Chapter 10) Don't Say Her Name

We failed. Emmeryn's dead. We failed.

The rain made it hard to run. We were already tired, of course. Injured, even. And the rain was cold. It was cold, and it battered our shoulders and backs. I almost thought we'd bruise from it. Quite a few people slipped and fell in the mud. Those that fell more than twice were thrown onto horses. Panne and Nowi even transformed and let themselves be rode by some of the lighter members, just because we didn't have enough mounts to cover everyone who tripped.

"Robin, we need to keep going," I whispered, holding onto his hand tightly. He didn't say anything, but squeezed my hand back and did his best to keep up the rather brutal pace I set. Normally, he was far faster than I, but the stress of everything hit him hard. It was hard to know what afflicted him more: exhaustion, guilt, or pain. "One foot in front of the other."

"Why does this seem familiar?" he murmured. He stumbled, but I caught him. "A second…"

"Just the one." I glanced around, making sure no one had been left behind. I paid closer attention to Chrom and Lissa, but thankfully, Frederick and Maribelle had them still. I just had to focus on Robin, and trust the rest watched each other. "And we've run a lot."

"With such pain in our hearts?"

"...Yeah. It's not the first time we've seen friends die. It's just… the most recent."

"Ah." He looked down at the muddy ground, and absently kicked a puddle. "If only there was a way to remember the good and forget the bad. Maybe I'll ask Tharja for a curse."

"Please don't. I've already dealt with you amnesiac once." I shook my head, grimacing as my hair stuck awkwardly to my neck. Night was falling, so the temperature was dropping on top of the chilling rain. "We have to keep moving. We're going to freeze."

"We can't keep up this pace."

"We're not surviving this cold. We have no shelter." To throw off pursuers, we'd thrown the 'not essential' supplies down other paths. The tents had been among the last bits thrown. "Basilio said we're not far."

"This is my fault. If I-"

"If you've the breath for guilting yourself, you've the breath to run." I snatched his hand again and tugged. "Come on, we need to-" I yelped as I was suddenly splashed. It took a few seconds to realize it was because an arrow had flopped into the ground in front of me. "Oh, damn it…"

"So, you did divert to the Midmire." An older man stepped out from behind one of the 'giant rocks', really vertebrae of Grima's spine, and faced us with a carefully blank look on his face. "Henry was right, then," he murmured. More soldiers stepped out, and I ground my teeth. We'd run into a trap. "Quite the place to run to."

"Well, the idea had been that you all would think it too crazy," Basilio sighed, looking very exasperated. He stepped up to the front, keeping his axe to his side. Flavia lingered behind, though, with her sword unsheathed. "Midmire is a forsaken land with lots of floods."

"Hiding in audacity. Considering your plan earlier, and how many of our own you bested with it, I suppose it isn't surprising." The man frowned slightly. "My name is Mustafa, Ylisseans. I offer you a mercy. Surrender now, and live."

"Surrender?" Basilio scoffed. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with the word, especially from one of Gangrel's dogs."

"Thankfully, Feroxi Khan, I am not speaking to you. I am speaking to the Ylisseans. I know you are here with them as an ally." Mustafa looked over all of us, and his gaze focused on Chrom, half-hidden behind Frederick. "There you are. Now, Prince Chrom… Exalt Emmeryn-

"Don't say her name!" Chrom instantly snapped. He snarled, eyes flashing in fury. He might've lunged if not for Frederick. "Don't you dare say her name, Plegian!"

"...Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom," Mustafa whispered. "But the meaning of your sister's sacrifice was not lost on me." He held out his hand to Chrom. "If you lay down your weapons, I vow to protect you as best as I can."

"...But you can't do that, can you?" I whispered. I stepped forward, looking at the soldiers. They looked tired, shaken. "Gangrel would never allow it. At the least, Chrom would die. A man that could laugh at a suicide is not one to be trusted, and by consequence, no matter how sincere you might actually be, you cannot be trusted either."

"Your eyes see much." His own eyes narrowed slightly and they flicked to my hair, a common color among Plegians, and my eyes. "You remind me of a priestess who disappeared fifteen years ago."

"The world is funny like that." I shrugged. "Can you not just let us pass?"

"Alas, I cannot. Gangrel has his hold on me as well. Please, surrender."

"Given your king, we're better off taking our chances with weapons in hand," Frederick pointed out. He reached out and tugged me behind him. As he did, I noticed most of the Shepherds drawing their weapons, fury and murder in their eyes. "On the off-chance you win, it'll be a quicker death."

"So it would be," Mustafa murmured, bowing his head. "Very well. I will ensure your deaths are quick and dignified!"

It was hard to say who attacked first, us or them. It was even harder to really keep track of everyone as the fighting started. The mud churned under our feet, and the sounds of battle were nearly swallowed up by the splashing of puddles, the battering of the rain, the roaring of the wind, and the rumble of the thunder. Even through all that cacophony, though, I could still hear my comrades' angry words, intent on not only showing the enemy how stupid it had been to attack us, but telling them.

"Here's how it's done!" "Your end has come!"

The smell of this battle was different. That was the first thing I noticed. The mud and rain blocked off the normal scent of blood, sweat, and other things. It created this very odd daze, for lack of a better word, where I expected the smell of death, but only got the rain's smell. Not quite as crisp and clean as rain normally was, but nowhere near as bad as a battlefield should smell. It made it all seem distant, like this was some strange sort of dream, really.

"Shall I make you famous~?" "Bye now~" "Hot death coming through!" "I'll make this quick."

I was alone on the field for once, mostly because it was hard to keep track of everything and everyone through the sheets of rain. I did notice that the Plegian soldiers I cut down didn't properly fight back. Their movements were too slow and jerky, like they were wearing heavy weights. When I killed one, I actually took their sword, just to check if it was heavier than it should've been. If anything, it was lighter. It wasn't their weapons and armor that weighed them down.

"Rebarbative fool!" "They've gotta notice this!" "That's enough back talk!" "I'll kill you twice!"

The next one I fought… well, I didn't fight. I swung and missed on purpose, watching their expression. They looked both relieved and disappointed as I moved past, and clunkily swiped at me. I stepped into the blow, catching it across my neck. Their eyes widened in horror as a little bit of blood trickled down, and they stumbled back. I gave them a mournful look, and pointed off the field, silently telling them to just run. After a moment, they did, giving me an apologetic one in return.

"Do you like darkness?" "I smell your fear." "You're so dead!" "Like candy from a babe!"

I walked around one of Grima's vertebrae, stepping around other soldiers that only half-heartedly attacked me. They looked so tired and drained, and I pushed a few into the hole within the vertebrae, silently insisting that they simply hide. One of them stopped me and rubbed some vulnerary across the cut on my neck. I gave them a smile in return and continued on.

"Your last breath approaches." "I am your omega." "Now you've angered me!" "Begone!"

A wyvern crashed into me, knocking me clear off my feet and into the mud. But the wyvern was off me in an instance, and soon, someone, the rider, was helping me up. Their wide eyes screamed apologies, and it was clear that they were just trying to land, just trying to get away from this madness. I'd been an unintentional target. So, I smiled reassuringly, and made a point to pet the wyvern's head before pointing to a place where they could hide. They gave me a grateful smile as I walked away.

"Don't look down on me!" "I'm gonna crush you!" "Now to face maker!"

There was some sort of scream, and for a moment, I tried to figure out the source. But then I realized it wasn't one with a source. Not exactly. Instead, it was a wordless cry of grief from everyone on the field that the wind twisted into something loud and heartrending. I wondered why the Plegians were crying, but I came across the reason fairly quickly. Mustafa was dead. Worse, Mustafa was mangled. In their own rage and pain, whoever had fought Mustafa had simple torn him apart, to the point that he was barely recognizable.

When I looked around, I saw most of the corpses lying in the mud and puddles were in similar conditions. My friends ripped them all apart.

"Olivia!" Basilio's happy call drew my attention forward, and I saw Olivia, wearing a soaked cloak and carrying a lantern, standing in front of him. "Good, you're here," he said, resting a bloody hand on her head, on the cloak. She smiled, and didn't mind. "How did you hide?"

"The general here showed me a good hiding spot, and he made a point to not look down at the ravine," she explained. Her smile faltered before returning. I noticed our group gathering up and started doing a headcount for the Shepherds. "He knew I was waiting for you all. He helped me anyway."

"Huh. Maybe he wasn't mocking us with the surrender offer then. Oh well." Basilio shrugged. "We need to get everyone into carriages. How are we? Did you lose any along the way?"

I tried to pay attention, but the world faded away as I came up one short for the headcount. I counted again, and then again, and then a fourth time. But the number was always the same. We were one short. I grew colder and colder as I looked at all the faces, wondering just who was missing, and I felt like ice when I realized who it was: Chrom.

I turned away from the others and raced away, desperately hunting through the rain, trying to listen for any sort of fighting or whimpering or anything. I slipped and fell a few times, faceplanting into a horribly red puddle once or twice. But I eventually heard the sounds of fighting, and I threw all my strength and energy into my legs to try and make it there.

When I arrived, Chrom was actually on his knees, coughing and bleeding, in front of three Plegians with fury and pain twisting their faces. It was such a contrast to the ones I encountered, and I tried to figure out why. But then I realized it was probably in hatred for what our group did to theirs. A horrible cycle of pain begetting pain. A cycle Emmeryn encouraged everyone to break free off before throwing herself to her death.

The three made to attack, with Chrom snarling up at them. I used the last of my strength to throw myself in between, catching a bad hit to my side in the process. The pain nearly made me buckle, and I might have fallen anyway…

Except Chrom caught me with a shaking hand. The other loosely held Falchion. "Kes!" he yelled, clinging to me. "Kes, what the… what did you…?" He growled something, and his grip on Falchion tightened. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. "You three are-!"

"Chrom, enough," I hissed, leaning against him. He stilled behind me. "Enough. Enough fighting today." I looked up and smiled at the three soldiers, who now looked so, so confused. "Run, you three. Just run. We escaped. That's all. You fought bravely, and we escaped in the chaos that resulted from your general's death." I made sure to smile at them. It seemed to make them falter. "Go. Quickly. He wouldn't want you to die, right?" I thought of Emmeryn's words. "Free yourself and go."

My words managed to get through to them. They glanced at each other hesitantly and then, after a long moment, nodded and ran, making a point to drop their weapons in the process. They shouted at their fellows, urging them to fall back. They weren't just running; they were doing what they could to get us a breather to escape.

"You are the most…" Chrom growled. He sheathed Falchion and moved to my side, face a stony mask. "Why didn't you let me… oh, never mind." He scooped me up suddenly and carried me in a princess-carry. I winced at the movement and whimpered as fresh pain spiraled out from the injury. "Sorry!" He looked down at me almost frantically. I nearly cried just because he wasn't mad anymore, and that was such a relief. "Is this worse on your injury? Should I carry you on my back?"

"No, I don't want to move anymore," I whispered. I managed another smile for him and reached up to touch his cheek. The rain made the blood splatter run pink down his face, like a mockery of tears. "As for why? Because I know that even in your anger, you'd never want to do something that would make your father pleased and Emmeryn, sad." I curled against his chest, too tired to maintain the smile, and let my hand fall. "That's all. You hate your dad and love her. So, I made sure you simply did what she'd want you to do."

"...You got hurt…"

"Honestly, Chrom, watching you become someone you hate would hurt a thousand times more." I closed my eyes then, trying not to wince as I remembered that conversation with Emmeryn too. He simply shifted me carefully in his arms and carried me to the others.

There was a long series of yelps at some point, signaling that Chrom had made it to the others, and I was quickly taken from Chrom and set up somewhere else where someone fussed over me. I opened my eyes briefly to see it was Sumia, who might've been crying. It was hard to tell, thanks to the constant rain, but her eyes were red. She hugged and kissed the top of my head when she noticed my eyes were open, though, and stood to the side only to let Maribelle crouch near and heal me up.

"What about Chrom?" I asked, curious. There was a lot of movement around us, and I saw carriages were near. Some were already filled, even. "He was injured."

"Libra, the dear, is tending to him," Maribelle explained. Her expression was grim. "But we have more trouble. Cordelia…"

"Shepherds, listen to me!" Robin's voice cracked through the general murmuring. "Cordelia has reported that we have pursuers!" he explained. One eye was shut from a bleeding head wound, but his other one was glaring. "We need a small group to act as a distraction, to meet up later."

"I'll stay," I volunteered instantly. I used Maribelle's shoulder as a crutch to push myself up, and tried not to wince. My body was feeling the effects of this far too long day, but I knew I wasn't the only one injured and exhausted. "I know the area a bit, so-"

"No. Denied." Someone picked me up by the waist and all but threw me into one of the carriages. It took a couple of blinks to realize a) this was the same one Chrom was pushed into earlier and b) Frederick was the one who threw me. "No, let it just be these two in here," he told someone, not even looking at us. "It's one of the smaller ones, so it'll be good cover. Put Princess Lissa in a different one, just in case." The door slammed shut and then it took off with a little lurch, knocking me right into Chrom. Which was better than Chrom, since he cracked his head against the bench on the carriage.

"...Holy shit, that all really happened," I whispered, shifting a bit to stare at the door. The carriage rattled and the rain thudded onto the roof. It sounded too much like arrows for my liking. "What the hell, Frederick?" I looked back down at Chrom, who blinked slowly up at me. He looked as dazed as I felt. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. He frowned slightly. "Are you okay? Your injury?"

"All healed up. You?"

"Yeah, fine." He flinched as some water dripped from my hair and onto his face. "Just fine."

"Good…" It still took a second for me to realize why water would fall from my hair to my face. I was pinning him. Awkward at any other time, but right now, I was too drained to feel anything but worry. "Oh, shoot, let me get off." It took a bit of maneuvering to do that, though. Frederick had been right; this was a small carriage, so there wasn't a lot of space on the floor for me to push myself up. Once I did, though, Chrom sat up too, and stiffly lifted himself onto one of the seats. I sat across from him, and leaned against the window, watching the rain. "You should sleep."

"So should you."

"So I should." We fell into a strange sort of silence, somewhere between awkward and comfortable. I wasn't sure what to say or do, so I simply closed my eyes, and tried not to remember Phila's last moments, and Emmeryn's last words.

I passed out before long, though. I supposed I was more exhausted than I thought.

A loud noise startled me out of my slumber, and I tried to jump to my feet and draw my sword. I ended up clonking my head on the ceiling and cracking my elbow against the wall. I sat back down with a whimper, resting my head in my hands as I checked for blood, and sat back, remembering just where I was. In a carriage with Chrom. And it was still raining.

"I think we hit a hole in the road." Chrom's voice was dull and soft. When I lifted my head to look at him, he was just staring out the window. It didn't look like he'd slept at all. "Nothing more," he murmured. I made some noise in response and settled back in my seat, watching him. A silence fell, one that felt horrible awkward. It had been a long time, or so it seemed, since he and I had an awkward silence. "I thought it didn't rain in the desert."

"It's rare normally, but the Midmire is infamous for sudden rain storms," I replied. I glanced out the window and saw next to nothing thanks to the rain. Grey, dreary, dark. That's it. "Where are we?"

"Not sure. We stopped for a bit, and I thought they changed out the horses. No one came to get us, though."

"Oh." Awkward silence again. Even worse, he wouldn't look at me. I wasn't really… used to this anymore. Not from him. "Have you seen any of the others?"

"Nope."

"Ah." The carriage rattled, and I was desperate to try and break the silence. I half-felt like jumping out of the carriage would've hurt less. "Chrom?"

"Yes?"

"About… about Emm-"

"Don't." His voice cracked suddenly, and he coughed to try and clear it. "Please, don't… don't say her name…"

Fear and shock flooded me. It was the same words he'd said to Mustafa. I thought of how angry he'd been. I thought of how all the corpses had been ripped apart, basically. The rain thudded against the roof, sounding too much like the arrows that killed Phila. Phila, who went 'splat', just like Emmeryn, except Emmeryn chose…

It all spiraled through my head, and that damnable silence fell again. I… I…

"Do you not want me to because you don't want to think about it?" I asked softly. I felt small. I felt like I was a little kid again. "Or… is it…?" It didn't help that he still wouldn't look at me. "Do… do you hate me now?"

"Huh?!" He jerked up, and winced as he cracked his head against the wall. "I… what?" he asked. Everything from his expression to his voice showed his disbelief. "No, never. I could never hate you." He looked almost pained by the thought, and guilt shot through me. "Why… why even ask?"

"W-well, a couple of things." I glanced out the window, too scared to look at him. "You were pretty angry earlier at Mustafa and the other Plegians. You and the other Shepherds basically mutilated the bodies and all, which tends to indicate a lot of hatred. And… I'm… I'm Plegian."

"That…" His voice was soft. I was too scared to look at him. "Kes, that's not… I mean…"

"And I was slow." This wasn't the time. I knew this wasn't the time to say any of this. But I was too tired and scared to dam up these thoughts. "I was up there too, with… with her. Sort of." I was scared of losing his friendship. Scared of losing the home I had found here with the Shepherds. I was scared of everything. "I was apart and couldn't hear, but I could just tell. She refused to simply go with Phila until I was safe. I was too slow in escaping."

"Kes…"

"And you heard her." I wanted to stop talking but I couldn't. "It was my words she repeated. And I'm…" I hesitated, scared. But I couldn't stop. Now that I started, I couldn't stop. "I'm the one who told her… well, I guess a theory for the Emblem? I mean… I more told her what the Grimleal were planning, and the pieces went from there, but…"

"Kes."

"But still, that was me. My words. And I was slow." My voice cracked and my eyes burned. I tried to hide the latter by leaning more against the cool window. "And I'm… Plegian… by blood… so… I…"

Chrom seized me by the arms, and before I had time to even squeak, he pulled me towards him, holding me tightly against his chest. "No, that's not it at all. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I just…" He paused, and his hug on me tightened. "It hurts. It hurts so much. It was the former. I don't want to think about it. That's it. It just hurts so gods damned much..."

"...Of course it does." I hesitated again, before shifting so that I could wrap my arms around him too. It was a bit awkward, sitting in his lap and all, but as he trembled under my hands, I thought he needed the hug too. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Not yet, anyway. You're tired, and in pain. You should be allowed to scream. You should be allowed to be angry." Even if I did worry about the state of those corpses. But that was a conversation we should've had later, when he was calmer, when the wound had scabbed. "I'm sorry for being selfish."

"You're not being-"

"Yes, I am." I made my voice as firm as I could to head off any sort of argument. "I turned a discussion that should've been about you into being about me, just because I was scared." I lifted my head to look at him. He looked so worried that my heart ached. "Talk to me. Complain to me. Or simply cry, Chrom."

"But you-"

"Chrom, yes, I'm tired and I'm in pain. I adored her, and I feel like if I'd done something different, then maybe she'd still be alive." I brought my hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it automatically. "But, damn it, Chrom, you feel all those same things, right? But it's worse, because she's your sister. Gods, Robin losing his memory felt like a knife to the gut, but at least I still have him. He's different, and I'm still adapting, but he's still here." I tried to move to sit beside him, but he tightened his hold on me. "Chrom, seriously, let's focus on you." I moved my hand to his shoulder and tried to break out again. But, instead, his hold tightened even further. "Let's focus on you and not-"

His hand snaked up to cup the back on my head and push it towards his shoulder. I tried to struggle out, but his breath hitched and it wasn't long before I felt tears hit the top of my head. Slowly, I relaxed, realizing that this wasn't him trying to comfort me. This was him trying to get comfort from me. So, instead, I wrapped my arms around him again and curled into him as best as I could. The rain continued thudding on the roof, and the carriage rattled and jostled down the road, barely heard through the rain.

"She died for me," he whispered at last. His voice shook so badly that I could barely understand him. "I saw it. I saw it in her smile and in her eyes. She didn't want me to deal with that choice. She didn't want to risk Gangrel killing me after giving him the Emblem. She didn't want to give up what might one day save her people, both as an Exalt and as a sister who knew I'd never forgive myself. I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. She had to save me. Gods, why couldn't I ever do anything for her?"

I chose not to answer. It didn't matter, really, because right now, no matter what I said, no matter how much I insisted he had, he wouldn't hear it. He wouldn't believe it. So, instead, I held him tightly, and let him cry. I tried to shift so that he could cry on my shoulder instead of my head, but he refused to let me go, so I decided to just keep holding him like this. Clearly, it was more of what he needed, and I wanted to focus on what he needed, instead of my own fears and worries.

Chrom was in far more pain than I. Whatever comfort I could give, I wanted to.

Notes on Gaius:

Class - Thief; Reclass - Myrmidon, Fighter

A thief with a major sweet-tooth, with a heart of gold, though he admits to doing just about any job for the right price.

Fast and skilled, though not necessarily the strongest. He admits that he trained far more in stealth and speed, since strength isn't as important for a thief. Most super valuable things are light anyway.

He is normally calm and serious, though that breaks as soon as sweets are involved. He's also very wise, and makes a point to try and talk to everyone in the army. He also has nicknames for everyone.

Author's notes: I changed the chapter of this from the in-game 'Renewal' to 'Don't Say Her Name' since in game, this chapter also has an additional scene where everyone gets their second wind and their morale back (or, well, 'renewed'), but I am moving that scene to another chapter, so the title is no longer fitting. 'Don't Say Her Name' is the title of the song that plays throughout the whole battle in this chapter, marking one of the few times where there's a background music override in a Fire Emblem game, creating a very thematic chapter that is honestly one of my favorite FE chapters, period. (I think Awakening is the only game to have that in the series, and it does it twice: here and the final chapter. Could be wrong, though.)

Shadowgift appeared a couple of times last chapter, and in game, the skill is unique to Aversa, allowing her to use dark magic while not a dark mage/sorcerer. In story, however, I'm using it more as an innate 'genius', so to speak, for dark magic, since I'm not really limiting dark magic to classes so much as training (That is, dark mages and sorcerers are the only ones who can use dark magic because they're trained in it, NOT that they're the only ones capable of using it at all). Raven, Robin and Kestrel's mom, had it, which played a large part in why she was able to climb the ranks as a sage, but neither twin inherited it from her.

Mustafa noticing Olivia and letting her go comes from a side-story that was up on the Japanese official site, iirc. The idea of Chrom running off on his own, and getting surrounded, after killing Mustafa comes from a Chrobin comic done by Ticcytx (think they're on both tumblr and twitter under the same name, it's an adorable comic). As for all the crit quotes… fun fact! Every time I've played this chapter, despite not really using a lot of killer weapons for it, I've had every unit make at least one crit on the map. Every. Time. It's hilariously appropriate. (Lissa and Maribelle are not combat units at this point in the story, so they don't have their crit quotes; I added Flavia's and Basilio's to show that they are technically fighting too)

Next chapter - Interlude, Morale