Dinner at the Shepherds' camp was usually quite a jovial affair. A reprieve from fighting, marching, and strategizing, where all were welcome to take a seat around fire pits and partake in whatever food was available. Onions, bread, rice, with occasional rations of fruits and other vegetables to stave off malnutrition. For some, it was a peasant meal that was bearable, as the alternative was starvation. For others, it was a feast larger than they had ever experienced at home. Like most things in life, it depended on perspective, but all agreed that dinner was a pleasant time.
Despite this, Lucina could not feel the pleasantness that everyone else seemed to radiate at the smell of toasted bread and bubbling soup. Her eyes were cast down at her untouched plate, stealing occasional glances at her parents, who seemed far cheerier than usual, and her brother, who sat further down the outdoor table telling some elaborate joke to Owain and Gerome. Lucina could not hear its contents, but seeing the smile that he bore while he told it sent mixed signals to her heart.
Inigo's smile was a precious thing. During their time in the future, he and Owain were the only ones to try to keep everyone upbeat. Certainly, Lucina and her plan to contact Naga provided motivation, hope, courage; but Inigo's jokes and laughter, and Owain's adorably pitiful attempts at valor kept their spirits up, and reminded all that there was something to love and to care for in a bleak world of pestilence. Though Lucina often butted heads with Inigo about her dour and serious attitude, which he insisted was not good for her or their comrades, she never once tried to stop his smiling. Seeing the hopeful gleam in his branded eye gave her something powerful within, a fire that warmed her when her world was covered by gray rains and snow.
Seeing him now, however, in the aftermath of his speech to Owain (or indeed, any of the recent events since that day in the study), the fire within Lucina seemed like a stray spark with no tinder to catch. Here was this man (no, not a man, a fourteen year old boy), trying to smile and joke and keep everyone else's spirits up when so much turmoil raged within him. Guilt over an event in which he had no control. Guilt over the feelings of a sister that was supposed to be his protector. Guilt that anyone would spare him a thought when more pressing matters were at hand. As she looked upon that smile as he finished the story to thunderous laughter from Owain (and a quiet chuckle from Gerome), Lucina had to wonder how genuine it could be.
Had it ever been genuine? Now that was a scary thought. Lucina had credited Inigo's upbeat demeanor to his personality and youth, thinking that he merely lacked the exposure or the comprehension to see the directness of the situation. In more spiteful moments (which always brought Lucina shame), she often thought that, with enough time, Inigo would eventually come to see the world as she did.
But, if it had not been genuine, then had it all been an act? The boy watched his own mother die as he cowered and ran away in fear, then spent every moment of the next two and a-half years training, fighting, and marching through a barren waste littered with monsters and the corpses of friends and neighbors. What person could possibly come through that with a smile?
As these thoughts came to Lucina, she could feel a terrible chill in the core of her being. He was suffering, as much as anyone who clawed their way out of what could only be described as an earthly hell. Yet, he kept it all inside and put on a fake smile. 'For me,' Lucina thought, with a mixture of love and disgust. Chrom, Olivia, Inigo...everyone could tell her how great she was; how much they owed her for their own continued existence. Her parents could tell her for a hundred years how proud they were. Even Lucina's more pragmatic half knew logically that there was only so much a single person could do. Still, her other half ignored the logic and pleasing words, and focused on the boy who, in the course of a few days, had become an enigma to her.
"Are you alright, Lucina?" Olivia asked, "you have barely touched your food."
Lucina looked up at her mother, and noticed both parents looking at her with a bit of concern. She shook her head slightly to get out of her train of thought. "I was just thinking about something," she said.
"You were staring at your brother," Chrom said, "have you talked with him yet?"
Lucina clenched her fists under the table. "No," she said, "he was speaking with Owain earlier, and I did not want to interrupt."
Both parents seemed to accept that as an answer, and Lucina took a thankful bite of her bread. Dinner continued as usual from that point forward, and though Lucina started slowly, she finished her meal faster than most without any idle chatter. Getting up from the table, she said goodbye to her parents for the time being, slipping away towards the armory to fiddle with weapon maintenance. If any activity could help clear her mind, it would be this one.
...
She entered the tent where weapons were stored, cringing slightly when she remembered her conversation with Severa there in what now seemed like a lifetime ago. She approached a rack of spears, wondering which deserved her attention most. Right as she was about to draw one with a slight chip in the left bevel, she heard the flap of the tent flutter open. Turning slightly, she caught the gaze of a dark blue eye with matching bangs, and froze in her tracks.
Inigo let the flap close behind him, but said nothing as he stood there, his hands clasped, his foot dragging in the dirt awkwardly. Lucina turned to face him, but found she could do no more. A very quiet minute passed as Inigo cleared his throat and said, almost inaudibly, "I saw that you looked a bit upset during dinner. I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Y-yes," Lucina said quietly.
Inigo scratched the back of his head, a habit they both picked up from their father, and took a step forward. "L-look," he said, "I'm sorry about what happened earlier."
"You're...apologizing?" Lucina said, "but, I was the one who overreacted."
"Well," Inigo continued, "you're not wrong, but I do bear some responsibility for this. Given everything that happened recently, I can see you were under a lot of stress." He took a step closer. "If I had been more upfront about my feelings toward Severa, you may not have jumped to conclusions."
"You have no reason to apologize," Lucina said, "It was my mistake, and I will accept the consequences for it."
A moment of silence passed, neither sibling having much to say, until Inigo broke the silence again. "Have you spoken to Severa since then?"
"I have," Lucina said, "I think we have made amends."
Inigo let out an audible sigh of relief. "I was hoping so," he said, "you know how she is. Quick to anger, but never holds a grudge. Pretty much the opposite of Owain in that regard." Inigo put his hand to his chin in thought. "Actually, now that I think about it, Owain and her are pretty much completely opposite. I'm not sure how they put up with each other."
Lucina smiled slightly at that. "If you were to ask Lissa, she would say that opposites attract."
Inigo let out a small chuckle. "Owain and Severa? There's a match made in Heaven! Though, I doubt Owain would oppose."
Lucina tilted her head slightly in confusion, a dog-like habit she had that always made Inigo smile. "What's with that look?" Inigo said, grinning.
"You said...Owain would not oppose?" Lucina said cautiously.
Inigo gave a shrug and a wave of his hand. "Ah, don't worry about it," he said, "speaking of Owain, I was talking with him earlier..."
Lucina's eyes widened, but Inigo seemed not to notice. "And afterward I was thinking. I had thought you knew about my singing and composing, but you did not, and you seemed pretty upset about that." Inigo shifted awkwardly. "So, since I don't know how much longer we'll be here, I could show you some of my work while we still have piano access...If, that's something you would want..."
Lucina's lips curved upward. "I would like nothing more. We can go right now if you want."
"R-right now," Inigo said, "we'll I still need to ask Owain if he'll play out the notes for me, and-"
Suddenly, the tent flap opened with a flourish, and Owain stood in its opening, hand outstretched with a gleaming smile on his face. "Speak no more, cousin!" he announced, "I have heard your call for my talented hands, ready to produce the notes of grandeur that turn the hearts of the masses!"
Both blue-haired siblings stood silently for a moment, before Inigo spoke with a slight growl in his voice. "Owain, were you listening that whole time?"
Owain's heroic demeanor faltered as he put his hands closer to his chest. "W-well," he said, "given what we discussed, uh, earlier, I thought it would be best to...to, you know...make sure you..." his eyes shifted over to Lucina in a gesture that Owain probably thought was subtle.
Inigo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just go wait in the study," he said simply.
Owain bowed in an overblown gesture, and quickly exited the tent, Inigo sighing as he followed his lead. "Is there nowhere in this complex I can have private conversation?" he asked rhetorically, and Lucina, not having an answer to that she was willing to admit, followed him quietly out.
...
Inigo and Lucina climbed the steps of the chateau towards the study, Inigo giving the list of caveats he always gave before any kind of performance. Though he kept his dancing private after their parents' death, she had seen many before, and Inigo always prefaced them with a long list of why the dance would not be ideal. Now, he was giving a similar speech about how he was out of practice, how his voice was always a bit scratchy after eating toast as he did tonight, about how he had not rehearsed in a long time, et cetera.
Lucina simply nodded along, understanding that even as talented as he was, and even before an audience of family only, the stage-fright he inherited from Olivia would persist. The fact that he was willing to approach her to show her his singing was so dear to her, that she did not dare say anything that might alter his resolve. Though she desperately wanted to discuss his conversation with Owain earlier, to dissect his every point, to prove to him how much he meant to her and others, she kept quiet for the time being. Such a talk could come later; why have an argument now?
As they opened the door to the study, they found Owain already at the piano's keys, his fingers striking out a basic scale in preparation. The siblings entered, and Inigo was careful to close the door behind him. "So," Owain said, "which of our masterful compositions will grace dear Lucina's ears today?"
Inigo reached into his satchel and rummaged around a few papers while Owain and Lucina looked on expectantly. "I have a few with me on hand," he began, "some lyrics I wrote, some Owain wrote, a few Plegian poems I put music to..." he trailed off as he continued rummaging.
"I am sure any of them would be fine," Lucina said.
"Maybe we should start where we started," Owain said. Both looked at him confused, so he continued. "I mean our very first opus. Where all this began."
Inigo winced a bit. He had never truly cared for his first bit of music as a piece of art. It held great sentimental value for sure, and he never once regretted writing it, but to perform it now that Lucina had heard better work seemed wrong. "Maybe something else instead," Inigo said.
Lucina hated seeing Inigo act so indecisive, so she gave a suggestion of her own. "Perhaps you could finish those songs I overheard earlier?"
Inigo's face seemed to drop a bit. "A-are you sure?" he said, "they are not very happy or cheerful."
Lucina's head cocked to the side in confusion.
"I too would like to hear more of those," Owain said, "That first piece about spring coming back was quite good, and I do not remember hearing the rest."
Lucina finally realized they were talking about the song he sang to Severa; the ones he expressly would not sing as it was "too personal." As Lucina turned back towards Inigo to correct the mistake, Inigo was already looking at the faded pages with the top part curled around his fingers so that Lucina could see, albeit upside down. Though the notation was still foreign to her, the title was quite clear: Four Songs of Sorrow.
"Alright," Inigo said, cutting off Lucina's unspoken sentence. "But...these are very personal. Lyrics I wrote in a very sad time...when we were still over there..." his head ducked down.
"I-its alright," Lucina said, "we do no have to play something if its going to make you sad."
"I might be good for you though," Owain said, "clearly those feelings are still impacting you. It might do you well to get them out."
Inigo still looked unsure at Owain's logic, and Lucina was not confident it would be the best move. Nevertheless, Inigo, after another glance at the papers, walked over to Owain and handed him the papers, where Owain looked them over briefly and placed them on the piano.
Lucina took a seat in a chair up against the opposite wall, and Inigo took several deep breaths in and out as Owain started up the first notes. The first song, "Spring Sorrow," played out much like she remembered from when she overheard, and though it was no "Love's Philosophy" in lyrics or musical power, it was a fine song in its own right, made richer by Inigo's voice. For the melancholy of its tone, the lyrics and melody were rising toward the end, giving the sorrowful song a hint of hope.
When the next song, "Autumn Evening" came up, however, Lucina could tell from its very first notes that it was going to be a sad one. Owain's fingers played softly an almost ethereal melody that seemed to linger in the air with every note as Inigo began:
"The yellow poplar leaves have strown
Your quiet mound; you slumber
Where winter's winds will be unknown;
So deep your rest,
So deep your rest."
Lucina's heart began to sink as the words' meaning came through.
"Sleep on my love, your dreams are sweet...
If you have dreams; the flowers I brought,
I lay aside for passing for passing feet,
Though I need not,
Though I need, I need not!"
A grave of a beloved, whose mourner doubted her afterlife; who brings flowers and moves them aside for visitors that never come. The image nearly drove Lucina to tears, the melancholy melody seeping into her very being.
"The graves are gathered on the hills,
The light has died; the songbird's gone.
The breath of early evening chills-"
Inigo's own eyes closed as a tear began to form, his voice wavering as it built up to a conclusion. Lucina leaned forward, her own eyes finally watering as Inigo put out the last lines:
"Mother, mother, sleep on;
Mother, mother, sleep on."
The notes seemed to fade into nothingness, their last echos lingering in the room. It was a beautiful song, a gorgeous melody carrying unrefined lyrics of a child's grief over his dead mother. Their dead mother.
Lucina immediately rose and hugged Inigo tightly, who was perfectly willing to return it. Both stood in silent embrace for a moment as Lucina let the vision of Inigo, still so young, leaving flowers at their mother's grave overwhelm her. He went by her graveside to practice his dancing all the time in the previous world. Lucina was only able to watch it once, too heart-wrenched by Inigo's sincerity in talking to the slab of stone that represented their mother about his improvement.
Owain did not join the hug, but his eyes were watering at the music he empathized with. A part of him noted solemnly that all his flowery poetry, clinging to the old rules of "thee" and "thou," had not yet captured a feeling as raw as Inigo's song. He dared not continue playing, lest he disturb the moment, and merely stared through his own tears at the siblings.
Lucina pulled away slightly, viewing Inigo's face that looked back at her with quivering lips. The stood in a silent moment. "So," Owain said, "how do you feel?"
Inigo looked at him, then back to Lucina, letting a shaky laugh come through a slight grin. "I haven't sang that song since we left," he said, "I...I'm not sure how I feel."
"Perhaps we should stop then," Lucina said. Inigo looked to Owain, who gave no indication of what he should do. Inigo glanced back at the piano, then turned to Lucina again. "We can if you want to...but, I would rather keep going."
Lucina and Owain both looked surprised. "You never know when we'll get another chance, right?" he said, "It's not as if there are pianos everywhere we camp."
Lucina and Owain shared another glance before Lucina nodded and sat back down, Owain flipping to the next page. Owain began the next song, and Inigo breathed deeply as he began to sing once again:
"What land of silence, where pale stars shine
On rotten forests and crumpled vines
Is yours and mine?
The silent valley that we will find,
Where all the voices of humankind
Are left behind.
There all forgetting, forgotten quite,
Memories hold the only delight
Hid out of sight.
The world forsaken and out of mind,
Honor and labor we shall not find;
The stars unkind.
Brave men shall travail, and softly weep,
As our hopeful prayers reach gods asleep,
As risen creep.
A land of silence, where pale stars shone
Now cloaked in gray with us alone;
Our only home."