Archive of Our Own ^beta

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She wouldn’t shut up.

Grima hated it. Her vessel, her new body, wouldn’t stop trying to take back control. The mortal seemed to forget her place. So, Grima decided to do something she thought she would never do.

Her vessel, Raini, loved three things more than anything. Her children, who were still alive, and her husband, the deceased exalt.

Chrom.

Grima stood in front of the altar, where the blue-haired man’s body laid. The Risen didn't have much trouble finding the corpse or removing it from the tomb. Brushing her hand against its face, Grima felt pain in her heart. Raini truly loved him. Smirking, the fell dragon began infusing the corpse with her power.

What are you doing.

The voice in her head asked. She rolled her eyes. “Is it not clear? I’m bringing him back.”

What?!

The body began to stir. “I need a king and general. And you need to be kept in line. So now, if you keep resisting, I’ll make you kill him again, and again, and again!” No! Let him rest!

Too late.

The newly-resurrected Exalt sat up slowly, opening his eyes to show a crimson red replacing the blue color they once held. Grima smiled and placed a finger under his chin, lifting his head to look up at her. “Oh, this shall be fun~”

Grima woke up from her dream. The future where she ruled with her Risen King felt so far away, especially with that insolent princess traveling back with her to stop what was predestined to occur. The war with Valm was almost upon the realm, meaning that everything was moving ahead of plan.

Getting out of bed the vessel groaned. She hated this weak body of hers, but until she could fuse with her past self and the fell dragon was resurrected, Grima was stuck with it. Heading to the throne room, she overheard the whispers and ignored the stares she received. The mysterious woman who replaced Aversa as the kingdom’s tactician. Little did these worms know she was their god. The ignorant exalt and her past self would arrive any moment now. Entering the throne room she saw they had already arrived, speaking with Validar.

“We are recovering from a war, your highness. We can offer ships and help fund and supply the mission, but we cannot give military aid.” The Grimleal said, a slight smirk on his face. Grima looked at the bluenette, waiting for a response. The young exalt looked so much like her precious Risen King. Everything about him, from his smile to his voice, drew her in. Grima wasn’t sure if this was her pesky human emotions or what, but she needed him. Zoning out the entire conversation, she focused just on the Exalt.

How dare her vessel think she could have him.

How dare she think she could be happy while Grima’s beloved was so far in the future.

She wanted, no, needed him as hers.

When they finally departed, she turned to Validar.

“I want him.”

The high priest looked at her in confusion. “I want Chrom as mine. I’ll make him a Risen while he lives. I want him to struggle and scream in pain. To slowly accept this is fate, to rule by my side with some of his personality intact.” The fell god narrowed her eyes when he opened his mouth to protest. “I want him. Alive. Or else I will refuse to devour your soul.” She smirked as the color drained from his face, watched as he groveled and begged for forgiveness and promised to do everything in his power to drag the prince to her kicking and screaming.

Good.

Soon she would have everything she ever desired.

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Raini cast Thoron at a Risen before dodging the axe of another. She backed up, frowning as it approached her. She was exhausted and injured, wincing as she put pressure on her ankle. It was probably sprained from what the tactician could tell. Just as the Risen raised its axe to strike, a sword ran it through.

Chrom stood behind it, yanking Falchion from its body and watching the monster fall to the ground. “Are you alright?! We can’t afford to lose you, Raini.” He said, eyeing her ankle. Raini simply nodded. Her husband always did seem to appear at the right time. “I’m fine. Yourself?”

“I’ve been better.” Chrom replied with a small smile before striking down another Risen. “You know, love, you suck at lying.”

Raini huffed, turning and sending lightning from her fingers as more Risen rushed towards them. “ You worry too much.” The prince raised an eyebrow at her, eliciting an eyeroll from his wife. “I’ll get it looked at later. Just focus on the battle, alright?” With that she turned away, running to help Gaius. Chrom sighed, turning back to the battle at hand.

Taking a quick look across the battlefield, the exalt could see Lucina and Morgan. They were fighting side by side, essentially as one. Just like their parents. Chrom was so focused on his children that he didn’t notice a Risen sneak up from behind him until it was too late.

A pain came from the back of his head as he collapsed to the ground, the prince's vision starting to blur. Chrom tried to call out as the Risen began dragging him away, but was in too much pain to do so. The last thing he saw before losing conciousness was the expression of pure horror on Morgan's face.

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Morgan felt himself shaking as the Risen disappeared with his father. Chrom, the strongest person in his life other than his mother and older sister. His father, the Exalt, leader of the Shepards, had been kidnapped.

And he had done nothing.

His voice was caught in his throat, Morgan’s mouth open in a silent scream. Finally, his body unfroze and the tactician rushed towards where his father last stood. Falchion lay on the ground, the legendary weapon mocking him.

Morgan remembered when his father rushed back to camp after he and Lucina tested if he could wield the sword, exclaiming he had found a log cut perfectly in half and only the blade could do so. How happy he was to discover his son could also wield Falchion. How happy he was to finally, finally have something to share with his son.

The sound of his name being called dragged him back to the present. “Morgan? Morgan! There you are! What’s wrong-” The prince cut his mother off when he turned to look at her, tears streaming down his face.

“Mother…. They… they took Father!”

Raini’s face fell before she rushed over, looking at the sword on the ground before staring off in the direction of the retreating Risen.

“No… Chrom! CHROM!”

Grima looked at the unconscious man in the jail  cell in front of her. Chrom was chained to the opposite wall, his head drooping over his chest. His messy blue hair almost glowed in the shadows.

Soon.

Smirking, she unlocked the cell door and entered the cell.

His head throbbed. Chrom could feel the dried blood in his hair around the cut on his head. He also realized he couldn’t move his arms, before realizing they were chained above his head. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Chrom realized he was in a cell.

And that he wasn’t alone.

“Awake at last, my prince?” A familiar voice asked sarcastically. A voice he adored, a voice belonging to his beloved. “Raini…? Where are we? Are you alright?” Chrom asked, worried she had also been hurt and captured. Raini laughed coldly, before meeting his cerulean blues with rudy red eyes. “Ah, you’re correct and incorrect. While this body belonged to Raini, I am Grima.” His wife’s doppelganger replied, grinning at him. “What?! No… you’re lying!” He snapped, confusion filling him to the brim.

Grima let out yet another laugh, clearly relishing in his despair. “Oh dear prince, you’re lying to yourself. Your beloved wife is nothing but a vessel. She is nothing more, nothing less. Now, I’ll have someone come deal with your wounds in a bit.” She smirked and walked out of the cell, her smirk only growing as Chrom spewed insults at her.

Chapter Text

Grima never had a family. Her creator, the closest being to a parent, Forneus, had tried to kill her not long after her creation. The first humans she encountered after- the Saint-King Alm and Queen Celica- had attacked her upon seeing her. That damned Naga- a dragon, like herself- aided the First Exalt in sealing Grima away for a millennia. The Grimleal, while welcoming her into their lives, idolize her and treat her differently. Validar, the father of her vessel, bowed before her and simply did whatever she ordered to please her.

They didn't love her. Not the way she wanted. Nor could they. After all, she was their god, their hierophant. Grima did not want that necessarily.

Her vessel, Raini, had achieved being loved for who she was; she had met someone who loved her for her, not for her purpose. She had children. A family.

Something Grima always desired. 

It wasn’t fair that only her vessel got what Grima always wanted. Why did Raini get to be happy when all Grima got was hatred or blind loyalty? She got people who trusted her for her , not because of the power she held. 

Well for one I don’t kidnap those I care about.

The woman snarled at the voice of her vessel. Even after traveling through time, she still spoke to her. It was annoying, and yet another reminder of what Raini had or in this case didn’t have- an extra soul inhabiting her body.

It was my body first.

Grima scowled knowing she was right. The dragon never wished to be reawoken in the first place. Why couldn’t Alm have ended her all those centuries ago? Why didn’t the First Exalt drive his blessed sword into her heart?

Oh wait. 

He had.

But Forneus had children, meaning her blood still flowed amongst the living. The very same children who had followed her to Plegia when she was freed from Thabes, likely realizing she was their father’s creation. The same children- who ironically were her human siblings- became the founders of the Grimleal. From them, her vessel is descended from.

The same vessel who gained the love of the descendant of the one who sealed her away. Ironic, really. 

The Fell Dragon walked down the hallway, the smooth stone cold to the touch. The tapestries depicting how Grima saved the Grimleal and would return to protect them slowly disappeared as she approached the staircase leading to the dungeons. She patted her pocket, checking to make sure the small jar was there, and smiled.

In her other hand was the crown of the Plegian king.

It was time for an experiment.