Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's just Leo's luck that his army has stumbled into the lair of the kitsune.

The Hoshidan forest had become a waking nightmare. It was as if the land itself were rising against the Nohrian army, attempting to drive them back out of this land of color and sunlight. There, for a moment, a flash of pale orange fur—but by the time Leo turns, there is nothing there. All around him he hears screams as men and women suddenly find themselves pounced upon, torn apart by kitsune jaws and claws or dragged off into the trees. A flash of rich auburn, a scream—and then nothing but a corpse.

We outnumber them, Leo thinks, though he can't be sure, but we don’t know the land. And we can’t pin them down long enough to kill them. If this keeps up—

Leo’s horse whinnies in fear and dances a few steps to the side, ears pressed back and eyes wide. Something has spooked her, but Leo can't see it. 

The rest of the army can't be far behind. We just have to hold on until reinforcements catch up. Simple enough.

Then all hell breaks loose.

The bushes around them explode into action. Screams erupt from Leo’s men as kitsune fall upon them, fangs digging into throats, claws raking across exposed flesh.

A frightened cry hooks into his chest and wrenches. “Leo! Help!”

Around him, horses scream and bolt, heedless of their riders. Leo feels his own toss underneath him and loses precious moments bringing her back under control.

There, not far away, is Arthur, trapped beneath someone’s horse; there is Effie wrestling with a kitsune in human form; there is Benny muscling his way through four or five of the beasts—and there is Elise, ripped from her horse and being dragged by a dappled kitsune off into the woods.

“Hold on, Elise!” Leo digs his heels into his horse’s sides, spurring her onwards. She leaps over some invisible obstacle; moments later Leo hears a spluttering sound as a kitsune tears the throat from the man behind him. How are these creatures everywhere at once?

“Leo! Ow! Stop it!” Elise fumbles for her hair, eyes watering as the kitsune tugs sharply. Leo reaches for Brynhildr and prepares to warp the surrounding foliage to his will.

Blood suddenly drenches the ground underfoot. Leo’s horse collapses beneath him, letting out a haunting scream that morphs into a gurgle. Leo is thrown forward, tumbling over rocks and through bushes, until he smacks up against a tree shoulder-first. Pain chases the air from his lungs.

A patch of light-dappled leaves peels away from the surrounding forest. Another kitsune, its maw stained deep red. Blood drips from its sharp teeth as it stalks nearer, letting out an ear-splitting noise. It sounds, hauntingly, like the scream of a terrified woman. The cry is picked up throughout the forest, more kitsune joining in, declaring their territory. This is our land. You are not welcome here. 

A voice floats to Leo on the breeze. "Don't you want to play with us more? We can play chase. Go on, kit, run!"

"I don't have time for games, beast," Leo spits. He makes a move for his tome. The kitsune snarls and pounces.

Thwip! A single arrow buries itself in the kitsune’s eye. It collapses, dead, at Leo’s feet. To his right he hears triumphant whooping.

The horse is pale white, stark against the red-gold-brown of the forest. Atop its back sits a beautiful young woman in Nohrian finery and a boy, perhaps twelve or thirteen, holding on with only his legs. He carries a bow—no, not a bow. A yumi.

What are a Nohrian noblewoman and a Hoshidan archer doing riding through these woods together at night?

The archer nocks another arrow, and Leo dives behind the trunk of the nearest tree. A shrill whimper marks the defeat of another kitsune; seconds later, she sprints past Leo's hiding place with an arrow deep in her side. He pokes his head out and sees Elise crawling out of the foliage, dusting herself off and wobbling a little. Blood seeps from deep scratches on her arm. Despite her recent abduction, she beams up at the strangers on horseback and waves. “Thanks, mister!”

Leo picks himself up and hurries towards his sister. Too late; the strangers have already dismounted before Elise. The woman holds a healing rod in one hand as she passes her other over Elise’s arm. The wounds seal up, leaving only torn fabric to mark where the kitsune’s claws pierced her tender skin.

“Big brother!” Elise crows when she notices him. “Look, I made new friends!”

Leo sizes them up. Upon closer inspection he thinks they might be related--cousins, perhaps? They possess the same round, youthful features; the same silver hair; the same sparkling brown eyes. There is a hint of an epicanthic fold to the woman’s lids. Half-Hoshidan, maybe, but it only recognizable if you looked for it. There's something about the pair that reminds him of someone he’s seen before, but like a dream upon waking it slips from his grasp the moment he tries to focus on it.

They're also visibly worn down. There are dark circles under their eyes; their hands and faces bear signs of scrapes, cuts, and bruising; their clothes have been patched and mended so many times that it's easy to miss how fine the fabric once was. They have a shifty, darting quality to their body language, like they expect to find themselves under attack at any moment.

“Who are you?” Leo demands. “What are you doing here?”

The young woman fidgets with her ringlets. When she spoke, she has a surprisingly deep voice for someone so petite. “I'm afraid it's difficult to explain. We—wait! Kiragi!”

The boy nimbly dodges her outstretched fingers and throws himself at Leo, who reaches for his sword, prepared to defend himself—but the boy has wrapped his arms around Leo and is squeezing him in the tightest, most aggressive hug Leo has ever received. “Father! We found you!”

“Wha—Father?” Elise splutters. “Leo! You didn’t tell me you had kids!”

“I don’t, obviously,” Leo says through gritted teeth. After a bit of wiggling, he shoves the boy away. “Are you face-blind or just stupid?”

The young woman places a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know it is hard to believe, but—”

“Hard to believe? I’m barely older than you! How could I possibly have children your age?!"

“It’s the truth, though!” the boy called Kiragi insists. “You're our dad! Well, not you you. A different you. Wow, you’re so young! How old are you, seventeen? Eighteen? We must have gotten here pretty early, huh, Forrest?”

“Indeed. Are Hoshido and Nohr still squabbling like children?” the woman asks.

“We are not squabbling,” Leo hisses, “we’re at war. And you are a bit too close to our army for my liking. What are you really here for?” He brushes his fingers over Brynhildr, summoning a seething mass of vines that slowly encroach on their little group. “I advise that you start talking.”

“We are talking!” the woman snaps. “You simply aren’t listening!”

"You dare speak to a prince of Nohr in this manner?" The vines surge over the strangers' feet and climb their legs. Leo holds the woman's gaze. "Know your place!"

"Oh, I most certainly do!" The woman slams her staff down, and power floods the air. Leo feels the tell-tale surge of a Dragon Vein and can only watch as the vines disintegrate into harmless heaps of autumnal leaves. 

Royal blood flows in her veins, Leo realizes. But whose? 

“If it will put you at ease,” the woman says, “you can take our weapons.” She holds out her staff and gestures for Kiragi to do the same with his bow. “Take us to the rest of your siblings and we will tell you everything we can. I know how this looks, believe me, but we wish you no harm. We come with a warning, and an offer of aid.”

Between the woman’s determination and Elise’s pleading expression, Leo finds himself relenting. “Fine. But make one wrong move and you’ll learn firsthand what it’s like to be a shrike’s prey.”

Kiragi grins. “Ooh, good one, Father! I’ll have to remember that!”

“And stop calling me Father!”

“You got it, Papa!”

Leo can feel the headache coming on. “This had better be good," he mutters.

//////

By the time they locate the others, the rest of the army has arrived and routed the kitsune. Someone, presumably Corrin, has located a Dragon Vein and used it to form a natural perimeter that parts for Leo and Elise as they approach. It seems they'd be spending the night in Hoshido rather than the Astral Realm, judging by the tents being erected and the firepits being dug. 

The newcomers draw glances as Leo and Elise lead them through the camp. As far as the young woman is concerned, it's probably due to her beauty; Kiragi, however, is a different matter. Leo finds himself amazed at how oblivious the boy is to the muttered curses and hateful names people speak at his passing. If anything, the words seem to have more of an effect on the woman, who sticks close to her brother's side with her hand providing a counterbalance to the saddlebags thrown over his other shoulder.

Near the center of camp is one of several moss-coated homes, decorated with bits of shell and colorful fabrics and strings of fresh flowers. Its construction is peculiar even for Hoshido. Leo revises his assumption about the living habits of kitsune, faced as he is with physical evidence of a strikingly human instinct to build shelters. Whoever it once belonged to, the house is now draped in Nohrian banners, indicating to all the place where Xander has chosen to establish headquarters. Kaze nods to them as they pass, weathering Kiragi's intense scrutiny with his typical impassivity. Leo thinks he hears the boy whisper something about a missing scar.

When Leo reaches the makeshift war room he breathes a sigh of relief—Xander, Camilla, Corrin, even Azura are seated together at the table, with Jakob hovering around Corrin like a housefly around a fruit bowl and Laslow lounging against the wall behind Xander. The four older siblings are speaking in tense, hushed tones when Leo walks in, until Laslow raises a hand in greeting. "If it isn't Lord Leo and the lovely Lady Elise!"

Corrin drops the dragonstone she'd been rolling anxiously between her palms. She dashes across the room to sweep Elise into a hug, then surprises Leo by doing the same to him. "You're back! We were about to send out a search party!"

“Oh, my darling little siblings, I was so worried about you!” Leo barely sidesteps being pulled into a second hug from Camilla, but isn't quick enough to avoid having his cheeks cupped and his head turned side to side as his overbearing older sister inspects him for injuries. “You're not hurt, are you? Shall I do a little fox hunting before supper?"

“We’re fine, Camilla,” Leo huffs, finally succeeding in dislodging her hands. 

“Leo,” says Xander. He stands straight and tall, the perfect ideal of a Nohrian prince, victor of the day's battle. Leo swallows down the shame and makes sure to fix his own mask of impassivity in place as he prepares for the lecture that is sure to come. Yes, I let things get out of control. Yes, I should have done better. No, it won't happen again.

But Xander's eyes are fixed on a point beyond Leo's shoulder. “Who are our guests? You've yet to introduce them.”

Ah. Right. The reason he'd come here. He still hasn't figured out what to say to Xander about the situation. Unfortunately, Elise beats him to it. “They say they’re Leo’s kids! Isn't that exciting?"

“Leo's...children?” Camilla’s eyes grow wide. “My baby brother has children?!"

“Oh, for—no! No, I do not!"

“Greetings,” says the young woman, stepping around Leo and curtseying. “My name is Forrest. This is my brother Kiragi.”

“That’s me!” The boy rushes forward, beaming at each person in turn as he dumps the saddlebags beside the table. “Gosh, it’s so good to see you all again. Look, Forrest, there’s not a single white hair on Uncle Xander’s head! And Auntie Camilla has both her eyes!”

"What is the meaning of this?" Xander demands. 

Forrest moves past Camilla and takes a seat at the table without waiting for an invitation. “I’d be happy to tell you as much as I can about our circumstances. It’s going to sound like utter nonsense, but I implore you to hear us out. The fate of this world may depend on it.”

Corrin, predictably, is immediately convinced. “Of course we’ll listen. Jakob can get you something to drink. Are you hungry?”

Xander and Camilla exchange glances in some sort of silent communication. Eventually Xander nods and gestures to Jakob. “We'll have tea, and a few more stools, if you please.”

Once they're all settled, and the children have finished their meals—Forrest with small dainty bites, Kiragi in eager gulps—Xander crosses one leg over the other and regards the strangers. “Go on, then. Tell us what you know.”

Forrest takes a deep breath. “Best to begin at the beginning. My brother and I were born near the border of Hoshido and Nohr—”

“Yeah, in—”

“Kiragi!” Forrest nearly shouts. Her face is a study in panic.

Kiragi shrinks in his seat. “Oh, yeah, uh…in the middle.”

“There was a terrible war,” Forrest continues. “It stretched on for over a decade, across realms. We grew up surrounded by it; Kiragi was born mere yards from an active battlefield.”

“I’m going to have to stop you right there,” Leo interrupts. “I’ve studied history extensively, and I’ve never heard of such a war.”

“Of course not," says Kiragi. "It hasn't happened in this timeline."

Elise practically shouts. “Timeline??”

“Yes, in our timeline, the war between Nohr and Hoshido came to an end with the discovery of an invisible enemy. The two kingdoms united to fight this threat, and for a long time it appeared we would emerge victorious.” Forrest’s lower lip trembles. “But…but then…”

Kiragi rubs his sister’s back and rests his head on her arm. It seems to give her just enough strength to finish her thought. “I wish I could talk about it, but the most I can say is that we lost, and our parents used the last bit of power remaining to them to give us a shot at escaping.”

“We had help, for a while,” says Kiragi, more subdued than he’s been all night. Even though Leo has known him for less than an hour, it strikes him as deeply unnatural that this child should ever be so glum. “Odin showed us how to navigate across the timelines.”

“We got separated from him and our cousin Ophelia on the fourth try, and we haven’t run into them since,” says Forrest. “Every timeline we’ve come across was either already ruined in some way or fell apart at a crucial stage. We’ve watched you all die countless times…but there has to be a way. This is the earliest we’ve ever arrived. I can only hope it’s a sign of good things to come.”

The tent is quiet for a moment, each person considering the implications of this new information. Eventually, Xander breaks the silence with a sigh. “That…certainly is ominous.”

“It’s nonsense, is what it is,” says Leo. “I have to admit I’m disappointed. If Hoshido is going to send infiltrators into our camp, they should at least have found the courtesy to give us a challenge.”

“Excuse me, milord,” Laslow says. “If you don’t mind, I think I can lend some credence to their story.”

“Go on,” says Xander.

“Hopping timelines is not as far-fetched as it sounds, you see. We once faced a similar catastrophe in our world, and, likewise, escaped to an alternate timeline. I have, in fact, performed this feat many times myself—as have Odin and Selena. If our presence in this realm has become a constant, then it stands to follow that another version of Odin could have guided them through the process.” He inclines his head with a flourish of his hand. “It is your decision, milord, whether or not to trust them or accept their counsel, but if my opinion counts for anything, I would err on the side of belief.”

“I trust them,” Corrin says. Of course. “If there’s any chance for peace, we should take it.”

“If you require further proof, Father, I have this.” Forrest reaches into her saddlebag and withdraws an ornate tome. A very familiar ornate tome.

Xander sits forward. “That’s…!”

“Brynhildr,” Camilla says, her voice hardly louder than a breath.

On instinct Leo reaches for the tome at his hip, secure in its straps. He can sense the magic emanating from it, as natural and comfortable to him as the library in Castle Krakenburg, but the same aura comes from the copy on the table. “I don't believe it. It's really Brynhildr."

“This was the last gift you bestowed upon me,” says Forrest. “I have used it only sparingly, for fear that I am ill-suited to wield the power it grants, but it is within my capabilities. Does this suffice to prove the veracity of my claims?”

All the air evaporates out of the room, drawn into the black hole that is the second Brynhildr and everything it symbolizes. 

“Splendid,” says Forrest, taking their silence for an answer. She sweeps the tome back into her bag.

Xander grimaces. “A two-front war is to be avoided at all costs. We must accelerate our efforts to reach Castle Shirasagi and put an end to this stage of the war. Once we do that, we can incorporate Hoshido’s strength into our own and face this invisible threat."

“Father will never allow such a thing,” Camilla sighs. “Not unless he can proclaim himself king of Hoshido. An alliance is out of the question.”

“Then we won’t tell him our plan,” says Corrin. “It would take too long to explain anyway.”

Xander turns to Forrest and asks, "What more can you tell us of our enemy, so that we might prepare to meet them on the field of battle?”

Forrest shakes her head. “Nothing. I wish I could say more, sincerely I do, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

For the first time, Azura speaks up. “Trust them, Xander. I know in my heart that they speak truth.” She meets Forrest’s eyes and smiles. "In time, all will be revealed."

Something passes unspoken between Azura and the children. Forrest’s shoulders relax, like a heavy load has been lifted from them.

Xander sighs and rubs his temples. “I dislike keeping secrets from Father, but given the consequences if we should fail, I see no harm in allowing them to stay with us.”

“Yay! Thanks, Uncle Xander!” Kiragi chimes.

Forrest clasps her hands to her chest. Tears stream down her cheeks. “You have no idea what this means to us!”

“Oh, you poor dears!” Camilla scoops both of them to her chest in a tight hug. “Don’t you worry your pretty little heads. Auntie Camilla is here to protect you.”

“I’m sorry, are we just accepting that they claim to be my children?” asks Leo. “For all we know they could have stolen Brynhildr off my corpse. Besides, they look nothing like me!”

“Whatever do you mean, Little Brother?” asks Camilla. “Forrest clearly inherited your sweet smile! Oh, you’re both so adorable! Your mother must have been gorgeous. Who was it, darling? We must make sure Leo meets her in this timeline!”

Kiragi laughs, a joyous sound that lights up the room. “We don’t have a mother!”

“Oh?” Camilla croons. “Does this mean our dear Leo has a pretty little husband waiting for him in Hoshido?”

“Yup!” Kiragi drops back onto his stool and kicks his legs. “Dad’s great! He’s soooo cool, and he taught me lots of cool things, and he always protects us no matter what! Someday I’m going to be as great an archer as he is.” He swivels to face Leo. “Man, it’s going to be so weird seeing him young! But good, too. Dad’s the best. You’re gonna love him!”

Leo thinks about it, really thinks about it, and feels a horrible blush overtake his cheeks. He turns so his collar will hide the worst of it. “We’ll see about that.”

He has children. He's going to have a husband. A husband who is Hoshidan. Gods, how is he supposed to react to that?

Chapter Text

“Kiragi. How many times do I have to tell you to check your work? You’ve made the same mistake as last time!” Father slammed the quill beside Kiragi’s completed lesson. “If you would just apply yourself you could be done with this!”

Kiragi glared at the ink blotter beside his seat. It was always like this: Father would rattle off a boring lecture, the information would glance off his brain and refuse to stick no matter what he did, and then he’d fail whatever problem or test Father set in front of him. It wasn’t as if he was trying to be bad at it. He just couldn’t see the point of math, and history was a long list of dates and names and dead people he couldn’t keep track of. Kiragi kept getting distracted by the view out the window of sunlight twinkling off the pond, which made him want to go swimming and see if he could find any more pearls to give to Forrest. Auntie Elise was getting married soon, and Forrest had promised her the most beautiful wedding gown she could imagine. Kiragi hadn’t seen the plans yet, but pearls were the prettiest gem he could think of. Dad had given him one when he’d turned five, telling him it was a traditional gift among Hoshidan nobility to wish someone a happy, healthy life. Kiragi carried it everywhere in a little silk pouch tucked into his clothes. Sometimes he took it out and rolled it between his fingers just to appreciate how smooth it was. It helped keep him grounded on hunts when there was nothing to do but wait and any sound could scare off—

“Kiragi!”

Father didn’t quite shout, but by the tone of his voice it wasn’t the first (or even second) time he’d tried to get Kiragi’s attention. Kiragi hunched his shoulders and folded his arms. “What?!”

“Why can’t you ever seem to pay attention?! I swear, you’re worse than Setsuna sometimes!”

“I’m bored! Can’t I just go hunting? I promise I’ll come home and finish the lesson!”

“That’s what you said last time, and what did you do?” Father made a wide gesture with one arm in the general direction of their sleeping quarters. “You came home, practically inhaled supper, went directly to bed and fell asleep still wearing your hunting clothes! You should have been done with this topic three weeks ago!”

“Why do you care? It’s not like I’m inheriting your title or anything.”

“Being a second son doesn’t exempt you from royal duties. When I was your age, I had mastered concepts far beyond this.” Father waved the worksheet like it contained crude poetry fit only for burning.

Kiragi scowled. “Who cares about your precious legacy? None of it matters anyway, since we’re stuck in Valla and the Astral Realm. Why don’t you stop forcing lessons down my throat and get back to winning the war? At least then I could actually see the kingdoms I’m prince of!”

Father turned beet-red. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me! You have no idea how much your father and I have put into this war!” He slammed a fist against the table. The inkwell toppled, its contents surging forth, staining the wood and Father’s pale fingers black. “Ungrateful brat! If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be here!”

Kiragi pushed away from the table. “I’m going hunting, and you can’t stop me!”

“Excuse me?! I am your father!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’d be better off if you weren’t!” Kiragi shouted back. Then he picked up the ink blotter and threw it at his father.

It didn’t even come close. The throw was all power, no accuracy, but Father reacted as if he’d been hit with a flagstone. The color drained dramatically from his slack face.

All Kiragi could hear was his own breath and the rapid thum-thum-thum of his heart beating against his ribs like the wings of a panicked bird. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Why did I say that why did I do that why why why?

Father’s face twisted in a way Kiragi had never seen before. “KIRAGI ALEXANDER!!”

Kiragi sprinted for the door. Behind him he heard his father shouting, “You dare disobey me? If you leave this house, you are no longer welcome here! Do you hear me, boy?!”

Eyes hot with tears, Kiragi grabbed his yumi and quiver and didn’t look back.

//////

He hid in a thicket and cried. He cried harder and louder and longer than he’d ever cried in his life, and when he ran out of tears he stumbled to the river, drank, and cried some more. He didn’t care that it scared the birds away. A boar could have served itself up to him on a platter and he wouldn’t have had the heart to lift an arrow.

He’d never regretted anything so instantly. The blotter had barely left his hands before he’d wanted to snatch it back, but no divine tome would ever grant Kiragi the ability to reverse gravity.

His head pounded, his eyes stung, his jaw ached, his chest felt hollow and tight at the same time. He stopped crying, eventually, purely because it hurt too much. He just lay beneath a tree and sniffled, utterly exhausted, with leaves sticking to his cheek and twigs tangled in his hair.

He wanted to hide. He wanted his dad. He wanted to apologize to Father, but he couldn’t, because he didn't have a home anymore. He’d have to live in the woods all alone, without his dads and his brother and all his aunts and uncles and cousins, and he was going to miss Auntie Elise’s wedding, and he’d never get to bring Forrest pearls, or eat Dad’s miso soup for breakfast, or fly through the air while Father used Brynhildr to levitate him…

Another sob forced its way out of Kiragi’s throat. He trembled, a pathetic, abandoned, ungrateful child, too stupid to learn, too flighty to be trusted with real work. A failure as a prince and as a son.

Everyone always talked about how much Kiragi looked like his dad, how he took after him in so many ways. A chip off the ol’ block, Hinata would say, gently mussing Kiragi’s hair. It always made him smile to hear it, but it wasn’t true. Forrest was the one who really took after their dads. He was smart, no-nonsense, amazing at so many things. There was no point trying to be like him, so Kiragi didn't try. He was good at things that Forrest couldn’t do, like hunting and fighting and climbing trees. Forrest would do the fancy ruling business. Kiragi had always figured he'd find something to do in Hoshido, or be named Master of the Hunt by whichever one of his cousins ended up ruling Nohr (Kiragi had never been too clear on who was inheriting what at that level). He wondered if you needed to know math and history to get that job. Maybe he’d never stood a chance in the first place.

It was starting to get late. Kiragi curled into a shivering ball, debating his options. He could stay out here all night and probably get eaten by a bear, or he could try to sneak back into the castle and hide somewhere no one would find him. There were lots of little wooded areas and ponds, even a river that wound its way among the buildings, where he could go undetected by the adults. He’d just have to make sure his cousins knew not to tell on him.

Who was he kidding? Siegbert would tell on him immediately.

That just left the woods. If he was going to stay out here for a long time, he’d need supplies. There was only one place he knew of in the Astral Realm to find everything he would need to live on his own.

With a heavy heart, Kiragi plodded along the forest floor towards the place he’d once called home.

/////

After slipping past the guards and avoiding anyone out for an evening stroll (surprisingly few for this hour), Kiragi climbed the tree by his house, left his shoes in the crook of a branch where it met the trunk, and crawled through the window to his room. There wasn’t much in the way of a moon tonight, but Kiragi’s eyesight was better than most. He grabbed a knapsack from under his bed and began stuffing whatever he deemed essential into it: a blanket, his favorite toy, a coat Forrest had made for him, a cool rock he’d found by the river, the tinderbox Niles had given him for his birthday that Dad hadn't wanted him to have, another smaller blanket that he’d had since he was a baby and couldn’t sleep without…

The house was still and silent, amplifying every slight movement of Kiragi’s socks against the floor. He wasted a minute trying to find his waterskin before remembering he’d left it downstairs. He wasn't sure it was worth the risk to go get it, but his feet were already carrying him into the hall.

When he reached the door to his dads’ room, Kiragi paused. He could hear low murmurs from the other side, just quiet enough that he couldn’t make out what was being said. Curiosity got the better of him; he tip-toed closer, expertly avoiding any creaky floorboards, and pressed his ear to the door.

“—what I said to him.” It was Father. He sounded hoarse. “I’m turning into my father.”

“You're not. You’ll never be him.”

Kiragi had heard stories about Grandfather—the man he’d been once, and the man he’d become. As far as anyone knew he was still ruling Nohr from beyond the Bottomless Canyon, completely oblivious to the existence of his grandchildren. Sometimes Kiragi caught the grown-ups speaking in hushed tones, wondering about the state of the war “up there.” It was weird to think about the fact that the grown-ups had all lived most of their lives in an entirely different world, where the clouds were white and the sky was blue and islands rose from something called the ocean. Kiragi couldn’t even picture an ocean. How could that much water exist anywhere?

Bitter laughter from beyond the door. “Oh? How would you know? Did your father call you boy and threaten to disown you if you didn’t obey his every command?”

Silence. Kiragi wished he could see what was happening on the other side. If someone was coming to the door, would he be able to tell in time to hide?

Father spoke again. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I can do better. I should be doing better.” Father’s voice sounded odd. “They idolize you, but me…the other day Kiragi saw me coming and his smile just vanished. All I want is for our sons to have the best life possible, but I can’t even do that without making the same mistakes my parents did. I was practically chained to my studies. Every hobby I have is just some form of betterment to make myself fit to be a legitimized bastard.” The force with which he said the strange word made Kiragi flinch.

“No one cares about that and you know it,” said Dad. It was harsh, but that was just how Dad was. He was like the reverse of one of those bladed fans Orochi carried around—steel hiding silk. He didn't let you feel sorry for yourself.

“How do you always know just what to say to encourage them?” Father asked. “Why is it so easy for you when it’s so hard for me?”

The oddness was more pronounced. If Kiragi thought about it, he could probably figure out what it was. He focused instead on how painful it was to swallow, because it was easier than acknowledging the truth. Carefully, quietly, he pulled out the pouch containing Dad’s pearl. He ran his thumb over the silver kinshi embroidery, the sky-blue silk, the red-and-white decorative knot hanging from the bottom. He placed it in front of the door and crept back to his bedroom, where he fished out a quill, some ink, and a sheet of paper. Holding back tears, he wrote,

Dear Father,

I’m sorry I’m such an awful son. I don’t deserve to have a family anymore, so I’m leaving. Please don’t worry about me.

I want you to have my pearl. I don’t deserve that, either. I’m sorry I made you act like Grandfather and maybe made you cry—

The paper tore under his quill. He’d strayed onto a wet spot. Another tear plopped onto the note, blurring the text, but Kiragi just wiped his face and kept writing.

—and I’m sorry I didn’t smile when I saw you and I’m sorry I don’t like history and math and chess and all the things you like. You won’t have to see me anymore though, so—

A commotion in the hallway caused Kiragi to drop the quill and splotch up the note. Someone was stomping through the house, throwing open doors. Searching. For him. He had to leave now.

This would be the last time he ever stood in his room, the last time he climbed out his window. It would be the last time he ever heard his family moving around the house. Everything he owned would be in his knapsack from this moment on.

The stomping was getting closer now. Whoever it was, they were running. Kiragi swung the knapsack onto his back and had to fight to maintain his footing. When had it gotten so heavy? He dove for the window, pushed it open wider, and had one leg on the sill when the door was thrown open.

Father’s hair was a mess. He carried a lantern in one hand; the red-gold light made it impossible to tell if his eyes really were red and puffy. In the other hand he held Kiragi’s pouch.

“Kiragi…?”

Kiragi burst into tears and ran to his father.

Father knelt down to take him in his arms, holding him tight, smoothing his hair down in a soothing motion. “Shh, shh, it's alright. I’m sorry, love.”

“No, I’m sorry! Please don’t send me away!” Kiragi could only blubber out his own apology, burying his face in his father’s shirt. Father just squeezed him tighter, saying not a single word about the tears and snot on his shirt or how dirty Kiragi was from laying on the bare ground.

Dad came running, and Forrest, and someone moved the lantern from the floor to the wall hook, and Dad was hugging both of them and telling Forrest to let Corrin know Kiragi was home so they could call off the search party, and Kiragi didn’t know where he’d been storing these tears because his eyes still burned from the last bout but he couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m sorry, Papa, I’ll do better!”

“So will I,” said Father. “I’ll find another way to teach you. We’ll make it fun. I’m sorry for expecting you to learn the way I was taught.” He squeezed Kiragi a little tighter. “No one should have to learn the way I was taught.”

(When he was older, Kiragi would think back to that moment and wonder what Father had meant by that, because no matter how teeth-grindingly boring his lessons were, they were never objectively terrible. But by that time Father was gone, and Kiragi had learned that asking about Leo's childhood was a swift ticket to the silent treatment.)

Dad rested a hand on Kiragi’s head. “You are still grounded, though.”

In his head he replayed the moment where he’d thrown the ink blotter. It soothed his guilty conscience to be handed consequences, even if it meant he’d be stir-crazy and grumpy tomorrow.

“Okay,” he said.

His dads tucked him into bed, kissed his head, and bid him goodnight. Dad took the lantern, and Father placed the pouch with the pearl in Kiragi’s hand before closing his fingers around it and giving a light squeeze.

In the morning, Kiragi found a small emerald and a note from Father beside the one he’d written. To new beginnings, it said. May home and family always be a place of refuge for you.

Kiragi added both gem and note to the pouch with the pearl.

He carried it with him, tucked beneath his haramaki, on the day their world ended: one final token of his parents’ love for him. Kiragi wouldn’t trade those gems for all the gold and diamonds in the universe, even when times grew tough. They possessed a value more profound than any price a jeweler could offer.

Chapter Text

It is the first time in a long, long while that Kiragi has slept in anything resembling a bed; it isn’t safe for Forrest to cast the spell Odin had taught them too frequently, and the last handful of timelines were ravaged within days of their arrival in the kingdom-that-could-not-be-named.

Kiragi and Forrest are invited to break their fast with the royal family the next morning. Leo—it is never any easier to think of him as Leo and not Father—has dark circles under his eyes. He’s not looking at Kiragi or Forrest directly, but there’s a mirror on the wall across from him that he’s using to sneak glances. He’s good at hiding it, but very little gets past Kiragi. He waves. Leo pretends not to notice.

Corrin and Azura are missing, off having one of their private chats about who knows what. Kiragi wishes they were here. He’s not afraid of Uncle Xander, but this far back in time he’s…different. Too stiff. The Uncle Xander in Kiragi's memory was stoic but kind, always ready to receive a running hug from his nephews and nieces. Now, he’s tense in a way Kiragi doesn’t remember him being, and he doesn’t seem entirely present, either. Aunt Camilla makes up for it by piling food onto his plate and Forrest’s, insisting they need to eat more and try this and have a bit of that, inquiring after their favorite foods so she can request them for supper. It's an incredibly kind gesture, especially since supplies are limited. Kiragi resolves to slip away for some hunting later. If he's lucky, he'll find a bear. It's not the best eating—it's gamey, and tastes a bit like metal—but it's filling, and a single good-sized bear would nicely supplement their supplies. 

When Elise arrives, she barely touches her food, too busy reeling off questions at Forrest before her bum has even touched the seat. “When do I get taller? How tall? Taller than Camilla? What’s Princess Sakura like? Are we friends in the future? She seems nice!”

“Give the poor dear space to answer, Elise,” Camilla admonishes. There’s no heat behind it, only fondness.

Elise ducks her head and scoots back into the center of her seat. “Sorry…”

“Don’t fret, I’m quite used to it,” says Forrest. “It’s endearing.”

Kiragi giggles a little when the compliment causes Auntie Elise to pout. “I’m fourteen! Don’t talk about me like I’m a child!” Her disgruntlement clears swift as a sun-shower as a thought occurs to her, visible in the way her mouth falls open and her eyes grow wide. “How old are you two?”

“I’m also fourteen!” Kiragi volunteers. It’s bizarre being the same age as his aunt, to have just reached adulthood with her, but in a weird way it also feels good to have something in common. All the experiences he used to share with her exist solely in his own head now. He remembers the day she was married. You wore the gown Forrest designed and made for you, he wants to say. Your hair reached halfway down your legs and your veil was studded with the most beautiful pearls Shiro and I could find. You were almost the same age as Uncle Xander is now. Your husband took forever to propose, so you asked him instead. He cried when he saw you in your dress. You kissed him before the priest said you could. Remember?

But of course she doesn’t. It hasn’t happened yet, and might not happen that way again. He can’t tell her the course her life will take because he doesn’t really know. Recreating their original timeline exactly as it was is probably impossible; some things have to be allowed to slip through the cracks in order to achieve what's most important. Their parents, their cousins, the survival of their aunts and uncles— all of those have to be prioritized over anything else.

Auntie Elise didn't live long enough to have children of her own. If the man who would be Elise’s sweetheart dies tomorrow, Kiragi will have to swallow his grief and carry on like it’s just another life lost to the war. He can't tell Elise that her husband gives the best piggyback rides, or that he prefers to let her do the talking at family gatherings, or that he once soothed a panicked horse and saved Ophelia from being thrown.

“You’re older than Leo?”

Kiragi blinks hard, hoping no one notices his lapse in attention. That question isn’t for him, he knows that much. He looks between Elise, who asked the question, and Father—Leo—who is regarding his potatoes like they just called him a nasty name. It’s a funny expression. Kiragi doesn’t think Father would appreciate it if he laughed, though.

“Only by a little,” says Forrest, who is politely not looking at Father while he sprints through the stages of grief. “It depends on the way you measure age. We elected to keep track of days rather than rely on the calendar, so there may have been some discrepancies in our calculations, but as near as I can tell I have lived a little over eighteen years.”

Xander clears his throat. “Forgive me if this is a sensitive topic,” he says, “but how old were you when you first traveled through time?”

“I must have been thirteen,” he says. He turns to Kiragi. “And you were…nine, correct?”

He nods. “Dad told Father they must have timed it wrong to have two unlucky numbers in the same year.”

Kiragi doesn’t really think that he and Forrest being as old as they were had anything to do with what happened. It hasn’t stopped him from prodding at the thought like a sore tooth on nights when he can’t get to sleep.

Elise has already moved on to her next question. While Forrest assures her she’ll grow taller (“of a height with Corrin, if I recall,”) Camilla slips another morsel of cheese and fresh-baked bread onto Kiragi’s plate. It’s humble fare by the standards of royalty, but the common soldier doesn’t have someone waking up before dawn to bake for them. It’s the kind he likes, with dried cranberries baked into it. The bread is still warm, and so is Aunt Camilla’s smile.

/////

Xander turns this new information over in his head. Five years, give or take, spent wandering between worlds in pursuit of a happy ending. Dread drags its cold fingers up his spine. The odds are slim that they spent a year on each attempt, but even five attempts is too many. And that's not even acknowledging the tragedy of it all. 

He thinks about Elise, only fourteen—an adult, but he cannot bring himself to see her as one—and tries to imagine Kiragi and Forrest even younger than that, coping with the destruction of all they'd ever known. Left wandering timelines with only their cousin and Odin, and then not even that. He thinks about Odin, too: Leo's faithful retainer, sworn to protect him with his life, almost certainly married in this doomed future to Camilla, and having to leave both his lord and his wife behind to die (or already dead?) to preserve the lives of his daughter, niece, and nephew.

He'd spoken with Laslow last night, and finally heard the whole story of his retainer's arrival in Nohr. Laslow had said it was a fate Odin had faced before. Was it any easier the second time, or was it a terrible reminder of his own childhood? Yet another rug yanked out from under him, another home destroyed?

It all comes back to the mysterious threat, the invisible enemy. Forrest has been adamant that there are things she can’t say, but she seems far more forthcoming this morning. Likely it is the topic; Elise is eager to hear more about this mysterious Ophelia, and Forrest is more than happy to describe her (blonde hair, purple eyes, petite, confident, rather eccentric).

“Ophelia,” Camilla says, staring dreamily into the distance. “What a beautiful name...Am I married, in your future? Do tell, I’m ever so jealous of Leo for knowing.”

Xander should stop his sister from prying further, but he is, admittedly, curious himself. He tells himself that Forrest volunteered the information before, and there’s no putting that particular jack back in the box. It’s a harmless question.

“You are indeed. Quite happily, too.”

Camilla hums. “Husband or wife?”

“You had a husband.”

His sister smiles. She would have been happy with either answer, Xander knows.

Father would approve of the match, Xander thinks. It is not the most prestigious, but Odin’s power is undeniable. If Forrest were not already chosen by Brynhildr, this Ophelia could have made an excellent candidate.

“Oh, oh, do Xander next!” Elise insists. “I’ll bet his wife is kind and gorgeous and super sweet!”

Kiragi speaks up, mouthful of bread, and Forrest is just a second too late in picking up on his intentions. “Uncle Xander doesn’t have a wife. He has a husband!”

Even Leo, so determined to examine every inch of his breakfast instead of making eye contact with his own children, looks up when Xander’s spoon slips from his fingers and falls into his bowl, splattering oatmeal and berries upon the table and Xander’s shirt. He curses, dabbing at the mess with a cloth. It’s already left a stain.

“Is everything alright, Brother?” Leo asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He has never told anyone his preferences, not even his family. He is the crown prince; he will marry whomever it will most benefit the kingdom to marry. And there are precious few noblemen of note who would content themselves with being a monarch’s consort when they could grasp power for themselves. His preferences do not matter, so there is no reason for his siblings—or anyone else, for that matter—to know of them.

There is also the matter of Camilla, who would never rest easy if a single one of her siblings was unhappy in their marriage. It would be poor politics for his sister to challenge the royal consort to a duel, but he knows she would do it for him.

It’s out there now, for everyone to hear. He has a husband. Will have, more accurately. It is already more than he dared to hope, and far too dangerous to dwell on. He clears his throat. “Eat your breakfast. We can’t spend all day here.”

Camilla picks up on his meaning and changes the topic. “Dear brother, didn’t you have something to say to Leo's darling children?”

“Yes.” He will show his gratitude later. For now, he turns to Kiragi. “From this day forward, until the end of this war, you shall serve as my squire.”

Kiragi makes a face, somewhere between confusion and distaste. “I thought you didn’t like squires.”

It’s Xander’s turn to pause. Kiragi waits. Perhaps he’s used to adults taking time to wrap their minds around a strange child knowing so much about them; perhaps, despite his general hyperactivity, he is capable of patience. He did say he hunted, did he not? “It’s not that I dislike them,” Xander finally says. “It’s a matter of security.”

His first squire had turned cloak and attempted to murder him. His second had left a vital part of his armor poorly affixed, so that it appeared to break mid-tournament. If Xander had not kept himself aware of every part of his body, he would not have noticed in time to turn the exposed side away from his opponent. After that, Xander had relied exclusively on Laslow, Peri, and later his siblings to help him don and remove his armor.

“You are strangers in this camp,” Xander continues. “I will need a reason to keep the two of you close. We can present it as a reward for saving Elise’s life. Forrest, I’d like for you to be royal physician. Is that acceptable to the both of you?”

“You honor me, Uncle,” she says.

It is at this point that Corrin and Azura arrive, shifting the focus away from Xander. It allows him time to collect himself more fully. The stain on his shirt has spread terribly; he doubts whether the berry juice will come out at all. He contemplates whether it is worth it to change. Everything he wears today will be concealed beneath his armor, but even this far from Castle Krakenburg, Xander can feel the weight of Father's disapproval. The shirt will have to go. He contents himself with the thought that the rest of it is not beyond salvaging for bandages or fabric with which to mend other garments.

In days long past, the royal family of Nohr had worn new outfits every day, discarding the old ones after a single use. It is an unfathomable amount of waste by today's standards. Xander was raised with an eye for reusing even the most expensive of cloth. He suspects that somewhere in the castle is a rag of worn down cloth-of-gold, the last scrap of some torn doublet his father wore to his own coronation.

To his left, Elise grumbles, "It's so unfair. I have five siblings, and I'm not getting a single sister-in-law?"

Kiragi glances at Azura for the briefest of moments. Both she and Corrin are confused, but Elise positively latches onto that glance. She nearly drags her hair through her food to clasp Azura's arm and shake it. "Really?! I'm so happy!" She babbles on, nearly unintelligible in her excitement, while poor Azura, overwhelmed, tries to listen to Forrest's explanation of the conversation leading up to their arrival while her arm is being yanked across the table.

It sets Xander's thoughts buzzing anew. He wants to know more about his future husband, even as he fears the knowledge might distract him further. He must remain focused on the war; there are greater things at stake, and everything depends on his securing victory for Nohr. So, best not to think about it overmuch. There will be time, when the world is at peace, to contemplate his future.

He dares not ask if he will marry for love or duty. He does not know what either answer would do to him.