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Hello everyone! So you might remember the Christmas fanfics I posted a while back. I wanted to post this one with them, but unfortunately could not due to it being part of a contest. Thankfully, the judging is over, which means I can now post this fanfic here! It's a Christmas fanfiction, but I hope you all enjoy! Also, this fan fiction marks the end of the Christmas fan fictions (until next time, that is)! https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12315639/1/Parade

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12034499/1/As-Fate-Decrees Summary: Anankos was defeated a century ago. Hoshido, Nohr, Valla, and the rest of the continent enjoyed a long lasting peace under the reigns of their hero kings and queens. As fate decrees, however, peace is destined to be undone. Now their descendants must struggle not only to maintain order against an ever increasingly chaotic world, but to survive. - Artorias Growing up in Valla, one grew accustomed to the cold. The country was a combination of Hoshido and Nohr's northern lands, gifted to King Corrin a century ago by the hero kings Ryoma and Xander. The Hoshidan half was bountiful and fertile, and the vast majority of Valla's harvests were grown on it. The Nohrian half was rich in ores and minerals, and as such many Vallites made a living through either farming or mining. Summer and Autumn had good harvests, more often than not but the winters were always bitter and harsh. Even inside the relative warmth of Valla's "Hall of Kings and Queens", Artorias could feel winter's bite. Fitting for such a grim day. The young man was kneeling before the largest statue in the stoney hall, built in it's center and ever so carefully maintained. It was a statue built in the likeness of the first king of Valla. The new Valla, at least. His golden eyes were set not on the features of the statue, but on the name engraved upon it's base. "King Corrin-Kamui Arianites I..." Artorias read aloud, his voice heavy and somber. "I wonder what you would make of this. During your good years you were considered an excellent ruler. During your best years, a hero." Even behind the stone doors that sealed the Hall, Artorias could not shut out the fevered cries of his people. "But then there were your later years. I suppose even the greatest of heroes cannot remain as such, whether through their own will or cruel circumstance." Artorias had never been able to relate to his great-grandfather. Many tales were told to him, but from what Artorias could gather he was a very different man from Corrin. He would likely be a very different King, as well. Gazing at the statue's features then, Artorias noted that he only scarce resembled the First King. Queen Azura Arianites' blood ran stronger through him, by his grandfather King Shigure-Socrates Arianites. Artorias stood tall, as he did, and was built strong yet agile as well. He bore the same aqua blue hair as his grandfather and great-grandmother, and shared his fair complexion with many Vallites. The Northern country had many sun-less days and long winters, after all. "Brother..." Yes, many traits of Azura's blood indeed. However he did not have the red eyes of Corrin or Kana. He was not born a dragon first, for only Corrin himself and Kana were born as such, and thus his dragonstone unleashed significantly less power compared to them. The gift the two shared came with a deadly curse, however, and they had bore to their end. "Brother. It's time." He could not even awaken the sacred sword of their house through his will, like his great aunt Kana-Korrinus could. Yet, as Artorias rose to his feet and turned his gaze on his twin sister, their golden eyes meeting each other in the dimly lit hall...he knew he must wield it all the same. The Yato lay flat along Astraia's palms, safe within it's golden sheath. Artorias took the blade with a nod and strode towards the doors of the Hall, leaving his musings on the First King behind him. The sound of his and Astraia's boots echoed throughout the stoney hall. "Brother, must it really be you that does this? Sir Drusus volunteered the moment of the sentencing. This is not-" "I must do this, sister." Artorias interrupted her, his voice blunt. "It is my duty as Valla's King." Just before he reached the stone doors he felt Astraia's hand clasp his left shoulder. Once again their golden eyes met, but this time the empathy and fear in his twin's gaze rang true for him. They, too, were very different people, but they were siblings all the same. Astraia had the kindness and empathy their ancestors were so well known for. "Astraia." Artorias' voice was softer now, as he gently moved Astraia's hand. "It is the duty of a Vallite Royal. I'd...not have it fall to you." Perhaps, in a way, Artorias had these traits as well. "You need not bear this burden alone!" Astraia tried to put anger in her voice, but she could find none. There was only sorrow and pain in it, pain that Artorias felt as well. All he could do was try to reassure his sister. "It's just...it's not right that this be your first act as King. This should not be a mark for what your reign will entail." "I know, and I do not." He stroked her arm gently before turning to the doors one last time. "But it does matter whether it is right or not. It is simply my duty, and I must carry it out." For one such as Artorias, this was a far more emotional display than normal. He could not afford to have such emotion make itself present outside of the Hall. He did not do this out of emotion, but of duty. They were right at the doors now, and the voices were louder than ever. The emotionally charged cries of their people. They called for blood. They called for peace. They called for revolution, and they called for order. Artorias would not be able to give them either. "The prisoner is in position, your majesty." The moment Artorias opened the stone doors he was met with the dutiful Edelfelt siblings. Edric was Astraia's caretaker, and Eris was his own. The silver-haired Edric had been the first to speak, and he fell right in line with Astraia as the two walked the stone path towards the city square. "Sir Drusus remains on stand-by. If you ever choose to change your mind, simply-" "Give the word. I know, Edric. Astraia informed me, and I must thank sir Drusus for his kind offer." Artorias needed to focus now, even if those closest to him wished otherwise. Ashen haired Eris was not so quick to speak as her older brother, as she often was, but she gave her liege a look similar to the one Astraia had, back in the Hall. The quarter was amongst the people now. Lined up against the houses and buildings that were so prevalent in the city of Valla. Not all of them could fit into the city square, but all the same they wanted to witness the events that were about to unfold. This was the first execution held in Valla since the earliest days of the First King. Artorias supposed he could not blame them for their eagerness. It was also...a heavily controversial event. Artorias was genuinely surprised, and relieved, that the common-folk had not stormed the wooden platform set up in the square. It was guarded by Sir Drusus and his men, armoured and armed for any possible threats. No doubt he had other soldiers set up throughout the city, scouting to make sure nothing would make this day bloodier than it was already bound to be. Artorias appreciated it, more than he could ever show. The King ascended up the steps of the platform, his sister and retainers behind him, with the mumblings and cries of his people soaking into the back of his mind. They were not what was important right now. All he needed to do was perform this duty, and get to work on restoring Valla's peace. Once atop the platform Artorias set his golden eyes on the prisoner. He was forced onto his knees, feet and hands bound tight, and he did not even look up to his King. Instead he rested his neck on the block of wood provided. He already accepted his fate, it seemed. Sir Drusus, of course, stood just behind the prisoner, halberd in hand. He was clad in the silver and black Valla's finest near always wore. The golden Vallite star was painted onto his breastplate, that all who faced such a warrior knew which country he hailed from. With his short, soft lilac hair, but hardened face, Sir Drusus was the very picture of a fine general. Artorias gave the older man a meaningful look, and with but a word he raised his halberd and banged it's base against the wooden platform. Once, twice, and on the third bang the common-folk quieted. "High Priest Thasus Quent." Artorias' voice carried throughout the square as he spoke. "You have been charged with Treason, Sacrilege, Murder, and Queenslaying." He paused, letting the last and greatest crime hang in the air to compose himself. "You have been found guilty of these crimes by the Court of Valla. Crimes punishable by death." Artorias unsheathed the golden Yato from it's sheath, the blade gleaming beneath the Vallite sun. In his hand rested the sword of a hero. The "Crux of Fate". The "Seal of Flames". It was said that it was only to be wielded by the greatest hero of a given era. Artorias could not help but note that he did not feel much a hero, especially with that blade in hand. "Do you have any last words?" "We are a godless nation!" Thasus cried out. "Heathens and damned, the lot of us! Valla had true king. A true god! And your ancestor slayed him!" Artorias said nothing. He would not interrupt the man's last words, regardless of how much he wished to. Again, though, his sister Astraia was not the same person as he. "You speak of the Silent Dragon? He was no King, and scarce a god. He was mad man! A dragon perhaps, great and powerful indeed, but degenerated beyond all hope." Astraia spoke with fire in her voice. "A pitiable soul, one that needed to be put to rest. Our ancestors are no god-slayers. Our people are not heathens. We live only because they chose to act." "God-slayers we are! Descendants of god-slayers and worshipers of god-slayers, and damned we shall remain! For it is a crime far, far worse than Queenslaying!" Thasus retorted, looking not to Astraia but to the crowd before him. Artorias felt his eye twitch at the statement. The rage that swelled in his chest at the condemned's words was such he needed to bite his lip to keep his silence. "Without the Silent Dragon who do we worship? To whom to we look to in prayer? We have no Dusk Dragon of Nohr. We have no Dawn Dragon of Hoshido. No god cares for Valla! No god cares for us!" He raised his head off the block, and even such a subtle movement was enough to have Sir Drusus ready his halberd. Artorias raised his hand, however, giving the knight the command to stand down. Thasus would have his last words. And then he would die. "I implore you, my good people. With no gods to care for us we are at the mercy of our mortal rulers. Each and every one of us is on a platform. A block! With royal blade hanging above our heads. How long before you find yourself speaking your final words? How long before you find yourselves in my position?" Thasus laid his head back along the block, and he closed his dark eyes. "What I have done, I did for the Silent Dragon. For our True King and our God." He took a calming breath, and he sighed. "What I have done, I did for Valla." What were the words of his grandfather, Shigure-Socrates? "From my experience, it is the maddest of men that oft give the greatest of speeches". Artorias believed his words then, and he believed them now. Gripping the Yato's hilt with both hands, King Artorias-Akihiko Arianites I took his position alongside the condemned. Artorias raised the Yato above his head and, with but a moment's hesitation, he let out a single whisper. "This is for Mother." The Yato cut clean, and the traitor's head rolled.

Quick Author's notes: Timeline of the fic starts pre-canon and up through the start of the game itself. Focus is mostly on Rhys, Oscar, and then Titania, Mist, Boyd, and Rolf. The relationship focus is more 'found family' (or in the case of the brothers, family-family) than 'shippy. Just a look at how characters go from joining the band as young, raw recruits, to how it becomes their home and family. Because it starts a little ways before the events of the game, there are some OCs thrown in at the beginning, who are not really important as more than background. Feedback is welcome here. Chapter One: First Day ---/-/--- It's a simple enough job, just escorting a small caravan from one town to the next, along a rather notorious stretch of road. The mere presence of armed mercenaries might be enough to put off any bandits. The more established members of the group had certainly prepared them with enough stories of what such routine jobs were like. Oscar has something of an advantage. It might be his first time riding out with the Greil Mercenaries, but he had the training of a Crimean knight behind him, that was sort of experience. Rhys isn't sure if he should feel envious or not-- well, he's certain he shouldn't feel envious, but he isn't sure if he does anyway. He has experience, with healing, but never on the battlefield. He patched people up after training accidents, or if Alberich had been over-taxed and anyone returned from a job bearing injuries. Sometimes he suspects the old bishop sometimes left one or two small ones on purpose, just so that he could improve his skills. Alberich is looking to retire, though-- he and Irakliy both, an armor knight that had been with the company since some time in Gallia, which is all Rhys really knows about him. He's never even seen Irakliy out of his armor, though he's sure someone must have done, they all live and eat and work together. Irakliy already has a trusty replacement in the form of Gatrie, but he'd gone on several missions just to see it would work out, and though he won't be on this one, Alberich will. It's some comfort. Rhys won't have to carry the well-being of his friends alone. And if he's hurt himself, he'll have someone to turn to. Should any of their employers and charges be injured in a sudden attack, Alberich could stay behind and see to them while Rhys charged out just behind the mercenaries. He can think of a lot of situations in which it would be useful to have the older man along, and not only because he doesn't know how ready he is to handle the duties of a healer solo. When they set out, Titania rides to the front right of the caravan, with Alberich and another fighter behind her, and Rhys follows behind Oscar at the left, breathing a little easier knowing that they have a more seasoned warrior protecting him from any attacks from the rear. It had been Titania's suggestion that he and Oscar stick together at the start of it-- if there was to be trouble, she'd said, Oscar may have some experience under his belt from before his time with the mercenaries, but he was still likely to be thrown in harm's way, and to receive a blow or two. If he made certain he would always be able to ride back as far as Rhys could reach, he would be able to be healed. And if they got themselves surrounded and Rhys was in danger, it would be easy enough for Oscar to pull him up onto his horse and carry him to safety. The words 'easy enough' don't fill Rhys with a sense of confidence, exactly, but Titania's tone had. She'd been calm, confident, almost breezy about things that sounded difficult and dangerous to him. And Oscar certainly hadn't seemed rattled by the suggestion. Rhys had interrupted then, once, to ask if they oughtn't be paired differently, newcomer to experienced mercenary, but she'd told him that if there was trouble, she was going to be riding out into the thick of it ahead of Oscar, and if she found herself in danger, Alberich would be able to reach her with a Physic staff, without having to put himself in the line of fire. 'Besides,' she had added, 'you and Oscar will get along nicely, I'm sure you'll be great friends'. He'd stammered, and blushed, and apologized-- to Titania, for questioning her judgment when he still had so much to learn, and to Oscar, for any accidental slight. By the time they were ready to go, however, even if Rhys had not forgotten his own embarrassment, Titania and Oscar both seemed to have. He thinks back to it a few times, as they walk alongside the caravan, resolving each time to put it out of his mind. He won't be green forever, after all. Now he knows that even if he can't see them from his inexperienced perspective, Titania has reasons for the decisions she makes, and the commander wouldn't put her in charge of a small unit of her own if he didn't trust her to bring them all home safely. And Oscar... Oscar is good-natured and friendly and not the type to hold a grudge, especially not over an imagined insult. The horses plod along slowly, to allow everyone on foot to keep pace. The sound of hooves is steady and grounding, and the smell of sun-warmed grass growing along the sides of the road is sweet like summer afternoons... There's little chatter-- there had been some, when they'd first started out, and it had died away naturally, to leave the sound of the turning wheels, the horses' hooves against hard-packed earth, the whoop and whistle of birdsong in the trees... Slowly but surely, Rhys feels his nerves ebb away. The trees they pass, single or in little clusters, are not what he had once imagined-- twisty trunks and widespread branches and bright, cheery leaves, leaves the color of Oscar's hair, really. Not the thick, dark woods he'd first pictured, with bandits lurking behind each one. Here and there, scattered wildflowers dot the verge. It's true they pass no farms, no friendly settlements or posted guards of any official capacity to keep the road safe, but it hardly feels like it deserves its reputation. The caravan comes to a halt, on Titania's orders, before they can reach a blind corner, where rocky outcroppings and thick trees obscure the bridge ahead, and they wait for her to ride ahead and scout things, and that's when the nerves make their return. It still isn't as bad as imagining what might be, before even setting out. Rhys feels in control of his fears, trusting Titania's leadership, and the skill of all his companions. He feels ready to take on the duties of a healer on the battlefield, if that's what it comes to-- to face the clash of weapons and the tang of copper in the air should enough blood spill. To be responsible for his friends' lives, as they will be for his. She orders Alberich to stay back with the caravan, when she returns-- if it is a trap, he's capable of going on the offense as well as healing, and even from over the trees and boulders, they'll see his light magic as sure as any beacon, they'd be able to ride back to his side. But, she tells them, she doubts the bandits are clever enough to spring a trap on two levels like that-- they're just hoping to catch a whole caravan unawares turning the corner, to spring out at the bridge where maneuvering will be difficult. It's unlikely they plan to draw the caravan's guard forward only to come out of hiding at the rear. The best hiding places are all ahead, or too far behind to be of any good. They move forward slowly, in a tight group up until they reach the bridge itself, the riders keeping their horses to the same slow pace as the caravan had gone. It makes it easy for Rhys to stay close behind Oscar, shielded from trouble that way. The clamor is worse than he could have anticipated-- when the bandits do leap out of hiding on hearing Titania's horse clatter across the wooden bridge, they shout at the top of their lungs, one even knocks weapons together to add to the noise, and once the fighting really starts, there's no escape from the ringing of lances hitting armor, of sword against sword, of Titania's axe cleaving straight through the wood handle of an enemy javelin only to hit against a vambrance on the next swing-- or the quieter, but more sickening sound, of weapons sinking into flesh and scraping bone. There are shouts, on both sides, but Rhys can't focus to make them out. He can only focus on Oscar, and on anyone else who falls back to his side, either to shield him from an enemy or to be healed. He feels like there ought to be a sense of guilt or shame, at using Oscar like a human shield. Oscar has two younger brothers he's responsible for, after all, isn't it a bit heartless? But Alberich had strongly recommended the practice of staying behind someone at all times, he'd even mentioned using Irakliy as a human shield, used those exact words, and Rhys knows Alberich had been anything but dismissive of Irakliy's worth. If anything, he thinks, the old bishop saw the man as a brother. The years they spent together with the Greil Mercenaries overshadowed the separate lives they had led before joining. The battles fought side by side forged a bond. It's a bond Rhys still can't fathom, when all his work so far had been back at base. But feeling it for himself is a big part of the draw of graduating to a real member of the band. Knowing firsthand what it is to put your lives in someone's hands like this is immense, perhaps as immense as the first lure of a life in the clergy had been. It was a brotherhood on par with what he might have found at a monastery, even before taking to the field of battle himself. Now... Now, provided they all make it back in one piece, it might be something greater. It isn't as big as faith itself, it doesn't overshadow that calling... no, but it is not overshadowed by it, either. It's complemented. Raised up. After all, his duties are the same, in the broadest sense. He may be just a novice, but whether he is a mercenary or not, his lot is to heal the wounded, to offer spiritual counsel, to do his best to understand what is needed from him as a servant of Ashera. It's exhilarating and overwhelming, and he feels like he might faint at times, even being kept back from the front lines. With the narrow bridge, and the surprisingly large number of bandits, it's difficult for anyone to break forward-- it seems almost as if when one foe falls, another takes his place, though Rhys tells himself that can't be, that he must be exaggerating it all to himself, his dizzied senses and inexperience blowing the fight out of proportion. It's Titania out in the front, seemingly in no need of him, and Oscar holding the line at their end of the bridge, should any bandits slip past her. They do have one fighter moving between the two when he can, and an archer standing to the side of the bridge, armed with a longbow should any bandits try fording the narrowest point rather than taking the bridge. Rhys is completely unprepared, when Oscar does pull him up onto the back of his horse, but he holds on as tight as he can, as an arrow whizzes past them, a bandit making it far enough forward to attack him despite his largely protected position. Luckily, it's a move that leaves him open to Oscar in mere moments, and no one needs Rhys' skills too immediately until it's all over. It feels so sudden, after how long it had all seemed to stretch on when it was happening, and Rhys wonders if that's normal, or if he only needs to get used to the tide of battle. It's a shock, to have things feel so quiet and still again, and it's only the fact that his arms have gone rigid where they're locked around Oscar that keeps him from swooning right off the horse when he finally takes in the bodies of the bandits. The sniper suggests pushing the one off of the bridge and into the creek, perhaps kicking the rest after him even if their bodies lie further from the bank, but Titania wrinkles her nose at the suggestion. "We'll cover them. Even bandits deserve that much. Oscar, take Rhys back to the caravan. I'll call you forward in a moment, but let them know the danger's passed." She orders, and Rhys feels so detached from things that it's almost a surprise when he feels the horse move. Oscar passes her message to the caravan, before carefully prying Rhys' arms off and helping him down from the horse, following after. "You're looking a little green around the gills. Are you all right?" He asks, his smile kind-- if a bit cheery for someone fresh from a battle. Rhys decides to find it reassuring. "I-- I will be, thank you. It was my first time out there... and I've never seen-- I'll do better." "I'm sure you will." Oscar nods. "We both will." "Did you see much action, with the knights?" "Much? No. No, not much. But it was good training. Enough to prepare me for this. Well-- during my time, things were just so peaceful anyway. Little border skirmishes here and there, or bandits like these, that would be the worst of it, really. But-- never another real army, of course, so... About like this, at the worst. I'm sorry I almost let you get hit-- I didn't see him until he was so close. I'd thought there was no one who could get to you." "But you did see him in time. You really have nothing to apologize for." "It's the one thing the knights didn't prepare me for-- I never had to guard a priest before. I learned to go back to back with another knight, back before they put me on a horse, and how to guard a partner's weak side while he guarded yours, and... lots of things, but-- Like I said, we'll both do better." "Yes. Yes, of course we will." Rhys agrees. Oscar mounts his horse again, before Titania beckons them all forward, and the caravan resumes its slow, steady pace, crossing the bridge in peace. The bodies had been moved to the side of the road, covered with branches in lieu of a proper burial. Rhys supposes it's the best that could really be done, but he still feels a little sick, just seeing their feet all lined up. A part of him wishes he could have saved them, even though they were the enemy. They hadn't been evil men, necessarily, only desperate ones... Perhaps it would be easier to think of them as evil, and to say it couldn't be helped, but if they'd just surrendered before it was too late, he might have healed them. Desperate and stubborn, then. But not all jobs will be that way, nor all bandits. And even if there was nothing he could do for his enemies, he'd healed his friends, and looking around at them, at Titania and at Oscar, and even at Alberich, with whom he'd never shared the battlefield, Rhys could begin to understand that special bond.

Summary: What if Robin/Avatar had woken up in a different timeline? What if he had woken up in the dire future of despair that the children came from? Could destiny be changed once again or would he fail this time? -Feel free to review by PMing me :) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Prologue: Premonition ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "This is it! Our final battle," he told her determined. "You seem anxious. I've never seen you like this," She responded to him surprised. It was true. They had been through a lot together, and in that time he never expressed any sign of nervousness. He was always calm, smooth, collective, and ready for battle. This time he looked different, as if something was troubling him. "It's because everything has led up to this moment. Everything we've done, all our hard work, and our struggles. They are what got us right here, right now," Robin said with a serious tone. "I can't afford any more losses. Much like I can't stand losing you." She smiled. "We've faced so many things together, so I think you should know by now that I can watch my back. Right?" "Yes, I know. It's just that, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you tonight." He looked straight in her beautiful eyes. In those two pools he saw his own reflection, and the best out of himself. "Neither would I, if anything happened to you. Do you remember the plan?" She asked him seriously. "Of course. I created it after all." "Right, and this is like the Valley. Risen had us surrounded, we were outnumbered and alone." She pointed to what she could see in front of them. It was getting dark, and there was no sun to light the way while Risen covered the land that expanded before them. They couldn't even see the grass beneath the zombie horde, only the dark gray sky and the burned trees were visible. "No, the Valley differs from now." "How's that? I see no difference," she asked him curious. "Ehmm… because of this." He pressed towards her, and she couldn't help but feel the adrenaline of her heart when he put his lips on hers. She felt so protected and joyful, because she had someone right by her side. Someone she knew that had stolen her heart and would do anything for her to smile. Her blood flowed rapidly in her cheeks, making them as red as ever. He put his hands around her waist and she put hers around his neck, pulling him closer. "We should focus on our mission, we're about to start the battle. Did you forget that?" She told him in a slightly bossy tone while pushing him away, but she was unable to hide her excitement and her rosy cheeks. "I did." He replied with a broad smile, like she hadn't yelled at him. "Although, when this is over, I have prepared a small surprise for you." She nodded and asked, "Really? Then, shall we go ahead so I can see it later?" "Yes. Tell the others to guide our forces towards the enemy. We must focus on entering the castle. It's your job to tell us how to get in, and with our new weaponry, we have a chance of winning." "I know. Tonight, we will write a new future for Ylisse." "Together." He told her confidently and held her hand. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------And so the battle began. The zombie fighters rushed at them with a vicious aura. They couldn't listen or feel. They could only see their enemy in front of their eyes. That was their mission, to kill with no remorse of their actions. That was why the fell dragon was so powerful. Although he had great power himself, his army was the one that terrorised the countless cities it found in its path. Did that mean they were better than humans? Of course not. Although their enhanced battle abilities and skills were something to notice, they lacked human's skills like improvising, insight and the two most important ones, compassion and supportiveness for each other. Those skills, unheard to Risen, made the remains of humanity gather and forge a team with one goal in mind, the fall of the fell dragon, once and for all. In this battle, that dream was about to become real after all those years of pain and slaughter. It was the time for the sun to rise, and for the long period of peace to begin. The man, followed by his beloved one, found a path that guided them and their selected forces inside Ylisstol's castle. The building was the key for them to open the door to a bright new world. At least, that was what they thought as he looked around the room. They had just gotten in, but he told them to stay alert for anything. "What is it? You looked troubled," she asked him worried. "I don't know. This is way too easy. It was never that easy," Robin responded concerned. Right then, they heard a huge noise from outside. The man quickly turned around to see what was going on. Unfortunately, in that moment their forces were surrounded by Risen. He couldn't understand what was going on, but before he could even think, he was knocked out from behind. The last thing he remembered before closing his eyes was his beloved one and the feeling of extreme disappointment. He had failed her, something he swore never to do. He awoke disoriented and confused when he slowly opened his eyes. He tried looking around to get his bearings and unconsciously moved his hand only to find that it was tied tight to a metallic chair. With a quick look around the room, he saw nothing but a dim light from a candle nearby. At once, he tried to think of ways to get out of this condition. Alas, the metallic chair was bolted to the ground so he couldn't break it. His hands and legs were also tied with a plastic-like cord making it impossible to move. Not to mention that he seemed very weak. Unable to find an idea to escape, he waited there looking towards the candle's light, and smelling its wax scent. All he could do now was worry about his friends and his love, about their failure, and about the person who betrayed them. Suddenly, he heard noises of footsteps. Then, the sound of a door cringing open. Before he knew it, a man appeared before him, holding another candle and a knife. "Thank goodness! Hurry! Cut the ropes and let's save our men! Hope isn't lost yet!" The man in front of him laughed sarcastically. "Your plan failed tactician. We've been holding you here for a while now. The battle was lost before it started, and there is nothing you can do anymore." "What?… We? It was YOU! You hit me from behind! You… Traitor! How could you? We trusted you! I trusted you!" He tried to move in a fury but he couldn't. "I am definitely going to enjoy this. You are alive because I ordered them not to kill you. You know, for old times' sake, but I came here with a deal. You will tell us where you are keeping it. You kept that secret for yourself and-" "Don't speak her name!" He cried furiously as his face reddened in anger. Robin moved his body with rage to escape, only to be stopped a third time by his ties. "Haha! I won't. I was so close, but so far away. You lied about its place. It wasn't where I thought it was. Tell me where the real one is and I will grant you a place right next to lord Grima." "I prefer to die before I help you! Snake!" He spat at his face using the only way to attack he could think of. However, the man wiped it away from his eye and continued like nothing had happened. "Don't worry I am not in hurry. I have all the time I need. I finally defeated you! Could I ask for more?" "Arrrgggghhh!" It was a female scream. One he recognised immediately. "NO! What are you doing to her? You crazy psychopath! Tell me, damn it!" "You will tell me where you hid it! Or she will die. I will slaughter her in front of you, but if you comply then I will let you keep her head! Haha!" The man laughed evilly. "Now, tell me where you hid it!" Robin was lost in thought. He had no other choice but to comply. "Tell me Sir Robin. How did everything begin? Tell me everything you know or she will suffer." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fire Emblem: The Man That Never Was Prologue-Premonition ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A/N (Author's Note): Hello everybody :) This story was created to become something completely new, based on the characters we all love (from Awakening) and maybe answer in some interesting questions, like "Can Robin change the fate of a doomed world?, Can love be found in such place?" Well... I believe there is only one way to find out :P This prologue is a bit shorter on purpose to smoothly proceed into the main story. Please don't mind any grammatical errors. No copyright intended. Until next time! Please have yourselves a darn good one :D ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ J.D. King

Good day everyone. With the last thread closed down all of the main characters have their names set in stone. Moving on to the more important matters, I'm ready to get the two stories started. As I have discussed in private with a few others (Taka-kun, Luankachu, and Emperor Hardin) the two storiesthat I plan on writing are forms of adaptations of Fates proper, but to make sure that there is absolutely no confusion as to what I mean when I say two stories, this is what I mean: the first story that I will start working on is an adaptation of both Birthright's and Conquest's plots combined, and the second story that I will start working on (either simultaneously alongside the first story or after the first story is finished) is an adaptation of the Invisible Demon Kingdom's plot. DLC episodes will be considered much later given that almost none of it has been released yet (aside of the third path of course). And just like with Reawakening there will be some changes here and there to the original stories as to not make them strictly novelizations. To even start writing of course, I need a thorough understanding of Fates's original plot (as well as supports) so that I can make changes or make the unchanged original parts of the story easier to understand. As such, I will need someone who is good with understanding Japanese and can translate Fates fairly well. I myself will look for anything of Fates that's subbed and make comparisons between each sub. This will make the releases of each chapter somewhat long. Since I'll be working on the first story first (natch), I'll inform you of one crucial detail that applies to both stories but has a little more relevance in the first one: there are two Avatars. The male twin Avatar is named Yamato Kamui who was primarily raised in Byakuya (a.k.a. Hoshido by Nohrians) , and the female twin Avatar is named Corrin Plantagenet who was primarily raised in Nohr (a.k.a. An'ya by people from Byakuya). They will both be based on their appearances in official artwork and have their own personalities that act as contrasts to each other. Since I know how the Prologue/Chapter 0 goes, it shouldn't be very difficult to write it.

Okay before I post the link I need all of you to know straight off the bat; I am a terrible writer. Okay, now that you know that; Here is my novelization of Fire Emblem 7/Rekka no Ken/Fire Emblem in North America. I have the first nine chapters already posted, I am trying to deviate from the rigidity of the game while absolutely keeping to the core plot as well as taking a more medieval-realist approach to the FE world, something that I'm currently failing at. Anyway, have a look... Please? And judge me, seriously. I need it. (I have a beta starting for yet unreleased chapter ten so quality should go up!)

As I played through Awakening I thought that Emmeryn was the ideal pairing for the male Avatar...yet, I saw no fics for this pair! Thus, I have taken it upon myself to write one. Little scenes that chronicle their relationship through and after the game. Unfortunately I have precious little writing skill, so I do not believe I did it justice. While the story is logically complete, I feel as if there is more to be written about Robin and Emmeryn. Thus I plan to add additional chapters about their future - some from their perspective, some from other characters. This starts with the tragedy, but ends on a rather fluffy note. I challenge any readers who are interested in the pairing to write their own versions of the Avatar/Emmeryn story :-) As the Shepherds ran from the Plegian army, Robin quickly escaped to the front of the line. Just in time, too, as the first tears began to fall. Despair was not a feeling that Robin was familiar with. He had led the Shepherds through numerous battles over the past year and his tactical brilliance had always carried the day. Until now. Everything had gone so smoothly, up to the end. He was confidant that they would spirit the Exalt away from the invading army and back to the safety of Ragna Ferox. Then that witch had summoned those archers! He had never seen magic quite like that. Sure, some summoning magic existed - he even had the Shepherds use it to pull Maribelle and Ricken out of a particularly delicate situation some time ago. But the scale and speed that the Plegian tactician displayed should have been impossible. Robin's rescuing force of pegasus knights fell almost immediately, and Emmeryn sacrificed herself soon after. Sacrificed herself to save them, when it should have been the other way around. He failed. He should have suspected something! The Plegians had introduced much that seemed impossible, such as the dead rising to fight again. Dark magic was still not such a well-understood subject, which made it difficult to reason about on the battlefield. He should have had some fliers underneath the cliff as a contingency, he certainly had one or two to spare. He should have...should have... Robin couldn't stop the river of tears running down his face now. He had failed. His inspiration, the light of his brief life was dead. Chrom's sister was dead. The thought of Chrom gave him pause. While Robin and all the Shepherds faced grief, he knew that Chrom's would be the worst. They were family. Emmeryn was Chrom's sister and, practically, his mother. He had not held it together so well either: Robin had needed Basilio to pull Chrom away from scene. Robin knew it was a cruel thought but until Chrom could pull it together the prince would be useless as a leader and probably get himself killed should have to fight. With a monumental effort, Robin put a tight grip on his emotions. Dabbing at his face with a handkerchief, he glanced at a small pocket mirror. Acceptable. His eyes were still red, but he didn't look upset. While his mind remained a pit of grief and despair, his face betrayed nothing. If the Shepherds were going to make it out of this alive, they were going to need a leader they could believe in. As Chrom was clearly not up for the task right now, it was going to have to be Robin. He didn't think he was up for the task. Truth be told, he was shocked that the Shepherds continued to follow his orders at all after such a crushing failure. It probably hadn't quite registered with them yet, he figured. Well, as long as they would remain wiith him for one more day, then they could cast him to the wolves. He wasn't fit to lead a herd of goats, but it was necessary. It's what Emmeryn would have wanted. He took another glance at the mirror. His eyes were no longer red. He looked nothing like they had just run from a resounding defeat. Good. Three days later, the Shepherds had safely made it across the border to Ragna Ferox. The sun was setting and Robin sat in his tent, candles burning, preparing for the Shepherds' return and the final battle against the Mad King. His revenge, he supposed, though not his absolution. The wind rustled his papers as the flap opened. It was Chrom. Robin stood and the two men looked at each other for a moment, but it was Chrom that spoke first. He clearly had something on his mind to seek Robin out at this hour. "I just wanted to thank you again, for helping me through this." Chrom said. "We've been over this, Chrom. I share the blame for Emmeryn's death. Getting us out was me doing my job; there is nothing to thank." "No, that's not what I meant. When we were escaping...I was useless. You took it upon yourself to lead the Shepherds when I couldn't. Thank you for that." "Oh, right, that...that was nothing." Robin lied. "Don't worry about it." "It wasn't!" Chrom said. "I don't understand how...it was like you had a heart of iron." Robin winced. "Gods, this is coming out all wrong! I mean, what you did there, you took control...I couldn't. A leader can't falter like I did. How did you do it?" Robin sighed and rubbed his forehead. This wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to having, but he couldn't not help his best friend. "Emmeryn's death was...difficult for me too. She wasn't my sister, or even my Exalt I suppose, but she inspired me, in a way." Robin saw that Chrom was about to ask what he meant and quickly moved on before the man could get a word in edgewise. He was certainly not ready to talk about that right now. "Anyway, I wasn't doing much better than you were. I felt like a failure and I thought that the Shepherds were going to abandon me at any moment. I knew that even though I screwed up, I still had a responsibility to get everyone out safely. If everyone stopped listening to me then, we'd have never made it out alive. I couldn't give them a chance to question me, and that meant the iron facade. I was sure it wouldn't work very long, maybe a day at most before they started questioning why they were following me, but a day was all I needed. It was very hard, but I clamped down on my emotions and just...led. It's what Emmeryn would have wanted." "I suppose it was..." Chrom said wistfully. Then he processed the rest of Robin's words, and a surprised look came over his face. "You honestly thought we would abandon you?" "I had just suffered the largest failure of my career! Well, a short career I suppose, at least what I can remember...and anyway," Robin sighed, "I was suffering my own grief. The Shepherds are my friends! You're my best friend! I know, rationally, friends don't abandon each other, that the Shepherds still believed in me. But I was suffering too, even though I didn't show it. It was hard to think clearly." There was more to it, of course, but Robin wasn't about to get into how he felt about Chrom's sister with Chrom. Not now, anyway. Chrom made an unexpected move then. Walking over to where Robin stood and crushed the tactician in a bear hug. "We won't abandon each other," Chrom said, before letting go. "I know I can count on you for anything, and you can count on me for the same. While I've known Frederick for my whole life, somehow...you've become my staunchest ally, and my best friend. Thank you, Robin, for being there when we needed you." Robin smiled. "You're welcome, Chrom," he said sincerely. "And I'll always be here for you. There is one thing, though." "What's that?" "Don't take my advice on leadership. I did what was necessary to get us through, because that's how I work. But we follow you because of your passion. Never lose that passion." Chrom clapped him on the back. "Understood. Thanks, Robin." "You have to help me!" Chrom yelled as he burst through Robin's door. The tactician took one look at the frantic prince and burst out laughing. "Calm her down! Hey, it's not funny!" Chrom shouted before remembering that he was trying to hide and gingerly closed the door. "Aha...aha...ha..." Robin struggled to contain his laughter. "Just a...just a mom-...ahahaha." Chrom glared at him. "Come on! She can't be reasoned with! I don't know what to do!" "Ahahaha...oh Gods." Robin wiped his eyes, which were tearing up, and regained control of himself. "Sumia's eight months pregnant, Chrom. This is perfectly normal." "She attacked me with a frying pan! She shouted 'Chrom, I'm going to kill you for what you did to me!' That's not normal!" "Hormones, Chrom. She's eight months pregnant! She's going to have mood swings. I'm sure in another few minutes she'll be running in here, in tears wondering how you ever put up with her." "You think so?" Chrom asked. "Sure. Then, tonight, she'll...strangle you while you're sleeping!" "Gah! Not helping, Robin!" "Oh, calm down Chrom. Every couple goes through this when they're having children. Only this time, I get to have some fun at your expense." "Yeah. Fun." Chrom plopped into a chair by Robin's desk and ran his hand through his hair. He looked weary. "You look like you're having fun. Economic reports?" "The war's quick ending didn't hurt Ylisse's prosperity so much, but with the right controls and investments I think we could move into a real golden age. Anna's talk inspired me. Country economic plans aren't so different from battles, when you stop to think about it." "You truly are a genius, Robin. And thank you for looking after my kingdom. I don't know what I'd do without you...say! Anna, huh?" Chrom poked Robin in the ribs. "Everyone's been getting hitched after the war. When are we going to have to get to have some fun at your expense?" Robin groaned internally. This was still not a conversation he was ready to have. "Not Anna, no. We're more friends. Or rivals. Well, it's complicated. But not in that way." "Not Anna? Hmm...you never really showed an interest in anyone else. Say, you're not...you don't like, er, the other team, do you?" "What gave you that impression?" Robin laughed. "No, I'm straight as an arrow, you might say." "Well, I'm stumped then! Give me a clue here." "Alright, well..." Robin began. He was absolutely, most certainly, not ready for this. Chrom may have recovered after Emmeryn's death, but appearances aside, Robin had not. He still felt like he was back there in front of the cliff. Some nights he dreamed about it. He decided to start from the beginning, to give himself more time to think about his words. "For a while, I tried not to think about romance. When you found me in that field, I had no memories of my past life. I still don't, really. When I rediscovered attraction, I had to stop and think - what of my past life? Did I love anyone? Did I have a girlfriend, back wherever I was in my past life? A family? Was I married? I just didn't know." Chrom let out a breath. "I hadn't thought of it that way before. I guess I'm guilty, in a way. I've never even thought about your life before the Shepherds. Did you ever try to find out, somehow?" "I'm assuming now that I don't. I think my name is well enough known thanks to the war that someone would have come forward if that was true, if they were still alive. Big hero of the war, and all that. But there has been nothing. It doesn't matter anymore - I think of myself as a Shepherd, now. Whatever I was before, was someone else's life. I think I've made a fine life here, among you all." "That you have!" Chrom said. "But you're stalling now...you said 'rediscovered'. That means you do fancy someone! Well, out with it!" "Huh. So I did." Robin admitted. He had carelessly let that slip a little too soon. "I...I'm really not ready to talk about this yet. It's too raw for me." Chrom backed off instantly. "Did something happen? During the war? I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have pried." Still, his mind raced a bit. They hadn't lost any Shepherds, thanks to Robin's immense skill. Did he have his eyes on someone who was already committed? Robin was nothing if not perceptive, and he guessed the way his friend's thoughts headed. "It's not what you think. While I'm not ready to talk about it, I think...I think I can show you." Retrieving a key from his pocket, Robin unlocked a drawer at the bottom of his desk and pulled it open. He felt his eyes tear up again as he reached inside. He gently retrieved a box the size of a tome and placed it in Chrom's hands. Chrom stared at it. It was filled with papers. "Hiding this has brought me no comfort, but it is too painful to discuss." Robin said, standing up. "I'm going to go get some air. You can find me in the market, when you're done. If you still want to." With that, Robin left. Robin's last remark puzzled Chrom. If he still wanted to? What could he possibly mean by that? He glanced down at the box again. Whatever it was, it had Robin right upset. Chrom sat down on his friend's chair and looked at the papers. "Don't want to rip anything," he said to himself. He knew well his reputation for breaking things, and he certainly didn't want to accidentally destroy something that meant so much to his friend. So, very gently, he removed one of the pieces of paper and began to read. He was surprised by the name at the top. Emmeryn. It was in Robin's handwriting, too. It was a letter. There was nothing particularly telling about the letter. It must have been sent very early after Chrom had brought Robin back to the capital. It talked of Robin's concerns having no memories, worrying that he was some sort of enemy plant. He wrote about his concern of having no memories save those of war. Chrom felt himself give a minor chuckle; these were the exact concerns that Frederick had had himself! Chrom felt his heart grow heavy again as he read through their correspondence. The letters painted a vivid picture of how his sister and his best friend had grown close, bonding over the pressure of their respective stations. Emmeryn was lonely, had never known true happiness in her life, always served her people first and found the pressures of rule sometimes impossible to bear. Robin knew nothing save war, quite literally, and believed himself to be little more than an instrument of death. Emmeryn disagreed. In Robin, Emmeryn had found one who truly understood the stresses of rule. In Emmeryn, Robin had found that his life could hold meaning outside of war. Chrom had seen the results of the correspondence from the outside, he realized: Robin had slowly changed his opinion over the course of the Plegian campaign. Eventually at the end, he even agreed to stay on after the war as the new hierarch of Ylisse. Chrom's fingers brushed the bottom of the box, and he abruptly realized he held the last letter in his hand. It was from Robin to Emmeryn, before her kidnapping. He had asked her to marry him. He never received a response: soon, Emmeryn was kidnapped and sacrificed herself for the rest of them. Chrom sat back, stunned. It broke his heart to learn the depth of Robin's relationship with his sister. Not because he disapproved, far from it. What greater, more stalwart man could there be than Robin? Rather, it made him realize just how her death must have affected him. They had all been wounded, and Chrom felt some small measure of closure with Gangrel's death, but Robin had never moved on. Would never be able to move on. This last letter left him trapped in time. Chrom wondered if his friend had ever forgiven himself, or would be able to do so. How terribly it must have hurt for Robin, Chrom realized, to attend his wedding! A wedding that in any rightful world would have been Robin's own. Chrom gently returned the pile of letters to the box and placed it back in the drawer that Robin had opened. He needed to go find his friend, to tell him that he understood and that he was there for him. No, he thought, revising that first bit. His brother. Robin had always felt that way to him, over the last year. Had things turned out just a little differently, it would have been that way for real. He needed to find his brother and keep him from becoming lost to the world, like Chrom had almost been. His brother had saved him, now it was his time to do the same. Despite Chrom's best efforts, he had not been entirely able to prevent his friend and brother from slipping away into sadness. He had been fine, up until the war with Valm began. Now as each day passed Robin seemed to grow more distant. Was this what their first war would have been like, Chrom wondered, had Emmeryn not been there to temper Robin? The man had been no less successful in his battles this time around, but Chrom was worried. That had changed on one fateful day when the Shepherds were exploring some ruins, looking for a treasure blessed by Naga herself. Robin had come upon the enigmatic Morgan. It seemed impossible to Robin. His love had been taken away from him before he became a father. He supposed that, objectively, he might eventually fall in love again, but what gave Robin the first light of hope he felt in a long time was when Lucina did not recognize the girl. Morgan was not one of the children who had travelled back in time from the future. Lucina even confirmed that Robin had never married in her future. Morgan certainly recognized him, though! She was absolutely convinced that Robin was her father. It didn't take him or the others much convincing either: the enigmatic girl took after him almost completely, and her quirky nature soon won over the Shepherds. Robin knew he was being entirely irrational, but he took it as a sign that perhaps not all hope was lost for Emmeryn. While Morgan had disappointingly no memory of her mother, she had the same shining gold hair that Emmeryn had; a fact that seemed to escape the notice of everyone save Robin. It was with this sudden light in Robin's heart, then, that the Shepherds came across a village nestled by a mountain. Scarcely had the they made their appearance when a village Elder ran out to them. Chrom, Robin, and Frederick stepped ahead to greet him. "I can't believe you've come to our aid! Oh, gods be good! Thank you, sir!" The Elder said, out of breath. "We heard rumors of girls being snatched by the Grimleal for use in sacrificial rites." Frederick said. "Is this true?" "All true, I fear... Our own village has lost three already. Please, you must see that no more are allowed to suffer this cruel fate!" The Elder said. "The Grimleal have stolen their last victim. I swear it." Chrom said. "Do you know where the zealots gather?" Robin asked, already thinking of the next battle. The Elder thought for a moment. "One of the girls escaped and made her way here. Perhaps she can tell you more. She's a gentle sort, but a bit... Um... Well, why don't you come see her?" Chrom and Robin exchanged glances, wondering what the man meant by that. Frederick signaled the rest of the shepherds to follow, and they began to move into the village. "Ah, here she is." The Elder said. The three men stood in stunned silence. Lissa, who had been following behind them, moved up to join them. "Hey, why'd you guys stop? Oh my gosh! EMMERYN!" After the difficult Valmese campaign, the battle against the Grimleal that plagued the village had proven extremely easy. It was a joyous reunion, but at the same time a difficult one. Emmeryn's mind had been fractured by all that she had been through, and her memories had fled. Some moments she seemed her old self, while others she was almost catatonic. Chrom, Robin, and Lissa sat around the campfire, thinking about what it meant. Robin's sadness had been shattered. Emmeryn's appearance had reawakened his old self and he once more seemed happy and alive. Robin had taken it upon himself to take care of Emmeryn, calmly brushing aside any offered assistance in the past week. Sure, she was...different...but he didn't care. He was just happy to have her back at all. On the one hand, Chrom was happy for his brother. But on the other, he was worried. Emmeryn was no longer the same sister that had raised Lissa and himself, and not the same woman that Robin had fallen in love with. "You're wrong." Robin stated calmly as Chrom voiced those concerns. Lissa's mouth gaped open. She hadn't known about Robin and her sister; only Chrom was privy to that information. "Her memories may be gone and her mind in pieces, but she is the same person. Her nature, her grace, the way she cares and the way she loves everyone. That's what's important, and that she still has. Last week we thought her dead, and now she stands before us. Whether her mind is troubled or not, we have received nothing short of a true miracle. I've always been lucky in battle, but this...I've been granted the greatest boon to ever befall a man. I'll help her recover for as long as it takes. Until the end of my days, if necessary." Chrom smiled. "You're right. I should have never doubted you, or your intentions." Robin was right. Chrom knew that, at Emmeryn's core, she was the same sister that he and Lissa had grown up with. "And remember what I told you from before. There's not a man in the world I'd trust more with my sister than you, Robin. Here, wait a second..." Chrom dug through his pockets and pulled out a small box, which he pressed into Robin's hands. "Look familiar? I couldn't let this get lost." Robin did recognize it. "After the war..." he repeated to himself. "Yes, after the war." His musings were interrupted by a sudden weight tackling him and bowling him over. "Why didn't you tell us?!" Lissa shouted, no longer able to hold it in. Robin wasn't sure if it was from glee or fury. Probably both. "I didn't know you were in love with my sister! After all that wheedling and teasing about your love life, why did you never say anything?" "You aren't mad?" Robin asked, slowly bringing himself to his feet. "What? Of course not!" Lissa exclaimed. "This is wonderful!" "Well, it difficult for me, Lissa." Robin said. "I was afraid all I had left was a memory. Now the future seems brighter. Still..." Robin felt somber for a moment, and slipped the box into his pocket. "There is much to be done yet. We will celebrate later. After the war." "R...Robin?" Emmeryn's timid voice asked. Her mind pushed back against the fog that seemed to constantly seep in. Yes. This was Robin. And there was something she needed to know from him. "Your grace?" Robin looked up from his table filled with maps. He was so lost in concentration, planning the Shepherds' next move, that he hadn't heard her enter. He stood immediately. "Is everything alright? Do you need something? Can I help you with something?" "Robin...why?" Why was this man being so kind to her? There was something she couldn't remember, that she couldn't speak to him. She remembered things, now. Bits and pieces of a past life. Someone else's life. She had a brother and a sister. She was a ruler. The Exalt! That's what they called her, she remembered. Yes, that was it. The fog receded ever so slightly. But this man...what was he to her? Why was he always so kind to her? So many words to say, but to her frustration only a few could come out. "Why...so kind...to me? Robin?" "Your grace..." Robin began. How to answer? he wondered. How to explain that she was his light, his life, his everything, and that she had returned meaning to him with her presence? "I was once like you are now. No memories. No purpose. I only knew one thing, that of war. But you showed me then what life beyond war could mean. That there was a future, that that future was what I was fighting for and why I was here. You were, simply, everything to me. To have you back now means the world still has meaning, that there's still a future worth fighting for. That...oh, dear." Robin interrupted himself, concerned. Emmeryn had a strange look on her face. "I've said too much. I've just confused you, haven't I? I'm sorry, your grace. I shouldn't be so selfish." "No..." Emmeryn whispered. "You are...I am..." The fog blazed in her mind with the light of the sun. The blazing light was hope. That's who this man was. He was hope itself. The fog did not recede, but she knew that he would burn it all away with time. As she began to speak she felt the fog slip back, slowly but steadily. "You are...hope...to everyone. To me. I wander...through thick mists. Spirits call my name, but I cannot see them! I cannot find them. I am afraid. A brother, a sister...I can make out the images. Hazy. I cannot find them! You call my name, and I find you. You guide me through the fog. Your presence pushes it away. Stay with me! I am...better now, than I was. But not whole. Not yet. So...stay. You are my hope, my promise that I will be whole. I know that I will be. With you. You make me whole. You make me whole..." she repeated. Robin pulled Emmeryn into an embrace. He could not stop the tears from falling from his eyes. Was it sadness, from all that Emmeryn had suffered and continued to suffer? Or was it joy, from her confession to him and learning what he meant to her, and still meant to her? Perhaps both. "Your grace...my love...I will be with you always. Until the end of my days, and beyond." Reality had a sad way of interfering with the life's plans, Robin thought somberly. They stood on Grima's back and Robin had just defeated his doppleganger. Chrom bore heavy wounds from the battle but was being healed by Emmeryn herself, who had improved enough to remember who her brother and sister were. She reacted well to Robin's care, and got better and better with each passing day. "He is exposed! Finished it!" Lucina shouted from the background. Chrom, his wounds healed, stood up to do exactly that. I'm sorry, Emmeryn. Robin thought as he opened a wind tome with one hand and fingered the box in his pocket with the other. I know I made a promise to you and the others, but it is your example that I follow now. With that he began his spell. "Robin? What are you doing?!" Chrom shouted as the wind washed over him, blowing him and Emmeryn back into the rest of the Shepherds. "I'm sorry!" Robin replied. "But I will never let Grima be a threat to another soul again!" With that, Robin he drew the fell dragon's magic into himself and formed it into a crackling black spike. "For once, I'm glad you and I are the same, Grima. Now I can give my life to protect those I care for." "No! Robin!" Chrom shouted and ran forward, but it was too late. Robin drove the spike deep into Grima, who screamed as it pierced his spirit. The assembled Shepherds shuddered as they felt in their very souls. The scream seemed to awaken something deep within Emmeryn. "No!" she wailed, falling to her knees. "I remember it now, but moments too late! Why, Robin? Why?" "Because of my love for you." Emmeryn looked up and saw that Robin had wandered over to her and the rest of the Shepherds. He took her hand and pulled her up to him, into an embrace. "It pains me to no end to leave you, my love." Robin whispered sadly. "But I do it for the world. This creature shall never threaten another generation with the horrors we have seen." Emmeryn stood silently, weeping and holding on to Robin with all her strength. Robin held her tightly as wisps of mist slowly rose from his body. He seemed to almost be evaporating away. "Take care of her, Chrom." He said. "The world is in your hands now." "Don't say that, Robin!" Chrom said. "We'll find you again! Remember what Naga said! There is still hope." "Yes..." Robin said. He did not believe it so much, but he did not want to break their spirits as he left. "Keep me in your hearts, my friends. Your love for me and our bonds will bring me back if nothing else can." "You must come back, father!" Morgan said. "You haven't even had me yet!" "That is true." Robin smiled, hope once again creeping into his heart. Maybe he could believe, just a little. "Emmeryn, my love, I am sorry. I was truly blessed to hold your heart in life." As he said his final words, Robin's body dispersed entirely, leaving nothing but the rising mist which quickly dispersed into the wind. "I know..." Emmeryn whispered to the air. "I would not begrudge you your sacrifice." It was minutes later, after Naga had transported them off the fell dragon who had suffered the same fate, that Emmeryn sat on the green grass with her knees pulled to her chest, weeping. What was one woman's love compared to the fate of the world? she thought. But regardless of the truth, it still felt wrong. "Why have the gods made me remember, only to have what truly matters ripped away from me?" She whispered. "I know that he has done nothing more than I once have, but why now? Am I so cursed?" "No, sister!" Chrom exclaimed, pulling her towards him. "He will come back. I am sure of it." "Yeah!" Lissa agreed, joining Chrom on the other side of Emmeryn. "His love for you is stronger than any force in the world! It's the stuff of legends! He found you, despite everything! Now we'll find him!" "Your grace." Frederick said, kneeling in front of her. "I believe the same. Robin is too strong to simply disappear. It falls to us to look after the realm until he returns." The other Shepherds all spoke in turn, agreeing with Frederick in their own way. What started as a tiny ray of hope within the group soon became a blazing fire. "Alright." Emmeryn whispered, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face. She was not sure if it was true or not, but she had to believe them. She didn't think she could go on living again without Robin. Not after he had returned to her, only to be ripped away again so soon. "Then let us not rest until we find him again." "Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING." A familiar voice echoed through Robin's head. "What do you propose we do?" This was all so familiar... "I... I dunno..." Robin opened his eyes and rubbed them. Two hazy figures moved into his field of view. "I see you're awake now." One of them, masculine, said. "Hey there!" The female voice called. "There're better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." Wait a second...he remembered that voice. "Chrom!" Robin exclaimed. The man smiled and reached his hand down, which Robin eagerly grasped in his own and pulled himself to his feet. He noted with pleasure that his own hand no longer bore the brand of the fell dragon. "You remember us!" Lissa exclaimed eaglerly. "Of course! How could I forget my friends? Wait...is Emmeryn here? How long have I been out for? Is she okay?" Robin fired off, talking a mile a minute and becoming increasingly incoherent. "It's only been two days!" Chrom answered. "She's here!" Lissa butted in. "She's the one who made us come here! She didn't believe you'd leave. None of us did! She had us come to where we first found you." "Though she may be a bit cross with you." Chrom chimed in. "Well, cross in her own way." he hastily added. "She knows why you did it, but despair has hung heavy in her heart the past two days." Robin felt a weight in his pocket and tapped his hand over it. Amazingly, he found the small box with the ring, just where he left it. "Thank you. It was indeed our bonds and her love that brought me back. I don't know how, but...well, here I am. I vow to never leave again." The day could not have been more perfect. The wind breezed lazily through the trees of the orchard and the sun stood proudly high in the sky. A perfect day for a wedding. Immense numbers of Ylissean citizens had come to witness the ceremony between their beloved Exalt, miraculously returned from the dead, and the great hero of Ylisse. Despite his normal confidence and poise, Robin could not help feeling a bit nervous. "What's the matter?" Chrom asked, clapping Robin on the back. He stood in as Robin's best man. There could be no other choice, as far as Robin was concerned. "This is a joyous day." "They're all counting on me." Robin said, sweeping his hand to indicate the masses that had come out for the occasion. "Our war has ended, but after today a battle begins anew. We have to rebuild the world and bring peace and prosperity to all our people. It's a serious charge." "You sound just like Emmeryn!" Chrom said. "But listen. After today, you live for you. You have done enough for all of us for a lifetime. Several lifetimes. And," he said, holding his finger up to silence Robin's objection, "I have full faith in you to do just what you said. We all do. I've seen it myself over the past two years. My sister knows it. That's why she fell for you in the first place. You know, it's funny. I always considered you to be my brother, but now you will be for real!" "Thanks, Chrom." Robin smiled, and then turned to look down the other end of the orchard. The bride's procession had begun, and any hint of nervousness about the future that Robin felt immediately fled when he saw Emmeryn. While every bride surely looked a beauty on her wedding day, Robin knew that Emmeryn outshone them all. The white dress, her shining golden hair, the grace with which she moved...she looked scintillating. Ethereal. Some of the nearby Shepherds briefly shaded their eyes with their hands as if they stared into the sun before nonchalantly coughing as if nothing happened. So, it seemed, he wasn't the only one who thought so. As the ceremony moved forward, Robin became more and more certain of himself and his future. This is what he had fought for, suffered for, and even died for. As he placed the ring that he had purchased so long ago on Emmeryn's finger, he knew that the future would be radiant. Just like her. "I once hoped I wouldn't survive the war." Robin heard himself saying. "Then you returned, and it was like the light came back to my life. I was prepared to throw myself away to ensure a peaceful future, but it seems that fate has plans with me yet. I feel as though I'm living a dream. From this moment forward, I vow to never leave you again." Robin leaned down to kiss her for the first time as husband and wife and the orchard erupted in a chorus of cheers and claps. The future was bright indeed.

Hello. I made a fanfic set in Ylisse. And its post endgame. Check it out here. And put your feedback here. A brief summary... It's been nearly a year since Robin sacrificed himself to destroy Grima, but Grima's destruction didn't send the world into an era of peace. It merely replaced one terrible future with another. Ylisse is on the verge of a famine, Regna Ferox will soon fall under the control of a ruthless new khan, and Valm is still in shambles after Walhart's conquest. The Shepherds will split up during this intercontinental journey.