Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.

Sometimes I wish I was better at taking notes, because I'm sure there's some plot threads I'm going to completely forget about at some point. On an unrelated note, Kjelle is now a part of the group and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Well, okay, I have an outline. So not no idea.

As soon as we start travelling it becomes clear our group is effectively split in two pairs: Me and Morgan, and then Noire and Kjelle. Noire and Kjelle aren't exactly close, it's just that Kjelle is less weird to Noire than Morgan and especially me so it's obvious why Noire sticks around Kjelle. It's me and Kjelle that act as the two extremes of the group that never interact. Morgan and Noire will sometimes speak with the other side, but me and Kjelle rarely interact.

Also, Kjelle has her own tent, so now she and Noire share that one and me and Morgan share the one we got.

Kjelle is also just as much of an ass as I expected. She scoffs the first time she sees me give Morgan. Perhaps due to not taking rides as often, Noire can manage the long walks on her own now, which is something Kjelle loudly praises in an obvious jab at Morgan (though much to Noire's consternation, as she doesn't want to be a point of conflict).

Still, despite Kjelle being Kjelle, things don't change all that much. I still sing a lot, me and Morgan still have spontaneous roleplay moments, Noire still watches us from the sidelines with a side-eye and the occasional shake of her head, and Noire still rarely actually speaks to anyone.

The one change that does happen is dedicated training time. Kjelle insists on having it for herself every night, and Morgan agrees that it would be best if all of us made some effort to improve.

Kjelle makes yet another snide remark about us being lazy before, and the rest of us ignore her. Ignoring Kjelle entirely has become very common. I wonder when she'll get the hint and stop talking.

Training sucks just as much as I expected it to. Crossbow practice isn't too bad, but training with my axe is awful.

Some people take satisfaction from the exhaustion and burning muscles after training. I am not one of those people. It's an irritation I'd rather not deal with. Everyone else doesn't seem to mind so much. Kjelle takes (loud) pride in her effort, and Morgan does often give a satisfied nod or smile when she's done training with her sword (she doesn't want to overwork her tome). Noire goes about training with silent focus, practicing not only with her bow but also a dagger. There's a sort of solemn seriousness to Noire's practice. I'm not good enough at reading people to make a guess at why that would be, and I don't feel comfortable asking about it.

Sometimes, very rarely, there is sparring. I usually refuse to participate on the principle that I have no idea what I'm doing (unless Morgan coaxes me into it, generally so she can help me understand the fundamentals of combat, in those cases it's less sparring and more instruction). Kjelle seems to flip-flop between intensely wanting to spar and scoffing that she wouldn't spar with people so weak. She's effortlessly stronger than the rest of us… though I think that's only because Morgan won't use her magic. She doesn't have a training tome (apparently those exist), so any elfire she used would be the real deal.

Incidentally, Morgan has explained how tomes work to me. The best metaphor I can make is that they're like a computer and the mage is the battery and operator. The mage provides the power and works the keys (manipulating the different parts of the book through magic so the spell does and goes where the mage wants it to), and the book pumps out a result from those inputs. Tomes can also "overheat". If you use one too much or put too much power into a spell, you'll degrade the systems within it (the mana will strain the diagrams and spell circles inside) until it eventually stops working. Something else interesting about magic is that if you were an expert you could cast elfire without a tome and have it be mostly the same, but it would take an incredible amount of focus and skill. What tomes do is allow you to use less mana on spells by making spellcasting waste less of your energy via energy efficiency, not power amplification. Tomes don't add any extra power (for the most part. Some expensive high-level tomes do), they just allow you to cast the spell more effectively without the need for five times as much training.

It's like using a calculator versus doing an equation by hand. Same result, less effort.

Combat tomes are designed to be disposable so they can be made cheap for armies to buy in bulk. Other tomes, such as ones for more mundane tasks that don't require lots of power, are designed to hold up for longer and can survive centuries of daily use.

Sorry, back to sparring. Kjelle wins mostly even when she doesn't wear armor. Her fervent training does indeed pay off. Sometimes Morgan can abuse how predictable Kjelle is and win through careful counter-attacks, a feint, or a bait, but more often than not Kjelle takes advantage of her long reach with her spear and wins without taking a hit. Noire doesn't really stand a chance when using her dagger, but she spars anyways to learn from her mistakes.

I spar with Noire once or twice using my axe against her dagger, and she easily beats me. She's fast, accurate, and has quick reflexes. I have none of that, and so despite my superior reach thanks to long arms and a larger weapon, I lose quickly each time.

To spar safely we've crafted wooden weapons. Our rough woodworking skills are more than enough to make crude, if extremely poorly balanced, practice weapons.

Long story short, I hate training and sparring. It sucks and I'm bad at it. It is interesting to watch the sparring matches though. Also, I like the smug look on Morgan's face whenever she does manage to beat Kjelle. It's… cute? Is that the term I'm going with? Sure, cute. That's much less embarrassing than saying hot.

###

"A bit far off the beaten path to be travelling with yer prizes, flat face."

Considering how prevalent the issue seems to be in the worlds of Fire Emblem, bandits, brigands, whatever you want to call them, were an inevitable encounter. Perhaps I should have been expecting this. The first thing I say is not a threat or a warning though. It's a question: "Flat face?"

Noire tugs my sleeve and whispers, "Racial slur. He thinks you're Valmese."

Ah, okay. So apparently my current body looks Valmese. Good to know. "flat face" must be in reference to the small nose and rather unpronounced eye ridge. At least, that's what I think.

Look, I'm not super knowledgeable about the distinguishing features of certain races, so I don't actually know. I'm guessing here. If it's not skin color or epicanthic folds, I really can't identify phenotypic markers nor do I really care to. Maybe the slur is totally inaccurate to the actual distinguishing features of Valm's population's predominant phenotypic traits.

I've never been the target of a slur before, coming from a rather privileged place, so this is a new experience. I'm not sure if I'm shocked or just mildly amused at the cartoonish level of racism here. He's like a bigot in a kid's show to be berated into submission for the obvious message of "Don't be racist", except he also has an axe.

Also, I'm assumed to be in charge by this guy. Probably because I look the oldest, and also because I'm male. Probably, maybe. I'm not going to ask because it doesn't matter, because he's probably going to die. Good to know sexism is alive and well though.

"Every path around here looks beaten. I didn't realize there was a main path." I say as calmly as possible. My heart is actually pounding in my chest, and I'm trying to keep my legs from trembling. "Maybe you could point us in the right direction then?"

I'm aware that Morgan, who is standing next to me, is slowly turning around to study the trees around us, likely looking for where the rest of this man's group is (because you know he wouldn't confront us alone). I'm going to try and stall as long as possible to let Morgan figure out what we need to do.

"Sure I can." The man says with a too-wide grin. "I just need a bit o' compensation for my efforts. I'm a poor man you see."

"Gladly. We can spare some copper." I nod. I pointedly avoid saying "gold". Best to try and conceal our wealth. Maybe if he thinks we're poor he won't waste the effort on us… though I think he's more interested in the girls than our money.

Hey, I can hope.

"I want something other than copper." He says.

Really dragging this out, aren't you? Apparently he has a flare for the dramatic. That's fine with me. More time for Morgan to work. "Well I can do some woodworking if you need help with something. I'm not the most skilled, but-"

"You really don't get it, do you?" He chuckles.

No, I understand exactly what you want, and you're proving what a terrible tactician you are by wasting the element of surprise on banter. "Get what? Money? Yeah, we're not the richest." That's a nonsense answer if I've ever given one, and also untrue. Well, it's true for me, not so much Morgan.

I imagine Kjelle is getting impatient. It's a wonder she hasn't charged at the man already. I want to look over my shoulder at her, but I feel like it's a bad idea to take my eyes off this guy.

"Are you stupid?" The man asks.

"Probably." I nod. Yes, I am. Less so than you, but yes. "Come on Morgan, any time now. He's going to get to the point eventually."

"Come on..." The man growls, dropping his facade. I think he was really enjoying trying to terrorize us until I played dumb and ruined it. "Look, idiot, just give me the girls."

"But why?" I frown, knowing full well why he wants them. "They're mine. It took me a long time to gather them. I don't want to spend time finding more."

If I'm not imagining things I think I hear Morgan muffle a laugh. If she's laughing at me, the situation must not be too bad. Relief washes over me and I relax and settle into whatever this persona is becoming.

"I had to go to Plegia for this one." I say, gesturing to Noire who stiffens in surprise. "Plegia. Do you know how hot that place is? It's awful."

"What the… are you some sort of slave trader?" The bandit asks. He looks genuinely confused now, and I love it.

"I am a collector." I huff, feigning affrontement. "Don't lump me in with my suppliers."

Noire is staring at me. I'm not sure if that's shock, disgust, or amazement on her face. Maybe all three?

"I can't give up my collection so easily!" I say, and straighten my back and hold my head high. "I spent good money on these girls. These cute faces don't come cheap!" I could probably say something more vulgar, but for Noire's sake I won't. She's probably already embarrassed by all this. "If you want them, you'll need to pay quite the high price. I won't give one of them out for simple directions my good sir."

I could probably pull this act off better if I had a pretentious coat or something rather than my brigand furs. If I'd known I would have to put on this persona I would have bought an appropriately pretentious coat.

"And this one!" I gesture to Kjelle. "Do you know how hard it was to find a woman who can wear full metal armor and wield a spear yet still has a nice face? That sort of high quality woman is hard to come by!"

This act is getting more absurd by the minute, and I love it. I imagine Kjelle does not love it, and I think I hear her growl when I call her a "high quality woman". Sorry Kjelle, if Morgan wasn't busy I'd use her. She'd find this fun.

"My good sir, you must ask something reasonable in exchange for directions, or else offer up something equal in exchange." I huff while straightening my coat. This will almost certainly bring an end to the discussion. I've done my part. Hopefully that's enough. "So unless you have something to offer or will take my copper, you'll have to excuse us."

The brigand snarls at me and raises his voice. "Boys! Get-"

He's abruptly cut off by Noire shooting him in the throat. She took the time to ready her bow while I was wrapping up my act.

Apparently seeing their leader shot down isn't enough to deter the rest of the group, because they all come rushing out of the forest in two teams… one of which almost instantly gets annihilated by Morgan's magic. Grouping up against magic doesn't end up well, just like crowding around a grenade wouldn't.

That leaves us with only seven people to deal with, which I'd dare say is easy due to the fact that three out of four of our group actually know what they're doing. Morgan's voice whips out, sharp and audible, and she quickly dishes out orders. "Kjelle, keep them at a distance with your spear, don't rush in! Noire, Nathan, shoot anyone who tries to get around!"

And so we do just that. Kjelle wards off most of the brigands with large swipes of her spear (usually backing up in the process so they can't rush her), while me and Noire (mostly Noire) shoot the two guys who try to go around Kjelle. Morgan then ends the fight by incinerating the five other brigands with another elfire.

The whole fight is maybe ten seconds long starting from when Noire shot the leader. It's impressive what a small group of skilled soldiers can do… or maybe it's just impressive how effective basic training actually is, because I doubt those brigands had any.

I quickly turn away from the corpses. I've done fairly well ignoring the few deaths that have happened so far. It's simple to put them aside when everyone we've come up against are engaged in blatantly immoral acts. Slave traders, bandits… it's easy to put their deaths out of mind. Mostly.

It doesn't make looking at their dead bodies any more fun though.

Noire and Morgan are quick to loot the bodies, pulling out money pouches, weapons, and trinkets. Kjelle less so, but this is probably the first time she doesn't take issue with something we do. She nods approvingly at the evidence of our efficiency, even giving an approving look to Noire and a calculated but not scornful glance at Morgan. There might even be a bit of respect in that look.

And then she turns to me. Her expression turns to… something. Something critical. "Why do you look so ill? Don't tell me you don't think they should have died."

Well, there is always the chance that some of them could have been talked down. The leader did say that they were pretty poor. It doesn't excuse them by any means, but… "Well, there's always some grey area, but no, they probably got what was coming to them."

"Don't be ridiculous. They were would-be rapists, they didn't even try to hide the fact." Kjelle says bluntly. "There's no "grey area" to speak of."

"In that sense, sure." I agree. "I'm not arguing that they were in the wrong here. There's no two ways about it. The grey area lies in their situation more than anything. They were poor, and there's a good chance their situation pushed them towards banditry…"

"That doesn't justify anything."

"No." I agree. "It doesn't. It does explain why it happened though."

"Why should we care about that?" Kjelle huffs. "They tried to do something terrible, so we killed them. Simple."

"Simple if we only care about the present and not the issues surrounding the situation." I say. "Which, at the moment, is what we're doing I suppose."

"Then why bring up the greater scope at all?"

"Habit." I mutter. "Don't like seeing people brush over the greater scope to justify their actions. Far too common where I come from."

"That happens?"

"All the time." I nod. "I've seen a lot of news about people who are in dire straits, desperate because they don't have the resources to legally deal with certain problems, treated as evil by authorities because they were doing something wrong at the time with no consideration given as to why they were doing it. In hindsight it doesn't really apply here so much, so… my bad."

Kjelle's mouth purses. It's not a frown, but it's not not something positive either. "Look, we're not councilmen here. We have issues to deal with now. We're soldiers. Let the council sort that big picture stuff."

"That's the exact mindset I'm taking issue with." I say. "You can justify some really dubious actions with that logic."

"Ugh…" Kjelle's face contorts into an annoyed snarl. "So what? You'd have me engage in a debate with those bandits instead?"

I shake my head. "No, of course not. I'd just have you be aware of the greater scope so you can use your logic when situations less clear cut do happen."

"Wow, thanks for bestowing your otherworldly knowledge upon me, teacher." She says with obvious disdain.

Okay, yes, I came across as a bit preachy, but I'd hope she sees I have a point. Hmm… I am assuming I'm right here, I'd like to think for a good reason, but I am making an assumption. That said: "Mock me if you want, but I'd like to think I have a decent point. Unless you're taking issue with my logic, in which case I'll happily try to explain it-"

"No, please don't." Kjelle growls. "Look, fine, we both agree the bandits needed to die, right."

"Yes…"

"So let's stop there."

I think stopping there is fundamentally missing the point I was trying to make, but Kjelle clearly doesn't want to listen so there's no point pushing the issue. "Fine."

"Next issue then. You looked ill. Why?"

I don't see how this is an issue, but… "Well I'm not exactly fond of seeing people die, or looking at their corpses."

"Not much of a soldier then, are you? Are you green?"

"Well I'm not a soldier at all." I say. "Are you just here to be an ass? If that's the case, you can leave."

Kjelle stands firm. "You're not a warrior?"

"No." Did I never tell her that? Wait, why should I have to tell her that? Why is this important?

"Ugh." Kjelle groans. She rubs her forehead. "Why are you even coming along then?"

What sort of question is that? "Because all of you are the only people I recognize and somewhat trust in a world where I am woefully under-equipped to survive? I thought we already established this."

"You did in the sense that you said you never planned on being here and were clinging to Morgan's goodwill to survive out of selfishness."

"Well yeah, that's the same thing as what I just said."

"No, it's not. You said you trusted us." Kjelle says firmly.

"Well yeah. I- uh, did I ever explain that you guys are from a game in my world?"

Kjelle crosses her arms. "Not to me."

Considering we've been at odds, I guess I never got around to explaining that to her. No surprise there. I'm not going to explain something personal to someone I don't like. That's basically a free ticket to being mocked, and I do not think Kjelle is the sort of person not to capitalize on that.

"Well long story short you guys are from a game in my world, specifically you're part of the protagonist group and eventually join the Shepherds so I know I can generally trust you to do the right thing. I know enough about you all that I can be reasonably sure you won't kill me or leave me to die." I try to explain. "That's what I meant by clinging to Morgan's goodwill. I know she's reasonably heroic enough to put up with me and not cast me aside to die out of irritation. All of you are like that… probably."

"So you're grasping at straws and preying on our goodwill."

"Absolutely."

"That's kinda pathetic."

"Yep."

"You're shameless."

"Yep again." I say. "Was there a point to this conversation…?"

"Aaaand I think that's a good time to get moving again, don't you?" Morgan says with exaggerated cheerfulness and grabs my arm and pulls me away.

"We're not done." Kjelle replies firmly. "Give us a moment Morgan."

Morgan narrows her eyes. "If you're just going to insult him and bicker, then no, in that case we're going to leave."

"I- fuck." Kjelle grits her teeth and stomps a foot with hands clenched. "I'm not. Look, I keep getting off track. Just let me say my bit."

Morgan looks at me. "Your call. This involves you."

"I'll hear her out." I say reluctantly. I feel obliged to. If I talk about always seeing the bigger picture, I have to listen to all sides. That's how you get to see the bigger picture.

It also occurs to me that saying "hear her out" makes it sound like I'm assuming I'm some sort of higher authority… or maybe I'm reading too much into it and arbitrarily second-guessing my own words.

Morgan reluctantly stands back (alongside a very uncomfortable Noire who is doing her best to ignore this whole situation) and watches from a distance with her arms crossed. Kjelle obviously knows she's going to be intensely scrutinized and judged, and takes a moment to compose herself.

I've never wanted to be out of a social situation more than this moment.

"Look." Kjelle says slowly. "I want to be a knight. I'm trying to live by knightly ideals. That means never backing down from evil, being strong, and being disciplined. You can't do that if you're not absolutely sure you're doing the right thing at all times. An indecisive knight is a dead knight."

I nod silently, showing that I understand. I don't agree necessarily, but I understand the viewpoint.

"To me, you look… looked like basically the worst case scenario." Kjelle explains. "Someone needy, weak, and manipulative who was attaching themself to a group of warriors in an attempt to make themself look better."

Morgan is still listening to this, and she is very unsubtle in how she's now glowering at Kjelle.

"And you're still some of those things as far as I can tell." Kjelle says. "Most of them, except the last part. That's why I care whether you're a warrior or not. If you pretended you were, then you were exactly as bad as I assumed you were. You didn't pretend to be what you weren't, even if you are disappointing in my eyes."

Okay, that's fair enough.

"I- gah, no, that's not right." Kjelle growls. "You're… you're…"

"Uncomfortable to see?"

"Yeah."

"Because I'm weak and kinda useless and yet you feel obliged to let me tag along despite that because you know I need all of you?"

"Close." Kjelle agrees reluctantly. "I don't like that you don't seem to care that you're useless and weak."

Okay, now that is a fair criticism. For what I know about Kjelle and her sort-of strength obsession; it makes total sense she'd hate my whiny-but-indifferent attitude towards my situation that I don't seem to be doing anything about. That's mostly because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing in this world, but Kjelle doesn't know that.

"So that's my gripe." Kjelle says. "I don't like how you conduct yourself, and your ideals are totally counter to what I'm trying to be."

"Right." I say slowly. I actually feel a lot more comfortable now with her grievances out in the open. "That's all fair enough I suppose. I don't particularly want to be a warrior, so I'll definitely agree that I don't care that I'm weak. My uselessness is something I want to deal with, it's just a matter of me figuring out how at the moment. I can't say I agree with your ideals either. To me, you look somewhere between a patronizing protector, might-makes-right well-intentioned extremist, and someone with blind faith in law and the enforcers of the law. Basically I think you have good intentions, but are blind to the consequences and implications of your intentions as they are currently."

Yes, I just phrased my opinion of Kjelle almost entirely in terms of tropes. That's the simplest way I can think of to phrase my thoughts.

"So that's why you insisted on talking about grey area." Kjelle mutters. "You think I'm stupid."

"Pretty much." I admit bluntly. It feels weird to not dance around these almost-insults and just say them. "Well, maybe the term "uncritical" is more accurate. Stupid is a bit harsh."

"Don't try to be polite." Kjelle grumbles. "You're making me feel like an ass."

"Sorry?"

"Don't apologize either. That's just as bad."

"Uh…"

"Look, this is genuinely great and all." Morgan interrupts. "But we can talk while marching, right?"

"Yeah, fine." Kjelle says. I nod silently.

So… I guess that means me and Kjelle aren't enemies anymore? We're not friends, but we're not enemies. I can live with that.

###

I was expecting my talk with Kjelle to be the last somewhat serious talk of the day. I was wrong.

It doesn't start off like you'd expect a mildly serious talk to start. Me and Morgan have just finished starting up the fire, Kjelle is doing some extra training a short distance away, and Noire is off hunting and should be back soon (it's almost sundown). When the fire isn't in imminent danger of flickering out I sit back against a log to watch it, and Morgan quickly drops into my lap only a moment later.

It's odd how normal this has become. A few months back and this sort of position would be nerve-wracking (and it still sparks a bit of nervousness for the first few moments now), but now it's normal-ish.

There's something very comforting about this position. Maybe it's that Morgan is small, warm, and huggable, or maybe it's the more base "cute girl physical contact" part of my subconscious. Or… you know what? This isn't a relevant train of thought. I don't need to dissect why I find this comfortable. It just is.

So, serious talk. Morgan sits down in my lap, making herself comfortable as she usually does. I loosely hug her as I usually do when she takes this position. That's all fine. Then Morgan actually speaks.

"Nathan." Her voice is calm. At this point I don't expect anything serious. Maybe it's a question about a song, or maybe I used an unfamiliar word at some point during the day. That's usually what prompts her questions. If I was more acute, which I am not, maybe I could have detected that she was keeping inflection out of her voice.

"Hmm?" I rest my chin on her head.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." I say. I glance down. She's looking up at me. Staring in fact. "Are you?"

"Yes." She says firmly. Her eyes flick to mine, to my mouth, to my forehead, then back. Is she looking for something? "Nathan."

"Yes?"

"Are you lying to me?" Her tone is not accusing. It's more concerned than anything.

"No." I blink. "Why…?"

"Well we did get ambushed today, and you got a slur thrown at you, and had a sort-of fight with Kjelle." Morgan recounts. "So I'd normally say that would be a pretty bad day."

"So were you lying when you said you were fine then? You got ambushed, and watched a sort-of fight between party members, and also those bandits clearly wanted certain unsavory things of you. That sounds like a pretty bad day too."

"I suppose it does." Morgan admits. "I was more concerned about the fact that you don't exactly have thick skin and you're not comfortable with fighting. Unlike me."

"Unlike you?"

"Yes." She says simply. "Dealing with the bandits felt like doing my job. I was confident, comfortable even, like I was in my element. Their threats were just background noise; another day on the job. Kinda weird now that I think about it."

"Maybe it's because you probably had experience with all this before you lost your memories."

"Maybe." Morgan nods. "And I think we both know I have thick skin." Well, I can't argue there. I was thinking more about the fighting anyways. "Also, don't change the subject."

"Well there's not much to say about it." I mumble. "We got ambushed. That sucked, but you guys murdered their asses pretty hard, and hearing you laugh at my act really took the feeling of danger out of the situation. If you were laughing I figured the situation was fine. As for the slur… well it didn't really have an impact. I've never dealt with slurs directed at me before, so it was more of a curiosity than some painful instance of racism. Also, "flat face" sounds stupid, and I knew the guy was an asshole who was totally going to die, so it was hard to take it seriously."

"Ah." Morgan relaxes. "Good then."

"When I have a…" I pause. I was going to say girlfriend, but I'm not sure that's the point we're at. Fuck if I know what point we are at, but I'm not going to be presumptuous. Better safe than sorry. Gotta find something else to say. "...group of teammates involving a sniper, a girl who could probably deadlift a tree, and someone who can throw fire, I'm less inclined to be worried about untrained thugs. It's not like we were facing those slavers who actually looked like they might know what they were doing. These were bandits. I wouldn't be surprised if half of them had never actually had to fight someone before."

"That's basically what I concluded about them while watching." Morgan nods. "Almost none of them were holding their weapons properly."

"Uh… I just assumed they didn't have experience because they didn't attack us instantly and lost the element of surprise."

"Well they were hoping to intimidate rather than fight, but he did talk way longer than he needed to." Morgan nods.

"I suppose you didn't get to see how disappointed he was that I wasn't acting scared."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. I started playing dumb to stall for time and he went from smug to annoyed when I dodged his implications several times. It was kinda funny actually."

"Now I wish I was watching rather than just listening." Morgan laughs. "And how did he react to your whole collector act?"

"He was weirded out." I shrug. "Looked at me like I was crazy. Standard stuff."

Morgan makes a "tsk" noise with her mouth. "He clearly didn't appreciate the art of your act."

"Obviously. He made no note of the haughty posture I adopted, or how I held my head high. Why, he didn't even show interest in my collection! Rude really." I smile.

"You didn't even show me off." Morgan huffs. She crosses her arms, also smiling. "I'm offended, really. You praised Noire and Kjelle, but not me? Your girlfriend? Really now."

Oh, so that is the term we're using. Cool. "I can't just show the gem of my collection to anyone. A visitor has to earn the privilege to gaze upon certain pieces."

"Is that how it is?"

"Indeed." I say, trying to make my voice smooth and smug. To add to the act, I stroke her hair kinda like you'd expect a villain to stroke the head of a pet. "Do not pout my dear, he was not worthy. Your task was far more important. Only the best visitors for the best of my collection."

"Of course, of course." Morgan nods. She takes a second, then says. "You know, it just occurred to me this joke is a bit messed up."

"Well yeah, that was sort of the point, wasn't it?" I say. "Dark comedy. We're literally making the joke that I'm a creepy pervert who collects young girls. It's funny because it's messed up but also untrue."

"I guess I just never gave it much thought." Morgan shrugs.

"Having second thoughts?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. Please, keep up the act. I do enjoy being the most important part of the collection if I keep getting compliments."

"Oh I see, you just want the compliments." I smirk. "Doesn't matter how you get it."

"Guilty as charged." Morgan grins. She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. "So please, don't hold back."

Kjelle's voice cuts into our talk. "Can you two not? There are other people here you know."

Morgan raises her voice, but adopts our usual flat "I'm making a joke" tone. "Oh yes, Nathan, don't stop." She tilts her head to expose her neck, and splays out her limbs in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"My." I say in a similarly flat and emotionless tone. "What a tasty sight." I snake a hand into her coat (not her shirt, he coat) and stroke her leg with the other while lowering my face so my nose strokes her neck. (Morgan actually shivers when I do that. Not sure how I should react, so I say nothing).

Kjelle sighs deeply and doesn't comment. After a moment, me and Morgan drop our act and return to a more normal position. When we do that, Kjelle speaks. "Morgan."

"What's up?"

"Do you have any idea how long it will take to get to Ylisstol from here?"

"Not really." Morgan admits. "It's not like we have a map. Finding you was our rough halfway point for getting through Ferox."

"And we might want to consider picking up Nah on our way down through Ylisse." I add. "Granted, that would mean finding passage to the island her paralogue is located on and moving to the east coast of Ylisse rather than just going down the center, but it's something we can consider."

"Trying to collect all the future kids?" Morgan jokes.

"Well kinda." I shrug. "We have no way of knowing if the Shepherds will actually find them, and all the future kids get into dangerous and possibly fatal situations if the game is correct."

"But the issue with that is that you don't know how well your knowledge actually lines up, right?"

"Right."

"I would vote for finding Nah." Kjelle says. "If we have the knowledge to find her, and there is even the slightest chance of danger to her, we should consider ourselves obliged to find her. Whether she ends up being in danger or not, we can't take that risk."

"Yeah, that's a fair point." I agree. "Morgan?"

"Makes sense." She shrugs. "As long as we have the money for it, which we should. That said, if we could find the Shepherds we could get their help. We'd have more strength to deal with problems that do arise."

"It would take longer in the case of Nah." I remind her. "For everyone else, we're going to Ylisstol first anyways. Laurent's paralogue is below Ylisstol, the others are in the far reaches of Plegia or on the other continent. We'd be stopping by Ylisse before going to them anyways. Nah is the only one left where we have a logical reason to go to her first rather than Ylisstol."

"Well put." Kjelle agrees.

Noire returns at this moment. She steps out of the forest carrying a whole deer over her shoulders. "I caught something…"

"So we can see." Kjelle says. "You're just in time to offer an opinion. We're deciding if we should detour to get Nah before we go to Ylisstol."

"Ah…" Noire mumbles. She lays the deer on a log. "Um… I don't mind either way…"

Well, I can't say that's a surprising answer, but I should probably offer her the facts. "It will delay us going to Ylisstol. We're going to have to go all the way to the east coast and across the water. You're okay with that?"

"Yes." Noire nods. "It's fine."

I suppose we're going after Nah then. Cool.

Noire then skins, guts, and cooks the deer, and we eat; and I'm here to inform you that deer tastes really… generic.

###

"Hey Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"I never asked, but… what do you look like?"

"What?"

"This isn't your body, right?" She taps my arm. "So what do you actually look like?"

"Well…" I squint as I remember. "Skinny, boney, pale, long dark brown unkempt hair that goes to the waist, blue eyes, not tall, scrawny… I don't know how to describe appearances in more nuance."

"Huh." Morgan blinks. "That's… hmm."

"You were expecting something else."

"Well yeah. I guess I thought you'd be tall."

"Because I'm tall right now?"

"Yeah." Morgan says quietly. I think she just remembered she can't use my current body as any sort of indicator of what I actually look like. "You said shorter than average? How short?"

"I dunno." I shrug helplessly. "I don't remember my exact height, I just know I was shorter than most other adult men I was around. Not by any huge margin, just by a bit."

"Taller than me?"

"Probably." I nod.

"How about Kjelle?"

"I think so."

"Noire?"

"Probably about the same height as Noire." I guess. I'm not really sure. I never bothered to keep track of how tall I was. My current perspective is at least a head taller than I used to be though. I can tell just by looking at the ground. "Maybe a bit taller? I think I was about average height back home. It's just that there were a lot of tall people in my classes."

"What did your voice sound like?"

"I don't know how to describe that." I shrug. "Not this deep, that's for sure."

"Would you be able to describe what race you are?"

"Not really. I doubt the term "caucasian" exists here." I say. "Not Valmese, not Chon'sinese, not Feroxi." Technically just not dark skinned Feroxi, because Olivia is Feroxi too but she looks totally different. I can't tell any substantial differences between Plegian, Ylissian, and light Feroxi.

"Would you be able to identify your own race if you saw someone who was a part of it?"

"Maybe within a certain margin I could." I muse. "But for the most part no. For example you, Noire, and Kjelle all fall into that margin."

"Hmm…" Morgan frowns.

"What's wrong? Why so insistent?"

"I just want to know. It's weird to think what I'm seeing is not who you consider yourself to be." Morgan says. "I want to know how you see yourself."

I have the best girlfriend apparently. "I'm sure there's a spell or something that could be used to show you. A mental projection thing."

"Yeah." Morgan still sounds disappointed.

I abruptly pull her into a hug (seeing as we're walking at the moment, that also involves picking her up). "You're the best."

"Hell yeah I am." She agrees. "Uh… why in this case?"

"Because I'm too emotional." I mumble.

"Hey, if this is emotional, please continue." Morgan says cheerfully.

"Please don't." Kjelle grumbles from beside us.

"Killjoy." Morgan huffs.

"Just get a room or something." Kjelle groans. "Just don't do this shit in front of me."

"You're just jealous." Morgan taunts.

"Absolutely not." Kjelle says instantly.

"You just want a hug too, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"So cold."

"Or you're just shameless."

"Can confirm." Morgan grins. "No shame here!"

"I know." Kjelle replies tiredly. "You're not exactly subtle."

###

I know me and Kjelle aren't exactly hostile to each other any more, but it still feels weird to try and talk to her.

There's also the problem that I'm not quite sure what to ask her. I want to know who her father is, and if she knows the parentage of the other kids, but asking that just makes it seem like I'm being nosy for no reason (which I sort of am), but I also just want to know more about Ylisse before we get there. The vague tidbits I got from the game don't exactly tell me how the country is like. Playing the game is like getting a pamphlet about the countries involved. It's barely anything.

There's so much I want to know that I don't know where to start, and I'm sure to miss something. Maybe I should just focus on the important information. Parentage is the most important. If I can narrow down the pairings I might be able to figure out who Morgan's mother is, and Morgan would love to know that.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you actually going to say something?" Kjelle asks. She's not looking at me, I wonder how she knew I was staring.

Morgan is bathing at the moment, and Noire is practicing archery. Kjelle is practicing with her spear while I tend the fire.

"Well yeah. I was just wondering how to start." I say. "Because I don't know how to ask this question without sounding weird."

"Then just say it. Don't dance around." Kjelle grunts. She strikes the tree with her wooden lance, still not looking at me.

"Right, uh… I want to know who married who among the Shepherds."

Kjelle pauses, then looks at me with a frown. "Why the fuck would you want to know that?"

"For Morgan." I say in a hurry. "She's an amnesiac, right? She doesn't know who her mother is, only her father. So if I can find out the pairings among the Shepherds I can use my knowledge of the game to narrow down who Morgan's mother might be."

"Well I suppose that makes sense." Kjelle grumbles. "It's still so weird that there's a game about us…"

I nod silently, waiting for Kjelle to start explaining.

"Ugh, I'm not the person you should be asking though." Kjelle sighs. "I'll tell you what I know, but I don't know too much."

"Anything helps."

"Well… okay. My parents are Sully and Stahl." Kjelle says. "Noire's are Gaius and Tharja. The royal family is Exalt Chrom and Queen Maribelle, with Princess Lucina and Prince Brady being the royal children."

Chrom and Maribelle? That's a pairing I never see. Then again, I suppose the actual world of Awakening isn't going to correspond to the preferences of a fandom in an entirely different world.

"Severa's parents are Sir Frederick and Wing Commander Cordelia." Kjelle continues. "Princess Lissa is married to Sir Vaike, and their child is Prince Owain. The last I can tell you is Cynthia, who's parents are Commander Sumia and Father Libra."

"Right." I don't think Sumia and Libra are a pairing you can do in the game, which is a bit worrying. Still, I compile all that information in my head. As mothers I don't have to consider Nowi, Tiki, or Panne due to the obvious physical traits they would pass down (even if that doesn't happen in-game, but I think I can safely assume that would happen here) and the same goes for Lissa and passing down the Brand of the Exalt. I'm ignoring second-generation units as potential mothers due to it being simply unlikely in my eyes. Tharja, Sully, Maribelle, Cordelia, and Sumia are now out of the running. "So that leaves Miriel, Cherche, Olivia, Anna, Flavia and Say'ri…" It could also be Aversa I suppose, but that strikes me as exceedingly unlikely. Emmeryn isn't likely due to passing the Brand as well. "That would be four likely possibilities: Miriel, Cherche, Olivia, and Anna. Taking into account that Morgan doesn't have dark skin like Flavia, or epicanthic folds like Say'ri."

You know, four possibilities assuming my methodology isn't totally wrong to begin with.

"Epi-what folds?"

"Uh… squinty eyes." I think that's a rude way of putting it, but I want to make sure Kjelle knows what I mean.

"Ah." She nods. "But that doesn't give you the answer you want."

"No." I affirm. "But it narrows it down a lot more, which is still useful."

"Won't this be irrelevant once we find the Shepherds and just ask?"

"Assuming Robin is already married, yes, it would be irrelevant. If he's not, then the deduction is still useful. The deduction is also useful if we figure out before we find the Shepherds, because it would just be nice to tell Morgan about her mother."

"You've thought this through." Kjelle sounds surprised.

"As much as I can. There's still the chance that I'm totally wrong. After all, I'm assuming this world roughly follows the rules of the game." I explain. "Maybe Robin married someone that doesn't exist in the game. Maybe he's gay. Maybe Morgan is adopted. Hell if I know for sure. Libra and Sumia isn't a pairing you can do in the game, so I have no idea if Robin will deviate even further."

"Right…"

"What? You sound cautious."

"Your interest in the personal lives of the Shepherds is still creepy, and the fact that you can even make these sorts of deductions is doubly so." Kjelle says bluntly.

"Well excuse me." I grumble. I understand why she's saying that, but come on, at least I have a good reason this time. "Thanks for the info though."

That'll be something I can tell Morgan later, but I really wish I could tell her exactly who her mother is likely to be rather than a few options. That's like saying a cake is one of four things rather than probably one thing. I'd rather know it's probably chocolate than maybe chocolate or strawberry or vanilla or butterscotch. At that point the "maybe" is pointless because there are so many options and you might as well just say you don't know.

Kjelle seems to get this impression too. "Not really enough, is it?"

"No." I admit.

"Well then… hey Noire!" Kjelle suddenly shouts. She then looks at me. "What do you still need to know?"

"At least three of four options left." I say. I can make a deduction from there. "Basically Inigo, Gerome, and Laurent's fathers, or if Anna was involved with anyone."

"Do you remember who Gerome, Laurent, or Inigo's fathers were?"

"Um…" Noire pauses her training. "I think Gerome's was… Sir Donnel. I never talked with Inigo much. Laurent's father is Duke Virion. He taught me to shoot."

Okay, okay! So, that leaves just Anna or Olivia. "Do you know Anna?" I ask eagerly.

"Which one…?"

"There should have been one that joined the Shepherds."

"I don't know."

That's a shame, but two options is much better. I have a stupid excited grin on my face and Kjelle is shaking her head at me. Screw you Kjelle, I'm happy. You can be a killjoy some other time.

Morgan returns with wet hair and a thoughtfully scrunched-up face. Her eyes meet mine, and noting my excitement a smile creeps onto her face as well. She doesn't even know why I'm excited, but she's still happy about it.

As if I didn't deserve Morgan more than I already don't.

"What's up?" She asks quickly. "What happened? Did we find something? The Shepherds? Another kid? Free food!?"

"No, no, and no." I smile back. "Nothing so drastic."

"Did we find… gold?"

"No."

"A cool weapon?"

"Still no."

"A rare animal."

"No."

"A new girl for your collection?"

"Unfortunately, no." I sigh dramatically. "Something much more simple."

"C'mon, tell me!"

"I've managed to narrow down your mother to two possibilities." I say. "Probably, assuming my logic is sound."

Morgan stands up straight with her eyes wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. Kjelle and Noire knew enough for me to make some more conclusions." I say. "It's either Anna or Olivia."

"Cool!" Morgan gasps. "Uh… who are those?"

Right, of course those names are going to mean nothing to her. "Anna is a merchant. She has dozens of identical sisters. All of them have red hair and are quite money-obsessed. Olivia is a dancer, and was employed by Khan Basilio. If she's your mother, that will also mean you have a brother."

"Woah… will he know who I am?"

"Based on the game, yes." I say cautiously. "That said, his knowledge of you may not line up so well considering you're likely from a different future world than everyone else. That's speculation on my part…"

"But logically that makes sense." Morgan says. "Right, okay… woah… I might have a brother… what's he like?"

"Inigo is a flirt. A huge flirt." I say. I have the option here to tell Morgan the reason why inigo is a flirt, but I think that falls into the territory of personal information that I shouldn't be giving out without his permission considering he usually hides that information. "And he gets turned down constantly."

"That's going to be so much fun…" Morgan smirks.

"Looking forward to seeing him failing?"

"Yep. Nothing is funnier than seeing someone who thinks they're cool failing miserably." She says cheerfully.

"You're going to be such a nice and supportive sister, aren't you?" I say sarcastically.

"Oh you know I am." Morgan says with a somewhat evil grin. "Even if I'm not his sister, I'm going to have a lot of fun with him."

I don't envy you Inigo. Also, my money is on Olivia being Morgan's mother (if only because Anna strikes me as a bit too self-centered to get married). Then again, my whole time spent in Awakening's world has been one big lesson in "Don't judge a person by their video game representation", so maybe I shouldn't cut Anna out of the running.

Either way, narrowing it down to two options isn't bad. Unfortunately it will be a while before we can get confirmation on which one is the right one (or if I'm totally off) either from Nah knowing or from finding Robin and the Shepherds.

My non-existent money is still on Olivia though.

###

"Is this foreign…?" I ask quietly. I gesture subtly to the simple red book on the merchant's display stand.

We found another moderately sized town on our way across Ferox. As per usual when we find one of these places, me and Morgan check out any local stores and passing merchants to see if there's anything of interest. Through these trips Morgan has accumulated a pouch full of random trinkets including: a pair of deer bone dice, a set of ten sewing needles (no thread), a stone charm that looks like a dragon (non-magical), a wooden hair clip, deer bone tweezers, two-dozen small wooden marbles, a deer bone knife hilt with an ornate design carved into it (with no blade), and a single dented horseshoe.

I don't think she'll find a use for half of those things. They were all cheap though, costing only a copper or two a piece because most of them were items the shop or merchant was trying to get rid of (so basically bargain bin stuff).

Anyhow, the book. It's just a red book. It's small, looks cheap, has no cover art (as you'd expect from a medieval book I suppose), and is scuffed and scratched all over. All that remains is (what I presume is) a title that was actually stitched into the cover in brown thread.

"Hmm?" Morgan peeks at it. "No, that's standard Arcanean."

"What we're speaking right now?"

"Yes."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"I can't read it."

"Well-" Morgan starts to say something, pauses, then mutters. "Oh… You know how to read and write in your world I presume?"

"Yep."

"So our written language is different."

I sigh in disappointment. Somehow this revelation kinda stings. I like reading, and now I can't even do that. "Yep."

Morgan nods solemnly and leans against me. "I'll teach you at some point."

"Thanks." I mumble sadly.

"Incidentally, I think it's erotica judging by the title."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm really not." She grins. "I was curious there for a second if you were making some sort of joke."

"No way I would have had the guts to do that." I say. I honestly can't see myself doing that.

"I would have."

"Yeah, I know."

"Maybe I still will."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"I can totally use this to tease Inigo when we meet him." Morgan muses. "Like giving it to him as a gift to numb the sting of rejection."

Giving him erotica to help him cope with not getting a date? Wow. "You're terrible; and lewd." And she's already considering ways to mess with Inigo too. "Why don't you just say to his face that you think he's a sad loser who'll never actually get laid? I'm sure that'd hurt less."

"But it would also be less funny." She grins.

"Yeah… yeah it would." I admit.

Morgan ends up buying the book.

###

"Checkmate!"

"Well I guess I shouldn't be surprised…" I sigh.

"This game really is incredible though." Morgan says. "I can see why it was so popular in your world. There's so much to it despite the simple appearance."

"Rub in your tactical genius why don't you?" I sigh. "Well played."

"I do not rub it in…"

"Well yeah-"

"You do that well enough for me on your own."

"And you love every second of it, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do." Morgan smirks.

"At least it's simple to keep you happy." I tease.

Morgan gasps and puts an sarcastically offended hand on her chest. "Are you calling me easy?"

"Yes."

She shrugs. "Eh, whatever. Means I'm happy all the time then."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Happy all the time. Are you?"

"Well not literally all the time. Being an amnesiac is a bit of a downer sometimes." Morgan muses. "But considering the situation, honestly I'm not doing too bad." A grin crosses her face and she leans forward while saying "I'm happy with you if that's what you're asking."

"Good." I mumble, probably blushing fiercely. That's not what I meant, but it's nice to hear. I remember Morgan's endings saying she didn't seem to miss her memory but there's no telling how true to life that is at the moment. That's why I asked. "Incidentally, I never asked, but what do you remember? You know about your father right?"

"More like the only memories I have involve my father." Morgan admits. "I don't "know about him" per say."

"I see…" I nod. "So what are these memories? How great is your dad?"

"He's the best!" Morgan says eagerly. "He taught me tactics! I remember we used to play this board game with figurines. I can't remember what it was called, but there were Pegasus Knights and Wyverns and knights and everything! They were so detailed, and Father painted all of them himself!"

So what I'm hearing is that Robin is a wargamer. That's very fitting and kinda cool. I wonder what the game is like...

"I also remember him helping me with sword fighting and learning to use magic. He actually taught me thunder magic first. I guess I must have decided I liked fire more at some point…" Morgan muses. "Oh, and he took me to see a play at some point. I can remember walking into a theater with him."

I nod silently, not wanting to interrupt.

"He gave me this coat for one of my birthdays." She recalls, and pats her coat. "It's a copy of his original one. He said "any good tactician has to have a good coat!""

Wise words. Probably. Either that or he's a coat fanatic.

"Oh, and he always told me how awesome I was." Morgan says smugly, as if that's different from any other doting father. "Well, strictly speaking he said cute, but he'd probably think that I'm awesome now."

"Now that you're so much taller?" I ask cheekily.

She immediately scowls at me. "Screw you. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet."

I rest my chin on my fist, smirking. "Uh-huh."

"Just you wait. I'll end up being taller than you!" She grumbles.

"Considering you don't even come up to my collarbone, that's quite a bit of height to make up."

Morgan huffs. "Fine, taller than your real body."

"Okay, that's more reasonable… ignoring the fact that you won't get any taller."

"I will. Just you wait! I'm a late bloomer."

"Six years late? Sure." I mean, there are a few conditions that could explain why she looks the way she does if indeed she actually hasn't hit puberty for some reason, but I'm guessing she's done growing

"I am!"

"Sure." I pat her head patronizingly. "In the meantime, rest assured your father will still think you're cute."

"Or maybe he'll think I'm mature and awesome." Morgan huffs. "Unlike you."

"I think you're both of those things… just not physically." I continue to tease. "Don't worry, you're still adorable. Even when you pout at me."

"You're lucky I like you." Morgan grumbles without any real anger in her voice.

"I don't often forget." I say while fighting the embarrassment of saying such a thing with a straight face.

Apparently my poker face is terrible, because Morgan's scowl turns into a grin. "Have I ever told you that you're cute sometimes?"

"No." I mutter, probably blushing horribly. "And I disagree."

"Well too bad, it's not your choice!" Morgan says cheerfully. "I'm going to have to remember this so I can bring it up again! You're so red!"

"Then I'm going to keep making fun of your height." I threaten petulantly.

"Come on, that's not an even exchange!" Morgan complains. "I'm giving you a compliment and you threaten to make fun of me?"

"Your 'compliment' is making fun of me too." I grumble.

"Doesn't mean it's not a compliment." Morgan says. "And I meant that genuinely! Just because you're embarrassed doesn't mean I'm making fun of you! Come on, you compliment me all the time but I can't compliment you? No fair!"

"That is not the issue here." I mutter. I start cleaning up the chess set.

"Yes it is!" Morgan huffs. "Is this just because you're shy? It's totally because you're shy."

I say nothing and put away the chess set in my pack.

"You're just going to have to get used to it then." Morgan declares.

"You're terrible." I complain. At least she's in a good mood though. The whole point of me asking about her father was to put her in a good mood after accidentally bringing the conversation to the subject of her amnesia. I also got to learn about Robin too, so that's a bonus. Mission accomplished I suppose?

"Terribly good looking? Or maybe terribly smart?"

"Those too." I really do stroke her ego way too much. Ah whatever, she likes it. "Just not tall."

"Whatever you say, cutie." She retorts smugly.

Okay, maybe I will have to stop making fun of her height if that's how she's going to respond…

Kjelle is already more involved in the group than Noire. I think it's going to take a bit before Noire really has any part in the story, because the current party is not conducive to her at all.

For those of you familiar with the Varied Awakenings version of this story, you'll know the next chapter is our first Morgan POV. For those of you not familiar with that version… now you know.

This Morgan/Nathan dynamic is basically the same main dynamic I use in a lot of stories. Flirtatious girl/uncertain guy. I could probably write a goddamn essay on the base dynamic and it's variations by this point from how often I use them. Half my main stories involve that dynamic to some extent, though all with slightly different takes. I guess I know what I like and I hope you all like it too. As much as this particular story is self-indulgent, the reason it got made into a proper story at all is because there were enough people who expressed interest in it to make it happen.