Chapter Text
She had lost track of how long it had been and how far she had gone. Months had stretched into years, but she didn't stop. Fódlan had fallen. Her father was missing. Her papa was dead. Everyone she knew and cared about was gone, but she refused to lose hope. She continued her travels, long and hard as they were, a single purpose driving her along.
To find her missing father.
She couldn't remember much about him, having last seen him when she was two. Her papa had told her stories of a freckled, bright-eyed, silver-haired "half-knight" who aspired to be better in spite of the difficult challenges life had thrown at him. They painted quite the picture of her father. Of her own memories, there wasn't much, but what little she did recall, she clung tightly to. It kept her going, even when everyone had feared that he was dead -- they knew he would never have abandoned her.
No, she had thought. He's not dead. I just know it. He lives. And I will find him.
Hill and dale, sea and shore, she traveled. The seas of faces she saw all seemed to blend together day by day. Night by night, she laid awake, thinking of her family.
The barely remembered father who sang her to sleep every night.
The aunt and uncle who fought valiantly to keep her safe before they too did not come home.
The papa she didn't meet until after her father, aunt, and uncle were already gone, taking her in when she had no one left.
The grandmother she rarely saw for how frail of health the woman was.
The grandfather who doted on her for the time she knew him until he gave his life to save one of her new uncles.
Said uncle who struggled for a long time to make peace with his stepsister, but make peace they did for the future of Fódlan.
Said stepsister who became an aunt to her and gave her piggyback rides around the monastery, wanting at once to shield her from the horrors of the war and make sure she knew that the world can be a very cruel place.
So many people that she had come to call family. And they were all gone. All she had left were memories and a feeling, a vague line tugging her along, pulling her to a destination she knew not where, but what she did know was that at the very end of that line would be her father, waiting for her.
I'm coming, Dad. I promise.
----------
She is in Castle Gaspard. The halls are empty. Every step she takes echoes along the walls. She enters a room she knows well. It is the nursery, but it is not empty. There in front of the crib, a man stands, his back to her. He's wearing a long black and purple coat trimmed in gold, a design foreign to Fódlan, but that's not what takes her aback. What does is the hint of silver hair peeking out from under the hood.
He pulls the hood down and turns to face her. She gasps. It's hard to see in the room, but she can make out bright green eyes, a dash of freckles across the bridge of his nose, traits she inherited.
It's been many years, but she'd know him anywhere. "...Dad?"
He smiles. "Hey, pumpkin." His voice sounds so young. Is this how he should sound? She doesn't remember, it's been so long. "I'm sorry I've been gone all this time. I'm a bit lost and can't get home." His smile falters. "I'm not sure if I ever can."
"What do you mean?"
He waves his hand. "It's not important right now."
She's not so sure about that, but she lets it lie for now. "I miss you."
His smile turns sad. "I miss you too, pumpkin." The smile disappears. "I have to go."
Her eyes widen as she steps towards him. "What? No, Dad, please! Stay!"
"I wish I could, sweetie." It's clear from his tone that he speaks the truth. "But before I go, I have something for you." He reaches into his coat and produces what looks like a stuffed toy. "I made this for you. I wanted to give this to you a long time ago, but... better late than never." He takes a step forward and places the toy in her hands, then looks her in the eyes. His are so tired, but endlessly kind, just as she remembers.
"Be a good girl, Morgan. I love you."
She awoke with a start, sunlight streaming in her eyes. Her dreams of her father were always hazy at best, but this was incredibly vivid, as if it had really happened. She sighed and sat up, stretching as her eyes landed on--
She froze. In her lap was a toy. It was the same toy her father gave her in the dream. With it being morning, she could now make out the toy's features. It was a stuffed grey pegasus, made out of a soft material she didn't recognise, but she could tell it had been crafted with love and care. Her eyes welled and she hugged the toy tightly.
She named it Loog the Pegapony.
It was childish, but from then on, she carried Loog around with her everywhere she went. She had no idea how it came to her in the real world, but she chose not to question it, lest her dad's gift be taken away from her.
The toy, her father's archer jacket, and Mercurius, inherited from her papa, were now the only physical reminders of family she had left.
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It was moments like these where she was glad her papa taught her how to fight. She had come to another strange new land, but something was off. There were few people around, and it soon became clear why. The towns she passed were utterly destroyed. Such devastation. She wasn't sure she should stick around, but the pull was at its strongest. Her father was here somewhere, she knew it. But what was happening here?
The sounds of weapons clashing caught her attention. Peering into the distance, she could make out a small group of warriors fighting off... What the hell were those things? They looked like people, and yet they didn't quite move like they were human at all. And they were advancing upon the warriors like a flood threatening to wash them away.
What would Dad and Papa do?
Her dad would want to help those struggling warriors survive and protect the village. Her papa would draw iron, rush in, and fight.
She could do both.
Drawing Mercurius, she ran towards the battle. Her Crest flared as the blade arced through the air, slicing clean through a human-but-not-human fighter that had a girl pinned to the ground. She held out her hand to help the girl up, who reluctantly took it.
"Thanks... I guess," the girl mumbled. She was suddenly reminded of her papa, but there was no time to reminisce. These... whatever they were needed to be taken down.
Goddess, grant me strength...
The battle continued until finally, the last of the strange inhuman fighters were slain. Everyone regrouped, assessing injuries. Thankfully, none had perished. She looked around at the group, taking note of their appearances. An austere-looking priest who seemed to be on the verge of tears. The girl she had saved earlier, sporting long orange pigtails. A quiet wyvern rider being fussed over by a girl who seemed too young to be a pegasus knight. An even younger girl with long pointed ears who she swore had become a dragon during the battle -- Like Dad's stories. A tall, frightened man with rabbit-like features. A girl in heavy armour, wiping some sort of debris off of her lance. A timid archer who seemed much more ferocious in battle. A swordsman with an injured arm, being tended to by a skilled mage. Another swordsman with a turned ankle, assisted by who she could only describe as his sister for how similar they looked -- if she squinted, she could almost see something in their eyes, but... what? The sister looked to be only a few scant years younger than herself, the brother barely younger than that.
The girl set her brother down on a nearby rock while the priest came over to handle his ankle. She looked up at her, panting from the waning adrenaline of the battle. "Thank you," she said. "You have my gratitude for assisting us. Might I have your name, ma'am?"
Nodding, she replied, "My name is Morgan Vittoire Fraldarius. And you?"
"I am Princess Lucina Lowell." Lucina gestured to each person in turn. "This is my brother, Inigo--" The swordsman with the turned ankle. "--Brady--" The priest. "--Gerome--" The wyvern rider. "--Cynthia--" The pegasus knight. "--Noire--" The archer. "--my cousin, Owain--" The swordsman with the hurt arm. "--Laurent--" The mage. "--Yarne--" The rabbit-like man. "--Kjelle--" The armoured girl. "--Severa--" The pigtailed girl she saved. "--and Nah." The pointed-eared girl.
Morgan nodded again in greeting, then asked, "What is happening here?"
"Ylisse has fallen to the Risen--" Was that where she was now? Was that what those inhuman fighters were? "--under the control of the fell dragon."
"Fell dragon?"
Lucina nodded. "Grima. He killed our parents. All of them. And he will not stop until all of humanity is wiped out. All of us standing before you today are..." She swallowed thickly. "We're our own last hope."
As if Fódlan falling to what her Aunt El called "those who slither in the dark" was bad enough, now there was a humanity-ending dragon on the loose? Goddess, these people needed help. Badly.
"You're a very capable swordswoman, Morgan," Lucina said, "and you fought to save Ylissean lives today. We would greatly appreciate any help you could provide."
Morgan weighed her options. She had to find her father, she couldn't stop her search now. But these people were fighting an uphill, possibly losing battle, and they would not be able to continue for much longer as they were. They needed all the help they could get.
What would Dad and Papa do?
Almost as soon as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. Her father would help, much like in the storybooks both he and later her papa would read to her. If there were battles to be fought, her papa would be at the forefront of the fighting.
She could do both. She will do both. She must.
"You have my sword, Lady Lucina."
----------
Loog saved her life one day.
Gerome had given her grief over bringing a toy everywhere, especially into battle, but Morgan refused to leave it behind. Sure, her beloved pegapony suffered the usual wear and tear over time, but her Aunt Bernie taught her how to sew. So long as there was extra thread available, she made sure Loog was fixed up good as new, and she did her best to keep the soft material clean.
It was during another skirmish with the Risen that it happened. She'd foolishly left her flank wide open, allowing a Risen archer to snipe at her. She gasped as the force staggered her, but she remained standing. "Huh?" Peering into her coat, she saw that the arrow had pierced not flesh, but stuffing. The arrow hit Loog. As the archer poised to fire again, she wasted no time, rushing forward and cutting the archer down.
After the battle was over, she sifted through the newly acquired supplies Cynthia picked up the other day, finding a spool of deep, dark blue thread. If it caught the light just right, it looked like the same shade of blue her papa's hair was, the same as her own. Grabbing a needle, she set to work repairing the hole. When she was done, she showed the others her handiwork, affectionately calling the sewn-up hole Loog's battle injury.
Gerome never gave her grief over the toy again.
----------
Lucina stood before the group, her gaze solemn, but determined. They all still felt the sting of their failure acutely. Without all five Gemstones, they can't restore the Fire Emblem. The Rite of Awakening was incomplete. Falchion may have more power now than it did before, but not anywhere near enough to defeat Grima. Everything they had been through up to this point was for naught.
"Friends, this isn't the end," Lucina started, getting everyone's attention. "I have conferred with Naga, and she may have an answer for us."
Laurent asked, "What might this answer be?"
Sighing, Lucina answered, "She will send us back. Back to before Grima was resurrected."
"Time travel?" Severa's sarcasm never failed to remind Morgan of her papa. Perhaps they would've gotten along.
Lucina nodded. "It sounds unbelievable, but she can do it. If we can prevent Grima's rise to power... we can save our parents. Save Ylisse..." Save the world, Morgan knew she wasn't saying. She probably didn't dare hope to think that big. One problem at a time. "I'm not sure exactly how far back we're going, and there is the possibility of coming across our parents when they were only our age, so we'll need to take precautions."
"Here," Gerome spoke up, handing her a beautifully crafted dark blue butterfly mask. "Use this. Your Brand is too obvious."
"How about me, hmm?" Inigo smiled and batted his eyes at Gerome. Definitely something Uncle Syl would do.
Gerome glared at Inigo. "Don't push your luck. I don't have any other spares."
Inigo shrugged, playful smile still on his face. "I'll make do, then."
The princess then turned her attention to Morgan. "I know you came here for a different reason, and we all appreciate the help you've given us. I'll understand if you choose to part ways now so that you can continue your search for Lord Gaspard."
Morgan drew her gaze to the ground and sighed. It was true, that was the only reason she was here in Ylisse. That pull was what bade her stay, that gut feeling that he was there in Ylisse as well. It begged the question: How long had he been here? Why was he here?
...Would they go back far enough that she could get that answer?
In any case, even in the past, her new friends would need help. And she wasn't about to abandon them.
Bringing her gaze back up, she spoke firmly, "I'm with you. My father was never one to turn his back on the people who needed his help. Besides... I have the feeling he's been here for a very long time. I can still find him, even in the past, and I'll at least know he's not going anywhere."
Lucina smiled. "Thank you, Morgan." She returned her attention to the group. "We make for the Outrealm Gate posthaste. We haven't the time to wait for first light."
----------
While there was much more greenery present than in the future and the realm generally much more peaceful, the past was no different from the future in terms of the pull towards her father. That meant her theory was correct, he was here the whole time. It still didn't answer the how and why, but she could worry about that later. Right now, she needed to find a way to get back to her companions. How in Sothis and Naga's names did they get separated like this?
She was currently in a set of frozen, flooded ruins, doing her best to avoid splashing what water wasn't iced over as she manoeuvred around each toppled pillar. She heard footsteps approaching. "No way they're friendly," she murmured to herself. "And likely more down those stairs..." Peeking around the base of a broken pillar, she spotted advancing Risen. "Dammit!" she growled. "They must've followed me here..." Her gaze drew skyward for a moment. "Goddess, how long have the Risen been walking the earth?"
She drew Mercurius just as a Risen myrmidon came at her, blade raised to strike. She parried the blow and knocked him back with her boot. As the myrm tried to clamber to his feet, she swung her sword in an arc, cutting the Risen's head off clean. "Phew..." she panted. "So much for trying to be stealthy."
The sound of boots sliding on ice sent her on alert. She swiveled, expecting to find another Risen fighter, only to see a blue-haired swordsman with a familiar looking sword. "Hmm? Who are you?" she asked the stranger.
The man's voice was strained as he struggled for traction on the frozen ground. "I would- ask you the same." He panted once he got his footing situated. "More importantly," he continued, "why are you here? This is hardly a safe place to be wandering alone." He gestured to her sword. "Armed or not."
"My reasons are twofold," she replied, "and I grew up in terrain like this, so it's not so dangerous for me." Not quite the truth. This place was a bit warmer than Faerghus, but still rather cold. She missed home. "In any case, my name is Morgan. Yours?"
"I'm Chrom," he answered.
Morgan's eyes widened. She knew that name! "Chrom? You're Lucina's father!" Hell, she hadn't meant to blurt that out for the world to hear.
Chrom calmly nodded, much to her surprise. "Yes. I guess you came back with her, then?"
Oh. He knew. Well, she supposed that made things a little easier. Plus, it eased her mind to know that at least Lucina managed to reach him. She wondered who else made it. "You presume correctly, sir," she answered. "I came first and foremost to find my father. With everything that's been happening, though..." She shook her head. "I couldn't in good conscience not offer my assistance." She added softly, "I'm sure Dad would understand if I'm delayed in reaching him..."
Chrom smiled. "Your father raised a thoughtful young lady."
"If only," Morgan said morosely. "My papa was the one who raised me. Or- did his best to." Her gaze drew down to the ice. "My father's been missing since I was a child, and my papa is no longer alive in my time..."
"I'm so sorry, Morgan," Chrom spoke, tone solemn. "I don't know if we'll cross paths with your father here, but if you'll lend your sword, hopefully we can search for him along the way."
This man was so kind, just as Lucina described. He had a halidom to look after, he didn't have to offer assistance to help find her father. He didn't have to do that. But her theory was right. Her father was here, she knew it. He wasn't going anywhere. Grima should be taken care of first. Dad will understand.
Morgan raised her gaze back to Chrom and nodded. "Thank you, sir. I would ask no more of you. And don't worry." She readied Mercurius. "Papa taught me how to fight and defend myself. You just lead the way."
----------
Chrom wanted her to meet with his tactician, Robin, as soon as she was able so she could be added to the Shepherds' roster. "A swordswoman of your calibre will be a great asset to the Shepherds," he stated as they made their way to Robin's tent. "Your papa must've been a fine swordsman himself."
"He was." She smiled fondly. "Second to none. Of course, he had a habit of overtraining, but he always made time for me. Perhaps he wanted to make up for the time that was lost. He didn't know I existed until I was a mere toddler." She quickly added, "Through no fault of his or Dad's. Believe me, my father tried his best to reach him, and Papa would've come much sooner had he known." She huffed. "My grandfather's secretary withheld his letters." She gave Chrom a look that expressed her irritation for the event she spoke of. "Needless to say, that secretary is no longer a secretary."
Chrom chuckled. "At least you got to meet him."
Morgan hummed and nodded, then noted the tent they came upon. "Oh, is this it?"
"Mmhm." Chrom led her inside, addressing the hunched over figure behind the desk. "Hey, Robin! We have a new recruit, one of Lucina's companions."
"That's great!" That voice was very familiar. She noted Robin's cloak looked very similar, if not identical, to the one her father wore in her dream all that time ago, right down the tiniest details. Wait a minute... "Give me a second, I'm- trying to- find this-- Ah! Here it is!" He stood back up and--
Morgan gasped loudly. There was no way. The youthful voice. The silver hair. The green eyes. The freckles. There was no way! Was this real!?
Robin panted as he set the heavy tome on the desk. "Probably should keep that somewhere that's easier to find," he chuckled.
"Oh, my Goddess! It-it's you! It's really you...!" All these years, after all she'd been through, here he was. He was here! She finally found him! Finally...!
"Huh?" she heard Chrom murmur beside her.
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? I'm- sorry, have we met before?" It stung to hear, but she had to remember that she was much older now. "If we have, I'm sorry to say I- don't remember who you are, or- much of anything before I met Chrom."
...What? Her world came to a screeching halt. "You- don't remember?"
Robin shook his head. "I'm afraid not, no. Not for lack of trying, believe me, but- amnesia isn't cured overnight."
Amnesia...?
He shrugged. "I don't even know my own name," he admitted. "'Robin' is just something I pulled off the top of my head, to be honest with you."
Morgan was silent for a moment as her lip wobbled. "Your name is Ashe," her voice wavered with emotion. "Ashe Durand Gaspard."
"Ashe?" Robin blinked, then rubbed his chin in thought. "Ashe..." He smiled a little. "That- does sound right..." He chuckled. "Yeah. That is my name. Ashe. I guess that mystery's finally been solved, eh, Chrom?"
Chrom looked at Morgan. "I guess so."
Robin -- Ashe -- tilted his head. "How'd you know that? Not that I'm not grateful, I'm just curious."
Morgan struggled to keep her voice even. "I know- a lot about you. And your life. Y-you grew up in western Faerghus. Your family name was Ubert before you were adopted. You were a student a-at the Officer's Academy. You a-and a man named Felix, you--"
"Felix?" That got his attention. "I know that name," Ashe murmured.
She grew hopeful. "You remember him?"
"Bits and pieces," he replied. "Perhaps you might know, were Felix and I-- um-- were we a couple?"
It was something. She'll take it. She nodded.
Ashe smiled a little. "I thought as much." His gaze refocused on Morgan. "What else do you know?"
Morgan braced herself. "You both had a daughter together," she said. "You named her after your mother and his. You sang her to sleep every night and read her stories of- knights and chivalry before she was old enough to understand what either of them were."
"Wow..." Ashe's gaze drifted elsewhere, as if trying to remember everything she just told him. "It's not- immediately coming to me, but... it's good to know." His brow then furrowed. "Wait, hold on, I... You said I sang my-my daughter to sl-- Gods, I have a daughter!?" he cried in shock, then chewed on his lip. "What was the song...?"
"Robin-- er, Ashe," Chrom corrected himself, "you shouldn't force it."
"No no," Ashe said. "I feel... just this once." He looked back up at Morgan. "Do you know what the song was?"
Nodding, she sniffed, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
♪Close your eyes...♪ Her voice wobbled. ♪Have no fear...♪ She gulped. ♪The monster's gone... he's on the run... and your Daddy's here...♪
Ashe suddenly grimaced and clutched his head. Chrom voiced his concern, but Ashe waved him off. "Keep- keep going," he grunted, rubbing his temples.
Morgan wasn't sure she should, but she did as she was told. ♪Before you go to sleep... say a little prayer...♪
"Nngh..."
She stopped, concerned over the pain Ashe was in, but he made a gesture for her to continue. Continue she did. ♪Every day... in every way, it's getting better and better...♪
"I think... Augh..." He grimaced again. "Go on."
"Ashe..." Chrom warned, concern evident.
Eyes welling, Morgan continued.
♪Before you cross the street...♪ Ashe's grimace vanished, his eyes clear. ♪Take my hand...♪
At the next line, Ashe's voice joined hers.
♪Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans♪
Ashe drew his gaze up to her, taking stock of her before he gasped softly, his eyes widening in surprise. "Morgan?"
The dam broke, tears freely falling as a sob tore free. "Dad!" She ran forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Ashe and sobbing into his shoulder. He remembers me...! He really does remember me...!
"How could I have forgotten...?" His own hold tightened, his voice pained. "Oh, pumpkin, I'm so sorry!"
"I-It's okay, Dad..." she hiccupped, voice muffled by Ashe's cloak. "W-We'll put your memory back... Piece by tiny piece if we have to...!"
Behind her, Chrom hummed thoughtfully. "I said we'd look for your father, and he was right under my nose the entire time these past two years." He chuckled. "Who'd've thought?"
Two years. She must be nearly four years old in this timeline. That meant her papa was still alive at this point. Everyone back home was still alive, and Fódlan was still standing. Perhaps... if they can stop Grima in time and save Ylisse... could they save Fódlan too, and bring Ashe home?