A/N: Oh my god this is on Fire Emblem's fic rec page on tvtropes! Thank you very much for the rec, robotortoise! I am so happy right now you can't believe :D

Someone pointed out that Mikoto was actually against Hinoka training, not for it, so I went back and fixed that, for those of you who read the fic before the edit.

Ajanis-apprentice: Ryoma didn't show up last chapter because Mikoto wasn't in a position to give him the help or comfort he needed. He'll show up this chapter, though.

Anankos can form black holes, as you've mentioned, which is pretty much an insta-win button. The only reasons I could come up with for why he hasn't won already are him being a sadist who likes to play with his food before eating it (which seems to be canonical), and sheer arrogance. He doesn't need to corrupt Corrin to win, he's just trying to do it for lulz. He doesn't need to stir up a war between humans, he's just doing it because he wants them to suffer like he has.

017Blufield: You'd think they'd let Shura in after that, yes. My guess is they didn't for political reasons, since he's an enemy of Mokushu and they're allied with Mokushu.

The solution to the barrier spell was, in the end, very simple.

All spells drew energy from something to be cast; for mages and diviners, their spells pulled energy from a special ink used in their tomes. For healers, the energy came from the wood used in the construction of the stave or rod. Once the stores in the ink or wood ran out, the object was useless. The spell's strength, area of effect, and how long it was supposed to last affected how much energy it used in its casting. A spell like her sister's barrier would use all the energy in the stave, breaking it, and the energy would only last for a certain length of time before running out, causing the spell to dissipate.

So then, the answer was to switch its source to something with more energy. Namely herself.

Every living thing had power, energy, life. Life-binding was in essence just using that to fuel spells. It was powerful—it made offensive spells very powerful, defensive ones impossible to break, and since people replenish energy it never ran out—but draining. Lifespans were often shortened by it, and the strain of holding the spell often had detrimental effects on one's health. As such most deemed it too risky to use except in extenuating circumstances.

Mikoto closed her eyes, running a hand along the stave. She could see the thin, pulsing strands making up the spell. There were two major lines—one that would activate the spell, one that would maintain it once cast. Leaving the trigger alone, she followed the other line to its source, the core of the stave. Carefully, she undid the strands around the core, brought them out of the stave to her heart, and tied them to it. Now the spell would use the energy of the wood to be cast, breaking it, but the energy of her life to maintain.

It was really just a different, slower form of healing. Healing was simply transferring the energy stored in a stave or rod into a living being. All she was doing was not activating that energy at this moment.

The next morning—her duties meant she hadn't been able to actually work on the stave until quite late, and she'd spent most of her night doing just that—she ate and dressed as swiftly as she could, then hurried off to find Yukimura, keeping the stave carefully hidden in a sleeve.

"This is of Nohrian make," Yukimura said quietly when she found and summoned him to the council room, examining the stave carefully. "Where did you get this, Lady Mikoto?"

She'd planned her answer out in advance. "I received a vision of construction of a very powerful stave nearing completion in Nohr. I had Saizo steal it for me on a top-secret mission—so secret he'll deny ever going on it if you ask him. This stave can erect a barrier powerful enough to protect an entire country. My guess is the Nohrians would have used it to shield their homes will they warred us. But now, we can use it."

"Well, it couldn't have come at a better time, if it does what you say," Yukimura murmured, "I received a report that several young teenagers of one of the border towns assaulted and killed a Nohrian soldier—a noble, apparently. You can imagine what King Garon's doing."

"Mobilizing his army," she said grimly. "There's no time to waste. I'll have to activate the stave now, then fly out to the border to see if it worked."

Yukimura hurried off the back wall, where chests were stacked. He pulled a map of Hoshido out of one and rushed back to the table, spreading it before her. Mikoto took a deep breath, then carefully placed the top of the stave along the line representing the Bottomless Canyon. She began to trace around the borders of Hoshido, leaving a faint blue line behind, the sign that the spell was starting to activate.

Once she'd fully encircled Hoshido with the line, Mikoto thrust the hand holding with the stave into the air, the gem's soft glow turning into a brilliant shine as she shouted the spell's name.

"Barricade!"

It didn't work quite like she expected. When she arrived with her escort at the border town on pegasus, Mikoto saw the first of the Nohrian scouts stumbling about on the Hoshidan side of the border, dazed and very non-hostile. For a moment she frowned; she'd expected Barricade to keep enemies out completely, not drug them into complacency. Maybe it was a side-effect of life-binding the spell instead of casting it normally, or maybe she'd misread her sister's notes. But then she shrugged; either way, they weren't a threat anymore, and that was what mattered.

"M'lady," greeted the village elder, bowing awkwardly. The villagers had gathered out in the square, shaking and clutching shoddy, hand-made weapons, prepared to die fighting as the first casualties of the Nohrian invasion. His face was slowly changing back from its ashen pallor, and he was wringing his hat in his hands. "I…I don't know what to say. I am so ashamed of our youths' reckless behavior. When I saw the Nohrians arriving—I thought for sure—"

"Don't worry," she interrupted soothingly. "I won't let any harm come to my people. I've put up a barrier that saps their will to fight. You're safe."

He relaxed. "That's mighty kind of you. Um, would you like to stay for lunch? It's the least we can do to repay you."

"There's no need. I simply did what a good queen should," she responded, waving a hand.

"Well, if you're sure," he said, failing to hide his relief. Mikoto couldn't blame him—she knew that making a feast for her would likely have used up most of his village's food store. Not a situation you wanted to be in when it was winter. "Um—What—what should we do with them Nohrians?"

Her eyes swept over the disoriented Nohrian invaders, her gaze growing hard and cold.

"Do whatever you wish," she said dismissively, turning her pegasus away. The villagers would very likely mob together and beat the Nohrians to death, but it did not stir pity in her heart. She had no pity to give to the country that had stolen her family from her. She wouldn't go to war with Nohr for the sake of her people, but that didn't mean she was obliged to show them mercy.

Azura, the guards reported, didn't leave her room. They never heard a peep from the girl except, occasionally, her high, young voice lifting in song at night. She ate her food without complaint, kept her eyes down and voice respectful when speaking, and found ways to occupy herself during the day. She was, by all accounts, the perfect guest. A pity it didn't do much to improve general opinion of her.

"How are you, Azura?" Mikoto asked, kneeling opposite of her. She had returned from the border only a few days ago, and decided that it was more than time she spoke to her niece. The fog was mostly clear from her mind now, and she was determined to keep it like that. The most important way was to reconnect with her family.

The girl's golden gaze fell to the floor. "Fine, Lady Mikoto." Although she was now wearing Hoshidan clothes, the guards had said she expressed a preference for Nohrian ones. Mikoto had asked the seamstresses to make her some Nohrian-style clothes, and while they'd begun work, they were reluctant and insulted. Are our clothes not good enough for her? one had sneered.

Mikoto knew things would only get worse for Azura, and she wanted her to know she wasn't alone here. Placing a hand over the girl's, she said, "I'm pleased to hear that. I know adjusting to life here has been difficult for you, but should you ever need to confide in someone, you can always confide in me."

Azura shuffled her feet. "Why are you being nice to me?" she mumbled eventually. "I'm your prisoner."

"And my guest," Mikoto reiterated. "Your stay here may be longer than expected, so I want it to be as comfortable for you as possible."

"What does that mean?"

The queen bit her lip, trying to find a way to break the news as gently as possible. "Our attempts to trade you back to Nohr have not born fruit so far."

Azura's face crumpled. "They don't want me back?"

Mikoto swallowed. Azura had tried to keep her tone even, but her voice had shook, and she could hear the hurt in it. It reminded her again that despite her surprising maturity, she was still only six. "No, they don't. I'm sorry."

The blue-haired girl's hand tightened around Arete's pendant. "What…what's to become of me?"

The right thing to do was offer to let her go. The selfish thing to do was to keep her here regardless of what she wanted. It took more courage than Mikoto thought she had to say, "That's entirely up to you. If you wish, we can return you to Nohr, or send you to another country. You can stay here, too; you'd still be, in essence, a political prisoner, but I'd fight to get you more rights."

The young princess was quiet for a few heartbeats. "I think I want to stay," she finally said, and Mikoto exhaled, relieved. "I just…I'm tired of always moving."

"I'll do my best to ensure you don't have to move again," Mikoto promised.

Next, the queen visited her step-children. She stood outside the nursery door, where she knew Ryoma and Hinoka were visiting Takumi and Sakura, for a few minutes, working up the nerve to open it—she had essentially abandoned them for weeks, months even, when they would have needed a mother figure more than ever. Mikoto was a little afraid of their reaction to her in light of that.

When she finally opened the door to the nursery and stepped inside, a bundle of pale hair tackled her legs. Nostalgia hit her, and she inhaled sharply, remembering Kamui and his eagerness to see her.

But no, it was Takumi, his eyes teary. "You were gone!" he wailed. "Mommy, you were gone!"

Her heart broke a little at the panic in his voice. He wouldn't let go of her legs, so she had to bend at the waist to embrace him. "Shh," she murmured. "I know, I know. I went away for a while. I left you, and I'm sorry, so sorry." Guilt shot through her—he'd turned three recently, and she'd missed it. "I'm sorry. I won't leave again."

"Pwomise, Mommy?" came Sakura's timid voice. The little rose-haired girl was holding her doll loosely in one hand, her other sticking her thumb in her mouth. She toddled over to Mikoto, looking up at her with sad eyes. Mikoto swallowed the lump in her throat, gently drawing Sakura over to her.

"I promise."

Her eyes lifted to the other children, who had lingered in the back of the room. Hinoka looked sad by her siblings calling Mikoto their mother, but she gave her a somewhat hesitant nod. Ryoma's feelings were difficult to gauge. From what the servants had told her, the boy was plagued by nightmares now, and his eyes had a perpetual heaviness to them. But he had people willing to help him recover from his trauma, and at least he was still attending his lessons—if anything, he was more focused on them than ever, especially his swordfighting ones. Mikoto gently disentangled herself from Takumi and, taking him and Sakura by the hand, approached the eldest, whose gaze was on the ground.

"How are you, Ryoma?" she asked softly.

He ducked his head. "I'm…getting better. The nightmares aren't occurring as often. Lady Mikoto—" he stopped, swallowed, searching for words.

Finally, slowly, he continued, "I know you're supposed to just be my regent until I'm of age, but—I don't…I don't want to rule. Not yet."

"Four years is a long time, honey," she said, the endearment slipping out without her permission. He didn't seem to notice. "Once you're fourteen, I'm sure—"

"No!" His cry was vehement and startling. "You're better. You have more experience than me. Lessons are one thing, but actually ruling is another completely! F-Father always said a king must do what's best for his country, and that's—that's stepping down so you can rule. Because I don't know how."

"You'll learn," she reassured him. He shook his head.

"I've spoken to Yukimura. I know how bad our situation is, and I—what if I make things worse? Please, pass some sort of law, do something so you stay in power. I don't trust myself to lead! Not after…after…"

He sniffed, his lower lip quivering as he tried and failed to hold a stoic expression. Startled and concerned looks crosses his sibling's faces; Hinoka placed an arm on his shoulder, and Sakura and Takumi just stared as if unaccustomed to their big brother crying.

"Come here," Mikoto sighed, opening her arms. Ryoma went into them without hesitation.

"I f-froze," he mumbled into her shoulder, wet tears staining it. "I froze in C-Cheve, and now Kamui is gone. B-because…because of me. I c-couldn't pr-protect my brother, h-how can I protect a…a country?"

The fabric of her kimono was growing damp. Mikoto patted his back soothingly. "How about this," she whispered. "If four years from now you still don't want to rule, then I will pass a law where the heir can decide to work as an advisor before taking the throne from the regent. Then you'll have all the time you want to prepare yourself."

He nodded ferociously against her shoulder. His sibling gathered around him, forming a large knot of arms and embraces, and they remained like that for a long time.

Her coronation was held seven days after the new year. The throne room was crowded with attendants, nobles and royal guards and merchants. The doors were left open, and the peasantry were gathered in the streets outside, necks craning to see past the heads in front of them. Mikoto was dressed in all white, in garments similar to a priestess but much finer, and the crown was heavy on her head. One of the diviners cast a spell on her to amplify her voice, and she launched into her speech.

"My people," she began. There was no need to quiet the crowd; they'd fallen silent as soon as she'd risen from her kneeled position before the high priest. "I come before you as your regent and queen in dark times. We have found ourselves faced with an enemy superior to us in numbers, military, and above all tactics; an enemy that is underhanded and wants nothing more than our defeat.

"The barrier I erected, however, will keep us safe for many years. I know many of us want revenge on Nohr for their murder of my late husband and kidnapping of my beloved son. But I have seen what revenge can do to people," she paused, thinking of Anankos consumed by madness and hate for humanity, of Garon throwing away the lives of his people, "and it is ugly. We are better than that."

Her biggest decision had been what to do about Nohr. It was tempting to have her people operate on guerilla tactics, raiding them and then retreating through the barrier where no harm could be done to them. But a war couldn't be won that way. They would never win without striking deep into the heart of Nohr; their military wasn't big enough for an operation like that, and they didn't have enough talented soldiers she would trust to lead a squad to assassinate Garon. She would not spend her people's lives like money—and Nohr, much as she detested them, wasn't the real enemy. Anankos was, and she needed to save her country's strength for him.

"War is not the answer we should give them. War is what they want. Don't let hate twist you. Do not forget what Nohr has done—but do not dwell on it. I have life-bound our barrier so that you, my people, could live in safety. I beseech you to relax and enjoy life's bounties; let those of us in charge worry about what comes next.

"I am aware that my recent declaration of an embargo on trade with Nohr will cause trouble for those of you who depend on trade for profit," her eyes drifted to the representatives of the merchant clans, who were scowling unhappily, "and I say this: sacrifices must be made for the future of our country, our children. And those sacrifices will not be forgotten. As your queen, I will guide you through the upcoming hard times. I will be the queen you deserve, the queen you need. Our country is a gem, and I will polish it until it shines."

She stepped down, to a smattering of applause. Her words were pretty, but the people were uncertain about her ability to actually govern them without her husband at her side, thanks to Hoshido's patriarchal nature. Still, with the help of Yukimura and Ryoma, Mikoto was confident she could do a good job.

After, there was mingling. There were the daimyos and minor lords, most of whom she'd met already but greeted again. There was Chief Fuga, head of the Wind Tribe, someone she'd heard of but hadn't met, who had visited to pay his respects to his best friend's widow. There was Kotaro, head of Mokushu, a small vassal country to Hoshido much like Cheve to Nohr, whose leering gaze sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

Chief Kenta of the Fire Tribe was also there. "Sumeragi was a fine man and a skilled warrior," he told her when she expressed her surprise at his presence. "He commanded a great deal of my respect. King Garon's actions have painted him a coward in my eyes and the eyes of my people."

"Does this mean you would support us in the future?" she dared to ask.

He grunted. "It means I'm more likely to support you than them. But I won't have my people back a weak nation, even if I dislike their enemies. You must prove yourself a capable ruler first, Queen Mikoto. If you conduct yourself anything like you did during your stay at the Fire Tribe six years ago, however, I have no doubt you will."

The next ones to speak with her were the heads of the merchant clans. Mikoto schooled her face into a carefully serene expression.

"Queen Mikoto," began one, "I have to say I am very disappointed with your policy of non-profit."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said politely. "But the Nohrians have shown themselves to be an enemy of Hoshido. We cannot support a nation that would see ours ruined."

"Still, there are surely other methods of punishing them, ones that do not cut into our revenue—a revenue we already expressed displeasure with, if you recall."

"I have not forgotten. I have also not forgotten that your greed set this chain of events in motion," she responded sharply. "Your demands for more money put us in a position where our options were destroying the fragile peace between our countries or civil war. A position Nohr could take advantage of, and did. A position I have done my best to rectify.

"We barely avoided a war. We would not have won that war, but we can starve them to death. That, however, will only work with your cooperation. Doing otherwise would suggest your loyalties lie with Nohr. Is that what you wish?" she finished, letting ice seep into her words.

They glared a moment longer, then backed down. "No, Your Majesty. It isn't."

The merchants slunk off with their tails between their legs, and Mikoto turned back to the food. Her final notable guest of the coronation was a boy, fifteen, with pale hair and green eyes. It took Mikoto a moment to place him as the late Duchess Hiromi's son, Izana.

"Duke Izana," she greeted cordially. "It's good to see you. Allow me to express my condolences for the passing of your mother."

He kissed her hand. He may have been of age, but he looked so young, the fancy clothing and adult mannerisms simply accentuating his youth rather than hiding it.

"Your condolences are appreciated," he said, sound a little choked. "Would you indulge me with a walk?"

She accepted and, taking his arm, they departed for the royal gardens, Reina following as always. It was warm for a winter's day, the sky clear and the ice and snow briefly melted. If it weren't for the bare trees, one could have mistaken it for spring.

"I must say you looked stunning, Lady Mikoto," Izana remarked as they walked among the winter flowers. If his blithe was forced, she could not tell. "A pity you cut your lovely hair—but perhaps not, it means mine doesn't have any competition anymore! But your beauty shines through nonetheless, especially the beauty of your character."

I see he takes after Duchess Hiromi, she thought. "That's very kind of you."

"Speaking of which, I have a message for you!"

Again, she was reminded of the late duchess, and that message two years ago. She repressed the urge to groan. Not again. What now, Anankos?

But to her surprise, Izana instead said, "Now, I know Mother's message gave you a terrible fright, but don't worry! This one is different. It comes from the Astral Dragon Moro."

"I've never heard of Moro or these Astral Dragons," she interrupted, curious. Vallite lore had been mostly centered around their own history and that of Anankos, and while Hoshido's libraries had more on the subject of dragons, they still only covered the major deities. As a bookworm, the lack of solid information about the past was frustrating.

"They prefer it that way!" That was an invitation for you to explain who or what they are, she thought, irritated and amused in equal measures. "Now, the message is:" Izana cleared his throat and said, "'Fear not for your son, for we will watch over him.'"

Mikoto stopped walking, a lump suddenly rising in her throat. Her eyes burned and her heart ached in her chest. "I thought the gods had abandoned me," she confessed in a small, hushed voice.

"They can be detached, but they don't abandon humans. They just rarely act directly unless destruction is certain. So it's actually a good thing they aren't interfering, otherwise we'd all be completely doomed!"

The information that things weren't hopeless against Anankos was nice, but Mikoto was far more occupied by something else. Her son wasn't going to be alone and abandoned in Nohr as she'd feared—the gods would still look out for him. Thank you, she breathed silently to this mysterious Moro and the Astral Dragons, then repeated it out loud to Izana. He smiled and waved it off cheerfully, and, message delivered, they returned inside.

Instinct sent Mikoto out for a walk by the lake that night. She smiled grimly when she arrived. There was a faint shimmer over the water, a slight distortion of the air. Only one who knew about the Vallite invisibility spell would have recognized it.

"Hello, Anankos," she said, careful to keep her voice pleasant.

She was unsurprised, though disappointed, that her barrier didn't affect water—water was a portal for Vallites, unstable and not exactly actual territory. But her barrier did affect the land around it. Anankos could send soldiers through the water, but they couldn't step into Hoshido without crossing Barricade.

The water rippled, the light angled, and suddenly she could see the soldier he'd sent. She'd expected him to use one of her loved ones—but no, this was just a regular grunt. Its glowing purple eyes fixed hatefully on her.

"You," it hissed. "You—you—"

He was too angry to even speak properly. Her smile turned smug. "I'm sorry," she said sweetly, placing a hand over her heart, "Did I ruin your little plan?"

"You lowly human bitch!" Anankos's puppet shrieked, sending a startled owl into flight. "You have the nerve to taunt me? You have the nerve to put this shield up? Your death will be as agonizing as I can make it! I will kill you and bind your body and soul to my service for all eternity! When I break this—"

"You won't. You know how a life-binding is," she interrupted. "So long as the caster lives, the spell can never be broken by outside forces. Weakened in places—but not broken, not even by you. Only the caster themselves, or their death, can do that."

"You will never maintain it," Anankos sneered, changing tactics. "You're just a pathetic human. Your species is incapable and weak. You will die to your own stupidity before even five years have passed!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Because, Anankos, so far you have made the same mistake people have been making my entire life," she hissed. "You underestimated me."

The puppet shrieked and, drawing its weapon, charged forward. Mikoto couldn't help stepping back—she suddenly realized she didn't know if her barrier would work on the undead or possessed. But it did, albeit in a different way, shimmering to life to throw the puppet back. It staggered back, then threw its head back and screamed a chilling scream of pure, unadulterated fury.

As suddenly as it started, it cut itself off, going eerily silent as its head snapped back down to pin her with its dead gaze.

"Know this," Anankos finally snarled. "what constitutes a victory for you is a mere inconvenience for me. You have decades at most to live, while I have centuries. So enjoy your peace while it lasts, mortal; it shall not last long. And if you are still alive when the day of my reckoning comes, I will ensure you are among the first casualties."

And the puppet left before she could respond, the water shining and swallowing it whole, leaving Mikoto alone by the lake.

Uneventful months passed. Mikoto, Yukimura and Ryoma worked hard at stabilizing her reign. Nohr tried and failed to breach Mikoto's barrier, and had to retreat to nurse their wounded pride—Hoshido was safe. Kamui's sixth birthday came, and his family, along with Azura, gathered at the private shrine. His younger siblings placed gifts of sweets at the base, the bell was rung, and heads were bowed as they prayed for Kamui's safety and swift return. Mikoto couldn't help bitterly recalling what they'd been doing last year, picnicking in a field, all her children present and her husband alive.

If she'd known a year ago what she knew now…

She blinked back the tears pricking at her eyes. Gods, how could she have not run out by now? Sensing her sadness, the four royal children gathered around her, offering her wordless comfort. Azura hovered on the fringes of the group—as Mikoto had feared, once the Hoshidans realized they couldn't trade her back for Kamui, they'd become bitter and resentful towards her. Keeping her with the royal family was the best way to ensure her niece's safety; no one would want to attack and risk harming one of them by accident. It would also, hopefully, create better relations between her and the royal children, which would make life easier for her once Mikoto passed. Still, the girl was an outcast, and she knew it.

"Azura," she called, encouraging her over. Azura hesitated, then slowly approached, taking Mikoto's offered hand. Mikoto squeezed it tightly, reaching with her right hand to take Ryoma's left. The other children moved around to mimic her, forming a line of clasped hands. Six sets of eyes fixed on the shrine.

"We will find you," Mikoto whispered to the ghost of her son, absent but ever-present in the minds of his family.

"No matter how long it takes, we will find you, Kamui."

A/N: For those wondering, the way I have life-binding set up, Mikoto's barrier is at peak strength now, but will grow weaker over the years, thanks to a combination of efforts from Nohr and the drain on her life. Eventually it won't be able to block the undead. That's why it stopped the puppet now but not Nohr's Faceless and Anankos's soldiers later. That's going to be explained in the epilogue, but I knew that question was probably going to get asked a lot, so I'm pre-emptively answering it.

Also I hate writing speeches and I'm never doing it again. That was painful.