Author's note:

Hello folks! I've recently completed Fire Emblem Awakening, and all I could think was how damned sad I am it ended, and how else can I make it, and my beloved pairing, Lucina and the Avatar live on! Well with story of course! This story will be a slightly altered version of the Awakening story line, the plot is the same with some alterations (As you'll see below), and character death will be involved. Whilst the story is going to be a Lucina/Avatar fic, it will be slightly more story driven and somewhat actiony than most as the characters progress through the story. Anyway, hope you enjoy my first contribution to this site! Enjoy!

Update: Over 2 years and I'm returning to my earliest chapters to update and edit them to meet the quality I try to have in my later additions to the series. For now only the first three are planned to be edited but I may touch up on the Village arc too. Hopefully these edits will make the earlier chapters much more enjoyable for any new readers coming into the series! I hope the update is noticeable, and even with the changes I still think my later work improves greatly, so please enjoy!

The blazing sun glared down, sitting in a pure blue sky bereft of all but a few white clouds. Robin, the ashen haired tactician of Ylisse's defence force, the Shepherds, mused to himself that it looked almost heavenly.

How inappropriate he thought, considering the hellish slaughter that was happening below.

"Hold formation!" He screamed, gripping his blade in both hands as he spotted a soldier getting ready to charge him. His black cloak had been ripped in many places, pierced by spear, blade and arrow, the blood from the wounds soaking into his clothes. The soldier was upon him now, and Robin brought his sword up to parry his foe's downward swing, hitting the man off guard before thrusting the blade into his throat. The man let a choked cry, gurgling as blood spat from his mouth. The tactician ripped his sword from the soldier's throat and he crumpled to the floor. Another body added to the ever growing pile around the Shepherd's host.

"We will win this day! Forward, for Ylisse!" Robin turned to the source of the cry, looking at the group's Commander, Chrom, who was in no better a state than himself. His jaw was clenched in grim determination, a look mirrored by every one of the Shepherds, even the more commonly jovial ones. Walhart was done playing games, he had sent his best available men, determined to crush them at the entrance to his city. His best happened to outnumber the Shepherds to a staggering degree, but so far not a single of their soldiers had fallen, whilst the Valmese ranks were being culled by their magic and steel.

"It's starting to look we will." Robin grunted. As a tactician he had pulled more than his fair share of miraculous victories since he'd joined the Shepherds, but deep down even he had been afraid that the foes numbers were just far too great for the far smaller host to handle.

"We will, Robin. We won't fall, not today." Robin spared another moment to glance over at Lucina, the cerulean haired daughter of Chrom. Her pale skin was flushed with effort but she showed no other signs of the exhaustion that was beginning to grip the other Shepherds. Robin couldn't help but admire her at this moment. If his contribution to the Shepherds was his tactical mind, then Lucina's was her indomitable will and unmatched fighting prowess. Her skill with the blade was equal too if not greater than Chrom's, but where she lacked her father's raw strength she more than made up for it inher agility. He hadn't seen her stop to catch her breath even once, and any Valmese soldier that was foolish enough to get close to her fell in an instant. The Shepherd's ability to fight enemies toe to toe was the main reason they were currently still alive, the small group having pulled into a tight rectangle formation, defending the oncoming assault from all directions. Tharja, Henry, Mirirel, Ricken and Virion were placed at the centre with Kellam acting as their personal shield, the four spell casters using their magic in tandem to decimate waves of cavalry before they had a chance to trample through their defence, with Virion aiding the airborne Sumia, Cordeila and Cherche, who were fending off the wyvern divisions in the sky above. It was the best tactic Robin could think of given the situation, and it was working perfectly.

Robin looked away from Lucina and focused back on the battle, promising to himself to think a lot more about his "admiration" of her and the implications of it when this war was won. The next foe charged him, a woman, not much older than him, wielding a double headed war axe. That axe was too big for him to parry and there wasn't much room to dodge in this formation. The tactician ripped a tome from his belt and muttered a spell, launching a spear-shaped bolt of electricity through the woman's chest, causing her eyes to open unnaturally wide from shock, her body convulsing from the volts as she collapsed onto the floor. Robin couldn't allow any room for sympathy in his heart, a moment of hesitation would mean death. Within seconds another soldier took her place and readied his weapon. There was no end to it. The manner in which he had cast the spell stirred something in the tactician's memories, but he quickly pushed away the distraction. They were nearing the gate now. The true test was just ahead.

Standing before the grand, ornate gates to the Valmese capital was a giant of a man in hulking scarlet armour. Atop his equally great stallion he dwarfed all men who stood around him.

Walhart's gaze threatened to ignite the battlefield in flames. He slowly turned to the man next to him, part of his personal cavalry retinue, his eyes so narrow they appeared closed.

"Tell me, Lieutenant. How is it that such a small enemy force, from that mewling peace mongering land of Ylisse of all places, are not only holding off our forces with ease, but are currently working their way to the front door of the most fortified city in my empire?"

The Lieutenant's face was stern, yet there was no mistaking the fear that rang through his voice.

"Milord, I would not say with ease..." As he said this, another wave of Cavalry was ripped from their steeds by a torrent of flame, those that survived to keep charging were quickly struck down by bolts of lightning.

"Er, that is to say..." Walhart cut him off with a vulgar snort, followed by him spitting on the ground.

"How many of our men have they slain?" Walhart's voice was quiet; it seemed to lack any emotion. This only served to concern the Lieutenant more.

"It's hard to say milord, we-"

"It's in the deep hundreds. How many have they lost?" The Lieutenant took a deep breath, clearly wanting nothing more than to not answer.

"We don't kn-"

"NONE!" Walhart screamed as his stoic facade dropped and his fury was brought to bear. "Zero! Not a single DAMNED causality. And they are nothing more than CHILDREN! Children that are currently decimating a Legion. MY, Legion. My Legion that has swarmed over this continent, forcing the greatest of Lords and the mightiest of armies to bend the knee before me. My Legion that set to flame all those that opposed me, burning all trace of them, root and stem. Am I to believe our victories were won only because our former enemies were simply that pathetic? Or is the current foe we face simply that powerful? That this miracle tactician I've heard so much about actually exists?" Walhart calmed almost instantly after his rant was done, turning once more to observe the battle. The Lieutenant immediately jumped on the chance to justify their losing effort in this battle.

"M-milord! Their tactician was responsible for the decimation of our naval forces, among the other… setbacks. The common folk have begun to whisper, they say he is more than human, that he is able to predict the future and plan his battles so!"

"PFAH! The superstitions of the peasants are exactly that, superstitions. We'll find out soon enough, it seems. Here they come." Walhart bowed his head; the magnificent scarlet horns that crowned his head gleaming in the sunlight.

"I'll remove that tactician's head myself. He will learn what happens to those who refuse to bend the knee." Walhart raised his sword, shouting to address his most loyal and skilled men on his flanks.

"Would you ride with me to crush these fools once and for all!?" The men cheered in response.

"Would you ride with me to see your Emperor sit upon his rightful throne as the ruler of this world!?" An even louder cry followed.

"Then come! Come and witness true wrath, so great that it would eclipse any God!"

Walhart whipped the reigns of his beast, and charged forward, ten of his greatest men following on their own steeds. He would put an end to this farce now, personally, as he did with that Feroxi oaf. The Prince and his pet tactician would be no different.

After all, who could hope to stand against the Emperor of Valm?

Robin pushed aside another dead solder, this one had been older than the others, nearing forty. He didn't know why he kept nothing their ages as they fell, it was a habit he had started from his first battle and hadn't been able to stop himself.

From the opposite side of the formation came a call, pulling him out of his brief lull. The voice was shrill and had a faint echo, yet still sounded like a child. Nowi, however was anything but young.

"Are we winning!?" Her question came immediately after she had ripped a man from his horse by his throat and launched him through the air into another mounted soldier, her Manakete form providing the perfect defence for the formation's backline, able to cover as much ground as three standard foot soldiers.

"It is being hard to say, little one! They are as you say, growing like the rabbits!" Gregor answered in his usual roundabout way, splitting the skull of a foot soldier open, grinning as he did so. The comment earned him a death glare from Panne, though a quickly raised shield on behalf of the mercenary blocking a spear aimed at her torso, losing the shield in the process, quickly earned her forgiveness.

"Just keep pushing, soon we'll be at the gates, then we face-" Chrom was cut off by the ear splitting sound of three horn blasts piercing the air. Without a moment's hesitation the Valmese host quickly retreated.

"They're pulling back? Is that good?" Stahl asked to no one in particular, pulling a sword from his back as his primary blade was lost, stuck in a man's chest.

"No. No it isn't. It means they've got something planned." Robin said, making the most of the brief break to catch his breath. Walhart was about to pull something. Would they send another charge? They should be ready for that, but if they'd repeat the same tactic, why the break?

His gaze wandered as he thought, settling on Lucina as she wiped blood from Falchion's blade.

"Are you doing okay?" Lucina asked him, genuine concern in her eyes. The tactician nodded at her, too preoccupied with predicting Walhart's next move to reply. Lucina smiled at him as he nodded and Robin felt some of the weight in his chest lift as the sight.

"Ride them down my soldiers!"

Robin jumped in shock at the powerful cry and turned to see Walhart, for whom else could the hulking giant that led them be, charging straight at them.

"Fie! 'Tis the devil himself! He rides to meet us!" Say'ri shouted, raising her curved blade defensively. Robin mused to himself how fitting the name "Devil" was for the man, with his scarlet armour, horn shaped crown and his cloak billowing behind him like wings, he made quite the sight.

"Thar-" Robin didn't even have time to finish before Tharja, Henry, Ricken and Miriel cast their spells, instantly dismounting four of the Cavaliers. Walhart remained untouched and was moments away from barrelling into them.

"AGAIN!" the four magi began their spells, but before they could unleash the attack, Walhart already had his sword in the air, the crimson blade crackling with energy. Robin tried to shout a warning, but it was too late, an arcing strike of lightning hit the centre of the Ylssisean host, breaking their formation and scattering the Shepherds in a cloud of rubble and dust.

"HA! Their ranks are broken! Now bring down the executioner's blade! End this pathetic resistance! NO MERCY!" Walhart cried triumphantly.

Robin lay face down in the dirt, desperately trying to formulate a plan. He hadn't expected such raw power from the man, and he was paying the price for his foolishness. A hand gripped the neck of his cloak and pulled him to his feet.

"Get up, Robin! Get up and fight, we need you!" Lucina yelled at him, deflecting a blow from a cavalry man's spear that was aimed straight at the tactician. Robin quickly surveyed the scene, Walhart's men were swarming the cracks in their defence, and each member of the Shepherds was desperately fighting off the aggressing soldiers. There was no hope of reforming back into their defensive position. This was a straight up melee now.

"Everyone, break formation! This is where it's decided! Cut them down!" Robin cried. Lucina gave him the faintest smile and turned to follow his order. He gripped his blade tightly. The Shepherds had faith in him. Lucina, had faith in him. They would not lose this day.

Lucina quickly spun away from Robin, moving at terrifying speeds as she cut down one soldier after another. She moved far too quickly for any one soldier to target her, dedicating he energy to helping any Shepherd that was overwhelmed.

"Gah!" Lucina instantly turned toward the pained cry to see Libra fighting off three soldiers, one who had managed to nick his hip with a spear. Vaike and Stahl were running to go back up the cleric, but Lucina didn't want to take chances. Rushing toward them, Lucina slashed Falchion through the shaft of the spear that Libra had gripped in his right arm, dispatching the soldier wielding it moments after. Libra backed up, getting to a safer position as Lucina turned toward the second soldier, this one wielding two daggers. The soldier unleashed a flurry of thrusts toward the princess, all of which she easily dodged. Utilising the far great range of Falchion, Lucina swung with all her might and crushed through the soldier's attempt to guard, following up with driving Falchion across his throat. As the second foe fell, Lucina saw Vaike finishing off the third, who had turned to deal with him and Stahl.

"Naga bless you, Lucina." Libra said, hefting his axe and turning for the next foe. Lucina stole a quick glance over to where Robin stood, being menaced by a soldier on horseback. Her first instinct was to run and help, but she knew he'd be fine, there were others who needed her more. The dread she had felt when she saw Robin face down on the ground was unexpected and painful. It was not that she didn't care for the rest of her companions, but a life time of battle had taught her to suppress her emotions on the battlefield. She'd gotten to know him quite well during the Valm campaign. The ashen haired tactician had shown more care for her than she ever thought anyone could, and her heart had responded in turn by growing to care deeply for him, and now this...

A high-pitched scream from the other side of the host interrupted her train of thought. She turned to see Nowi hitting the floor, a spear impaling itself through a wing of her Manakete form.

"NO!" Lucina screamed, sprinting toward Nowi with Falchion in hand. She was close, but the three spear wielding Valmese were closer, and about to finish the girl off. With a sadistic grin, no doubt at the prospect of being the man to score the first kill of the day, the soldier raised his spear, aimed for the Mankete's throat. It can't be... The spear came down... And lodged itself into Gregor's chest, the man having thrown himself between the dragon girl and the fatal blow.

"Gregor!" The cry came from Lon'qu, who swiftly decapitated the man who had driven his spear through the Sell Sword. Lucina quickly drove her blade through the throat of a second soldier, as an arrow from Virion found its way into an eye of the third.

"GRAMPS! No!" Nowi screamed in despair, lumbering over to the man still in here manakete form and wrapping her wings around him.

Gregor fell to his knees, blood trickling from his mouth. He was looking affectionately at Nowi, running his bloodied hand over her muzzle.

"The little girl... Not be falling on harm when I'm here... No?" Gregor coughed, falling slightly as Lon'qu stooped to grab the man.

"Get up you blasted fool! I won't have more blood on my hands!" Lon'qu's face was as stoic as ever, but his eyes betrayed his grief. Gregor had been a friend of his, Lucina had known. Both had been personal friends of Basillo at some point in time and had bonded over the fact. The Princess stood there motionless, not even bothering to fight the tears springing to her eyes. Every part of her wanted to drop to her knees and despair at the loss of such a noble man, but allowing herself to perform such a selfish act would likely cost the lives of others.

A quick survey of the field showed her the Shepherds were gaining the upper hand, but there was still the matter of...

Falchion clashed against Sol with a thundering crack. Chrom took two more swings at the Scarlet Tyrant, each blow being met in turn.

"Why do you resist me, little prince?" Walhart glared down at Chrom, his baritone voice calm.

"Don't you know I only wish to bring peace to the world? To end all wars, all bloodshed?"

Chrom spat on the floor at the comment, swinging Falchion in an upwards arc, he glanced the Tyrant's plate armour, causing Walhart to grunt in surprise.

"You enslave the weak and kill the able. No, Walhart, you are the enemy of peace." Chrom barely managed to bring his blade up in time to block a swing that would've removed his head.

"I seek to end the reign of Gods! These Gods who care nothing for their own creations, who stand by and watch as time and time again the people of this world spill rivers of blood in the name of their own personal "justice"! And you would object on moral grounds? My Empire will give birth to a new era, an era where the Gods are cast aside, where man decides its own destiny. Blood is spilled in any birth, little prince, and many a just cause." Walhart whipped Sol around his head, summoning a bolt of magic to strike Chrom, who barely dodged it before countering with both words and steel.

"There is no justification for what you've done. You're a simple murderer, the only difference between you and a common cut throat is that you have an army at your back."

Walhart grew angry at this remark, leaping off his stallion. The emperor slowly marched toward Chrom, standing more than a head taller than the Prince.

"By whose laws do you judge me, boy? Yours? Your sister's? Your God's?"

Chrom frowned, the question clearly having hit home.

"You cannot-"

"Look at yourself! How can you not be ashamed? Your mind is filled with nothing but second-hand beliefs. You dance upon the stage of your gods like a mindless puppet! THAT is what I reject: being a slave to tradition, to obligation. The old ways. Damn the gods! Damn their fates and their destinies! I will have true freedom! Any man who offers less is my enemy." Walhart let out a fierce cry upon finishing his speech, raining blow after blow down upon Chrom.

"HA! You don't have what it takes... TO STAND BEFORE ME!" Walhart cried, swinging Sol down upon Chrom with frightening strength. Chrom raised Falchion just in time, blocking the blow, just as Walhart swung his plated fist into the prince's jaw, sending the youth hard into the dirt.

"I give all men the chance to test their will against my own, Prince. It seems you, too, have been found wanting." Chrom struggled to rise to his feet, Falchion having been knocked far from his grasp. His head swam from the blow and he found it impossible to properly focus. He looked around desperately, the rest of the Shepherds were still fighting off the rest of Walhart's personal retinue.

"Look all you want, boy. No one is coming to save you. You'll die here, as will the rest of your band. Your role in history will just be another foot note in the chronicles of my reign. Pitiful." A gigantic plate clad foot stomped down on Chrom's back, holding the Prince in place.

"Die."

Walhart raised his sword...

And gasped in shock as he felt something slash straight through his chest piece, and biting deep into the flesh underneath. So great was the blow the Tyrant stumbled back, freeing Chrom.

"Who... dares?!"

"Stay away from my Father, tyrant." Lucina looked back from a crouching position, Falchion held out behind her, still wet with the Tyrant's blood.

"Gah, he's your Father? How- PFAH, it matters not! You'll die all the same." Walhart quickly whirled to charge upon Lucina, who readied herself. This gave Robin the exact moment he needed. Firing the spell with pinpoint precision, he blasted Walhart from behind, toppling the Conqueror, who screamed in anger.

"How do any of you still live!? Where is my guard!?" Walhart looked around frantically, teeth clenched in pain.

"Either dead or dying. You've lost Walhart." Robin stared down at the nearly defeated man, his gaze quickly moving to Chrom.

"Chrom! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just finish him!" Chrom cried out, spitting more blood on the floor from his busted lip. He tried to force himself to his feet but only managed to get to his knees before tripping again. The prince turned to look at Lucina and Robin, who were approaching the tyrant with their weapons ready.

"If I die... I will NOT go alone!" Walhart gripped Sol, and with one last effort, thrust it forward, sending a bolt of destructive magic straight for Lucina.

The Princess made to dodge, but the distance was too short. Chrom reached out desperately, as if the action would somehow save her. The flash from the impact blinded him momentarily, but when his vision returned, the prince could only cry out as he saw Robin had taken the blow for her, laying crumpled on the floor at the feet of his daughter.

"You… You monster!" Lucina cried, darting forward. Before Walhart even had the chance to bring his blade up Lucina was upon him. In one sweeping strike, Falchion cut into Walhart's neck and severed it, sending the Emperor's severed head plummeting into the dirt. Lucina looked down at the decapitated body and let out a shaky breath, reigning in her anger.

Chrom was on his feet and limping towards Robin, who lay unconscious and bloodied on the floor. Lucina quickly overtook him, dropping to her knees and cradling the man.

"Damnit! We can't lose another... Not you... Please!" Lucina was crying freely now and Chrom put a hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

"We won't lose him. Robin has been through too much to die here." Chrom said, smiling at the princess as she looked up at him.

"Look after him, I'll go get Lissa." He said, turning away. The Prince scanned the battlefield, taking in the situation. A few Shepherds were finishing off stragglers of Walhart's loyalists who still fought on, or capturing those that had surrendered. The Prince's heart fell as he saw the limp body of Gregor being carried by Lon'qu and Vaike, with a hysterical and badly injured Nowi following behind on the back of Cordelia's pegasus.

"No... Damn..." He turned back down to look at Robin, who was still being cradled by Lucina.

The Prince found himself staring at the sky above, and pondering how inappropriate the weather was for a day like this.