"And his last words were about his mustache. Who does that?"

"Kjelle, it's not our place to tell others what should be important in their lives."

"No… but gods it ruins a good fight to have the other person die saying something stupid. Was Walhart any better?"

Lucina nodded.

"I've never faced anyone so determined! I know I should feel… guilty about this. Lives are a precious currency, and people can't be replaced, but..."

"I know."

Kjelle stretched and rose to her feet.

"But the war's over. Has Chrom said how long we're helping with the reconstruction before heading home to make sure Grima never awakens?"

"A while. There's… plenty to do. I'm sure you could find something."

Before Lucina could clarify what something was, Cynthia stumbled in.

"Duh duh duh duh! The hero arrives!"

"Late, as usual."

"Aw, that was one time!"

"You got lost in the middle of a battle! If…"

Lucina glared at Kjelle.

"If you make that mistake again it could be a problem."

"Don't worry about it. Good always triumphs!"

Lucina coughed

"As pleasant as this is, do you remember why you came here? I'm sure Kjelle has important things she could be doing."

"Oh, yeah! Kjelle, you know what every hero needs?"

"Armor."

"Nope!"

"You win. I can't guess."

Unspoken subtext "Please go away". The please was a recent addition, but Kjelle was working on her manners.

"It's a surprise."

Kjelle grunted and turned to Lucina.

"I'm sure Robin needs…"

Unspoken subtext "Please don't make me spend time with Cynthia." A second please in one day. A new record.

"At the moment, mother has things well in hand. I'm sure she'd be happy to let you and Cynthia spend more time together."

"Thanks, Lucy! Come on!"

Cynthia dragged Kjelle behind her.

"Close your eyes."

"Why should I do that? A knight on a battlefield should have all her senses ready. Otherwise, she's as good as dead."

"But a hero has to give her enemies a fighting chance. Please?"

"Fine."

Arguing with Cynthia took forever. Indulging her, at worst, resulted in a few new scars. Kjelle was used to scars. They were quick. She closed her eyes and followed. Cynthia tripped and stumbled a few times, but Kjelle was able to keep her on her feet for most of the journey. And when she stopped, all Kjelle had to do was wait for the ta-da before she could remove her blindfold and be done with whatever stupid thing Cynthia was doing now.

"Ta-Da!"

Kjelle looked at the small town, and a cluster of people in the streets.

"What am I looking at?"

But Cynthia was in the middle of the crowd.

"I thought we had a banner!"

"Err… the thing of it is… that is…"

Oh. Oh gods no. Sweet, merciful Naga, guardian of all mankind, no. Morgan.

"Here it is!"

And it fell between two buildings.

"Kjelle's Squires!"

Naga had abandoned her, then. It was going to happen sooner or later. Everyone else had, why should a goddess be an exception?

Cynthia rushed back over.

"A real hero needs a fan club! It turned out a lot of people were really impressed with a 'lady knight' who fought off Walhart's best, so I told them who you were and… ta-da!"

"And Morgan helped."

"Uh-huh!"

Of course. Empty heads clanging together would naturally make something like this. It was bad enough when they were working on their own. That's how Morgan briefly became her squire and Cynthia… well, there were too many Cynthia 'incidents' to recount them all. This was going to be a nightmare.

"Cynthia, why did you think any of this was a good idea?"

"Morgan thought it was a good idea."

"And why did Morgan think it was a good idea?"

"Because it sounded heroic."

"And why did he think it sounded heroic?"

"Because I said it sounded like a good… idea."

"So, neither of you can remember who came up with it or why?"

"I guess not! It's that way with all really great ideas. I bet Naga sent it!"

Kjelle buried her face in her hands.

"I'll go talk to them."

Her armor clanked and clattered down the hill. She'd need to work on it as soon as this disaster was contained and out of her hair. If it was making noise, it could announce her position before she would. There might be honor in telling the enemy where you were and taking them on in a fair fight. There wasn't any in giving your position away to their ballistae before you could charge their lines.

"Morgan."

"Yes, boss!"

"I told you I needed a better squire than one scrawny armed princeling who couldn't carry me halfway to the medical tent if I was dragging myself."

"I know."

"Which is why you gave up."

And they were both better off for it.

"Which is why I thought about what mom would do. It's our bonds that bring us together, right? So if no-one was good enough to be your squire… maybe more than one would be."

"And how did Cynthia get involved?"

"I thought maybe if I practiced with someone less manly… I mean, err, not that you're not womanly, but…"

"Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Shutting up."

Kjelle looked over the rest of the crowd. Mostly they were the standard peasant rabble that even Morgan could outfight. She'd been a real squire to a real knight when they were still hiding beneath their beds, and now they were trying for an imitation at the orders of the most pathetic excuse for royalty she'd ever knew how this worked. You tell them to run home. That the trouble was over, and they'd never matter. They'd just get in her way. She'd tried to train weaklings and cowards into something, but it never made a difference except missing time she could have spent training one of the few people she knew could get results. IE, Kjelle.

But then she looked down at Morgan again. Lucina had been mad enough the last time Kjelle told off her little brother, and that was with a good excuse. Not something she wanted to deal with again. If she could make Morgan quit on his own, then maybe that could be avoided. She nodded.

"So, you want to be squires? You want to see what it means to be a knight?"

Morgan nudged the girl nearest him. She jumped.

"Yes ma'am!"

"Then prepare for pain. A knight's life in training is constant misery. The greatest honor needs the greatest dedication. From now on, consider your lives my property."

The whole crowd shivered. Good. She was off to a fine start. Morgan nudged the girl again.

"Do we report to barracks, ma'am?"

"Do you have barracks?"

"Yes sir, I mean ma'am!"

"Where are they?"

The girl gestured to one of the houses nearby. Kjelle marched in. It must have been evacuated when the first armies swept through. People must have expected Chrom to burn the whole place to the ground and do worse to anyone who wasn't smart enough to run. In other words, they were expecting bandits. She'd almost take it as an insult if it wasn't for the standards they must have come to expect from Walhart and company. Pitiful.

There was a bag of gold on the counter. Under it, she saw a note.

"Official tactician business use. Thank you. If this is too little payment, please write to…"

If she found stupid cute, she'd be making out with the little idiot right now. Unfortunately for him, mostly she found it tiresome.

The girl and Morgan followed her in. Morgan nudged her again.

"We…"

"Morgan, are you having someone else say whatever stupid thing is going through your head?"

Morgan tried to look innocent. Unfortunately, as innocent was his default state, any deviation stood out like a signal flare.

"You can talk again. Just don't say anything stupid. "

Kjelle hoped that it wasn't an oxymoron.

"I was going to show you the barracks. If that's okay ma'am!"

"Keep it quick."

Morgan nodded and walked upstairs. He gestured for Kjelle to follow. It wasn't what she expected. But maybe she should have.

The bunks were in keeping with royal standards, not civilian, let alone military. The curtains cost more than most of the house would have before Morgan started on it. Just looking at the beds was a better sleep than Kjelle had in months. Say what you like about Morgan, and Kjelle would join in given half a chance, but he knew how to make a room feel cozy.

"Morgan, you put a lot of effort into this."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Bring the… 'squires' in. They all need to see something."

Morgan smiled at his work as he left. When he was gone, Kjelle looked around the most comfortable room she'd seen in her life.

It had to go.

Morgan dashed back up the stairs with his new 'friends', smiling the whole time.

"They're here."

"Good. Now, you all see the work Morgan has done on this room."

She gave them a moment to soak in the ambiance.

"A knight doesn't need any of it. Every squire's first assignment is to dispose of this crap and build their own bed frame out of scrap wood. If I see one scrap of fabric when I come back, if I see one hint of softness, then you're all going to sleep outside."

One of the squires coughed.

"But ma'am… it's winter."

"And if this was Ferox, that might matter. I thought you wanted to be knights. That means no weakness. Anything that won't kill you you can endure."

"This winter could kill…"

"Vegetables. And not much else. Get to work. Now."

Kjelle left the room to moans of agony, complaints about the work and the expected conditions, and the same sort of whining that Sully always told her would come from the slackers that made up the bulk of any recruiting crop. Fine. The whole point was to make people drop out, and it seemed she was off to a good start.

By the time she returned, a good third of the group was gone. She didn't expect to see them again. She looked over the room and smiled. Every scrap of creature comfort was gone. Chrom wouldn't want to sleep here, and if you invited any other royal in, they'd hang you for treason and possibly attempted murder. It was a miserable hell of a room, and any recruits that could break would break here. Around the fringes, some of the 'squires' seemed broken already.

Then she looked in the center and saw Morgan. He was smiling. And saluting.

"Ready as ordered ma'am!"

"...Good work."

Morgan smiled more than Kjelle had ever seen him smile before. And considering that it was Morgan, that meant something.

"Everyone else, you can have three hours to sleep. Your training will begin before sunrise."

She waited for the groan. When it came, she continued.

"That's three hours more than you'll get for the rest of your training. Make good use of it."

Morgan coughed before the rest of the 'squires' could attempt a revolt. It didn't much matter, of course. She could put the lot of them down without straining her pinkie. But he had something to say that wasn't 'unfaiiir', so she might as well here it.

"Yes?"

"I prepared a bunk for you too, ma'am! I mean, if that's…"

Morgan closed his mouth without being prompted. It was almost like he was learning!

"Don't worry. I'm not sleeping in one."

Three.

Two.

One.

On cue, one of the younger recruits started muttering under his breath.

"I knew it. Nan told me about this. Enlisted sleep in the dirt. Officers get the fancy stuff."

Kjelle walked over to the wall in her armor. Leaned against it. Closed her eyes. And thought about just how wrong that idiot would feel in a few seconds.

She woke up exactly three hours later. No-one else was out of bed, which meant they were about to hate her even more than they already did, which meant it was an excellent way to kick off training.

"Rise and shine. This is a beautiful morning for a run!"

There were fewer people in the party at the end of the run than there were at the start.

The next few days were a blur of pain and irritation for everyone but Kjelle. Endurance exercises, pushups, situps, training with all the armor and weapons she could procure on short notice. Her squires weren't knights, by the gods most of them would never get close, but by the end? They were godsdamned SQUIRES. It was almost enough to forget the point of the exercise hadn't been met. Morgan was still there.

Well, he was a stubborn little idiot. That almost made sense. Everyone else, well, they didn't make sense. They were peasants. They existed to get pushed around by bandits or get in her way when she was pushing the bandits back. If one or two of them had the makings of a knight, that would just be the law of averages in play. When nearly half the group held on through all the hell she could think of? That probably meant something. She could try to puzzle it out through listening to whatever stupid things they said in their own time, of course. But that involved caring what they said on their own time. The alternative was just asking. On top of the obvious benefits, she'd already run out of other things to talk about. Robin only had so many team building speeches to steal, and her mother's motivational talks mostly consisted of swearing.

Kjelle tried a few of those. They just made Morgan curl up into a ball and whimper.

She stepped in front of the huddled, moaning mass of her squires.

"Good. One last question for the day, and maybe I'll let you sleep. What was this really about?"

Morgan rolled in Kjelle's general direction.

"Wow you're pretty…"

"Morgan, stop talking."

"And there are three of you?"

"Fine. Morgan, you can sleep now. Everyone else, answer the question."

"Thank you. Zzzzz."

He actually made that noise. Kjelle shook her head. How Morgan pronounced a series of "Z"s while sleeping was rather low on the mysteries of Morgan scale. It could wait.

"Answers. Now."

One of the girls staggered forward.

"We… like you?"

"That doesn't explain why you're taken six days straight of abuse."

"You do it to yourself all the time."

For a peasant, she was far too perceptive. Especially on that level of sleep.

"I'm a knight. If suffering meant anything to me compared to being a godsdamned knight, then I wouldn't be a knight. If I minded dying for what I believed in, I wouldn't be a knight. Too many of you have dropped out to believe this was all about honor, and too few have dropped out for me to believe you're doing this for fun. Answers. Now."

"We… needed you. Or, well, any knight."

Kjelle nodded.

"And, well, you were an army, and most of you wouldn't care about cleaning up after, but then this crazy blue haired boy ran around talking about how this beautiful knight went around helping anyone in need, and…"

"Gods. You shouldn't have listened to him."

The girl blushed.

"He was right about how good looking you were, anyway."

"And he was right I'll deal with whatever bandits were stupid enough to attack somewhere under Chrom's protection, but you could have asked. Get some sleep. I'll sort things out in the morning."

Kjelle shook her head. Lucina, for all her virtues as a leader, was making her too soft by half. Eight hours later, she revised the assessment. At minimum, she was too soft by three quarters.

She gave her squires three hours more sleep than she'd ever needed. And some of them were still in their bunks! Two years ago, she'd have tossed the lot of them out into the cold and given up on the whole thing. Six months ago, she stopped even trying to make Brady into a contributing member of the army for less. And here she was, almost indulging them.

"Get up. Today, we're putting your training into practice. Anyone who spends one more second in their bunk should get out of my sight before we come back if they like living."

Almost.

The whole group fell into position before she finished the sentence, and they were marching before anyone else in Chrom's army was out of bed. For the first time in her memory, Kjelle was glad she listened to Cynthia. At least this was something to do while waiting for negotiations and reparations to end. A little talk with her new clatter of assistants found her the bandit hideaway, and an hour's march took them to the cave.

Kjelle was not impressed. Even the rabble that fooled Cynthia had a better setup. She could leave this to Morgan and the rest. A real knight had better things to do.

"This is it? You're living in fear of these pathetic excuses for bandits?"

The bandits did not look like they agreed.

"Watch it, girl."

"Really? That's it? You can't even do threats right. I'll make things simple. This village is protected. There's a whole knightly order waiting in the wings, with a royal sponsor. Run, take up an honest life somewhere, and none of us will bother to hunt you down and kill you like dogs."

"Big talk."

"We can back it. You have 48 hours before we return. Use it."

"Oh, and I'm sure your high and mighty king cares about a few bandits. Even Walhart let some things slide, if you greased the right palms. What's the new administration gonna do?"

Morgan stepped forward.

"Err… we're going to tell you to leave again."

"Is that all? Who is this little brat?"

Kjelle shook her head. She'd promised royal backing. She had hoped she wouldn't need to show what royalty she had. Chrom and Lucina, they would have been fine. Even if they weren't the Exalt, they would have been knights, and damn fine ones. Emmeryn and Lissa, if they were around, might not be as martially minded, but at least they could speak with authority. Even Owain could, on very rare occasions, convince someone his idiotic rambling was the mark of a leader instead of the mark of an imbecile. But no. She had Morgan.

And now she'd have to try to make the best of it.

"That's Prince Morgan of Ylisse and a better man than you could ever dream of being."

"That's a prince?"

Kjelle had to admit the man had a point. She wouldn't have believed it either.

"Mom says I am. And she's almost always right."

Kjelle tried not to sigh.

"What matters is that, even if you could hold us off, he could send his father's armies here. They crushed Walhart. What makes you think you'd do any better? Come on. We're leaving."

Morgan trundled next to her.

"They didn't know who you were."

"They didn't need to. A knight cares about being the best. Once you are, the people who matter will know. Yelling about how great you are just looks pathetic."

"Right! And you don't want to give anything away. Mom always said that. The key to victory is…"

"Bonds. She's given me that speech. So has Lucina."

"I was going to say knowing something the enemy doesn't. But bonds work too! Still, we should check on them soon. Bandits aren't always trustworthy."

Kjelle considered gluing her gauntlet to her face. If she was going to spend much longer around Morgan, it would save a lot of time.

The rest of the day was standard. Drills. Training. Pushing every limit she had.

By the evening, she was tired and her squires were all at least three quarters dead. Life was good. It almost made up for the dreams.

They were the same every time, more or less. Oh, it might start in childhood, or training with her master, or with the Shepherds. But that was just flavoring. What mattered was that someone would say something wrong, and their eyes would go dark and they'd start moaning and shuffling.

Her mother, or Severa, or someone else that mattered would still be fighting. Whoever it was and Kjelle would be together, back to back. Holding the tide. Then Grima would arrive, and she wouldn't be strong enough anymore. Just a little too slow, a little too weak, a little too raw. Grima would attack the last person she had to care about and she'd have to watch it happen.

The only thing worth mentioning this time was that Morgan was the one who nearly made it to the end. And there were people screaming for him.

"MORGAN'S GONE!"

Why did they even bother? Some day she'd see that stupid wyrm again and show it she was strong enough now. Strong enough not to be afraid. At this point, the dreams were just irritating.

Grima was gone, and the yelling wasn't. Kjelle opened her eyes to see her squires running around like idiots. Odd. She was almost always the first one up.

"Morgan's…"

Oh.

"I should have known he couldn't handle it."

Brady broke. Yarne broke. Why should Morgan be different? She picked up a note outside the door and prepared for a litany of pathetic excuses.

"We have the prince! If Chrom wants to see his brat alive again BACK OFF."

Pathetic, but not what Kjelle was expecting.

"What do we do, what do we do?"

"First, you can stop embarrassing me. Then, I'm going to remind this scum why they should have tucked their tails between their legs when I gave them the chance."

Her squires didn't like this forced march any more than the last few times, but this time Kjelle saw more fear than exhaustion. Well, if they kept moving, she didn't care. They arrived at the cave in record time. Kjelle held up her hand. She could go in alone. She might not be the best scout, but her recruits were even worse.

Her armor was quieter than it ever was before. She'd meant to get around to fixing the squeak, but it seemed like it fixed itself while she was busy with Cynthia's inane pet project. Good old armor. If she couldn't trust anything else, she could rely on it.

A few bandits were talking deeper in. Kjelle paused to listen.

"He's still saying we'll never get away with it."

"Stupid little brat."

"What do you expect from someone idolizing knights? Dastards the lot of 'em. Walhart might have been a monster, but he was the real thing. Knights, they're soft. Kid talks about how his dad's nice, figure he's more of the same."

Robin would probably say that avenging an insult wasn't that important. Gerome would say to stay in the shadows. Lucina would put her brother's safety ahead of personal desires.

But they weren't here. Kjelle was.

"Dastards? I challenge both of you. Right now."

Both bandits turned.

"Kill her?"

"Read my mind."

Kjelle readied her lance. The first bandit charged. A lance wasn't ideal against an axe, but the bandit wasn't protecting his legs. Sweep, stab once to injure and once to finish, focus on the second enemy.

He didn't last much longer. Clumsy. Ill-disciplined. Unarmored. The only martial virtue between the two of them was one good axe.

Kjelle gave it a home in her pack. An honest weapon deserved better.

She continued deeper into the caves. A few bandits ran. A few died. It didn't make much difference which they went for. No-one seemed willing to lay down and surrender, so no-one was getting out alive.

She found the leader of the bandits near Morgan's cell.

"Shut up! I swear to whatever primitive gods you think are going to devour your soul that I will KILL YOU and deal with your father some other way."

"What about mom? She's pretty smart."

"Much smarter than you! I know! Not that it's difficult!"

Kjelle stepped forward. The man froze.

"Let him go."

"You weren't supposed to be here yet."

"And you were supposed to leave."

The bandit looked around the room.

"I expected more company. Ah, doesn't matter. Listened to the brat. I know how you knights think."

"Oh?"

"Bonds. Friendship. The power of teamwork. Makes me sick. But you're alone here, girly. None of your hiding behind others. No-one to help you."

Kjelle laughed.

"Did you believe that?"

"He said you said…"

"Crap I said to try to keep recruits in line. They just slowed me down."

"GUARDS!"

Five on one. If they were better, it might have been a fight. But Kjelle had been practicing. A large group could fall in on itself if the members weren't well trained. A few steps in the right place, and they were almost killing each other. She just helped them along.

Unfortunately, it distracted her from Morgan. And when she was able to look up again, there was a crossbow at his head.

"Don't do anything stupid, or the brat…"

"I offered you a chance at surrender."

"Yeah, well I didn't much like it then. I was earning a living here…"

"Preying on farmers and peasants."

"Circle of life! Well, death now, if you get much closer. See, I was just talking to the brat here…"

"I could kill you before you pull the trigger. Surrender, and I won't kill you."

"Yeah, like a king would just shrug off a guy taking his brat. I know how this works."

"Chrom might forgive you. I won't."

"Now, you can't be fast enough to stop me from pulling the trigger, so…"

He was wrong.

Kjelle wiped the blood from her lance and looked at the door to Morgan's cell.

"Hi Kjelle. Sorry."

"Sorry? SORRY? You get captured, nearly got yourself killed, and all you can say is sorry? Gods you couldn't have done a worse job if you tried."

"I didn't…"

"I don't care. I expect better from my squires."

"I know. I'll get ready to leave."

Morgan looked like a kicked puppy. Kjelle sighed.

Too soft by seven eighths.

"Which is why I'm going to work you twice as hard. Now where's the key?"

Morgan shrugged.

"I dunno. I picked the lock already."

"That's… impressive."

"I practiced being quiet by fixing your arm...or."

"Morgan. What have I said about my armor?"

Morgan gulped.

"Three times as much work."

"Yes ma'am!"

Kjelle sighed. She was covered in blood, just wasted hours of her life on fights that weren't even on par with a good sparring session, and even by her standards she was low on sleep. All that said… well, triple duty and Morgan wasn't running for the hills. He'd gone into danger without backing down. (or thinking it through, but that was more or less what she expected of him anyway.) Maybe she was wrong about him. After all, some weapons always needed a little more polish before they could shine.

Sentimental thinking, of course. But thinking of any kind was tricky when Kjelle was this tired.

She needed a hot bath and a little time alone. Minimum.

Really, this was what came of listening to Cynthia. She really should know better by now.

(Author's notes: So, chapter's done, even if they're coming in a little shorter these days. Don't have much to say about this one. Just thought Kjelle having a fan club could be amusing, and I hope my expectations on the front were correct. It was also a chance to write Morgan (M) without his counterpart around, and I have to say, I kinda like the guy. Not as much fun as Morgan(F) maybe, but he's earnest, a bit dim, and a hard worker, which plays well off Kjelle. Plus, it's nice not to rely on Cynthia every time I need someone to do something absolutely rock stupid.

As always, hope you enjoyed the chapter, if there's anything that stood out as needing improvement let me know, and thanks for reading.)