Cycle

by RoseWarden

Robin is a young woman who bakes cakes during the day, sleeps at night, and drinks on weekends. She does not wage wars, fight demons, or solve dating issues. Yet, somehow by divine mistake, she's found herself doing just that. Clearly, someone has her confused with another Robin...

45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer – I don't own Fire Emblem. All of its properties belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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Chapter 45

"Robin! I said to bring me the healing stone! Not the light stone!"

I stare down blankly at the crystal cupped gently in my outstretched palms, then back up at Lissa's unimpressed scowl. I turn wordlessly back to the storeroom shelves and place it back on the shelf in search of another. Picking up the stone next to it, I hold it up for Lissa to see.

She sags forward, pressing her left palm to the center of her forehead.

"No."

I repeat the previous action and hold up another.

"Also no."

And another.

"Those are all light stones! Why do you think they're lumped together?"

She stomps past me and reaches for one on the shelf beneath. Lissa holds it right up to my nose causing me to go cross-eyed when focusing on it.

"This is a healing stone! See the color? Totally different."

I scowl at the rock. "No, I don't. They all look the same to me!"

"I told you a million times how to tell them apart!" Lissa starts to aggressively load up on the rocks hurling each one into the bunched up center of her apron. "We are never going to get out of these chores if you keep acting so scatterbrained! Where's your sense today?"

Did she? Hells. I don't know anymore. My attention has gone away. Very far away. On a whole other level of this stupid tower waiting for a shred of news to ease my anxiety over one stupid man! Until then, I'm finding it hard to think about anything else.

Lissa's ill-tempered pout falls away at my equally frustrated expression. Her small frame releases all the prior tension as she retreats to the healing staffs she was fixing. She places her apron over the tabletop and lets the cloth unfold. The collection of stones slide smoothly over each other onto the surface in a small pile.

"Who am I kidding? I know exactly what the problem is, and I shouldn't be yelling. I try to act like it's no big deal, but I remember too."

She collapses into the chair beside the table and kicks up both feet so they rest on the seat opposite her. Lissa's head hangs back over the top of the chair and her arms sag limply at her sides.

"Ugh. I can't take it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane with worry! How can Frederick even ask for us to remain calm?"

It's been a day and a half since the battle and there's little to be said about Chrom. Once he was whisked away for the healers, no one had been able to see him. At best, Lissa and Frederick were granted a small audience with the elderly healer in charge of his recovery. It took all of yesterday with the two best clerics our army had to bring him to a stable condition. The Risen had purposely aimed to injure him most in the musculature needed to maintain a strong sword arm. It was basically trying to maim him. It absolutely disgusts me that I have to admire the intent of its actions. Crippling Falchion's wielder would be a blow to the army's morale, let alone history's outcome. Chrom would be the one who was destined to end Grima, according to their legends, after all.

The healer assured that they had done everything within their power to preserve his abilities and would now be working on the scarring since the trauma beneath had healed. As much as I want to be happy, parts of me are still both horrified and furious.

I just want to hate him for what he did. I didn't ask for him to sacrifice himself for me! I didn't want him to! That stupid, moronic, dumb...hero! It's my job to do that! I'm supposed to be the one protecting him! And now he's stuck unconscious, maybe still in some sort of pain, and I can't do anything about it but wait. It really is infuriating how helpless I feel.

When I lost people under my command for the first time, it was a different sort of helplessness. I was destitute at the thought of their deaths. It was a suffocating brick that threatened to choke me of the very air I breathed. It was so painful because I was the one who held the responsibility. The blame was all on me. But this? I had no control over any of it.

God, I feel like a terrible person for even admitting this but...this ordeal feels a whole lot more personal. Feeling that dread sink in before the bite, then watching that thing brutally attack my friend...my best friend is...

He's suffering and all I can do is stand in a goddamn storeroom counting out rocks to tie to the end of fancy sticks. I can't do a thing to help hasten his recovery. All I can do is wait. I never thought I'd be so ungrateful for peace and silence.

Lissa forces herself back up. She flicks a healing stone away from her sending it spinning toward the middle of the table. "We just have to force ourselves to stop thinking about it. Dwelling on it is only going to hurt our production. Frederick promised he'd tell us if anything changed about Chrom's condition. Until then, he's in the same deep sleep he's been before."

"So we stay busy with Frederick's meaningless task list? Sounds great," I drawl with extreme apathy.

The chair squeaks as Lissa slowly rises from it. She pick up an unadorned staff and tests the weight in her hands. "There's...there's other people who need help too. If we can't help Chrom, then we can at least help them. Besides, it's not like either of us have a choice! Neither of us are going anywhere until we finish these stupid lessons on teamwork."

Stupid is right. After Frederick had a good talk with both of us concerning our little spat during the rescue mission, he ordered both of us to endure several hours of task based work to help strength our teamwork. Yay. It's not necessarily a bad thing. The army needs help wherever it can as it settles into Ironhold Keep. Securing the city and taking care of the wounded has been the top priorities, and there just isn't enough people it seems to keep up with it. Word was sent to Fort Tyr but we won't hear from them for a few days. Even then, it will take time to have them relocate here. Flavia is more likely arrive first at her rate of movement, given the supplies and everything our main force has to gather up. There's a lot of other factors to incorporate and just-

Ugh. Forget it. Lissa is right. Thinking about all of this is making things worse at the moment. All I'm doing is driving myself crazy, just like last time. I can't afford to do that all over again. I promised myself I would be stronger this time, no matter how much it hurt.

The door to the storeroom opens and a middle-aged healer waddles in. He precariously balances a wavering tower of soiled linens in his arms. His face is turned away from the putrid towels, a scarf covering his lower face to protect his nose from the smell. He goes to the far corner where a growing pile of used laundry remains neglected. The tub someone had filled sits cold and stagnant, devoid of the soapy bubbles it once had collected over the water's surface.

Lissa and I had been doing our best to avoid the corner, having thrown open the shudders on the nearby window to let the smell of dirt and blood drift out. The woman working on them before had disappeared to help aid in stitching someone up and never came back. Lissa has been eying the corner distastefully for two hours now. Her look of loathing deepens with the newest deposit leaving her unable to hold back any longer.

"Ew. Bloody," she vocalizes against the slimy plop hitting the floor.

The healer shakes in surprise realizing us for the first time. It quickly changes to horror when he notices one of his audience is the youngest royal princess herself. He starts to babble some humbling introduction and apology, which she quickly waves away for an explanation.

"What's going on with this?" she orders.

He stumbles into a bow. "P-pardon me, Princess Lissa, but there's nowhere else to stash the soiled linens for now. This is the only room on this level not currently hosting a patient."

"Okay, but why isn't anyone washing them? Keeping these lying around is a hazard for everyone." She takes the end of one unused staff and uses the end of it to lift what appears to be a bandage off the ground. "You can't just leave unsanitary stuff like this around on the floor. We're using this on people!"

The healer looks ready to throw himself at her feet. Sometimes I forget how much reverence the Ylisseans treat Emmeryn and her siblings with. He acts like Lissa is a demigod, a fact I find impossible having known her for so long. What would they do if they knew how bratty and immature she could be, just like anyone her age? It'd be the shock of a lifetime!

"Forgive me! We're low on help, your Highness. The rest of the army has yet to join us, so every last initiate is being used on the wounded. We don't have time to stop for these chores with the soldiers' lives on the line!"

He's right. How many rooms have I passed with healers running in and out trying to help while others sit nearby partially passed out from fatigue? Everyone's trying their best. It's just not enough sadly. The thought sparks something in me. A desire to eradicate this clinging powerlessness. I come up behind my fellow Shepherd and press a hand to the back of her shoulder blade.

"Lissa?"

The look in her eye is the same as my own. We share a mutual need, a persisting desire. I don't need to say anymore to her. Turning to the still bowed healer, Lissa boldly thrusts her hand forward.

"Would you like us to help?" she practically pleads.

"You would?" The healer croaks, his head snapping up at the neck with astonishment. He quenches the reaction and quickly assumes a more respectful tone. He bows even deeper before rising. "That is, whatever aid you could manage to provide! Having the Exalted blood standing beside the wounded would give them courage! We would surely be blessed to have your guiding hand beside us."

"Yeah, okay," Lissa recoils slightly at his formality. It's clearly making her uncomfortable. She addresses me next despite throwing the list of duties a dirty look. "Freddie's fun can wait. What use is all my training if I can't use it when needed most?"

"I'm no healer, but if you tell me what to do, then I'll help best I can," I remind her.

Lissa bounces over to the list and folds it up several times before putting it in her apron pocket. "I don't think he can do anything about this anyway. We're working together to help the wounded, right? Sounds close enough like teamwork to me!"

Huh, she has a point.

"I'd be honored to work along side you, your Highness," the healer keens in a breathy voice. He turns even more pink addressing me. "And of course from you as well, Lady Robin!"

I feel a little pressured under his gaze, like he's expecting great things from me. I'm still not use to this famous thing. Having people know me by name and sight is jarring. After Ylisstol's siege, I've developed a bit of a folk hero following. The kids find it inspiring a nobody commoner like them managed to help fight back a mythical dragon from their home. I guess it's flattering, but I prefer my anonymity.

Things don't change much for us, aside from the workload intensifying. It's a bit of a blessing. The chores never seem to end as we try to tackle all the menial tasks that built up over the morning. Whether it be refilling water jugs or mashing noxious plants to paste, Lissa and I do our utmost to make things as easy as we can for the healers and injured alike. The man who lead us there was right about Lissa's presence among the workers. There's something humbling about seeing the princess of the realm working the most lowly of tasks for the sake of saving lives. She brings a bit of peace to the overworked caretakers of the realm. For the first time, I see her really blossom in her own element.

As the third born, she was the one tasked with the realm's religious duties. Ideally, she would one day take over the mantle of the church's highest authority. If she did, she would make an excellent priestess. Lissa's ability to push away her own worries is far better than my own. She turns into a bouncing ball of sunshine, masking her own fears to bring a small sliver of happiness to the figures around her. Whether it is a word of encouragement or a beaming smile, people instantly seem rejuvenated from her attention. Another mystifying aspect of the three young people who make of the royal bloodline of Naga. If politics is the heart of the country and military its strength, the church is its spirit. Lissa embodies everything about that. She just has this aura about her that makes people want to be happier or be more hopeful. Even if it is against her own current mood, Lissa can project quite the opposite when she needs to.

Maybe it even rubs off on me. For a short time, my own troubles seem to melt away. I'm no good at this medical stuff, but I find other ways to be useful. I can't say scrubbing urine stained sheets or smashing honeycomb with charcoal is something to boast about. But at the end of the day, it takes the pressure off someone's work load. Maybe it even saves someone's life. I can't say.

What I can admit to is that this helps bring Lissa and I closer than the monotonous drivel Frederick had punished us with. For the sake those injured, I had to learn to trust her word and she mine. There's no room to argue when a healer is yelling desperately for three new vials of vulneraries to close the gushing wound on a soldier. You don't argue, you just do.

Despite some pretty nasty looking infections, nothing truly traumatic had yet to happen on our floor. Not until noon anyway. The quiet of the hall erupts into the thunder of many footsteps as four armed guards kick open the door to carry in a comrade. The leader, a lieutenant I've seen with the foot soldiers, clears the nearby table with a sweep of his arm. He orders the other three to place the child carried between them on top of it.

The boy wears the crest of a duke's house and the uniform of a squire. He can't be more than ten years old. A large gash is ripped through the side of his tunic where hastily tied makeshift bandages have been tied around his torso. He grips the area of his stomach with both fingers clenched tightly into the crinkled folds of his clothes. The squire's breaths come in ragged gasps between blue lips, skin slick with a fever's sweat.

"Healer!" his lieutenant call out wildly. "I need a healer! Now!"

He tries to stop a woman nearby, but she's already elbow deep in the blood of another victim. She tries to tell him she'll help shortly, but the guard's pleas are desperate. This kid needs help now. Unfortunately, everyone around is still attempting to help the current wounded at their fingertips. Sensing the urgency, Lissa puts down the mortar and pestle in her hands to hop off her chair. I quickly put down my own and hand over her personal staff lying between us.

She approaches the woman getting hassled and eases her way between them. "Let me," she states firmly. The healer breathes in relief and thanks her before dashing back to her patient.

"Princess Lissa?" the lieutenant gapes before coming to form in a customary salute.

"What's the problem?" she asks with a look of worry at the squire.

It takes the lieutenant a moment of pause to gather she's the one that's planning on seeing to the boy. Shaking out of his stupor, he grows deathly sincere. "The young lad here was ambushed not fifteen minutes past in the lower quarters. It was ill luck he stumbled on Plegians hiding in an alley. They attempted to jump the boy before he could sound the alarm, but failed. He managed to grab the alert of several Feroxi warriors on the street before one of the black-hearted knaves put a knife through him."

"Poor kid," I murmur in sympathy. Having been stabbed once myself, I can only imagine the pain he's in.

"Oh!" Lissa gasps in alarm. She pulls her staff closer. "I'll tend to him. Let me see the wound."

"Here!" the lieutenant eagerly exclaims, stepping aside for her to get a closer look.

She pulls away some of the torn material on the squire's clothing. It peels away from the skin in ragged shreds. "Robin, can you get me some clean water?"

I immediately rise from my own chair and go for the pitcher sitting nearby. I scoop it up in one hand and a freshly cleaned rag in the other. I set it down beside her and catch an unfortunate eyeful of the damage done to the boy. I don't think the skin should be that color. The pink of his flesh has started to turn black around the edges of the punctured area, looking almost like charred skin.

"That doesn't look natural," I state withholding the urge to gag.

Lissa tries to prevent her voice from wavering. "No it's not. The blade was poisoned. That's the work of the Plegian basilisk."

We stare at her, breaths held in anticipation as no one knows what to make her words. Realizing everyone is watching her, she breaks into action. Throwing up both arms, Lissa begins to yell out orders like a seasoned general.

"What are you all looking at me for? Didn't you hear what I just said? He's been poisoned! Poi-soned! Get a grip!"

"W-what do we do?" The lieutenant asks nervously.

"You? You can't do anything!" She looks around and runs to a nearby door. She throws it open and ducks inside. A second later, she leaps back out and beckons us in. "Bring him in here for now!"

The three other soldiers pick the squire back up and immediately take him into the confines of the room. Next door, two healers leave and shut the door behind them. The girls shake hands and seem pleased to have finally finished with their patient. From the predatory look in Lissa's eyes, their work is only beginning.

"You two! I need help! Get in this room now!"

The girls looks utterly terrified to see the princess of Ylisse barking orders at them. They practically leave a dust trail with how fast they dive into the room.

"Lissa, how bad is this?"

"Bad, Robin. Really, really bad," she winces. "Plegian basilisks aren't in abundance here so I've only ever seen this once in person. The snake's venom eats away at the victim's skin. It's going to overtake the afflicted area rapidly if I don't neutralize it now! If this has been in his blood for over fifteen minutes, he's already in a dangerous spot. I'm surprised it isn't already spreading as fast as it could! It must have been a weak coating."

"What can I do to help?"

She gazes mournfully up at me. "I don't think you can really help here, Robin. This is serious."

That is her polite way of saying I'll only be in the way. That's fine. I understand. She needs professionals with her. There's only so much I can do before I have to step back and let Lissa do her thing.

Her gratitude only extends a few seconds before she heads back into the room to begin working on the squire. I'm not sure what she has to do but I wish her the best in doing so.

And that's how our partnership for the day ends. I try to go back to making myself useful. The loss of familiar company brings back a certain loneliness, and with it the stifling quiet. It allows my mind to free itself and let all the anxiety of before slip back in from the crevices of my mind.

I pick up the herbs I was mashing before and fall into a robotic pattern. My concept of time becomes crushed alongside the vegetation under the rhythmic scratching of stone on stone working under my hands. It feels like a forever goes by now that Lissa isn't here to distract me from the task. Somewhere between crunch, crunch, crunch of the leaves, I snap out of my daze. The paste I've smeared together is well overdone.

I gaze over and see the door to Lissa's room still shut. Sighing, I get a spoon and scrape out the gray goop inside to a nearby jar. I gather as much as I can and throw a lid on the substance. I read the list that had been set aside for us earlier and realize this is the last healing salve needed for the moment. The healer who gave us this also left the names of the patients these were going to, but had yet to return to do so.

It's not like I have anything better to do now except fall back to stewing in my guilt. Picking up the armful of jars, I grab the list off the table with my free hand and start my long trip of roaming room to room with the goods. The clerics have the rooms marked with makeshift identification making it easy for me to locate the proper recipients. Most doors I come across are answered by blurry-eyed workers thankful for a bit of extra healing power. On the few occasions I don't, I knock extra times and leave the jar next to the doorway. The list isn't long and my trip goes by quickly. I reach the last one sooner than I think.

The door is already partly ajar when I arrive at the room nestled near the end of this hallway. I can hear a young female's voice babbling inside far before I even get close. She sounds very excited about whatever it is she's describing. Standing outside the door, I raise a hand to knock when a familiar giggle causes me to pause.

Nowi?

I push the door open a tad more and peek inside.

"-and then I was like- pffffft!"

Nowi's green hair swirls around her as she dances past the crack in the frame. "FIRE! EVERYWHERE!"

A much deeper, masculine laugh follows from outside my line of sight.

"Little one sounds very ferocious. Cute and dangerous, like very fluffy yet very angry rabbit."

Gregor?

I push the door open all the way and reveal both man and manakete occupying the room. Gregor sits upright at the edge of his bed, bandaged but alive. Nowi stands next to him, tipping her head side to side in amusement. A big grin plumps up both of her cheeks as she turns her dragonstone in her hands.

"Bunnies aren't scary," she smugly points out.

"They can be," he claims in good humor.

"Nuh-uh. All bunnies are innocent and cute! There's nothing scary about them!"

"Ah, not so. For there is one. Have you not heard of him? The terrible Black Beast of- Aaaarrrgh!"

Nowi's grip on the dragonstone slips and the heavy rock falls straight down on Gregor's unprotected right foot. It drops like a deadweight onto his big toe causing him to let out a pained yelp he tries hard to muffle.

"Oops! Sorry Gramps! Didn't mean to drop that on you!" Nowi apologizes loudly while diving for the escaping stone.

Gregor bends over and gently massages the accosted digit. "Is...fine. Could have been much larger, like keep walls. Perhaps, though, Nowi should sit still for some time."

She catches her dragonstone and brings it up to one eye to scrutinize the surface for cracks. "But I'm bored! No one will let me out of this stupid, smelly keep! It's for my own protection they say! Phooey! Like I need protection. I'm a dragon! I can roast whomever I want!"

It's only now that she finally sees me just beyond the edge of her vision. She immediately forgets her stone and claps enthusiastically before diving at me. "Robin! Hiiiii!"

Her strength once again catches me off guard. Nowi's crushing embrace leaves me feeling like a withered leaf.

"Hey Nowi," I gasp. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

As far as I know, she and Nah are being kept located close to the quarters reserved for the most prolific members of the army. Given their identities and endangered status, both are being granted heavy amounts of protection for their own safety. Panne allegedly was offered the same deal but was eventually left to her own devices after escaping undetected for the tenth time.

Nowi backs away and beams up with pride."I got bored sitting in my room cause none of the guards wanted to talk to me then I thought of Gramps sitting alone in his room just like me and he was probably bored too so I thought I would visit and we could get un-bored together isn't that great?"

"Nowi. Breathe," I instruct in partial concern for her deflated form after that long sentence. She sucks in a great breath of air and exhales into a big grin, a small sparkling cloud of smoke puffing out before her.

"Ah-ha! Another surprise for old Gregor! Hearty greetings to you, Robin. How is fellow member of Team Gregor since conclusion of battle?" the mercenary calls out happily from the other end of the room.

"A lot better off than you by the look of it," I greet back, feeling relieved to see him in a better condition than I last left him. "Is our talented team captain recovering alright?"

"Wound was nothing. Give Gregor one brew of Valmese red ale and a good night's sleep," he boasts while pounding on his chest. "Pain gone."

"Yep, you sound more lively than I left you."

"Fitter than fiddles."

God, I wish I had that enthusiasm. I'm jealous. Presenting forth the last jar, I leave it on a nearby table with the collection of other materials his assigned healer needed for his continued treatments. "Here. Passing along some extra relief. Not sure what this does but it's supposed to help your recovery."

"Ah, good. Medicine is next best balm to curing passing hurts."

"Ooo, ooo! What's the first?" Nowi asks curiously, poking the medicine around with one finger.

Gregor looks at her hesitantly, changing his mind at last second. "Fish."

Her head pops up, confused. "Fish?"

"Aye. Natural ooze from fish scales does wondrous things for skin. Very...recommended."

Nowi appears deep in thought over his sagely words. She plays with an idea, clapping both palms together in finality over her decision. "Alright! Just hold on! I'm going to catch you the freshest fish ever so you can slather it everywhere and get better faster!"

"What?" Gregor and I both say in unison.

"Now hold on-" he continues. Nowi ignores him, dashing away in a whirlwind of color. She waves over her shoulder, skipping in large steps out the door.

"Bye! Wish me luck!"

"Nowi!" I call out. She's already gone. The table behind me become my new chair as I sink back on it. I throw Gregor a puzzled stare.

"Fish scales?"

"Eh. Better than original proverb," he admits with shame. Clearing his throat, he recites a set of lyrics from a bawdy tale. "All is well/when in the swell/of a woman's bosom."

"Wow." I blink. "Oh, wow. Where did that come from?"

"Words of wisdom from famous Rosannese mercenary, Raoul the Bastard. Later known as Raoul of the Many Bastards."

I get a flash of Virion in a rugged looking set of adventurer clothes flashing a sparkling smile. All of the female Shepherds lay draped over him in some adoring fashion. At his feet, babies everywhere. I shudder and bury my face in my hands trying to wipe the image away. "Of course he would be Rosannese. The dirty ones are always Rosannese."

Gregor chuckles deeply and reaches for a teacup on the bed stand. The small cup looks ready to crumple in his large hands. He manages to handle it gently and sips at the herbal brew inside. The age lines on his face deepen with his cringe from the roots' bitter taste. Braving it, Gregor tips his head all the way back and downs it in one gulp.

"You know medicine works when liquid tastes like heel of old boots," he sputters between coughs.

I can feel the phantom taste of the same brew I once had to sip during my stay in the medical wing. "I sympathize from experience. I've had my fair share. None too eager to try them again."

"There is much agreement there. Would be no good to see new friends stuck here in hospital wing. Would be much more fun to reunite in livelier setting. Perhaps a tavern? A brawl?"

"A fight?" Gregor's answers never cease to amuse me. I walk over and take the empty cup from his hand, leaving it near the healing station for someone to take later. "Something tells me you have lead a very colorful life."

The mercenary sinks back onto his bed and rests against the wall it's pushed up against. "Ah ha! The stories Gregor could tell, they run numerous like the stars. But the day is young and Gregor too sober to recount such things like old man he is."

I hear that. What I wouldn't do for a stiff drink right now. That could knock me out for a while. I throw him a coy smirk while retrieving the empty kettle. "Maybe I can slip in a different type of medicine for you sometime. The kind that lifts spirits, if you know what I mean."

"Ha ha!" Gregor taps the air, eying me like he's discovered a great treasure. "Good tastes you have. Very good. Gregor impressed!"

"But enough of cranky old men! How are Robin's friends? Gregor hopes young comrades have also made it through the night?"

His question hits an exposed nerve. The teakettle in my hands shakes violently and I slam it hard to the tabletop to rid myself from it. I turn too fast and smile too fake to convince anyone.

"Oh, they're fine. Everyone's great."

Gregor's been around long enough not to be so easily fooled by my shoddy display. He leans forward, hands coming together to rest under his chin. His expression grows more thoughtful despite him keeping his uplifted tone. "Ah. Are they?"

I know a meddlesome look. It's the same on everyone.

"Yes, really. Just worry about getting better, okay?"

"If you speak the truth, there should be great smiles and much happiness in your eyes. Not such gloominess." He sings the next part in an annoyingly knowing tone. "Gregor thinks Robin is lying."

I sniff in annoyance. "Robin is lying but Robin thinks Gregor should mind his own business and focus on recovering."

He animates instantly at my admission, patting at the spot beside him. "Nonsense! Gregor is making it his business. Come, sit. Imagine Gregor as friendly, neighborhood Naga ready to listen to sad woes."

"That's a very disturbing image," I say, denying his invitation to remain where I am.

"Is terrible thing to say! Gregor would make handsome woman. Look at this jawline!" he gasps, running a hand over the underside of his chin.

"For Pete's sake," I whisper under my breath.

"Well?" Gregor offers again to me.

I...I swore last time I wouldn't let something so crippling tie me down again. Holding back before was a mistake. It took to me to a nasty place and left me emotionally compromised. Actually talking about what bothered me last time was the first step to helping me grow free of my issues. And then there's what Sully said. Not to be afraid to talk to the others when I need to. Cripes. I'm doing it again, aren't I? I spent all of yesterday and today slogging about letting my fears and nightmares starts to chain me down. I'll go right back to where I was and turn into an ineffectual lump all over again. That is not what I want! I said never again and I meant it!

Still.

"You're a strange guy, Gregor. You don't even know me and you already want to help shoulder the burdens of my life?"

It's more of a mindless comment than me reprimanding him. I already know he's a Shepherd. I can trust him. His intentions are genuine and well meaning. It's not like this is the first time we're talking. I did stop in to see him yesterday, brief as it was. Even with the knowledge that's he's a Shepherd though, normally I would still have balked at the idea of talking. This might be a good thing though. Anything Gregor says is going to be unbiased and easier to swallow.

Maybe. I don't go into anything anymore expecting an outcome. Nothing is predictable, nor does it seem to make sense. I just go with my gut. My instinct says it wants to get this burden off my chest and this is the best way to do it, weird as it may be.

"Offer is not be all, end all. Merely helpful suggestion of concern for new friend. If you are not comfortable, no worries. Gregor understand. Gregor is just friendly fellow looking out for others."

"That's strange talk for a mercenary."

"Being sellsword does not mean one must be scary all times. Business is business. Does not change what type of man Gregor is."

"True," I agree. While rejecting a place beside him, I do take a seat in an armchair opposite him. "The others who were with me, Marth, Chris, and Tiki, are all fine. You don't need to worry about them."

"Is good. There is much sadness when young ones find misfortune so soon in life."

I take a long breath out and stare at the floor. "It's not anyone you know, but another friend got badly injured during the fight. He's alive but still recovering. They had to do a lot of work on him."

"Ah. That is troubling. But is good he's alive, no? Why such worries?" he asks, puzzled.

"It wouldn't have happened at all if he hadn't..." The feeling aching inside is a weird hybrid of emotion I can't even describe. My foot begins to tap erratically in an attempt to control the overwhelming urge to shout. "The idiot basically sacrificed himself. He pulled me out of harm's way and ended up in the position he is now."

Gregor looks up toward the ceiling piecing together a picture in his head. "Mm. And now Robin feels much guilt for the action of it?"

"Yes," I concede sadly. "It should have been me."

"Also much anger," he continues, nodding in agreement to his own diagnosis of the situation. "Gregor supposes Robin feels as though she could have done something different to have prevented things from happening?"

I stare at him in surprise. "You're good at this."

"I see. Gregor understands."

The man gets up with a bit of struggle. I attempt to help but he holds me back with a raised hand. Finding his balance, Gregor makes his way to a stop before me. He bends down and speaks with what he believes is wisdom for the ages.

"Gregor believes Robin is idiot."

He then raps me hard once on the crown of my head, causing me to duck away. "Ow! Hey! What was that for?"

Gregor folds his arms, staring me down. "There is nothing to feel glum about. Friend made own choices, yes? What is it you could have done? You are not responsible for his actions. Gregor has many doubts Robin could have done anything to change friend's mind."

This time he taps my forehead. "You are upset for wrong reasons."

"Gregor, he's sitting in an induced coma to get over a traumatizing wound all on my account!"

"Yes! This be sad about. But also be hopeful! He is alive. He will wake up! All will pass."

"But-"

Gregor cuts me off. "Would friend want Robin so upset on his behalf? How would friend feel to see you sulking about when all will be well at end of day?"

How would...he feel?

Oh my God. How would he feel?

He'd...Chrom would be pissed. I could see him now. He'd be angry I'm doing the exact opposite of what I promised him I would do. SHIT!

I get it now.

That doesn't change the fact that I'm still upset with him though. I can't just wish that away. "He made such a reckless move, Gregor. He threw himself into danger for my sake. Doesn't he understand that his life means a lot more to everyone else than mine does? It was such a...such a stupid thing to do!"

"Friend is that important?"

"My friend is the Exalt's brother."

Gregor promptly closes his mouth and contemplates the thought. The weight of Chrom's title sinks in slowly. "Ah. Yes. Friend would be very important."

"See," I point out. "I think I'm entitled to be a tiny bit upset about that fact at the very least."

Gregor mulls over the situation a bit more. Instead of supporting me further, he places a hand on my head and smiles! "Gregor think otherwise."

"Gregor!"

"What did Gregor say? Do not get so angry over friend's decision. If anything, you should be happy," he continues. "Clearly, friend values your life more than his own. In big world, he is important. In his teeny-tiny world, you are more important."

I...I...oh boy.

Oh gravy!

If that's true, I'm going to go over into the corner and die.

I slowly lower my face into my hands. Gregor tries to perk me up with a speech. "See Robin, friendship is mysterious thing! Much like grandmother's meat pie. Full of strange things and confusing feelings left in one's stomach. Sometimes pleasant, sometimes full of gurgles. In Gregor's case, mostly gurgles."

"That's an interesting way of putting it," my smothered words leak out between my fingers.

"But true!"

"I guess so."

I'm more important to him than his own safety?

Jeez.

I know how I feel and that's fine. As his retainer, it's obvious that I should feel loyal and willing to give myself up for him. But I never actually thought that...

Goddammit Chrom!

"Is also joke. We are supposed to make with the smiles. Would it not be better for good pal to wake to happy things and not sad?" Gregor asks in concern over my withering form.

I exhale deeply and pick up the pieces of my shaken mind. "You're right. L-lets get off such a gloomy topic then. I'm sure you'd rather spend your time on more lively things than my own problems. How have you been? Nowi too? Have they been treating you well here?"

Gregor hesitates but gives in to the abrupt subject change over seeing my face. He retreats to the bedside once more.

"There is roof overhead, a hot meal in the belly, and good company. Gregor is content as can be."

"Good company, huh? Does that apply to Nowi as well?"

From there, the conversation grows brighter. I'm able to emote better than this morning. I feel more confused now than negative. The situation is still a murky wash of different feelings that isn't being helped by this waiting game I'm stuck in. At least the weight of before isn't as bad. Talking...actually worked. A little. Okay, a lot. It put things into perspective for me anyway.

Feelings are stressful. Everything was so much easier before. Now I just keep ending up in one clusterfuck of emotions after another. Who knew giving a damn about someone could be so stressful?

On the bright side, Nowi and Gregor are doing good here. Gregor isn't being held accountable for any of his participation here in Ironhold. Actually, there are quite a few Plegians and mercenaries who have been acquitted to some extent based on accounts from the survivors. Not everyone here was a monster. Those who voiced opposition often ended up like Gregor. Others stayed quiet but tried to help in other ways, like bringing extra food to the jailed children. These fighters are still being held under a form of imprisonment until Emmeryn comes to deliver a final judgment on their behalf. However, their treatment is coming along much better than those who weren't so merciful.

Gregor is in a comfortable state of house arrest. The rest we captured are enjoying a chilly accommodation in the deepest depths of the keep's jail. A great number of cells are filled, some stuffed with multiple bodies in a way mirroring the same state the recovered prisoners had been in their own cages. The discoveries here at Ironhold haven't helped the attitudes of our army to the Plegians. I heard Maribelle the other day discussing her fear of old prejudices reawakening in the veterans and how it's influencing the younger generations. I hope she's wrong. That's the last thing we need.

Gregor's assigned healer eventually returns and I excuse myself to let him do his work. I try to return to helping but end up drifting about more. Lissa was the one who knew where to go and what to ask for in regards to tasks. The healers rushing about have less patience for my questions on how to find things than Lissa. And since my fellow Shepherd had since found herself caught up in the never-ending flux of healing responsibilities, I was left alone. I've done a good deal of work today, enough to feel fatigue in my bones. I needed a break, maybe some food. I hadn't eaten since morning.

Lissa barely acknowledges my exit. I wonder if she even heard. Regardless, I excuse myself from the wing feeling grateful to get away from the smell of body fluids and sweat. I throw open the door and dance out in glee to stretch out all my limbs.

"Freedom!"

My foot crunches over something odd causing me to look down. A rolled scroll lies squashed underneath. Actually, there's a lot of paper floating all around me. And there's a paper trail on the floor disappearing behind it. And moaning.

Quickly shutting it, I find a girl laying flat on her back slightly dazed. I cringe, realizing I threw the door open right into her.

"Are you alright?" I ask the girl, kneeling down beside her to ease her up.

"Whu-?" she stutters through barely open eyes. "What happened?"

She's wearing the Ylissean insignia meaning she's not on loan from a local duke. Looking over her features, I recognize her as Eldaran's squire. I think her name was Nara?

"Easy getting up. I accidentally knocked you flat with the door there," I warn. I keep a hand at Nara's lower back and take up her arm with my other. She rises slowly off the floor, rubbing her nose with the back of her palm.

"Ow..."

"I am so sorry!" I apologize over and over. "I didn't think anyone was on the other side. I shouldn't have done it so hard."

Nara blinks three times trying to focus on my face.

"Are you okay? Dizzy?"

"I think I'm fine. My nose is...is..." Nara stops. She squints and leans in to stare. Abruptly, her lids open wide and she flails backward.

"Aaaaaaaah!" she screams loudly.

"Wha-!" I shout back in alarm.

She points a shaking finger at my face. "It's you!"

I remain quiet, chest heaving up and down with one hand gripping at my heart.

"I, um, oh dear. Oh dear." Nara starts patting at her face and hair. "Nara, pull yourself together. Right. Okay!"

She rapidly shakes her head and pulls down her tunic. Crawling back before me, she rests on her knees and fumbles into a salute.

"Y-you're Lady Robin!"

The corner of my mouth twitches, unsure what to do. "Yeah?"

"Omigosh," she mutters over and over to herself. After another quick preening, she sits up tall. "Squire Nara, at you service my Lady!"

"That's...great." I ease myself up in a matching position still feeling concern over her batty behavior. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She pauses. "Am I okay?"

"I just whacked you face first with the door there, remember?" I point out to the scattered paperwork and open sack of hers.

"Oh." Her eyes flare open. "Oh! Yes, that happened! It's okay! Really!"

She giggles nervously and reaches for some papers. "It's no problem. Accidents happen. I should be honored actually."

"You're honored I hit you with a door?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I'm beginning to think she should get checked for brain damage.

"Yes! I mean no?" Nara stops and twiddles her fingers. "Maybe?"

Is she nervous? Because of me?

"I'm sorry. I must sound so strange. It's just not every day you get to meet someone so...so..." Nara searches for the right word and then shyly turns her head away. "So amazing!"

And things got strange again.

I pause while picking up a stack of letters. Nara peeks up and sees me watching causing her to duck her blushing face away.

"I should pick these up," she utters quickly, climbing to her feet. Nara begins to grab fistfuls of paper not caring how much she crumples them when throwing them back in her bag.

"Let me help," I say to her. She takes the stack I offer with a half open mouth. "It's the least I could do."

"Naga's knickers," she whispers softly before shaking her head gratefully.

Nara is rendered momentarily mute. There's a lot of papers and time passes awkwardly in the quiet. In an attempt to prevent her further embarrassment, I try to break the ice. Lifting up one of the scrolls, I see it stamped shut with the seal of the Captain of the Guard.

"These are from Ylisstol?" I ask her.

"Y-yes!" Nara shouts loudly. She covers her mouth and shrinks downward. "They're letters from home."

"Letters?"

"Mhm," she says with a much more even tone. "It's the first batch of letters from loved ones back home. It took a while to reach us with the army moving from Fort Tyr to Ironhold Keep. The pegasus riders are still coming in."

Letters from home,huh? I turn the scroll over in my hand imagining who the lucky soldier is to get this. Words of comfort from a loved one. What a perfect thing to get after such harrowing battles. This is going to help a lot of people.

"Eld- I mean General Eldaran has you on mail duty?"

"I'm bringing the officers and important figures theirs." She stiffens, looking proud. "Only the general's squire get the honor of delivering such vital documents to the leaders of the army."

There's something endearing about the pride she has in something so innocent and simple. She has an enviable role. Bringing joy in paper form to the tired soldiers and puppeteers of the war. Who could ask for more?

I hand over the last of my collection and watch it disappear into the depths of her pack. "There's so much to give out though," she says. "It's going to take all day."

"Think of it this way," I encourage her. "You could be the stable masters cleaning gore out from under the hooves of a pegasus."

Her nose wiggles in revulsion. "That's true."

She drops the sack at her feet and pulls the drawstrings shut. "That's the last of it!"

"Better get back to work then. I won't hold you up any longer, Nara. I'm really sorry again for what happened."

"I-it's fine, I said," she blushes again. Nara's fingers rapidly twist and thread through the edges of her pack's strings. She bites her lip with indecision, building up courage for her following request. "If you'd like, there is something you could do."

"Name it."

She gives a small, hopeful smile. "I need to deliver mail to the Shepherds. C-can you take me there?"

There's no denying it now. I think Nara has a hero crush. On me. Me! Hoo boy. I'm not sure if I should be honored or worried for her choice in admiration. Of all the Shepherds...

I'm not in a position to say no after nailing her in the face. It's actually good timing because I was on my way to where the Shepherds have been stationed anyway. I curl my finger at her and turn down the hall in the opposite direction.

I can feel the explosion of excitement burst off of her. It's enough to make me chuckle. It reminds me of my first celebrity crush. Sort of. I can't remember exactly who but I had to have been ten or so. It was some singer. Who was it? He sang that one song. It had that beat like da-da-daaaa, sumthin sumthin blah blah blah...

"...actually exists!"

Nara's voice wedges in between my thoughts. Clearing my mind, I look down at the girl walking beside me. She's absolutely glowing, skipping along with the bag bouncing off her back. She speaks animatedly about my battle in Ylisstol. Her brown eyes reflect brightly up at me.

"That was you, wasn't it? The ancient heroes are alive because you will them to be!"

The Einherjar? "Are you talking about King Marth or Queen Caeda?"

She nods, speechless. Nara's on her tiptoes waiting for my confirmation.

"Uh, yeah. I can."

Nara gasps into both hands. "Whoa."

She scrambles before me, walking backward. "So, you're some kind of special mage then? No mages I know can summon the dead."

"Ha, not quite," I correct her. "They're not so much dead as they are...well, it's complicated. They're, like, here but not here."

"Not a Risen but a ghost?" she tries to guess again.

"Sort of?" I shrug. "It's a shade of who Marth was. He's tangible, but made of magic. I think? It's strange. Believe me kid, trying to explain this is crazy. Best not to think on it too hard."

I sure don't.

"That's so weird," she whispers in awe. Nara falls back in step with me and adjusts the pack on her shoulder.

"Enough about that!" She immediately begins anew. "There's something else I want to know!"

"Go ahead."

"What's it like fighting a dragon?"

How did I guess that was going to come up.

"The one you fought in Ylisstol. I heard it was big enough to fill half the square!" she declares throwing out both arms to show off the size.

"It was the most stressful thing I've ever done," I answer truthfully. "Besides Sir Frederick's training regime, that is."

"Did he use his dragon magic to make the fountain explode? Did he breath fire? Sir Broderick's squire, Harper, said dragons can breath fire from their mouths as well as their..." Nara leans in closer and speaks quietly behind her hand to avoid anyone hearing. "Out of their bungholes."

I explode into a hard laugh that causes me to break into coughs. "Oh really. I think Harper is reading the wrong books. The dragon breathed a sort of magical fire, but only from the mouth."

"I knew it," she states, dropping a closed fist in one palm. "That know-it-all bugger owes me a gold piece!"

Nara's questions keep on rolling and leave me occupied the rest of the way. We arrive at the section of the main keep designated strictly for the Shepherds. The time here went quickly under her quick draw interrogating. Originally designated for visiting nobility, it's been converted to our new housing situation for the time being. That means real beds. Hell yeah.

The main drawing room is big enough to entertain a small party leaving plenty of room for us Shepherds to do our own thing. Upon opening the door, I find a few comrades already inhabiting the area with their own activities. Sumia and Cordelia have a small knitting project going on before the fireplace. Miriel has claimed the corner window all to herself hidden behind her castle of books. At the center table, Vaike and Stahl chat over a freshly abandoned card game.

I hold the door open for Nara and she ducks under my arm to enter. She nearly loses her grip on her bag seeing the other Shepherds scattered about.

"Come on, don't be shy," I whisper to her before continuing on.

Stahl is the first to see us. He gets up from his chair and waves. "Robin! Over here!"

"Hey guys," I call out in greeting to everyone. I sink gratefully into the plush seating of the couch Stahl welcomes me to. I stretch both arms over my head and let them fall to my stomach.

"So you survived Fred's training too?" Vaike chuckles. He reclines back and folds both arms behind his head. "After this morning's run, I haven't seen half of the Shepherds."

"Last I saw of Ricken, the kid was still trying to peel himself off the gravel," I joke.

"Poor guy. He looked so hot in all those robes," Stahl laments on behalf of my fellow mage.

"No kidding. I don't think it would kill him to lay off the layers. He isn't in the academy anymore so the rules of uniform don't apply."

"You've got a point. All that heavy fabric is just a burden. It'll weigh him down as he sweats, restricts movement," Vaike agrees. He lets an arm hang over the back of his couch and twists about to yell back. "Gotta be free, let the skin breath for the best results in training. Ain't that right Miriel? "

The red headed mage peeps out between a hole in her book towers. "True. It has been shown heavy layers can inhibit the full breadth of movement in ones musculature, thus limiting the full development of one's physical framing."

"Exactly. Why do ya think I train this way?" he states proudly with a sweep over his bare torso. "The Vaike cuts no corners when striving to reach the body's ultimate potential."

Cordelia's voice cuts in sharply to interrupt his flexing. "Vaike, I believe that is enough from you. There's a child standing right there."

Everyone's attention goes to the girl hiding behind me. She sinks lower behind couch to hide from her new audience.

Stahl, noticing her stress, calmly holds out a hand in greeting to her. "Hello there. I didn't see you before."

She stands frozen gazing at his outstretched palm. I think her brain has overloaded from the sight of all these Shepherds. Coming to her rescue, I give out an introduction.

"Stahl, this is Nara. She's General Eldaran's squire, currently blessed with the all important role of mail duty."

"Mail?" Sumia pipes up, dropping her handiwork in her lap.

Nara is too caught up in Stahl's shadow to answer. She slowly extends a hand, mesmerized at being able to grasp his own. "You're Sir Stahl, the best horseback rider we have."

He shrugs bashfully and gives her a polite shake. "That's my name! I'm afraid I'm no 'Sir' yet. Knighthood is the end goal though. I'm not sure how true the second part is either. I think someone may have fabricated the extent of my abilities."

Stahl keeps shaking hands with her but Nara has yet to let go. She's firmly glued in place watching him in shock.

Vaike nearly spits up his drink and slams it down before he loses anymore. "Stahl, buddy, I think you broke her."

"The appropriate terminology, I believe, would be starstruck. She is clearly overwhelmed by the presence of a heralded superior," Miriel speaks upon her arrival. She reaches down to retrieve a book from the table and makes eye contact with Vaike. He gives her a winning smile that clashes with her neutral features.

"I suppose that's right. I am awesome. Who wouldn't be in awe of me?"

"Vaike, I was speaking of Stahl."

Nara abruptly breaks from her stupor. She rips her hand away from Stahl and nearly hits him with the sack she brings off her back.

"I have things!" she yells out loud.

"P-pardon?" Stahl stutters at her outburst.

"Letters, I mean! I have a letter for you!" she corrects herself before diving elbow deep into the bag.

Vaike casually gets up and meanders over, throwing an arm over Stahl's shoulder so they hang together. He lays a false punches to the cavalier's ribs. "Careful Stahl, I think it's a love confession."

"Vaike, that's not nice. Don't tease the poor thing," Cordelia interjects again. Vaike retorts by raising his hand and mouthing it in a mocking fashion of her scolding. She slams her knitting down and glowers at the back of his head.

"It's not just him. Everyone!" Nara states, coming up with an armful of assorted parcels and letters. "Oh jeez, so many of you."

She steps around her bag and starts to hand out the mail to each respective Shepherd. "Sorry if it's sort of sweaty."

After Nara finishes with the Shepherds here, she leaves the remaining ones for the others when they return from their respective tasks. There's one for everyone. Except...me.

But it's great everyone else has one! I'm sure they need the morale boost! Who wouldn't? Nothing is more comforting than knowing you're loved ones are safe. That-that home is still there. Waiting for you.

Must be nice.

"The others will be around at some point. We'll make sure they get them Nara," Sumia assures the girl with a reassuring pat to the top of the letter pile.

"Thank you!" Nara salutes. "General Eldaran will be happy to know-"

She jumps at the pile and fishes out a stack tied heavily together.

"Oh no! I was supposed to take these directly to Sir Frederick! He needed to get them right away!"

She darts around the couch and nearly trips over the rug trying to pick up her bag. "I-I have to go! Sorry! I'm in soooo much trouble!"

Before anyone can say anything, she runs for the door. She pauses just a moment to run back to me and bow. "Uh, thank you! Thank you for letting me meet you! No one is going to believe me!"

And with that, Nara retreats in mad rush out of the room.

"What a darling girl," Cordelia laughs lightly. She sits down next to me and lays out her three letters.

"That's a lot leftover. Joking aside, I'm surprised there's not as many of us back," I comment over the remaining letters.

"We had more here, you just missed them. I know Sully went to go talk with the quartermaster about securing new horse armor for Honor and Thyme. We're both worried they're lacking the adequate protection after last battle," Stahl answers amid tearing open his own gift.

"Virion was here too. Left a perfectly good card game after someone announced a carrier bird arrived for him," Vaike also throws out.

"He must be very important to have his own private messenger bird," Sumia comments idly as she sits on my other side.

"I'm sure wherever they are, they'll eventually find their way here. Once word catches out that we have mail, they'll run over," Stahl states in agreement.

It's like Christmas watching my friends tear into their respective mail. Sumia is the first to break open her parcel. She coos in excitement while lifting the lid.

"I'm so excited to know what's inside. I haven't heard word from anyone in so long!"

The box opens to reveal a large assortment of goods contained in her care package. She reaches in and begins to place various objects before her. Over time, one gift comes to outnumber the rest.

"Oh dear," Stahl gazes on in worry. "Sumia, that's a lot of bandages."

Sumia giggles nervously and starts pushing the numerous rolls back in the box. "Mama is always concerned about my health."

"And rightly so," Cordelia remarks. "If you would stop walking with your nose in a book then maybe you wouldn't end up with half the marks you do."

"Speaking of books, Robin look!" Sumia gasps happily. "My family may not have the wealth we once did, but Mama's name still has some weight. Look what she managed to charm an early copy of for us!" She pulls out a red covered book with gold stitching. A familiar heart is etched on the spine and a number two above it. My heart nearly stops. I greedily pull it from her grasp and flip it over.

Lady Nesbit's Enticing Adventures Down Under.

Cordelia sees the title and shivers with surprise. She turns the same shade as her hair and squints in shame at her friend. "Sumia!"

I'm practically hopping out of my seat. I pass it back to her, both of our eyes glittering in excitement. "I can't believe your mom sent you the sequel! This is amazing!" I squeal in joy.

"Robin!" Cordelia gasps at me this time.

I swivel around and give the poor redhead a mischievous grin. It's no secret Cordelia is a romantic. But it's also her weakness. She enjoys the innocent tales spun of chivalry and proper courtship. Bawdy works are a whole other matter. Nothing embarrasses Cordelia more than the edgy, improper romances (or so she claims) that Sumia and I read.

"What is it Cordelia? Are you curious?" I tease.

She bristles and looks promptly away. "Absolutely not!"

"Too bad. Let us know when you want to graduate from the juvenile ones you're reading now for some real romance."

"They are not..." Sumia shushes her friend with a few words and makes peace by showing Cordelia a novel more to her tastes.

Across from me, Vaike is reading through several pages penned by his family. What catches my eye are the crafts on the table. Three pictures sketched with colored drawing sticks exhibit the raw talents of a child prodigy. One shows a blocky looking girl with dark hair holding up what looks like a two headed chicken on the backdrop of a raging fire. Or maybe an exploding barrel? The second shows the same girl riding a fuzzy brown blob with a pitchfork held high in her hand. I think she's battling bunnies surrounded by a clouds. The last shows her trying to lift a watermelon while a really tall, yellow haired triangle man hoists tree trunks on both arms way bigger than his head.

"Vaike, those are so adorable," I comment over the funny assortment.

He lowers his letters and peers down at the pictures. Vaike's gaze softens as his fingertips brush the edge of one. "Heh, right? It ain't just that."

He sets the papers aside and reaches down to his feet.

"I was able to send the old man a little extra from my stipend last month? Says he gave my sister extra for these projects. The little runt's got a knack for the artsy stuff. She could show Teach a thing or two."

He places five woven figures on the table for everyone to see. "Val made the family. She says she made 'em so I got everyone with me even when I'm far off."

There's five dolls total. There's two tall ones, male and female must be his parents. Two more males are just a bit smaller than them. I'm assuming one is Vaike and the other a brother. The last is a female and a lot smaller than all the rest. She stands out because the first four have the same blonde yarn for hair. The little one has midnight black hair.

Miriel picks his sister's doll up and appraises the work on it. "The stitching is exquisite. She has quite the eye."

"Ain't she somethin?" He grins with genuine affection. "Pisses the hell outta our brother Vic. I got the brawn and she got the brains and beauty. Thinks he got stiffed when it comes to talent."

"I'm sure he'll find his talents one day," Cordelia reassures him over her own reading. Two of the letters have already been crumpled and tossed to the side. The seals of two noble houses lie broken beside them as do several expensive looking trinkets. More letters from Cordelia's admirers I assume.

"What about you Cordelia? Is everything alright back home?" Sumia asks her friend.

Cordelia sighs. "Oh, nothing much. Father and Mother send their regards, as usual. Mother is trying to maintain some form of decorum amid the madness and plans to host some sort of soiree within the month. Father's lumber mills are booming with the restoration work and my cousin is with child. Little else to say, which I am relieved to admit. With all that has been happening around us, hearing the normalcy of their lives going unhindered seems heartening. Mother did manage to send me a new comb though."

"That's lovely Cordelia! It matches your eyes!"

"Does it?" She holds the comb up and begins to mess with her hair to try and fit it in among her numerous silken strands. I would kill to have hair like that.

"Miriel, aren't you going to open yours?" I ask her. The thinly folded parchment lies undisturbed among the others.

"Hm?" Miriel lowers her book on ancient magics and looks to me in question.

"Your letter? Don't you want to know what's happening back home?"

"I doubt there is little to say." Setting aside her book, she waves a glowing green palm over the paper. "However, I will do so. Curiosity has been affecting my ability to finish this chapter."

The parchment glows and leaps off the tabletop. The seal undoes itself and folds the paper open at the crease. An explosion of sheaves burst out and land in a neat pile before her. This one page has suddenly burst into thirty!

Miriel takes the stack and taps it against the table until they fall perfectly together. Leafing through it, she laments in disinterest. "Ah, just as I thought. Hardly any news."

"W-what just happened?" Sumia asks.

"It had something to do with wind magic, that's all I can say," I answer. Whatever occurred, it was pretty astounding.

"Very astute of you, Robin. Your senses are improving," Miriel congratulates me. "What you witnessed is a compression spell. The papers were tightly pressed together for maximum space during travel. Once released, they are free to spring apart."

Ah, kind of like a vacuum seal! How cool is that?

"For a seeming lack of news, there is quite the stack of paper there," Cordelia points out.

"Hardly." Miriel skims over a few pages. "As expected, my colleagues have expressed a disappointing lack of evidence in several trials I had asked them to execute based on my findings among the Risen and Robin's so called encounter with water magic. It appears none have proven factual."

Great here we go again. "You're still hung up on the water thing?"

Ever since Chrom and I reported on Algidus' ice magic, Miriel has been having a fit. I stayed up with her one night until the early morning hours getting grilled by her for every bit of information I could offer on what I witnessed. Since then, she's been running personal experiments to try and tap into the same magic vein.

Miriel readjusts her glasses, enhancing her critical stare. "The domain of water is a mythical practice attributed only to the now extinct ice dragon tribe. If what you witnessed was no phantasm, this revelation could be greatest discovery of this century."

Unlike light magic, there's no evidence of humans practicing the magic ice dragons could do. Commanding water in all three of its forms, the branch was named such instead of ice because of that versatility. Since ice dragons supposedly died out before even Grima, no one in current history has actual evidence of such practices existing beyond myths. Old tales raise possibilities for scientists like Miriel, but never stand as concrete evidence.

I pick up a few pages off the top and read a the lines. The text makes my head spin with scientific jargon beyond my comprehension. "And all these pages are just experimental facts?"

"Hypotheses. Nothing more. Incompetence, my most deplorable adversary, has struck my team." She takes them back from me and readjusts the pile. "This is why I am doing my best to set aside time for Ricken and yourself to pursue private experiments with me."

"Oh boy. I can't wait," I gripe under my breath.

"Everything good with ya, Stahl? You've been quiet," Vaike asks his neighbor with a gentle elbowing.

Stahl appears to be drinking in the very text. It looks like it pains him to look away from the papers clenched in his fists. He blinks quickly and sniffs.

"Updates, mainly. Everyone is safe, thankfully. We live south and west of Ylisstol. Our village was right on the edge of everything and didn't evacuate as quickly as others did. Looks like they got out though. Most of the family is going east to my aunt's while my parents are taking their medicinal expertise to Ylisstol. They feel they can do some good there among the civilian recuperation."

He pushes forth a different sheet of parchment sitting in front of several empty vials and leather bags. "Of course my brother, ever the businessman, has sent a list for foreign ingredients to acquire. Not even a war can dull his entrepreneurial spirit."

"May I?" Sumia asks with a gesture to the list. Stahl relents and she reaches over me to take it. Reading over the ingredients, recognition dawns on her.

"I know of most of these! If you need help, I can always keep an eye out for you Stahl."

"That's swell of you to offer Sumia. Thanks," he happily answers. Sumia hands the list back to him. Their fingers touch briefly in the exchange causing Sumia to flush slightly. "I know you needed mint for your hobby, and I have need of some jack root. They typically grow together so we can help each other."

Cordelia gazes suspiciously between the two at Stahl's mention of Sumia's hobby. Our friend doesn't openly advertise her fortune telling interests. Very few people know about it. The fact that she's told Stahl says a whole lot. So does the way Sumia is cradling the hand that touched his so affectionately.

Is this happening? For real? Is Sumia legit crushing on Stahl? No false alarms or misinterpretations. It was getting suspicious before but now...

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. It's dangerous to do anything alone nowadays. Having a partner with you when I'm not around will ease my fears," Cordelia voices in appreciation.

"You think?" Sumia perks up.

"Absolutely. Risen have been proven to be anywhere. Or even enemy scouts. It never hurts to have an extra set of eyes on your back. Isn't that right Stahl?"

Stahl casually agrees with Cordelia, not realizing her game. She's leading him into a trap. A date trap. As Sumia literal wing-woman, it's up to her to help things along. Stahl is going right along with it. Vaike catches my eye and nudges his head in both of the blossoming couple's direction to confirm his own suspicions. I can't really answer him without looking obvious.

Cordelia edges over the table, eying him with the critical appraisal of a seasoned matchmaker. "Do you know what is a good idea after a long hike, Stahl?"

"I'm not sure, what?" He responds innocently.

"A good meal. One must always keep their strength up. You two must make sure to eat properly afterward. Preferably together."

Stahl regards her comment with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes briefly flickering to Sumia. I wonder what he's thinking? "We do that everyday, regardless. The army always eats breakfast and dinner at the same times."

"But you can do it together," Cordelia corrects him. She enunciates each part getting closer and closer to him. "With a picnic basket. Under the stars."

Fearing this will get out of control, I gently ease the aggressive pegasus knight back onto the couch. "No one searches for herbs in the middle of the night, Cordelia."

"Perhaps twilight then? While there is still light yet retaining the atmosphere of the days' final moments toward quiet and calm?" she ponders dreamily.

"Only in your sappy daydreams."

Sumia lets out a hoarse, forced laugh. Her shoulders are hunched together as if to shield her face from her best friend's antics. "Never mind her Stahl. We'll go when we can."

"Alright," he answers. Stahl's wary eye has yet to leave Sumia. "I guess I'm just a little confused at why such a big deal is being made about a simple hunt for herbs."

Vaike leans over and gives Stahl a pitiful look only made worse as he pats his arm in false empathy.

"Stahl, my friend, you've been targeted. Don't fight it. Just go with it. Trust me from experience, it'll only end badly if you do."

"Targeted? Did I do something wrong?" The man opposite us starts to panic, his internal reasoning taking a turn in the wrong direction. Stahl is too good a guy to leave any errors he's done unchecked. Vaike's making him panic for nothing! "Sumia, if I've done something to make you mad then I'm sorry for, uh, whatever it is! Was it the tea I made? You didn't seem to like it."

He made her tea? When was this?

"No!" Sumia quickly stands in fear. "I'm not angry at all! I, um, I...uh..."

"Gracious!" Miriel blurts out. She slams her book shut and places it in her lap. Her piercing eyes leap over each of us, stabbing us through to submission. "Stahl, Sumia is experiencing a heightened surge in hormonal activity signaling to her body an eagerness to explore your potential for future mating. By engaging in courtship-like activities as suggested by Cordelia, Sumia will be able to better understand whether she wishes to continue pursuing a permanent state of monogamy with you. Does this suffice in clearing your confusion?"

Sumia's mouth drops open. Vaike looks ready to explode into laughter and all I can do is glare at both Cordelia and Miriel.

"I...," Stahl winces.

"Then allow me to make it clearer if there are any lingering doubts," Miriel states with a stony, unforgiving face.

"Miriel, leave it alone," I plead.

Our resident mage extraordinaire declares her prognosis in the most unsympathetic, text book style enunciation she can. "In layman's terms, Sumia has developed a romantic, and potentially sexual, interest in yourself. Cordelia is attempting convince an outing of courtship which you are too befuddled from conflicting sources to pick up on at this moment."

Oh for gods' sakes!

"Miriel!" I yell angrily. Don't get me wrong, I think Sumia and Stahl getting together would be cute as all hells. Well, as long as this isn't go to blow up the time stream somehow. But if it can! It should happen naturally! Not...like this.

Miriel rebukes me with another harsh glare. She picks up her book again and flips to her saved spot. "This roundabout nonsense is irritating. Simply say what you must or say nothing at all. There is nothing mystifying about acquiring romantic liaisons. Either there is interest or there is none. Life is better spent on more pressing matters than this."

"I'm going to melt away now," Sumia whimpers. Breaking from her state of horror, she hides her face away and stumbles to get around the table.

"I should go! I think I forgot my clothes in the oven! I mean my pie on the washing basket! Excuse me!"

She dashes off toward ours bedrooms and slams the door behind her. The rest of us remain locked in a frozen state of shock over what just happened, the quiet only broken by the crisp flick of Miriel's book pages.

Stahl eventually breaks from his glossy-eyed stupor and leaps to his feet. Miriel's words have finally sunk in leaving him as equally flustered looking as Sumia. He actually hops over the arm of the chair and runs after her.

"Criminey! Sumia, wait!"

The door shuts again and it charms us back to life. Cordelia grows darker than a rain cloud, thunderbolts shooting at the other redhead. "Miriel, how could you do that?"

The mage licks the corner of her thumb before separating two stuck pages. She doesn't even spare a glance from her text. "Stahl has often demonstrated an excellent empathetic awareness towards his peers. There is an almost one hundred percent certainty he is aware of Sumia's growing interest. My theory is he has yet to decide upon where his best interests lie regarding his own status against the assumed superiority of a prince's reputation to his own."

"I gotta admit, she's got a point there," Vaike sulks lightly. "Chrom's a beacon for the ladies. Lucky dastard."

"I'm sure you have your own merits, Vaike," I reassure him though I have no idea why. I'm sure his ego is more than fine. All I did was stoke the fire more.

Miriel glances sharply at him from over the rim of her glasses. Her eyes rake over him briefly before resuming their prior focus. "From an unbiased point of view, you are far superior in terms of the ideal masculine form. The curvature of your gluteus maximus is quite appealing to the eye."

"I suppose I can't argue that one," he grins cheekily. His flirtatious nudging ends with a flick to the nose. It doesn't seem to bother him at all though. I guess Laurent doesn't have to worry anytime soon about his birth happening.

"Must you have said it so straightforward though, Miriel? Love requires patience and time to bloom. Just thrusting it upon them is not going to do either any good," Cordelia argues. She seems torn between going after the two and letting them settle things themselves.

"On the contrary. We humans demonstrate a severe lack of inhibition when thoroughly aroused enough. Pursuing one's passions happens more frequently in the heat of the moment than you would believe."

"That's not love, Miriel. That's...lust."

Miriel puts her book aside looking thrilled with the idea of a philosophical debate. "Can both not be synonymous with each other? Both require a mutual attraction between two parties and an overwhelming design for intimacy of some level, be it physical or spiritual."

"Love is a pure, wonderful thing. Lust is just a shallow, tempestuous sensation that can disappear just as easily as it came," Cordelia counterattacks.

"That is debatable. The negative connotation behind it is a psychological response attributed to its condemnation by the church in our daily lifestyles. In reality, there is nothing proven to brand this sensation of "lust" as anything inherently evil."

"Of course," Miriel quickly adds, "you are freely allowed to believe as you will. I have no intentions of belittling or refuting you Cordelia. It is simply my ill habit of clarifying the air of alleged misconceptions. That is all."

"Lady Robin!"

Oh thank God! Someone's here to distract me from this mess!

"Nara?" I utter in surprise at her return. She's bent over both knees breathing in broken gasps. She holds out one clenched fist toward me.

"I forgot one! I'm so sorry!" She thrusts it further toward my face. "Here! For you!"

My heart stops. What?

Nara sniffs a great glob of mucus and throws the scroll at me. She shoulders her pack and runs off again. "Gotta go!"

I flip the parchment over. The seal closing it shows a windmill on a lone hill. The crest of Southtown.

Who-

No. It couldn't be. Could it?

I quietly excuse myself from the activity of the drawing room for privacy. I feel like I want to read this alone. This letter is so much more than that. It's my first real connection to something. It's hard to explain. It's the fact that I actually got something that makes me feel grounded for once. I'm truly a part of this world now.

It's weird. Exhilarating.

My feet take me to the open balcony. The large semi-circular outcropping hosts some natural vegetation groomed for aesthetics. The winds are constantly whistling about at this level keeping the noise of the city below away. It's a private haven for visitors to enjoy some peaceful solitude. A perfect place to read. I walk directly to the bench closest to the edge. The view is breathtaking offering a panoramic shot of the city below and the very edge of the plains beyond.

I break the seal with an unnerving slowness, savoring the feeling of the mystery. It's fairly obvious to me who it is, but the feeling is still tempting. Once revealed, I slip out the note and unfold it before my eyes.

---

Dear Robin,

I do hope this finds you properly. I have to confess, I wasn't sure who I should address this to. Are you a proper lady? Do I have this sent to the castle? The army? The Shepherds? You will have to thank Markus for me. He's the one who said he'd manage to get it through to the right people.

Ever since the war has started I've been visiting Naga's shrine to pray for our brave warriors. I was able to evacuate from the city before Ylisstol was besieged. I saw the glow of battle from on the horizon. When I returned, I could not help but weep at what had become of our fair capital. Even more so, for the wounded and dead. Markus was one of the few lieutenants sent to protect the evacuation process and I bless Naga every day for taking him from the action. I cannot imagine what I would have done if he was one of our poor, courageous fallen heroes. I sent him to immediately find out your status and those our your friends. I am relieved to hear you not only survived, but managed to fight a living dragon! A true myth come to life! I cannot imagine what it must have been like to battle such a menacing creature. To think Plegia has connections with such creatures. I worry what else it may be that you encounter as you continue this war. I must ask that you stay safe. Please. I could not bear to tell Tomas his hero has sacrificed herself for the good of Ylisstol. Heroes remain such whether in death or life, but I much prefer the living.

And speaking of my son, the silly boy has asked to send his own gift with. Perhaps it is a mother's bias, but I believe Tomas has a future in artistry. He wasn't sure what color the dragon was so he went with them all. He also wishes me to tell you good luck and that he will save one piece of hard candy from his allowance every week for you. That way you must return or you will waste the candy. Oh, isn't the logic of a child so precious? I miss such innocence.

Markus sends his greetings as well. He is busy helping with the city's rebuilding. I travel back and forth every four days as envoy for the southern lords and ladies. We've been bringing what aid we can to the city and taking in displaced citizens whose homes have been destroyed. The work is hard and every time I return to Ylisstol, Markus seems a bit more tired. In good news though, we have had little dealings with Risen. While they continue to roam about, they've been cleared from the more popular areas. As long as I remain on the roads, I have yet to encounter one. I hope it brings some small solace that our people are recovering and remaining safe. It takes days for news to come between the front line and Ylisstol so it will be some time before I hear the next update of the army's progress. Still, I remain constant in my visits to the altar and hope my simple prayers reach Naga's ear.

Perhaps it is not my place to say, but I do have a request for you Robin. Though I know you would prefer to remain humble about it, you must acknowledge that you are in a position of power among the army. Your actions will be watched and many will follow the influences you press upon them. As such, I would like to make a simple request.

There is a war between Plegia and Ylisse. This is a fact. Lives will be lost. But such losses should only be felt on the battlefield. There are many people, simple folk, who are merely trying to live their own lives amid the machinations of the evil that forces these events to take place. If you encounter these farmers,peddlers, and the like, please show them mercy. It must be strange to hear coming from a woman whose whole life was turned upside down by the very people who did it to her. But the men who attacked Southtown are not the same as the baker in Plegia's capital or the fisherman on the shores of the South Sea. Not everyone is to blame, thus not everyone must become a victim. There is a long standing cycle of hatred that needs to be broken between the Ylisseans and the Plegians. We were all once the same people, divided only by religious ideals. These wars we've fought over and over again have proven nothing, only shedding more blood and generations of hate. I humbly ask you remember the small folk. There is no justice in radical prejudices when we were all once brothers and sisters of a united empire.

My, I did not mean for this to turn into a political speech. Perhaps it is because I became a victim of circumstance that I understand what it's like to endure such trauma. Imagining others going through the same horrors as I keeps me awake at night. I do not wish a mother's fear for her child on another woman, nor an orphan's sadness over a lost parent. You are under no obligation for any of this, but I know you to be a good woman. I hope in my heart that you will help win us this war, but in a way that will finally end all wars together. Please help achieve our Exalt's dream of peace. I don't want my son to grow up in a world where he fears and reviles his neighbors.

Not all Plegians are bad, nor to blame. This is true for Ylisseans. Not all are good nor blameless. We are all just human looking for ways to live our lives.

I wish I had more to say but I highly doubt the numbers work and supply manifests I organize are anywhere near as entertaining as the experiences you endure on the field. Perhaps next letter I shall have something more meaningful to add.

I do hope to hear from you. I would very, very much like to continue this friendship of ours. It is not everyday a small town woman such as I makes the acquaintance with another who is on the cusp of history's great events. The stories you have to share would be fascinating to hear. I know Tomas would love them, even if he is still too shy to admit to it. If you are not opposed to further correspondence, simply have the letters sent to Markus in Ylisstol's city guard barracks. He will get it much quicker that way.

At this point I feel as if I am rambling. So I shall end it here. Stay strong and stay safe Robin. The world is a harsh place, but there are people such as you and I doing our best to make it a little more right in our own ways. May Naga bless each step you take and may the gods of old grant you victory.

I wish you all the best and hope to hear from you soon.

Ginette

---

A page slips out from behind. Like the one Vaike's sister made, colors and a child's imagination bring Tomas' picture to life. His interpretation of the square in Ylisstol is that of a bright green blob of leaves wreathed by a fiery looking dome around it. A multicolored lizard sits on all four limbs at the base of it. The wings look smashed onto the back and its tongue flicks out in bright pink.

A blue and silver blob person shoots squiggly lines of green, yellow, and red at the lizard's head. I have to appreciate the emphasis on how angry and steep he makes my eyebrows.

It's honestly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I can't think. I can't speak. I have something. A memento of my own. A sign of belonging.

How did something so simple become such a powerful symbol for me? Back home, I barely even considered the mail. Most hit the trash can before I read them. I couldn't care less about what ended up in my mailbox.

Yet here's this single letter, the first I've received in so long, and it makes me want to cry. It's more precious than gold.

I hold them close to my chest, careful not to wrinkle them. I close my eyes and lean back, emptying my mind. I want to block out everything else and just savor this moment. A simple, human joy of being alive and appreciated.

The cool mountain breeze blows over my face, ruffling my hair. In contrast, the sun beats down creating a pleasant warmth when the wind fades. I get lost in it all, pretending for a bit that things are normal. That I'm back home on the front porch sitting on the bench I took from my mother's old house. White and chipped in places from the accumulation of salt spray from the ocean. The tree behind me rustling like the old oak in the front yard. My awareness fades as much as time does. The comfort of the moment turns to drowsiness, then almost total blackness. I'm on the very edge of sleep when-

"You look thoughtful."

I fall sideways, snatching the back of the bench to save myself from falling off the side. In the blur of the sun, I almost think it's Chrom sitting next to me. Then the picture sharpens and the blues form into someone else.

"Way to give me a heart attack," I scold his daughter with no shame.

"My apologies. I merely came for some time to think and found you already here," Lucina murmurs with a hint of a smile from the other end of the bench. Her eyes, so similar to her father's, rests on the parchment in my lap. "A letter? You received one as well?"

"Yeah! Can you believe it?" I stretch my back feeling the pops in my bones. "Who would have thought?"

"I see."

"You aren't curious who it's from?"

"It is not my business to ask."

Maybe it's better I don't mention it for now. I don't want to scare her away from our conversation. I've hardly seen her since the battle's end. Though, she has had more important things to worry about. Gods know we both have been on edge about Chrom's condition.

I do away with the pleasantries and settle back, jumping straight to obvious question. I can tell she already expects it.

"How is he?"

Lucina stares straight ahead, thumbs pressing up against something hidden in her lap. "Libra has worked his magic. My father will remain sleeping another day or so as they continue to finish their work."

"Anything bad I should know off? Is everything still going smoothly?"

"Is there any reason to think otherwise?" she scoffs. "He is a prince of the realm. All must go well or their reputations could be damned for the rest of their lives."

"Fair point. Good to know though."

She shifts to a cross-legged position to grow more comfortable. While moving, I can see what she keeps toying with in her lap. It's the broken halves of her mask.

"You still have that thing?" I ask too quickly to realize.

Lucina doesn't seem bothered by it. She lifts one half and turns it in the light. "Gerome made it. Another of my disappeared comrades if you recall."

"I do," I speak sadly. "I remember them all."

"That would make us the only two who do," she sighs. Lucina raises the other half and places the two sides perfectly together. "He was the only one of us able to detach himself from the situation. It was something not even Laurent could do. To fully divorce one's emotions from themselves."

She rests the complete piece over the bridge of her nose. "With his own mask, he was able to become someone else. An unstoppable force searching out naught but victory for our cause."

"Really? I heard he was pretty affectionate with his wyvern. Minervy-kins was his pet name if I remember?" I joke. It garners no reaction.

"That was before everything. He was a sweet boy from the few times he visited from Rosanne, save for when he fell into sulking fits if he did not get his way. Gerome was a far different man when he came to the resistance. His time alone greatly affected his view of the world."

Lucina pulls the two pieces apart once more and lets her true face show. "I admired that stoicism and I thought to mimic it. Yes, this mask was meant to hide my identity. But I had hoped it to have the same affect on me as it did him. I thought I could hide away my emotions so my actions could no longer be colored by their influence. I succeeded, for a time."

Her words turn bitter, fists tightening. "Even the disappearance of the last few I held dear became nothing to me. At least, that is how strong my denial was."

The former peace of the environment crumbles away.

"I assume something changed that?" I question weakly.

"You."

It's hardly a whisper, so small I could barely catch it. Lucina's eyes flash with emotion as she whirls on me with new found feelings. I can't help but lean away from her overwhelming intensity.

"You!" she says louder. "You and that damnable hope you keep spouting about. About how everything can go back to how it once was. Your promises of bringing my family, my friends, my-my home to what it once was."

"And we're succeeding. Just look around you!" I speak in reference to the keep we fought so hard to free. It's a weak reasoning that doesn't hold up strongly against her sudden barrage of emotion. I'm thrown off by the quick change in conversation. As if sensing this, Lucina settles back to calm herself. She fidgets with nervousness, both hands going to push her hair quickly behind her ears.

"That means nothing. You will still fail, you simply cannot see this yet."

My thoughts are floating all around my head, scattered by her outburst. She clams up, her intent to reach this point not what she initially planned. I sure wasn't expecting it.

Before I can say anything, she abruptly stands. "We need a more private setting."

"Okay?"

"Follow me."

She darts around the bench leaving me behind. I get on my knees and call out to her from over the back rest. "Wait a minute!"

Lucina stops in the middle of the balcony, the wind blowing her cape and hair around to fashion the princess into her own heroic statue. "I thought you wanted answers."

"That's what we're doing?" I blather, leaping to my feet. "I didn't know! I thought you needed time!"

"I did. Now that time has passed. You are here and I have spoken more than I should have. We should end what has begun."

I fold away Ginette's letter and Tomas' picture as neatly as I can to my coat pocket. Lucina begins to walk away once more causing me to make great leaps to catch up with her. She leads me in silence to her own room. It's no different than mine. Despite there being a rising awareness of who she might actually be in relation to the Exalt, Lucina and Owain aren't flaunting that relationship for their own safety.

Lucina points to the table and walks herself to the stand nearby. She stops beside a white kettle and pours herself a cup. Frederick's doing most likely.

"Tea?" she asks without looking up.

"Sure."

She pours the earthy smelling brew and takes a cup in both hands. Presenting mine, I take it gratefully. Smelling it, I can already tell this is the same bitter tea Emmeryn and Chrom like. Yuck.

"It is still warm so it should be good," she comments idly, stirring it with her spoon. Her motions come to a halt as she watches me take pile after pile of sugar to my own.

"Sorry, did you need some?" I ask, offering the sugar bowl to her.

She pushes it back with the tip of her spoon. "I'm simply astounded by the mound you are piling in the center. You are going to lose all taste to the sugar."

"I like it sweet." I quickly, and maybe a bit guiltily, lob in three more scoops before putting the almost empty bowl to the side. "Really, really sweet."

I take a sip and savor the mouthful of grains. I suppose this is more like drinking sand than water, but it's damn good tasting sand.

Lucina looks at the bowl thoughtfully before breaking into a harsh laugh. "She took hers with a single spoonful. No more."

"Hm?" I sound over a mouthful of tea.

"Robin," she answers dully. "Grima, I noticed, hated tea. Declared it a bitter thing too deplorable to sip. The disguised beast preferred a state of inebriation among the strongest alcohols instead."

I swallow so hard it feels like my throat is getting scratched by glass. I beat my chest, trying to overcome the burn and shock of her statement. She waits for me to finish before ending her observations with one final quote.

"And you...You will drink tea but utterly mask the flavor because you disagree with its natural taste. Peculiar."

"What are you getting at?" I wheeze painfully.

"I honestly don't know. I am going to start somewhere. Hopefully, by the end, it will resemble some form of truth."

I give one more hack and push aside the tea. "Maybe I should pull a Grima and get myself some alcohol."

Lucina spins her spoon around some more and raises it, letting the dark liquid drip little by little back into the cup. "I don't know if you realize, but there are so many variables at play and they all swirl around you. There's so much uncertainty. To the point where I'm no longer in control of what I thought. It's vexing."

I reach out and grab her wrist to stop her stirring. This holds her attention allowing us both to look straight into the others eyes.

"Lucina, before you begin, let me say something."

I've thought long and hard about many things I'd like to say and none of them seemed right. None except this.

"First, this is all about you. As shitty as my lot has become, yours still trumps mine by a million percent. I'm not going to demand or interrupt. I expect some sort of answer but it will be all on your own time. You take the pace of this conversation at whatever speed and direction you wish."

"Secondly. Lastly. Whatever happens here, it's not going to change what we are. We'll still be allies at the end of the day."

"Will we?" she wonders. Lucina removes my hand and presses it flat to the table. "I will leave that to you. You say this is about me, but it no longer is. The further along the stream of time flows, the stronger the current grows in your favor. I am the future but you are the past. Ultimately whatever you do affects me and what I am to inherit."

Lucina places her utensil aside and folds her hands neatly together. I feel like I'm about to sign over my life to the devil in how she speaks and sits. "I will ask one final time. Is this truly what you wish to pursue? Can you not be comfortable with your current ignorance? Your life will remain simple, your future unburdened by the weight of what is to come. It will make your return home as simple as a nod of the head."

Jeez, if that isn't ominous I don't know what is!

"I know it would." I hang my head, focusing on the chipped edge of a thumbnail. "But I can't pretend any longer that I can do this as I am. I'm not Robin. At least, I can't play her role if I don't know her. I barely know myself, let alone the masquerade I'm attempting to pull off. Even if we aren't the same, she's become a part of me now whether I like it or not. Some long lost twin who's left all her baggage on my doorstep. If I'm going to get my life back together, I need to know."

All my recent thoughts and musings tumble forth like a waterfall. I want, no need, her to know how serious this has become. "They found me once before Lucina. These monsters came to my world and took me away. What's to say it won't happen again? I'm not free of this even if I want to be."

"No, you won't, will you?" Her voice breaks, a mournful tearing of words ripped from the core of her soul. "And neither will he."

"He? You mean your father?" I ask.

"No."

My head jerks up. Who is she talking about then?

Lucina takes another sip, longer than usual. She sets it down with hesitation, taking extra long to swallow. She shuts away the blues of her irises behind a pained expression, her mouth caught in an unnerving smile full of morbid humor. "Do you know why I didn't kill you in Regna Ferox, despite having every reason to do so?"

The crap is this? She was going to do what to me?

"You failed my test."

I don't even...What does she mean?

Lucina is unfazed by my reaction. She even seems to accept it, calmly continuing as if it were nothing.
"Even until now, you never realized it. It took Caeda's word to make you understand things weren't as they seemed."

"Lucina?" My tea cup crashes downward. "What are you talking about?"

She appears unaffected wholly by my disturbed demand. All except her eyes, which betray her inner thoughts of guilt as she's unable to hold my gaze. They go everywhere but me.

"What reason did I have to believe you weren't playing another mind game with me, either by Grima's own sadistic pleasure or Robin's twisted desire for revenge? I set up a simple logic error in my explanation to you. Either would have caught it, Grima's own intelligence something to fear despite still suffering to Robin's own genius. Whether by one's arrogance or the other's desire to belittle me, they would have pointed it out at some moment up until now."

"You lied to me?"

She nods. "I claimed no knowledge of what happened to my Robin, pleading gaps in my memory similar to yours. Do you remember this? A reasoning for why I could not determine for you Robin's motives or actions for what she did."

I wait impatiently without a response, so she continues.

"Yet, I explained not long after that Naga rescued me and bestowed a blessing to preserve my memory in its fullness. That I would remember all that happened before. Isn't that a bit contradictory?"

…...

"Also, did I not explain that the minds of my compatriots only change after the actual event occurs? A complete mind wipe of all prior events? Why would I lose the memories beforehand and claim to not remember a tiny spans of events shortly before time was rewound? If that were the case, I would have lost all prior knowledge of the entire time line. Not a tiny piece at a convenient moment of truth."

…...

"Do you realize how suspicious it all sounds? I am conveniently missing the important events? I have amnesia before it should have occurred? Conflicting logic as a whole?"

"Holy cheese puffs!" I shout, knocking back my chair as I jump to my feet. "What the fudge?"

"You were never the wiser." Lucina continues to refuse to look up, playing with the handle of her cup. "Beg pardon for my phrasing, but your simplicity ultimately saved your life. When you did not realize my trick nor continued to, I understood you were not Robin. Her genius was also a weakness and she could not ever resist pointing out flawed logic. Grima, however, would know of Naga's power and been suspicious of that contradiction. You simply nodded your head, too confused by the higher powers to comprehend."

"No shit! What was I supposed to think when someone dumps the complete opposite of what you expect on them?"

"A worthy answer for an utterly normal individual suddenly thrust into such an impossible situation. It is how I came to accept you were speaking the truth."

I retrieve my chair off the ground and pull it back underneath me. I cover my face, speaking through clenched teeth. "So I said nothing and you never corrected me on that. You continued to lie this whole time while I assumed you were just like me. That no one knew anything about what happened."

"Yes."

"Why? So I wouldn't ask further? You wanted me to remain ignorant to it?"

"Also yes."

"Explain to me your reason for doing so because I am very, very unsure how I feel about this right now," I enunciate in a cold, shaking voice.

Her breath hitches, and with it her tone. Her fingers press against her cup, face tightening in traces of shame. "Because back then, you were still an unknown. A wild card. I had no idea of your sympathies or morals. Were you honest to your word or as good an actor as the woman whose name you shared?"

Her lips form several unvoiced words. She starts over again, pitifully lamenting her state of being.

"Eventually that changed."

I flashback to the meeting outside the castle wall where her emotions fueled a desperate act of preservation on her part in regards to the mark on my hand. What had she really been thinking then? She was so despondent over her actions of accusing me. The growing mark must have caused all she had thought up until that point to crumple again making her doubt her original decision to let me live. No wonder she acted so erratically.

But things changed then. We made a pact. A partnership! Things were supposed to be better! She could have told me then! Wasn't that evidence enough to trust me?

"Why did you continue to play dumb and lead me along?"

For once, she has no answer.

I slam both hands to the table and lean in, the force causing the settings to rattle. "Lucina, I have been struggling through this with no leads. Just...just piecemeal scraps being snatched from the dark. Those sick freaks almost caught me a second time and nearly took out Ylisstol in the process!"

"Why?" I beg this time. I plead with all my heart. "Why hide this when we're struggling as we are? How much do you know then? I don't understand."

"Is it not obvious why?" she mutters low.

"No!"

"It's..." Her shoulders begin to shake. The lip she had been biting down on begins to turn white from the pressure. When the tension becomes too much, her chin snaps up with eyes blazing in long forgotten emotions.

"It's because I care!"

Lucina abruptly pushes away from the table and stalks to the other end of the room. She faces the window, leaning against the edge so I see nothing but her back.

"I thought it would be enough! That my hatred of what that woman was and the lessons of the past could keep a distance between me and this...this damnable nostalgia you stir up in my heart."

My anger melts away. There's more going on here than I realize. Enough that my rage has no justification against what I assume Lucina is thinking in that mysterious brain of hers. She's got deep scars on her soul and it's been guiding all her actions to now.

Lucina's fingers curl up against the stonework, her whole body now trying to suppress the shudders in her chest.

"Ultimately, I've become just as selfish as the shadows of my past," she spits out in disgust. It then weakens, growing smaller. "Just for awhile, the childish part of my youthful self I always find myself returning to won. I wanted this."

"This feeling of belonging. The feeling of hope." She presses a thumb to the inside of her right eye and wipes at it. "Do not misunderstand me. I have and never will stop believing in a way to save this future. But you and your insatiable desire to achieve utter optimism toward the future became infectious. I began to believe there was a chance for absolute stability."

Her next words cause my heart to sink. "Then you met Ginette."

My worst fears are beginning to emerge and all I can do is stand here and listen.

"I do not know how or why but something made you change things. Her future was altered when you interfered. You saved her. You saved her son. A boy meant to die and had died in all other cycles."

WHAT?

"You became the savior, not my father. You gave her a future in Southtown, not Ylisstol. You guided her sights to a life with a still breathing, still living son."

I can't hold back anymore. I rush forward wringing my hands in a desperate prayer. I babble over and over as the guilt of my wrongdoing floods my senses.

"Lucina. I-I didn't know. Is she...gods if she's your...we can fix it, right? I mean, I know she has the possibility. The stories and the way she interacted with your dad and...and...Please. Please don't tell me I fucked up your parentage. Please! I don't know what I would do if I've-"

Lucina turns partially leaving half her face bathed in the outside light. I try to see if there's any part of her that looks like the woman in Southtown, but there's so much of her father there that it breaks my heart.

The young woman watches me curiously, with an almost childish wonder. I had stopped a respectable distance away. My words tumble to a standstill under her strange gaze. She takes her time walking a slow pace only to stop before me. Again, like she had done many times before, she stands on her tiptoes to look right in my eyes.

She goes to reach forward but withdraws her hand quickly as if stung at the thought. Instead, she busies herself by tugging at the edge of both gloves.

"No," she finally admits.

"No," she says again, "but you interfered in the best replacement I had to call mother."

The corner of my mouth twitches. "Replacement?"

"Some things are always destined to be," she recites already familiar knowledge once more. "My father will always have a daughter, just as my aunt has always died. Just as Valm will always launch an attack on our shores. Just as surely as Grima has always attempted rebirth."

A story rolls off Lucina's tongue, one she's watched and seen rewritten numerous times over the many cycles she's endured.

"Ginette was always the least offensive I found to assume the role of consort to the Exalt. Having lost her whole life in Southtown, she carried no shadows to the throne to trouble her in the future. She had a kind enough temperament, a knack for delegation, and was soft-spoken enough not to offend the nobles."

She pauses, offering a dark smile. "Are you starting to realize things?"

I blink, processing it all.

"There is more to tell, surely." A deeper, darker chuckle bubbles up from her. "But I would fathom you are regretting the loss of your ignorance. Is this fear building in you worth it?"

Lucina points to the two of us. "You truly don't know the irony of this moment. That once, we both stood here as such. Except, I was the one naïve and full of burgeoning fears. You were the one standing before me with the answers, the deceit, and lies."

"Everything has come full circle, don't you see?" Lucina laughs again, her voice drenched in self-loathing. The hysterical edge cutting through her sentences makes me want to desperately shake it from her. "She'd be laughing now, I bet. That in the end, I became just like her."

Her words become singular bullet points puncturing the air one after another. "I'm just as selfish. Just as cold. Just as controlling as she became."

"And just like her," Lucina finishes, "I still managed to lose control of every cycle I was in, never any closer to my goal."

In her mind, Lucina has become her own warped version of Robin. There's not an ounce of doubt in her over this fact, and it's wrecking her inside. What sort of internal turmoil is she enduring thinking something like that?

I'm speechless. I don't know what to do. What can I do? How can I comfort her when I'm the exact visage of the one who's made her this way?

"Lucina...I..." I search desperately for words I can't find. "Kid, what do you want me to do? How do I fix this?"

I gently place a hand on both shoulders, careful not to stand any closer.

"How do I make things better for you?" I plead. My inner resolve breaks. I can't stand seeing her this way. Lucina's become-become something to me. A sister? A friend? A daughter? I dunno. It's something stronger than I can identify with at the moment. All I know is that this hurts. "How can I help you when I don't even know where it went wrong?"

She lowers her head, face hidden from sight under her long hair. Her breathing is broken.

"It started with a choice," she answers in a tiny voice. "A choice robbed for selfish reasons."

She pauses to correct her harsh tone. "Loving reasons. And the aftermath tore open a seam. One that grew larger and larger until darkness seeped in and brought us to this final tipping point."

"What happened?" I gently, yet firmly, ask.

"You know this. The happily ever after is what you got wrong."

I think, and think, and think.

A choice.

The choice.

The only one that mattered in the end.

"The final battle with Grima," I whisper.

She continues to speak to the floor, all emotion drained away. "Naga gave Robin a choice. Let my father strike with Falchion and allow the beast to hibernate once more. Or, sacrifice herself for the greater good of all."

"She chose the sacrifice," I guess.

"And my father chose otherwise," Lucina limply responds. She half chokes, half laughs the next part. "Exalt Chrom, leader of the united alliance, paragon of the human race, living blood of Naga's blessed, chose a mortal woman over the world's future."

"And she resented him for that?" I murmur.

Lucina shakes her head. "Yes, and no. Her descent to rebellion began there and continued until one final event tipped her allegiance forever."

Something tells me this is it. This is what I need to know. Chrom's interference was the beginning of the end, but something was the final nail in the coffin. "What was it? What made this happen?"

Lucina finally lifts her head and there are tears glistening just under the edge of each lid. She smiles sadly at a phantom just out of reach.

"The death of her son."

I lose all breath in my lungs. A twisted, ugly churning occurs in my stomach.

"Morgan."

It's the first time I've uttered the name a loud. It's strange and fills me with an unspeakable longing for something I've never even experienced.

"Indeed." She breathes deeply as if her very soul was leaving her being. "Morgan, tactician to the rebellion of my time, trusted friend, and..."

She finally breaks. The tears flow as Lucina finally lets loose the most heartbreaking truth of all.

"...and my brother."

---

A/N: These types of chapters always make me nervous :| Anyway, I've got some stuff really piling up on my plate right now so I sort of rushed this out for you guys. I apologize if there are any leftover typos or weird transitions. I didn't want to leave you all without another update after all this time. If anything does seem strange, I probably overlooked it. Sorry! Hope to see you all sooner than later!

---

Review Responses:

The Flare Blade – Aw, no worries. Weird mistakes like that happen all the time. I've butt dialed numerous people. It's no different from texting!

Wow, I should thank you for the review! It's heartening to see more writers unafraid to pursue their stories. Write what you want to write, limitations be damned! Someone out there is going to love your story! Did you say it's about Hinata though? Oooooooooooh man! She's one of my all time favorite characters. Ever. Period. I'll have to look into your story now! Excellent! And I wish you the best of luck with it, whatever you choose to do!

OnesidedBias – Thanks so much! I try to do my best every time!

Diamond Gargoyle – That's what I aimed for! Foremost between Chrom and Robin is their absolute trust in the other. I wanted that to stand out as paramount in their relationship as it's one of the, if not the most, important symbol of their bond.

Good point! Robin is definitely going to give him a what-for when he wakes up, an irony that will not be lost to him. It'll be an interesting reunion.

Kaoru-chibimaster – Thanks! I like the crotchety old mentor stereotype. I couldn't resist with Tamlin!

Yes! Robin and Frederick are my ultimate story BrOTP as well! They've been slowly developing the bickering sibling relationship and I love it to bits!

Robin will definitely start spending time with Katarina, as she has been doing with Virion. I may not show it upfront as often, but Robin is training with them like she is Frederick and Miriel in the background.

I wonder if anyone caught that Chalard is a boss from the game? He's a bit different than his virtual counterpart though...

Funny, it was Chrom and not Maribelle who was injured this time around. Try to prevent one thing and another happens anyway. What ill luck :( Ha! No zombification though. It's not that type of story.

…...

Or is it?

I'm not sure what Gangrel would have in terms of Pokemon. That takes some thought. Maybe a Zoroark?

EmilykaFairy – I think it's a lot of fun to be learning the story at the same pace as Robin. It's a familiar setting, sure. But, nothing is quite the same. It leaves an intriguing air about the plot line. Also, expanding the plot allows us to visit new areas and learn more about the characters. It's so much fun to explore and create!

I took a lot of care in making Robin a bit of a tease but not so much that it's irritating. It's just not nice to push boundaries too far. If this were more of a humorous fic, messing around with Lon'qu's phobia could have some anime-esque comedy. But it's realistic and having Robin tease someone with a clearly deep discomfort is kind of mean. That's not what I wanted. It's also not much fun to read either.

You speak French fluently? Awesome! I haven't had anyone comment on that aspect of the story yet. If you have the time, is there anything specifically that would seem more accurate to use in terms of what Virion's used? My French classes in high school were composed of Americans, one Canadian, and the teacher her learned to speak French in Great Britain. I might be lacking an authentic French tone. If you have any advice to offer, it would be appreciated!

ArcherShirou – Thanks!

Browncoat Jedi – More cliffhangers, sorry! I must be in a devilish mood lately. Blame the impending Halloween spirit.

;). That's all I'll say about the tension.

Thanks for alerting me to the typo. That's an easy error I gloss over when proof reading. I'll head back and search for the offenders now that this chapter is posted. Stay caffeinated! Or well-rested? Whichever!

hot poteito – Sorry, I'm back! Have an update at a faster time too as an apology!

More Gregor and Nowi it is! I try to rotate through characters regularly to they'll appear again soon!

Yep, that's why Robin and Lissa are stuck on the same punishments together. Frederick's praying they learn some self control in attempting not to kill each other when in the same room. So far, so good. Then again, the morbid situation is dampening their spirits a little.

I can't see any member of the Justice Cabal as being anything but optimistic. Owain's aware that something is bothering Lucina even if she won't open up about it. It saddens him that she won't talk to him, so he tries to keep her spirits lifted in the only way he can. It's just strengthened over the years and fused into a part of him. Adorkable is painfully accurate in describing him!

The fault's mine on Katarina's delayed summoning. I can only afford to show so much per chapter and other things were more important than her unveiling at the moment. Don't blame the main character, just me.

MeepleMeep – Hey, thanks for finding the courage to say hi! I appreciate you hanging around with the story so long! I get flabbergasted whenever someone says something so kind. It's the most rewarding when I know that I'm creating an enjoyable reading experience for someone else. Feel free to comment, suggest, or critique whenever you wish! Or just keep on enjoying the read! I'll continue to give my one percent for everyone reading, even if only one!

Cherubby – I'm glad to see Nowi and Gregor fans! I don't usually see as many as I do other characters! I'm relieved you all approve. Gregor sometimes can be a tricky as his word quirks tend to get creative. Nowi is a blast though!

Robin's going to be in a constant state of learning, but the improvements should be more obvious now that she is putting them to use more often. I'd have included Katarina sooner if possible. That's my fault. I have a lot of subplots running along with the main one and required a few to be tied up before jumping into Themis. My sanity and aching fingers prevented it from coming up sooner. Apologies there!

I've created quite a few scenarios in terms of their unveiling. All of them are very...unique. But Robin has an empathetic side and I don't doubt she's going to have some form of pity or mercy for the situation the family has gone through. The twins and their father are all different and it will be interesting to see how they pursue Robin once each side learns more about the other.

Romance was always intended to be open-ended, even potentially not a thing at all. I was impartial to the idea and willing to bend either way. If the readers wanted it or I got a good idea, I was very much on board with attempting a romance. The question was always who and why. The eternal debate.

Good guesses! It's always good to have more than one in a story with infinite possibilities. I wonder if any are right?

Raiden312 – Lissa is one of the youngest Shepherds and is bound to be a bit more impulsive, especially when it comes to family. She'd take the risk no matter what. In this universe, throwing the staff wouldn't have worked. Staffs are conduits to a clerics magic, much like tomes are for mages. She needs to have it in her hands to channel her magic. Without it, nothing happens. Rules of the universe strike again! That would have been a decent alternative otherwise.

Maribelle is doing this out of a sense of justice and for her own good. As she said, she can't let personal feelings affect the system she follows and believes in. Becoming a magistrate means showing no partiality to anyone. All is fair in the eyes of the law. So she couldn't have done anything even if she did want to. It would go against the very philosophy she's been trying to adopt since discovering her dream. Admirable!

As Gregor said, friendships are funny things. The situation may be hypocritical, but most wouldn't object to it. It's never okay to see your friends hurt, but it will always be alright for you to be if it's for their sake. That's the nature of self-sacrifice.

fareyinabottle – Nothing like an emotional roller coaster ride to wake up the senses! I had the worst time writing the ending. I had to stop several times and recollect myself. No one wants to write such bad things happening to good characters!

I try to include new conversations and different characters interacting when I can. The game was limited based on resources but I have unlimited freedom. Ultimate cosmic power, ha ha ha! I enjoy exploring them!

Sylveon-Bit-Me – Sorry! I had two weeks of vacation and then came back to a very interesting set of months in my bakery. Lots of changes came about that put us behind, including our oven which continues to break. Ah, life.

Cliffhanger over!...only for another. Sorry!

Robin's certainly in a bad mood but doing her best to not become a useless husk like before. Chrom's injury is not near fatal, even though it is very bad. Her fears are more geared toward the guilt of him getting injured for her sake now that she knows he's in no mortal danger. She's psychologically stronger than before but still suffering. Who wouldn't feel like kicking themselves for allowing their good friend to get injured for their sake.

I've heard a few people say Lucina reminds them of Homura. Their drives and purposes are relatable, as is their bad luck with achieving it. Poor things. Let's hope the endings are similar.

kalmaegi – Marc knows what her brand is about, she just doesn't have anything unique to say about it because it's simply another part of her. But, you know. Best to wait, as you said, cause of spoilers and stuff.

Glad you liked Katarina. She and the others are a treat for the older fans. You never know who else can pop up, including Chris/Kris!

The history is a culmination of headcanon and evidence from already known facts. I figured with Marth being king and moving to the capital in Akaneia, it wouldn't be unfair to say a number of his court members from Altea followed him there and settled roots in newly granted domains. I may or may not bring it up some point later, but I have Cordelia originating from Talys. Thanks to Caeda's reputation, Talys establishes a strong pegasus breeding program and many aspiring riders are sent there for training. There is a legend that the best riders are born there, blessed by Caeda's spirit. So there's your bit of lore for the day!

FicReader – I sort of browsed over the reddit page, so maybe I'll sign up in the near future. Extra inspiration never hurts!

Robin does have a bad habit of teasing a lot people, doesn't she? The fact that Chrom isn't as bad shows his growing comfortableness with her. It doesn't unnerve him as much as it used to. Or...maybe he just likes it now ;)

Maribelle and Gaius have a very strong history, more personal than most supports alluded to. I figured it would be a disservice not to focus on it. It's a driving point in the plot and shows a strong example of each person's character. It's been one of my favorite subplots thus far.

robotortoise – It is madness. I just don't know when to stop with this word count, ha ha!

I know! Henry is supposed to be one of the best/dangerous mages in his class. He's got some major versatility. Even though he's still a bit behind the scenes as the Ylisseans get over their suspicions of him, I wanted to get him in on the action somehow. Given how attached he is to Panne, I doubt he'd let her go into battle without some form of aid. Even if it's a huge, intimidating flock of crows.

Ha! I don't know if it's the best time to kiss in the middle of a raging battle. Then again, the Pirates of the Caribbean film series proved it can be possible, and funny!

I can do more Owain! No complaints there!

fwumpbump – Isn't it fun to go back and see all the little things you've missed before? Signs of foreshadowing or just fun easter eggs?

I enjoy writing developing relationships, be it friendly or romantic. It's just so much fun to see the evolution happen over time. I savor the slow creep of a smile when something fluffy or emotional happens after a slight change happens in the relationship. Aw, it's just so much fun!

Lucina's relationship with Robin is probably the most important at this point, and the most dynamic. It's fluctuated a lot because of the extreme circumstances and different lifestyles both have come from. It's nice to finally start pulling them together. Lucina has a lot going on in her mind that is pulling her resolve, and her heart, in multiple directions. It'll be a bit of relief to finally have them truly drop both their walls in terms of communication.

You don't have to fear about Robin going home yet. As she said, she's realized there's no point in doing so yet. The villains can just find her and bring her back again! So Robin's stuck in Ylisse for a good while! That won't mean she'll still forget about home.

Thanks for the tip, I'll search out the pesky 'your' bug soon! I'll cross my fingers this chapter is a bit more typo free! :)

Animeseris – Hi! XD

If you had a hard time reading the ending, imagine how hard it was for me to write it D:

There's certainly some guilt on Robin's part. It's inevitable to feel that way. I'm sure she'll have some words for Chrom when he wakes up, and he as well. The lessons will go on in the background, probably with some more from Virion as well. No use wasting resources!

Good catch, you're the first to see that! I do wonder who the mysterious woman is Marc mentioned. Hm...

I'll definitely look into that anime! Sounds fun! I do like time travel themes a lot in stories and shows. I'll add it to my wish list!

KalNim – Welcome aboard to the story! So glad you've enjoyed it thus far! Thanks for the review too and feel free to leave any suggestions or thoughts if you feel like it! Hope the future chapters prove just as enthralling as your two week binge!

A Shadow's Lament – I still don't know how I do it either, but I'm glad it pays off for you all!

I figured they kept light magic out because of how overpowered it was as a mechanic in FE8. Since they had the zombie-like monsters there, you could wipe out whole maps with a few light magic characters and a healer. That or they were just messing with mechanics. Fun for me because I got to experiment with lore to explain it!

It's fine. I've explained it before but sometimes writing limitations are what delay events from happening. Nothing I can do about it, though I appreciate your words nonetheless. Katarina is the most badass of all grandmothers, unless you count Caeda in there as well.

I figured everyone would hate me for that tease ;)

Thanks for dropping a review again Shadow. It's always good to hear from you again!

SmileRen – Thanks so much!

I really enjoyed writing the part about Maribelle. Her whole dream is to achieve becoming the first woman magistrate. And though young, she is as stubborn as she is determined. I can see her already trying to apply herself to that dream, and that means making herself acknowledge some truths. Hard as it was for her, she could do no less or risk both that and Emmyern's ideals. What a great character!