There aren't really any Risen in this chapter, it would be kind of weird to be writing about them or any kind of Risen King so close to Easter. "Risen King" can be taken a couple of ways depending on which view you're coming from. I do hope this whole COVID mess isn't getting in the way of celebrating one of the best holidays of the year for you guys! I wish you all health and safety in this still uncertain time!

"... I'm not sure how to feel about the fact that Someone earned the Risen King title before I gave it to Chrom."

Ah, I wouldn't think too hard on that. Besides, Risen Chrom is a definite no-no for this story.

"Agreed. I think I'd rather experience degeneration rather than putting him through that again."

Don't own, otherwise you'd be able to Support with the Einherjar. (I was very sad when I found out I couldn't put my F!Robin Viera with Marth. She's with Chrom, though, which makes me happy.)

"Did you get the latest update from our lord?"

"Hmm, no, I don't quite think so. It's rather sad, but he seems to be giving me only the bare minimum. It's a shame, really. Have I not always been faithful to him?"

"Of course you have. Sugar?"

"Ooh, yes, thank you. Well, this is rather saddening. What did he tell you?"

"I have the letter here, you can read it."

"… I don't… I don't understand! He is asking you and Aversa to be two of his trusted deputies in his new world order?! Why wasn't I informed?!"

"That isn't the concerning part. Is it not strange that he is planning for such a thing in the first place? I thought he was simply going to wipe out everything and be done with it."

"True, true. How strange. What else does it say… new Hierophant? But does that mean someone is replacing you?"

"If I were one of his deputies, I imagine that might be the case. Who would be up to the task, though? Who else is Marked with the Fell Brand?"

"Robin? Oh, no, he says the boy will be the Advisor to the new Hierophant. But who—ohhhhhhh, that would be incredibly, deliciously satisfying! Inventive, truly!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I have reason to believe that our lord is behind the disappearance of the Ylissean prince fifteen years ago. Why, around the same time the child was reported missing, our lord appeared in Valm Harbor with a boy matching the prince's description, and the boy never left his side the whole time they were in the port! I wonder… It would be a magnificent stroke of revenge if he had taken Naga's wretched Chosen and… educated… him in our ways. Oh, the payback will be glorious!"

"I'm not certain you're correct, but I'll leave it be. In the meantime, I think we should think of a contingency."

"Whatever for?"

"Just… in case."

"Hmm. Well, I believe I have a few ideas, listen here…"

Grima passed through the gates to Ylisstol, urging Eugene onwards. In his time the city had been a broken, dead husk of the shining jewel that currently stood upon Capital Mount, and he lifted his gaze up to the palace glistening in the sunlight. I wonder what Chrom thought when he first saw this sight. That is, if he saw it—that idiot knight fanatic went far enough to cuff him, he might have gone further and knocked him out. The albino gritted his teeth, growling low in his throat. His mount shied and whinnied, nervous. Oops. Forgot. Sorry, old boy.

He continued along the main thoroughfare until he came to the castle. There, the guards at the gate stopped him. "What is your business with the Exalt, sir?" one of them called out.

Another squinted at the dragon in confusion before lighting up. "Hey, weren't you with the princess and Sir Frederick when they returned?"

"I'm afraid not, though I do know who you're thinking of." Grima gave them the same story he'd given the Southtown mayor: that Robin was his twin (false) and he was searching for his son (true). "Have you seen anyone like him? From what I heard, he came in with the princess, her retainer, and my brother."

A third guard gave him a suspicious look. "And if we did? Why would we tell you?"

The albino blinked in shock. "I'm sorry, did I not say I was his father? His foster father, to be precise. Yes, I'm aware I look young, that still doesn't change the fact."

The guards shared a look of silent communication among each other. "Sir, with all due respect, Sir Frederick believes he is our lost prince. Now, some of us may doubt that that's true," the first guard sighed, "but the point is that he will be kept under twenty-four-hour protection until Sir Frederick has determined whether or not he is the prince. It's what he calls the Chrom Protocol." One of the other guards coughed "protochrom." "Shut up, Kyle."

"Or Princess Lissa could've enlisted him in the Shepherds!" piped a fourth guard.

"Or that. Wait, what?"

"Yeah! I overheard them talking, she wanted both of those mages in!"

"Oh. Yikes." The first guard winced. "If that's the case, he's left the capital. The Exalt sent a contingent of Shepherds to Regna Ferox to ask for an alliance, and it's likely Sir Frederick took him with them."

"W… What?!" Grima clenched the reins in his hands. "How dare he, that—! Ahem. Please excuse my outburst, it's just that I've been very worried over the past few days."

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid there's nothing else I can do."

"Oh, but if we do get word from him, we'll pass it on to you, all right?" the fourth guard suggested.

Grima sighed, then nodded. "I would very much appreciate that. If you need to find me, I'll be staying at… um, what's the best inn here at the lowest price?"

After the guards directed him to a nearby bed-and-breakfast, the Fell Dragon slumped into a plush chair inside his reserved room, weary. Oh, Chrom… I do hope you're all right. My son, I want to tell you the plans I have—but only just a little bit. I think you might like them, although you've never been drawn to power and authority… Just wait and be patient. I'll free you from those lowly worms who wish to force you into their royalty and take you away to a place where you'll be safe from them, since Middlefield is clearly no longer out of their range. We can travel the world together… you'll be the only person I'll ever need…

Eventually he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

"How're you doing this fine day, Freddy Bear?"

"I must ask you to refrain from calling me that, Robin."

From his mount the platinum-head pouted at the brown-haired knight. "Aww, then what am I gonna call you? Fredders? Fred-Man? Frederico? Frederickson?"

Chrom snorted into his fellow mage's shoulder. "You might wanna quit while you're behind there, Robin."

"Why can't I call you 'Freddy Bear?' Ooh, is it because someone close to you calls you that? Is it your mom?"

Frederick's lips tightened. "…"

"Is it your dad?"

"…"

"Is it your sist—"

"If you must know, it is Lady Emmeryn who calls me by that endearment. Privately."

"Oooooooh, Chrom, we were right! Our hypothesis has been proven! Fair frigate Fremmeryn has set sail!"

Chrom burst out laughing. "Robin, you are officially the weirdest person I have ever met."

"That doesn't seem to be a problem for you."

"No, no, it is not. Compared to Kellam and me, though? You definitely take the cake."

"Wowwwww," drawled the raven-haired armored knight. Robin jumped and squawked. "You've spent how many years with me and how many days with Robin and already you think he's the weirdest?"

The older mage gave him a flat look. "In my opinion, a guy who sneaks up on people in full armor is eligible for the title. How—Why do you even do that, anyway?!"

"It's funny."

"I may or may not have given him the idea when we were kids," Chrom commented, adjusting his handcuffed grip around Robin's waist. "Instead of getting upset about not being noticed, now he goes around and pranks people with it. I keep telling him he needs to go study the ninja way to fully realize his potential."

"Silent armored knight is very useful though."

"… Okay, I'll give you that."

Chrom shifted in his position behind Robin and looked out over the convoy. In the back, Vaike gave him a friendly wave, his missing axe from two days ago strapped to his back. Next to the blonde, Kellam smirked and gave a jaunty salute. In front of the two mages and Frederick, Stahl, the green-haired knight who roomed with Kellam, chatted with Sully, who ignored Virion's input (he rode behind her on her horse). Up ahead in the front, Lissa and Miriel, the red-haired glasses-wearing mage, kept a sharp eye out for any potential interlopers. Sumia had stayed behind to take care of an injured pegasus—Chrom hoped she was all right.

The bluenette snuggled down into his roasty-toasty coat. Snow dotted his eyelashes and bangs, though his hood covered his head. Similarly, Robin kept his own hood up, enjoying his own cloak's comforts.

Writing the letter to Dad had taken quite a load off of Chrom's chest. Now he only had to worry about it actually getting to his father, but hopefully the palace guard he'd been instructed to give it to would be able to fulfill his mission. Maybe after this journey to Regna Ferox the two would meet up, Chrom could assuage his father's worries better, and then he could introduce him to the Shepherds. I hope he'll think about that job offer… and I wouldn't be a bookseller's assistant, I'd be a Shepherd myself… I'd have to let Mr. Daniel know and get his opinion. Besides, all my friends are based in Ylisstol now, it's so logical—why can't I just say yes? An image of the old cottage he'd lived in nearly all his life flashed in his mind. Oh… He sighed. Dad probably loves that old place, too. It is home, and I'm not sure that's what the capital is yet, although the Shepherds are doing a fantastic job of making it feel that way… If only we could, I don't know, teleport it to the city or something… but Middlefield—and the bandits… except the Shepherds are supposed to deal with that kind of thing… Ugh, I wish I had Dad's opinion.

In the distance, a long strip of dark gray stone set against the drifting snow caught the mage-healer's eye. That must be the Longfort. I remember learning about it in school, but… gods above, it's way more impressive in real life! As the group drew closer, Chrom made out several figures standing on top of the fort. "That's a lot of guards up there. Are they dealing with attacks as well?"

"Who knows." Robin shrugged. "Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they were."

A voice from the Longfort rang out. "Halt!" A woman with short blonde hair and heavy armor stood at the front. "Who goes there?!"

"We're from Ylisse!" Lissa called back. "We're an envoy from the capital, here to see the Khans—"

"Do not take another step! We are armed and ready for an attack!"

Frederick rode to the front and cleared his throat. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding. We were sent by the Exalt herself. She wishes to discuss matters of mutual interest to us—"

"My only interest is in keeping you brigands safely out of Regna Ferox!" the woman yelled.

Uh-oh. As Chrom watched the two go back and forth, he frowned. Imposters? Sounds like they've had pretty bad trouble on their end. That's disturbing. He tuned in just in time to hear Frederick announce that both Princess Lissa and Prince Chrom were with the company!

"Ha! Now I know you are not who you say you are! The prince has never been found, and no Ylissean would claim he was with them!"

Chrom and Robin glanced at each other, eyes wide. "He actually went there?! Can you believe him?! The nerve!" The bluenette face-planted directly between his platinum partner's shoulder blades.

"Ow."

"Sorry," the younger mage mumbled into the older's coat.

"They want to settle this with violence."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Chrom sat back up just in time to see several lancers throw their weapons at the blonde princess. His heart stopped. "LISSA!"

Swish!

The mage-healer gasped, his heart now pounding, and glanced up to find Sumia flying on the formerly-injured pegasus with Lissa riding behind her. He breathed a sigh of relief. As the other Shepherds fell into their positions, Frederick galloped over and unlocked the boy's cuffs. "It is my understanding that Umbra is not lethal to human beings. We will need your proficiency if we are to come out of this without any losses on either side." He helped Chrom off of the horse. "Robin, loath as I am to trust you, we need a battle plan. How shall we proceed?"

Robin smirked as he dismounted. "I have just the idea…"

"Y-You have my apologies!" the guard captain, Raimi, stammered, bowing to the Shepherds. "We truly took you to be brigands, trying to take advantage of us—but no imposter could fake such skill in battle! I will send word to the capital that you have arrived and personally escort you there myself!"

"Thank you! We appreciate it!" Lissa chirped. "And don't worry about it, I understand. We're dealing with bandit issues too."

"Then I will make my report." Before she strode off, Raimi pulled Frederick aside. "Is it true? Is he…?"

Chrom huffed and pulled his hood all the way over his head; Frederick just nodded. "I am certain that he is, although he insists to the contrary."

"In that case, you have my congratulations."

After she left, the bluenette lifted his hood enough to glare at the steward-like knight. "Do you have a problem, or are you just that sadistic?"

"My guess is probably both," Robin muttered. "Can we go now? I know Chrom and I are doing just fine, but Vaike is freezing."

"Yes, of course." Frederick took the lead along with Lissa. "Let us be on our way."

If the Longfort was impressive, Arena Ferox was beyond incredible. Chrom couldn't help but gawk at the massive structure that held the city and the arena where the Khans and their champions fought for supremacy. He wished his father could be here to see this, but such was life. Oh well, maybe after they met back up they could take a trip around the world before settling back down—although in order to get enough funds first, the two of them would have to work hard and save up enough to even make it out of Ylisse. That was an issue for another time, however; right now the group had been led to the throne room to meet the Khans. Or one of them, anyway.

"What do you think the Khan is like?" Robin wondered to him as they stood in the enormous, warm hall. "If he's a warrior, I imagine he's a great big bear of a man, with a furry chest, massive muscles, loads of scars—"

"Am I, now?" said a blonde woman with light-brown skin and red-accented armor as she stepped into the hall. The platinum-head froze, and she laughed. "Oh, don't stop on my account. By all means, continue!"

Chrom giggled as his friend covered his face in mortification. "I'm gonna shut up now, nothing to see here."

"Oh, Robin, maybe the other Khan is like that."

Robin glanced up at him, eyes goggling. "There's another one?!"

"Yeah." The bluenette nodded. "It's how their nation is ruled: one Khan for the area of East Ferox, and one for West Ferox. Every so many years the two Khans hold a tournament to see who can beat the other. Winner gets to rule all of Ferox until the next tourney."

"Huh. That's different." The older mage took a good, long look at the female Khan while she talked business with Lissa and Frederick. "I guess this Flavia is the Khan of East Ferox?"

Chrom sighed. "Yeah, but last I heard, she wasn't the Khan in charge. That would be… Basilio, I think his name is? The West Khan. Anyhow," he scratched the back of his head, "she won't be able to authorize any aid for us—although, I wonder… when the next election tourney comes around…"

"Or we could just go to Basilio."

"That too."

Apparently Flavia had been thinking the same thing as Chrom, for she asked the Shepherds to represent her in the next tournament, and Lissa accepted. Since the tournament was still a few days away, the Khan organized room and board for the Shepherds and had a few guards lead the group to their new quarters. The mage boys ended up sharing a room again, with Kellam and Vaike right next door and Frederick and Virion across the hall. Chrom picked the left side of the room and dumped his pack next to his bed, flopping down on the mattress. "Haaaahhh…"

"I know, right?" Robin copied his action and sighed. "Gods, I'm exhausted. I don't think I like riding horses for such long stints."

"You'll get used to it."

"Speaking from experience?"

Chrom sat up and grinned. "How else do you think I get around Southern Ylisse so quickly?"

"Fair enough. Oh, hi, Kellam."

The beefy knight, out of his armor and in casual tunics, leaned against the doorframe. "This is nice, huh? How're you holding up, Chrom?"

"As well as can be expected. I wrote a letter to Dad, so hopefully he gets it and stops worrying so much."

"Gotcha. I'm gonna see about lunch, the guys and I are famished. If you two want to tag along, you're absolutely welcome to."

"Awesome." Chrom got up and stretched. "And when we're done, I'm going to see if there's anything resembling a library in this whole place."

Robin snickered, following the two out of the room. "You and me both."

Lunch was altogether rather raucous and enjoyable. Chrom found Feroxi cuisine delicious, even though he stayed away from the spicy stuff. He was definitely going to get that one goulash recipe and adapt it for him and his father to try sometime. Afterwards, he headed to the arena library where he found, to his pleasant surprise, a whole section on epics of the great warriors. He'd picked one out and now had his nose in it as he wandered back to his shared room. Further down the hall, footsteps echoed on a trajectory towards him, but he paid it no attention—that is, until he smacked right into the person and sent them both tumbling.

"Eek!"

"Aaah!"

Chrom crashed onto his butt hard and winced, the book flying out of his hands. "Ughhh… are you all right?"

"I-I'm okay, th-thank you…"

The bluenette glanced up and beheld a blushing pink-haired girl his age in a white outfit with flowing brown gauze sleeves and pants. His cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Getting up and gathering his book, he held out his hand to help her up. "I'm s-so sorry about that, I r-really should've been watching where I was going. My father always gets on my case for reading while walking."

The girl covered her mouth, hiding a giggle. "Is this something you do frequently?"

"Sometimes. It kind of annoys him—though to be fair, he has done it once or twice."

"Like father, like son, then?"

Chrom laughed. "Well, it would be if he were my biological father. I'm actually adopted. He rescued me when I was very young and has cared for me nearly all my life."

"Really?" The girl perked up. "That sounds a lot like my experience with Basilio. He rescued me as well and he's been like a father to me ever since!"

"So you know what it's like too!" The bluenette beamed and held out his hand. "I'm Chrom."

"Olivia." The pinkette shook his hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Chrom, it's not often I come across someone with similar experiences."

"I know what you mean. You said Basilio raised you? Are you here for the tournament?"

"Oh, no, no!" She blushed and covered her face with her hands. "I'm really not! I'm just here to watch, I'm no good at anything other than dancing… and I'm not even good at that!"

Chrom reddened again. "O-Oh, I see. Uh, but maybe you could show me anyway? Or is it that embarrassing?"

"I-It is…"

"Okay, well, never mind, then."

Olivia lifted her face from her hands. "R-Really?"

The mage shrugged and held the book close to his chest. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. Trust me, I know a thing or two about horribly embarrassing yourself."

"Would that have anything to do with Risen Sar—ow!"

Chrom had jumped, whipping around and slamming his book down on Robin's head. The blue-haired mage yelped in shock and flushed bright red, hiding his face behind the book. Olivia gave a little giggle as the platinum-blonde tactician rubbed his sore head, grimacing. "Can you not pull a book on me next time?"

Chrom squeaked an unintelligible apology from behind his book.

From around the corner, the other guys from the Shepherds appeared. Kellam practically radiated smug energy while Stahl and Vaike cackled at the bluenette's expression. "I knew Robin was too curious to let the subject drop for long, so I thought I'd let him sneak up on you and spring the question, but that reaction? Priceless." He slung an arm around the albino, grinning. "Consider your hazing passed, weirdo."

"Wow, I feel so accepted now," Robin snarked as Chrom nailed the ravenette knight in the head with the book and proceeded to pull his hood over his flushed face in lieu of the book.

Olivia stepped beside the flustered mage-healer and, after hesitating, laid her hands on his shoulders. "Um… Chrom? A-Are these men bothering you?"

Chrom paused, then shook his head side-to-side in a "so-so" manner. Kellam laughed and shook his head. "Sorry about that, it's just that the topic you guys were talking about—embarrassing yourself, right?—was too perfect, and hey, look what happened! Prime example!"

"Okay, but is Risen Sarah really that ba—Ow! Mother of Grima, Chrom, is that Thoron level?!"

"All right, all right, all right." Kellam patted a slightly smoking Robin in the back. "We're starting to cross a line here, you know you've gone too far when he starts zapping you. And to answer your question, yes, it really was that bad, and believe me, I know what I'm talking about, I was there for it. Wait until he feels comfortable enough to open up about it, okay? Chrom, I'm sorry about my part in it, I know that wasn't really fair to you." He held the book out in apology.

"'S okay." Chrom took the book back, nodding to show Kellam and the others he'd forgiven them.

The cheers of the crowd hammered down on the young bluenette's ears as the two teams awaited the start of the tournament. Chrom glimpsed a familiar masked swordsman on the opposite side and narrowed his eyes. What is Marth doing here? He came from the same portal as those Risen… what does he stand to gain in all this? Lissa must've noticed him too, because she tried to get a response out of the enigmatic man, but he remained silent. Then the two swordfighters drew their weapons—and the mage gasped at the sight of another Falchion. Isn't that sword one of a kind?! How does he have one just like it?! He shook his head, pushing memories of his father's bedtime stories out of his focus. When this fight was over he was going to find Marth and get some answers. He drew Umbra and stood in a ready stance.

Lissa rushed at Marth, leapt high, and spun downwards like a ball, landing with her Falchion blocked by its twin. The two swiped and slashed at each other, Marth using his small frame to pull off a barrel roll. Chrom bit his lip as the two clashed in a lock. They're both small, thin, fast, and very strong. They could be evenly matched, but… wait. That grip looks very familiar. Isn't that how I hold my sword?

"Hey, Marth! Where'd you learn to fight?" Lissa called out, disengaging and pushing back.

The two fighters lunged at each other, swords scraping against each other. Marth launched himself into the air with the same maneuver Lissa had started the fight and yelled, "My father!" He just missed catching the princess as he landed. Getting up to face the Shepherds, he pointed his "Falchion" at them in a clear challenge.

Robin signaled at them to charge, and the fight was on. Chrom paired up with his fellow mage, and together the two whirled about the arena in a storm of magic and blades, Robin shouting the occasional order to the other Shepherds. Kellam and Sully slashed and jabbed in perfect synchrony, clearly used to working together. Vaike covered Lissa's back as she fought her way towards the other end of the arena. Frederick—well, Frederick galloped about, pretty much unstoppable. The mage duo eventually found themselves up against Marth.

"When you said your father, who were you talking about?" Chrom challenged as he readied his tome.

The swordsman's left hand twitched in his direction, very minute. "I've said enough for one day, sir," he replied. At that, Robin scoffed.

"Oh, so what, do you have like a quota of words you can use per day or something? Is that supposed to fit with the 'mysterious stranger' stereotype?"

"Robin."

"What? I had to! Perfect opening!"

Chrom sighed. "Look, you saved my life, and I'm very grateful for it. Unfortunately, I'm here on behalf of the East Khan and Ylisse. I won't hold back… but I also have no intentions of humiliating you."

"Heh," the bluenette swordsman chuckled, seemingly confused, "never expected such youthful arrogance…"

"Say what now?"

"We shall see who shames who!" And with that, Marth ran up, stabbing at Chrom, who blocked with his trusty old steel sword. Robin shot a bolt of Thunder at the masked man, hitting him in the stomach. The three traded slashes and spells with the bluenette mage aiming just off target—Umbra being as strong as it was—and Marth called out, "Let us fight with honor. May the best soldier win!" before charging again, this time at the albino. Robin took a cut to his left arm and slammed another Thunder into the sword-wielder, knocking him down and out of the fight.

Marth shook his head. "Impressive… if not surprising…"

With the swordsman's defeat, the announcer declared the match over and the East Khan victorious. Flavia came down to thank the Shepherds and assure them of Ferox's alliance with Ylisse before running off to prepare victory celebrations.

"Oh, great! That girl, always jumping at the chance for a party…"

The group turned and beheld a buff dark-skinned man with an eyepatch striding towards them. Lissa frowned. "Sorry, but have we met before?"

"Now we have. I'm the West Khan you just dethroned!" He looked the blonde princess over. "I'll give it to you, li'l missy, you're sharp with a blade. I was positive my champion was better…"

"What about him?"

The Khan waved her off. "Oh, he's just some merc who's got delusions of grandeur. He did beat my old champ soundly and I fell in love immediately—which I'm too old for, hahaha!"

Something clicked in Chrom's head. "Oh! You're Basilio, aren't you! Olivia told me about you."

"Olivia, eh?" Basilio turned his gaze on the mage-healer. "You've gotta be Chrom, then, she won't stop talking about you. You made a solid impression on her, kiddo, I'll be darned! Although," he stepped forward, scanning the boy, "I heard whispers that Prince Chrom had been found. I'm assuming that's you?"

"I-It-It hasn't been proven yet!" Chrom cried, flustered. "Frederick just thinks I am!" He got a glare from the knight for that.

"Soooooo, that Marth then." Robin steered the conversation towards a (slightly) less frustrating topic. "Where'd he disappear to?"

"Oh, he checked out pretty much the moment the winner was announced. Sorry if you wanted to speak with him."

Well, there went that idea. Great, just great. I wanted to know more about where he came from.

Could it be… he and I are from the same world?

While Frederick wanted to return to Ylisse immediately, the Shepherds wound up staying another night and day at the Feroxi capital thanks to the blizzard outside. The West Khan had very kindly gifted Lon'qu, the gruff myrmidon who had been Basilio's old champion, to the group as Ferox's first soldier to support Ylisse. Flavia had invited the Shepherds to a victory celebration that night, where Chrom had encountered Olivia again, and this time the two spoke more at ease with each other. Lon'qu had come up during their conversation and told the bluenette to treat her well or he'd skewer the mage with his blade. Turned out the myrmidon and the dancer considered themselves brother and sister! Chrom had calmed the man by relating the similarity of his experiences with Olivia's, and the ravenette had patted him on the back and offered him a ghost of a smile before slipping back into the crowd. Afterwards Basilio told the mage-healer that Lon'qu had basically adopted the boy as his younger sibling. Chrom had been flattered and found the action sweet of the Chon'sin man.

Now, though, he sat in his room, perusing another epic (he'd managed to finish the first one in his free time before the tournament). Olivia had lent him this one with the promise that he would take good care of it and return it to her the next time they met. His coat hung on his chair; a fire crackled in the hearth across from the door, sparks popping out on occasion. He slouched forward in the chair over the book as he read. I wonder if I should write Father again… nah, he should have gotten my letter by now. Although… no… Gah, make up your mind, Chrom!

Someone knocked on the door and opened it. "Come i—Frederick?"

"Milord. I believe it is imperative for you to begin integrating yourself into the Ylissean hierarchy upon our return to Ylisstol. Therefore," the knight strode over to the boy's desk and plopped a set of documents onto it, "it is important for you to become better acquainted with the state of our affairs through the scrutiny of these files. Doing so will ensure you are not behind when it comes to the politics of the realm."

"Okay, you know what?" Chrom slammed the book shut and pushed back his chair, standing up. "This whole 'missing prince' thing has gone on far too long. I realize it's been about two weeks now, which isn't very long, but it has got to the point where it needs to stop. You're irritating the princess and everyone else in the Shepherds with it, the Khans are wondering why I'm not there at strategy meetings—yes, I made sure I avoided you for those, I wouldn't have anything new to give you—and the Exalt clearly wants you to knock it off from what I saw of her in the capital! Can you stop making this harder for everybody and just admit I'm not the person you're looking for?!"

"I will not." The brunette man glared down at him. "I made a promise to find the prince and I will fulfill that duty to the best of my abilities."

"Clearly this is a promise you can't keep! There's nothing wrong with that, you know—"

"I know you are the prince," Frederick insisted. "I know exactly what he looked like at the age he disappeared, I know what the previous Exalt and queen looked like in their prime, and I will tell you know, I see them both in your face. You have your father's features and your mother's eyes and hair. You are a perfect amalgamation of the two of them and the exact adult image of the prince—"

"How do you know I'm not just a lookalike, huh? According to the council, there are at least fifty-seven other people who look like me!"

"Your name is Chrom. The same as the prince's."

"i could've gotten lucky! Maybe Chrom was a popular name after he was born and my parents decided it was a fine name for me!"

"Why do you continue this childish denial?" Frederick growled. Chrom backed into his desk, the angry knight coming over him. "You insist and insist that this is all one enormous coincidence, but the truth of the matter is that you are the prince!"

"Where is your proof, huh?!" the bluenette threw back. "Where. Is Your. Proof?!"

Frederick snatched the collar of Chrom's shirt and tore it open over his shoulder. Chrom gasped, eyes wide in horror and heart pounding, staring into the knight's own shocked eyes. The older man furrowed his brow. "No… that's not right, where is it?! It couldn't have disappeared—!" He grabbed the opposite side of the collar and ripped the shirt open over the other shoulder. "No, no, no! It can't be! Why is it gone?! Why isn't it…"

The knight's ramblings fell out of the bluenette's awareness as he sucked breath into his tightening chest. His knees trembled and weakened, his vision began to fog. The cozy room in Arena Ferox melted into the hallway of Middlefield's schoolhouse. Vague shapes danced in his periphery, resolving themselves into his classmates from eighth grade. A buzzing started in his ears, clearing into their taunts. "What a pathetic loser!"

"How could he do such a thing?"

"I bet he's a demon or something, his dad probably made a pact with him…"

"He doesn't belong here!"

"Let's take him down!"

Hands scrabbled at his clothes, tearing them into rags. "Look at that! He kinda looks like a dead guy now!"

Stop…

"Why don't you go join your lover in the dirt, you freak!"

No…

"Sarah wants some company~!"

Please…

"She's coming after you, she's angry at you!"

No more…

"Chrom and Sarah, sitting in a tree—except you're dead!"

Stop!

"Milord! Milord, you have to calm down! Oh, gods, I don't know how to deal with this—Milord!"

Someone's arms held him in the person's lap as Frederick's voice cut through his hearing. Someone else screamed in the distance, hands were clutching the front of his shirt—those were his hands, Frederick's chest on his left side—Frederick's arms around him as he kneeled doubled-over in the man's lap—his throat hurt, he was making noise—he was the one screaming. Oh.

Chrom gasped for breath and coughed, shivering. His eyes welled with tears, and he gave a weak sob. Another, and another, and soon he wept, his eyes and throat burning, his heart hurting.

A few minutes went by before his sobs turned to sniffles. All the while, Frederick held him, silent but supportive. Chrom finally gave a shuddery sigh and relaxed. "'m okay now."

"Ah—all right, then. Do you need help getting up?"

The boy nodded, and the knight helped him up, leading him over to sit in the chair next to his desk. Chrom glanced down at his feet, hands clutching at his shoulders where his shirt had been torn.

"Milord—Chrom—I must apologize. Our tempers were high, and I acted rashly in the heat of the moment." The bluenette lifted his gaze up to the man. Frederick regarded him with a soft gaze, vestiges of his alarm from earlier lingering in his eyes. "I must admit, I did not expect such a… violent… disturbing reaction to what I did. It is clear that I triggered a highly adverse response, possibly linked with something you have encountered before?"

Chrom fiddled with his fingers. "… I… I made a big mistake years ago," he rasped out. "I paid restitution to the people who got caught up in it… my classmates were not so understanding. Kell and Anna helped protect me… but they weren't always there… the bullies liked tearing my clothes that my dad had worked so hard to get…"

"I see." Frederick shifted from foot to foot. After a minute, he spoke again. "If you will allow me, I would like to fix your shirt as penance for my actions. I will also fetch you a glass of water if you wish. Do you… perhaps need a shirt to wear while I repair yours? Ah, that is, if you'll let me."

"… That's very kind of you… Frederick…" The boy turned to his satchel laying against his bed. He stood up, trembling, and made his way over, opening it. Pulling his extra shirt out and laying it on the bed, he slipped his ruined tunic over his head. Frederick took it from his hand, and the bluenette put on his other shirt. Then he fell onto the bed, his strength depleted.

Frederick lifted the blanket over him and tucked it in with gentleness. "I'll see about that water, milord," he murmured as he slipped out of the room.

When Grima opened the door, the courier outside handed him a cream envelope with a blue-and-gold marbled seal. "I apologize that this didn't get to you sooner, sir, there was quite a mix-up and miscommunication—"

"Is it from my son?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

Finally! "Oh, thank you!" The albino heaved a sigh of relief. The courier left, and he tore into the envelope, drinking in the words his son had written on the paper.

"Dear Father,

"I apologize for not coming home at the time I said I would. There was an attack on Southtown and I ended up helping a group called the Shepherds beat the bandits back. I met the Princess Lissa, her retainer Frederick, and an amnesiac named Robin, who looks just like you (except he has brown eyes). I'm a bit curious as to the last one; he said he woke up in a field that day with no memory of who he was. The odd thing, now that I think about it, was that he recognized me by name—I think?—he said my name just came to him like his own name did. If not for the fact that he has amnesia, I would've guessed him to be your nearly identical twin. I mean, I would've liked a heads up as to whether I have an uncle or not. I don't know if this is that important, but he has your mark in the same place you do. Maybe he's your son or something? I don't know. I guess I'd just like some answers about him. I will say, however, that he is a great tactician, an acceptable mage, and a good friend. I don't know how I know this (maybe it's because he looks so much like you), but I would trust him with my life.

"Back to the story, when Lissa introduced me to Frederick, he kind of freaked out. He went up to me and asked how old I was, then proceeded to announce that he believed I was the missing prince of Ylisse. I mean, come on, the prince? That's ridiculous! He was very insistent though (still is, unfortunately), and handcuffed me to Robin just to make sure I wouldn't run away. Robin suggested I just go along with it, which was probably wise considering Frederick would probably hunt me down and drag me back to the capital himself if I escaped. We made camp in the forest and had a supper of bear meat; I wouldn't exactly recommend trying it again, but you know our situation. Lissa was not happy about Frederick bringing back a bear for food—she thinks it's messing with the food chain. (I just realized I should mention that Frederick is a cavalier who wields a great axe and Lissa is a swordswoman who wields this beautiful blade named Falchion. According to her it's a one-of-a-kind dragon-killing sword wielded by the Exalted family and was even used by Hero-King Marth!)

"Anyways, we were woken up in the middle of the night by an off feeling. Robin and I followed Lissa into the forest where this strange earthquake set the forest on fire. We made it out safely, but then a portal opened up in the sky! And Risen came out of it! I would've been killed if it hadn't been for this swordsman calling himself 'Marth' rescuing me. Robin fetched Frederick and the rest of our weapons (we'd left our swords behind and grabbed our tomes), and we were joined by two other Shepherds, Virion, a bowfighter, and Sully, a lance cavalier. We used the forts in the nearby area to take cover and fight the Risen off—thank goodness I studied your spellbook before and knew their weaknesses. I now wish I knew how to cut them out from under their summoner's power though. When we meet up again, I—and I can't believe I'm saying this—I want you to teach me all the spells in your spellbook. I might never know when I need them, and it's always good to be prepared.

"We spent the next two days riding to Ylisstol, which is beautiful by the way, and met with the Exalt Emmeryn. She is a very kind woman and I admire her strength in upholding the value of peace when most people… wouldn't. Apparently this is not the first time Frederick has dragged somebody he thinks might be the prince to the capital (I was number fifty-eight, according to the council I was unfortunate enough to attend). However, Lissa wanted us both to be in the Shepherds, so she led us to the group's personal garrison and introduced us to a few members before settling Robin and me in. I saw Lady Maribelle there, you probably remember her (I'm a bit surprised she recognized me though). I also met this pegasus knight, Sumia, who knows Tia! And there was this coarse axe-wielder named Vaike. You'll never guess who else was there: Kellam! He was just as pleasantly surprised to see me as I him. I got to catch up with him a bit tonight at dinner, and he knows this apothecary in the city who needs an assistant. If we really wanted to move to the capital, I could work for the Shepherds and you could get a better salary in the job Kellam told me about. You'll have to let me know what you think when we meet up.

"Frederick came back and asked for volunteers for a mission to Regna Ferox to ask the Khans for help. Then he dragged me off to a meeting with the council to get what information I know about the Risen. Maribelle's dad was there, and he supported me, but the rest of the council was weirdly suspicious of me, especially when I revealed what I knew about the Risen. Frederick announcing to them that he thought I was the missing Prince Chrom really didn't help matters at all. Fortunately Emmeryn's scribe took the info down, but the council was too petty and focused on the wrong things to do anything well. To be fair, I was very stressed at the time, but when I came in they were arguing over what to call the Risen. The ridiculousness! Suffice it to say that I am very glad I'm not the prince. Maybe it's selfish, but maybe it's not—I certainly wouldn't want him to deal with such lousy people (Avignon not included).

"I came back to the barracks and had dinner (Sumia's an amazing cook, by the way, so I've been well-fed), then Robin led me to the dorms. He and I are sharing one; Frederick apparently wanted me in this room he's had reserved for the prince, but Lissa dealt with my paperwork before he could. She also got me stationery and writing tools! I have her to thank for being able to write this letter, really. I realize it's become quite lengthy, but I've kind of been through a lot the past few days.

"Know that at the time of this letter, I am safe and unharmed and among friends. Since Frederick is so insistent on my supposed true status, he'll most likely assign me to the mission to East Ferox. If I'm not here in the capital when you arrive, I'm most likely there or on my way there. I don't know how long the mission will take, but it would be nice to meet up with you there and introduce you to my new friends. I'll be thinking about you and trying to stay out of trouble as best I can.

"All my love,

"Chrom."

Grima smiled as he finished off the letter. His baby was safe for now—well, had been—and Frederick, human as he was, admittedly wouldn't let any harm come to the one he believed to be the prince. Which is hilariously ironic, but of course I can't tell them that. Maybe it's a good sign that Chrom doesn't want to be the prince… for now, anyway. It seems he would have to… entrust the knight to keep his sweet son safe from harm for a little while longer. Unfortunate, and far from ideal. He wondered if the knight had seen the Mark of Grima on the boy's heart yet. If he hasn't, I'll just have to get there before he does. He'd probably hurt Chrom if he saw it, prince or no.

All right, East Ferox. Time to get back on the road again!

And that's a wrap! Next up: Aggressive Negotiations! Grima sets off for Ferox and ends up frustrated once again. Chrom bonds more with the Shepherds and goes with them to parley with Gangrel. War breaks out instead of peace, and Aversa may or may not have noticed the bluenette mage-healer.

Feel free to review or feed me concrit! Wait, Grima, that's not a flame—aaaaaaaaand he's chewing on it. Seriously? The Bolt Tower?

"I do what I want, worm."

You're not Loki, goofball.

"Of course not. I am superior to him."

... I'm not going to question that logic.