Fire Emblem Awakening: Lights Within Darkness

by Van24

Semi-AU: Robin woke with nothing but his name and the coat on his back, unaware of the destiny that awaited him. Two mysterious warriors crossed the bounds of time, fighting to avert a dark future even as they struggled to fight against their nightmares turned reality. Now, with the world edging ever closer to the brink of calamity, can they save not just the world, but each other?

11. Chapter Nine - Foreseer of Fate

Author's Note: I'll keep this short and sweet. Between my laptop breaking down and trying to scrape together the funds to get a replacement... plus rewriting a lot of the lost progress... and in addition my job-hunting and language classes in between... well, let's just say that a lot's happened over the past two months, and it's not helped the update schedule any.

I apologize profusely for anyone who might have been disappointed by the long break since the last chapter. This was originally going to detail the entirety of the game's Chapter 6, but as I had a lot of additional content, I have decided to split it into two parts.

As per usual, any discussions, thoughts, feedback, questions, and the like can be sent through reviews. Rest assured I will reply soonest (and I'd like to think I'm pretty quick at that!)

I'd like to think this chapter came out well, and I hope you also would think it was at least interesting enough to warrant you clicking that review button and letting me know what you think. Cheers, and Naga be with you all!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening or any characters, concepts, weapons, etc. that are found therein. Anything within this fic but not from the source material are my own creations.

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Chapter Nine – Foreseer of Fate

Location: Ylisstol

Robin let out a small, tired sigh as he leaned on a rail, absently watching the people of Themis on the main street below as they filed in through the city gates of Ylisstol.

The march back from Themis had been uneventful, but the three days of travel time had still been a busy affair for the tactician. While he'd had to ensure that he had troops scouting the way forwards and backwards at all times, Robin had in fact spent much of his time going over preliminary plans that he would likely be expected to present at the war council that was undoubtedly going to be called upon their – or, more specifically, the Exalt's – return to Ylisstol.

What little time he had that could be devoted to other pursuits was spent studying the basics of swordplay with Frederick, particularly picking up where they'd left off from before they'd arrived at Themis.

'Form I, sometimes referred to as Constantia, the first form of classical swordplay…' Robin recited mentally, imagining Frederick's voice blending together with his own. 'Known in some circles as 'The Determination Form', Form I is the most basic of all seven forms, and was the style that was created when traditional sword-fighting started to become more institutionalized over a thousand years ago. It retained many elements of the traditional forms of fighting while going on to establish basic concepts such as motions and target zones. Said concepts would go on to become the foundation for every other form, making Form I ideally suited to be an introductory training form for all practitioners of swordplay regardless of the form they would go on to specialize in.'

Robin chuckled, amused at how he managed to sound almost exactly like Frederick when the stern knight had been explaining everything to him.

'When in use as an actual style of swordplay, Form I was generally described as wild, simplistic, and raw, relying on deliberate tactics and continuous step-by-step advances that cut off angles of movement before disarming opponents. However, the style fostered an emotionally-heated mindset which resulted in practitioners being tempted to execute their motions with the intent to kill, and thus meant that a great deal of restraint was also required to utilize the form to its fullest extent. Ironically, while the form's philosophy could lead undisciplined practitioners towards delivering killing blows, its motions were aimed towards disarming foes without injuring them. Basic initiates and less adept practitioners in the style tended to demonstrate rather clumsy performance, though a master of the style was also said to demonstrate bladework that was like 'water flowing over the falls' – fluid, highly randomized, and unpredictable.'

Once Robin managed a firm grasp and understanding of the concepts behind Form I, Frederick had then gone on to have them apply theory to practice in sparring matches – sparring matches that the big knight had assured were completely harmless and devoid of any ulterior motives. Whether that was true or not was an entirely different story, and, after actually running through the gauntlet with Frederick, the tactician was firmly of the belief that the bigger man's assurances couldn't be any further from the truth.

Given that Frederick had spared no quarter in their bouts, Robin was quite sure that the phrases the Shepherds' lieutenant used – 'completely harmless' and 'devoid of ulterior motives' – were among the last ones he himself would ever think to use to describe their sparring matches.

'Suffice to say I don't remember ever hearing a more blatant lie…' Robin thought, hand going up to rub at a slightly sore bruise that he'd incurred when Frederick's training sword had slipped past his sloppy guard and landed a particularly heavy hit on his shoulder. Granted, the brutality of Frederick's lessons was probably going to pay off dividends in the long run as the battlefield during war would be just as brutal if not more so than any of their sparring matches, but the aches and pains he was still feeling all over – and was certain he'd be feeling for a fair bit longer – were reason enough for him to be more than a little disgruntled by the knight's teaching methods.

Of course, while becoming a better fighter was a welcome result of his training with Frederick, Robin was rather disappointed that their activities were doing little to help him recover any of his locked memories. His mind brought up memories of the same lessons being taught to him by a different person – if the voice speaking the words was any indication – and of him performing the same movements which he found his body recognized as familiar even when his mind didn't. A few hazy images accompanied them, but, as with the images he'd seen that night when he attempted to open the sealed portion of his tome, details were unclear enough that he couldn't quite make out any details to go off of.

It was frustrating, but Robin couldn't say he was surprised. It really was rather optimistic to even imagine that he'd recover some of his memories in so convenient a manner, but it wasn't wrong to hope, was it? At the very least, he could say that it wasn't a complete exercise in futility…

'If I can improve my skills, then maybe… maybe I can actually be worthy of all the trust being given by…'

"Robin!"

The sound of someone calling out his name drew Robin from his musings. The tactician turned in the voice's direction, quickly noticing Chrom making his way towards him.

"Ah, Chrom," Robin greeted amicably as the other man walked up. "Good morning."

The prince gave him a nod and a small smile. "Ah, good morning to you, as well," he replied. "I hope Frederick hasn't been too rough on you over the past couple of days."

Robin shrugged easily, almost immediately regretting doing so as a fresh ache pulsed through his shoulders.

"I don't think he knows the meaning of the phrase 'Take it easy', Chrom," he remarked lightly. "I can't say it hasn't produced some results, though, so it's not such a bad thing."

Chrom brightened. "Wait, really?! So you remember–"

"No, I don't remember," Robin quickly replied, watching with some amusement as Chrom quickly found his hopes shot down.

"O-oh…"

Robin gave the prince a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," he replied. "I didn't have any genuine expectations of actually recovering a memory from something like this. It was worth a shot, though, and even without it I'm at least becoming a better fighter."

Chrom sighed. "Yes, but I was hoping you'd have at least found something that you can follow back to your origins, by now…"

The tactician chuckled. "I'm fine with not knowing right now, Chrom," he said. "There are more important things to worry about at the moment."

'Besides… I'm not quite sure I want to know, really,' Robin thought to himself. 'I have a feeling I'm not going to like the answer if and when I find out.'

His thoughts wandered towards the the strong feelings of familiarity and déjà vu he'd experienced while at the border, particularly when he and the Plegian mage Aversa had locked eyes.

'Could I possibly be…?'

Robin shook his head. 'No, let's not think about that…'

"Robin? Hello, Ylisse to Robin?"

He turned at the call, finding Chrom looking at him with a half-curious, half-worried expression on his face.

"Hey, is something wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his features. "You've been spacing out a lot, recently…"

The tactician shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong," he said, trying to put a smile on his face so he could quell Chrom's worries. "I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Ah… that's understandable, I suppose…" the prince said. "You can count on us, you know? Don't think you have to take on everything on your own."

Robin snorted unceremoniously. "Are you seriously offering to help me study and do more paperwork?"

Chrom chuckled in return. "… No, I guess not," he admitted. "Sorry."

Robin shook his head. "Yeah, see? The thought was appreciated, though."

The pair quieted after that, both content to watch as citizens of Themis continued to make their way towards the residential district that would house them.

"… He played you, you know? Gangrel, I mean…" Robin suddenly murmured out of the blue, watching out of the corner of his eye as Chrom's head snapped up to look right at him.

Robin tried not to grimace. 'He needs to hear this, he needs to hear this…' the tactician repeated mentally, steeling himself for Chrom's most likely reactions. It wasn't quite the best way to break the rather comfortable silence that had settled between them, but he felt these were things that the prince needed to hear.

"The Mad King might be deserving of his moniker, but he certainly isn't stupid," Robin continued, trying to ignore the look of shocked betrayal on the prince's face. "He knew exactly what he was doing when he brought us all there and backed us into a corner using Maribelle's life as leverage. That he managed to force us to draw first blood was all according to the script he wanted us to play by… and now he can make it appear as if we'd been the ones to open hostilities."

Chrom took a step back. "But… But the Plegians were the ones who attacked first! You saw it yourself! Even the Plegians soldiers would know that we merely retaliated in self-defense!"

Robin snorted mirthlessly. "Ah… but who says that's going to be the story that will be told back in Plegia?" he asked rhetorically. "Imagine the reaction of the Plegian populace, Chrom, when they hear that the son of the hated warmongering Ylissean Exalt – the son of the very same Exalt who waged a bloody crusade across their country fifteen years prior – struck down a Plegian soldier at the negotiations without any prior provocation?"

"But we only fought to protect Emmeryn from them!" Chrom all but roared, the commotion actually attracting the attention of some people – both civilians and soldiers – who were in the pair's vicinity.

Robin glanced meaningfully at the soldiers who'd taken notice before returning his gaze back to Chrom, hoping the prince would understand the gesture.

Thankfully, Chrom understood Robin's gesture and glanced at the soldiers himself, giving them a discreet shake of the head. Understanding that the situation did not necessitate any sort of alarm or intervention on their part, the soldiers turned and ushered the civilians away, leaving the two alone.

"It doesn't matter what actually happened, Chrom," Robin said once he was sure no one was within earshot. "What matters to the Plegians – to Gangrel – is what they could make it look like had happened. Besides, the Mad King said it himself, didn't he? His people will not care who started this war. All they will care about is that they can finally take their anger out on the hated Ylisseans… and yours will be the face that the Plegians will direct the vast majority of their hatred towards."

Chrom took a step back, stunned. "I…" he said, holding onto the railings to steady himself. "Gods, you're right, I really did play right into his hands… let myself fall into his provocations…"

He leaned heavily against the railing. "I've completely messed everything up, haven't I?"

"Not everything," Robin replied. "The deck was so heavily stacked against us that Gangrel was going to get his war, regardless of what happened. If it wasn't you who killed that man, it would probably have been Duke Themis who might have done so, especially given Maribelle's situation at the time. The only thing that was really achieved by you being the one to do the deed was that you gave the Plegians their most desirable outcome due to your lineage."

Chrom sighed. "That's not going to make me feel much better, Robin."

The tactician shrugged rather easily, all things considered. "I'm sorry if I made you feel worse, but you hired me to be a tactician, not a sweet-talker," he replied. "This is the reality of war. Not everyone is going to fight as honorably as you do, Chrom. Deceit, duplicity, and propaganda are just as much weapons of war as Falchion ever was, is, and will be."

"I know, Robin…" the prince said, sighing again. "I know… I just…"

Robin gave Chrom a smile.

"Don't worry, nothing's over and done just yet," the tactician said. "You made a mistake, true, but that doesn't mean you should get hung up over it. You just have to learn from it and move on forward."

Chrom sighed. "If only it were so easy… learning that you've just become the target of an entire nation's hatred isn't an easy thing to accept."

Robin chuckled mirthlessly. "Nothing ever is, Chrom. Nothing ever is."

'Especially when we have to fight our own selves on top of the opponent in front of us…'

The prince sighed. "If only I'd killed Gangrel right there…" he murmured. "Maybe we could have ended the war before it even began…"

Robin snorted. "That's not going to work out the way you might want it to, Chrom."

Chrom looked back at his tactician. "What makes you say that?"

Said tactician again offered an easy shrug. "Just think about the sentiment currently prevalent in Plegia and the events that led us to the current situation," he replied. "The death of one Plegian soldier was enough for Gangrel to spin a tale of unprovoked Ylissean aggression that incites a call to arms amongst the populace." He raised a hand as Chrom made to say something. "Before you say anything, yes, I know we actually defeated several platoons and a flight of wyvern riders, but the death of that man you killed was still the catalyst for everything else that's happened afterwards."

Chrom's mouth clicked shut, the man wearing a rather disgruntled expression even as he motioned for Robin to continue.

"Now, imagine if we actually managed to kill Gangrel," Robin continued. "We'll have just killed the king of Plegia. He might not be universally loved by his people, but he did restore some semblance of order to the nation in the aftermath of the Plegian Crusades. I've read enough of the archived reports on how things have progressed in Plegia over the last fifteen years, and I can tell you that the people most certainly won't forget how Gangrel gave them all their lives back in a similar way to what Emmeryn did for Ylisse. Mad King or not, the people will feel as if they owe him a debt of gratitude they're obliged to repay after what he's done for them."

The tactician smiled tightly. "Kill him, and you've just given whoever will rise up to take his place and fill the power vacuum an even better martyr than the nameless, faceless soldier you struck down. Killing him won't stop all of Plegia from rallying behind his cause; in fact, it might just make things worse. Remember, a person being held up as a symbol of an ideal will always be more powerful in death than in life."

Chrom sighed again. "So, if killing Gangrel isn't an option, how do we go about ending this war?"

Robin's smile found itself tainted with a slight feeling of helplessness.

"I have a couple of ideas, none of which are really acceptable outcomes," he replied.

Chrom glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "In other words…"

"In other words… I really wish I knew," Robin admitted with a rueful chuckle. "To be fair, we do have more immediate problems to deal with."

Chrom sighed again. "And I really wish you weren't so right about that."

Robin shrugged. "It's not so bad. Maybe the war councils might point me – us – in the right direction."

'Well, I can only hope they do…'

Somehow, he couldn't help but feel like he'd just jinxed himself by saying that.

---

Several days later, Robin could only say that the one thing he'd managed out of the daily war councils has been an ever-growing feeling of frustration.

'Why, oh why, did I ever think that the war councils were going to be productive….?'

The war councils – if they could even really be called that – had been a shambles from the very beginning. The various nobles and advisers who were in attendance had spent more time squabbling amongst themselves or directing barely veiled insults and accusations against him than they had actually trying to come up with a coherent plan of action to respond to the Plegian threat. The plans Robin had presented at the meetings – 'Or tried to, at least,' he grumbled mentally – were met with very stiff resistance from the majority of the council, with almost no arguments as to why aside from their suspicions that he was a Plegian spy or sleeper agent.

Robin grimaced at the thought of how he'd been treated by Emmeryn's advisers. He thought he'd done his best to show that he supported the Ylissean cause, and Chrom had vouched for him and defended him at every opportunity; given the attitude of the Ylissean advisers, though, he was quite sure that when it came to him they couldn't care less about any details beyond his supposed Plegian nationality. Even the support of a member of the royal family – especially the brash and hot-headed prince – had not done much to sway them in that regard.

He was equally certain he'd done well to not let slip how their words were affecting him, but just the same he doubted that many of the Ylissean advisers really cared about the well-being of things and people they felt were below them or were serving as obstacles to their ambitions and self-interests. However, by midday of only the third day, the lack of progress and the ever-growing virulence of the words being sent his way eventually reached a point that spurred Emmeryn into action. Deciding that she'd seen and heard enough, Emmeryn had taken full control of proceedings, stunning her advisers into silence as she expressed her disapproval of their appalling behavior.

While Robin had expected it to stop there, the Exalt had followed her statement of disapproval with an ultimatum for the other council members to at least give actual, logical arguments as to why they refused to go along with the amnesiac tactician's proposed plans, and that she would expect for them to also be able of presenting their own alternatives afterwards.

Had he not actually been reeling from everything that had been thrown his way, Robin might have actually cheered at how easily Emmeryn had cowed her advisers into submission before bringing an end to proceedings for that particular day. However, the fact that the Exalt had been forced to do what she had done was already a bad sign. As things stood, they'd already been stuck in this political and military quagmire for longer than they should have, and the tactician was beginning to grow restless thanks to the inability of the Ylissean war council to actually agree on anything.

'Things are already hard enough just having enemies across the border; don't these people recognize the urgency of the situation facing us to actually put aside their own interests?'

Robin let out a rather despondent sigh at that, wondering what he could do to show he could be trusted to support their cause with all his heart, mind, and skill. So distracted was he by his musings that he hadn't even realized that someone had walked up to his table until a voice cut through the din of his jumbled thoughts processes.

"That was quite the sigh, Tactician Robin."

Robin jolted in surprise, nearly causing a bottle of ink to spill out its contents all over the open books and parchments littering his table. He quickly looked up from the mess that was occupying his table to see Exalt Emmeryn smiling kindly at him, a hand resting on the chair next to his own.

"I apologize for intruding upon your work," she said, eyes glimmering with kind sympathy. "Might I have a few minutes of your time?"

"Oh, Your Grace… o-of course, it's not a bother," Robin quickly replied, glancing at all the maps and open books both tactical and arcane spread out across his table. "Um… Forgive the mess, I…"

Emmeryn smiled as she took a seat next to him. "Worry not about it, my friend," she assured him, watching with a combination of amusement and worry as he tried to bring some form of order to the clutter. "I know this is only because we have to rely so heavily on your expertise to get us through these trying times."

The Exalt sighed, prompting Robin to glance at her out of the corner of his eye as he continued to move parchments and stacks of books.

"If only I could find some way to help you or lighten your load somewhat…"

Robin shrugged lightly. "If I might be so bold, Your Grace…" he started, waiting until he was sure he had Emmeryn's attention before continuing his line of thought. "I doubt any of your military or political advisers would even give me so much as a second glance, let alone actual assistance."

The tactician suddenly lunged to the side, just about stopping a stack of books he'd been moving from toppling over.

"I wouldn't call their attitude a reflection of your leadership, certainly, as you've proven to be anything but racist and bigoted…" he remarked rather easily, setting the stack right before retaking his seat. "… but it is rather worrying that your advisers' treatment of me is largely due to them coming to the conclusion that my amnesia is a fabricated lie to hide my supposed identity as a Plegian sleeper agent or assassin."

He chuckled lightly. "It's even more worrying – and amusing – when you consider that they all believe that narrative mainly because of the obvious Plegian markings on my coat," he said, raising his arms up to show the Exalt the three eyes decorating either sleeve. "Even if I was a Plegian in my past life, I can definitely assure you I'm not a sleeper agent for some fairly obvious reasons."

Emmeryn raised a delicate eyebrow. "Is that so? Please, explain your logic to me."

Robin shrugged easily as he settled back into his chair. "It's fairly simple, Your Grace," he replied. "If Plegia really has planted me here as an assassin or a sleeper agent… would they have made it so obvious?"

He tugged on his sleeves with an easy smile. "Granted, the enemy likely thinks you naïve, Your Grace – and, believe me, if even your own brother can think that of you, it's not a far stretch to imagine your enemies would, too. However, even then, I'm sure any commander worth his rank wouldn't be so blatant. I've already mentioned this to Chrom, but I think it's something that begs repeating: Gangrel isn't stupid. He might be completely insane, yes, but he definitely isn't stupid. That he cornered us at the border is proof of both his competence and lack of sanity."

Emmeryn let out a soft giggle, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth.

"Yes, I suppose my fixation on preserving the peace for the people might lead some to think that of me, wouldn't it?" she remarked rather lightly, genuine mirth twinkling in her grey-green eyes. "I don't particularly mind, though; being seen as naïve does have its advantages."

Robin frowned in thought. 'She… finds other people's perception of her funny…?'

"How so, Your Grace?"

Emmeryn smiled knowingly. "It is fairly simple, Tactician Robin," she answered, Robin almost hearing the laughter in her voice as she mimicked his earlier response. "I know how everyone perceives me, and I know what sort of behavior and reaction they expect to see from me. Playing to that narrative can make everyone around me more predictable and much easier to deal with. I'm sure you understand where I am coming from, yes?"

Robin had been about to agree easily enough, even preparing to cite a passage about deception from a famed tactician of eras past. Before he could open his mouth, however, the full weight of Emmeryn's words registered in his mind and stopped him dead in his tracks.

'Wait, hold on… 'Predictable? Easier to deal with?'

Wide-eyed, he looked at Emmeryn, who calmly returned his gaze with kind eyes and a knowing smile.

'So, all this time, the Exalt's been…'

Robin mentally cursed his own foolishness. He'd done it again – he'd grossly underestimated another person's depth of character, and merely taken what he knew of the Exalt as the whole story. That was as grave a sin as anyone in his profession could ever hope to do, especially when lives hung in the balance with every decision that he had to make.

"Your Grace…" he ventured, speaking slowly as he tried to bring order to his suddenly disorganized thoughts. "Are you trying to say… that you've actually just been following a script, in a sense…?"

Emmeryn laughed – actually laughed – at the tactician's question.

"Yes and no," she replied easily, mirth dancing in her eyes. "One does not rule Ylisse for fifteen years without learning how to deal with foes and supposed allies, my friend. Someday, you too will also come to realize that it is sometimes easier to act as you need to if you normally play to an idea that those who would seek to obstruct your path would have in their mind – in my case, that my pacifist tendencies also mean I am possessed of a naiveté that has not gone even after a decade and a half of rule."

She gave him a meaningful, knowing glance. "However, you should not mistake my intentions as false just because I have not been… completely forthcoming with you, Tactician Robin. It was – and still is – certainly no lie when I said that my people's safety and happiness will always come first. They are my treasures, more valuable to me than any amount of wealth or prestige that the throne may offer."

Robin nearly choked. That wasn't–!

"No, that's…" he stammered. "I didn't mean…"

Emmeryn smiled softly. "You say that you didn't mean to imply that, but I saw the flash of doubt in your eyes," she commented. "You're suddenly wary, and your eyes are now reassessing me in light of what I've just told you."

Robin's hands clenched into fists as he looked away, shame twisting his features. "Your Grace, I…"

"Do not be ashamed; I hold nothing against you for having such a natural reaction," Emmeryn assured the tactician, her voice soft and gentle. "I actually would have been more surprised – and a tad bit worried – if you simply accepted what I've told you without question. Of course, I also realize that this may not have been the best time for this particular revelation given the situation currently facing us… It may prove to be a distraction you definitely do not need at this critical juncture."

Robin looked up curiously. "And yet you decided to push through, anyway," he remarked. "Why tell me this now, then, if you felt that it might prove a distraction? I assure you it won't, but my curiosity is piqued, nonetheless."

Emmeryn smiled lightly. "Because, Tactician Robin, I need you to know that I truly do believe in you without reservation," she replied. "I said as much back in Themis, did I not? You've proven to me time and time again that you are worthy of my total confidence, as much as you try to convince us – or yourself – otherwise."

Robin's jaw dropped. 'Excuse me?!'

"Your Grace, surely there are a million other candidates who are more deserving of it than I am," he protested immediately. "Never mind the rather… unique approach you chose to take, but still…!"

Emmeryn chuckled. "You see? You're doing it again," she said, prompting Robin's mouth to snap shut rather abruptly. "I do not claim to know why it is that you feel you cannot receive any sort of trust; however, your lack of confidence in yourself and in your own abilities is completely inconsistent with how you act in your capacity as tactician of the Shepherds."

She smiled gently. "Things are not as complicated or unbelievable as you might think, my friend… All you should do is give us a chance – give yourself a chance."

Robin looked away. "You say that, but… I'm nowhere near as composed as I seem to be, Your Grace," he said ruefully. "It's just that everyone in the Shepherds looks to me for leadership and guidance when on the battlefield, so I have to hide my own doubts and misgivings while on the field. Otherwise… everyone's morale will suffer, my orders could be questioned, and the hesitation could lead to an otherwise avoidable tragedy."

He clenched a fist. "… I can't let that happen. I don't think I could live with myself if I did."

Emmeryn shook her head. "You are not the only one who has to carry such a burden."

The tactician's eyes snapped back to the Exalt, who now carried a sad smile on her features.

"From the moment I took on the mantle I wear to this day, I ceased to simply be the ten-year-old crown princess," she explained as she looked away. "I couldn't afford to be seen as weak or inexperienced… not in those difficult times when so many of my people were desperate and hungry. They were looking to me for guidance and hope for a better tomorrow, neither of which my late father could not give them even when they needed it most."

Emmeryn's sad eyes stared emptily into space, and to Robin it appeared as if every painful memory from those years of pain and hardship was flashing before the Exalt's eyes. The tactician frowned at the desolate expression currently etched onto the Exalt's fair features, and he realized then that the burden she carried was one that he could not even begin to understand or comprehend.

Robin felt a sudden pang of sympathy beat painfully in his heart for the Exalt.

'She's had to face too much… far too much…'

The tactician heard Emmeryn sigh, and he pushed his thoughts aside to focus on her words.

"As unbelievable as it may sound…" she continued. "There were – and there still are – many moments when I felt as if the weight of my people's hopes and expectations were too much of a burden to carry." Robin felt another pang as he watched the Exalt's normally-gentle smile morph with bitterness. "I question myself just as much as you do now, and it is in those moments of weakness and self-doubt when the constant temptation to turn to my siblings for help speaks strongest in my mind."

Robin frowned in confusion. "But… why haven't you done that, though? Ask your siblings for help, I mean," he asked. "Surely Chrom and Lissa would do all that they could to help you if you so much as asked…"

Emmeryn sighed again. "Doing that would defeat the purpose of all that I do," she replied simply.

"The… purpose…?" Robin parroted, definitely quite confused by Emmeryn's thought processes.

"Ah… forgive me," Emmeryn said, a hint of embarrassment present in her expression as she colored ever so slightly. "I just had to remind myself that I'm not actually talking to Phila. I… don't usually speak so freely with anyone else aside from her."

'Clearly you don't, or I might have heard about all the things you've told me about before now…' Robin thought, still trying to come to grips with this side of Emmeryn that she'd deigned to show him.

Emmeryn cleared her throat. "M-moving on…" she said, trying not to stumble over her words as she reigned in her embarrassment. "As much as people try to place me on a pedestal, you must remember that I am still human like everyone else."

"I would think that I'd actually be very hard-pressed to find evidence that you aren't human, Your Grace," Robin quipped dryly. "And if I did, I would think it would actually be some sort of state secret that would see me sworn to secrecy or sent straight off to the gallows."

The Exalt smiled at Robin's wit. "Perhaps, but I fear many do not quite see things the same way you do," she replied. "That includes people not realizing that I have my own personal motivations for what I do."

Robin nodded. "Yes, you mentioned as such earlier. I'm not going to lie, I'm still very curious what you meant by having your own motivations and purposes for what you do."

Emmeryn's lips curved up in a smile that reached her grey-green eyes. "Do not let your imagination run wild, my friend," she said. "It is not something quite so out of the ordinary or out of line with the rest of my way of thinking."

"Pardon me for saying this, Your Grace, but your selflessness, pacifistic tendencies, and unwavering desire for peace are already just a tiny bit out of the ordinary in this day and age, anyways."

The Exalt raised a dainty hand to her mouth, stifling the growing urge to laugh at the snow-haired tactician's amusingly blunt remark.

"That sounds rather like something Chrom would say, Tactician Robin," she remarked, eyes twinkling with mirth. "He has never been quite one to mince words or hold himself back should he feel the need to speak his mind. Perhaps his habits and tendencies have begun to influence you?"

Robin smiled wryly. "You'll forgive me if I feel like I'm not sure whether that's supposed to be a good thing or not."

Emmeryn laughed softly. "At the very least, I am glad he was able to break free of the mold I was raised to conform to," she said, shoulders still shaking with amusement long after her laughter had subsided. "After all, the very core of my motivations for everything I have done and continue to do as Exalt is a desire for Chrom and Lissa to never have to be burdened with matters pertaining to the crown."

Robin found himself none too surprised by the Exalt's rather selfless motivations. In fact, he was more surprised that he even so much as considered the thought that she was capable of any other kind of personal motivation other than one that would benefit those she cared for on a personal level.

'Heh… even in her supposed selfishness Exalt Emmeryn still manages to be utterly selfless,' he thought, giving a minute shake of the head as he acknowledged his own foolishness. 'Could I really have expected anything else from someone like her?'

"Hmm?" Emmeryn hummed. "Is something the matter, Tactician Robin?"

The tactician chuckled. "Nothing of your own doing, Your Grace," he replied. "I was just acknowledging that you were right when you said it wasn't quite out of the ordinary… and that I was quite the fool for even considering anything other than something that would be for those you loved as a motivation for why you do what you do."

Emmeryn smiled. "Well… that certainly isn't to say that my love for my people isn't genuine," she replied. "However, it has become a very personal mission of mine to do all I can to ensure Chrom and Lissa do not have to be shackled by titles or any number of responsibilities that came with simply being born into our bloodline. If I could do that… then it would make all the hardships I have had to endure worth the struggle… but, I…"

She trailed off, leaving whatever it was she'd been about to say unsaid. Robin at first thought the Exalt had simply paused to gather her thoughts, but the sight of her trembling lower lip and shaking hands quickly made him realize that she was worse off than he – and likely anyone else bar maybe Phila – had possibly imagined.

Robin clenched a fist. 'Gods, I can't let you of all people punish yourself like this… not you, Emmeryn…'

He swallowed. "Your Grace…" he ventured slowly, hoping against hope that he could slowly edge the conversation – and the Exalt's thoughts – away from treacherous territory.

Emmeryn raised her head to look at him with eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her gaze was filled with unstated emotions, but the curiosity still present in them gave Robin hope that he could steer her thoughts back in a different direction.

"You… realized at some point that you couldn't carry it all on your own… didn't you…?" Robin supplied softly. "That the burden of being Exalt was too heavy for you to handle on your own…"

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes…" she agreed, her voice just as soft as his own. "I, in all of my foolish youth, thought that I could lead Ylisse and at the same time keep my siblings from having to get their hands and feet dirtied by the political arena that I knew I would have to master sooner rather than later… by the political arena that was to become my own personal battleground…"

Robin gave the Exalt what he hoped was a look of kind sympathy. "And, it was that same realization that made you fear you wouldn't be able to keep Chrom and Lissa away from the life that you were so desperately trying to shield them from in the first place."

Another soft nod came from Emmeryn. "I was blinded by my idealism, unable to truly see or comprehend the harsh realities that awaited me once I took up the mantle," she said, her lips twisting in a sad smile shot through with bitterness and self-loathing. "The aftermath of my father's crusades showed me that ideals alone would not save my people from their grief or suffering, Tactician Robin."

"But you did save them, didn't you…?" Robin asked. "Everyone tells me-"

Emmeryn shook her head. "What other people tell you is only that which they themselves want to see and believe," she replied sharply, cutting the tactician off.

Robin frowned heavily. "What… they want to see and believe…?" he parroted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Exalt chuckled hollowly. "You shouldn't sound so surprised, my friend," she continued. "King Gangrel was right, to an extent, when he described Ylisse – my Ylisse – as a haven of hypocrisy. I, even with all the good intentions in the world, could not end my people's suffering on my own. As much as Chrom and many of my people will tell you otherwise, I am certainly no miracle worker who single-handedly brought peace back to the Halidom and its people. I needed the help of so many others simply to mend the wounds of our battered nation."

Robin's eyes suddenly widened in realization as he began to notice parallels between the situation facing Emmeryn then and the situation facing them now.

'Just as she needs the help of so many others to protect her nation from outside threats… but, that means she's…'

He shook his thoughts aside, focusing on the Exalt as she continued to speak.

"Sadly, it appears that the sacrifices of all those others who were there to stand with me went forgotten…" Emmeryn murmured. "They only remembered the young girl who rose to the throne after her father's demise and bravely faced her angry and disillusioned people. The belief that it was by my hands that peace returned to the Halidom, I fear, has left me more alienated from my people than ever before." She smiled bitterly. "The wise man who once said 'It is lonely at the top' was certainly not incorrect in saying that."

Robin's mind was racing as he took in all of the Exalt's words, the pieces surrounding her constant shows of faith finally falling into place and making everything about her rather puzzling behavior begin to make a great deal more sense.

It wasn't so much that she was naively placing her faith and trust in him, a tactician of unknown origins and questionable circumstances. While she was indeed choosing to trust him, that she was doing so blindly and out of nothing but the goodness of her heart couldn't have been further from the truth.

No, that wasn't the case at all. The decision to trust him was definitely a conscious decision that the Exalt had made only after much consideration on her part.

Emmeryn had chosen to ignore whatever stories, conspiracy theories, and labels that were being attributed to Robin by those around her, and decided that she'd see his actions and hear his words with her own eyes and ears before deciding for herself if he was the potential threat others were saying he was… or a potential ally that could be trusted and counted on in the days and weeks to come.

'And, if everything she's said and done up till now are any indication…'

Robin closed his eyes and smiled bitterly. 'Even with my lack of a past, she still…'

He chuckled. Maybe everything really was simpler than he was making it out to be, just as she'd said just moments before.

"… You aren't alone, Your Grace," Robin murmured. "Even one of your position will not be alone…"

He opened his hazel eyes and fixed a resolute gaze at the Exalt. "Not if I can help it."

Emmeryn's eyes widened. "Tactician Robin…!"

Robin swallowed against the rising lump in his throat as looked his liege in the eye.

"I… after hearing everything you've said, I now know that I want to help you," the tactician said, straightening. "Your dream, Exalt… I want to help you realize it."

Emmeryn's mouth fell open ever so slightly, her still-glistening eyes betraying her surprise.

"Tactician Robin…"

The tactician looked away. "I think…" he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "I think I understand what you mean when you say no one can do it alone… I'm sure it applies to me, as well, even if the scopes of our responsibilities couldn't ever hope to be compared."

Emmeryn shook her head sadly. "You say you understand, and yet you continue to keep us all at arm's length."

"I know, but…" he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared, Your Grace… scared of what I might find or become should I ever regain my memories. I'm scared of what might happen to you all should I discover I'm something or someone who can't stand alongside you all as a friend and ally…"

Robin nearly jolted as he felt a pair of hands softly encircle his own and gently bring it down from his head, making him turn back to face Emmeryn.

His eyes met the Exalt's, her grey-green eyes overflowing with kindness. "Fear of the unknown is a natural thing, Robin," she said, her voice soothing his frayed nerves and frantic mind. "It is fine to be afraid, but you should not let your fears of who you once were or what you might be rule you and influence everything you do."

Robin blinked, his mouth falling open in awe at her words. "Exalt…" he whispered.

Emmeryn shook her head. "You are you," she said, fixing him with a gentle smile. "There may come a time when you find out that you were someone else before you lost your memories… but that will be a consideration for then, not now. You should not let yourself be shackled by the chains of possibility – of a terrible past that may or may not even exist. Allow yourself to live in the present, and walk with those around you – walk with me – to build a future you can be proud of."

Robin nodded, allowing himself to consider her words for a brief moment.

'She's right… as always, really,' he thought, chuckling softly to himself. 'I guess the real fool here was me, after all…'

"Thank you, Your Grace…" he said quietly. "I know it won't even come close to repaying the debts I owe you… but I promise you: I won't let you down."

For the sake of the people who in their unending kindness took him in when he had nothing, doing all that he could to protect their precious home and their people was the least he could do.

Emmeryn smiled, and to Robin it almost looked as if she knew exactly what was going through his mind at that very moment.

"I know you won't, my friend," she said simply.

---

Robin sighed as he wandered through the halls of the Exalt's Palace, searching for a place where he could sit down, relax – or try to, anyway – take everything in and sort through his thoughts.

Thankfully, the conversation with Emmeryn had drifted off towards much more comfortable topics after their rather heavy emotional exchange, with the Exalt posting a few questions about their possible courses of action going forward. Granted, Robin had been contemplating about where they could go from here ever since they'd left Themis, but coming up with a solution to the problem at hand hadn't been the easiest thing in the world.

He'd been very much ashamed to admit as much, but the Exalt had been quick and firm in her assurance that this was exactly the kind of situation where coming up with a viable solution would require everyone working together rather than one person trying to solve the problem on his or her own.

Emmeryn had gone on to gently scold Robin for feeling as if he had to solve everything on his own, reminding him that trying to do too much too quickly would only lead him to the sort of helplessness she herself had felt when she'd first taken the Ylissean throne.

"Sometimes it is better simply to focus on what is in front of us," she had said. "Start small, with what we can do, then work our way upwards to the larger problems together."

'In my case, I guess that means I just have to keep doing what I'm doing as the Shepherds' tactician, and hope that my tactics are enough to get us all through this predicament until someone can figure out a long-term solution…'

Robin sighed as his thoughts wandered once again to that question he'd been trying to answer for days on end: How do they go about ending this war without an enormous loss of human life…?

The tactician was stopped from considering that question too extensively, however, by the sounds of rapid footsteps and someone calling out his name.

"Robin! Robin, wait up!"

The tactician stopped and turned just in time to see one Princess Lissa running up to him as fast as she possibly could.

"Lissa…?" he murmured as the blonde princess came to a halt and bent over just a few paces from him, placing her hands on her knees as she greedily sucked in as much air as she could to get her breathing under control.

Robin looked back behind the princess, confirming what he thought: there weren't any side exits from where he stood near one end of the hallway all the way to the other end where Lissa had come from.

'Did she really run from all the way over there? Good grief.'

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "So, what's wrong? Did something happen?" he asked, genuinely curious as to what was so urgent she would even run from one end of the hallway to the other just to catch up to him.

Lissa straightened and shook her head. "No, but… well, have you seen my brother?"

Robin frowned. "Chrom? No, actually. I haven't seen him since the war council was adjourned hours ago."

'Why would you be looking for him, though? Does that mean he hasn't retired to their chambers yet?'

The princess sighed. "Ugh, I knew it…" she mumbled. "Knowing him, he's probably spent the hours since with Frederick and Duke Themis trying to work something out to aid the war effort."

Robin snickered. "I wouldn't be surprised by that. He always seems to try too hard at everything he does."

Lissa giggled. "Well, that's Chrom for you," she agreed. "Always rushing into things full speed, even if he really shouldn't be doing so."

Robin this time erupted into laughter. "I guess it's a good thing he hired me, then!"

Lissa's laughter joined his own, the sounds of their mirth bringing some semblance of cheer to the empty hallway. It was a rather good thing that there was no one else around, or they might have been wondering what their princess and tactician were doing making such a commotion all on their own.

"So…" Robin ventured once their mirth had died down. "Why are you looking for Chrom, if you don't mind my asking?"

Lissa's features took on a thoughtful expression as she considered the question for a brief moment before lighting up in apparent recollection.

"Oh! I was actually going to give something to him, but…" she said as she reached into the bag slung across her body, rummaging about for something.

After a few moments of searching, the princess' hand withdrew from the bag with a small pouch, which she held out to Robin.

"If it isn't too much to ask, could you give this to Chrom if you find him?" she asked. "I'd look for him myself, but I still have some things to take care of at the healer's wing."

Robin took the pouch and held it up before his face, tilting his head curiously as he gave it a shake or two to try and discern its contents.

"I don't really mind. I was going out to look for him anyways," he murmured, giving the pouch another shake. "…What's in this thing, anyway?"

Lissa gave a small smile. "Just a little treat from me," she quipped, her expression quickly dropping afterwards. "… He's probably been working too hard, and I bet he's even been skipping meals…"

"And so you wanted to give him a little something to pick his spirits up, right?" Robin asked.

Lissa nodded, prompting a smile from Robin.

"Hah… that's quite thoughtful of you," he remarked as he placed the pouch in a pocket within his coat. "Adorably so, in fact."

The blonde princess flushed an embarrassed pink. "H-hey, it's all I can do for him right now," she stammered out. "Don't make fun of a little sister who just wants to make sure her big brother isn't starving himself out. That's an order from the Princess of Ylisse, Mister!"

"Yes, yes, I understand," Robin replied. "I'll be sure these get to him…"

He grinned. "… Princess."

Lissa made an utterly adorable sound of protest at the title, eliciting light-hearted laughter from the snow-haired tactician.

"Sorry, sorry. It was too easy," Robin said, trying and failing miserably to stop a grin from forming on his lips. "Just consider it payback for dropping that frog down my coat the other day!"

He turned and, with a wave, took off at a slow job. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to give Chrom your little present!" he called back. "Later… Princess!"

Lissa's cry of mock indignation had Robin laughing all the way down the hallway as he took off in search of the Prince of Ylisse.

Several minutes later, Robin was beginning to wonder just where in the name of Naga Chrom might have gone to.

'Lissa probably hasn't seen him since breakfast this morning based on how her words sounded,' Robin thought to himself. 'So I doubt he's been anywhere near the healer's wing. He wasn't in the garrison wing or the Shepherds' garrison, nor was he in the armory…'

The tactician frowned, examining what few possibilities remained where he imagined the Prince might be. 'He isn't the academic type, so the library's most certainly out of the question,' he surmised as he descended a flight of stairs and made his way towards the castle gardens. 'Could he have gone back to the war room, though…? Hmm… that might be the place to check if he's not in the gardens or at the training grounds.'

"Damn it, Chrom, where are you…?" Robin murmured as he turned a corner and exited out onto the open air hallways that ran along the castle's sprawling outer garden complex. Unlike during the day, both the hallways and gardens were devoid of activity, the servants and gardeners all having retired to their quarters for the night and leaving the tactician with no one he could really ask about the prince's whereabouts.

'Running into someone helpful would be more than welcome right about now…'

As luck would have it, Robin chanced upon a pair of palace guards on patrol, who quickly pointed him in the direction of the eastern gardens near the royal apartment wing. Thanking them for their help, the tactician hurried past them and headed towards the wing of the palace where the members of the royal family took up residence.

Thankfully, Robin had no need to even try to request entry from the guards who he assumed would be present; the prince stood alone in the gardens that surrounded the apartment complex, staring up into the sky with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Chrom…?" he called out hesitantly, just in case the prince reacted negatively to having his thoughts interrupted.

The blue-haired man gave no sign he'd heard Robin in spite of the tactician's rather close proximity, simply sighing to himself as his eyes continued to gaze into the far-off, distant lights that dotted the night sky.

Robin frowned. 'What is up with you? You've been having these moments ever since that border battle.'

"Chrom?" he tried calling out again, his voice much louder this time.

The prince started, turning to face the source of the call with a rather dazed expression on his features.

"Mm?" he mumbled. "Oh, hi, Robin."

Robin's frown deepened as he approached the blue-haired man. "Hey, don't 'Hi, Robin' me like nothing's wrong," he said. "It's late. What are you doing out here all alone?"

Chrom sighed again, this one even deeper than the last. "Just… dueling with some unpleasant thoughts, really."

Robin nodded, remembering Emmeryn's words from their conversation earlier. "King Gangrel was right, to an extent, when he described Ylisse as a haven of hypocrisy."

'It… sounds like that encounter with Gangrel really got to him…' he thought.

"Well, here," the tactician said, retrieving Lissa's small pouch from his coat before gently tossing it at the prince. "Lissa asked me to give it to you; something about a reward for working yourself to the bone and not really getting any thanks or recognition for it."

Chrom, surprised expression and all, caught the pouch and gazed at it curiously for a moment before opening it up.

"Oh…"

Robin raised an eyebrow as he walked up to the prince and peered into the pouch, eager to see just what Lissa had used him as a deliveryman for.

"… Candies?" he asked rather incredulously, leaning back to give Chrom some space as the other man retrieved a piece and held it up in front of his face.

Chrom chuckled. "Lissa doesn't look it, but she's pretty good in the kitchen," he said before popping the piece into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Robin crossed his arms. "You'll forgive me if I'm rather dubious, given her general attitude towards anything that can be used to describe her as feminine or delicate."

Swallowing the treat, the prince held the pouch out. "Feel free to try one out," he said. "I can guarantee you won't be disappointed."

"I'll pass, thanks."

Chrom shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just means more for me, then."

A comfortable silence descended on the pair, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the sound of Chrom's sedate chewing.

Robin took the opportunity to take discreet glances at Chrom when he was sure the prince was distracted by his thoughts or the sugary treats Lissa had gifted him.

The other man did not look well; dark rings had formed under his tired blue eyes, and the man's skin had grown just that little bit pallid and sallow, as if he was seeing less sunlight than was healthy.

Robin frowned. "Hey, have you been sleeping well, if at all?"

Chrom shrugged. "I've slept when able," he replied noncommittally.

'In other words, not at all.'

"Well… make sure to rest when you can," Robin advised. "It wouldn't do anyone any good if you collapse from exhaustion one day, especially if we're out on the field."

Chrom grunted in reply, and to Robin that was as much a reply as it was a dismissal of the topic.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, the tactician chose to hold his tongue rather than risk stressing Chrom further with repeated queries as to his well-being. Another silence descended on the pair, this one just a tad bit uncomfortable as it was unbroken by any other sounds; even the wind had suddenly grown still as if sensing the awkward tension between the two men.

However, before Robin could figure out a way to open a conversation with Chrom, the prince chose to break the silence himself.

"… You know… not everything Gangrel said was a lie."

Robin glanced at Chrom, tilting his head in question even though he had an inkling that most of what the prince was about to say was going to be similar to what he'd heard from Emmeryn earlier today.

"He may be mad, as you've said, but he's certainly no historical revisionist," the prince explained. "The previous Exalt, my father, waged war on Plegia for many years, as you've no doubt heard many times already. The violence it brought about…"

Chrom looked away, grimacing, and Robin wondered if he wasn't seeing memories from a time he'd rather forget. It almost made the tactician glad that he had no memories aside from those he'd made since being found in that field.

The prince swallowed audibly before turning his gaze skyward once more. "Well, let's just say it was a brutal campaign, one that only came to a close with his death fifteen years ago."

Understanding dawned on the tactician. "The war only ended because its main proponent was no longer alive to keep it going…"

Chrom nodded. "That's right. The Plegian people rightfully remember the suffering they had to endure because of my father, but what he failed to realize was that his crusade was no kinder to his own people." He shook his head, almost as if he were trying to shake away images that only he could see. "As the war dragged on and the fighting intensified, the only thing Father really had to show for it was a rising body count on both sides. Our army became more and more diminished by the day, and at some point it became apparent that Ylisse didn't have the soldiers needed to sustain the campaign."

Chrom paused, and Robin could visibly see the prince struggling with his words. It took the other man several moments before he could so much as look the tactician in the eye, a haunted expression on his features.

"… That was the point when he began conscripting the common folk…" Chrom whispered. "Farmhands who could barely wield their pitchforks out in the fields were being sent off to die in a war they had no real stake in. Without young, able-bodied men to work in the fields, Ylisse no longer had the means to continue producing enough food to feed its populace. Before anyone knew it, famine struck Ylisse, and that led to a near-total collapse of the Halidom. There was widespread hunger… the people were desperate, angry…"

His hand tightened into a shaky fist. "I was still far too young to remember most of what went on during those dark days… but I can remember as clearly as if it was just yesterday how it all affected Emmeryn."

Robin frowned. 'Is this what Emmeryn meant when she said that she tried her best to shield Chrom and Lissa…?'

"The emotional burden resulting from such an experience would undoubtedly change anyone, especially a child who still had so much growing up to do," he said. "Even if the Exalt was mature beyond what her ten years would have suggested, she was still only a ten-year-old girl. Being forced to grow up so quickly so she could cope with such a difficult situation will not have left many positive effects on her."

'And to think I only have hints of how badly affected she was by everything…' Robin surmised internally as his thoughts traveled back to the conversation he shared with Emmeryn earlier today. 'The weight of just the Shepherds' lives and the troops under their jurisdiction already feels like such a heavy burden… I can only imagine how much worse off the Exalt was… and is…'

Chrom nodded. "Indeed," he agreed, unaware of the thoughts running through his tactician's mind. "When our father died in the middle of one of his campaigns, some few months before Emm's tenth birthday, he left her with quite the legacy: a broken Ylisse… a Plegia hungry with a desire for vengeance… the rage of our own people who suffered for so long while the previous Exalt bled them dry for his war…"

The prince shook his head sadly. "I still remember to this day how she bore so much hate; she was such an easy target just because she was our father's daughter…" he lamented. "Ylisseans and Plegians alike needed someone to become the focus of all their anger and grief… and Emm was it… Her own subjects hurled insults her way, laid all the sins of our father square at her feet…"

Chrom turned to face Robin. "Some even threw stones at her when she went out to see them, Robin!" he all but shouted, his expression suddenly furious. "She still bears the scars!"

Robin took a step back in shock. 'She… she was… stoned…?' he thought, eyes wide. 'Oh, gods… Emmeryn, you…'

Seeing the shocked look on Robin's features seemed to snap Chrom out of his rage, as the prince's manic burst of rage-filled energy left him just as quickly as he'd allowed his temper to get the better of him.

"… It wasn't fair, Robin… she hid her pain from everyone…" the prince whispered. "She never let anyone see her true feelings; only Lissa and I understood her suffering…"

Robin averted his gaze, Chrom's words bringing to the fore the memory of Emmeryn's words from earlier today. "The belief that it was by my hands that peace returned to the Halidom, I fear, has left me more alienated from my people than ever before. The wise man who once said 'It is lonely at the top' was certainly not incorrect in saying that."

'… Did you really, Chrom…?' he thought sadly. 'Did you really understand her, though…?'

Chrom sighed, signaling a temporary end to Robin's thoughts as the tactician turned his attention back to the prince.

"I cannot claim to know how Emm does it, Robin," Chrom said. "I could never greet such hostility with warmth and patience like she does. When our people mocked and vilified her, she chose to reach out to them. She repaid insults and mockery with love and kindness. She ended hostilities… she ended the mad war that our father started… she brought home the surviving soldiers and reunited families…"

Chrom's fists tightened once again. "And… when Ylisse's spirit was mended and the people 'forgave' her?" he asked rhetorically. "...She never resented them for it, even when she had every right to bear ill thoughts or feelings over how she was treated."

The prince looked at Robin. "Emm represents the best of the Halidom – the part most worth protecting," he declared confidently. "She is peace – she is as close to a human personification of it that I can think of… And yet some men would choose to try and take advantage of her unending kindness – men like King Gangrel."

He shook his head fiercely. "The day a man like him understands the idea of peace will be the day death gives it to him," Chrom ground out. "Perhaps this is the sort of situation where I must be death's agent… Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to… and so perhaps it is simply better if I bear that particular burden."

"Very well said, Sire."

The voice instantly had Chrom on edge, the prince's hand going for the sheathed sword at his hip as his eyes surveyed the surrounding area.

Robin, however, was less agitated, having recognized the voice instantly.

'Lucina…?'

"Who goes there?" the prince called out. "Show yourself!"

A pause, before the voice – and it was definitely Lucina's voice, just in that deeper false tone she affected when in her 'Marth' guise – spoke again.

"Peace, Sire," Lucina said as she emerged from behind the bushes, wearing her mask as Robin had expected her to. "I bear no ill will."

Chrom visibly relaxed. "You… Marth…?"

The masked swordswoman nodded as she stepped into full view beneath the light of the moon.

"Good evening to you," she greeted, her tone light enough that one would think she hadn't just appeared almost entirely out of nowhere.

Even as Lucina greeted them, though, Robin for some reason felt as if the masked swordswoman was shooting quick glances in his direction for the smallest of moments – or, at least that was what he thought she was doing; it was hard to tell with the mask obscuring the top half of her face.

That was why the tactician found himself very surprised when Lucina did indeed give him a minute nod of acknowledgement, the movement of her head just enough for him to pick up on it before the moment had come and gone.

Robin wanted to give the gesture some thought – was it one of simple acknowledgement…? Or was there something else to it? – but Chrom, it seems, wasn't about to give him the time of day to ponder on it.

"Before anything else, Marth… how in Naga's name did you even get in here?" the prince asked.

'That's a pretty good question to ask, all things considered,' Robin thought to himself. 'I don't recall anyone making mention of Lucina to the castle guards, and so I doubt an unknown masked swordsman would have been allowed through the gates… not at this hour, and especially not when Ylisse is preparing for a war.'

Robin almost thought he saw a smirk twist Lucina's lips.

"The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove," she replied, giving a nod with her head towards the offending vegetation off at the far end of the garden. "It was all a matter of ensuring I wasn't seen after that. I was lucky enough that your tactician was focused enough on looking for you that he didn't notice me tailing him the whole time."

'Wait, she what?!' Robin wanted to yell. 'But… how… she…'

Chrom, on the other hand, reeled back as if he'd just been struck across the face, eyes wide as they darted between her and the offending grove she'd indicated earlier.

"There?! But… how would you…" the prince breathed out. A hand went to his forehead as he groaned in frustration.

Robin glanced at Chrom. "You know what she's talking about?"

Chrom laughed nervously. "Know it? I'm the cause of it," he replied. "I bashed in a part of the wall while I was training with the Shepherds one day. It wasn't very big, and I thought we'd done a good job concealing it, but…"

"You… bashed a stone wall in?" Robin asked incredulously, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Chrom smiled sheepishly. "Yes, I did," he replied, before his lips turned downwards. "Though that really makes me wonder, Marth… How do you know about that hole in the wall?"

Lucina shook her head. "That is unimportant, and your secret is safe with me, regardless, Sire," she replied gravely. "I came here to warn you."

Robin suddenly straightened, his prior exhaustion forgotten. "Warn us…?" he asked, voice low.

"Mm, that is correct," Lucina affirmed. "The Exalt… her life is in grave danger."

Chrom's brows furrowed. "Emmeryn? That's absurd!" he exclaimed. "She's under heavy guard at all hours of the day! There's no way anyone could get to her!"

Lucina calmly regarded Chrom for a moment, and to Robin it almost looked as if she were assessing the prince from head to toe, before she looked away and bit her lip.

"What if…" she ventured carefully, her obvious care in choosing words prompting a frown from the tactician.

'Huh… strange,' he thought. 'Why does she seem so… hesitant, all of a sudden?'

Robin watched as Lucina took a deep breath, inaudible and unnoticeable save for the rise and fall of her chest and shoulders, before she turned to face them head-on once more.

"What if I told you that I've seen the future?" she asked quietly, her words stunning the two men into shocked silence. "Would you believe me?"

Robin blinked, his mind taking several seconds to process the girl's question due to its sheer absurdity.

'W-what…? What in blazes are you talking about?!'

If Lucina sensed the disbelief coursing through him and through Chrom, she certainly was doing a magnificent job at pretending she didn't notice.

"I've seen a future where Emmeryn is killed," she continued. "Here. Tonight."

Robin frowned, ready to dispute her bizarre claim, but it was Chrom who beat him to the punch.

"Seen the future?" he asked dubiously, his tone of voice reflecting Robin's own thoughts on the matter. "Have you lost your mind?"

Lucina sighed in clear resignation. "No, but I also expected you wouldn't believe me," she replied. "So… allow me to show you the truth in my words!"

Robin's eyes widened as Lucina drew her sword – the Falchion doppelganger – from its sheath and leveled it at Chrom.

'Lucina… what are you–?!'

---

The looks of shocked betrayal on both Robin and Chrom's faces had nearly been enough to sway Lucina from her course of action. Only the reminder that she had a mission to fulfill allowed her to hold firm to her current course of action, even as Chrom's own hand went to the sword sheathed at his left hip.

Even without the two men wearing their emotions so openly on their faces, Lucina could sense the shock and betrayal coursing through them… not that such a reaction had been unexpected in the first place given what she'd just said and done.

'How could they not react that way, though?' she thought sardonically. 'I've not really given them many reasons to trust me, after all…'

Lucina shook her head and focused her thoughts back on the present, trying to ignore the feeling of Robin's eyes boring into her. She didn't want to look – didn't want to see what sort of emotions they'd be reflecting.

"You don't know it yet, but I'm about to change your fate," she said, feeling the tension building in her body as the moment of truth drew ever closer.

She'd imagined the event playing out in her head a hundred if not a thousand times by now. She knew the story as well as she knew all the fairy tales about the Hero-King and the Radiant Hero and all manner of heroes from times long past.

It was on this very night that the Exalt Emmeryn would be slain and Prince Chrom would be gravely injured, setting the stage for a series of events that would lead the world down the path to ruin.

She clenched her jaw. 'Not if I have anything to do or say about it…!'

"Change… my fate…?" Chrom murmured, clearly unimpressed by what he could only perceive as mad ramblings.

Lucina nodded. "Yes…" she answered calmly, turning partway to motion with her head towards the well-trimmed garden bushes behind her while still keeping an eye on Chrom in case he tried anything hasty.

'Here goes…'

"You there, hiding in the bushes," she called out confidently, with all the inner strength she still had in her. "I know you're there, so there's little use continuing to hide. Show yourself!"

Almost as if on cue, a cloaked man – an assassin – burst out from the foliage, a wicked dagger falling out of his sleeve and into his waiting hand as he lunged forward.

Lucina's eyes narrowed behind her mask as she threw her sword up into the air, moonlight reflecting off of the blade's surface as it spun through the night sky. Vaulting up after it, Lucina twisted her body in midair as she caught her weapon, giving her a clear view of the assassin as his short sword flashed through the empty space she'd been occupying a mere moment before. Turning her motion into a spin as she descended behind the assassin, Lucina brought her blade down in a vicious two-handed diagonal slash that cut through the assassin's back from left hip to right shoulder, severing the man's spine and ensuring his last moments were, at the very least, mostly painless.

Rising from her crouch, Lucina flicked the blood off of Falchion's blade before holding it out to the side and away from Chrom and Robin – a clear sign of her good intentions, or so she hoped.

"Hopefully this proof will suffice," she said, almost taking pride at how nonchalant and casual her tone sounded when compared to the pounding adrenaline rushing through her veins. "Will you be more willing to believe me now?"

Robin nodded. "I'm more than willing to listen to what else you have to say after that display of fortune-telling," he said.

Lucina's spirits soared at the tactician's open declaration of trust, and it actually took much of her self-control not to let a smile touch her lips.

'Sir Robin… thank you.'

The good cheer that resulted from the masked girl's high spirits lasted but a moment, however, as a violent rustling of the leaves behind her alerted her and her two companions to another presence still hidden within the bushes from which the first assassin had emerged.

'What? There was another?!' she thought in alarm, a cry of surprise leaving her lips as she turned about to face the new threat, her eyes catching the second cloaked assassin in the air and angling right for her.

In her haste to react to the second assassin's appearance, however, Lucina failed to register everything in her immediate vicinity…

… Leading to her right foot stepping on the discarded sword that had been lying at her feet as she attempted to set her feet in order to meet the airborne assassin's assault. The sword moved along with the sole of Lucina's boot, throwing her off-balance and leaving her completely exposed to the assassin's sword.

In the half-second it took between her slipping on the first assassin's sword and the second assassin swinging his own blade, Lucina couldn't even fear for her own safety.

The blade closed the distance in an instant, its sharp edge gleaming in the moonlight as it sought Lucina's flesh.

---

Robin watched, eyes wide with horror, as the assassin swung his short sword at the stumbling Lucina, a shrill clang sounding out through the night air as the sword swept across Lucina's face. The tactician released the breath he hadn't realized he'd held when he saw the weapon come away without any blood on its edge or being sent flying.

Somehow, by whatever stroke of luck, Lucina slipping on the first assassin's discarded sword meant that the second assassin's blade missed her face by mere centimeters, only catching her mask and cleaving it in two right down the middle.

As he lurched into action, Robin had just enough time to notice a flash of dark blue and a gasp from the direction of the now-unmasked swordswoman before he was right on top of the assassin. He ducked the cloaked man's panicked strike and moved within arm's reach in a single smooth motion, his right hand crackling with electricity as he drove his palm right into the assassin's chest.

The discharge of the contained lightning spell caused a muffled flash to erupt where Robin's hand had made contact with cuirass, the light leather doing nothing to stop the magical attack from coursing through the assassin before the force of the energy threw him back several paces.

Robin shook his hand, trying to rid himself of the feeling of static from his own spell's backwash, before he remembered that Lucina had been hit and turned his attention to the girl.

What he saw quite simply took his breath away.

'She… she's beautiful…'

True, he'd thought the same thing when he'd first seen Lucina unmasked that night in Regna Ferox, but the force of the assassin's sword cleaving through her mask had also worked loose her hair from whatever clips she'd been using to simulate a more masculine hairstyle.

Now, Lucina's long, lustrous deep blue locks were visible for the world to see, the cerulean tresses cascading down over her shoulders and back like ocean waves. Robin noted that they framed her face very prettily, helping to draw attention to her striking sapphire-like eyes that already stood out like jewels against her pale skin.

However, Robin's mesmerized state lasted only about as long as it took for him to realize one other thing now that he was able to gaze at Lucina's unmasked features once again.

'Speaking of pale skin… she does not look good…' he thought grimly, his mood souring as he noted that Lucina looked even more tired and distraught than when he'd last seen her face without her mask. Her skin was even more pallid than it had been previously, further highlighting the ever more pronounced dark lines beneath her eyes – beneath a pair of haunted, dull, lifeless blue orbs that continued to speak to him about a life of pain, traumas, and loss that never got the chance to heal.

The tactician sighed. 'So much hardship in a face so young…' he thought, the face of the knight from the border flashing through his mind. Absently, he began to wonder again just what it was that had to happen for two people barely into their mid-teens to have seen so much and carry weapons as they did.

He was saved from further musings, however, by Chrom speaking up and asking the question Robin was sure he himself would have asked had he not already had prior knowledge of Lucina's true gender.

"Y-you're a… woman…?!" Chrom breathed out, the sheer incredulity in his voice nearly enough to coax a chuckle out of Robin.

Robin hid a smile. 'How very elegantly worded, my friend. Of course she's a woman.'

If Lucina's reply was anything to go by, though she probably thought much the same thing he did.

"And quite the actor, apparently," she replied to Chrom's question, her voice once again raised to its natural pitch now that her cover had been blown completely – well, not completely, given the fact that she still shifted so that her left side was facing away from Chrom.

While he'd already heard Lucina's real voice back in Ferox, Robin couldn't help but once again find it very pleasant to the ear, and it was doubly so when he considered that it reflected the amusement twinkling in her eyes and in the slight upward curves that touched the corners of her lips.

'That looks a bit better than that frown she always wears…'

Lucina tilted her head in a manner that Robin found disarmingly cute. "To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised the only one who figured it out was your tactician here."

Chrom quickly turned on Robin, eyes wide. "You knew?!"

Robin simply offered up a nonchalant shrug.

"In my defense, telling you Marth was actually a woman wouldn't have changed anything, Chrom," he replied almost carelessly, almost as if he hadn't thought keeping a secret from his employer, benefactor, and commander was anything worth the alarm the prince was currently showing. "At the very least, it doesn't change anything else we know about her."

Lucina nodded in agreement. "Yes… though, now that you know, I suppose there's little reason for me to continue this charade, is there?"

Robin snorted in poorly concealed amusement. 'She certainly had a good teacher in the sarcasm department.'

Before either of the two men could reply to Lucina's rhetorical question, however, an explosion from one of the higher floors in the palace rocked the entire building.

As a column of smoke began to billow out from a new hole in what seemed to be the far side of the castle, Robin quickly turned to Chrom.

"Look, if you weren't convinced before, I hope you're convinced now," he said quickly. "If there's a good time to believe in Marth's words – cryptic as they are – now's as good a time as any!"

Not really waiting for Chrom to reply, Robin then turned his attention to Lucina, who straightened as she came under his gaze.

"And you, Marth… will you be willing to fight alongside us and follow my orders once again? Just like that time in the forest?"

Lucina paused for but a moment before giving the tactician a firm nod.

"Of course. That is why I'm here," she replied, a fierce resolve overtaking the perpetual exhaustion in her features. "You may count on me, Sire."

Robin nodded. "Good, now let's go!"

---

The explosion and the pillar of smoke billowing up from the palace had been visible even from the outskirts of the castle town, enough so that what few people were still awake at this late hour had immediately reacted with varying degrees of shock and alarm at the sight.

The only one who hadn't been rooted to the spot had been the young cerulean-haired knight, who had immediately taken off running the moment the sight and sound of the explosion had reached his eyes and ears.

The knight made his way through the mostly-empty streets and alleys of Ylisstol's city proper, taking as direct a path to the castle as he could without risking discovery from any of the patrols or the members of the civilian populace who were now emerging from their homes – and how could they not, the blast had been loud enough that the entire city had probably heard it.

Someone moving with his speed and sense of urgency would only be treated with suspicion, never mind the fact he was dressed in Ylissean colors and patterns. Being seen head right for the palace just after some sort of explosive weapon or spell had gone off was just asking for trouble.

As he approached the castle walls, the knight could only hope that somehow his tardiness or any of the detours he was taking would not prove costly.

With the current situation facing them all, he was already cutting a very fine line just by erring on the side of caution.

'Damn it… please, just don't let me be too late…!'

---

Robin resisted the urge to sigh irritably as he and Chrom sprinted down the hallway towards the royal apartments. What had started out as a fairly bad day and had gotten better in the afternoon had quickly gone south now that they were dealing with what he could only assume was a Plegian attempt on the Exalt's life.

'Do tell me what else could happen, world,' he thought dryly. 'Come at me. Do your worst.'

Lucina, though, apparently couldn't be bothered to keep pace with him and Chrom. They weren't slow, by any means – and, personally, Robin thought they did quite well in the running department when compared to most of the other Shepherds not named Lon'qu – but it became readily apparent that to Lucina they may as well have been moving in slow-motion.

Within moments she'd put on a burst of speed that quickly carried her past the two men, leaving them to follow in her wake as she disappeared down the hallway, her cloak and hair fluttering in the air until she was completely out of sight.

'Odd… she knew exactly where to go, without even asking either of us.'

The thought elicited a frown from Robin as he considered the new information he'd managed to glean tonight from the enigmatic swordswoman's words and actions.

He knew he could trust Lucina – he'd taken the conscious decision to trust her, at the very least, and hers were eyes that were incapable of any sort of deception – but it was still disconcerting just how much she seemed to know.

Foresight aside – and that in itself was a mystery all on its own – Lucina's intimate knowledge of the palace layout was yet another piece to add to the complicated puzzle that she represented. It wasn't even that she simply knew her way around. Even the most minute details such as the hole in the wall that Chrom had bashed in, concealed, and not informed anyone else about were not beyond reach of Lucina's knowledge.

'Very odd, indeed…' he thought. 'That isn't the sort of thing she'd learn elsewhere except from someone who lives here…'

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he contemplated that particular little detail, before the sight of several armed figures appearing at the other end of the hallway made him shove all thoughts concerning Lucina's origins to the back of his mind.

The prince and tactician came to a halt as a trio of axefighters and a cloaked… thief? Assassin? Robin couldn't tell – made their way towards them.

"Chrom, go on ahead," Robin murmured, his words prompting the prince to whip about and level a heated look at the tactician.

"What?!" he whispered harshly. "Robin, are you mad?! There's too many of them for you to handle on your own!"

Robin shook his head. "No, Chrom, but–"

"But nothing! I can't let you fight them alone!"

Robin sighed. "Alright, listen. You need to get to your sister," he said coolly. "Her life is more important than anyone else's except maybe your own. There are many tacticians out there who can take my place; by that account, I can be viewed as expendable. Emmeryn isn't. If she dies tonight, suffice to say we might have already lost the war before it's even begun in earnest."

Chrom shook his head. "You're not expendable, Robin… no one is, not to me."

"I know," Robin replied easily. "But there are times when you have to make difficult choices."

Chrom's hand curled into a tight fist as he realized the truth in his tactician's words.

"Damn it, Robin, I really wish you didn't make so much sense right now," he ground out reluctantly. "You better not die on me."

The tactician smiled. "Don't worry, I'll try my best not to. Someone has to save you from yourself after all," he replied quietly. "Now go. Hurry. Marth might need your help if the assassins have come in force. I know for sure that Emmeryn will need you at your side."

Chrom hesitated a moment more before nodding and making for the staircase, bounding up two or even three steps at a time as he rushed for his older sister's quarters.

Robin barely registered the prince's departure, having already focused on the four intruders approaching him as he drew his sword and tome.

There were enemies to defeat and friends to save. Everything else could wait until afterwards.

---

Lucina narrowed her eyes as she approached the Exalt's chambers, noting as she took cover behind a pillar that the evening torches lining the hallway were still lit and the members of the Exalt's royal guards were still at their posts.

'Either the assassins haven't reached here yet… or they're already here and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike…'

Almost as if it were cued by her thoughts, a flash of silver within the shadows in the corridor caught Lucina's eye, allowing her to pick up on movements that were going on in the darkness. Before she could so much as even react, a dagger flew silently through the air, piercing one of Emmeryn's royal guards in the neck with a sickeningly wet thud. The mortally-wounded guard fell to the side, making gurgling sounds as he clawed at his throat, almost as if the action would somehow prevent him from choking on his own blood.

The remaining guard stared wide-eyed at his dying companion for a brief moment before hefting his spear and moving in the direction from which the dagger had come. However, that one single moment of distraction had been more than long enough to seal the Ylissean guard's demise, as another assassin was able to get the drop on him – quite literally – and shove a blade through his back and out his chest.

Lucina's heart clenched painfully as the assassin pulled his sword out from the royal guard's body, her mouth running dry and her throat thickening as the spray of blood from the assassin's actions tainted the hallway's normally pristine floor and walls.

'I'm sorry… Please, forgive me…' she thought, shutting her eyes tight to stave off the urge to shed tears at the senseless loss of life. She regretted the loss of those two lives, but, with so much at stake, she could not afford to act so impulsively. It was almost cruel of her to seemingly declare them as 'acceptable losses', but it was realistic to expect that even her interventions would not be enough to save everyone.

People were going to die, and to imagine otherwise was nothing more than a hopelessly naïve ideal… not that whatever rationalizations she gave herself would make watching innocent men die in front of her any easier.

Lucina took a deep breath to steady herself, willing away the emotions that would only serve to cloud her judgement, before opening her eyes once more.

She would not look away, and she would not forget. She would remember their faces, remember their sacrifice, and fight just that little bit harder for the better future they would no longer have the chance to see.

A flash of anger filled the young swordswoman as the visible assassin rummaged and kicked at the dead guards' bodies, clearly searching them for a key to the royal apartments. Frustrated at the clear lack of success, the assassin stood and made his way up to the door to Emmeryn's room.

The moment the assassin raised a hand to the door, Lucina decided that she could not wait any longer. Chrom and Robin or no, she had to move now.

'I can't fail… I can't…!'

Determination – and perhaps even a hint of desperation – fueled Lucina's body as the young swordswoman left her hiding place and rushed forward with a burst of speed that belied her fatigue, Falchion held low and ready to strike. During her charge, a glint of light from one of the shadowy corners around the Exalt's door caught Lucina's eye at the last moment, prompting her to drop into a slide that left Falchion's edge scraping across the ground even as a dagger sailed over her head.

The assassin at the door heard Lucina's sword leaving a trail along the floor with the all-too-familiar sound of metal scraping against stone, but by the time he could turn in her direction and bring his blade up to defend himself, Lucina had already crossed the entirety of the distance between them and was right on top of him.

Sacred steel flashed through the air as Lucina rose and swung in one smooth motion, her quick two-handed slash opening the assassin from left hip to right shoulder. The force of her attack sent the man sprawling into the oaken door he'd intended to open, colliding with it and splattering blood all over the carved wood before crumpling to a heap.

Lucina failed to even process that she'd taken her first life as her instincts screamed at her to move, and she almost instantly obliged by using the momentum of her initial attack to take a step to the side. A blade flashed through the space where her head had been just a half-second earlier, managing to nick her cheek instead of the intended decapitation its wielder had aimed for. Planting her foot to arrest her motion, Lucina swung from her hip, Falchion cutting through the assassin's leather cuirass – and the assassin himself – with ease.

Recovering quickly as the second assassin fell, Lucina turned to put the door at her back, sword held up across her face and body in a one-handed high guard. Her sapphire-like eyes almost wildly darted left and right, assessing her deathly quiet surroundings and just about catching the outlines of several cloaked figures moving through the patches of darkness that the shadows offered.

Lucina tensed, her grip tightening on Falchion's hilt as she waited for the assassins to make the first move… although those mere moments of inactivity after a burst of motion were enough for her vision to swim, very nearly leading her to falter and collapse to one knee as her endurance rapidly reached its limits.

'N-no! Not now!' she screamed at herself, trying to will away the ever growing fatigue plaguing her mind and body. 'I… must… keep… fighting!'

Shaking her head fiercely to rid herself of the sudden dizziness, Lucina retook her stance and focused on maintaining her balance and watching her surroundings, hoping against hope that the assassins after the Exalt's life hadn't managed to catch her momentary lapse.

Judging by how she didn't have to wait too long for the assassins to act, they most certainly had, and were now fully aware that they were dealing with an opponent who was not at all in good condition.

A glint of silver out of the corner of her eye alerted Lucina to an aggressor approaching from her flank. Glancing the other way to make sure she wasn't being attacked from two sides, Lucina turned in the direction of the revealed assassin and dashed forward to meet him halfway.

Falchion flashed through the air as the assassin thrust forward with his own sword, the two weapons missing each other by the barest of margins before continuing on to their target.

Lucina ducked ever so slightly as she, allowing her pauldron to absorb the assassin's premature attack and redirect the sword away from any vital points. The assassin, on the other hand, tried to twist his body away from Falchion's oncoming blade, but his early commitment to a motion was a fatal mistake that left him exposed to Lucina's counterattack.

Falchion cut through the assassin's chest like a hot knife through butter, blood spraying onto the young swordswoman at the other end of the sword even as the two's respective momentum carried them sailing past each other.

Quickly skidding to a stop, Lucina allowed instinct to take over as she turned and swung Falchion in a wild arc, the sacred steel battering aside a thrown knife from an assassin that had attempted to blindside her from the back. Continuing her turn into a somersault, Lucina flipped over the offending assassin that had attempted a follow-up attack with his sword. Falchion flashed through the air once again as Lucina sailed over the lunging assassin, cutting through his cloak and the back of his cuirass.

Carrying the momentum of her somersault into a forward roll, Lucina quickly came up in a crouch with Falchion already angled across her body, allowing her to catch the sword belonging to a fifth assassin before it could even come close to wounding her.

'Just how many of them did they send after the Exalt?!' Lucina asked mentally as she pushed hard against the assassin, grinding her teeth together with the effort.

Lacking any form of leverage or proper defensive stance and battling against her ever-growing fatigue, however, Lucina found herself quickly losing ground beneath the assassin's sword, the pressure being exerted upon her forcing her down to one knee. She still managed to hold firm for a few moments, but the constant exertion had quickly drained what little endurance she still had left in her body.

Her vision swam once more as white began to nibble at the edges of her perception, and in that single moment of lost focus the contest had already been decided.

The assassin gave Lucina a rough shove, sending her tumbling back, but even in her state the young swordswoman had just enough presence of mind to allow the momentum to carry her into a roll backwards before planting her feet and springing forward with Falchion poised for a counterstrike.

Lucina thrust Falchion forward towards her opponent's heart, but with her fatigue weighing her limbs down and serving a constant mental distraction the motion was far more sluggish than it normally would have been. The assassin easily read her attack, easily deflecting it with a deft flick of his own blade.

A flash of light reflecting off of something metal made Lucina quickly jerk to the side and pull her sword back in close. Angling it across her body, barely managing to keep the assassin's gauntlet-mounted razors from ripping into her. However, she hadn't been able to fully absorb the impact.

The force of the impact from the assassin's blow sent Lucina slamming back-first into the Exalt's door, the impact with the heavy oaken door rattling the girl and forcing a cry of pain from her lips as she sank down to the ground. Struggling to lift herself up from the ground as her chest heaved with shallow, if ragged, breaths, the young swordswoman only managed to raise her head just as the assassin's sword was drawn back and swung forward with the intent to kill.

Lucina's eyes widened, the world seeming to slow down around her as her perception focused entirely on herself and the sword moving forward to cut her down.

However, in those few fragments of a second, she quickly realized that absolutely nothing she could do would prevent the assassin from delivering a direct and almost surely fatal blow.

The young swordswoman screwed her eyes shut as the assassin's sword moved to pierce her chest and heart, a single thought – a single name – flitting across her consciousness as fear overtook her.

'Leon…!'

The loud clang of metal striking metal filled the air, Lucina's eyes tightening as she tensed for the inevitable explosion of sharp pain erupting from her chest…

… An explosion of pain that never actually came.

In the moment it took Lucina to realize that the expected pain had never arrived, she also suddenly realized that what she'd heard had been the weapon aimed for her striking something else before it could reach her.

At first opening her eyes slowly, Lucina's sapphire orbs quickly shot open in surprise at a familiar, all-too-welcome sight before her.

"I… I'm not dreaming… am I…?" she whispered hopefully, tears of relief and joy pricking at her eyes as she took in the white coat, long cerulean-blue hair, elegant turquoise scarf, and gold-trimmed silver armor of the one person she could say with full confidence mattered more to her than any other in the world.

"L… Leon…?"

The young man standing protectively before her used the entire length of his longsword to hurl the assassin away and open up some breathing space around them before turning ever so slightly to gaze at her with the most beautiful pair of sapphire-like eyes she could ever remember seeing.

"You're definitely not dreaming…" he replied gently, his quiet, even voice sending Lucina's heart soaring. "I'm real, Luci. I'm here."

Lucina slumped back as utter relief and elation coursed through her body. The tears pooling at the corners of her eyes finally began to slide down her cheeks, leaving wet streaks trailing down features which were now touched by an absolutely radiant smile.

'Brother…'