The Peace We Have Found

Draknal: Another day, another idea. This one came from a thought about the ending that I had, as well as a picture for FE: Awakening that I'm sure plenty of you have seen. I'll tell you which one that is at the end. Anywho, let's get on with it. Sorry to those of you who are on Author Alert and thought this might be an update for "Of Swords and Claws" (If anyone has bothered to stick around long enough to care, heh). That update will be coming later this week, I promise!

Oh, and heads up, this is a long story (But only a oneshot). At least, it's longer than my usual story chapters. Currently sitting on 14k words. Woohoo!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its characters, just the plot of this story and any details that I make up.


"Milord, another missive just arrived for you. More dire news I'm afraid."

The Exalt of Ylisse accepted the scroll from his most trusted knight. Skimming the contents of the letter, he found himself involuntarily clenching his teeth. "More Risen… damn it."

With a sigh he rolled the parchment up and handed it back to the other man. "Another village gone… Frederick, I want a convoy of Shepherds sent out with relief supplies to aid the survivors and track down the creatures responsible."

The mahogany haired vassal nodded. "Very good, milord. I'll see it taken care of immediately."

With Grima's defeat four years ago, the number of Risen troops left had diminished greatly. However, pockets of the fell creatures could still be found across the lands. The halidom of Ylisse was no exception. Every few weeks news would arrive by messenger telling of villages being wiped out by wandering groups of the undead. Chrom always did what he could to aid the survivors of the attacks, but it still felt like it was too little too late.

Even with groups of Ylisse's army and Chrom's own personal Shepherds combing the kingdom for packs of the creatures, it just didn't seem to be enough. Things had gotten better with the defeat of the Fell Dragon, and it looked as though the peace they had fought so hard for was within reach. But…

'Then we get reports of incidents such as this,' frowned the Ylissean royal. It was a reminder that they still had to be vigilant, and that darkness still existed in the world, despite their victories against it.

The Exalt noticed that Frederick had yet to depart for the task he had been given. That could only mean that there was more to report.

"Yes?" inquired Chrom as he studied the knight's expression.

The man in question looked pensive for a moment before speaking. "Milord, I don't mean to trouble you, but we've received word from the royal archives."

Falchion's wielder raised an eyebrow, as if asking the man to continue.

"It would seem that over the past few days, books from the archives have gone missing."

The blue haired lord frowned. "Missing? The archives have been burglarized?"

Frederick glanced away from the Exalt momentarily. "Not exactly, milord. One day a book might go missing, only for it to show up the next day back where it belongs, with another text removed."

Chrom's eyebrows went up slightly. Peculiar indeed. "So someone has been borrowing books… only to return them the following day?"

The knight nodded. "It would appear that way milord."

What point was there to stealing something if you were only going to return it the next day? It was an impressive collection of books, scrolls, and tomes, but it wasn't a library for Naga's sake! Texts were not to be removed from the royal archives, period. Hell, they even had guards posted outside the archives. The only people currently permitted to enter the archives without permission from the Exalt were the members of the royal family and the head archivist, who kept track of all the information stored there.

Perhaps his eldest daughter had borrowed some of the texts? She was quite the avid reader, now that combat and fighting for survival were no longer her most pressing priorities. It was certainly a pastime she enjoyed more than he did, something she no doubt got from her mother.

"Which texts have gone missing?" he inquired, curiosity getting the better of him.

"There have been a variety, milord. There are a number involving the Fell Dragon, Lady Naga, Dark magic, and Healing magic. Others involve the history of Ylisse and the other countries," elaborated the knight, as he counted off each item on a finger.

'Hmm… Lucina finds greater interest in fictional stories, much like her mother. I doubt she's the culprit here,' deduced the Exalt. 'Still, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask her.'

"Thank you Frederick, I'll have this matter investigated immediately."

The Ylissean soldier dubbed "The Wary" nodded, offering a small smile to his lord. "Then if that is all, milord, I'll be on my way to gather up the Shepherds and depart at once."

Chrom watched his long time friend leave before sighing once more. "I suppose it could be worse," he groaned. "Instead of a few disappearing and reappearing books we could have had the royal treasury cleaned out."

X-x-X-x-X

A pair of cerulean eyes glanced around a hallway corner. They checked left once before quickly scanning to the right as well. The coast was clear. Darting out from behind cover, a shadow, small in stature, made its way down the corridor. It stopped suddenly upon hearing the steady clank of approaching armor. It had to hide, quick!

How fortuitous that the corridor was lined with several windows, each possessing a set of crimson drapes. Taking cover behind the nearest curtain, it paused and held its breath, waiting for the deadly guard to pass.

Frederick rounded the corner and made his way towards the barracks. He stopped momentarily when he noticed a curtain swaying slightly, no doubt from recent movement. Glancing downward, he smirked when he noticed a pair of dainty feet sticking out slightly from the cloth adornment. Shaking his head, he continued with his trek. No doubt Sumia would be in hot pursuit of this little hiding lamb. Such was their game.

It waited a moment more to ensure that the guard had continued on his way, oblivious to the master of disguise that skulked about in the shadows! The figure poked its head out from behind the curtain and stuck its tongue out at the retreating knight's back, before continuing once more down the hallway and around the corner.

No doubt the beast that was hunting her was steadily gaining. She would need to seek refuge in a more secure location! The youngster's navy blue locks swayed to and fro as she looked left and right towards the various doors that lined the hall. Taking off in a sprint once more, the hunter's prey barreled down the hallway, passing by several guards whom didn't even turn their heads to follow the youth's movements. She was simply too fast for their human eyes to follow, of course!

Placing her back against a randomly selected door, the blunette pushed it open just barely enough to slip in, without making a single sound of course. Closing the portal once more, she listened for the sounds of the predatory hunter. Nothing.

'Phew! Safe,' she thought happily. Surely she would be the winner of this game- err, hunt!

Turning, she found that the room she had chosen to hide in wasn't actually a room. It was another hallway. Curious. Most curious. Who was she to deny her adventurous side? Quietly as a mouse she set off down the hallway. Going down two short corridors, each with an accompanying bend, she found herself in front of another door.

As carefully as before, she opened the door just enough to slip through, and did so, closing it quietly behind her. She found herself in awe. It was simply amazing! Sure the room smelled a bit funny, but there were so many books! Shelves upon shelves of books to be precise. Thinking back, she couldn't ever recall coming to this room. To her immediate right and left were bookshelves, and next to them? Bookshelves.

In fact, it almost looked like a corridor made of bookshelves. Following the pathway made of shelves, each lined to the brim with texts of various shapes and colors, she made her way forward until it opened up to a large middle area filled with tables and chairs. Looking up she could see there was even another floor, filled to the brim with more books! The room was illuminated with wall-mounted torches, as there were no windows to offer sunlight from the outside world. Off to the left there appeared to be a small office of some sort. The door was closed, locked no doubt. Whoever was in charge of organizing all the books must not be there right now.

She moved to step into the large open area when she noticed something that immediately caused her to freeze. There was someone here…

Off at one of the side tables, there sat a small stack of books. To one side of the books was a sword, tucked securely in a sheath. It was a thin blade, much like one of the ones her father would sometimes use. Sitting on the other side of those books, with one held in its hands, was a person. She squinted hard, trying to make out whether it was a male or female. It would have been easier if they weren't wearing a cloak. As it was, the individual sat facing toward her, with the hood of their cloak drawn up, covering their facial features, save their nose and mouth. It was obvious they were too engrossed in their book to notice her standing there. Actually… it looked a lot like her Aunt Morgan's cloak. But what was she doing sitting here all by herself?

'Nobody else wears something like that. It must be her!' reasoned the youth. Stepping out from behind her cover, she waved an arm at the tactician.

"Hey Aunt Morgan, what are you doing here by yourself?" she called.

The person jumped, obviously startled, the book they held slipping from their grasp and clattering to the table.

"Aunt Morgan?" she asked, her voice coming out slow and a little unsure. She knew something was wrong when this person gave her no response other than to stare at her. At least she assumed they were staring. It was hard to tell when she couldn't see their eyes.

Reclaiming their lost book, the cloaked individual let out a breath they had been holding. "Sorry, you have the wrong person," they apologized.

That was a man's voice. This was definitely not her Aunt Morgan. She had to admit that at this point she was slightly afraid. Never before had she seen this person in the palace, at least that she could remember. So what were they doing sneaking in here?

'Maybe he's a bad guy,' frowned the navy haired youth.

But she would not run. She was a princess after all. This man should be the one running from her!

"Who are you?" she asked, keeping her place by the bookshelves in case he tried to come after her.

The man set his book back down, raising his head enough so that she knew he was looking her way. He took a moment to study the young lady before him.

She was very young, perhaps no more than six. She possessed large cerulean eyes and long navy blue hair that ran down her back. Said hair was adorned with a gold tiara styled hair band. Her attire consisted of a light blue dress with a white mantle over it, white stockings, and a pair of tall blue boots.

He already had a fair idea of just who it was that was standing before him. But was it safe for her to be here? He paused, sitting still and thinking to himself a moment. It didn't seem like her being here could cause problems.

The man was brought from his musing when he heard a repetitive tapping noise. Looking once more at the child in front of him, he noticed her standing with her arms crossed, one foot tapping in an annoyed fashion against the stone floor, waiting for an answer from him. It was something she had seen her mother do a number of times when irritated with her father no doubt.

He offered a gentle smile. "Me? I'm just someone who enjoys reading books."

The answer apparently did not satisfy the girl, who frowned at the response. "Don't you have a name?" she inquired further.

He nodded in return, his gaze returning to his book. "I do."

Several moments of silence dragged on as she awaited a further elaboration from the man, only to realize he once more had his nose in the book in front of him. "Hey! It's mean to ignore someone."

"Oh? How am I being mean?" he asked, his book still holding the majority of his attention.

The princess stomped a foot down in annoyance. "You didn't tell me your name!"

If she had to guess, the cloaked person was probably raising an eyebrow at her. "But you didn't ask me what my name was. You only asked if I had one, and I answered that question."

The girl's frown only deepened. He was being a smart-alec. Her mom didn't like it when she acted like one at times, and she could now understand why. It was annoying.

"You're not supposed to be here," she muttered, unsure of whether it was actually true or not. For all she knew, maybe he was the librarian here.

His reaction proved otherwise. "Hmm, maybe not. Are you supposed to be here?"

"I'm a princess. I can go wherever I want," she replied, sticking her tongue out at the man.

"Oh, is that so? And which princess might you be?" he asked, setting his book down in the process.

"Princess Lucina," she answered proudly. "But papa calls me Lucy."

A small smile formed on the man's partially displayed visage. "Well, it's nice to meet you Lucina. You can call me Mark."

The two stared at each other for several moments, an uncomfortable silence threatening to descend on the only occupants of the room.

"Are you a bad guy?" inquired the young princess.

The man's head jerked backward, as if recoiling at the very idea. "Bad guy? Why would you think I'm a bad person?"

"You snuck into the palace," reasoned Lucina. "I haven't seen you before, so you must be up to something."

'Hmm… clever girl. Not too much of a surprise though, I suppose.'

"Do your parents ever tell you bed time stories?" he asked suddenly.

She nodded enthusiastically. Bed time stories were one of her favorite things. They were always about heroes stopping villains, and people falling in love. Sometimes she liked to pretend that she was a big hero, off to save the world.

"You know what "bad guys" usually do, right?"

Again, she nodded.

"Have you ever heard of a story where the bad guy snuck into a castle just to read some books?" inquired Mark.

The youngster scrunched her face up in thought. That did sound a bit silly. She shook her head, indicating a negative.

"So then, I must not be a bad guy," reasoned the man, a smile coming to his face once more.

To someone else, the reasoning might be a bit faulty, but to the young lady standing before him it seemed to make sense. By her own logic it made sense that if he had been able to sneak into the palace he would have done something bad by now if he were evil. So… he must not be evil, right?

"I guess not," she mumbled.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a sound off towards the corridor she had come from caught her attention. Turning to face where she had entered the room, she slowly made her way back along the bookshelves. Before she could round the corner, someone had rushed around it first and scooped her up in their arms.

"Rar! I gotcha!" laughed Sumia, hugging her daughter, who pouted at the realization that she had been discovered and had lost their game of hide and seek.

"What are you doing in here sweety?" inquired the brunette, as she set the princess back down.

She ran around the corner and pointed to the table the newcomer had been sitting at. "I was talking to…"

Only to find that it was now vacant. The chair was pushed in, there were no books lying out, and no sign of the individual she had been engaged in conversation with for the past few minutes.

"Huh? Where'd he go?" she asked, looking around the room. "He was right here!"

"Who was right here?" inquired her mother. "Honey, was someone in here with you?"

She nodded in affirmation, running over to the table and pointing to the spot that Mark had once occupied. "Uh huh! He was sitting right here, and he had a whole stack of books he was reading! He said his name was Mark."

Sumia gave her daughter an awkward smile, unsure of what to think. "Is that right? Well I'm sure your friend is a very nice person. Maybe it was time for him to go home for the day."

How odd that Lucina would choose to come up with an imaginary friend during a game of hide and seek.

The girl in question frowned at seeing no proof that the man had been there to begin with. Had she… had she just imagined him? No! He was there!

"Come on sweety. Let's go meet with your father. It's almost dinner time." Sumia offered a hand to her daughter.

The little girl nodded, accepting the offered limb. As they made their way out of the library, she looked over her shoulder one last time to see if there was any sign of the cloak wearing man. She found none.

X-x-X-x-X

Dinner was a casual affair, as per usual. Gathered around a large rectangular table in the dining hall sat Chrom and his loved ones. At the head of the table was the Exalt himself. In the first chair to his right sat his wife, Sumia, followed by Lucy (Lucina the younger) and Cynthia. To his left was Lucina, then Morgan. With the loss of her father, the tactician in training held on tightly to what remained of her past, namely her mother. As such, she never tended to be far from the time-traveler if she could help it.

The rest of the table was occupied by various members of the original Shepherds, the ones who had elected to remain in service to House Ylisse after the defeat of Grima. There were fewer than were normally there, due to the number that had gone with Frederick to aid the recently devastated village.

Conversation was as normal as could be expected, for the most part involving Chrom informing his family of the on-goings of the day. The situation regarding the Risen was of particular interest to his older daughters. Cynthia and Lucina had spent so much of their lives fighting the undead soldiers that they felt almost obligated to be involved when the roaming menace appeared from time to time.

The younger of the two was put off that she had not been sent with the group to hunt down the perpetrators of the unwarranted attack. Lucina however, was downright indignant.

"Father, I don't see why I couldn't have accompanied the Shepherds on their task."

The blue haired Exalt let a quiet sigh escape him. "Lucina, we've been over this before. You don't need to be there every time the Risen show up. The group I dispatched to deal with this is more than capable of managing the situation by themselves. Even if things turn out worse than expected, Frederick is leading the group. He can handle things."

The time traveler frowned down at her plate, refusing to meet her father's eyes.

"Allow me this then," started Chrom, folding his hands in front of himself. "Why do you feel the need to be there? Have you not done enough all ready by coming back and helping to ensure Grima's defeat?"

His eldest daughter flinched at the name of the Fell Dragon, but offered no immediate response.

Sumia placed a hand on her husband's arm, gaining his attention in the process as he glanced her way. "Perhaps after fighting the Risen for so long, she just feels obligated to help in any way she can whenever they show up. Remember, they were always a threat that she and the others had to deal with on a daily basis. It was her duty to put a stop to them. It's hard to let go after something like that."

Lucy looked back and forth between her older sister and her parents, her food long forgotten. She always found it odd when they would start talking about things like the Fell Dragon. What did her father mean by "coming back"? Did Lucina run away somewhere and come back after a while? It felt like they weren't telling her the full story…

Chrom met his wife's eyes momentarily. The look told her so much about her husband's state of mind at the present. She could see the tenderness, expressing his gratitude for her attempt to diffuse the situation. The cool steel of his eyes also let her know that he was well aware of his daughter's true motivation for wanting to be involved with the hunt.

Ever since certain events had transpired, ultimately resulting in the defeat of Grima, Lucina had become more driven than usual to eliminate the remnants of the Fell Dragon's minions. The few times that he had been present with her on the battlefield against the undead adversaries, he had watched with barely concealed concern as she threw herself headlong into the fray with wild abandon. Her usual sword style was still present, more polished and precise than ever, but there was so much ferocity and anger behind her strikes that it was almost terrifying to behold.

Was she concerned for the innocents dragged into the conflict by the fallen warriors? Yes, most assuredly. Was that her main motivation now that Grima had been vanquished? No. It was vengeance. Every time she took to the field against the fell beasts, it was not mindless warriors she saw, but Grima himself. And he knew why.

Despite the fact that the dragon had been eliminated once and for all, never again able to threaten the world, it had managed to take one final thing from the time traveler…

Ylisse's ruler cleared his mind of such thoughts. He too lost someone important to him that day, and even though he was upset his friend had taken such matters into his own hands, knowing the price he would have to pay, he had come to understand and accept why his friend had done what he had. He had done so to protect those he had come to care for, for the group of people that had taken him in and given him a family when he himself had, nor could remember, any of his own.

But somehow his daughter could not let go. Did she perhaps see this as another failure? He could only hope that by destroying these representatives of Grima that she would be given some measure of peace. He observed his daughter and felt his heart grow heavy.

"Lucina."

The addressed woman looked up at her father, uncertain of what she could say to him.

"The next time a report of Risen comes up, I will send you to lead the team of Shepherds personally. Will that suffice?" he inquired.

She offered him a miniscule smile. "Thank you father. I would like that."

"Hey, what about me? I wanna go too!" chimed in Cynthia, not wanting to be left out of the action. "It's been forever since I got a chance to whoop some Risen butt! And I've got the perfect heroic entrance all picked out!"

Chrom and Sumia laughed at their younger child's excitability. She certainly didn't lack for spirit.

"I think we can arrange that," giggled Sumia, attempting and failing to stifle her mirth by covering her mouth with a hand. She looked to her husband, who could only sigh with exasperation, before shaking his head. He just couldn't say "No" to his wife.

Neither parent even bothered to regard Morgan on the matter. Not because they were waiting for her to give her own input, but because they knew what the result would be. The tactician would insist on accompanying her mother into the field for the sake of ensuring her safety. It was a foregone conclusion, and neither saw any point in attempting to dissuade her from going.

After a round of good-natured chuckles, conversation seemed to fall into a lull for a moment, a perfect opportunity for the younger Lucina.

"Papa?"

The wielder of Falchion met his second youngest's eyes. "Yes Lucy?"

She shifted in her seat slightly, now aware that all eyes of her family were on her. "Do you know anyone named Mark?"

The Exalt frowned, face scrunched in thought. What an odd question. He had met two or three different Ylissean citizens with the name, but did not know any on a personal level. "Sorry, honey. I'm afraid I don't know anybody with that name."

It was his daughter's turn to frown, something he took note of. "Are you sure, papa?"

He nodded. "I'm afraid not."

She looked to her aunt, who might hopefully have some knowledge on the matter. "What about you, Aunt Morgan?"

The aspiring tactician placed a finger on her chin as she thought on the matter, searching the memories she currently possessed. "Hmm…" she started after a moment of thinking. "The only Mark I know of is one that I read about in a book. He was supposedly a tactician from Elibean lore, who fought alongside Lady Lyndis. He was said to be a master strategist who never lost a single person under his command."

"Did he wear a funny robe?" inquired the young royal.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at the question, but smiled nonetheless, finding it to be an amusing inquiry. "Well, he was well known for always wearing a green cloak. It was supposed to be his trademark."

Dang, another dead end. "Okay. Thanks Aunt Morgan."

Chrom looked to his wife, who in response gave an "I'll tell you later" look.

Sumia excused herself from the table, saying she had to relieve Lissa from watching three year old Cynthia. Much like her older counterpart, the energetic tyke seemed to enjoy the company of her cousin Owain. Lissa had been more than happy to watch her, along with her own son, for the day.

The other occupants of the table excused themselves in short order, their meal completed.

X-x-X-x-X

Was it youthful curiosity that brought her back, or nagging doubt? Lucina could not help but wonder which it was as she entered the library once more the following day. Had she just imagined the strange intruder, like her mother said? Or had someone actually been there?

Peaking around the corner of a bookshelf, she found the aisle to be empty. This was the third one she had checked, and so many were left…

'This is going to take forever!' groused the navy haired royal. She released a huff of annoyance, but quickly quieted herself when she heard a creak of wood from a few rows over. Stealthily, she made her way over to the edge of that row.

Sneaking a glance around the side of the shelf obstructing her view, she saw a person standing on a ladder, their arms filled with books as they carefully moved back down the rungs. It was him! It had to be! He even was wearing the same robe as the other day.

"Where did you go yesterday?" she demanded, rounding the corner and stomping his way.

"Gah!"

The youngster had surprised him, resulting in him toppling backwards off the ladder. He crashed to the stone floor, his back slamming against the bookshelf behind him, and the books he had been carrying ever so carefully raining down upon him, one smacking against his skull.

She froze, watching the entire scene unfold before her. She hadn't meant to get him hurt! Snapping out of her stupor, she sprinted to the man's side, all the while offering apologies.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to make you fall!" she rambled, shaking the man's shoulder.

When she received no response, her mind kicked into overdrive.

'Oh no, I killed him! Papa's gonna be so mad!'

She could see it now. They were going to put her in prison for killing a man. Papa would be ashamed of her! Would they kick her out of the family?

As busy as she was with her newly found internal strife, she failed to notice the injured man groan, all the while rubbing his skull, which was now sure to have a lump the following day. Using the book shelf behind him for support, he slowly made his way to his feet.

"Ah, you're not dead!" cheered the royal family member. The relief in her voice was apparent.

Leaning down to collect his books, Mark muttered out, "No, thankfully a little fall like that won't do me in."

Although he was in a bit of pain, he smiled when a small hand began helping him to pick up the books he had dropped. Holding out the last book to him, Lucina averted her eyes, embarrassed by the result of her earlier actions no doubt.

"I'm sorry," she offered, voice quiet. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

Setting the recovered books down on one of tables in the main area of the room, he gave a smile in return and waved her off. "Don't worry about it. You just surprised me, that's all. I'm not hurt."

The princess watched him a moment, trying to determine whether he was telling the truth or just trying to make her feel better. In the end she decided that it was the former of the two, as he seemed to be moving around easily enough and without any jerky movements or limps that would indicate pain.

Stepping up closely to the man, she reached out and poked his arm. Sure enough, there was resistance. He was solid, which meant he was actually there! He wasn't just a figment of her imagination. Looking upwards into the depths of his cloaked visage, she found that she still could see nothing past his nose. Maybe he was using a spell to hide what he looked like? Wait… could he even use magic?

"Is there something on my face?" he inquired, looking down at the six year old.

She huffed in response and turned away, annoyed that she still didn't know anything about him other than the fact that he was actually a real person.

Pulling out a chair, Mark unclipped the sword at his side and set it down on the table, before taking a seat.

The royal youth stared at the blade, before addressing the seated seeker of knowledge. "How come you do that?"

He followed her pointing finger. "What? Why do I take that off? Well, it's uncomfortable to sit down with one of those strapped to your waist, especially when you plan to sit for a long time."

Pulling out the chair to the man's left, Lucina hopped up and leaned over to see what books he had collected today. One had a picture of two dragons, one black, the other white. Another book had a large map of the world on its cover. The others only had text on the front, with words that were a bit too large and complex for her to understand.

He seemed to pay her no mind as she watched him flip through one of the books. He was moving at a very quick pace. 'He must not like books that don't have pictures in them,' she reasoned.

"Maybe you should read this one," she suggested, pointing to the book with the dragons on front. "I bet it has lots of pictures to look at."

He chuckled in response. "I'll tell you what. When I finish reading this one, I'll look at that one next."

She stared openly at her companion. "You mean you can read that fast?!"

"Well, I've always liked a good book. But I'm not reading the entire thing, only certain parts," he elaborated.

She nodded, even though she didn't quite understand what he meant. What was he looking for? Or, perhaps he just hadn't found the right story yet.

"What kind of story are you trying to find?" she asked, the innocent question making him pause momentarily to contemplate it.

"What kind of story am I looking for…?" he started, voice somber. "One with a happy ending."

"Oh, mama and papa tell me those kinds all the time!" she informed the cloak wearer. "They told me one about a Prince and a Pegasus Knight once. I really like that one."

The man's face cracked into a minute smile. "Yeah, I like that one too."

Reaching into his cloak, Mark produced a small book, one with a rough leather cover that had obviously seen its fair share of the elements, along with a quill and ink well. Flipping the book open, he made several notes in the text.

"You're not supposed to write in other people's books," chastised Lucina.

He continued to flip through another book that sat in front of him. "This is my book though, so I'm allowed to write in it."

"What do you write?" she inquired, leaning over to get a better look at the words scribbled in it.

He snapped the book shut with a soft "smack". "That is a secret," he teased, keeping the contents of his own book hidden from view.

The princess pouted, but did not pursue the question any further.

"How come you just disappeared yesterday?" she finally asked, her tone filled with naught but genuine curiosity.

He paused in his writing. "I had to get home. I can't stay here all day, after all."

Lucina frowned, looking down at the table top while remembering her conversation with her mother the previous day. "I told mama that someone was here, but she didn't believe me."

"I'm sorry," he supplied, surprising the girl. "I didn't mean to make you look like you were lying to your mother."

"She thinks I have a make believe friend," pouted the princess.

Mark poked himself in the chest. "Hmm, I don't feel like I'm make believe."

This evoked a round of laughter from the navy haired royal. The two continued to make idle conversation, although for the most part it was one sided. Lucina would talk, telling about her family and some of her "adventures" in the palace, while he would nod his head in return or give a short response, all the while continuing to read through the books he had picked out.

Perhaps the better part of an hour had passed before Mark stood, stretched briefly, and gathered up the books in front of him. His companion stood as well, and followed him back into the deeper sections of the library, where he returned the books to their designated shelves, thankfully without falling off the ladder this time around.

"I think it's time I went home for the day," he supplied, tucking the last book back on its shelf.

"…will you be back tomorrow?" inquired Lucina.

"Probably," affirmed the cloaked man. "I still have a few more books to get through."

"Do you want to see a magic trick?" he asked, a knowing smile present on his face.

She nodded in response, obviously one for such types of entertainment.

"Okay. Close your eyes, count to three, and then open them," instructed the seeker of knowledge.

The princess complied, closing her eyes tightly. "One… two… three!"

Upon opening her eyes, she found no trace of Mark. Once more, he was gone. She hadn't even heard him leave. Which meant… he really could use magic!

"Whoa…" she whispered in awe.

X-x-X-x-X

The pattern continued for several days. Lucina would sneak into the library, inevitably locate Mark, and the two would talk for a while as he read through his books. Then, when he was finished for the day, he would disappear as stealthily as he found his way in. And each time, he managed to do it without her seeing. It was driving her crazy!

On one rainy day, however, Mark could tell that something was wrong with the young girl. She didn't seem quite as upbeat as she normally was. It was as though she had been drained of the youthful energy she always seemed to possess.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired as he made another note in his personal book. "You haven't said much today."

She let out a sigh that was unbecoming of one that was usually bursting at the seams with happiness. "It's raining today."

He nodded, scribbling down another line in ink. "Yes, it is rather gloomy outside today."

"Papa is always sad when it rains. But when I ask him why, he just says not to worry, and that he's fine. But I know he's fibbing…" she frowned.

'How observant of her,' he noted. He had a hunch as to why the Exalt would be down on days where it rained. It had rained the day after the loss of the former Exalt, his sister Emmeryn. It was said that he had never been the same since then, regardless of whatever front he may put up around others in public.

"My big sister is like that sometimes too."

Mark stopped in his writing. "Which sister is that?"

"I told you about her before. My big sister Lucina. She has the same name as me, so Papa calls me Lucy so we don't get mixed up," started the second youngest of Chrom's children. "Sometimes she gets upset when she's training, or when she is by herself. Mama says she just misses someone a lot."

"I'm sorry to hear that," offered the scholar. "That is unfortunate."

She eyed the man carefully. Now he sounded sad. She wanted to ask about it, but he probably wouldn't tell her either.

He suddenly ceased his writing. "It looks like I have to leave earlier today than I expected."

"Huh?"

Packing up his belongings quickly, the man stood and snatched up the books he had selected for the day. "I'll bring them back, I promise."

She had no time to ask what he was talking about. A golden flash of light and a brief hum of magical energy signaled his departure.

"Wow!" breathed the princess. He could teleport! She had heard about it in stories before, but now she had actually seen someone do it!

"Lucina? What are you doing back in here?"

The youngster jumped slightly, surprised to hear her mother's voice from behind her. "Hi mama! I was just talking with Mark."

"Of course you were, dear."

She was sorely tempted to sigh in exasperation. But then, Lucina was very young. Children were allowed to have imaginary friends.

"Daddy was looking for you," she informed her second youngest. "Let's go find him."

X-x-X-x-X

"I'm starting to get worried Chrom," admitted Sumia.

"About?" inquired the addressed man. The two were preparing to turn in for the evening, and Sumia was busy brushing her hair while Chrom was setting his armor off to the side for the night.

"Lucina."

He paused in his evening ritual. "Which one?"

"Our younger Lucina," supplied the mother of four. "This is the second time I've found her in the archives. And she insists that she has been speaking with someone by the name of Mark. But I've checked, Chrom, and no one else is in there with her."

"Don't worry so much," chuckled the Exalt. "She's young. She's allowed to use her imagination, isn't she?"

"But… she just so firmly believes that someone else is there. I mean, what if there actually is?"

"What, you mean she can see ghosts or something?" joked the ruler of Ylisse. When he received no response, he turned to find that his wife had ceased her brushing, the tool sitting in her lap.

Moving around the bed, he sat next to the troubled queen and pulled her against him, allowing him to embrace her. "Look, I understand your concern. I'll ask the others to keep an eye on her, okay?"

Sumia nodded, before leaning into her husband. "I just worry, Chrom."

"I know you do," he responded, kissing the top of her head. "I promise you we'll figure out what's going on."

She sighed with contentment, enjoying moments like these. "How has your investigation with the archives been going?" inquired his wife.

He huffed with frustration. "It's the damndest thing. I've checked with Lissa, Lucina, Cynthia, and even Morgan, yet none of them have been in the archives. And the guards on duty report that whenever they see Lucy go in, she always comes out without any books. So I know she isn't responsible. And there aren't any windows in the room, so it's not like someone has simply scaled the walls and snuck in."

"Do you think maybe someone is sneaking in when the guards change shifts?" the brunette inquired.

The Exalt shook his head, indicating a negative. "That can't be it. The guards on duty can't leave until their replacements show up at the post. The archives are guarded at all times."

An easy silence settled over the two as Chrom held his wife close. Moments like this made life worth living. It let him know that all the bloodshed, all the sacrifice, it had been worth it.

"You'll figure it out," reassured Sumia. "I know you will."

"I certainly hope so."

X-x-X-x-X

Bored. Bored, bored, bored… by all that was holy she was booooooored.

Lucy sat in one of the many chairs that occupied the archives, swinging her feet back and forth off the edge of the seat. It was taking Mark forever to get there today. Maybe it was because the royal archivist was actually there. Looking over at the office, brightly lit today, she could see the kindly old man that tended to the books rummaging around for something in his desk.

After a minute or so of looking he appeared to give up on his search, instead opting to exit his office and lock it with the key he carried on his person.

Shuffling past the young princess he stopped to glance at her. "Waiting for someone?" he inquired.

She nodded in response. "Yep! He'll be here any minute."

Naturally he assumed it was her father she was referring to. After all, there were no other males with permission to enter the archives aside from himself or the Exalt, at least none that would have an interest in actually visiting the archives.

"Tell him I said hello," returned the old man, continuing on his course to exit and head home for the day.

"Okay!" she called back, watching him leave. "Huh, I wonder if he knows Mark."

A flash and a mild humming noise alerted her to Mark's entrance. Sure enough, there stood the scholar in the middle of the room.

"That is so neat!" she gushed, impressed by the feat of magic. "Can you show me how to do that?

He jumped slightly, surprised that the princess was all ready there and awaiting his arrival. Normally he would get there before she would.

The knowledge seeker rubbed the back of his head through his cloak's hood, most likely in embarrassment. "Well, I don't know if you'd be able to learn how to do that. It's really tricky, even for someone like me," he offered, attempting to assuage her curiosity.

The girl pouted, sad she might not be able to learn such a trick. She could have so much fun with a power like that though! There was no way mama would be able to catch her in a game of hide and seek this way.

As the man known as Mark made his way over to a bookshelf to retrieve his literature for the day, Lucina fell in step with him.

"Sooo… whatcha getting to read today?" she inquired.

The pale man reached up and rubbed his chin in thought, coming to a stop in front of the section marked "Historical: F-H."

"Just a few books from here," he noted, grabbing three books from the "G" section. She couldn't quite make out the names, but there were pictures of a big black dragon on front.

She followed him back to the table he normally sat at. Hopping into her own seat, she watched him situate himself and begin flipping through the first book. He stopped on a page with thin, elaborate text. Opposite the page was a picture of a massive black dragon with glowing red eyes. She shivered unconsciously at the sight.

"He looks scary," she observed.

The scholar "hmm'd" momentarily in agreement. "Yes, he was."

The blunette looked up at the man, brows furrowed questioningly.

"I've read plenty of stories about it," elaborated Mark, gesturing with a finger toward the image of the beast.

"So, you must know lots of stories, right?"

The man paused in his writing, but only for a moment. He flipped the book to a different page and began skimming with his index finger. "Hmm, yes I suppose you could say that."

Lucina glanced over at the newest page that had been selected. There were no pictures to accompany the words this time. Boring! "Do you know any good ones?"

Mark dipped his quill in the ink well and made a few scribbles in his personal book. "I know a few good ones. But what kind are you looking for? Adventure? Romance? …tragedy?" he finished, the last one spoken more quietly.

"I like the first two!" announced the princess. "Mama and papa always tell me ones like those. You already know my favorite one!"

He chuckled briefly, amused by her exuberance. "Ah yes, the Prince and the Pegasus Knight, right?"

She nodded, not lacking in enthusiasm. "Uh-huh! Which one is your favorite?"

He closed his book and reached for a different one. There was no more information to be gleaned from the first one.

"My favorite?" he asked rhetorically. "I don't know. My favorite one has a bit of a tragic ending. You probably wouldn't like it."

"Tell me!" she ordered. "If you like it then it has to be good, right?"

He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. A sigh escaped his lips. "Okay, this story is called the Princess of the Lost Kingdom. Once upon a time there was a princess…"

The knowledge seeker spoke quietly, opting to multitask and continue reading through his books as he recounted the story to the young royal. She listened with rapt attention as he detailed the first encounter the princess had with a young man who had forgotten his past.

At certain points she would smile and laugh, cheering for the heroes that came just in the nick of time to save the day at certain points. She also sniffled a bit and cried quietly when tragedy befell the assembled heroes, like when the princess' aunt passed away due to the cruelty of a crazed king.

In the end she didn't know what to feel as the "final battle" was described.

"…and in the end, he gave his life to save her and the others. He told the princess how much he loved her, and that he wasn't sad for doing what he did. Then he disappeared."

"That's a really sad ending," noted the Ylissean royal, sniffling a few times to get her emotions under control.

A quiet chuckle answered her. "I told you it was."

"But I liked it. Was that a true story?" she inquired.

He shrugged his cloaked shoulders. "No one knows. Some people believe it was real. Others think it was just a fabrication. In the end, nobody knows where the story actually came from. What do you think?"

The princess mimicked his actions and shrugged. "I dunno. It was pretty sad at the end… so maybe it was true."

"I guess we'll never know," Mark commented, flipping the last book shut. Scooting his seat back the scholar stood and stretched, his back popping with a satisfying sound. "I think that will do it for today."

Grabbing the books he had acquired the man made his way back to the shelves the texts had originally come from. Lucina followed, carrying one of the thicker books on her own as a way of helping.

The shadowed face looked down at her. "Are you sure you want to keep coming here every day? It must be awfully boring to just sit here and watch me read books. Wouldn't you rather be spending time with your family, or be off playing somewhere?"

Chrom's daughter shook her head in response. "Nope. I get to see mama and papa all the time. But I like being here. It's fun getting to talk to you. You know lots of stories, and you don't mind listening to me."

"Well you are quite enjoyable to speak with. I'm glad you think I'm good company. Most people think I'm too much of a bookworm," he supplied, crinkling his nose at the last statement.

Stopping at the designated section Mark began placing books back in their proper places. It didn't take long for everything to be placed back where they belonged, save for the book Lucina carried. Taking the offered book, he reached up to place it on the top shelf-

"Lucy! Are you in here?"

Only to freeze and drop the tome.

The six year old watched as Mark seemed to seize up in panic. The man quickly glanced down at his waist.

'Damn, I left it at the table!' he growled internally.

The scholar took off for the mass of tables in the center of the room at full tilt. Try as she might, Lucina could not keep up with the older individual. Her short legs simply weren't adequate for matching his speed.

"Wait!" she called. "Why are you running?! It's just my big sister!"

"Lucy?" called the voice again. "Is that you?"

Lucy rounded the corner leading to the center of the room just in time to see Mark snatch up the sword that was laying on the table and then disappear with a hum of magical energy. There was no flash to accompany it this time.

Not a moment later the form of her older sister stepped into view. "Ah there you are Lucy. What are you doing in the archives again? I thought father said not to be in here alone."

Lucy flinched at the minor scolding tone that Lucina used to address her. "Sorry. I was just talking with Mark. But he had to leave."

The older princess nodded at her words. "I see."

She took a moment to look around the room, cerulean eyes taking note of the current conditions. "And what were you and Mark talking about?"

"He told me a story! It was really good, but the ending was sad. Do you want to hear it?" beamed Lucy, hoping for some attention from her sibling.

The elder princess shook her head. "Sorry Lucy," she offered apologetically, "Maybe another time. I'm just here to check on you. Father has an assignment for Cynthia and I, and we really do need to get going. Let's go find Aunt Lissa. I believe she and Owain are supposed to be by today. Maybe you'd like to play with him for a while?"

She smiled happily at the notion of being able to play with her cousin. They'd be able to play another game of Hero Knights! With this in mind she took off down the hallway that led back to the main castle corridors.

Lucina moved to follow her, but stopped. She turned and looked around the room one more time. There was something that felt… off about the room; but at the same time it was familiar, comforting almost.

"Hey! Big sis, aren't you coming? Huh, what's the matter?" called her younger self, peeking around the corner of the hall at her.

She was confused by the question. "What do you mean Lucy?"

The younger princess stepped forward and pointed up at her. "You're crying."

"W-What?" she brought a hand up to her face and rubbed at her eyes. Sure enough, there was some moisture at the corners of them. She let out a sniffle as she wiped them on the back of her sleeve. "It's nothing Lucy. Something just got in my eye, that's all."

The girl frowned but grudgingly accepted the response. "…okay."

"Come on, let's go look for Aunt Lissa."

With that, the two departed.

X-x-X-x-X

"Are you going to keep ignoring me all day?"

The blunette pouted with her cheeks puffed out, but otherwise remained silent.

"I already said I was sorry for running out like that," remarked the man known as Mark. "It's just… if anyone else sees me then there might be problems. I don't want that to happen."

Lucina exhaled loudly, her annoyance evident in the sound. "You could have just said that before you started running like that," chastised the child.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just panicked. Can you forgive me?"

The Ylissean royal casually glanced over her shoulder at the cloaked man. She quickly looked away and stuck her nose up in the air with a "hmph".

Laughing quietly the scholar knelt next to the girl he had lost favor with. "Princess Lucina, this lowly scholar humbly begs your forgiveness. He would forever be grateful if you could bless him with your favor once more."

Lucina spun around in her chair so she was fully facing the man. "Apology accepted!" she beamed.

He let out a mock sigh of relief. "Thank goodness! I don't know if I'd be able to go on without being able to speak with my favorite little princess."

The royal youth pouted at the mention of "little."

The issue between them cleared up, Mark returned to his study of the day's texts. It was unfortunate for him that he had exhausted most of the available knowledge from Ylisse's royal archives. He still hadn't found what he was looking for. But there was information he could use, clues that would lead him to his next destination.

"Hey Mark?"

He hummed in response, his mind elsewhere.

"Will you keep coming by every day?" How hesitant she sounded, yet so serious.

He ceased his musing temporarily. What a curious question to be asking. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've looked through most of the texts that are available on the topic that I'm researching."

The blunette carefully watched her feet as she swung them back and forth over the edge of her seat. "But you'll still come back, right? Even if there aren't any more books for you read?"

He didn't dare look the youngster in the eye. "I… can't say. There's something important I have to do, and I don't know how much time I have left to do it."

"Then let me help you!" she volunteered. "It'll go faster with two people, right?"

"Look, Lucina. I'm going to be going to places that are very far away. Some of them will even be dangerous, too dangerous for someone as young as you," he reasoned.

"But… but I can help!"

"Lucy. What about your parents? Your mother and father would certainly miss you. And if something were to happen to you…" he trailed off, trying not to imagine the sorrow that would come of it.

She went deathly quiet, unable to respond to the point the scholar had made. 'Mama and papa…'

For the remainder of the time spent in the archives, Lucy and Mark sat in silence, neither willing to speak for fear of making things worse than they all ready were.

The cloaked man continued skimming through various texts, making notes where applicable in his own leather bound book. Occasionally Lucina would look over to see what he was writing. He was so quick with his penmanship that it made the task difficult. In addition, his words were written in a fancy flowing script that she couldn't quite make out. Everything seemed to simply blend together from one letter into another. It made it tough to tell where one word ended and a second one began.

Eventually she gave up trying to discern his text and looked away with a huff. She missed the small grin that appeared on his face because of it.

In the end, however, Mark ended up finding himself correct in thinking there wasn't much more for him to learn from the royal archives of Ylisse. Getting to his feet, the knowledge seeker began gathering up the books he had selected for what would be his last day in Ylisstol. Lucina, ever the helpful little assistant, grabbed the final book for him and took a step past him towards the section the literature had come from.

"I won't be coming back after today," the man threw out suddenly.

Whump!

The book Chrom's daughter had been holding fell to the ground, its cover impacting the stone floor with a loud sound to accompany it. The girl who had been carrying it remained still.

"Why?" she whispered as her figure began trembling.

"Please understand Lucy, it's not because of you. I would love nothing more than to be able to come back here every day and talk to you. But-"

"Then why don't you?" countered the blue haired youth, voice getting slightly louder with each word. "You… you can teleport can't you? Then why can't you come back each day after you get the books you want?!" she demanded.

He had been afraid of this. "Teleporting isn't easy Lucy, I told you that before. I can't do it very often or I get tired, and I can't go that far with it. I have to make jumps from place to place."

"You're just making up excuses!" cried the blunette.

He took a step in the girl's direction, only for her to take one backwards. Cerulean eyes, searched around the room for something, anything that she could use. Finally they came to rest on an object resting on top of the table Mark had been using to read his books.

Rushing around the confused scholar, Lucina grabbed the sword that the man had always brought with him.

"Hey, put that down," he instructed, moving to retrieve his belonging.

"No!" she retorted stubbornly, clutching the sheathed weapon to her tightly with both arms. "If I take it then… then you have to come back to get it!"

He sighed, both in exasperation and understanding. "Look Lucy. That item is special to me. Someone very important gave it to me, someone I care for deeply."

"But… but I don't want you to go," she sniffled, a few tears spilling from her eyes. "You're the only grownup friend I have."

Moving to the distraught youth, Mark used one of his cloak's sleeves to wipe away her tears. She didn't resist. "How about this then?" he asked.

The scholar knelt down, putting himself at eye level with the Ylissean princess. "If you promise to take really good care that, I'll let you hold on to it for me. And one day I'll come back to get it from you. This way you don't forget about me, and I have a reason to come back and see you again. Does that sound fair?"

She studied him silently, eyes probing him for any sign of lies. It was a daunting task when half of the man's face was covered in shadow. Finally though, she nodded. "You promise to come back?"

He smiled. "I swear it. One day I will come back to see you and retrieve my blade."

'As long as I know it's in good hands… I guess I can part with it for a little while,' he sighed internally. 'If she's anything like her counterpart then I know it should be safe.'

Truly he did not wish to be parted from the blade, but he fortunately had other mementos to remind him of her…

"Okay," she agreed. It wasn't perfect, but it was at least a promise that she would one day get to see him again.

"Now," he started, standing back up to his full height. "Let's get these books put away bef- wha-!"

CRACK!

The princess could only watch in abject horror as her friend turned to replace the books and tripped over the one text she had dropped. He promptly lost his balance and toppled forward, his skull slamming into the edge of one of the tables. From there he rebounded slightly and collapsed face down on the floor.

"Mark!" she called, running over to check on him. Shaking his still form, she received no response. "Mark, are you okay? Can you hear me? What's wro…"

A small puddle of red liquid was seeping out from under his hood around his head. She took a step backwards from the body, then another. The sword she had been holding clattered to the ground, her hands now covering her mouth in horror. Turning on her heels she bolted from the room as fast as her feet could carry her.

The two guards standing watch over the archives were shocked when the second youngest princess came bolting out of the room as if the Fell Dragon were on her heels. One of the two opened a door and glanced down the lit passageway. Seeing nothing and hearing naught but the crackling of the torches that lined the walls, he closed the portal and shrugged when his companion gave him a questioning look.

Lucina ran. She ran for all she was worth, ignoring her pained lungs as they scream for more air. Rounding another corner she saw her destination in sight. "PAPA!" she yelled.

The youth nearly slammed into the doors leading into the throne room. One of the posted guards opened said door when he saw the speed at which Chrom's daughter was moving, allowing the royal entrance.

"PAPA!" she yelled again.

The man in question's head snapped up at the call of his second youngest. "Lucy? What is it? What's wrong?"

She allowed herself a brief respite to regain her breath, and in the mean time looked around the room. Near Chrom were her mother, Aunt Lissa and Uncle Lon'qu. Cousin Owain was there as well, but he was busy hiding behind her uncle's legs.

"Papa, come quick! It's an emergency!" she yelled, before turning and running from the room.

The Exalt sat for a second, trying to make sense of what was happening. He looked to his wife, then his sister and her husband. Each seemed just as confused as he was. But he was certain of one thing. The panic he had heard in Lucy's voice, and fear he saw in her eyes, those were real.

He glanced to his wife, who nodded. Ylisse's leader got to his feet and wasted no time in sprinting from the throne room, hot on his daughter's trail. He had a fairly good idea of where she was going.

"What was that all about?" inquired Lissa, looking to her sister in law for an answer.

Sumia shook her head, unsure of what to tell her. "I don't know. Lucy's been acting a little strange recently. I think this may have something to do with it."

"You aren't worried?" came Lon'qu's quiet voice. Ylisse's queen had been around the stoic man long enough to know he sounded concerned for the wellbeing of his niece. It made her smile internally to know he cared.

Had Lucy been injured, she would be concerned. But as it stood, she seemed more afraid of something else. She had faith her husband would be able to help their daughter.

Chrom ran, thanking the gods above that he was still in such good shape. His daughter was small, but dang was she fast when she wanted to be. Rounding the corner he could see her just ahead. Catching up to her and matching pace was but a simple task.

"What's the hurry Lucy? What's going on?" he asked, looking down to see his daughter's face set in grim determination.

"He's hurt, papa! He needs help!" she answered, her response confusing him even further.

"Who?"

"Mark! He fell and hit his head on the table. He stopped moving and he was bleeding!" she cried, upset that her carelessness that had caused the whole situation to begin with.

The lord frowned. Mark? Her imaginary friend? That's what this was all about? But wait… 'She said he was bleeding. Who imagines an imaginary friend getting hurt, and bleeding no less?'

"I'll go ahead and check on him, okay?" he asked.

The Ylissean youngster nodded. "Please help him papa! I don't want him to die!"

With that last thought from him daughter, Falchion's wielder took off at his maximum speed, easily outpacing his second youngest.

X-x-X-x-X

With a groan Mark opened his eyes, only to be met by the dull grey of the stone floor. "What happened…? Ugh, my head," he muttered, reaching for his throbbing skull.

He stopped when he felt a warm, sticky substance. Pulling the limb away he saw his hand covered in red. Blood. Well that explained the splitting headache that was tearing through his cranium at the moment. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, using the very table he had smashed his head into to steady himself.

So distracting was the pain that lanced through his skull that he failed to hear footsteps making their way into the inner sanctum of the archives. "What the- Who?! No…"

His entire body tensed. That voice. No, not now! Turning his head slowly, he was met with the confused and disbelieving visage of Ylisse's Exalt.

"Robin…? Is that you?"

He collapsed against the table, his head pounding, both from injury and his own thoughts, yelling, screaming at him to run.

The lord took a tentative step forward, followed quickly by another, and another. He was picking up speed. "Is it really you? This isn't some horrible, deceitful trick?"

The scholar staggered to his feet, backing away as quickly as he could. "NO! Get back! I don't want to hurt you!"

He slowed, but continued advancing nonetheless. "What are you talking about? Robin, please."

The caster gathered up what strength he could and vanished in a flash of light.

"No! Come back!" His pleas fell on deaf ears. It was him. He'd recognize his voice and the feel of that magic energy anywhere. It may have been four years since he'd last been in its presence, but he'd recognize it all the same. In fact… wait!

'I can still feel it. He's still in the palace, and close!'

He raced for the exit, blowing past the stationed guards, and the daughter that had retrieved him in the first place. She called out to him, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. He couldn't stop, not now. Not when there was a chance…

The cloaked man frowned as he got his bearings. He cursed his lack of focus due to the headache he was suffering from. Like this, it would be impossible to make a long range teleport.

Looking around he found he was still in the castle, in an empty hallway of some sort. At best he had only moved a few dozen meters from his initial location. There was no one else around. Good. That meant he could still escape without having to face any of them.

"Wait, please!"

'Dammit!' frowned the caster, trying to focus enough to teleport once more and failing.

The Exalt came to a stop a few feet short of him, his breathing hard and ragged.

"Chrom, why are you here? I told you to stay away." Dead was the only way to describe his tone.

Despite what he had just gone through, a smile broke out across Chrom's face. "It is you! Thank the gods… I thought you gone for good. We looked for you every day… but we never found you. We had started to think you weren't going to come back."

The man now identified as Robin kept his back to his oldest friend. "Please, just stay away. I have to leave here. If I stay… I can't come back Chrom. Not yet."

The blue haired royal frowned. This wasn't what he had in mind for a reunion with his old compatriot. "What do you mean? You're just going to leave again? Where have you been? You weren't going to tell anyone that you were alive? Why?!"

The tactician ignored his questions. "I can't come back Chrom. I could deal with everyone not knowing I was alive. But I couldn't live with myself if I had to see the hatred in the eyes of my friends…"

"Robin, you aren't making any sense!" Chrom started, advancing on his once thought lost friend. "Nothing could make us hate you. We're your friends aren't we? Just come back and we can-"

In one fluid motion the tactician whirled to face his oldest friend and drew back his hood. He watched with downcast eyes as the Exalt noticeably flinched and froze in place.

Crimson eyes gazed back at Ylisse's leader.

'Gods… his eyes… and his skin. He's so pale.'

Robin had always been pale, but now he looked more like a ghost, or a corpse. His skin lacked any real color whatsoever, save for the small patches of purplish black scales that were scattered about on the discolored flesh.

"What… what happened to you Robin?" he asked, voice quiet, a rare thing for the usually confident and boisterous lord.

The blood red eyes of his friend locked with his own, devoid of light, of hope…

"It didn't work Chrom. Grima is still alive," he muttered. It pained the Exalt to hear his oldest companion sounding so defeated.

"What? But that's impossible! Lady Naga-!"

"Was wrong!" cried the snow haired tactician. "No one has ever tried the method of killing Grima that we used. There was no guarantee it would work, and it didn't!"

Finding his resolve once more Chrom stepped closer to his friend. "Talk to me Robin. Tell me what happened. Maybe we can help."

The young man took a step backwards and allowed his back to hit the wall behind him. He slid down to the stone floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. "When I gave my life to kill Grima, his body died, but his spirit did not. Instead it sought out the strongest source of its remaining power. Me."

He gave a sardonic laugh. "I thought that it would have been the end of us. I died thinking that everyone would be saved and that peace would reign for many years to come without the looming threat of the Fell Dragon. I was wrong… so wrong."

Robin seemed surprised when Chrom sat down next to him, assuming the same position as his ally. He nodded once, as if to tell him to keep going.

"Grima is nothing if not a snake that wants to avoid death at all costs. Thanks to the cursed blood in my veins he was able to tie his spirit to mine. When I came back… so did he. He inhabits this body as we speak, but he's slumbering, weakened from his defeat at our hands. That's why I look like… like this. He's slowly corrupting my body. He can't take over my body, but he can influence me, even while he dreams. Sitting here right now I feel rage just from having you so close. There's a fire in my veins that demands I kill you…"

The blue haired Exalt seemed slightly shocked when he admitted such a thing.

"But I won't listen. I refuse to. I won't hurt my friends."

Silence settled over the two. What a sight. Two of the greatest heroes from the Fell Dragon War were sitting on the floor in an otherwise empty hallway. How undignified of them. Neither cared though.

"So I take it you were our mysterious visitor in the archives?" inquired Chrom.

His companion nodded, confirming the question.

"Then the one that Lucy has been talking to this entire time has been…"

"Me," finished the descendant of Grima. He could see the unasked question in Chrom's eyes. "She hasn't been in any danger, if that's what you were wondering. For some reason, the rage and anger are gone when she's around. It's been… peaceful."

"Was it hard…?"

The sudden question caught Robin off guard. He looked over at his friend for clarification.

"Seeing her every day? Was it difficult for you?"

"More than you know," he admitted after a pause. "I know it isn't her, but still…"

The lord clapped a hand down on his friend's shoulder. "She misses you, you know. We all do."

The other man's breath hitched for a moment, a choked sound coming from him. Chrom could see the tortured soul's eyes were glistening, unshed tears waiting to fall. "And I miss her. Every day. Oh gods… every day I want nothing more than to go to her and tell her that I'm alive, to embrace her again. But I can't…"

"Why not?" Chrom asked, head tilted in confusion. "I know it doesn't look good right now, but I don't think she'd let something like your appearance-"

"I won't!" protested the grandmaster, borderline hysterical. "I can't do that to her. To tell her I'm alive, and to show her… this!" He gestured to his marred face. "I've become the thing that has haunted her dreams for years Chrom; the very thing that destroyed her life! I will not do that to her! I refuse to do that to her…"

He let his friend compose himself, waiting until he was ready to speak more. He wouldn't push the issue, lest he enter uncomfortable territory.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled like that."

Chrom offered a wry grin. "It's okay. Sometimes you just need to yell and get things off of your chest. That's what I'm here for."

He received a miniscule smile in return. It was forced and he could tell, but it was better than nothing.

"So… why Mark?"

The tactician let out a bark of laughter. "Well, I couldn't exactly go introducing myself as Robin, the deceased hero tactician of Ylisse could I? I wanted a name that I felt comfortable with. Mark was the name of-"

"A famous tactician from the tales of Elibe," the lord interrupted. Robin seemed surprised that he actually knew that. "Funnily enough, he was also rumored to have a severe case of amnesia early on in his tactical career."

A true smile spread on Robin's face. "Morgan?"

Chrom laughed, not embarrassed that he'd been figured out. "Morgan," he confirmed.

Ah yes, his daughter was indeed a smart one. Her intellect rivaled, if not surpassed his own. She was a veritable encyclopedia of knowledge, both historical and tactical. She was a fiend for knowledge, something she inherited from him no doubt. He had missed her as well, but at least she had her mother to help keep her strong.

"How long ago did you come back?"

Robin sighed, sounding tired. "Two years ago."

It had taken two years for him to return to the land of the living, and even then he kept himself hidden from all of his allies. A silence settled over to two once more. When the white haired youth stood back up, the Exalt of Ylisse was the one to break it.

"So what are your plans now?" he inquired.

His friend let loose a sigh of exasperation. "I'll go back to searching. I've been going from country to country, library to library, royal archive to royal archive, trying to find information that might help me. Something, anything that might assist in removing Grima's spirit from my body, or maybe finish it off in its weakened state."

"And if you can't find anything?"

"Then I'll take my own life and drag him to hell with me. I won't allow him to hurt anyone else ever again."

If the shocked expression on Chrom's face was anything to go by, he did not approve of the plan. "But if you do that-!"

"I won't come back this time. I know." He sounded resigned to his potential fate. "I can only hope the same will be true of Grima."

He turned and took a step down the hallway, stopping to look over his shoulder. "Thank you Chrom, for understanding. I won't give up. I won't take the easy way out unless I am left absolutely no choice. But… I have to go now. If I stay any longer then it will be more difficult to leave than it already is."

A hand settled upon his shoulder, before he found himself being spun around to face the Exalt. His long time friend pulled him in close and hugged him tightly. "Keep yourself safe Robin. Don't lose hope, and don't give up. Remember, anything can change. Just hurry up and find whatever it is you're looking for. I want my daughter happy again."

The tactician looked away momentarily, as if arguing internally about something. In the end he just reciprocated the hug. "I will. And trust me, I want to see her smile again too. I've missed it."

"Good. Then don't give me a reason to have to play the overprotective father card," snarked Chrom good-naturedly.

The two separated. Robin offered one more smile, this one a true one that reached his eyes. "Take care Chrom."

"You too. And remember, you have friends and family here waiting to see you again, so don't let us down. And don't be afraid to come around if you need some help."

He nodded, acknowledging the lord. "I won't… goodbye."

A hum of energy and a flash of light accompanied the man's departure.

Ylisse's ruler let out a sigh, falling back against the nearby wall. It was too much to take in just one day. His friend was alive, but burdened still with the curse of Grima's blood. He understood his friend's reasons for what he was doing, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He hated the fact that the fates had been so cruel to Robin, forcing him down the path he was currently traveling. Now he could only pray to the gods that Robin was successful and found what he was looking for.

Composing himself, the Exalt began making his way back to the throne room. No doubt the others were curious as to his sudden departure. He stopped when he noticed a pair of feet sticking out from behind one of the many curtains that lined the windows in the hallway.

"Come on out Lucy," he sighed, amusement in his tone.

The small pair of blue boots made a clacking noise against the stone floor, obviously surprised she had been found out. A head of navy blue hair poked itself out from behind the scarlet drape, looking slightly ashamed.

"Were you listening to our conversation?"

A nod. "Yes papa."

"How much did you hear?" He kept his tone stern now.

"Not a lot, I promise!" she was quick to reassure her father. "I was too far away to hear most of it. I just heard that he had to leave for a while."

A pregnant pause made itself known.

"Will he come back papa?" She was so quiet, worried perhaps, scared that her first grownup friend wasn't going to be returning?

"I believe he will," answered her father. "He has a reason to come back after all. So cheer up, okay?"

She smiled and nodded, pleased with her papa's response.

"Now come on out and let's head back to everyone else," he offered, holding out his hand for her to take.

She exited from behind the drape and took the offered limb.

"Lucy, where did you get that?"

He was of course referring to the thin sword that she had clutched to herself with one arm. It was a Noble Rapier, a weapon of class and status.

She hugged the weapon tighter to her body. "Mark gave it to me. He said that I could have it if I promised to take care of it for him while he's gone."

"I guess I'll have to teach you how to wield it properly then, now won't I?"

The blunette nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh!"

"Okay then. For now let's go back and meet up with mommy and your sister, okay?"

She nodded, before taking off in a run and pulling her father along with her. "Come on papa, don't be a slow poke!" she laughed.

He stumbled once before managing to keep pace with the little ball of energy.

'Things may look bad, but I know they'll work themselves out in the end. You'll find a way Robin, you always do.'

-Story End-


Draknal: Phew, 41 pages. That's that. Just another "What if?" kind of thing that came to me. On top of that, it was influenced by a certain picture that's on the internet. One of the scenes in this story relates directly to the picture in question. It's an image of Robin kneeling in front of a young Lucina, who is standing there holding a sheathed sword. I don't specifically know what the blade is, so I just went with a Noble Rapier. Meh.

A/N: Oh, and before anyone comments in a review (Because nitpickers will, I know it), Robin changed/left out certain details when he told Lucy his story. Obviously he can't be telling her about time travel and alternate version of herself and whatnot. Use your imaginations here.

I was almost kind of tempted to write another small section for this, an alternate ending if you will, where the older Lucina stumbles upon Robin in the end. It would certainly be more dramatic, romantic, and perhaps even a little darker. I think what I have here will suffice though. Hopefully.

Anywho, thanks for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed another little gaze into the workings of my mind, and what came of it. Review if you could, I know I'd like to see what you people think! Thanks!