Lucina walked in on Robin laying out and organizing his many maps and papers, equations and measurements scattered about to measure the logistical operations. Virion had gone to his own chambers not long before Lucina arrived, Robin still starting over a board of small white and black wooden figures, with many more black figures than white ones. Robin was so focused looking at the scene, he did not even notice Lucina entering.

"What is this?" she said.

Robin finally snapped awake, looking up at her. "Oh, this? It's merely a board game Virion and I came up with to practice my tactical prowess."

Lucina smiled. "Well, from the looks of things I'd say you showed him what you can do!"

Robin cringed somewhat hearing her remark. "You do know that I was playing as the white army, right?"

Lucina's smile fell. "Oh..."

"It's quite alright," Robin said. "I've grown quite used to getting my cloak handed to me when Virion and I play this game. Perhaps he should be the one planning our next campaign."

Lucina stepped closer. "He may have bested you on the board, but in the field, when lives are at stake with every move, you always know the right thing to do."

Robin sat in silence a moment. "Do I?" he said. "Do I really? Because I can think of a few mistakes..."

Lucina could see the hardened look in his eye. "If this is about what happened to Emmeryn, my father and I have told you many times that was not your fault."

Robin seemed to be unmoved, so Lucina moved in even closer. "What do I have to do to convince you of that?"

Robin looked up to her, a sad expression on his pale face. "I don't know. But...I wish I could see in my what you and your father see in me."

Lucina was not the best at these interactions, but she knew enough to know a man in need of a hug when she saw one. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and Robin stood up, leaning into the hug as he reciprocated with his arms around her waist. She leaned back, seeing his pained expression soften somewhat, as she stared deep into his brown eyes, which contrasted so nicely with his white hair.

"It's not your fault, Robin," she said. "You are the only reason the Shepherds have stayed alive at all. We are counting on you, Robin. You cannot lose heart now. Not when we are so close." Robin smiled faintly at that, still looking into her face for a moment of silent comfort.

That was, until, the sound of a throat clearing went through the room.

Both turned to the source, a bashful Owain standing by the door, cheeks flushed, hands twiddling with themselves. "Uh, Chrom asked me to find Robin and tell him that he wanted a private meeting after dinner tonight," he said, still not making eye contact. Robin and Lucina, still half-hugging, quickly separated, and Robin grabbed a handful of papers, a goofy smile appearing on his own flushed cheeks. "Y-yes, of course!" he said, "Tell him I will be there the moment dinner is over."

Owain nodded and went out the door, but Lucina could not help but notice the look he gave her, one of embarrassment, far greater than the one he gave Robin. Lucina remembered well the reason for this, and could not help but think that perhaps she should just get things out in the open now before it became a serious problem.

...

Owain made his way quickly down the colonnade toward the old chateau. He rubbed his face trying to get the blush out, or at the very least, spread it around so it was not so painfully obvious. He looked passed the columns to see the rest of the camp getting dinner preparations ready, campfires lit and tents established. He faintly smelled the aroma of a roasted bear, a meat that he had had far too much of in his life if he had anything to say about it.

"Owain!" he heard, and immediately recognized his female, blue-haired cousin as the source. He supposed this conversation was going to happen at some point, but he wished he at least had a day to rehearse some lines first.

Lucina quickly caught up and stood by his side for a brief moment, neither quite knowing how to begin even when the topic was obvious. Lucina decided to start. "I'm sorry, Owain," she said. "I did not intend to spy on you and Inigo, I...heard music in the hall and went to see who was causing it."

Owain shifted uncomfortably, his blush exaggerated by the face-rubbing he had done earlier. "How much of it did you see?"

Now it was Lucina's turn to shift. "I heard you play that fast song. 'The fountains mingle,' or something along those lines."

Owain smiled. "That song was called 'Love's Philosophy.' I wrote the lyrics myself," he said, a clear note of pride in his voice, "and Inigo wrote the music."

"It is a beautiful song," she replied, "and you were quite good at playing it. How long has it been since you practiced?"

"Not since we got here from the future," he said.

"Then it was especially good for so little practice," she said, "And Inigo was..." she could not think of an adjective positive enough to describe it.

"Amazing?" Owain provided.

"Yes, amazing! I never knew he could sing like that, or that he composed."

"Verily, my dear Lucina!," Owain said, the theatrics finally creeping back into his voice. "He has the most impressive vocals, and his compositions are masterful. What you heard is only a fraction of what he has composed!"

"Truly?" she said, "I had no idea he was so prolific."

"Of course! This is a man serious in his craft! Take a look at these!" Owain reached into his leather bag, and pulled out a stack of papers. He shuffled past the first few, revealing an index page entitled, "The Compositions of Inigo, House of Ylisse by Opus Number," and a list of Opus numbers with titles after them:

Op. 1. Two Songs

Op. 2. Three Lyrics of Prince Owain

Op. 3. Three Lyrics of Prince Inigo

Op. 4. Five Songs

Op. 5. Three Ylissean Dances

Op. 6. To Olivia

Op. 7. Eight Plegian Lyrics

Op. 8. Two September Songs

Op. 9. Music from 'Where the Rainbow Ends'

Op. 10. Two Sonnets on the War

Op. 11. Four Songs of Sorrow

Op. 12. Songs to the New World

Lucina looked at all of them. Truthfully, she had no idea what an Opus was, but if Op. 7 had eight songs in it, she could only imagine how many the others had. She remembered what Inigo had said earlier. "Inigo said something about a song called 'The Reign of the Stars,'" she said, "Do you know anything about it?"

Owain flipped through the papers, pulling out a small stack of maybe six pages. On it a title read, written in legible but somewhat childish handwriting: Two Songs, Op. 1. Two compositions by the Princes of Ylisse, Owain and Inigo.

"We were talking about music after our lesson one day, and decided to put together some songs!" Owain said. "The first one, 'Come Spring! Sweet Spring!' was my composition, both music and lyrics, while 'The Reign of the Stars' was his!"

"You each wrote one?" Lucina said, to which her cousin nodded. "Then, why did the index say 'compositions of Inigo?'"

"Ah that," he said, "It would appear that for all my proficiency at swordplay, piano, and poetry, I was not that good at composing songs myself. Inigo, however, could let the music flow from his pen, moving notes across the lined battlefield as masterfully as Robin moves the soldiers on his wargames." He turned to her. "In truth, I only composed the music for two songs: The one I just told you about, and the second 'Sonnet on the War,' Op. 10, No. 2."

Lucina watched his eyes sparkle in pride and power, mentally patting herself on the back for getting him started. He was now a running faucet of information, and Lucina decided to get as much as she could.

"While Inigo composed the music, I wrote the lyrics," Owain continued, "Some might argue that the poetry is just as important as the music in a song, and I wrote many lyrics for Inigo to set! The majority of them even! Though I must say, Inigo is quite the hidden talent! Not only are his compositions sublime, and his singing voice enthralling, but when he did feel the need to write his own poetry for the lyrics, I'm nearly ashamed to say they were as good as mine!"

Owain kept talking, and Lucina listened, taking it all in. Owain admitted that though he had cataloged all of Inigo's work thus far, he did not have all the manuscripts. He only had the ones whose poetry he had participated in, and the compositions Inigo had written himself, both instrumental and lyrical, were his alone. She gathered that Op. 3, Op. 5, Op. 7, Op. 9, and Op. 11 were not in Owain's possession, which gave Lucina serious doubts about just how much Owain was contributing to their joint operation. She kept such thoughts to herself as Owain continued, though when he seemed to be rambling about the power music and poetry had on the masses, and potentially using such masterful lyrics as a weapon of war, Lucina had to cut him off.

"Owain," she began, "If Inigo and you were so prolific, why didn't either of you tell me? Or anyone else for that matter?"

Owain looked somewhat sheepish. "Believe me," he said, "If I could have published our works for the world to see I would have, but Inigo...he's shy."

Lucina rolled her eyes. "I'm his sister, Owain. I know he's shy."

"I know, but it's like his dancing. He just keeps practicing until he thinks he's good enough which is never. He's expressed pride in a few pieces, but he thinks his singing is nothing more than mediocre, so he never sings them except to me."

"But, but that's stupid! He's a great singer! Possibly the best I have ever heard!" Granted there was not much competition, but still.

"I know that, and you know that. Unfortunately, he does not know that, and his feelings of mediocrity keep getting in the way!"

Lucina felt something new in her stomach at that. A feeling of anger and frustration, similar to all the times she had caught Inigo flirting with girls who were clearly not interested. "Owain," she said, "We need to go speak with Inigo."

"What?! Oh no, no, no!" he exclaimed, "If you confront him you might set him off!"

"Owain, think about it. The singing, the composing, the dancing, the poetry. Inigo has nothing he's willing to show the world."

"But, Lucina-"

"Don't you see? I've lived with him his whole life and I never knew what he could do! Do you know how angry that makes me? That he had these talents all this time and never showed me or even told me about them because he was afraid of being labeled 'mediocre?'"

Owain shifted as Lucina drew closer. "Inigo was the same way with sword fighting. My father and I had to give him a push to get out there and do it, even when he thought he wasn't good enough. I'm not going to sit by while he wastes his gifts doing nothing out of fear."

Owain considered her words, and while not fully convinced this was the smartest plan in the world, followed her again in the colonnade, where then went toward the east wing to find Inigo.