CHAPTER SIX

Smile

I used to think that no one could tell the future.

At each moment we're given the opportunity for one million possibilities, and it's up to you which path you choose to branch off into. It's up to you to secure your place there. That's what I thought.

But even though I know what's going to happen, even though I'm from a future where I couldn't change anything, that's exactly what I'm doing.

I'm fighting, until the day comes that I get to branch off into a future that sees clear skies, glimmering oceans, and…an intact royal family. I want to prevent the deaths of my loved ones, and of their loved ones, and of my people as the princess of Ylisse.

"Lucina?"

"Hm?" I brace myself on the edge of the cliff, cocking my head to look at my new visitor.

"What're you doing out here?"

It's my brother.

He's smiling, like usual, his brown eyes soft as they settle on my face, and with a certain amount of awkwardness he slumps down next to me.

"Marc," I breathe. "I'm…not thinking about much. I'm okay, though."

"Hm?" he let out an elongated sigh. "But it's supper. It's your turn to help with the cooking. Did you forget?"

I tear my eyes away from his and look out into the distance, at my kingdom, Ylisse. We're almost home. One more day of walking and fighting, and we'll be home.

Even though I know it's not my real home, that my real Ylisse is waiting for me to save it in the future, after spending so much time overseas in Valm, the sight of that palace on the horizon, flanked by the cosy, tight-knit city that I love so dearly, warms my weary heart.

I allow a smile to play on my lips and nod.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

He furrows his brow softly and leans back to look up at the sky.

"What is? The clouds? Mm, yeah, I guess. But it's almost night time, right? Clouds at night are pretty annoying—can scarcely see the stars on a night like this."

I laugh at him, and with that innocent smile still on his face, he tilts his head perplexedly.

"I meant the castle, you cad."

"Ohh. Yeah, it's pretty. Mother's been telling me that it's far too large for her, though," he said.

"Oh?"

"She told me that every time she walks out into the hall, the serving girls stop to bow and it makes her feel so uncomfortable. I don't know why she doesn't simply ask for a cup of tea so they leave her alone, if it bothers her so much, but it's Mother, so she has a good reason." He grins.

He's not the brightest, my brother.

"Still," he mutters. I turn back to him, but he does not meet my gaze. His eyes are fixed on the horizon, his eyebrows lowered, his smile harbouring a melancholy feel to it that I have never seen in him before. "It would be nice…to live there. With Mother. With Father. With Woody and Auntie and Uncle… With you, and Gerome…"

I blush, but he takes no notice. He continues, "…and…me." He closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. "But… Hey, you'll make that all better, won't you? That's why you're fighting, isn't it?"

"That's right. I'll make everything better, with Father at my side. You and I, the great children of Chrom the Great!"

I expect him to join me in my laughter, but his eyes flick down to his lap and he shakes his head.

"I'm not so sure," he murmurs under his breath. "You and I. We're so different after all…For example, you actually belong in this timeline, don't you?"

"What?"

His smile broadens and he laughs the statement off. "What an idiot!" he chuckles, knocking against his head and making noises to make it seem hollow. "Of course we'll make it better! After all, Mama and Dad are there! Anyway, hurry up back to camp. I'm starving!"

He shuffles back to his feet, but as he makes to move away, I catch his wrist.

We stay like that for just a second, the material of my gloves awkwardly slipping down his hand as I struggle to maintain a hold. We stare at each other, neither one of us knowing how to break the silence.

He was probably right. We are so different. We share the same mother and father, the colour of our hair is the same shade of navy blue, we both love our country and our friends and our family so much…but I never realised before now that Marc isn't like me. I knew our personalities were far from the same, of course, but there's something else.

I told you before, didn't I? My memories of my brother aren't exactly clear. His existence flickers in and out of each timeline sporadically, and the memory of him fades with every day.

My mother and my father. One of them dies, or is wounded, then there is no Marc. His very existence relies on my duty to protect my parents. It relies of my duty to protect the world from Gimle.

A wave of guilt washes over me.

My mind rushes back to the moment I held the Falchion in my hand; when I pointed it at my Mother, and when she told me to… But that wouldn't be fair. Not only to me, and to Mother, but to Marc, my little brother, whom I know next to nothing about.

"You do belong here," I assure him. "And when we fix this, you'll be there. And we will all live together. You and I."

He graces me with that smile of his again. That sweet, sweet smile. The smile that brings back floods of memories of my childhood alongside this little boy.

"Of course," he chirps, then gently pulls out of my grasp.

The Princess of Ylisse

"Your Majesty!" gasps a serving girl, clapping her hands to her mouth before bowing repeatedly. "Welcome home, my lady."

To my surprise, Mother curtsies back. "It's a pleasure," she chuckles heartily. "…Could I see her? Is she awake?"

The servant nods. "Of course, my lady. She's just been fed."

Mother's eyes are alive with excitement. Her cheeks are flushed red, and she launches down the corridor. I trail behind her cautiously.

The serving girl opens a door some way down the hall for us, and we enter. Out the corner of my eyes, I spot the girl's eyes following me. She looks confused, unsettled by my presence.

Who is this girl? Why is she here with the king's wife? My heart sinks just a little.

As I step past her into the room, I am graced by the sound of my mother's gentle lullaby. The one I remember from childhood. I follow her deeper into the room, where I find her leaning over a baby's cot. A middle-aged serving woman is sitting on a stool beside it, smiling. When she sees me, she bows her head.

"Who might you be, child?" she croaks.

Mother looks over to me, standing very confused in the middle of the room, and lifts the infant from her cot into her arms.

"This is," Mother starts, gesturing to me, "my daughter, Lucina."

I am filled with a great deal of pride. To hear my mother introduce me as such…

The woman is very confused, but decides not to press any further, and leaves us in peace.

Back to her daughter—her real daughter, of this time—Mother sings softly, rocking back and forth.

"I'm so sorry I left you," she whispers. "Did you miss me? Do you remember Mama?" She looks over her shoulder at me. "Come here, Lucina."

I oblige, shuffling closer.

It's the first time I've seen the baby up close. She's half-asleep, round face nestled into Mother's arm. Still, she seems so happy. I wonder if she remembers that it's her mother's embrace she's in, or if she's always this content.

"This is Lucina," she coos, leaning down to kiss the infant's forehead.

"…That's…" I breathe. "…Confusing…"

"Not really. Not if you think of each other as two different people. You're just my…older daughter. Much older daughter."

We laugh together briefly, and she presses another kiss to little Lucina's head. She then beckons me closer, and kisses my forehead.

Being back in Ylisse, a rush of emotions overcome me. Everyone is so welcoming, even though I'm a complete stranger to them. The city is so pleasant, the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, the lively chatter of citizens rings out across the land.

And now, I've finally met my past self. A pleasant, if somewhat sleepy, child, who adores the company of her mother. When I told Mother that, she remarked, "Kind of like you, hm?"

I guess she's right.

Father and Marc joins us after tending to some initial business.

Mother hands little Lucina over, and with some hesitation he lifts her into his arms. He struggles to hold his own baby and panicks every time she stirs.

"What if I drop her?" he gasps, and Mother laughs. "She's so cute. Ah, you're just like your daddy…"

"She is, isn't she?"

"She has a weird nose," says Marc.

"H-Hey!" I shout, rather indignantly.

They hold us close, and we stand together—the five of us, for a while.

This is what I want.

This is exactly what I want.

I won't use Morgan. I just won't.

Oh man, I can't wait for the Australian release! I wish I had an American 3DS so I could play it in English, but I'll have to be patient.

Anyway, since the English release, there've been a lot of people checking out this story and I'm so grateful!

Thank you for all your reviews and comments; it's all greatly appreciated. It makes my day when I get an email that tells me someone had reviewed this fic.

I update whenever I get the chance or inspiration, so please be patient with me! Also, I won't be using a lot of the localised names, for personal reasons, but place names and character names that I actually like I will be using. This may be confusing for English-only players, but I hope you'll manage.

Wood is "Owain" in English. Marc is "Morgan" in English. That's all you need to know this time around.