Yeah! Chapter 12! I am very excited to be finally getting into the Plegia campaign, very excited! I have some pretty fun things planned for this chapter, I have to say. Last chapter kind of stalled out on me—I went and watched the cutscenes for the regrouping at Ferox and thought, "Wait, that's it? They're off to save Nowi and Gregor already? But-but-but—what about bonding time?!" So I had to make up some new stuff—though I think that's actually where my writing shines the most, when I do original scenes and whatnot. I particularly liked the Shepherds, Chrom, and Grima hanging out in the mess hall and just goofing around, it really fed my soul and makes me giggle at their antics. Also, Freddy got comeuppance! Sorry, Freddy, but you're going to be in for a few sleepless nights!

"Miss Vio? Daddy keeps saying how he's gonna get a baby Marth unit when he comes out... do you know what he's talking about?"

He's talking about the young Marth unit that's going to be out for Fire Emblem's 30th anniversary tomorrow in Fire Emblem Heroes! Aaaaahh, I'm so excited myself!

"So Fire Emblem is gonna be thirty years old? Wow, that's old!"

I mean, for a successful game franchise, that's pretty darn good! And we all have Marth to thank for starting it off!

"Thank you, Marth!"

Don't own, yada yada blah blah, baby Chrom! :D

It was dark, and cold, and dry inside the cell. It stunk, too, of unwashed bodies and filth. Inigo sat curled up in the furthest corner, head on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, went the saying. Why did his life seem to be a succession of hotter and hotter frying pans? Was this the fire, or was there still worse to come? Oh gods, nothing could be worse than this! He'd survived the vengeance of the Fell Dragon only to be executed before he was even born. Oh, he didn't want to die, not before he saw his sister again! Was Lucina even all right? The frightening image of Robin leaping, angry and fanged and six eyes glowing red, behind his sister just as the bluenette boy fell out of the portal had been enough to set off one of his panic attacks. He'd fallen to the ground, shaking and gasping, in the middle of Northwestern Ylisse, all alone with no backup. It had taken what felt like hours to calm down from the overwhelming panic that had overtaken him.

Robin… it was Robin… Father and Robin had gone in to kill Validar, and only Robin had come out.

The sheer heartbreak and sorrow in the albino's brown eyes had made them all believe Robin had tried to save the Exalt from death and failed. But Robin pouncing after Lucina in the portal like that made Inigo think. The six eyes… Grima's symbol… on Robin… the dark power emanating from the man that was so unlike his own… no, it couldn't be! But it made entirely too much sense. Somehow, Grima's spirit could enter into Robin's body and control him.

Father had gone in with Robin, and Grima had surfaced and killed him.

He'd felt sick then. His uncle, the man that Father had viewed as a brother, and Grima had used him to kill Father. What kind of sick, twisted humor was that? He'd laid on the ground for a while, unwilling to get up and continue with his life. He had no idea where he was in the past (it was supposed to be around the time that Aunt Emm was assassinated, but he couldn't be sure), and none of the Future Shepherds had appeared with him. Eventually, when it began to grow dark, he'd gotten up and dragged himself to the nearest town, which happened to be a cute little place called Everdale, not that he'd cared. He'd gone and gotten himself a room at the inn and fallen asleep, miserable and lonely.

The next day he'd woken up to realize that he was in the past—Grima hadn't been resurrected yet. He was free! Or was he? Was Lucina alive, had she survived? He didn't know, and he was too tired to care. The nightmare that had been his life the past few years had melted away, and he needed to rest and recover as best he could. So he'd taken odd jobs around the town, working as a freelancer. After six months had passed, he'd saved enough to get a horse and ride to Ylisstol. He'd even started flirting with the occasional girl again to work more on his shyness.

Then he'd been walking along one evening, and someone had glomped on him and started saying bizarre things like they'd been worried about him and they wouldn't be going back to Middlefield—wherever that was—and instead they'd go to Valm. But the thing that had caught his attention was that the stranger had called him by his father's name. Which was understandable, he looked quite a lot like his father, but why was this random person so happy to see him? Or, more accurately, Chrom? He'd freaked out, and the person (a man) had started stroking his hair. So he'd panicked more. After a couple minutes, the man had let go of him and turned to face him—

And Inigo met red eyes where there should've been brown.

Grima's story had been fantastical, unbelievable. Until the bluenette teen saw his father in the flesh, he had no reason to take the dragon vessel's words at face value. His father was likely already dead, and he and his sister would probably never be born. Though why Grima continued to lavish… affection… on him was inexplicable. He'd wondered if Robin was fighting through Grima's hold on his body, but the tactician had never in his life called the young prince "mini blueberry." Inigo couldn't help but be reminded of the villainess in The Lost Princess of Corona: all overly loving and cutesy names, a façade hiding the selfish, greedy nature underneath. And if Grima's story had even a shred of truth, his poor unsuspecting father had been thrust into the princess's role, believing the Fell Dragon had only the best for him at heart. It sickened the time-displaced boy. If his father wasn't dead, then he'd probably become something worse, a monster of Grima's making.

Although… that story Grima had told him the night before his capture had drawn his curiosity. Was the dragon the way he was because of the way he'd been treated? Or, that is, mistreated? He wondered if the albino vessel had ever told his father such a tale, he seemed to have practice with the art of storytelling.

Unfortunately, Inigo couldn't find out the truth locked up in this Plegian cell. At least Aunt Emmeryn was alive and unhurt. That had to count for something, right?

"Robin! Psst, Robin! I figured something else about me last night!"

"What's that?" the tactician asked as the Shepherds and Feroxi made their way south towards the Border Sands. They hadn't yet reached the Longfort in that area, but they were drawing close.

Chrom grinned. "Okay, so you know how I realized Marth is my older sister? Well, I was thinking, and I hit upon the fact that I look so much like Prince Chrom. I even have the same name, but obviously I'm not him! So then I figured this out: I'm his son from the future! I'm Prince Chrom Lowell the Second!"

Robin's eyes went wide. "Chrom, that's… you know, that makes a lot of sense actually. You were really young, maybe you hit your head when you fell out of the portal and it wiped your memory."

"But I don't recall being injured when Dad found me."

"That's just it! You don't remember! Or maybe someone found you and cared for you first, but you ran away and then forgot."

"Ooh, that's a very good point."

After several minutes, the Khans called for a lunch break for everyone. The Longfort stood clear and tall in the distance, and on the other side of it swirled golden sand. Chrom dismounted from his horse and helped Olivia down. Robin got down from behind Sumia and dusted his coat off. All around them, the Shepherds took out rations and settled themselves down to eat. Dad came over from scouting ahead and sat on the other side of Chrom, fishing his own lunch out of one of his coat pockets.

"I'm curious, what's your relationship to me, Raven?" Robin asked as he munched on a piece of jerky. "We look like almost identical twins… although I'm human and you're… not. From what Chrom tells me, anyway."

Dad tossed him a curious look, and Chrom shrugged. "I trusted Kell and Tia with the info, I figured Robin and a couple others who can keep secrets deserved to know."

"Is everyone going to find out I'm a dragon by the time this whole mess is over with?" the older albino muttered. "To answer your question, Robin… it's complicated." He frowned in thought. "I did make a blood pact with someone over two millennia ago, so maybe it's a side effect of that? Or the other one I did afterwards."

"Oh. Huh." Robin tilted his head in contemplation. "Cool."

Chrom looked out over the temporary camp. Virion was flirting (unsuccessfully) with Panne, who looked equal parts amused and annoyed; Kellam and Sully sat near the bluenette, chattering over their food; Cordelia had drifted over to Stahl and complemented him on his cooking (he'd helped make the rations); Maribelle was giving out etiquette pointers to Donnel, who took notes as fast as he could; and Lissa and Vaike had engaged in a game of playful shoving, giggling like idiots. In front of him, Robin grinned. "Isn't it wonderful? Love is in the air!"

"Robin, some of these people just met, what are you talking about?"

The tactician smirked. "Oh, you know… fighting on the battlefield is the quickest way to strengthen one's bonds… and constantly fighting alongside the same person… is going to foster feelings."

"Robbie dear, real life isn't like a fairy tale where you can pair people up and expect them to fall in love," Sumia commented.

"Ah, but Mia, my darling, having one's back on the battlefield is bound to grow trust. And trust, we know, is the foundation of any relationship."

Olivia giggled from Chrom's left. She leaned over and murmured, "Robin's very enthusiastic about this, isn't he."

"He's in love with a romantic, and Kell says he's the Shepherds' resident shipper, of course he's enthusiastic about this," Chrom pointed out.

Dad looked at them, then glanced over to Frederick, who for the first time since Chrom met him had bags under his eyes. "What about Frederick? Have you paired him up with anyone yet? I think Miriel might be an interesting choice for him."

"Noooooo, no no no no no! He's given his heart to Emmeryn already!" Robin exclaimed. "Why, we found out when we first went to Ferox that she calls him 'Freddy Bear!' In private! Plus Miriel's sort of married to her work, I doubt she'd be interested. So please, good sir, do not attempt to sink the fair ship Fremmeryn."

Dad blinked, looking nonplussed. "… Okay then." He muttered something that sounded like "I had no idea he liked her" under his breath.

Robin gazed at the older albino, deep in thought. "Hey, what about you, Raven? Have you ever been in love before? Do you have your heart set on one of the amazing ladies here?"

"Huh?" Dad looked confused. "Um, I've never actually thought about romance in relation to myself. I mean, I have loved someone before, just not romantically." He shrugged. "I just… never really thought about it. Besides, I've been busy raising Chrom for the past fifteen years, I doubt I'd be a good candidate." He looked over at the bluenette. "Plus, if I ever did fall in love with someone, Chrom would have to approve. We're talking about his potential mother figure here!"

"Oh, Dad!" Chrom laughed. "I'm sure whoever you fall in love with will be good enough for me as well!"

Dad sniffled. "My baby… you grew up far too fast…"

"Human. We do that compared to dragons," the bluenette mage reminded him.

"I know, but still… I miss when you were four. You were the cutest little thing I'd ever seen…"

"Awww!" Sumia cooed. "You must've been downright adorable, Chrom!"

"He was. I have proof." Dad reached into his left breast pocket and took out the picture he'd taken of Chrom with his magic all those years ago. He handed the slip of inked-on paper to the ashette, who squealed in delight over the image of the then four-year-old.

From behind him, Kellam spoke up. "Is he busting out the baby pictures again?"

"Yep." The mage-healer chuckled and shook his head.

Sully frowned and wiped her hand on her pants. "Here, lemme see," she asked to Sumia, who showed the picture to her. "Huh. You're right. And here I thought Raven was being the usual biased parent." She handed the picture back to the pegasus knight. "Never seen a guy that gaga over his kid, usually it's the moms."

Dad shrugged. "I raised him by myself, I have every right to fawn over him."

"Da—ad."

"What? It's the truth!"

"You know, I have no idea how we got this far without getting caught, but it's weirding me out," Chrom murmured to Robin as they traversed the Border Sands. "There haven't been any of the Plegian guard around. Where are they at?"

"Occasus, maybe? If Gangrel wants to trap us, I'd pin my guess on the capital," Robin answered. "He's sure taking his sweet time, though."

Up ahead, Frederick rode towards them on the way back from his scouting. The bluenette wondered again at the bags under his eyes. Had he not gotten enough sleep last night? Strange… The knight rode over to Lissa and reported, "Milady, there seems to be some sort of engagement about downfield. I'd watch your step and see if we can avoid it."

"Let's get moving, then, we don't want to be caught in whatever's going on," she replied. The group picked up the pace, though the sandy plain proved difficult for the less sure-footed members of the crew. Sumia had opted to stay on Bellemere and had covered her head and face with a scarf. Robin, Chrom, and Dad had pulled the hoods of their enchanted coats up, and Olivia had put on her own cloak, which Dad had bespelled for her during the lunch break. The other Shepherds wore head- and face-scarves, light cloaks, and other light, skin-covering articles. Except for Vaike, who'd taken his metal collar off. Panne seemed irritated with the boots and cloak she'd been provided, shaking out her feet every so often. The bluenette couldn't help but feel bad at all the sand that she'd have to clean out of her fur after they got out of the desert.

In the near distance, the massive bones of some long-dead creature rose out of the dunes. Next to him, Dad shuddered. They must've been dragon bones… The thought hurt Chrom's heart, but before he could think on it longer, he caught sight of a small figure fleeing from just around the skeleton. She ran towards them and paused to catch her breath, hands on her knees. She glanced behind her before taking off again. "GET AWAY FROM ME! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Another figure, that of an older man, rounded the skeleton, running after her. "Why is little lady not understanding?! Gregor only trying to help!"

"GYAH! GO AWAY!"

"Please be keeping with the voice down!" the man hissed after her. "You giving away position! Very bad! Gregor not wanting to be experiment!"

"Noooooo! Stop trying to kill meeeee!"

"Gregor trying to keep little lady from bad men! Good grieving…"

Lissa ran out in front of the company towards the two with Falchion drawn. "Hey, you! Big creeper! Leave her alone!"

The man, probably Gregor, stumbled to a stop. "Who creeper? Gregor? No, no! Gregor friend! You be having wrong idea!" He sighed. "Today is being unlucky day full of insults and punches to groin. And for doing good deed! Gregor just want a drink!"

Dad sniffed, and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, several armed figures swarmed the dunes in front of the Shepherds, led by an old robed man with a cap decorated by an eye. The man saw the runaways and sneered. "There you are, you slippery scamp! Time to get a dose of Grima's wrath!"

Chrom missed Gregor's worried shout, because Dad's eyes glowed bright red, and his eyeteeth sharpened into fangs. His nails lengthened into claws, and he snarled in anger, trembling.

"Dad?"

"How dare they," the older albino hissed. "How dare…"

The Shepherds moved to intercept the girl, but one of the Plegian soldiers ran towards her and Gregor. She cried out and lifted something sparkly in the air. A massive flower appeared and closed around her before exploding into light and water. In the girl's place flew a large green-and-yellow dragon, her leafy wings beating the air. Chrom gasped as she spat out a ball of water at the soldier and knocked him over, allowing Gregor to finish him off. She giggled and flipped. "Wow, that was fun! I feel kinda better now!"

"She's a dragon, too!" Robin cried. "A real, live manakete… incredible! Come on, let's help her deal with these guys!"

Chrom drew his sword as Robin began giving out orders. Gaius, Lon'qu, and Miriel took off for the little settlements on the edges of the area to warn them while the others paired up and began charging at the enemy. The bluenette stuck by Olivia as she parried behind his back; he blasted spells left and right, fending off the attackers. Nearby, Robin had gotten back on Bellemere and took to the skies with Sumia, raining down thunderbolts and fireballs. To his left, Lissa and Vaike slashed and chopped in a whirl of fury through their foes. And Dad… he went all out, deadly purple spikes flying everywhere and impaling their opponents.

Several soldiers ganged up on the princess and axe-fighter duo, and Lissa slipped on the sand, falling over the other side of the dune, Falchion flying as she went. The mage-healer gasped. "Olivia, quick! Vaike and Lissa need our help! Come on!"

"Right!" The pinkette followed him and took a place behind Vaike's back, defending against the onslaught. Chrom ran for the divine blade and sheathed his as he snagged the longsword out of the sand.

Gods above and below, this thing is heavy! How in the world can such a tiny woman wield such a thing?! He squawked and rolled underneath a rogue axeman's swing, getting up and slicing across the man's chest. Falchion cleaved through flesh, bone, wood, and metal in a single swipe. The blue-haired teen gasped at the sheer power the sword emanated and the hum resonating deep within his bones in response. W-What is this?! This sword is incredible! He held the hilt with both hands and charged, stabbing and parrying through the mess of foes that ran between him and the princess. He reached the top of the dune and slid down the gritty slope to where the blonde swordswoman had rolled. "Lissa! Catch!" He hurled the sword at her, and she leapt up, caught it, and decapitated the nearby dark mage with a swipe.

"Thank you!" she called out.

Vaike and Olivia crested the dune, and Chrom grabbed the dancer's hand, leading her towards the rest of the enemy force. "Are you all right?"

"Not a scratch! Though I've got sand everywhere," she lamented.

As the two fought their way towards the opposite end of the Border Sands, the mage caught a glimpse of his father making a beeline towards the capped man. A dark, flaming area surrounded Dad, and two black feathery wings extended from his back.

Oh, dear. He looks livid. What is he going to do?

Either the pathetic Grimleal mage didn't know what danger he was about to be in, or he didn't think the danger was that great, because he yelled, "How dare you defy Grima! You think you can stand against the god of annihilation?!" as the albino dragon-mage stalked towards him.

"What. Were. You. Going. To. Do to her?!" Grima roared.

The man cackled. "She is to be offered as a sacrifice to our great lord! Her life force will be given to him!"

"Grima," the albino growled, "is a dragon himself! What makes you think he would condone such a disgusting act?!"

"And who are you to say what our lord wants?!"

The Fell Dragon swatted the man's tome out of his hands and seized the front of his robes, yanking the mortal towards him. He bent down next to the Grimleal's ear and hissed, voice low and dark and deadly.

"I am Grima… and you are not worthy of serving me!"

With this, he punched his hand clean through the mage's chest. The man's face went white with horror and realization as blood spurted out of his mouth. He choked and gasped out, "M-My… lord…" before Grima reached over and ripped his head off, summoning an Expiration spike and impaling the dead cranium with it. He stomped on the body's foot and tore his hand out of the corpse's chest cavity, flicking off gore as the body crumpled to the ground.

"D-Dad?"

The dragon whipped around and found Chrom standing a few feet away with the pink-haired dancer, his face pallid and his hand clutching his chest. For a wild moment, Grima thought he'd accidentally revealed his true identity, but a second later the boy asked, "W-Was he really that bad?"

Tired, the albino slumped a bit. "He was going to sacrifice her." The rage in his veins reignited. "He was going to sacrifice a dragon, to a dragon god! How dare he even think of such a despicable act! The Grimleal should've had him excommunicated and and executed for treason against his own!"

The other Shepherds glanced at each other. Then one by one, they came forward, faces hard with fury, and stabbed their weapons through every part of the dead man's body. Lissa was the last one, plunging Falchion through the corpse's heart, before Miriel summoned a fireball and tossed it onto the corpse. The flames consumed the body, leaving nothing but ashes. Chrom stepped forward, sapphire eyes cold, and sent a huge gust of Arcwind at the remains of the Grimleal, blowing them far away into the desert beyond. Then the group turned and went back to the dragon girl and the mercenary, Gregor.

Ricken had put his hands on the girl's shaking shoulders and was rubbing them as they returned. The green-haired girl gave a sob. "Ugh! Worst. Day. Ever!"

"I-I'm so sorry, miss," the little mage offered in sympathy. "I can't imagine what you must've been through…"

"Please do not make with the crying of tears," Gregor added. "The evil people are dead people! This is good, no? Please be cheering up, wee one!"

The manakete sniffled. "Aww, th-thanks, you guys!" She laughed. "I'm sorry about earlier and what I did to you," she addressed the red-haired mercenary. "I-I just get nervous with people who aren't my age, you know?"

"Your age?" Gregor guffawed. "Gregor closer to your age than others here! Ha!"

"Except for Raven," Robin pointed out. Grima gave him a raised eyebrow, but the girl's eyes went wide at the sight of the red-eyed albino, and she gasped.

"HIIIIIII!" She ran over to the older dragon and glomped on him. "Dragon! Dragon! Dragon! We can be dragon buddies! How old are you? What's your dragonstone look like? Do you know any famous people? Why haven't I seen you before? What's your name? You must be super cool!"

Grima stammered as the girl continued yammering on rapid-fire questions. He glanced up at the other Shepherds and found a few, like Gaius, Sumia, Cordelia, and Kellam, snickering into their hands. Olivia stood chuckling next to Chrom, and Lon'qu had a soft expression on his face. Everyone else looked lost, shocked, or mind-blown. Well, his species was definitely out now. He looked back down at the manakete and patted her head. "Please, slow down. I can't answer all of your questions at once, young one."

"Young?!" She disengaged from him and gave him a pout. "I'll have you know I'm over a thousand years old!"

"And I'm over three thousand, I think I have you very much beat in the elder department."

She slumped. "Aww, okay."

Grima chuckled. "It's all right, little leaf, I'm actually very happy to see another dragon around." That brightened her up. "I'm Raven, and this little blueberry here is my human foster son, Chrom." He gestured to the bluenette, who waved to the manakete. She waved back, a huge grin on her face.

"He's adorable! I like him already~!" she decided. "I'm Nowi, by the way! Pleased to meet you~!"

Ohhhhhh, so this was Nowi. He'd heard about the manakete before, but she'd died before his resurrection. Well, now that he was here, he'd make sure she'd live a long and full life. After all, Nah, her daughter, was also a dragon, and he preferred to have more of his kind in the world. Besides, she approved of Chrom, and that made her automatically good in the Fell Dragon's book.

Lissa came over from speaking with Gregor. "Okay, guys, Gregor is going to be joining us. I just hired him, and he says he's an excellent sell sword—former employers notwithstanding."

"But what about me?!" Nowi cried. "I won't go back to the auction block again!"

Chrom gasped. "Y-You were sold? As a slave?!"

"Yeah, to horrible, despicable men, the worst kind." Her shoulders drooped. "They forced me to transform for them… made me do tricks… just treated me like an animal in general. I'm not going back to them!"

"Of course you aren't," Lissa decided. "I think it's obvious, but you should stay with us! Although, we are kind of in the middle of a mission… but still!"

"Really?!"

Grima nodded. "Of course. We dragonkin need to stick together. It's only fair you should come with us."

Nowi gasped, then jumped up. "Yay! Oh, thank you thank you thank you!" She hugged the albino dragon, then a chuckling Chrom, then Lissa. "Don't worry about me, I can take good care of myself, you guys! I'll help watch out for you!"

As the group moved back out, Frederick shook his head. "What would the Grimleal want with a manakete? We'll have to take measures to be careful that she and Raven don't fall into their clutches."

Grima's eye twitched in offense. I can take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you very much! But before he could voice this, Robin spoke up. "Um, sorry, I feel like this is maybe a question with an obvious answer, but, um… who are the Grimleal, exactly? I think I've heard that term thrown around a couple times now."

"They're loyal followers of the Fell Dragon, Grima," the brunette knight answered. "He's the very dragon the First Exalt defeated a thousand years ago before the Great Schism." He sighed. "Even nowadays there are those who hope and prepare for the fiend's return."

Chrom tilted his head in confusion. "What did Grima do, though, exactly? That we'd need to defend against him in the first place?"

The dragon wrapped his arm around the bluenette's shoulders as Frederick continued. "Well, he tried to destroy the world. I think that would be concern enough, wouldn't it?"

"But why?" The boy frowned. "What happened to him that he felt that was necessary?"

Oh, bless his darling son's sweet, sweet heart. Oh, he'd definitely raised him well. Maybe it was all those bedtime stories he used to tell the boy, all of them true and from his own past. Grima's heart swelled with pride for his empathetic little blueberry. Maybe when he revealed his true identity, Chrom would be sympathetic. Oh, he'd make the most wonderful High Priest!

Frederick's response was unfortunately lacking. "No one knows. It hardly matters anyway, seeing as he is dead."

Grima bit back laughter at the irony of the situation. Now he knew how the knight's nightmares were going to go tonight!

They made camp that evening just south of the Border Sands. Chrom helped set up tents and bedrolls with Olivia, Kellam, Sully, and a few others. Cordelia and Stahl took over cooking duty while Frederick got a fire going, and Donnel went around with Maribelle checking for injuries. The bluenette caught glimpses of Nowi running around with Ricken's hat and Ricken chasing after her. A smile crossed his face at the two "youngsters" and their antics. Over on a rock nearby he found Virion running a comb through Panne's fur, helping her get the sand out, and Lissa and Vaike were setting up patrol shifts for the camp. Robin and Sumia sat poring over a map by the fire, and Dad joined them, pointing out different places and explaining about them.

He'd just finished with the last tent when Lon'qu came over and gave him a hand, helping him up off the dusty ground. "Oh! Thank you."

The myrmidon nodded. "You all right?"

"Oh, um, yes. I'm fine, thank you."

"Good." The ravenette favored him with a critical look. "Your swordplay needs work. You would have died last battle without your magic."

Chrom stammered, heat rising in his cheeks. "U-Um, I, um, have had Dad say that before. The-The swordplay thing, I mean." He shrugged. "I guess when you put all your focus in one area, the others suffer. I mean, I've been working with magic, counting healing, since I was four. But bladework? I didn't start using the sword until about ten years later, when Dad and I started running into more bandits and whatnot." The bluenette sighed. "And I haven't exactly been practicing on a regular basis."

"That is going to change. You and I will spar regularly to improve your skill."

"Ah, w—okay, I guess…"

"Chrom." Lon'qu looked him straight in the eye, dark orbs intense. "You are crucial to Olivia's happiness, and I see you as a brother. I wish for you not to come to harm. Therefore, I will help you get better until you can hold your own."

"Oh." A warmth grew in the bluenette's heart. "That's very kind of you. Thank you."

The Chon'sin man nodded again. "You're welcome. Now," he unseated his sword, "draw your blade!"

"What?! Here, now? It's almost suppertime!"

"If you can defeat me before then, we will both be on time. Do your best!"

The impromptu spar turned out… frankly pathetic. Chrom knew the basics of swordfighting, but his low strength coupled with average stamina proved unable to keep Lon'qu from scoring a hit. The fight lasted less than a minute and ended up with the bluenette mage flat on his back. The myrmidon stood over him, a faint look of concern on his face.

"You know, I suddenly have an appreciation for Lissa and her training with Falchion."

Lon'qu grabbed his hand and hauled him up. "I rely on speed and precision. The princess focuses on strength and power."

"I'll say!" The boy rolled his sore shoulder around. "That thing is stupidly heavy, how does she even wield it?!" He gave a dreamy sigh. "Cuts like a hot knife through butter, though."

The ravenette's eyes widened. "You… You wielded Falchion?!"

Chrom nodded, confused. "It was really quick, during last battle. Lissa lost her grip on it and fell on the other side of the one dune. So I picked it up to get it over to her and took out a couple of soldiers on the way. Why?"

The older man grabbed his arm and pulled him closer as they walked towards the mess tent. "Do you not understand the significance?"

"Uh, w-well, I know it belongs to the Exalted family and was used by the First Exalt to kill Grima," the bewildered boy supplied as they each got a plate and filled it up. "Marth had a Falchion, too, though to be fair I think she's from the future."

Lon'qu gave him an annoyed look as they each found a seat. "Marth."

The bluenette blinked, then remembered. "Ohhhhh, that's right! She beat you out to be Basilio's champion!"

"So you found out, then."

"… Well, yeah, during the night we stopped Lady Emm's assassination, of course. Weren't you there?" He took a bite of beef soup. "Mmm~! Wow, I think we found our cooking dream team!" He turned and gave a thumbs-up to Cordelia and Stahl, who grinned and waved back at him.

"You did not realize she was a woman before?"

Chrom blinked. "Um, not really? I sort of had an inkling that she didn't seem quite right for a guy, but…" Then he remembered something Olivia had confided with him earlier. "Oh. Oh! Is that how you lost to her?"

To the teen's surprise, the ravenette turned bright red. "It was embarrassing. I hesitated, and she pressed the advantage."

"Oh, dear." Chrom gave a chuckle. "That's unfortunate. Maybe she knew something, though, and that's why she challenged you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"She knew about Lady Emm's assassination, things no one could've predicted unless they were part of the Plegians' plan—which I doubt, seeing as she carries Falchion and made sure Lady Emm survived. She said something about trying to avert a destroyed future."

Lon'qu frowned, spooning some soup into his mouth. "Do you know why the Exalted family wields Falchion?"

"Other than to protect the halidom?"

The man fixed him with a steely gaze. "They are the only ones who can wield it. It will not cut for any other. And only the worthy ones in the family may wield it."

Chrom felt the world drop out from underneath him. "W-What…?"

"That is what Lissa told me when Vaike tried to use it. It would not cut for him, but it did for her."

This… this is… Was it him, or was the room spinning? No, that must be his head. "B-But… I-I… I don't have the Brand."

"Neither does she," Lon'qu pointed out. "Yet she wields it without problem."

The air in the bluenette mage's chest felt thick and heavy. "S-So… you… are you saying I'm-I'm related to them?" He gasped. "Then… Then I must be right! My theory… it must be true!"

The ravenette gave him a confused look, so Chrom explained what he'd deduced based on everyone's reactions to him, Marth's information, and all the other facts he'd picked up about his relation to the royal family. By the time he got to the conclusion he'd shared with Robin earlier, Lon'qu's eyes had gone wide with shock and disbelief. The man frowned in thought, apparently mulling over the situation. Chrom ate a few more bites of soup while he waited for his unofficial older brother's verdict.

"It… It sounds like madness," the swordsman murmured after several minutes. "And yet… the way you have connected the information makes sense."

"I know, right?! That's kind of what Robin said, too!"

"But time travel?"

The bluenette shrugged. "It's not impossible. I've actually seen diagrams of portals like the one Marth came through in my dad's spellbook. His notes say they can lead to other words, including the past and the future."

"I… see." The ravenette glanced over at Dad, who was speaking with Robin and Frederick in the corner of the tent. "Is it possible that your father was experimenting with portals and pulled you into this time?"

Chrom shook his head. "Marth intended to come here, which means someone on her side made the portal."

"Hmm. So perhaps you did escape."

The mage-healer looked at his father and tapped his lips in thought. "I believe so…"

Chrom got to share a tent with Robin that night. He went in to the empty tent and sighed, taking his cloak off and basking in the warmth of the tent. He'd seen Dad running around after dinner enchanting all the tents so that they would be warm during the freezing desert night. Why Lissa wanted to march through the day and sleep through the night instead of otherwise baffled him, particularly since Dad had argued against it. Although to be fair, they did want to get to Emmeryn and Ciel as quickly as possible, and waiting till nightfall to switch schedules could be considered a waste of time. The bluenette still thought going nocturnal would serve them better. Oh well, at least they had Dad's spells to help them out. Once again, the boy felt grateful he'd reunited with his father.

He unbuckled his belt and unwrapped his obi, shaking the sand out of them onto the ground, away from the bedrolls. He had just slipped his shirt off when someone entered the tent. "Chrom, Robin would like—oh, my. Please excuse me."

Chrom turned around as Frederick cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry! I didn't know anyone else was coming—aah!" For the knight had seized him by the forearms and pulled him close, eyes riveted to a spot on the boy's skin.

To the Mark on Chrom's breast.

Frederick went white, then his expression hardened, his eyes blazing with fury. "How… this… how dare you," he growled, voice low and threatening.

"Um, w-what?" the bluenette stuttered.

"Don't play coy with me. You infiltrated the Shepherds in order to throw off our plans. You've been feeding information to the enemy!"

Chrom's knees felt weak. "I-I don't understand… what-what are you talking about…?"

"I should have known." The knight tightened his hold on the boy's arms, causing him to cry out. "Your aptitude with dark magic, your familiarity with Plegia, your sympathy with Grima, and now this!" He gestured to the violet, six-eyed Mark. "And of course, your uncanny likeness to the prince! Well, you thought you could get this far, but you shall go no further," and here he lowered his voice and hissed, "Grimleal!"

What?! "Grimleal?! What are you talking about?! I may have heard about them, but that doesn't mean I am one of them!"

"And yet you wear the Mark of Grima plain as day."

"The… Mark of Grima?" Chrom glanced down in confusion at the Mark. "Is… is that what this is?" He furrowed his brow. "But… that just doesn't make any sense! Maybe it just looks like the Mark of Grima—"

"It is the Mark of Grima!"

"But it can't be because my father gave it to me! It's the evidence of his blood pact with me!"

If it was possible, Frederick became even more livid. "Your father, who taught you about Grimleal magic and gave you a Mark of Grima." He growled again. "We've let two of them in our midst! And I trusted you," his voice rose, "because you look exactly like the prince! How could I have been so foolish?!"

"Stop! Please!" Chrom gave a fearful sob as the bigger man dragged him out of the tent. "I had no idea any of that was like that! And Dad can't be a Grimleal because… well, he can't be one now, clearly he hates them!" He gave a squeak of pain as the brunette threw him to the ground and drew his axe. Terrified, the boy curled up into a ball, tears leaking onto his cheeks. "No… please! No!"

The axe swung—and stopped. Chrom glanced up and beheld his father standing above him, gripping the axe by its handle above his head. Frederick strained and pushed down on the weapon, but Dad didn't budge an inch. Around them, the Shepherds murmured and whispered. Lon'qu and Olivia ran up to help the bluenette to his feet, and Gregor and Kellam seized the knight's arms, holding him tight as he struggled to get out of their grip. Dad plucked the axe from the angry knight's hands and tossed it to the side, away from Chrom. The boy stood, shivering behind his father, who emitted a dark aura from his body.

"Now, Frederick," Dad said, voice calm and dark and pleasant, "I hope your senses have temporarily taken leave of you, because I can't think of a viable reason why you would attack my son."

The knight growled, baring his teeth. "Your son is an affront to the Exalted family and an abomination!"

The air around the older albino dropped several degrees. He sauntered forward and took the struggling man's face in his hand. "I've been called that before," he crooned. "Abomination…. freak… monster… Perhaps I earned it, perhaps I didn't." His voice turned icy, and his eyes glowed red, nails digging into Frederick's face. "But my son has never been called that before, and he has never earned that horrible expletive. You don't deserve to even stand in his presence!"

"Father, please!" Chrom stepped towards the angry dragon, hands reaching out. "Please don't do this, he was just doing his job! He had every right to suspect—"

"He had no right!" Dad roared, looking at him. "This man has gone too far! He continues to be a threat to your health and safety! He cannot be allowed to live if he carries on like this!"

The conversation with Lon'qu earlier came to mind. "I know how to make him stop!"

That caught everyone's attention. Chrom felt their stares burning into him, all too reminiscent of the Risen Sarah debacle—except this time, he hadn't even done anything. Robin hurried up to him and wrapped the younger mage's coat around him, and his shivering subsided. He gulped, then repeated, "I know how to make him stop."

Dad let go of Frederick and regarded him with curiosity. "How?"

"I…" He took a shaky deep breath. It was now or never. He had to tell them.

"I can wield Falchion."

Shock and gasps ran through the company around them. Chrom held his father's gaze, which had blanked with surprise and… was that recognition? No, probably not. No one moved, everyone held their breath. Then Lissa stepped forward and unsheathed the divine blade.

"It was during our last battle, wasn't it." He nodded. She held the sword out to him, and he grasped the hilt, the tip of the blade falling to the ground. Vaike ran up with a thick log from the wood supply and held the ends of it in each hand. Lissa nodded to the bluenette, and he breathed and closed his eyes. The power of the blade from before called out to him, and his entire being sang with the rightness of the magical blade in his hand. Falchion whispered, Home. I have come home.

Chrom opened his eyes, feeling them blaze with the amount of power he was channeling, and lifted the sword. Then he brought it down, slashing through the log with a single stroke. The piece of wood split into two, both faces perfectly clean and smooth.

Silence reigned. Then the company exploded with wild cheers and applause. Lon'qu and Robin lifted the bluenette onto their shoulders as Gregor and Kellam let go of Frederick, and the other Shepherds rushed in, parading the boy around the camp. Frederick looked as though his mind had shut down from an overload of disbelief, and Dad? Well, he didn't look surprised in the slightest, but he beamed with pride and love for his son. A small smile grew on Chrom's face and widened into a grin.

He knew who he was now! He had proven it!

Frederick didn't know what to think anymore.

The boy looked exactly like the prince, he'd thought it absolutely certain the boy was the prince. But then he'd found that the boy didn't have the Exalted Brand, which the prince had. This evening he'd discovered that the boy had the brand of the enemy, the Mark of Grima, in his skin. And yet, as shown by the display he gave, the boy could wield Falchion, which no spell or hex or other kind of magic could fake.

Who on earth was this child?!

Raven had let him off with a warning not to antagonize the bluenette teen any further—this was his last chance, according to the dragonkin—before letting him go and following the procession carrying the boy around. Frederick was ashamed to say he stood there frozen and dumbfounded for several minutes. Lissa had had to yell at him several times for him to come to his senses. Now the knight sat in his bedroll in his tent he shared with Virion, trying to come to grips with the reality of the situation.

Exalt Archibald and Queen Elaine had had no siblings when they married and had their children, so the Exalted siblings had grown up without cousins. Was it possible, however, that an old offshoot of the family could potentially produce such a child? One who had no Brand but was deemed worthy by Falchion? And Raven had either found the child and rescued him, true to their story, or he had kidnapped the child and tried to brainwash him. After all, the Grimleal likely thought it would be a terrific insult to Naga's Chosen to take one of her children and turn him against her champions. And yet… the sheer rage Raven had displayed when he learned from the Grimleal mage that Nowi was to be sacrificed… perhaps Chrom was right, and Raven had split with the Grimleal over doctrinal differences. The bluenette had said he asked for the blood pact, and looking at the tremendous care and love Raven treated the boy with, it didn't seem quite so likely that the pact had been forced onto the boy. So what did that mean?

Puzzling over the problem, Frederick fell asleep, but his dreams were full of horrific images again. Chief among them was a frightened, weeping Chrom shying away from a faceless crowd that jeered and scratched at him. Monster, abomination, freak, defiled, they called the poor boy. The knight reached out to the child, then noticed the axe in his hands. His arms swung, out of his control, and brought the axe down on a screaming Chrom. Frederick woke up screaming as well.

Eventually Virion hogtied and gagged him to try to get some measure of sleep that night.

And that's a wrap! Next up: Storming Plegia Castle! The Shepherds and co. reach the capital of Plegia the day of Emmeryn and Inigo's execution. The fight in the courtyard gains the group two allies, one of whom recognizes Chrom. Grima panics and rescues Inigo, revealing a taboo truth by accident. Chrom tries to rescue Emmeryn, but is unsuccessful... maybe.

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

"... Miss Vio, how is Daddy gonna get the Marth if he doesn't have a phone?"

Oh, I'm sure he'll get a phone just for this. I bet the Annas could figure out a way to get him one.

"Can I play too? Please?"

Aww, okay! You can borrow my account, I've got a bunch of cool units... like a legendary bow version of you... and male Grima... and Christmas Marth...