I hope Kellam's teasing in the previous chapter didn't rub anyone the wrong way. The important thing was that he knew when to stop and Chrom knew his friend was actively not being malicious. (But please don't tease your friends about their bad experiences. Unless they're trying to cope and ask you to join in with HARMLESS silliness, please just err on the side of caution to be safe.)

This is also the first chapter in this story that's actively fought me. I ended the Ferox chapter raring to go for the assassination—aaaaaaand then I realized I'd forgotten about the border negotiations. Whoops! That's for next chapter. Meanwhile, An Preson Peepul's reviews are the best thing ever. The one on Ch. 4 keeps making me cackle—you're absolutely right on the money, hee hee hee! As for the Ch. 5 one, I've actually thought about that plot point so many times, but it wasn't until last night that I finally figured out a place to put it. Rest assured, it is coming!

(Incidentally, how was your Easter? Go on any egg hunts? My family always do ours indoors anyway, so quarantine didn't affect that.)

"I had fun! Some of my friends came over and we painted eggs, then Daddy hid them all over the woods and we looked for them!"

Aww, I'm glad you had fun, baby Chrom!

"Thank you~! Daddy says he had fun too!"

Don't own, although I'd really really like to, haha!

"Hey, uh, Robin? Why does Lon'qu look like he's glaring daggers at Frederick?"

"Beeeecause he is?"

"Okay, yeah, but why?"

"Oh, that's right, you weren't there for that," Stahl spoke up next to the two mages. Chrom looked at him in confusion. "You didn't come to dinner last night, so you didn't see what happened."

Last night? Oh… yeah, he remembered that. Robin had come up with dinner for the bluenette and ended up staying with him after the… thing… with Frederick. "What happened, then?"

"Well, you didn't show up, so Robbie boy here decided to bring your food up to you in case you were in the middle of reading or something. Right after he left, Frederick came looking really, really dejected, and I mean, really dejected. Like I've never seen on him, and that's counting all those times he found out the guys he thought were the prince weren't." Chrom winced. "He sat down and we asked him what happened. He said he tried to prove you were the prince by showing that you had the Brand of the Exalt on your shoulder. Except the way he went about it—tearing open your shirt?" Now the blue-haired boy shuddered. "Apparently it set off a really bad reaction from you and he had to calm you down."

Robin frowned. "What does that have to do with Lon'qu?"

"Well, he was there hanging out with us. Basilio said the guy kind of unofficially adopted you?" Chrom nodded. "Yeah, well, when Kellam explained why you reacted the way you did—which, I gotta say, bullying sucks—Lon'qu got pissed. Now he doesn't yell, he hisses, and it's literally the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life. He basically threatened to kill Frederick if he ever treated you like that again."

The bluenette glanced up at the front of the convoy, where Frederick rode, and then the back, where Lon'qu and Kellam marched. "Is that why he put himself as far away from Lon'qu as he could?"

"Yep."

"Well, that's… very loyal of Lon'qu." If he's this protective towards me, whom he barely knows, how much luckier is Olivia to have him as her brother? The thought warmed Chrom's heart. I'm glad he's with the Shepherds.

Robin craned his head back towards Chrom. "Did your shirt ever get fixed?"

"Yeah! Frederick did it, he felt really bad about the way he treated me last night." The mage-healer grinned. Frederick had entered his room that morning while the boy was checking his stuff over to ensure he had everything packed. The knight had shifted his feet, hands held behind his back.

"I'm afraid no apology can make up for the damage I caused last night, but at the very least I have mended your shirt as restitution. I hope the work is acceptable; I may have taken some… artistic liberties." So saying, he held out the clean, folded up shirt. Chrom took it and unfolded it, holding it up. The knight had folded back and sewn down the torn edges of the tears, leaving two identical V-shaped cutouts on either shoulder. He had then cut and sewn small holes along the edges of these cutouts, through which he'd threaded silken blue strands. The result—matching laced-up V-shaped cutouts on either shoulder of the shirt—seemed to enhance the shirt and make it more stylish.

Chrom gasped. "Frederick, this… it looks wonderful! I-I-I can't thank you enough!" He hugged the shirt to his chest, tearing up.

"I am glad to see it is satisfactory to you, milor—Chrom. Chrom. My apologies."

"I-It's okay, Frederick, I forgive you." Chrom clutched the shirt close one more time before folding it up and packing it into his satchel.

"I like what he did with it, it looks much more unique than it did before."

"Can I see?"

Chrom rolled his eyes. "Robin, you saw it when I was changing this morning!" The albino cackled. "You're evil, you know that? Pure evil."

"Don't let Freddy know, he'd be onto me even more than he is in an instant."

The bluenette sighed, then laughed. Weird Robin may be, but he was also a good man, and his antics cheered up the younger mage. "I appreciate you messing around with me, Robin, you're fun to be around."

"Seconded," remarked Stahl.

At that point Lissa called for a break, and the Shepherds moved to a grassy plain just off the Northroad. The mage duo dismounted and led their horse to a nearby stream where the other cavaliers set their horses up as well. Rations left packs and everyone spread out on the grass to enjoy lunch. Chrom sat between Robin and Kellam, the latter having taken off some of his armor and laid it beside him. Sully, Stahl, and Lissa chatted with Vaike; Virion told a rousing romantic tale to Sumia and an uninterested Miriel; and off to the side, Frederick swept the path, clearing it of pebbles.

"Hey, you." Kellam nudged his shoulder. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm better now." Chrom took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. "Frederick made up for it, so we're good in my book."

"If you say so. I'm still keeping an eye out for you."

The bluenette laughed. "Thanks." He paused. "Um, Stahl said you explained why I had my panic attack? What did you tell the others, exactly?"

"As little as I could." Kellam took a swig of his water. "Basically said you had a bad experience when we were younger and our peers beat you up for it. Money's always been tight for you and your dad, and they made it worse by vandalizing your stuff. The other guys got the idea pretty quick."

"Oh. Thanks, Kell." Chrom gave him a grateful smile.

"Lon'qu wants to murder Frederick, by the way, since he sees you like a little brother or something now."

"Yes, I know." The blue-haired mage shook his head, chuckling.

The myrmidon himself came up to the group, having scouted the perimeter of the temporary camp, and sat down in front of Chrom with his food. He directed his intense, dark gaze straight into the bluenette's eyes. "You all right?"

"Y-Yeah, I am," the boy stammered. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Good," the Chon'sin man grunted, biting into his rice roll.

"Um, but please don't kill Frederick, okay? Maybe he sort of started it with the whole 'you're the prince of Ylisse' thing, but we were kind of both yelling at each other before he acted and I p-panicked." Chrom waved his hands when the swordsman's eyes darkened. "I asked for proof! Now, maybe he could've gone about it differently, but I just wanted to know why he was so certain."

Lon'qu frowned, thoughtful.

"So please don't kill him, okay? Gods only know he's beating himself up for this. I know he said something about a promise—he's pretty desperate to find the lost prince. He means well, he just didn't do well in this case. He won't do it again, okay?"

"… If you say so." Lon'qu nodded at him. "I'll give him another chance."

"Thank you. That's all I ask for."

He was definitely going to outlaw bandits when he ascended to his rightful godhood and installed Chrom as his High Priest.

Grima glanced down at the remains of the brigand group in disgust. "You know, if your kind didn't keep throwing themselves at me, you'd all be much more successful in the long run. Do you all just have a death wish or something?" No response. "I mean, come on, this is pathetic." Silence. "Aaaaaaand I'm talking to a bunch of corpses. Congratulations, Grima, you've finally cracked."

The Fell Dragon sighed and returned to the forest path where he'd left Eugene tied up. He'd tried a different tactic this time: running away from the bandit squad. Unfortunately, they'd dogged him every step of the way and he'd veered too far off of the Northroad before he finally had enough and wiped them out anyway. Now the sun had almost set and he needed to find shelter and food for both him and the bay. The lights of a nearby town caught his eye, and he urged his steed on towards the settlement.

He arrived in Northshire, according to the welcome sign, right when dusk settled in. Finding an inn took only a minute, and soon he was in a cute little cream-colored room accented with mahogany furnishings, a hot meal of pork hash and greens sitting on the coffee table. As Grima dug in, he took the letter from Chrom out and studied it. It'd been dated several days before he'd received it, and the delaying of the information worried the albino. Yesterday evening he'd felt a tremendous amount of fear and panic from the boy's end of the pact-bond. He'd tried to narrow his little blueberry's location through the surge of emotion, but the overwhelming feelings coming through muddied his perception and he only got a vague sense that the boy was northwest from him. After some time the fear-terror-help-stop had calmed down into shaky-tired-better, leaving the boy's signature too weak to track. Grima glared at the letter as the memory returned.

He was fine. He was fine! What happened?! Who set off one of his panic attacks?!

The dragon wondered if it had been one of the Shepherds. Except Kellam was there with them, and he would know how to avoid Chrom's pressure points. So unless the black-haired boy went and used those against his sweet blueberry, Chrom should've been safe. While realistically Grima knew Kellam would protect his son, it didn't hurt to be over-cautious (after all, Tia had, even though she hadn't meant it, broken the poor boy's heart).

And now he had strayed too far off course. Grima growled, stabbing his food harder than necessary. If it had been one of the Shepherds, Chrom would still be horrified if the albino tried to kill the culprit. Good thing he had a back-up. The Fell Dragon smirked, remembering when he'd taken revenge on the horrible teens who bullied Chrom after the Risen Sarah disaster. A few terrifying nightmares of death, destruction, and his dragon form would do the trick. Already he felt better at the thought!

And if it wasn't a Shepherd, he'd kill them anyway.

I can't wait to see their frightened faces and hear their screams… Oh, Chrom, my sweet blueberry muffin, don't worry. Daddy's coming to make it better!

Ylisstol sent Chrom's heart racing the moment he saw it. Finally, I can leave and find my father! The Shepherds returned to the garrison in high spirits, everyone unpacking and unwinding after the success of a mission accomplished. The bluenette passed a slightly peppier Frederick in the dorm hallway and gave him a kind smile, to which the knight relaxed just a bit. Chrom entered his and Robin's room and set his pack on his bunk while the albino ran around putting his stuff away.

"You know, you never know when you're going to be sent off on a mission. It could be at any moment."

The platinum-head gave him a flat look. "Yeah, and I just got done leading you all through Risen ambushes, a violent misunderstanding at the Longfort, and a Feroxi tournament, I think I'm allowed to relax."

Chrom laughed. "I'm not saying that's a bad thing, just be prepared. I mean, we got roped into one about the moment we came here—"

"Tactician." Robin pointed at himself. "Possibly lost prince." He pointed at Chrom. "It's obvious."

"Well, yeah, but still."

"Somebody's chipper today."

"Hey, can you blame me? I want to see my dad! Come on, let's go ask the guards if he's here yet."

Amused, Robin followed the bluenette out of the garrison and over to the castle where the younger mage inquired about his father. The duo didn't meet with success until they asked the contingent at the front gate. But,

"What?! What do you mean, he left for Ferox?!"

The captain on duty shrugged in apology. "That's what he told us, sir. He said he was on his way to meet up with you there."

"I-I don't understand! When did he get my letter?"

The guards glanced at each other. "I delivered it to him right when I got it a couple of days ago," one volunteered. "The lieutenant who gave it to me said there'd been a big misunderstanding—"

"Only two days?! Oh, gods." Chrom buried his face in his hands in frustration. "I wrote that letter over a week ago, and he's heading to Ferox now? Why didn't we pass him on the road, that would've made it so much easier… ughhhh." He gave a long sigh before looking back up at the guards. "Is there any way we can reach him?"

"Well, you'd have to go back to Ferox for that." The captain hung his head. "Sorry, sir, I know we messed up big time."

"I-It's all right."

"Maybe you could write him another letter and have one of these guys give it to him when he comes back?" Robin offered.

"Robin, the idea is that I won't need to because we'll be in the same place at the same time."

"Still." The albino grinned. "Remember what you said earlier? We could be deployed at any moment~!"

Chrom glared at him. "… I hate you."

"I have a point, though."

"Yeah… you do. All right, then. Captain, in the event that I end up leaving before my father returns, would you please send the message I'll give you to him? Preferably with all haste?"

The captain saluted. "Yes, sir! You can count on us! I will alert the other shifts so they know what to do!"

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

The two mages made their way back to the garrison, where they ran into Miriel. The redheaded mage regarded them both with interest. "Can I perhaps intrigue you in continuing our conversation and experiments regarding your case of apparent retrograde amnesia, Robin, and the magical and scientific development and properties of your tome, Chrom?"

The two looked at each other and shrugged. Hey, might as well, they had nothing better to do.

"Don't say it. Do not say 'I told you so.'"

"Hey, I'm just as annoyed about this as you are," Robin replied. "I mean, Gangrel's a nutcase if he thinks a Shepherd attacked his border without provocation. Isn't that against the Shepherd code of conduct or something? Plus, Maribelle really struck me at the type to be a rule-follower, sooooo…"

Chrom sighed. "This whole thing is ridiculous. Why would he lie about who started it? Is he trying to get a rise out of Ylisse or something?"

The white-haired mage shrugged, clasping his hands behind his head as he walked. "Dunno. I mean, Frederick seems to really not like Plegia, so maybe there's something to it?"

"Ylisse doesn't like Plegia as a rule," the bluenette pointed out, kicking a pebble along the road. "The council I dealt with before Ferox was pretty racist—except for Avignon." Robin gave him a blank look. "Maribelle's dad. He's the duke of Themis," he clarified.

Speaking of Themis, the Shepherds had been sent to the border between the two Archanean countries to mediate and to rescue Maribelle. According to Ylissean intelligence, the dukedom had been attacked by Plegian soldiers and Lady Avignon had been captured while protecting her city. A squadron of pegasus knights came along to protect the Exalt, who had made clear her determination to broker peace. Studying the stiffness in Lissa's shoulders, however, told Chrom this wouldn't end well. He sighed again and adjusted his fingerless gloves, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Before long, the party reached the meeting point. Two figures, one in a horrendous black, white, and yellow costume, the other in a skimpy black getup, leered down from their vantage point upon a short cliff just off the road. The man could only be Gangrel, but Chrom frowned in confusion at the woman. Maybe she was his advisor?

Gangrel sneered down at the Ylisseans. "What is this, my darling? Has the Exalt herself made an appearance here? How blinding her radiance! Bwahahahaha!" He cackled at his own joke. Emmeryn stood firm and ignored his behavior.

"I have come here, your Highness, to uncover the truth of the unfortunate incident that took place. I wish to understand what happened between us."

"Is that so?" simpered the brown-skinned woman. "Well, I can certainly give you the truth. Oh, but pardon me, I must introduce myself. My name is Aversa. I am King Gangrel's right-hand woman."

Guess I was right, then.

Emmeryn nodded at her in acknowledgement. "Miss Aversa, I must ask, is Maribelle unharmed?"

"The little blonde brat?" The king smirked. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Chrom glanced up and beheld the prim Shepherd on a higher cliff with a Plegian soldier, her hands tied. Her face was red, probably from the indignity of being a prisoner. "Unhand me this instant, you lily-livered, lowbrow, dastardly gutter-born troglodyte fodder!" Beside him, Robin covered his mouth, a snort of amusement leaking through. The bluenette shook his head.

The negotiations only deteriorated from there. Aversa claimed that Maribelle had crossed the border without permission and then attacked the Plegian soldiers who escorted her back (Maribelle called her a liar for that). The seductive advisor used the blonde cavalier's outbursts as "proof" of her guilt. Then Gangrel accused her of being an Ylissean spy. Back and forth it went, with Lissa growing more and more frustrated, until the desert king demanded the Fire Emblem as restitution. At this, Chrom frowned, deep in thought. From his schooling he'd learned about the magical shield that had been used to protect the world from threats all the way back to Marth's time. Maybe Plegia had suffered in the past from the Fell Dragon and wanted to share in Ylisse's protection? Perhaps Ylisse could devise an agreement where the two countries would hold custody of the shield with it going back and forth every few years? It seemed to him the best way to avoid a war.

Except then Gangrel announced he wanted every last Ylissean dead. The bluenette facepalmed. Racist much? Guess that's what war does, you grow to hate the opposite side. What did the previous Exalt ever do to you?

… What did the previous Exalt do to you?!

Chrom shivered when he heard the Mad King's accusations. If even half of the things he said were true, the previous Exalt would be as much to blame as Gangrel for this mess. No wonder his son disappeared, I know I wouldn't want a guy like that for my father. Thank goodness I have Dad.

"That's enough, your Graceliness! Consider these negotiations over! I will have the Fire Emblem, and if I have to pry it from your shiny dead hands, so be it!"

"Uh-oh." Robin put a hand on his tome holster, and Chrom copied his motion as three Plegian soldiers advanced on the group. Up in front, Lissa stood guarding Emmeryn, but when one got too close, she cut him down!

"If you want to live, don't come any closer!" she hollered at the dead soldier's fellows.

Gangrel cackled again. "That sounds like a declaration of war to me… a bloody bloodbath that will bleed Ylisse dry! Bwaaaahahahaha!"

The bluenette craned his head as Aversa went over to Maribelle and spoke to her, though he couldn't make out what the two were saying. While the other Shepherds drew their weapons and the Plegian soldiers readied theirs, a sudden gust of Wind sent the bandit guarding the blonde noble flying! Chrom's eyes widened as a young mage ran up to Maribelle and blasted Aversa back before grabbing his fellow Shepherd's hand and running. "Robin! There's a mage kid who rescued Maribelle and needs to get the both of them out! Up on the cliff! Aversa's after them!"

"Ricken's here?!" Lissa yelled. "I told him to stay back and guard the garrison!"

"Well, good thing he didn't listen!" the albino sniped back. "Miriel and Frederick, I need you over there extracting Maribelle and Ricken! The rest of you, advance on the forts in your formations!"

"Wait, Robin!" Chrom rushed after his friend. "Aversa's over there, let me go and get them! I don't know about the others, but I have the most experience with dark magic out of all of us! I know how to counter it effectively, plus Maribelle's given me pointers with a Rescue staff before! Let me extract them!"

Robin gave him a measuring look, then nodded. "Aaron!" he called to the Shepherd's grizzled quartermaster. "Get Chrom a Rescue staff ASAP! Miriel and Frederick, I need you to watch Chrom's back! He's going to get Ricken and Maribelle out! Gods, I hope you know what you're doing, Chrom," he muttered.

"Me too," the bluenette murmured as he switched out his Heal staff for the Rescue.

The mage-healer charged up the hill, slamming Umbra this way and that into the Plegian's ranks. Miriel and Frederick fired and slashed away right behind him. As Chrom reached the cliff, he found Ricken stumbling to a stop near the edge, Maribelle beside him. While the knight and other mage defended the bluenette's back, Chrom reached out with the Rescue and focused his energy on Maribelle, feeding his power into the staff and cycling the ambient magic into his reserves like he'd been taught. A moment later he opened his eyes to find Maribelle standing beside him.

"Ricken's still in trouble!" she cried. The boy lost his footing and tumbled over the edge! Chrom pushed the staff into the troubadour's hands and concentrated, gathering his power and sending a gust of Elwind upward underneath the younger mage. The blast of air slowed his fall, and he landed on his feet in front of the bluenette.

Maribelle glanced at the mage-healer in bewilderment. "You can cast without a tome?!"

"Fight now, logistics later!" Chrom snapped. "Miriel! Frederick! Get these two out of here, I'll cover for you!"

The group chopped and spelled their way back to the Ylissean envoy, but Chrom found himself falling behind trying to protect the other's backs. When he turned back around to join the four, a black pegasus flew down and blocked his path. Its rider, Aversa, smirked at him.

"Lost, little boy?" she mocked. "You know, I remember seeing a picture of the previous Exalt. He looked a lot like you at your age."

"So I've been told. Now get out of my way."

"I don't think so." She took out a dark purple leather-bound tome. "Do you know how much leverage we could hold against Ylisse if we captured you and said we had her missing prince?"

Chrom readied Umbra. "Too bad they already know I'm not him!"

"It won't make a difference! Ruin!"

"Umbra!"

The shadowy Umbra spell locked onto the Ruin one and swallowed it up. Aversa paled. "What?! How do you know dark magic?! Nobody in Ylisse teaches it!"

"That's where you're wrong! My father taught me everything I know about it! He helped me develop my personal tome to the best of our abilities!" The bluenette readied another spell. "Say hello to Umbra, second edition!"

"Wha—argh!" The white-haired woman leapt out of her way as her pegasus caught the full brunt of the blast and slumped to the ground. "Y-You wretched little—how dare you! Nocta is my dearest friend!" She threw another Ruin spell at the boy, but he countered it with Umbra again. "I'll kill you for killing her, you slimy little brat!"

"Someone's not very observant," Chrom muttered as he blew another Ruin apart.

"I heard that!"

"Chrom! You need to get out of there, we're retreating! You're blocked in!" Robin's voice bellowed over the battlefield din. Sure enough, the Plegian witch had driven him up against the same cliff from which he'd Rescued Ricken and Maribelle. Aversa advanced on him, throwing Ruin spells at him as fast as he could, while he batted them back with Umbra. The woman's face held an ugly snarl as she fought.

"I'll kill you, pathetic brat, don't think you can get away!"

Chrom kept up, heart pounding in his ears. I have to get out of here, but the moment I turn my back she'll kill me! Wait, I don't have the Rescue staff, I gave it to Maribelle! W-What do I— In his mind's eye, the diagrams for his father's teleportation spells manifested. But if I try that, there's no telling what'll happen! I could be killed! But it might be my only chance—I have to take the risk! I don't have time for anything else! He forced the pact-bond as wide open as it would go, drawing on Dad's power for support. Calling up a visual of the plains just outside the border pass, Chrom focused all of his power and pulled.

The furious visage of the Plegian advisor fell away as his surroundings darkened and blurred. Pain spiked through his head and nausea swirled in his gut. His heart thudded too quickly in his chest. Then, after an infinite second, the scene resolved around him into the grassy plains, the Ylissean delegation several feet away from him. Robin sped toward him, shouting, but he couldn't make out the words… His tome slipped from his numb fingers… His body lurched… The horizon swayed…

He slipped into darkness before his body hit the ground.

Grima stiffened. For a moment, the pact-bond had opened further than it'd ever had and Chrom had pulled on his power. It snapped shut before he could get a lock on his son. The Fell Dragon gasped and shuddered.

Chrom?! Chrom! Not again!

He roared and threw his teacup into the fire where it smashed into jagged fragments. Then he flipped the coffee table over and stomped on it, cracking it. The nearby inkwell went flying against the wall, shattering and leaving a giant black splatter. A picture frame was torn down and tossed into the mirror, cracking it and the frame's glass. The sheets on the bed got torn into shreds. The dresser was upended. A porcelain figure on the mantle exploded against the headboard. The oil lamp on the nightstand was smashed into the furniture piece.

After several minutes of raging, Grima slumped in the middle of his demolished inn room. He gazed out at the destruction with an empty, aching heart.

My son… My son…

He fell to his knees and bowed his head, bottom lip quivering. A few tears leaked out onto his cheeks and he swiped at them, sniffling.

The door creaked open. "Is everything all—right…" Stifling a sob, the albino looked up into the stunned face of the innkeeper. "What… what happened here?"

Grima scrubbed at his face, wiping away more tears. "I-I just… Don't worry about it." His voice quavered. "I'll r-replace everyth-thing."

"O-Okay…" The plump woman wrung her hands. "Is, um… is there anything I can get for you, sir?"

The dragon gave a watery scoff. "Unless 'anything' includes my missing son, no, not right now."

"Okay, then…"

After the woman left, he sighed and extended his magic. Shards, rags, fragments—all flew through the air in a whirl, piecing themselves back together under the Fell Dragon's power until everything had been restored as if nothing had happened. Grima clutched his aching head. The amount of power he'd had to expend to fix everything… Yeah, I'm not doing that ever again. Slipping off his boots and coat, he stumbled toward the bed and fell face first into a dreamless sleep.

Walking around Everdale, a town in Northwest Ylisse near the Northroad, helped clear the albino's mind a bit after his impromptu nap. The Longfort lay a few hours ahead, and if he got started soon, he might make it there before nightfall. How much longer is he going to be in Ferox? Are the negotiations going well? I hope I'm not too late.

The cool air this far up north felt refreshing on Grima's skin. He closed his eyes and lifted his face up to the sky, drinking the feeling in.

All right, time to head back to the inn and pack up.

But when he turned around, he found a very familiar mop of blue hair only a few feet away in his vision! Grima blinked once, then twice, then, "Chrom!" He ran over to the blue-haired person and swept them up in a hug. "Chrom, you're okay, you're safe! Oh, I've been so worried about you, worried sick, you hear? Sick! They've been feeding you properly, yes?" He cradled the bluenette's head to his chest. "We're not going back to Middlefield, I'm afraid, not if they were able to find you like that—we'll go to Valm, I'm sure you'll love it there! You loved it last time, I know! Just let me know who set off your panic attack and I'll deal with them!"

The young man squeaked unintelligible gibberish. Grima stroked his hair. "It's all right, now, Chrom, you're safe, okay?"

When the youth continued muttering under his breath, the albino frowned and pressed the boy closer to him. "… let go let go let go let go let…" Confused, he clasped the boy's shoulders and looked into his eyes. His blue eyes. His blue unmarked left eye and his blue Branded right eye.

"Wait, you're not Chrom. You're Inigo."

Chrom's son from the future flinched and curled away from him. Grima blinked. "Are you okay?"

Inigo's chest rose and fell in quick little heaves. The boy lifted his timid gaze to meet the older man's red orbs. "… a-are you R-Robin or G-Grima?"

"Robin died the moment I took over—"

"L-Let go…" The teen struggled in his arms. Grima sighed.

"Let me get one thing straight: I'm not going to hurt you. I am looking for your father because he was taken away. If you help me, I will make sure you stay in a safe place." Inigo stopped struggling. "I love Chrom, and you're a part of him. I'll protect you, all right?"

The boy bit his lip and studied his face. Then he glanced down and nodded.

"Excellent. Come with me, I know a place where you can get a good meal into you."

The two returned to the inn and Grima ordered dinner brought up to their room. He waited until Inigo finished his meal before broaching the conversation. "How long have you been here? In this timeline, I mean?"

"Ab-About six months." The shy eighteen-year-old eyed him. "Why are you doing this? Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"What? I told you: because I love Chrom and you're a piece of him."

"If you loved him, then why did you kill him?"

What?

The memory of the moment he took over Robin's body for the first time flashed in his mind. They'd just defeated Validar and Chrom had helped Robin up when the Fell Dragon received control of the mage's body. He'd conjured up a spear of lightning and-and he'd—he'd—No… no, no, no, no, no, I-I did that?! I hurt him, my… my son?! His imagination replaced the image of the other Chrom with his Chrom. No… I didn't—!

I did… I did, and it's all my fault!

Grima wailed in despair, his face buried in his hands and tear streaks running down his face. He sobbed, anguish and regret and guilt rolling over in waves until he felt like he might drown. That Chrom hadn't been his Chrom… except it had. The boy's character hadn't changed—he'd just grown to care for him. Oh, Chrom… Oh, Chrom… Oh, my son… I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I failed you, my sweet blueberry, I failed you…

"R-Robin?"

Inigo's voice broke through the albino's moping. He sighed. "Not Robin." Scrubbing at his tearstained face, he sniffled and regarded the boy. "You're right, I… I did k-kill him. Oh, gods…"

"Um… if-if it's any consolation, that was the other timeline." The little bluenette offered a handkerchief to Grima, who took it and cleaned up his face. "He hasn't died yet… has he?"

The man snorted. "Of course he hasn't, I've been keeping him alive. Gods only know how he made it through the first timeline," he muttered.

"When you say 'keeping him alive'—"

"I haven't hurt him." Grima looked him in the eye. "I have never, and I swear this upon my very soul, I have never allowed harm to come to Chrom Lowell by my hand." His eyes hardened. "And anyone whom I could not protect him from, I paid back their transgression tenfold. I have slaughtered countless bandit groups all because they harmed a hair on his head. That is why I am looking for him: he went missing and I am going to get him back."

"I-I don't understand," the boy stammered. "If you really are Grima, then why do you care so much about him?"

"Because I've spent the last fifteen years raising him as my own son, why else?"

"Fifteen years?!" Inigo shrieked. "Why haven't you destroyed the world yet?!"

"… I was busy raising your father as a single parent? I, who had never even gotten near a small child before then?"

"B-But why—he would've been four—why didn't you kill him?!"

"I…" Grima frowned, thinking back to that fateful day. "Well, I mean, like I said, I'd never gotten to see a small child before. I think at first I was too shocked to do anything about it… although I did think he was extremely cute. You know, I'm not sure why I didn't kill him immediately, I guess it just felt too wrong even for me. I do have standards, you know." A fond smile crept onto his face. "He was quite sweet at that age… and terribly selfless even then."

Inigo gaped at him for several seconds. "… Can you just start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened?"

How the boy hadn't fainted by the time the dragon had finished his tale, Grima honestly did not know, but the little bluenette looked about to keel over, blanched white, eyes filled with horror, tiny shivers running through his slender body. The boy stared openmouthed at the albino, petrified terror filling his scent. Grima sighed and, making slow movements so as not to startle the child, slipped out of his seat and lifted the boy into his arms. He cradled the teen close and murmured soothing sounds that had always helped Chrom calm down from a panic attack or nightmare, gently rocking him back and forth. Eventually the boy relaxed in his arms and curled up closer to him.

"Better?"

"The Fell Dragon is my adoptive grandfather." Inigo gave a hysteric giggle. "I am very much not better."

"Inigo. How many times—I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to protect you. And before you ask 'why when last time we were on opposite sides,' it's because—"

"I'm my dad's son," he finished, "and you love my dad as if he were your own son."

"Yeah."

Inigo breathed a shuddery sigh. "I-I'm… I'm going to need some time to process all this…"

"Of course. Take your time. In the meantime, will you travel with me? I've been saying Robin's my twin whenever people ask me about my relation to him, so you could do the same thing with your dad. I mean, you're only a year younger than him and I'm sure if we explained things a certain way he'd be happy to cover for you."

"Um… okay. I s-suppose that could work. Where are you heading next?"

"Ferox, I was hoping to get to the Longfort tonight, but clearly that's not going to happen," the albino snarked. "We'll stay the night tonight and then head there tomorrow morning."

"Okay. That sounds good." The boy glanced up at him, then down at his arms. "Um, you can put me down now, I'm okay."

Grima set him down on his feet… and then glomped on him again. "Mini blueberry!"

"Kyah!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

Most people were afraid of the dark. But when your dad literally was the dark, as he'd stated about himself before, you didn't have anything to be afraid of. Or at least, Chrom didn't. The dark meant warmth, protection, safety. He'd glimpsed his father's dragon form in the dark, enormous black feathers sweeping around him like a fatherly embrace. He enjoyed the sensation of just… being in the void, floating along without a care in the world.

There was… soft cloth underneath his fingers. A fluffy cushion holding up his body. The scent of clean linen. Warmth on his face. Low voices drifting nearby. A pillow under his head. A pain in his head. A churning in his gut. A sour, herbal taste in his mouth. Light on the other side of his eyelids.

Chrom opened his eyes and beheld the whitewashed ceiling above him. Nearby, the voices grew louder, more urgent. Cloth rustled and footsteps sounded as they drew closer. A blob of light gold filled his vision.

"You're awake! Finally. I thought you'd be comatose for at least a week considering the extreme mana exhaustion you put yourself through!"

"… Maribelle?" the teen rasped. He coughed, and someone eased him up into a sitting position, putting a cup to his lips. He sipped the cool water inside as the troubadour continued her tirade.

"Near-complete mana depletion, do you hear me? Do you have any idea how serious that is? You could have permanently burned out your mana supply, which would mean you'd never be able to wield magic again! Do you know what you did? You attempted a self-Rescue, which is not something the staff is meant for in the first place, but without the actual staff! How you didn't accidentally splice or kill yourself, I haven't a clue. Thank Naga your mana regeneration is a bit above average, it's the only thing keeping you tethered to your magic right now!"

"Yeesh, Maribelle, go easy on the guy, he literally felt he had no other option at that point."

"R-Robin?" Chrom's voice steadied after he finished the water. The albino glanced down at him, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

"Although if you had waited long enough, I could've gotten a few of the Shepherds to get Aversa off your back."

The bluenette winced. "Sorry. You told me to get out and I followed orders."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have gotten to the point of utterly and completely exhausting yourself."

Chrom sighed. "If Dad finds out, I'll never hear the end of this, I've never suffered burnout this bad since I was seven."

"What were you doing at age seven?"

"Trying to learn my first Wind spell."

"You were seven?!" Maribelle gaped. "No one ever starts learning magic that young! When did you learn how to use a Heal staff?"

"… When I was four?"

"What?!"

Chrom coughed, giving them a weak grin. "Hey, I thought it was cool and I wanted to help people. Dad was all for it. He taught me how to use my power to the best of his abilities. In fact, it was his teleportation spell I tried pulling off to escape—although I wish he'd help me learn how to do it beforehand. And all the other spells in his spellbook."

"Y-Y-You performed a teleportation spell in the middle of a battlefield without ever having tried it before?!" Maribelle's left eye twitched. "How are you even alive?!"

"Well, like you said, it's all thanks to my 'mana regeneration,' as you called it—"

"That's the official terminology—!"

"Because Dad made absolutely sure I had good replenishing techniques and could do them without having to concentrate in preparation for casting without a tome."

"You can cast without a tome!" Maribelle shrieked. "That's the other thing, what on Naga's green earth did you think you were doing?!"

Chrom shrugged. "It was just Elwind."

"'It's just Elwind,' he says!" The blonde noblewoman threw her hands up in the air. "What is wrong with you?! You don't cast without a tome unless you have years upon years of practice casting with tomes beforehand! The youngest human to cast without a tome was recorded to have been forty years old! You're only nineteen!"

The bluenette held his finger up. "I was fourteen when I first completed Umbra."

"Fourteen—!" Maribelle's mouth opened and closed, her face bright red and eyes wide.

Robin cackled. "Chrom, you're a genius. You only have to say the truth about your magic to send Maribelle into a conniption fit."

Chrom gave him a flat look. "I have no idea how you're supposed to learn magic, I was under the impression my education was fairly standard—if a bit more vigorous, considering my subpar talent."

"Subpar—!"

"W-Well, I have to study harder to make up for the fact that I'm not as much of a natural at magic as the other mages!" the bluenette said, confused.

"Not a nat—who told you that?! I'm going to box them over their ears!" Maribelle got up and swept out of the infirmary. Then she whirled back in. "You're on bed rest for one week while you recover! Low-grade magic spells for two weeks after that!"

Chrom blinked. "So El-level spells, then?"

The blonde squawked in outrage before fleeing again.

Robin quirked an eyebrow at his younger friend. "You know, being an amnesiac and all, I'm not an authority on what the typical magical curriculum looks like, but I'm fairly certain yours was meant for genius-level mages."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

He'd fled. He hadn't used Warp Powder. Who was this child?!

Aversa growled while she brushed Nocta's mane. To her tremendous shock and relief, the pegasus had survived that Umbra spell with no apparent harm whatsoever except some exhaustion. The witch couldn't fathom it. Who would use dark magic to make such a harmless spell?! Apparently this Plegian-raised Ylissean boy, of all people! Who was his father?! Aversa very much wanted to introduce him to Goetia!

The woman snarled. Surely he had to be that missing prince. Plegia would gain the most wonderful bargaining chip with him in their hands. Her snarl turned into a sly grin. Father was going to carry out the mission to assassinate the Exalt soon on their lord Grima's orders… surely then would be the perfect time to snatch him. A pity she had her own mission with Gangrel ongoing. Ah, well, that didn't stop her from… visiting the boy every once in a while.

I'd like to learn more about this "father" of yours, little blue brat. He could prove quite a useful addition to our ranks, heheheh…

And that's a wrap! Next up: Stab O'Clock PM! Grima races back to the capital with another Lowell blueberry in tow. Chrom helps thwart Emmeryn's assassination and meets someone else from his childhood. Validar wants to know why a blue-haired Ylissean is practicing Plegian dark magic of all things.

Feel free to review or feed me concrit! Anything to let me know I'm brightening your guys' day!

"Miss Vio, you said there's an Easter big me? In the Heroes game?"

You're thinking about the Spring Chrom alternate unit in Fire Emblem Heroes, aren't you.

"Yeah. Maybe Daddy could have an Easter him, too? Or Emm and Liss?"

I mean, Duo Units are a thing, and I've been pushing for a young Duo with you and Emmeryn over on Discord. I also think Spring Robin is well overdue (but that depends on whether IS will actually listen or not).