Okay, THIS chapter, more than the last one, is one of THE chapters I've most anticipated. I am so thrilled to finally get to this point! I've had this one in mind ever since the massive brainwave session that finally got me writing this fic, THAT is how stoked I am! And I'm sure you all are, too! Let's GOOOOOOOOOO!

Meanwhile, An Preson Peepul is redoing their story that inspired this one, That's Mama Lucina to You! If you want more time travel mess-ups plus plenty of action and Lucina whump, head on over and check their new and improved version out! I read the first chapter, and it is a WHOPPER right up my alley! They also gave me a shoutout for this fic, which I feel ridiculously honored about, so thank you, An Preson Peepul! Here's to That's Mama Lucina to You 2.0!

"Ooh! What's that one about, Miss Vio?"

Well, it's the same concept as this fic—a time traveler overshoots their destination and ends up with the child version of one of the main characters—except the time traveler there is Lucina.

"Oh, I see! But... what about Daddy?"

... I'm... not going to say anything about that right now. I kinda don't know what to say to that.

Don't own, as usual. (I do think it is hilarious how you can unequip Falchion from Chrom in-game and give it to the Marth Einherjar. I mean, makes sense—it's still funny since you're not supposed to anyway.)

Running.

Fleeing.

Sand in the air. On the ground.

Hot sun beating down on their heads.

Whinnies and snorts from horses and pegasi.

Silence from everyone else.

Chrom slipped into the convoy wagon, where his father sat resting on a crate as Libra healed the arrow wound. The bloodied arrowhead lay broken and discarded on the wooden planks of the wagon, and the bluenette gathered the pieces up before tossing them out of the wagon. He seated himself next to the albino as the priest finished up, mouthing "Thank you" to the blonde man. Libra gave a nod and bowed, exiting the wagon.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Chrom glanced at Dad's wound, the skin showing no trace that he'd been injured. The man's drained expression told him otherwise. The boy bit his lip and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.

After a minute, Dad shifted and sighed. "I was an idiot… I used up too much too quickly. If I hadn't, I could've gotten her down…"

"I-It's not your fault… I tried, but… I failed."

The older man snorted. "I felt you activate the spell, so I don't know what went wrong. Maybe you just needed more practice…"

Gulping, the teen glanced down. "I-I'm sorry, I… I should've waited first, I know how you are with the spells in your spellbook and whatnot, I shouldn't have—"

"You've done it before."

Chrom paled and looked at him. "Yeah… It was in the middle of the border pass battle. I got stuck and Robin told me to get out. So I did the only thing I had available at the time."

"And you were successful, too, weren't you."

Pride shown in his father's tired gaze. The bluenette mage gave a weak chuckle. "If by successful you mean I did the spell and then knocked myself out for a day or two, yeah, I was successful. Maribelle was pissed."

"Was that when you completely bypassed your natural instinct to draw from a tome?" Dad asked, curious. The boy shook his head.

"The teleportation thing was before that. I think catching a dark spell with my bare hands is what, as Maribelle says, blasted my mana channels wide open."

"Huh." Dad smiled and lifted a hand, patting Chrom's arm. "You know, I'm proud of you. You did the best you could in the circumstances." He sighed. "I just wish it hadn't been at the cost of… her."

Chrom nodded, his chest heavy. "Yeah."

"She protected Ciel, I wish I could've done something."

The young mage raised his eyebrow at the older man. "Is it Ciel, or Inigo?"

Now it was Dad's turn to pale. "Oh, shoot. I said that out loud?!"

"You screamed it for the whole castle to hear, Dad." Chrom huffed a laugh. "Look, I don't know what he asked you not to reveal or why, but… I trust you. Just… I don't know, be honest with me like you always are. If I don't need to know something, let me know at least why."

"I know, I will. I can't tell you anything more about him, sorry."

"'S okay."

Chrom gave his father a hug before exiting the wagon. He found Olivia nearby, and she gave him a watery smile, taking his hand. Up ahead, Vaike had his arm around Lissa, the princess's posture slumped and defeated. The bluenette regarded her with a lump in his throat. How in the world could he help her? She'd lost her brother before she could remember, and now she'd lost her sister, and she was next in line to rule the halidom. At least she had Vaike to comfort her. Near the two, Frederick rode with his head bowed and shoulders hunched over. The mage-healer weaved his way over to the knight and looked up at him.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

The brunette shrugged. "You did what you could. We all did." He sighed. "And in the end, it wasn't enough. I had hoped to never feel such a thing again."

"Um…" Chrom bit his lip, already guessing the answer to his next question. "When was that?"

"… When we lost the prince."

"If you don't mind… could you tell me?"

Frederick regarded him with a steady, if pain-filled gaze. "Emmeryn and I were good friends in our childhood. I was the son of a knight, she was the crown princess… we got along well. Unfortunately that was what caused the tragedy…" He cleared his throat. "The Exalt had been fighting in the war alongside his troops, so the queen decided she and her children could do with a change of scenery. They left the castle and traveled to a small resort south of the capital. I came along, but I was more interested in playing with Emm than watching out for her brother."

"Uh-oh, I think I can guess where this is going."

The older man nodded. "We all went out to a clearing for a picnic one day. While I was playing with the princess, the prince wandered off into the woods. It was only when we were called to dinner that I realized he was missing." The look on his face turned heavy with sorrow. "We searched the area thoroughly, but our efforts were all for naught. We had to leave soon after due to the reports of Plegian soldiers making their way into the country."

Chrom's face fell. "And you never found him?"

"Never. He had completely vanished into thin air." Frederick sighed. "I promised Emmeryn then that I would become a strong and powerful knight, worthy of protecting anyone. And I would find her brother and bring him home to her." He gave a dry scoff. "Not that it seems to matter anymore. She… she isn't here."

"Lissa is," the bluenette reminded him. "She needs your help. She's next in line for the throne, right? She's gonna need all the support she can get, and you're one of the best Ylisse has."

The knight gave him a long look before nodding. "You… You're right. I must stand by her, as I stood by her sister." He glanced away, shoulders trembling.

"I-I'll leave you alone, then?" Frederick gave no answer, so Chrom waited for Olivia to catch up and walked beside her again.

"Where did you learn Plegian dark magic?"

Chrom gave a muffled squeak and whipped around, finding Tharja behind him. Her dark eyes bored into him, and he gulped. "M-My foster f-father taught me." At her puzzled look, he clarified, "The mage that looks almost exactly like Robin. He rescued the, um… well, he isn't the prince, they just thought he was. His name's Raven."

"… I see." She glanced down at his hip where Umbra sat holstered. "Never encountered that spell ever before, though." Her eyes flicked back up to his face. "Where did you get it?"

"I w-wrote it. Dad helped me."

"Hmm. Interesting. It's not everyday you run across an Ylissean dark mage." She smirked. "And you're pretty powerful, too, from the looks of it. Did you do any rituals to strengthen your magic?"

"… No? I just practiced a lot and learned how not to burn myself out. I-I mean, I didn't think I was that powerful."

"'Course you are!" Nowi piped up, swinging hers and Ricken's joined hands. "People with dragon's blood're always stronger than normal people. Just look at Lissa! She sure swings the ol' fang around without breaking a sweat! Wheee!"

"D… Dragon blood?" Chrom furrowed his brow in thought. "Are you talking about the blood pact I made with my father?"

The verdant-blonde pouted. "No, silly! The other one! It's wayyyyyy old, the runs-in-your-family kind!"

"You have two blood pacts?!" Tharja's mouth opened in shock. "No wonder you're so powerful." Her gaze lingered on his shoulder a moment before returning to his face.

"T… Two… b-blood pacts…?" the bluenette asked, feeling faint. "How… I had no idea… what…" That's… I'm going to have to talk to Father about this. Did he know? He must have. Did-did I not want to remember the other one because it's linked to my birth family? I don't know… This is so confusing…!

The dark mage grinned at him. "If you like, we can do some… experiments when this is over." She slunk back behind Robin and Sumia, who marched near the bluenette and pinkette with Bellemere. Gaius ran up to her and asked her a question, and although she snapped a sarcastic retort to him, the Plegian woman looked a bit less unapproachable. Chrom glanced at Olivia, who shrugged back at him.

Two blood pacts?!

"Come on! There should be carriages waiting for us just past the ravine!" Basilio shouted, waving them through the rain. Chrom shuddered, his hood up and boots squelching in the sandy mud. He glanced back at Lissa, who had stopped a ways away, her loose hair hiding her face. The West Khan yelled, "Princess! Let's go!"

"R… Right. I-I'm coming," the blonde answered, following them.

"We're almost there, every—Blast! Plegians! I should've known it wouldn't be so easy!"

The bluenette's stomach dropped at the sight of the soldiers that swarmed the Midmire, and he bit his lip. I-I don't want to fight anymore… I don't want to see anyone else die today… The bulky general in the midst of the Plegian company evidently thought the same. "Hold it right there, Ylisseans! Surrender now and I will let you live!"

"Surrender?" Basilio scoffed. "Can't say I'm familiar with the word. Everyone, prepare to fight!"

"Wait!" the general cried. "Emmeryn, your Exalt, she wouldn't have wanted this to come to bloodshed—"

"HOW DARE YOU!" Lissa screamed, rushing to the front of the Ylissean party. She drew Falchion and stood, trembling, rage clear in her stance. "YOU DON'T DESERVE TO SPEAK HER NAME!"

The general regarded her with sad sympathy. "Your anger is justifiable, Princess Lissa. But… her final sacrifice… the meaning of it was not lost on me." He glanced around at his fellow soldiers. "I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that many of my countrymen who heard her final words agree." His stance filled with noble resolve. "Lay down your weapons and I swear to you, I will protect you to the best of my abilities."

Frederick's eyes narrowed. "And why should we believe you after what your barbaric king has done?" He hefted his axe. "I prefer to take our chances with our weapons in hand!"

"I thought you might say something like that." The general sighed. "Very well then, Princess Lissa. My men and I will endeavor to honor you with a swift and noble end!"

Chrom felt sick as everyone readied their weapons. Some of the Plegian soldiers conversed before, incredibly, the general ordered those who didn't want to fight dismissed from the battlefield. The bluenette's eyes widened. They… They had heard Emmeryn's message, too! They were just people trapped in horrible circumstances like the villagers in Bubblestone! The boy clenched his fist. No… he could not fight them. There had to be a better way—a way without shedding blood! If what the general had said was true, these soldiers' families were in danger! He wouldn't take their lives, he wouldn't let them become more Emmeryns!

He glanced at his tome and felt the weight of the Fire Emblem in his coat. Yes… that could work!

The general readied his weapon. "My name is General Mustafa of Plegia. If you desire to keep your lives, you must win them!"

Stop…

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU AND EVERY LAST PLEGIAN HERE!" Lissa screeched.

No…

"So be it!"

Enough!

"STOP IT!"

Everyone's attention turned to the teen mage who had rushed in between the two sides. He held out his hands, palms facing towards each side, desperation in his heart and eyes.

"Please… I can't bear to see anyone else die today," he pleaded, glancing between the Ylissean and Plegian parties. "Not Ylissean, not Plegian—no more taking innocent lives! I can't fight against you knowing you're victims of circumstance!"

"What do you plan to do, boy?" Mustafa asked. "Our families' lives are at stake! How do you expect us to back down?"

"You won't have to!" Chrom took out Umbra. "There will be a battle… and everyone will make it out alive!" He gazed down at the cover of his personal tome. "I have a spell that I created myself. It uses dark magic to send the target into a deep sleep. You'll wake up again eventually if you're hit with it. It was specifically designed not to harm a living being, and it never has."

The Plegian axe-wielder looked interested. "Are you saying you want to take on my army all by yourself?"

"I-I mean," he glanced at Robin, "Robin could probably help. I don't necessarily need the tome itself to cast the spell."

The white-haired tactician shrugged. "I'd be happy to give it a try."

"Why are you suggesting this?" a Plegian lancer spoke up. "Why go to the trouble of having us fight you?"

"Because we can't let Gangrel suspect anything. If he comes upon you and sees that you basically let us go, he will kill your families! But if he comes up and sees you fought us and were defeated, he'll spare you and your families! At least, that's the plan," he explained.

Flavia and Basilio glanced at each other, then burst out laughing. The latter shook his head. "Now I can officially say that is the ballsiest plan I have ever heard in my life! You got guts, kiddo!" He grinned. "Well, I'm for it. Anybody else?"

The two sides looked at each other before agreeing. Robin strode out and took Umbra from Chrom's outstretched hand. The two mages stood side by side, facing the Plegian company.

"Give me the best that you've got!" Chrom yelled. Together he and Robin called out,

"UMBRA!"

"I can't believe that actually worked," Robin muttered as the carriages drove the Ylissean party on their way out of Plegia. "I'm not completely sure I was ready to cast Umbra, though."

In the seat opposite the tactician, Chrom shrugged. "I think you did just fine for a first try. The first version was more of an Arc-level tome, I think. This one is up with Rexcalibur and Thoron and Bolganone." He picked at his sleeve. "At least, that's how powerful it's supposed to be."

"S-So you really did write your own tome?" the blue-haired boy next to the mage-healer asked. "C-Can I see?"

Chrom smiled at him. "Of course! Ciel, was it?" He caught the boy's facepalm as he handed the tome over. "What?"

"Nothing," the younger bluenette mumbled. He took the tome with reverent hands and began flipping pages, scanning them with wide-eyed fervor.

"Interested in magic?"

Ciel faltered. "Um, well, I didn't think I had the aptitude for it, so I never tried studying it. One of our friends—well, she's really more of a cousin—she's into it. So's another one of our group."

"Oh, I see." Chrom chuckled. "Well, Dad didn't think I was that talented in magic either, but I wanted to learn so badly… I wanted to be like my dad, you see—" Ciel flinched. "Hey, he's not so bad! Though he is pretty protective, I have to admit. He rescued you, didn't he?"

"… Yeah. Yeah, he did." The tension left the younger teen's body, and he gave a weak smile. "I… I just thought he was someone I'm afraid of when we first met… but, um, he's kinda grown on me."

On Robin's right side, Sumia chuckled. "Yes, Raven does have a way of growing on you, doesn't he? Frederick antagonism notwithstanding."

"To be fair, it is somewhat justified," Chrom pointed out.

"Why?" Ciel wondered, curious gaze riveted to the older bluenette.

Chrom hesitated. "Well… Frederick kind of… triggered one of my panic attacks. And then he tried to kill me when he found out about my blood pact Mark."

"What?!" the boy squeaked in horror.

From Robin's left side (she'd insisted on riding with them), Tharja leaned forward in interest. "You have a Mark?"

"Yeah. It's over my heart. Dad and Robin have it, too, though theirs is on their right hands."

The dark-haired woman pursed her lips in thought. "… So that's evidence of one of your blood pacts. Hmm… very curious."

Chrom bit his lip and directed a questioning look at the tactician, who shrugged, his expression clueless. They continued on in silence for a bit longer, Ciel flipping through Umbra and leaning against the mage-healer. Chrom smiled at the boy. He looked so much like him, it was little wonder Dad had latched onto the younger teen. The eyepatch made him curious, but then he figured it was probably to protect the young swordsman from people who might want to hurt the real prince of Ylisse, at least until Dad had taken out the illusion of the Brand.

After a few minutes, Robin huffed and asked, "Tharja, what is it with you and Chrom's shoulder?" The mage didn't answer, and Chrom noticed her gaze was locked onto his right shoulder. The albino continued, "I mean, if you're attracted to shoulders, I get it, I could probably find a guy in the Shepherds with a nice pair—"

"That is an extremely high-level hex you have there," she interrupted.

Chrom blinked. "… Do you mean my coat, or on my shoulder?"

"The latter, why do you think I've been staring at it all this time? I wouldn't have noticed it unless I was actively searching for it. I found it when I scanned your body earlier."

… Ohhhhhh-kay, that was mildly concerning that she hadn't asked first. The bluenette mage frowned. "I must've sustained it during the battle earlier without knowing it. Do you—would you be able to take it off?"

Tharja tapped her finger to her lips in thought. "It's going to take a while, considering the sheer complexity of it… but I think I have enough experience to unwind it." She shrugged and moved over to the opposite seat, Chrom and Ciel scooting over to make room for her. "And if not, your dad will probably be able to do it."

"Okay. Thanks."

The woman nodded and got to work picking at the hex. After several minutes of her unraveling the spell, Chrom fell into a light doze. Just before he fell completely into sleep, he felt Ciel lean his head on his shoulder, the younger boy's breathing evening out. An unconscious smile crossed his lips as he dipped deeper into slumber.

He found himself in the usual black void where he met with his father's dragon form. The dragon's features had always remained obscured in the darkness, but Chrom didn't mind. Soft feathers wrapped around his body as red eyes gazed down, tired-looking but filled with love. The two rested together in each other's embrace, enjoying the company of each other's presence. A couple of times his father purred, stroking the bluenette's head or back. The sensation lulled the boy deeper into blissful oblivion, and he snuggled closer to the warm scaly body, completely relaxed.

He awoke just before they reached Arena Ferox after Tharja finished untangling the hex on his shoulder. The woman sat back in her seat and sighed.

"I have never in my life encountered a trickier hex than the one I just undid. Why it was completely harmless, I have no idea."

"It was harmless?" Chrom frowned. "Why would someone cast a harmless hex on me? That's just bizarre."

"Dunno." She shrugged. "Normally I can figure out what type of hex it is, but this one kept evading me. Like I said, it was extremely high-level. It even hid its purpose from me."

"… Weird." Well, at least it was harmless? Maybe it was a tracking spell or something… His stomach jolted at the thought. What if he had inadvertently led Gangrel and his men to their position?! But wait, wouldn't Dad have noticed it? Although he'd been on the edge of burnt out… Still, this was a bit concerning.

Oh well, he'd just have to figure it out later. They'd arrived at the Feroxi capital.

Basilio and Flavia got all the Shepherds set up with rooms when the party returned. Then the Khans insisted on ensuring everyone got food and rest before they planned their next move against Gangrel. From what Inigo had seen at the battle at Plegia Castle, Grima would probably call dibs on killing the Mad King—that is, if Aunt Lissa didn't get to him first. Seeing his aunt wield Falchion was, frankly, a bit of a shock to the youth. While he knew Owain could wield the divine blade, the older prince's mother had never shown an aptitude for the sword, although she had been a formidable war cleric in the future. It did make sense, Aunt Emmeryn was a pacifist who wouldn't use a weapon, and his father had been missing for the past fifteen years; Aunt Lissa was really the only choice left. Still, it was strange seeing her in action, especially since she'd developed a style not unlike his sister's. He wondered what Lucina would think of her if she ever met her, or if she had already met her. Lon'qu seemed to have not suffered from his injury in the original timeline, so she must've succeeded.

His father, on the other hand… Meeting him was like getting splashed in the face with water on a warm day: shocking, but not entirely uncomfortable. While the older bluenette wielded magic (extremely proficiently too, which made Inigo reconsider his own aptitude) and had a shyer and more sensitive and thoughtful demeanor, there seemed to be hardly any difference at the core of his being from the father he remembered. Grima had spoken true: he'd cared for Chrom and ensured he grew up well. The solution at the Midmire that Chrom had come up with was ingenious and compassionate, far from what a person raised to be a monster would consider. Inigo wondered if his father would've considered such a thing in the original timeline. Probably not, as he would've grown up with Aunt Emmeryn as his sister, and Father had mentioned to them that he was a bit reckless and hard-headed in his youth. Actually, thinking about it now, the teen figured that version of his father would've acted more along the lines of Aunt Lissa's reactions. Very strange, indeed…

Father didn't seem to mind Inigo's attentions at all. In fact, he explained that "Raven" had told him they were related. Inigo's heart stuttered to a stop.

"R-R-Related h-how?!"

The older teen held up his hand. "He didn't say, just that there's a bunch of stuff you can't tell me for good reasons." He chuckled. "Kind of like Marth, now that I think about it."

"… Marth…?"

"You don't know her? Blue hair like ours, wields Falchion?"

Sister! He's seen her! "Oh, u-um, maybe. Unless, of course, there's somebody else named 'Marth' that you know?"

"Marth?!" Grima's head shot up, and he ran over to the two standing in the hall, eyes wide. He grasped Inigo's shoulders with a desperate look. "Marth is here?! How?! Where?!"

The younger bluenette's mouth opened in stunned confusion. "Uh… um… sh-she—"

"She?" The albino frowned. "Marth is a guy!" Then he reddened and corrected, "Was a guy. Marth was a guy. Still is, only he's… you know." His shoulders slumped. "What kind of girl calls herself 'Marth,' anyway?"

"Probably somebody from a destroyed future who needed to be a symbol of hope or something?" Inigo's jaw dropped, and he stared at Father, aghast. How did he know?! "I think she's related to me, she wields Falchion and is probably my older sister." Wait, what?

While Inigo's brain tried and failed to reboot after that bizarre declaration (and really, in any other situation, he probably would've found the unwitting swap hilarious), Grandfather's countenance darkened, and he hissed, "What?!"

"Um, Dad?"

"How dare… not worthy…"

"Dad, you're freaking me out."

The albino growled, "The only one I've ever come across who is worthy of that name is you!"

Chrom blinked. "… Dad?"

Inigo glanced between the two men, bewildered. Grima's eyes cleared of some of the rage, but he still clenched his fists. "If you need me, I'll be in one of the training rooms, demolishing dummies." He turned and stalked away, his head hung and shoulders tense. The younger bluenette looked at his father, who shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I think… maybe… hmm…"

The story Grandfather had told him that night in the castle came back to Inigo's mind. He gasped. "F—Chrom, what… what if he knew Marth? The original one?"

"Oh!" The older bluenette sucked in a breath. "You know, he used to tell me stories of a dark dragon and a blue-haired prince. Maybe… maybe you're right!" Then his face fell. "Oh gods, that makes it so much worse! If he thought his old friend was here… It's a good thing our 'Marth' isn't here, he looked outraged at the idea of someone else using that name."

"Yeah…" Inigo bit his lip. "Do you think I should go talk to him?"

"You might want him to cool off first."

"Right. Okay."

Eventually Inigo found his foster grandfather (and when had he started thinking of Grima as that?! Had his rescue really made that much of an impact?) bashing in training dummy after training dummy with just his fists. The teen watched in amazement. He hadn't known the man was capable of superhuman strength—but of course, he was a dragon, though with a human body. Maybe his powers allowed for such a thing? He waited until the last dummy had been smashed to bits before the albino slumped to his knees on the floor, white hair hiding his face. The boy stepped into the room, picking his way through shards of wood, strewn straw, and other debris. Reaching the older man, he noticed his shoulders trembling beneath the large coat.

For a couple minutes neither of them spoke. Then Grima gave a shuddery sigh.

"… Y-You know… just for a moment… I thought… I thought I could have him back. H-He… He was my world, back then…"

Inigo wrung his hands, recalling the story. "You were put to sleep, right? And then he…"

"Yeah." The albino sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sometimes I wonder… if I went back in time and changed it so that I hadn't been put to sleep…" He shook his head. "But that's so far in the past, I have no idea if I would lose Chrom when I returned. There's—I can see so much of Marth in him—"

"Is that why you love him then? Because he reminds you of Marth?"

Grima glanced up at him, a fierce light in his eyes. "Chrom is his own person. Now, yes, maybe they're fairly similar, but I would never mistake one for the other." He sighed. "If anyone is worthy to use Marth's name, it is him."

"Um, should I ask Luci to use a different alias? If we ever meet her?" Inigo bit his lip.

The dragon scoffed. "If we meet, she'll probably try to kill me—that is, if she knows who I really am." He fixed the boy with a quizzical look. "How did you know who I was, anyway? I've been wondering that, I just realized you wouldn't have known I had taken over Robin."

"W-Well… I kinda saw you leaping behind Big Sis right as I left the portal." Grima winced. "Yeah, you looked pretty scary. I had six months afterwards to put it all together."

"Oh. Huh. Makes sense."

Inigo hesitated before reaching out and patting the older man on the shoulder. "I-I think I'm still a little bit freaked out by you—you're terrifying when you're angry—but, um… maybe you're not so bad after all."

Grima stared at him, eyes wide, before a smile slowly spread on his face. The bluenette cracked a small smile of his own.

"Thanks, mini blueberry. That… That means a lot to me."

Inigo slipped back into the halls, searching for his room. According to the assignments he'd be sharing with Grima, which… well, he wasn't sure if he'd rather stay with one of his friends' parents-to-be; it might make it easier for him. Maybe he shouldn't be seeking out his father, but the presence of the older bluenette was oddly relaxing. Although, how had he come to the conclusion that Lucina was his sister? It baffled the future prince. Had Father really forgotten who he truly was?

He traversed the hall when he heard familiar voices—Mother and Father! Before he could slip away, Chrom noticed him and called out, "Hey, Ciel! There's someone I'd like you to meet!"

Inigo gulped and approached his parents, fiddling with his hands. He used this to conceal him slipping his mother's ring off his finger and stashing it in his sleeve. Chrom greeted him with a bright smile and gestured to his mother. "Ciel, I'd like you to meet Olivia if you haven't already. She's from Ferox and, well…" The mage blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "She's one of m-my dearest friends."

"H-Hi there." Olivia gave the boy a small wave, her hands clutched to her chest. "I've heard ab-about you a little from Chrom and his father. A-Are you all right? It m-must've been scary being, um, y-you know, captured."

"Yeah, um, i-it was. B-But I had Au—Emm-Emmeryn there, she was very nice."

Father chuckled. "She is, isn't she. O-Or, she was… um…"

They stood there a few moments in morose silence. Then Inigo gave them a weak smile. "W-Well, it-it was nice meeting you, Mo-Miss O-Olivia. Um, see you l-later…" He ducked past them, cheeks flushing bright red.

Gods, how could Lucina do it?! I certainly can't!

Chrom finally made it to his room, the same one he and Robin had shared last time. The older mage had deposited his pack on the floor next to his bed and sat slumped in his chair, arms folded on top of the chair back and head pillowed on them. Tossing his own pack next to his desk, the bluenette regarded his friend. "What's eating you?"

Robin sighed. "I just… I don't know, I wish I could've done better. It feels like it's all my fault."

"Dad and I feel the same way." Chrom sighed and slipped off his coat, hanging it on the back of his chair. "Look, maybe it's everyone's fault, maybe it's no one's fault—we can't… we can't dwell on that, or else we're gonna make more mistakes."

"That something he says?"

"More like the moral of the story of his life. His words, not mine."

The albino hummed. "Wonder how long it took him to learn that lesson. He has three thousand years on us." He grimaced and shook his head. "I hope that doesn't say something about us."

"We'll… we'll learn it eventually, I'm sure."

"Yeah? Hurts like a lance to the heart, though."

Chrom nodded and put his hands on his hips, staring at his pack. He really didn't feel like taking everything out… they still had to deal with Gangrel, and who knew when they were going to be deployed again? The thought made him shudder and wrap his arms around himself. Lissa was in such a depressed state right now, but she seemed ready to snap the moment anyone mentioned the Mad King or her sister. What if she was deemed unfit for combat? And if that meant he had to wield Falchion… The thought elated and sickened him all at once. How he hadn't thrown up after the battle at the Border Sands was beyond him. This was why he'd made Umbra, so he wouldn't have to use such a thing! Was it a result of the other blood pact's influence? Why his blood sang at the presence of the sword in his hands? He remembered how cleanly the divine blade cut through things, but the actual moment of that battle he could not recall. Had he been suppressing such memories? He shuddered, fearful. Perhaps he should speak to Miriel about this, she would probably be helpful in researching trauma-related memory loss. Why hadn't he gone to her about that before?! Because you were perfectly happy not knowing who your family was, that's why. That's great and all, but you never predicted it would get you into this much trouble now, did you, Chrom?

Behind him, a door opened and someone strode out. In the right of his periphery, Robin lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak—then he froze, gaze locking onto something. Chrom glanced at him, confused. "What's wrong?"

The platinum-head stared at him, eyes wide, and pointed to the younger man's shoulder. The bluenette furrowed his brow and looked down.

And beheld the image of the Brand of the Exalt.

"Is everything all right?" Feeling as if his body and mind were moving through molasses, the teen turned and glanced up at Frederick, whose eyes widened at the sight of the Brand. The knight rushed over and slipped the laced-up shoulder of the bluenette's shirt down. "It—It can't be—Is it really—"

"The hex," Robin realized. "The hex that Tharja took off… i-it must've been an illusion… covering up that."

Chrom looked back down at the Brand. It… this… I… An old memory, forgotten until now, flashed through his mind. A Valmese summer—taking his shirt off—Dad's concern—"Couldn't you just make it go away?"—magic threading through his flesh until nothing remained but clear skin—

Oh. Oh. Oh!

Chrom gasped and clutched at his chest, his knees giving out. Frederick caught him, but he barely felt it over the roaring of blood pounding through his ears.

The right age… fifteen years gone… the right name… and now, the Brand…!

He…!

He was—!

He was the missing prince of Ylisse!

Frederick dragged the numb bluenette through Arena Ferox, looking for the throne room where Basilio and Flavia were holding council. Chrom stumbled along, the world around him blurry and slipping through his senses. How… how was it possible? That he was the prince? No wonder he'd been fascinated with Emm's Brand, he had one just like it, and his older sister's had matched in shape and position. His parents… oh gods, his father was the horrible Exalt before Emm! Had he known back then? Another memory resurfaced—Dad had asked him what his birth father was like, and he'd told him his father had been disappointed with him. Maybe he did know. The idea that he was related to such an awful man…! And yet, Emm and Lissa had turned out relatively fine… He didn't know what to think. Had Dad known?

"What now, oaf?"

"Excuse me, I'm not the one in charge here!"

"Oh, right, great. Fine time to get the full throne back."

"Robin tried his best," Lissa spoke up. "I guess… I guess that's all I could ask for."

The knight barged into the room with the bluenette. "Milady, your Graces, I realize now may not be the time you wish to hear this, but… I have news. Good news!" He pushed Chrom in front of him and pulled the boy's shirt down to expose the Brand. The Khans' eyes widened, and Lissa gasped. "The missing prince has been found! He was here with us all along!"

The blonde princess took a tentative step forward, green eyes meeting blue. "Chrom… brother?"

"Lissa… sister!" He finally snapped out of his shock-induced haze and rushed forward. She met him halfway, and the two embraced, clutching each other close. Chrom's eyes welled with tears that dripped down onto his cheeks, and Lissa sniffled and choked out a sob.

"I-I can't believe—you're act-actually—"

"M-Me neither…" The bluenette buried his face in her shoulder. "I w-was too y-young… but-b-but I'm back…" He pulled away from her a bit, giving her a weak smile. "'M s-sorry I'm not th-the brother you w-wanted—"

"Don't say that!" She pounded her fist on his chest. "You're just fine the way you are, Chrom, I wouldn't want anybody else!"

"Lissa… thank you!" He hugged her again.

Sister… he had two sisters! Of course! Mother must have been pregnant with Lissa when he got lost… oh, she must've been so stressed! And Dad… what about him?

"I thought I might—oh, Robin, you came, too—I thought I might discuss tactics…"

Dad's voice trailed off. Chrom disengaged from Lissa's embrace and turned to find his father standing next to Frederick with Robin. The older albino furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "Am—Am I missing something?"

Chrom rushed over to him. "Did you know?" His voice trembled. Dad glanced at the Brand, and his eyes widened with recognition and understanding. "Dad, did you know?"

"I…" The dragon's eyes saddened. "I knew you were special. The presence of an ancient blood pact was evidence of that—it was a very strong presence." He sighed. "When we didn't find your parents, I figured you would be safer with me."

"But why?" The bluenette felt a pain shoot through his heart. "Why didn't you take me back? Maybe you didn't know it was the Brand of the Exalt then, but staying in Ylisse all that time, surely you would've found out!" His bottom lip quivered. "Why didn't you take me back?"

Dad looked at him, sorrow and love deep in his red eyes. "Because from what you told me, I didn't think they were worthy of you."

His birth father. Chrom gave a sob and covered his face with his hands. "You-you were t-trying to pro-protect me?"

"Of course, little blueberry, always." Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him and comforting him.

"Y-You didn't even kn-know me th-then," the teen pointed out.

Dad shrugged. "It didn't matter to me. Remember how I saved you from the bandits? I didn't want you to have someone as bad as my own father figure taking care of you."

"Oh… y-yeah…" He sniffled. "Thank-Thank you… for p-protecting me…"

"Yeah, I think I have to thank you too, Raven. You took care of my brother all this time—kept him alive and safe—so, um, I owe you, big time," Lissa added. "Thank you."

Dad chuckled. "My pleasure, princess. He helped me find a better purpose, so… I'm glad."

While Chrom calmed down and regained his composure, the Khans grinned and patted Lissa on the shoulders. Flavia gave a snort. "You know, if it weren't for the mess we're in, I'd throw a party to celebrate—but we're going to have to wait until the war is over, I think. We've still got a Mad King on the loose."

"Oh, good, you see sense." Basilio crossed his arms. "This is really bad that we've lost the Exalt—"

"Understatement of the century."

"—but I think the return of the lost prince might be just what we need to boost morale." The older Khan ignored her comment. "Princess, rally your Shepherds! We need to take Gangrel out once and for all!"

Lissa nodded. "Right! I'll gather them here, and we'll figure out our strategy! Robin? Raven?"

"You can count on us," Robin replied. "I may not have been strong enough to save the Exalt, but I will make sure I honor her sacrifice by putting Gangrel down!"

"Same here," Dad added, voice fierce and dark. "He put Ciel and Chrom's sister in danger. I will personally serve justice to him myself!"

Chrom bit his lip and nodded, slipping out of his father's arms. "I-I want to fight, too. I don't want him to hurt anymore people! I want Plegia to be free from his influence!"

"Now you're talking!" Flavia cried. "We'll take him out, and you'll have the entire Feroxi army at your back, the oaf and me included!"

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!" Basilio announced. "Robin, Raven, you can start drawing up your plans. Lissa, get your Shepherds here. We move out tomorrow!"

As the blonde swordswoman ran out of the room, the two albinos took out their maps and began discussing various ideas, the Khans pointing out details here and there. Soon, the other Shepherds began to trickle in to the throne room. Frederick offered his hand to the bluenette. "Milord… I… there are no words with which I can apologize for the way I have treated you. I cannot make up for what I have done to you." He blanched. "Gods, I nearly killed you! What if we had found this out afterwards?!"

"Oh, Frederick." Chrom gave him a small smile, taking his hand. "You were just trying your best in the circumstances you were given. I think… I can't help but think I would have acted the same way in your stead."

"No, you wouldn't have tried to kill anyone. You would have knocked them out with Umbra instead."

"Still… I forgive you. For everything." The bluenette's smile widened. "Especially for letting me wander off. I got extremely lucky with Dad."

The knight's expression softened. "Yes… yes, you did. We owe him for raising you." Then he muttered, "Although I do wish he'd brought you back earlier."

Chrom laughed. "I'm afraid this is where we'll have to agree to disagree."

"Oh, very well, then, milord."

Well, the cat was out of the bag now concerning his little blueberry's identity. Grima kept an eye out for Chrom while working with Robin. The poor boy was likely to have all sorts of duties thrust upon him now that he was technically the next in line for the throne, and it worried the Fell Dragon. What if he couldn't handle the pressure of ruling? Why had they failed to rescue Emmeryn so he didn't have to concern himself with such a thing? If she were still alive, he wouldn't have to endure the situation completely out of his depth. He felt surer now than ever that he'd made the right choice not putting the boy in a ruling position in his future kingdom.

At least the red-eyed albino felt he'd handled Chrom's questions well. If he'd come right out and said "Yes, I knew you were the prince, but you stole my heart, so I decided to adopt you," that… probably would not have gone over well with either his son or Frederick, no matter how true it was. Losing the sweet bluenette's trust, he knew, would hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. More than losing Marth—maybe.

Forgive me, Chrom, but there are still things I know that I can't tell you. I won't hurt you like that.

His father had finally been recognized as the rightful prince! Inigo couldn't help the surge of joy in his heart. He ached for the loss of his aunt, but… perhaps, with things back on track, maybe they had a chance. He would miss her dearly, though, having met her now. If only… If only they'd fallen together, maybe Grima would've caught them both.

He couldn't afford to dwell on what-ifs right now. He had a mission, and Gangrel needed to go.

He would fight and protect his father through the coming storm.

And that's a wrap! Next up: Curtains for Gangrel! The Shepherds head back to clash with Gangrel. Chrom offers peace and restoration to the Plegians. The Mad King falls, and the war ends. And a new player enters the stage and timeline...

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

"Miss Vio, Daddy helped me with FEH and I got him! And he's S'ported with big me 'cuz there isn't little me!"

Aww, that's so cute, baby Chrom! You guys will make an awesome team!

"But why can't Emm be in it? I wanna S'port her with Freddy."

Oh, I'm sure she'll get in... eventually... somehow...