A/N: Really sorry for the long wait. I've had a terrible time writing anything lately, not just this. I absolutely intend to keep going with this, but the update time might not be what it once was.

Chapter Fourteen: Closely Held Secrets

The sun was setting, bathing the entire area in a lurid orange glow. It gave Demon's Ingle to our east a truly demonic look, and it fit well in my opinion. I never wanted to return to the volcano. All that remained of our army had successfully withdrawn from it, leaving us with perhaps three thousand altogether. We had come out of our battle with Yen'fay's army with more than any of us had expected, and I believed Destin's choice of battlefield had played a vital role in that.

The tactician, Chrom, Say'ri, and I were all sitting in a circle on some rocks we'd found. Regardless of how tired everyone was, we couldn't make camp until we knew what the situation was. The Pegasus Knights had gone north to find that out, and some had already returned to inform us that the dynasts had retreated further west. Even if Walhart were to force a battle with us, they would not be joining it.

I didn't know what we could possibly do if Walhart were to attack us now. No doubt he had his best troops with him, and in our exhausted state he would easily ride us down. All we could do was hope that he'd had enough for one day. Even one night would give us the respite we needed to gather ourselves.

"I still cannot fathom why my brother decided to fight for Walhart," Say'ri said despondently. She gripped the sheathed form of her brother's sword tightly. "Whatever Yen'fay's reasons were, they died with him." As she finished speaking, a flash of golden light appeared a few feet away.

"And what a death it was!" exclaimed the man who emerged from the light. He was stout and pudgy, with ugly violet hair and impossibly gaudy robes of crimson. On the whole, he reminded me of a toad. A smug, self-satisfied toad. "Did you see it? The mixture of pain, longing, and acceptance on his face? Oh, I suppose not. What a man! He held onto his 'honor' until the very end!"

"Excellus!" Say'ri shouted. She was positively quivering with rage, and seemed on the verge of drawing to strike at the odious man. "Explain what you just said!"

"Oh? You really didn't know?" The squat man said with a mock air of dismay. "Yen'fay hid the secret well, I suppose. Dear Say'ri, everything your brother did was for your sake. I gave him a simple choice: he could join us or he could watch his beloved sister die painfully. He knew he couldn't keep you safe any other way, so he sold his beliefs and his kingdom to do it. You were the chain I used to choke Yen'fay into submission."

"…No…" Say'ri whispered. "That can't…"

"Oh, but it is!" Excellus gave a derisive laugh. "Even knowing that you would hate him for what he did, Yen'fay gave in anyways. I have to admire the man, just a little. He held his end of the bargain admirably. Too bad, now that he's dead I don't have a reason to let you live any longer. I suppose it will have to wait, though."

Say'ri sank to her knees, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why…?"

A memory from the battle of Steiger drifted across the front of my mind. The dynasts' men had mentioned a toad-like man, the one who had issued the gold bounties on our heads. If this was the same man… he deserved death a hundred times over for what he'd done to Say'ri and her brother alone, never mind the rest.

"Ah, that's a weight off my chest. I should tell the truth more often." He gave another ugly chuckle. "Or perhaps not. Well, I'll see you all soon enough… if only your heads." Another flash of golden light just like the first one, and Excellus was gone.

It was only then that I realized my hand was gripping Falchion's hilt so hard it hurt. Never before had I hated a man as much as I did the sore excuse for one that had just left. He would die before the end of this war; I'd make sure of that, even if no one else did.

"Ah, gods… I have wronged him irreparably. My own brother…" Say'ri began to cry quietly, clutching the sheathed form of Amatsu. My father walked over and knelt down beside her. No doubt he had some words of comfort – I understand he'd always been good with such things, and I'd seen that myself since coming to the past. I felt like I was intruding on something private.

Destin had a somewhat pained expression on his face. I walked over to him. "You don't look very surprised," I said, carefully keeping my voice low.

"I'm not," he replied in an equally controlled tone. "I knew the instant Yen'fay's army took the field against us which side he was really on, in his heart."

My eyes widened slightly. "How could you have known?" I demanded.

"It's all in the tactics," the strategist explained. "Remember that Yen'fay had absolutely no reason to engage us. All he needed to do was last long enough for Walhart to arrive and we would've been finished. He knew that, and even then he still chose to confront us directly. He didn't attempt any kind of evasive maneuver or hold a defensive line, instead charging us without any strategy at all." He sighed slightly. "Do you understand, Lucina? Yen'fay was trying to lose."

"Back there, when you were so confident that he would attack us at Demon's Ingle… that's why? Because you had already figured that out?" He nodded. "But then… couldn't you have-"

"Done something?" He cut in. "What, exactly? Even with his army shattered and no one to answer to, Yen'fay still fought us to the death. Honestly, I think he couldn't forgive himself for the things he did while trying to protect Say'ri. All he wanted was to die so that both his sister and his kingdom would be free. I don't agree with him, but that's how he saw things."

There was really no arguing that. It all made a horrible kind of sense. I couldn't judge Yen'fay for what he'd done – if someone that important to me was held hostage, what would I do? I wouldn't know unless I was put in that position. It'd be for the best not to mention this conversation to Say'ri, though; she was dealing with enough pain and guilt without knowing the full extent of the matter.

Cynthia came in for a landing nearby, and she wasn't alone. At first I didn't recognize her passenger, but after a moment I realized it was Flavia. She didn't look well at all; numerous wounds marked her body, and she was clearly exhausted. The fact that she was here without Basilio made me uneasy. She dismounted and made her way over.

"Walhart has turned back," she announced, her voice surprisingly strong considering her condition. "I don't think his army will stop short of the capital. He smashed us good, though, and…" she looked down. "…I failed. Basilio fell despite my efforts. He…"

That was an unpleasant shock for all of us. I'd hoped that Basilio's fate could be avoided. Any change between my future and this time could provide the key to preventing Grima's return. Perhaps there had been no other way that would have gained us this victory; perhaps only Basilio could have held Walhart off long enough to give us the time we needed to defeat Yen'fay. Nonetheless, it was still a blow. There was no replacing a man like Basilio.

"…The fighting was fierce, and suddenly there he was," Flavia said. "It's kind of a shock, seeing Walhart for the first time. He's about as imposing a man as I've ever met. He went straight for Basilio. I managed to deflect a fatal blow for him, and I thought for a moment we had him. Basilio gave him everything he had, but it barely scratched him. Gods, I've seen him cut through boulders with a swing like that, and Walhart just shrugged it off! Basilio knew he was finished, so he told me to run… and I did."

"You did all that you could," my father assured her. "Walhart would've killed you as well if you'd stayed. It's hard to bear, but Basilio's sacrifice bought us the time we needed. Now the momentum has shifted in our favor."

"I know, I know," the East Khan replied, shaking her head sadly. "I just… damnit, that oaf! Dying like that…" She reached into her armor and pulled something out. "There's something else. Basilio gave me this before he died. I have no idea why he hid it for this long; but the oaf always did love surprises."

The crimson Gemstone shining there in her palm was a match for the two already adorning the Fire Emblem on my father's arm. This was Gules, believed lost generations ago. I'd had no idea that it had found its way to Regna Ferox and into the hands of the West Khan.

Chrom took the stone reverently and placed it alongside Argent and Azure. If all went well, then a victory over Walhart would secure Vert as well, which left only Sable unaccounted for. Even Lady Tiki didn't know where the stone was. Wherever it was hidden, it would have to wait a little longer.

Knowing that Walhart was retreating allowed us to make camp in the valley, finally giving our tired army a chance to recuperate. Watches were done in minimal numbers so that everyone could have a decent night's sleep. We would have another several day march north to the capital, where Walhart would presumably be waiting for us. Hopefully by the time we arrived the army would be in much better shape than it was now.

The next day's march was largely uneventful. We moved slowly, given our current circumstances and knowing that enemies could still attack us. It was still possible that Walhart would decide to turn around and fight us, or even the dynasts might harass our rear. I didn't see Say'ri at any point that day; I hoped she could find some consolation in the battle to come.

I challenged my father to a sparring match that night once we'd made camp. We'd had matches a few times before, but as our struggles against the Valmese had become more intense there'd been little time. I think I was beginning to see what Destin had meant at Demon's Ingle when he'd told Say'ri that Chrom couldn't lose against an opponent who faced him honorably. Every time I thought I was getting closer to winning he turned the tables on me again. At first I'd thought his immense strength was what made him so difficult to fight, but I'd since learned that he could be lightning fast as well. I definitely got the worst of it, and once we were done I took some time to wash.

As soon as I finished, I went looking for Destin. I knew he'd be somewhere in the camp's training ground, probably sparring or teaching one of the other Shepherds. I don't know how he managed to find time for all the people who were learning something or other from him, myself included. That he was so determined to help others improve themselves was one of the things I admired so much about him. But at the same time he never seemed to leave any time for himself. Self-sacrifice had limits, but between Destin and my father they seemed determined to find them.

It didn't take long. There he was, showing Ricken the finer points of some magical technique – it was beyond me. Miriel, Laurent, and Tharja were all nearby, watching the lesson intently. Whether they needed it as well or were observing for another reason, I didn't know. A smile formed on my face as I watched him correct the young mage's errors. So familiar. It might've been me he was correcting on some point of our lessons.

Ricken cheered when he finally performed the exercise correctly, though he was sobered by the fact that he'd accidentally set his hat on fire. As he was hurriedly putting it out, Destin turned slightly so that his eyes met mine. He smiled as well; not the amused grin I was used to seeing, but a genuine smile.

My heart skipped a beat, and even though he immediately returned his attention to the lesson I still felt ridiculously happy. A memory drifted to the front of my mind from long ago, playing out even while I stood and watched.

"Mother," I began nervously. Sumia was brushing her Pegasus, a common sight, but she would always make time for me and Cynthia no matter what.

"Yes, dear?"

"How… did you know you were in love with dad?" The last came out in a rush. I really couldn't think of any easier way to ask it. Of course I could bring up anything with my mother, but some topics were just difficult to handle no matter how mature the people involved.

Sumia glanced over at me, a smile appearing on her lips. "Hmmm… well, there isn't really any one thing that made it clear. It was more a mixture of a lot of things. Where did it begin? Probably with how he looked. Your father was an extremely handsome man, and I don't know what woman wouldn't be attracted to the kind of regal, dignified bearing he always had. His personality, too; he never once dismissed me or looked down on me despite the fact that he was a Prince and I was a clumsy commoner. He made me feel like I belonged, and that's something that's stayed with me ever since then."

She looked off into space for a long moment, still absentmindedly stroking with her brush. I had seen that look in her eye plenty of times before while talking about my father.

"Everyone has their joys and their sorrows," my mother continued. "But they always seem larger, more important somehow, when someone you love is involved. That day I saved Chrom from the spears of the Feroxi was the happiest day of my life. It was such a little thing, but it meant the world to me. Like I had shown that I could be his equal, that I was worthy of him. But when Emmeryn died and he was injured and depressed, it was like the world was suddenly a darker place. I had trouble waking up some mornings because I didn't want to face the world with him so broken."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing at all," I said, taken aback.

"It might seem that way sometimes." Her smile became nostalgic. "I remember my clumsiness was always the worst when he was nearby. One minute I was fine and the next he walked in and I would start blushing and tripping… it was so embarrassing. But I can laugh about it now, because he didn't care about that. He saw me and loved me for who I was, and that was what mattered. I would've happily given up my life for him; sometimes I wish that I'd had that choice, that it could've been me instead of him. The intensity of real love isn't something you can mistake for anything else."

"The most important thing to remember, Lucina, is that no one can tell you whether or not you're in love. That's something only you can know. I knew then that Chrom was the one for me, and someday you'll find someone just as important to you."

Somehow, standing there, everything suddenly made sense. I was in love with Destin. It wasn't something I could deny any more than I could deny my name or the Brand in my left eye. Those were simple truths of who I was, and so was this.

I couldn't deny it, but neither could I accept it. There were so many problems I couldn't even begin to address them all. I was from an entirely different time, and even though we were close in age he was my father's best friend. The Lucina that belonged in this world was two years old and crawling around Ylisstol. I didn't belong in this time, and I knew it.

Beyond that, I had no idea how he felt about me. Admittedly, he did spend more of his time with me than anyone else in the Shepherds except Chrom, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He taught me tactics and was always ready with a word of support, but he might still see me just as Chrom's daughter. I had a task to remember, a mission to save this timeline from the terrible fate my own world had suffered. The last thing I needed was complications.

…And then I realized that he was standing right in front of me and all of that stopped being important.

"You have that look you get when you're thinking about your future," Destin observed quietly. "Did that remind you of something?"

"Ah… yes." I'd probably die of sheer embarrassment if I ever told him what.

"Thought so. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I was sparring with my father anyways. We just finished a few minutes ago."

"Oh?" There was an amused undertone in his voice. I glanced sidelong at him, and of course he was grinning. "How long did it take him to figure out that you just wanted to spend time with him? Chrom can be remarkably slow on these things sometimes."

I grimaced slightly. It wasn't that I thought my father had nothing to teach me in terms of sword skill – far from it – but it was true that my main motivation for requesting matches with him was so that I could have time with him. The time that I'd never had a chance to enjoy when I was a child. But I'd never told him that, nor had he ever let on that he knew, and I certainly hadn't told Destin anything about it. So how did he know?

Perhaps that was a stupid question. He seemed to know everything about everyone in the Shepherds, even things I'd consider private. I suppose it was his business to know as much as he could about the people he would command in battle. Some things, like my own ploys for fatherly attention, no one had mentioned or even implied to him. Yet he knew about them anyways. Intuition, the ability to correctly guess circumstances from minimal clues, was a valuable talent for a tactician. Maybe that was why he was so good at what he did.

I didn't reply, but he didn't seem to expect an answer. We continued back to his tent in silence. The realization I'd just come to had made me more aware of him, somehow, as if I could feel his very presence at my side. Considering that I'd also decided to do nothing about it, it was also a little bit uncomfortable. But I didn't want to let it bother me too much, so I tried not to think about it as we settled into that night's lesson.

I must have been more exhausted than I'd believed, because the next thing I remembered was waking up in the morning. It took me a few moments to realize that I was not in my tent, and a few more to realize that I'd never left Destin's. He wasn't there when I woke up, but all signs pointed to him having slept in his chair.

A furious blush covered my face, for more than one reason. Not only had I evidently fallen asleep during his lesson, I'd taken his sleeping roll. I might as well have kicked him out of his own tent. I've never claimed to be some paragon of good manners – there were more important things when you were facing extinction any day of the week – but my mother had raised me better than this. I really had no excuse.

Mortified, I peered out of the door flaps to check that nobody was watching before I left. The situation was awkward enough without one of the other Shepherds seeing me leaving Destin's tent and jumping to conclusions. They would, too; many of my comrades were hopeless romantics deep down, regardless of the image they projected on the surface.

Fortunately, it was still early in the morning. Most of them were still asleep, and even the regular army had only just begun to rouse itself. I was able to slip out into the main section of the camp without anyone noticing. My first thought was to try to find Destin so I could apologize, but I had no idea what to say. I settled for finding something to eat instead.

It took me a little while to calm myself down. Destin wasn't the kind of man who'd hold this sort of thing against me; most likely he'd be amused more than anything. I was still going to apologize, because that was the right thing to do, but I didn't feel nearly as bad about it.

As luck would have it, he was in the same section of the training area he'd been using to teach Ricken the previous night. He seemed to be experimenting with some kind of magic and was alone, except for two other women standing near the fence watching him. I snuck up behind them without either noticing.

"What on earth does he think he's doing?" demanded the one on the left, in an abrasive voice that felt very familiar. "Even Laurent would never try something like that, and I swear he's going to get himself killed doing research someday."

"I-I don't know…" the other stammered. "He feels kinda scary to me."

"Oh, you think everyone's scary," the first replied. "Someday you're going to have to stop jumping at your own shadow, Noire."

"And someday you're going to have to stop giving her a hard time for it, Severa," I said.

Both of them turned to face me, surprise written all over their faces. As I'd thought, two more of my old comrades. Cordelia's daughter, the sometimes insufferable Severa, was a skilled warrior who hated to be compared with her mother. Noire was Tharja and Lon'qu's daughter, possibly one of the shyest people in existence until she used the talisman her late mother had given her… at which point she acted like a demon.

"Oh, L-Lucina," Noire squeaked. "You're actually here…"

"That figures," Severa said, rolling her eyes. "Do you have any idea what we went through to get here, princess? Geez, this whole thing was your idea in the first place…"

"I'm sorry for your trouble, but you all agreed," I replied firmly. I hated arguing with my friends, but I was in no mood for Severa's attitude at that moment. "It's too bad that we got separated, but you're here now aren't you?"

"W-well yeah. But still, do better next time!" She certainly hadn't changed.

"Right. Are you holding up alright, Noire?"

"Yes…" The black haired girl clutched her hands together tightly. "I've only had to use my talisman a few times. And now that we're together again, I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Not everyone's here yet," I said. "But enough, I hope."

"By the way, Lucina, who's that out there?" Severa asked. "I'm no expert, but I don't think you should combine magic like that."

I paused to take a good look at what Destin was doing. As Severa said, he seemed to be switching elements constantly, as though trying to make them work together. I had no doubt that it was dangerous, which might just be why he was doing it at all.

"He's this army's tactician," I replied easily. "Come on. I'll introduce you."