Chapter 15: An escape.
Lucina begins to suspect that something is up. She can't quite put her finger on it. It's a shiver in her spine as she walks into the courtyard. It's in the itching of her ears as she's sat in the library. It's in the glances her friends send her when they think she's not looking.
She tries not to let it bother her. If it were anything important, someone would speak up, surely...
Still, Lucina can't help the growing feeling of frustration. She's noticing the instances more. She's starting to recognise a pattern.
Young Morgan is particularly conspicuous. The young girl is constantly appearing in her periphery, watching, rarely approaching unless she's found some unrelated excuse. There she is today, Lucina thinks, frowning up at the balcony above the training yard. If the behaviour hadn't been so conspicuous, Lucina would have thought the girl just enjoyed watching her fall off a horse.
Lucina huffs, having climbed back onto the back of her father's steed, listening to Stahl's latest recommendations. She wishes it was Cordelia teaching her. The Pegasus knight is much better at framing things in a way that Lucina understands. She goes to jump the fence again. This time the horse complies, only Lucina decides to up the ante. With a click and swerve of her thighs, she prompts the horse to try a much more ambitious trick.
There's a yell, as Stahl realises what's happening. She feels the lift following the heavy thunk of hooves hitting the ground. The horse whinnies loudly, and for a terrifying second Lucina fears that they won't make the jump. This isn't a Pegasus. People die from horse riding accidents. She remembers that one particularly graphic story Sully likes to tell as a cautionary tale...
Hooves clatter on stone, there's a shrill cry. Gravity reasserts itself and Lucina sits tall in her saddle as she confronts a rather surprised Morgan.
"Enjoying the show?" Lucina asks. Her heart is in her throat, but her voice comes out smooth and calm. Thank goodness for Miriam's elocution classes.
"Oh my word, Lucina, that's so cool!" Morgan gushes, once she regains her composure. She reaches for the horse, stroking its nose as she peaks back down to the grounds below. "That jump was at least ten feet! Wait until I tell my dad..."
Lucina glances back down to the yard. Stahl seems to be yelling himself hoarse with worry. Sheepish, Lucina dismounts while keeping hold of the horse's reins. She'd hiding, and she knows it. It's going to take some figuring out to get the horse back to the ground, she knows.
"Morgan, why are you watching me all the time?" Lucina asks. There's no point beating around the bush.
Morgan's smile freezes into place, clearly forced as she clears her throat.
"Me? Watching you all the time? What are you on about Lucina?"
It's an obvious lie. Lucina clenches her teeth and puts a hand to her hip. She tilts her head and frowns in the way that usually gets young Morgan to spill the beans. It's always worked before.
Morgan steps back, clearly cowed.
"Lo-look, it's nothing. I ca-ca-can't, I cannot say, really. Don't worry about it..." The young mage waves her hands around enthusiastically, chuckling a little. She's still backing away as though Lucina's away to draw a sword on her. Lucina can't say that it wouldn't be tempting if she did have her sword. "Oh, hey, look what time it is! I'd better run..."
"Morgan, get back here!" Lucina calls out, but it's too late. She can't chase after Morgan while holding the reins to her father's horse. She won't need to, she thinks... This section of the balcony is a dead end. The only way down is behind her...
Only Morgan never was one to use the stairs if an alternative presented itself.
"Morgan!" Lucina screams, seeing the teenager throw herself over the balcony wall.
Morgan seems unphased, pulling a tome from her cloak and saying simple words. Winds whip up a cloud of sand from the yard, buffeting her landing. The girl lands like a cat and runs, leaving behind a dishevelled Stahl and groaning Lucina. That girl will be the death of her.
Lucina's penance for giving Stahl the fright of his life is to head to the smiths and order new horseshoes for the stables. It's not something she's ever done before, but she's visited the smithy plenty. It's where her cousin Owain spends most of his time these days, when Lissa isn't dragging him to tea with Maribelle or getting his help on some prank she was determined to pull.
It makes Lucina a bit melancholy, when she thinks about it. Most of her friend circle are starting to find vocations that they are keen to excel in. Gerome has his sewing, Noire her plants, and Owain has his metal work. Even her brother Inigo has his dancing career all planned out. When she thinks about it, there are not many she can think of who don't seem to have some path they are enthusiastic to follow. Kjelle, perhaps? Soleil and Ophelia are certainly keen to not think on the future more than they need to... As for Lucina herself.
She stops and sighs, looking around the carriages littering the yard outside the Ylisstol Smithy. She sees the one reserved for royal outings, for when the Exalt is to tour the land and rain his blessings upon his people. She remembers, not without some pain, dreaming of seeing her Aunt Emmeryn in one such carriage. Dream-Lucina had been unable to save the then Exalt, even with prior knowledge of events. Those failings are not her own, Lucina knows, but it doesn't mean that she is any more prepared for the burden of leadership than her father was then.
Chrom's done a good job, despite it all. His reign knows a peace that did not exist under Emmeryn, despite her relentless efforts, and that certainly didn't exist under their father. Lucina knows, from her dreams, just how fragile peace can be. She doesn't have a brilliant tactician behind her, she doesn't even know if she'll find someone as supportive of her as her mother is to Chrom... That brings its own twisted knot of feelings to her gut. The malaise helps drive her thoughts away from the weight of the crown to Gerome's sudden distance on his latest visit. It's certainly not a thought she wants to dwell on.
She lengthens her strides and reaches the smithy doors in no time. She's away to enter when she notices a flutter of yellow from the corner of the building. Curious, she pauses, then circles around to find Odin Dark.
The mage from Nohr has certainly been a colourful addition to the castle's occupants. Unlike his compatriots, he doesn't seem to seamlessly slot into the barracks, instead preferring to spin epic tales to any who would listen and constantly pestering his friends into having some fun that doesn't involve going shopping. Lucina isn't entirely sure why the older Morgan brought them to Chrom's court, nor why her father was so keen for them to stay, but Lucina is certainly glad they did. For all the strangeness of the stories Odin tells, the sharpness of Selena's tongue and gaze, and Laslow's relentless flirting, there is a familiarity to them that really makes Lucina feel at home.
Lucina does not hesitate to approach Odin, though she makes no effort to distract him. It's rare to see him observing something with such rapt attention. His hands rest peacefully on the rim of the Smithy's window, his whole body caught mid motion, peering at the works happening inside. He doesn't even hear her approach, even though the gravel underfoot is bound to give her away.
Curious, she peers around the shutter to see inside as well. The hiss of fire, clanging of metal, the sounds are all familiar. She sees Owain in his metalworking apron, a grin splitting his face in two as he works his tools. A blade is glowing under his workmanship. It looks like magic, even though she knows it's not. Owain's talked her through the whole process more times than she cares to count.
"Look at that focus, that talent!" Odin whispers. One of his hands covers his mouth as tears form at the corner of his eyes. "That young man has a gift! Oh, to see Lissa's son grow into such a hard-working-craftsmen..."
He seems at a loss for words. Lucina glances back at Owain, who is clearly still unaware that he has an audience.
"Oh, I don't know." She quips, smirking as she spies Owain doing one of his completely unnecessary flourishes. Crossing her arms, she adds, just as Owain fumbles and nearly drops his project on the floor. "My cousin is still the same colourful character as always!"
Lucina nearly jumps out of her skin at Odin's sudden loud cry... But clearly not as much as he does. The Nohrian mage splutters and points, panting heavily with one hand against his heart.
"By the Darkness above, Princess Lucina! Where from did you appear with such cat-like tread? I did not realise you were at my side. Have the gods blessed you with the gift of teleportation?!"
"Ah..." It takes her a moment to translate his colourful phrasing, but the meaning is plenty clear. "My apologies, I did not mean to startle you, Odin."
"No worries, Lucina," Odin grins, flourishing his hand towards the front of the Smithy. Owain has noticed them and is waving at them to come in. "Let us pay your cousin a visit together..."
It's only after Lucina leaves, supplied with a sheet confirming the order, that she realises two things.
One: even an accomplished Mage and story-teller such as Odin is envious of others having a vocation. She need not worry so hard about her path in life.
And Two: something about the way Odin Dark says her name niggles at her. It feels familiar, in a way that she doesn't associate with him.
Oh well, it will come to her in time.
That night, she dreams that she removes the mask for a time. Her parents are getting married. There are no battles to fight for now. She can rest.
She finds a flower farm to help around. The sharpness of her blade is surprisingly suited to cutting stems. It feels like another life that she can lose herself in, although dream-Lucina knows it is only for a short time. War will come again, and when it does, she needs to be ready to return to her father's side.
When Lucina awakes, it is dark. Moonlight peers through her curtains as she gets a drink of water. A crazy thought occurs to her, as it usually does in these midnight hours. Older Morgan is on her mind, and she recalls the companionship she'd shared with the three Nohrians. They'd been war comrades. What if...
No, it's a silly thought she thinks. Still, her mind can't shake the possibility...
It would certainly explain why Owain, Severa and Inigo don't have dreams of fighting in their parents' war.
Lucina leans at her window, feels the cool air against her face. Something clicks into place. Her heart feels lighter. The next day, she's not so bothered by the glances anymore.