Chapter 17 - Grief and Resolve

Corrin hurried through the bustling streets, keeping his head low, trying to put as much distance between him and the others as possible. It was a mistake to come today, to try to pretend everything was fine. To even pretend like he could act like things were alright in the world. Now or ever. To pretend like his son's words hadn't stung.

All it did was remind him of her absence. All it did was remind him of how much he missed her.

Coward. Gutless coward. Couldn't even put up a brave face, could you? Couldn't even hold it in for Kana's sake, a voice scolded, echoing through his mind, each word in step with the every growing feeling a shame that spread through him. Or selfish. How you feel is so much more important, isn't it? Selfish. And a coward. That's all you've ever been, right? So run, run like you always do.

And run he did. He ran through the city, winding his way through twisting alleys and maze-like streets to carry him further from the center of festivities. A few times he was forced to leap aside to avoid crashing into others who inadvertently moved into his way, indignant shouts and muttered curses calling after him as he rushed on past.

Then at last he reached the front gates, passing through them and and out into the countryside. Only now did his pace slow, the soft padding of his bare feet in the cold, packed earth becoming a slow rhythmic beat that sung with the rustling of the dry, coarse grass and the creaking of brambles that dotted the countryside.

Coward.

Corrin's footsteps faltered. He squeezed his eyes shut, a lump catching in his throat.

Selfish.

He stumbled forward, swaying as a wave of grief crashed into him.

Weak.

He staggered once then collapsed to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he fought back building tears. Why? Why couldn't he do this? He should be stronger than this. Everyone… Kana, Shigure, his siblings, all his friends… none of them had allowed their hardships to bring them so low. They'd all carried on, continued to fight and live and find what happiness they could. But why couldn't he? Why couldn't he take that step? Why couldn't he accept that Azura was truly-

-he couldn't even finish the thought. He wasn't even strong enough to do that.

He clenched his fists, his whole body trembling. He felt something hot and sticky drip between his fingers, and when he looked down he saw that his palms were bleeding. It took a moment before he realized that he'd been starting to transform without realizing it: his fingers extending into clawed talons that had dug deep into his flesh.

Raising his shaking and bloody hands before his face, Corrin tried to steady his breath. Yet try as he might, his breathing remained ragged and rasping. Dammit, why couldn't he do this?

Trying again, Corrin sucked in a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he pooled all of his focus onto his hands. The skin prickled and crawled as he watched, his hands completing their transformation. Another breath and they shifted back, returning to normal, only this time the wounds at the center of his palms appeared closed and scabbed over. It was a trick he'd learned some time ago: while it did little for serious injuries, he could somewhat repair minor cuts and bruises when transitioning between his two forms.

He remembered how excited he'd been when he'd figured it out. How he'd rushed to find Azura to show her it, only to realize once he'd found her that he would need to injury himself if he were to properly demonstrate. The mere mention of this had visibly upset Azura, who'd taken his words to mean that he'd been about to actually go ahead and do just that. He still recalled the shock and worry that had played across her face even as he'd frantically tried to clarify that the suggestion hadn't been a serious one. It was only afterwards that the two had shared a laugh about the misunderstanding.

If only he could recall that feeling now… Instead the memory brought only a feeling of emptiness, as if the meaning it had once carried had been rendered hollow in the wake of her absence.

A tear glistened silver in the moonlight, splashing against the dirt.

Azura…

Lifting his head, Corrin gazed up into the pale, full moon that hung high in the sky. Ghostly white light played over the landscape, illuminating the world in a pale sheen of gray. It was a cold, empty light, so very different from the golden warmth of the festival lights left in the city behind. Perhaps it was fitting then that it was that light that bathed him now. So much more fitting to the feeling left in his aching heart.

"I apologies for intruding, but I believe you may be in need of some company."

Startled by the sudden voice, Corrin leapt to his feat. He whirled around, coming face to face with whomever had seemingly materialized behind him. It was Lucina, the blue haired princess standing mere feet away. He hadn't even heard her approach.

She no longer wore the mask that had been the centerpiece of her costume, though her shortened hair and the rest of the alterations that had been made to her usual outfit remained in place. She must have simply removed it before approaching, if only to avoid startling him.

"From my experiences it is times like these where having someone to talk to can be more beneficial than you realize. Even if you feel like you'd much rather be left alone. What you want is not always what you require," the blue haired princess continued, paying no heed to the shock still playing across his face. "May I join you?" she asked, motioning with a hand to the spot next to where he'd been sitting.

Corrin glanced between it and the woman, uncertain. "I'd rather…" He stopped himself, realizing he'd just walked into the exact answer she'd predicted. Dammit, I don't…

"How did you find me?" Corrin managed at last, his words in truth little more than a desperate bit to deflect her question with one of his own.

"When you ran off, Robin and I grew worried. So I elected to follow and provide what aid I could."

"Aid?" Corrin asked.

"Advice. And a sympathetic ear. While I suspect you would not believe me saying it, but I understand what ails you. Better than most," Lucina answered.

"I can't say your suspicions are unfounded," Corrin answered, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. He grimaced, cursing himself for complaining like some damn spoiled child. Like always. "I'm sorry. I'm tired… tired of people telling me they understand. Not when they weren't close to her like I-" He bit off the rest of his sentence, a sharp pang radiating through his chest at the thought of her.

"Perhaps. Though I would like to request that you hear me out. Though the choice is ultimately yours to make. I will not impose upon you."

Choice…

The word was still poison on his tongue and mind. Those always ended poorly for him. One poor choice after another… that's all this had been. Since the beginning, really.

His shoulders slumped, a sudden heavy weight seeming to fall over him. He turned, dropping to the ground next in the spot he'd sat before. While he made no motion for Lucina to join him, she managed to pick up on the unspoken meaning of his reaction, taking the vacant spot next to him.

For a long moment neither of them spoke, the silence palpable in the air as Corrin waited. Only when it became apparent from Lucina's steady gaze upon him that she expected him to begin, did he move to speak. "So what is it that you can understand about me? I still find that… hard… to believe." He had another bitter, apologetic laugh. "I know, it's stupid and arrogant to believe so... Honestly like I'm that special or unique… but even if I know that… know that I can't be the only one to go through what I am… I can't seem to bring myself to feel that way…."

"It's sometimes difficult to see from the perspective of others. Even those who always can empathize with the people who surround them, it can be difficult to understand when such feelings are returned," Lucina replied. Her deep blue eyes stared intently at him as she spoke, their gaze paying close attention to his expression, as if waiting to see how he reacted to her words. "I have spoke to your friends at length over the past few days. Robin and I both. We… heard about the events you have gone through. The choices you made…"

"And you think me a monster, don't you? It's okay. Half the world probably does by now…" Corrin laughed bitterly, the sound almost sad at its crescendo. That was how he felt, really. It was what his choices had wrought.

"I… at first, perhaps. I'm sorry. I am afraid I am ill-adept at dealing with matters of difficult moral ambiguity. I often see the world in black and white, and often have difficulty reconciling the shades of gray where they meet," Lucina replied apologetically, bowing her head in deference as she spoke. "While I cannot say I agree with your choices, I must acknowledge that as one who was not there, it is not my place to pass judgement."

"Guess I should be glad one of us here sees it that way," Corrin interjected, grimacing. He looked away, watching a nearby tuft of grass away in the wind. "Am I… a bad person? I… the things I did… What do they say about me?"

For a long moment no reply came. Glancing back to her, Corrin saw that Lucina's expression had grown thoughtful, appearing as one in deep deliberation within herself.

"I cannot say., not without knowing more. While your actions themselves may have proved ill… your intentions and desired outcome can mean the difference, " Lucina said. "I've heard the story of what happened many times now, only always from the perspective of your friends. If you are willing, I would like to hear your version events. Of the choices you made and why. I want to better understand."

"That… is a painful story… I'm not sure if… if I can…"

"It's alright. You don't have to," Lucina told him gently.

"No." Corrin shook his head sharply, gritting his teeth, "I… I need to. If I keep running away from what happened I… I won't be taking responsibility for my mistakes. I've been blaming myself for so long… but that's not facing my mistakes. Not really," Corrin explained. As he spoke, he vividly recalled what Robin had told him those weeks before. Not blaming himself, but taking responsibility for it nonetheless.

He was afraid. Afraid of facing his past and the pain he'd felt all over again. But… he had to right? He had to try.

And so he began, recounting the events from the very beginning. From the first mission Garon had sent him on, being captured and brought to Hoshido, meeting his mother and true family for the first time. Of the assassination attempt that claimed his mother's life, of the Yato claiming him as it's wielder. Of his choice to side with Nohr, driven by the weakness of being unable to find the will to raise arms against the only family he'd ever know. Of his attempts to save as many lives as he could and somehow stop the war, and the failures and trail of corpses that plagued every step along his journey. He told of the invasion of Hoshido, of his promise to save his brothers lives, only for them to die before his eyes.

Time crawled forwards as he talked, the moon rising higher overhead as the story moved towards it's conclusion. Towards the final battle and their fight with Garon and then with his brother. And then, he told of those last final moments. Of Azura's sacrifice. Of how she'd disappeared before his very eyes.

"I never wanted this burden. I didn't ask for Yato to choose me… I didn't want to be a hero…." Corrin blinked back fresh tears, his vision blurring. Unconsciously he reached into his tunic, his fingers wrapping around Azura's amulet, the metal cool against his skin. "Yet when it happened… I tried to fill the role the best I could. I thought… maybe… just maybe… I could do it. I could stop the war somehow. That I could save everyone. I was so naive…"

A mirthless laugh fell from his lips. Even he took pause at it, shocked by the weariness and sadness carried in its notes. "I tried you know. I tried so hard. But no matter what I did, people got hurt. No matter how hard I tried to stop it, people died. In the end I couldn't save anyone. Not even my own family. I couldn't even save her… all I did was prove that the Yato chose poorly."

For a long while no response came, the only sound to be heard the rustle of the wind in the grass and the faintest murmur of the festivities still going on far behind. So long the silence held that Corrin eventually looked up, glancing Lucina's way. What he found was her staring into the landscape, her gaze distant and eyes filled with some emotion he couldn't readily identify. Was it sadness? Wistfulness? Regret? Something in between?

"No hero chose to be so." The sudden sound of the foreign princess's voice suddenly cut through the still quiet, the words spoken slow and carefully, as if making an effort to make her meaning clear. "It is a burden none who understand it would readily ask. I too can say that from experience," she turned her gaze onto him, a knowing look held in her eyes and a sad smile on her lips.

"You recall how I once spoke of coming from a separate future from Robin? The same as my three friends that you know? In my time, the world had fallen into ruin. My father, all his friends, dead at the hands of the Fell Dragon, Grima. With every passing day, his armies of the dead grew in number as pockets of what little resistance was left were snuffed out. And it fell to me, by my birthright, to lead those few who remained."

Slowly Lucina reached down, her hand finding the hilt of her sword. With a single, fluid motion she drew the weapon and held it before her, it's blade glowing in the silver moonlight. For an instant Corrin flinched away, instinctual fear of a weapon steeped in the bane of dragons taking hold of him. But he buried it, forcing himself to remain still, his eyes fixed firmly on the weapon.

"Much like you, I found myself chosen by a weapon. Falchion can only be wielded of those of the Exalted Bloodline, bearers of the brand," she motioned to her left eye, to the symbol there Corrin remembered her mentioning once before. "Even then, not everyone of that blood can wield Falchion. The blade decides who is worthy to shoulder the burden it carries."

Lucina flashed another sad smile, then returned Falchion to it's sheath. "I never asked for that burden. I never wanted to be a hero. But I had no choice. I was the only one left. So for the sake of my friends, my world, and everyone who still dwelt within it, I did my utmost to fulfill that role… and I failed."

"What? You mean you didn't…" Corrin asked, shocked by the turn the conversation had taken. For a moment he'd been expecting her story to turn into one of victory, of despite not wishing the role, that Lucina had struggled regardless and overcome her fate. But then he stopped himself, realizing the foolishness of the thought. For if she had proved victorious, then why bother travel to the past?

"No. I fought with everything I had, and yet… it wasn't enough. Day by day Grima's army grew, each of the fallen joining his fell army as Risen. Our one hope was the Fire Emblem, a powerful artifact holding the only chance to defeat Grima, but one of the five gemstones it needed was lost forever. And with it, so was our hope. To this day I consider it my greatest failure. The world I couldn't save…"

A world I couldn't save… just like me… Corrin blinked, his will alone holding back the tears beginning to form once more. "What did you do then?"

"Naga, the Divine Dragon who created both Falchion and the Fire Emblem, offered me and my friends a choice. To remain and fight to the bitter end… or to be sent into the past, before Grima's rise, and with it the chance to stop it. I took it, because I thought… even if I couldn't save my world, perhaps… perhaps I could make sure another didn't befall that same fate. That the me of that timeline would grow up, never having to carry the same burden I'd taken upon myself."

"Even so… it must have been hard. To leave your own world behind, knowing full well doing so would mean the destruction of your world," Corrin said, his voice quiet. "I am not sure I would have been able to find that resolve. To do that, I mean."

Lucina nodded. "It was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. All my hopes staked on another world. On securing a future that would never be my own. That's what I'd thought. That's what I'd believed… I could have never imagined that there, in that past, I would find something else to fight for. A certain someone… and a promise of a future we'd share."

Corrin said nothing. There was no reason to say it, when the answer was so painfully obvious. So instead he just nodded, acknowledging that he understood.

Lucina smiled, the first happy smile she'd worn since their talk had begun. "It happened by accident. I had no intention of remaining in that time once Grima was defeated. Attachments would only make that parting more painful. So when I found myself developing feeling towards Robin, I fought against them, trying not to fall for him. I only found after the fact that Robin had been doing much the same: attempting his utmost not to fall for me in turn lest it complicate things. But in the end it proved hopeless, in the end we couldn't stop it." She closed her eyes, her expression one of someone reliving a happy memory from long ago. "The day he brought me flowers and confessed his feelings was one of the happiest in my life. Soon after we found Morgan, our wonderful daughter from yet another future. It was so much more than I could have possibly imagined. For the first time since I could remember, I had something to fight for. Something for myself, for the future we would share, as a family."

Then Lucina's smile faltered, her expressing growing sad "And then I watched him disappear before my eyes. To vanish into fading light… the man I loved… gone. His life given to save the world…"

Corrin froze, time seeming to stand still as his mind struggled to comprehend what Lucina had just told him. What? He vanished? Just like- Unbidden images flashed before his eyes. Azura's body dissolving away before him, a sad smile on her lips. The light fading into nothingness, her pendant falling to the floor, clinking as it settled in the cold stone. Corrin squeezed his eyes shut, enduring the tide of memories crashing into him. "He… died? How? …and if that happened… then…" Corrin trailed off, coming up at a loss, not sure what to even say.

"Yes," Lucina said simply, her expression sad as she gazed at him. "You are not the only one to watch a loved one fade away, Corrin. Even now, three years passed, the memory fills me with grief…" she closed her eyes, her face upturned to bathe in the light of the full moon "Even though he came back to me, that pain and the fear I might lose him all over again… I fear that will never go away."

For a long while Corrin did not respond, mulling over his words carefully. "What happened?" he asked simply, finally venturing to speak.

"That… that is a difficult story. And a painful one at that, One I will try to keep brief, for both my sake and yours," Lucina told him. She sighed, and then, with a reluctant breath, began.

Corrin listened intently as Lucina wove her tale, as she told him of how Grima had followed her to the past. Of the discovery of Robin's heritage as Grima's vessel. And of the means it provided in ending the Fell Dragon for good.

It was then that Lucina's voice began to falter, and Corrin was shocked to see tears glistening in her eyes. A sheet of silver they seemed, pooling beneath her lids. "We all told him not to, that we had another means to defeating Grima. But he did not listen. He struck the final blow. Grima was undone… and so was he…"

"But… he's alive now isn't he? If he died then how…" Corrin frowned, his words trailing off with the rest of his question unspoken.

"For two long years I was alone. Robin was gone and all I had was one fleeting hope. Before Robin died, Naga had revealed to us that there was a small chance, one so insignificantly small that it would be foolish to believe it, that if the bonds we'd forged with Robin were strong enough, then their power could tie him to us and the world, returning him to us. But even as I hoped and prayed it would be so… I never believed that wish could possibly prove true."

"But he came back, didn't he? I mean, it's obvious that he did. Wouldn't have met the guy otherwise," Corrin interjected. Even as he tried his best to make the jest… he found himself struggling to wrap his head around it. The power of their bonds… could they really have been that powerful? To bring him back to life? To return him to the world after he'd ceased to exist?

Another question came to him then, one that carried with it a faint hope. The hope that maybe, somehow, someway… That if Robin had returned then… then maybe… just maybe…

No. He couldn't let himself think that. He didn't dare let himself hope Azura could come back.

He couldn't let himself go through that pain all over again.

When he looked up again, Lucina was gazing intently at him, as if trying to determine what he was thinking. She must of gleaned something from his expression, for when she spoke her words hit close to the very questions now racing through his mind. "Corrin, I do not wish my experiences to inspire any false hope. For all the similarities that exist between what happened to Robin and the fate Azura befell… your own tale makes it clear that the circumstances are not wholly the same. I do not know if there is hope or not that she could return as he did. I'm sorry."

Corrin nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Not your fault... " he whispered. His voice wavered and cracked.

"I know. That does not make me any less regretful that I could not provide you that hope," Lucina answered.

Corrin nodded again, his shoulders beginning to tremble. He grimaced, fighting to still his shaking and to hold back the tears he knew would come. His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles going white with a effort of holding back the wave crashing into him

"It is alright, you know…"

Corrin opened his eyes, blinking as he turned his head to look at Lucina. "What is?"

"To grieve. To accept that she is really gone," Lucina explained. "I know, because for a time I could not allow myself to. Just as you are now. Even though her death hangs heavy over you, you've spent all this time trying to hold back the tears. Trying to find someone to blame, even if that person is yourself." Reaching out, she put a hand on his forearm, gripping it gently. "By hiding behind guilt and blame, you haven't let yourself just simply grieve for her. Because if you did..."

"...It would mean accepting that she was really gone..." Corrin finished, his voice cracking as he spoke the words. He began to tremble again, a sob cascading from him. "I-I don't know if… if I can… deep down I-I… I don't want…"

I don't want it to be real…

"Tell me about her," Lucina said, her words more request than instruction. "You spoke of what happened, but not once told me about her."

"I-I…" Corrin faltered in his words, struggling where to begin. "She was… she was always distant from others. Most thought that she was simply aloof, but really it was because she was shy. She never really enjoyed being around groups of people or being the center of attention. Nor was she the best when it came to expressing her thoughts or feelings at times, even to me. But she… She was always so kind… While she didn't always show it… she cared deeply for everyone around her. She'd always put the needs of others above her own…."

Corrin blinked, his vision blurring. A single tear traced its way down his cheek, splashing against the back of his hand gripped in his lap. "She carried this strength about her and somehow… somehow her just being there would wash away your fears and doubts… Whenever I felt weak… felt like I couldn't go on… she was always there. Because of her… I felt like everything we did… ever sacrifice… wasn't meaningless. That someway… somehow… we could make a brighter future. But now… that she's… without her here… I-I don't... I can't…"

"It's okay. Keep going," Lucina told him gently. She squeezed his arm a bit tighter.

"I-I… without her I can't…" Corrin shook, more tears cascading down his face. A voice in the back of his head screamed for him to just say it. To stop bottling it up, to stop hiding from the pain and the grief. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep running from the truth.

"I've failed her… She fought so hard for a brighter future, but without her… without her light… I can't keep fighting. I should be fighting still, fighting to make sure that future comes to pass. But I can't!" Corrin wailed. The instant those words left his mouth, all the grief and loneliness he'd been trying to fight against, all the feelings he'd kept bottled up, came crashing down. "I don't see how… how I can do this alone! I need her here… I can't do this without her… I never told her. I never told her how much I needed her!" Sobs drowned out the rest of his words, the tears coming in flood now. A sudden pang of self loathing and guilt rose up within him as it had so many times before, but this time he buried it, refusing to hide behind such feelings any longer.

He needed to grieve. He needed to accept Azura was gone. He needed to accept how much he truly needed her. How much he truly missed her.

She deserved that much, didn't she? To embrace those feelings, no matter how painful. To no longer dishonor their bonds by hiding from just how much she meant to him.

Through it all Lucina remained there next to him, allowing him to let his feelings flow, her gaze unjudging. For he knew she had gone through the same thing as him. A fellow reluctant hero marked by her struggles and failures. Another hero who'd watched the person they loved vanish before their eyes.

"I'm sorry," Corrin managed at last, wiping his eyes as the trembling stilled. His chest hurt, the pang of loneliness and grief there yet undiminished. The pain was more keen now than ever before, and he feared it would never go away. Perhaps it wouldn't. Perhaps that was the point.

Perhaps healing meant allowing himself to always miss her, but find the strength to carry on regardless. No matter how difficult it was.

That's what Azura would have done, in his place. And while he feared he couldn't do the same…

He had to try.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Lucina answered. She gave his arm another squeeze. "I know how hard it is to believe it, but… you can find the strength to carry on without her. As difficult as it is, you must. Not just for your sake, nor for the sake of her memory, but for those that need you to be strong, now more than ever."

"W-what… what do you mean?" Corrin asked.

"When… when Robin vanished... I bottled everything up like you did. I blamed myself for not stopping him," Lucina explained, speaking slowly. "Worse still, I began to try to convince myself that… that I should be happy. That his sacrifice accomplished what I set out to do. That to believe otherwise would be selfish. But then I realized... that I wasn't the only one hurting. That in not allowing myself to truly grieve, I was neglecting my daughter's feelings. That Morgan was hurting just as keenly as I was, and that she needed her mother..."

Lucina smiled sadly, her gaze as gentle as her words as she looked at him. "While they may not show it, I believe Kana and Shigure are grieving as much as you are. Even though they may try to hide it… they need their father now. They need him to be strong, for their sake."

Kana… Shigure… I… Memories of the past weeks flashed before Corrin's eyes. Every time his children had spoken to him, every word they'd said, every expression, every sad stare. Kana's desperation to save him regardless of her own safety, Shigure's anger at his actions, all the time's they tried to talk to him only for him to brush them aside. Had he really been so blind? Had he really not seen or considered how much Azura's death had affected them too?

"I… I really am selfish, aren't I?" Corrin asked, another sob tearing through him. Once again he wiped his eyes on his sleeve again. "I'm a terrible father..."

Lucina shook her head. "You can't blame yourself. You were lost to yourself, and needed to find your way first."

"Yes, but I should have been better... They deserved that much, at least…" Pressing a hand against the ground, Corrin pushed himself upright. He staggered a step, his head swimming as everything seemed to sway before he found his footing. "I'm sorry, I-I… I need to go…"

"I understand. Your children need you now, after all."

Corrin nodded. "I don't know if… I fear I may not be able to make things right with them… but I have to try…"

"I believe you can. Now go," Lucina urged him, smiling.

Nodding yet again, Corrin turned to go… then stopped himself, looking back. "Lucina?"

"Yes?"

"I…" Corrin trailed off, trying to find his words. "Thank you, for helping me understand. Robin is truly lucky to have you… and I think… I think you should should tell him how lucky you are to have him too. He probably knows that already, but… it means more to hear it."

"You have nothing to thank me for, Corrin. I am simply glad I could be of any help, regardless of how little or great it may have been," Lucina answered. "And you are right. Perhaps just like you, I too have neglected to tell those I care about just how dear they are to me."

With those final words ringing in his head, Corrin started back towards the city that loomed behind him. Now, for the first time in a long while, he had a purpose guiding his steps. He had people he needed to find.

He needed to tell them how important they were to him as well.

. . . . .

Corrin's hand stopped an inch from the doorknob. Through the crack between the frame and the door, light flickered from within. No sound could be made out from where he stood, and he dared not press his ear against the doorway to know for sure.

His hand began to tremble, his fingertips beginning to pull away from the door. Then suddenly his other hand shot forward, gripping his own wrist and forcing his retreating limb back onto the handle. Before he had to time question the surge of newfound resolve, Corrin twisted the knob.

The door's hinges creaked as it swung slowly open. Soft gold light bathed the room, cast from the hearth that had been lit to ward against the chill autumn air that lingered outside the castle's walls. The glow of several oil lamps joined the fire's radiance, driving away the darkness that clung to the outside hallway. Most would have thought the use of so many lights, particularly so late into the evening, as strange. Their purpose, however, would have been no great mystery.

At the center of the room was seated Shigure. His back faced the doorway, his attention fixed on the canvas placed in front of his stool. Even as Corrin watched, his son made no motion to indicate he was aware of his entrance, his gaze fixed on a half-finished painting before him. What the painting was of, Corrin could not say, Shigure obscuring most the canvas so only a small portion could be seen from his vantage point at the doorway.

For a moment Corrin hesitated again, frozen in place by a sudden fear. What… what was he supposed to even say? Apologize for being a terrible excuse for a father? That would probably be a good first step, but after that…

He shook his head sharply. No. Now was not the time to second guess himself. He had to try, whether he knew what to say or not. Stepping forward, Corrin slowly approached his son.

Shigure turned as Corrin inched closer, stiffening visibly as he glanced his way. Turning abruptly back to his painting, he lowered his brush and palette, his shoulders seeming to slump.

"Father…" he whispered, the words so faint that Corrin couldn't be sure if they'd truly been spoken or if he'd merely imagined them.

Corrin stopped dead in his tracks. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. "Shigure, I-I…"

Shigure shook his head abruptly. "Father, I apologize for earlier. What I said, I did not truly mean it. I let my anger towards you get the better of me and poison my words. I'm sorry."

"No. It's alright. I don't blame you. Given how I've been acting… you have every reason to be angry with me," Corrin said. He sighed deeply. Drawing in a deep breath, he willed his body to move, dragging one leg forward, then another, stepping close to his son.

And then fell still once more as he beheld his son's painting.

It… it was of them. Himself, Shigure, Kana, and Azura. All of them appeared as they had been when they were all still together. Smiling. Happy.

A family.

Then he noticed the dried splotched of liquid on the canvas, and the spots on the palette where water seemed to have mixed with the paint. Had Shigure been crying as he'd worked on the painting? From the size of the canvas and the state of the art, he must have been working on it for longer than just this evening.

Had this been his attempt to cope? To bring into being a glimpse into the life he'd once had?

Corrin blinked, tears of his own beginning to stream down his face. "Shigure, I… I want to apologize. For everything. I've been so wrapped up with my own grief, I never stopped to consider how you and Kana must have been…" He choked up on his words, the lump reforming in his throat. "I've been selfish. I should have been here for you and Kana. I have been a terrible father and-"

Before he could say anything more, the door to the room creaked open. Turning his head, Corrin spied Kana standing in the doorway. She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her large, golden eyes. The she stopped, her gaze falling on Corrin's face.

Before Corrin had a chance to react, Kana was suddenly in his arms, having thrown herself at him with enough force to knock him over, sending them both crashing to the floor. However, Kana seemed to scarcely notice it, continuing to cling to him tightly as she buried her face into him. "Papa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I didn't mean it. I made you and brother fight and I… I just wanted us to be happy. L-Like we used to be."

"No, Kana, I…" Corrin shook his head, managing to sit upright and hug his daughter back. "You don't need to apologize for wanting that… I'm the one who hasn't been a good father." He turned his head back to Shigure, who had still yet to move from the spot. "I can understand if… if you can't forgive me. I just want you to understand… I am so sorry. I am so, so, so sorry. I practically abandoned you when you needed me most. You… you lost your mother and I… I wasn't there for you. I-"

Before he could finish, Shigure suddenly whirled around, nearly falling from his stool as he dropped to his knees and threw his arms around both Corrin and Kana. He buried his face into Corrin's shoulder.

"I forgive you, father. I forgive you.

"After mother died, I felt so alone, as alone as when all my friends were killed in the village that raised me. And when you began to drift away and…" He trailed. "When you nearly got Kana killed, I was so angry. I thought you didn't care about her. About us. That you'd abandoned us as well."

"Sigure, I… I understand and I…"

"I never thought you abandoned us, papa. I knew you were sad that Mama was gone. It made me sad too… but I just want us to be sad together, okay?" Kana cut in, her words muffled by both her brother and Corrin's arms wrapped around her.

Corrin began to sob, the tears coming all the more fiercely now. "Alright. We'll be sad together then. It'll be hard but… from now on I'll do everything in my power to be there for you. I'll try… I'll try as hard as I can to be the father you deserve."

Now was the time to be strong. Even if the pain never truly went away, he had to move forward. For Kana. For Shigure. For his family.

And for Azura, too. For the family and the life she had left behind, and would want to see go on without her.

Corrin glanced up at Shigure's painting and the smiling faces peering back at him. Maybe they could never go back to being the family of that painting. Not when such an important piece was still missing. But they could try at least, to get back to where they could smile again, like they used to once upon a time.

Maybe that would be enough.

End of Act I

Author's Note: Here we are, we finally made it to the end of Act 1 of A Future Tied by Fates. This just about wraps up what I've been referring to in my own notes as the "Corrin angst arc". While he still has a long ways to go and it's going to be an uphill battle, Corrin has found new resolve and with it has begun the healing process. Now with it he can start moving forward, and without a moment to spare too. As from here on out, things will be picking up the pace quite a bit as we delve into Act 2, where the real meat of the story takes place.

I have to say, it feels so good to be able to finally write this talk between Lucina and Corrin, as it's been something I'd been planning for a long time (and forshadowed for a long time). For all of Corrin's similarities with Robin, he shares a great deal in common with Lucina as well. In particular his experiences have many parallels to her own story. In a way, Lucina understands what Corrin is going through better than anyone, having too seen the person she loved vanish before her eyes. And while she eventually got her happy ending as Robin came back, she understands that pain, so it only makes sense that she would make the final breakthrough.

Now with that, onto guest review responses:

Darkness21 - I honestly can't take credit for the scene with Severa, as it was suggested in a review by crispytp and basically upon reading the suggestion was like "shit, that's good" and worked in the idea with some minor changes. But yeah, looking at the Hotspring Scramble conversation Lucina had with Severa, it really makes sense for her to have tried to be like Lucina in a way, only the mess things up and her inferiority complex to come back twice as for the chat between Lucina and Corrin … *looks up at the chapter above this author's note*

Anyhow, that's all for now. As always I really look forward to hearing from you guys. Your comments really make my day! Until next time where we pick up the story with the start of Act 2, have a wonderful day everyone!