Faaaaamily. I love it. This is practice for a longfic I hope to write involving this scenario. Enjoy!

(And happy unofficial birthday, Robin!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. All associated characters and setting are property of Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

"Look out!"

Morgan reeled back at his sister's warning, falling on his rump soundly as she leapt in front of him. Falchion rang out as it smashed into the bandit's blade, and with a mighty heave, Lucina succeeded in shoving the larger man back.

Acting fast, Morgan rolled, groping for his sword as he did so. He did not have time to fully draw it before the man was ducking past his sister and stabbing down at him. Using the sheathed blade, Morgan managed to tangle it in his attacker's legs, bringing the armour-clad giant down on top of him. He grunted in pain as the weight slammed into him.

Moments later, he felt a jerk as his sister's blade slammed into the man's cheek, driving through his jaw. Lucina jerked the blade down, cutting bone and tissue as she sliced into the throat, sending a fountain of blood over them both.

Spitting a gob of blood out, one that may have belonged to either of them, Morgan gasped for breath. A split-second later, Lucina was at his side, shoving at the corpse. Gathering all of his remaining strength, Morgan collected himself and added his strength to the effort. The body rolled free, and he sat up.

A quick examination revealed no open wounds, it seemed the blood had not been his own after all. He was a bit banged up, both nothing seemed to be broken. Well, that was a relief.

"Thanks Luc—" he began, only to be cut off when she rounded on him, expression stern.

"You have to be more careful! This isn't a game, Morgan! If we die here—if we fail—we don't just fail ourselves! We'll fail...fail…"

Morgan's brow furrowed slightly in confusion as she trailed off. Staring up at his sister, he watched her deflate, a long sigh escaping her as she seemed to sag. After a moment, she reached down, offering him a hand up. He took it, allowing her to haul him to his feet, still feeling confused by the sudden intensity of her lecture.

"Lucina? Are you okay?" he asked, tone low and serious.

"Of course. I...was simply worried."

"Look, I'm fine, okay? So are you. It's okay."

She rounded on him, her patented Big Sister expression in full swing. "But you wouldn't have been if I hadn't been here! You were wide open! He would have killed you!"

"But he didn't. I'm fine thanks to yo—"

Morgan's words were cut off by a blast of magic shooting past his cheek. The sudden electricity in the air made his hair stand on end, his breath shortening as the air around him seemed to thicken in response to the spell's intensity. Behind him, he heard an ear-splitting scream as the magic found its mark. Magic that powerful had to be...

"Uh, hello Mother," he stammered out, glancing sheepishly to his parents.

"What on earth are you two doing?" Chrom demanded, frowning at them both. "Focus, before one or both of you gets hurt!"

"Yes, Father," they chimed in unison. He was right, of course, and without further ado, they launched themselves back into the fray. Morgan kept a wary eye on his sister, but she seemed as intense as ever, so he quickly forgot the ordeal, instead turning his mind to more important matters.

Like not dying.

It was an exhausted party that dropped into camp that night. Those Shepherds who had not been involved in clearing the town of bandits welcomed them back warmly, ushering the wounded off to the triage tents, and greeting the rest with hot meals and warm pallets.

The camp was large, with the commanders' tent stationed securely in the centre. Next to it, though still stationed a fair distance away, was the medics' tent, granting as much safety to the wounded and their leaders as they could, out here in the wild. Having sustained minor injuries in the fighting, Morgan found himself waiting on Lissa's handiwork, only allowing her to examine him once those worse off than him had been seen to.

Both of his parents peeked in at different points, but he waved them off with a grin. It was only a shallow gash on his arm—really, he was more concerned about the rip in his clothing. He would have to ask Gerome to see to that—a quick touch-up and he would be fine. He simply wanted to ensure no infection set in.

His aunt looked tired by the time she got to him, and Morgan greeted her with a gentle hug. Lissa smiled at him weakly as she worked, cutting back his sleeve to examine the wound.

"How did it happen?"

"I was too slow to avoid an arrow, and Lucina didn't manage to block it. I got mostly out of the way, but..." he held up his arm with a small smile, "not all."

"You're lucky the arrowhead wasn't poisoned. You should be fine," Lissa said, cleaning the wound. "I'm going to have to bandage this for now. I just..."

"You look exhausted," he observed. "I think we all are. Lucky I'm the last one."

Lissa hid a yawn behind on hand, nodding as she fetched the bandages. "Yeah, you got that right. Honestly, if Chrom would just let us take a break..."

But there was no time to take a break, they both knew that. Fight, march, fight, march, save the world...

"Let's take a whole week off after this is over. Or maybe a month. We can travel and see the world. And maybe not try to get killed every other day."

Lissa snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "Agreed."

After bidding his aunt goodnight, Morgan made his way across the muddy ground, tutting in annoyance as the muck stuck to the bottom of his cloak. Mother would never allow herself to look so dishevelled. Even in battle she conducted herself with poise and dignity. It was both admirable...and somewhat frustrating. He had a lot to live up to, but he loved her dearly and would never stop trying.

...if only he remembered the rest of his family as well as he did her.

Ducking under the flap to the expansive tent he shared with the rest of his family, Morgan blinked several times, adjusting his eyes to the sudden illumination that bathed the tent. The reason for the brightness was soon made apparent. It seemed like every mirrored stand lamp in the camp had been set up in the tent, and his mother, father, Frederick, and Lucina were standing around Robin's table. They were clearly running battle simulations, and Morgan hurried over, leaning over the table at his sister's side.

"There you are, Morgan. I was about to send for you."

"Sorry, Mother. Lissa was busy."

"She could have come here. Or you could have had someone else look at you. I needed you here."

Flushing slightly, Morgan looked down. "Mother, I..."

"Is there any reason to be so harsh with him, Robin?" he heard his father chime in. "He's here now."

"This is important, Chrom. Villagers lost their lives today, and I need to know where my tactics failed them. Morgan is the most likely to see my errors. I can't make a mistake like that again."

It took a moment for the praise to hit Morgan for what it was, but when it did his head jerked up. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks as he met his mother's gaze. She had one eyebrow raised and a smug smirk on her lips, her expression all-but screaming that she knew exactly what affect her words were having on him.

"I want you to go over the map, Morgan. Find where I went wrong."

Collecting himself, Morgan cleared his throat and began scanning the board. There was a crude representation of the village constructed across most of the table, and small wooden figurines were used to represent both the Shepherds and enemy units. Some quick rearranging had them set up in roughly the formation they had employed in the initial assault, and soon both he and his mother were hard at work reviewing the battle.

It was not long before the others at the table wandered off. Behind him, Morgan was dimly aware of his father thanking Frederick and bidding him good night. Lucina produced a tray and set it on the table next to him with instructions to, "Eat before it got cold," but mostly he kept his focus on the board in front of him.

There was a lot to think about.

"What's bothering you, Lucina?"

Startled, she glanced over at her father, cheeks reddening faintly at the intense stare Chrom was levelling her with. "Wh-what do you mean, Father?"

"I mean, you've been staring at your brother since he walked in here, like you can't decide whether to hug him, or yell at him. Mind telling me what happened?"

Lucina reddened further, glancing down at the leather beneath her feet. There was nowhere to hide in here, she knew. Simple folding screens partitioned off the sleeping quarters, and other than that the only space in the tent was right here, where they worked and, on the rare occasion they wanted a private, family meal, ate.

Currently, they were less than three feet from said brother, and she did not really feel like spilling her heart where he could easily overhear. Father seemed to sense this, and spoke up loudly.

"Robin, we're going for a walk."

"Don't get lost," Mother absently replied, waving one hand.

"Leave your capes behind," Morgan replied, "it's muddy out."

They complied with the suggestion, unclasping them and leaving them across the trunks containing their clothing. With that settled, they stepped outside.

A dense fog had settled in recently, leaving a damp chill in the air. It also reduced visibility and muffled sound, giving them a sense of privacy. Despite the cold, Lucina was grateful. She really did not want anyone overhearing this, if Father was still set on dragging it out of her.

"You willing to talk, now?"

Lucina shrugged, keeping quiet for the moment as they passed from the more populous area of the camp into the outskirts. Once she was satisfied they would not be overheard, Lucina let out a long sigh.

"I...you are correct, Father, there is something bothering me. It has been for...well, since before we came here, to be honest," she confessed, looking down at their feet as they walked side-by-side.

"Do you want to tell me what it is?"

To be honest, no, she did not. Talking about this meant facing memories she would rather not confront. But when had running ever helped her? She should face her uncertainties. So, she took a deep breath.

"It's about Morgan." He nodded, clearly unsurprised by the announcement. "Something...happened, in the past, and I..."

"Start at the beginning."

Lucina gazed at her father for a long moment before nodding.

"You are aware of the...general state of things, in the future. We fought every day, lived in fear that each day would be our last. We tried, though, Father."

"Of course you did, Lucina. You, your friends, and your brother. All of you." Lucina's breath hitched, and Chrom paused. "Lucina?"

"Morgan...Morgan disappeared."

"He did what? Where did he go? Lucina..."

"I...I don't know, Father. He just left one night. We awoke to find him gone. I was out of my mind with fear. I thought…"

"You must've found him. He came here with the rest of you, right? So he was with you when Naga..."

Lucina shook her head, clenching one fist tightly. "No, Father. I hadn't seen Morgan in months. I have no idea where he was and...and I'm not certain I want to."

He fell silent for a long while, the silence broken only by the muted squelching of their boots through the mud. The fog had only thickened in their time outside, and it hung about them like a dense, wet blanket, wrapping around Lucina and making her shiver despite her cloak.

"He...left? Why—" Chrom paused, cutting himself off with a shake of the head, "—is this why you didn't mention him to your mother and I? I have to admit, we were pretty confused by that. Suddenly a brother pops up, and you hadn't said a thing about him."

"I did not know if he even still lived, Father. He began...changing, he grew more withdrawn after your death, and he was drifting away from us for a long time. He stopped socialising, and just...pushed us all away. Even me. One day, he was just gone. I was so afraid. I tried to find him, but...it was like he had dropped off the face of the planet. I did not know if he had run away, or gone seeking mother, or...or if he had..."

"If he had?" Father prompted gently.

"If he had taken the easy way out. It was not uncommon, in those times, to...end it early. I was so afraid. I felt like I had failed him. I was supposed to protect him, like I promised you and Mother I always would! And instead, I lost him. I..." Her brow furrowed as Lucina found herself fighting back tears. "I cannot lose him again."

"First of all, you did all you could, Lucina. Your brother is clearly alive and well. Like you said, he probably just needed a break from the fighting. It happens, sometimes. He should have told you, but that's a moot point by now. He's fine, and so are you. Your mother and I are lucky to have such wonderful children."

"Father..."

Chrom held up a hand. "Secondly, what makes you think you're going to lose him again? We're all here this time, and I think we're all stronger for it. Your brother doesn't even remember those days." Which worried Lucina. She wanted to ask him exactly what had gone on, there. "He's going to stay right here."

"I do not fear him running away, Father. But he is reckless in battle, and I fear he will get hurt." She feared a lot more than that, but worry and paranoia clogged her throat and kept the words back. "He nearly did today."

"And you protected him. Lucina, you're a big sister to be proud of. Don't forget that."

"But why did he run away?" she burst out suddenly, stopping dead. "He had to have known how much I would worry! How much we'd all worry! Father...!"

"If he ever remembers, you can ask him yourself. If not, then it doesn't really matter, now does it?"

Chrom, for all of his good heart, was simple-minded at heart, and Lucina stomped down on her frustration at his words. It did matter, because if they did not know what had caused it, how could they guarantee it would not happen again?

"Lucy? Come on, let's get back inside."

Standing, frozen in the night, Lucina watched her father's cloaked form slowly get swallowed up by the fog. Doubts ran through her mind. She was terrified of losing her brother again, either from wounds or from whatever maggot in his mind had stolen him the first time. Because something had, and now...she was pretty certain she knew what it had been...

"Lucy!" Morgan ran over, giggling as he all but tripped over his too-big jacket, modelled in the same fashion as mother's. "Lucy! Come see! Come see!"

Mystified, Lucina set down her book and stood, following her brother closer to the window. It was just past midday, and the sun shone brightly through the window, enough to illuminate the room without the help of any lamps. Vision was still best by the windows, however, and Morgan lightly hopped up onto the sill.

"Morgan, what is this? I need to study," she said, stopping next to him with a small frown. "If this is another prank of yours, I will tell mother."

"I just saw Mother! She's the one who told me!"

No information, as usual with her six-year-old brother. Either way too much information, or not nearly enough to understand what he was talking about. There was no middle ground.

"Well, hurry up and show me so I can get back to my studies." Not that she really minded the distraction, but hard work was important! Father kept saying events that were going to shape history were befalling them, and so she had best learn all that she could. So, that was exactly what she was doing.

With a giggle and a grin, Morgan pulled his booted right foot up onto the windowsill, making Lucina tut sharply. "No feet on the furniture!"

"Not furniture," he pointed out, tugging the boot off and dropping it. Lucina sighed. His sock soon followed, and then a tiny hand wrapped around his ankle, holding his foot up so she could get a good look at the sole. "See?"

"Yes, Morgan," she said, shaking her head. "I've seen it a dozen times or more." Frankly, the six eyes staring at her were truly unnerving. "What's this about?"

"Mother has the same mark!"

"Yes, Morgan. I know that too. What I don't understand is how that matters?"

"You and father both have that thing. The one in your eye."

"The Brand of the Exalt," she corrected with a sigh. "You have it, too. On your left shoulder blade."

"Yeah, but you and Father don't have this. It's something just Mother and I share."

Lucina shook her head. "That's lovely, Morgan." Bending, she retrieved his sock and boot, handing them back to him. "Now put these back on and shoo. I have work to do."

He scurried off a few minutes later, and that was the last Lucina thought of the strange birthmark for a long, long time.

Knowing what she knew now, Lucina could not help but think of the "birthmark," and of what it meant to their mother. If that was the case...

"Lucina?"

She shook herself out of her thoughts. "Coming, Father!"

"Mother, I don't think there was anything you could have done to prevent what happened—"

Morgan was cut off sharply when his mother's palm slammed down onto the table, her blue hair swinging frantically as she stubbornly shook her head. "No. That kind of attitude, giving up like that, is how people get killed. It costs lives. What if your sister had given up? Or any of you, for that matter? Never roll over and accept something as a forgone conclusion, Morgan. Take what you have and make it better."

Frowning, Morgan bit his lip and stared down at the board. He understood what she was saying, and it did make a certain degree of sense, but...he still did not see a way around it.

He was saved from having to try by the tent flap reopening and his father and sister hurrying inside. Judging by the beads of water dripping off their cloaks, it had started to mist out. Mother hurried over to fuss over them.

Father laughed, wrapping her in a wet hug, and Mother squawked in dismay, laughing as she tried to shove him off. Morgan exchanged a knowing smile with his sister before turning back to the board. It was good to see his parents so happy.

Wet arms wrapped around him, and Morgan yelped in protest, straightening sharply enough to jostle the table. His cry of surprise turned into a cry of pain as his hipbone smacked against the table, and he winced, rubbing the sore spot.

"Oh...oh gods, Morgan, I'm so sorry," Lucina said apologetically, holding out her hands, but clearly reluctant to touch him again. "And look, the diagram... I am so, so sorry."

Eyeing the scattered models, Morgan could not stop a small chuckle. "No, Lucy, I think you just did me a favour," he admitted, grinning at her.

Lucina was clearly confused, but she nodded anyway. "I...did not mean to."

"I know, I know. It was an accident. We must have done stuff like this in the future, right? Messed up mom's work? Play fought and accidentally hurt each other?" Maybe even really fought, though that was hard to imagine.

"...sometimes," she admitted, "though we had little time for fun and games."

"Then there's no harm in catching up now." His smile was clearly catching, for Lucina returned it after only a moment. "See? Now I'll just have to get you back. Maybe some feathers, mice, and a bucket of resin..."

"Morgan?" Lucina dared, clearly wary judging by the look in her eyes.

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking aloud..."

A loud giggle broke into their conversation, and they looked over to see their mother trying futilely to shove their father back while he held her tightly, grinning. They exchanged another look.

"Leave?"

"Please," Lucina replied, hurrying to grab Morgan's cloak. She tossed it to him, and he caught it deftly. "Where shall we go?"

Morgan thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Let's visit Owain."

They hurried for the entrance, Morgan calling out as they headed out, "We're going out. We'll be back later!"

"Much later!" Lucina added, and then they were out in the wet and cold.

Chrom looked down at his wife with lust-filled eyes. "Bless those kids."

Robin grinned up at him in a way that made Chrom's heart stick in his throat. "Let's have five more."

He froze, staring at her. "...five?"

"Five more. After Morgan is born, of course. So nine."

"...nine."

His wife's laughter nearly made Chrom want to run.

"What're you two doing here?" Owain demanded when Lucina and Morgan ducked inside the tent he shared with Brady. Leaving it to his sister to explain, Morgan settled down on Brady's pallet, shedding his cloak and setting it aside.

"It's cold in here," he observed.

"There's no brazier in here, Morgan."

"I know. That's what I mean. Owain is our family, too. Why doesn't he get a nice tent like us?"

"Right here," Owain muttered.

"Where's Brady?" Morgan asked suddenly, as he realised the other boy's glaring absence.

"Patrol duty."

"Oh, guess that makes sense."

"Why aren't you with him, Owain?" Lucina asked.

"Uh, I'm not scheduled?"

"But..." Lucina's browed furrowed, and Morgan watched curiously.

"Your dad doesn't schedule the same way you did, Luc. We have more people here, for one, so we have spares, in case people get injured or just need the extra rest and stuff. Because Brady has so many extra duties, he doesn't get sentry duty much. You happened to come by when he does. I was on two nights ago.

"How did you do it in the future?" Morgan asked, suddenly curious.

"Tent mates. Four rotations, so two groups were off every night."

"Kept people from disturbing their tent mate, coming in and out," Owain added. "Shifts here are way less frequent, though, so it doesn't matter as much."

"But…wouldn't there be...?" Morgan asked, confused. There were thirteen of them...

"You disappeared, Morgan. I know you don't remember, but poof! You were gone one day. Before that, we kept a spare. Usually Luc, since she was always running herself ragged." Owain shot Lucina a look, and his sister flushed faintly.

"I-I..."

"It's fine, Morgan. Nobody blames you. You don't even remember leaving. Like how can we hold it against you? Besides, you're here now. And the best damn training partner I've ever had."

"I left? Did I really leave?" How was this his first time hearing about this? "What happened? Lucy!" How? He would never abandon his friends, would he?

"Owain, let's just drop it."

"Lucy! You can't just..."

"He's right, Luc. He deserves to know."

Morgan nodded. You could not just say something like that, then change the topic.

Lucina sighed, then shrugged. "You are correct, of course, it's just..."

"A sore topic," Owain supplied. Morgan could see why.

"Yes, it is. I simply...worried. Greatly."

"Whatever I did, Lucy, I'm sorry. I have no idea why I left, but—"

"Is that really true?"

The words were softly spoken, but they still cut him off like an arrow slamming through a wyvern. "Excuse me?"

Almost on top of him, Owain gasped, "Luc!"

"You know too, Owain. About the mark on Mother's hand."

"What does that have to do with an...y...thing..." Owain trailed off weakly, his brow furrowing as the truth behind whatever Lucina was saying seemed to sink. "Oh."

"What do you two know about me that I apparently don't?" Morgan asked, suddenly feeling anxious. Why could they not just be open with him?

Owain sighed. "Don't play dumb, Morgan. We all know what Aunt Robin's mark means, now."

Morgan sighed. "Yes, but what does that have to do with me?"

"You have it, too!"

Morgan's brow furrowed as he sent his cousin and sister a look of pure confusion. "No, I don't."

"You do, Morgan. On the bottom of your right foot."

Shaking his head before Lucina was even done speaking, Morgan tugged off his boot, followed by his sock. Grasping his own ankle, he held his foot up for them to see the unmarked skin. "No, I don't."

The silence that greeted his display was downright unnerving. Lowering his foot, he stared at the others. "Lucy? Owain? Anybody home?"

"It...was there, when we were children. Wasn't it, Owain?"

"It was. I'm sure it was, Luc. He definitely had it. He definitely did."

"He was proud of it. Liked to say it made him like Mother."

"I remember, too."

"But it's Grima's mark..." Lucina shook her head, her expression shifting from baffled to determined. "Tell me truthfully, Morgan: Do you, or have you ever, heard Grima's voice?"

"No." He paused, then amended, "Not that I remember." What was all this about? He believed them, they both claimed the same thing, but...where had the mark gone?

"Maybe when I left," he began thoughtfully, his mind working over the problem quickly, "it was because of the mark? Perhaps I found a way to rid myself of it."

"That seems reasonable," Lucina agreed after only a moment. "Though I still do not understand why you could not tell me."

"Any of us," Owain added.

"I...must have had a reason. Perhaps it was..." He paused, thinking about how overprotective his sister was. Sighing, he decided to bite the arrow anyway. "Perhaps it was dangerous, and I thought you might stop me."

"That's not—! If it was that important to you, Morgan, I would not..."

Owain raised one eyebrow. "Yes, you would've."

Morgan nodded. "I think so, too."

Outnumbered, Lucina sighed, ducking her head slightly. "Perhaps..."

"No 'perhaps' about it. You would've been all over him not to go. I'm not sure tying him up wouldn't have been a viable option to you, either."

Lucina huffed softly, while Morgan let out a soft chuckle. At least Owain was willing to laugh and joke about it.

"Let's just...drop it? I promise if my memory ever comes back, you'll be the first to know what happened. Both of you. For now, let's just...make a new future?"

"I can get behind that. What's the first thing you're gonna do when we have peace, Morgan?"

Lucina let the conversation drift away from her, her eyes trailing to Falchion's hilt. After a moment, she drew the blade, letting the light from the tent's only lantern dance across the metal surface.

She was, perhaps, even more concerned by this development than not...but at the same time, it put some of her fears to rest. At least now she did not have to fear Morgan disappearing again. She truly felt that, with that mark gone, he was safe.

...not that she believed he would ever leave them. Mother was here, and he had always been inexplicably drawn to her. It was cute, in its own way, and so long as Robin was safe and here...she had to believe her family would be okay.

Her baby self would have a safe and happy future. So would Morgan's, when he was born. Owain's, too. They could grow up as a real family, with Aunt Lissa and Uncle Ricken. Let them all be a happy family.

...and in the meantime, she would try not to dread the day she had to leave too much.

Blinking rapidly, Lucina suddenly found her brother's grinning face uncomfortably close to her own.

"Hey, Lucy? Can I borrow this?"

Before she could even think to react, Morgan had snatched the sword, and was waving hurriedly to Owain. "Come on, let's try it!"

"W-wait! Try what? Morgan, what are you doing? That's a sacred heirloom!"

"Owain wants to try to wield it!"

"Try to...? Morgan, Owain, get back here!" she yelled, chasing them out into the cold night.

Family. It was so, so important. And hers was right here.