#chrom thinks if lissa want pet dragon / she could have it as she wants

[nammyfanficsblog]

Lissa wasn’t aware that she often met Frederick in his dragon form in the nearby forest. She thought that dragon was a big-sized-wyvern and a female one (She doesn’t know much about dragon and wyvern and imagine its as a female), she always like to play with it (by pulling its tail, ears, ride on it and pretend she was a dragon knight etc.) and even give a nickname for it as “Browny the Forrest dragon” 

She always tell Chrom and Frederick about it and her brother even encourage her to mount that dragon but Frederick said it wasn’t good idea cause it might harm her later..  

“Hey! Chrom! I met Browny again! We had a lot of fun time today!” Lissa said with really happy voice.

“Why don’t you mount it to your personal ride? and since you met her so often maybe she would let you do it easily“ Chrom encourage his sister

“I don’t think its a good idea, milord. To tame feral beast, you’ll require a lot of skill, Milady, even if she play with you, it doesn’t mean that she would let you mount her” interrupted by Frederick  (better not let her mount me or I’m doomed....) <--- inside Frederick’s mind 

[felldragxn]

- “Does it hurt, my child?”

- A snicker, from the shadows. Her eyes dart from side to side, searching and seeing nothing. She knows she’ll see nothing, and yet she refuses to cast her sights within. Finding nothing, they lower, to the body in her arms - it’s not real - and with what pitiful strength remains she pulls it closer to her, her fingers getting tangled in blue strands of hair.

- It’s not real, and yet it hurts just as much as it did back then.

- “I would’ve thought you’d gotten over it by now. Yet even after becoming a part of me - you still don’t seem to think like I do.”

- She closes her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. None of this is real. She’s not even here, now. Dragged out against her will, as if there was anything left to cling to. For so long she had slept, aware only of the initial slaughter, and then… silence. Peaceful, oblivious sleep, with no chance to fight back. So why now?

- “Why I woke you? Honestly, I was getting a bit bored all by myself.” It laughs in genuine amusement, a tone that chills her. She opens her eyes, as if expecting to see its figure in front of her, six eyes glaring at her without mercy from the shadows. What she sees, instead, is a change in that figure in her arms.

- The cry from her throat barely sounds human, as she registers Lucina’s form.

- “With nobody left to oppose me - well, now, there’s just no challenge to it.” The laugh changes from amused to mocking, and she sets the corpse - it’s not real it’s not real - down on the ground in front of her. Her daughter’s face serene, as if she’s merely sleeping. As if for years she hadn’t been suffering all on her own. Robin’s hand reaches out to touch her face, as Grima’s voice tells her, “Even Naga has fallen… You are all that remains~”

- She could refuse to believe it, knowing Grima would tell her such things in hopes of driving her to despair. She could deny and receive no comforting confirmation as to whether or not these are lies. She could accept it as truth, and despair knowing that she is the only one who remains in this broken world - a shell of herself, not even living.

- What flares up in her isn’t quite anger or sadness. She doesn’t really understand what drives her. She can’t be certain of anything - she can’t remember how to feel anything. Maybedetermined is the right word, as she stands, staring fondly down at her daughter, and draws her sword.

- “Oh, now, isn’t that cute,” it says, snickering as she sets off into the dark.

- She wanted to find Grima, so she would. Even if it didn’t matter. Even if she couldn’t really kill it. If she could pretend, just for a moment, that she had some sort of say in anything, the ability to change the fate that had befallen everybody she cared about.

- Gods. Gods.

- Chrom who had loved and trusted her. Lucina who had depended on her. Frederick who, despite his early suspicions, had put his life at stake to try and save her from her destiny. Her family back home - Emmeryn’s memory - her promise to end the war, no matter the cost.

- The cost was everything. The war was over, turned to slaughter.

- She ended up back where she started, and this time it was not Lucina. It was not merely one corpse. Numb, she turned around, and walked a different way.

- Her poor son, born into this life.. She had freed him to a better future -

- “Nothing will change,” their voice laughed, “nothing can.”

- Shut up.

- It hated her for that. It hated her for taking away its only connection to humanity beyond her. Because she could admit, at least, that she was no longer human. She was the Fell Dragon, from the moment she was born.

- She remembered vividly the deaths she had been forced to witness. Those three who had taken her in and allowed her to stay despite her Plegian ancestry, the ones who loved her dearly. She had loved them as family. And yet by her hand, each way slain. She could remember Chrom’s clear last words, Lissa’s hopeful smile which turned to confusion when she was inevitably betrayed. The look in Frederick’s eyes that told her he believed himself to be a failure, unable to protect any of them, unable to fulfill her final wishes.

- This was her fate, even if she had tried to deny it. But the her in that time might still have a chance.

- She stopped walking, and stared at her own body on the ground before her, lifeless and cold.

- She had long since become a walking shell of herself. Perhaps it was hopeless to believe she could accomplish anything. Maybe Grima was right after all, and her last effort at protecting her son would lead to nothing. Maybe Lucina was dead. Maybe the future couldn’t change. Maybe the world was doomed.

- It was all her fault. Peace?

- She stepped forward, gripping the sword in both hands, and stabbing it into the body in the ground.

- Reasoning?

- And again.

- Validar, a victim?

- And again.

- And each time, her emotionless facade began to break down. More force into each blow, more tears running down her face. More, more, more. The only sound she could hear were her own sobs.

- Arms wrapped around from behind her, as if to soothe her. It pet her hair, and whispered in her ear. It told her of all the ways they died. The Risen, the Grimleal. Sacrificing for their families, trying to kill her. All of it, all of it, “It’s all your fault.”

- Its laugh, like music, in her ears. A strangled cry escaped her in response. For a moment, it seemed like she could no longer hear either of the sounds as she raised the sword from theher on the ground, and drove it through the her that she assumed she was.

- It didn’t laugh anymore.

- “You have to find me, Robin,” it called, something off about its voice. But she fell to her knees, uncaring, hands shaking next to the sword. This wasn’t real. “You have to kill me, don’t you? Are you just giving up now?” This wasn’t real, and yet for years it had hurt so badly. What was the point. “How boring.” What was the point? “How miserable.”

- She fell to the ground, in place of the body she’d mutilated before.

- Why did it hurt so badly, when everything was already lost?

- Gods, she just wanted to rest.

- Naga, please let her rest.

- Please.

[felldragxn-a]

✘ (For Grima)

✘

- “Does it hurt, my child?”

- A snicker, from the shadows. Her eyes dart from side to side, searching and seeing nothing. She knows she’ll see nothing, and yet she refuses to cast her sights within. Finding nothing, they lower, to the body in her arms - it’s not real - and with what pitiful strength remains she pulls it closer to her, her fingers getting tangled in blue strands of hair. 

- It’s not real, and yet it hurts just as much as it did back then.

- “I would’ve thought you’d gotten over it by now. Yet even after becoming a part of me - you still don’t seem to think like I do.”

- She closes her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. None of this is real. She’s not even here, now. Dragged out against her will, as if there was anything left to cling to. For so long she had slept, aware only of the initial slaughter, and then… silence. Peaceful, oblivious sleep, with no chance to fight back. So why now?

- “Why I woke you? Honestly, I was getting a bit bored all by myself.” It laughs in genuine amusement, a tone that chills her. She opens her eyes, as if expecting to see its figure in front of her, six eyes glaring at her without mercy from the shadows. What she sees, instead, is a change in that figure in her arms.

- The cry from her throat barely sounds human, as she registers Lucina’s form.

- “With nobody left to oppose me - well, now, there’s just no challenge to it.” The laugh changes from amused to mocking, and she sets the corpse - it’s not real it’s not real - down on the ground in front of her. Her daughter’s face serene, as if she’s merely sleeping. As if for years she hadn’t been suffering all on her own. Robin’s hand reaches out to touch her face, as Grima’s voice tells her, “Even Naga has fallen… You are all that remains~”

- She could refuse to believe it, knowing Grima would tell her such things in hopes of driving her to despair. She could deny and receive no comforting confirmation as to whether or not these are lies. She could accept it as truth, and despair knowing that she is the only one who remains in this broken world - a shell of herself, not even living.

- What flares up in her isn’t quite anger or sadness. She doesn’t really understand what drives her. She can’t be certain of anything - she can’t remember how to feel anything. Maybe determined is the right word, as she stands, staring fondly down at her daughter, and draws her sword.

- “Oh, now, isn’t that cute,” it says, snickering as she sets off into the dark.

- She wanted to find Grima, so she would. Even if it didn’t matter. Even if she couldn’t really kill it. If she could pretend, just for a moment, that she had some sort of say in anything, the ability to change the fate that had befallen everybody she cared about.

- Gods. Gods.

- Chrom who had loved and trusted her. Lucina who had depended on her. Frederick who, despite his early suspicions, had put his life at stake to try and save her from her destiny. Her family back home - Emmeryn’s memory - her promise to end the war, no matter the cost.

- The cost was everything. The war was over, turned to slaughter.

- She ended up back where she started, and this time it was not Lucina. It was not merely one corpse. Numb, she turned around, and walked a different way.

- Her poor son, born into this life.. She had freed him to a better future -

- “Nothing will change,” their voice laughed, “nothing can.”

- Shut up.

- It hated her for that. It hated her for taking away its only connection to humanity beyond her. Because she could admit, at least, that she was no longer human. She was the Fell Dragon, from the moment she was born. 

- She remembered vividly the deaths she had been forced to witness. Those three who had taken her in and allowed her to stay despite her Plegian ancestry, the ones who loved her dearly. She had loved them as family. And yet by her hand, each way slain. She could remember Chrom’s clear last words, Lissa’s hopeful smile which turned to confusion when she was inevitably betrayed. The look in Frederick’s eyes that told her he believed himself to be a failure, unable to protect any of them, unable to fulfill her final wishes.

- This was her fate, even if she had tried to deny it. But the her in that time might still have a chance.

- She stopped walking, and stared at her own body on the ground before her, lifeless and cold.

- She had long since become a walking shell of herself. Perhaps it was hopeless to believe she could accomplish anything. Maybe Grima was right after all, and her last effort at protecting her son would lead to nothing. Maybe Lucina was dead. Maybe the future couldn’t change. Maybe the world was doomed.

- It was all her fault. Peace?

- She stepped forward, gripping the sword in both hands, and stabbing it into the body in the ground.

- Reasoning?

- And again.

- Validar, a victim?

- And again.

- And each time, her emotionless facade began to break down. More force into each blow, more tears running down her face. More, more, more. The only sound she could hear were her own sobs.

- Arms wrapped around from behind her, as if to soothe her. It pet her hair, and whispered in her ear. It told her of all the ways they died. The Risen, the Grimleal. Sacrificing for their families, trying to kill her. All of it, all of it, “It’s all your fault.”

- Its laugh, like music, in her ears. A strangled cry escaped her in response. For a moment, it seemed like she could no longer hear either of the sounds as she raised the sword from the her on the ground, and drove it through the her that she assumed she was.

- It didn’t laugh anymore.

- “You have to find me, Robin,” it called, something off about its voice. But she fell to her knees, uncaring, hands shaking next to the sword. This wasn’t real. “You have to kill me, don’t you? Are you just giving up now?” This wasn’t real, and yet for years it had hurt so badly. What was the point. “How boring.” What was the point? “How miserable.”

- She fell to the ground, in place of the body she’d mutilated before.

- Why did it hurt so badly, when everything was already lost?

- Gods, she just wanted to rest.

- Naga, please let her rest.

- Please.