You expected cooking class, didn't you?
*You hover over the back button in disappointment*
WAIT! THIS IS COOKING! COME BACK! *Blatant white lie is blatant*
*In a twist of events, you return just to humor a crazy person*
Adventures In Awkward Bonding Times
Chapter 3: "Drawing Out The Tortured Soul"
The tome fell on the random table that was still set up outside the Shepherd's camp for some reason, and Morgan inhaled as she deliberately circled it. She could have resembled a prison guard if her hands weren't trembling with excitement and she didn't smile like Cherche. That "I know all your secrets" smile.
Lucina didn't have any intention to break, and thought her composure was appropriate enough for someone who had recently been pulled out of their own tent and propped against a tree outside camp. She wasn't tied up, or anything like what was probably done to Inigo. If she wanted, she could have ran.
It was tempting to run, you best believe. Lucina could only imagine what chaotic sentences would spew out of Gerome's mouth, but Morgan had to endure it. Not even endure, really. Morgan was cheerful even in the face of death by risen claws, so a new level of horror desperately needed to be invented.
"What more do you need to know?" There. Lucina asked the question fast, get it out before any time could be wasted.
As soon as Lucina asked that question, she braced herself. She pressed her back to the tree, hands moving to her blade. It wasn't as though she expected some kind of horrible ending where all of the bonding plans were ruined by a non-tragic death, but…y'know.
Morgan inhaled again, probably just enjoying the scent of the wildflowers nearby. "Gerome can't use magic, but locked up a tome like it was all important. There must be a connection, and I assume you know it?"
Lucina removed one hand just to hold on the side of her face and look away, feeling guilty unnecessarily. She wasn't sure how to explain that she was both aware and not so much. The night didn't have much left, and they both really needed some sleep. Morgan just wasn't accepting defeat.
"Obviously, the tome either belongs to Father or me." Morgan cracked a smile, though she looked ready to from the beginning of her fail interrogation. "It doesn't even matter who it belonged to! Either way, this tome's going to make a quick path to Gerome's heart! Don't make me wait any longer! I MUST prepare the hug method I'll use-"
"Only Gerome himself can tell you the answer!"
Morgan gasped, just because you can't be interrupted in this life and have it be dramatic if that's not the case. When there was a moment of silence, she cringed all the way back to the table under Lucina's piercing gaze.
"That's… That's so typical." Morgan breathed heavily like she'd just been punched in the stomach. "Of course I'll have to wrestle Gerome for the truth. I should have expected that the only person outside the family who loves him so much would know him so deeply. I'm respecting you so much right now."
"We really don't need to bring respect in the situation! Please hear me out!" Lucina didn't know what came over her, but the thought was appalling enough to make her shout and wave her arms in front of her insanely.
"Well, I guess I'll work hard to ensure my next bonding tactic makes Gerome tell me the tome's origins." Morgan rambled, spontaneously recovered from her respect and smiling from one ear to the other. "I was going to do this particular tactic on a cold day, but I don't have time to wait. When you join us tomorrow, you'll see what I mean."
"Morgan, I do want to see your family put back together- Hold on… I'm involved?"
"I can't imagine a better person in the role I've set up! It's very important for the younger sibling to be supportive and charitable to the older one's lover, and all that stuff!"
Lucina could feel her eye twitching, and she didn't know how long it would be before she ran off to her father, not giving any context before begging him to have a long talk with Robin about reeling his daughter in. Although Lucina wanted to have faith in Robin – since Chrom did have rely on him a lot more than a leader should and "all that stuff" – she couldn't imagine what level of crazy she would descend to before it was too late to catch herself. They had questionable people in the army, not naming anyone except one particular family of two morally questionable mages and daughter. Again, not to call anyone out.
It had to be repeated that Lucina had every opportunity to ESCAPE. She could have ran away, she'd already proven herself capable of that the other day when she unfortunately failed to give Gerome the amount of information he needed.
"But you won't run away this time." Lucina's thoughts kept repeating, thankfully blocking out Morgan's rambling in the process. "Even if the attempts aren't as gentle as they need to be, Gerome must learn to accept his parents no matter what timeline they come from. Of course, there's always that possibility of Gerome needing a sudden shove toward the right direction."
"...And he wouldn't say much!"
Gerome slammed the bucket of water down, not just splashing Minerva's wing but also his own feet.
"He wouldn't even try to give reasons why I should consider him my father!"
Gerome reached for the larger towel nearby, oblivious to the tearing sound it made after being dunked in the water and being wrung as if a substitute for Robin or maybe even Morgan's neck.
"I want to hate him so much!"
Gerome kicked the ground in the midst of a childlike tantrum, before storming to Minerva's side and blissfully not taking note of the fact she had an exhausted lack of shine in her eyes.
"I don't care if they roll off a cliff into a pack of risen!"
Another violent wringing of the towel, somehow not ripping it to pieces.
In the end, Minerva let out a long screech before dipping her head to nuzzle Gerome's shoulder. Sure, it probably looked affectionate from a distance… But she just really wanted to freaking shut him up, even if it involved exploiting his finding her kind adorable. That helped more than he'd ever know even with all his skill in knowing her speech.
"You think I'm exaggerating?" Gerome asked, tone rapidly ascending to dreamy as he brushed his fingers on the side of Minerva's face.
Minerva let out a short screech, quick as it was it still made nearby trees lose almost all leaves.
"No matter what you say, I'm not going to accuse you of anything too offensive." Gerome warned her, waving non-threatening three fingers just for some kind of dramatic scene. "You want me to bond with them because you can see Cherche again, I understand that. I simply think it's a bad idea."
Minerva's next screech could have drawn the attention of passing enemies who just happened to slip into the camp. Gerome shook his head mutely, though. Minerva needed that bath if she was to be comfortable living in this hell, and Gerome continued that mission.
SUDDENLY THERE WAS RUSTLING COMING FROM THE BUSHES. If he had been on the battlefield, Gerome wouldn't have kept his back turned on possible danger. Minerva made a much more casual roar, signaling that the person stupidly sneaking about must have been familiar.
Gerome didn't want to even say the name of this possible person in his mind. He didn't want to see the person, either. If he could have his way, that person's memory would be spontaneously healed and cause them to lose some hyperactivity and fondness for abusing the holy art of logical thinking.
There was more rustling from the bushes before something was flung at Gerome. He only slightly felt the collision of something soft on back of his head before pathetically falling.
Minerva was close to roaring that time, offended by any attack to her caretaker no matter how insignificant. She flapped the wing closest to Gerome, trying to put his attention on the mysterious weapon.
"I'm not taking the bait because I'm stupid." Gerome warned Minerva again, rather lightly to be honest. That was before he moved his gaze to crumpled paper at his feet.
The most horrifying thing about the paper was that despite being crumpled, the drawing on it was still visible. It was, obviously, a rather hastily-scribbled arrow taking up all the space. When Gerome carelessly reached a foot out and stomped down to flatten the creases, he noticed barely-identifiable words with a big ink blotch at the end like the writer realized that was a crappy drawing and didn't want their name associated.
Any mystery that could possibly be applied to that moment was killed on the spot when Gerome looked toward the bushes, catching a glimpse of pink hair in a blur before the obvious Morgan dropped behind the bushes. It helped that while trying to hide, what looked to be an infinite supply of crappy drawings scattered from her arms and the gentle breeze made them gracefully flutter around that area. She did slide her foot outward, trying to grab some of the ones on the ground with the bottom of her boot but she was failing miserably at it.
The journey to the bushes was incredibly short and unremarkable, so that was appropriately glossed over as soon as Gerome arrived and loomed over Morgan. Morgan was still on her knees, furiously trying to gather the drawings even with an unrelenting and displeased frown cast on her.
Morgan kept her cool best she could under harsh conditions, instantly setting the drawings aside in a neat pile and rising to full height.
When the moment was right, Morgan dusted herself off and then threw out her arms. The tension was thick enough to break any weapon that dared to sever it, and for once… After such a long time, Morgan's impish smile was replaced with a completely serious scowl.
The siblings' eyes were locked on each other like someone was gonna die.
Morgan kept her arms thrown out on her sides, but if she was in the mood to hug then she would have done so already.
Gerome kept his nose in the air, looking less like an authority figure and more like that one teacher who will never appreciate your learning efforts. The difference is night and day, you best believe.
At long last, Morgan dropped one arm to her side and left the other gesturing to Gerome's presence in general.
"You're worse off than I originally believed."
Gerome instantly gave up, spinning on his heel-
"Wait!" Morgan dropped her serious state, and lunged for Gerome. Not having learned from the last time, she encircled her arms around his waist and held on for dear life. "You could at least pretend to feel better about getting your innermost thoughts in the open! Haven't you been reading the latest research on mental health?!"
"YOU'VE never read anything about mental health!" Gerome quickly reminded her, desperately shoving his palm into her cheek like she was some horrible leech trying to get stuck on his back.
"You don't know what I read! Yes, it's lewd most of the time… But don't think I haven't read a medical book after accidentally walking out of a shop without paying!" Morgan only sank her nails into his hips, putting herself on the path to never getting affection from this guy.
The next several moments were filled with nothing but back and forth, mostly Gerome having the audacity to question Morgan's competence at life and Morgan repeatedly insisting that him keeping a tome locked up is proof his soul should have been bared long ago.
The seemingly endless "battle" of words never would have been settled if Morgan hadn't blurted the ultimate tactic she had stored up her sleeve. Somehow, in the process of losing her patience she actually managed to do what she intended. Anyone who was fortunate enough to stay close to Gerome when wandering around camp would know the magic words that made him become Morgan's prisoner for the day.
"Go ahead and make Lucina wait forever, then! She's all high in the clouds about you too, and you can't be a man about it! You are so far from a man! You- You're a just a TEEN-"
"I'm glad to see you're trying to warm to social interaction, Gerome." Lucina commented, notably being very quick to take the seat close to him at the random table. She sat down regally, but was all smiles like she was seconds away from a killing spree.
Gerome, meanwhile, slumped in his seat like he was about to shake hands with personified death. Although there was no normal way to describe the way he looked, he tried his best to keep his eyes on the paper and quill placed before him… He was NOT going to look at Cherche on his right or Morgan next to Lucina on his left.
Speaking of Morgan, her attitude practically crashed onto the side of cheerfulness as she began to ramble about what they were doing. But Gerome tuned her out unless she had a really weird choice of words. Upon arrival, Gerome knew exactly what was expected of him when he saw the papers and quills set up for all. See, Morgan wrongfully assumed that anyone could just pick up a quill and be a good artist. Clearly, neither Noire or Inigo were brave enough to tell her those arrow drawings needed a ton of work if the world survived and she wanted to make a living off art.
The only important part of Morgan's rambling, or at least what Gerome cared to listen to, was: "The latest research in the medical side of the world claims that pursuing art will lower stress levels. But that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing this because the experts say that mindless drawing can reveal any inner torment people may be...stuffing deep down in the darker corners."
"Well, eff the world then." Gerome interrupted, hastily standing.
Before Gerome could escape, a firm hand suddenly clasped around his wrist and revealed an admirable amount of strength when he tried to break free.
Gerome's frown couldn't have possibly been any more disgusted than it was, and he swore it had weight to it as his gaze met Cherche's. Cherche, of course, had more dignity than anyone even with Morgan's panicked eyes staring into her soul for some help.
"Gerome, your sister certainly could hold back on her enthusiasm…but I don't believe there's anything harmful about drawing."
"Wait, wait- Do you approve of what she's doing?!"
Cherche hummed, obviously exaggerating some thought as she released Gerome's wrist. When she spoke again, her voice was amazingly calm. "I know the 'soul-baring' ritual made you upset. We don't have to speak about that if you don't want to, and I'll do my best to keep my attention on Morgan so she won't get carried away."
"I was NEVER upset." Gerome was getting close to breaking teeth, gritting them much too violently.
Cherche moved her hand to her mouth, doing her best to conceal an amused smile with her palm. That simply didn't work with how huge that smile was, seemingly stretching to her ears if she kept that up. And then it occurred to Gerome where some of those infuriating smiles of Morgan's may have come from.
And then Morgan insisted on having input, smiling under more control and sighing dreamily. "I'm finally starting to sense a mother/son moment. By the end of our drawing session, you'll probably hug."
"I hope you stab yourself." Gerome growled, falling back into his seat and burying the under his arms while he angrily scribbled.
"It's a shame that Robin couldn't be here to share the 'love', though." Cherche suddenly mentioned, the topic instantly going OUT OF CONTROL. Though she didn't seem to mind, even as she picked up a quill and scribbled like the rest.
The moment was so out of anyone's control that Gerome vaguely leaned his head toward Cherche despite not looking up from the paper. "I'll assume that he finally learned to stay away from me. He must have been lost and confused when you spoke to him."
"Actually, he kept laughing. He wouldn't tell me what was so funny, I'm afraid." Cherche even sounded like she was smiling, and that was louder than the sound of her scribbling. "Apparently, it was a conversation only to be known between father and son."
"It must have been about how to act around women." Morgan looked up from her paper, long enough to reach her arm around Lucina's already-tense shoulders and send her leaning closer to the table on her arms. "I'm sure there's someone out there willing to give Gerome-"
"Morgan, why don't we talk about some of the novels you've been reading?" Cherche hastily asked.
Gerome previously was copying Lucina and trying to hide away into his own arms, but when he heard how prompt Cherche was to change the subject… No… No, she couldn't have been for real. He refused to believe that she was going to keep a promise.
Gerome knew that he would need to summon all his power in ignoring people for this one moment of his life, but not giving any attention to the people who obviously wanted some wasn't really as difficult as it should have been. Hey, neither Cherche nor Morgan knew just how many days he could go without uttering a word to anyone. They could hit him with their best, but he would just seal his mouth shut.
Morgan seemed to expect him to really go along and draw something. Very well, then. Gerome had the perfect idea in mind, holding full confidence that this piece of art would reveal the feelings she hoped to disregard privacy for. Maybe she would even LEAVE HIM ALONE.
Speaking of Morgan's never-ending craziness, she must have finished her drawing very quickly. It felt like the shortest moments passed before her chair creaked when she leaned back sighing dreamily.
"What do you think of this beauty, Lucina?" Gods, Morgan's tone took a horrible turn to smug.
It took nearly pulling some hair out, and kicking his own ankle. Mostly the ankle part. Gerome did manage to not look up. He didn't want to get involved, so he didn't give-
"Even if you look close enough, you won't be able to see the smudge on Gerome's mask. I'm sure you're more qualified to rate his appearance more than anyone-"
"Aren't we having the most beautiful weather, Morgan?" Cherche asked, tone completely unenthusiastic. It was only a matter of time.
Gerome slammed the quill on the table, spilling ink like some kind of uncultured disgrace. More importantly, he stood and cleared his throat with enough force to cut off breathing.
Lucina and Morgan both cringed slightly, but only the former looked away from the apparent masterpiece to send a regretful look Gerome's way.
"Don't get so steamed, Gerome! After all your rebellious actions, I probably shouldn't have tried to make at least some of your face be known to people when we're dead." Morgan stood, leaning over the table to hand Gerome her paper. "Why don't you look at this before you throw a tantrum?"
Gerome made a growling noise at her, but snatched the paper regardless. Oh, there were so many words getting ready to spill out his mouth. He didn't even have to look at her work, because if Morgan was involved then it was just going to be something childish. Perhaps a childish demand for him to go ahead and admit why he had a tome. The tome story was stupid, and that was all that could be said.
And then Cherche, not even looking up as she drew, used one hand to extend to the middle of Gerome's back and push him down to meet the artwork.
Of course, Morgan's artwork wasn't really good. She didn't know anything about proper positions or trying to fix those aforementioned ink smudges. The subject of this work was indeed Gerome from the shoulders up… But where was that beauty she was talking about?
"Is she even mad at me? Offended? Anything but obnoxiously happy?" Gerome couldn't believe that thought entered his mind. No, no he wasn't starting to worry what Morgan thought of him. Never.
When Gerome swore he sank to the lowest stage a person possibly could, Lucina met his gaze with a surprising sparkle in her eyes. It was the first time she showed a sign of life for a while.
"Say what you will about her usual artwork, Gerome. Despite having very little memory of you, she captured your smile as if she's seen it before." Lucina didn't sound like she was being threatened to say that, and that was the biggest source of shock.
Gerome felt his heart thump dangerously at her words, though. He did a double take, desperately grabbing the paper when Morgan tried to take it away. With this fresh interpretation, Gerome looked back over the horrible thing.
Indeed, Gerome was smiling in that drawing. It was very slight, but even with Morgan's unskilled angles and shaping she still managed to make it stand out if one were informed that was a positive expression. Gerome never made an effort to smile at people, then ask what it looked like. At that point, he couldn't even remember when was the last time he smiled without Minerva being involved. To make matters bet- WORSE, there was text in the corner as if providing a title for the art.
Gerome kept opening and shutting his mouth, silently saying the title so he didn't have to make himself suffer any more. But Morgan, oooh Morgan was nowhere near close to letting him go of all these new thoughts breaking through the shields in his mind.
Morgan seemed to suddenly appear at Gerome's side, and she offered a hopelessly inappropriate shoulder pat to him. "My brother's true face."
And that was when Gerome bolted back to camp. It was in that same instance when Lucina and Morgan realized that the complicated guy had no idea how to stick to a plan. As for Cherche, well, if you go along with the gossip that she knows every last dark secret about the population…
"He won't be coming back." Lucina cleared her throat, rising from the chair as if prepared to leave for real that time.
Morgan's face grew puffy with barely-restrained frustration, and she could have crushed her knuckles if she kept clenching her hands so tight. But was she angry? She could have sworn it was just...frustration. Had to be. The entire plan to deepen their bonds would tear apart if she filled herself with negative emotion. She had to let in the good, throw the bad out to be slaughtered.
Before anyone could do any more rash actions, Cherche approached Morgan with deliberate steps. There was only one question that she felt comfortable asking: "Would you like me to chase him?"
"You know he's either going to rant to Minerva, or curl up for a power nap in his tent." Lucina helpfully added in, not having to stop and consider any other locations as if it was just obvious.
Morgan buried her face in her hands, as if experiencing the kind of headache not to be wished on enemies. She didn't say anything, though. For once in her life, to her knowledge, she didn't know which part of the plan to immediately charge into. The way she set up the plan, there were multiple branches in case of one's failure. So all she had to do was close her eyes, and randomly pick another.
Disappointed with a lack of direction, Cherche sighed aloud and walked over to the table. She didn't say anything before she grabbed the drawings she and Lucina made. Lucina's drawing wasn't even finished, but if it was from her hands then there was a high chance Gerome would be head over heels for it regardless.
"Mother!" Morgan sounded absolutely offended, approaching Cherche with her arms ridiculously waving around. "Please accept failure when you see it!"
Lucina choked aloud, and though no one bothered to look her way, she pressed her palms to her mouth in an effort to muffle the uncontrollable choking fit at least slightly. It was all she could do to keep that noise from warping itself into laughter, and the shock to her was so much that she had to back up into a tree and eventually smash her forehead against the trunk.
"I have full confidence in your power to make another plan, Morgan." Cherche belatedly replied, not falling victim to the annoyance that was Lucina's noises in the background.
"You'll ruin the very specific times I set up for each action if you take matters into your own hands!" Morgan insisted, using the kind of tone one might expect from someone being dropped underneath the early death axe. "You're not supposed to confront Gerome until he confesses what's with that tome! I know I'm a genius at this kind of thing, but I'm not god-like!"
There was rarely any success in arguing with Cherche, not when she used one of her typical smiles. She had the NERVE to do that to her own – genius, but not god-like by the by – child. She moved in to lovingly brush her hand over Morgan's head, and though that would have normally soothed her like she was still four years old… Nothing would bring back ORDER after what she was about to do.
Morgan couldn't think of anything else to say. She just sputtered a lot, probably drowning the helpless flowers in saliva in a way that history didn't need to know. But it knows now.
"Based on Gerome's actions today, we could be running out of time to make him confess why he would keep a tome. That's why I must do this now, and when I receive the answer I know who will hear this world-shattering news first." Cherche managed to say all of that while dramatically turning away from the future children and walking away, seemingly moving slow as possible as to not have to speak rapid fire.
Morgan was left alone, pretty much. Lucina was trying to recover against the tree, keep any accidental and embarrassing NOT tears from all the craziness out of sight and all that. Meanwhile, that drawing of REAL Gerome was just that: REAL, but a drawing at the same time. Of course, he had nothing to say to comfort her.
But even if Morgan was left pretty much alone for her brain to take in the insanity, she did know one thing.
Whether Gerome would confess willingly, or be put under the influence of some unholy dark magic… He was going to say why someone born to a magical parent would keep a tome of all things. Of all things. Clearly, there was some kind of conspiracy going on. That's what families do to each other: pressure people to admit crap they'd normally rather not say. It's been around for as long as history, believe you me.
On that note of such beautiful family love, it shall continue on…
After all, no one wants to face the wrath of Morgan should it not…
Hello, readers. Your resident, obscure Chosen Storyteller nutcase is making a surprise second Author's Note that you probably won't stick around to read. It's all good if you don't, but if for whatever reason you like watching me fail at the English language then do feel welcome to stick around.
I couldn't add a few somewhat important details in the beginning Note because of that "original" Spongebob reference, so I'll go ahead and do that now:
The most important thing to say is that I've been kind of sick even though January's only just begun, so that's why if this chapter feels like maybe-necessary details are missing from this chapter...that's because it most likely is. Even though I normally fail at proofreading, the mistakes in this chapter will probably be all over the place because I was just relieved to be able to have finger strength to type.
Secondly, because of some missing details in this chapter...you'll get to see what I'm sure will be a heartwarming encounter between mother and son in the next. Yeah, the next will blatantly follow up afterward while raising fingers for a rude gesture to the concept of proper pacing. Hope you read this one, or at least attempted. I know it's probably hard with the, um, out of control craziness.
Finally, I just want to say I won't let sickness get me down. Even though I'm obviously not a beloved writer by any stretch of the imagination, I do enjoy writing this crap. I call it crap, sure, but I still have fun like I'm still a teenager. Just know that even though life will only make it harder to pump out stories like I probably could have used to do if I really tried, I'll certainly try regardless. Bring it on, 2018. You think a cold's gonna make me stop? *Nearly sent falling to the ground over a coughing fit*
The Chosen Storyteller's signing out now~ Not really sure why I added that mark at the end, but what's done is done! I don't even have a moral, just a word of attempted encouragement for you guys: do whatever you can to survive the new year! If you can get through my stories, I believe you're much more stronger mentally than I am!