Chapter Text
.
Takumi is four years old when the dream first comes to him.
A giant face, made of stone and metal, twisting and distorting, closed eyes that still somehow stare into the very core of him. The giant mouth splitting open to surge forward and devour him. He thrashes and wails, but no one can hear him over the crunching jaws that break his bones and tear his flesh. It’s so cold.
Takumi wakes up screaming.
It is Mikoto who comes to him then, holds him in her arms as he sobs in fear. She chases away the memory of the nightmare with soothing words, stroking his hair. Takumi knows she’s not his real mother, but Mikoto is the only mother he knows, the woman whose blood he carries long dead. He can only remember that her hair was brilliant crimson, like his sister’s.
-----
Takumi is six years old when Fujin Yumi accepts him.
He can barely hold the bow at all, still so tiny, his arms too skinny and weak for the mighty weapon. The legendary bow lights up regardless, forming a glowing string that was warm to the touch. It whispers to him, though he can’t understand.
Hinata is pouting, he knows, for the bow had not accepted her as its master. She had been training with bows for years in preparation.
Takumi would never see her pick up a yumi again.
He pouts too. He had wanted to use a sword, to be like his brave father, his elder brother. To be a proud warrior of Hoshido. Ryoma’s hand squeezes his shoulder. You’re capable of great things, brother, he says. Greater than I shall ever know.
-----
Takumi is ten years old when he finds his mother weeping in an empty nursery, the room unchanged for years, littered with children’s toys and drawings.
He doesn’t remember his sister. Not really. Just a vague memory of white hair and red eyes, smudged like wet ink in his mind. She had been his mother’s true child, the only one of them that shared her blood, and she had been taken by the Nohrians that murdered his father and king, forcing Mikoto onto the throne.
Takumi leaves before his mother can see him.
-----
Takumi is sixteen when the nightmares return in force.
He brushes it off. He is a man now, a holder of a legendary weapon, a prince of his kingdom. Strong men aren’t slowed down by bad dreams. But they plague him, keeping him awake in fear and wrung out after what little sleep he manages. He loses weight.
When he can no longer form the string of the Fujin Yumi, he is approached by his mother.
In a quiet, private space, he admits the dream, how it drains him, the violence of it never diminishing. How the face has gone from a whisper to a command, controlling his body, turning him against all he loved. Mikoto listens in silence, something strange passing over her eyes.
She tells Takumi to be strong.
---------------------------------
Leo is five years old when he understands that his mother does not love him.
His mother had always been strict, making sure he was perfect, from his hair to his clothes. Tugging at his arm to force him to obey, her voice harsh and sharp when she told him to be silent. He goes to find her one afternoon and he realizes why.
He’s a filthy little wretch, his mother complains to her handmaid, brushing out her beautiful blond hair. Children are horrible little things, I wish I didn’t have to shit one out to get anywhere. As soon as I’m queen, I’m shipping Leo off to the northern castle. Someone else can deal with the brat.
Leo seeks out Xander, who lets him silently cry against him.
-----
Leo is six years old when his father gives him his first spell book.
A mountain of a man, Garon stoops low to pat Leo’s hair as he tells him happy birthday. Leo knows then that his father loves him, even if his mother does not. He rushes back to his room to read the spell book over and over, refusing to sleep until he has every page memorized.
Two months later, his mother is assassinated. She chokes out Garon’s name around the poison in her tea, then falls still. Leo does not cry at her funeral.
-----
Leo is nine years old when the Brynhildr accepts him. Garon’s hand is on his shoulder, telling him that he is proud. Xander does the same. Leo beams from the attention.
His sister Camilla smiles warmly, even though the legendary weapon had refused her.
Leo spends days reading the Brynhildr front to back. He hears it whisper to him like no other spell book. He burns his hands trying to learn the spells, sets his rug on fire. Leo pushes through the pain. He would make his father proud.
-----
Leo is sixteen years old when he comes to understand what his sister is.
Corrin had always been different, her white hair and red eyes setting her apart in their family. Leo never knew her mother, never saw a consort with the same features, Corrin appearing one day after an assault on an enemy nation. Even locked away in the Northern Fortress, she seemed ever present, the family seeming to revolve around her. How since her coming of age, his father had become distant, a strange relief of an unknown god appearing on the ceiling of the throne room.
Leo feels as if something is coming, the Brynhildr whispering to him.
.