Lucina took a deep breath as she fidgeted with the mask in her hands, sitting within a tent in the Shepherds' camp as she kept watch over her would-be father. Pit had carried the unconscious Exalt to safety and left him in her care while he departed without expressing why, only saying that he would be back soon. Meanwhile, Kuro had taken up watching the humans while Henry tried to keep Rufure calm, assuring her that her husband would be fine as long as he rested for a time.
After quite some time, Chrom finally stirred and groaned heavily, and Lucina looked up and made her way over to kneel down at his side as he blinked open his eyes, his disoriented gaze coming to rest on her. She smiled softly and set her mask aside, then took one of his hands in both of hers.
"Lucina," he croaked, his confusion evident in his eyes.
"I suppose I owe you an explanation," she said as she squeezed his hand. "Yes, I am Lucina. But, as I'm sure you're aware, I'm not the same as your daughter that you left in Ylisse. I'm from a different time."
"What do you mean?" he wondered as he tried to sit up, but she gently forced him to stay down.
"Do you remember a guide during the war with the Grimleal that helped you defeat the Fell Dragon?" she asked, and after a moment of consideration, he nodded slowly.
"Yeah, vaguely," he replied. "But no one can seem to remember who the heck he was."
"That was me," she told him. "I came from a future where Grima had been resurrected and nearly destroyed us. Naga gave me and a few others the chance to go back in time and change the future. But… because of the laws of time, we couldn't really stay. We were given an option to either simply fade from existence or live a life of ambiguity, sort of fading into the background."
"Wait…" he blinked. "So, you're my daughter from another timeline?" She nodded.
"Yes. In my time, you were killed and left me Falchion, and I did everything in my power to stop Grima. But… It couldn't be done without you." He tried to sit up again, and she didn't try to stop him this time. Then, catching her off guard, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace, and her eyes watered before she could even think about stopping them.
"I can't believe I didn't know," he said softly as he stroked her hair gently, and her tears spilled over as she returned his embrace and buried her face in his shoulder.
"Oh, Father…" she blubbered. "I've missed you so much…" He hugged her a bit tighter for a moment longer before releasing her and smiling gently.
"So, how did you get tangled up in this mess with gods and angels and all that?" he asked lightly, and she let out a weak laugh.
"Er… The short answer is that, for all intensive purposes, Pit is my husband," she said, and he stared at her.
"Your husband." She nodded. "That Pit. The god of Light." She nodded again, a grin forming on her face. "My daughter from another time is the wife of the god of Light."
"Yes," she said as she tried not to laugh. "Pit actually came down from Skyworld to help us fight Grima, though he did so while passing himself off as human. And… whether we intended to or not, we fell for each other. I was allowed a place in Skyworld- the heavens- and granted some form of immortality." He stared at her as she tried to explain everything, a helpless smile on his face. "Oh, and we have a daughter named Aegle." He was silent for several moments, his smile fading.
"I'm a grandfather?!" he blurted, and she curled over, shaking with laughter before she regained her composure.
"I guess it depends on how you look at it," she replied. "Also, she's almost sixteen years old." His eyes blanked, and he let his head hang with a heavy sigh.
"If you're trying to make me feel old, it's working," he said as he looked up again. "But you barely look twenty. How do you have a child that old?"
"I all but stopped aging when I took my place in Skyworld," she explained. "I think I've matured a bit, but not by much." He nodded a few times.
"Huh," he huffed. "So, you said you weren't the only one who came back in time. Did Morgan come with you?"
"He did," she agreed. "I'm not entirely certain where he is right now. Unfortunately, I couldn't find him before we departed for Valm. But he's become a brilliant tactician just like Mother."
"That's good," he said. "Speaking of your mother, we ought to go say hello, don't you think? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you." Lucina's smile faded, and at the sight of it, so did Chrom's.
"I can't do that," she said dully. "I technically shouldn't have told you about who I am. We were told that we couldn't have any direct contact with our parents else we impact the natural flow of time. That's why I've passed myself off as Marth."
"Ah," he nodded. "I see." He looked down a moment, then back to her and placed his hand under her chin gently. "Regardless, I want you to know I'm proud of you, Lucina. You've done so much that I couldn't even imagine. Whether I'm technically your father or not, you're still my daughter in some way or other." She smiled softly, and he wiped away a stray tear that escaped her eye.
"Thank you, Father," she replied. "Now, if you feel up to it, I'm sure Mother would want to know that you're okay. But…" She retrieved her mask and placed it over her eyes. "Please, remember. As far as anyone else knows, I call myself Marth." Her heart ached at the trace of melancholy in his eyes, but he nodded.
"Right," he agreed. "Will you give me a hand?" She helped him to his feet and pulled his arm over her shoulders, and the two shuffled outside the tent into the evening air cool with the winds of the coming winter.
"Glad to see you're up and about," Kuro greeted as he approached. "I was just coming to check up on you."
"Er, thank you?" Chrom replied. Kuro cleared his throat.
"Right, I guess we haven't been introduced. My name is Kuro. I'm Pit's brother."
"Ah," Chrom nodded. "Then it's an honor to meet you."
"Chrom!" He looked up at the call of his name and smiled as he withdrew his arm from Lucina's shoulders and embraced his wife as she let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank the gods you're okay."
"I'm fine," he replied. "Are you? That guy hit you pretty hard too."
"Yeah, I'm okay," Rufure nodded. "I've got a better resistance to magic than you, remember?" She smiled playfully and he kissed her forehead.
"So, where's Pit at?" he asked as he glanced around.
"Up here!" came a reply, and several heads craned up to find him flying in toward them, a dark figure hanging from his arms. He sort of carefully dropped the figure before circling around and landing himself, and the figure brushed himself off after a rocky landing in the dirt.
Both Chrom and Rufure stared at this newcomer with shocked gazes. His face was mostly hidden by the cowl he wore, part of a coat they were all too familiar with. It was identical to the one Rufure had worn when Chrom found her sprawled in a field several years back. He was otherwise dressed rather plainly, wearing a dark blue tunic and white leggings with brown boots and dark brown gloves.
"Who are you?" Rufure asked as she stepped defensively closer to her husband. The figure didn't reply, but glanced briefly at Pit, who nodded.
"I'm… Marc," he replied in a cautious voice.
"I brought him to help you," Pit elaborated. "He's got quite a brain for tactics- maybe even rivaling yours, Rufure. And he's pretty good with swords and sorcery." Rufure's hesitant, even accusatory, glare didn't soften, but Chrom smiled slightly as he observed the man calling himself Marc. He glanced to Lucina, her expression nearly unreadable behind her mask, but she nodded ever so slightly.
"I understand you're probably confused by the coat I wear," Marc noticed. "I'm not affiliated with the Grimleal, if that's what you're wondering. This coat has… sentimental value to me."
"Will you lower your cowl?" Rufure asked. "I would feel more inclined to trust you if I knew your face." Marc took a deep breath and hesitated.
"Very well," he finally replied, and removed the hood slowly to reveal his dark blue hair swept around his hazel eyes and cut around the nape of his neck. Chrom tried to keep his smile from growing while Rufure stared at him.
"You seem… Very familiar," she thought aloud. "Perhaps we've met before?"
"I'm afraid not," Marc shook his head. "But I swear I'll do everything I can to help you battle these monsters attacking us."
"Thank you," Chrom said with a dip of his head. "We place our faith with you, Marc." Marc's eyes glimmered with brief curiosity as he nodded.
"Glad to hear it," Pit said as he stepped forth. "I hate to say this, Chrom, but things have taken a turn that I didn't exactly anticipate. We need to head back home for the time being to rethink our plans." He paused and lowered his voice. "I think it's time I took this fight to Hades."
"So, you're leaving," the Exalt said, and Pit nodded.
"Don't worry, though. I'm going to put an end to this as soon as I can. And once I do, your people should be safe."
"We understand," Rufure assured him. "Be safe, Lord Pit. And all of you as well."
"Luck be with us all," Pit replied. He glanced around and his companions joined him before they all took to the skies and quickly soared out of sight. Once they had departed, Chrom returned his attention to their new tactician.
"Marc, can I speak with you alone?" he asked, and Marc stared at him.
"I… don't see why not," he replied, and Chrom gave Rufure a quick reassuring hug before half walking, half limping back into his tent with Marc following. "What can I do for you, Lord Chrom?"
"Is it true?" Chrom wondered as he turned back to Marc. "Are you… Morgan?" The tactician's eyes widened in alarm.
"Wh-what?" he stammered. "I told you- my name is Marc. I… Er…"
"It's okay," Chrom chuckled. "Lucina- as in the Lucina that just left- told me about the whole time travel thing."
"Then… you know?" Chrom nodded. The tactician said nothing else, but took a deep breath and removed his glove to reveal the Brand of the Exalt marking the back of his hand. Chrom's smile widened and he took a step closer.
"You really are Morgan," he said softly. "My son." Morgan smiled as well, and he closed the small distance between them and hugged his father tightly.