Chapter 14

The Longfort was a relic of an age when war and strife were far more widespread than they were during the present time. Constructed by the Altean royalty to act as a barrier between them and the barbarian tribes of the north and then captured by said tribes centuries later, the Longfort was a testament to the wounds of the past. It was a towering edifice, stretching the length of the continent and separating the southern lands from the frozen northern forests of Regna Ferox. In the last hundred years or so, though, the Longfort had consistently become more of a peaceful symbol as the continuous warfare became limited to smaller border-skirmishes, its gates open now more often than they closed.

Being posted as the Longfort's Wall Warden was a coveted position, usually held by a close relative of the reigning Khan. Raimi had earned her position as Warden, though, under the rule of her Aunt's rival, the previous Khan Basilio. He'd been so impressed with her skills and leadership potential he'd appointed her almost on the spot during the Khan-Meet ten years ago. It had been an honor. A blessing.

But at times like these, it felt like a curse.

Holding the tarnished, ancient golden blade Ragnell in her hands, Raimi felt a pain she'd only felt once before, when her home village had been burned to the ground by bandits. Outwardly, though, she was the same cold, ruthless warrior that she always was; the same Warden that her men needed her to be.

"I see," she said evenly.

She was in the Longfort's central command room on the Ylissean border, surrounded by her lieutenants and their aides. A messenger had arrived from the capital, bearing new orders for her.

And the sword. Her Aunt's sword, taken from Valm back during the war so long ago…

"This is… this is an outrage!" one of her lieutenants growled.

"The Ylisseans have gone too far this time!" another added.

"We all knew this would happen!" one of the older ones sighed. "As soon as they quelled Plegia and Valm they were bound to turn on us, too."

"Like hell!" one of the younger lieutenants snapped. "We're allies! There's no way Exalt Chrom would have condoned this!"

"Enough!" Raimi shouted above them.

"We're not really going to follow these orders, are we?"

Raimi glanced back at the table covered in an old cloth map of the Longfort and the terrain around it. Sitting atop the map were their new orders, directly from Khan Idallia.

"Close the border. Repel any and all invaders. None are to enter or leave Regna Ferox. All dissenters are to be executed."

"We don't have a choice," Raimi spat. "Our laws are clear. Idallia is Khan. Close the gates, increase the guards posted and make preparations for a siege."

There was silence for a moment before one of Raimi's oldest subordinates, Trida, limped forward, the scarred old man giving her a piercing glare.

"There's always the option of you becoming Khan," he said, his voice carrying no hint that this was a suggestion.

"We have our orders," Raimi repeated, stepping away from the table. "I will not do anything more to disturb the Khan-meet."

She stopped in the doorway, her grip tightening on Ragnell's hilt until her knuckles went white beneath her thick armor.

"But once the Khan-meet is over…" she said, trailing off.

She didn't need to finish her statement. All of the men and women present knew what she would say. The promise of impending violence in her voice made it obvious.

All of the assembled Lieutenants grinned ferociously at their Warden's promise. Weather they fought for or against the new Khan, as long as they got to fight they would be happy. That was just their way of life.

To the south, in northern Ylisse, Arya let out a sneeze and groaned, rubbing her running nose and bundling up a little tighter beneath her new travelling coat. She had never been any further north than Themis; it got cold there during winter, but never this cold. She could see her breath! Her hands and feet were numb, even through her thick gloves and socks!

Galle seemed equally displeased with the cold weather, glowering as he pulled the thick scarf he was wearing a little higher on his shoulders. Mari and Van seemed to be unaffected, though, both still wandering around with their coats open and their usual travelling clothes underneath.

Robin's Shepherds were travelling north now, after meeting with Frederick in Southtown. The older tactician had been revitalized by the information the big knight had brought him, urging them towards the Longfort as fast as they could move. They had just spent another day walking and the sun was beginning to set. At the front of the group Robin gave an irritated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Curse these shorter winter days," he grumbled. "Alright, we'll break here for tonight! Off the road, draw some water and start a fire! Not you, Arya! You've got meditating to do."

The girl in question gave a defeated sigh as the other young tacticians around her grinned and began setting up the camp. As Van passed he even gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"But it's so cold!" she complained. "How am I supposed to focus?"

Robin shrugged, patting her on the shoulder as well and giving her a grin of his own as he passed her.

"Think of it like tapping mana lines in Plegia," he suggested. "You really think you'll be able to stop and focus on a battlefield?"

Arya sighed again as he left her behind, trusting that she would follow his instruction as he went about setting up the camp.

Even though Robin preferred to travel light, at this time of year the tents were a necessary evil. You simply couldn't sleep outdoors without one in this cold, and even with one it was a pain. The only saving grace was that he still got to share a tent with Lucina, who was honestly like a human-furnace in the colder months.

Grinning at the thought, he joined his wife in erecting their modest tent, the same off-green colored canvas as the rest of the group's. Arya and the other young tacticians all shared one, Owain and Severa had one of their own, and the others usually bunched up in the remaining two. Except for Kowrowa and Ita, who preferred to shift into their wolf forms and sleep snuggled up with Anna's draft horse.

He glanced up as Lucina pulled the poles up into position, her face a concentrated frown as she struggled to slot them all together. Robin stepped forward, smiling as he held one in place, letting her move around to the other side and properly anchor that one. She did so with a grateful smile, and the tent was set up in no time.

Robin groaned, lazily tossing his pack into the small tent and stretching his arms above his head. He jumped a little when Lucina prodded him in the ribs frowning with one eyebrow raised slightly.

"What?" Robin asked, wilting guiltily.

"You know what," she said, crossing her arms.

With a sigh the tactician's shoulders drooped. He ducked into the tent, picking up his discarded pack and setting it carefully off to the side before placing Lucina's, which she helpfully passed to him, next to it. Then he laid out their bedroll, placing the hard, lumpy pillows carefully atop the end that their heads would rest at. Finally, he placed the small oil lamp on the opposite side of the tent as their packs, making sure it had oil in it before finally stepping back out into the deepening twilight.

"Happy now?" he asked, spreading his hands a little.

Lucina responded by smiling radiantly and rising up onto her toes to plant a small kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, dear," she said.

Robin grinned a little as they both moved to where Van was struggling to light a fire without the use of magic in the center of the small, impromptu campsite.

Robin stole a covert glance at his wife as they approached the soon-to-be fire. Even after so many years together she still looked almost exactly the same as when they had met; slightly older, her face a little more lined, but she still held herself the in the same confident, regal air that she had when she had been masquerading as 'Marth' and he had been an amnesiac with two days' worth of memories. Of course, after so much fighting in such a short space of time, in Valm and Plegia, they both had their share of scars, too. Robin more so than Lucina, of course.

"Let's go on a vacation once this is over," Robin suggested suddenly.

"What?" Lucina asked.

"Seriously," he persisted. "You, me and Emm. Anna's family owns a resort in the Southern Islands, right? We can sit back, relax, spend some time as a family."

Lucina just stared at him blankly for a moment. This wasn't the first time that his incredible leaps of logic or thought processes had brought her up short. After a moment her face grew into a tired smile as she nodded.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," she said eventually. "I'm sure Emm would love to see the beach."

Robin grinned, wrapping his hand around his wife's own gloved one.

"Ah, the beach," Severa grumbled as she and Owain walked past them to the fire. "Sounds nice."

Owain gave them an apologetic grin as they passed, and Robin and Lucina both chuckled.

"Well then, why don't we all go?" Robin suggested. "After all of this it would be nice to take a break."

Van perked up from where he was still kneeling next to the struggling fire, grinning and laughing.

"A tropical vacation?" he asked. "Now that's motivation!"

"I won't turn down a free vacation," Anna added, her head emerging from the interior of her wagon.

"Oh! Oh! Sandcastle! I want to build a sandcastle!" Fae practically shouted as she ran into the central area.

Galle and Mari followed, the Plegian tactician glancing down at the smaller Chon'sinian woman.

"Wanna go to the beach?" he asked brusquely.

Mari glanced up at him, the ghost of a smile playing across her usually impassive features before she finally gave a slight nod. Galle shrugged, looking away as he tried to hide his own grin.

"Guess we're in," he muttered.

Lucina's grip shifted a little in his hand, and Robin glanced down to see her smiling approvingly up at him.

"Then it's settled," he declared.

A small cheer went up from the assembled Shepherds.

"I suppose we should ask Tharja if she and her mages want to join us?" Robin suggested to Lucina. "It's the least we could do after getting them wrapped up in all of this."

"Tomorrow," she said. "We rendezvous with them tomorrow. Ask her then."

As she spoke she sidled up to him, wrapping her arm around his.

After the jubilation at the promise of a tropical vacation died down Van glared at his failed fire and rolled his eyes. With a flick of his wrist he lit it magically, the damp wood crackling as the magic flames caught almost instantly.

"Sir Frederick would kill me if he saw that," Van muttered as the others began to crowd around the warmth of the fire.

The evening progressed as they usually did after that. Dinner was served; a thick and hearty stew made from the dwindling supplies they'd bought a week before. Chess was played between the tacticians, and firewine was drunk to stave off the cold. Eventually a shivering Arya trudged towards the fire, the aching growl from her stomach finally proving too much of a distraction in her attempted meditations.

Finally, they all retired for the evening, Robin and Lucina being one of the last pairs to make their way back to their tent. Severa had been almost ecstatic about the promise of a beach vacation, and had talked Lucina's ear off making plans for their group while Owain and Robin watched on.

Now, laying in their bedroll together with numerous blankets and Robin's coat thrown over top for extra warmth, Lucina sighed and snuggled herself closer to her husband, resting her head on his shoulder and throwing an arm over his chest. Robin automatically moved to wrap his arm around her, and she let out another contented sigh.

It was somewhat strange the way Lucina had been so clingy the last couple of weeks; usually she was far more reserved with public displays of affection. He had been waiting years now, watching her slowly open up and relax. It had been a slow process, especially given what she and the others had been through. She wasn't just his wife; she had been the Ylissean Exalt in her own doomed timeline, the ruler of a people sentenced to a slow death at the hands of Grima and his Risen. Finally winning peace in the past, she and her comrades had eventually realized they were stranded and opted to integrate into the peaceful time period. It had taken some adjustment, but Robin had been there for her the entire time. The birth of their daughter had certainly driven home for Lucina that this wasn't, nor would it ever be, her forsaken future. But the timing of her finally seeming to relax…

"Are you okay?" Robin asked into the top of her head. "You've been very… uh… loving, lately."

Lucina scoffed, shifting a little against him.

"I am fine, dear," she assured him.

After a moment in which they both lay still, the only sound the crackling of the dying fire outside and the soft murmur of the night conversations in the other, nearby tents, she continued.

"I am… happy," she said at last. "We are going home. This, all of this business with the Rommels, is nearly done. I… I have not looked forward to going home like this since I was a child. Just having a home that I look so much forward to returning to is…"

She trailed off, and Robin nodded his understanding. It was a new sensation for him, too. He had slightly less than a decades' worth of memories, despite being nearly three times that old now. After his vagrant lifestyle of hopping from one battlefield or quest to the next, after waking up in the field with Chrom and Lissa standing over him, it felt nice to be returning home.

He shifted, planting a loving kiss on the top of his wife's head.

"I would also very much like to see Emm again," Lucina sighed. "She looks to have gotten… so much bigger…"

Robin let out a sigh of his own. Lucina often joined him when he checked in on Aversa and Emm with his scrying hexes. It was rough, having been away from home for so long, but at least Emm was being cared for. And funnily enough Aversa was showing a surprisingly maternal side that Robin hadn't known existed in his sister, something he would clearly need to tease her about later. But the thought of finally wrapping this up and getting to go home filled him with so much anticipation he doubted he would even be able to sleep.

"She looks just like you," he said, smiling a little. "We'll have to bring her some souvenirs from the Coliseum to say sorry for being gone so long."

"Indeed," Lucina agreed.

Their conversation broke off as Lucina let out a tired yawn.

"We'd best get some sleep," Robin suggested. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

The next morning the Shepherds were up bright and early, as the sun's first rays were beginning to peak the horizon. There was a lot of tired grumbling as they shuffled around the camp, their breath misting in front of their faces in the frigid air, but they each had their own morning routines to take care of.

Galle's, in particular, consisted of training before breakfast. Sometimes Van or Mari joined him, more often Mari than the former Ylissean Knight Cadet, but more often than not she just liked to watch him. It had been a little strange at first, the Chon'sinian girl insisting on sitting in on his training. But after the first few sessions she began to speak up, offering advice on his stances and movements, helping him improve minute details that were the flaw of being mostly self-taught. It was because of Mari's helpful insights that Galle had become confident enough to utilize a mixture of swordplay, unarmed strikes and magic on the battlefield, flowing between the three.

This day was like any other in that respect; Mari sat on a log, just outside the camp, watching as Galle ran through the drills he'd created for himself. He was focusing on his unarmed skills that morning, striking with closed fists and knife hands at unseen enemies, his bare torso sheening with a coat of perspiration from his efforts despite the early morning chill.

Of course, Mari had always insisted that he train shirtless. So she could easier watch his movements, she insisted. To help with his temperature regulation and flexibility, she insisted. Galle had simply taken to pointedly ignoring the little blush she got every time he pulled his shirt off.

He threw a few more punches and kicks at phantom enemies before letting out a tired sigh and rotating his shoulder a little. His arm had been fully healed after he'd used his trump card in Saiqat, and he'd even started re-applying the tattooed magic circles and lines onto his arm. But that was the problem; fresh tattoos stung. He ran his hand over the puckered scars and the swollen red flesh around the fresh ink, marveling at how fast he was finishing the job this time. It had taken him almost six months the first time he'd done it; now he was half done, and it had barely been one month.

"Does it still hurt?" Mari asked.

Galle smirked a little, dropping his hand.

"It stings a little," he admitted. "What, worried about me?"

"Always," Mari said, totally serious.

Galle sighed, shaking his head a little.

"You know it's no fun teasing you sometimes."

Mari stood slowly, a knowing grin rising to her usually expressionless face. Galle had to admit, even a little grin like that made her look absolutely radiant. When she smiled? It struck him speechless.

"Far be it from me to deprive my Galle of his fun," she said playfully.

"You have been spending far too much time with a certain red-haired Ylissean lately, haven't you Princess?" Galle quipped, closing the distance between them.

Mari grinned shyly, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning closer still.

"I think I've been spending too much time around a certain Plegian boy," she corrected him.

"Hey, Galle! You out here!? Up for a little- OH DEAR SWEET NAGA, GUYS!"

Galle and Mari practically leapt apart as Van shouted, spinning on his heel and making a sound halfway between laughing and retching.

"C'mon, it's too early!" he complained. "At least put up, like, a sign or something as warning! And why are you half-naked, Galle!? It feels like it's about to start snowing any second now!"

Mari's face turned red, her eyes wide as she spluttered, struggling to compose herself. She settled for darting off, brushing past the two men as she practically ran back to camp.

"I will prepare breakfast!" she said as she bolted.

Galle frowned, directing his ire on the Ylissean man bouncing his odd sword-staff on his shoulder. Van gave a shrug, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry?" he tried.

"I hope you came out here looking for a sparring partner," Galle growled, reaching for his sword. "Because I'm about to beat the crap out of you."

Van scoffed, twirling his sword-staff as they began to circle each other in the small practice space.

"You know, you and the Princess make a great couple," he chuckled.

"You're just jealous I got a girlfriend first," Galle seethed.

"Ooh, low-blow," Van laughed. "Alright, I'd say I'm motivated now. Have at you."

The Shepherds finally hit the road just after dawn broke. Robin set a decent pace, eager now to be done with all this business and go on his vacation. Some of the others grumbled, Van and Galle chief among them as they limped along with the group, but everyone felt the same way. They were ready to be done with this business.

Severa walked next to Owain and Brady with a little more bounce in her step than usual, secretly excited at the prospect of getting to see Noire again. When the world had been saved all of the Shepherds that had come back from the future had gone their separate ways, and many of them had found it to be something of a shock to suddenly have the people they had spent almost every day with since childhood suddenly gone. Just as Owain had been excited when they had picked up Brady in Themis, Severa was excited at the prospect of seeing her friend again. The time they had spent together in Grima's Fall had been too short.

They probably wouldn't get to spend much more time together again this time around, either, but just getting to see the timid archer-turned-mage always lifted her spirits.

Unbidden a slight grin rose to her face at the thought of what was waiting for them once the last of the fighting in Regna Ferox was finished.

A tropical vacation! Better, a tropical vacation with Robin footing the bill!

"Yer smilin' that dangerous smile again," Brady grumbled.

The hunched priest was watching her warily out of the corner of his eye, his perpetual scowl still in place despite the years of peace-time they had been enjoying.

"Don't like that smile," he went on. "Means trouble. Usually for us."

Owain laughed, cutting off Severa's biting retort.

"All we're missing is Inigo and it'd be just like old times!" the blonde swordsman cried. "My sword-hand thirsts at the prospect of us reunited with our allies!"

Where Severa and Brady were both bundled under their thick traveling cloaks against the cold, Owain walked around in his usual yellow clothing. Much like his father, Lon'qu, Owain had a displayed a surprising adaptability for the frigid climate of Regna Ferox, despite his heritage being Ylissean and Chon'sinian. It had irritated Severa a little at first, until she'd realized that it meant she got two cloaks to keep the cold at bay. Then she started encouraging it.

Brady scoffed, bouncing his healing staff against his shoulder a few times.

"Yeah, right. The two'a you together again I can do without. Ya always dragged me into the worst damn situations…"

"Please!" Owain laughed. "You loved our adventures! Name one time that you weren't having as much fun as-"

"Valm," Brady cut him off, deadpan. "Charging with Flavia an' the Feroxi. That wasn't fun."

"But you did it with us! And we drank and laughed it off that night!" Owain said defensively.

"I went with you idiots because I'd just healed a gash in Inigo's arm and pulled three arrows outta your sorry hide!" Brady grumbled. "Swear to Naga… Can't leave you idiots alone fer a second…"

"For once, we are in agreement," Severa sighed. "Remember Origin Peak? When the two of them got cut off from the main force and we had to go and rescue them?"

"Heh, yeah!" Brady guffawed. "Man, Morgan was pissed. Ain't ever seen Yarne fight like that before, though. And the time-"

"Down, sword hand!" Owain shrieked, cutting the other two off. "Argh! I can't control it!"

He held his wrist firmly downwards, shaking and making a scene as he attempted to 'restrain his sword hand'. Severa and Brady sighed in unison, exchanging a glance.

"Do you want to, or shall I?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Ladies first," Brady shrugged, bouncing his staff again with a grin.

Severa stepped over to Owain, her hand flashing up and slapping the back of his head in one smooth movement. Owain blinked a few times, quieting as the trio continued to walk.

"Really," she muttered, taking his 'sword hand' in hers. "All that sword hand stuff doesn't embarrass you, but old war stories do?"

"Owain Dark does not get embarrassed," he muttered back, pouting.

"Then why are you blushing?" Severa asked, quirking a brow.

Owain grumbled wordlessly, facing away from her again as she and Brady laughed.

Six robed and hooded people stood in the shade of a great pine tree, waiting at a crossroad in Northern Ylisse for Robin and his Shepherds, uniformly shivering miserably in the cold mountain air. In the distance the mages could make out the shape of the Longfort, their next destination, stark against the horizon.

Tharja and her Dark Mage acolytes were early, but wherever Robin was concerned the older Dark Mage always was a little excitable.

Beneath her heavy black hood Noire sniffled miserably, the cold weather making her nose run and her cheeks hurt. She wouldn't complain, though; after everything she and her friends had been through in their own future and then here in the past fighting Grima she was tougher than that.

Or so she liked to tell herself, anyway, she reasoned with another sniffle.

Fortunately, she wasn't the only one not faring well in the cold mountain air; the other acolytes, with the exception of the unshakable Badru, were sniffling and shivering just as much as she was. Asim and Lateef were lingering a little closer to each other than usual, attempting to share their body warmth, while Femi shuddered beneath her travel cloak and her robes. Even Tharja herself was frowning a little more than usual, but their teacher didn't sniffle or shiver. She was far too composed for that.

Noire couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of getting to see her friends, Severa, Owain and Brady again. Little Arya, too; she had taken quite a shining to Robin's new apprentice, and the two had become good friends despite the years separating them.

"Grima it is cold!" Asim finally blurted. "How do the Ylisseans and Feroxi live like this!?"

"Usually indoors, I would assume," Femi said, her voice shuddering. "Next to a big, roaring fire…"

"Stop complaining," Tharja snapped. "You call yourselves Dark Mages? It's only a little cold."

Noire resisted the urge to smirk as her mother turned, the sway of her robes revealing the old travelling clothes Robin had bought for her when they had travelled Regna Ferox after the first war with Plegia and Gangrel, rather than her usual body-suit. Even the veteran Dark Mage herself was no match for the forces of nature, it seemed.

Noire sniffled again, glancing over her shoulder at the Longfort. She and the others had only seen it briefly as they had passed through on the return trip from Valm; after traveling back from the future Noire herself had ended up in Regna Ferox, so she hadn't needed to pass through it before the war. She was admittedly curious about it; a structure that old, made for the specific purpose of war, would surely hold some interesting dark resonances.

The sound of beating wings made the six mages look up as a large dark raven descended, perching in the trees above their heads and looking down at them. Noire instantly recognized her mother's familiar, and with a large smile completely out of place on her usually serious face Tharja turned towards the southern-most road.

"They're here," she said, drawing her hood back.

Noire squinted, a small grin of her own breaking out when she saw the shadows in the distance coalescing into distinct shapes. People around a wagon, marching quickly towards them and to the Longfort in the distance.

As the got closer one of the people marching leapt up onto the wagon, hanging off of it with one hand and waving.

"Look alive, mages!" Robin shouted. "We're not stopping! Fall in!"

As Robin approached the Longfort, a small column of warriors, soldiers and mages at his back, he couldn't help but feel a rush of nostalgia. If the circumstances had been better it would almost have been like the first time he'd come here, with Chrom and Lissa and the old Shepherds so long ago now.

As they came out of the mountain pass and began the descent to the open gates of the Longfort Tharja and Lucina came alongside him. The scent of the forests of Regna Ferox blew past them on the wind, the cold gust making Tharja grimace and wrap her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Robin smirked, shaking his head a little. After so long in the north he barely noticed it.

Lucina slowed at his side, watching the walls of the towering fortress intently.

"Something's wrong," she said, frowning.

Robin and Tharja both looked up now, too, and something was indeed amiss. A flurry of activity had broken out on the ramparts, and it looked like a number of Feroxi soldiers were beginning to collect in the open gate.

As the Shepherds approached Robin strode forward a little, the Wall Warden and his old comrade from the wars in Valm and Plegia, Raimi, stepped forward in her full, thick armor.

"Hold," she ordered, crossing her arms.

Robin quirked his head a little. She was acting strange. Raimi was always a serious and dour woman, similar in temperament to Lon'qu, but she seemed visibly flustered. Angry. Robin immediately felt his stomach clench up as a cold hand of fear gripped his chest. He couldn't help but wonder when she'd started to carry a sword, and why that sword's pommel looked so familiar.

"Raimi," he called. "What's going on?"

"By…" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing with a sour look on her face. "By order of Khan Idallia, the border is closed."

"No…" Robin gasped, his eyes widening.

"Unless, of course…" Raimi went on, stepping forward and pulling a familiar golden sword out of the sheathe on her back. "You best me in single combat. Then, by our laws, you may pass. Just like last time."

Robin looked first at the Feroxi Warden, then at the strangely silent squad at her back. Judging from the tense silence coming from the warriors, none of them were exactly happy about this either. He looked back at the stunned expressions on Lucina and Tharja's faces, all three of them seemingly lost.

"Raimi, what's happened?" he asked, stepping forward again. "Talk to me, dammit!"

The Warden snarled, brandishing Ragnell and pointing it directly at Robin's throat.

"Draw your blade or retreat!" she warned. "On my honor the only way you're getting through this fort is over me!"

Robin stumbled back a few seconds, thinking quickly. The Rommels hadn't been that far ahead of them; he knew they would eventually make for Regna Ferox, but…

"What happened to Flavia?" he asked, his voice low.

"I'm holding her sword and taking orders from that merchant bitch," Raimi spat. "What do you think?"

Robin nodded slowly, swallowing. As he stepped forward again his hand dropped to his sword's hilt, but he froze when Lucina stepped forward.

"Lady Raimi, please!" she said. "This is foolishness!"

"Foreigners have trampled enough of our laws," Raimi ground out. "This is one I'm not budging on."

The two women glared at each other for a moment before Lucina nodded, drawing Falchion.

"Then I would face you as Robin's second," she declared.

"Lucina, what-" Robin started, trailing off when Lucina turned.

"Please," she said in a quiet voice. "You have already done much on our journey. Let me do this."

Robin swallowed and nodded, stepping back with Tharja. The rest of the Shepherds and Dark Mages crowded around, Arya moving to the front to stand with Robin. She looked up at him curiously, and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Watch closely," he said to her. "This is your fencing instructor's true strength."

Lucina tossed her travelling cloak to one side, Mari scrambling to pick up the garment for her old teacher as the time-traveler and the Warden faced off.

"This brings me no joy, Raimi," Lucina declared, saluting her with her longsword. "But know that we are pressed for time, so I will not hold back."

"Bah, you're just like your father," Raimi spat. "You Ylisseans all talk too much!"

With that Raimi rushed her, holding Ragnell in a high grip. Robin had only ever seen the older woman fight with a spear, but judging by the way she held Ragnell she was no slouch with a sword, either.

But Lucina was Chrom's daughter, and they were both prodigies of swordsmanship.

Lucina caught Raimi's first blow, turning the older woman aside and letting her momentum carry her past while she danced around her. Raimi spun, leading with Ragnell, but Lucina stepped back, striking upwards with Falchion one-handed and opening a deep furrow on Raimi's pauldron. The Warden growled, charging again with Ragnell held at a mid-guard this time, but Lucina was like water, flowing around the blow and running Falchion's razor sharp blade along Raimi's weaker-armored side. Blood glinted on Falchion's blade as the two women both turned, Raimi's face a pained scowl. Lucina wasn't even breathing heavily.

"Do you yield?" she asked.

"Like I said," Raimi grunted, bringing Ragnell back up to a mid-guard. "You want through, you go over me."

Lucina gave a barely perceptible sigh before darting in low, beneath Raimi's guard, and stopping Falchion's tip just short of piercing Raimi's throat. A small trail of blood fell from where the blade's point touched her flesh, and Raimi chuckled.

"Robin beat me quicker," she said. "Meaner, too. Knocked my ass into the dirt."

Lucina slowly lowered her blade and stepped back, Raimi sighing and rubbing the small cut on her throat.

"We've grown since then," Lucina said.

"Yeah," Raimi sighed. "Come inside and I'll… explain what's happened. And welcome home."

Arya glanced around the crowded hall as Robin's Shepherds milled about, unsure what to make of the news they had been given. Robins tactician students, both current and former, had chosen one corner of a long table at the end of the room near the great wooden doors leading to the ramparts

Khan Flavia, current Khan Regnant and ruler of Regna Ferox, had been assassinated by the Rommels.

She felt a shudder pass up her spine at the thought that the people who had hurt her in the past had such incredible reach. Wondering if she would truly be safe anywhere she glanced up at Galle sitting next to her and gave a slight, involuntary giggle.

Galle, the moody tactician that had been almost like an older brother to her for the last few months, had fallen asleep on Mari's shoulder. The other tactician looked caught between being incredibly embarrassed and lovingly comfortable with her boyfriend sleeping on her, more than likely leaning more towards embarrassed with Van snickering at the sight now, too.

Four of the Dark Mage acolytes came over to where the tacticians were sitting, Noire opting to remain with Severa and Owain instead.

"You guys feel a little left out of the loop, too?" Asim asked.

Arya and Van both glanced up, Mari blushing even more furiously as she averted her gaze.

"Yeah, little bit," Van said with a grin. "Pull up a chair. Get comfy."

Asim, Lateef and Femi all did so while Badru crossed his arms and took up position behind them. The sounds of chairs being pulled over rough stone floors apparently disturbed Galle, and with a snort he shot up.

"Sorry," Lateef chuckled. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Galle blinked a few times, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before glancing questioningly at the still blushing Mari. With a shrug he leaned back in his own chair.

"It's fine. We have orders yet?" he asked.

"Nope," Femi sighed. "And all the others are busy moping, so…"

"That's because they all knew Khan Flavia personally. They all fought together, and she even went with them in the final battle against Grima. She was… a Shepherd, and they're taking it personally."

Everyone looked up at Fae's sudden appearance, and the manakete grinned sheepishly. The tone of her voice, though, was a mirror of the sadness emanating from the other side of the room. The small group sat quietly for a moment before Van spoke up.

"I never met her," he said, almost reverently. "But the Knight Cadets would tell stories about how she and Khan Basilio faced down an entire division of Walhart's best riders, and walked away. It was a cautionary tale for us not to underestimate unmounted troops."

"I only spoke to her a little," Galle sighed. "Back in Silva. All I can remember thinking is 'this is the leader of Regna Ferox?' But then I saw how she led the people, and inspired them just with her presence… It made me think, you know?"

Mari nodded from his side, a little more composed now.

"She taught me much," the Chon'sinian tactician said simply.

"She was always fair with Plegians," Femi said in a small voice. "She traded with the Plegian Companies when no one else would. I guess we owe a lot to her in the desert."

"I never met her," Arya admitted. "But she sounds… amazing."

"She was," Fae said sadly.

"I can't believe I let this happen," Robin groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"This isn't your fault," Lucina said comfortingly.

"I could have killed him at least twice," Robin snapped. "But I let him live to try and get to whoever was pulling his strings. Now…"

He, Lucina, Tharja, Raimi and one of her lieutenants, an old and scarred man she had introduced as Trida, were sitting around a wide, circular table in the Warden's command room, occupying one corner of the massive keep above the Ylissean Gate. Robin sat slouched in his chair, head resting in his hands as the full enormity of what Maris had done, and what he was planning to do, finally sunk in.

"It'll be war," Robin said eventually. "If he succeeds and takes power as the Khan Regnant for his sister, it will plunge the continent back into war."

"He won't live long enough," Tharja growled dangerously.

"I agree with the mage," Raimi added in a neutral tone. "But what do we do now? You're the tactician. Give me a plan."

Robin glanced up, finally dropping his hands as he sat up straight. He could mourn and blame himself later. For the first time in years he felt a stirring in his breast, a righteous anger he hadn't felt since Valm. A spark that would ignite his rage and burn Maris' ambitions to dust.

"We'll go ahead," Robin said, standing. "Maris has a small army between us and the Coliseum? We'll cut the head off their command chain and leave them for you to clean up. Come behind us, secure the roads. Make sure the people in the villages are safe. Then join us at the Coliseum. I get the feeling he's not out of surprises yet."

Robin let out a heavy sigh before reaching into his coat and pulling out something wrapped in cloth, dropping the bundle to the table. With careful, deliberate movements he unwrapped it and bared a small nugget of some kind of black ore.

"I don't know what this is," he said finally. "But it's heavily infused with Grima's essence. And Maris' entire suit of armor is made out of it."

"What!?" Raimi shouted, slamming her palms on the table and rising to her feet.

Lucina gaped, going pale as she shied away from the nugget, switching between staring at it and at Robin in confusion. Tharja, for her part, didn't seem surprised in the least. She just continued to glare at the little nugget the way she'd been glaring at everything else since arriving at the Longfort.

"This is why we need to stop him," Robin declared. "I don't know… what he's capable of with it. I don't want to find out."

"So we stop him," Raimi growled. "What are you waiting for? Get your ass back out there!"

"We came ready to fight," Tharja reminded him.

Robin nodded, turning to look at Lucina. She met his gaze, a momentary flash of fear passing through her eyes before her expression hardened and she nodded as well.

"Grima is dead," she said eventually. "Whatever this is… Maris is just feeding on his leftovers like a parasite."

"So we stop him," Robin nodded. "Before he can hurt anyone else close to us."

AN2016: This story kinda stalled for a while there… Dammit all, I realized I needed more new content to make Flavia's death seem a little heavier and more meaningful, as well as to add a little more depth to what's going on in Regna Ferox. Sorry it took me so damn long to upload this chapter. Fates, she is a harsh mistress. I could also list off all the other games I've been distracted by, but let's not waste time. *cough*Doom*cough*Twilight Princess HD*cough-cough*

A shorter chapter, and again, I'm not entirely happy with it. Little bit of focus on our couples in this chapter before we dive back into the serious stuff. Yes, the joke with Van has been done a thousand times before. You know what? I like the cock-block joke. I do. It's a little tropey, but I feel like it's something that actually happens in the world. I know it happens, I've done it and had it done a thousand times.

You know what's awesome? Seeing the term 'Wing Commander' in reference to the leader of Ylisse's Pegasus Knights show up now in almost every other Awakening fanfiction. I'm like 99.9% certain I came up with it in 2013 with Invisible Ties. And seeing others using it makes me feel like I've really left my mark on the fandom. I could be wrong, but even still, it's nice to think I left a mark.