I've been gone for a long time; I'm well aware, but news of the new fire emblem game has reinvigorated me. I'm re-submitting a more polished version of what I have for this story thus far and then I intend to continue it to the best of my ability. Bear with me and tell me your favorite pairings as always. I will also upload this on my AO3 account, on which I have the same user name if some of you prefer that.

Lissa sighed, glancing about as she trailed behind the never-weary Frederick and her older brother. Each step made her feet throb with teeth-gritting pain. She didn't need to look to know she'd developed blisters the size of fat bumblebees. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to stop and massage her poor feet. However, she was the one who had insisted on coming along on her brother's walk though, so she bit back her complaints and wallowed silently, hoping that by some miracle the two men would decide to take a break.

As if Naga herself had heard the princess's prayers, Chrom stopped abruptly and gazed out across the lush field to the group's left. Lissa turned her head as well, wondering what had caught her brother's attention. All she saw was grass intermingled with the odd daisy or lady slipper, stretching out to the horizon. Lissa knew Chrom had no interest in the flowers—that was more her area of expertise.

"What is it milord?" asked Frederick, breaking the silence.

The blue-haired prince unwittingly ignored his knight, stepping into the knee-high grass and taking long strides away from the road. His eyes sought something in the distance, but Lissa could not say what.

"Milord?" Frederick repeated, immediately following after his charge. Lissa rolled her eyes at Frederick's typical overbearing antics but followed all the same. Her brother did not have a habit of taking detours into random fields, but Lissa found herself less curious than hopeful. If it gave Lissa the opportunity to stop and rest for a moment, she didn't care what Chrom did.

It took Lissa and her aching feet a bit longer to reach Chrom than it did Frederick. The two spoke in low, serious tones, but Lissa could only catch the tail end of their conversation by the time she was within hearing range.

"-sworn I heard something coming from this direction," explained Chrom.

"I did not hear anything milord; perhaps you've over-worked yourself. Come, we must get you to bed this instant. There's a town not far off if memory serves me well," said Frederick.

Lissa tuned out when Frederick the mother hen began fretting over her brother. The meadow was quite peaceful-not breathtaking like the manicured castle gardens, but idyllic. She continued to gaze about herself when she noticed a black object that stood out against its green backdrop. Curious, she made her way over to investigate and, upon realizing what it was, let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Chrom and Frederick came running, swords drawn and ready to protect the young princess. Upon finding no threat, the two sheathed their swords and Frederick launched into a lecture on decorum. Before the lecture could begin in earnest, Chrom motioned for Frederick to be silent.

Nestled in the tall grass near a clump of sky-blue forget-me-nots was a young woman with hair as white as the clouds overhead. Long, snowy eyelashes cast shadows on pale cheeks and colorless lips curved downwards at the corners in a solemn frown.

It was a scene out of a fairy tale Emmeryn once read to Lissa. She'd been terrified at first, certain she'd discovered a fresh corpse, but now she couldn't tear her eyes away from the young woman. What a pretty picture she painted. Surely she owed her unnatural stillness to some manner of curse and lay here for decades, waiting on her prince charming.

Lissa stood, transfixed until Frederick pulled her to the side, away from the unfolding fairy tale. Such morbid sights were not fit for a young aristocratic lady, of course.

Chrom leaned in closer to the young woman, scanning for any signs of life. He reached for her wrist, intent on feeling for a pulse, but the sound of faint breathing stopped him.

"She's alive!" he exclaimed, checking her pulse for good measure. At once, he could feel the soft thudding of blood coursing through a very much alive body.

Lissa broke out of Frederick's grip and dashed to the other side of the young woman. The fairy tale was over, but Lissa knew her place in reality. She brought her staff down from where it rested on her right shoulder and grasped it in both hands. She was ready to provide healing should it be necessary.

In response to Chrom's touch, the young woman's eyes fluttered open to reveal a pair of blue-flecked grey irises. The color reminded Lissa of large, dark rain clouds that always foretold a particularly nasty storm—the kind that made her hide under mounds of blankets as a kid.

"Are you alright?" Chrom asked, ever the more conscientious of the Exalt's siblings. Now she felt silly, standing statue-like above both of them, gripping her staff with white knuckles.

The young woman nodded, but said nothing. She gazed about, looking somewhat dazed, as though her mind hadn't managed to separate itself from the realm of dreams yet.

Chrom stood and offered her his hand. The woman caught sight of his outstretched hand and a small smile graced her lips. She had a nice smile—a little crooked and somewhat uncertain, but genuine. The fairy tale curse was broken and Lissa found herself smiling as well.

The woman took Chrom's hand without hesitation and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Lissa noted she stood a few inches taller than herself. Color was returning to her features now, though her countenance still held an ethereal quality to it. Perhaps it was just the way her bone-white hair caught the sunlight. In any case, she looked healthy and Lissa stowed her staff once more.

"Thank you…Chrom," she said, withdrawing the hand he'd yet to let go.

"You're welcome," he replied with a warm smile.

There was a beat wherein the two just stared at each other. They were both smiling, but there was something heavy in the air that made Lissa feel distinctly out of place—like she'd been left out of some joke that held more meaning than she could grasp.

"You should be more careful where you take your naps; we thought you were dead for a moment there!" Lissa chided playfully, intent on diffusing the odd atmosphere. The young woman grinned sheepishly and Lissa had succeeded.

"What's your name?" Chrom questioned.

The young woman opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion and she frowned. "I-my name is…I don't remember," she said. She chewed her lip and her frown grew deeper.

"That's odd; you know my brother's name but not your own?" asked Lissa.

"I suppose so," she said, still looking troubled. She glanced down at the ground and caught sight of a mysterious marking on her right hand. It was deep violet in color; six menacing eyes that stared back at her. A wave of unease washed over her and she stuffed the hand into one of her cloak pockets.

Frederick had been silent for, but now took action against the potentially threatening stranger. He pushed Chrom and Lissa behind him and held the point of his sword the young woman's neck.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice harsh, "and why do you claim to know milord and not yourself?"

To her credit, she didn't look particularly threatened by the sword at her throat. Quite the opposite; she seemed further perplexed. "Know him? I…don't know. I don't know him. At least, I don't think I do; his name just came to me." She looked much more distraught at the thought. "Please, do you know me at all? Could you tell me who I am?" she asked, her expressive eyes boring into Chrom, pleading for answers.

Chrom frowned and felt a pang of sympathy deep in his heart. She looked so alone and confused; he couldn't help but pity her. Meanwhile, Lissa's heart melted seeing the desperation on the young woman's face. Even Frederick was affected and he let his sword drop from her neck.

Frederick rarely wavered in performing his duty, but he did in this moment. Had the woman been a true threat, Lissa wasn't sure if Frederick would have it in him to kill her, looking lost as she did.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but this is the first time I've seen you," Chrom admitted with a grimace.

Her face fell further and she closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply in and out. When she opened her eyes once more, she appeared much calmer. Lissa wondered if such a simple exercise could have such a profound effect.

"It's okay," she said at last-more to herself than to the three around her.

"Do you truly have no recollection of who you are?" asked Frederick. He remained wary, though his tone was a bit kinder this time.

She shook her head. "I do not."

"It sounds like you have amnesia or something," suggested Lissa. All eyes were on her now and she felt the need to show off a bit. "I was just reading a book about it the other day. It's often caused by a head injury…I could check to see if you have one."

"Please."

Lissa stepped closer and motioned for her to turn around. She did so without a fuss and Lissa ran her fingers through the woman's tangled locks, feeling for any large bumps or gashes. To her surprise, she found none.

Defeated, she stepped away.

"Did you find anything?" the woman asked, turning to face them all once again.

Lissa shook her head. "You don't seem to have any injuries-not any recent ones at least."

Frederick's hand tightened around his sword's hilt. This was further evidence the woman was faking. To what end? He did not know, but he would not wait to find out.

Before he could move, Chrom spoke up.

"Is there any way you can cure it?" Chrom asked, eying the Lissa's staff.

Lissa frowned. "Sorry, my magic doesn't work that way. Most types of amnesia just sort of go away on their own…eventually...I think."

"If it is amnesia that is," Frederick muttered. Lissa stuck her tongue out at him.

Chrom ignored the two and spoke once more to the young woman. "We're headed towards a town a little ways away from here and I think you should accompany us. Perhaps someone there will know who you are."

Frederick bristled at that. His young lord was much too trusting. Still, it would not do to act against his charge, so he remained polite. "I don't mean to offend, but we have no proof that we can trust you, amnesiac or not," he said.

For the first time, the woman fixed her eyes on Frederick and he squirmed a bit under her heavy gaze. "I understand, but would you mind pointing me in the direction of this town? I'd like to go there all the same," she explained.

"I would not have a confused lady wander this land on her own. There are many bandits about of late and it is our duty as Shepherds to see that our people are safe," Chrom asserted. He respected Frederick's judgment, but it had proven faulty before. The knight meant well, Chrom knew, but he had to trust his gut this time.

Frederick was thoroughly conflicted now. He did not wish to go against his lord's words, but he was still suspicious of the stranger. Seeing his dilemma, the young woman spoke. "You may treat me as a prisoner if it would reassure you," she suggested.

"We will do no such thing! Come on, we're leaving before these two have a chance to debate this any longer," declared Lissa. She grabbed the young woman's hand and tugged her back towards the road. In all the excitement, she forgot about the pain in her feet.

"Milady, wait!" called Frederick, dashing after the aggravated princess with Chrom hot on his heels.

Lissa made it abundantly clear that she would not allow the woman to be treated as a criminal. In the face of the princess' stubborn streak, Frederick relented. Nevertheless, he resolved to keep a close eye on the mysterious woman. She'd had ample opportunity to lash out at this point so perhaps she was indeed harmless.

Lissa beamed at him and dropped the woman's hand, turning eagerly towards her. "Now that that's settled, I'm Lissa! The worrywart over there is Frederick; and-as you know-that's Chrom, my brother." She gestured towards each person as she introduced them.

"Pleased to meet all of you," said the young woman with a smile, "you said you were Shepherds, right? May I ask why you're all armed to the teeth to guard animals?"

Lissa giggled and Chrom laughed as well. "It can be a dangerous job," he replied, "what about you? Do you think you have any experience fighting? I noticed you carry a tome."

She ran her fingers over the book at her side, hoping to evoke a memory. The tome felt well-worn but she had no recollection of ever using the object in battle. Her fingers slipped from the tome and brushed another object, obscured from sight by the book. Intrigued, she wrapped her hand around it too hurriedly and winced in pain.

Lissa gasped when she saw blood drip onto the ground from a fresh cut in the young woman's hand. She clutched a dagger about as long as her forearm, the edge biting into her palm. She didn't notice she was still gripping the blade until Lissa pried her fingers away from it and began to cast a spell with her staff. The dagger clattered to the ground, but the young woman was not fazed.

"Ashe!" she exclaimed, startling the Shepherds, "my name is Ashe. I just remembered it!"