{}{}{Anna}{}{}

Two hundred and fifty gold.

"Lady Anna?"

Five thousand silver.

"Lady Anna, if I may-"

Two hundred and fifty thousand copper.

"Th' sunrises in Ferox are beauts this time of year-"

Two and three fifths stones of salt. Help me.

"I s'ppose what I'm trying to say, Lady Anna, is that I would mighty enjoy yer company while watchin' the sunrise."

Wait, no, there's leftover gold from that! Hopefully that rounds easily? Two stone, that's one ninety, then three fifths, that's fifty eight... no, fifty seven.

Two and three fifths stones of salt and three gold. There.

That was how much I was being paid to get hit on by this idiot for a week and a half, in the name of Khan Basilio, and deliver more basic supplies than is reasonable for an army. Honestly, they're just inefficient, if you ask me. But I'm not complaining.

"Thinkin' thoughts too big for us simple men, eh? You got an answer, Lady Anna?"

Stop calling me that. Stop it. If he wasn't going to give up, and you'd think he would on the tenth day of our ten and a half day trek, I had to turn him down. Again. Breathe, Anna, and remember: money. And it couldn't even rain in Ferox this time of year, which was fantastic if you have a coat as great as mine.

I looked out over the snowy, glittering predawn fields before us. I could see the morning campfires getting lit- good Naga it was too early for this- and I'd done nothing but lay in my bedroll and read awful romance novels. A cozy start to a day that would net me large sums of money. What more could a girl ask for?

Oh, right.

I turned to the idiot, shot him a half-lidded glare, and rolled my eyes. "Rodrick. Didn't I ask, specifically, for you all to not bother me unless it was related to my job?"

Rodrick stiffened, doing his best to smoulder handsomely and apologetically around the late-teen acne. "W-well, Lady Anna-"

"Miss Anna," I corrected him, pulling my white coat tighter around myself, "I'm not a noblewoman, I'm a merchant."

"Well you look like a proper one," Rodrick muttered, looking over my shoulder rather than meeting my eyes, "I jus' thought you looked stressed and sad, La- Miss Anna."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, keeping both of my hands well away from my daggers. Nosy kids will be the bane of my existence, and I don't even have any of my own! "My health is not something you are paid to worry about Rodrick," I sighed, chewing on my lip, "Look, I need to get ready for our arrival, alright? If there's anything you need, or something in the schedule doesn't make sense, send someone to clarify."

"But the sun-"

I had to admire his bravery, but not his stupidity. He had both, which is what gets people killed. "The sunrise will happen tomorrow, Rodrick," I explained patiently, waving him off, "Now go. Off with you, alright?"

This time, wisely, Rodrick left without a word. I burned holes in his back the whole way out, watching him walk out of sight.

And once he was out of sight, and out of hearing, I let out a squee of relief. "Free!" I cheered to myself, sauntering over to my campfire, "Free at last. Six more hours, and I'll be sitting with the West Khan and taking his money. And surely he'll need a little more help, hm?"

The fire crackled and sputtered in response, tossing embers to the wind. I watched those embers as they danced into the dark, fading like fireflies at dawn. And with dawn so close- thank you for reminding me, Rodrick- it felt kind of poetic.

But that was all. Sighing- though I wasn't sure why- I turned around to get my ingredients for breakfast. My mood soured instantly, tarnishing like wet silver.

Like a complete idiot, I'd left my ingredients in a crate by the fire last night! Sure, great for lazy early-morning Anna! Awful for, oh, I don't know, common sense? What if someone stole it? That was maybe seventeen silver in meals! None of the Khan's men seemed particularly shady, true, but goods vanishing on the last day of a caravan's journey is to be expected. People are impulsive, taking things for whatever reasons they have.

And I'd just bought a new Preservation staff (two gold, yes, two), so that crate was nearly three gold I could've lost overnight. Worse, it would've thrown off my plans to cook up a few large pots of soup stock for the next stages of my travels. And without soup, I'd be cranky all the time, and...

I snorted, releasing my frustration in as many languages as possible. Getting grumpy before breakfast would make my job even harder, so I needed to set my feelings aside. Also, I was hungry. Fishing around in the crate, I pulled out a large sack of dried oats, powdered milk, and honey.

Carefully moving the pot so it was properly over the fire, I poured in some water and mixed in the powdered milk. Once that was done, I could toss in the oats and drip some honey over it, and bam! Good breakfast for dirt cheap. Gets boring after a while, but I doubted I'd ever get sick of oatmeal.

Reaching back into the crate, I came out with a bag of jerky. I stuck out my tongue- jerky? Yeah, I could get sick of jerky. The bag went back into the crate, entirely unopened.

Another day, another empty feeling in a place I couldn't figure out.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The empty feeling followed me through the oatmeal, looming in my thoughts as I tried to get through another chapter of cheesy romance. It shadowed my footsteps through the Sunrise, and frankly refused to stop bothering me as I rounded up the caravan for our final stretch. We had money to make and supplies to deliver- I didn't much care about why, but I let them have their patriotic moments anyways. Morale was difficult to put a price on, after all.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Before I go on, I should explain how I got here, and why I'm also a complete idiot.

I arrived in the Western Capital- Regna Vakaru, which translated roughly to Kingdom of the West, brilliantly- with a caravan funded by Boris. I got them the best deals I could manage, took the money Boris had set aside for me, and looked for another job. Preferably one that paid large amounts of money.

And, that very same day, I found one! A stroke of the good ol' Anna family luck, and I really do mean luck. See, the West-Khan was looking for someone to deliver a massive list of supplies to a specific fort on the Wall. On that order was a particular sort of Peach Tea. And failing that, green tea leaves, dried peaches, and a few assorted herbs!

Not sure why anyone would want that kind of Peach Tea- it gives women awful cramps, benefits be damned- but I had green tea leaves. Lots of them, to sell at a premium.

Which I did, once they agreed to give me the job. Two hundred and fifty gold, plus twenty for the tea. I wasn't able to come up with much in the way of peaches, but what did you expect? It's winter. They'd survive with half a month's worth.

So, ten and a half days later, I found myself at the base of the wall thinking myself a genius.

It all came crashing down thanks to a short, thin woman with white hair, creepy red eyes, and ink-stained... everything. Oh, and she was wearing an oversized Grimleal coat. Excellent.

So this woman introduced herself as Robin, Tactician of the Shepherds, and I immediately swore in as many languages as I could manage off the cuff.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

When Robin's expression turned from baffled to vaguely hurt-looking, I bit my lip and pushed the hair out of my eyes. Come on, Anna, pull it together. All the old tricks should work here- just look at her body language, honestly. Wide stance, rounded shoulders, and at least two nervous habits on display.

She knows I'm an Anna, but if she's like most people I can get away with being any of them.

All of that happened before Robin was even able to open her mouth. Plastering a glittering smile on my face, I reached out with both hands and clasped them around one of hers. Ugh, I'd need to wipe off that ink later. The girl needed gloves- did I have gloves to sell? Of course I do. I'm in Ferox, and some idiot always forgets to bring gloves.

She also needed to stop chewing on her nails.

"It's great to meet you, Robin. I've heard good things about you, and I'd never pass up the chance to meet a future loyal customer," I began, shaking her hand before stepping back. I pulled out my list of supplies, reading them over quickly. My fake (but believable!) smile warped into an equally fake scowl. "Of course, I've heard about what my sister did to one of her companions- awful stuff, really. What was his name? Drew? Well, it's none of my business."

Robin ran a hand through her hair, and I decided she was buying gloves from me whether she liked it or not. Or at least a good handkerchief, because Robin's hair was way too nice for her to be getting ink in it. "A-ah. Right, Chrom said there were multiple Annas, and- well, it's nothing you need to worry about. Can I see the inventory list?"

"Gladly," I singsonged, flipping the list around and offering it to her. "I have more copies, don't worry about ruining this one with ink stains. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get the peach tea as ordered, but I picked up dried peaches and green tea leaves. Hopefully that works?"

She furrowed her brow, fidgeting in place as a cold wind blew around us. She probably didn't notice, what with that gigantic coat (I noticed, but my coat was doing a good job of keeping me warm). Which reminded me- no frostbite in my workers, even if they were incredibly dense sometimes. Turning on my heel, I waved to the workers milling about. "Alright, everyone! It's time to unload- oh, Robin, should I have it processed through your Quartermaster, or the Khan's?"

"I can't read this," Robin concluded, blinking owlishly, "The supplies are for both armies, but our supply chain links up through... hm. Look for a pr- er, a red-haired pegasus knight named Cordelia, she's in charge of inventory."

They couldn't even be bothered to have an orderly supply chain, great. I pinched the bridge of my nose, making sure to hide the gesture by turning around to face the caravan workers.

Two hundred and fifty gold, Anna.

Now that was more than enough to pep me up! "Right then," I said cheerily, spinning around to face Robin again, "I'll talk to her and wrangle some soldiers. Lowball estimate, this takes us about two hours. Worst case, three. Now, of course, there's a matter of payment..."

Robin nodded, flexing her ink-stained fingers and stuffing the list into her pocket. "Basilio is just inside, I think. He was arm wrestling Vaike when I walked outside, and," Robin visibly reined herself in, shaking her head. "Well, you know what the West-Khan looks like, right?"

I'd never met him, but I'd heard of him- big buyer of swords from Chon'sin, especially those bluntly named Killer Edge-style swords. Killing Edge? Lethal Cut? Whatever. They were all overpriced kitchen knives made with poor quality iron, in my opinion. "Big man, dark skin, eyepatch? Doesn't know what a shirt is?" I confirmed, pointing one hand upwards. I smiled at Robin's nod, thanking her before turning around to yell at the caravan workers.

"Alright! I need to talk to the Khan about payment, and then find the Quartermaster. Make sure none of the goods are touched until after I come back, hm? And don't worry, you'll all get your gold."

I was paying them more than most caravan leaders would pay their guards, actually. Well-paid workers work harder, and some of these men had families to worry about. I'm not a monster.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

From the tension in my chest to the general antsiness of my thoughts, it was difficult to mask how bizarrely stressful watching the Shepherds was. So many noisy people bustling about with seemingly zero coordination, just doing their own things. Worse, the shape of the stone building just amplified the sound until everything was senseless nonsense.

Seemingly. That's a key word there! If Robin wasn't one of those hero-types, I'd try and hire her myself. It may have looked like chaos, but to a trained eye, it was easy to recognize that nobody was lingering- they had places to be. A sign of work and planning, or a coordinated effort by everyone to look busy. Except for the Khan and a blond, shirtless man sitting across from each other in a corner, of course.

And yes, I was people-watching on the clock. The West-Khan was arm-wrestling an equally muscular man, and it seemed polite to give him a minute to finish.

More grunting, more bulging muscles of various descriptions.

...they weren't going to finish.

Clasping my hands politely, I cleared my throat. "Khan Basilio?"

"AHA! Now's the chance for Teach to take charge!" The other man barked, grinning toothily as he pushed his full body weight into the Khan's arm.

Basilio smiled back, pulling his arm out of his opponent's grasp and standing up to face me. The other man went crashing to the ground, groaning the way men with injured pride usually do.

The Khan's eyes sparkled with mischief, one hand gripping the other arm by the wrist as he flexed his fingers. "Oho, an Anna? I told the pen-pushers to get me the best around, and they delivered! Ha! So, what do I owe you? I don't have any firstborn children laying around."

I liked this one. Straight to the point, even if he emphasized the point a little loudly. I spread my hands, not even needing to fake my smile. "And as always, the Anna family delivers! Not just on time, but ahead of schedule by an hour, give or take," I let my smile turn into a sly smirk as I continued, "Sorry, we don't accept children anymore. Limits our clientele, you see... but to business. This won't take long."

"It won't? Ha!" Basilio crossed his arms over his chest, "Good. Vaike's about ready for another round. What do I owe you?"

Two hundred fifty gold for me, thirty workers (well, guards that also moved supplies), two supervisors, general operating costs... I knew the cost already, but it didn't hurt to check it over before giving the old man a heart attack.

"That comes out to a full price of thirteen stone salt, sixty-five gold, and two copper. Eight stone has already been paid by your treasury, and I'll waive a few minor fees to bring it down to... five and three fifths stone of salt."

Everyone within earshot winced. I enjoyed that a little more than was strictly reasonable.

Basilio held strong, though. No heart attacks, either! "Shouldn't there be some silver in there? Standard rate for workers is five gold and twelve silver."

"Ugh," the shirtless muscular man- Vaike, I assumed- grunted, settling himself back into the seat. "Math. Teach lets the eggheads do that. Never took ya for one a' those, Basilio!"

I restrained the urge to massage my temples, gritting my teeth and maintaining my smile all the while. Khan Basilio having his finger to the pulse of his economy was a surprise, but more welcome than some idiot noble yelling at me about something later. I swear to Naga, if I had a gold coin for every time I've been yelled at for costs on the ledger, right in front of their eyes...

Well, I'd still be here, but I'd be slightly richer, which was always nice. "Excellent catch, Khan Basilio. You don't manage a whole country- ah, half of it, at the moment- without learning a few things, I'm sure. Would you like a full cost breakdown, or just a brief on it?"

Vaike had a pained look on his face. "Khan, don't tell me you're gonna say yes."

The Khan grinned again. "Ha! I let Flavia win for a reason, Vaike, and this was a rush order."

That was an understatement to say the least.

"But you need to divvy up some gold to your workers now, don't you," the Khan continued, stroking his chin, "And I have four stone salt and plenty of gold lying around. Hm. Vaike, I'm afraid we're going to have to continue this later."

Vaike grumbled, forehead planted on the table. "Whatever."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

I'm not going to ramble on about personal accounting and money forever, even if I'd like to. The menial but satisfying nature of managing money and people was just that: menial. Cathartic, mind-numbing at times, and boring to talk about after a certain point.

Not boring to do, as I said. Just boring to talk about.

By the time I'd come back outside, substantially richer than before might I add, I was met with the first genuine blessing of the day.

Workers buzzed about, moving crate after crate and sack after sack off the carts. At the center of it all was a Pegasus Knight with long red hair and a heart-shaped face- as pretty as she was dangerous, I could tell. I had no doubt that this was the woman Robin had mentioned earlier; not because of any gut instinct, but because I had eyes.

Only a quartermaster would look this exhausted before lunch, not when the Shepherds were so obviously moving out in the next day or two.

"You'd be Cordelia, right?" I sauntered up to her, hand outstretched and a smile on my face.

"Ink's already offloaded, shift to the back of the row with extraneous," the woman frowned, visibly straining against the urge to tap her charcoal stick to her lips. Scribbling something down, she nodded. "No, Robin needs that. But she'll just steal it again unless I... hm. Oh!" she batted her eyes, turning towards me and looking towards the ground. "Sorry. Did you say something, miss... Anna, probably?"

Great. Was there anyone normal in the Shepherds?

Then again, I tended to lose myself in thought too. At least I kept my hair at a reasonable length, even if I was really jealous of her hair care skills. I'd pay good money to have hair that long and smooth.

"Anna, definitely," I agreed, wiggling my fingers, "Love the hair by the way. As a fellow redhead, I've always wanted to try growing it out that long, but," I shrugged, "Maybe someday."

Cordelia blushed, still not quite meeting my eyes. Juggling all sorts of parchment and notepaper, she finally took my hand and shook it firmly. "O-oh, thanks. Um, you're the caravan leader, correct? What were these peaches and tea leaves for? I didn't see them on the formal requisition forms, so either they weren't supposed to be offloaded or they're not part of my stock."

My grin became a bit more real. "Nice to meet you, Cordelia. The peaches and tea leaves are for," I hummed, "I don't know, but try sending them to the healers. The Church of Naga loves tea, and I wouldn't doubt for a second they'd put tea on a military requisition list."

Nodding, Cordelia scribbled something down. "Right. I'll send that over with the next group heading to that section of the convoy. Move those aside, and... oh, do you have time to spare? This might take a while."

I glanced around the fort, wincing as the glare caught me at odd angles. It was right around lunch, but a gut feeling told me that I shouldn't eat when the Shepherds were there. That gut feeling, of course, being self-preservation. I held no illusions about what Tiki would do if she cornered me.

I nodded along with Cordelia's questions, answering as needed and helping her direct the flow of supplies. It was pleasant, right up until-

"You're the Anna that Andrew won't talk about, correct?"

-right. My blood ran cold, a rippling tension that brought one hand straight to the pommel of a dagger.

I knew she was smart, and the woman in charge of supplies would have met Andrew. I hadn't expected her to figure it out given such minimal information, but it was impressive to say the least. At least it was the second confirmation I'd gotten today that he was alive.

"Of course I'm not," I replied smoothly, putting on my best fake grin and wink, "I have standards, Cordelia, and-" if I stab someone in the back, I'd be an idiot to return to the crime. "-and betrayal isn't exactly profitable when you have the family name to uphold."

"Hm," Cordelia hummed, "With all due respect, Anna, I should be arresting you under Ylissean law, but there's no evidence that you're the one responsible. Why are there so few Killing Edges in this shipment?"

There we go, back to normal. Good enough. The tension refused to leave my body, sticking like wet cold on a winter day. Which made this lovely and expensive jacket kind of useless, honestly. "Please," I snorted, "Have you never packaged those things? They'll fracture in transit if you put too much weight on the sides of the blades. I spread it out across several containers."

"Oh no, oh dear," Cordelia worried, brow furrowed, "I've been storing them the way I do longswords this whole time... now I have to check my entire stock. Oh, hello, Lady Tiki."

Good people- heroes- I cursed venomously- didn't forget things so easily. I was an idiot to think she'd dropped it! Maybe Tiki wouldn't- no, I had more respect for her than that. She knew. Dancing to the side, I bolted into the fort as fast as my boots could carry me.

[][Andrew][]

The supply caravan coming in was a massive relief, as long as your name wasn't Andrew.

If your name was Andrew, you were too busy with a Nowi-sized and Nowi-shaped object directing you around the fort to even worry about it. There was that thing about being left here, left away from everything I knew, but, um. For one, Nowi can fly. And Pegasus Knights exist.

Sumia and I had talked about it over cooking dinner, which turned into a three course meal once Stahl got involved. Before we really knew what was happening, there was roast turkey and about a dozen rhubarb pies.

On the upside, I managed to get a go at making ketchup. Vaike said it was a delicious tomato juice, which was a solid endorsement of it not being ketchup at all.

It was pretty good tomato juice.

"Andrew..." Nowi drawled, tugging on my hair, "You're staring at the wall again. I wanna put more sugar in this."

"I don't think fudge needs that much sugar, Nowi," I sighed, "Fudge is like, almost exclusively sugar already."

"Uh-huh. But it still smells like that weird milk stuff you made, and," I could guess what sort of face she was making, "Bleh. Tasted awful."

"You're not supposed to drink condensed milk on its own, Nowi," I sighed, chuckling as I walked over to the shelf. "But... you're probably right, actually. More sugar it is."

"Yay! I love sugar. Maribelle says I can't have a bunch, but she's boooring and doesn't like being covered in mud. Or frogs."

I winced. "You too?"

"Yeah!" Nowi giggled, "She puffs up and goes all red like a tomato! It's funny."

"...We'll agree to disagree," I shrugged, "Try not to torment her too much, alright? Maribelle's a very important woman, and she does a lot of good."

"Which is why she needs frogs," Nowi said sagely, "Frogs are important and do a lot of good too."

"If this is Lissa's doing, I'll do- absolutely nothing because she is the princess," I sighed, "Where did you get frogs?"

"From Lissa," Nowi said simply, "Andreeeew. I'm getting sore from holding this bag of sugar. Move me back."

"I'll do nothing, because she is the princess," I nodded, doing my best to keep Nowi stable on my shoulders. Honestly, this was a fantastic workout for... muscles. Arm ones and leg ones and abdomen ones. I didn't know what they were called, and I resolved to ask Vaike about it, or Miriel if that didn't work.

Of course, right as things were starting to settle in, the world decided it'd had enough of that. Not Naga, of course. I'd met her.

To the point: Someone came careening through the door to the kitchen, a red-haired blur sliding on the flour that had caked the floor (don't ask), nearly crashing to the ground. She managed to recover, slamming the door closed and cursing in a lot of languages. The woman, clad in a really nice looking coat, planted her back against the door. Red eyes scanned the room, furtive and panicked.

I blinked at her, brow furrowed, and returned to making fudge.

A moment later, I really thought about it, and nearly burned my hand on the side of the pot. Deep breaths, Andrew. Resist the urge to scream, stab, or... whatever it was that I wanted to do. I couldn't really tell, honestly.

She couldn't either, from the looks of things. Biting her lip in that painfully familiar way, Anna looked everywhere but my face.

"You know," I wavered, hands trembling, "This isn't how I pictured us meeting."

"Well," Anna replied dully, not even trying to smile, "I don't think I wanted us to meet at all."

[][][][][][][][]

Author's Note:

Hey look, it's Anna!

Cheers,

Narwhal Lord