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

Coming out of a magic coma is an experience, and not the most pleasant one. It's not like coming out of normal sleep. I can still feel the lingering sleep magic weighing on my mind even as Miriel works to dispel it, and my body feels so incredibly heavy (despite the fact that I'm lighter than I used to be).

My limbs also don't want to work, so as soon as Miriel dismisses the capsule I fall forward, and Laurent quickly catches me.

My limbs are stiff, and on the whole I'm uncoordinated. I can barely keep myself standing when Laurent sets me on my feet again. It's not just exhaustion or dizziness, it's taking some serious effort to keep myself standing.

I know my old body- my current one now- is weaker than the one I was using a year ago, but I shouldn't be this weak. I was somewhat frail before, but I wasn't so weak I couldn't walk.

Laurent helps me into some clothes (they fit me, strangely enough. Someone came prepared) as Miriel asks questions. I have to speak in a whisper, but my voice feels very strained.

"How unusual, none of the tests showed nearly as many side-effects." Miriel murmurs. "Perhaps it has something to do with the length of time you spent in transformation. I suspect you might be suffering from muscle atrophy, as your muscles developed a few months ago and have not had a chance to exercise."

Yay. Still, that's a small price for having my body back. I can't tell you how good it feels to see my familiar, bony hands out in front of me rather than the meaty, sausage fingers of my Naga-given body.

Miriel quickly does some checks with magic (she even has a brain scan spell. When did she make that?), asks me a bunch of questions (how do you feel physically? Emotionally? How uncomfortable are you) and then makes me do a few simple things like stretching and walking in a straight line to make sure I have my full capabilities (albeit currently weakened due to atrophy).

By the time Miriel's simple requests are done I can barely walk. A few minutes of moving around completely wiped me out, which is ridiculous.

Miriel says something to Laurent while I lean against a wall for support and Laurent goes to the door and speaks to someone outside.

Then the door opens and… someone… steps though.

I've said before that most of the Shepherds are immediately identifiable. Their faces, despite being translated from the game's art style to reality, are very recognizable. Therefore, I assume this lady is not a Shepherd.

She looks sort of like what you'd expect female Robin to look like. The medium build to be specific. If this is actually female Robin that's going to throw a huge wrench in everything I thought I knew about this world, but she doesn't look so much like female Robin that I think it's actually her. It's just a strange resemblance.

How to explain... so, basic facts: She has short black hair with a vague purple sheen to it, peach skin, and she's a few inches taller than I am. Her face is… hmm… take medium female Robin's face, make it more round and soft, and slap on the most smug grin you've ever seen. She's also got legs, and based on her outfit she is very aware of this fact.

Part of the reason I really doubt it's Robin is that she isn't wearing the distinctive tactician longcoat. This lady is wearing a nice purple dress. It's not the sort of thing you'd see on Earth, where it looks like one continuous piece of silky fabric with no hemlines or anything. Not that sort of dress. Yet I wouldn't say it looks properly medieval either. The dress is a form-fitting, ankle-length, sheath dress with slits on the sides of the skirt so her legs peek out and a moderate neckline, and the material clearly isn't silk so it doesn't have that distinct sheen you see on fancy Earthly dresses.

Is there a party going on? Why is she here if there's a party going on? Who is this person? I'm actually rather uncomfortable having a stranger, even- no, especially an attractive stranger, eyeing me while I'm in such a weak state. I'd rather she wasn't here.

Miriel wouldn't let just anyone in here though. It has to be someone relatively important. Maybe she is female Robin?

"-unusually weak. We think it may be due to muscle atrophy. He will require more physical therapy than expected, and for longer." Miriel explains to the lady. Again, why is this lady being told all about this? Why is she in charge of me? What changed while I was out? Where's Morgan? "There may be other additional side-effects that I am unaware of. The length of his time in transformation was many times longer than the tests, so I cannot easily predict other consequences."

"Be assured that his atrophy is not so severe." Laurent says. "The fact that he can stand on his own demonstrates as much."

"Who…" I try to say something, but my voice really isn't working. I can only whisper, and none of them can hear me at the moment.

My legs are also starting to give out, so I slump more against the wall. This is something the others do notice, but it's the lady rather than Miriel or Laurent that comes over to me. I instinctively shrink into myself when she reaches out to touch me and scowl in distrust, and that makes her frown.

"Nathaaan." She says, and something clicks in my head. There's no way. "Even if you're grumpy, you shouldn't give the cold shoulder to your own girlfriend!"

I blink slowly, processing that information. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?" She answers. When I don't ask a question, she realizes what my rhetorical question was actually for, and her grin returns to her face. "Wait, did you not recognize me?"

"Well…"

"Was it because I'm super hot now? Is that it?" She asks, smiling with supreme smugness. "It's the legs, isn't it? 'Cause I got legs now!"

That's definitely Morgan. Stupid amounts of self-confidence, no shame, and jumping straight to lewdness. "I'd hope you had legs before now." I rasp. "Or else I worry about how you managed to walk."

"Don't you know? I used illusion magic." Morgan jokes. Again she reaches out, and this time I don't shrink away. She slides her arms under my shoulders and around my chest and holds me up like that, and in turn I wrap my arms around her shoulders to stabilize myself. It's at this point I remember again that Morgan is now taller than me, because my eyes only come up to her chin.

It's a strange feeling to have Morgan looking down on me, literally. I'm used to being multiple heads taller than her, and this dynamic feels very different. I guess the core of it is that Morgan looks more powerful and more dominant from this perspective. I know it's just a psychological quirk where taller people look like they're more in charge and more important, especially in person, but just because I know the quirk doesn't mean I don't get feelings associated with it.

Morgan realizes she's taller than me now too, and instantly lets me know it. "It's cute that you're smaller than me now. I think I like this."

"You just like that it makes you feel tall." I say.

"Well, that's certainly a bonus." Morgan says with a grin. "But think about it. I can pick you up now, or hold you in place, and have all sorts of fun~"

"Jumping straight to the vaguely lewd implications, aren't we?'

"Nathan, I haven't been able to make lewd jokes in a year, you bet I'm not holding back now."

Fair enough. "I'd still poke you in the nose if I wasn't exhausted."

"And on that note, you need to lie down." Laurent interrupts. "Morgan-"

"I'll take him back to his room." She says. "I remember your instructions. Nothing too heavy for meals, nothing strenuous for a few days."

With Laurent's help I'm put on Morgan's back so she can carry me. I feel bad about potentially damaging her dress, but Morgan either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

Either through luck or through planning, we don't run into anyone on the way back. We don't run into any servants in the halls, and most of the Shepherds are thankfully out at the moment, so Morgan can carry me into the barracks and into my room without any interruption.

I vaguely notice the pile of stuff now in the corner of my room that I certainly didn't own a year ago, but honestly I'm just tired. I know Morgan wants to talk, but as soon as I'm laid down on the bed I'm ready to sleep. I think walking around as much as I did, which is barely anything at all, completely wiped me out.

Morgan doesn't try to keep me up when I'm clearly not capable of it. She closes the curtains and leaves me alone, and within minutes of her leaving I'm no longer awake.

###

I wake up because of food. Specifically Morgan bringing food. She's also changed into something more normal. I guess it's good her coat was always a bit oversized, because it fits nicely now.

"I could have walked to the dining room." I protest.

"And I would have had to carry you back." Morgan says. "And besides, I want you to myself at the moment. Everyone else can wait their turn."

"I think you grossly overestimate the number of people who care to talk to me Morgan."

"I can think of at least five." Morgan says. "My brother, Severa, Yarne, Cynthia, and Owain all certainly want to talk to this outworlder they've heard so much about."

"You better not have been talking me up, or else they're going to be sorely disappointed."

"I've only talked about you extensively to Inigo." Morgan says. "Because he kept asking."

"Good."

"Besides, I'm sure Nah and Kjelle have told them enough about you anyways."

Right. I totally forgot about them. "Anyhow, what happened while I was asleep? I'm sure you have some stories to tell."

"Maybe one or two." Morgan says. "I won battles, dueled wits in high society, and broke hearts… and fingers, and toes, and a nose, and maybe an arm or two…"

"I'm guessing you don't mean in battle, judging by your town."

"I mean at parties." Morgan says, and she sounds delighted by this fact. "I've been playing around with nobles and aristocrats and such, and some of them were so entranced by my incredible intelligence and good looks that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves! That, or they feared me and tried to keep me quiet, because I'm just that awesome!"

"Playing around at court, huh?" I say. "I feel sorry for all those nobles already…"

"Don't be, they were mostly scum." Morgan chirps. "But it was fun for a while, at least until I had to get serious so I could make real change."

"Real change?"

"Well, not much at the moment." Morgan admits. "Mostly I'm trying to get dirt on some particularly unsavory individuals. Getting the information isn't hard, but proof is more difficult."

I nod in understanding, and motion for her to keep on talking as I start to eat.

Morgan has a lot to say, and it takes much longer than me finishing my meal. In fact, that's how we spend the entire afternoon. I lie on the bed as Morgan chatters on about their trip to get Severa and Yarne and how she had a fucking brain tumor which Miriel casually removed like that isn't a precise surgery that would require years of training back on Earth. She talks about someone named Crius who is mentoring her in the ways of the court ("we're overdue to renegotiate our deal actually. I think we both totally forgot about that") and about Inigo and how he accidentally revealed that Robin and Olivia are their parents, and really anything else she can think to tell me.

It's about what I expected to happen on my first day awake: a crash course on what Morgan did for the last year.

###

It's weird to wake up and see a different face. Not my face, to be clear. Morgan's. I've gotten used to having my old body back very quickly, but I keep being caught off guard each morning when Morgan walks into my room. It's hard to reconcile small Morgan with tall Morgan, even if she acts the same.

Anyhow.

The next two weeks are a slow, exhausting process of bringing myself up to some level of physical functionality. I thought Morgan had a job, but apparently it's not important or she took time off because she's by my side the entire time.

To be clear, when I say "some level of physical functionality" I don't mean fitness. I am not fit by any stretch of the imagination. I just mean that I'm making it so I can walk from the barracks to the castle without needing to sleep for three hours afterwards.

In between physical rehabilitation, when I'm not playing a game or doing something similarly fun or unimportant with Morgan, I catch up on what's happening in the world and deal with a lot of introductions. Morgan met a lot of people while doing court stuff, and those people are obviously around the castle area a lot, so every time we leave the barracks we're running into someone who recognizes Morgan.

Honestly, I can't remember any of those people within maybe a few minutes of meeting them. I really just don't care about them, and Morgan doesn't encourage me to. By her own admittance, most of them don't matter all that much.

The introductions I actually care about are the new future children, but I'm going to have to wait on them because they're off with the main group of the Shepherds. The only Shepherds here in Ylisstol and not out killing Risen are the ones with politics or paperwork or something equally dull to deal with. Them and Morgan.

"We're going to be going to Ferox, and then to Valentia soon enough." Morgan informs me at some point. "Under the guise of the Blue Scale mercenary company. You can meet them then. I think Father and Chrom wanted to ask you to come along. Your notes are nice and all, but it's no substitute for you being there to clarify information and fill in gaps."

Fair enough. I'd feel bad sitting around in Ylisstol while everyone else is out in Valentia anyways. There's only so much I can do from a continent away. I mean, there's only so much I can do in person, but at least I can help around camp if I'm there in person.

Weeks drag on as I slowly improve my fitness. At two months me and Morgan start incorporating sword fighting back into my daily routine. I was practicing swords before my transformation, and honestly that might have been detrimental because I have to relearn quite a bit. I have to adapt for my much shorter reach and lack of strength. Rather than learning to block everything I have to learn to deflect, and Morgan makes a point to teach me techniques that don't rely on raw power. I pick up my crossbow again for the first time in forever, and thankfully within a few hours of practice I'm back up to where I was before.

Thank Naga for the simplicity of a crossbow. Just aim and press the trigger.

Morgan also starts doing more work at court, leaving me with time to myself. I use that time on a plan I've come up with.

See, I won't be contributing in a fight, right? Yes, I can help around camp, but anyone can do that, and they can probably do it better than me because they'll have the physical strength. However, I still have something no one else does: games.

So I have a plan. So far I've been making games just for me and Morgan, aside from that one for Virion I made as a gift. However, I can imagine soldiers would enjoy having a wide array of distractions for their precious free time, so I get to work using my time away from Morgan to start making a variety of games.

Maybe it'll have to be some sort of game library where you check out the game and return it, just so I don't lose anything, but regardless of how I go about this business I can at least provide something useful.

I start with copies of the games I've made so far. Checkers is easy to make, as is Yahtzee and Abalone. Dice, marbles, and small disks are not a problem to carve out, and the game boards are simple as well.

I stretch out to some more luck-based games after that. Soldiers love gambling, right? Might as well tailor to that. To do this necessitates learning how to make cards or getting someone to make them for me, because most of the luck-based games I know involve cards. I do both, though I quickly realize I need specialized equipment to make my own cards. Making paper is time-consuming, and the process of doing even simple art on all the needed cards for games is even more so. Varnish is a bitch to get sometimes, but isn't all that difficult to apply.

In the end, I decide it's more practical to leave making cards to someone else and simply buy the cards, especially since I'll need a large amount of them. Through learning about card production, however, I make some useful contacts in a small group of card-makers and their associated artists who are quite interested in the variety of custom cards I need for my games. The money I've made off being a Shepherd is enough to cover a few games' worth of custom cards, so I order those with the promise of more orders to come.

I learned about those card-makers through Morgan, actually. She asked a few questions to some merchants at court and pointed me in the right direction. Connections are useful.

It makes sense why the cards I ordered were quite expensive considering how common of an item cards are when I receive the first ones. These are professional, high-quality cards with art to match.

Well, I guess I'm going to have mediocre boards and pieces with really nice cards. Whatever. It inspires me to put more effort into those boards though, and carefully dabble in painting the pieces rather than bare-bones unpainted wood like I've been doing so far.

These games are starting to look like proper games, so to speak, rather than just slapped-together wooden planks and lumpy figurines.

I have a vague plan in the back of my mind that involves taking advantage of my new contacts' skills to quickly produce some fully card-based games and sell them for profit rather than reserving them for my game library idea, but I push that plan to the back of my mind for now. One thing at a time. I'd have to sell those games to people who can pay enough to afford the cost of making them, and that means trying to sell to nobility and aristocracy. Let's not take that risk yet.

So, uh, yeah. That's what happens in the background over a few months. Exercise, training, and making board games. It's really not that different from what I was doing before, but I have much more of a purpose for all of this than before.

###

In many ways, spending time with Morgan is the same as always. We play games, train and spar, talk a lot, and do bits. Yet, there are undeniable differences brought on by the gap of a year between us. For one, I wouldn't hesitate to say Morgan dotes on me now. Not in the sense of constantly fretting over me, but in the sense that I am suddenly getting a steady stream of gifts. It's usually minor things like a trinket I showed interest in, despite the fact that I could easily afford such things if I really wanted them. This is in addition to all the stuff she got me for when I woke up as well. I struggle to find anything to give her in response. I just don't have the eye for potential gifts and hate to buy something thoughtlessly. Though I do get Morgan a few things here and there when I find something appropriate.

Morgan also takes me out to restaurants fairly often as well, which is nice, but that's not cheap to do. I'm flattered, but also not sure how to take the fact that Morgan is spending a not insignificant amount of money on me.

She's also… uh… maybe you should just see...

"I'm starting to think you're a little too happy about being taller and stronger than me."

"Whaaat?" Morgan says with a large grin. "Me? Never. What makes you think I'm too happy about this?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe the part where you're pinning me to the wall?" I suggest. "Or how you make a point to hug me tight enough that I can't wiggle away?"

"I never noticed!" Morgan gasps, obviously joking. She promptly tightens her hug. "Thanks for telling me, now I can do it intentionally!"

"Just so airheaded you didn't notice, huh?" I attempt to tease. "You grew physically but shrunk your brain."

"Yep. I'm just a dumb young girl playing around at court, at the mercy of all the big important men there." Morgan says. "Looking for a powerful husband, like a good daughter concerned with her family's prestige."

Suuure. "So what does that make me?" I say. "I'm certainly not powerful."

"Poor Nathan, being toyed with by a rich girl." Morgan teases.

"Is that the bit we're going with?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "The poor schmuck trying to court the flighty rich girl without realizing she has other interests in mind?"

"Sure, I like it." Morgan chirps. "Ooh, maybe it's that I think of you like a pet! Something fun and cute and entertaining that I can shower with affection without any actual romantic notion in mind, despite what my actions would suggest."

"That can work." I nod. "Although…"

"Hmm?"

"You're seriously hugging a bit too tight, it's hurting my ribs."

"Ah." Morgan loosens her grip. "Sorry. I keep forgetting how frail you are now… I mean, I remember that I'm stronger than you of course, but I never had to take into account how much force I used because you had so much muscle."

I roll my eyes a bit. "I'm sorry I'm not the perfect squeeze toy."

"The perfect toy wouldn't talk back." Morgan shoots back, smiling again.

"Oh I see, you just want someone who you can boss around. You're showing your true colours now that you feel all in-charge." I tease. "All it took was a few centimeters of height for the truth to come out."

"Guilty as charged." Morgan shrugs. "I do like to feel in charge, and I like to feel you squirm a bit."

Wow, uh, "Coming on strong today, aren't we?" This is what I mean. There's obviously always been strong innuendo and sexual undertones to and surrounding our bits, but Morgan has become rather forward lately. I'm not saying that's bad, but I'm at a loss as to what to do about it and have so far been dancing around it.

"Yes." Morgan says, not even bothering to make a joke out of it. She leans in very close, bringing us nose-to-nose. "I may or may not have been waiting more than a year to be able to do things like this."

I try to ignore my dry throat and pounding heart. This wouldn't be so hard to deal with if Morgan was small! I can deal with small, impish Morgan. I could pat her on the head or poke her on the nose and deflate this whole situation. It would be our usual routine. But those actions were specifically brought on by our height dynamic. Now, Morgan is taller than me, and rather than just being cute she's… hot? It's throwing me for a loop.

It's stupid that I'm getting flustered over her. I literally made a joke a year ago about an oedipus complex (and it was a joke. It was purely for a bit), and now I'm getting nervous about much more standard relationship stuff.

I don't want to treat this like a bit though. I could put on a mask and act my way through this, but that feels rude. I wish my limited confidence was more than a facade I could throw on when doing a bit. "Why not before I had the spell performed on me?"

"Because that wasn't you, exactly." Morgan says. "I just… okay, I've wanted to be a bit more forward for a while, but even when I knew you would be staying here and not leaving to Earth it didn't feel right to… I don't have a good explanation… show affection or interest towards your Naga body. Because that's essentially not you, and I didn't want to show myself being interested in that body when you made it clear you weren't a fan of it."

I'm rather humbled by such consideration. Morgan apparently put a lot of thought into when it would be appropriate for her to act. I hadn't even considered that my old body might have been a factor affecting how me and Morgan interacted beyond simple height dynamics (like not being able to give her piggyback rides anymore). As much credit as I always give Morgan, I still haven't been giving her enough apparently.

"So, anyways, unless you're going to protest, I wanna kiss." Morgan says bluntly. A grin crosses her face. "And you're not going to say no, are you?"

"Of course not, but goddamnit Morgan I can't keep up with you."

"I'm not moving that fast Nathan." She laughs. "You're just nervous."

"Well yeah." I start to babble. "It's just, I-"

"Okay." Morgan interrupts, and releases the hug to grab my shirt at the shoulders. "So, since you're stalling, I'm going."

"Going? As in leave-?" I'm cut off by Morgan, who is not leaving, doing the expected thing and kissing me.

So, uh, because I was an anti-social shut-in I've never actually kissed someone before, and I can say now that it feels weird. Not bad, just… weird. I guess I'll say that tongues are weird and teeth get in the way. I also feel safe in saying that most of the appeal comes from the hormone rush that comes alongside the act rather than the act itself.

But it's certainly one hell of a rush. Ten out of ten, would- will- do again. Hopefully.

I'll spare you the details of the next hour or so. You can guess, and if you can't… it's more of the same. What did you expect?

###

After hearing about him for a few months from Morgan, I end up meeting Crius, and it's entirely by accident.

I don't exactly know why he's in the barracks. From what I'm aware he usually meets Morgan at whatever event is going on, so this is unusual.

I recognize him from the description Morgan gave me. Dark orange hair with some grey in it, tall, and with ostentatious dress.

I'm returning from picking up more cards. They're currently in a neat wooden box in my left hand. It's for a game called Sorry that I'm recreating. Morgan is not enthused by this one because of the heavy luck factor, and I agree honestly. It's not for us, it's purely for the game library idea.

I'm starting to plan out the making of Scythe, but that's going to take a lot of time and effort. I'm committed to it though. I really like that game, and I want to have it back.

Er, anyways, Crius.

Honestly I considered not talking to him. Just walking past him and not saying anything. He's Morgan's business, not mine. I'm not sure if Morgan would want me talking to him. Court can be a vicious place, and I don't want to accidentally say something wrong.

At the same time though… I want to know if he's really awful, or if Morgan is pushing him around. I know Morgan has grown over the last year and all, but it's hard to forget those times Morgan pushed people around just because she could.

"Are you looking for Morgan?" I ask quietly, causing the man to startle. Apparently I was more quiet than I thought. "I can go fetch her."

"It's quite alright." Crius says. "She was present just a moment ago, and will return soon."

"Ah, good." I murmur sheepishly. My courage mostly deserts me, and I try to get out of this conversation. "I'll just be on my way then…"

"Would you happen to be Nathan, by any chance?" Crius asks. "You match the description of such a person Morgan has mentioned."

"Has mentioned?" I guess Morgan spoke of me once or twice then didn't mention me again. Fair enough. I'm not sure I'd want her going on about me to people at court anyways, even her… boss? Mentor? Morgan calls him a mentor, but he sounds more like a boss to me based on what I know they've been up to. "Well, yes, I'm Nathan. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Crius nods. "Has Morgan spoken of me in turn? Or is she not one for court business at home?"

Is that a question I should be answering? I don't know how politics work. Is Crius fishing for information? Am I just being paranoid? Can I trust his questions?

Short answers then, just to be safe. Don't say anything more than you have to. "You've been mentioned before. She talks about some things."

Crius raises his eyebrows at my curt, slightly distrusting tone. I didn't mean to sound hostile, but I suppose my curtness was always going to sound a bit rude. Oops?

"Cautious, aren't we?" He says.

"Yes." I say. "Morgan knows you, I don't."

"That is true, I suppose." Crius nods. "But you could benefit from being more subtle about your caution."

"It's a good thing I'm not a politician then." I say.

"Indeed." Crius murmurs.

It's at this point Morgan appears and interrupts our awkward little conversation. She's dressed in something nice again. Not as nice as what she was wearing when I first woke up after my transformation, but relatively nice all the same. "I'm read- oh, Nathan!"

She completely disregards the much more important person in the room for a moment to give me a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, and I (much more tentatively) return the gesture.

"I'm going to a party!" Morgan chirps.

"I can tell." I say. The outfit makes that obvious enough. "Perhaps you should be talking to the person who is here to escort you… I presume."

"Indeed." Crius says, and offers his arm. "Lady Morgan."

"Okay, okay!" Morgan says. Her face quickly settles into something much more calm and less obviously enthusiastic. She's putting on a mask. Even I can identify that. "I'm ready, milord."

I try not to snort. Morgan calling someone "milord" is not something I ever thought I'd hear. She's usually so irreverent. "Enjoy yourself… I mean, if you can."

"I will." Morgan says. "I'll be back late, don't wait for me."

"Alright."

Morgan and Crius leave, and I still can't decide whether I trust Crius or not. I guess I'll have to put faith in Morgan's judgement.

Not that it will matter all that much. In about a month, the Shepherds are going to be leaving to northern Ylisse to get training for some specialized weapons (that's actually classified information which I'm pretty sure Morgan shouldn't have told me, but she trusts me) and then we're going to be leaving for Valentia after that.

I spend the evening and some of the knight working on making Sorry to take my mind off that looming inevitability.

This is a chapter I suppose. It's just a transition to fill in the rest of the lull between wars. We'll be getting to Valentia in the next chapter or two.