Work Text:
Chrom's first instinct when he saw the blue-haired boy fighting was to fight his way to the lad.
Before the Shepherds could take another step to help, an abrupt snarl from Panne alerted the approaching enemy. The patrol arrived just in time for the Risen to appear, but the prince had faith in his soldiers to succeed.
Even so, it would have been preferable if they had been warned.
When Chrom heard the swish of wings above, Robin ducked and cast a wind spell on a Wyvern Lord, causing them to fall from the saddle. Lucina guarded their flanks, keeping an eye on the approaching horde with Falchion in her grasp.
The boy in the distance fired a fireball at his own foe, as two Risen drew closer to him. If he didn't get help right away, the lad would quickly become overwhelmed.
“Why is there a treasure hunter all alone? He’s going to get himself killed! ” Robin shouted over the clank of the weapons. The grandmaster had positioned herself in front of the body of water separating them, ready to take off, when Chrom laid a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back gently.
“I’ll go to him! Stay in formation and distract them!” The prince yelled back at Robin, who hesitated before raising her head to the sky.
“Cordelia!” The grandmaster called to the Pegasus Knight in the air, waiting above her partner. “Take Chrom to the other side where the boy is!”
The red-haired knight nodded, glancing down to whisper something to her husband before landing next to the Shepherd’s commander with steely determination. Chrom mounted without a second thought as Cordelia’s pegasus took off while Robin joined Lucina and the reinforcements at the front.
From the sky, Chrom could see the army against their opponents and the ruins. Taking the scene, he found the whole location rather odd.
The ruins glowed with an oddly blue light that emanated from the structure itself. The edifice was remarkably well-preserved for a collection of old ruins, but he had never heard of it outside of the locals' ears. Stairwells and large bodies of water impeded the army’s movements and separated them into tight clusters.
Despite the initial chaos, the troops were divided into their prearranged formations with their partners, most paired with their respective spouses or children. Despite the initial surprise, the prince had complete faith in his soldiers to succeed.
So much for the treasure hunt, the prince thought. The army really needed that coin for the war fund. At the very least, the soldiers would be able to expel the Risen horde before it attacked the nearby villages.
He snapped out of his trance, when he spotted the boy again, already engaging with a foe. “Drop!”
Cordelia’s pegasus landed on the white stone floor with quick efficiency as Chrom leaped out of the saddle and ordered: “Go back and join the others. We’ll regroup after I get the boy out.”
Cordelia, never one to refuse an order, left. Nonetheless, he could see the knight peering at him from afar. Only to vanish into the crowd with their comrades as the oncoming swarm of Risen descended on the Shepherds.
Coming closer to the scene, Chrom noticed that the boy was wearing a long coat. A VERY familiar brown coat with purple and gold trimmings. The sleeves reached the end of the lad’s fingertips until he flicked back the brown and purple fabric to his wrist, activating his tome. The stranger fired another fire spell, killing the Risen and tilting his head in confusion at the foe’s disappearing form.
The lad didn't appear to be in much danger. He appeared to be capable of combat with his tome, and the prince sighted a sword strapped to the boy’s waist. To warn the stranger, Chrom cleared his throat.
The boy turned around. “Mmm. Who are you?”
“I would ask you the same,” The prince replied, troubled for some reason. He tried to shake the doubts away, glancing back at his wife and daughter before responding. “More importantly, why are you here? This is hardly a safe place to be wandering alone.”
The lad appeared to be in his fifteenth year; thirteen at the youngest, if the prince could guess. He reminded him a lot of Ricken when the mage first joined, too young for the taste of battle.
The lad's brow furrowed in concentration as he replied that he awoke in a field with no memory. The presence of the lad bothered Chrom even more as he realized what was going on.
Why did I always find the oddest characters in the strangest situations?
“Morgan?” The lad tapped his temple. “Yes, that’s it. I think my name is Morgan.”
“I'm Chrom. And finding amnesiacs is apparently my special talent. I met someone very dear to me in the same way. Her name is Robin-”
Morgan's brown eyes widened as he heard the name. “Robin? Is this friend of yours perchance a tactician?”
Chrom grew rigid. Did someone finally recognize Robin? No, it was most likely for her role as the Shepherd's tactician. Yet, if the boy wore the same coat as she did and had the same memory loss, he may well have been connected to her. “She is. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I know her! She's my mother!”
For a moment, the world comes to a halt. Chrom took a deep breath and considered what the word implied. Robin. His wife. Mother. Only then did he notice the boy with the familiar coat and amnesia also had blue hair that curled around his ears. The same shade as him and Lucina. The world began to come back into focus.
“Mother?! Then you're our…” he swallowed nervously. “You're my... Morgan, stay calm and listen to me. Robin is my wife. Which means you're likely my son who came here from the future.”
Son. Another child. One that didn’t yet exist in the present time.
“What?! But I... The future?! Is... Is that why I have no memory? But wait, I remember my mother. So why don't I remember you?”
His chest panged at the statement. “I don't know. Do you recall a sister named Lucina?”
Morgan replied "no," growing more agitated.
“I suppose it's a blessing that you at least remember your mother.” The prince assured him, stifling his growing worry. “Maybe something will come back once you've met with her and Lucina. Until then, you'd best come with me… and stay close. I don't want you to get hurt.”
“All right, thank you.” The lad-his son- nodded. “And don't worry—I can defend myself. You just lead the way.”
Trying to shake off the sudden surprise, Chrom continued forward as the Shepherds advanced to the front. He scanned the grounds to find Robin in the lead, along with Lucina. The mother and daughter appear to be doing fine, unaware of anything amiss outside of battle. The prince looked back to find Morgan looking at the soldiers, albeit confused.
“These are the Shepherds,” Chrom found himself explaining as Morgan looked at him, sheepishly. “Don’t fret. They are soldiers that Robin and I command.”
“Oh! That’s how Mother became a tactician. For some reason, I couldn’t fathom who she was leading before. What about you?”
“Pardon?”
“You mentioned that you and Mother lead the troops.” The lad motioned to the army. “By chain of command, that means you’re a high-ranking officer or am I wrong?”
“I’m the commander of the army.” Chrom explained. He was certainly quick witted like Robin. “She is the chief tactician and the grandmaster of our Halidom.”
“Wait, she is grandmaster of a kingdom?” The lad gasped. “Mother must’ve been great to have landed in such a high position!”
“She is.“ The prince remarked, the initial shock fading a bit. Similarly, when he met Robin, he omitted the fact that they were from the Royal House of Ylisse. Adding a royal lineage would add to a growing list of discoveries in such a short period of time that Chrom didn't have time to explain. He didn’t want to shock poor Morgan even more, as the boy seemed enthralled by his mother's position.
A Risen blocked one of the entryways to the staircase. Chrom held his hand back to stop the lad from coming closer, sliding Falchion out of his sheath. “Stay there.”
The lad nodded, clutching a red tome to his chest, his short glee disappearing.
The prince dashed forward, stabbing the axe wielder through the gap between their worn armor. The Risen answered by knocking the sword away with the handle of their axe in a display of raw strength. Chrom’s arm shudders at the impact. Swinging once more, he aimed for their bare torso, nicking the undead’s skin and opening a large wound.
The air began to crackle with energy, a tune that Chrom recognized after being with Robin and Lissa in battle for so long. Surely the beginning of a spell. In the corner of his eye, an undead mage readied their tome.
The prince wrenched Falchion sideways, hoping to gain speed before the spell came. The body fell into the ground, but it was already too late to move out of the spell’s range.
“Not on my watch!”
A body pushed into him, knocking him away from the direction of the blow. The bolt of Elthunder passed the prince by, hitting the water and spraying droplets into the air and onto the pair. Morgan raised his red tome, the script beginning to form on his fingertips. “Elfire!”
The fire spell landed point blank in the Risen’s chest. Their reflexes are slow to react as the magical fire burns through their clothing, dropping their weapon. Morgan smacked his book closed and reached for his belt while the Risen’s bloodshot eyes fixed on him.
Getting up, Chrom readjusted his grip on Falchion and aimed to attack.
But the lad was quicker, drawing his sword from his belt and cutting the foe, employing an offensive maneuver taught in the Ylissean royal training grounds. The prince then struck, burying the blade in the mage’s chest. He tugged Falchion out and kicked the Risen forward as the mage stumbled back and fell into the pool, turning the water a purple color.
“That was a great effort!” Morgan said, grinning. “You’ve tipped the scale in our favor, and with a dramatic finish too!”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay behind?” The prince scolded, looking for any injuries on Morgan.
“A tactician's duty is to guide and assist his troops in battle. Er, unless it’s reckless?”” Morgan began to stutter as Chrom's scowl deepened.
“Switching weapons mid-battle is reckless, alright!” The prince grumbled, placing a hand on the boy’s back to nudge him forward.
“Mages have a high resistance to spells. It would take three more spells to produce the same damage. Umm... but at least you had my back! I did state that I could-”
“DOWN SWORD HAND!”
Morgan glanced in the direction of the shouter. Owain, Lissa’s son, finished a mage with a theatrical twirl of his sword, the blade slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground. “Oops! Too soon.”
Chrom steered the boy ahead. “We'll introduce you to him later.” He didn’t want Morgan to be more confused before meeting with Robin and Lucina. Much less with his nephew, who certainly has eccentric greetings.
He led the lad further into the Ruins, killing remnants of Risen while the army battled the bulk of the foes. He kept sneaking glances at Morgan, who kept pausing for a few seconds to look around before continuing.
Why didn’t Lucina say anything about having a brother?, Chrom wondered. She mentioned keeping secrets for the sake of her future, but this was significant.
They spotted the grandmaster and the princess, fighting one of the last foes in turns, their moves beginning to flow naturally after their first strikes. The lad perked up at the sight and began to walk faster, passing the prince’s side and rushing to the staircase. Chrom paused behind him, a foreboding sense alerting him. With his free hand, the prince grabbed the back of Morgan’s collar, sending the boy lurching backwards.
“Must…kill….future…child” a creaky voice uttered, positioned in front of them. Pushing the gasping Morgan behind him, the prince snarled at the threat. Yet, the creature ignored Chrom completely, his red eyes glowed at the lad, raising their weapon.
Only for the Risen Chief to be hit with a lightning bolt from behind.
———
Morgan, with one of his few remaining memories, recognized Mother's figure in the distance. The magical sigil from her spell vanished as she ran towards them, leaving her blue companion behind to finish the pair’s remaining foe. The attack only slowed the foe for a few seconds before their red eyes returned to him, sending shivers down the lad’s spine.
Morgan hesitated.
The man who had rescued him was now shielding him from the front, ready to fight. From behind, the young tactician couldn’t exactly understand their connection, only recognizing some vague familiarity in his features and clothing. Their hair matched, that was certain, but something… else was as well. He couldn’t remember what exactly it was, but it was there. The rest of his appearance was unmistakably influenced by his mother.
Yet, Morgan felt safe by the rescuer's side. Almost like Mother. I guess it’s the same with fathers as well? Even though the young tactician had no recollection of having one in the first place.
Chrom dashed forward, stabbing the foe’s torso, anger fueling his blows. Morgan snapped from his trance and opened his Elfire tome, power gathering in his palm. The lad's breath came out shaky and loud to his own ears.
They are dead, aren’t they? He shook his head, trying to stifle the tremor in his hands. It was only when he stopped to notice that most of his opponents had decayed flesh and disappeared in a cloud of ashes. That is not the way a living being should die.
Stay calm, he remembered his mother’s words, taking a deep breath. Hesitation is a soldier's undoing, and a tactician should always be ready to fight when necessary.
Morgan blasted the spell in his palm, burning the hole left by Chrom’s attack and peeling the undead chief’s skin. Nevertheless, the undead opponent didn’t stall or acknowledge the pain. Another volley of fire and the lad could start to see the ribs.
Still, their attacker remained standing, growling at the lad.
Did he do some action to draw its attention? Why did this foe seem out to get him, specifically? Morgan didn't trigger any traps, and he only fought back in self-defense. However, he was ambushed by them for some reason.
Before Morgan could continue his attack, Robin arrived. She fired one thunderous spell to the foe’s back, followed by Chrom’s sword, swiftly ending the foe's life. As their body dropped into the stone floor, the lad could hear their last words: “Forsaken…Child”.
Forsaken? It was targeting me! Another shiver ran down his spine. Get it together! It’s only words from a dead man!
Robin sighed, wiping sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her coat. “Close one.”
Morgan paused in his thoughts. It WAS her! Her voice was unmistakable. All those dreadful thoughts vanished in an instant as his chest burst with joy.
“Mother!” The lad blurted out and rushed towards Robin. He wrapped his arms around the woman, who froze in place, befuddled.
“The treasure hunter? Who are- Why are you hugging me?” Robin flushed, and Morgan loosened his grip as she stepped backwards, gripping her tome. The young tactician was sure if he hadn’t caught her off guard, a bolt of thunder would’ve likely slipped between his ribs. “Did you call me Mother?”
“You’re safe!” The lad’s tongue wagged before his mind, resisting the urge to embrace her once more. Since he awoke, something has finally made sense!
“You know me?” Robin stammered. “What in gods’ name is going on?”
Hands gripped Morgan’s shoulders, and he peered behind him to see Chrom, wearing a pinched expression. “Look, Robin, this is another future child. However, he appears to be suffering from the same type of memory loss as you."
The grandmaster's eyes widened. While the lad waved at her, her gaze moved downward to his cloak, then upward to his hair. Meanwhile, Morgan got a better look at her. He noticed she was younger than he remembered, with none of the light lines around her cheeks or the corner of her brown eyes that he was used to seeing. Chrom did say something about it being the past, but when she was right there, all logic left the lad’s mind.
“Son?” Robin gasped, covering her mouth.
“Name’s Morgan! Love of your life and strapping young lad and all that? But what is going on- Nhn! My head!”
A stabbing pain passed through his skull, blinding his senses. Morgan’s breath caught in his throat while his ears popped, hearing a distant sound that he couldn't decipher and a flash of blue in his vision. He only focused on the pain for a startling few seconds before it faded as quickly as it came.
“You alright?” Chrom's voice sounded like it was submerged underwater as Morgan felt the pressure in his shoulders increase. A warm palm touched his forehead. “Do you need a healer?”
Morgan opened his eyes, his watery vision clearing as he sighted the two adults staring concernedly at him.
“Easy. Don’t pressure yourself to remember,” Robin reassured, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “The pain comes if you overexert yourself.”
“I’m fine!” Morgan said, shaking his head to ward off the remaining discomfort. “Just thought a bit too much!”
Robin removed her palm, raising a brow. “I'm assuming you came from Lucina's future, but you haven't yet been born. You aren’t the only future child that has appeared nor the only one with amnesia in this army. If Chrom hadn't found me lying in that field, who knows what would've happened to me…”
“You’ve got amnesia AND woke up in a field too? Hah! Like mother, like son, huh? Oh, that's too funny.” Morgan cracked a smile. He wasn't alone in this perplexing mess he awoke to, and even shared the same amnesia as his mother. The situation wasn't as bad as he had imagined.
“Glad to see you inherited my blithe outlook.” Mother said as she and Chrom exchanged glances.
“That’s right.” The prince asserted, letting go of his shoulders. “Robin has no recollection of her past, and there is no need for her to remember her past. Same to you. However, we should get you to a healer and-”
“Father!”
Morgan craned his neck to see a blue blur running towards them from the end of their small square spot.
It was Mother’s companion from before. She came to a halt by the adult's side, relief evident until she set her gaze on him. Shock complicated her features as a flicker of recognition passed through Morgan’s mind, faint as Chrom. Her name itched in his subconscious.
“Are you -uh?” the lad paused. He was close. Who was it? “Oh! Lucina, isn’t it?”
“Morgan,” Lucina choked. In the white and blue light, a strange shape stood out in her left pupil, slowly becoming watery. “You’re alive.”
“Do you call him Father? That’s- urk!”
In a flurry of cloth, the familiar stranger threw her arms around him, a low sob erupting from her throat. Her tight grip caused him to gasp for air, but the warmth was soothing. Morgan hugged her back unconsciously, smelling a familiar hint of leather among the sweat and metallic tang.
“I specified for you to jump in AFTER me, not LAST!” she scolded, although she sounded more relieved than angry. “I’ve been fretting ever since Owain told me!”
“What?” Morgan wheezed. He had no idea what she was implying. “I jumped?”
“This is not a jest, Morgan!” Lucina's grip relaxed as she took a step back to look at him without letting go. “Are you well? Did you just recently arrive?
“I was with Mother!” The lad replied. It was, after all, the truth. Even though he didn't recognize her, his instincts told him not to disappoint her.
Judging by her immediate frown, Morgan did not make the right call.
“Mother?” Lucina emphasized. “You were with her? OUR mother?"
“I was with her! She’s-” Morgan came to a halt, searching his memory for the last time he saw her but coming up empty-handed.
Where were they going?
They were traveling together, weren’t they? He and Mother were roaming the lands and got separated. They were going home… to a house? Tent? Morgan couldn't even recall. Only his mother's form remained dominant in each fuzzy memory, the rest of the image blurring in blobs of color.
“She-she is alive! I know it!” A cold chill swept through the ruins, and he wasn’t sure if it was the gust or his own chills that made the young tactician go cold. “We got separated!”
“Morgan…”
“Alright. That’s enough, you two.” Chrom interrupted, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Lucina, we should converse elsewhere.”
"Why should…” Lucina stopped, her words drifting off. In shock, her eyes narrowed as she searched for any sign of recognition as he avoided her gaze. “Morgan, are you aware… of who I am?
There was something there. A small inkling in the back of his mind that itched at his subconscious about her. Morgan concentrated deeply on the marks on Chrom's shoulder and the pupil of the stranger’s eye. Similar. Brand. Blood. Think, Morgan, think! What is it?
“You’re Lucina?” he probed, unsure. Chrom did mention a sister named Lucina, and she didn’t deny the name. “My sister? Something about the future.”
“What is your name? Do you know anyone by the name of Owain?”
“Just Morgan… I think.” The lad winced. He certainly didn’t remember who this Owain even was. His heart thumped painfully as Lucina’s bafflement became palpable, as he didn't want to disappoint her. A person he doesn't even KNOW! The young tactician peeked a glance at her, her blue eyes wide and clear, and the strange pupil shone through once more.
Morgan suddenly realized why it was familiar.
“Oh!” He startled, trying to break the tension with a smile. “I do recognize something!”
Morgan flicked the long sleeves of the coat up to wrists. “I woke up with this.”
Although his left hand was pale and blemish-free, a light brown birthmark was painted on the top of his right. A teardrop surrounded by an arc, typical of the few flags and emblems he has seen since his awakening. It matches perfectly with the shapes etched on Chrom’s shoulder and Lucina’s eye.
“It’s the Brand, Chrom.” Robin said.
“The what?” the lad asked, rubbing the mark. It seemed unusual for a birthmark to have a distinct pattern.
The three of them focused on his hand, their expression ranging from shock to amusement. Lucina herself stepped backwards, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s not…”
Mother looked at Chrom, tilting her head to Lucina before grabbing Morgan’s arm and guiding him away. “It’s a long tale…”
———
“Here’s the treasure, Blue.”
Chrom accepted the tear-shaped artifact from Gaius’ fingers, brushing off the small flakes of sugar left behind on its surface. As the sun began to set on the land, the relic was warm to the touch and shone with soft golden light.
“This must be Naga's Tear... I can feel the power coursing through it.” The prince wasn’t magically inclined, but even he could feel the intensity of the relic in his hands. It almost seems too valuable to sell it to any wandering merchant.
Lissa bounced next to him, already finished with her healing rounds. “Sweet! This baby should keep us safe in the battles to come!”
“I hope you're right about that, Sis.”
“Is there some special payment for this service? A nice fat stack of Valm goodies may do the trick.” Gaius said, chewing on a lollipop stick. "I heard the dynasties gave you some of their prized Valm's confections."
"You can have Lissa's rations for a week until we return back to Habor."
Chrom, after years of practice, smoothly avoided the wrath of Lissa’s staff, dodging to the left while she stomped her feet. “HEY! Those are my goodies! You have no right to give them away!
"You said you didn't like those sweets," Chrom defended, taking care to keep the relic out of her reach. “We will not have another bug infestation in this camp due to the stash you're hoarding beneath your bed sheets."
“It’s called snooping and it's very rude! Also, I like their hard candies!” The cleric huffed, turning to the resident thief. “It’s your JOB to get the treasures. Why do you get freebies?”
“It’s called Hazard Pay, Princess. Not only for the thieves I fought to get this treasure, but my kid is already running me dry in both the money and candy department.”
“So? You can use your salary to pay off- HEY! Gaius don’t run away! It’s mine!” Lissa yelled as the thief dashed out of sight without looking back.
Chrom chuckled at the sight, his heart feeling slightly elevated at their antics. As Naga’s Tear warmed his hands, the prince couldn't help but think about Morgan, who was talking with Robin on the other side of the field.
Lissa's irritated pout faded as she looked and followed his gaze to the pair.
“So, it’s another future kid, huh?” His sister said softly, poking his arm. “Now, you know the feeling of having a surprise kid. It’s fun after the initial shock. Plus, I need to find out who my new nephew is.”
“Define fun,” he swallowed. “His memory loss complicates matters, especially concerning Lucina. She never told us she had a sibling in her future. Gods knows why.”
Lissa uttered a soft oh. Her bottom lip jutted out as she wanted to say more before shaking her head.
“Where do I even begin?” Chrom said, spotting Lucina not far from them, standing alone. It shouldn't matter, but the circumstances left a bitter sentiment behind. He couldn't find the right words to describe this extraordinary situation.
“Look on the bright side! Memory or not, he’s welcomed here just like Robin was. Maybe Morgan will be even happier with us, and Lucina will be reunited with her brother. There’re no hard feelings here when you guys talk it out. The future was harsh on all the kids.”
“It’s not that simple when you aren’t there to witness it-”
“Come on, Chrom! Stop being a big baby!” Lissa fumed, pushing him to face his daughter's path. “Look at Robin! She’s talking to Morgan now, and YOU need to talk to Lucina! She needs her father. Now, shoo! I got candy to eat and a thief to beat thanks to SOMEONE unless Lon’qu stabs him first for me.”
“You don't have to yell,” He grumbled. “I understand this fine.”
“Hmmm. You better!” she stepped back, leaving while shouting: “I’ll check in on Morgan later to see what can be done!”
Chrom exhaled sharply, accepting the inevitable. The prince had already given Lucina some time to collect her thoughts, and it was now time to figure out what she knew. Of course, in a delicate way. He had been warned about his bluntness on such sensitive subjects.
He slipped Naga’s Tear into his belt pocket and made his way to where Lucina sulked. She trailed close behind the mother and son but kept her distance, pacing back whenever she got too close.
“Lucina.”
“Yes, Father?” she responded, wiping her face with her sleeves, and putting on a stern mask.
“How do you fare with all this?” Chrom said, motioning to the area.
“Morgan doesn’t remember me,” Lucina plainly stated, looking at the boy. "All this time we've been apart, and he has no recollection of me or the others. How should I interpret that, Father?”
Not well, I suppose.
“At the very least, he's safe and sound here. Although his amnesia complicates matters, he'll be accepted by the Shepherds with ease.”
“I don’t doubt he will acclimate well into the army.” The princess’s voice wavered. “However, should we trust him?”
“I don’t see why not,” Chrom countered, noting the tense coil of her shoulders, ready to spring into action at the first sight of trouble. “He’s not a danger and the boy is lost. Robin is the only person he recognizes."
“Even if you have doubts about who he is?”
“What?”
"My brother," she paused to gather her thoughts. Slowly, the princess raised her arm and tapped her left eye. “Didn’t have the brand. It never appeared just like Aunt Lissa. The last time I saw him, this remained true. Now, he bears the brand after all these years and remembers Mother and only her, even though she perished in our time? He may have similar hair and look akin to my brother, but how are we certain? I'm not trying to cast doubt on his intentions, but I can't stop myself from having these thoughts.”
“Those are harsh words.” Chrom tensed, taken back by princess brutal honesty. This conversation was more difficult than he had anticipated. “You don’t think he’s from your time?”
Lucina straightened, staring directly into his eyes. “Before we leapt, Morgan was rather burdened with… something. I assumed it was due to our duty as royals of the Halidom. However, when one of the gemstones was destroyed, he acted differently. Started to keep a distance from all of us. My brother avoided mentioning Mother as much as he could. I assumed it was the heaviness of failure that hung over all of us."
Lucina gazed downward, fixating on her boots. “But now it's as if none of the events ever happened to him. He's not a different person, per se; he's still Morgan, just not the one I raised with."
“Why don’t you say anything beforehand?” Chrom couldn't help but add, unsure whether it was out of anger at the lack of information or concern for his daughter's growing anxiety. “You have a brother, whether it’s the version you knew or another. Yet, you neglected to mention it at all, Lucina.”
“I cannot mention other children that haven’t appeared and provide their parents with false hope if the worst comes true. It is a risk we all accepted.” Lucina laughed bitterly, her hair obscuring her face as she tilted forward. “Alas, it seems I’m being punished for my obliviousness and lies. Whether it is my brother or not, Morgan doesn’t know who I am. Perhaps it was a blessing for him to forget. “
“Lucina, don’t ever repeat those words!” The prince spat. A fire was set ablaze on his chest. The princess was taken aback by his rebuttal; while he focused on calming himself down, his hands clenched on his sides.
It’s terrible, Chrom thought, his mind filled with his own fears, recalling the conversations he had with Robin. If one day she awoke with no memory once again, what would he do? That one day, his partner in life would look at him with a curious expression and no recognition in her eyes. Just the idea of forgetting their lives and the struggles they had shared. It’s painful to imagine.
The same fear manifested in their children. Morgan attempts to hide how lost he is in his new surroundings and Lucina's anguish at not being remembered, spiraling into doubts about their entire relationship.
“It’s not your fault.” The prince found himself speaking aloud while Lucina rubbed her sleeve across her face once more. “It's a terrible situation, but you're not to blame for the circumstances behind it.”
"I-Morgan was all I had in our future," her voice cracked as she returned her gaze to her mother and newfound brother. "And now I'm losing him all over again. Is it truly him or should I fret over what happened to the one I possibly left behind?”
“You haven't lost him, Lucina. He’s safe and sound with us now, and that is a chance. I won’t guarantee it’ll be as easy to bond as before, but it has the potential to grow over time. For now, all you have to do is stay by their side and keep them safe."
Ahead in the field, Robin turned to face them and smiled, motioning for them to approach. Morgan waved meekly, a hopeful expression on his face. Their discussion appears to have gone well. Lucina shifted her feet as if ready to join them, but she hesitated, glancing at Chrom.
“That’s what my father told me once before.” The princess said, recovering from her sorrowful display. “Back in my future. Often, he’ll say: 'Protect your little brother and keep him safe!’ Even if it was just a simple stroll through the castle grounds with all the royal retainers in attendance.” Lucina’s expression softened before a decisive light came to her eyes. “I’ll do just that, Father.”
“Good.” Chrom asserted as both father and daughter joined the rest of their nuclear family.
___
At nightfall settled on the Shepherds’ camp, Morgan collapsed into his temporary bedroll, exhausted. After all, he had last slept in the middle of a field, and who knows how long it’s been since then. The young tactician was grateful to be offered a hastily erected tent and a simple, warm bed. As well as having a constant stream of his newfound family checking up in on him, asking about his wellbeing periodically.
Even Lucina offered a few words of comfort herself, still slightly hesitant while moving her own belongings to share the tent with him. Morgan himself was unsure whether he should apologize for his amnesia or continue to inquire about the future. He was eager to learn everything he could about the people and events he couldn't remember.
However, exhaustion ached deep in his bones. He'll go about the task another day.
Still, his inquisitive mind had one more question before turning in for the night: "Mother, you never did explain what the Brand was."
“It’s the Brand of the Exalt,” Robin took a pair of wool shirts from an old supply box and piled them in a pile for him to wear because he had no other clothes except the one on his back. “You share it with Chrom and Lucina.”
“You don’t have the same mark? I remembered you had one as well.”
"Mine is unique to me," she said, pausing briefly before continuing with the laundry. "The Brand on your hand is inherited from your father’s side. It is passed exclusively down through the Royal House of Ylisse’s lineage.”
“Oh… that’s nice.” The lad blinked, ready for sleep after such a long day. At the very least, he shared some similarities with his father and sister. Despite the fact that he has no idea what Ylisse was or how a House has to do with their family-
Hold on.
The cogs in Morgan’s mind slowly turned, and he realized what his mother had mentioned.
“Wait, WE’RE ROYALTY?! Mother, why didn’t you say so?!”