Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening.

I got sidetracked for a month and a bit with the Bravely series. Well, I'm not done being sidetracked, but I finally remembered I already have stories I'm working on, so here I am.

Morgan again.

"How do we deal with Risen?"

"Shoot them."

"A lot of Risen."

"Magic."

"Like, an army's worth of Risen."

"A lot of magic."

I roll my eyes to the sky. "Yes, thank you Nathan, I hadn't already considered that."

"I don't know why you're asking me in the first place. You're the tactician." Nathan points out.

"I'm asking because I'm stumped."

"And you expect me to be able to think of something new?"

"I was hoping you'd suggest something so ridiculous it might work."

"You flatterer." Nathan says sarcastically. "Have you considered asking Owain then? Cynthia maybe?"

"Ooh, that's an idea!" I say, faking excitement. "We can run at them while spouting catchphrases and use the power of our legendary iron swords to die in less than five minutes!"

"See? Perfect plan." Nathan murmurs as he hefts a crate out of the wagon and over to a tent.

"Fucking brilliant." I say, and kick my legs furiously from where I'm sitting on the side edge of the wagon. "Fucking awful."

"Mmm…"

"I don't know what to do Nathan!" I shout, throwing my arms up in the air. "Their position is too good! I have to take into consideration an army! Two armies! Ours and the stupid Risen!"

"A good thing you're not the only one making decisions then." Nathan says. "And who says you have to do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not the tactician of the Rosannite or the Chon'sinese armies. You're a tactician of the Shepherds." Nathan says. "If you can't think that big, don't. The Shepherds can operate on their own. That's sort of what they're good at, right? Just figure out what the Shepherds should do. Leave the army stuff to the army generals."

My first instinct is to roll my eyes and make a sarcastic comment. I can't just ignore armies… except he has a point. I'm trying to do something I'm not good at. I'm a tactician, and one that specializes in small unit tactics.

"Of course, that might just be my proclivity to ignore problems I don't know how to deal with speaking." Nathan admits. "So, uh, make of that what you will."

Hmm… "What's the Shepherds' job?"

"To kill things."

"No." I say. "Well, yes, but more specific than that. Our job right now is to support the armies."

"Sure." Nathan shrugs, and he grabs another crate. "So how can we do that?"

"I don't know!" I say cheerfully. "But establishing that felt important!"

Nathan huffs and shakes his head, just a bit.

"Maybe we could venture into the Risen hoard and try to root out the sorcerers?" I suggest aloud.

"Too big an area to search with a small group." Nathan says. "No guarantee they're even there either."

True. "We could… clear a path…?"

"Thirty people are going to clear a path for multiple thousand?"

Okay, scrap that. "Killjoy."

"No, no, by all means, lead us all on a suicide mission." He shoots back. "You're the genius tactician. I'm just a lowly… uh… whatever my job title is."

"Soldier, I think." I say, and scrunch up my nose at him. "Also fuck you."

He pats my knee as he walks back to the wagon for another crate. "Love you too dear."

"Don't make me kick you." I say, kicking the air where Nathan isn't.

"Please don't."

"Fine. Then can I kiss you, but angrily?"

"Sure."

I hop off the wagon, wait for him to put his crate down, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and mash my mouth against his for a few seconds. His hands gently rest on my back, then not so gently hold onto me as I keep pressing forward and he starts to lose his balance.

I pull off him after a few long seconds, still scowling in mock anger and some genuine frustration (not at him, of course), but feeling a bit more calm. Nathan is slightly flustered, but otherwise composed, though it's hard for him to actually look composed when I'm still gripping the collar of his shirt so tightly and scowling at him.

"I don't know what to do Nathan." I grumble, and bump my forehead against his. "Stupid Risen."

"You'll figure out something Morgan." Nathan soothes. His hands come up and pull my hair back out of my face, and his smile is as sappy and affectionate as always. "You're a genius, after all."

"I'm not so sure I will." And I really mean that. This problem might just be too big, in a literal sense, for me to adequately deal with. Even if I just look at what the Shepherds can do, we can't meaningfully affect the Risen hoard unless we know where the stupid sorcerers are (or if there even are any sorcerers).

"Then Robin will, or Say'ri, or Virion. One way or another, someone will think of something."

"You don't know that." I grumble some more.

"I don't." He agrees. "It's just probable. With enough people thinking about one problem, someone will come up with a usable solution."

I sincerely hope so.

"Now, as much as I like staring up your nose, can you let me go so I can finish working?" Nathan asks cheekily. He really is trying to take all the fun out of me being taller than him, isn't he?

"No." I pout. I stop grabbing his collar so I can wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly against myself, pinning his arms to his side in the process. "I'm not done with you."

"Sure, sure." He smiles. "So you're going to help me then?"

"What?"

"I have a schedule, Morgan. As much as I'd like to play around with you, I need to finish my chores first."

I mutter some extremely foul things under my breath. I wanted a distraction and I can't even get that unless I help? "Fine. I'll help."

"You don't have to. I can handle it." He reassures. "I was mostly joking."

"I know, but I need a distraction, and I guess doing chores is a distraction." I huff. "I'm not making any progress in figuring out what to do, so I might as well."

"Alright." He says. "You're still going to have to let me go though."

Unfortunately.

###

"I mean… we could move out troops in small numbers, so if the Risen do get summoned we at least minimize losses?" I say, not liking the words as they exit my mouth.

"I suppose, but that feels like a failure on our part to come up with a better solution." Father mutters.

I nod in agreement. "Yeah."

We both stare at the map. All the pins signifying troops and the small tokens for suggested movements blur together into a mesh of colors that barely makes sense despite the fact that we've been staring at it for hours, and that's only compounded by the fact that we both know our solution probably isn't coming from big troop movements at all

A decision was made that we are, in fact, going to back down into Rosanne and go around to meet the Valmese army at the west rather than try to charge through the Risen field and take the offensive.

"I don't suppose we can just counterspell any Risen summonings?" I ask.

"Counterspelling is more art than science, and it's highly dependent on the skill of the caster and opposing caster. Not to mention 'catching' a spell isn't easy to begin with." Father says with a shake of his head. "Counterspelling is only really viable against spells with a long cast time, or with a long duration that you can cut short, and even then it's hard if you don't understand the spell being used. So if we could spot the casting as it's happening, maybe we could counterspell, but we'd have to rely on every single mage in the armies being able to successfully counterspell a spell they've never looked into before that's likely coming from a highly skilled sorcerer."

"Bah…"

"Not a terrible idea though." Father says. "It's better than anything I've come up with."

If that is our best plan, I'm worried. "We can't just sit here. We have to get the army moving. Valm already has a few days' lead on us."

"I know." Father says. "I know…"

"We might have to accept there will be some losses."

"I know." Father says. He plants his hands on the table and leans over the map a bit more. His tired eyes haphazardly scan the mess of pins and tokens for the hundredth time today. "But I can't accept that just yet. There has to be an angle we haven't considered."

"There probably is." I want to say. "But we also might not have the time to find it."

"Maybe if we can just spread out the bodies well enough…?" Father mutters, tapping some purple pins on the map. We can't stop the Risen from being summoned, but the Risen are going to be made of the corpses of the armies, and we can control where that happens. The problem is that if we put all the bodies in one area we're begging for an entire army to spout up in one place, but spreading them out seeds the undead through our entire camp and will cause it's own brand of chaos. "If we have mages guard them, we can have them torch the Risen in small groups as soon as they start to rise."

"Are we sure Rosanne and Chon'sin have that many mages?" I ask.

"Not really." Father admits. "But it might be a better plan. We can have the corpses disarmed and guarded, if not with mages at least with heavily armored guards. Even elite Risen can't do much against an armor knight without a weapon."

"That means we have to carry all the corpses with us as we go then." I say.

"Yes." Father nods. "And that doesn't do anything to help deal with the burials that have already been done."

"Better than crossing our fingers and praying we can counterspell at least." I say. "We can leave heavily armored units as rearguards to deal with Risen coming up from burial mounds."

"There's still going to be a lot of Risen at our backs." Robin muses. "But we can probably afford to leave the manaketes in the rear to deal with that."

"But it's not that simple." I frown. "Is it? Or we would have thought of this earlier."

"It's not." Robin agrees. "After all, some of those corpses used to be mages, and they don't actually need tomes to cast spells. Not to mention that spreading out the corpses is difficult in itself. We only have so many wagons, and obviously we can't have people carrying the corpses when they come to life."

"Hmm…" I frown. "And we can't leave the bodies of our dead troops on the ground or else the living ones will protest that we didn't bury them."

"And burying them has the problem of us not being able to see when they're reanimated." Father adds. "Which could cause needless extra deaths, not to mention that leaving bodies in place means more and more will end up behind us, so the rearguard will end up with even more foes to deal with if the sorcerers decide to wait for us to move a bit before summoning."

"And we can't allocate too many troops to the rear or else if the summon comes quickly the main body of the army will be hit hard." I say.

"Precisely."

I stare at the map, my eyes tired and aching. "I wonder… I wonder if we're just overthinking this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the Risen are going to be unarmed. Minus a few mages, maybe the soldiers won't have an issue dealing with them when they rise again. Any given soldier with any weapon can probably take on an unarmed Risen after all."

Father mulls it over a bit before slowly nodding. "I suppose that's true… but the most we can say is it will probably be fine."

"I think that's as good as we're getting Father."

"Maybe, but we need to keep looking right up until we don't have more time." Father insists. "Anything that could save more lives."

I hold in a frustrated sigh, but I nod. He's right, of course, but we've been at this for hours and I'm tired and I just want to fucking sleep. I guess that's just the price I pay for being in a position of relative power.

"Right then." I mutter, and squeeze my eyes shut to give them a break for a moment. "How about we try and figure out positions for the corpses again?"

"Sure." Father nods. "And as always-"

"Worst case assumptions. I know." I grunt, reaching for one of the purple pins. "Alright, so, how about…"

###

Virion sweeps into the tent with his usual subtlety, which is to say none. "Sir Robin, Lady Morgan! How does the day find you?"

"Tired." Father says curtly. "Did you need something, Virion?"

"Only your company, dear friend!" Virion says. "Or at least your daughter's. I have come here on the most noble and notable mission of forcing a lunch break."

Father mutters something that sounds distinctly like a swear word under his breath (we've both been doing that a lot these last few days), and Virion tuts disapprovingly.

"Now now, that's no way to react to well-intentioned concern!" Virion scolds.

"Frederick put you up to this, didn't he?" Father grumbles, already writing out a few hasty notes in preparation to leave.

"Nathan actually." Virion says. "And in a way, lovely Cherche."

"If they aren't Frederick or Chrom's orders you can't force me to leave." Father mutters, but sets his own quill aside anyhow.

"Perhaps not, but I think you'd find my persistence much more inconvenient than simply playing along." Virion says. "...besides, I am in much the same boat. I am here at threat of wyvern because Cherche didn't want me to spend yet another meal hunched over a map. I thought to beg your daughter's company for a bit, and upon asking Nathan for her location he asked me to ensure you both ate. So, I am here to ask your daughter's company for a bite and a game... if only to appease our respective nannies."

I huff, because that's so true. "Well, if I have to take a break, I guess there are worse ways to spend it than winning at a game."

"Don't dismiss me so easily! I've kept in practice." Virion says, feigning offence.

"More than the girl who actually lives with the person who brought the game to this world?" I ask. Realistically that's not actually much of a brag, but sue me, I'm tired. That sounded good in my head.

"We shall see, won't we?"

I allow myself to be led out of the tent. Father follows for a moment before spying Mother and breaking off, which is fine by me. Virion leads me through the mess of tents that is the army camp for a few minutes to what I presume is his tent. It's bigger than mine or any of the Shepherds', being almost a full command tent in itself. It's very obviously Virion's thanks to the armor stand carrying his armor and the surprisingly simple longbow propped up against a dresser, as well as the unnecessary amount of flowers held inside various pots and a desk with a million papers on it that looks just as messy as mine or Father's.

There's also a table with Virion's chess set already out on it, and I don't hesitate to slump down into one of the chairs around it. Virion is much more graceful about taking his seat, but he's clearly exhausted as well.

"Food will be here soon. I sent for it before I fetched you." Virion smiles. "Now, black or white?"

"White." I say.

"Ahh, you wish for an advantage." Virion hums. "I see how it is."

"Nah, Nathan just always plays black." I shrug. "So I'm always white."

"How gracious of him."

I'm pretty sure it's just because black is his favourite color and by his own admittance he plays reactively much better than actively, but hey, we'll go with 'gracious' because it makes him sound good.

We play the first few turns at a relatively slow pace, and in total silence. Virion uses completely different openers from Nathan, whose first three moves are fairly predictable with only minor variations. Nathan likes to move up the king pawn or queen pawn to give a bishop and his queen access to the board right away, as well as contesting the center if I chose to open that way. Virion, on the other hand, is prioritizing his knights.

"Lady Morgan…" Virion says after a moment. "I heard whispers that you found yourself a most curious pastime while I was gone."

Interesting choice of topic, but then again, aside from the war, I guess there aren't many options. "Yeah. Politics. Just as much of a joke as I expected it to be."

"How blunt." Virion chuckles.

"Am I wrong?"

"Not in the slightest. Though it does beg the question as to why you chose politics in the first place."

"I'm sure I had a reason, but I can't remember now." I say honestly. "It was fun for a bit, then it was… well not boring, but it was work. Interesting work, but work."

"I'm crushed that I couldn't be around to mentor you." Virion sighs. "Together we could have been a force…"

"I'm not sure Ylisse could handle that much good taste." I chuckle. "Though I might have been more hindrance than help at first. I was a bit of a menace."

Virion raises an eyebrow. "Was?"

"Hey, nowadays I'm too tired to be a menace." I say. "I haven't antagonized someone in at least a few days."

"Your restraint is awe-inspiring." Virion says dryly.

"Everything about me is." I brag, though it might be undercut by the bags I know are under my eyes and my slumped posture. "Usually."

"I don't doubt it." Virion says politely. "I'm sure Nathan and your father would agree."

Nathan absolutely would because he adores me. I'm not so sure about Dad. He loves me of course, but in some ways I suspect I'm still a stranger claiming to be his daughter. I don't say this aloud, of course. I nod smugly, as if Virion is stating the obvious.

We hold a slow conversation about my time in politics while making even slower moves on the chessboard. The food arrives at some point during the midgame, and I have to remind myself to actually eat it rather than focus exclusively on the game.

Eventually the topic of my adventures in politics comes to a conclusion, and we dip into silence as I strain for another topic of conversation. I like Virion, but I really don't know horribly much about him. Asking about Rosanne is equivalent to asking about the war, which I don't want to do, and asking about his ventures in politics would probably amount to the same, but that strikes out all the easy topics.

"I must admit, I'm uncharacteristically at a loss for what to say." Virion says, apparently having the same issue as me. "The war makes so many logical topics undesirable, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." I agree, nodding.

"I could prattle on about archery, perhaps." Virion says, gesturing to his bow. "But I've long since surpassed the point that discussing it would be of any interest to anyone not an expert focused on minute details like myself.'

"I've really got no other hobbies or activities that would be interesting to talk about either." I muse. I mean, I could talk about Nathan because he's basically half my life, but I'm not so sure I want to be that person who won't shut up about their significant other, especially when not prompted.

Okay, I guess I don't care too much, but I'd rather not bother Virion. I actually kind of like him after all.

"I'm sure there's something you could speak about, and myself as well, and we're simply not thinking of it." Virion says. "The war has us… frazzled, to say the least."

Yeah, that's an understatement, and I guess we haven't really managed to avoid talking about the war at this point. "I can't wait for it to be over so I can go back to doing… well I dunno, but not constantly staring at the same map for hours on end."

"Here here." Virion sighs, raising his glass of water. "But I'm afraid you have many more days just like today ahead of you, dear tactician."

"Joy." I groan. "Why did I want this job again?"

"Because it's the best use of your skills."

"Gaaah…"

###

"You have your sword?"

"Yes Morgan."

"And your crossbow?"

"Yes Morgan."

"And armor?"

"Yes Morgan."

"And-"

"Yes, Morgan." Nathan says with a roll of his eyes. "I remember how to prepare for travel, thank you."

I bite my lip to stop myself from asking more questions. I know he's ready, but today we might get a second Risen army summoned on our heads. I think I'm justified in being a little worried, especially since I won't be next to him. All the important people are being spread out among the army to keep control of the chaos, and I'm one of them, but there's no way we can justify putting Nathan near me. Besides, he's going to be safest here, marching smack in the middle of all the other Shepherds.

That's only marginally reassuring when I won't be able to see that he's fine at a glance.

"Get going Morgan." Nathan urges, and gently pushes me away. "You've got somewhere to be."

"I have at least two minutes." I protest.

Nathan sighs, hugs me briefly, and kisses my forehead. "Stop stalling Morgan. Go."

Very reluctantly, I leave his side and make my way through the Rosannite ranks to my position. A Rosannite commander greets me when I arrive, and we do a quick, last-minute review of our position to make sure everything is in order.

Technically the commander is in charge and I'm just an advisor, because it's not like Virion is going to undermine the authority of his own officers by placing random foreigners in charge, but he's very polite and almost deferent to me despite that. I expect the rank of "Shepherd" carries some weight in his eyes, foreign or not.

At least, I assume so. I really don't know. It's not like I spent time chatting with Rosannite soldiers. Maybe the commander is just really polite.

I'm responsible for watching over a single legion. That's quite a few people. 10,000, in fact. Me and the commander are riding in the middle of that legion, using horses for height so we can keep an eye on all the potential problem points. The order to move out should be coming soon. I can see some of the soldiers up at the front (back? Are we going backwards? No, I'm just going to call it the front) mount up horses and prepare to move ahead as scouts.

Any minute now. I scan the direction I came from, naively hoping to spot the main group of Shepherds, but of course they're indistinguishable among the sea of men and horses.

Now isn't the time to get distracted. Focus.

I nervously finger my elthunder under my coat, eyes flicking between the different wagons that I know contain mage corpses. We've got our own mages there to be able to take the hits and some archers to knock down the Risen if the mages can't, but it's only so reassuring. One stray spell can cause a lot of damage with so many people packed so tightly, and I have no idea if we'll be able to spot the Risen being created so I have to be ready for a spell to suddenly burst out of one of the wagons at any moment.

Eventually the front lines start to march, and slowly more and more men get underway until my legion is on the move as well. I feel awkward on the back of a horse, but it's necessary for being able to see everything.

I'll spare you the hour of agonizing waiting and get to the part with the zombies, because they do show up, and when they do it's…

...really underwhelming, actually.

You can see when the spellcast happens. Black tendrils float through the air from all directions and burrow into our corpse wagons. Our mages and archers and armor knights form up, and when the Risen shamble out they're cut down with quick efficiency.

And… that's really it. A few of the Risen manage to get spells off, but with our own mages and priests there to intercept it's basically a non-issue. Everything is cleaned up within maybe five minutes.

Days of pouring over maps and arguing for something that turned out to be less impactful than a bar brawl. That doesn't feel incredibly frustrating, no, not at all! I should be happy no one was really hurt, and I am, but at the same time it's annoying to feel like the thing we were planning against was barely important.

I suppose that means a job well done, but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. It feels more like I wasted a whole lot of time and energy. Still, I know better than to let my irritation show. I don't need anyone else to think something is wrong because there technically isn't.

Me and the commander make a round to check each corpse wagon, taking note of injuries and damage as we do. There's not a lot, which is good I guess.

I half expect more Risen to stumble out of each wagon as we pass. This can't be it, can it? Me and Dad didn't spend days pouring over a map for less than one minute of minor combat, did we?

We totally did. That was literally the goal: to make this as much a non-issue as possible. It shouldn't feel this disappointing. I shouldn't feel like strangling someone.

I sit around monitoring things for another hour after sending a report off to Father before I get a runner telling me to meet at the Shepherds' location. I hand off my horse and trudge back, still stewing in annoyance.

When I get back, I can see that apparently all the important people have gathered here. Father, Virion, Say'ri, generals I don't care about, and me, obviously.

(I can see Nathan off to the side, talking to Noire. Hi Nathan! Good to see you're safe!)

I slide in next to Father. He nods and pats me on the shoulder, murmuring "It seems like everything went well" before returning his attention to the discussion Say'ri and Virion are having.

"-can't be this simple, can it?" Virion is asking, apparently agreeing with my feelings on the matter. "Did we fret for days over nothing? We must be missing something."

"It was only nothing because of our fretting and preparation." Say'ri argues back. "We are missing nothing, we simply did a good job."

"I'll admit, it is unnerving for the Risen to be so… easily managed." Lucina murmurs. She's quiet enough not to interrupt the conversation, but she's close enough to me that I can still hear her. "It is most unusual."

"Sometimes a good thing is simply a good thing dear." Maribelle murmurs back.

Lucina purses her lips. "If you say so, Mother."

Good to know I'm not the only person who thinks this isn't right.

The conversation really doesn't go anywhere, and in the end no one's mind is changed. Virion still thinks this was too easy, Say'ri still insists he's overthinking it, but one way or another we've gotten past the hard part of leaving the Mila Tree.

I'm not satisfied. Father is, Say'ri is, and I later learn Nathan is too, but I'm not, and Lucina isn't, and Virion isn't.

It can't be this easy.

Can it? Who knows.