Italics = Thought
I do not own Fire Emblem.
Cross published on AO3
"Why are we stopping?" Camilla asked aloud as she got to her feet, hands already going for her axe.
This should be good.
Selena sighed. Why now? Why now of all times did he have to be awake?
Why, you are my beloved daughter. I need to keep you safe…Plus, do you have any idea how boring trawling through your memories is after the Nth time around?...I never knew you had a crush on No-
Selena frowned. He didn't need to bring that up.
Not-Her-Father simply laughed. All you'd need to do is use your birthright, and the problem goes away.
Selena shook her head and she followed Camilla out. She would not use Ignis. She would not let it take her.
You will. Eventually. One day you'll be so overwhelmed by fear that you will use it. All it will take is time. Not-Her-Father said, his voice sounding sad and honest.
Selena wished it didn't. It made it hard to disbelieve him. Although she suspected that that was the point.
"Selena? Are you coming?" Camilla's voice pulled her out of her stupor.
"Y-Yes…yes, sorry."
Camilla beamed. "Don't worry dear, we'll deal with this and be in warm beds before you know it!"
Without another word, Camilla climbed out of the carriage, Beruka followed her, like a deadly, short, shadow.
Selena let out a sigh, and, grabbing her sword, headed out after them.
Corrin was grinning as they came to an unscheduled stop…although since it was part of his plan, he supposed it was actually scheduled.
"Well….here we go then." Corrin said. "Azura came through for us. Just as normal."
"As you say, Master Corrin." Jakob said, already falling back into the 'correct' way to address his master. "It would likely be prudent to go and assist Prince Xander. To keep up appearances."
Felicia and Flora nodded in agreement.
"A good idea. Let's depart then." Corrin said, and stood up, and allowed himself to relax, and fall into his usual carefree look, and threw open his carriages door. He calmly walked out, his servants soon falling into step behind him.
"Time to get to work."
Corrin was unaware which of the girls spoke, his attention was already on the woman facing Xander.
Xander had to give this 'Rinkah' credit. Making a demand of the Crown Prince of Nohr was certainly very brave….but also very stupid.
"Forgive me, My Lady. I must deny that request"
Xander heard the sound of feet walking toward him from behind, he chanced a glance, and smiled as his siblings and their retainers started to form rank behind him.
"And we have you outnumbered." Xander said. "…Please, surrender. As an enemy royal, I assume you that you and your men will be treated fairly."
Rinkah shook her head. "The Flame Tribe must be beaten, Prince Xander."
Xander let out a sigh, and drew Siegfried. "So be it."
ELSEWHERE…..
The sands were whipped by a night storm. Great curls rose and fell, concealing a certain cave entrance.
Inside, the small cave system was full of people. The last five hundred residents of the now dead country of Plegia. Soldiers, medics, civilians and children. All, for one reason or another spared by Grima.
Of note were a tall, silver haired woman wearing dark, slightly revealing clothing, and a shorter pair of figures.
One has sat in a corner, sweating profusely and being attended to by a number of medics, the other stood near the cave mouth, a tactician's cloak draped over their shoulders, its hood up and shadowing their face from view. He was keeping watch.
"How does it look, nephew?" The tall woman asked as she walked over. The guards stood at attention at her approach.
"…We will likely only have cover whilst this sandstorm persists. When it drops, the Ylissean Army will find us. Even with Lucina, merciful as she is, leading them, many of our people will be slaughtered." He conceded finally. "I doubt the fact she and I were to marry will affect her judgement in any way, sadly."
"A shame. You and her were quite cute together, Marc."
The boy grinned, and pulled his hood down. His hair was red, and wild with curls. His skin, lightly tanned, was littered by small scars, and his eyes were a shade of maroon.
He was Marc, named after the famed tactician. Sole son of Robin and Cordelia, and current 'monarch' of Plegia. And he was tired.
"Either way, Aunt Aversa, it looks like this is..as they say…it. ..How is Morgan?"
"Close. It's a shame that Owain of hers has disappeared. I am sure he'd want to see his 'Heroic spawn of heroism'."
Marc let out a laugh, which died far too early.
Aversa took a long look at her nephew, and sighed. She turned to a guard.
"You. Have my Pegasus fed, watered and ready to fly by day break."
"Yes ma'am!" The guard said and dashed off.
Marc raised an eyebrow. "…Do I want to know?"
"You will have all the time myself and my Pegasus can buy you. I have done such ill, first for Validar and Gangrel, then for Grima. Allow me this small redemption….your majes-"
Marc silenced her with a hand. "…Auntie. It's alright. If you need permission, you have it."
"Thank you, Marc."
Marc watched his Aunt walk away, and slumped against the cave wall.
He and his people needed a miracle.
But what sort of miracle existed here?
Apologies for the delay. I've been feeling really quite unwell for the past few weeks, so have been unable to write. Still haven't completely rid myself of it.
But! Up next, the first 'named' chapter...
"THE LAST STAND OF AVERSA"