I have to say, all the comments from AO3 on the previous chapter made me laugh, especially with everyone yelling at Lucina. I'm going to be starting another writing project however, this time for school, so the time I spend on Father Gothel might be affected. I'm also applying for a job I hope to get after COVID blows over, so I'm really excited for that! This chapter has some of my most favorite content in this whole story, so buckle up!

Fun facts I learned recently: apparently Owain is a writer?! And Walhart is a vegetarian?! Who'd've thunk?

(Also, apologies if I botch writing one-year-olds, it's been a while since the last time I worked with children that smol.)

"I could do it for you, you know."

"And how do you propose that, Grima?

"With the power of the Fell Dragon and anime on my side?"

... I swear Owain will learn some of his theatrics from you, mister.

Don't own (though apparently baby Marth likes me. He's come home three more times after the first. Still no DC-fodder Caeda though).

Babysitting his sister and friends while they were infants was definitely a weird experience for Inigo, but not entirely unpleasant. He wondered if they would grow up to be the same people he knew in his future—of course, they all had different fathers now, except for him, Lucina, and the Le Fay twins. That had been tough to witness, going to all their weddings while not being able to say anything about the future they were potentially ruining (although seeing Father and Mother's wedding was a dream come true). But when the Shepherds began having their children, he was relieved to find that, for the most part, they were the same. He even got a new cousin out of it when Peter was born! Although he, Gerome, and Nah had yet to be born, he felt relatively secure that all of the children from the future would come into existence.

Why had Morgan switched genders, though? That was just bizarre, and Cynthia was not going to be happy once she found out. Her younger twin was her closest friend and the mastermind behind the Justice Cabal's crazy schemes. Owain and Cynthia might be the ones to come up with the ideas, but Morgan always implemented them with near-perfect success. What would the dark flier be like now that she was a he? Something to definitely think about.

As much as he wished to join his father and mother in bringing down Walhart the Conqueror, he still needed to work on his magical education. Grandfather had taken to teaching him in their free time, usually when all the children were taking their naps, and he enjoyed the dragon's lessons. Maybe he didn't agree with the "rule the world" idea, but the man hadn't roasted him for it, so that was nice. Really, the guy doted on him, which was hilarious considering this was the Fell Dragon, but… he didn't mind. It was nice that the man prophesied to destroy the world cared so much about him and his father.

Today the bluenette was in charge of the Le Fay toddlers. They were a bit of a handful on their own, having inherited their father's keen mind and their mother's clumsiness, so the schedule would assign one caregiver to the ash-haired girl and platinum-blonde boy instead of grouping them with more children. Grima had responsibility for Yarne, Luci, and Brady today, so the dragon was sure to be in an especially good mood. Neither of them had ever gotten to watch over Noire since she was still so very young, but occasionally they would pop in to the little girl's room and say hi to the two-month-old preemie. By all accounts, she was doing quite well, though the healers kept a close eye on her. The boy chuckled as he made his way to the nursery and entered, the maids on duty happily greeting him. He found his charges for the day dressed and fed, playing with soft squishy blocks in the middle of the play area. Cynthia kept throwing the bocks and squealing, then crawling over to retrieve them; Morgan sat watching her, hugging onto the dragon plushie Raven had given him for his first birthday. The little boy looked up as Inigo approached and waved "hi" with his little hand.

"Hello, Morgan~! Hello, Cynthia~!" The bluenette sat down on the ground next to the younger twin, who picked up a block and offered it to him. "Why, thank you, Morgan! That's very nice of you!" The toddler giggled and hid his face behind the plushie.

"Weego! Weego pway!" the ashette squealed, crawling over to the youth. She used the boy's clothes to pull herself up into a standing position. "Weego pway! Pway!"

Inigo laughed. "Of course, milady." He tweaked her nose, and she giggled, bapping him in the face with a block. "Now, now, Cynthia, it's not nice to hit someone in the face."

"Pwayyyyyyy!"

"Of course, of course." Morgan crawled into his lap and sat holding his plushie. "Well, hello to you too, mister."

The boy giggled again.

Inigo sighed with contentment. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to have Grandfather rule the world, and maybe it was worrying that his friends were out there… but his parents were okay, they were probably looking for his friends, and Grima had the best of intentions in mind. And he was surrounded by cute children! The bluenette would take what blessings he could get and cherish them with all his might.

"Um, is it just me, or does it look like there's something not quite right about the harbor?"

Chrom glanced at the tactician, who was frowning at Valm Harbor from his place at the railing. The bluenette stood up from the crate he'd been sitting on and scanned the approaching shore. He spotted what Robin was talking about right away. "There's a wall?! When did they build a wall?!"

"I'm guessing not when you were here," the platinum-head muttered.

Bewildered, the prince turned to Libra, who shrugged, nonplussed. "I left Valm soon after you did, young Chrom," he offered by way of explanation.

"Well, that wall isn't exactly a recent thing," Flavia remarked, coming up beside them. "For it to be that high and that long with the watchtowers? That's not a new undertaking." She growled. "Cherche sure didn't say anything about a wall in Valm Harbor."

"Maybe they had a way to speed-build the wall?" Chrom suggested. "Or… maybe…"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Whatcha thinking?"

"Maybe it was built in secret—"

"Chrom."

"Let me finish! If they had enough mages and such, and Walhart made sure everyone was keeping quiet about the project, they could, hypothetically, spell whatever work had been done to be imperceptible to everyone around them until the work was finished. Father mentioned there's a Grimleal named Excellus who resides here, so it's possible he could've helped out."

"Still." Robin pointed a hand at the structure in exasperation. "Magic wall. You know, if this were a book, I'd slap the author upside the head for being so lazy."

Chrom hummed in thought. "You do that. We'll think of a way to get around it. Flavia, what do you—wait, where'd she go?"

"Perhaps to find Lady Cherche," Libra suggested. "If I am not mistaken, here she comes now."

The sound of running footsteps hitting the deck traveled to the three, and the rose-haired wyvern rider swerved around the railing post to join the men on the poop deck. She gaped at the sight of the harbor. "There's a wall?! How is that possible?! There wasn't one when I left!"

The tactician raised his finger. "Actually, what if it's an illusion?"

Flavia, who'd followed Cherche up onto the deck, gave him a flat look. "Sure. A massive wall that stretches for miles and miles is all some big illusion."

"It is possible," Chrom pointed out. "Maybe to discourage any potential invaders like us?"

"You wanna test whether it's real or not, be my guest," the East Khan suggested, a dry tone in her voice. Everyone glanced at Robin, who rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Fiiiiiine. I'll get Mia and go." He pointed to the bluenette as he walked past him. "If we get into trouble there, you are 'porting us all out."

The blue-haired mage nodded. "I'll do my best, though you should really learn that spell for yourself sometime."

A few minutes later, the three Archaneans watched as grandmaster and dark flier took to the skies and made for the harbor. Chrom kept his gaze locked onto his brother-in-all-but-human-blood, waiting for any sign of danger. Bellemere shrank into a white speck that zoomed towards the wall, where figures milled about on top. The figures must've seen the pegasus and its passengers approach, because they all convened on a spot in front of the white speck and threw things at it. The speck danced and dodged around the projectiles, and the boy caught a flash of something hitting the wall before he sensed an urgent yank on his mind. Gathering his power, he pulled, and the pegasus popped into existence above their heads. Robin peeked his head over his wife's shoulder. "Welp, bad news is, that's a real wall," he shouted, panting with exertion. "And it stretches pretty darn far! I don't know if it goes all the way down the coast, but if we wanna land here like we planned, we're gonna have a hell of a time getting through!"

"There's no way that's happening, we don't have the equipment!" Flavia yelled back as Sumia guided the flying horse back to the deck. "We were prepared for the harbor to be crawling with Walhart's men, not walled off!"

"Okay, well, look." Robin dismounted and helped Sumia off. "We can sail around the coast a bit until we find a section without the wall—"

"We've blown our element of surprise, they'll be waiting for us," the blonde woman retorted. "Especially if it's wide enough to let horses move around—they'll spread the news about us like wildfire."

The albino frowned, taking out his map of Valm. "Hmm, let's see here… there's an island south of the eastern peninsula that we could check out. If the coast is fortified that much, we could use it as a launch point into Valm. Provided that, of course, it doesn't have any additional nasty surprises like the harbor."

The others glanced at each other. Then Flavia sighed. "I don't like changing the plan, but we don't have any choice. I'll let the oaf know we're switching course." She turned and tromped down the stairs, presumably to go find Basilio.

Robin rolled up his map and put it away in the folds of his voluminous coat. "Mia, can you get together a patrol group and work out shifts? I'd like you guys to keep an eye on the coastline as we go."

"Okay, Rob, but are you sure that's wise? Flavia just said they might learn about us, and if they see us along the wall…"

"Not if you hide in the clouds," he rebuffed. "There's a lot of them hanging low, and people don't usually look that far up anyways. You should be able to get a good idea of how long the wall is without alerting the Valmese."

"All right, dear." She kissed his cheek. "I trust you, okay? I know you can get us through this." Then the ashette led Bellemere down to the lower decks.

The tactician sighed and leaned against the railing next to where Chrom sat. "Gods, I hope we can get onto the mainland in one piece. The wall can't go all the way down the east coast, right?"

As it turned out, the wall did go all the way down the coast, to the eastern peninsula in fact. So the Archanean fleet sailed south to Yutakana, a former Chon'sin island province that was known for its lush and verdant plant life. The ships weighed anchor a ways away from the shore, and a scouting group consisting of Robin, Sumia, the Ylissean royals, and a recalcitrant Lucina took a boat through the gentle morning surf. They landed and made their way through the dense foliage, occasionally hacking away at the undergrowth. After about fifteen minutes, the group came upon a town.

"This looks like a good place to stop," Robin commented. "But remember to be on the alert. We don't know if these people are loyal to Walhart or anything."

The others gave their affirmation, and the six entered the town. Almost immediately, Chrom spotted a little café along the street. "Hey, we could go there and try to eavesdrop for information," he said, pointing the quaint little building out. "And how does breakfast sound?"

"Ooh, yeah, that sounds like a good idea," the older mage agreed. "Come on, let's ask them what the daily special is!" He threw an arm around the bluenette's shoulders and steered him towards the café, where a man stood watering potted plants. "Excuse me, sir, are you open for business?"

"Of course we—ack!" The man, upon seeing the two youths approaching him, gave a cry and backed up. "Y-You… Y-You… N-Not again!" He hurried into the café and slammed the door shut, the click of the lock sounding afterwards.

Baffled, the mages glanced at each other. "Well, that was weird," the platinum-head muttered.

"You're telling me. Does he just not like strangers or anything?"

The group went throughout the whole town, but ended up with the same result: villagers panicking and shutting doors in their faces. Oddly enough, this usually happened only if Chrom or Lucina interacted with them; Frederick met back with the others with some information for them.

"Apparently there have been bandits harassing the townspeople as of late," the king-consort reported as the six met in the square. "According to my information, the leader of the troupe has been impersonating you, Chrom."

"Oh." The prince sighed. "Well, that makes things harder on our end. Do you have any idea which way their camp is?"

The brunette nodded. "Most of the attacks seemed to come from the south, so I believe we should start there."

Annoyed, but determined to deal with the troublemakers, the group headed out of town and made for the southern end of the island. It took them almost an hour to reach a clearing in the forest where the brigands had set up camp. Robin motioned for them to get down, and the six approached the cliff overlooking the clearing, keeping behind the bushes and shrubbery. Chrom spotted a girl in silver armor speaking to a wiry-looking olive-haired trickster in the center of the camp and frowned. Was it just him, or did she seem familiar? When she stepped forward and tripped, Lucina stifled a gasp. "That—that's Cynthia!" she whispered to the others. "What is she doing with them?!"

"You tell me," Robin whispered back. "Come on, let's get her out of there! Lissa, you, me, Chrom, and Luci will go parley with them. Frederick, you take Mia and skirt around the camp. We'll try to pincer ambush them. Actually, hang on a second. Mia, you go fly for help, there're quite a bit of men down further south, and they look like they're part of this guy's gang."

"Right! Stay safe, Robbie darling!" The couple clasped hands before Sumia turned and ran to where she'd left Bellemere while Frederick headed to the east.

The remaining four made their way down the slope with the natural and abundant handholds the cliff provided. Once they got to the ground, they crouched low and slipped through the undergrowth. Cynthia appeared to still be talking to the man, so Robin held up his fingers, putting them down one-by-one as a countdown. When he put down the last finger, the four burst out of the bushes into the clearing, brandishing their weapons. "Drop your weapons! Who here claims to be Chrom, we want to speak to them!"

Cynthia whipped around and brandished her lance at them. "He is!" she shouted, pointing to the trickster. "And we'll serve justice to anyone who thinks to masquerade as him, for he is my lord Chrom!"

"Thank you, girl, but I'll take it from here," the man said, swaggering forward

The bluenette mage took one look at the man and then leveled an exasperated glance at the young pegasus knight. "Seriously?! I mean, I'm aware I'm different from your expectations of me, but couldn't you have at least tried to pick somebody who looked somewhat like me?!"

"I should be offended!" the trickster retorted. "You have a lot of nerve to claim my name, looking like that!"

Chrom clenched his fists, baring his teeth. "I dealt with this identity ridiculousness over two years ago! And I nearly paid for it! I am Prince Chrom Lowell of Ylisse, descendant of the First Exalt and the Hero-King Marth, and I will not have you smearing my name with your maliciousness!"

"Oh, yeah?! Well, prove it!" the ash-haired girl retorted.

Lucina sighed. "Cynthia, please—"

"Nuh-uh-uh! Either you're pretending to be Lucina, or…!" The pegasus knight gasped. "You've been deceived! By these fakers!"

The princess gave her a flat look. "I wish that were the case."

Robin rolled his eyes and facepalmed. "I can't believe my own daughter grew up to be this dense."

A smarmy grin spread on the trickster's face as he advanced on them. "My men have you surrounded, imposter," he simpered, "and I doubt you can prove your legitimacy as the girl suggested."

"Oh?" Chrom held out his hand to his right. A smirking Lissa drew Falchion and plopped the hilt in his hand. He lifted the sword and held it pointed in front of him. "One on one, you and me. Loser has to admit they are not Prince Chrom and takes their people off the island."

"You're on, you little twerp!" the false "Chrom" said, drawing his own sword.

The two men rushed at each other, swords clashing and clanging as both took swipes at their opponent. Chrom had expected to struggle with Falchion, given its usual cumbersome weight, and indeed the great-sword made his strikes go wider than normal. Thank goodness he had his speed and precision, which Dad believed he'd inherited from Marth due to being the Altean prince's descendant, so he dodged out of the way of the trickster's strikes. The Divine Dragon pact sang in his veins, warring with the pact of his father, hindering his concentration. This isn't helping! Stop fighting against each other and fight with me! Become one with me and each other! Divided we will fail, but united we will triumph! Please, I beg you! Become one with me!

He closed his eyes for one single, eternal moment. The powers inside of him, light and dark, hesitated—then joined together in a blinding mingling of shadow and sunbeams, navy and sky. Suddenly, Falchion felt light in his hand, perfectly balanced and weighted to suit his needs. He opened his eyes, blazing with light and darkness, and whispered,

"Sol."

The holy blade cleaved through his opponent's nondominant arm, and the bluenette felt healing energy travel from the sword to the little nicks and cuts he'd sustained in the fight. He twirled around and brought Falchion down to bear on the other man's uplifted weapon.

"Luna."

Divine steel sliced through the inferior sword and stopped a millimeter from the ruffian's throat. Chrom stood glaring at the frozen trickster, who stared back at him with wide eyes.

"Yield."

The man took a step back and gulped. "I-I y-yield," he stammered. "I-I am… not the… P-Prince Chrom. Y-You are." He paused. "And you're surrounded!" He turned tail and ran, but Frederick and Sumia burst out of the opposite side of the clearing with the majority of the Shepherds in tow. The other bandits flew into battle with them immediately, but the troupe was no match for the Archaneans. Chrom caught sight of his imposter trying to flee and nailed him with a precision Umbra strike. All in all, the battle was over in about fifteen minutes.

Cynthia, who'd been dragged aside by Lucina at the beginning, ran towards Robin and Sumia, who had paired up nearby and finished off the last of the brigands. "And you must b—That ring! It matches mine! Mother!"

"Well, hello, dear!" The ashette hugged the younger girl close, and the pegasus knight hugged her back. "It's good to see you, finally! Oh, Morgan will be so happy that we found you!"

The girl gasped. "Morgan is here?! Where is she?"

"Ah—Well, um…"

Robin patted her back. "It's a little bit hard to explain. You'll just have to see it for yourself, I'm afraid."

"Oh, man… And here I thought you guys were the fake Shepherds! Oh gods, I should've listened to Laurent when he stopped by!"

"Laurent?!" Chrom ran over to the uniting family. "Wait, Laurent is here too? Where? When did you see him?"

Cynthia shrugged. "Oh, he came by a few days ago and saw what was going on. He said I was being an idiot and that clearly that guy wasn't Chrom… Sorry, Uncle Chrom," she mumbled. "I just thought… well, y'know, he's such a Mister Smarty-Pants and everything, and I was so sure I'd gotten one over him…"

The bluenette mage chuckled, patting her head. "It's okay, kiddo, it happens."

"But you look way different than what we thought you looked like at our age! Where's all the big, hunky muscle and—"

A furious cry from Miriel had Chrom whipping his head around, and he found the mage diving into one of the tents on the edge of the clearing. He furrowed his brow, baffled. "Never in my life heard Miriel make that kind of sound before." He glanced at Lucina, who shrugged, and the five made their way over to the tent.

The reason became clear when the red-haired mage reappeared, carrying a bespectacled boy out of the tent along with a replica of her hat. The boy trembled, his wrists and ankles bound and a gag wrapped around his mouth. She set him down on the grass, and Libra rushed forward to help, staff at the ready. Taking a knife out of her belt, she sawed at the mysterious boy's bonds.

Cynthia blanched, and Lucina gasped in horror. "Laurent?! Oh, no, they found you! It's because he didn't like what you were saying, isn't it!" the former cried. "Oh, I should've listened to you in the first place! Oh, gods, I'm so sorry!"

The blonde priest undid the gag, and Laurent coughed, clutching at his throat with his still-bound hands. Libra offered him his waterskin, which the young mage took with a nod of thanks and drank from with small sips. All around the scene, Chrom could hear the rest of the Shepherds cleaning up the mess and rounding up the surviving mercenaries. Frederick stood by keeping watch with Peter next to him. Meanwhile, Miriel finished cutting through the ropes on her son's ankles and attacked the ones on his wrists, an angry glint in her eyes. Libra, too, pursed his lips, green orbs steely and hard. Then the last of the ropes broke, and the mage from the future was free. The priest helped the boy up, and Cynthia glomped on him, sobbing out an apology while Lucina hugged the two from the side.

Laurent coughed again and cleared his throat. "Do not worry, Cynthia. I should have taken into account in my calculations that the mercenary would proceed with steps to silence my accusations—or myself altogether," he amended. He glanced at Miriel, who handed him the hat she'd found with him, and a slight smile graced his lips as he took it, settling it on his head. "Thank you, Mother. Ah, you are my mother, I presume?"

The redheaded woman chuckled. "I do not doubt for one moment that you are my son, but I would like to see proof in order to validate my theory. If you would?"

"Of course. I understand, Mother." From a pouch he pulled out a ring, which matched the one on Miriel's finger perfectly. "I was gifted your hat and your ring after you… passed." He bowed his head. "They were all that I retained of you."

"I see." She nodded. "Perhaps it is not perfectly conclusive evidence… but it does not contradict my theory. I believe you."

Laurent sucked in a breath. "Oh, thank gods! Erm, is Father around? Oh, no, here he is." Before anyone could stop him, he strode over to Frederick, who gave him a bemused look. "Father, it is my sincerest pleasure to see you again!"

The brown-haired knight nodded, a sympathetic smile on his face. "I am aware. And yet, I am afraid you will not like what I have to say. In this timeline…" He sighed. "Laurent, I am sorry, but I am not your father. Your mother married Libra and had you with him."

The young mage faltered. "This… That cannot be…" He glanced at Lucina, but the princess nodded. "But… I don't understand! We were sent to our own timeline, were we not?"

A thought occurred to Chrom, and the mage-healer spoke up. "Laurent, how long have you been here?"

"Six-point-four-three days," the boy confessed. "Cynthia has been here for fourteen-point-five-two days."

The prince nodded. "Lucina here has been in this timeline for two years, and so have Peter and Morgan. Kjelle has been here for a few weeks. I think you guys are all entering the timestream at different points."

"That… That may be so…" Laurent frowned. "But then how is it that my father is not married to my mother?" The distress in his tone grew. "Is it possible we have entered the wrong timeline?!"

Peter shook his head. "I do not believe that to be the case," he said. "I proposed to Uncle Chrom that someone may have been placed far too early in the timestream, causing a ripple effect that has affected events to a degree but not to the point where the past has become unrecognizable."

Lucina scoffed. "Don't listen to him, Laurent. It's obvious we've been stranded in a trap that Grima created for us."

The others gave her odd looks at that declaration. Laurent frowned at her, then turned to the blonde crown prince. "And who might you be? You display the Brand of the Exalt clearly on your cheek, but I recall no such personage existing in my future."

The older boy gave him a sad smile. "That is because in your timeline, my mother is dead. My name is Peter, and I am—due to the timelines—your half-brother through King Frederick."

"King…? What…" Then the redhead's eyes widened. "Lady Emmeryn survived?! And she married Father, thus allowing your existence and prohibiting him from marrying Mother, who had no choice but to choose someone else to wed in order for me to be born in this timeline—or have I not been born? No, Mother recognized me, she could not have other wise."

Robin chuckled. "I like this kid. He's much quicker on the uptake! Unlike someone I know."

"Aww, Dad, come on, that was one time!" Cynthia cried. "… You are my dad, right?"

The grandmaster laughed, pulling his daughter into a side hug. "Of course you are, my little pega-pony princess!"

"Eeeeee! You even called me by the nickname you use!" she squealed, throwing her arms around him. "You are definitely my dad!"

"Huh? Cynthia?!" A certain ravenette boy streaked over to the group. "Big Sister!"

"Morgan!" the ashette girl cried with delight. But her expression quickly morphed into horror. "Morgan?!"

"Sis!" The dark flier glomped onto his elder twin. Cynthia's eyes went wide, and she pushed him off, holding him by the shoulders.

"Morgan, what in Naga's name happened to you?! Your hair's short! You're missing your assets!" She reached down and groped, but the boy squeaked and swatted her hand away. "You've gained assets! You… You're… You're a guy! You've been turned into a guy! Somebody turned my little sister into a guy!"

The boy gave her a sheepish smile. "I, um, hate to break it, Cynth, but, uh, I was born this way. I've always been a guy my whole life."

"What?!"

She glanced at the other Future Children, but Kjelle shrugged, Lucina scowled, Laurent looked panicked, and Peter nodded. The blonde spoke up. "In this timeline, your younger twin was naturally born male. There is no hex or curse on him… that is just who he's always been."

"I-Is it possible that the but-butterfly effect somehow caused this to happen to her—him?" Laurent stammered. "And… are there any others who have been affected?"

Kjelle scratched the back of her head, leaning on her lance. "Far as we know, Morgan's the only one to make a gender switch. Luci's and the twins' parents are the only couples who stayed the same; everyone else has a different father."

"W-What?" The young mage went white as a sheet.. "E-Even your parents, Kjelle?"

"Yep." She glanced back at Kellam, who gave her a wave. "'Course, both my dads are pretty cool, so… I dunno, at least they're all still alive?"

Needless to say, the walk back to the village was not pleasant for the newfound Future Children.

"I-I cannot believe this. How has it come about that all of us have different fathers?!"

"You think that's bad?! Morgan is a guy!"

"Cynthia—"

"No! I was so excited to hear that my sis was here! We won't be able to talk about girl stuff anymore! Or guys! I can't have the same relationship that I had with my sister!"

"At least you have your sibling!" Lucina snarled. "I have no idea if my brother is even alive! He could've been captured and killed already—"

Chrom's brain came to a screeching halt. "I'm sorry, did you say 'brother?'"

The future princess blinked, then gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, noohhhhhhhhh," she moaned. "F-Forget I said anything!"

Brother… she has a brother?! Lucina is going to have a brother? I'm going to have a son?! Oh! I think I know exactly who it is! "Luci, do you know of anyone by the name of Ciel?"

"Huh?" The swordswoman gave him a confused look. At that, he slumped in disappointment.

Guess not. Maybe he's one of the people who just looks like me… though—wait. Father said he was related to me, but he couldn't tell me how… is that… Was that because he hasn't been born yet? But Lucina didn't recognize his name… Although he could just be using an alias! Like Luci when she—nooooo, don't go there. Actually, I might want to bring that up. Though she probably won't want to hear it. Maybe table it for later when she's feeling better?

The group reached the fleet and got aboard the boats to sail back to the warships. Once onboard, everyone split up, Robin and Sumia taking their children to their cabin, Kjelle heading to the upper deck for some training with both Vaike and Kellam, and Frederick, Laurent, and Libra following Chrom to the captain's cabin. Basilio welcomed them inside and raised an eyebrow at the newest arrival, who slumped into a chair. "Okay, you are definitely Miriel's kid," he muttered. "Anything else we should know about?"

"Well, we stopped a bandit group with a leader that was impersonating me," Chrom commented. "The townspeople of Morimachi were pretty happy about that. Oh, and we also found Laurent here and Cynthia. She's about as worked up as Lucina got… Laurent, are you okay?"

"I-I… I'm…" The boy clutched his Fire tome, recovered from the troupe's tents, to his chest. "I am… at suboptimal functioning."

Basilio put his hands on his hips and studied him. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen, Khan Basilio," the redhead murmured. "I am one of the youngest of the Shepherds' children."

"Huh. So you are Ricken's age."

Frederick frowned, cupping his chin in thought. "Peter is about twenty-two years old, which makes you six years younger than him." His eyebrows went up. "Did I really take so long to court your mother?"

"You had a crush on Emm before you got married," Chrom pointed out. "And you were devastated when we thought she'd died. With the close relationship you had, I wouldn't be surprised if it took you a while to heal from that and move on."

Laurent nodded. "My mother always said she promised to wait for you and help you however she could. Father Libra never married in our timeline."

"Truly?" The blonde looked bewildered. "But I cannot imagine going without the joy of raising my own son! When you were born, Laurent, I felt as though the gods had come down and blessed me through you." He gave the teen mage a fond smile. "You look so much like your mother, and I am immensely glad I have been given this chance with you."

The redhead gave Frederick an uncertain look. The king-consort chuckled, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "As Kjelle implied earlier, it is perfectly all right to have more than one father. I would be honored to share that role with Libra if you so wish."

"A-Are you certain?"

"Of course. In fact, Chrom himself can tell you what it is like." Then his expression went apologetic. "Of course, he much prefers his foster father to his birth father, who is dead—"

Laurent held up a hand, eyes wide. "Wait." He glanced at the bluenette. "Prince Chrom has a foster father?"

"Yeah." Chrom nodded, confused. "A dragon named Raven raised me ever since I was four years old. He's actually staying in the castle right now watching all of the present versions of you kids—that is, when he isn't doing business infiltrating the Grimleal. He taught me everything I know about magic!"

The boy gasped. "That is…! Perhaps Peter was right, though I don't ever recall a dragon by the name of Raven in the future."

"What… what are you saying, Laurent?" the bluenette breathed, suddenly dizzy with shock.

"In our timeline, you were never raised by a dragon. You grew up as the prince of Ylisse and learned to wield Falchion instead of magic."

What… What… The prince's knees gave out, and he crumped to the floor. Frederick caught him before he hit the deck and guided him over to a chair, but he barely registered it. Laurent kept speaking, but he couldn't hear it over the roar of blood rushing through his ears. He sucked in a breath, but his chest felt too tight.

I wasn't… I wasn't raised… by my father?!

He gasped for breath, clutching his burning chest as the room swam before his eyes. Oh, gods… Oh, gods… I wasn't raised by him… h-he wasn't there… except in Peter and Morgan's future… He wasn't… he wasn't—

"Chrom. Chrom! Breathe. Breathe in deeply and out. In… and out. In… and out."

Strong hands on his chest and back. Someone's voice cutting through the descending haze?

"That's it, little brother. Breathe in… and out. In… and out."

"Chrom?! What's wrong? I felt your panic! Are you okay?! Do you need my help?!"

… Father's voice? In his head. Through their bond. Red hair in his vision.

P-Panic… attack… learned something… disturbing…

"In… and out. In… and out. Good job, Chrom. A few more repetitions, and! In… and out. In… and out."

"What disturbing thing? Is someone hurting you?!"

What?! No! His father's words snapped the bluenette out of his spell, and he found himself to be breathing easier. "Oh… Thank you, Frederick." His brother-in-law nodded and patted his back. I'm fine, Dad, Frederick just helped me out of a panic attack. I learned that you didn't raise me in the original timeline. "Dad sensed my feelings, so just let me really quickly calm him down."

"All right."

"… That's what… that I didn't raise you?"

Y-You know about it?

"Well, I, um, didn't expect you to learn it now, but where did you think I come from?"

Chrom gasped. "Laurent! I-I think you might have just figured out what caused our timelines to be different! Raven came from your timeline to this one!"

Laurent's eyes widened. "He could do that?"

"Well, he is an extremely powerful dragon who has experience with portals," the bluenette explained. "I've read his notes on them before and the spells for them in his spellbook."

"I see! Then he is the reason all of us from different futures exist! We are in the right past, but he came here first! I must alert the others—"

Basilio pushed him back into his chair. "Hang on, boy. I understand this is big, serious stuff you're figuring out, but don't you have to figure out about them, too?" He pointed to the king-consort and the war monk. "You have two dads to choose from, though I'd say pick both of 'em if you can."

"Oh. Yes. Right." The teen mage sighed. "Th-This is all so much to think about and take in… I must process it accordingly before I can come to a decision."

Frederick nodded. "That is perfectly acceptable."

"And no matter what, I will always be willing to lend you my aid," Libra added. "Even if you cannot see me as your father, perhaps you can try to see me as a friend. A confidant, if you will."

"I am certain that Peter would be happy to accept you as a brother, seeing as he has only cousins and no siblings," the brunette continued. "He told me once that he often wished for a brother or sister of his own, and he would be delighted to dote on you."

Laurent gazed at both of them, then nodded, tearing up. "I-I s-see…" He sniffled. "Then… I n-need time, but… w-will you both h-help me?"

The knight and priest smiled at him. "Of course," they agreed.

Dabbing at his eyes, the teen stood up and reached out to both men. They engulfed him in a hug as he wept for several minutes until he fell asleep. Together, they lifted him up and carried him from the room.

"Well, now." Chrom glanced up at the West Khan, whose eyes looked suspiciously wet. "As a father, I gotta say, that really warms the heart."

The prince wholeheartedly agreed.

And that's a wrap! Next up: Into the Unknown! The League lands on the west side of the eastern peninsula and goes inland. The Shepherds make a new ally. More children are found. And Chrom gets a very pleasant and scary surprise!

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

"Did you REALLY have to reference that dumb song?"

It is the BEST Frozen song ever, sue me. Also, I am officially screwing with canon, so even I have little idea what's next campaign-wise.

"Is that really a smart idea?"

Hey, I said it and An Preson Peepul confirmed it: I write best when I do original stuff. I'm not throwing it completely out, just... the order of the plot. And certain plot points.