A/N: Apologies to my usual readers for being glacial in updating, just been debating with myself in where to take Babylonia and whether or not to begin on SupCom: ME 3 just so I can keep both sides coordinated more easily. In other words, writer's block. I don't usually write one-shots, but when reading some of the more tragic pieces of Avatar/Lucina work this idea blindsided me and wouldn't let go. Let's see if I'm remotely near acceptable in my one-shots.

WARNING: If you don't like vicious hate-rants by now-dead daughters toward the irresponsible mothers who murdered their father, cost them their memory, caused them to decide to flee for their life across timelines, murdered their father again, and cost them their lives, do not read this.

UPDATE: A couple plot problems and a bit more development added as of Jan 1, 2014.

Morgan's Memory

Lucina's hands trembled violently as she and her parents read her future-borne daughter's last missive. Sumia had found it placed in her pack after the last battle against Grima, and as it was addressed "To Lucina, Grandfather Chrom, and Grandmother Sumia" had called the three surviving members of the family together to read it.

Hello Lucina:

Grandfather, Grandmother, I must first apologize for the vitriol that I will vent here as I never would in person. I know you're reading this with Lucina, like good parents would even given their daughter is close to their age… so let's get to the point.

Lucina, I was never so glad that I never told you about my Mark of Grima as on that day when you murdered my father and by doing so killed me AGAIN. True, you could not possibly have known that Grima could only be put down for good by someone with the Mark of Grima, and I'd probably have died even if Father had been the one to put him down, but your lack of faith in Father was quite disturbing to say the least. I did not understand what he could ever have seen in you, and with my past memories of you all returned, I still do not understand what you could possibly have offered him. The fact that I only came back in time because your counterpart was after my head, and I mean you were going to mount my head on a pike and display it to the public along with my corpse, showing off the Mark of Grima splashed across my belly, does not help my opinion of you.

You see, Lucina, that day on that hill… was not the first time I had to watch as you cut Father down just because he was born with a mark that you thought too dangerous. And that… is why I can no longer call you Mother. That is why I did not remember you, because the future version of you that killed my Father, before I sent myself back to escape your clutches, went against everything I thought I once knew of her. My mind chose to blot her out of its memories, but deep down, I still recognized you as my Mother when I arrived here. My mind had foolishly chosen to forget why you had to be forgotten and so I did not warn father to be on his guard near you, and I was not on my guard near you. I did not know that even with my presence you would still turn out to be so vindictive, impetuous and judgemental…

Did you know that if I hadn't fled as soon as I watched you kick Father off Falchion after driving it through his chest, back in the timeline I came from, I would have been next? You stared him in the eyes as he begged you with his dying breaths to find someone else to be with but to never forget me, then turned your back on what he asked of you the moment he was gone. You shouldn't be surprised, Lucina, you should know yourself well enough that you should realize that the Mark of Grima on my belly would be enough of an excuse for you to kill your own daughter and hang my corpse out for public display to ensure the world knew that Grima was supposedly out of potential vessels.

Did you know that my memories of you only came back as I watched you slit the throat of the past version of my father, the man you married? That was why I put his body outside your tent for the next day and refused to let anyone move it. It wasn't to stick in your face what you'd done, because I know full well you would be completely unrepentant. It was more to remind myself of exactly what you were capable of, to remind myself of why I always took my baths alone, sneaking into the men's tent to avoid the chance of running into you and your accursed Falchion. I had no desire to die meaninglessly by your claws, Lucina, sorry if you find that disappointing.

Have a good life, Lucina, drown my younger sibling in a basin, strangle her in her crib or suffocate her with a pillow or something. Pretend we never existed, to make yourself more attractive to some other fool of a man stupid enough to fall for someone like you. I have no doubts that her existence will be even more miserable than mine if she actually lives past the days of diapers, cribs, and bottles, because at least Father loved me from day zero, and the version of you I remember now at least acted like she loved me. If my sibling has a Mark of Grima like Father and I did and you don't kill her, she'll probably actually destroy the world because you'll drown her in a sea of loathing instead of giving a shit—no I didn't learn that from Sully so don't even think about blaming her—about her. Of course, you could end up having a son this time around, because that is not my younger counterpart given your current age and what I remember the age of the other you was when I left… but that is irrelevant. I'm happy that my counterpart will never be born, because she deserves to have at least one parent to actually love her. You would never be able to give her that knowing what I, a mere counterpart, am afflicted with.

I have no doubt that at least one of the other Shepherds would blab out the truth of what you did one day, Lucina, so I must tell you this: Better for the kid to die before understanding anything than to grow up in constant fear of some mark arbitrarily showing up on them and needing to flee the castle because they didn't accept your judgement the way our Father did. I wish my mind had been strong enough to withstand the trauma of watching you kill him the first time and remembered what you had done to him, then warned him after I came back to stay away from you. Even if I would never get the chance to see my counterpart—I still remember Kjelle laughing as her younger counterpart tried to use her shoulder pauldron ring as a makeshift hiding place when we visited the children —being born, it would be worth saving my Father from you.

I am sorry that I was not able to protect Father from you on either occasion, Lucina.

I am sorry that I will never be there to protect my younger sibling from you, Lucina.

I am sorry that I never even managed to really protect myself from you, Lucina.

…

…

…I don't know what to put here, "Sincerely" or perhaps "With All Due Respect"? Both would be perfectly honest and appropriate here. I think I'll go with "Sorry, Grandfather and Grandmother, that you had to read this. Try to teach Lucina what love is by example, will you? Oh, and good luck with that, you'll need it."

Morgan.

The post-script was written in a messy, hurried scrawl, without any of the splotchy tear stains the previous parts were dotted with.

PS: I should have realized earlier that I could have ended my yet unborn sibling's future misery before it began by a punch to your abdomen, Lucina. If he or she is even allowed to live to an age where he or she can understand this, convey my apologies for not ending it before he or she became self-aware and only realizing this during the final battle. Oh, and if the legends come true and Father and I somehow return, I will take him to a place where you will never find us, even if I have to give him amnesia again, by blunt trauma this time. You don't deserve the chance to kill him before my eyes a third time. If you ever leave the Shepherds to come look for us, I will fight you to my last breath to keep people who I care about, and who actually give a damn about me, safe from you.

Chrom and Sumia could only look at their oldest daughter sadly as she trembled like a leaf and the paper fell from her hands. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, Chrom catching her and holding her up as she hung limply in his arms. "Lucina, look at me. Morgan was just bitter, she didn't mean it. You saw how happy she was when she met you and realized who you were. You know how happy she was watching her parents be together…" he trailed off as his daughter stared back at him with a dull, defeated look.

"You remember everything she said and did after I killed him, don't you, Father?" Lucina said hollowly. Chrom gulped.

Robin gulped, looking down the blade of his wife's sword, knowing what he said wouldn't make a difference in what she did but also knowing that there was only one way he could come out of this alive, a gamble… Honestly, he wouldn't mind if he could take Grima into death with him, but as a tactician he had an obligation to see the struggle with Plegia to its end, at least. He'd talked with Chrom about the brand on his hand on their way to Ylisstol for his first time visiting the city, and the other man had advised he wear a glove to hide it. Later Chrom had told him the implications of the Brand, by Robin's reckoning, that was after Chrom was completely certain Robin was on his side. "…Very well. My life is yours, it always has been." He looked at her expectantly, not exactly minding either possible outcome, though he would very much prefer to continue.

Lucina's breath hitched harder than before at the dull-eyed look "Don't look at me like that… I love you! Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?"

Robin shrugged and chuckled bitterly "I would give my life for Chrom… and for you." She sniffled as the tears started, and he sighed "Just promise me you'll find someone else who cares for you. Promise me that you won't be alone again. I want you to be happy, Lucina, that's all I've ever wanted." It actually was, given how he didn't have anything from before his awakening in that field with Chrom that he could possibly want. Even Morgan had enough memories of him to know him well, but she didn't have any memories of her mother… hopefully Lucina would give her those memories she deserved to have. He knelt down and tilted his head back, baring his throat to her, knowing full well that this could be the last gamble he ever made, but also knowing that Morgan was a more than adequate tactician should Lucina decide he had to end. If she didn't hesitate to kill him, then perhaps he really had nothing left in this world for him after all, for Morgan… if it was a choice of him or Lucina, then their daughter needed to get to know her mother more than her father.

"Why… no, oh gods no…" Her voice was cracking up. Damn it, Avatar of Destruction, at least, I'm almost certain that's who you really are given that Brand you showed me, stop being so subversive… I… I can't cave in, no matter how much some part of me, well, a majority of my mind, screams at me to stop…

"I'm ready now. Do what you must." He said softly, watching her expectantly, knowing that she had always been the one he couldn't read fully but not afraid of that, hoping the ties that bound them would be enough to make her see reason. He could never have expected her to actually whip her blade up before bringing it down across his throat as she screamed in agony. He grabbed at the large gash in futility as his blood spurted from between his hands with every beat of his heart. His mind was growing fuzzy as he fell forward, feeling himself gurgling, choking on his own blood, reaching for the hem of her cloak before it whipped out of reach with a resounding clang ringing through his dulling mind and a thunderous screech of outpouring anger and hate. You… would deny me even clutching onto you as I die, Lucina? His blurring consciousness asked itself, trying to speak but coming out as no more than a wet bubbling sound escaping from the gap in his throat. He finally used the last of his strength to roll himself onto his side so that he could at least look into her eyes once more and perhaps ask her the question with the stare of a dying man.

He was not remotely pleased to see with his failing eyesight that a girl in tactician's robes had slammed her own sword into Lucina's Falchion again with another roar of pure outrage as Lucina seemed to panic and shout something at the girl that he could no longer understand. There was only one girl in the camp who wore tactician's robes. No, Morgan, no, you should get to know your—

Robin ended.

Chrom roared in fury as he jumped out from his hiding spot where he had been eavesdropping as his daughter's Falchion flashed in the evening light and rent his son-in-law's throat open, eyes round with shock that he'd been too late to save his friend. He never expected her to be capable of something like this toward her own husband—accepting their romance had been easy for him, even though Morgan showing up had left him slack-jawed every time he saw the girl the first week she was here—and thus hadn't butted in earlier. The only reason she would… no… NO I SHOULD HAVE DRAGGED HER TO THE MEETING ROBIN CALLED TO SHOW EVERYONE HIS BRAND, WHERE WE AGREED IT WOULDN'T COME BETWEEN US! "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU LUCINA? I NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D ACTUALLY GO THROUGH WITH IT, OR I WOULD HAVE CROSSED BLADES WITH YOU IF NEED BE TO STOP YOU!" He turned slightly as he heard rapid footsteps approaching with a loud gasp of horror. No, Morgan… you shouldn't have had to see this… WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

Morgan rushed toward her mother's scream and her grandfather's shout from where she had been examining some daisies, leaving her parents to talk alone. She had wanted to tag along as she spotted her mother leading her father out away from camp, but figured that her mother might want a bit of alone time with her father after realizing his vulnerability and mortality. She wasn't interested in watching herself gain and older sibling or something similar… She had never expected this, gasping in pure shock before a wave of rage and hate swept over her like a tsunami. She dropped the daisies she'd plucked and seized the hilt of her sword, summoning magic from her tome as she charged.

Lucina saw her coming, eyes widening as she blocked with Falchion, the first impact knocking flecks of her husband's blood onto her cheeks from the holy blade as her daughter screamed at her. "You killed my father in the here and now just because you remember him killing yours in a future that doesn't exist anymore!" Morgan screeched as she crossed swords again and again with her mother with ghastlier screeches of protesting metal and flashes of the magic she was using to (barely) coat her silver blade to meet Falchion's might.

"Morgan, stop! I don't want to fight you!" But Lucina could see that her daughter was beyond reason already.

"Morgan, no!" Chrom shouted as Morgan swung her sword low with all her strength at Lucina, which the mother blocked with some effort before the crazed teen struck again, and again.

She backed off after a few more bouts and spat at her mother's feet "You've had your revenge, right? Does it taste sweet, delicious like you've always thought it would? I'm glad I'll never have been born, Moth—no, Lucina, because I wouldn't want to be in a family where my mother played my father's affections so that she could kill him without a fight! He loved you so much that he was willing to gamble his life on the belief that you loved him back enough to give him a chance, a gamble he lost. Now I believe it is my turn, isn't it?" She laughed, her voice tinged with hysteria, before silencing her laughter, hissing her next words harshly "I too carry Grima's blood, by your reckoning, so don't expect me to expose myself to you in the future like he did. Dad taught me lots of things, but he never taught me to be wary of you, so I might not be very good at it. Still, I'll need to learn quickly… I don't want to die just yet."

"Morgan, please listen…" Lucina started but Chrom held up a hand.

"You've done quite enough damage, Lucina." There were mutinous rumblings from the small army that had quickly assembled at the screaming and shouting, having heard everything that mattered, a significant chunk of the army, particularly Tharja, was looking at Lucina with disappointment and deep betrayal in their faces. They had, mere hours ago, given Robin reassurances as to their belief in him and wished him luck on seeking out Lucina, who had seemingly been sulking in her tent, for a personal chat. It seemed he'd eventually given up on looking for her around camp and come out to clear his mind before she, to their eyes, came and ambushed him. "Maybe it would be better for you to stay away from Morgan for a little while."

"No, Father taught me the importance of making sure the job got done. If no one objects, I'll take over as tactician from him. Naga knows he didn't carry this army this far to let it fall now." No one objected to Morgan's words that seemed to put most of the army's successes on her father's shoulders alone, for they knew it to be true. She looked at her mother "Lucina, I hope you recover soon, I think you should sit out of the next battle to get over this quicker." The woman seemed to shrink under her burning gaze. She tore her hate-filled eyes away and cast them over the gathered, muttering crowd "I want no one to ostracize her for this mistake. Goodness knows enough of us have made mistakes in our past, is that understood?" Stew in silent agony you bitch. You deserve no better, after all of father's warmth and devotion what do you give him? Half a beheading, that's what. "I'll handle the body, I don't need any help with it." She looked disdainfully at the blue-haired woman whose head was now bowed and whose body was still shaking with silent sobs "I owe it to father at least to make sure no WILLINGLY treacherous hands touch his remains."

Lucina's Falchion fell from her hands and flopped to the ground as she fell to her knees, Chrom picked it up, but offered no aid as she crumbled. She seemed to collapse into herself completely as her daughter hefted her husband's corpse under the arms and dragged him away, curling into a small ball on the blood-stained ground and crying her heart out. Chrom watched his daughter grimly, knowing that she had to bear the consequences of her impetuous actions if she was to learn from them, but wishing that he had been able to see there was more of himself in her than he'd thought, but augmented by a lifetime of decisive action and cutting down opponents instead of the childhood Emmeryn had given him. He could have known she'd do something impulsive and stupid like his father had… Unfortunately, this wasn't something that was in any of their power to fix. Even Sumia was glaring at their daughter with a hard frown and clenched jaw for what she had done before turning and walking off with the rest of the Shepherds, who were either sighing and looking depressed or casting disappointed looks over their shoulders at a wholly oblivious Lucina, who was wailing pitifully. Morgan only returned to grab Lucina's Falchion from Chrom and leave, not bothering to wipe the dried blood off the blade. Chrom let her, because he owed his granddaughter a lot more now than he could ever repay.

When the Shepherds began to convene for dinner, they found Lucina's Falchion, sheath included, stuck into the ground in front of her tent. Robin's body had been leaned up in a seated position against one flat side of the still bloodied blade, his robes stained with his own dried blood and his dead eyes staring ahead, pointed directly at the tent flap, the large, fatal cut across his neck clearly visible. Morgan was spotted with a bowl of cooking oil next to her father's remains, rubbing it into her thick, vibrant blue hair before dropping her robe down to wrap around herself from her arms down instead of covering her shoulders. She was being very careful about not letting the oil run down her body. "Great-Aunt Lissa?" She asked as she prodded the small fire she'd built for herself with a stick.

"Morgan, what are you doing?" Lissa asked carefully, praying it was nothing too foolish.

Morgan smiled "This is the most striking feature I inherited that is clearly from her other than my eye colour and cheek structure, right?"

"Yes?"

"And it doesn't do anything for my combat efficiency, unlike the other things I inherited?"

Lissa was starting to get a very bad feeling about this "…Yes?"

"Very well, you have your Heal staff as usual, excellent… I want you to refrain from using it until I am certain this will scar over."

Lissa blinked, SURELY Morgan wasn't saying what Lissa thought she was saying… "What?"

"Morgan, no!" Chrom, who had caught the last bit of Morgan's words, having just arrived, cried out, moving to stop his granddaughter, but it was too late as she picked up the burning stick she'd been holding in the fire and put it to her head.

Hair is known to burn painfully quickly, and in this case it practically deflagrated. Morgan's eyes were narrowed to keep out the heat a bit as she felt her skin burn on her head, painfully, for a few good seconds as people tried to put it out by trying to smother her as she dodged their attempts with their cloaks, before she let them get her with a bucket of water someone had grabbed. The steaming and hissing was punctuated by gasps of horror and the teenager smiled before collapsing from the pain, hitting the ground knees first and falling to all fours, her scalp feeling as if it was still on fire and was being torn off her head. "Great-Aunt… help me." She croaked before finally falling into the ground face-first, to not let her ravaged scalp touch the ground.

When she finally came to, half the female population of the camp was looking at her with pity and sadness while some others—Sully, Kjelle, Cherche, Severa and Cordelia among them—were either glaring hatefully at Lucina, who was standing stock-still in the opening of her tent, or trying very, very hard to hold Tharja down. The dark mage had been under monitoring for several hours already, due to her violent tendencies toward Lucina at present. "Stop this nonsense, Tharja!" Morgan barked, and the woman she'd actually have preferred to have as a mother—at least then Father would have resisted Lucina long enough for Morgan and Tharja to arrive and blockade her until Chrom could get her to see some sense, although that was a long shot and they might have had to put Lucina down—glared at her for a moment before stopping the struggle. She had been pinned under the collective mass of Sully and Kjelle in full armour, plus Tiki and Anna holding down her arms and Frederick and Stahl her legs, since she'd probably used magic to augment her strength.

Still, there was no mistaking the look of pure hate on her face as she stared at Lucina before huffing and turning away. Morgan made a mental note to never put them next to each other in an engagement, or some unfriendly fire could occur. Still, right now she was more focused on the throbbing pain on her head over the entire area her hair had once covered, now a large, angry, deep burn that showed her skull in some spots if the reflection off Falchion was accurate. The gaps were quickly closing under Lissa and Maribelle's magic, but it would never be the same again. Both older women were busy lamenting this fact in angry tones and lecturing her, but Morgan ignored them. "Hopefully, this will scar enough that I won't see any blue on this head ever again. I'll probably need to wear a hood to cover it though and to pad myself for a helmet… hmm, seems I burned my eyebrows off too, but not badly enough to scar. I'm glad I still have my eyelashes though, otherwise dust might be a nasty problem."

"Morgan…?" Lucina started, half the camp snorted irritably, though Frederick and Stahl may have been more due to Tharja being let up by Sully and Kjelle fast enough to hit them in the back of the head when she sat up. The blue-haired woman seemed to shrink into herself again.

She was ignored "None of you are to move the body until I dispose of it, and no Lucina you cannot request another tent location. It's dinner time, soldiers, let's get to it. Grandfather, please make sure Lucina comes with us."

"Don't you think it's not worth it to do this to yourself?" Lissa finally asked, having quieted long before Maribelle.

Morgan chuckled and pointed at the shiny burn that covered most of her head now "This? Before I could remember my treacherous mother, I thought it one of the few things I had of her, a reminder that I had once had a mother. Now? 'Tis but a flesh wound. The pain of knowing that I never really had a mother is far heavier upon me at this time."

Even Maribelle stopped muttering angrily while pointing her staff at Morgan's head to gape before spluttering "You remember your mother from before you came here?"

Morgan looked down at the ground, the movement stretching the burn on the back of her head with a sting of pain "I remember now." She said quietly "But I owe her enough to not tell everyone everything. None of it matters anymore anyway, what is done is done, now we just have to destroy Grima once and for all."

"Damn… you." Robin's doppelganger collapsed to one knee as Morgan slashed her blade across his chest "Nngg… Aaaugh…" Her strained as he tried to get back up.

"Now, Lucina, this is our chance!" Chrom shouted, raising his Falchion "I'm going to finish it."

His granddaughter shoulder-tackled him away before he could take even a step forward, a bundle of malevolent energy gathering before her hand. "Morgan, what…"

"…WHAT… WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Grima roared.

"You've cost me a lot, Grima, but I am glad that I am you enough." Morgan grabbed the front clasp of her robes with her free hand and tore it open to show a distinct six-eye mark branded across her belly, beginning just under her ribcage and centered at her navel. "Now I can protect everything that's left that I give a damn about."

"WHAT? YOU WOULD… NOT DARE!"

Morgan snorted at the ancient dragon's theatrics "Just watch me." She cast what she expected to be her last spell at the immobilized target. "Everyone, get the hell out of here! Take three aboard every flying mount we've got and run for it!" She felt herself begin to disintegrate as Grima's body began to fall apart.

"Morgan, no!" Chrom shouted in horror as Sumia scooped him and Lucina up on her pegasus, as he helplessly watched his granddaughter fall away and fall apart, Sumia working to follow as closely as possible without having her mount lose control too.

"MORGAN!" Lucina's piercing scream made Sumia's ears hurt as Grima's fall faltered momentarily from a muscle spasm that beat its wings once.

Morgan smirked hollowly as she looked up at them, "Ashes beget ashes… dust begets dust." Everything hurts… so much… she could feel her body falling apart, failing, ceasing… she waved farewell to her two grandparents and their daughter, feeling pure agony surge through her every time she moved. She welcomed it and everything it signified. I'll be with you soon, Father… and away from that woman for good this time.

"Wait, NO! MORGAN, NO!" Chrom shouted as he reached to try to grab his granddaughter's waving hand, only to have it crumble away into dust and blow away on the wind as his hand passed through it. She chuckled wetly and shook her head before her face too crumbled and was whisked away by the howling wind of the crashing Fell Dragon, the rest of her body falling apart soon thereafter and the empty set of tactician's robes floating off in the wind, falling under the influence of gravity like a large leaf, weighted down by what few possessions Morgan once called her own.

"Poor Morgan, after all she and Robin did for us…" Lissa sobbed into her sleeve after Chrom told her the story of her great-niece's last moments.

"No, don't you remember what Naga said? She said that Morgan and Robin would both come back if our ties were strong enough…" Chrom tried to tell her sister.

"Your point being?" Tharja asked icily after disembarking from Nowi's back. "I thought those ties were cut when your dear daughter tore Robin's throat out and Morgan stopped calling her 'Mother'."

"They both cared enough to give their lives up for us, willingly, that says something." Lissa countered.

"I know their type, Robin, maybe, but Morgan… no, unless her father comes back, in which case she'll return with him to protect him. Otherwise, she's the sort who gave her life up because she had nothing left to live for, she found continuing to be pointless, that was why she had no problem dying." Aversa growled, having grown rather friendly with the young tactician girl after joining up with this motley band of lunatics for lack of better things to do in life… and for payback against Grima, but that wasn't the point.

As the army talked among themselves, Chrom stepped onto a medium-sized boulder and waited for them to quiet themselves, which eventually occurred. This was probably the first time he was glad everyone kept a few paces' distance from Lucina except Sumia and Lissa, who sometimes tolerated her, this made sure he had the space to be immediately obvious to the crowd. "Robin and Morgan secured for us what matters most, a future. Now it is our duty to protect what was given. I vow to give my all to healing the damage this war has brought upon the realm. When they return, I want them to see what their sacrifices bought." He raised his voice and his head "Robin… Morgan… if you can hear me… you will always have a place here with us. Remember that… Always…"

Morgan was suddenly tempted to do what she had done in the past when trying to regain her memories of her mother, namely, bashing her head into a post repeatedly. "Father, you CANNOT be serious."

Robin sighed again at his daughter's theatrics "Everyone makes mistakes, and if they don't even know about their mistakes, how could they possibly learn from them? I made a mistake when I gambled my life on your mother not being more impetuous than her father. You made a mistake when you decided your memories were too horrible to keep and wiped them. Chrom, Lissa, Sumia, Cynthia, everyone made mistakes. Your mother—"

"Don't call her that!" Morgan screamed before taking a few deep proverbial breaths "If you want to have her kill you AGAIN… please, I beg you to make sure that I'm not there to see you die again. Twice is enough, don't you think?"

Robin sighed AGAIN "Morgan, there is no reason for her to try it again, and I won't submit this time because of that fact."

"She's still far better a sword user than you, Father, and the closer people get, the shorter the blade they need to stab you. You know this to be true."

"You've tortured her daily since I died, don't you think this is quite enough? It sounded like you're resigned to me going back anyways, at the very least, I should give her some closure…"

Morgan threw up her arms in exasperation "Yes, I am resigned to it, do you want to know why? Because you're even more pig-headed than Chrom and Lucina are! I'm amazed that I'm not a pig given how much I must have inherited from y'all!"

"Morgan… you're plenty obstinate yourself."

She opened her mouth, then shut it "True, but that's not the point, Father. Just so you know, you owe me. You owe me big time for this. Don't expect me to fully forgive the bitch anytime soon."

"Don't call your mother that!"

Morgan growled at that "She's not my mother, just some other version that's such a perfect mimic that she only missed in where she killed you by less than one and a half hand-spans. I won't forget how Falchion looked sticking out of your back, coated with your blood, in a hurry."

"By that logic I'm not your father either, just another version of him."

"I… fine, you win, Father. Let's get a move on before the stupid who—uh, woman, commits suicide or something."

"Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING." Lissa's voice rang in Robin's ears.

"What do you propose we do?" Chrom muttered, still trying to work the stiffness out of his jaw from seeing his ex-son-in-law (death did annul marriages, right?) and granddaughter sprawled in the field Robin had first shown up in.

"I… I don't know…"

Oh please… don't tell me I'm doing this whole thing over again… Robin's mind groaned. If that's happening… I'll have to make sure I start fighting Lucina before Morgan decides to kill her mother to save my sorry ass.

On the other hand, Morgan was wondering If we're doing all this again, maybe I can be Noire's sister this time! All I need to do is change up the relationships and maybe I'll transform too! At least I'd get a better figure than before. Lucina managed to pass off as a man for so long because I have no idea how she managed to squeeze me out, or feed me, given she's about as flat as Dad and her hips aren't exactly wide… That meant I was always a bit jealous of Noire…

"I see you're awake now." Chrom leaned over the two of them.

Morgan sat up first "Damn, Lucina's not here, ah well, no lasting harm done, so I should probably stop picking on her for what she did to Dad a while back… although if you think I'm going to call her mother you have another think coming, Grandfather."

"Hey there." Lissa felt stupid at only being able to manage that, given she was overjoyed that at least Morgan was… well, almost the same eminently pragmatic Morgan. She at least seemed to no longer be off the deep end whenever Lucina was mentioned.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand." Robin blinked as he saw his Mark of Grima was gone and Chrom pulled him up, while Frederick coughed over-loudly in the background at Morgan throwing off her clothes to look for her own Mark after staring at Robin's hand for a moment. "Welcome back… it's over now."

"I don't know if you're talking about my parents' relationship possibilities or the more obvious answer of the War against Grima, but either way, Grandfather, I'm overjoyed." Morgan said as she nodded to herself and began re-buckling her robes and all. "So, how's my new sibling? Still alive?"

Robin almost cricked his neck as he whipped around "WHAT?"

Morgan looked unimpressed "Dad, kindly do not shout in my ear. For your information, Dad, I think you did fairly well in the months between your wedding and death… you guys sure kept me up with the noise often enough."

Robin was not exactly stupid, although he sometimes—the last time lethally—found Lucina to be beyond his predictive capabilities "I…uh… Lucina…" He cleared his throat and tried to be more eloquent, resulting in a simple "uh oh…" He was wondering now why Chrom wasn't spitting mad at him for letting himself get killed like that, especially given Morgan seemed to no longer be an only child.

A/N: Well, there goes my opinion of what might happen to Morgan if Lucina went through with the confrontation. I hope I didn't go too far in making her the eminently practical type who went half-berserk after her father died but held it all in until the end, only venting in a cathartic letter, but what do I know, I have almost no experience with one-shots anyway.

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