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

Morgan.

"Give it to me!"

"No."

"Nathan!" I growl, trying to pull my tactics notebook from his hands. "Gimmie!"

"No." He repeats, holding it over his head like I'm not taller than him and couldn't reach it if I really wanted to. We're both sitting down. I could just stand up. "Robin told me not to."

"You'd listen to your girlfriend's father over said girlfriend? Rude! Horrible even!"

"Considering how often you pull the 'girlfriend' card, it's really lost its gravitas." He says. "You can have your notebook when Robin gets back. I'm supposed to be distracting you."

"If you want to distract me, telling me that you're distracting me is a terrible way to do it."

"Well yeah, but I hate lying, so…"

I grumble under my breath and stop trying to reach for the notebook. It's not like I was trying very hard to get it in the first place. I just got all the stress out of my muscles (courtesy of Nathan) and I don't really need to tense them back up going over what I did wrong yesterday just yet. "Fine."

It's easy to say I won't think about yesterday, but actually doing that is hard. It's not a simple thing to forget that I sent Kellam, alone, to handle two great knights. I mean, sure everyone else was busy, but there had to have been something I could have done, someone I could have pulled away for just a second, or-

"Pay attention to me." Nathan says, nudging my cheek with his nose.

"That's my line."

"I know, but I'm using it." He says, and kisses my ear. "Because you're thinking too much."

It's very hard to brood when someone is nibbling on your ear, so paying attention to Nathan is an easy 'choice' to make.

The fact that I used to do this for him back when he was still freaking out about being stuck in a different dimension is not lost upon me. That was so long ago… and by that I mean it was a few years. Gods, it's only been a few years.

"Morgan…"

"Sorry, don't worry, I wasn't thinking about that." I say, and lean into his nuzzles. "I was just thinking that this is the total opposite of what we usually do."

"What do you mean? This is normal." Nathan murmurs. "I've been watching after you for months."

That's true. Ever since we got on the boat and I started to obsess over tactics, he's been trying to make sure I don't forget to eat and all that. Still… "The normal I remember is you singing as we walk along the road, and me sitting in your lap around a campfire."

"Yeah." He murmurs. "Miss that, do you?"

"Just a little. It's better than being at war. I've been in one battle, and I hate it."

"Well good. If you liked war, I'd be worried." Nathan hums.

"It's hard to believe just a few months ago I was in Ylisstol, pushing you up against a wall somewhere in the castle."

His face goes a bit red. "Uh, yeah, well… that was a good 'normal' as well."

"Yeah, the next normal for me was you not being there though. That sucked. I mean, I got used to it, and it probably wasn't all that bad, but I'm going to say it sucked anyways so I sound extra faithful."

"You mean extra clingy." Nathan teases, as if I don't know he was relieved that I still wanted him after he woke up.

"Same thing." I say dismissively. "And then you came back, and you were smaller than me, and cute. Sooo cute."

Nathan sighs deeply, if only to cover up that I'm embarrassing him.

"I'll admit, I kinda liked carrying you around for the first few weeks." I tease.

"I'm surprised your arms didn't get tired honestly." Nathan says.

"They did." I say. "But it wasn't too bad. You were pretty light, and I'd kept up my training well enough, so I never ended up with aches."

"Huh."

"But that makes the next normal. The castle." I say. "I guess that didn't really last all that long though, did it?"

"Yeah." How long did that last? Was it a month? Two? A lot less than the rest. "We can barely call it normal actually."

"It feels normal though, doesn't it?"

"It feels like how things should be." I say. "None of me needing to spend hours focusing on tactics, none of you dragging me out of my room to train or getting me food. I should be doing tactics stuff in the day, and you making games, and then I could come home we'd both have free time to do stuff, and then on the weekends we would have a free day to watch a play or have a day on the town or something."

"That sounds nice." Nathan agrees, smiling softly at me.

I'll never admit it out loud, but I sometimes feel like I don't know what I should be doing whenever Nathan is sappy like that, even if it's just a smile. Our whole relationship is based on constant jokes and banter after all. When we have honest discussions it's alway serious, but in a casual scenario I don't know if I should joke, respond in kind, or something else entirely. "Doesn't it? It's a plan for after the war at least."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Please do."

The conversation eventually shifts away from the war (I think Nathan remembered that he's supposed to be distracting me), and this time I let it happen without a fight.

###

When Father fetches me, I follow him silently. Entering the command, I can see maps, figurines, and fresh paper and ink ready on both sides of a large table, along with two large lanterns with fresh candles in each. Clearly Father is prepared for this to take a long time, and considering what we're going to be doing, I'd be surprised if it didn't.

We'll see what happens first: the candles run out, or Nathan and/or Chrom and/or Frederick come to kick us out of the tent to our beds.

"You brought your notes?" Father says.

"Of course." I say, brandishing my notebook. I would have liked to have been able to look through it beforehand, but you already know what happened there.

"Good. Did you have a chance to write anything down since yesterday?"

"No. Nathan wouldn't let me."

"Good." Father says. "So let's go over that now."

Father adjusts the figurines on the table, making very clear battle lines that I recognize at a glance. The little group of blue figures, us shepherds, are coming around the side of two lines of red and green fighters respectively.

That's how the battle started. We came around the side of the main battle lines and hit from the side. We stood at a distance at first, not wanting to get stuck in the thick of the battle. That plan didn't last long though. We didn't count on a squad of Valmese paladins having the same idea to flank as us, but that's for later.

"Broad strokes, what are the most important things that happened yesterday?" Father asks.

"We got outflanked."

"Broader." Father prompts. "Not specific instances."

I frown and think. "We got surprised way too often. Even when we were on the outsides of the battle with a good view, we missed vital information all the time."

"Good." Father nods. "What else?"

"We got thrashed by any concentrated attack." I say. "We could deal with infantry, but basically nothing else if they were in large enough groups."

"True." Father says. "What else?"

"We really shouldn't be in big battles."

"Yes." Father agrees, and finally sits in his seat and gestures for me to do the same. "That was our first and biggest mistake."

I take my seat and whip out my quill and ink the tip. It's going to be one of those analyses, isn't it? The one where we tear apart every little action one side makes… that side being ours this time. "Where do we start then?"

"First, I should clarify something." Father says. He points at me. "You didn't do anything particularly wrong."

"Father, I love you, but that's bullshit."

Father blinks. It occurs to me that 'bullshit' isn't actually a term you hear thrown around all that much… because it's an Earth thing. Goddammit Nathan.

No one says 'goddammit' either. It would be 'gods damn it' or something like that.

"I'm serious Morgan." Father insists. "I know you think you messed up, and you did, but that's what it means to be a tactician in war. We have to learn like any other profession, and learning means making mistakes… and our job just so happens to involve life or death circumstances."

"That makes my mistakes all the more inexcusable."

"Morgan, no one can avoid mistakes." Father says.

That doesn't sit right with me. "But-"

Father cuts me off before I can say more. "You can ask nearly anyone else. Ask Nathan, ask Chrom, ask the person who hates you the most in the Shepherds. They'll say the same thing as me."

I hate that I know he's telling the truth. Nathan and Chrom would absolutely agree with Father, because both of them are far too forgiving and understanding, but I could even see the theoretical person who hates me the most in the Shepherds (Kjelle maybe? I have no idea really. I can't think of a Shepherd who properly hates me) agreeing because for better or for worse all the Shepherds tend to be good, nice people when you really get down to it. Even Tharja maybe.

"I nearly got Kellam killed."

"You did." Father agrees.

"I nearly got all of us killed."

"You did." He agrees again. "And guess what?"

"What?"

"I've done the exact same many times." Father says. "Remind me to tell you about how I nearly got Lissa killed multiple times before I learned how to position healers in skirmishes when you don't can't leave soldiers behind to protect them, or how I unintentionally sent Sumia on a sucide mission as soon as the war started before I learned how to properly use pegasus knights."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was." Father grimaces. "You can ask Lissa. She has a permanent scar and muscle damage on the back of her neck because of my mistakes."

I'm definitely asking about that later.

"So again, yes, you made mistakes and almost got people killed. Yes, it's entirely your fault and your responsibility. Yes, you should make sure it never happens again. But yes, you shouldn't, can't, dwell on it, or it will ruin your life." Father says, emphasizing every instance of the word 'yes' with a firm, consistent inflection and small nod of his head. "Tear the situation apart and analyze it down to the smallest detail- that's what we're going to be doing now- but you cannot dwell. This is war, we're responsible for lives, and we're unfortunately human. Mistakes will inevitably happen and you can't afford to dwell on them, as callous as that may sound."

I listen silently, one of my hands grabbing my other at the wrist at the edge of the table, my quill held tightly in that other hand.

"I'll leave it at that, though." Father says. "I doubt you fully believe me, and I know enough that you won't fully work through it before mulling it over for a few hours, Nathan optional but probably involved, knowing both of you."

Yeah, that's accurate.

"But for now, look at the battle intellectually and professionally. We have a job to do." Father says. "Alright?"

"Alright." I say. I can do professional, even if I don't agree with some of what he's just said. Figuring out what I should think and feel is what I do in my tent, Nathan optional but probably involved, as Father so accurately put it. "Where do we start?"

"Let's start with those broad strokes you mentioned, because you missed a few." Father says. He scribbles down a heading in his notes, and I do the same. "Our poor use of terrain, for one, and issues with controlling airspace."

I nod, quickly writing those down.

I could go over every little detail we discussed, but it doesn't really matter. The afternoon and evening is a blur of conversation, writing, moving figurines, and arguments over where exactly we should put Frederick in relation to Maribelle and how those archers to the north factored into it, also keeping in mind the wyvern knight circling above us, and-

You get the point.

Eventually someone- Chrom first, who encourages us to sleep but doesn't command, and then Nathan, who is more firm- kicks us out of the command tent and back to our beds. We're only halfway through the battle, and not even halfway through a complete analysis, but some weirdos don't think spending a full night discussing tactics is a good way to spend our time.

I know, crazy.

###

Nathan nudges me awake at breakfast, ignoring my grumblings, so I can eat food while it's warm rather than lukewarm from me sleeping in.

"Come on dear." Nathan murmurs, lugging me into a sitting position in my bedroll. He throws my shirt and pants at me, and carefully shakes dirt out of my coat from where I threw it on the floor last night. "Get up."

I grumble and gripe, and slowly get into my clothes. Nathan all but drags my tired self outside to sit on a log while he grabs bowls of soup for us (it's just about the only thing Sully can make without poisoning people). Father is sitting on another log with his own bowl, looking more tired than me, and with no one sitting next to him.

It occurs, somewhere in the back of my mind, that Father's constant work can't be doing any favors for him trying to get along with Mother. Mother won't be waking Father up in the morning so he can eat warm food like Nathan does for me,because I 'got' Nathan well before I devolved into this constant study. Father is alone… or maybe Chrom wakes him up. That seems like something Chrom would do. Chrom's nice. He's never too busy for his friends, somehow.

Magic. It has to be magic.

"Are you going to be busy today?" Nathan asks. He finishes his food before me, and now has a brush in his hand (the one he got me a looong time ago as a joke, back when we were travelling Ferox) and is trying to detangle my hair. It's completely unnecessary, I could just use a spell, but I let him do it anyways. Even when he tugs my hair a bit painfully (by accident), I'm not about to reject the gesture.

"Dunno, we didn't talk about it." I say. Warm soup pools in my stomach, waking me up more than the cold morning air or the walk from tent to log. "Probably. We didn't half finish our work."

"Did you have dinner last night?" He asks.

"Uh… I don't remember." I squint. "Maybe? Probably not?"

"Morgan…" He says softly, in admonishment.

"I knooow." I mutter. Please stop sounding so disappointed, you're making me feel bad. "Sorry."

"Take better care of yourself."

"I'll try."

"At least remember to eat, Morgan."

"I will." Well fuck, I've made a promise now. I'll have to figure out how to remember dinner.

"Good."

Nathan has to leave soon after breakfast to deal with chores. He kisses my forehead, murmurs something sweet that I only half hear, and moves off to do his work.

With my own soup done soon after, I move over to Father and drop onto the log next to him. He nods to me, and slowly sips at his half-full bowl of cool soup.

"Are we going to work more today?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

"I don't think Chrom will let us." Father says. "I think we need to have a more in-depth meeting with the allied leaders anyhow. We talked about the battle yesterday, we need to talk about current and future movements today."

"Ah."

"You should come." He says, to my surprise. "If I'm Chrom's second-in-command, you're basically a top general in terms of importance. If neither me nor him nor Maribelle can lead, it falls to you and Lucina. As strange as it might be considering both of you are still kids, you are the next level in the chain of command."

"Father, I'm twenty."

"Gods you're twenty…" Father groans, rubbing his face. "I feel so old."

"You're not even thirty."

"And yet I have a twenty year old daughter." He says. "A daughter who is nearly as talented as me."

"Well-"

"My daughter is nearly married, oh gods…" He says, and tilts back his head to stare at the sky. "You're going to get married before me."

"I'm pretty sure that will just be a formality." I say. Seeing as how me and Nathan's lives are so tightly entangled already, I have a feeling marriage really will be just a ceremony and nothing more when it eventually happens. "I can wait until you woo Mother if you want to feel less old."

Father makes a face. "You saying that makes it even worse."

He abruptly gulps down the rest of his soup and stands up, and I follow him up.

"The meeting should be soon. I'm sure Virion will send someone, but I'd prefer to arrive early to a meeting for once." He says while brushing off his coat. "Are you coming?"

"Yes." I say instantly. Then, I ask: "How long will it take?"

"However long it needs to."

"Okay. I promised Nathan I'd actually have dinner today though, so fair warning."

Father's face sports a wry smile. "You'll be in good company with Chrom, Tiki, and Cherche then. Come on."

We exit the camp at a leisurely stroll. My eyes are quickly drawn to all the people who quickly turn their heads away from us or the camp.

"We have spectators." I note quietly.

"We do." Father says. "Are you about to warn me about spies too?"

"No…" I say slowly. "But I was considering it."

"Nathan thought someone was watching us more unusually than the others." Father says in a tone that sounds… not quite mocking, but exasperated. "I know he hasn't been with us long, but people watching us happens all the time. We're notable individuals. That's just our life."

"All the more reason to suspect spies." I say. "We're important, so of course we'd be spied upon."

Father rolls his eyes. "You two are exactly the same sometimes."

"Excellus is basically a spy Father." I remind him. "You really think he wouldn't spy on us? We know he extorted Yen'fay's loyalty in other timelines, you think he wouldn't get information from us? Poison us? Kidnap someone?"

Father purses his lips. "Maybe? I'll admit, I'm not well versed in the espionage side of things. I think I'll need to find someone who knows more."

"Do so quickly then, or I can." I offer. "I'm sure Gaius can tell me something, and I can badger Virion and Say'ri into teaching me something."

"I'll do it." Father says quickly, and I smirk. Sometimes I forget I'm a menace in most people's eyes.

"I promise not to antagonize them."

"I'll do it." Father repeats insistently.

I hold up my hands innocently. "Alright."

We pick our way through the roots of the Mila tree to the long staircase, passing by various important looking big tents with flags on them, important people dressed in unnecessarily ostentatious outfits for a battlefield (thinks the girl in an unnecessarily fancy gold-accented longcoat). I mostly hear Chon'sinese, though there is a bit of Roseanne's language (Roseannite? Roseannese? Roseannian? Nathan calls it "French', but that's hardly applicable here, just like Arcanean being called "English" isn't applicable except in the context of Nathan specifically) to be heard.

Something completely arbitrary crosses my mind as I hear Chon'sinese spoken around me. A little tidbit of information that suddenly seems relevant. "Where's Yen'fay?"

"Defending the northern entrance to Chon'sin." Father says. I take a moment to remember the map of Valentia, and vaguely recall a spot at the very north of the continent where the river- lake?- squeezes to not quite let Chon'sin and Valm touch.

"Is there a bridge there?" I ask.

"No. But the river is just narrow enough that you could make a bridge across, or rafts or crude boats, in a relatively small amount of time." Father says. "I don't have all the details on the situation though."

Hmm, interesting. "Isn't Yen'fay the leader of Chon'sin?"

"He is." Robin nods.

"Shouldn't he be here instead?"

"Probably." Robin nods. "But, he and Say'ri received a certain letter warning that Say'ri would be used against him, later corroborated by Virion, and they took this as a warning about a potential kidnapping, and so decided Say'ri would take command of the position more heavily fortified and with numerous powerful allies, rather than the relatively less dangerous but therefore less defended location up north."

"So basically, the bulk of the army is here, so Say'ri is here?"

"I'm fairly sure it has more to do with Tiki and Virion being here, as well as us Shepherds." Robin says. "People trustworthy to Tiki, verified by Naga, identified by Nathan's letter, rather than loyal but potentially exploitable or buyable soldiers and generals."

Interesting. I'm not sure if Nathan would be relieved or terrified that his letter had this much influence. Probably both, knowing him. Actually, probably more the latter than the former. He really doesn't like having a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.

The walk up the Mila Tree is unnecessarily long. Like, really, why couldn't we do this at the roots? Is it just that important for us to look all impressive on the top of a huge tree for the sake of… who? Ourselves? The Soldiers? Naga? Whatever. Holding this meeting, any meeting, at the top of the Mila Tree is a stupid idea.

I wish I was a manakete so I could just fly to the top. I bet Tiki just flies to the top, if she ever comes down in the first place.

Hmm… I wonder if she'll give me a ride down after the meeting.

The top of the tree is surprisingly barren, and unusually flat. There's a small building in the middle of the tree with a single room that looks like a shrine where I can see a bed and shelf through an open door. A large, round table and numerous chairs have been set up on the far side of the tree. Beyond that, there's nothing but flat wood, leaves, and sunlight.

There's also a lady with green hair, a red dress, and pointy ears sitting at the table with a cup of tea in hand. That has to be Tiki. I'll be honest, I expected an important religious figure to dress more modestly, but I'm not going to complain. A nice lady in a nice dress? Yes please!

I think Father can hear my thoughts, since he makes sure to call out to Tiki before I can. "Lady Tiki!"

"Greetings, Robin." The lady says, calmly setting down the tea. Her eyes quickly find mind. "And you… are Morgan, yes?"

"That's me! The soon-to-be best tactician ever!" I say, and give an unnecessarily fancy bow. "I'm glad to hear my reputation precedes me! As it should!"

Tiki's mouth turns up in a smile. "I can see what you meant about her being colorful, Robin."

Father sighs deeply. "I'll count myself lucky if she behaves the entire time."

"Why Father, it almost sounds like you don't have any faith in me!" I gasp, putting a sarcastically offended hand to my breast. "I always behave!"

Father fixes me with a flat, disbelieving look.

"Okay, fine, I'm capable of behaving." I amend.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Father mutters under his breath.

"Can I at least sit next to the hot dragon lady?" I say, not bothering to keep my voice down.

Father throws his hands up in the air and Tiki laughs. It's Tiki who answers first. "You're more than welcome to, so long as Say'ri does not object."

"Yaaay!"

I can feel Father rolling his eyes at me, and I relish in it.

I don't have much time to talk with Tiki before other people start to arrive. Say'ri is first, and she spares me no more than a glance before sitting on the opposite side as Tiki. I take that as approval. Chrom and Maribelle are next. Maribelle raises an eyebrow at me being here, but doesn't comment otherwise. Chrom, on the other hand, says: "Ah, we should really bring Lucina next time, shouldn't we? She might have some valuable insight with her knowledge."

"Perhaps." Father says. "I brought Morgan because she's next in command, knows strategy and tactics nearly as well as me, and can bring up any future knowledge that might be relevant."

So I'm here because it's assumed I know most of what Nathan knows better than everyone else here? Rude. I mean, Father's not wrong, but rude. He could have just brought Nathan… except Nathan would hate being here. The pressure would absolutely give him acute anxiety.

Nevermind, I was a good choice.

"The council is already half Shepherds, I suppose an even more overwhelming majority is an irrelevant point then." Say'ri remarks dryly.

"You know we mean no ill. If you don't want her here, she'll leave." Father soothes. "Besides, we represent a very small faction in this war. Consider us advisors. You and Virion are the ones with land and lives on the line, and the final say for major actions. Us Shepherds simply happen to have the benefit of various forms of future knowledge."

"You're more than welcome to bring in your own generals, Say'ri." Chrom says. "We've suggested as much before."

"And I've informed you before that I am not keen to have my authority undermined." Say'ri retorts firmly. "My generals can listen to my words after I have made a decision."

What an interesting thing to say. Are the generals untrustworthy? Are there political machinations at play? Is Say'ri not seen as a strong leader for some reason? Is it simply ego on Say'ri's part? Very curious.

"As they very well should, being the bright, dazzling woman you are!" Virion says as he sweeps over to the table. Somehow none of us heard the wyvern landing across the tree from us. Lucky bastard got a ride up here. I presume the woman with the salmon-colored hair talking to the wyvern is Cherche. Virion bows with unnecessary flare (really it's an unnecessary bow in the first place) to us, and addresses Say'ri again. "You look dazzling as always, Princess Say'ri."

"Duke Virion." Say'ri says with a flat, unimpressed tone. "You're late."

"Only fashionably so!" Virion says, and brandishes a nice bottle of wine from behind his back. "This is not for now, of course. Work must be done. Later, however, I'd be more than happy to treat you all to this fine Roseannite wine to, ah, relax after such stressful discussions."

"If you must." Say'ri says, her voice dry.

Tiki watches this all with a small, but genuine smile. On impulse, I lean in and whisper. "Is the wine any good?"

"As good as rotten berry juice can be." She whispers back. "I've never enjoyed the taste, but after years spent in a position such as mine I've gotten quite used to it."

As quiet as we might have been, there are very few people in the room and few other noises, so it's unsurprising that we were heard.

"Lady Morgan!" Virion cries. He leans over the table to take my hand, and kisses it in the perfect picture of ridiculous nobility while wearing a wide smile. For a moment I feel like I'm at a party on business for Duke Crius again, except Virion's smile is much more genuine than people I usually meet at parties. "It has been too long! How have you been? You've grown into quite the beauty I see! Lucky for your father that you already have a partner or else he'd have many suitors to fend off!"

"I'm quite capable of stabbing- I mean fending off suitors myself." I say. "A shame none of them would meet my very lofty standards even if I didn't have Nathan."

"Oh? And what standards would those be?"

"Playing chess."

It's a stupid answer, because of course that's not one of my standards, but it makes Virion bark a laugh. "A limited pool indeed! I'm glad to hear I would be one of the only viable suitors in the world!"

"Duke Virion." Cherche says. Her voice is calm and she has a smile on her face, but I can see exasperation in her eyes and the tension in her arms. "Perhaps it would be best to go to business and not flirt with the daughter of another council member?"

"Perhaps, but it would be far less pleasant." Virion sighs. He clasps one of my hands between his. "Truly though, it would please me to play a game of chess with you. As much as it has intrigued other Roseannite nobles, I think you'll be far more my skill level than they, and it is too fascinating a game to go unplayed for boredom."

I forgot Nathan gave him a chess set. I have a vague feeling the game is going to be as popular here as it was in his world. "It's a date." I say with a wink, causing Cherche and Father to sigh and Virion to brighten with a smile.

"And now…" Tiki says quietly, getting everyone's attention. "To business, if you please."

"Yes, of course." Virion says, immediately dropping his jovial attitude. He pulls out a handful of papers from a pocket in his vest. "I have the latest reports from my scouts, and they bring worrying news."

"And I the latest from my brother." Say'ri says, brandishing papers of her own. "I'm afraid my news bodes ill as well."

They're not wrong. Say'ri reports a massing of Valmese troops at the northern crossing, and Virion a suspicious lack of them in the surrounding area, especially considering the number of troops we faced a mere two days ago.

"That's not the only problem, however." Virion says. "Our scouts also report Risen activity."

"Risen? In Valentia?" Chrom asks. "I thought they didn't appear here?"

"They do, though in much fewer numbers than in Archanea." Virion says. "That is exactly why my scouts brought it to my attention: Risen numbers are unusually high, more so than we'd expect from merely the occasional dead soldier rising again. Less than one in four hundred of the dead usually become Risen in Valentia, yet the scouts report entire battalions of them occupying where the Valmese camps once were."

"Someone intentionally summoned them." Father says. "We know it's possible, Aversa did so before."

"Indeed, I recall the moment quite vividly." Virion nods. "So we must reckon with a skilled sorcerer on Valm's side."

"Not just any sorcerer. To summon that many Risen would require many sorcerers, or a single man of absurd power." Robin says.

"Excellus?" I offer, though my voice is unsure. I don't know Excellus' exact level of power, so this really is a question more than an assertion.

"Excellus is known for being a competent mage, though he has never overtly dabbled in dark magic." Say'ri says. "However I would not put it past such a snake to know such spells."

"I do not think we can come to a definite answer as to who may be responsible as of yet. Instead, we must simply keep in mind that Valm is now capable of such things." Virion says.

"Agreed." Say'ri says. "The movement of their troops is worrisome. My brother is expecting an attack, and I'm sure you expect that Valm's army has moved to the west to threaten Roseanne."

"Yet a two front war seems quite risky for Valm." Virion muses. "Bad enough to have one front up north and another at the Mila tree, attacking into Roseanne would push that second front even further south and leave an easy opening for our army."

"Not with the Risen in our way." Robin says. "And not if Valm could conceivably shut off our supply line if we crossed the narrow path from the Mila tree to Valm, either with their own troops or more Risen."

"Like all the stockpiled dead surrounding us right now." Tiki says quietly. "I suspect, if we are to attempt a march, we will find an army of Risen at our backs."

"We do not know that for certain." Chrom says, but even he sounds like he doesn't believe what he's saying.

"We must assume it is certain." Say'ri says firmly. "For if we are not prepared for the eventuality, we may be punished quite harshly."

Everyone nods in agreement. I do the same, but frown through it. "Couldn't we just burn the bodies or something to stop Risen from rising? You can't summon a Risen without a corpse, after all."

"We could." Say'ri nods. "If we want our army to revolt against us for disrespecting our fallen comrades."

Ah, I should have known. Culture always gets in the way.

Gods I sound like Nathan sometimes. I'm inheriting his fixation on culture, religion, and random social issues. Save me.

"Otherwise, that would be a solid idea." Say'ri admits. "Conceivably we might be able to justify burning Valmeses bodies, though that will do little to endear us to the Valmese populace, which might fuel hatred against us and bolster recruitment to the Valmese army should word spread."

Well that sucks. Nothing can be simple apparently.

The conversation effectively stalls from there as various ideas are thrown around and none are agreed upon. Can the Risen be cleared safely? Who would do it? To what end? Where should the army go? Should it split? How quickly can the army be ready to go? Are we leaving the Mila Tree undefended?

There's only so much I can offer because I don't have all the information I need to make informed decisions. I don't know about all of Chon'sin and Roseanne's troop movements for one, and I don't have an extremely detailed mental map of the terrain and exact details of key locations in Valentia.

So instead I take notes. No one bats an eye when I pull out my notebook and start writing things down. Cherche is doing much the same, actually. If nothing else, I can keep the minutes of the meeting in some loose sense for future reference, as well as notes about key locations everyone else discusses. If I don't have the knowledge myself, I should be recording what I hear from others.

For the rest of the meeting I say very little, and listen a lot. The only time I speak is when my- well Nathan's- future knowledge is called upon, which is rare as we've thoroughly deviated from what the game would expect by this point.

Mostly I'm struck by the fact that I'm useless here. All I've done so far is ask questions that everyone else already knew the answer to. I'm a genius… compared to everyone I usually hang around. Not so much when dealing with the rulers and Father.

I don't like being the stupid one.

Discussion continues well into the afternoon, and still no decision has been made. The fundamental issue is that Say'ri wants to go on the offensive, to the northwest, while Virion wants to go southwest to move the army to protect the entrance to Roseanne, and none of us have a good idea on how to deal with so many potential Risen at once.

For all their time clearing out Ylisse and time at war, the Shepherds never actually had to deal with a Risen hoard so large, and as such neither Father nor Chrom nor Maribelle have any firm idea on how the Risen should be dealt with. They have ideas and suggestions, but nothing they know will work.

Eventually the sun sinks low as I write. I'm prodded by the feeling that I should be doing something, and I recall quickly enough. As soon as there's a lull in the conversation I push out my seat and- when everyone looks at me questioningly- I cross my arms say "It's almost sundown, we either have dinner now or don't have any. I don't know about all of you, but I'll have Nathan breathing down my neck if I don't, so I'm getting dinner one way or another."

Out of everything I could have said, I don't think that's what they were expecting. Father raises an eyebrow, Maribelle sighs, and Chrom and Tiki smile. Say'ri looks exasperated, and Virion, after a moment, seems amused.

Cherche doesn't react. She does, however, set down her quill, stand up, and say "Well, I'm glad I wasn't the one who had to say it this time. Thankfully someone else has sense."

Judging by Virion's nervous laugh, I'd say he's done the same as me and Father and forgotten a few meals here and there… or Cherche was making a general jab at his supposed lack of sense.

Say'ri looks like she wants to protest, but Tiki rises just as Say'ri is opening her mouth and Say'ri promptly snaps her jaw shut.

"A small recess then." Tiki says. "To eat and clear our minds. I shall find us some food."

"Absolutely not!" Say'ri protests. "My lady, it is beneath you to act as an errand girl!"

Tiki and Say'ri devolve into the most polite argument I've seen in a while. Everyone else ignores them, and Cherche quickly announces that she, on account of having a wyvern, will order some food and return swiftly.

With the meeting temporarily suspended, people part into their respective groups (with Virion gravitating towards Chrom and Maribelle, seeing as Cherche is gone). Father spends a moment writing on a parchment in front of him, future questions he wants to ask to be exact, before turning to me.

"Did you learn a lot?" Father asks.

"I learned that armies are complicated and logistics are a bitch." I say bluntly.

A tired smile crawls onto Father's face. "You're not wrong."

"Also, I felt like I couldn't really say anything." I add. "The questions I did ask seemed… inane."

"Simple maybe, I wouldn't quite say inane." Father says. "But that's part of why I wanted you here, so you could learn what makes for a relevant question in situations like this, and just how impossible it can seem to make a good decision, much less one everyone will agree on."

"Because we both know either Say'ri or Virion is going to be unhappy no matter what we decide." I say.

Father nods.

I take a long moment to thoughtfully compose my words before saying the most profound thing I can at this moment: "This sucks."

"It really does." Father agrees. "I don't suppose you have any thoughts you didn't voice? You were unusually quiet after the first few hours."

"I still think we should burn the bodies."

"Aside from burning the bodies."

"Well unless we can find the sorcerers ahead of time, there's no other clean solution for the Risen I can think of right now." I say. "It's not as simple as just leaving our heavily armored troops in the back or front either, because there would probably be Risen mages."

Father nods along with what I say, silently encouraging me to keep talking.

"And I don't think it's going to be possible to find those sorcerers. They could be sitting in the field of Risen and we have no easy way to spot or get to them." I say, waving my arm vaguely to the west. "They just need to wait to see a whole army start to move before casting their spell, it's not like we can deceive them… can we? Could we use illusions?"

"If you don't mind devoting several dozen mage for at least two full days to cover an entire army moving." Father says.

Well, there goes that idea. "How did Valm get out so quickly? They were there one day and gone the next."

"Better training." Father says simply. "It's also a lot easier for them when they all speak the same language."

Yeah, good point. "Aside from that… I really don't know. There was too much talk about locations I don't know, big strategic stuff, and arguing about objectives. It's hard to make a plan without knowing your objective."

By objective, of course, I mean whether I should be thinking of a plan to attack through the Risen or how to cover our retreat. Either way means dealing with the Risen, but in vastly different ways.

"There's no simple way of dealing with all those Risen without a… I dunno, a nuke." I say, knowing full well that Father has no idea what a nuke is. "I get the feeling we have to deal with the sorcerers in one way or another if we want to avoid Risen rising under our feet. We need to kill them or trick them or something."

"But how?" Father asks softly, rhetorically. "And how do we know they're even there, and that the Risen aren't just a psychological tactic to make us think they could raise Risen behind us when we march when they don't actually have that much range on their spell?"

I resist the urge to wring my hands. "I don't know."

"None of us do, and that's the issue." Father says. "And unfortunately, if there's one issue we need solved right now, it's the matter of the sorcerers."

If they're even still around and not gone with the rest of the Valmese army. "Ugh…"

He pats me on the shoulder. "Welcome to what my life was like during the entire Plegian war."

Cherche soon returns to tell us that a meal will be sent up shortly. Virion decides this is a fine time to break out the wine, despite Say'ri's protests.

"Come now, we've been discussing for hours." Virion argues. "Do you truly think we'll make more progress in the one hour of daylight, if that, we have left?"

Say'ri clearly wants to say "yes", but knows full well that Virion is saying this meeting won't go past sunset, so she instead laces her fingers together on the table and remains silent. She does accept a glass of wine when passed to her.

I hesitate to accept mine. I haven't drank alcohol before, though that's largely because Nathan refuses to drink and I just copied him.

One glass, I decide, and no more. If I like it, maybe I'll try some more some other time, but I have no desire to get drunk right now.

The wine tastes… strange. There's simultaneously a lot of flavor, and yet barely any. I can taste a dozen different unique tastes, but they're all muted and hidden behind each other. Everything about this drink is subtle, and honestly it's more annoying than satisfying. It's like ordering steak and only getting to smell it instead of actually eat it.

Still, it's not awful. Not nearly as bad as I would have expected for rotten berry juice.

Dinner comes and goes without event. I talk at Father for some of it, and with Virion for the rest. Virion pointedly keeps the conversation off the war and our future plans. I get the impression he's talked way too much strategy over the last few months or years or however long he's been at this and is happy to talk Chess, or literally anything that isn't war, for a change.

I leave the tree (Tiki does give me a ride down, thank Naga. I can see why she's a holy figure, she saved me a fifteen minute walk) and make my way back to the our camp with Father.

I also know what I'm doing over the next few days. I'm finding out how to deal with the Risen.

Somehow.