xIx

Nine

Despair and Hope

xIx

Morgan's head ached and she groaned, putting one hand up to her head. "I think she's coming around." Morgan opened her eyes to see Inigo watching her with concern. "Hey," he said, a smile crossing his face.

"Inigo."

There were footsteps and Morgan turned her head to see who was coming. Lissa was walking toward them. "I'm glad to see you're awake," the sage said happily. "How are you feeling?"

Morgan covered her face, groaning again. "Like I have a massive hangover."

"How would you know what that feels like?" Inigo asked teasingly.

"I did have a life before you met me, Inigo." Morgan gave him a small smile that quickly faded. She slowly sat up, rubbing her aching head. "How long was I out?"

"Long enough for me to get you back to camp."

There was a moment of silence. Lissa leaned heavily on her staff. "You look like you're hungry, Morgan, can I get you anything?"

"Oh, yes, please." The mere thought of food made the tactician's mouth water. Lissa smiled and left the tent. Morgan glanced around, then at her husband. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"I almost killed you. I lost hope, my sense of who I was. I couldn't stop myself…I killed so many people in cold blood, and with each I could hear his voice growing louder in my head."

"Whose voice?"

"His. The fell dragon's voice." Morgan's eyes were wide with fear now, her voice low and frightened. "He was egging me on, pushing me further over the edge. I almost gave up and gave in, but you stopped me. You drove him away with a single kiss."

"Well, I have been told I kiss like an angel." Inigo wiggled his eyebrows, a cheeky smirk crossing his face.

Morgan rolled her eyes, a smile on her own face. "And who told you that?"

"Oh, this fine young lady I know. She happens to be my wife." Morgan smiled as a blush crossed her husband's cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love her more than anything. I was so worried when she disappeared, but I knew she'd be okay, because she's a brilliant tactician. Her skills rival those of her father." He paused, seeing Morgan look away, tears in her eyes. She fidgeted slightly in his embrace. "Sorry. I'm sure he's fine. He's surpassed death before. And we've a plethora of fine healers to set him on the mend."

Morgan nodded. "Thank you, Inigo. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anything for the smartest and most beautiful girl I know."

Morgan blushed at the complement and snuggled into his embrace. They didn't get long to sit in peace before the flaps of the medical tent flew open. "Sis!" Morgan was only able to draw herself from Inigo's arms before being nearly tackled by a pair of small arms. Mor hugged her sister tightly, refusing to let go.

"Hey, Mor," Morgan greeted, freeing one arm to hug her sister. She looked up and saw Lucina and Lissa following at a slower pace. The sage had a steaming bowl in one hand, and the smell made Morgan's mouth water.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Lucina said, hugging Morgan despite Mor's persistent clinging. "I was so worried about you." She let go. "Come on, Mor, let your sister eat."

Mor reluctantly let Morgan go, instead sitting next to her. With her arms free, Morgan accepted the bowl of stew from Lissa with a quick thanks, not hesitating to eat the delicious food as fast as she could.

"Slow down there," Inigo laughed. "You'll make yourself sick."

Morgan glanced up at him, licking her lips. "If you'd been locked up for…however long it was…"

"Over two weeks," Lissa supplied.

Morgan nodded. "And they only gave you water and a scrap of food once a day, you'd want to eat as fast as possible, too." That said, she returned to her meal.

Lucina sighed with sorrow, sitting by Inigo on the cot next to Morgan's. "Well, at least it's all over now. Cynthia flew over from the battlefield to let me know the battle was over. Ryker is dead, and the remaining Grimleal have surrendered and are in Arata's custody."

"Arata? Isn't that the king of Plegia?"

"Yes. He accompanied us from the border."

"He's also a fantastic poker player," Inigo added. "Kicked all our sorry butts the other night. I never heard Gaius swear so much before."

Morgan grinned for a moment and slurped up the last of the stew. She licked her lips one last time to make sure she got everything before sobering once more. "Did Cynthia say anything else?"

Lucina hesitated and glanced at Mor. "She mentioned a couple injuries, but didn't give any details." She rubbed her eyes, but Morgan could tell Cynthia had informed her of Nykolai. Morgan grit her teeth, feeling that same anger and despair. A nasty voice whispered in her head.

"Gods, he's back," Morgan muttered.

"Who's back?" Lucina asked. Morgan shook her head and felt Inigo take her hand. She remembered what he had told her and tried to calm down. Lucina sent a petitioning glance toward her aunt.

"Mor, come help me," Lissa suggested. The six-year-old nodded and hopped off the cot, going over to the sage, who showed her how to roll the thick cotton bandages that were needed for the wounded coming back from battle. Mor dutifully rolled the bandages, and handed them to Lissa, who sterilized them in hot water.

Morgan watched for a moment. "Morgan." She returned her attention to her mother. "Tell me what's going on. I know there was more than you just fainting on the battlefield, though having very little to eat probably played a part. What did they do to you?"

Morgan flinched at her mother's stern gaze, the Brand she bore on her left eye making her look more serious. But she relented, telling the whole story of her imprisonment, and what had happened during the battle. Lucina looked horrified, angry, and sad all at once. Morgan finished, rubbing the back of her left hand.

"How is it possible that Grima could be called up through you, Morgan?" Inigo asked softly. "You aren't him, and you certainly don't have his heart."

Morgan shook her head. "I…I don't know," she said, biting back a sob. "I just don't know."

There were shouts for Lissa outside the tent. The occupants froze and Lissa hurried from her task. "Mor, come here," Lucina said. Mor obeyed with confusion. Lucina set her in her lap, holding her tight, facing her away from the entrance, yet the little girl managed to turn her head and look. Lissa came back, holding the tent flaps open for Henry and Miriel, the former leaning on his wife despite his protests that he was okay with losing blood. Chrom and Libra, who supported between them a badly wounded yet fully conscious Nykolai, came next.

Mor squirmed, obviously seeing her father. "Daddy!" She struggled to break free of Lucina's arms, but the princess held firm, looking away from the sight of her husband. "Mommy, let me go! Daddy!"

Morgan, however, couldn't take her eyes away. Her father's entire front was covered with blood, dripping onto the ground and soaking into his favorite tactician's coat. His armor hadn't been enough to stop Ryker's last attack.

"I'll take her," Libra said as soon as he helped Nykolai onto a cot. "Be with your husband." Lucina gratefully let the holy man carry Mor from the tent, the child still fighting to get to her father. Lucina stood, hurrying to Nykolai's side. "I'll be fine, Luce," the grandmaster managed to croak before gasping as Lissa finally pried his armor off.

Morgan stood, tears in her eyes. "I can't take it," she sobbed softly, and hurried from the tent. Inigo followed her. He stepped outside, catching his wife's hand and pulling her into a hug. She sobbed into his shoulder. "I can't lose him again, Inigo. I just can't!"

"I know. It'll be okay, love. It's gonna be okay."

They stood for a few minutes, more Shepherds with wounds filing by to the medical tent. At a nearby fire pit, Libra was holding Mor back from returning to her father. Morgan took a deep breath, extracting herself from Inigo's embrace. "Let's go back to my tent and rest," Inigo suggested. "We'll bring Mor along so Libra can help the wounded." Morgan nodded and sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve.

Mor, once they had returned to Inigo's tent, cried herself to sleep. In the silence, Morgan pulled off her gloves to inspect her hand. She didn't like what she saw. "Inigo…"

Her husband took her hand. There was her Brand of the Exalt, which she'd had for as long as she could remember. But there was more. A faded pattern on her skin showed clearly the extent of Grima's influence on her. Behind the Brand of the Exalt was the six-eyed mark of Grima, the same one Nykolai had borne before killing the fell dragon.

"Maybe…" Morgan said, tugging her glove back on. "Maybe he was able to manifest himself because of my father. So what does that mean for Mor?"

"Hopefully nothing. The exalted blood in strong in you both, and you have a good heart."

"I'm weaker than my father. He never gave into Grima at all."

"You were weak from lack of food, Morgan. You've a strong mind and soul. Don't let sorrow take you. He feeds on despair." Morgan nodded. "Go to sleep, love."

"I don't want to sleep."

Inigo took her in his arms, careful not to disturb Mor, who was asleep at the end of the cot. "Then at least rest."

Nykolai saw his daughter leave, feeling a pang of concern for her. Then everything was thrown from his mind as the pain flared up again. He felt Lucina's hand on his shoulder, and vaguely heard her telling him to be still so Lissa could clean the wound. "Gods, Lissa," Nykolai growled. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out from the pain. He coughed, tasting more blood in his mouth. He coughed again, unable to get a full breath.

"Aunt Lissa, he's choking on his own blood." Lucina's voice sounded incredibly panicked.

Lissa's response was to swear. She reached for her mend staff and healed the wound. Then she grabbed Nykolai's shoulder, rolling him onto his side where he continued to cough up blood. He finally calmed, though his breathing was harsh as he rolled once more onto his back. Lucina wiped his mouth with her sleeve, tears forming in her eyes.

"Can't you do anything else?" she asked.

Lissa shook her head. "There's only so much a staff can do, unfortunately. It's all up to him now. I can give him something for the pain."

"Oh gods, yes, Lissa," Nykolai gasped. Lissa nodded and hurried off.

"You idiot," Lucina muttered to her husband. "You said you'd be safe."

"I tried. I really did." He coughed slightly. "I'm still here, right?"

"Yes, thank the gods, you are."

Lissa returned with a small cup in hand. She lifted the grandmaster's head and helped him drink the potion. "Let me know if he starts coughing badly again," the sage said. Lucina nodded and her aunt moved off to tend to the next wounded Shepherd.

Nykolai could feel the pain fading fast, and with the relief came utter fatigue. Everything seemed distant. He raised a hand to Lucina's face, wiping her tears with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Luce. I'm so sorry."

Lucina cupped his hand with her own. "Don't be," she said. "It's not your fault."

"I…let you down….I promised I would stay by your side but…"

"Don't talk like that!"

Blackness curled into his vision. "I'm sorry." His hand went limp, falling from his beloved's face, and he knew no more.

Author's notes: So as I was posting this, I thought something along the lines of "Nykolai's derping around as usual". I'm really sleepy (I just woke up), but I'm not sleepy enough to say that there are very few edits to this chapter. I added a few tidbits, fixed typos and the like, but for the most part, it's not very changed. This was one chapter I was pretty much content with.

Hope you enjoyed!

Also, I received a request for clarification from a reviewer in regards to Henry. I added an extra note at the end of last chapter to respond the question (because I was like Nykolai and derped around as usual). Hope it clears things up.

Originally published 1/2/2014, edited 4/25/2014