A.N: Hello everybody! I recently finished Fire Emblem: Awakening and boy did I like it! While it wasn't the most "Badass" game of "Badassitude" it was really enjoyable. I liked most of the cast (which is pretty rare for me) and I believe that the story is over-packed with potential.
This story will be male Morgan-centric and about time-traveling (despite the prologue, I mean a real good old time travel!), so, yup, it's Alternative Universe-ish. Some of the characters' names differ from the US-English version since I personally played the Non-English European version and I kinda really like Cherche's name in the Non-English version : Zelcher, so those that are not accustomed please bare with me. I gave the Avatar a name, I hope you don't mind too much.
Also, English is not my mother tongue so...don't be too hard on me 'kay? =) And I'm really open to constructive criticism.
The story starts right after chapter 21 : Five Gemstones and has MAJOR spoilers.
Disclamer : Everything related to Fire Emblem Awakening belongs to Nintendo/Intelligent Systems; I only own my own ideas and my weird sense of humor, oh! and an overpriced copy of the game.
Chapter One: Unforgivable.
It was only a little less frightening than it was sickening. It may have been done unwillingly, but the fact still remained; she had betrayed them. She had thought that after all the sleepless nights she had spent trying to come up with better strategies and honing her skills –may it be with tomes or swords –that she wouldn't deceive the Shepherds again.
The young tactician of the Ylisse Army's elite stood in the middle of the hall, steps away from the imposing doors leading out of the Plegia Castle. Her long blond hair, -having fallen from their intricate twists and now shining both with sweat and blood, - cast shadows on her face, shielding her still widened and slightly glistened chestnut eyes from the view of hurrying backs and worried faces.
Unforgivable.
What she had done had been completely and utterly unforgivable. In the back of her mind she knew, that just as Chrom had said, her...friends wouldn't hold her responsible for the atrocious act of giving up the very object that had cost the late Exalt's life into the smugly awaiting hands of their enemy. Her father. The very perpetrator of all this madness. Estya couldn't believe that she had the same blood as Validar cursing through her veins. A trembling hand lifted itself reflexively to her mouth, barely fighting the feeling of sickness. She felt manipulated, used, dirty and most of all ashamed of her weak mind. She couldn't be trusted.
When Chrom and Frederick had tried to talk her out of her guilt induced daze, she had unconsciously muttered an answer, not even registering their words. On the other hand, what she didn't miss was the look that was given to her by Lucina. Even in her state she could see the succession of emotions clearly displayed in the young princess' eyes. Anger, doubt, shock, doubt again followed closely by wariness. Stahl would be proud of my observation skills, she thought before joining Lon'qu's side. Said swordsman barely spared her a glace, swept the faces of the people closer to them with his guarded eyes before discretely blocking her from the others' views as much as he could.
Frederick led them through the safest and fastest path back to their camp. Few were the ones that had witnessed how their tactician had been possessed –for it had been that, possession – and fortunately all of them were part of the Shepherds. It would have caused quite an uproar if any other soldier, not directly knowing Lady Estya, had been there to later spread the rumor of how the Fire Emblem was lost. He would be making sure of that, even if he knew that none of those that had been present would be inclined to disclose such information to someone beside the inner circle of their group.
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Once they were back at the camp, a good ten hours later, Estya's limbs ached beyond words but her mind was finally cleared. She wasn't a tactician for nothing, scratch that, she wasn't the tactician for nothing. She had to prepare, she had to come up with contingency plans of the contingency plans that were already formed in her head and even were already in motion for some. She had so many things to take into consideration; she needed to know how to make sure to spare most lives, how track down Validar, how to talk with Chrom without jeopardizing her carefully crafted strategies… But all that could wait for she had another priority at that time, the wary eyes following her every move only urged her to find her friend Tharja faster. The dark mage had slipped a note in her pocket while soldiers that had stayed at camp rushed to the Shepherds. It simply stated 'I can make it work' in a surprisingly neat handwriting.
Estya was conflicted. On the one hand, part of her was relieved that the problem that had occupied her mind ever since the children from the future had made themselves known had been partially taken care of. On the other hand, she was anxious that it was only 'partially taken care of'. She felt bad for not entirely believing in her friend's skills, but not as bad as she had felt when she actually had dared to come up to the mage with her request.
After a small talk with Tharja and getting rid of the superficial marks of their previous fight, the tactician went a little way from the camp to the nearly glade she had seen on their way back. She wanted to be alone to think about how she was to proceed. She had to talk to her son; she had seen him stumble a few times while walking around the tents, attempting to pass it off as simple fatigue to his friends but failing to hide the nervous glances in her direction. She knew that he didn't want to worry her but she couldn't help it, even if technically he wasn't born yet, he was her son. And soon, she'd put both of their minds at ease. Apparently, Naga really hated her, for the blond strategist wouldn't even get a minute of rest. Her 'shadow' had finally deigned to show in front of her.
"Beg pardon, Mother. Might I have a word?" asked formally Lucina as per usual. After receiving a nod from her…mother… and taking a deep breath, Lucina squared her shoulders and started talking about Chrom.
Estya knew where all of this was leading to; she even had anticipated this reaction from the young princess… but not this soon. The blond couldn't help but feel dread creeping in her heart. It was too soon, she couldn't... not now.
"Mother, I… Please, forgive me…" said Lucina while drawing her Falchion. Her hand trembled at the expression on the tactician's face. But she couldn't back out now. "Stay where you are, Mother! In my future, you… You kill Father."
"No! That's insane! Why would I kill Chrom? I –" the older woman didn't want to believe what the other was suggesting and couldn't help but refute the very idea right away but she stopped in horror when she felt as if her heart was clenched by a wyvern's claw. She paled at the implication that her instincts had picked on.
"I was not certain myself, until now… I knew he had been killed by his closest friend. Having witnessed your bond with him, I doubted it could be so… But today's events make it clear. You are at Validar's mercy. I suspect it's he who forces you to take Father's life, and very soon…" it seemed that the princess had already made her choice and even her mother pleading for her to wait didn't seem to stop Lucina. "If my father is right, then we can change our fates. If this dark future is to be averted, sacrifices must be made. I am sorry, Estya! I know this is matricide, I… I know that…" she was trying hard to remain deaf to the tactician's protests. "Don't make it harder! Don't resist, and your death will be swift and painless. If you hold any love for Chrom, then let this be done…"
Before Estya could reply, her chest tightened again, this time even more painfully. "Morgan…" she whispered before she momentary shut her eyes and took a few calming breaths. When her eyes had opened again her determination was strong enough as to make the Falchion falter midair. The strategist could feel Chrom's presence approaching fast in their direction but before the prince could utter a word, Estya took a sudden step away from Lucina and her dangerous sword, in the direction of the camp.
"While you think of your duty as the protector of the future of your people, I have to think of my duty as well! We will finish this later, that I promise you my daugh–… Princess Lucina."
The young girl would have made a move to follow if Chrom's right hand hadn't painfully grabbed by her by the shoulder. "Father…I can explain" Lucina miserably whispered.
Estya rushed through the camp at a surprisingly fast speed considering how she was supposed to limp because of the many injuries marring her left leg. She didn't even register how desperate and shrill her voice sounded while she yelled "Tharja! Tharja!"
Discretion be damned, she could come up with an excuse to cover it all up later, if she could actually sav – No! She had to stop thinking about that possibility. What she needed at the moment was the dark mage's talents and to be by her son's side.
For several months now she had seen just how much Lucina was changing their lives and fates, even if the princess herself didn't. While she didn't know just how much good the fact that she had altered the Khans lives' could possibly do, she was also unaware of what she had put her brother through.
Every time that Lucina had succeeded in steering Chrom away from the tactician, Morgan's steps would falter. At first it just seemed to be a coincidence to Estya, but the more it happened the more undeniable it got. Morgan was slowly dying… contrary to Lucina, that had been already born in their time, the young tactician's future existence could still be compromised. And by the choices Lucina had made ever since Basilio's demise, -her so called "second failure"- , had progressively put more of a strain on Morgan's health.
Ultimately, when Lucina had decided to…get rid of Estya, the tactician had felt the danger of the very thought of it. Ever since she had started to worry about the possibility of her son actually not being born, she had asked help from the only person she could think of. Tharja. She needed to make sure of Morgan's wellbeing. She had literally breathed in every grimoire she could get her hands on with the same vigor as a starving Stahl, she had even accepted Gaius' help despite what her moral code dictated her.
Still calling out for the dark mage, Estya's frenetic steps took her right beside her son's tent. All around her different Shepherds tried to understand what had put her in such a state and what they could do to help. She didn't hear any of it; she just kept desperately calling her friend's name over and over again. The tactician had to be by her son's side for what was to come, but she needed Tharja just as much. The adrenalin having slowly ebbed away from her veins made her knees buckle, right before they could hit the floor a firm hand gripped her by an upper arm. Acting completely out of reflex, she twisted out of the hold while clenching the offending limb in a bruising hold and turning rapidly around, her other hand already buzzing with barely restrained energy millimeters away from her "assailant's" face.
The small bolts swirling around the tactician's hand cast Gregor's face in an unnatural glow. The mercenary didn't flinch and instead helped to steady her on her feet before abruptly lifting her on his left shoulder like a mere sack of potatoes. "Gregor sent to find crazy tactician and bring her to Tharja." The colossus said while hurrying in the opposite direction. "Gregor has task, you lot has tasks to do, no?"
When Ricken had opened his mouth to ask just what in the name of Naga was going on, he nearly choked on a candy. With the young magician distracted, and now throwing a glare at him –more like pouting childishly – Gaius looked worriedly over at the other dark mage of their group of misfits. And he didn't like what he saw; Henry didn't have his trademark smile on his face and his eyes were fully opened and pensive. It appeared to the "former" thief that their magicians were all feeling a little off in the past days. Their tactician looked restless and stressed beyond words, her son didn't take part in the last couple of training sessions organized by Slavedriver dearest, Ricken seemed edgy, Specs was even more observant than before; Henry was less creepy than usual –and that's what really creeped Gaius out –, while Tharja was practically invisible… Whatever it was, he knew that it was better to let both Sunshine and Bubbles to their spooky stuff.
When Estya had entered Tharja's tent, her gaze had directly settled on Morgan's relatively small form breathing painfully on the cot that was encircled by numerous sheets covered by strange markings in what appeared to be blood. The dark haired mage was standing by the young boy's head, her eyes looking angry.
"So, this means that I'm really going to die before my son is born…?" Estya asked miserably. This was just confirming the theory they had come up with. She looked uncharacteristically grim.
"Unforgivable…" Tharja muttered her head down and her hands gently holding Morgan's head.
"Will it be a Risen, a plegian soldier, an ally…? Grima? Or even my own daughter? "
"All of this…unforgivable… What you are doing right now, is unforgivable too. I didn't follow that airheaded prince so I could witness your self-pity party." She slowly lifted her head and looked Estya right in the eyes with a still angry look. "If you die before me, you'd better run in the afterlife."
The familiar sentence, often uttered to her before a battle, brought the tactician out of her peculiar state; they had work to do. After all, messing the equilibrium of time and space wasn't a laughing matter. Both of them had been preparing for this for months and had found how to do it only by interweaving different, horrendously dark curses with alchemy and intricate holy magic. They were about to bind Morgan to this world, by blood and by magic. It was clear to them that something to prevent the young tactician's birth was going to happen soon, as much as Tharja didn't want to admit. While it was still only a "possibility", Estya didn't want to take a risk and just wait for things to happen, so the dark mage started. What they were about to do would leave Tharja extremely tired, Morgan in even more pain for a while and Estya depleted of every ounce of her magic. But she would be damned –quite literally – if she didn't succeed to do the only thing the strategist had ever asked her. If she was honest with herself, Tharja didn't want to lose young Morgan; it wasn't because he had grown on her or that he was technically part of Estya and had actually helped the dark mage in getting closer to the blond tactician… Definitely not because of that.
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It was as if the whole camp had stilled. Chrom and Lucina had been walking back to the camp in a rather tense silence after their lengthy talk. They stopped feeling as if something was about to happen. Not too far from them, Frederick accompanied by Cordelia and Zelcher, interrupted their checking of the army's weaponry in favor of going to calm down their respective mount. Panne had a pensive expression on her face while her son twitched at every sound anxiously.
Suddenly, a dark wyvern dropped beside Lucina; Gerome quickly dismounted his Minerva and stood protectively by the princess. Before he could utter a word, or even a look at said woman, a bloodcurdling scream resounded through the camp followed closely by a shockwave of magic. And silence reigned on them again.
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A.N: I hope you are intrigued. Don't forget to leave a review to tell me what you thought of it =)
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Trivia: Did you know, that in the Non-English European version of Fire Emblem: Awakening Morgan's name is Linfan?