Thanks for still reading this guys! For those of you who have noticed, I did cut back the thrice a week updates to twice. It's just way too crazy these days lol.

Enjoy, Zen

I watched as the others filed out of the tent, waiting until it was just me and Chrom before sighing. Lifting a hand to my head, I tried to smooth back the ache in my temples with my fingertips.

"Is it bothering you again?"

I looked up, meeting Chrom's dark blue eyes. His brows were pinched in concern, but he made no move towards me. I wished Lon'qu had been in on the meeting, but when I'd gone to find him... he hadn't been anywhere. His presence would've been a comfort.

"I'm okay," I said, lowering my hand. He didn't look like he believed me, but there wasn't anything he could do so I didn't see a point in dwelling on it. Sometimes it was a little ache, sometimes a sharper pain. Most of the time I shook it off. Or tried to.

He took a deep breath, staring down at the map of Gangrel's fortress. With the intel from Gauis and the others we'd made notations regarding sentries and patrols. Little splashes of ink spotted the page in our haste.

"Those random patrols bother me," I told him, frowning at the map. "I agree with Gauis. It seems like Gangrel is hiding his stronger forces. I wouldn't be surprised if he lets us get close and then calls them in to cut us off."

He nodded, tapping the parchment with a finger and duplicating my frown. "I wonder what else he has in mind. I want us to be prepared, but a part of me..." he hesitated and glanced at me. I was surprised by the fury I saw in his eyes. "Part of me wants to go now. Rush him and kill him and be done with all of this."

"Chrom..."

"I know," he said, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders. "I won't, but I want to. The gods help me... I want to."

I stood there feeling like I ought to do or say something. My first instinct was to reach out to him, but I was unsure. Yeah, we'd said friends but if I reached out now would that change what I felt was a tenuous understanding? I worried about that.

Taking a good look at him, at the tenseness in his shoulders and the emotion in his face, I realized I was worried more about him. So I took that step, the one separating us, and reached out to him. My hand rested lightly on his bicep and he turned, his dark eyes bright with pain and anger that had yet to fade. Would it? Would his anger against Gangrel fade when the war was over or would it linger and taint the rest of his life?

"It's my fault," he said, his voice rasping as he strained to speak. "You know that don't you? My fault Emm is gone."

"Chrom, you can't blame yourself..."

He curled his hands into fists at his side, still not looking at me. "I've tried to tell myself that. I've tried. But I still see her face – " he cut himself off and I saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"The pain will fade," I told him quietly. I felt it was what I should say, but I realized I was out of my depth. What did I know of this kind of guilt? This kind of pain? I didn't know who I was, or what was in my past. My guilt came from fear of the mistakes I might make. I didn't know what it was like to be unable to save someone or have them die because I could do nothing.

I didn't want to know.

"Will it?" he whispered, glancing at me again. It was hard to hold his gaze, but I did.

"It will," I told him firmly. I didn't let any of that uncertainty colour my voice. He needed my strength and I could give him that at least.

He took a deep breath and shook his head slightly. "I suppose you're right." He forced a smile and moved so that I dropped my hand. "Thank you. I should let you go... I'm sure you have a lot of work ahead of you."

I hesitated, certain he was just saying this so I wouldn't worry. But what could I do? If he wanted me to leave him be... I would respect that.

"Yes," I said. "I want to check on a few things, but I think I already know what we should be doing when we go."

He nodded. "I trust your judgment."

I left him then, feeling unsettled. Outside, I glanced back at his tent and frowned. Was it just me, or had he been trying to get rid of me? Why did that bother me so much?

Shaking my head, I strode away from the tent intent on heading to my own. I did have other things to deal with. In my head I was already considering the books I wanted to consult. If we were going to be launching our attack in three days, I had to make sure I made the best decision possible. Like I'd told Chrom, I was pretty sure I already knew which route I wanted to take – but I didn't want to be hasty.

I wanted to keep my promise to Ricken and get as many of us through this alive as possible. A cold lump formed in my stomach at the thought I might fail.

I won't.

"Won't what?"

With a jolt I turned and saw Tharja standing there. Her dark hair framed her face and her eyes were narrowed at me, examining. She wrapped her arms in her cloak and pulled it tighter about her body.

"Huh?"

"You said 'I won't'," she said, moving closer to me.

"Oh." I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"If you're worried about failing," the sorceress said in a sultry voice that I couldn't quite tell if it was meant to be comforting or just creepy, "you won't. I know how hard you work."

"You would, wouldn't you," I said with my eyebrows raised. "You're like my shadow."

She smiled at me in a way that gave me chills.

"I try," she said, raising her chin a fraction. "But I actually had something I thought you ought to know... I considered keeping it to myself, but after today's meeting..."

"What is it?" I asked, intrigued now. Tharja could be strange, but she was an incredible sorceress.

She looked aside. "I... cast wards on the majority of the Shepherds. You might want to keep that in mind when you arrange us."

"Wards?"

"Just a little dark magic. It's a reflexive hex," she added, looking back at me with an evil little smile curling her mouth. "If someone should try cursing us, well, let's just say they will die a very unpleasant death. Very unpleasant indeed..."

"Tharja I'm not sure if I should hug you or run away screaming," I said with half a laugh.

"I'm sure we could come to some arrangement," she said, raising a hand towards me. "A lock of your hair maybe...?"

"No," Gregor said, appearing at her side and catching her wrist. "There will be no hair taking today, Arkelle has much work to be doing, yes?"

"Always," I told him, still somewhat stunned. Whatever she wanted my hair for... well it probably wasn't a wholesome reason. Then again, she had just admitted to casting wards over most of the Shepherds.

"See?" the redhaired mercenary said, looking down at Tharja who glared up at him. "She has many things. She cannot be giving hair right now."

"I just wanted to see her dreams," the dark haired woman sniffed, jerking her hand free.

He grinned. "If is dreams evil girl wants to be seeing, Gregor has something for that..."

Shaking my head I left the two of the bickering. I did have other things to be doing, and I didn't want to be roped into any more drinks with Gregor. I also didn't feel like giving up hair or my soul or anything.

What about your heart?

The thought came unbidden to my mind and made me pause. I'd given all of myself to the Shepherds... but was I ready to give up my heart? And if I did give it... how would it be received? I was surprised to find the feeling that came with the thought of rejection was painfully similar to the one which came over me when I thought of failing everyone in battle.

Love is a battlefield, I thought grimly before entering my tent. Too bad there wasn't anything in my texts that would help me in that fight.