It all began with a single snowball.

Morgan, all of nine years old now, had been delighted at the amount of snow in the courtyard, and had come close to dashing out before Frederick, fussing over him like a mother hen, had bundled the little prince up in a smaller version of his mother's coat and a matching scarf and mittens that the knight had knitted himself.

Lucina, two years older and much better prepared, had been out before him, already busily digging in the snow to put together a small fort. Morgan had watched her for awhile, and even pitched in to help for a few minutes before he got bored and went to make snow angels and other such figures. Then, as he lay in the middle of a dragon-shaped indent, an idea had struck him. Slowly, carefully, he had packed a snowball and taken aim. Then, he let fly.

The snowball struck Lucina squarely in the back, and she had whirled around to find the culprit. Spotting Morgan giggling, she glared. "All right, little brother, you asked for it!"

They had run all around the courtyard, giggling and pelting each other with snowballs, until one of Morgan's shots at Lucina had gone just a littletoo high-and hit their father, rounding the corner of the colonnade arm-in-arm with his wife, squarely in the face.

There was a moment of silence as Chrom had reached up a hand to wipe the snow from his eyes, and Lucina and Morgan had waited with bated breath, worried that he was about to shout.

Chrom, however, had let his face break into a broad, wicked grin, and raised his eyebrows at Morgan. "I accept your challenge."

And just like that, the skirmish became a battle. Chrom and Lucina took refuge behind Lucina's fort and began stockpiling snowballs while Morgan and his mother beat a tactical retreat under their unerringly accurate barrage. Crouched behind an ice-covered hedge, Morgan looked up at his mother. "So, mom, what do we do?"

Robin, grinning broadly, reached into the sleeve of her coat, pulling out a small book bound in green. "We counter-attack. I'll put up some cover, and you move around the side. The wall only covers them from the front, so if you can get into a flanking position, like by the fountain... pow!" She mimed throwing a snowball, grinning broadly.

Morgan giggled. "Got it!"

Robin leaped up, vaulting over the hedge with her coat flowing out behind her, and raised a hand, holding the book open close to her chest. A gust of wind kicked up into a gale, whipping a curtain of snow in the faces of their "foes," as Morgan ran as fast as he could to the frozen-over fountain. Once there, he began pelting his father and sister with snowballs.

They were well into it when Frederick emerged from the direction of the castle. "Milord, the guests have-oof!"

Four snowballs struck him dead center. The knight brushed them from his coat with an expression of affronted dignity and let out a long-suffering sigh. "As I was saying, your guests have arrived, and dinner is almost ready."

"Oh, all right," said Robin, brushing her hair back out of her eyes. She helped Chrom to his feet, brushing snow from his cape, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "That was fun, wasn't it, love?"

"I enjoyed it," said Chrom. He moved forward, sweeping up a giggling Morgan, and lifted the boy onto his shoulders. "We should do it again sometime."

"I have all kinds of ideas," said Robin eagerly, waving a hand in the direction of the courtyard. "If we enlist the Shepherds to build forts, we can get much better tactical positions. And I might be able to convince a couple of the pegasus knights to drop snow on other people's heads..."

Morgan looked down at Lucina, smiling. The winter was sure to get much more interesting...