Chapter 7

The banquet lasted long into the night, with the party moving to the Castle's ballroom once dinner had been completed. The nobles played music as the many couples within the army danced with one another, and, after some fierce prodding from Chrom, Lissa, and Nathan, Frederick asked Cherche to dance with him, who accepted of course.

As Nathan and Lissa swayed across the tiled floor, Nathan looked around at the other couples nearby. There was, of course, Chrom and Sumia, with Chrom trying his best to ensure Sumia stayed on her feet. Donnel and Nowi, along with Ricken and Panne, could also be spotted, the couples dancing close to one another, with Ricken, Donnel, and Nowi all making faces at each other while Panne rolled her eyes. Lon'qu and Maribelle were across the ballroom, and the tactician noted that Lon'qu was a surprisingly good dancer, no doubt having been to his fair share of events like this since his engagement and wedding to the noblewoman. Even Basilio and Flavia had joined in the festivities, dancing together.

Nathan brought his head back to reality, swaying to the music with a beaming Lissa. The tactician smiled back at his wife, tightening his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Lissa moved in, resting her head on Nathan's chest.

"You have to promise me something…" Lissa whispered. Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"When this war is over…and we make it home…a night like this, again."

The tactician grinned from ear to ear. "I promise."

The next day began bright and early, with the Shepherds and Feroxi army loading their things onto the convoy and setting off towards Port Ferox. Nathan rode in his own separate section of the convoy, filled with his books and maps, and currently, maps given to him by Basilio and Flavia, outlining the port and area around it. Chrom sat in the caravan as well, on a pile of books, polishing off Falchion while Nathan worked.

"…Mind if I take a look?" Chrom inquired, getting up and peeking over Nathan's shoulder.

Nathan looked up at the man. "…Okay, well what do you see here?"

Chrom put his hand on his chin. "Well, you've drawn some x's here, and circled these spots, I'm not sure what these scribbles are… oh and it says 'formation c' right here…yeah, I don't really get it."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "That is the general idea. The notes on here are made for my eyes only, so that if the enemy were to somehow see our battle plans, they can't truly know what our plan is." He then reached down, pulling out a worn book from under a stack next to Chrom. "However, in case you ever need it, I wrote out the explanations to my maps all down in this book, and how each formation and tactic written works, and what everything I circle or draw an x on is supposed to mean-"

"I think I get the idea." Chrom quickly replied, cutting Nathan off, who nodded. The tactician then tilted his head slightly.

"So what's got you so anxious?" He pressed. It was pretty obvious to him at this point that Chrom was far from his usual calm before battle, normally never questioning the tactician.

Chrom let out a long sigh. "It's just…it feels like we just finished the last war, and now we're headed back to another one. Sometimes I think I'm dragging these people back to battle, ripping them from their families…and I know what Emmeryn would think of this. She would never allow this to happen…and I just can't help but feel that I'm not the type of Exalt that Ylisse really needs."

Nathan set down his things and turned around, staring at Chrom for a moment before punching the Exalt square in the gut.

"O-ow! What the hell was that for!" Chrom yelled, clutching his stomach. Nathan grimaced, waving his hand vigorously.

"I'll admit, it probably wasn't the greatest idea to punch you in one of the spots where you're covered in armour…" The tactician replied with a groan. He then set his hand down, glaring at Chrom.

"Anyways, that was for you thinking like an idiot. First off, no one is here because of you, they're here because they care about you, and came out of their own free will. We asked people to return to fight with us, but no one was forced to. And on top of that, you didn't start this war. We are here because there is a Gods damned continent to defend, and we'll all get killed or enslaved if we don't do something about it. And finally, you are not Emmeryn. Maybe she would not have done something like this, but sometimes, like I just said, war is necessary. From what we've heard, this 'Walhart' is not someone who can be negotiated with. Your path is not dictated by what others think, or have done, or will do. We all forge our own path."

Chrom sat down and stared at Nathan for a moment, before smiling.

"You're pretty good at motivating people, you know that?" He quipped.

"Kind of in the job description, I think."

Chrom stood up, offering Nathan a hand and helping him up.

"I shudder at the thought of where we might be if we hadn't found you in that field one day, friend."

The two turned around as Ricken ran into their caravan, clutching his mage hat to keep it on his head. "We…we're here. Just thought I'd let you know." He wheezed.

Nathan nodded. "Thanks, Ricky. I'll be out there in a moment." The tactician turned around and started to fold up the maps he had spread out, and grabbed some tomes along with the worn strategy book he had shown Chrom. The Prince, however, remained in the caravan as Ricken ran off.

"…Shouldn't you be heading out there?" The tactician muttered. Chrom laughed.

"Not quite yet. After the speech you gave me, you're going to be the one giving the pre-battle speech today." Chrom told the tactician.

Nathan grinned at the man as he strapped his gold and black blade to his back, and the two walked from the caravan together, ready for battle.