Archive of Our Own

He wasn’t supposed to die like this… A heart attack, just one day after releasing the visual novel he worked on for years? His hard work was supposed to pay off… If his game had any effect on even one person’s life, it all would have been worth it.

But he would never get to find out.

“... Grima? Did I hurt you? Please say something!”

Grima opens his eyes to see a man on top of him. Blue hair… Blue eyes… A unique, swirling mark on his arm… Grima recognizes him at once.

It’s the Prince, the protagonist from the game “Heart Emblem ❤ Awakening,” which Grima had just finished making when he’d… died…

Oh, gods, he is dead. And his punishment is to live again as his own character. Perhaps it’s completely fitting. After all, he had created Grima as a sort of self-insert character… in a way.

But rather than being an unrealistically perfect version of himself, Grima is all the worst parts of him combined.

Grima’s purpose is to aid the Prince and provide him with information about the other characters. It’s just that, in the end… well, Grima turns out to be the villain, the fell dragon who wants nothing more than to destroy the whole world and especially the Prince.

There are no bad endings in this game… for the player. In every single ending, the fell dragon is slayed one way or another by the Prince and the chosen love interest. There’s no place in this world for a being so twisted with hatred and despair.

Grima, in his past life, wanted this part of himself to die, too. He was too bitter to ever trust anyone, which is why he had no friends. He made this game to cater to lonely people like him. And he hoped, perhaps, that he would be able to connect with the players as a creator, but… Clearly, dying screwed that plan up.

Now he is doomed to die again. He recognizes this scene as happening towards the beginning of the game. The Prince trips into Grima and they both fall to the floor. It cements Grima’s opinion of the Prince as a clumsy buffoon who has no business being in power at all.

“Grima? Can you hear me?” the Prince asks. “Do I need to send for Lissa?”

Lissa, the Prince’s younger sister and a supporting character. She is a healer.

“No,” Grima groans. “I’m fine, but… You have to get off of me.”

“Oh!” the Prince stands quickly. “I apologize! Here, let me help you up.”

Grima takes the offered hand. On the back of his own hand, the mark of the fell dragon flashes purple. The players never see his mark until the big reveal that he has been the villain all along, but he knows it is supposed to be there, and so he sees it plainly. It is the symbol of his ruin.

“Ha, I suppose Frederick may have had a point when he told me not to run in the halls as a child,” the Prince says. “Please forgive me. I do have a reputation around this place as being, er…”

“Excitable,” Grima says, echoing the script he knows by heart at this point. Except, wait, he’s not supposed to be smiling! Grima is meant to be suppressing fury…but how is he supposed to do that when he knows how sweet the Prince is now? How is he supposed to hate any of the people in Ylisse now that he knows everything about them? “You don’t need to ask for my forgiveness, Prince. You haven’t harmed me at all.”

“Thank goodness,” the Prince says. “And I’ve told you before that rank doesn’t matter to me. You can just call me Chrom.”

Chrom… Somehow, it suits him. Grima hadn’t given the Prince a default name, preferring instead to let the player choose on their own. He wonders if that means he’s actually in someone’s simulation right now. At least that would mean people were actually playing his game.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to get too familiar with each other,” Grima says. It’s his canon line, but it’s even truer now. His betrayal is going to shock and hurt the Prince. It will be so much worse if Chrom actually likes him. “Milord, my job is, in essence, to spy for you. Surely you know better than to get too close to someone like me.”

“Grima…” Chrom says, frowning. “I don’t think—”

“Milord! At last I’ve found you,” a man interrupts, turning around the corridor of the castle. It’s Frederick, the Prince’s devoted knight and potential love interest. There are several things the Prince could say here, all of which would affect his heart level with Frederick. But first…

“I’ll take my leave,” Grima says. “Send for me if you need something..”

He turns around to head towards his chambers. Chrom presumably stares after him. There is a constant distance between him and the Prince that only grows as the game progresses. Unlike the love interests, who gradually open up to the Prince, Grima never lets his guard down for even an instant. It is simply impossible to improve their relationship. Grima doesn’t even have a heart level.

“Wait!” Chrom calls. “I’m calling a meeting of the Shepherds tomorrow. You will attend, won’t you?”

Grima pauses. This isn’t in the script he wrote… But of course, Grima shows up to every meeting anyway. Perhaps the universe is now providing the filler he didn’t bother to write.

“I’ll be where you want me to be,” Grima says. “That is my job.”

He hurries off to his room, not wanting to speak any more to the man he will betray. And Grima must betray him. Now that he has the memories of his past life, averting the ending he had written would be easy. All he would have to do is disappear from Ylisse. But if he did that, the world would never know peace. The fell dragon has already made his revival known. If he simply disappears, the people will forever live in fear of the day he goes on the attack again. No, the only way they will ever break free of the fell dragon’s terrible shadow is if a hero steps up to kill him.

Who is he to deprive Chrom of his happy ending?

“Well, Grima? You know a lot about Regna Ferox,” Chrom says. “What do you think we should do?

This is the first strategy meeting of the game, the first time the Prince has the opportunity to gather information.

“The Feroxi people respect those who show strength in battle,” Grima says. “I’m sure they summoned you in the hopes of observing your prowess. They will refuse to aid you if you do not display the skills of a warrior.”

“So it’s a test…” Chrom murmurs.

“Exactly,” Grima agrees. “Anything else you want to ask about?”

“Hm…” Chrom pauses in thought.

Grima accidentally smiles… for the umpteenth time. He’s supposed to come across as cold, but he just can’t help breaking character. He designed the Prince to be endearing, so of course he’s now completely weak against all of Chrom’s charms.

“Will you come with me?” Chrom asks, turning his vibrant blue eyes against Grima. “I want you to be at my side.”

“Of course I’ll be there,” Grima murmurs.

“Thank you,” Chrom says, smiling beautifully.

Then he says something to Lissa, and suddenly Grima comes back to his senses. This isn’t what happens in the game at all! Grima is always found at the castle. The Prince can ask him freely for any information while at home, but once he heads out, it’s too late.

That being said, Grima can’t bring himself to complain. Staying at the castle would no doubt be incredibly boring without Chrom and the Shepherds there to entertain him. And at least this way, maybe Grima can be a little more useful to Chrom before…

Right. Grima should try to be helpful while he still has the chance.

The first of the game’s many missions requires the Prince and the Shepherds to cross the border into Regna Ferox, a nation stereotyped as valuing brawn over brains, though in fact their leaders are no fools. It is doubtful that the Fell Dragon would have been defeated without their assistance.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

There are a couple of ways this scene can play out, though the differences have no effect on the plot, just on which CG gets unlocked. One choice leads to Raimi, the Feroxi guard, placing her hand on the Prince’s shoulder as the Brand of the Exalt emits a faint glow. The other…

“I’ve heard quite enough! Attack!” Raimi cries.

… The sight of the Feroxi warriors raising their weapons is not quite so magnificent now that Grima has to witness it with his own eyes.

“I suppose this is the test you spoke of…” Chrom says with a grimace, falling back next to Grima. “But it isn’t ideal. Do you even know how to fight?”

“I do, actually,” Grima says. In his past life he was an ordinary 21st century human, but in this life Grima had learned many things long before he knew how fantastical they would seem to him now. “With swords and magic both. I have a tome hidden away in my robes right now, though it was habit more than anything that made me bring it.”

Chrom sighs.

“That’s fortunate,” he says. “Still, stay behind me as much as you can. It’s my fault you’re in this mess rather than safe at home, reading a book or something. I will protect you.”

“Er…”

The thing is, this is kind of an important mission. Being the first one of the game and all, it introduces the main mechanic for developing support with the romanceable characters: Pair Up. Each mission allows the player to select one character to join the Prince, and at the end of the mission, the two of them will have gained affection points with each other. Not only that, the player is also able to select a certain number of other characters to join the mission, and they can be matched together as well, earning them affection points. The Prince has to have a high enough affection level with a given character in order to choose to follow their route. But once the player has selected their desired route, the affection points of all the other characters come into play. Because in this game, the romanceable characters can form relationships with each other.

It was a bit of a risk, allowing characters to fall in love with someone other than the protagonist. True, the player always has first pick, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop people from becoming angry about their favorite characters marrying another. Grima has no way of knowing how players reacted to his choice, having died and all, but he doesn’t regret it. No one should have to be alone simply because a particular prince didn’t choose them.

But yes, the Pair Up system is absolutely integral to determining what path the Prince ultimately takes… So he probably shouldn’t be trying to pair up with Grima???

Before he can protest, Chrom suddenly pulls him closer, then swings his sword to parry the blow of a fighter that Grima hadn’t even realized was rushing towards him.

Well, that was almost a stupid mistake. How embarrassing. Grima actually has a lot more training than Chrom, not to mention thousands of years’ worth of knowledge (as the villain, he has to be extremely powerful; otherwise the final battle would be too anticlimactic, wouldn’t it?), so he certainly shouldn’t be getting injured in the tutorial mission… Of course, he shouldn’t be in the mission in the first place, so maybe he deserves to get hit.

Chrom, on the other hand, doesn’t deserve any of the trouble the plot is going to put him through. The least Grima can do is knock out the archer trying to shoot at him from a distance.

“Ha! You weren’t kidding about knowing how to fight!” Chrom turns to Grima with a grin. “Remind me not to get on your bad side!”

“Let’s just get this farce over with.” Grima can’t meet Chrom’s gaze. Even though he doesn’t hate Chrom, Chrom is going to have to be on his bad side in order to save the world…

It’s okay. Chrom will hate him as soon as he finds out he’s the fell dragon, anyway. There won’t be any problem.

In the end, it doesn’t take the Shepherds long to fight their way through the Feroxi forces. Having earned Raimi’s blessing, they are quickly escorted to the Feroxi capital. No one on either side is seriously injured, so Grima’s going to call it a flawless victory. It was even kind of fun. Exhilarating. In his old life, he didn’t get outside very much. Plus, in his old world, there was no such thing as magic to give him an outlet for his stress. If there had been, then maybe…

Well, it doesn’t really matter. That life is over. He should just enjoy his current one while it lasts.

“Frankly, that was a lot easier than talking it out would have been,” Chrom tells him. “If they were testing me on my eloquence, we might never have passed.”

“Oh, we definitely would have failed.” Grima chuckles.

“Hey... You didn’t have to agree THAT quickly,” Chrom says, folding his arms over his chest.

“But it would be so inappropriate for me to disagree with you in foreign territory, milord,” Grima says, his smile widening.

“As if either of us gives a damn about that.” Chrom rolls his eyes.

“Ha, a prince who doesn’t care for flattery!” Flavia’s sudden entrance startles Chrom, and Grima catches his arm without thinking. “Good, because you won’t be finding any of that here!”

In the game, a CG of a smiling Flavia would display right now. Both she and her counterpart Basilio are technically potential love interests, but they require certain conditions that Chrom honestly isn’t likely to meet, considering the way he’s frowning.

“You’re the khan, I presume?” Chrom asks. Then, skipping over several dialogue paths that would win him affection, he continues. “I take it you didn’t ask me here to discuss the weather. Is there something you need of me, rather than of the exalt?”

“I’m ONE of the khans, actually,” Flavia says. “And funny you should mention it…”

Grima doesn’t know how, but Chrom has apparently managed to miss meeting a potential love interest entirely.

Okay, actually, Grima does know how. In the game, Chrom sneaks out to train alone for the tournament Flavia recruited him into, and that’s when he meets Lon’qu, the man who happens to be Basilio’s champion. But Chrom isn’t sneaking off alone to train. Grima is sure he isn’t, because what he’s actually doing is sneaking off to Grima’s quarters to discuss strategy.

Grima can’t say he minds. If Chrom weren’t talking to him, nobody else would be. And the meetings are pretty productive. In his old life, he had been out of school for a few years, but when he was still a student, he had always thought that having a study partner would feel something like this… He likes it.

But it does mean that when Chrom and Lon’qu meet in the center of the arena, they are complete strangers to each other, There are no knowing nods or significant glances. And Grima can’t help but feel like he’s responsible for screwing up a possibly happy romance.

“Grima… You’ve got my back, right?” Chrom asks, again refusing to Pair Up with a proper partner.

Grima sighs.

“I still think you’d be better off with someone else…”

“That would sound more convincing if I hadn’t seen you send a Feroxi soldier running back in terror at the border,” Chrom says. “But more importantly… Grima, I trust you.”

Chrom trusts him… The absolute worst thing he could do.

“Chrom, I…” Grima lowers his eyes. “I swear I’ll do everything I can to keep you from getting hurt.”

He really means it. There’s no way he can protect Chrom from the inevitable betrayal, but he wants to cause Chrom the least pain possible.

“I know you will,” Chrom says, his eyes filled with warmth and kindness that Grima doesn’t deserve to drink up the way he does.

This isn’t Grima’s story. He has to remember that. So what if he’s been hit by the full brunt of Chrom’s charm? The Prince is unparalleled; there is a reason why almost all of the game’s characters fall in love with him. They’re all wonderful people who fight hard for the happy ending they get. And their happy ending is Grima’s destruction.

The truth is, Grima wants himself destroyed, too. All of his followers are miserable because of him. You have to be miserable to wish for the end of the world. Grima is miserable, too. He always has been. In his old life, he had no friends. Why would he have any? He only made everyone’s life worse. His mother died trying to take care of him. His father paid him ridiculous amounts of money to stay far away from him and avoid tarnishing his image as a businessman. He was a morose child and even worse as an adult. No one could stand to be around him; he could hardly bear it himself. He hated the way people lived happy lives all around him without doing a damn thing for him. But most of all, he envied them. Good people, all trying their best. Heroes fighting for something he had long given up on.

Grima shouldn’t have ever existed, in his old life or in this one. Perhaps especially in this one, where the fell dragon’s twisted history made him an abomination from the moment of his creation. Really, Chrom will be doing him a favor when he plunges his sword into Grima’s neck and ends it all.

That’s what Grima wants to happen. That’s why he wrote it that way in the first place. And if it doesn’t feel quite as satisfying now that he has to deal with it in person, well, there’s no one to blame but himself, and several times over at that.

He should be grateful that he’s gotten the chance to know Chrom at all.

When the Shepherds finally head back to Ylisstol, it is with two new members in tow. Lon’qu, though clearly not in any kind of love with Chrom yet, was impressed by the Shepherds and interested in continuing his training with them. Olivia, a dancer, actually got her proper meet-cute with Chrom when he accidentally walked in on her practicing… although Chrom spent most of the ensuing conversation asking Grima about how to incorporate dancing into battle, which wasn’t very romantic at all. Of course, Olivia was too shy to complain, but Grima still felt bad for stealing Chrom’s attention from her.

Grima can’t get too comfortable back at the castle, though. He knows the future in a way the others can’t, after all. Maribelle’s absence isn’t concerning to anyone but him, for they all expect her to return quickly. Lissa does miss her best friend, though, and Grima makes an effort to spend a little time with her, if only to silence his guilty mind, which knows exactly what kind of trouble Maribelle is getting into right now.

Sure, he doesn’t appreciate the sudden increase of frogs in his life, but he deserves a lot worse. Besides, Lissa is having so much fun that it’s contagious, and he ends up getting genuinely invested in their little prank war. Is this what it would have been like if he’d ever had a sister himself?

But after seeing her smile so widely, it’s all the more crushing when he sees it fall.

“Maribelle’s been kidnapped?” she exclaims.

“By Plegian brigands just across the border.” Chrom grits his teeth. “But don’t worry. I’m heading out right now. I’ll get her back safe.”

“I’m coming, too!” Lissa insists. Glancing to her side, she asks a damning question. “Grima, what about you?”

“I…” He makes the mistake of looking at Chrom, whose expression is practically pleading. “Oh, fine. I get twitchy sitting around doing nothing, so I might as well help.”

Chrom keeps Grima close both on the road and in battle. It’s exactly what Grima is coming to expect, but it continues to disturb him. Chrom is spending so much time with him that he can’t possibly be deepening his affection with the others that much. There is a general friendship ending for players who don’t want to follow any particular character’s route, but Chrom isn’t befriending everyone so much as he’s befriending no one.

The Shepherds recruit the sugar-loving thief Gaius and the eccentric dark mage Henry during the rescue mission, but Chrom doesn’t display any spark of interest in them, either. Nor does he seem particularly excited when Virion, the Duke of Rosanne, pays a visit to Ylisstol with his retainer Cherche. There’s still time for him to fall for Nowi or Gregor when they appear seeking help later on, and Libra and Tharja aren’t even available until right before the route selection, but Grima is still concerned.

“Chrom… Is there anyone special to you?” he gets up the nerve to ask one night. If there is, maybe Grima can arrange things to help. After all, the only reason Chrom isn’t bonding properly with the others is because he keeps picking Grima as his free time companion. Grima could make himself busy, find an excuse to make Chrom deliver something to his love interest, or maybe…

“Well, my sisters—”

“Not like that!” Grima says quickly. So maybe Chrom is just dense. Grima can work with that. “I meant… Is there someone you think about often? Someone you feel drawn to? Someone you want to talk with more often?”

“Oh…” Chrom chuckles. “You.”

“Wha—? No!” Grima groans. “Not ME. I’m trying to figure out if there’s anyone you want to be your lover!”

Chrom chokes mid-laugh.

“L-Lover?” His face reddens. “Er, I… I never thought of it like that…”

“Oh, I see…” Grima sighs. Well, maybe now that he’s mentioned it, Chrom will start considering the matter. “I only ask because there are so many people here who hold you in high esteem. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with one of them. Whoever it happens to be, I’ll support you. I… just don’t want you to ever end up lonely.”

Chrom’s still-flushed face twists into a grimace. Grima’s heart twists, too.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says quickly. “If it bothers you that much, you can just forget I said anything.”

Surely he’ll still get the friendship ending by default, right? Grima didn’t write any bad endings into this game! Everything has to be fine! He just wants Chrom to stop looking like he’s in pain!

“I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING,” Chrom shouts, abruptly standing up. “I HAVE TO, UH, FEED THE HORSES.”

“Huh?” It’s 11:00 p.m. Also, Chrom is not in charge of feeding the horses.

“SEEYOULATERGRIMABYE” Chrom spits out before bolting out of the room.

“Chrom, why are you like this…” Grima sighs and tries very hard not to think about how much fun he had writing Chrom being exactly like this with his love interests. It was so cute when he wasn’t on the receiving end of it…

Okay, so maybe it’s still a little cute.

But more importantly, it means that Chrom is probably seriously thinking about romance now. Maybe Grima can finally stop worrying about him.

It’s been three weeks since Chrom has spent any free time with Grima.

This has got to be a good thing. Probably. If Chrom isn’t wasting his time with Grima, surely he’s off developing his affection levels with other characters. Of course, Grima hasn’t really seen Chrom even in passing, so he hasn’t had a chance to ask about the matter. And all of the other Shepherds deny spending any more time with him than usual…

Grima tells himself to stop worrying. Even though it’s extremely worrying when he walks in on Chrom whispering into Libra’s ear (a good sign!) only for him to catch sight of Grima and flee the scene at once.

“Oh, my,” Libra shakes his head. “I didn’t believe it was this bad.”

And now Grima’s worried that Chrom has come down with some kind of illness. Wait, that’s not a plot point, is it? No, no, he had scrapped that idea because the CGs for it were no good.

Right, so to sum it up, Grima has no idea what’s going on with Chrom, it still doesn’t look like Chrom has made any close friendships, and the ball event that will lock him onto a route is tomorrow!

Wait, shit, the ball is tomorrow!

As if on cue, he’s suddenly doubling over with a headache.

“My… Lord…”

A flickering image of Validar, the King of Plegia and Grima’s faithful servant, appears in front of him in the void that has enveloped his surroundings.

“Ugh... “ Damn it, why did Grima let Validar contact him like this? Oh, right, he needed a convenient way to communicate privately. Still, he hadn’t realized it was going to suck this much. “Yes? What is it?”

The image stabilizes, and Validar bows.

“My Lord, our plans are finally coming to fruition,” he says. “My soldiers have already infiltrated Ylisstol disguised as guests attending the Exalt’s grand ball.”

Minus one deserter (Tharja, who slipped away before she ever learned what exactly the task was), but yes, Grima knows the plan.

“Once everyone has had a few drinks, had a few dances, gotten comfortable—let their guard down—we will make our move,” Validar continues. “We will slay the Exalt and her family, take their Emblem for our own, and then, at last… Nothing will stand in your way, my Lord.”

Grima smiles thinly. That’s not how it’s going to go at all. Chrom’s going to quickly move in front of Emmeryn and save her life. The Shepherds will take down the Plegian assassins and keep them from stealing the royal treasure. The botched plot will alert them to the fact that Plegia has already fallen into the fell dragon’s hands, and that will set them on the path to defeating Grima once and for all.

“Everything is happening as fate has written,” Grima says. Maybe it’s a bit much to refer to himself as “fate,” but hey, he’s a literal god in this world. Hubris comes with the job.

“Indeed.” It’s strange to see Validar look happy. Grima certainly never made any portraits of him wearing that expression. Granted, by the time the player would meet Validar, all his plans would have already gone awry. Of course he wouldn’t smile.

“If that’s all, you can go,” Grima says, the silence between them starting to grow awkward. He didn’t think about the fact that Validar would be waiting for his permission. In his old life, he didn’t have any power at all. Here, he has so much power that people worship him. But because his memories of being a twenty-first century man have apparently trumped every other thought in his brain, the experience of godhood is… uncomfortable.

Well, he supposes it had always been a little uncomfortable, keeping the company of cowards who only bowed to him because he had proven he could break their necks on a whim. But he hadn’t bothered himself with thoughts like that in a long time. No one had ever truly cared for him, and he knew that. No, it was a lot more entertaining to watch the hypocrites dance for him, their fear the only thing stronger than their hatred, his power the only thing keeping them from getting rid of him.

… Actually, it wasn’t that entertaining at all. Video games are objectively more fun. Fictional characters don’t care for you either, but at least when you take your frustrations out on them, they aren’t capable of physically coming after you with dragon-slaying weapons that seal your soul away in the void for a thousand years.

Okay, so maybe Grima is still a little upset about that. It seemed like a great backstory when he wrote it. But having actually experienced it, he’s just left with a hollow ache he doubts will ever go away. The pain he’s felt in this life, the pain he’s felt in his old one… There really isn’t that much difference.

The circumstances aren’t the same, but misery still feels like misery.

It’s the morning of the day of the ball, the day Chrom will choose his fate, and Grima is stressed out. Not about the assassination plot, which he knows will fail, but about his own role in the whole thing. In the game, Grima was nowhere near the ballroom when the assassination attempt ocurred. But now, he’s wondering if he ought to show up, just in case…

Ultimately though, he isn’t given much of a choice.

He’s awkwardly trying on different outfits (he has to have something appropriate in his wardrobe, right?) when he’s interrupted by a knock on his door.

He doesn’t think too much of it. This early in the morning, it’s probably some servant checking in on him. They usually leave him alone, but sometimes new hires aren’t given the memo that he isn’t to be disturbed.

So when he opens the door, he’s shocked to see Chrom. Chrom is also apparently shocked to see him, or at least shocked to see him dressed like a fool, because his jaw drops open.

“Is… Is that what you’re wearing to the ball tonight?” he asks, wide-eyed.

Grima groans.

“Is it that bad?” he asks. “I… might not go after all. I’m not really needed…”

“No, no!” Chrom exclaims. “You look good! You should wear that! You should go! Actually, er…”

Chrom flushes as he trails off.

“Chrom, are you okay?” Grima asks. “You’ve been acting strange lately. It’s none of my business, but… Despite myself, I keep worrying about you.”

“No!” Chrom exclaims. “No, I mean, yes, I’m okay. No need to worry! I’ve just been, er, thinking a lot.”

“I didn’t realize it was THAT painful for you,” Grima says drily.

Chrom laughs abnormally loudly.

“Yes, well, you know how I am!” he says. “Just a dumb prince being ridiculous again!”

“Really?” Grima levels him an incredulous look. “But you’re not just a dumb prince. You’ve never acted quite like this before… This is the first opportunity I’ve had to ask you what’s wrong, but… Are… Are you hiding something from me on purpose?”

He doesn’t know why the thought pains him. It would be better for everyone if Chrom would leave him alone from now on. Grima definitely shouldn’t be the keeper of Chrom’s secrets. He isn’t trustworthy, so why does it hurt to be distrusted?

“D-Don’t look at me like that…” Chrom grimaces. “I really did have to think. You started talking about… love. Of all things! I didn’t mean to avoid you for so long, but… I, er, suppose I can answer your question from before now. Yes, there is someone special to me. Someone I want to be my lover.”

“O-Oh!” Grima lets out a startled laugh. “That’s… great. Are you taking them to the ball?”

“I haven’t asked yet,” Chrom says.

“Chrom!” Grima facepalms. “It’s literally today! What if they already have a date?”

“You don’t,” Chrom says.

“My lack of a social life is beside the point,” Grima says. “You had better go ask right now!”

“Right…” Chrom clears his throat. “Grima… Will you go to the ball with me?”

… What?

Go?

To?

The?

Ball?

With?

Chrom?

Did Grima mishear something?

He isn’t a love interest!

“Please…” Chrom continues, stepping closer. Grima could embrace him if he just reached out, and oh, how he wants to. “Grima, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. You’re smart, and you’re hardworking, and you understand me. I would do anything to make you happy. Just give me one chance to show you that we belong together. One night. Tonight. And if you never want to do it again afterwards, I swear I’ll leave you be.”

“Chrom, I…” Grima closes his eyes. Does he like Chrom? It would be impossible not to! Does he love Chrom? Well… His feelings go far deeper than whatever general fondness he might have felt for the Prince as a character. Spending time with Chrom is so easy, so natural. Chrom’s mere presence is a balm for his lonely soul. Of course it’s love. It’s everything Grima ever dreamed of.

But he is still the fell dragon. He still has to betray Chrom. Chrom still has to kill him. Knowing this, how can he accept Chrom’s feelings? How can he say he loves him back?

But…

“I guess, for just one night…” he says, “I could see what it’s like.”

Chrom clasps Grima’s hands in his, and Grima’s eyes fly open to meet deep blue. It would probably make a good CG, if only Grima actually were a love interest and not the villain.

“Thank you.” Chrom looks so genuinely happy that Grima could almost cry at how unfair it is. “You won’t regret it.”

Of course Grima won’t regret it. Chrom is the one who should be worried about regrets!

But no, surely Grima is thinking too much of himself here. This thing they’re having right now, whatever it is… It really will last only one night. And not even the whole night. As soon as Ylisse is attacked, Chrom will shift his focus to bringing down the fell dragon, and any feelings he has for Grima will have to be set aside.

In the game, the Prince changes his strategy depending on what route the player is following. Grima doesn’t know what that means for Chrom, but if things follow the friendship route as seems most likely, there will be several information-gathering missions followed by a march to the Plegian capital at the invitation of the fell dragon himself. Chrom won’t have time to mourn a relationship that never properly formed, and once Grima reveals himself, he’ll be happy it never progressed. He will surely be upset; anyone in the world would be! But he won’t be devastated. To be devastated would imply that he actually cared about Grima on some deeper level… But Grima can’t believe that would ever happen, even if he weren’t currently plotting their final battle. Anyone who knew his heart would hate him. Anyone who didn’t know his heart couldn’t truly love him.

So… He shouldn’t worry about Chrom. The Prince's destiny is to be happy.

Happier even than he is now, still enveloping Grima’s hands in the warmth of his own.

“Well, well, well…Never thought I’d see you looking fancy,” greets Gaius, who is sure one to talk. He’s only at the ball for the desserts, after all, and he’s only dressed in noble attire because Maribelle nearly killed him when she heard he wasn’t planning to “properly” attend. “Let me guess, you’re looking for Blue?”

“Yes…” Grima says warily. Gaius has a good heart, but it’s always good to be wary around him. Not because he’s a criminal or anything, although Grima knows he’s sensitive about some of his secrets. It’s just… He always has a glint in his eye like he’s looking for the right opening to strike.

“So are you looking for him because you’re always looking for him?” Gaius asks damningly. Grima does other things besides looking for Chrom! They’re just… usually things that have to be done secretly, like making maps of the castle for the Grimleal. “Or did he finally get up the nerve to confess his undying love for you?”

“Uh…” Grima flushes, unsure what to say. The bit about undying love is obviously a joke, but it still makes him feel…

“Because if you don’t have a date, I—”

“Gaius, funny seeing you here,” Chrom says, suddenly appearing behind Gaius from seemingly out of nowhere. “I was just thinking to myself that it was such a shame I accidentally got too much pie. I can’t very well carry it with me to the dancefloor, so I suppose it will have to go to waste… Unless you happen to want it, of course.”

“Pie?” It’s obviously a distraction, but Gaius looks interested nevertheless. He narrows his eyes. “What kind?”

Ah, yes, Grima had almost forgotten about the “meat pie” incident. Watching Gaius spit the offending dish out right into Frederick’s face was the highlight of that whole week.

“Apple,” Chrom says. “And it’s very sweet, too. They must have added sugar to the—”

“Say no more,” Gaius interrupts. “You've won me over. Sorry, Bubbles, but I’m a weak man.”

“... Right,” Grima says to thin air, Gaius having already made a break for the promised pastries.

Chrom chuckles at Grima’s expression.

“I’m lucky he loves sweets so much,” he says. “If anyone else had caught your attention, they wouldn’t have let it go so easily.”

“I came as YOUR date,” Grima says. He still feels a little flustered from Gaius’s remarks. “They would have had to let us dance eventually.”

“Ah, but I couldn’t bear to waste a second of our time together,” Chrom says. “Here… Give me your hand.”

“I’m not sure how good of a dancer I am,” Grima says, but he gives Chrom his hand anyway. “I AM a noble, but…”

But he also wasn’t very coordinated in his old life, and he’s worried awkwardness might win out tonight.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Chrom says. “No one has ever accused me of being particularly graceful. Just getting to spend time with you makes this ball perfect.”

Grima is silent with guilt. The ball is about to become very imperfect. He can’t recognize the assassins among the crowd, but he knows they’re there. It is still too early for them to act, but soon, this party is going to be in chaos.

The worst part is that despite the circumstances, Grima still almost loses himself to the flow of the music. Dancing with Chrom really is better than anything he could have hoped for. His heavy heart wants so badly to soar, to forget everything but Chrom’s name, to just be free.

And then a noble screams, and glass shatters, and Grima is brought back to the bleak reality of his own creation.

“Death to the Exalt!” one of the assassins shouts like an idiot. Nothing like clarifying your objective in the middle of your mayhem to alert your enemies to what’s going on, huh?

Of course, this is a good thing for Chrom, who now has time to…

Wait.

Chrom is not meant to be this far away from Emmeryn.

In the game, the Prince and his date (if he even chooses one) don’t spend that much time dancing, only long enough to unlock a CG. After that, they go to speak with Emmeryn, so the Prince is right next to her when the attack begins, and therefore he doesn’t have to move far to defend her.

But now…

“Emm… Where is she?” Chrom asks, turning to Grima in panic.

“I don’t…” Grima begins, but he’s about to say something untruthful. He does know where she is, doesn’t he? Because he knows exactly where the Prince is supposed to be.

Grima rushes forward. He doesn’t have much time to think, but he knows that if anything happens to Emmeryn, it can only be his fault. He doesn’t want her to die! He very much did in the past, because his plan to destroy the world seemed like the best idea he’d ever had, but the memories of his old life make it so clear… The only one who should be suffering is Grima himself…

“Wait!” Chrom shouts.

The assassin’s dagger hits Grima in the side. It’s poisoned, he knows, but it doesn’t matter. Mortal poison literally cannot kill him. Chrom wields the only weapon that can, but he doesn’t know it yet.

“Change of plans,” Grima growls through gritted teeth, pulling out a tome from beneath his jacket. “You’ll be the one dying today, not her.”

By this point, everyone’s had time to draw their weapons, and the room has turned into a battlefield. So Grima doesn’t mind lighting it up a little.

Electricity crackles around him. The assassin falls to the magic, even as Grima feels himself sway from the poison.

“It’s a ballroom blitz,” he manages to slur before unconsciousness claims him.

“Ah… You’re awake.”

The first thing Grima sees upon coming to is Emmeryn. She is holding a staff over him, which makes sense considering her background as a healer. In fact, in terms of raw ability, she’s probably the best healer in Ylisstol.

“How do you feel?” she asks gently.

“Like every muscle in my body is sore,” he says. “Only not limited to my muscles.”

Teeth can’t cramp, but that’s not stopping his from trying to.

“I’m sorry, but the feeling will probably linger for a while,” Emmeryn says. “There was a substance on that dagger that was meant to kill you… Or rather, to kill me.”

“I know…” Grima says. “Um…”

“Thank you,” Emmeryn says. “You put yourself in harm’s way to save me. I owe you my life.”

“No, I only…” Grima grimaces. He only fixed the mess he started. But he can’t explain himself. He sighs. “I don’t want you to get hurt. These people who want you dead… They have the wrong idea about you, but they’re never going to change their minds.”

Even if Grima himself decided to call the whole thing off, he doubts it would stop the violence. He’s been stoking the flames of human conflict for a long time now, but he didn’t create the spark, nor is it dependent on him. If he walked away now, it would continue to burn on.

“You know who was behind it, then?” Emmeryn asks. “We know it was Plegia, for Tharja recognized some of them. But as for what they want…”

“I’m… aware of the group,” Grima says. “They worship the fell dragon. You may recall how there were rumors, about twenty years ago, that their god had returned. Nothing seemed to come of it, and most people assumed it to be a hoax, but…”

“Do you believe that the fell dragon truly does walk among us again?” Emmeryn asks.

“You should consider the possibility,” Grima says. If she takes the threat seriously now, perhaps the shock will not be as terrible later.

“I see…” Emmeryn looks down. “I am not sure that Ylisse is prepared for the fell dragon’s followers to be our enemies. I will have much to discuss with my brother.”

Grima’s gaze shifts upward involuntarily at her words, as though he expects to see Chrom walk in. He feels like an idiot, even more so when Emmeryn smiles at him.

“I will give the two of you time to talk first,” she says. “I must admit, I have never seen him as distraught as he was when he thought you would not make it.”

It would have been a lot worse if it had been Emmeryn in his place, Grima knows. He did the right thing, even if Chrom didn’t like it.

“Chrom cannot help but give his heart to everyone that he meets,” Emmeryn continues. “But so few think to treat it gently. Someday I fear it will shatter beyond what Lissa and I can repair.”

Grima’s stomach churns.

“His heart is strong,” he says. “It’s the strongest thing about him.”

It’s what draws people to him. He is royalty, but not spoiled, not fickle. He holds the people of Ylisse close. Only his family is held closer.

“You understand its value,” Emmeryn says. “I know that, as does he. He treasures the bond between the two of you… I hope you understand that, as well.”

“I do,” Grima says. It’s just that the bond isn’t supposed to exist. No one in the world could possibly understand how painful this is for him. Chrom getting attached to him was a mistake. A glitch in the universe. Grima wrote his game to have as little angst as a game featuring an assassination scheme could possibly have!

He has got to put a stop to this now, before things go too far. If Chrom doesn’t walk away from the final battle with a smile after a hard-fought victory, then Grima will have failed his whole purpose in life.

… Not that Grima isn’t used to being a failure, but… This world is his greatest dream come true! If there is anywhere he should be able to succeed, it’s here!

Yes… For once, he won’t let himself ruin everything for everyone else.

“But if they attack us here, won’t we actually have the terrain advantage?” Chrom asks.

“You’d think, but no,” Grima says. “If we scatter into the forest, they’ll have a clear path forward. We won’t be able to pick them all off. But if we don’t scatter, they’ll claim the trees and we’ll have even more trouble picking them all off.”

“Ah, I see…” Chrom drops his pen onto the table in front of him. “Damn it.”

Grima covers his face with his hand and tries to look annoyed rather than utterly charmed. Letting Chrom spend the evening with him was a mistake, but it’s one he’s been making for months at this point.

What Grima should have said was “Chrom, there’s no future for us. Please leave me alone while I gather information for your campaign like the spy that I am.”

What he actually said was “Chrom… I’m sorry…” Chrom then replied. “I know… We’re about to go to war. It’s no time to be selfish. But when the fighting is through, I will once again turn my eyes to you.” And then anything else Grima might have said stuck in his throat.

And then, later, Chrom came to Grima’s room. To discuss strategy. And Grima let him in. He kept letting him in, and letting him in, and letting him in.

Now it’s far too late for Grima to pretend he wants Chrom to stop talking to him.

“Grima, I swear you know this land better than me,” Chrom says. “How do you do it? My tutors tried to give me the best education in Ylisse, though Naga knows I was never the best student. But compared to your mind, I must seem so… dull.”

“W-What? No… I’m…” Cheating, technically. He has special knowledge of the maps he programmed, after all. “I’m always constantly impressed by you, actually. A lot of princes would just delegate this stuff. Have someone brief them, then just issue orders. But you try to truly understand what you’re about to put your soldiers through. I don’t think you’re dull… I think you care.”

“You say it like it’s special,” Chrom says. “But in fact, it’s just my duty. I can’t ask my people to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. Every mistake I make falls on others to bear. If I’m NOT careful, then I’ve failed them… Yet I am not the most mindful of men. If I’m honest, between the two of us, you would make a far better prince.”

Grima laughs so suddenly and sharply that Chrom startles.

“Y-You think— Hahahahaha!” Grima has to take a few deep breaths before he can continue. “Oh, Chrom, anybody can read a treatise or memorize a map. Believe me, you’re the better prince and the better person. What you have… is actually rare.”

“Er…” Chrom frowns, “And what is that, exactly?”

“It comes naturally to you, so you don’t realize…” Grima shakes his head. “The way you draw allies to your side is not normal. People flock to you because you are far kinder and more considerate than the despicable cravens who usually hold power. You are an oasis in a desert devoid of comfort. To those who have known the world’s cruelty, your heart provides respite. You make us believe that there is something better than what we have known… ”

Grima may have said too much. Chrom is looking at him like he’s never seen him before.

“I… suppose if there is one thing I CAN do,” Chrom says, “it is fight for the future. Ylisse and Plegia are facing dark times now that the fell dragon has taken control… Truth be told, we have been in dark times since before I was even born. My father waged war against Plegia and left my sister to restore Ylisse. It was another war in a long line of wars between our nations. In fighting this war now, I do not merely want to perpetuate this violent legacy. If I have to fight to stop the fighting, then I will. Peace will come… Not just for me, not just for Ylisse, but for Plegia, Ferox, all of us… I won’t let your faith in me be misplaced. I swear it.”

Grima smiles at him. What can he do but smile? Chrom’s words are true, and he will go down as one of history’s greatest heroes.

“Once the fell dragon’s influence is eliminated from this world, everyone will finally be free,” he says. “You’ll make the world better. I know you will.”

“My Lord…” Validar grimaces. Now that’s the kind of expression Grima remembers from the game. “It seems that our low-level recruits are… utterly incompetent.”

Grima is well aware, having been present for the latest Grimleal attack on Chrom’s forces. It wasn’t that they were terrible fighters; it was simply a matter of the Shepherds being far better.

“The Prince of Ylisse is too powerful to dispose of with mere mercenaries,” Grima says. “I have been watching him for long enough… I think it’s time he pays a visit to the heart of Plegia. Invitation courtesy of the fell dragon, of course.”

“You’re going to face him personally?” Validar asks. “Surely there is no need… There are stronger forces we have yet to send. Why, I would face the Ylissean army myself before I dared to ask for your aid…”

“But you didn’t ask at all,” Grima says. “I gave you my orders.”

“… Of course, my Lord,” Validar says, bowing. “It will be as you command.”

But he still seems uneasy. Granted, Validar looks sort of haggard even at the best of times, and if this method of communication is anywhere near as bad for him as it is for Grima, it’s no wonder he would look uncomfortable.

But somehow that doesn’t seem right.

“Are you worried?” Grima asks. Validar’s expression flickers long enough for Grima to figure out the truth. Before Validar can protest, he continues. “Look, why don’t you just… write that letter to Chrom for me, and then get out of there? Fate is already written at that castle… You don’t need to be present.”

Honestly, he’s pretty sure he didn’t even write Validar an ending in the game. The Prince did fight him before getting to Grima, but the Shepherds just… moved on. Validar might have died, or he might not have. The battle was really just added for the sake of building up to the final battle. Thinking about it now, there really is no reason for Grima to order Validar to stay at the castle.

“Where would you have me go?” Validar asks.

“I don’t know. Wherever you want to,” Grima says. “Surely there’s some place you’d like to visit. You haven’t had a vacation since I was revived.”

“Nothing comes to mind,” Validar says. “My Lord… My purpose in life has always been to serve you. All that I desire is to be where you are… or where you want me to be.”

Grima grimaces. The part about Validar’s purpose… it’s completely true. Grima doesn’t even know Validar’s history; he had never written any backstory for this minor character who was only meant to help further the fell dragon’s evil plan.

“For now, I want you to be somewhere safe. You can decide for yourself where that is,” Grima says. “I have a plan, Validar. You don’t doubt me, do you?”

“No… Never,” Validar says. “Your will shall be done. As destiny has ordained.”

Somehow, he looks even more worried than he did before. Yet he has undoubtedly accepted Grima’s orders as final. He trusts that his god knows what he’s doing.

And Grima does know what he’s doing. Soon, this world will be free of the evil that has blighted it for so long. But Validar wouldn’t understand that. Grima is honestly a little concerned about what will become of the man once Grima is gone. He is betraying Validar as much as he is betraying Chrom, letting them both believe that he will continue to be at their sides. But unlike Chrom, who will certainly be okay, Validar is no hero. He controls the Grimleal, but they obey out of fear, not loyalty. In order for any of those people to be happy, the Grimleal have to fall apart. But Grima has no assurances that Validar will be okay… All he can offer him is a chance to survive.

“You’re free to go now.” Grima dismisses his servant for the last time. “… Farewell.”

“I know you’re going to say that this is an obvious trap,” Chrom says, showing Grima the letter he recently received. A trained crow dropped it right into his hands earlier that morning. Grima heard about it from Henry, who was ecstatic about it. “But if the fell dragon truly controls all of Plegia at this point, I don’t see what choice we have. And with the Falchion newly awakened… We have a chance to beat him once and for all.”

“Yes…” Grima runs his finger over the parchment. Validar really captured Grima’s flair for the dramatic, both in substance and form. The words are so beautifully poetic yet practically oozing sinister intent. The calligraphy turns the whole thing into a work of art. “I agree with you. We have to put an end to this.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but—” Chrom pauses. “Oh. Oh, you agree. Er, right. In that case, you can help me tell the rest of the Shepherds. They’ll take the news better with your endorsement.”

Grima doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’s the only one who trusts all of Grima’s ideas implicitly. Although his plans always work, he gained a good deal of skepticism after Operation Forest Fire. And nobody liked Operation Blow Up Ghost Town, even though, come on, no one even lived there!

Of course, he still gives Chrom a hand rallying the forces as they set out on their march to the Plegian capital.

The road is long, but for Grima, time seems to pass at double speed. Perhaps it is because he knows that these are the last precious moments he will ever spend with Chrom. Occasional attacks from “brigands” (who look suspiciously like Grimleal) slow them down, but Grima can’t even bring himself to be annoyed. How ironic that the end he’s been working towards for so long now makes him uneasy.

But as long as the fell dragon continues to exist, the world will never know peace. Between him and the world, he knows which is more important.

When they ultimately arrive at Plegia Castle, Validar is nowhere to be found. Good. But it seems he did leave a welcome party… As the Shepherds approach, hundreds of Risen soldiers come spilling out from the front gate.

“What… What ARE these things?” Chrom asks.

Right… Grima had sort of shoehorned the Risen into the game at the end.

“They’re the fell dragon’s army,” he explains. “They’re not alive. He makes them from corpses.”

He hasn’t made any new ones lately, though, so these ones have to be at least a couple years old. But that’s fine. It will make them easier to defeat.

Chrom’s gaze hardens.

“Grima,” he says.

Grima nods.

“I’ll cover you,” he promises.

And if his gaze lingers on Chrom’s face a bit too long, can anyone really blame him? This is the last time that they will fight together as allies.

But though Grima drinks in the sight, it does nothing to quench the burning feeling in his tightening throat.

“This is the Dragon’s Table,” Grima explains, following the script he remembers from the game. “This is where the fell dragon was awakened after thousands of years of slumber.”

“Pity he did not stay asleep,” Chrom says. “How many people have lost their lives in sacrifice to him?”

“... More than I can count,” Grima admits. In the game, it is a callous statement. Now, it is a secret apology. So many lives were ruined because of him. His death can save the future, but not the past. The lost are already lost.

“But just where IS the fell dragon?” Chrom asks. “The castle was full of nothing but Risen… I guess we’d better report back to the others that there’s nothing over here, either.”

“No…” Grima walks to the center of the altar. “The fell dragon is here…”

“Where?” Chrom looks up as though he expects to see the fell dragon flying above him. Well, it’s still slightly too early for that.

“He’s right here,” Grima says.

The next part is hard to say. So hard that he misses the timing entirely.

“Grima, I’m positive it’s just the two of us in here,” Chrom says. “We can look some more, but…”

“Stop it!” Grima screams.

He doesn't want to do this! But this has to end here and now! This is fate; he wrote it himself! The world will be so much better off without him… Chrom will be so much better off without him.

Unfurling his arms, he laughs. It is not the gleeful sound that he recalls from the game. It is the cry of a creature that has had far more than enough of this.

“I am the breath of ruin! I am the wings of despair!” he confesses. Above him, the sky darkens as the fell dragon materializes below the clouds. “I am the fell dragon, Grima! Don’t you get it, Chrom? I’ve been right next to you the whole time!”

“No…” Chrom’s jaw drops in horror. “No, you can’t be!”

“But I am,” Grima says. His human form is so pathetically small compared to the dragon’s. And isn’t that just right? He is so pathetically small compared to the weight of his despair. “I am hopelessness incarnate. I cannot coexist with happiness. That’s why it can only be you or me, Chrom.”

“Is that what you think?” Chrom asks wide-eyed.

“It’s the truth,” Grima says. “Seriously, Chrom… Don’t make this harder than it has to be… Honestly, I… I don’t even want to fight you. Come on and make it quick. Come make this miserable world… a little less…”

Chrom rushes forward, and Grima braces himself for the blow. But the stabbing he’s expecting never comes.

Instead, Chrom wraps his arms around him in a crushing embrace.

“I won’t do it,” Chrom insists. “I won’t fight you. I sure as hell won’t KILL you. What are you even saying?”

“Why are you being so stupid?” Grima asks. “All it takes is one slice of your blade and you’ll be a hero. You’ll live happily ever after with your friends. The world will be a better place… All because of you.”

“No it won’t!” Chrom pulls back just far enough to meet Grima’s eyes. “The world will never be better than it is with you in it! And how can you expect me to be happy? I thought you understood how I feel about you! I could never be happy in a world without you in it! Did you ever think about that?”

“I…”

He hadn’t, not really. The thing is… the Prince from the game is destined to be happy. The Prince from the game is relieved to slay the fell dragon and save the world. The Prince from the game is shocked and betrayed when the quiet, asocial spy in his employ, a man he knows absolutely nothing about, turns out to be the fell dragon.

Chrom may be the Prince… but this isn’t a game. Grima should have realized before that the character he created and the man he knows are nothing alike.

“I… wasn’t thinking about your feelings,” he says. “Only my own…”

“I know that you’ve suffered,” Chrom says. “You’ve told me you’ve suffered. I’ve seen the pain in your eyes. But don’t you remember what else you told me? That I make you believe there’s something better…”

“Yes… You do,” Grima says. “But like it or not, I AM the fell dragon. I am the reason that things are currently worse.”

“Then it’s your duty to try to make them better,” Chrom says. “Grima… There’s nothing you can do for this world by dying. Live for me. Stay by my side. You will help me turn this world into something better.”

Tears are forming in Grima’s vision. He closes his eyes. He’d sort of thought he’d forgotten how to cry. For all the pain he's felt, this is the first time in he-doesn't-know-how-long that he’s felt enough relief to cry.

Above him, the fell dragon dematerializes into nothingness. Grima can call it forth again… but he won’t.

“If it’s with you,” Grima says, resting his head on Chrom’s shoulder, “then maybe I really can.”

The fell dragon is gone.

“I saw him vanish with my own eyes,” Chrom swears, and who would ever doubt the Prince of Ylisse on this matter?

After what they’ve gone through, there’s no use in Grima pretending he isn’t head-over-heels in love with Chrom. Chrom was never pretending not to be in love with Grima in the first place. It doesn’t take very long for Chrom to propose marriage. Though it still feels too good to be true, Grima has enough sense to joyfully accept.

And that brings them concurrent with the game’s epilogue. The last thing Grima event Grima wrote for the Prince was a proposal scene, followed by a wedding CG.

It is finally sinking in that this world, this life, is not a work of fiction. Chrom is not the protagonist, and Grima is not the villain. They are just two people starting down a path with no clear end.

It is frightening.

But isn’t that just part of living?