I know you guys are probably sick of my excuses, but being an adult is HARD! My anniversary came up this month (one year married to my living husband), we're movin to a bigger apartment at the beginning of next month, my birthday was last month and it was two days before hand that I told my family about something that happened to me when I was 14 that I never told them...so yeah, I have had a very stressful time as of late with no interest in writing for a bit. But I finally got this done, which puts a neat little bow on Broken!Morgan's life for the three in the tent and the readers. The end also has a mention of the beginnings of Robin's plan for the capital which may be extremely confusing to people who don't notice all the little details I do. Anyway, hope you enjoy, read and review!
A teenaged son was still an odd thing to have, especially when she hadn't had said child yet in her own world...his own however, as she had realized, may have been 'darker' than they had assumed...
A deep breath, controlled...unlike seemingly everything else right now. Henry had helped Morgan into his bed once they had reached the tent, tucking him in and softly insisting he sleep, though it took over an hour of assurance that his mother wouldn't leave before the young boy finally calmed enough to sleep. Noire sat with her back against the side of his bed frame at the end, head turned to keep an eye on the sleeping boy. The boy's father had moved over to sitting on the bed silently while Robin's quill moved almost soundlessly across the parchment spread across her desk.
"Robin?" Her movement stopped at her old travelling companion's voice, the flames of the candle gave no sign of annoyance.
"...Yes Henry?" After several moments of his silence the tactician realized he must have been waiting for her to respond.
"Do you know...what happened to Morgan...?" The dark mage's voice was soft, worried about their son.
"I can't be certain without having seen his world." She pointed out, pausing a moment. "...But I have my suspicions, yes." The black haired girl's breathing hitched, it didn't take a look to know her attention had been brought to the one talking.
"W-what do y-you...um...suspect?" The archer asked hesitantly, silence filling the tent for a few seconds.
"I'm dead." It was said so bluntly, so suddenly that there was no response for a brief moment.
"You're right in front of me!" The closed eyes boy disagreed hotly, bolting to his feet...he stopped when the orange haired teenager merely sighed.
"That's not quite what I mean Henry." With the statement he sat back down, awaiting clarification. "I mean that Morgan's version of me is dead. Since before he even came here." A stifled gasp left the mouth of the hexer's daughter.
"...And why do you think that?" The white haired boy questioned.
"He clings. As though afraid I will disappear." The most obvious piece of evidence was the one the cloaked teenager went with first, as was only logical...no one tried to argue the point. "His memory loss could have been from a head wound before we found him...I find it far more likely, however, that Naga blocked his memories upon sending him here or he blocked them himself. He has...changed lately. He struggles with tactics he understood completely a week ago, and his speech has become simpler. "I believe his memories began to slowly return, and with them the broken state my death caused him."
"Oh gods..." The time travelling girl sounded a mixture of horrified and sick. "You're telling me...th-the boy who didn't e-even respond to h-his name or a t-touch...THAT'S Morgan?" Her voice cracked and hitched repeatedly, the end little more than a sob.
"That's the most likely possibility, yes." Sobs wracked the more developed girl's body.
"Can we...can we save him?" The Plegian asked, his voice desperate enough that a look was unnecessary to know his eyes had opened again.
"I don't know." The answer left the black eyed teenager's mouth without a thought.
"You don't think so." He corrected her.
"...It's improbable." She admitted, the sobbing within the small space only getting louder. The flame flickered once, all that was shown of her emotions. "It seems you weren't around in his world at all Henry."
"I...I wasn't?"
"The way he spoke of you became more contemptful as his memories returned, nor was he ever bothered by your absence in his life here. He likened Chrom turning me into this to you...said 'just like Dad' after I corrected the royal's thinking on the Robin of before." The words felt heavy as they left the tactician's mouth, as though giving a horrible truth...though, she supposed, that was the most apt description she could give.
"I wasn't there..." The dark mage's voice sounded almost broken, it was a harsh thing to think of.
"M-Morgan, he-" Noire began to speak, only to sob a few more times before she could try again. "He s-spoke so...so highly o-of his mother. B-but...he n-never said a-a word...about His f-father." She choked on her words when she tried to continue, but pushed passed. "He j-just told...told me h-his mother...i-is this Robin. R-red eyes...and eating l-life energy...it all..." The aforementioned eyes closed as the girl returned to her sobs.
"I...I changed you..." The white haired boy realized, sounding sick.
"So it would seem. In his world, at least." The cloak wearer adjusted it slightly, taking another breath. "You may have died...or you may have simply left me. While Morgan clearly adored his version he may blame her eventual death on you." The small space felt too small, too stifling in the silence that followed...she returned her attention to her parchment again, as she had before the conversation, picking up the quill with dried ink and scraping it off carefully then returning it to the parchment as she moved it around to create what she needed.
¬NF¬
Technically Robin didn't know how much time had passed since the thick silence filled her tent, Noire had cried herself to sleep in a rather uncomfortable-looking position and Henry's own body had forced sleep when unable to fully process what they had learned. The candle still shed it's light on them as quill scratched across paper, the owner still at work. She had already suspected what she had told them, so the only new information was what had been given by the time traveller, but not a word of it really affected her. The child-like teenager knew it would have left her much like the black haired girl not long ago, yet instead it left nothing but a mild unhappiness at her old travelling companion's reactions to it.
"What a troublesome child Naga has given me." One would assume a being capable of time travel (or perhaps it was simply some sort of world hopping) would send a child of strength and use if intending to help this time, rather than a cracked doll ready to break...though gods never seemed to follow such 'mortal' thoughts. She took another breath, needing to keep focused on the problem before her rather than the ones off to the sides. She had plans to make for the upcoming battle, yet knew nothing of the area that would be fighting within. "If you intend to continue feining sleep in some vain hope that the things you have learned of Morgan were a mere dream I suggest you shift to a position easier on your back and arms...an archer incapable of drawing their bow is useless." The possibility that she would be ignored was low, so it was no surprise when the hexer's daughter moved.
"I-I'm sorry." The pigtailed teenager made no sign of having heard the soft voice, but both knew she did. "...Morgan can't fight like this." The quill paused for a moment but quickly returned to what it had been doing.
"...No. No he can't." She agreed.
"How c-can I...help?" A blink at the unlikely possibility of the question, quill stopping for only the briefest moment.
"Say'ri."
"W-what?"
"Say'ri is a resident of this continent, as are Virion and Cherche. Ask them for information on the capital, specifically the castle...any of them may have went there before." The red eyed teenager elaborated. "Any information of the structures within the city and terrain could be useful as well."
"O-okay!" The girl arose to her feet, she must be returning to her parents' tent before they awoke to notice her absence.
"And Noire?" She stopped just as the pushed the tent flap open, turning her head back to look at the teenager. "Most importantly, ask if they know if the castle is over a thousand years old."
"A thousand years old?" The tone conveyed that the other female thought the question odd.
"Yes. While it may not appear as such, that piece of information is the most vital you could obtain for me." Glowing eyes bore into wide purple ones, a quick nod the only response before the inhabitants were left without their temporary addition.
Even as Attitude!Robin she knows better than to send her son into a fight he clearly isn't stable enough to handle. Noire is determined to help, if only to keep him as safe as possible, and poor Henry just learned a whole bunch of terribly sad things about his son's timeline. Also, I love that Attitude!Robin embraces the number and pattern recognition skills that Shy!Robin hates so much, so figuring all this out was rather easy for her. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, see you all soon!