He hid himself behind a tree, quietly watching, making sure that his presence went unnoticed. With attentive eyes, he followed her every moment. The distance between them made it hard for Morgan to perfectly observe his mother, but he was certain that she wasn't up to anything good. For the past few nights, he had followed her out to the clearing, hiding among the trees bordering their campsite. It was always quite late at night when Leaf would leave her tent, carrying her sword and Thoron tome with her into the clearing, where she would sit until the darkness gave way to light.
As hard as Morgan tried, he could never stay awake long enough to figure out why she kept going outside and what she did there. He would always fall asleep some time into his spying, and would often find himself waking up in the tent he shared with Owain. Morgan didn't know how he ended up back there or who carried him back, but he was certain that it wasn't Leaf. His mother had changed after their battle at the Dragon's Table, growing ever more distant from them, from him, from everyone. She didn't say much either, only giving out commands in the midst of battles when necessary, and even then, her strategies were often voiced by Chrom. Morgan didn't often get to see his mother; she kept to herself in her tent, burying herself in her books.
He had been there, at the Dragon's Table, when Validar had been defeated and the fell dragon awakened. Though there were many gaps in his memory and he held no recollection of the terror and despair that Grima had brought upon them, Morgan knew that they couldn't allow the dragon to roam freely, for Cynthia and all his friends had told him their stories of the future, the future were most of their parents were dead and they were the only ones left alive. What didn't make sense to him was the relationship between the so-called Plegian hierophant and his mother. He was there with Lucina and his father when the other Leaf explained who she really was, but Morgan didn't fully understand. What impact did it make that they were the same person, only differing in the choices they've made? He loved her, no matter what, for she was the only constant in his mind, the only light that shone through the fogginess of his memory.
The others didn't share his feelings on the matter though; even Lucina looked as if she was having second thoughts. Lucina, his sister! Morgan could vaguely remember her in his life, but like with every memory that wasn't of his mother, the details were sketchy. He couldn't remember what sort of life they had together, and even upon hearing the stories of the ruined future from which Lucina had travelled from, Morgan couldn't share her determination from preventing it. He also couldn't share the doubt and suspicion the others held against his mother.
Not many had been prevent at Validar's castle, when the Plegian king had taken control of Leaf's body, using her to steal the Fire Emblem from Chrom, but Morgan had been there. It was hard to believe what he had seen, but no one had been in more shock than Lucina. Morgan didn't know who started it, but rumours had begun circulating around after that incident, only to intensify after the battle at the Dragon's Table. What if Leaf fell under Grima's control again and killed them all? What if Grima forced her to lead them into a trap? What if, what if, what if? Morgan didn't hold that incident against his mother, and neither did his father. Lucina had seemed hesitant about forgiving their mother, but eventually she had too. Why couldn't everyone else simply move on?
Cynthia had reassured him that she didn't believe in the rumours, that Leaf was a stronger person than that, but there had been an edge to her voice, indicating her unease. Owain had presented him with the same response, and that merely made Morgan feel unsteady. His father didn't help either; while Chrom was the commander and had a lot of duties to take care of, Morgan often spotted him staring at his mother, but the two of them hardly spoke to one another, contrasting to before, when they were almost always together, talking about past and future battles, laughing at memories.
Something glinted in the darkness and Morgan narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the object. His mother's silhouette was sketched out by the moonlight and faintly could he make out the outline of a sword. His eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, agitation gripping him. Something moved and he watched as his mother got up, walked over a few paces before settling down in the clearing again. Morgan exhaled a breath he didn't know he had been holding, relief flooding him. For once, he felt strangely awake with no trace of tiredness or sleepiness tugging him away. This was the first time he had seen his mother do more than simply sit there, and he was anxious to see what she was going to do next.
Something was clearly bugging her, and he wanted to know what it was, so that he could help her. It had been four days since Morgan had last conversed with his mother. After the battle at the Dragon's Table, she had drifted steadily away from everyone, making it hard for him to speak with her. Now, he didn't even know what he could say to her; there was so much he wanted to say, but the words never could form. Knowing his mother, she probably had heard the rumours circulating around camp, and Morgan wanted to tell her to not to believe them, that they were a lie, but he never could. The rumours made him angry; he wanted to tell anyone that believed in them that they were wrong, that his mother would never harm them, but he didn't have any proof to back up his claim. All he had was his Arcthunder tome and a steel sword, but Morgan could never resort to violence; the soldiers would merely use it against him, going on to say her blood ran through his veins, leading to his violent outbursts. As much as Morgan wanted to silence anyone that dare doubt his mother, he couldn't.
He didn't know what he could do to cheer up his mother; seeing her in such a state saddened him, but being unable to speak with her made him feel even worse. Why was her being a vessel for Grima such a big deal? Why was everyone on edge about it? Hadn't she proved that she was trustworthy already? No one had ever doubted Leaf before her relationship with Validar and Grima had been revealed, and Morgan simply didn't understand why everyone's opinions were changing. As far as he knew, she was still the same person that had led them successfully through many battles. Nothing about her had changed; only the fog that had surrounded her history had been lifted.
Morgan slowly inched forward, getting closer to the edge of where the trees met open grass. Each step he took caused his heart to pound in his chest, a feeling of foreboding filling him. The night was silent, and except for the constant sounds of his breathing, it remained so. His mother was quiet, not saying anything, at least, nothing that he could hear. The moonlight surrounded her, reflecting off of the blade she held. Seeing the sword out in the open like that made him uncomfortable; while his mother normally carried it with her at all times in case of ambushes, she always kept it sheathed, preferring to use tomes instead.
He had inherited the ability to be able to use tomes from his mother and his skill with swords from his father, and like his mother, Morgan always kept his sword at his side, just in case of emergency, but at that moment, he had nothing with him, except his cloak. Pulling it closer to his body, he inched forward some more, standing behind the tree nearest his mother. From her posture, he knew that she had her eyes closed, most likely lost in thought, and Morgan was tempted to leave his hiding spot, to talk to her, to confront and comfort her, but he didn't.
Instead, he kept still, watching and waiting to see what would happen. It was then that his mother's arm shifted, the hand holding the sword moving upward. Her voice filled the air as murmurs left her mouth. "Morgan, you'll be a fantastic tactician; there is no more I can teach you."
He wanted to protest, but words died in his throat, leaving him to simply stare at his mother's figure. She continued to talk about Lucina and his father, speaking as if they were there with her. Morgan didn't know what was going on or why she was saying such things. There was still so much she could teach him, it didn't even have to do with tactics! All he wanted was to spend more time with her, to make more memories to fill the gaps in his memory. He wanted to be with her, along with Lucina and his father, so they could be a complete family.
At that moment, Morgan noticed the sword, raised above her. Nothing made sense for him, but nothing mattered then. Adrenaline filled him and he leapt out of his hiding spot, running as fast as he could. "Mother!"
A/N: And here's to hoping there aren't any contradictions or anything in this.
Happy Leafing~