Common Grounds
I have the worst writer's block imaginable lately. And I can't write a good summary. So strap in, folks; because here we go!
Edited by only me AND a friend back in the first draft long ago. Thank you, even if it's drastically different now! As always, I don't own any of these characters or settings.
I hope you guys enjoy!
"This is absurd," Chrom grumbled to himself, tossing the missive into the desk. "A waste of everyone's time."
The growing mess of papers on the prince's desk only taunted him as he tilted back his chair, stretching his back from the arduous task. Glancing at the entrance, the little light coming from the flap warned him it had been a little while since he started his task. The heat inside the tent didn't help either, making the air warm and humid and making him sluggish.
He sighed.
If only Robin wasn't out with Lucina to the local market, Chrom would've left this task of revising the royal correspondents for another day. He had far more pressing concerns to attend to than answering some nobles' petulant complaints. For goodness' sake, who worried about the rising price of pegasus feathers in the middle of a war.
He wrinkled his nose as he set the chair's four legs back into the ground.
Nevertheless, the prince desired that the mother and daughter have some time to themselves, so he took on the difficult task while his wife was away. No matter how much he despised the tediousness of it all.
Grumbling about royal customs, Chrom picked up the inked feather again to resume writing back with the typical dry responses he was taught to respond with. He had more important things to do with his time, but this was for his family and the good of the Ylisse, which he repeated like a mantra over and-
A resounding and familiar clang of armor rang out in front of the tent, jolting him out of his thoughts.
The flap of the canvas moved, and Frederick appeared in the royal family tent, his usually pristine armor covered in morning dew, mud, and leaves. Chrom shot up from his seat in surprise. Despite his ghastly appearance, the knight remained straight faced and without any hesitation said, "Pardon my interruption, milord."
"What in Naga's name happened to you, Frederick? Did you get attacked by the vegetation?"
"Correction, I fell into a pitfall instead during a patrol around the encampment," The retainer said, not missing a beat. "I've cleaned myself to the best of my ability, but I had more urgent matters to attend to, such as asking if you have seen young Morgan."
"Morgan?" Chrom's heart accelerated. Could there be something wrong? Was he missing? Perhaps he should have been keeping an eye on the lad instead of his work. His fear flooded him for a few seconds, making Chrom tense and ready to leave when his good sense returned. "Oh, it was one of Morgan's pitfalls, wasn't it? Of course."
"I'm certain they are. No foe of Ylisse has done such tricks before,'' Frederick said, wiping a stray leaf from his hair and flicking it away. "Fortunately, I was not alone. I was accompanied by Sumia when I fell in, and she tried to aid me before she fell in herself. We were only able to free ourselves after summoning her pegasus."
Chrom almost snorted at the image. "And you haven't found him?"
"I thought he would be in your company, sir. I haven't seen him since this morning's drill sessions," The retainer frowned, noting the young tactician wasn't present here either. "Should I organize a search party in your stead?"
Morgan…
The prince spoke to the lad in solely brief bursts lately, as the older man had been preoccupied with his responsibilities to Ylisse and the army. Other than the occasional meal together, the young tactician didn't seem to mind his father's lack of time with him, going off on his own around the camp.
Morgan was a well-behaved child who was diligent in his studies and training. There was no reason to be concerned about his daily activities.
But pitfalls? Chrom thought. The lad did have a mischievous side. If Chrom wasn't wary of the traps thanks to his wife's warnings, he could easily fall without looking. For the benefit of everyone else, Robin advised the young lad to tone down his digging. And Morgan was never one to go against his family's wishes, especially his mother's. They were lucky something like this hadn't occurred sooner.
Shaking his head, Chrom reasoned, "There's no need for that. It's best that I handle it myself and give him a stern scolding about his stunt. A search will be more trouble than it's worth, and I'm sure there's no need to worry. Instead, I question, what do you want from him?"
"Well, to learn his swift technique, the hole was made in less than a day by my projection. If I counted correctly, it would be his fourth pitfall this month alone. However, young Morgan needs to practice the placement of his traps."
There must be something amiss with the lad, yet somehow, the prospect of the retainer catching Morgan first was more worrisome to the prince. He did know of Frederick's zeal firsthand, after all. He should spare his son the same.
"No worries, my friend! I'll find him and inform him of your praise," Chrom quickly put on his boots and sheathed Falchion. He'll make sure to bid a quick pardon to Robin when she returns, but he was sure she would understand if it involved their son.
"Milord, don't you have work to attend to?" Frederick eyed the stacked scrolls and letters on the desk. His eyebrows raised in disapproval.
"This is of vital importance!" Chrom exclaimed as he hurried out of the tent to find Morgan.
It wasn't long before Chrom tracked him down. The soldiers pointed to the camp's edges, where hunters left to forage in an expansive plain surrounded by trees after being extensively interrogated by their commander, who grew steadily more worried as time went on.
As the day progressed into the afternoon, the lazy sun became a scalding heat. Chrom had to wipe his brow as he began to mildly curse his situation. He should've asked Frederick where that damn pitfall even was to begin with. It could've spared him the search in such humid conditions.
The blue-haired tactician sat in the center of the plains, a tiny mound of earth piled behind him, and a thin canvas cover pulled away to reveal a dug pit. The young tactician's coat billowed around him, hanging loosely from his frame. Meanwhile, Morgan appeared to be looking over the hole with a shovel on his right side, while a small makeshift ladder was lying on his left side. Both were unused at the moment as the lad tucked a small item into his pockets.
The father sighed in relief. The lad hunched over, appearing to gather his breath, as the prince approached from behind and said, "Morgan?"
"Huh?!" Morgan yelled. Turning around, the lad's right hand went to his waist before he stopped, looking up. "Father!"
Morgan grinned, his cheeks already flushing a bright red. Light sweat dotted his skin as his hair stuck to his forehead. He hastily shrugged the coat back on and fastened the tie of the garment in a lax knot with his fumbling fingers.
"Why on earth are you so far away? I had to address almost the entire camp to find you before a soldier could even point in one direction," Chrom reprimanded the lad as he stood up from the grass, picked up the shovel, and moved away from the hole. "Do you know what might have happened if something occurred and there's no one around?"
"Nothing happened! I've been here for quite some time already!"
"Doing what exactly?"
"Resting! I'm just… resting! Right here. In this spot. We have pretty good weather today! Gotta enjoy it while it lasts!" Morgan explained, gripping the handle of the shovel. "Morning patrol already declared it safe to pass! But-er- I thought you had work to do back in the tent? Mother said so before she left…"
"I did. However, I've been informed of a certain falling incident, and I've been searching everywhere for you ever since. It proved to be a difficult task, apparently."
"Fall?" Morgan repeated. He lightly poked his shoulder before quickly moving his hand to his side. He let out a high-pitched laugh. "I haven't heard any falls around here."
Chrom narrowed his eyes, now even more suspicious. "Really? Then, what do I see behind you?"
"Behind me?" Morgan asked, looking back. "Oh, it's a hole."
"A large one at that," Chrom stated plainly. He peeked over the lad's shoulder as Morgan fidgeted from side to side. "Judging by the size, it could've been the one Frederick fell along with Sumia."
"Who-what?" The lad's eyes widened, and his mouth slacked before he began to sputter, "Someone fell- I'm so sorry- I'll go there right now! OR was it this one?! Gosh, it was just meant for Mother when she returned!"
"It's alright. They have already left. No harm befell them other than some dirty attire. Not that you should've been instigating such problems in the first place."
The lad slumped, looking down into his scuffed boots. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
"Of all days to perform such a stunt," Chrom uttered under his breath, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. While the work back in the camp was excruciatingly dull, it still needed to be done. But he isn't about to leave Morgan behind on his own. "That pitfall should be filled to prevent other Shepherds from falling. It's a risk to the rest of the encampment if Frederick of all people fell for it. Best to do so before your mother and sister return. Do you hear me?"
"I WAS planning to fill it in!" Morgan motioned to the shovel. Only the tip of the blade was dirty. The rest of the tool was immaculate. His posture, on the other hand, was that of a tired worker, almost as if he had begun a long time ago.
Strange.
"Why haven't you taken off your coat then? With this blasted heat, you look like you've been drenched in sweat."
"Um," Morgan stalled, raising the shovel slowly as if testing its weight. "I'm good; all my items are in here. I'll keep it on."
"Right," Chrom said, used to Robin's attachment to her own coat, but even she removed it when the weather called for it. The prince almost continued on with his scolding when he saw the lad sway a bit to one side before correcting himself.
There was something wrong with the lad, Chrom sensed. Noting how frequently touched the lad chest and took short, hard breaths.
"Morgan, how are you holding up?" Chrom asked carefully. Heat strokes were a common concern when they were in Plegia, but this was nowhere near the level of heat for such an ailment.
"Good!" The lad gasped, wiping his cheek with the edge of his sleeve. "Just a bit tired."
"Doesn't look like it," Chrom peered closer, observing the slump on the boy's shoulders and a slight tremor passing through Morgan's arms as he lifted the handle. The tie in front of the cloak loosened slightly from its clumsy knot, and the father could see something purple along his clavicle.
Chrom inhaled a sharp breath before bellowing, "Morgan, what is THAT?"
"It's okay! It's nothing to worry about!" Morgan responded immediately, putting his hands up defensively. The shovel dropped into the hole with a dull thump.
"Don't be foolish-"
Morgan flustered, backing away. "It may LOOK bad, but I'm fine! It's just some light bruising!"
"Let me see it then!" Chrom retorted, coming closer.
The lad avoided Chrom's grasp by moving backwards, nearly succeeding in dodging him until the prince caught hold of Morgan's lapel and pulled it open.
Morgan's left arm and shoulder were covered in bruises and cuts, some fresh and others healing. The lad's skin was a purple, blue, and yellow mixture due to the numerous wounds, and there were bandages peeking out from under his tunic that were loosened and covered with dry red flecks.
"Fool! Why didn't you say anything?" Chrom hauled Morgan upwards by the shoulders, carrying the boy who squawked indigently. The prince's heart pounded in his chest as he noticed more wounds on the lad's right side.
"No! OW! It's fine, Father! It's already healed-"
"We are going to march straight to the nursing tent for a sick bed. You shouldn't be able to even MOVE in this state! What in blazes were you THINKING?"
He should call Lissa-no-Libra or Maribelle—frankly, anyone with some experience with a healing staff. Chrom was unsure of the nature of the wounds, but even he can see that a simple potion cannot heal them. Just how long did it take him to notice his son's injuries? What kind of parent was he to overlook such obvious red flags?
"Father," The lad babbled, trying to dig his heels into the ground. "It was an accident and had nothing to do with battle! So please let me down!"
"Nonsense! These wounds need attention, and if you're not going to solicit any help, I will! Accident or not, we'll figure out what happened. The fiend who did this to you will be caught-"
Now the lad's face truly reddened, and he shouted, "It was for Nah okay! She wanted a flower, and I went to get it yesterday when I fell!"
Chrom stopped. For a moment, he questioned WHO the lad was referring to before the image of Nowi's daughter came to his mind. With deadly stillness, the prince slowly set Morgan down, who looked thoroughly embarrassed, and gripped him by the shoulders, staring straight into the lad's eyes. The words echoed around the older man's mind until he uttered, "A flower?"
"Yes?" The lad squeaked.
"All this for a blasted flower? FOR A GIRL?"
"She asked for it! Not really- but I did get it for her! I just had to climb that cliffside we passed by-"
"By yourself? You're telling me you climbed such a treacherous path to get some flowers?! That cliffside with all the holes and crevices where not even the locals dared to venture. You mean that one?"
"I-yeah-"
"I expect this from Inigo, but certainly not from YOU! We are at war, Morgan! Our enemies could've murdered you outside of camp or taken you hostage and ransomed you off. Instead, you're off to get killed by NATURE."
The boy shrank from his father's scolding. "I just wanted to help."
"She's a manakete! She could've flown towards her destination! You can't! It's not the time to show off for such a callous reason and disappear on such a whim! Your mother and sister would've been worried sick wondering where you ran off to!"
Morgan hissed between his teeth, and only now Chrom could see how tightly he held the boy in his grip. Then, Chrom's anger dimmed as he recognized the pained look in Morgan's expression, and his stomach dropped in realization.
What are you doing?
Slowly, the prince eased his grip on the lad's shoulders, before turning around and breathing deeply. Gods he could've kicked himself.
Yelling was doing him no favors. He knew that Morgan was a friendly child who enjoyed helping others at camp and would've aided any of his friends. He and Robin often saw him dash across camp to talk to a future Shepherd or help with chores with a smile on his lips. Chrom was immensely proud of the lad's thoughtfulness. What parent wouldn't be?
But the thought of any other member of his family being lost to him was unbearable.
The prince pinched his nose. "Look- I'm sorry, Morgan," -Why are words so hard?- "You're an amnesiac, a prince no less, in a warring nation. Your mother and I are the leaders; we are the first targets for any foe. I know it's no excuse, but you can't wander off without telling anyone. ESPECIALLY, not seeking any treatment for your injuries."
"I did say it's not bad!" Morgan chirped reassuringly before pausing. "Um-I think I did open a cut or two…"
When Chrom turned around, he saw the lad looking down at his tunic. Pushing aside his right coat sleeve, Morgan nudged at an untucked bandage, revealing a clean laceration across his shoulder. He poked the outside of the wound, wincing.
"Don't touch it," Chrom warned, gently pushing Morgan's hand away. He examined it closely, seeing that most of the ghastly sight was the result of the bruising more than anything else. "At least the cut is shallow."
"I poured all my spare potions to keep it like this! It didn't help with the bruise much though…"
"And Lucina didn't notice anything amiss at all?"
"Nope!" Morgan beamed, clearly pleased with himself for getting away with his deception. "Neither did Mother! I almost did get caught by Lucina when I returned last night, but I hid it just before she could see!"
Well, Chrom was positive that if he hadn't run into the young lad, he wouldn't have noticed either. At least, it made the father feel slightly better about not noticing sooner. Regardless, the lad was still in need of medical attention. It would be best to keep those wounds covered until they returned to camp, unless they wanted to cause a scene. Lissa should be able to help.
The prince glanced around the terrain, sighting a well-shaded canopy of trees, and pointed it to Morgan, telling him to sit over there.
"But what about the hole? Someone already fell," Morgan cringed, scratching the corner of the bandage. "To be honest, I don't think I can fill it anytime soon. I tried and- er, that was a mistake. I think after those drills some of the cuts really didn't react well. And this sun too."
"We're leaving it as it is. YOU are certainly not going to continue," Chrom lightly pushed the lad to a forested area, and the lad settled under the shade with a sharp groan. The father flinched slightly at the sound, keeping a sharp eye on Morgan. "Do you have any items for your wounds?"
"I have a roll of bandages in my pocket," The lad said, taking it out of his right pocket and waving it around. "I was going to change them, but I couldn't reach behind my back. Imagine how that would've looked? I'm glad I didn't completely undress just yet then!"
"Very funny, young man. Hand it over," Chrom commanded and took the roll from his hand and unfurled it. "I'm not the best at this line of work, but a short knot should hold until we reach camp."
Morgan's injuries became clear when he fully shed his coat, revealing that his entire back had been affected. Multiple lines crossed his back, some short and some extending almost the entire length of his backside, each in a different stage of healing. The foul hues of the bruises were unpleasant to look at, but they did not appear to cause any long-term damage. The father swallowed his searing worry and began to replace the bandages, mostly damp from sweat rather than blood.
Fortunately, even though Chrom had no formal experience with healing, being around two sisters who did gave him some grasp of the fundamentals. When Chrom was younger, he grew to detest making Emmeryn fret over him or Lissa cry when he suffered some more severe wounds. Afterwards, the prince learned to fix his own mild injuries to avoid giving his sisters further grief.
As strange as it may have seemed, he was now the one providing care this time around, partly out of guilt for aggravating his son's wounds and partly out of genuine concern for Morgan's well-being. He had a better understanding of how his sisters must have felt when he was injured. More so now than ever before.
"Don't ever make such a rash decision again. No more pitfalls in the near future and if you leave the premises, you are to inform us first. Do you understand?" Chrom chastised, tossing the old bandages to the side with mild disgust.
"I do."
"Same with any injuries you acquire."
"This was just an exception! I'm not that reckless!" The lad defended. He stretched his legs. "I think?"
Chrom wasn't going to answer that question lest he begin another scolding. Dressing the lad's shoulder in fresh gauze, Chrom instead asked, "Was she happy when she received it?"
"Huh? Nah?" Morgan smiled. "Yeah! She was pretty happy when I gave it to her! She spoke about this rare flower called Naga's Bell that only grows every two hundred years, and she was praying to Naga for guidance on how to get one, so I thought, 'Why not get it myself?'. Um, a bit more difficult than I thought. But it was worth it!"
"Even after all this trouble it caused?"
"Not the most strategically sound move, sure. But there was a full moon yesterday, and it was my only chance. Nah didn't ask me to get it. This whole thing is my fault, not hers. And I don't regret it."
As Morgan's voice finished with a hint of steel in his words, Chrom paused for a brief second to study the boy's momentary hard visage. In all the months since finding him in the ruins, the young tactician hasn't really spoken with such conviction in their conversations.
"I didn't think you two were that close…" Chrom mused, more to himself. Outside of his own family, Morgan paired up with the half-manakete quite often on the battlefield. But the same could be said for almost all future children.
"We're good friends and allies! Last week, she did protect me from a group of Risen. It was amazing how she swooped down and just annihilated that pack with no help!" he said, his eyes shining brightly. "Sometimes I even review some practice strategies with her. Nah can be pretty good at it too! I recommended a basic treatise on troop patterns so she could learn some more about it."
He seems lively, Chrom thought, noticing a renowned energy in the lad's demeanor when he spoke. As he finished tucking in the last bandage, the prince opened his mouth to ask another question when a sharp gust blew their way, offering a cool touch from the blazing sun.
His instinct alerted him, and Morgan himself turned to look in the wind's direction. A loud groan came from behind the woods on the east side, followed by a flash of green light.
Chrom subconsciously blocked the young tactician's view until he could assess the strange atmosphere. Taking Falchion off its sheath, the prince stiffened in preparation for a fight.
A small figure emerged from the treeline, her twin braids smacking against her high collar, along with a white flower tucked in her right pointed ear. In her palm, a dragonstone glowed dangerously between her clenched fingers.
"Nah?" Morgan gasped, donning the coat again and clumsily knotting the tie in front. Without seemingly any thought, the lad rushed to meet her midway through the field. Chrom stood still, ready to dash at any moment, but willed himself to calm down.
"Morgan! Are you okay?" Nah stopped in front of the lad, peering at him with guarded eyes and weirdly sniffing the air. She circled around him, checking. "I thought you were kidnapped by bandits! Or something worse!"
"Sorry for the worry," the lad grinned, rubbing the back of his head before wincing. "Wait, did you FLY here?"
"Of course! I was in the middle of prayer when Naga urgently told me to check up on you!"
Naga? Chrom thought, lowering his sword. Why would a Divine Dragon speak to her about Morgan?
Chrom couldn't help but feel slightly curious about what it was about. He resolved to approach the pair, who were too preoccupied with each other to notice the prince.
"I was out digging traps, that's all! Gotta capture the bad guys and all that! There's no need to fret over old me here!" Morgan assured.
"Right after going to the cliffside? Morgan…" The half-manakete sighed. "I know you're injured, you fool. You think I wouldn't notice the way you limped when you handed me the flower?"
"I'm not injured."
Nah put her hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing it, and he let out a small 'ow'.
"It was just a small cut, ha ha ha!" The young tactician chuckled, his voice more high-pitched than usual. "Fell into a rock on the way back. It's not a big deal!"
"Oh, Morgan, you don't have to lie," Nah lamented, and Chrom could empathize with her worry. The lad wasn't doing anyone any favors by hiding. "Just rest for the time being or have Brady look at you. You need a staff for those cuts."
"It's healing, Nah. Just a few more days, and I'll be good as new!'' Morgan glanced at the flower tucked behind her ear before smiling, puffing out his chest.
"That's not the poin- Eep!"
Nah yelled, finally noticing Chrom, who approached behind the lad. The half-manakate's face flushed bright red as she removed her hand from the lad's shoulder and jumped back, adding a large space between all three of them. "I'm sorry, sir! I mean, Chrom! Pardon, I didn't see you there. You see, there was a slight problem yesterday, and I-"
"No need to explain, I already know how the story goes," said the amused father, feeling strangely nostalgic. "Morgan WAS reckless in not seeking a healer for his injuries. He deserves a good scolding."
Morgan shot him an annoyed look, a rarity for the usually cheery lad. Chrom frowned back, noticing how the lad's ears colored slightly red.
What provoked that reaction?
"Oh, so you do know," Nah said, nervously pushing her braids back. "It was partially my fault, but I do agree. I am really sorry about all this."
"You don't have to apologize. I'm fine!" His son proclaimed, stuffing his hands into his pockets and standing straight as an arrow. "The bruises look pretty bad, and I had to take a concoction for a really bad cut on my back, but hey, it'll leave a nice-looking scar!"
"Morgan, are you trying to make me feel better? Because I don't think it helps to say that you have a scar because of me…"
"Like I said, it's not your fault! In fact, you didn't ask me to give it to you. So, really, it's just my own fault! I should really look where I'm putting my hands on when I climb."
Nah rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. "Always looking for the bright side, aren't you?"
"Heh, I guess so!" Morgan grinned. "It's in my nature!"
"And it's in our best interest to return back as soon as possible," Chrom interrupted, eyeing Morgan before turning to Nah. "But I appreciate you made the effort to check on Morgan's well-being. At least, someone is looking out for him if he can't do it himself."
Morgan made a small noise of indignation while Nah nodded, laughing under her breath. Chrom almost wanted to ask what was wrong with him, but decided not to. There were some important matters to attend to.
"I'll ask you a favor as well, if you can," Chrom continued as the half-manakete listened intently. "Inform Frederick that Morgan is with me. Knowing him, he'll likely organize a party with or without my consent if I don't respond soon enough. We still have to head to the nursing tent to check the rest of the injuries."
Nah agreed, and Chrom cast another glance at Morgan, who wore a small frown. Something began to irk at the back of the prince's mind, like he was forgetting a key fact somewhere.
"You're sure you don't want to be accompanied? Bandits could be roaming around here," The young tactician questioned.
"Don't worry, I have my stone with me this time," Nah flashed the dragonstone in her left hand. Her right reached up to her ear, touching the stem of the flower and its petals. A soft expression came over her features. "But thank you for the flower, Morgan; I'll treasure it."
"It was nothing!" The lad waved his arms before turning serious. "Really, Nah. It's-"
"-alright," Chrom said even if the wound burned terribly. The mercenary's glass sword cut deeply into his left shoulder; an inch more and it would've severed muscle. His knees almost buckled from the numbed pain, but he kept himself walking straight. "There's no need to worry."
"Don't ever do such an act again," Robin condemned, her voice cracking as she held him up by his uninjured side and dragged him off the battlefield. "I could've handled that enemy by myself."
"It was going to hit you regardless. Was I supposed to stand back and watch you take that blow?"
"Yes. Surely, it would've been less damaging than your wound right now. It'll leave a scar at this rate."
"So be it. It was that or your life. I didn't think twice about it."
"You'll recklessly throw yourself into a sword for almost anyone?" she scoffed, disbelieving.
Chrom felt his heart tug at her words, wanting to vehemently prove her wrong, and he replied without thought, "No, just for you."
Chrom blinked, brought back to the present with the heat and sunny skies from that night years ago. Why was he recalling that memory of all things? His eyes subconsciously wandered to the flower tucked in Nah's ear and then to Morgan's coat which hid most of his cuts and bruises. The lad did say that his rash actions were an exception. Could it be that…?
No. It's been a long and arduous day. He's just mostly likely overthinking this whole affair. The young tactician was a friendly lad looking out for his friend; there's nothing more to it.
When the prince snapped from his thoughts, Nah already retreated, leaving the plains with another cool gust of wind behind. The father couldn't miss how Morgan's eyes lingered to the sky where Nah left them, his bravado melting away as he slumped his shoulders.
Perhaps…
"Heh," The father muttered, raising a hand and gently rubbing the boy's hair. The lad looked at him confused, but Chrom didn't say another word.
By the time they arrived at the nursing tent, only a small, faint scar remained across the lad's left shoulder to his back, healed by a proper staff and a bribed Lissa. It was just in time for the rest of their family to arrive, hearing both the young tactician's pitfall mishap and the prince's forgotten task with a myriad of emotions.
And Chrom made no mention of the lad's injuries or his suspicions, keeping them to himself for now.
Author's Notes: Maybe Chrom is reading too much into his son's relationship with Nah. Maybe not. (- ‿◦ )
I never married any of the future children in my playthroughs, but Male Morgan's and Nah's supports were adorable. So cute. And I'm biased. I'm still debating whether to add that relationship tag or not because it's a spoiler in itself.
On writing: This is probably one of the most taxing works I've done so far. I kept changing it constantly, and that's why I've been gone for almost two months. Originally it was darker and more dramatic, but the problem is that these two aren't really brooders like Robin and Lucina, so there's not much to dramatize without taking it out of character. Maybe it's still a little out of character, but I wanted to have at least SOME story with these two that didn't directly involve Robin, so I cut about half the content and replaced it with fluff/humor. In the end, it's not really what I originally envisioned at all, and I disliked it for quite a while.
Yet, if I didn't post it, I couldn't move on to other WIPs for some reason. I need to get it out of my system. No matter how I personally feel about it.
For now, this is where I'll leave this father-son miniseries. Maybe. I still have some ideas, but I'm kinda burned out on developing them. Chrom's and Morgan's shenanigans were one of the very first premises I ever wrote down, so it's been a long time coming since I started publishing. It's been a struggle to write these out, but I'm grateful nonetheless. Although these two interactions aren't that popular, I'm glad they brought much joy to you all! :D