Birth and Re-Death

Chapter 19: Chrom Thinks about Punching Me

Normally I walk toward the front of the caravan, but in our haste to get on the road, I had to have my usual strategy meeting with Robin while the command cart was already in motion. As a result, when I hop out of the cart, I find myself in the middle of the group. I'd prefer to be at the front of the pack with Frederick, ready to respond if we meet anything on the road. I feel too insulated here.

On my way to the front, though, I'm given pause when I see her. Well, the back of her. But that distinctive curling hairstyle is unmistakably hers. To this day I have no idea when or how she finds the time to maintain it that way.

She rides alone, stiff in the shoulders and seemingly going out of her way to keep her head facing forward. I've known her long enough to know what she looks like when she's upset. That is one upset Maribelle.

Should I say something? I only caught the very end of whatever she and Randall were fighting about last night, but it sounded serious. We've had so little time to talk lately. If I'm being honest with myself, I miss it more than I thought I would. Normally I can't stand something as sedentary as taking tea for hours on end and chatting about nothing of real substance, but she's always made it easy somehow.

"Hey, Chrom," Lissa says, tugging on my cape behind me. "You doing okay?"

I turn to look at her as we walk. "Hardly. There couldn't be much more worry on my mind, really. The more that I hear about the conditions of West Ylisse, the more sure I am that we shouldn't have let Emm go like that. We received reports that Lord Aventine is still unaccounted for, which doesn't bode well. Robin's a pragmatic woman, but she's hardly the type to soften alarming news. She doesn't like the timeframe we're looking at. The supplies we picked up in Darros Town will prove useful, but any amount of time lost is just that: lost."

"I'm… trying not to think about that right now, actually," Lissa says, looking down for a moment.

"O-oh. Sorry," I say, trying my best to be gentle and brotherly.

She looks back up. "No, I was talking about… you know…" She nods up ahead.

"Lissa, this is hardly the place to talk about that!" I protest. I really do not want to have this conversation right now.

She frowns. "We're pretty much only on the road like this these days. If there's another time or place to talk about anything, I sure don't see it."

I don't respond for a moment. She's got a point, I can't deny it. "Well then, yes, I'm doing alright in that regard."

"Are you sure?" she prods. "It doesn't bother you at all to see her with someone else? I mean, I see you make googly eyes at her whenever you think no one's looking."

"I'm sure that Randall is being more than cordial with her. I mean, this recent fight notwithstanding. As long as she's happy, that's all that matters to me," I say, admittedly a little sullenly. After my talk with Randall the other day, I can't even deny that he's a well-meaning man. He genuinely seems to want the best not only for Maribelle, but for me as well. Well, not counting what Frederick is constantly insinuating about him, but frankly all that is a little hard to believe even now. He just seems to be an odd, but kind man. Makes it impossible to dislike him as a partner for her without admitting my own bias.

"Right, you sound so happy," Lissa deadpans. "Look, I'm not trying to say that you should wedge yourself between them and try to break them up or anything. I'm just trying to make sure that you're, you know, doing okay. It can't be easy to see her with someone else, even if it's one of our allies she ended up with."

"Lissa, I have bigger things to worry about," I say, exasperated.

"I know, I know. But this war won't last forever. When it's over, I don't want you to have any… I guess regrets?" Lissa replies, sounding unsure.

"If I don't stay focused on the war effort, then my regrets will be much bigger than whether I managed to nail down the girl I was most fond of. I have to focus on keeping her, and everyone else, alive. I know it's different for you, because you don't lead this team, but for me, I have to be a leader first, with everything else in a distant second until the conflict is ended."

Her brows furrow. I accidentally struck an old, yet still sore, nerve. "Hey, it's not like I don't want to lead at all! Every time I try, you and Emm have blocked me from getting actually involved. I get shut out of council conclaves, out of strategy meetings; I don't even get to be in the command tent with you and Robin working out a path for a day's march! I might as well not be a member of the Exalted family at all! All I get to do is hear about what I should be worrying about secondhand!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Lissa, like I've been trying to say: you don't actually want this. It's a constant weight on my shoulders, day in and day out. Robin seems to thrive on it, and good for her, but I don't want to lead; I have to. Emm is a symbol of peace and harmony, which is important, but it wasn't enough to hold back war after all. I'm the only one of us who can wield Falchion. I'm the one that has to take up the mantle when the time for diplomacy is over. Emm might think she can pull a peaceful resolution out of this even now, but it's my job to make sure that when she fails, we have something else ready. That's why we need Ferox. That's why I need to lead. That's why I have to stay focused. And that's why I have no gods damned time to worry about who the hell Maribelle is dating!"

Lissa is quiet for a moment. "...When."

"What?"

"You said 'when.' As in, 'when she fails.' You've already decided that she's going to fail. That she won't be able to keep order. Gods, Chrom, it's like you want to go to war with Gangrel!"

I hadn't been thinking when I said that. I can't lie, though. "Maybe I do! The man is homicidally insane! Someone needs to put him and those that follow him out of their misery," I say bitterly. "After what he did to Maribelle, your best friend, I would think you'd agree with me."

"I still believe in our sister! I think that we can keep order, that we can still fix this. Not every war has to end with thousands of deaths, Chrom," she says. "You… you shouldn't want that. No matter what happens. We have to be the good guys. We can't be the people that want a ton of death and destruction, even if the other side might deserve it. Even if we have to do it."

"You're too young to remember it, Lissa," I reply. "But I do. The way he was. The way the whole country was. We weren't a nation of good guys. Ylisse sought to wipe the Grimleal from the earth, and we had the fervor to do it. The only thing we lacked was the resources. Men and weapons were in short supply, but it wasn't until our father was cut down that the will to slaughter the Grimleal even began to subside. If he hadn't died when he did, who knows when the war would have ended? No, there weren't any good guys in that conflict."

Lissa takes a moment to collect her thoughts. She faces forward as she says, "Well, like you said, I can't speak for the Ylisse of the past, because I don't really remember it. I don't think we have to be connected to that. You don't have to be like… him."

"Even when basically everyone older than you remembers how it was before? I was only, what, six or seven when Father was killed, but I will never forget it. The past isn't so easily left behind." I look down. "Maybe this war was inevitable."

She looks out of the corner of her eye at me. "Don't discount what Emm did for this country. Even if the peace she fought for couldn't last forever, it was still worth doing. It saved Ylisse, and probably Plegia too. I know we can bring that peace back, somehow."

My fist tightens at my side. "I'll make that peace happen. By whatever means are necessary."

Lissa frowns again, slowing down to let me outpace her. "Just… be careful, Chrom."

As if I'm not being careful already. As if I haven't been the one forging a path forward for the survival of Ylisse. As if she has any idea what it's like to be in my position. Any right to look down on me and tell me I'm wrong to want to avenge the Ylisseans that have already died in the Mad King's war.

What on earth is Emm thinking? The time for peace passed when Gangrel's men invaded Themis, didn't it? Gangrel was after war, and our only options were to fight back or give up. But it still seems like Emm refuses to do either. How can she be that way? How long can that keep up? Peace is good, but we have to earn it. She just wants to demand it and expect it to happen. You can't just answer 'No' to a war challenge. If someone's coming after your loved ones, you fight back. And if they keep coming, you've got no choice but to kill them before they kill you or yours. I've always trusted her, but this… It seems shortsighted. Naive. Childish, even.

I'm in a bad mood now. In the evening, when Frederick and I are sparring, I hit him with a Luna strike harder than I meant to. Lissa looks at me in concern as she puts his shoulder back together. I find I can't meet her eye.

"Ah, Lord Chrom. Welcome back. Khan Flavia has been waiting for your return," Raimi says, gesturing for me and the rest of the Shepherds to enter the palace.

"Thank you, Raimi," I say as we pass through the doorway and, at last, out of the cold. I feel, rather than hear, a collective sigh of relief from the others as they experience the very welcome change in temperature.

We get settled in, at least as much as necessary, but I'm already antsy to get moving for Ylisse once again. I find myself pacing the grand hall up and down for much of the afternoon, despite Frederick's request that I lie down and get some rest.

"Frederick, how on earth am I supposed to rest?" I ask incredulously. "The moment the Khan's forces are ready, I want to be back on the road as quickly as possible. I can't afford to rest right now."

He stands firm, as always. "My apologies for my impertinence, milord. I merely am concerning myself with how you will fare when we begin our return journey. It would hardly do to have our commander overly fatigued before the journey homeward even begins, wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't have time to rest with this much at stake, Frederick," I counter. "If I were to lie down and try to rest now, it would just cause me to knot up my idle muscles in worry. This way, I'm staying loose, ready to move at a moment's notice."

Frederick nods. "Very well, then. I will leave you to it."

Robin enters the grand hall, carrying with her a small sheet of paper, no doubt from one of her informants. I've learned to hate those missives lately.

I sigh. "What have you got, Robin?"

She holds up the paper, as if I hadn't seen it hanging at her side. "Grim news, I'm afraid. The report suggests that an invasion force will arrive at Ylisstol soon. Sooner than we could likely get back, even if we left right this minute. It's likely that when we return, the capital will be in a state of total siege."

"That's…" I'm not sure what to say. I feel a tightening in my chest. Is this the peace you thought you could bargain for, Emm? Is this what you going back has bought us? I feel fear and uncertainty grip my heart like a frosty metal gauntlet.

I didn't see or hear Lissa come in as well. She's saying something, but I'm only half-listening, or perhaps quarter-listening. It's a sort of vague buzz in my ears as I try to grapple with this news.

It looks like quite a few Shepherds have entered the grand hall now, most of whom stand near the wall. I notice Maribelle lingering to the side, a noticeable distance from Randall. She looks as worried as the rest of the Shepherds at hearing this news.

I don't know what I can say. There's nothing to say. We were too slow? We shouldn't have let Emm go back? The city of Ylisstol has just about no chance of surviving a siege without the Shepherds there to break the invasion? Is that what anyone wants to hear?

Lissa is in front of my face. "Chrom? Say something! Say, 'Yes, of course we will!'"

I hadn't really been paying attention to whatever she was talking about. "...I'm sorry, Lissa. What?"

She turns around, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Ugh, fine! Never mind! Let me know when you get out of your own head for a second!"

Oh, I'm sorry Lissa, did I forget to drop everything on my mind to address whatever it is you were going on about? It's not like we just got the worst news of the entire war just now or anything. I manage to hold my tongue, but not by much.

When did Sumia walk over to us…?

"Snap out of it, Captain!" she cries.

WHAM

My vision lights up in painful stars as my neck whips around from the force of the right hook Sumia just delivered to my face.

A rush of blood fills my face, and I feel my temper rise instantly. "OW! What the hell was that for?" I demand of her.

Her hands immediately fly to her face, already deeply reddening in shame. "Oh no! ...Did I do it wrong? Captain Phila said sometimes a good slap will break someone out of their doldrums," she attempts to explain around her hands.

I can't tell whether Lissa looks aghast or if she's stifling laughter at the ridiculousness of all this. "Sumia, when you slap someone, you do it with an open palm. You just punched Chrom in the face!"

If possible, Sumia reddens more deeply. "Um... It's the thought that counts?" she offers weakly.

My cheek feels incredibly hot, and I can feel a bit of swelling already. "Gods, that seriously hurt…" I say, my temper beginning to cool even as I say it.

Nearby, I hear a few of the Shepherds doing their best to keep from laughing themselves. It seems that even in the midst of impending chaos, these knuckleheads can still find something to smirk about. The realization takes some of the edge off my anger and fear. They're holding onto hope, enough so that they can smile even now. Maybe I need to be able to do something similar.

Just then, a familiar voice interrupts my thoughts. "Ha ha! What's wrong, my dear prince? Sometimes love hurts! You're lucky to have strong women like these, and not just dainty flowers about." Khan Flavia has arrived at last. She plants a hand, hard, on my shoulder. "In any case, I bring good news. The Feroxi army has finally mobilized. Every last man is itching to fight. I must say, I'm looking forward to savoring a skirmish or two myself."

Finally! I feel a weight lift from my shoulders at this news. Oh, wait. She just removed her hand. Even so, we can finally get a move on. Hold on, though. She just said something odd. "...Wait. You're coming along?"

Flavia guffaws. "Of course! A khan must have her fun. I'm even bringing my insignificant other."

"Your who?" I ask, in spite of myself. I just can't picture this woman being the type to marry.

"Basilio," she says simply. "The oaf isn't good for much, but he might stop a few stray arrows. In any case, he is bringing along his division as well. They should arrive first thing in the morning."

Ugh. More holdups. "My thanks, Khan Flavia," I say as sincerely as possible without betraying the impatience and irritation underneath. "Ylisse owes you a debt."

She waves a hand. "Nothing to concern yourself with just yet. We've just as much a stake in stopping the Plegians as you. No one supposes that Gangrel will truly be content to stop at just conquering one of our nations. This enemy of yours is an enemy of ours as well, make no mistake."

I nod. "All the same, your help is appreciated."

She beams. "In any case, you and yours are welcome to stay the night. I hope you'll find our accommodations to your taste."

"I'm sure we will. Thank you again, Khan," I say, and the Shepherds disperse to prepare for staying here tonight. I know better than to go and get my own bag; I wouldn't be surprised if Frederick has already gone out to the convoy and brought it inside himself.

Even though we now have a specifically set time for our departure tomorrow, I still find that I can't settle down. The khan was kind enough to offer me use of her training yard to practice. Throwing blow after blow at the wood and metal dummy feels good, but a little muted. I really need to let off some steam.

I whirl Falchion around and stake it into the ground, getting into a hand-to-hand combat stance. I throw a jab, then another, then a third at the dummy. It hurts, even though I'm wearing gloves. It feels good.

Left hook. Right jab. Solar plexus, then face, then throat. Hit, hit, hit. Duck. Weave. Where is he going to be? Where will he open himself next? I picture Gangrel's face on the dummy. For a while, I picture my father, too. Soon I imagine Gangrel again, though. Hit, hit, hit. No reprieve. No breaks.

I will admit, just once I imagine it's Randall. Just once. It was a good hit, though. Probably would've broken his nose. I suspect Frederick would be more than fond of such a prospect.

I'm still laying hits on it when I hear from behind me, "Milord?"

I pause mid-swing and turn. Of all the people it could've been…

"Good evening, Maribelle."

"To you as well, milord. I hope I'm not interrupting," she says. She holds a metal canteen out to me, and I accept it and take a few generous gulps. Feroxi spring water truly is something special.

"Not at all," I say once I've caught my breath. "I was thinking of calling it in here pretty soon regardless."

Suddenly, she gasps. "Milord! What on earth have you done to your hands? They're bleeding clean through your gloves!" She pulls out her healing staff seemingly from nowhere. "Let me take a look at them, please!"

I hadn't noticed. "Oh, so they are. Right then," I say, wincing as I pull the now quite worn gloves off. Underneath, my fingers are bruised and bloodied.

"Oh my goodness, of all the… Here, just a moment, and I'll have you fixed up," she says, holding her staff aloft. Light flows from the staff into my hands, and I suck air through my teeth to keep from groaning in pain as the digits are put back in proper order.

Once the job is done, I flex my fingers one by one to make sure they're all in working condition. "Thanks, Maribelle," I say, trying my best to look nonchalant.

She smiles at me. "My pleasure, though I must caution you about doing that sort of thing in the future. A broken hand can hardly heft the blade of legend, after all."

"As long as I've got someone like you around to put my hands back together, I'm not too worried," I reply. Whoa there buddy. She's got a boyfriend now, so you can't keep talking like that to her.

It's admittedly nice to see it can still make her blush a little when I do that, though. "You're too kind, milord," she says.

More to remind myself of the boundaries in place than anything, I ask, "So, how are you and Randall doing? It's no secret that the pair of you have had eyes for each other for a while, and all..." I falter.

The smile on her face cracks. "If I'm being honest, milord. And you cannot tell a soul, you understand." I nod. "It's been less than stellar lately, I'm afraid. It started off, I suppose you could call it emotionally heightened. He had just recently been nearly killed for what I believe was the third time in as many weeks. The relief at seeing him alive, along with… everything else that had been building up over time, I suppose… It led me to make some impulsive decisions. Not that I regret them! Not exactly. And it does seem that he returns my feelings, which is a comfort. But I'm beginning to think that perhaps… we rushed things. Or went about them in the wrong way."

I'm not sure what to say. I eventually settle for, "Sounds pretty complicated."

She nods. "It is. And normally, I'd have Lissa to talk to about such things, as we always have when young men have pursued her in the past. But in this case, I can't quite… It's not that I don't trust her. It's just that, well…"

"She's Lissa," I finish.

Her eyes light up briefly. "Exactly. So while she of course has my interests at heart, she might talk to Randy about these worries I'm having before I can work them through in my own head, and that would cause no end to my worries."

"I can understand that," I say.

"And I do apologize for bothering you with this. I know how busy you are with everything that's going on, so it's hardly fair for me to add my own personal drama to the pile," she says, suddenly looking quite guilty.

I give a small smile. "I can always make time for your worries, Maribelle," I say. She has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend, you idiot.

A smile breaks through on her face as well. "If you say so, milord."

I direct her to sit with me on a bench nearby. Before we sit, I have to clear off about six inches of snow that have accumulated on top. "So, what are you going to do?" I ask once we're seated.

"I don't know, to be perfectly honest. I don't want to just give up, because there is something there. I know that much. It's just… I feel as if he doesn't truly trust me," she admits.

"Why do you think that?"

Even on this dark, snowy night, I can see her redden slightly. "Truth be told, I did happen to overhear a conversation he had while on night watch not too long ago. He spoke with Robin about the worries that hang over him in regards to killing others. It's not my place to say exactly what he said, but… The issue is, earlier that very day he told me that he had no worries he thought worth sharing with me. That if he had any such worries, he would come to me. And when I heard him sharing those thoughts instead with Robin, it got me thinking about all the time he's spent with her. They seem to understand each other so readily. They get along so well, and I… admittedly, I get a touch jealous. There, I said it. I don't much like the way he seems to trust her more than me, then acts as if nothing is the matter."

I ponder what she said for a little while. Eventually, a response comes to me.

I can't believe I'm going to try to fix this relationship.

"Well, let me put it to you like this. Do you remember what you said to me earlier in this very conversation about coming to me?" I ask.

"I… I don't follow, milord."

"You told me that you didn't want to trouble me on account of all the other worries on my plate, right?" She nods. "Have you considered that he might be doing the same thing for you?"

She takes in my words for a moment. "You think he sought only to protect me from those worries he had?"

I shrug. "I guess I can't say exactly, but if I had to guess, then that's what I would say. Plus, as far as his desire to talk to Robin about it goes, let me put this to you. Should Lissa find out that you came to me with this, would she have the right to be upset about it? Should she feel betrayed?"

"Of course not!" Maribelle says, then pauses. "...I see. Perhaps that makes more sense than I gave him credit for. But it still suggests that he doesn't think me capable of handling his worries!"

"Maybe it does. Maybe you've still got to work some issues out. But I think both of you could do with seeing things from the other's perspective as much as possible," I say.

She smiles. "That's sage advice, milord. I must admit, I did not anticipate you being such a valuable source of wisdom on the subject."

I smirk. "Maybe I'm just more emotionally empathetic and sensitive than people give me credit for," I say. I think for a moment, pondering whether to ask the question on my mind. It's personal, probably too personal. Not to mention selfish to ask. I would be asking purely for my own benefit.

I decide I will ask anyway. I can't help it. "What is it about him that drew you to him?"

She considers for a moment. "I suppose it's the way he… I mean, the fact that…" she pauses again. "No, I'm not being honest. In truth, I would have to say I don't know. He just… did."

"Did what?"

"Make me care for him. I do care deeply for him, but even as I sit here talking to you, I couldn't tell you when I started to. Or even why." She looks down. I can tell something's on her mind. Is it my place to probe deeper? I've already broached a personal topic getting this far. Perhaps it's not for me to dig any more. I have no idea what to say. I end up saying nothing at all.

I want to say something, do something, anything to help. But there's nothing. Just like when I watched Emm walk away, back into the heart of danger. I just stood there, just like I'm sitting here now. I clench a fist, furious at myself for my inability.

She breaks the silence. "I should retire for the evening. It will be another long day in these frozen wastes tomorrow, after all." She stands up and heads for the door. "Good night, milord."

"Good night, Maribelle," I say as she heads inside.

When I was moving, it wasn't so bad, but when I'm just sitting on the bench, it starts getting cold very quickly. Eventually I decide I'll duck inside too. I doubt I can sleep very well, but I may as well try.

As I head up to my room, I find someone else that must be having a difficult time getting to sleep. Tonight's just chock-full of coincidences, isn't it?

"Ah, hey there Cap'n," Randall says, rising from the chair he was hunched over in before.

I hold up a hand. "Don't get up on my account, Randall," I say.

He pauses for a moment, then gestures to his already standing body. "Little late. Oh well. I guess I don't need to ask what's got you up so late."

"Is it so obvious?" I ask.

"In the sense that if I were you, and it were my sister in danger, and my country being invaded, I'd have a tough time sleeping too," he says simply.

I nod. "I guess that would make it pretty obvious, then. What about you?"

He waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, you know. Fun with funky dreams keeping me awake lately. I've got my own worries stewing about this war, too. Even if Ylisse isn't my home country, I do care about it."

"I appreciate it." He nods. "You know, if Frederick knew you were up so late on your own, he'd probably be pretty suspicious," I say.

"Well first off, I assume he does know I'm up. I figure it's safer to assume he always knows where I am and what I'm doing. And second, that's just who he is. If there were two of him, they'd hate each other because each of them would be suspicious of the other one spending so much time with you," he replies.

I laugh. "Not an unfair assessment. But he's been right enough times that I at least try to take him seriously most of the time." I haven't forgotten, Randall, what he told me about what he saw just before the first attempt on Emm's life. What he says he saw you doing. I've been giving you the benefit of the doubt, because I think you really do want to help this army, not hurt it. But I haven't forgotten. I don't tell him any of this, of course.

"I suppose after years of service, he's earned that much," Randall comments, shrugging. "Anyway, I really should try to get some rest. Same with you. We're back at it tomorrow, after all." He turns to leave. "Night, Chrom."

I open my mouth. Should I tell him about the conversation I had with Maribelle? Would it ultimately help things? I can't say, so I decide to leave it for now. "Good night, Randall," is all I say.

It does take a great deal of effort, but eventually, a fitful sleep does overtake me for the night.

"Our scouts have reported back. Dark news, I'm afraid… Your Exalt has been captured."

"What?" I demand, putting considerable energy into restraining myself from grabbing Basilio by the collar.

"The siege is ongoing, but it seems that Exalt Emmeryn never made it that far. She was intercepted east of Ylisstol, and has been taken captive by Gangrel. She's going to be executed one month from now."

The word hits me like a punch to the gut. "Executed?" I breathe the question like the word is poison.

Beside me, Lissa moans quietly, slipping and almost falling to the floor. Fortunately, she's caught by Robin, who lifts her back up until she can get her bearings again.

Flavia growls, "The bastard isn't even trying to be subtle at this point."

Robin nods. "Agreed. This reeks of a trap."

Basilio nods too. Apparently we've all been admitted into the Nodding Club. He starts saying something, but I can feel a fire building in my gut that blots out my senses. I haven't felt this in a long time, but it's unmistakable.

I felt this fire when I heard that my father had been killed.

The words spill out of me. "Shepherds! To arms! We're marching for Plegia, right now!"

Basilio rests a beefy hand on my shoulder. He clears his throat. "Well yes, that is one option, but I urge you to think–"

"This is no time for thinking!" I bark. "This is the time for action. He has my sister! That bastard has my sister, and he plans to murder her! That's all I need to know."

Flavia places a hand on my other shoulder. The pair of them force me to look at them. Flavia speaks up. "No one is suggesting we just leave her to die, Chrom. But we have to be smart about this. If this is going to work, we are going to need guts and wits in equal measure."

Robin stands between them. "She's right, Chrom. I can do this. I can form a strategy to save Exalt Emmeryn."

When I look in her eyes, at the lightning crackling behind that look, I can see that she's not lying.

"Not every war has to end with thousands of deaths, Chrom. You… you shouldn't want that. No matter what happens. We have to be the good guys. We can't be the people that want a ton of death and destruction, even if the other side might deserve it. Even if we have to do it."

I swallow, trying my hardest to control the fire burning in my gut. I need someone like her to temper this fire. I need her guidance to point this fiery passion in the right direction.

"Alright, Robin," I say at last. "I leave it to you."

She grins with confidence, and a hint of something else. Something almost scary.

"General, what's this I've been hearing about the Exalt?" Aventine asks the seated Berserker general, who is currently rubbing his forehead in contemplation. "That she's been captured outside Ylisstol. Is it true?"

Mustafa sighs, lowering his hand and looking at the nobleman. "Yes, the rumors are true. She's been taken into custody."

"Dare I hope it's good news?" Aventine asks, almost holding his breath.

"As much as I am fond of hope, in this case it's futile. Gangrel's men have her," Mustafa says.

Aventine kicks a nearby mug, spilling its contents onto the stone floor. "Damnation! What about Chalard and his men? Why weren't they the ones to find her?"

Mustafa rises from his chair and picks up the fallen mug. Carrying it over to a nearby table, he says, "It seems Gangrel has reassigned Chalard's men to the northern desert. They were, and are, nowhere near Ylisse. I'm told it was General Campari who ultimately found her."

Aventine's eyes widen. "Do you suppose he suspects something?"

The general sits down again. "Who could say? Personally, I'm more inclined to suspect that witch of his is behind this. She's shrewd, and cunning, and certainly ruthless, but aside from that we know little about her, and even less about what she herself knows."

Aventine holds his face in his hands. "Things are spiraling out of control so quickly, Mustafa."

Mustafa nods slowly. "They are indeed. If things continue on this trajectory, we may not be able to accomplish everything in time."

"It's one thing if she came into our possession, but who knows what Gangrel will do with her? No doubt he'll provoke the Ylisseans all the more by holding her up like a juicy steak, just drawing in more conflict. This is exactly what we wanted to avoid!" Aventine shouts.

Mustafa is comparatively calm. "There is nothing we can do for now, Aventine."

The door to the right bursts open, and a young boy of about nine or ten rushes in, lightly slapping Mustafa's knee as he runs past. "Tag, Daddy! You're it!"

Mustafa sighs. "I thought I told you, Mikkel… Could you come get him, Henry?" he calls in the direction of the open door.

"Hee hee! Sorry General!" the young Dark Mage calls back, stepping into the doorway. "Come on, Mikkel! We can't play here right now. Your daddy's busy." He gestures with a hand for the boy to follow him.

Mikkel pouts, but follows Henry's command, trudging out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Aventine clears his throat. "Now then, what on earth are we going to do now?"

Mustafa closes his eyes for a moment. "Aventine. The way things are going now, it's very possible I won't be able to avoid fighting the Ylisseans myself. If it comes to that, you have to be ready to take this operation over. Please, follow me. There are some things I must show you."

A/N: So, how'd I do? First time taking a stab at an entire chapter from another character's perspective. I hope I managed to stay convincingly in character for Chrom. I think the game kind of glosses over his more angry and temperamental nature sometimes, but I think it's super interesting, and it merited further exploration. So I hope you liked it!

As you all know, I love reading your feedback, even and especially those that bring up concerns you guys have about my style. In particular, I got a great one from Some Guy in an Ambulance, and I'd like to address it a little. I agree that Randall acts kind of childish sometimes and isn't frequently punished for it, but I do hope you decide to stay and see where this gravy train is rolling! Suffice it to say, he doesn't get to get away with it forever. As I hope this chapter demonstrated, a lot of characters have some lessons to learn, not least of which is my boi. As for why Robin wanted to see if he could use Thunder magic, I guess you could say I'm kinda playing fast and loose with character classes a little. After all, healers can eventually become Sages, which can use anima magic, so it stands to reason that one could conceivably have the aptitude for it even early on. Of course, Randall doesn't, but that was Robin's logic. I think the class system works well for gameplay, but not so much for storytelling. A priest could totally pick up a sword if it was a real emergency, even if he would suck with it. Is light magic a thing in Awakening's world, by the way? I'm not inherently opposed to just making something up, but I'm wondering if there's a precedent for it.

To Mark the Mark: I had a ton of fun watching your reviews coming in, updating me on where you were. It put a big grin on my face to see your thoughts as you went along.

Speaking of frequent reviewers, I totally missed giving my man Scorin a shoutout for your frequent feedback as well last time! I really appreciate it buddy :)

There were also a lot of reviews speculating on the meaning behind that fun little number with Maribelle last time, and that of course made me happy as a lark. It was really fun to see people's thoughts on where I'm going with that. I'll go so far as to say that at least one of you guys came very close to the mark :P

Once more, of course, Syntaxis deserves major props for helping me work out some major kinks with this chapter. Thanks again for your help!

As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!