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Chapter One: Runaway Child!

Despite all the knowledge Mark had in his head, he could never describe the sensation of waking up. Regardless, he knew one thing: it always felt great. Waking up to feel his arms wrapped around his beloved wife, feeling the strands of her blonde hair tickling the tip of his nose and hearing her slight snore was beyond words.

Opening his eyes, he saw it was dawn but not quite so. The night sky was a fading palette of black to blue alongside a still bright crescent moon. Nevertheless, it was time to get up. As Ylisse's Grandmaster, he still had a job to do; even this early in the morning. Slowly and carefully, he pulled his arms off his wife. One wrong move would lead to her to wake up in a sleep-induced rage. He heard her mutter something but it came as inaudible. Nevertheless, he leaned over and kissed her cheek and crawled out of their bed with their pink, Maribelle-inspired covers.

He walked over to his desk and donned his trademark cloak over his nightwear. An idea crossed his mind.

Maybe I should bring him with me to my workplace…father-son time. Yeah! That's what I'll do.

He walked to the wooden crib that held their son. Every glimpse, he was still bewildered at the fact that he was a father already. They were still very young; his wife being only in her early twenties and himself as old as Chrom when they first met. Meeting Lissa, marrying her, and having her bear their child felt all in a span of six years felt all so fast but all so worth it. He found it funny that his son was by definition Plegian, being born at Origin Peak. The irony of it all is that he is of Exalted blood. Looking into the crib, the color of his face drained and his eyes shot open.

The baby was gone.

Except, he wasn't worried about kidnapping or any of the sort. No. Rather he was more concerned where his baby ended up at. Didn't he just make the crib climb-proof? He noticed stacked pillows on the crib's side and their door creaking back and forth. At first, he was a little bit impressed at their son's escape antics but that was quickly overcome by an unbearable sense od fread; who knows what kind of trouble their child could get into. And he let of a heavy sigh; his son was crawling around the castle.

"H-honey…"

Again.


Before the crack of dawn, Ylisstol Palace began to bustle and roar with life.

From the meaty vapor of stocks and the scent of freshly cut vegetables, the kitchen's aroma was nothing short of defining Ylisstol Castle as home for everyone. The cooks and head chefs began to prepare the first meals of the day, not just for the royal family but for all the castle workers and staff. At everyone's surprise, Chrom requested that the castle workers and the overnight guards get the first meal. And everyone was jubilant at the kindness their Exalt had offered.

On the castle's southwestern ward, Frederick the Wary and Sully began training recruits for the Royal Guard alongside new Shepherd initiates. Whether they wielded wooden axes, lances or swords, the two lead Shepherd members often thought of new ways to train their recruits. The two often began the regimen by saying that just because the threat of the Fell Dragon was gone didn't mean that Ylisse can soften up. The pained groans from the recruits often amplified the intensity of the exercises that the new Knight Captain and Red Paladin thought of giving. On rare days, Panne and Yarne to observe what she called "man-spawn play fighting" while Yarne thought of it as a way to spend tim with his strict father. Although the latter hoped to not always flinch at the sound of weapons breaking. Fortunately, that slight comedy of mother-doting-on-son gave the soldiers a short, but well-deserved laugh and motivation.

At the opposite side of the training grounds, Chrom began his daily training regimen by setting up training dummies with Falchion at hand. He prayed to Naga that, hopefully, none of these new training dummies that Frederick bought would break.

Yet at the western corridor, a certain tactician-in-training wouldn't have to worry about training or anything. After all, it was still too early.

Morgan kicked and turned on her bed, feeling uncomfortably warm under her sheets. Instinctively, she crumpled the intricately designed fabric into a jumbled, wrinkled mess and kicked it to the foot of her bed. Oddly enough, the spring months were unusually cold that year. With her very heavy twisting and turning, it came as a surprise that Morgan was actually smiling with her mouth wide open, drooling.

It was the perfect sign of a girl indulging in a good dream.

"Ehehe….hubba hubba…" She mumbled and giggled. Then she snored. Unfortunately, her snoring stirred a baby awake who used her outstretched right arm as a pillow. Now awake, Owain blinked. It was dark and all he could see were the outlines of the room. He blinked twice and his eyes adapted. He tried to stand up but the softness of the bed threw him off balance and onto the Morgan's belly. Thankfully, the boy was light and Morgan was unfazed by the extra weight on her.

"Oh…not there…" She mumbled and turned to her side. The infant was curious at the sounds she made. He balled his hands into little fists and smacked her sides but she did not wake. Morgan suddenly sprawled on her back again with Owain's leg getting caught under. After pulling it out, he smacked her abdomen. Still no response. With nothing else to do, he crawled on top of her and rested on her chest. He looked at his sleeping sister's face and poked her cheek. According to his baby instincts, things that were soft were to be poked.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

Morgan did not budge, but simply hugged the infant as if she was holding a stuffed animal.

"Ohoh…you beast…haha—"

And the only thing to do? He put his fingers on her nose and…

YANK.


The moment Mark told Lissa, her sunken eyes shot open, red veins cracked its hazel hue. It was, in his honest opinion, not her prettiest. Mornings were not his wife's favorite. Instinctively concerned of her infant's safety as any mother would, she sat up, grabbed the collar of his coat and shook him.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BABY'S GONE?! DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO MAKE THE DAMN THING CLIMB-PROOF?" She yelled, rather viciously; Half-tired and half-frustrated.

"Well, I thought I did! I bought a new one that's at least two hands taller!" Mark then sheepishly lowered his head like Morgan. "H-He used his pillows as some kind of makeshift stairs!"

"Ugh! It's the fifth time this week! How did he even open the door?!" Mark shied away from Lissa's glare and she let his collar go. "Oh no...you forgot to lock it, didn't you."

"Well, I came in late-" And immediately, she placed her finger in between his lips, shutting him up. She sighed, realizing that getting angry at Mark was counterproductive. Although her rage had not completely calmed down; she forcibly turned him to face the door and shoved him.

"No excuses. C'mon, Grandmaster. MOVE IT. We have a baby to find."

Mark, experiencing another parental crisis that week, thought of a simple math equation to describe his early morning that day.

"Lissa" plus "missing baby" plus "very early morning" equals "not good".


"Huh-WAAAAAAH!" Morgan quickly sat up and looked at her window and all she saw was the still dark sky. A horrified look on her face appeared once she caught sight of her mirror. From all the tossing and turning, her short blonde hair became as neat as a griffon's mane. She let off a grumpy groan, fixing her hair would take a while.

Eventually, Morgan's ears caught the raspberries and coos on her lap. She looked down and she saw her "little" brother with an endearing look on his face, upside down from rolling off his sister's chest. The baby, unaware of his sister's frustration, looked at her with his brown eyes and smiled at Morgan's narrow-eyed stare.

"Momo." He said, reaching for her hair. Morgan picked up her brother and cradled him in her arms.

"Owain," she sighed, waving her finger disapprovingly. "Don't pull on big sis' nose okay? Especially if she's having a dream…" and she muttered aside. "…a very nice dream."

The infant's response? Nothing. Regardless, Morgan's sleepiness was blown away by the bundle in front of her. Morgan rubbed her temples and softened her gaze.

"Dawww, how can I be ever mad at you? Not with that face I won't!" She cooed and snuggled the tip of her nose with his, earning a laugh from him. She put her finger on her chin as a thought came across in her head. "C'mon big bro—I mean, little bro? Little big bro? Brother?" And she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Ugh…I'll never get used to this time travelling vocabulary thingy."

With that thought (And it's resulting migraine) Morgan got out of bed and donned her tactician's robe. Though the thought came to change out of her nightwear, she knew it would take too much effort and decided against it. She walked to her study desk, took her fire tome and chanted a tool spell. A small orb of fire appeared on top of her palm and floated away. The orb touched the each candle wick before fading, lighting up the entire room. Owain looked at the orb with wonder.

"Wait, how'd you get here? Oh whatever, let's get you back to Mommy and Daddy, okay?" Morgan put her book back, picked up her brother and walked out of the room. Surprisingly, a familiar face mirrored her actions across the hall.

"Mornin' cuz." Cynthia said with a yawn. Next to her was a very energetic, three year-old Lucina.

"Morning Morgan!" The toddler smiled.

"Cynthia? Lucina? You're up too?" Morgan looked at her and noticed that she was boasting the same hairstyle and accompanying, as she would call it, a "younger older sibling" as well. Cynthia sighed.

"Eeeyups." Beside the blue-haired princess, Lucina tugging on her sister's nightgown, vying for her attention. "Woke up the same way as me?"

"How'd you wake up?"

"Foot in my mouth."

"Baby fingers in my nose." And the two girls laughed.

"Wasn't Owain supposed to be with Aunt Liz and Uncle Mark's room?" Cynthia asked as the two made their way through the hall.

"Yeah." Morgan began to gently swing her cradled brother. "I wonder how he got out of his crib…"

"But they're all the way at the eastern wing."

"Well, let's see if my dad's at his workplace, we can drop him off there."

Lucina tugged on Cynthia's gown. "Cici?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

Lucina looked at Cynthia with a sleepy gaze. "I'm hungry…"


Morgan found it strange that there was no soft glow of light from under the door that was Mark's workplace.

"Father? Sorry to bother you and all but—" Morgan peeked her head through the door and saw that the room was surprisingly empty. Except for the stacks upon stacks of paperwork and maps, the Grandmaster's study without the Grandmaster was nothing more than a messy room. "Hmm, Nope."

Cynthia shrugged. "Strange. Usually Uncle Mark's awake at this time. I guess he's still taking a snooze."

Before Morgan could say a word, Lucina's stomach grumbled sharply.

"Cici, I wanna go eat…" Lucina said, tugging repeatedly on her sister's nightgown as they walked the long halls. The pegasus knight crouched and motioned her to get on her back.

"I know, I know. C'mon get on my back." Cynthia began as she stood up, giving the young Lucina a piggyback ride. "Once we drop Owain off at Aunty Liz's room, we'll go grab chow, yeah?"

She stomped impatiently. "But I wanna eat now!"


"I apologize, Milady." Frederick said as he began storing the training dummies back into the shed. "I don't think I've seen young Owain during our training regimen. If I did, I'd be very surprised at an infant parrying a sword strike."

"It's okay, Frederick. Thanks." Lissa sighed and turned to Mark. "Okay, that rules out this place."

The wooden doors shut and Frederick resumed his proper posture. "If I may be so blunt, what exactly happened?"

"Well," Mark fiddled with his fingers. "Somehow Owain climbed out of his crib and went off somewhere."

"This is quite grave. I'll scramble some of the guards to look for your son."

"Thank you, Frederick." Mark smiled, appreciating the help. "Although, I honestly think he couldn't have gotten too far."

Lissa quickly turned left and began to hastily walk towards a large door. "C'mon Mark, let's check the stables."

"Wait. The stables? That's outside the grounds, dear!" And Lissa was already out of earshot. Then he groaned.

Why couldn't this be simple?


Morgan puffed her cheeks. "Great! Mom and Dad aren't at their room either. And I can't just leave him in the crib alone."

"So what do you want to do then? I'm actually getting hungry too…" Cynthia asked, ignoring her own grumbling stomach. Meanwhile, Morgan adjusted her way of carrying Owain.

"I guess we'll just wait for breakfast to be ready."

"But I wanna eat now!" Lucina cut in impatiently, already letting go of her arms around Cynthia's neck, flailing around dangerously. Cynthia immediately sat her down, took hold of the toddler's shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"We can't do that, Lucy. We have to let the others eat first. Do you want to be selfish?"

"But Cici, I'm hungry!" She said again, louder and ignoring her sister's attempt at discipline. And the crown princess sighed. Was her older sister this difficult?

"Hey Lucy," Morgan suggested with a smile, "It's still kind of early. Let's all go to the courtyard and wait for the food to be ready." Lucina shook her head in refusal. "You'll be playing with Owain."

"Big one or little one?" She asked.

"Little one." And the toddler looked at the baby hanging on Morgan's arms. Thankfully, that calmed her down and Cynthia mouthed off a "thank you".

"Okay. But Wainy better learn to walk." Lucina said as she rested her chin on Cynthia's shoulder. "I wanna teach him how to play hide an' go peek!"


"Didn't you guys just buy a new crib for him?" Chrom said as he wiped the sweat from his brow, stabbing Falchion into the dirt. Lissa dusted herself off, her nightgown already stained with dirt and mud from all the walking she did.

"Well, it wasn't tall enough." Lissa sat down on one of the broken training dummies. "I swear Mark, he inherited his escape strategies from you."

"Hey, I might have most of my memories back but I don't recall climbing out of a crib. My memory only goes so far, too."

The Exalt smirked. "Lissa, remember when Emm said that you always climbed out of your crib when you were a child."

Mark raised a brow at the new information and chuckled, earning a soft glare from his wife. Though expecting some sort of retaliation, the fact that she didn't proved that she remembered when she escaped her beds.

"Shush." Her face flashed a light pink and she brushed her hair aside. "He's not here in the western courtyard…where else could he have gotten to?"

"Maybe you should put yourselves in the kid's shoes?" Chrom suggested, also concerned for his nephew's safety. "If you were a curious child, where would you go?"

There was silence between the three. Chrom and Lissa looked at the tactician and he was only able to mutter one word; a mixed look of despair, fear, and absolute panic was pasted on his face.

"Crap."


Author's Note:
Aha. I'm not dead. Asleep by Gone2GroundEX actually demotivated me to write because I became too sad. Silly but yeah. That and the fact that I sprained my wrist from gym. Tip: never ever curl 50's when you can barely do 35's. There's pushing to your limits and pushing towards stupidity.

Anyhow, life is just crazy for moi. I'll thank Tsuna4Chs and Strawberry Eggs for helping me with this bloody language. I have a nice outlook on how to properly proofread my stuff. Then again, I wish I knew how this beta-reading things work, so less work for me.

For the time being, I'll be gone for a few weeks since I will be taking my child to Disneyland in California and some visiting of relatives here and there. Father-daughter time. Yeah! That's what I'll do. Other than that, I'll also do a ton of quality inspections of all the chapters I wrote. Because, my beloved readers. I love you all and you deserve better from me.

Anyhow, thanks for all the support and I'll be posting a short, extra Paralogue on July 15th!