A/N: What do you know? I'm alive. We're going back to the past for this chapter, somewhere between chapters 5 and 6. Hope you like it and it was worth the wait. Once again, thank you for the support and patience. And big props to The Erudite for his assistance. I'd be lost without all of it.

Kick

A soft but sudden cry brought Chrom to his feet, and the sight of a grimace on Sumia's face struck him like a bolt fired right into his chest, to say nothing of her hand resting against her swollen belly.

"Is it time?" the question sputtering as he asked it. Should he run for the midwife? Should he stay and send someone else? Should he do anything at all? His hands shook, and as for his mind, it was all a whirl, like the violent summer windstorms. Even though he knew this day was coming, he never imagined it would come this soon.

Sumia's smile puzzled him. It looked far too bright for a woman about to give birth, and to his great surprise, she started laughing.

"No, it's not yet," she replied, her hand never leaving her stomach. With her other hand, she waved to him. "Come here, Chrom."

"But-"

"Just come here," she repeated, waving again. With quivering steps, he did as she asked, though the earlier sight and sound still lingered in his eyes and ears. Sumia took his hand, guiding it to the bulge. At first, all he noticed was the warmth of his wife's hand against his own and her linen gown beneath his fingers. What was supposed to happen? He wondered if time was even slowing down as he waited for whatever had caused his wife to cry out as she did.

Then he felt it; a tiny foot kicking at his palm. Chrom swallowed, his throat dry, as a multitude of sensations burst within him all at once; awe, joy, wonder and even some disbelief.

"Oh gods, Sumia is…is that our baby?" His own voice sounded distant to his ears as well as his wife's giggling. Whatever she said, he could not hear. With each new kick, images, wispy and wonderful pictures, floated through his mind. A boy stood at his side, his head standing no higher than his father's knees. Then, he held a sword of his own, and the two prepared to spar. Finally, Chrom beheld a young man accepting the sacred blade, Falchion. Another kick, harder than the last, it seemed, struck his hand. "Well, he'll be a strong one," the words tumbling from his mouth, "yes, he will."

A sigh shook him from his reverie. Sure enough, his wife's happy smile had faded, and a colder line took its place.

"What is it, Sumia?" She shook her head and turned her eyes towards some corner of the room, away from him.

"It's nothing." His breakfast sat like a boulder in his stomach at her words, which were clearly untrue.

"What is it?" he persisted.

"Nothing," Sumia snapped. He winced at her tone, withdrawing his hand as if he held it to fire. What in Naga's name had he done this time? He bit his tongue to avoid asking that very question. With a sigh of his own, he headed back to his chair, certain another few days of silence awaited him.

"Chrom," she called before he had even taken a step. Her voice fell soft, quiet, and almost regretful for her earlier outburst. "How would you feel if our child...wasn't a boy?

"What?" he stammered.

"I know how much you want a son. For almost eight months, that's all you've ever said, 'He'll be a strong boy.' And I would love to give you the son you want; the son Ylisse wants. But Chrom," she brought her eyes towards his, "what if it's a daughter? Please, please just tell me you love me, even if I don't give you the son you want; if I don't give the kingdom a prince."

"Oh, Sumia..." he drawled, quite in shock that she should worry so. Worse still, it shamed him to know he had caused it. "Sumia, I promise you, I love you, "he laid his hand against her belly, "and I will love this baby. Don't ever doubt I will, no matter if it's a son or a daughter." He dropped to his knees, placing a lengthy, loving kiss to the swell, earning a squeal from his wife. He held his lips to that spot until the baby kicked again; harder this time for certain.

"I think she liked that," Chrom remarked with a small chuckle. Sumia nodded, returning his hand to her stomach, covering it with her own.

"Yes, I'm sure he did."