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

Nathan.

Depending on how you see it, we either arrive at the Mila Tree at the perfect time or the worst time. We're just in time to see a major battle underway, so we're just in time to help… but that also means we're fighting.

"Fucking finally! It's been too long since I've stabbed something!" Sully whoops as she pulls out her spear. "Rob, can I-"

"No Sully." Robin cuts her off. "We're going around the side to flank. We're too small a force to rush into the middle of battle, and don't want to get in the way of allied maneuvers. Cordelia, Sumia, Cynthia! I need you up in the air. Point us in the right direction. Everyone else, form up. Nathan-"

I startle to attention. I wasn't expecting to be specifically picked out. I don't have any special combat benefits after all.

"-take the horses and our supplies and find the allied camp. Offer what we supplies we have to help, then find command and alert them that we're here." Robin instructs. "Tell them we're trying to flank around the south." He shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out a letter. It's got the royal seal on it, which gives me pause. This has to be something important. "Keep this on you as well. If something happens to us, give it to Virion."

"I- uh- yes." I say, my voice cracking as I talk. I take the letter and slide it into my pack. "Got it."

A flurry of activity follows as the Shepherds grab weapons from the cart and fall into formation. Morgan gives me a quick hug and murmured reassurance (which is stupid because she's the one going into battle), and then the rest of the Shepherds are marching away, leaving me to lead four horses and two carts to a camp that I don't know the location of.

Thankfully, I'm on a hill, so I can look down and make a guess at which random mass of people is a camp. Actually, the Mila tree is in the middle of a huge bowl, surrounded on all sides by hills. It sits in the middle of a lake, it's roots serving as bridges across it. Most of the fighting is taking place on the far side of the tree from where I am, in the direction of Valm.

Even from here I can see the pockmarked land on the far side of the tree, most of it behind the current battle line. I have a feeling this isn't the first battle that occurred here.

It feels like it takes forever to make even a little ground. The horses don't like the decline they're walking down because it's causing the cart to roll forward faster than they're moving and hit them in the butt, so I have to lead them on a diagonal to minimize the unwanted rolling (the last thing I need is the horses startling and ruining everything. There's no way I can round up four horses if they get loose), and I keep slowing down to look over at the ever-shrinking backs of the Shepherds to my left.

Even from a distance, the battle is nothing like I've seen before. The small-scale fights I've been in so far just don't compare to an actual military conflict. I can't make out individual people from this distance, and can mostly just see blocks of colour smashing into each other. The Valmese army is red, and the allied army is a mish-mash of violet and beige. Wyverns soar through the sky, engaging in aerial duels far above the range of any archers or mages, and the victor almost always makes a near-vertical dive at enemy lines, smashing through a particular spot before pulling up and returning to the skies. Some are shot down, usually when pulling up, but I'm surprised to see most of the wyverns and their riders actually survive the maneuver to repeat it again and again until an enemy rider comes along to occupy them.

I try and look for pink hair, hoping to pick out Cherche, but the riders are simply too small from this distance.

It takes far too long to move with the horses. I couldn't tell you how long because watches don't exist here, but it takes more than twenty minutes to get a quarter of the way to my destination which is way too long in a situation like this. Aren't horses supposed to be fast?

All the while I'm walking down I can hear indistinct shouting and loud noises travelling over from the other side of the bowl. I can't imagine how deafening it must be in the actual thick of combat.

A small stream flowing down to the lake poses an unexpected obstacle. The horses don't want to cross it, there's a very real chance one of the carts might get stuck, and I don't see a bridge, so I make the decision to follow it down. At worst, I'll have to navigate the roots of the Mila tree. I don't want to make the long trek up the bowl only to find there's still no bridge to cross.

It feels like a waste of time. I want to just leave the horses and run off to find Virion, but I can't abandon the supplies.

I've completely lost track of the Shepherds at this point. They're one of several small blobs of people running to the southern flank of the battle. Every time one of those groups joins the main battle I cross my fingers, hoping it isn't the Shepherds so Morgan can stay safe for another few minutes.

Eventually, eventually, I find a spot where the stream widens and thins until it's just a one-inch sheet of water covering a wide area, and the horses can be convinced to cross. Their hooves splash up water and one of the carts gets caught in the water-soaked rocks.

"Come on Harry." I encourage, feeling supremely foolish for talking to a horse. Horses aren't like Snowflake (who I'm convinced is borderline sentient), they're shy, irrational, annoying animals to try and manage. Then again, I've never been good with animals, and there's a reason Sumia is usually leading the carts.

Harry whineys and pushes forward, with George following suit. The cart lurches behind them, finally coming free of the rocks.

Morgan is probably burning people alive, and I'm talking to a fucking horse.

Something bright catches my eye, and when I turn I can see a pair of manaketes suddenly flying over the battlefield. I can also see about a dozen fireballs get lobbed their way almost instantly, which they dodge well enough, but that's not very reassuring. The enemy is smart enough to target the manaketes.

After an agonizingly long navigating a path the horses are actually willing to walk, I finally come across my first allied camp. The people there are clearly Chon'sinese, and most of them seem to be medics or runners. I can see stretchers of wounded men being carried into a large tent along with a few guards that squint suspiciously at me.

"Hello!" I call, waving a hand at the soldiers. My heart is pounding in my chest. Please understand me. Please let one of them speak English. "Can you understand me?"

Most of the guards clearly don't understand me, but one does. "This is a battlefield! Leave at once!" He tries to shout in heavily-accented, halting, unsure English.

"I know it's a battlefield. I'm from the Shepherds." I say. Then, realizing that a rank-and-file probably doesn't know who the Shepherds are, I add; "I've come to offer what supplies we have to help, from the Prince of Ylisse and the High Deliverer. I also need to speak with Virion or Say'ri, if possible."

I don't know how much I said is understood, but it's enough that the guards don't shoo me away and instead send for someone who can better understand me. Soon enough I'm explaining things to someone who I'm fairly sure is a runner, who is in turn translating for someone who I think is an officer.

"Do you have proof of your allegiance? That you are a part of this group as you claim?" The runner asks, translating a question from the officer.

I panic for a moment, because it's not like the Shepherds have uniforms or pins or something, and then I remember the letter Robin gave me. It has the royal seal on it. Maybe that will work?

The officer is a bit confused when I brandish a letter but don't let him read it, but upon spotting the seal his eyes widen and he quickly arranges for the runner to bring me to Say'ri, and they take the horses and cart off my hands (I have to quickly give instructions about which things are not for them to touch). Soon I'm following the runner through camps of wounded men and people hauling supplies and shouting orders down to the huge roots of the Mila Tree.

The runner leaves me at the base of the tree's staircase before dashing off. Say'ri is up at the top, which seems really inefficient to me because it would take forever for runners to get up and down the staircase to convey orders. Still, I start making the climb. Oddly, there are no runners in sight. I'm alone in climbing the staircase.

Still, it's faster to run up the staircase than move stubborn horses over streams, so I'm at the top within fifteen minutes.

The first voice I hear is reassuring. It's Virion's familiar refined speech, and in English no less. "I must insist you don't participate my lady. If you were to show yourself, the Valmese army would collapse on you in an instant."

"I must agree with Duke Virion." Say'ri's voice says. "It's too much of a risk."

"I do not wish to sit here as our people risk their lives." Tiki's voice replies tersely. "The very least I could do is contribute my strength. I don't have your tactical or strategic sensibilities, I am useless here."

Cresting the last stair, I can see the three of them standing at the far edge of a large, grassy platform. I sort of assumed the top of the Mila Tree was Tiki's room or something, not a huge platform… and a small, temple-like room right in the middle.

"You'd get targeted the instant you transformed!" I shout instead of announcing myself. "Nowi and Nah got fireballs thrown at them as soon as they showed themselves!"

Say'ri startles and almost draws her sword, Tiki straights a bit, and even Virion flinches, though Virion's shock quickly turns to smile. "Ah, Nathan! How fortuitous! I presume that means the Shepherds have arrived?"

"They have." I say, joining the small group. I quickly bow to Tiki and Say'ri before peering over the edge of the tree. "They went to the south flank, and sent me to make you all aware." I point, hoping they can follow my finger. "You can see Nowi and Nah down there, actually."

They probably didn't see the manaketes because they really are barely visible through the leaves unless you know what you're looking for, and they're awkwardly off to the left, forcing you to crane your head if you want to spot them.

"So you can!" Virion says, smiling. "I suppose we should have expected dragons to make an entrance, yes?"

I think he's forcing enthusiasm a little there, but sure, no need to bring down the mood.

Say'ri abruptly grabs something off a small table I didn't even see was here until now- she grabs a small orb- and holds it up to her mouth. She speaks in Chon'sinese, snapping an order, before putting the orb down.

"Won't that be intercepted?" I ask when Say'ri is done speaking. The attack on our ship is still fresh in my mind, after all.

Say'ri's eyes don't leave the battlefield, fixated on a blob of red I eventually identify as an incoming wyvern brigade. "Communication orbs alter words during transmission and remake them on the other end. Even if it was intercepted, they would be nothing but nonsense."

Ah, of course. She's not as dumb as me and Morgan were. There's no way she'd use magical communication if she knew it could be listened to. That was a stupid question on my part.

"Fear not! We are versed in magical communications." Virion reassures, and pats me on the back. "Our metaphorical ship shan't be intercepted."

"Virion…" Tiki says, admonishment clear in her voice.

"Ah, well, perhaps that was insensitive." Virion coughs. "You're all uninjured, I hope?"

"We're fine." I say. I don't expand on it. The cavaliers lost their mounts, everyone lost personal items, and it sucked, but we survived it. Still, I'd rather not dwell. "Incidentally, I don't suppose there's some other inconvenient truth about magic I should be made aware of going forward?"

"Mages can detect magic to an extent. If you're trying to be stealthy, don't use magic." Say'ri says curtly. "May we return to business?"

"Of course, of course." Virion says. He glances at me. "Are you joining us?"

I shake my head. "I'm no tactician, nor a strategist. I'd just be in the way."

I stand back as the three of them go back to observing the battle, occasionally calling down orders, and arguing over a battle map on the table. I'm asked questions once or twice when the Shepherds are involved, but otherwise there's little for me to do.

It takes seven full hours before the battle ends. My main contribution is badgering the three of them to actually eat their goddamn dinner when it arrives, because people don't make good decisions on an empty stomach, and trying to focus for hours at a time without pause isn't a great idea either.

Honestly, dealing with Say'ri is like dealing with Morgan in some respects. She scowls and tries to make excuses that she's the only one who can command the battle and bla bla bla like she doesn't have a few dozen highly competent commanders who can handle things for five fucking minutes while she eats her rice, and Virion is still paying attention to the battle so no, I won't listen to her excuse that she needs to be constantly looking at the battlefield or else something will be missed, and she's going to give herself eye strain like that so she can spare five minutes to rest her eyes and eat already or I will force-feed her. Her commanders took a moment to eat, so she can too.

It feels absurd to be having a staring contest with the leader of a country whose army is currently in battle because she won't eat her rice, but that's what I'm doing. I blink first, but it doesn't really matter because Tiki takes my side and, with the pressure of the Voice on my side, Say'ri reluctantly sits down and has her meal.

When she's done, Virion has his, and then after that Tiki has hers. Virion and Tiki don't argue when I tell them to eat. Virion seems quite amused actually. He also looks very, very tired, because by that point I've been up in the tree for four hours, and he's been there longer.

It's a relief when the battle is over and I no longer have to pace around the top of the tree with nothing to do but bother important people until they remember that eating is a thing they have to do.

###

I take my leave from Virion and Say'ri when the battle ends, but before the Shepherds can get anywhere close to the Mila Tree. I give the letter to Virion with instructions to return it to Robin, and then march off to hash out where the Shepherds are going to set up camp with the quartermasters of the armies. It's not too much of a problem. The Shepherds are a small group full of important people, so we're given a spot near the command tents, which means on the edge of the lake around the Mila Tree's roots.

I get our carts over to the site, and send a runner to lead the Shepherds over here. Chrom and Robin will probably head to the Mila Tree, but I don't want everyone else to be wandering around the camps trying to find where they're supposed to be.

I don't bother trying to set up all the tents. I have something more important to do. I pull out the cooking supplies and set about making a very late dinner. The sun is almost gone, and it's going to be fully dark within the hour, but it's not like the Shepherds have eaten during the battle. I make something simple and warm, meaning soup, and I make a lot of it. I make something relatively light, knowing that the Shepherds are going to be exhausted and that something heavy honestly might make them throw up depending on how terrible they already feel.

The Shepherds appear out of the dusk looking like shit. Kjelle is dragging the butt of her spear along the ground, Noire is blinking constantly with red, tired eyes, and Morgan… she looks a mess, as you might expect. Her hair is plastered with sweat, her coat has several new tears in it, and she shuffles along instead of walking.

It's a relief to see her nonetheless. I instantly feel much more calm.

The Shepherds are not chatty. They drop onto the ground with barely a word, and the few that are still functioning to some level go about setting up the tents. I spend my time doing something I've been doing a lot of lately: bothering people until they eat. It's not difficult. Even if everyone is tired, they're also hungry, so it's not hard to push bowls with hot soup into people's hands and expect them to eat.

"Come on Noire." I murmur, poking her in the cheek. "Food first."

"I'm tired." Noire protests. She's glaring (I'm getting a lot of those today) but the usual sudden wrath of her is muted by her exhaustion. "Lemme sleep."

"If you're going to sleep, do it in your tent."

"My tent isn't up."

"Then eat until it is." I say, and hand her the bowl. Noire eyes it, then reluctantly sits up and takes it. "Don't worry. Just a few minutes more and you can rest."

Noire sighs and accepts the spoon I hand to her. I go through more or less the same process with all the other future kids while Cordelia (who looks like shit and even has a bandage around her leg but is somehow still moving) handles most of the first generation before eventually taking a bowl for herself.

I help Laurent and Kellam set up the rest of the tents, and most of the Shepherds gratefully slink into them and almost immediately go to sleep. Lissa stays up for a bit longer, checking over a few of the nastier wounds that were sustained over the battle, but turns in within an hour as well.

Soon it's only me that's awake. I move Morgan, who had fallen asleep against a log while waiting for me (despite my protests, might I add) into our tent and tuck her into her bedroll, and then go back outside and sit around the fire, keeping it going enough to heat the remaining soup still in the pot so Chrom, Robin, Maribelle, and Frederick have something hot to eat when they return.

They return sooner than I was expecting. I thought I would be waiting hours, but they return only a dozen minutes after I move Morgan.

I don't give them any greeting because I figure they don't care for small talk at this point. I simply spoon some soup into bowls and hand it to them. Robin and Frederick give me tired nods, and Chrom and Maribelle each mutter something that sounds like a thank you.

When even those four are done eating and slip into their respective tents, I drink what little remains of the soup myself (because my dinner was almost five hours ago by this point) and douse the cooking fire. I'm the last one to slip into my tent, but I have little doubt I'll be the first awake tomorrow.

###

I wake up to the sound of footsteps and talking, but poking my head out of my tent reveals the cause to be Chon'sinese and Rosannite soldiers, and not any of the Shepherds.

I'm still a bit tired, but I pull myself out of my bedroll and start up the fire again. The morning air is chilly and unpleasant, so I don't want the Shepherds to have to deal with it if they don't have to. As the fire chews on some logs, I go and feed the horses and pegasi (a few of them are still asleep, unsurprisingly. I gently nudge them awake, but don't push too hard if they insist on ignoring me), and then take Morgan's cloak out from her tent along with needle and thread to repair the rips.

I work on her coat for about an hour before the first Shepherd, Laurent, pokes his head out of his tent, and I take that as my cue to start making breakfast. I finish up the rip I was working on, and start fetching pots and meat. Dinner was light to avoid upsetting stressed stomachs, so breakfast is going to be more substantial.

Laurent, altruistic as he is, immediately moves to help. With his help, breakfast doesn't take all that long to make. I'm not sure if it's the smell of food, the noise, or coincidence that the majority of the Shepherds start to stumble out of their tents on sore legs when breakfast is approaching completion. With almost all the Shepherds out, I make the call to just wake everyone else up so they don't miss a warm breakfast.

Predictably, very few people appreciate me sticking my head into their tent and interrupting their rest, but they all come out to eat breakfast rather than stubbornly going back to sleep. No one wants a cold breakfast.

Laurent does most of the serving and I was one of the first to eat, so I spend most of breakfast repairing the rips left in Morgan's coat.

"Nathaaan, I'm cooold."

"Sit closer to the fire or wait, like, two minutes." I say. "I'm almost done."

Morgan does neither of those things. She hugs me from the back and buries her (cold) face in my neck, which is very uncomfortable I might add.

"Morgan, seriously, I can't work like this." I say. I tug my arms free of her grip so I can keep working on the coat. "It won't take that long, I promise."

Her grip tightens even more. "No."

"Morgan…" I sigh.

"A lot of us got hurt and some of us almost died." She mumbles. "So let me, please?"

Well, I can't really say no to that. I finish the rest of the repairs in silence.

The other Shepherds aren't nearly as shaken as Morgan, and it occurs to me that she's quite possibly the only person here (aside from myself) who hasn't been in a war of some sort before. The first generation had the Ylisse-Plegia war, and the second generation lived through Grima's reign. Morgan did neither, or at least doesn't remember.

"Here you go." I say, finishing the last repair. I awkwardly swing it around my back so it settles onto Morgan, and she reluctantly removes her arms from around me to stick them through her sleeves. "Did you eat yet?"

"No…"

"It's good for you."

"I know."

"You should eat."

"I know."

"You also need a bath."

"I- what?" The pitch of her voice rises in confusion.

"You smell." I rephrase. "Morgan, you were fighting for seven hours. Did you think you wouldn't stink of sweat and dirt?"

I can imagine her pout even though I can't see it. "Gee, thanks. Flatterer."

"I aim to please." I say sarcastically. "Seriously though, you might feel better when you aren't covered in dirt."

"Probably." Morgan grumbles. "But you could have been nicer about it."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, my amazing and annoyingly tall girlfriend, might you consider taking a bath for thine own health?"

"That's even worse somehow."

"You're welcome."

"And annoyingly tall? Really?"

"You're a head and a half taller than me! It's ridiculous!" I huff.

"A head and a half? I'm only a head taller Nathan."

"No."

"Yes."

"Fine, I'll prove it." I say. I stand up, as does she, and I pull her into a hug to show that my head slots in just under her chin. "See?"

"Yeah, I'm right." She says. Her chin taps the top of my head. "One head."

"That's a head and a half!" I protest, and pull away.

"I have no idea where you're measuring from, but that's one head Nathan." Morgan repeats.

"You measure from forehead to chin!" I say. "One and a half."

Morgan snorts. "Nathan, no one measures height like that."

"I do!"

"Well you're weird then. You're supposed to measure from the top of your head to your chin, not your forehead."

"You're still weirdly tall." I grumble. "You're taller than your parents! That's not supposed to happen."

"Suuure."

"No, really. The best indicator of a kid's potential height is their parents' height." I explain. "You are weirdly tall."

"That's because I'm amazing." Morgan says. Her smile is tired, and I realize I've chosen a bad time to slip into our usual routine. She was in her first proper military battle yesterday, after all.

"Anyhow." I say. "Eat and clean yourself up. I'll still be here when you're done after all."

"I don't wanna." Morgan complains. "I ache Nathan."

"You can ache and be clean at the same time." I say. "And I'll give you a massage when you're done."

"Fine…"

"Do you need me to help you?"

"No Mom, I'm capable of washing myself." Morgan huffs. "I said I ached, not that I was paralyzed."

"Just making sure…"

"I'm sort of annoyed that I know you're telling the truth." Morgan says. "That was a prime opportunity for a lewd suggestion and you wasted it!"

"Terrible timing though." I say. "Now go eat before the food gets cold."

"There's never a bad time for a lewd joke."

"I disagree. Now stop stalling and eat." I say, and nudge her towards the table.

"But…"

"But what?" I ask, feeling a bit exasperated by this point.

"But my stomach hurts." Morgan mumbles. "I don't want to eat."

"That's just stress, Morgan." I say. "That happens to me literally all the time."

"It does?"

"Yeah."

"But you never mention it."

"Well yeah, I'm used to it. It would be annoying if I mentioned it every other day when we were at sea or when we were training, so I simply didn't." I shrug. "Either way, trust me when I say that you should still eat something."

"Okay…."

Now that I don't have to bother Morgan into taking care of herself, I go bother the other future kids who are being stubborn. Severa is griping about losing beauty sleep and how she isn't all that hungry, so I start with her.

After I've successfully annoyed all the future kids into eating breakfast (with some help from Laurent) and Morgan leaves to bathe, I locate Robin and Chrom.

"Robin, Chrom." I say upon finding the two. They're just finishing up their meal. I ignore the pointed look Maribelle gives me, probably because I'm ignoring their titles. "Are we remaining here for the day?"

"We are." Chrom nods. "For a week at least. The Mila tree is acting as a staging ground for allied forces, and all our troops are yet to arrive."

"Alright, I'm going to bother a runner to send a request to the other quartermasters for supplies then. We're running low on a bunch of stuff after yesterday, seeing as we volunteered our supplies to help." I say. "Is there anything specific we need right this minute?"

"Not that I can think of." Robin says.

"Okay." I nod. "I'm off then. If Morgan asks before I'm back, tell her I shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Got it."

"Oh, and if you're going to see Say'ri today… make sure she's actually eaten something. She was being stubborn yesterday."

"So I heard." Chrom smiles.

"We'd thank you not to try and cause a diplomatic incident next time." Maribelle interjects.

"Then Say'ri better eat her food next time." I say stubbornly.

Maribelle clearly doesn't approve, but Chrom does. Robin just has an eyebrow raised and offers no comment.

With that established, I search for a runner as quickly as possible. I search for a Rosannite one, hoping that there won't be a language barrier, but alas the Rosannites speak French and not English so I have to find someone bilingual again. The Rosannite runner seems confused about this weird Ylissian guy asking for supplies, but he listens and runs off to deliver my message when I'm done.

That was all I was planning to do before getting back to Morgan, but as I'm returning I notice something suspicious. There's a soldier watching our camp- that's not suspicious in itself, admittedly- but not in the usual way. I mean… the Shepherds are a bit of a curiosity. We're an unusual sight. It's expected that people might stop and look, but I think I can be justifiably suspicious of someone standing near a cart with papers in hand pretending to take inventory while clearly watching our camp out of the corner of their eyes… especially because I can tell the cart only has hay bales and shouldn't take more than five seconds to count.

They haven't noticed me, because I'm behind them. I debate internally if I should confront them, or alert Robin first.

I err on the side of caution and (quietly) tell Robin. The tactician nods, making a point of not looking in the direction I indicated so as to not give away that we've noticed. "It could just be a curious soldier, Nathan."

"Or it could be a spy. Excellus knows to look out for us."

"That too." Robin admits after a moment of thought. "But let's not assume the worst."

"If you assume the worst you're never disappointed."

"Maybe, but what can we do? We can hardly interrogate a random soldier not in our army." Robin reminds me.

A good point. I hadn't considered that.

"We'll keep an eye out, and maybe organize guard shifts for the night, but for now don't do anything." Robin says with finality.

"Alright."

"Good. Now go keep Morgan occupied. I need her when I'm done talking with the allied council, but before then, don't let her dwell over yesterday's tactics."

Well that's an odd request. There's a story there. I'm going to bet Morgan messed something up. "Can do."

"And Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the food."

Uh, okay? "No problem."

I make my way over to where Morgan is impatiently waiting next to the fire, and as soon as she sees me she whines "Nathaaan! You said you'd be here when I got back, and you weren't! I had to wait a whole thirty seconds!"

"Tragic." I smile. "I torture you so."

"Just terrible." Morgan agrees. She still looks tired, but at least she's not dirty anymore. "I hope you weren't planning on going back on the massage offer too!"

"Of course not. I'm not that cruel." I hum.

"Good." Morgan says. "Because I'm still tired and a massage might just put me to sleep, which honestly sounds great right now."

"I hope you can fall asleep with all the noise."

"You know I can Nathan. You're the one who usually has trouble sleeping, not me."

True. She can sleep through just about everything, including nearly rolling into a fire. Hmm… I haven't used that joke in a while, I should use it again at some point.

Morgan does not end up falling asleep, but that's fine with me. I'm always happy for her company. Keeping her distracted is also quite easy. Privilege of being the boyfriend I suppose.

I could write a battle… or I could write about Nathan annoying someone powerful into eating their dinner, and then playing the cook for a bit. You'll actually hear about the battle a bit more next chapter. You're getting a Morgan one next time.