Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.

Something something Morgan. This is the last timeskip chapter.

The Shepherds apparently consider the other future kids arriving a big deal, because they have a whole feast organized the day of their arrival.

You can tell a bunch of the Shepherds are nervous, even though they try to hide it. Some of them are about to find out that they're parents. Can you blame them for being on edge?

My main concern is Inigo. He hasn't been informed of our whole "stick to one parent" thing, so he might let the cat out of the bag that Mother and Father are… well… Mother and Father.

Don't get me wrong, I want Mother and Father together, but I'm worried Inigo might throw a wrench in that plan unintentionally by making them aware of them being married in the future too soon. That's the whole reason we're sticking to one parent in the first place.

I'm also keeping in mind that multiple people have said I'd probably get along with Owain and maybe Cynthia, so I'm eager to see if that's true. I haven't been able to do a proper bit with someone for a while now.

Today is probably going to be fun times for me, and less so for other people.

I can instantly tell which kid is which when they walk through the door. Their appearances are so distinctive that even just using the physical descriptions from Nathan I can tell who's who.

For about a minute, no one moves. The four new kids stare at the entirety of the Shepherds, and the Shepherds stare back. Seeing as I'm supposed to be the confident one (according to Nathan at least), I take it upon myself to break the weird staring contest going on between everyone.

"Hey Inigo!" I call, startling several people. "Do you know who I am?"

Hilariously, Brady, Cynthia, and Owain's immediate response is to turn and glare at Inigo. That's what you get for being a womanizer I suppose. Inigo, now with all eyes on him, takes a tentative step forward, which turns into a confident step as he visibly brushes aside any nervousness to put on a strong facade.. "I'm afraid I don't quite remember. Perhaps the lovely lady could jog my memory?"

Severa pipes up to do what she does best: complain. "Hitting on your own sister Inigo? That's low even for you."

"My own…?" Inigo blinks. "Morgan?"

"Hi!"

"You're- wow." Inigo coughs. "That's… you survived?"

"Can't speak for your world, I'm probably from a different place." I say.

"Ah, right." Inigo says. "The Morgan I knew disappeared when she was five."

Oh. Well that explains why none of the other future kids recognized my name or knew who I was. If I vanished when I was five, Inigo was probably only seven or eight. That's at least ten years from his current age, probably more, and "my sister vanished and is probably dead" isn't exactly something a seven year old is going to want to talk about with his friends.

"Well hi! I'm Morgan! I'm objectively the best person ever!" I say cheerfully. I then turn to Father, who is watching this exchange in mute shock. "So, by the way, you have a Son."

Father buries his face in his hands and groans, and Inigo smiles sheepishly. "Hi Father." Then, before I think to stop him, he turns towards Olivia and inclines his head. "Mother."

"Inigo!" Severa groans. "We're supposed to only tell one parent!"

"You could have mentioned that beforehand!"

"We thought Virion would mention it!"

"He did!" Inigo says, then pauses as everyone glares at him again. "I forgot, okay?"

"Well that simplifies things for me!" I chirp, and spin to look at Mother. "Hi Mom!"

"Oh, um, hello?" She responds with a wild blush and obvious nervousness. "Oh dear…"

"You also have a wife in the future Father!" I say to Father.

Father groans again.

"Friend Inigo! That is most unfair! Only you are to be allowed to spend time with both your parents? Unfair! Scandal!" Owain cries. "Thine selfishness is obvious, and your crime most heinous!"

"It was a mistake!" Inigo protests.

"I think not! T'was a calculated move to 'accidentally' talk to both of your parents!" Owain accuses. "All the other heroes must silently endure the trial of only being able to speak to one parent, but you took the villainous route and revealed both! Selfish scoundrel!"

"Yeah!" Cynthia agrees. "That wasn't very heroic of you Inigo!"

My brother throws his hands up in the air in wordless frustration.

"I don't know what y'all are talking about. I can talk to ma and pa jus' fine." Brady says.

"Your parents are already married Brady!" Cynthia huffs.

"Don't talk about your sister!" I quickly add. "Special circumstance."

"Yeah yeah, I know her plan." Brady grumbles. "I won't talk."

As expected, Owain and Cynthia choose to reveal their mothers rather than fathers. From what Nathan told me, the mothers determine who the kid is, and so naturally the kid tends to have a defined dynamic with the mother more than the father. The only exceptions are me and Lucina.

With me and Inigo being siblings and our parentage fully revealed, Olivia and Robin of course feel obliged to sit together to talk with Inigo, but the awkwardness is palpable. They spend as much time awkwardly side-eyeing each other as they do actually paying attention to Inigo.

So, naturally, I make it my job to be a good sister and give Inigo a hard time so he doesn't feel left out. "So, Inigo, how many girls did you land a date with in Chon'sin? Did you get any?"

"That's the first question you're going to ask me?" Inigo sighs. "Of course that's what the others would tell you about me… and only one, by the way. The language barrier was a bit problematic, or else I might have gotten more."

"I'm sure that's the reason." I say. My grin could politely be described as "shit-eating", and I know that full well. "Not that most people see a relationship as something important rather than something frivolous."

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Inigo starts, then suddenly realizes the implications of what he said and backpedals. "I mean, of course, that I'm intensely interested in each and every woman I pursue! I don't toy with hearts!"

"You're just open-minded, are you?" I ask in amusement.

"Exactly."

"Mmm, sure." I say. "I'll bet you're "intensely interested" like a hummingbird is to a flower. It lasts all of a minute before you've had your fill and move on to the next one, never quite full."

"Why must you speak poetically just to mock me?" Inigo grumbles. "You didn't have this much attitude when you were younger."

"I was seven. I wasn't even a teenager. We all know attitude is a phenomenon that manifests spontaneously when you hit puberty." I say cheerfully. "Too bad for you I've had time to sharpen that attitude into a slim, well-kept dagger."

"What ever happened to my sweet, fun-loving younger sister?" Inigo sighs dramatically, and puts an arm around my shoulder. "The world has corrupted you!"

"I mean, it's only had a year and a bit to do so. I don't have a memory beyond that."

Inigo pauses. "Pardon?"

"I'm an amnesiac like Father." I say. "A year ago I woke up in a forest with no memory, and spent half a year wandering around Ferox with Nathan and Noire, and Kjelle, and eventually Nah once we hit northern Ylisse."

"I-I see, but you remember me…?" Inigo asks hopefully.

"No." I admit regretfully. "I remember a little bit about Father. The rest of my family I learned about through others."

"Ah." Inigo deflates. "I suppose it was too much to hope for. I'm just happy you- some version of you- is still alive."

"Me too. Being alive is great." I quip. More seriously, I add, "It's nice to be able to see my family all together, even if I don't have memories of half of you."

"Incidentally… who's Nathan? Is he from a different future?"

"Nope. Outworlder." I say. "He's fun. You'll meet him in half a year or so."

Best to keep the details on Nathan brief for now, or else I'd go on and on.

"Half a year?"

"He's having his body rebuilt."

Inigo blinks rapidly. "What?"

"I'll explain some other time."

Inigo is immensely confused, but doesn't question further.

Olivia finally musters up the courage to speak. When she says Inigo's name, it looks like she's testing how it sounds coming out of her mouth. "I-Inigo, I'm so glad see you! I wasn't sure if I was going to be a mother at all! I-I mean I hoped but I wasn't sure and… was I a good mother?"

"I think so, but I was only just starting to become a person when you left." Inigo admits. "Father went missing in action early into Grima's rise, Morgan vanished from her room only a few weeks later, and a few months beyond that you were killed. You were all gone by the time I turned eight. From what I remember you were great though."

That's obviously not what Mother was hoping to hear, nor Father for that matter. It's interesting to me though. What Inigo said is different from my own memory. When I remember Father showing me his collection of miniatures I was certainly older than five, and there was one time he took me to a theater I think I was around twelve or so.

You know, it's just occurring to me now that maybe the reason I remember being taken to a theater was because Mother was performing. That would make sense. It's not like Father or I have a particular love of theater otherwise… unless he's hiding a secret obsession with plays that I don't know about.

"How long have you been here? In our world I mean." Father asks.

"Only half a year." Inigo says. "The others were here much longer from I heard. Alas, I've had much less time to enjoy the wonderful sights of this beautiful world."

"And by "wonderful sights", you mean hot women, right?" I tease.

"Of course… not."

"Real convincing there bro. Totally convincing me that you haven't been looking at butts this whole time."

"I think I liked you better when you didn't talk." Inigo grumbles.

I raise an eyebrow. "You mean when I was five? I see, you like women in their place, not to mention dumb and quiet."

Inigo flushes. "That's not what I meant."

"I dunno~" I say, and grin in his face. "Sounds like it to me."

"You're terrible."

"So I've been told multiple times." I say. "You know, for someone who's supposedly a womanizer, you're very easy to fluster."

"That proves I'm not a womanizer then!"

"No, it just means you suck at it."

"D-Do you dance?" Mother cuts in, perhaps realizing I'm not about to stop teasing Inigo anytime soon.

"I- well- I try." Inigo says bashfully. "Not many people appreciate male dancers though."

"C-Could I see!?"

"I couldn't possibly!" Inigo protests desperately. "I'd rather see you dance!"

"M-Me?! Oh, that would be so embarrassing… I really should just watch you!"

"B-But that's equally embarrassing!"

"Fine, both of you dance at the same time, and me and Father will watch." I say.

"That's even worse!" They both shout at the same time.

Why is everyone I am/will be close to really shy? Is that just how my life is going to end up? Mother is shy unless she's on the battlefield, Inigo is shy about his dancing, Nathan is painfully shy in general, and Father… well Father is normal from what I'm aware. "I guess none of us will ever see either of you dance then."

Both Inigo and Mother glance at each other hesitantly. They both desperately and obviously want to see each other dance, but don't want to be made a fool of themself.

"I'll show if you show first." Inigo blurts out.

"Wh-What? Why me first!?"

"You're my mother. Surely you should show me how it's done first."

"O-Or maybe you should be nice to your poor mother and indulge her before asking her to dance!" Mother counters.

"Or you could both dance because neither of you are going to mock the other!" I say. "This is not a difficult concept you two!"

The two of them glance away, blushing, and Father puts a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe give your mother and brother a break. Not all of us have your confidence Morgan."

Inigo and Mother continue to argue the question of who should dance first for the entire rest of the feast. Apparently confidence is a trait unique to me.

###

So, as much fun as it's been messing around with people at court, I do actually fulfil my part of the deal with Crius. I've been going over all the fun moments in extensive detail, but a lot of my time is dedicated to the more boring stuff. Smiling, complementing, using logic to argue whatever agenda Crius is trying to push. You know, the dull stuff. As much as Crius might be exasperated with me sometimes, I am doing my job, and that's why he continues to teach me.

A lot of his teachings are not what I expected. I thought there'd be a lot of "make sure not to look them directly in the eye when saying X", or "be sure to hold yourself this certain way when entering a room", but there's very little of that. Most of what Crius' teachings are just providing me with information that would be hard to get otherwise.

I'm talking about rumors of Duke Lapetus secretly being involved in the Plegian trade, Sir Johnathan's conspicuously spotless battle record (he's a knight commander in the Ylissian Army), or how Lady Belladonna has supposedly been seen watching wrestling competitions held in the surrounding villages of her home.

I guess you could say he doesn't teach in the sense of giving lectures. Mostly he provides me with information to make use of, because by his own admittance I seem to do fine when I try to argue points, so he doesn't waste time trying to fix something I can already do.

What I'm trying to say is: the most vital thing Crius is teaching me is not that I need to hold myself a certain way or even that I need to be overly flattering. What he's taught me is that information is king, and his greatest contribution to my court life is essentially letting me have access (filtered through him) to his information network.

"Don't try to convince to Lapetus to support a social welfare policy when the absence of such things helps his slave trade", "Sir Johnathan will want to seem to be tactical genius to maintain his faultless image. As you are an actually skilled tactician, it should be simple for you to back him into a corner when discussing tactics, then give him an easy out that just so happens to involve him agreeing that axes are extremely valuable to an army.", and "Lady Belladonna might be conducive to the idea of mandatory funding to rural sports organizations due to her clear fascination with wrestling, which is in turn useful for us as it encourages and legitimizes such activity in the eyes of the public at large" are all things that Crius has whispered to me at some point or another.

Incidentally, that last one with Lady Belladonna was part of an attempt by Crius to have the people he rules over be seen as less barbaric by Ylisse at large. Feroxi are notorious for hardcore sports. When they play, they're all-in and they take it dead seriously. Ylisse, not so much, and they see this sort of hardcore sports attitude as barbaric. So, because most of the people in Crius' territory are basically Feroxi, it's in his interest to legitimize sports in the public eye so that his people aren't, and by extension he isn't, looked down upon.

Granted, that plan didn't work so well. The verdict was that he was fine to implement the idea in his own dukedom, but it was rather pointless to try and get everyone to implement support for sports rather than something more valuable. Even Crius admitted that in hindsight, it was a bit of a ridiculous plan.

Today is a bit different though. Crius has something else to share aside from information.

"It's probably about time I made this more clear. I assumed it was simply a matter of experience for yourself, but perhaps I may have been wrong."

Uh oh. Did I mess up? I don't remember messing up. I talked to everyone I needed to, managed to convince a reasonable amount of people of whatever he needed me to… maybe I was supposed to hold myself a certain way? "Did I forget an order?"

"No." He shakes his head. "You've completed every job to an above average standard."

Okay, so I didn't fuck up. "What is it then?"

"Strategy."

I tilt my head in confusion. "What? But that's been going well too. We've been pushing your agenda and-"

He holds up a hand. "Not that. I mean the strategy for your image, so to speak. You're inconsistent."

"I don't follow…"

"Let me put it this way: When talking to someone for a job I've given you, how do you go about it? Very generally, how do you interact with the target?"

"Well I say hi, I smile a lot, maybe find something to compliment, then dive into business." I say. I feel like that's not enough, but that's really about it. "I act nice, sometimes genuinely, more often than not a facade."

"Would you say you speak logically?"

"Yeah, once the pleasantries are out of the way."

"And how about when dealing with people for your own sake?"

That's a wide spectrum. What's he getting at? "I smile and whatnot until I figure what they're about, I get as much information out of them as I can. Then, if they're a bad person, I tear them down as best I can, and if not, I chat."

"And therein lies the inconsistency."

"What?" I frown. "Me being nice to nice people and rude to bad people?"

"No." Crius says with a shake of his head. "The difference between when you're "on the job" and not."

"You mean that I'm sometimes nice to bad people?"

"In a way." Crius says. "You hear that distinction, correct? The difference between being on the job and not?"

"Well yeah, duh."

"Other people don't see that, and if they did, they'd take it into account."

I'm still lost. "So I should lead with that info…?"

"No, you shouldn't. It would undermine your job to tell people it's a job." Crius sighs. "Morgan… I'm saying that your two modes are working against each other. Your personal mode, when you tear down those you don't like, usually isn't helpful."

What? "You'd rather I people get away with-"

Again, he holds up a hand. "Not always, but sometimes… yes. If someone can be bent to your cause, yes, you let them get away with whatever they're doing. After all, your main goal, whatever it is, is your main goal for a reason. Unless your main goal is to tear down people you don't like, then doing so indiscriminately only undermines your goal, especially since you are not truly taking these people out of action or ruining their reputation. You are simply crafting highly-personalized insults and humiliating people without dealing any lasting damage."

My first thought is one of indignation, but I hold it back to take a look at Crius' words. He's saying some of my tactics are undermining my strategy.

"So, in this case, my strategy is your strategy, right?" I ask.

"Not necessarily."

"But for the sake of understanding the problem, let's say it is."

"Alright." Crius nods. He seems to approve of this, of me trying to work through it.

"So my main goal is to increase your dukedom's prestige, and your own, of course."

"That's the simplified version, but yes."

"And our strategy is to play nice, make friends, and spend our energy wisely. Don't bother convincing people who we know won't listen, make special effort for people we think are susceptible."

"And more importantly." Crius adds. "We don't want to risk enemies. We are not in a position of enough power that we can afford them."

"Right." I say. So far, nothing wrong. "And I'm undermining this, you say, by humiliating people I don't like."

"Yes."

"But that's… I'm doing that off the job."

"Again, that's the problem." Crius says. "On the job, off the job; other people don't see that, and even if they did they wouldn't care. This is not a job at the library, where you stop being a librarian once your shift is over. Court is all-encompassing. There is no distinction between personal and professional."

"But then when can I make time for taking down terrible people?"

"You do so very carefully, and with absolute certainty it won't come back to bite you." Crius says. He softly puts a hand on my shoulder, and kneels down so we're eye level. "Do you understand Morgan? At court you are not a person, you are a persona, and everything you do has to take into consideration your goals. All of your goals, and all at the same time. I mean that furthering one goal should not come at the price of a more important one."

I take this all in with a frown. Not a frown of anger, but of careful thought. I had been treating Crius' jobs like… well… jobs. When I wasn't doing those jobs I did whatever I wanted. When looking at the bigger picture from an outside perspective… "I look inconsistent, don't I?"

"Very."

"Sometimes I smile and simper, sometimes I ruthlessly tear apart someone's arguments or character just for kicks."

"Yes."

"And other people aren't going to care that I'm doing something for fun or a job, in fact, they'd take advantage of it."

"Exactly."

"Right." I take a deep breath and exhale. In hindsight this seems so obvious, but it's not something I'd considered. I'm used to operating in two modes: tactician and personal, and I was applying that here… but I can't do that. Court is a job and I didn't recognize that. I saw parties and drinking and assumed that I could fuck around and have fun without consequence while only getting serious when I needed to. "So no tearing people apart."

"If you can find a way to do so without potential consequences… then please tell me, because I'd love to apply it." Crius says with a wry smile. "So you understand?"

"Yes." I nod. "Smile and play nice no matter what."

"More like you shouldn't antagonize people for the fun of it, even if they deserve it." Crius chuckles. "If you want to "tear someone apart" you need a purpose. If you can use that intelligence and logical mind of yours to get proof of some of the underhanded dealings that go on in these people's lives, that's prime blackmail material, or potentially something that could get them in trouble with the crown. Yes, a public humiliation is satisfying, but it doesn't really change anything now does it? It just gets you an enemy. If you really don't like some of these people then hold in your impulsive wit, put on your smiling face, pay careful attention, collect information, talk to their servants and friends and look into their business. Get proof, or at least enough evidence to make a convincing argument that they've done something wrong, and then exploit it. That can be blackmail, or just giving it to your father, the prince, the Exalt, someone who can make sure that your target is punished. That is how you antagonize with purpose."

I like that line. Antagonize with purpose! "I get it."

"I know you do, and if there's anyone who can ruin someone's life it's probably you. Naga knows you have the intelligence for it." Crius says, and pats me on the back.

"But I probably shouldn't try and destroy someone at the moment."

"Indeed. Perhaps let's focus on building a consistent persona at the moment, yes?"

###

"You're joking." Inigo says.

"Nope."

"That's unfair…"

"Aww, poor Inigo." I smile savagely. "Your amnesiac younger sister got a boyfriend in a few months whereas you've been trying for years just to get someone to go on more than one date with you."

"You're a girl, it's easier for you." Inigo grumbles. "Men actually have to try to get dates. You just have to smile and wait for someone to approach you."

"I'll have you know I'm the one that asked him out, not the other way around, thank you very much." I say. "I did not just wait and smile!" Mostly because I recognized very quickly that there was no way smiling and waiting would have worked with Nathan. Confident he is not.

"Lucky bastard." Inigo says. "I wish women would throw themselves at me…"

"I did not throw myself at him." If I remember correctly, sat in his lap. "If you didn't incessantly hit on everyone you came across, maybe they would throw themselves at you."

Inigo rolls his eyes. "Oh please…"

"What? You're cute enough. Just be a nice guy, and you're sure to get someone at some point."

"It only takes being a nice guy?" Inigo scoffs.

"Kinda." I shrug. "I mean, for the initial attraction phase that works. If you want an actual relationship you need chemistry of some sort, and pure good looks and the ability to be polite isn't enough there. I haven't stayed with Nathan just because he's cute and sort of polite.

"When did you become a love guru?"

I shrug. "I didn't. I'm taking a guess."

Inigo shakes his head. "Speaking of Nathan… who is he? You mentioned before he was an outworlder, right?"

"Yeah. Different dimensions entirely rather than a parallel timeline. Where he comes from we're characters in a game, and magic doesn't exist. Also the technology is way more advanced."

"Magic doesn't exist? How did he end up here?"

"Naga."

Inigo blinks. "Naga?"

"Yep."

Inigo stares at me, then takes and releases a deep breath. "Okay, maybe start from the beginning."

Gladly. I'm not going to miss a chance to talk about Nathan!

I recount as much as I can about Nathan. His world and what it was like, how he got here and why he can't go back, what he's good at and learning, and, of course, how he encourages all my bad behaviour. I decidedly focus on the positive aspects, and only mention off-hand the negatives.

I'm sure Nathan will make Inigo aware of his negatives extensively when they meet anyhow. Nathan is, unfortunately, very good at highlighting his own flaws.

"That's quite the story." Inigo muses when I finish. "A genius from another world…"

"A fairly average person from another world." I correct. "Who just so happens to know a little about a lot of things."

"Ringing endorsement from the girlfriend." Inigo says sarcastically.

"I'm describing him how he would describe himself on a good day." I say. "I mean, I'd say he's extremely indulgent and patient, has decent logical skills and enough knowledge of psychology and basic science facts to offer a tentative explanation of many different things including psychological quirks and basics, as well as logical fallacies people tend to fall into… do I need to go on?"

"No, I get it." Inigo says, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll take your word for it."

"Or you could just wait to meet him rather than making a judgment now."

"Or that." He agrees.

###

Now that I'm not happily antagonizing anyone who mildly annoys me, I've started to see certain depths to people I talk to with the mindset that everyone is putting on a persona. Or, I guess I should say I've started to develop instinctive suspicion, because here's the thing: you usually can't tell if someone is putting on a front or not. Now, objectively this suspicion is useful. It puts me in the right mindset, where I analyze every action from the other person, looking for hidden meanings and trying to gauge how genuine people are being. It's exhausting. It's exhilarating too, trying to pick people apart from just their words and body language, but it's mentally taxing in a way I didn't expect.

In addition, I can't tell you how frustrating it is to not be able to tear into someone if I want to. Because, wouldn't you know it, Crius was right and it just makes enemies, and I'm still trying to figure out the detective work to actually get the information I need if I want to seriously get someone in trouble. I get some serious work developing a smiling mask even as I internally fantasize about breakinging someone's nose.

Not that I don't. Some people are just creeps, because even though I'm not antagonizing people anymore some people like to corner me or make advances and… well, I'm an incredibly attractive, young, unmarried girl in a place mostly filled with powerful men of all ages. Use your imagination. I do still break some noses and dislocate limbs on occasion, but at least I can say I didn't make a mockery of the perpetrator beforehand.

(It's very cathartic to punch someone in the face after having so many tempting targets but not being able to take a swing)

Also, Father pops in to an event unannounced, and it's great.

So there I was, being my amazing self: promoting Crius' ideas, getting information on nasty people to try and follow up on later, and trying to rebuff this eager but irritating young merchant who seemed to think that talking about increasingly exotic types of furniture is going to make me interested in him. Really living my best life!

The event is actually the afterparty of a particularly highly-anticipated play among upper crust society. Even things like these are the breeding grounds of court intrigue apparently. Go figure. I don't know if Father actually saw the play or not, because this afterparty isn't exactly being held at the theater, but when he walks through the door you can see everyone's eyes turn to him. It happens like a wave. First the people at the entrance turn to look, then the people next to them notice and look, and it ripples through the rest of the room until most people are looking at Father.

I made a bit of a splash on my first introduction at the hands of Crius, but it's clear just by everyone's reactions that Father is thought to be important. Chrom's right hand man, a high-ranking general, and responsible for taking down Gangrel! The great Robin… uh…

What's our last name? I can't believe I never thought about that. Do we not have a last name?

Anyhow. There are a lot of people looking at Father. He's wearing his tactician's coat rather than any sort of formal or party attire, so that only makes him stand out more.

Now, the big question. To keep character, or not to keep character? Do I look at this pragmatically, seeing how I can abuse Father's appearance here… or break character and just go "Yay! Dad's here!"?

I go with the latter. I think it's fairly obvious there isn't going to be some huge drawback.

Gratefully taking the excuse to get away from the overly friendly merchant, I deftly weave and push through the people around me and make a small sprint to get to Father before some of the other people who've finally decided to approach. "Father!"

"Morgan." Father says, dropping his carefully neutral face to smile and hug me. "How was the play?"

"It was fine." I chirp. In a lower voice, I add, "Honestly? Nothing special. I don't understand the excitement for it, but everyone here thinks it's the best thing since pegasi."

He nods and smiles briefly, then turns to deal with the small group of people that have gathered to talk to him.

Despite having no experience in this sort of stuff, Father handles the attention rather well. He does that by being polite, saying little, and excusing himself from any conversation where it's clear that the other party doesn't actually have much of relevance to say.

That's most people, in case you couldn't figure that out on your own. This is the first time most of these people have seen Father, much less spoken to him, and unfortunately for them Father doesn't seem to be here for small talk.

Why is he here then? Is it to see me work? I think him being here is going to be detrimental to me actually being able to work if I'm honest. He'll have a lot of attention whether he intends it or not.

His goal is made clear a few minutes later after he fends off everyone around him. He then locates Crius, and makes a beeline for him.

In hindsight, yeah, of course that's why he would be here. I'm surprised Father didn't talk to Crius before behind my back if I'm being honest.

I follow along as Father makes his way over. I won't intrude if he doesn't want me to, but I'm curious as to what exactly he's going to say.

"Duke Crius." Father greets, extending a hand for a shake.

"High Deliverer." Crius says, and accepts the handshake. "It's a rare treat to see you."

"I'm sure." Father says.

"Business or pleasure?" Crius asks directly. If there's one thing I like about Crius, it's how direct he's willing to be.

"Both." Father says. "Business first."

"Of course. What is it you need, Deliverer?"

"I understand that the majority of your people are essentially Feroxi, yes?"

"They have heavy Feroxi heritage, yes."

"Are you privy to their weaponry?"

Crius raises an eyebrow. "Are you referring to axes and bows?"

"No, I mean specialized weapons." Father says. "Feroxi armorslayers, battle hammers, that sort of thing."

Crius straightens his back, intensely interested. "Indeed I am, though… perhaps this conversation should be taken away from curious ears, yes? I presume this is a somewhat sensitive topic?"

Father blinks, glances at all the people still watching him, then nods. "Uh, yes. Let's do that."

Crius leaves for a moment to have a quiet talk with the owner of the building, then leads us off to a small room that seems to be a private lounge with a few nice chairs and couches and a few full bookcases. He carefully closes the door behind him, and then takes a seat on one of the chairs while me and Father sit on the couch.

I probably don't need to be here, but neither of them have kicked me out so you better bet I'm going to tag along.

"So." Crius says. "Armorslayers, battle hammers, and I presume horseslayers are of interest to you as well?"

"Indeed." Father nods.

"Well, as I said, I am indeed knowledgeable in those such things." Crius says. "I am even capable of producing such things, albeit in small numbers. Are you interested in making an order?"

"Yes." Father says. "Though if you can only produce in small numbers, we may have an issue."

"Is it urgent?" Crius questions. His face neutral, giving no information of his reaction or intent. "If there is some immediate need, I do have some of the weapons held in reserve for wartime that I could loan."

"That would be useful, yes. Still, I have need of at least a few hundred of each."

"Is there some reason that you came to me, rather than our Feroxi allies?" Crius prods. "You are on good terms with them, yes?"

"Ylisse is officially demobilized, and the crown wishes for Ylisse to recover its reputation as a peaceful nation." Father says firmly. "Such a blatantly militarily-interested deal with another country, even on a minor scale, is against that desired image. As such I must look within the country for my needs."

"I see." Crius says. "Well, as of currently I can provide perhaps fifty of each weapon type, and with some dedicated production time I can have fifty more made in a few months.

"That will have to do." Father nods. "I'll take as much as you can make in half a year."

Crius raises an eyebrow. "That's not exactly cheap. Do you have a way to pay? Is the crown funding this? In addition, those weapons are rather unwieldy even for experienced fighters. There is special training needed to use them properly."

Father purses his lips. "And I presume such training can only be gotten from your people."

"By all means, if you can find someone else for training, go ahead, but my people are certainly the easiest way to obtain such training." Crius says. "Especially if you need to train more than one person at a time."

I think Crius has sussed out that this has something to do with the Shepherds, even though the Shepherds certainly don't have hundreds of people that would warrant so much specialized weaponry.

Actually, Father is being extremely unsubtle in his intent, though I'm not sure how subtle he could be about getting this sort of weaponry. Think about it. What reason would the Shepherds, or Ylisse in general, have for getting a bunch of dedicated anti-armor and anti-cavalry weapons? Maybe if they're planning on going up against a country known for its paladins, great knights, and generals.

Valm. I'm talking about Valm. And if I can figure this out, you can bet an actual politician like Crius knows exactly what's going on.

"You do realize that this is not much less an obvious military-minded move than simply buying the weapons from Ferox, correct?" Crius asks bluntly. "It is not exactly difficult to notice when dozens of expert blacksmiths spend months dedicated to creating specialized weapons in one dukedom of a supposedly demobilized country."

"I know." Father grimaces. "But it is the best I can do. At least this does not involve making a deal with another country."

"I presume I will be given temporary exemption to the crown's armament restrictions?" Crius asks. "As of currently, there are restrictions on how much weaponry I am allowed to have available to my forces, and there are additional restrictions on how much I can sell to government forces of any country."

"It's a good thing you aren't selling to another government force, technically." Father says with a smile. "You'll be selling these weapons and training to the Bluescale Mercenary Company, which is officially operating out of Ferox, but has interest in the Ylissian engineering of these specialized Feroxi weapons."

"Ahh." Crius smiles in return. "And I suppose this company just so happens to have a few manaketes and a plegian tactician, and a man with a sword that looks suspiciously like Falchion?"

"Perhaps."

"And it just so happens that they are negotiating a contract with Rosanne to fight against Valm?"

"Maybe."

Crius shakes his head and laughs. "I can't say I'm surprised. If anything, it's a shock the prince had enough restraint to wait this long before finding a way to get Rosanne the help of the Shepherds. I think everyone was expecting him to charge to their aid as soon as news of the war reached Ylisse."

"I can't really say anymore." Father says. "I've probably told you too much already, but… I'm placing a certain amount of trust in you, Crius. Morgan speaks well of you, and from my own investigations you seem a trustworthy individual. Keep this quiet, don't mention the Shepherds' involvement, and we'll be grateful."

"As if I'd spoil such a golden opportunity." Crius reassures. "You have my secrecy, Deliverer."

This is exactly what Crius was hoping for when he agreed to help me, I realize belatedly. He got influence with my Father simply by virtue of taking good care of me, and through what I've mentioned off-hand to Father. Now he gets this unique opportunity where the Shepherds come to him for help, even though realistically going to Ferox for these weapons isn't much more of an issue. Crius might not be able to brag out loud about helping us because this is supposed to be hush-hush, but Father and Chrom certainly won't forget this help.

I do have to wonder if Father would have considered Crius at all if I wasn't working with him.

There's a brief discussion of how payment will work that I don't pay too much attention to, and the discussion changes to the other reason Father came here. He's here for work and for pleasure after all. The reason for this is simple…

"I wanted to see Morgan at work." Father admits. "It's one thing to simply hear about what she does, and another to see it happen."

Crius smiles again. "I'm afraid watching her talk to people isn't anything special. As interesting an activity as debate and argumentation is, such a thing doesn't lend itself well to being watched in such an unstructured event such as this, and quite frankly I doubt you could observe her working without being pestered by others for even small amounts of time."

Father's shoulders sag slightly. "I was worried about that."

"Sorry Father, you're more interesting than me to the average court-goer." I tease. "You already missed all the fun stuff anyways! You should have seen me dealing with Dracovine. It was so fun…"

"That was a terrible and pointless move." Crius reminds me. Not to mention it was before I realized I was being an idiot.

"Oh definitely, but it was satisfying." I say with a grin.

I think I remember Nathan mentioning something about me being a sadist in the game. Perhaps there's a bit more weight to that then I expected. I do take undue pleasure in messing with people sometimes.

"But you're not missing out on much Father. I just put on a smiling face and talk circles around people. Easy stuff."

"You sound like corrupt nobility already." Father notes.

Huh, I guess I do. I'm literally bragging about how easy it is to manipulate people. I'm not saying that I have good ideas or even that people like my ideas, I'm basically just saying people are stupid and I can make them believe what I want them to believe. "Alas, I have been corrupted already! At least I have my looks."

Father rolls his eyes and Crius raises an eyebrow. Come on… Nathan would have rolled with that, or smiled. Heck, Kjelle would have at least scoffed. I can take anything but indifference!

The rest of the event is fun, though mostly because I can watch everyone's obvious frustration that Father won't give them anything to work with and is incredibly tight-lipped. Apparently he has seen the play this is an afterparty for, because it's one of the few things he'll actually talk about.

Don't get me wrong, Father doesn't look like he wants to deal with these people at all. I'm taking enjoyment from everyone else obviously trying to get in his good graces and failing miserably, not Father's own discomfort.

It is funny to see people try and flirt with him though. Father isn't married, so some people are trying to test the waters with him. That puts a smile on my face. Father is delightfully awkward, and I get malicious joy out of knowing the poor women stand zero chance.

I'm probably a terrible person for enjoying all that, but I can't bring myself to care.

###

So, have you ever seen two people dancing around a very obvious issue when that very issue is the reason why they're interacting at all, and yet they refuse to talk about it outright? I have. Mother and Father do it whenever Mother is in Ylisstol between missions, and I don't know what to make of it.

Part of me wants to find it funny. I can see similarities with the time I poked at Nah and Laurent. Both Mother and Father flip-flop between the two rolls of sensing something might be off and trying to be helpful, and being too nervous to actually talk through what's causing the awkwardness in the first place.

It's obvious with Mother. She wears her heart on her sleeve. When she's nervous she hides her face and blushes like a tomato. Father is more subtle. He tries to look calm, composed, unbothered, and also open and friendly. Yet, when I watch closely, I can see his eyes darting back and forth, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and one of his hands tightly gripping the other hand's wrist beneath his coat. Father just doesn't hold himself the way he usually would when talking with Mother.

Like I said, some part of me wants to find it funny. Some part of me does find it funny. It's like watching a bad romance book play out in front of me. I'm amused, fascinated, and yet… these are my parents, and I know full well this isn't how this would have played out, how this should have played out. I know that if Inigo hadn't let it slip that this relationship was supposed to happen I wouldn't be watching these two dance around each other and I wouldn't have this nagging feeling that something could go wrong.

Because that's just it: I don't see something wrong. Not really. Yes, they're awkwardly bumbling around each other, but neither of them seem repulsed. Neither of them have rejected this future outright. I don't know if I'm reassured by this or not. I'm happy that they are trying to get to know each other, I'm happy that they're making an attempt to be parents to me and Inigo, I'm happy that they're trying to see if a relationship between them can work (if extremely awkwardly), but is that a good thing? Is that going to work? Can romance work that way? I can imagine another world where Father and Mother bonded over fighting in the Valmese war, or through Father helping Mother realize her dream of opening a theater like in their support conversations, or something more standard… but does this situation work? This one, right here, where I can see what could either be interpreted as something wonderful like being introduced to a soulmate, or horrible like a cosmically ordained arranged marriage.

I don't mention this to Father or Mother of course. They need to do what's best for them, and that means not taking me or Inigo into account even if that means the two of them not being together in the end. I don't like the possibility that Inigo's unintentional interference might have caused a ripple effect that could actually cause our parents not to get together, but it's very real, and it's why I'm not reassured. The fact that this bumbling is happening at all worries me, because it's a stark reminder that something went wrong.

I can see why Nathan only wanted one parent to know who the kid was, or maybe I'm just adopting his paranoia. Now that it's actually happened and I've had time to think about, Mother and Father being told too soon is immensely worrying.

I've made this speech before about being an adult and that I'll be fine no matter what Father does and that's still true, but I'd like to think I can't be blamed for wanting my family to be a family.

###

"You can actually read that?" Inigo asks, staring down at me lying in my bed with pages strewn around me.

"Yep."

"It's gibberish."

"English, actually." I say, and wave the translation page in front of his face, which he snatches. I have it mostly memorized, and anything I don't understand probably isn't going to be solved by that page anyways because English is a bullshit language that throws the rules to the wind whenever it feels like it.

"Why do they use the same symbol for multiple sounds?"

"It's a messy alphabet." And that is the understatement of the century.

"Why are you even bothering with it?"

"Nathan mentioned he wrote a few things down about politics and politicians in his world, but it was before he was comfortable writing in Ylissian, and seeing as it wasn't vital information he scribbled it down in English because it was easier for the sake of his own reference in the future." I say. "I want to see if he wrote anything down for common psychological quirks in politicians or about standard political maneuvers that I might be able to abuse, hence me reading all this."

"I thought you said he focused on what was useful when writing?"

"He did… mostly. And he also wrote down whatever came to mind that he was worried he would forget, and he usually wrote that in English for the sake of speed." I hum. "It's also completely unorganized so I have to just read everything and hope to stumble across what I want. In this one page I've read incomplete song lyrics, attempts to remember the main ingredients for various dishes that I've never heard of, speculation on how something called a "steam engine" works, and a brief plot summary of a game called "Starcraft"."

"Was he having a stroke at the time?" Inigo asks dryly. "Because that's not just unorganized, that's throwing the concept of organization into a fire and crushing the fire with a boulder."

I kick him in the knee and don't dignify that with a response. I know full well that these are scribble pads and wasn't expecting them to be organized.

"Why do you care anyways? You can just wait a few months for him to wake up and ask him then."

Yeah, but I'm really feeling the effects of Nathan not being here, and immersing myself in his writing, even if it's random scribbles, is comforting in a roundabout way. His paper games are nice, but they're just not enough. I can't talk to him, but he can talk to me through these papers. I can almost hear him rambling and jumping subjects at random like he would when we were on the road in Ferox and he would talk to pass the time. It was almost like, since I didn't have a memory, he felt obliged to try and fill me in on everything I'd missed… even if I had no idea what he was talking about half the time because let's be honest, I have no idea what a "computer" is despite his explanations, and I obviously have no idea what any of the locations or names were. "I feel like it."

"How long have you been at this? Have you had any actual success?"

"A few hours, and no, not really." I admit.

Inigo shakes his head. "You need a hobby."

"I have a hobby." I pout. "But no one likes playing with me."

"Because you always win, and playing games isn't a hobby."

"It is!" I grumble. "I analyze them too."

"And that's also why no one wants to play with you."

"Are you saying I'm a tryhard?"

Inigo's eyebrows shoot up. "What's a tryhard?"

"Oh, uh, Earth term. It's someone who takes a given thing way too seriously."

"Then yes, you're a tryhard."

I give Inigo the middle finger. "Why are you here Inigo? Did you come solely to poke fun at me? Didn't you have a date today?"

"I did."

"What is it this time? Did she leave early, or was she a no-show?"

"Rude! Maybe our date was just short."

"Suuure buddy. So what happened?"

Inigo determinedly looks away for a moment, then sighs. "She didn't show."

"Hmm." Can't say I'm surprised. I wouldn't doubt she only agreed to come in the first place to get Inigo to go away. "My condolences."

"Real sincere Morgan."

"Oh, but I am." I say in a tone that makes it very clear that I'm being sarcastic. "I'm so sad, terribly so."

"Morgan…"

"I even have a gift for you, to make you feel better about this most traumatizing disappointment." I say, remembering a certain something I bought a long time ago. I roll out of bed and dig into my travel pack. I ignore the ache in my left leg as I do so. Growing pains suck, but I'm glad I can feel them. It's proof I can feel that the operation worked. "It's… here. Here you go."

I hand the red book to Inigo, not letting my expression give away my amusement. His eyebrows shoot up in confusion as he takes the book out of my hand, only to immediately furrow in annoyance when he flips open the first few pages.

"Morgan…"

"You're welcome."

"This is a bad romance book."

"Eroitca, actually."

Inigo immediately snaps the book shut and flushes red. "Erotica!? Why do you have erotica!?"

"Why wouldn't I? I'm an adult." I say. "I can buy what I want."

"But- but-"

"Enjoy."

"I can't read this!" Inigo says, aghast. "It's-"

"Inigo, it's erotica, not an eldritch text." I say. "Calm down."

This is much more funny than I thought it would be. I wouldn't expect a womanizer to be so easily flustered. I thought this would be a joke that he would raise his eyebrows at and then promptly ignore the book, not treat it like something scandalous.

"If you don't want it, I'll keep it." I say. "It would make a good souvenir of my travels in Ferox I suppose."

Inigo looks conflicted for a second, then tucks the book under his arm. I give him a knowing look, and he blushes even more brightly.

"Have fun." I say cheerfully. "You're welcome."

"Why do you always mock me?"

"Because it's easy entertainment."

###

So, remember what Crius told me before about antagonizing with purpose? Find facts and all that? It's both much easier and much harder than I thought it would be.

Here's the thing… servants talk. I don't even need to break into someone's room to look for letters in order to get information on people. All I have to do is not look like another noble, and servants are usually more than happy to talk to me. I dress up in a plain dress, and don't look down my nose while talking to them, and bam, they're as chatty and gossipy as can be. Getting dirt on people is easy.

The hard part is finding anything I can actually use. Yes, it's nice to know a certain noble tends to keep suspiciously late hours and sometimes sneaks out of their house, and that their relationship with their wife isn't so great. Anyone can connect the dots there… but I can't use that information. I could confront the noble in question about it, but that's not helpful. I might have the information, but I don't have proof. There's nothing I can show to people that says "hey, this guy is scum", and I can't count on the servants to back me up with their words because they actually want to keep their jobs.

So that's why I say this is both easy and hard. Getting information isn't difficult, but finding proof or some usable form of that information is hard. I don't go creeping into people's rooms to dig through their letters after all, though I'm starting to think I should.

I guess what I'm saying is that I don't know how to follow up on leads. I have no problem getting leads, but I can't really use them. I'm used to being able to literally punch my problems in the face or at least talk circles around them, but that just doesn't let me achieve what I want to here.

I'm explaining all of this to Crius as I sit on a small chair while he stands in front of a mirror trying to get his hair right. He's actually the one hosting tonight's event, and I'm here early.

"And so you've run into the most problematic part of the job." Crius says. "Unless you're willing to get your hands dirty and do something illegal, it's hard to get any sort of proof. Under most circumstances the most you can do is tell someone with official authority to look into things, or someone who has a stake in matters. That cheating noble? If you could get a message to his wife or perhaps his greater family or his wife's family, and tell them what to look for, you could cause serious damage to the noble's reputation. There are more ways to get someone in trouble than telling the crown."

"I see." I say. My disappointment must be rather obvious, because Crius sighs and turns to face me.

"I know you're trying to play the part of an investigator, rooting out corruption and all that, but without some sort of authority backing you up the simple fact is that you can't get someone thrown in prison or officially punished with any sort of ease."

"Who is in charge of keeping corruption at bay in court?" I ask in frustration.

"That depends on who you're talking about. If you're referring to the dukes, then it is the Exalt's duty to keep them in line and deal out punishment as necessary. The dukes, in turn, manage their barons and other power players, and the chain of responsibility continues from there."

"How is the Exalt supposed to manage the dukes when she has so much else to deal with?" I ask.

"How indeed." Crius murmurs. "And there lies the problem, including the fact that many dukes have significant power, and at least one ally among the other dukes. It is difficult, if not impossible, for the Exalt to take serious action against any one duke without the others seeing it as a potential threat against their own power base and backing up the accused duke out of self-interest rather than any moral consideration. Only truly horrific acts can the Exalt substantially punish without opposition."

Well that sucks. "I suppose I'll have to get creative then."

"Just remember-"

"I know, don't leave traces back to me, antagonize with purpose." I say with a roll of my eyes. "I remember."

"Good." Crius nods. "Now, about tonight's goal..."

###

A myriad of small things happen in the month leading up to Nathan's awakening. I take Crius' suggestion on sending a message (anonymously) to the wife and family of the wife of the cheating noble, I finally get some use out of my magic practice under Miriel to create my first custom spell, I buy an unnecessary amount of stuff, and I electrocute Risen.

The messages don't show immediate results. It will take time before that happens. Everything else is more immediately interesting.

So, my spell. If you were expecting something cool, you're going to be disappointed. I made a spell that does makeup, because I can't be bothered to learn how to do it myself. The spell isn't customizable or anything, so it does the same thing every time. I made it because dabbing my face for four hours with product is boring, so this spell can do it in five minutes. I've used it a grand total of two times, because there's rarely an occasion that I actually need it. So… I guess you could say I wasted my time, but I made a spell and I'm proud of it.

Electrocuting Risen is pretty self explanatory. After half a year of staying in Ylisstol when my life before was all travel, I could use a bit of action. Training just isn't the same as actual fighting. So when a small pack of Risen is spotted outside Ylisstol I'm quick to volunteer to go fight them. I need a change of pace.

The Shepherds stuck in the Palace feel the same, and what was going to be a personal outing with some soldiers turns into me, Father, Chrom, Lissa, Maribelle and a few pegasus knights (including Phila apparently) hunting down this insignificant Risen pack to stretch our muscles after months of inaction.

Make no mistake, it's a slaughter. It's a small Risen pack, it would have to be to slip past all the patrols around the capital. They're not elite Risen either. It's a bunch of reanimated farmers. Easy target practice.

It feels nice to tear through a squad of Risen. Lightning flies from my fingertips, exploding all the Risen into purple smoke clouds! I don't know why they do that. Corpses shouldn't explode into smoke. But they do, and it makes killing them more cool!

Lissa and Maribelle are actually testing out some combat capabilities of their own in this little fight as well. They've both been practicing magic. Lissa uses fire while Maribelle uses wind. They're slightly inaccurate and not nearly as strong as me and Father, but they're not ineffective, so good on them I suppose.

Chrom is our only proper frontliner, but it doesn't matter all that much because he slashes through Risen with ease, and has enough speed to avoid the clumsy strikes of the Risen.

As much as these Risen are a pushover, I haven't forgotten that I almost got impaled by a mere farmer Risen once before, and Nathan had to push me out of the way. As much as I'm playing around here, I make a point to shoot down any Risen that gets around behind Chrom. I'm not going to take risks here.

I mean, Chrom isn't nearly as incompetant as Nathan so I doubt a Risen randomly swinging a pitchfork around is going to be a problem, but no sense in being reckless.

Sorry Nathan, but you suck at fighting. Actually… he probably wouldn't care. He doesn't like fighting in the first place.

Cleaning up the Risen is uneventful, but it's a nice stretch of the muscles after not fighting for a while.

The last minor thing that happens in the last month is me buying stuff. A lot of stuff. With the benefit of Nathan's body being mostly complete, that means Miriel can get body measurements.

This is for clothes. Because, you know, his new (old?) body is way smaller than the one I'm used to, so pretty much everything he owns needs to be replaced. I get a few basic outfits prepared beforehand, just so he has something to wear that's his own.

That's all I was going to do for shopping… and then I saw a bookstore and remembered that Nathan had mentioned he read a lot back on his world, so maybe getting some books would be a nice gift, especially since his birthday has passed seeing as it's been an entire year. Then I see a game store, and i just have to get some things there, and-

Point is, I end up buying a lot more than I anticipated. Ah, whatever. There are worse things than being a generous girlfriend.

I make a poor show of hiding my excitement and anxiety as Nathan's day of awakening draws nearer. A week before the day, I complete the last paper game he left for me. I start to consider how that day is going to go, what I'm going to say, and what I'm going to do. I have to remember that it won't have been a year for Nathan. It'll have been the blink of an eye.

Not that it's going to change my actions all that much. Even if it's been a few seconds for him it's been a year for me and I'm going to treat it as such!

The day of Nathan's awakening I roll out of bed early. I put on something nice because I can (and because Nathtan has no idea I was going to have the operation, and I am totally going to show myself off!), have breakfast with Father, and then immediately go see Miriel, taking some clothes for Nathan with me.

There's more waiting than I would have liked. Miriel and Laurent go into the room and check that the spell is completed, and then they do their own safety checks to make sure that he's healthy and not going to suffer some major organ failure as soon as they deactivate the spell. I wait outside as they do this. I don't care to see Nathan hovering in some weird magic capsule. I'll wait until he's out, thank you very much. I handed the clothes to Laurent beforehand, so Nathan can at least get dressed before I come in.

I wait outside the door for a minute, then two, then five, until finally…

"Morgan." Laurent's voice says from the other side of the door. "He is awake and out, come in."

Trying to maintain some level of composure I straighten my clothes, take a deep breath, and hold my head high as I walk through the door.

And there we go. Timeskip over. Next chapter is Nathan's perspective. I'd like to remind you that from now on, Morgan chapters will be more frequent. You'll be getting a more equal amount of Nathan and Morgan stuff.