About younger Morgan's behavior, I've always felt that both Morgans were probably troublesome children when they were young, especially female!Morgan. Other than that there's really not much to say about this chapter besides enjoy. Any and all feedback is always welcome!


Present's future / Future's past: a meadow in Rosanne

"Morgan, it's dangerous! Don't go too far!"

Morgan huffed and rolled her eyes, not even bothering to acknowledge him with a verbal answer. Gerome supposed he really did sound stupid - they were at their grandparents' house, knew the place like the backs of their hands, and bandits were almost unheard of in this area. Even so, there was an insistent ache tugging at him, a constant chant of wrongwrongwrong. Somehow he had a feeling that something was about to happen, and whatever it was it wouldn't be good.

He jogged to catch up with Morgan, glancing anxiously at the surrounding woods and wishing he had his mask. There was no reason to wear it since they weren't playing at being Shepherds, but even though it was a prop it still helped him keep calm. 'A tactician must always keep calm and have a clear head regardless of what happens," Father often said, usually in gentle admonishment whenever one of them grew too excited and began making errors. Despite her genius Morgan was a very emotional girl, prone to random outbursts and nonsensical decisions based on nothing but her feelings, so Gerome had decided he'd keep a calm mind for her until she grew less spontaneous.

It would be easier if she actually listened to him more than once in a blue moon.

"Are these what we need? Bilberries?" Morgan flopped onto the ground beside the shrubs at the edge of the clearing and poked at the oblong red berries.

"Barberries," Gerome automatically corrected. "There's thorns, be careful."

"You say that like you're not helping too." Morgan tossed him a basket and they set to work, picking berries for their grandparents to make medicines and jam from. In the past it had been their mother who crushed and boiled the berries, good-naturedly humoring Morgan whenever she tried to help and ended up making a mess of the kitchen, but recently their parents had both been extremely busy, hence why they were staying at their grandparents' house. Their father would be back any day now to take them back to Ylisse and their grandparents were determined to make jars and jars of the children's favorite jam for them to bring back since their mother was too busy to make any.

They quickly filled their baskets, Morgan humming a cheerful tune and Gerome unsuccessfully trying to ignore the foreboding feeling settling upon him; the loose pages in Morgan's bag, torn from a Fire tome for her to practice with, and the small hatchet at Gerome's side suddenly seemed incredibly weak and flimsy. He shuddered and picked up the pace. The sooner they finished the sooner they'd be back at the house, where their retired knight captain grandfather had an old but functional battleaxe.

They had just finished filling the baskets when the monsters burst out of the woods behind them.

Morgan screamed and scrambled backwards, knocking into Gerome and sending their baskets tumbling to the ground. Gerome grabbed her shoulder to steady her and slowly backed away, fumbling for his hatchet. The monster stood on the straightest path between them and the house, and he wasn't sure if there were any more lurking in the woods. They could always fight, but Gerome was a small boy and Morgan had just begun learning magic. The chances of them winning were slim.

The monster groaned and charged, the point of its spear aimed directly at Gerome's head.

Morgan screamed again and grabbed her brother's arm, roughly yanking him back into the relative shelter of the woods and behind the tree. The spear embedded itself deeply in a tree trunk, the monster roaring in frustration, and the children quickly set off running.

They sprinted through the woods, their normally nimble feet suddenly turned clumsy with fear as they stumbled over exposed roots and clung to each other for balance. Gerome's hatchet had dropped to the ground a while back; Morgan's hands shook too much to even attempt undoing the clasps on her bag. Behind them there was the sound of splintering wood and a tree falling to the ground, punctuated by a guttural roar as the monster finally freed its spear. The roar was answered by another, then another, then another, until the trees practically shook under the creatures' screams.

"How...how many are there?!" Morgan whimpered, clutching Gerome's arm in a death grip. Gerome didn't respond as he looked around wildly, searching for any way out. The roars echoed around them and footsteps drew closer; the air began to darken and take on a purplish tint.

Gerome pushed Morgan against a tree and placed himself in front of her, grabbing a tree branch with shaking hands. Behind him he could hear Morgan fumbling with her bag and glanced back just in time to see her finally retrieve her tome pages. There were four pages in her hand; she had four chances with her flames. Gerome for his part knew there was no way he'd be able to defeat anything with just a tree branch, but at the very least he'd do his best to hold them off so Morgan could cast her spells and escape.

"S-set the woods on fire?" Morgan whispered under her breath, the papers almost tearing in her tight grip. "No, we'll get caught too. Use the flames to make a path? If they follow us we have nowhere to run. Think Morgan, think! What would Father do?"

A couple of monsters stepped out of the woods. Morgan squeaked and cast a spell almost immediately, the small fireball missing Gerome by inches and smacking a monster right in the chest. The creature growled, slapping at the flames eating away at its clothes, then snarled and charged.

Gerome looked up at the swinging sword and moved the tree branch in place to intercept it, bracing himself for the blow that was to follow and hoping Morgan would use this chance to run. The creature was only three feet away...two feet away...one foot...

"Get away from them!"

Flames rained down on the monsters, far brighter than anything Morgan had ever conjured, and incinerated them to ashes. Gerome gasped and Morgan whimpered in pure relief as a familiar figure appeared in front of them, hands crackling with magical energy.

"Are you two alright?" Robin said softly, scanning their surroundings with narrowed eyes.

"Y-yes...we're fine," Gerome managed, the branch dropping from suddenly numb fingers. "You were just in time."

"F-F-Father!" Morgan wailed, throwing her arms around his waist. "I'm so glad to see you, we were so scared..."

The energy around one of Robin's hands dissipated and he glanced down at them, ruffling Morgan's hair and giving both children a tired smile. "I'm sorry...I never expected them to spread so fast, but both of you handled this very well. Come, this is no place to talk."

He ushered them deeper into the woods, ignoring the path and leading them through so many twists and turns Gerome was soon completely lost. Robin seemed to know exactly where they were going though and kept a wary eye on the trees around them, so Gerome concentrated on trying to calm his heartbeat and steadying Morgan whenever she stumbled.

Eventually they finally doubled back and made it to the edge of the woods, only to find the village under attack. All three of them halted and stared at the rising flames, at the horde of monsters which practically obscured the village gate.

"Damn," Robin muttered, seemingly forgetting about his children's presence as he ran towards the village and raised his hands. The air crackled with electricity, making the hairs on Gerome's arms stand on edge, and golden spell circles erupted around Robin's palms.. "Thoron!"

Twin bolts of electricity shot out at high speed, ripping into the lines of monsters and tearing them apart with ease. Robin cast the spell again, and again, until the crowd thinned and they could see the villagers desperately trying to run from the invading creatures and the bodies already crumpled on the ground.

Gerome squinted, dreading what he might find but unable to look away all the same - it was hard to tell with all the blood, but that dress looked like his grandmother's-

"Don't look," Robin said quietly as he hurried back to them, gently pushing their heads down. "I'll be sending you to your mother now. Tell her I'll return once I'm done here."

"But Father-" Gerome began, not wanting to leave him here alone, but the gem on his father's bracelet glowed and he suddenly found himself standing in his father's Ylissean office with a very confused Morgan beside him.


Arena Ferox

"Thoron!"

Gerome threw himself to the ground, barely escaping in one piece as his father's - no, Robin's - favorite spell blazed through the air right above him. To the side he heard Lucina yelp, her normally impeccable concentration broken by the sudden burst of electricity, and several loud, discordant clangs.

He rolled to his feet and silently cursed, glaring at the young man standing a few yards away. Robin simply gave him a neutral look and slowly lowered his hand.

"Not bad," Robin said, mouth quirking upwards in a too-familiar smile that looked odd combined with the lack of warmth and pride in the tactician's eyes. "But as much as I'd love to continue, it seems our battle has already been decided."

He nodded to the side and Gerome glanced over to see Lucina on the ground, her Falchion a few feet away as Chrom stood above her with his Falchion pointed at her chest.

"...Yes, it has." Gerome straightened and lowered his axe, watching as Chrom sheathed his sword and helped Lucina to her feet. If the prince found it odd that 'Marth' weighed much less than one might expect he didn't comment and waited until Lucina was steady before walking over to Robin and clapping him on the shoulder, a tired smile on his face.

The stands erupted with cheers and the announcer stood, but Gerome easily tuned them out as he went to join Lucina and exited the arena, ignoring the smiling Shepherds and pretending he didn't notice Robin's thoughtful gaze following them out.

"What do you think?" Lucina asked once they were safely alone.

Gerome studied the electrical burn on his shoulder plate, reflecting on the brief skirmish with Robin that had barely lasted a minute yet had seemed to last forever. "He is as skilled as I remember," he said softly, "and his sense of strategy equal to if not greater than Morgan's."

"Indeed. I have never seen my father fight seriously, and while more arrogant than I expected he is as skilled as the stories say." Lucina sighed, running her hand over Falchion's hilt. "They should be fine for the moment."

Gerome nodded silently, glancing at Lucina while her head was bowed in thought. He had once been almost two years younger than the princess, having been born seventeen months after her, but due to having arrived in this time period a year before her was now only a few months younger. As disconcerting as it was to run into a recently arrived Lucina at the harbor a few days ago, how many times would the experience repeat as they found the others? How many of their friends had arrived long ago or had yet to arrive?

When had Morgan arrived, and was it possible she was now the older sibling?

He shook the thoughts out of his head. He would deal with it when the time came, but for now he had a job to do. "Will you be returning to Ylisstol?"

"Yes. Aunt Emmeryn's assassination is coming up soon and I must warn them. There is also the chance that I might find some of the others in the city." Lucina glanced at him, her concern evident even through her mask. "Will you be going to Wyvern Valley?"

"I will. I have already bought passage on a merchant ship and Minerva is growing restless. It will do her well to be among her own kind again." Unspoken was the thought that Minerva, although highly intelligent and understanding of what was needed in a given situation, likely wouldn't be able to contain herself if she saw Robin. The result could be disastrous, as Gerome didn't know when Robin had developed the ability to understand her and the Robin of this time wouldn't meet Cherche for another few years. As much as it pained him to leave Lucina again after having just reunited this was for the best. "I will rejoin you in a few years' time."

"Well then, until we meet again." Lucina nodded, a sad but genuine smile on her face. "Travel safely."

"And you as well."

Gerome turned and walked off, heading towards the stables where Minerva was waiting. His past year had been spent doing odd jobs around the continent, raising money for their passage to Valm. Meeting with Lucina as he was haggling with sailors had been unexpected but he'd agreed to join her in gauging the Shepherds' strength, mostly out of duty but partly because he was curious about this time's Robin.

Now he knew better. He would do everything he could for duty's sake, but under no circumstances could he give in to his curiosity. Even in that brief encounter he could see that this Robin was too similar to the father he'd known, much too similar for him to not care. He would have to stay away and interact only as much as necessary, nothing more.