Part 2: Fell-Blood

First thing Morgan noticed when he woke up: a severe headache.

Second thing he noticed when he woke up: he was back in his room in the castle.

Third thing he noticed when he woke up: Robin was practically hovering over him, her expression showing a combination of guilt and worry with the latter most prominent.

Fourth and last thing he noticed when he woke up: a quiet voice in the back of his mind, saying something he couldn't understand.

Morgan groaned, fully opening his eyes and just looking at Robin for a few moments.

"Thank the gods," Robin muttered. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, I think so," Morgan replied. "I mean…I have a headache now, but besides that, I'm still alive, so…"

"You know I don't like joking about serious matters," Robin said firmly; she still spoke a bit quietly, however. "You very well could've died. I can't… I don't want to have to think about what would happen if you did." She paused for a few minutes, and sighed. "I suppose it is my fault, though. Chrom convinced me that you'd be fine. Well-meaning idiot. I shouldn't have let you go…I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Mother; it's fine," Morgan said. "I'm okay…nothing I haven't already lived through." He sat up—or at least, he tried to. Robin still looked a bit concerned, but didn't say anything. "How'd Lucina get me back to the castle?"

"She brought you to the nearest town and sent us a letter giving us the general situation," Robin explained. "That was three days ago. Lucina went back to see if Loralis was in the same state as you, but Loralis was found dead."

"Loralis had almost been impaled by Parallel Falchion," Morgan recalled, mostly to himself. "Was that what killed her?"

"It played a part in her death, yes, but it wasn't the main reason," Robin said. "We're trying to figure out the exact cause, but so far we haven't come up with anything sensible. The few answers we have are definitely concerning, though." Her pause afterwards implied that she didn't plan on sharing more, so Morgan didn't pry, instead moving on to a related but slightly different topic of conversation.

"Is Lucina okay?" Morgan asked. "She knows Loralis' death isn't entirely her fault, right?" Killing others was something that Morgan knew that most of his friends weren't comfortable with; they were raised in relative peace and, with a few exceptions, were taught to disable as opposed to outright murder. Although 'murder' always seemed like too strong of a word to use in most cases.

"She's in better shape than you are," Robin admitted. "She didn't immediately go to her room, but she seemed to have hard time opening up about it. Chrom's already established that she was doing what she could to protect you, and with that in mind, she didn't do anything wrong; at least not in our eyes."

Morgan nodded, and the two fell into silence again. Silence, silence, silence…the ever-present drawback of talking to others.

Thankfully, it didn't last too long. "Would you like me to get something for you to eat?" Robin asked. "It's a bit late, but I don't want you to starve and I'd like for you to get more rest."

"Sure," Morgan replied.

"I'll be back shortly, then," Robin promised. "I'll try to see if we have anything that can help with your headache, as well."

She left, and he just stared at the door for a little while.

The quiet voice he had heard when he first woke up again became increasingly louder. Except it wasn't just one voice. It was many; maybe a couple dozen. He didn't recognize any of them. He couldn't completely tell what they were saying, though.

The voices were accompanied by an odd warmth that Morgan knew wasn't actually there, as if he was standing among a massive fire. Thinking on it more, were some of the voices…screaming?

Perhaps the weirdest thing about all of it was that it quieted back down again as Robin came into his room carrying a small tray with some food and water.

"Apparently we don't have anything to remedy headaches," she said, setting the tray down and putting the water on the small table beside his bed. "I can go out to Ylisstol tomorrow to see if there's a shop selling any."

"Thank you," Morgan said. Robin headed towards the door to leave, but Morgan looked over at her. "Can you stay, actually?" If it weren't for the fact that he was getting exhausted just by sitting up, he would be curious to see if the voices came back when she left. However, he didn't want to leave it to chance, either, and he would prefer the company.

"Of course," Robin replied, turning back to look at him. "Chrom's already decided to split my work between him, Lissa, and Malin; I might as well spend that time with you." He could tell it wasn't her first option, but she seemed glad for the offer nonetheless.

Robin cleaned off one of the extra chairs, pulling it a bit closer to his bed, and the two of them fell into a general conversation. It was nice; Morgan enjoyed spending time with his mother, even if the reasons why he wanted to was a bit selfish. There was a part of him, however, that felt bitter…but he couldn't fully figure out why.

(A/N: For the record, "well-meaning idiot" is a backhanded compliment-of-sorts. It's not exactly an insult, but it's not really a compliment either.)