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Lucina had memories of her mother. She remembered a soft hug, long stretches of quiet broken up with a page turning or the sharpening of a blade on whetstone, a voice that was not her father’s whispering her name like a prayer as she drifted to and from sleep. They were hazy things, more half-formed feelings than memory, and they were heavily tinted by the stories Lucina’s father and brother told her.
“Mother was the best!” Morgan said one day after Lucina asked what she was like.
Morgan was older than her by a few years, and had known their mother. He had been raised at her side in place of the governesses Lucina knew.
“But what was she like?” Lucina pressed again.
“She was a great magic user and swordswoman. And she was father’s tactician! That’s how they met!” Morgan hopped up on one of the platforms of the marble statues that lined the walls. He puffed out his chest and held his hand a loft. Purple magic swirled inside and Lucina’s eyes widened. She had seen mages before, but none so close.
“She taught me this!” Morgan said.
As Morgan juggled his purple ball of magic from hand to hand, Lucina felt a dull throb in her chest. Morgan turned the ball blue and Lucina wondered just how much their mother had taught her brother in the time they had.
She glanced up at the rows of paintings and statues. At the end of the hall, close to where the corridor split in the direction of her father’s chambers was a painting of a woman. She sat poised in a chair, as if beckoning the viewer to come and discuss something with her. Her finger marked a page in a book like she would go back to reading the moment the painter was gone. More books sat behind her with rolls of maps and parchment. A twisted, magic-infused sword was strapped to her hip peaking out from her dark robes. Her hair was silver but her eyes were youthful, radiant, and quizzical.
Lucina could not yet read, but she knew the inscription. Every time they passed, Lucina would be read the inscription by her father, Morgan, or any of her father’s friends. It was like they were trying to remind her of the mother she did not have. “Tactician of the Shepherds, wife of Exalt Chrom.”
She and Morgan were clearly their father’s children. They sought adventure at every corner of their palace, sometimes causing it by ambushing their father’s friends. They would spend hours telling jokes to each other, until one would scream laughing and the other be declared the winner.
But Morgan at least had their mother’s magic. He had her bookish habits and many said her temperament as well. Lucina was all her father. From her blue hair, the mark on her eye, to even her attitude. “Rough and tumble” and “stubborn” as her aunts called her every time she skinned a knee or picked up her father’s too big sword.
Lucina would stare at her mother’s portrait, she wasn’t sure what she expected. She was old enough to know that the painting wouldn’t come to life, wouldn’t reach out her hand to her daughter. Yet, she still would spend hours by both sunlight and candle light, gazing at the painting, searching for any reflection of herself in a ghost.
That was how her father found her one night. Lucina sat in front of her mother’s painting, knees drawn to her chest, and a lantern by her side. Her father jumped when he saw her, before realizing who the waif in the corridor was, and he let out a sigh.
“What are you doing, Lucina?” He asked. Lucina said nothing and held up her arms. Her father sighed and picked up his daughter, holding her safe in his warm arms. “It’s late, and you need to go to sleep.” He said.
Her father carried her to her room, and Lucina watched over his shoulder until she could no longer see her mother.
“Father?” She asked. “Can you tell me about mother?”
“Your mother,” Chrom said, and for a moment, Lucina thought he would not continue, that he was too lost in the memories. “Was the best person I knew.”
“She never turned her back on anyone. She ran into battle with me moments after I met her in order to save people.”
Her father placed her on her bed and threw the covers over her knees. “Lucina,” he said her name like a command. “She loved you and your brother more than anything,”
“Then where is she?” Lucina askef.
Even in the dark of her room, Lucina saw her father’s face go slack. He leaned down and pecked a kiss on Lucina’s forehead. “She had to go away,” he finally said. “Something bad happened to her and she couldn’t be here anymore.”
Lucina knew death. She knew it came for plants in the winter, for her father’s old war horse one summer night, for a too small kitten in the corner of the kitchens. She had assumed that it had taken her mother, and that in their grief, no one who remembered her wanted to talk about her passing. That the tragedy of the young queen had left a shadow over Ylisse and only Lucina had been spared on account of her young age. At least, that was what she had assumed . Death’s cruelty would have been a mercy.
There were people in the palace, and all Chrom could think about were his children. His shepherds had flown out, ready to battle. Lissa had yelled at him to come on out into the field, but Chrom had stayed put in the entrance of the great hall. Morgan and Lucina were somewhere. He had to get to them and run.
The hall filled with smoke as a wall came crashing in and Chrom ducked away before centuries old stones crushed his head. A laugh filled the room and there was a spindly shadow in the smoke, like a man that had been stretched. Chrom unsheathed his sword and held it up, ready for whatever would charge at him.
Morgan. Lucina. He thought.
Then a new figure emerged. Chrom’s blood ran cold. He lowered his sword and fought back every instinct in his body. He wanted to cry, to scream out. He wanted to run to the figure in the fog. Instead, he set his jaw and squared his shoulders. He did not know if the figure in front of him was an enemy.
The figure stepped through the smoke and she blinked, like she was waking up from a daze. And it was her.
“ Robin ?” Chrom breathed.
Robin had not changed. She looked the same as the day she vanished, her silver hair tied up and her robes billowing around her.
“Chrom?” She said. She rubbed her eyes and stepped back, like she couldn’t believe she was seeing. “CHROM!”
Robin ran through the debris and launched herself into Chrom’s arms. Chrom could not believe Robin was back, but the weight of her, the sound of her breath, the pounding of her heart, all convinced him. Chrom held Robin close, burying his face against her neck.
“ My beloved ,” Chrom said, trying to stop the tears from leaking into his voice “ I missed you. ”
Robin’s face softened and she touched a hand to Chrom’s cheek. Chrom turned his head and kissed everyone of her magic-burned fingers.
“I missed you, too.” she said. Robin’s eyes were rimmed red. “I don’t know…I can’t explain…”
“It’s alright.” Chrom said. “You’re here now.”
“Where are the children?” Robin asked. Despite the sound of battle and the shaking of the ground beneath them, Robin’s voice was soft. Like she was only enquiring after a long day of work and not years of absence.
“They’re safe.” Chrom said. He felt a smile crack on his face and pride swell in his chest. “They’re so big now.”
A tear slipped down Robin’s cheek. “Are they?”
“Morgan is so like you.” Chrom said. “He studies so hard. He’ll be a fine mage- he already is a fine mage.”
Robin’s breath hitched. “And my baby?” she asked.
Chrom laughed to himself. How could he even begin to describe Lucina to his wife? “She’s perfect.”
Robin smiled and Chrom smiled down at her. It’s going to be okay. The children will be so excited when we find them. Once we get rid of the dastards in here, we’ll go find them.
The laugh filled the room again and a man stepped forward, he was too tall. Everything about him was ashen, as if he were smoke turned flesh. Chrom turned to his wife. Her face had hardened and she held her sword in one hand and a spell in the other. I missed you.
“We won, thanks to you.” Chrom said, smiling down at her.
Robin smiled back and she let out a breath. The strange man was unmoving, called by Robin’s spell. Magic pulsed in Robin’s blood, both from her own work and from pulling her husband out of the way of whatever that man had thrown at them. Robin opened her mouth to talk, but then a pain cracked her in the back of her skull.
Red flashed in Robin’s vision. She stumbled back, clutching her head. The room spun and pain fell over her in waves. There was a pounding in her head, in her eyes. It hurt to even look. Chrom, her beloved Chrom, dropped his sword and grasped at her arms. Robin’s knees gave out and her husband was the only thing holding her up.
“What’s wrong?” She heard him say, he sounded like he was underwater.
Robin didn’t know what it was. She didn’t know what was happening. Her last memories were in pieces. A blue haired baby finally asleep against her chest, cheeks still red from crying her head off. Her son’s voice as he begged for another story from his aunt. Her husband telling her everything would be alright, that he would wait for her.
Robin gasped as there was another flash of red. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out Chrom as he tried to reassure her and snap her out of whatever was happening. Darkness crept in the corners of Robin’s vision, and she hoped she was passing out.
But then her knees locked and her spine straightened. And there was the love of her life in front of her. His eyes were wide, and his smile was kind. “Are you-“
There was a crackle of light. Chrom never finished his sentence as he cried out. He staggered back from Robin, clutching at the lightning bolt sticking out of his chest. His face had gone pale. Chrom looked between himself and Robin and shook his head, but there was recognition in his eyes, as if he had put the pieces of a puzzle together.
Robin’s hand went up and she saw that there were still rivulets of lightning running over her finger tips. No . she wanted to say. She wanted to scream. She wanted to channel a healing spell, but the words never came and as much as she tried, her hand would not form the movements. Red crept further into her vision.
Chrom looked at her still, new tears in his eyes. He collapsed to his knees. “This is not your fault…” Chrom said. “Promise me you’ll escape from this place. With our children…go…”
Robin moved to run to Chrom’s side, but it was like she was running into a stone wall. The harder she fought, the harder she slammed into the wall; her body would not move. It could only watch as Chrom’s eyes fluttered closed and he fell face first into the debris.
“What’s that noise?” Lucina asked.
The lanterns in the library shook. Lucina hopped off her chair and pressed her face against the window. Knights stormed out the barracks, swords drawn. Somewhere near the gate something was burning, and the smoke turned the sky black. There was screaming in the palace.
“Stay here, I’ll go look.” Morgan said.
Lucina wanted to protest, she felt dread over them like a cloud. But Morgan was her big brother. He stood by the door, almost as tall as one of the statues in the library. He held their mother’s spell book in his arms, and he flashed her a confident smile. Lucina wanted to tell him he wasn’t an adult, but that wouldn’t have stopped him.
Lucina only waited a few minutes, before slipping out of the library and after Morgan.
Morgan stumbled over the fallen pillars. His eyes and throat burned from the smoke and plaster in the air. The voices were coming from the great hall, and one was his father and he sounded like he was fighting. Morgan picked up his pace. There was a scream and an explosion.
Morgan poked his head around the doorway. In the center of the room lay a shriveled man with grey skin. His father stood to the side embracing a woman in a dark robe. Before Morgan could call out to his father and ask what was happening, his father cried out. His father fell to his knees, a bolt of magic lightning protruding from his chest. He looked up at the woman and said words Morgan couldn’t quit hear. Then his father fell and lay still.
The figure turned. Her eyes looked like black was injected into them with spider veins of purple spreading out and spilling out onto her face. Morgan faltered and tears welled up in his eyes. “Mother?” Morgan asked.
The woman reached out a hand and magic purple shrapnel shot out. Morgan ducked around his mother’s book to protect it from scorching. Light flashed behind his eyelids. Morgan felt heat on his robe and then on his skin and then nothing. He cracked his eyes open and realized he was on the floor. The figure stood over him, breathing like she had run a race. She raised her hand again. Morgan felt wetness on his chest.
He wanted his father to get up. To help him.
The figure wasn’t his mother.
Lucina picked her way through the rubble. The screaming and explosions had long fallen way to silence. The palace was destroyed. Lucina shuffled between the bricks of what once was her home. Stones skittered across the floor as she kicked them along, and more than once Lucina stumbled over one that was too big.
“Father? Morgan?“ she called. She received no answer.
Lucina found her way to the great hall. The doors had been blasted out, and Lucina could not stop her eyes from looking at the carnage within. There was a body far away and unmoving. There was a man dressed in blue who lay with a gaping wound in his back. A boy was next to him, a trail of blood from where he had crawled along the floor. He too was still. Over them all stood a woman; her expression was blank but tears flowed down from her eyes. They were stained purple and red from the color of fire and magic. Lucina would have known the face anywhere, she stared at it every night.
Lucina took one more step into the room. Then she screamed.
Lucina did not know what to make of Robin. Sometimes she was so quiet she would melt into the background, other times, especially when she was with the man who would be Lucina’s father, her chatter would be endless. It was strange to think of the man before her, Chrom, as her father. He was so different. So young.
He smiled easily at Robin, like a prince from a song. He let Robin touch his face, and when they thought no one was looking he kissed her fingers, one after the other.
When Lucina saw it, she ducked back behind a tent before running in the opposite direction. She had witnessed something she should not have. Such a private moment. That was not the worst of it. Far from it. Lucina had suspected it for weeks, ever since she saw the tactician draw her hood and hold out her spell book in battle. It had been a stab in Lucina’s heart and she bit her tongue to stop from calling out to her brother. Between the hand and the sheer resemblance to Morgan, that was how she came to figure out Robin would marry her father and become her mother.
No. It can’t be her. Lucina thought as she curled up on her bunk. She was Chrom’s daughter. His daughter with a gentle, book-loving mage. She doesn’t look like the painting. She isn’t that monster .
Lucina bit her scarf so she would not alert the other Sheperds to her crying. Even if Lucina acknowledged she had a mother, she was gone . More abstract than anything. And if she wanted to be literal, her mother was currently a demon that had slaughtered the elite of Ylisse in a single day, and nearly her. Her mother wasn’t a soft spoken amnesiac who loved books so much she’d leave a meal time to read. She wasn’t such a good tactician that she seemed to read minds.
“She’s staring at me,” Lucina heard Robin whisper to Chrom one day.
“She stares at me too,” Chrom replied.
“No. To me it’s different. What am I to her in the future?” Robin said.
Lucina kicked away from the tree she was leaning on. She had heard enough. She wanted to grab Robin by both shoulders and shake her. Why do you wear my mother’s face? Why is it you?
Lucina heard Robin approach one night before she saw her. She stayed by her spot by the fire sharpening her sword.
“Can’t sleep?” Robin asked.
“I never could sleep well,” Lucina said.
“Neither could I.” Robin said. She pulled a book out from under her robes, but it didn’t open it.
“So, Chrom is your father,” Robin said.
“Yes. He is.”
Robin glanced back in the direction she had come from. “Well, your father is sound asleep and I doubt he’ll wake up for anything.” She seemed to relish in calling Chrom a father. As if the notion was a hilarious joke about her friend.
Yet, Lucina could not stop a grin from appearing in her face. She smothered it the second she realized she and Robin were exchanging smiles. “Why do you say that?” Lucina asked.
“Oh, just, if you could never sleep, Chrom must not have been very happy when you were little.” Robin tried to laugh, but the effort was wasted on Lucina.
“He had my mother. She wouldn’t mind it. She would take me to the library with her or just walk around the palace with me.” Lucina said.
She had been told the story often enough that she could place her mother in those familiar settings, and she could add herself in as she saw fit. Her mother had seemed like a no-nonsense kind of person. She probably would have held a baby Lucina in one arm and spoke plain to her about the book of magic she was reading, that this potion needed this kind of plant pulverized in such a way.
Robin smiled. “Your mother sounds like a good person. I’m glad Chrom found her and had a life with her.”
“He loved her so much. We all did.” Lucina said.
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared.” Lucina said. “Before I had any real memory of her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Robin said.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Lucina said. She wiped down her blade and pocketed the stone.
“What was she like?” Robin asked.
“I’ve asked that question for years.”
“Humor me,” Robin said.
Lucina sighed and mulled through all her memories of her mother. Those she made herself and those given to her.
“She was smart. But a tough teacher. She never let my brother get away with anything.” Lucina said. “And she tucked me in. Every night.”
Lucina glanced up and could not help but stare at Robin. There was a brilliant gleam in her eye and her fingers drummed on her book cover, save for her thumb which was tucked in to mark her page.
“Are you alright? You’re staring,” Robin asked.
“Sorry. I’m fine. You just…I was remembering something from my time.”
Robin’s face softened. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Lucina shook her head. She got up and sheathed her sword. “I’m going to retire for the night.” She said, but it was only an excuse to get away from Robin so Lucina could be alone. How would this person become her father’s wife? Or even a monster that could destroy them all?
“Lucina,” Robin said, her voice almost sing-song. “Your mother loved you. More than anything,”
Lucina turned back and smiled. She felt tears in her eyes. “I know.” She said. “She told me.”