For my memechild.

Chapter 1: Are You My Mother?

Morgan Abank was her name. Her father was Robin Abank, and despite that, she wanted to be just like Daddy. He was the greatest tactician, no, the greatest man to ever grace the planet. It was impossible for Morgan to remember anything else besides her name, her father, and her lifelong dream, and straining to remember only left her with frustration and a nasty headache. She was content with only these memories for a while, and took advantage of the royal library to fill the gaps in her brain, but after finishing off a hefty volume on human biology, she had to wonder – who was her mother?

She found Olivia first. The dancer was practicing alone in a secluded forest clearing where Morgan sometimes came to read. Olivia's back was to Morgan, so, to be polite and avoid startling her, Morgan called out to greet her.

"Hey, Olivia!"

Olivia jumped violently and whirled around, and she may or may not have pissed a little. Morgan ignored this and carried on.

"So, Olivia, I've got something I wanna ask you. Are you my mother?"

"Your...m-mother?" Just saying it out loud seemed to make Olivia's face burn hotter and redder than Arcfire. "Whatever gave you that idea? I'm married to Lon'qu, not Robin! How could I possibly be your mother? Unless... Unless..."

Morgan just shrugged and shook her head. "Hey, you never know."

Olivia looked Morgan up and down with a concerned frown. "Sorry, Morgan, but... I don't think I'm your mother."

Morgan encountered Panne on her way out of the forest. She carried a basket full of wild herbs with her. Morgan Abank fell into step with the taguel woman.

"Hi, Panne! Mind if I ask you something?"

"What would you like to know?"

"Are you my mother?"

Panne stopped and regarded Morgan with a curious gaze. "You don't appear to have any taguel blood in you, child."

"Are you sure?" Morgan asked. "Maybe...I got all the recessive traits?"

Panne shook her head. "No, if you were a taguel I'd definitely know," she said. "We have a different scent than humans, and your scent is absolutely human. Not a trace of taguel!"

"Oh, darn! I was thinking it'd be pretty fun to be a bunny like you and Yarne!"

Panne's eye twitched at the word "bunny", but she maintained her collected demeanor. "Get on with you, now. I need to gather all these herbs before dinner. Good luck finding your mother."

So both Olivia and Panne were out. Morgan's next suspect was Cherche, who, as usual, was tending to Minerva. Most of the Shepherds kept out of Minerva's way, as wyverns are generally much more dangerous and unpredictable than horses and the like, but Morgan Abank approached the dragon without a moment's hesitation. That had to mean something, right?

"Cherche! Hey, Cherche!"

Both Cherche and Minerva turned Morgan's way. Morgan approached and casually patted Minerva's snout.

"Nice Minnie! Good Minnie!"

Minerva seemed to scowl with disgust at the nickname.

"What can I do for you, Morgan?" Cherche asked.

"Well, I needed to ask you something," Morgan said. "Are you my mother?"

"...Hmm? Your mother?" Cherche cocked her head, perplexed at the suggestion. "What would make you think that? Robin is not my husband, and I've never had any sort of relations with him."

"Well, yeah, but something could happen," Morgan said. "Besides, Minnie here seems to like me! Don't you think that could mean we're related?"

Minerva snorted and gave Morgan the wyvern equivalent of a massive eyeroll.

"Ah... Well, not particularly, no," Cherche replied. She cracked a smile at Minerva's reaction. "And you're right, things happen in relationships all the time. However, let's just say...your father isn't really my type. I'm almost certain that we are not mother and daughter, Morgan. I'm very sorry!"

Cherche was out as well. Morgan was surprised to hear that the dragon rider didn't consider Robin her "type." Who wouldn't want to marry Robin? He was kind, and strong, and intelligent, and a genius, and super cool, and...

Morgan Abank's next maternal candidate was not far off. Sumia was in the nearby stable, brushing her pegasus before dinnertime as she did each and every day. Chrom was with her this time, leaning seductively on the stall door and talking to his wife with a face that practically screamed, "Let's get it on, baby." Not that they could, however, because Morgan bounded over to the stall, certain that Sumia was the chosen one. After all, Morgan had a knack for riding the pegasi, and could skillfully handle them at speeds and heights far too high for safety.

"Hi, Sumia! I've got a question to ask you!"

Chrom seemed annoyed and disappointed at the sudden appearance of his best friend's daughter, but busied himself instead with cleaning up Sumia's pegasus equipment. Sumia, ever the kind and forgiving queen, met Morgan with a smile.

"Hello, Morgan! A question for me? What could it be?"

"Are you my mother?"

Sumia was taken aback at the question, and Chrom's head snapped up from sweeping straw.

"Your mother? I'm very sorry, dear, but I don't think that's the case," Sumia said.

"I don't think it's the case, either," added Chrom. "You're Robin's girl, not mine, and Sumia is my wife. And if you were Sumia's daughter... Well, I'd have a few things to say to your father, I think."

Sumia laid her hand on Chrom's arm to soothe him. "There, there, Chrom, it's alright," she said, then turned back to Morgan. "Morgan, why don't you go and see your father? I'm sure he could clear things up for you."

Morgan Abank returned to the castle. Why didn't she ask her father before? She mentally berated herself for being silly and wasting her day. She headed to the library on the ground floor first, but she couldn't find her father anywhere amongst the thousands of books. She checked the tactics room next, but it was dark and empty. The last likely place to find Robin was in his bedroom, which was located right next door to hers. Morgan flung his door wide open.

"Father!"

The last thing she expected – or wanted – to see was her father plunged balls-deep in the royal princess of Ylisse, Lissa. There was an instant of startled, awkward silence before the shouting began.

"Oh, gods!"

"Morgan!"

"SORRY!"

Morgan slammed the door shut, rushed to her room, and slammed that door shut, as well. The image of her father giving Lissa the fucking of a lifetime was etched eternally into the eye of her virgin mind. As she headed to the bathroom to cleanse herself of the wretched experience, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the sink.

Morgan Abank was not stupid. She wasn't stupid, no, but everyone has moments where they don't seem to be the brightest gem in the Fire Emblem. How could she have possibly missed the color of her hair? It was plain to see that she was not, in fact, the daughter of Olivia, or Panne, or Cherche, or Sumia, or anyone else, because her hair color matched Lissa's perfectly! And the Brand on her hand – gods, why did she never think of it?

Unable to contain her excitement at having a real, live mother, she burst out of the room. She couldn't wait to deliver the news to her new mommy!