Lucina's had strange dreams for as long as she can remember. You've known this a long time. You have strange dreams too...
But where she dreams of a future that was averted, you dream of a time in which she is your mother.
Chapter 1: "Please don't say it's just a nightmare."
She sits and shivers in the armchair, her midnight hair coloured purple by the pre-dawn light. The light filters in through the curtains as you pull the window open; the air in the office feels stuffy, cloying, even though you know it is merely your imagination. Figments from your own terror-filled dream linger in your mind. You grab the blanket your father keeps on a shelf and drape it around her shoulders. Her eyes are fixed on the mug of tea in her hands.
For a minute, you forget that she's a child. You remember... You remember her as the woman from your dreams. You remember how desperate you were to help her smile.
It's bittersweet as you step back. She may have grown in the seven years since your mother left, but she is still a child. Only thirteen, the crown princess of Ylisse is far too young to be waking up in a cold sweat, screaming until her lungs give out.
"Lucina," you say. She doesn't hear you at first. Your heart aches. "Lucina..."
She startles. Her eyes are still wide with fear, you can tell by the way her brand glimmers.
"It's alright..." You say, your mouth automatically smiling. It's a reflex you learned as a child. One that reminded your mother of your uncle. You wonder what has become of him now. "If you don't want to talk about it, I'd understand, but..."
You kneel on the rug in front of her chair, fold your hands in your lap.
"I'd like to know... What's got you so afraid?"
Her grip tightens on the mug, drops of warm liquid spilling out. She's squaring her shoulders just like her father does before a difficult meeting. Your brow creases and smile drops. The silence builds, moment by moment. An owl hoots as the wind ruffles the curtains.
"I..." Her voice is barely audible as she rests the mug against her forehead. She sounds close to tears. "I don't... Please..." She looks away, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. "Please don't say it's just a nightmare."
It's not like you didn't expect her to mention a bad dream, but you sense that it goes deeper than that for her. You know, better than most, what she probably means.
For most people, a nightmare is a one-off after all. You stay quiet, your thoughts going back to your own dreams. Mother had seemed particularly melancholy tonight.
"I..." Hands shaking, Lucina puts the tea down on the floor. She's squaring her shoulders again. Her eyes are fixed on a point just above your head. Her tone becomes dead, factual, and you nearly flinch. It's so familiar yet wrong. "I dreamt that the castle was under attack. An army of Risen, undead warriors," she amends, "they came for me. I..." Her posture falters, her arms wrap themselves tightly around her torso. "So many people were dying, I... I couldn't save them. And then..." The princess swallows. "The... The Dragon came..."
You keep quiet, waiting. She'll either look you in the eye when she's finished or curl up into a ball.
"I think... It destroyed the main hall with a mere sweep of its horns. It... It was taunting me! I... It was away to kill me, and I couldn't look away. All I could do was scream and raise my father's sword at it..." Young Lucina pales and puts her face in her hands, her words become more rapid. "Good grief, I've woken up the whole castle with my screaming, haven't I? I punched uncle Frederick. What am I going to say to father when he returns from his trip? If...? I..."
A swear makes its way past your lips. Lucina's breathing is becoming laboured. She's panicking. Your father didn't bring you to her to get her panicked.
"Hey! Hey..." You move forward, quickly encircling her small frame with yours. Your arms hold her tight as she quakes and shivers. "It's okay. The Exalt and your mother will be back from their trip by lunchtime. And frankly if Freddy-bear can't take a punch by now, he's failed as a knight."
Lucina's eyes go wide at the mention of your father's nickname for Frederick. She stills, before small giggles start to make themselves known. "Yeah," you say, smiling. "I went there. Sir Frederick the wary is Freddy-bear." It's odd, discovering Lucina's surprise at the family nickname for Frederick, but it makes sense. Your father does tend to go out of his way to avoid the young princess.
Lucina's breathing normalises, and she shakes her head. You smirk at her bed hair. Severa would have had a fit. You lean back, and she rests her hands on your shoulders.
"Why can't I just have normal person dreams?" She sighs. You shrug. You know the why, but you can't say. Lucina pouts. "Inigo's dreams sound way more fun. Do you know what my brother dreams about?"
You shake your head. Your heart lifting at the Princess's now light-hearted tone.
"He dreams of a princess who turns into a dragon, a singer who can control water, or even a kingdom of floating islands reached by jumping into the depths of a ravine!" Her hands fly up into the air, mimicking the imagined scenes, before falling heavily to her lap. "I'm so tired of death and fighting monsters."
"Maybe we should get you back to bed." You say, patting Lucina's cheek as you notice her eyelids drooping. You stand, pulling her up out of her chair. "In my experience, dreams like yours only come once a night."
She stands, lets you take her hand, but her gaze is intense. She stares at you, not moving for a moment. You can see the gears turning in her head. You inwardly curse.
"How do you know that?" Trust Lucina to be perceptive.
"I..." You remember the look of utter defeat across her features, as she begged you not to dismiss it as a nightmare. The deflection dies upon your lips. You owe her the truth at least. You throat goes dry. A hint of truth will have to do. "I'm... aware that your dreams are sequential." You nod towards the door and start leading her back through the corridors. It still feels strange being taller than her. "It's been that way as long as you can remember, hasn't it?"
Lucina nods, her expression serious and attentive. You hesitate. She's not yet fourteen, she's still too young, but...
"When... When you were little, I remember your parents asking a... a friend of mine for advice about your dreams... You won't remember them." The lie tastes foul on your tongue. "But I... She..."
You stop just short of the door to Lucina's room. You're at a loss for words. You've spent the last seven years learning so much about your mother, how she was always the one giving you words of comfort... You miss her so much. It feels strange to be giving words of comfort to her younger self. You sigh.
"You'll be alright, kiddo." You say, giving her one last squeeze of the shoulder.
Lucina doesn't look fully satisfied, but she's smart enough to know when not to push the subject.
"Thanks, miss Morgan." She nods, looks up at you with a small smile. "I really appreciated your help tonight. Sorry for waking you up."
You feel a lump forming in your throat. "No problem, I was awake anyway."
You turn to leave after seeing Lucina walk through the door to her room, only to hear her voice timidly calling your name once more.
"Hm?" You feel exhausted. Your father had asked you to report to him after making sure Lucina was okay. Your bed beckons. Lucina's eyes are wide as she stands half hidden by her doorframe.
"Would... Could you stay? Until I fall back to sleep? Please?" Her eyes are so round as she speaks. You are intimately reminded of little Morgan. It's the look she uses on father when she really wants something. At least now you know where she got it from.
"Sure," you reply, tilting your head to the side in amusement. How could you say no?
Lucina falls asleep swiftly, her hand hanging off the bed to hold yours. You sit on the floor, on a spare cushion for comfort. You adjust yourself so her hand rests on your shoulder, still within your grasp. You only promised to stay till she drifted off, but you find yourself unable to leave. It feels so right to be sat there, by her side. It fills you with a nostalgia that is pleasant but that you know will be short lived. This Lucina is not your mother, might never become her. She deserves to be her own person.
Still, as you sit in the dark room, slowly nodding off as the sun begins to rise, you can't help but feel her warm presence at your back and relive your dreams. You are nine, living in a world made desolate by the presence of the dark god Grima. The outlook is bleak, but it is all you've ever known. You laugh, you smile, you make up games to play in the hard drudge of survival. Your mother calls you her light, and you feel safe. You know that she'll always be there to protect you.
You squeeze the hand on your shoulder one last time before nodding off. You don't notice the door opening. Your father looks in and shakes his head with a smile. You wake up three hours later with a crick in your neck.