Author's Note: I was partway through a Henry-centric story when the idea for this struck me. I'm sure you all could use a bit of levity after how heavy that last chapter was. At any rate, I enjoyed writing this quite a bit.

Gerome coughed into his hand. "Morgan? Might I have a word?"

Morgan stopped to look at him, then scowled and turned away with a huff. "Maybe... And maybe NOT!"

Gerome blinked. "Er, are you angry at me?"

Morgan wheeled around, an upset look on her face. "I went to a LOT of time and trouble to make those masks for you! And you just ran away! RAN! At top speed over hill and dale!"

Gerome winced. In an unsolicited effort to help Gerome be more expressive with his feelings, Morgan had designed and crafted a large number of masks, each fashioned to convey a specific emotion. Gerome had been less than enthused about the idea. He knew she meant well, but she had a tendency to go completely overboard whenever she got excited. Which was frequent.

Truth be told, Gerome refused the masks because Morgan's fashion sense was somehow even more terrible than Lucina's, something Gerome had thought utterly impossible. Of course, he would never, ever say this out loud.

"I know you are upset, but I simply cannot wear your masks." Gerome felt his heart sink as Morgan began to pout. "…Perhaps, however, it would offer some measure of apology if I removed this one?" He asked, pointing to his ever-present mask.

"...You'd do that?"

Gerome nodded. "If you are so determined to know what I am feeling, this is the easiest way."

"I dunno," Morgan muttered. "My masks are pretty great. I just finished Miffed last night... Ah, what's it matter?" Morgan asked deflatedly. "You don't need my masks if you walk around all barefaced."

Gerome shook his head. "This is not for everyone, Morgan. It is for you alone." With that, he removed his mask.

Morgan's jaw dropped. "SAAAAAAAAY!" She had known Gerome was a looker, but she hadn't been expecting this!

Gerome coughed nervously. "Well. Here I am. In the flesh, so to speak."

"Hubba hubba! Awoooooo-ga!" Morgan continued. Gerome flushed. He was used to being the target of female attention (much to Inigo's chagrin), but he had never been on the receiving end of such an enthusiastic reaction. Especially not from the woman he was in love with.

"Hee hee!" Morgan laughed. "I KNEW it! You're turning red as a boiled ham!"

Gerome's hand shot up to his face. "Even my nose?!"

"Especially your nose!" She giggled. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

Gerome looked away bashfully. "I suppose it's because..." Bracing himself, he took the plunge. "Well, I like you. Very much, in fact." He glanced back up nervously.

Morgan's eyes went wide with delight. "Seriously? Because I suppose it's obvious, but I...um...like you, too."

Gerome smiled his first genuine smile in years, then abruptly leaned in and kissed Morgan. They parted after a few seconds, both breathing a bit heavily. "Er..." Gerome uttered. He wasn't used to being so spontaneous.

Morgan blushed as she fidgeted a bit. "...This is embarrassing, isn't it?"

Gerome smiled again. "I see you're turning red as well."

" Er, I don't suppose I could maybe... borrow your mask?"

Gerome laughed. "Use your own! You have a whole bag of them right there!"

"Oh, right," Morgan exclaimed, rummaging through her bag. "Here, you can have the butterfly one, because you're so jolly..." she said, proffering the mask. She began to blush a bit harder. "And I'll wear this one with the hearts, because I'm feeling so... excited."

"Morgan, dear, do you have a mask for 'murderous'"?

"Uh, not quite yet. I had some technical difficulties with it. Why do you ask, Dad? …D-D-D-DAD?!"

Gerome wheeled around, reflexively slapping his default mask back onto his face. There stood Robin. A specified mask was not needed to display his intent. He smiled at Gerome in a predatory fashion.

"Wh-wha-what are you doing here, Dad?!" Morgan stammered.

"Good question! I should probably be with your mother or Chrom right now so that I'll have an alibi when Gerome here turns up face-down in a ditch tomorrow!"

Gerome chalked it up to temporary fear-induced hallucination, but he could've sworn that for a brief moment Robin's eyes had glinted red and his face had become shrouded in darkness.

Gerome gulped nervously. "R-Robin, s-sir. I wish to declare my intentions towards your daughter."

"Come, come, Gerome! I didn't expect this from you! You had wanted to keep yourself at arm's length, removed from this time, hadn't you? How about I remove you from it permanently?"

"Dad, wait!" Morgan cried.

"MINERVA, TO ME!" Gerome screamed.

The elder Minerva swooped in and landed in front of Robin, shrieking as she made to defend her master. Robin just kept smiling his most malicious grin, and without blinking reached out and scratched Minerva in that one particular spot just beneath her nostrils. The wyvern's eyes went wide as she began to hum, and she rolled over onto her side as Robin's hand trailed up a series of especially itchy areas, his eyes never leaving a now visibly stricken Gerome.

"You forget who you're dealing with, Gerome. Did you really think I hadn't developed a contingency plan for Minerva after all this time?" Electricity began to crackle at the fingertips of Robin's free hand. Gerome backed away slowly.

Morgan was about to attempt to step in when a second wyvern touched down, her rider in full-on protective-mother mode.

"Minerva says she heard Gerome crying out for help." Cherche called from atop her mount. "Would you care to explain why you look as if you're about to set my son on fire, Robin?"

"Hey now, I was not about to set him on fire," Robin retorted. "I was going to electrocute him. Then I was going to set him on fire."

"Hmm. How distressing," Cherche commented as she dismounted. "I came here expecting to find my son in danger, and instead I find an incident that threatens the entire army."

"…What?"

"It's just that I'm concerned that the Shepherds will have a difficult time winning their battles moving forward, since their tactician is going to be deceased quite shortly." At this the younger Minerva hissed threateningly.

"Ha! Please Cherche, I've already dealt with one Minerva today. What makes you think a second is going to slow me down?!"

"Why, whoever said anything about Minerva killing you?" Cherche smiled sweetly as she hefted her axe.

"…Uh-oh."

"Honestly, Robin. You would think you of all people would be more understanding about this situation," Cherche admonished. Robin rubbed his ear gingerly where she had grabbed him by it before dragging him to make him sit down on a log. Morgan and Gerome had watched in stunned silence; they were relieved Robin and Cherche hadn't actually come to blows, but they had never seen Robin cowed so quickly before. Now they were just standing off to the side awkwardly, not really knowing what to do.

"Yeah, you're right. Now I get exactly why Chrom threatened me with bodily harm all of those times."

"I understand being protective of your child, but you're being ridiculous, Robin. This reminds me of when Chrom tried to rope us all into 'Operation: Morgan's Gonna Have to Find a Different Future to Come From'."

"What?!"

Cherche cleared her throat. "Perhaps I've said too much. At any rate, Robin, you and Gerome are going to sit here and have a pleasant, mature conversation about my son's relationship with your daughter."

Gerome moved to protest. "Mother, I-"

"Gerome." Robin and Morgan both shuddered involuntarily.

"Y-yes, Mother."

"As for you," Cherche continued as she turned to Robin. "If I find even so much as a single hair misplaced on my son's head, I'll-"

"Feed me to Minerva. Yeah yeah, I know," Robin interrupted.

"No, I'll feed parts of you to Minerva. I'll get creative with what's left. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my patrol." With that the vassal turned and walked back to her wyvern.

"…Does everybody in this army threaten to kill each other?" Gerome muttered.

"It's how you know we care about one another," Robin joked. "…And for the record, I could totally beat your mother in a fight if I wanted to."

"Uh-huh. Morgan, could you please hand me the 'skeptical' mask?"

"And I can definitely still kill you," Robin threatened darkly. "I wonder if I can burn off your entire face off without ruining that mask of yours?" He pondered, scratching his chin in mock contemplation.

"Dad! Would you please stop threatening him? Can't you talk about this like an actual grown-up?"

"Honey, Daddy recognizes that you are a grown woman who has the right to love whomever she does. That said, you are forbidden from dating until you're twenty-seven, whenever that might be."

Robin had only been half-joking, but his laugh died in his throat as Morgan's lip began to quiver and tears began to well up in the corner of her eyes.

"Ah geez, wait Morgan, I-"

"You're such a jerk sometimes, Dad!"

Robin reeled back as if he had been struck.

"I'm the happiest I've been since I found you and Mom, and you don't even care! You're too busy having your little freakout to even consider how I feel, or to think about what I want! Would you have wanted Mom treated like this?!"

Robin winced. …Ok, maybe he was overreacting a little. He got up, walking over to a shaking Morgan. "I'm sorry, Morgan," he said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "You're right, I'm not being fair to you. I'm not handling this well because this being a father thing is still kind of new to me, and my primary frame of reference on the subject is a genocidal maniac who I don't even know that well. I don't want to see you get hurt, but I shouldn't smother you either. Can you forgive me?"

Morgan allowed herself to be pulled into a hug, grumbling under her breath.

"…Mask."

"…Huh?" Robin asked.

"I want you to promise you're going to give me and Gerome a fair chance. While wearing one of my masks."

"…You can't be serious," Robin stated matter-of-factly, holding Morgan at arm's length while looking at her. "Why do I have to wear one of these things?"

Morgan pouted, nudging her satchel of masks towards him with her foot. "Someone has to..."

"Ugh. Fine," Robin relented. "Where's the 'I'm only putting up with this to placate my eccentric time-child daughter' mask?"

Morgan dug through the bag. "Here, you can wear Sincere," Morgan pronounced, handing Robin a white mask with sparkles and polka dots all over it. He held it gingerly as if it were some diseased vermin. Good gods, how was Morgan's taste so gaudy? Robin found Lucina's utter lack of understanding about fashion sense adorable, but even he had limits.

"…Go ahead. Put it on," She prompted. Hand shaking slightly, Robin reluctantly complied.

"…Wellllll?" She asked expectantly.

"…I promise that I won't hurt Gerome and that we'll have a legitimate conversation about your relationship. There. Better?"

Morgan rushed forward and kissed Robin on the cheek. "Yup! Thanks Dad!"

Robin smiled at his daughter. "Why don't you see if you can help your mother out with dinner duty?"

"Ok! Love you Dad!"

"Love you too, dear."

With that Morgan bounded off. As soon as she was out of sight Robin hastily removed the mask and dropped it in the pouch. He walked back to the log where Gerome had sat silently observing them the whole time, dropping down to sit with a heavy sigh. Neither said a word for a few minutes, before Robin finally broke the awkward quiet.

"…So. Why should I trust you with my daughter?"

Gerome sighed. "…I had told Morgan that this was a gesture I would not give any save for her, but I wish you to know my sincerity. Please do not tell her about this."

Robin couldn't help but quirk his eyebrows in surprise as Gerome removed his mask, staring at Robin intensely.

"I…I had given up hope on reclaiming our future. Having seen Grima up close, I had thought it impossible to prevail against him. He is more terrifying that you can ever know, Robin. He is despair incarnate, the envoy of hell. When I traveled back with Lucina, I held no illusions about succeeding. Far greater men and women than we had failed utterly. What chance did a ragtag group of children have?"

Robin sat silently, digesting this information as he watched Gerome. It was so bizarre seeing how animated the young man's face could be; having relied on the mask to hide his feelings for so long, it was clear that without it he was devoid of subterfuge.

"I separated myself from the others after we arrived. I had joined them for my own selfish reasons… I had no noble aspirations; I simply wished to spend what time I had been given with Minerva before our doom descended upon us once more. I avoided you all, my parents especially, because I refused to reunite with my loved ones only to have them torn from my life yet again. I was a shell of a man, living as if already dead. I spurned my mother and my father when you found me, and only joined your cause with great reluctance. I believed it all to be a fool's errand, a futile gesture in the face of unchangeable fate."

Gerome suddenly smiled. "And then I met Morgan. Proof that our future could be changed. For the first time in years, I felt the faint light of hope once more. But I stifled it, refusing to open myself up. I tried to keep my distance from her as well. Of course, Morgan is not the type of person who allows herself to be kept away. She was persistent in reaching out to me, and I felt myself inexplicably drawn towards her. Perhaps it was because my heart had been left in disuse for so long that it took me some time to realize my feelings for her… But know this, Robin. Morgan is no longer a symbol of a brighter future to me. She is the future that I strive for."

Robin snorted. Well that sounded familiar. Was this how Chrom had felt during their talk? …Still, Morgan could do much worse than Gerome. As much as the man pretended to be aloof, Robin knew he was protective of his friends and fiercely loyal, and Lucina held him in high esteem. Having Virion as a brother-in-law wouldn't be terrible either.

Robin sighed. "Gerome, please hand me the 'I still kind of want to strangle you but I'm going to give you a chance so don't screw this up' mask."

Gerome stared at Robin blankly. "Umm…"

Robin rolled his eyes. "Yes, I realize that's not an actual mask, you dolt. Look, I know the whole 'falling in love with a time traveler' thing isn't easy. I get it. I really do. So I'm willing to give you a bit of slack here. Just be grateful I'm not your best friend." He coughed awkwardly. "...Also, I should probably make it clear I wasn't actually trying to kill you. Just wanted to scare you a little."

Gerome smiled. "Thank you, Rob-"

"That said," Robin interrupted. "If you ever do anything to hurt my little girl, that mask you wear will be the only way they'll be able to identify your corpse."

Gerome gulped and nodded frantically. "Y-yessir."

Robin got to his feet, brushing off his cloak. "Welp, glad we had this little chat. You can go find Morgan now. I'm sure she'd appreciate some assurance that I haven't done away with you or something. You're allowed to hold hands. …And one kiss a day. But that's it. Anything more and I'll beat the everliving hell out of you."

Gerome nodded and slipped his mask back on as he stood up. His usual stoic expression immediately settled back on his face. "Thank you, Robin. I swear to you, I will make her happy." With that he turned and strode purposefully towards the mess tent where Morgan had headed.

Robin sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "You had damn well better."

"Honestly, you are such a child sometimes," Lucina chuckled later that night. "You're acting just like Father did when he found out about us."

"Yeah, well, let's just say I'm a bit more understanding of Chrom's point of view now. …Not that that would have ever kept me from you," Robin whispered huskily as he embraced her from behind.

Lucina giggled, placing her hands over Robin's and leaning her head against his as it rested on her shoulder. "Well, at any rate, I'm glad Morgan fell in love with someone we can trust. Gerome is a good man and a close friend. It will be a bit strange adjusting to him being our son-in-law, but for Morgan's sake I'm sure we can manage."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way. Say, Lucina, how do you feel about the prospect of being a grandmother in a couple of years?"

Lucina's eyes went wide as she spun in Robin's arms to face him. "…Gerome must die. It's the only option."

Robin began laughing heartily as Lucina buried her face in his chest, mortified.

"…So yeah, Chrom. I just wanted to let you know I forgive you for the whole 'I'll kill you if you touch my daughter' thing you had going on with me. I kind of know where you were coming from now."

Chrom chuckled as he slapped Robin on the back. The tactician had insisted on joining him on the morning patrol the day after Morgan and Gerome had confessed to each other.

"Just be glad your daughter fell in love with someone you and Lucina actually like. What if she had fallen for Vaike?" Chrom shuddered.

Robin cringed. He was actually a bit fond of the musclehead, but there was no way in hell he would ever let "The Teach" touch his daughter. "Yeah, I guess you're right… You know, technically this will make Gerome your grandson," Robin pointed out.

"Heh. Well, when Gerome Jr. comes bouncing along, I'll at least be able to remind you that you're a grandpa," Chrom teased.

"Sure thing, great-grandfather," Roblin replied without missing a beat.

Chrom stopped dead in his tracks.

Ah. But- He… I…

Robin paused, turning to where his friend and father-in-law stood. "Chrom? Are you… are you crying?" He asked in disbelief.

"N-no! *sniff* …Sh-shut up!"