chrom's coloring and her knack for teasing answers from riddles and finding the center to every labyrinth.
Except this one.
Robin clenched her hands into fists and set her jaw. She closed her eyes against everything. Why was rejecting some silly daydream like tearing away parts of her soul? This was a place where even she couldn't ignore the odds stacked against her. There would be no slipping through some long forgotten loophole. No sneaking past when no one was looking.
It was better to keep what she had than to risk losing everything completely.
It hurt right now—oh, how it hurt!—but with time and determination the pain would likely fade. If only he hadn't looked at—no.
She could do this.
She would do this.
Starting now.
Her breath hitched when she opened her eyes. As the world slowly filtered back through her senses, Robin stopped breathing when she realized she wasn't alone.
Or, more acurately, when it became apparent that at some point unknown to her she'd lost it. As silly as it seemed, the dark fire charring away her heart was grief, and grief could do strange things to people.
Like make them see things that weren't there.
Robin glared at the image her grief had dredged up, the quiet embers of her temper warming up. Her spirit wasn't so weak as to demand the very thing she couldn't have to the point of seeing things! It was bad enough that she couldn't talk. It would be immeasurably worse if she were unable to talk to something that didn't even exist in the first place.
Her hallucination was fairly polite, she supposed, as far as these things went. It watched her, waiting, until she met its gaze. Her intent had been to stare it down into oblivion—which had been going pretty well until it reached toward her and brushed its fingers against her cheeks.
"You're crying." Chrom—no, not Chrom, she reminded herself—murmured. He wasn't here. He couldn't be here.
He would know that.
As for the sensation she'd felt against her cheek, well, there was a light breeze blowing. It was that and nothing more.
She shook her head. He wasn't there. This . . . This Chrom standing there so ernestly wasn't real. He couldn't be.
"Robin, are you hurt? Did something happen?"
Her eyes widened as he gripped her shoulders.
A person couldn't dream up the weight of another person's hands, the pressure of every finger, could they? Or the warmth looming only an arm's length away? There was nothing about Regna Ferox that was either warm or gentle.
Robin's heartbeat throbbed in her temples, building pressure behind her eyes, as she stared back at the one person she had no right to look at.
"Robin, can you answer me? Do you need a healer? Lissa?"
Over the sound of her heart cracking, a steady panic was growing shrill. He was real, or real enough, and if she didn't answer him, she was going to end up trussed up somewhere at the mercy of whatever healers were available.
I almost died.
The words had fallen from her fingers before she'd realized they were even there. She couldn't take them back even if she wanted to, and they were hardly a lie, even if they weren't completely the truth.
Chrom's eyes widened. "What? When? How?"
Robin mentally kicked herself. Instead of soothing his fears, she'd managed to set them ablaze. But here was her thread, and she would use it.
During the battle. When I caught the spells.
In retrospect, what she had done had been blindingly stupid. It had worked all right, but what if it hadn't? She'd given a lot of thought to what Frederick had told her, and had finally figured out what he'd meant. Even Lissa had told her so. The Shepherds were Chrom's family by extension, and it would hurt him if any of them were lost.
Even her.
Chrom let out a breath. "I think you just scared ten years of my life away." He gave her a shaky smile and dropped his hands heavily to his sides.
I'm sorry.
Her fingers trembled with the memory of lightning and fire racing up her arms and around her neck before tracing their path back down. It had been exhilarating, yes, but at the same time, she could almost see the fragile thread that had been her life.
"But you're all right now?" He peered into her eyes, oddly intense.
I'm all right now. Which, technically she was.
Chrom laughed softly as he leaned back against the low stone wall that formed a small courtyard around the tree that had helped anchor her firmly in the here and now. "When I first started fighting for Ylisse, before I'd even organized the Shepherds, it might surprise you to know that I was in the habit of doing rash and foolish things."
Robin couldn't help raising a brow at that. Apparently Chrom was unaware that he had yet to grow out of such habits.
"Frederick was good by anyone's standards, but he became the behemoth he is today in large part because he was responsible for keeping my life and limbs intact." Chrom's gaze wandered toward the moon, his hands resting lightly atop the wall. "In many ways it was simpler back then, although I wouldn't trade today for any number of yesterdays."
Robin fretted with the cuffs of her sleeves. This Chrom, the real Chrom, was too much like the one she'd conjured up in her daydream during the dance.
Perhaps that's why she'd dreamed him up in the first place.
"My point is," Chrom straightened and turned toward her, "that feeling in your gut that's a combination of digesting anything Sully had a hand in cooking and falling all to pieces is normal. As you said," his jaw tightened, "you'd almost died."
Robin frowned and nodded. Coming close enough to death to see the color of its eyes was bound to leave even the most stalwart warrior a little off kilter.
"A wise man once told me that it's better to let those feelings come as they will than to try to twist and contort them into submission."
She moved to say something slightly sarcastic to lighten the air between them when the impact of the truth in her cover story smashed into her with the force of ten dragons.
The roar of Fire and the hiss of Thunder filled her ears as she choked on their acrid stench. Fear turned to ashes, and beneath all that heat was a terrifying coldness.
And after the coldness, nothing.
She didn't know when she first became aware of his arms around her, holding her together better than she could on her own.
Robin only had enough time to register to how nice it felt before a sharp pain ran through her middle and up into her torso. The pain fragmented and echoed through her limbs like forked lightning.
Her vision splintered, and it was only due to Chrom's solid form that she remained upright at all.
"Robin!"
His voice was the last thing she heard before a dark vortex swallowed the world and everything in it.
A silent cry shattered the calm of the evening.
Mother!
Lady Tiki had warned them against meddling over much, and for the most part Lucina had obeyed. They had come to save this world, not to secure a place in it. Only bonds that had been naturally forged could withstand the storm looming on the horizon.
Yet none of that mattered now as Lucina raced toward the sound of her mother's tortured cries. The memories of a dark laugh snapped at her heels as she vaulted over the stone wall of the courtyard her parents had disappeared into earlier.
"Robin!" The panic in her father's voice brought her to a halt.
Spider thin cracks had carved their way through her mother's flesh as though moonlight was breaking through the dull patina of her skin.
Lucina swallowed hard before dropping into a crouch next to her father.
"She doesn't have much time left, but I can help her."
"What's happening to her?"
Her father's eyes never left her mother's face, and Lucina was reminded of all they stood to lose. The future had yet to be won and was far from secure.
"I—I'm—There is no time." Lucina's heart beat in time with the cracks shivering their way across her mother's face. She reached toward them, but brought her hand up short. "I can help her, but you'll have to trust me."
Her father looked at her then, and time froze. Once again she was a little girl, waving a practice sword that was nearly as tall as she was.
"What do you need me to do?" There was no hesitation in him, just the steely resolve she remembered so well.
Lucina nodded to the lone tree in the courtyard. "I need you to step back and trust me."
Her father gently transferred her mother to Lucina's arms. Robin was so light, she could have easily carried her.
"Whatever your reasons, you have risked your own life to aid me and mine. For that, you have earned both my gratitude and my trust." His jaw tightened over the words he didn't say, but Lucina heard them all the same.
Despite the gravity of the situation, she had to hide her smile as she stood. Her father had always been fiercely protective of her mother, just as her mother had been of him.
"I will return tomorrow evening, just after the sun has set."
Her father's eyes widened, but Lucina had already stepped into the moonlight and slipped into the shadow space. With measured, careful steps, she pivoted sideways into the Mirror Realm.
Now that they had crossed over, her mother's voice was no longer bound. Her cries had grown weak enough that Lucina could almost feel each second that brought her mother that much closer to the edge of her existence.
Setting her jaw, Lucina ran along the silver path. Lissa should be somewhere nearby, and the sooner her aunt could help Robin, the better. She should have listened to Lissa's advice the first time, but like everything else, time had been short.
Bits and pieces of shadow tore away from the night, converging upon Lucina in a cloud of butterflies that lent their speed as they pushed her along the path.
"Lissa," Lucina called out. "I need Lissa. Tell her to hurry!"
A few of the butterflies peeled themselves away from the cloud to go off in search of her aunt.
The silver light shining through the cracks in Robin's skin continued to brighten as the fractures widened. But what frightened Lucina the most was that her mother had fallen silent. Robin's eyes were closed and her breathing so light that Lucina had to fight the impulse to slow down long enough to check for a pulse.
Her mother was still alive. She had to be.
Those two thoughts circled through Lucina's mind. Formed the rhythm to which she ran.
Everything would be all right, even if she had to hold all the pieces together herself. Forever.
"Robin!"
Lissa's voice broke through her thoughts, allowing Lucina just enough time to skid to a stop before smashing into her aunt.
"I'm not going to say I told you so," Lissa said as she directed Lucina to lay Robin down in a bank of shadows swirling on the side of the path. "I'm not going to even yell at you—for now. I'm just going to be glad that pig-headed stubbornness runs in our family."
Lucina smiled as she watched the younger version of her aunt carefully examine her mother to prioritize what needed healing most. Her pigtails bounced as her fingers fluttered above the cracks, not quite touching them.
"Will she be all right?" Lucina closed her eyes against the memory of her father standing there alone in the shadow of a tree. He had trusted her with what he cherished most in this world, and she would not fail him.
"Depends." Lissa held out her healing staff, focusing the silver green light over Robin's torso. Once the magic held steady, she rocked back on her heels before looking up at Lucina. "What she needs most is to rest here where she can absorb enough of the world to make her whole again."
Lucina pinched her lips together as she weighed need against necessity. As in her own world, there was never enough time. It was a terrible game of chess where a move or a sacrifice at the wrong moment could topple the king without having to lay a finger upon him.
She never had beaten her mother at chess, and even Morgan—
No. She couldn't think about that. Not now.
"How long will it take?" Lucina asked, opening her eyes and letting out the breath she'd been holding.
Lissa sighed. "How soon does she need to return? I haven't been able to properly keep track of things since they left Ylisse."
"I gave F—Chrom my word that she would be gone for a single day." Lucina grimaced as her aunt's brows snapped together into a scowl that usually meant a great number of people were going to be very sorry, very soon.
"Frog feathers," Lissa muttered, returning her attention to Robin's still form. "If you hadn't gotten her here when you did, there would have been no keeping her together."
Lucina swallowed hard and nodded. They had made it. That was all that mattered.
"I'll do what I can, so long as you promise to return with her for regular infusions."
"You have my word."
Lissa nodded, then rolled her eyes. "Staring at her isn't going to make her get better any faster, so you might as well come out of there."
A flurry of ink dark leaves swept passed them, along with a rueful chuckle. Lucina froze when her father stepped out of the darkness beyond them. "You know me too well, Lis."
Lucina drank in every sight, every sound of her father and aunt. To see them now, as they were, was a gift beyond imagining. They still had the light of hope in their eyes and the bounce in their steps of those who had not yet been worn down and stretched to their breaking point.
And then pushed one step further.
"Marth." Chrom greeted her before he crouched down next to Robin's still form. He reached out a tentative hand toward her face before slipping one of her hands between his own. "How soon until she wakes?"
"When she's good and ready," Lissa said, giving him a pointed look. "And you aren't to be bothering her either. She needs to rest while she can. They aren't able to stay long."
A light blush darkened his cheeks, but he nodded. With a sigh, Chrom transferred Robin's hand to Lissa's. Then he looked up at Lucina, pinning her in place with the intensity of his gaze.
"Why don't we follow the path for a time, Marth, while my sister sees to Robin's injuries."
Lucina nodded as she stood, mentally weighing her options. She hadn't missed the glint of iron in his eye when he'd mentioned her mother's injuries. For a brief moment she was six years old again, covered in flour, and staring at the remains of what had been a very expensive, very ancient decorative urn.
She gripped Falchion's hilt for comfort, then hurriedly dropped her arm when she noticed her father doing the same. Tiki hadn't been too specific about what would constitute a fatal breach in the past, and no one really knew all that much about her mother's . . . less traditional talents.
Oh, her mother had taught her and Morgan how to use their abilities once they manifested their affinity for bright and shiny things, but she had died before she could pass on all that she knew.
In the interest of minimizing the risk of destroying the past, Lucina hadn't told her father or aunt of this world what was going on. It was a bittersweet thing every time she returned to this realm. So close to the family she'd loved and lost, but unable to act. To find comfort in those bonds.
Bonds that hadn't even been formed yet in this world.
"What happened, Marth?" Her father asked, crossing his arms as he came to a halt.
"I don't know exactly." Lucina frowned. Of all the times she'd kept her resolve to observe her family from a distance, it had to have been this time. "From what A—Lissa said, I imagine that it was a combination of remaining in the other realm for too long and pushing herself too hard."
Chrom sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling. "Robin does have a habit of minding everyone's limits but her own."
Lucina wanted to reassure her father that this particular quirk of her mother's would get better with time, but she couldn't find it in her to lie to him—though he wasn't technically her father. Yet even so, this would be something he'd discover for himself soon enough.
"So where do you come into this?" He very pointedly did not look at the sword hanging from her belt.
Lucina drew herself upright. Here, she wasn't a princess and he wasn't her father. She was simply Marth. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. There may be a time in the future, but until then, I must ask you to trust me."
She waited while he studied what he could see of her face, hardly daring to breathe.
"I don't suppose you'll tell me how you came into possession of her." His gaze flicked toward Falchion for a moment.
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
"I see. Is there anything you can tell me?"
Lucina shook her head, regret, longing, and fear squeezing fire into her chest and turning all her words to ashes.
Her father put a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze. "If the time ever comes when you can, I look forward to hearing your story." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but shifted as though standing on uncertain ground.
"I'll bring her back to you. I've already promised Lissa that I would."
The relief in her father's eyes eased away the rest of the tension from his face. He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know that it's more than a little selfish to be glad of her return. There's still so much that needs to be done before we can even think of breathing, and yet . . ." He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes as his blush intensified. "It is nice to be in the same place she is."
Lucina nodded. For reasons they'd never been able to unravel, she, her mother, and Morgan had never had a counterpart in this realm.
"I will return her as soon as I can." She wanted to do more, but she already had her hands full trying to prevent the future without completely obliterating the past.
"I understand." Her father glanced back the way they'd come. "Time stretches and stands still differently here. She should be ready to awaken soon."
Lucina followed half a step behind as he led the way back to where Lissa and her mother were waiting for them. So many things she wanted to say. So many conversations running through her mind.
But she couldn't give voice to any of them.
And while it shamed her, the one thing she wanted above nearly anything else was for her mother and father to hold her as they had when they'd soothed away a nightmare. To be able to lean on them a little while. To rest from all the terror and pain and dark shadows ever nipping at their heels.
To not to have to be alone anymore—even if only for a moment.
Lucina shook the traitorous thought from her head. The others had come with her. They'd all lost and sacrificed as she had. However, due to her position, the mantle of leadership had fallen upon her shoulders. She wanted to ask her father if it would always sit so heavy. If it dogged even his dreams as it did hers.
She pressed her lips together and curled her fingers into her palms. There was no use in lamenting bonds that had been cut short. As the last Exalt of Ylisse, it was her duty to stand when all others would fall. Her duty to protect all those that she could.
Her duty to stand alone if that's what was required.
Just as it was her duty to shoulder all the burdens of her people. To hold all of their hopes in one hand while staving off despair with the other. If that meant swallowing all their fear and hopelessness herself, then so be it.
Robin sat up just as they'd reached her. Her eyes were wide and her fingers danced in the air.
"Silly," Lissa said, smiling and shaking her head. "You don't have to do all that. Here, you can speak. Remember?"
"Are you all right, Robin?" Chrom knelt down beside her, his eyes locked with hers.
"C-Chrom?" Then Robin turned to Lucina, her eyes narrowing a little. "Marth."
Lucina dipped into a shallow bow. The relief that came from seeing her mother whole once more had stolen any words she might have said.
Which was a good thing.
Already Lucina could feel the three worlds in which she walked growing fuzzy around their borders. She must never forget that two of the worlds were not her own—at least not yet. And, if all went well, her own world would never come to pass.
"What happened?" Robin put a hand to her temple as if to still the world around her.
"Nature, that's what happened." Lissa stood and shook out her skirts before smoothing them over the metal frame of her crinoline. "You've been away for far too long. Any longer, and there wouldn't have been any you left to heal. Got that?"
"What?"
Chrom chuckled as he took one of Robin's hands and put an arm around her to help her stand. "What do you remember?"
"I was—it . . ." Unaccountably, her cheeks went pink. Robin glanced at Chrom, then away, her blush intensifying. She cleared her throat. "We won an alliance with the East-Khan. There was a feast to celebrate. And I . . . I went outside to clear my head."
"What happened then?" Chrom asked.
Robin's brow furrowed. "I thought I had dreamed you up, but you turned out to be real."
"Aww!" Lissa clapped her hands with delight as Robin, realizing what she'd just said, slapped both hands over her mouth.
Lucina watched, fascinated. She had never seen her mother at a loss for words before.
"That's a relief," Chrom said, his expression softening. He looked like he was about to say more, but Lissa cut in.
"If you're going to keep your promise, you need to get going."
Lucina blinked. "Er, yes." She gestured toward her mother. "I'll bring you back at a later date, but for now, we need to return to your own world."
Perhaps emboldened by the change in conversation, Robin lowered her hands. "One day you're going to have to show me how everything fits together."
Not trusting her voice, Lucina nodded.
"We'll be waiting," Chrom promised, kissing the back of Robin's hand before he released her.
Lissa waved an admonishing finger at Lucina. "Make sure you come back before she starts to splinter. Or else!"
"You have my word." Lucina turned to her mother. "We are going to have to hurry."
Then, because she really didn't want to test her father's patience, she summoned the butterflies to speed them along their way.
A cloud of ebony wings descended upon them as Robin called out her thanks and farewells. Lucina hooked her arm through her mother's as the feeling of weightlessness swept through her. Travel by butterflies was as close as she ever got to flying.
Home, she silently commanded them. Take us home.
The whisper of a thousand wings filled her ears, building steadily until it turned into a howling wind. She gripped her mother's arm a little tighter as the final rush came.
Then all fell silent as the original world asserted itself, parting the cloud of shadows as they stepped out of a puddle of moonlight.
"Robin."
Lucina stepped back as her father jumped to his feet. Her mother turned toward his voice, her cheeks still glowing.
Chrom reached toward Robin, but didn't quite touch her. "Are you all right? When you—"
I'm fine. Robin didn't quite meet his gaze. Really.
Lucina didn't miss the look her mother had sent her, however. It was the one her mother had used whenever she expected a concise explanation to be forthcoming. Usually right after she, her father, or Morgan had broken something big or important. It was also not unlike the one she used after they'd had to rescue whoever had been unlucky enough to find one of Morgan's forgotten traps.
"She's fine for now," Lucina reassured her father when he glanced at her.
"For now?" He frowned.
"It will be necessary to treat her . . . condition again. It is not a temporary thing."
Her father narrowed his eyes. "What is her condition, exactly?"
"I'm afraid that is something you will have to discover for yourselves." The weight on Lucinia's shoulders grew a little heavier, just as it always did when it came time for her to leave. "I'll return for her in a fortnight."
Then, to ease her heart from a little of the pressure, she stepped back into the shadows and allowed them to blur away her edges.
"Marth, I—" Chrom stepped closer to Robin as he searched for her to no avail. "He's gone."
Her mother put a very light hand on his arm. He promised to return.
"That he did." With a swish of white, Chrom removed his cloak and settled it on Robin's shoulders. "You've got to be freezing. Why don't we go inside where it's warm."
Robin nodded as she allowed herself to be led in the direction of light and warmth and family. But just before they followed the curve of the pathway and vanished from sight, she looked over her shoulder.
Lucina froze as her mother's gaze met her own.
Questions and denials clattered against each other, and then her parents were gone.
Lucina took an unsteady step, her edges solidifying with her movements. Her mother couldn't have seen her. Not when she had no idea or understanding of the Mirror Realm. Not yet.
Even so, Lucina vowed to be more cautious in the future. She couldn't afford even one misstep—not with the future to contend with.
She wasn't their daughter. She couldn't be. Not here. And if what Lady Tiki believed would happen if they managed to succeed in preventing her father from dying, she wouldn't be anything at all.
A thought that was equal parts sorrow and relief.
"I wish you could have been here, Morgan," she whispered, allowing herself one last moment of grief before she straightened her spine and rebuilt her armor piece by piece. She couldn't allow the others to see that beneath the crown, she was every bit as human as most of them were.
So she would be what they needed most. If that meant tucking away every part of herself until all that remained was a semblance of a long ago hero, then that would be a small price—and one she'd gladly pay.
Her feet once more steady, Lucina didn't look back as she vanished into the night.
A/N: This chapter had a lot of surprises for me. In the last chapter, I knew that Chrom wasn't the only one Falchion had talked to. (Not talking talking, of course. Being a sword limits her avenue of communication, which is why she went with visions.) I knew Robin had seen something too and that she was fairly . . . distraught, to put it mildly. She had been out of sorts for much of the last chapter, and at the time I had no idea why. It was right about when she more than half believed that the Chrom in the courtyard was the product of her overactive imagination that I started to get the feeling that all was not well with her.
Yet she gave no hints as to what.
It wasn't until everything hit her and she started to fracture (heh) that I realized she had no idea what was happening either.
Enter Lucina. 0.0
I had never thought to write a chapter from her perspective, which is probably why she ambushed me from the shadows. (Something tells me Falchion, at least, was in on it. ;p)
Despite the characters taking the reins (By that, I mean all of them. We were supposed to be entering Ylisstol today with a new Shepherd in tow. .), the story and the world snapped into place easily. And more accurately than it would have if Robin and Co. were more passive about how things are going to play out. *confetti*
I just wanted to thank all of you who read/comment/etc. You guys are awesome and I really appreciate each one of you. Knowing you guys are there gives me impetus to keep going when the lazier aspects of my nature show up in force. The story itself is also better and stronger because I want to make sure I'm giving you the best I have to give. Thank you!
Starlit Storyteller: Thank you so much! I intend to give it my all. :)