#warrior/mage pairings are so supreme to me

[jadeempire]

the way Yasuko was giving Merrill scary dog privilege before that became a widely used term... sometimes I am staggered by my own genius

[olympeline]

@fireandspiceland’s recent posts made me realise I never knew how much I needed a USUK cardverse/omegaverse combo AU in my life. Well now I do! So have a Situation Involving Them that I just came up with:

The King of each of the four Suit Lands is always an alpha, the Queen an omega, and each kingdom has their own way of choosing their royal pair. In the Land of Spades, the Queen is born with his or her Royal Mark and so taken from their family and raised to rule from a young age. Meanwhile the King gains the Mark once he or she beds the Queen in heat for the first time. This means the Queen is born to rule, but the King can be anyone so long as they’re an alpha. To make sure they get someone worthy, a potential King must face a series of trials. Ending with the most treacherous of all: catching the Spade Queen in the traditional hunting grounds of the Garden of Thorns. Catching the Queen, subduing them, then bringing them back to the castle to be wedded and mated during their next heat. While the Queen can fight to kill, obviously the would-be-Kings can’t. Which puts them at a huge disadvantage right from the start.

The Spade Queen is always a powerful mage so the threat of facing them one-on-one is enough to repel all but the most elite warriors. Nevertheless, there’s usually a new Spade King a year or two after the Queen comes of age. The prize of a kingdom is a big motivator after all. Enough to bring the greatest warriors from all over and make them daring. But - unfortunately for the kingdom - their latest Queen is different. Their latest Queen is one Arthur Kirkland: green-eyed, straw haired, peasant son of a sailor turned Spade Queen-in-Waiting from the moment his midwife spotted the Mark before the cord was even cut. As is traditional, Arthur is a mage. But even for a Spade Queen, he’s not just powerful but stupidly powerful and ruthless with it. He’s also proud, haughty, and absolutely bound and determined that no one, but no one, is going to subdue him. He’s nobody’s broodmare, goddamnit! He’s his own man! Arthur bloody Kirkland is not getting wedded and bedded, not ending up wasting his talents raising litters of babies while some meatheaded brute usurps his place in the kingdom he’s been learning to rule since he was barely more than a babe himself! Arthur has a razor sharp mind and many plans for the Kingdom of Spades. Plans to reform society and make life better for all who live there. Something he can’t do if bound to a Spade King and forced to do his or her bidding. The laws of the land make the King of Spades monarch supreme. The Queen utterly subservient to them and there to birth royal children - Dukes and Duchesses of Spades - who can then be married off to forge alliances with other kingdoms. Excuse Arthur while he seethes at the thought of all of his brilliance being squandered on a life of endless sex followed by birthing royal brats in a nest.

Arthur had his first heat in his early teens and the kingdom officials started the tournaments as soon as he did, confident they’d have a new King of Spades in a year or two at most. Only to grow increasingly horrified as Arthur destroyed every champion brought in to chase him. Most of the time he didn’t even bother to run as a Queen usually would. Instead just calling on his litany of flesh melting, bone shattering spells to finish each encounter in mere minutes. His sixteenth birthday passes, then his eighteenth, nineteenth, on and on. Now the Queen of Spades is close to his twenty-first year and still he’s unmated! Not only that, but his reputation has grown so fearsome that the kingdom officials can barely find any champions willing to face him. The old fossils are close to despair and Arthur is smugger than a smug vendor at a convention of smuggery. He knows if he can make it past his twenty-first birthday then he will legally be an adult and the kingdom’s steward will have no choice but to hand all the powers of monarch supreme over to him. The old King of Spades is long dead and so is the old Queen. Making Arthur the undisputed highest authority in the Kingdom of Spades once he comes of age. Then no one can stop him making himself Queen Regnat, able to rule with no King. Able to change whatever laws he wants. Able to put a stop to these cursed tournaments once and for all and choose his own Spade Prince - not a Spade King, a Spade Prince! Subservient to his Spade Queen! Definitely a Prince - in peace.

He’s so close now, just one more month to go. All the years of training and endless sleepless nights of practicing spellcraft til he keeled over from exhaustion will be worth it. Arthur knows he can do it. He’s powerful now, so, so powerful. Who could ever hope to match the sheer force of his black magic? As far as he knows, there’s only one challenger left who’s been stupid enough not to throw in the towel. A young knight from a minor noble family by the name of Albert or Alfred or some such. Arthur barely listened to the details when Councillor Yao told him he had another challenge coming up. Arthur has practically been through more would-be-Kings than he’s had cups of tea. He’s heard it all before. He’s sure this Alfred or whatever will be no different.

Quite sure.

(This is getting long so end of part 1! Hopefully you guys will be interested in reading more once I type it up. 😘)

[renaroo]

Day 11 Fight: The Never Ending

Disclaimer: Angela and associated characters are the creative property of Marvel Comics Warnings: Canon-typical violence & language Pairing: AngelaxSera Rating: T Synopsis: Angela, former Asgard’s Assassin, former Queen of Hel, and yet her fight is simply not over. Fights are never simply over. And for her part, Sera deeply and truly loves her for it. AngelaxSera. Sapphic September: Fight. 

A/N: I haven’t written for either of these characters before but I just LOVED Angela: Asgard’s Assassin and Angela: Queen of Hel so much I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to give it a swing.

My stories always end as they begin, and that is what must be accepted before you can truly appreciate the words — written or otherwise — of a fallen angel of Heven, of a magician whose responsibilities are more bard than mage, and of a woman whose heart is forever in the possession not of lands or realms but of a warrior whose lust for battle is as long and as endless as the lengths of her tails and tales.

Sera, once of Heven’s known grace, is only as reliable of a source as my beloved’s name is worthy of honor. Though, if you do not honor Angela, once Aldrif Odinsdottir, once the Wingless One, once the Hunt-Mistress, then what relevance has my name or has my word to you is curious indeed.

A vow once was made between myself and Angela, to love each other for as long as there is one another to love, and it was the first of our orders of business upon arriving to Manhattan, city within a city within New York within a New York, as those of Midgard do lack some proper creativity when it comes to their titles. The second was that of conquering what Leah, scion of Hela and introducer of iced cream, called an Ikea. It was conquered, most indeed, the head merchant seemingly content with accepting our offer of cold in exchange for a room of living.

With such things in order, and with Midgardians seemingly easily satisfied with offerings in gold or silver, one would assume that the chapter of the tales of Angela and Sera might fight their end on a new note. One of intimacy and installation of a most curious specific type of cable that was insisted upon by lord of the land of Room 786. But those who would make such assumptions of my tale are not paying attention still.

As I wrote before, my stories always end as they begin. And Angela and I began our story as one who fights and one who tells. Which is why this story cannot come to an end.

For when the one who signifies himself as a Sorcerer Supreme enters our dwelling of Room 786 uninvited and in the midst of dearest Leah teaching former Queen of Hel how to use a peculiar device known as a phone, it is suddenly a story most unusual. As I am asked to fight and my beloved Angela, so short of words, cannot be reduced to tales.

Doctor Strange lives up to his name. Midgardian, Sorcerer Supreme, and one who carries a most unusual style of hair. Nothing I would have ever allowed myself to be seen with even when in Heven I was misjudged as the improper sex. But his request is so unusual and unexpected that even Angela in all of her collectiveness, raised her eyebrow and saved to herself.

“You mean to say, Sorcerer Supreme, that there is a fight for all the realms and it is not my sword you ask for but my heart?” she demands angrily.

No matter the number of times which I am referred to with such flattery, I find my chest warmed with the notion. My Angela still finds me as much her heart as I find her mine. That is indeed a rarity in all the realms between Midgard and Heven which we have seen.

“To be clear, I’m asking nothing of you, just of your wife,” Doctor Strange makes the mistake of saying, only to have Angela’s sword drawn and pointed toward his throat.

“What you ask of one of us you ask of us both,” I clarify, using my tongue for Angela dutifully as always.

“This one thing would be known if you had done the simplest of research,” dearest Leah says sitting upon an Ikea throne as she looks in amusement toward the doctor most strange. “What hope doth have even the Sorcerer most Supreme where my Queen Hela fails in separating Asgard’s Assassin from her wife?”

“There is no offense meant here, and certainly no call to violence,” Strange reiterates.

“You dare to come into Room 786 without invite and tell me what times call for violence after you ask for my heart to fight a battle unknown to us both?” Angela demands, voice vicious and vivacious. A tenor which is always a mage’s pleasure to recount when it is delivered in her defense.

“If you are a Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor, what use could I have as a simple mage to you?” I ask, genuinely unsure of the answer that could be given. “Surely I cannot be more knowledgeable of the outer realms than someone who frequents them. I am more helpful in that of conquering Ikea. I am told my tastes for decor are inspired.”

“The most inspired,” Angela says dangerously.

“My quarters have not a trace of pink within them,” Leah informs the doctor. “It is as if Sera’s eye has looked into the desires of my very soul and known what battleaxe should be hung over any dresser.”

“You have experience in realms that I do not,” Strange explains, stranger still. “My magic interferes with it, but I do not know it. I endanger the balance of magic in this realm when I fight it without proper understanding. And since you have magic from the same realm as this, your help is needed—“

“We share a realm with the creature?” I ask shortly. “What sort of beast could it be if you claim it’s from Heven? The Tenth Realm has only as of recent been given any connections outside of the void and Odin’s cursed ire.”

Strange raises an impressive brow. “It is a two story tall flaming beast with six wings and the emaciated body of a corpse that claims itself as a Seraphim.”

Surprise hits both my heart and myself. We glance to one another then back toward the Sorcerer.

“We may have knowledge of such things,” Angela agrees, putting her sword away.

“You are right, your magic could only cause disruption for your realm,” I agree. “But you are incorrect in believe my magic alone can return a Seraphim to the Tenth Realm! That would require it wishing to return on its own, and face the wrath of the Queen of Angels for having left to begin with.”

“Then you must help me to do just that,” the doctor insists.

“What we must do is of our own determination,” Angela argues back.

“O, by Hel,” Leah says, looking up from her phone. She turns it to face myself and Angela. “The Seraphim makes its stand in what Midgard calls Time Square.”

“The lack of imagination in this realm, it is pitiable,” I sigh.

“Sera, our attentions are required on this matter after all,” Angela announces, standing tall, hand on her sword’s hilt as she looks toward the doctor. “We will come and save the Time Square by returning the Seraphim to Heven.”

“Angela, why the change?” I ask, knowing faithfully that there must be reasoning to everything Angela does.

“I require a test of my skills,” Angela replies. “And, in truth, I have been shown by Odinson’s replacement, the Lady Thor, a place within the Square which dispenses chocolate most delectable. It has been my plans for a week come now to take you and buy you all you wish with as much gold as this Hersheys accepts.”

“I love you,” I say proudly, looking into the face of my Angela.

“You are my heart, Sera, now it’s time for our new fight to begin,” she answers.

And it is, by far, the most poetic that my beloved has ever been.

[takumeat]

pls friend. hit me with all the ephrom goodness u can muster. my children are starving

I AM HERE TO SERVE MY FRIEND.

What to talk about… What about more on theAwakening universe idea?

(PS: I basciallywrote an entire story outline (this is literally Awakening to Chapter 13 andthen some), so this is absURDLY LONG (IT’S 3400+ WORDS). It’s like a story with no dialogue. Also spoilers for Sacred Stones andAwakening. If I get anything wrong from SS, I apologize; I haven’t played thegame, but I know how it ends.)

This all starts out after Southtown as Chrom and the othersare heading to Ylisstol. They pass by another plain and instead it being empty,there’s a body laying down near the tree. Chrom, finding it ironic, leads hisgroup to see who the mysterious person is this time. He’s immediately struckwith surprise.

There’s a green haired man lying down underneath a tree. Anintricately designed lance is laying nearby and the armor he wears is just asdesigned and well-kept. His soft aqua green hair sways against his forehead andhis lips are parted slightly, small breaths falling out. Lissa has to elbowChrom multiple times to get his attention.

The group resolves to bring the man with him for he’s toowell dressed to be a common thief and his lance is one none of them have everseen before. They strip him of his armor and Robin, the little sneak, says thatChrom should carry the man since Frederick no longer has room on his horse.Chrom doesn’t know if he should love his new tactician or hate his newtactician.

Good news, the man eventually wakes as the four of them chowon their bear meat. But upon waking up, the man grabs the closest blade he couldfind, grabs the closest person in reach, and points the blade at the person’sneck. The person in question is Chrom and the blade in question is Frederick’sSilver Lance. Needless to say, the camp dissolved into chaos and panic.

Once everything calmed down and the man was assured that no we’re not kidnappers we just saw youunconscious on the road and found it necessary to bring you to safety, theysat him down to introduced himself. He said his name was Ephraim and that wasall he knew. Well, that and that he could maneuver a lance’s blade likenobody’s business but that’s beside the point. Chrom (Robin and the otherscould see how smitten he was with this man he just met) introduces himself andthe other members of his party. Robin and Lissa greet him kindly whileFrederick looks ready to pounce on him. An uneasy truce is set up between themembers of the group as Ephraim decides to sleep away from them so he won’tbother them. Chrom is obviously saddened by this. Robin jabs him in the ribs.

The Risen come as a surprise to all of them and Ephraimproves his worth to them. With his lance—Siegmund, Ephraim tells him—he’s able to tear apart the zombieswith just a swing. Not only that, he was absurdly good on the battlefield,making it look like he was born to be in a fight. He’s quick and tactical,though also a tad bit impulsive since Chrom actually had to grab his collarbefore he ran into a group of Risen. With that. Chrom resolved to add Ephraimin their band of Shepherds and offers this to him, saying that he could stayfor as long as he wanted to. Ephraim agrees and Chrom’s heart can’t help butsing.

Ephraim is taken to by the Shepherds just as well as Robin is. He’spolite at first to everyone he meets, but he’s such a sucker for sparring, hegoads nearly everyone in the army to go at him at least once. He’s battled withalmost everyone in the army but doesn’t leave them hanging. He advises them ontheir techniques and what they could improve on. For anyone who uses a lance,he shows them his own techniques in case they want to apply them to themselves.Not only does he get along with the warriors of the army, he’s on good termswith the more reserved members. He indulges anyone he talks to and, while hesucks at conveying his emotions sometimes, he’s a supremely good listener.

Robin, the ever-observant tactician, can’t help but smile wheneverEphraim comes by the chat about strategy or with an offer to spar, but he knowsChrom would enjoy it much more. So, under everyone’s noses, he makes sure topair the two up as much as possible. During the fight against the Feroxi BorderGuard, he instructs Ephraim to look for Chrom as soon as possible. In thearena, he makes the two stand next to each other. When off to get Maribelleback from Gangrel, he doesn’t even have to tell Ephraim to go to Chrom when heneeds aid.

Due to Robin’s intervention, Chrom and Ephraim gradually getcloser. They’re seen talking to each other more in the barracks and Ephraimusually asks only Chrom for a quick clash or two now. They chat about moremenial things more often, wondering about each other’s likes, dislikes,interests, etc. The other Shepherds, picking up on Robin’s plan, silently cheerfor the two in the background. They could practically taste it in the airnow—they were falling in love!

But as Gangrel’s efforts to start another war began to increase,Chrom and Ephraim’s budding relationship had to be put on stasis. The attemptedassassination of Emmeryn was only proof of that. The Shepherds were all on edgeafter the ordeal, but there was something nagging Chrom about the girl who hadsaved him. Marth was an odd character, but had seen the future. She knew thatEmmeryn was going to be killed and did her best to save her. But there wassomething about her that was vaguely familiar. Was it Falchion that she held inher hand? Or was it Siegmund that she tried to hide behind her back?

Any remaining thoughts about Marth disappears from his mind once Emmerynis stolen away from him.

The Shepherds, not letting this deter Chrom and Ephraim’srelationship, push the two together as much as possible. Robin often letsEphraim deal with Chrom whenever he needs to vent, ignoring the spearman’sprotests. They progress through the mission, slowly opening up to each othereven more. Chrom can’t help but worry whenever Ephraim isn’t by his side andEphraim finds himself heading in the prince’s way without even realizing it.They’re drawn to each other like moths to a flame.

It was cute, Emmeryn sometimes thought. She was as knowledgeable asthe other Shepherds when it came to Chrom’s little crush on the aqua greenhaired man. She could see how close they were getting and how they just neededa little extra push. She smiles. Ephraim will be good for Chrom and they’lltake care of each other, even when she’ll no longer be there with him. Take good care of Chrom, Ephraim, shethinks before she falls.

Chrom is a mess after Emmeryn’s death. Everyone in the Shepherdsis. Even as they rally against the soldiers that Gangrel sent after they ran,there’s a distinct air of loss and crushing anguish around the group. Theyfight without care, with neither hide nor hare until Basilio breaks the mold,voing for revenge for Emmeryn’s death. However, as most of the Shepherds’sspirits lift, Chrom notices someone who was still grieving.

He walks into Ephraim’s tent to find the man curled up in a ball onhis makeshift bed. He’s clutching onto Siegmund tightly,staring at it unabashedly. Chrom, fearing the worst, hastily snatches theweapon and forces Ephraim to look him in the eyes. The man tells him that heremembers something. He remembers that he had a sister, a younger twin sisterby the name of Eirika. She looked just like him, just with bluer and longerhair. He remembers as he watched Emmeryn fall, seeing his sister near him,broken and bleeding profusely as a large demonic creature descended on her,attacking her. He remembers screaming her name before the memory whited out,leaving him with a hole in his heart. The next thing he knows, he’s pouring hisheart out to the lord in front of him.

He says how he’s afraid to lose Chrom. He always wondered about thelife he led before he lost his memories, about the friends and family he leftbehind. Now with the memory of Eirika’s bleeding form, he’s afraid that he’lllose those he cares about like he lost his sister. Was the pain he felt fromhis sister’s loss enough to kill himself? Was that why he was here, in anotherrealm with nothing to his name except the clothes on his back, his lance, and hisskills? Were the gods cursing him for his inability to protect his sister?Would they take him away from his new family as well? Would they take Chromaway from him, just when he admitted to himself how he felt?

Chrom, taking this all in stride, wanted to prove to Ephraim how hewouldn’t let himself be taken away. So, he cups his hands around Ephraim’s faceand brings their lips together.

After parting, he explains how he’ll always be at Ephraim’s side,no matter the circumstances. Even if he forgets again, even if they getseparated by the very gods themselves, he’ll find his way back to him no matterwhat. He wouldn’t ever be alone again. Not on Chrom’s watch.

The next day, Lissa and Robin find the two curled up in Ephraim’sbed, both with content smiles on their faces. Lissa silently whoops and Robinsighs, defeated. As they walked away from the tent, Robin pulls out severalgold coins from his pocket and hands them to Lissa, who gleefully races to theother Shepherds to collect their bets.

It’s after the fight against Gangrel does their relationship reallystart to pick up. With Chrom as the new Exalt, the need for an heir starts toget bothersome. The Council demands it so that the throne of Ylisse will besecure. Ephraim, now official assigned as Royal Consort, can’t bear childrenand neither can Chrom, so the Council decides there to be a surrogate. Robin,officially the halidom’s tactician, secretly applies for the help of Tharja andHenry. He knows that Chrom wants a child of both his and Ephraim’s blood, butknows how impossible it is. Luckily for him, they have two mages willing to gettheir hands a little dirty. So, after a little discussing with Tharja andHenry, looking in age old books, and creating a multitude of differentincantations, they’ve come up with a little something-something to make theimpossible possible.

Just snatch Ephraim here, knock him unconscious for a few minutes,cast the hex there, maybe a little aphrodisiac too to get the mood going, plophim in their bedroom, and wait for the results. Just to make sure they had theutmost privacy, a little soundproofing spell was casted on the walls in casethey got… noisy.

Nine months, several bouts of fainting, vomiting, screaming,squealing, and constant trips to the kitchen and bathroom later, Lucina wasborn to the Exalt and Royal Consort of Ylisse. She had inherited her father’shair and eye color, though in bright sunlight, her hair takes a greenish tinge.The Brand of the Exalt sits in her left eye, glimmering as she watches her fatherand her dad (no matter how much they insisted on it, Ephraim refused be calledmother by his daughter; he doesn’t care if he’s the one who gave birth to her,he will be called dad instead). Ofcourse, several weeks after Lucina’s birth, there’s unease coming from acrossthe sea.

(Chrom had insisted that Ephraim remain in the capital for Lucinawas still so young, but Ephraim did not allow it. He nearly whacked him overthe head with Siegmund for even thinking about the idea.)

With their daughter left with the wet nurses, the two royals andthe Shepherds departed for Regna Ferox and deal with the threat that came fromacross the sea. The Valmese are relentless in their quest to conquer andbattered the town of the invasion. Realizing they need help and with reluctancefrom Chrom, the group departs for Plegia for aid. Aid which they gladly gave.With enough ships for their army as well as a fully paid campaign, the tripmust have been too good to be true.

And it was, as Robin was mind tortured in front of Chrom’s eyes.Validar raced towards his friend, helping him up and finding out that he wasValidar’s son. Chrom reassured that being someone’s child didn’t make him anyless than who he is. Thanking him, the two were ready to withdraw for thenight, until, Frederick comes, bearing ill news.

The Risen came upon all of them and the Shepherds who came out tofight were hastily dressed. There was no time for formation as they all delvedinto the battle, slashing and stabbing at the Risen soldiers. Chrom couldn’t helpbut cringe as he was separated from Ephraim, but at least his husband was withthe axe swinging Lissa, ready to aid when needed. Together with Robin, theyraced for the lead Risen, who was perched on top of a bridge. As quick aspossible, the pair of lord and tactician slew the Risen, watching as the thingdissolved into black smoke. All at once, the other zombie monsters dissolved aswell. Chrom could almost hear all the sighs of relief from his army as hewatched the healers make their rounds on anyone who was injured. He had let hisguard down.

A shout of “Father!” met his ears as Marth swoops in, parrying ablow from the Risen assassin before it disappears. She looks relieved when theymeet eyes, but then, she realizes her mistake as her eyes widen.

The brand in her eye is obvious once he takes a closer look. Awayfrom all others, he sees Marth for what she truly is: Lucina, his daughter. Shebreaks down in front of him, hugging him as tight as she could as if she hadn’tseen her father in years. Her uniform, her sword, the lance on her back… oh,what life had she led? What had led her to have both Falchion and Siegmundunder her possession? Chrom smiles as Lucina giggles at the prospect of callinghim Father. She grew up to be a strong girl, that’s for sure.

Father and daughter hear footsteps come from nearby and they bothlook to see Ephraim, Robin, and Lissa approaching, Ephraim leading them.Ephraim walks up to them, mildly suspicious of the girl. Robin and Lissa hangback, uncertain. The aqua green haired man demands to know what’s going on, aswith a situation like this are rumors born and Chrom happily obliges. Lucinaventures to her dad as the man is in disbelief, as are the pair standing behindthem. She shows him the brand in her eye, which Ephraim remarks to be the samein his daughter’s eye. She tells them that the Lucina in the castle isperfectly fine and that she hails from a time distant from now.

In her time, Ylisse was ravaged by the resurrection of the FellDragon, Grima. Whole cities were destroyed, millions perished, and Lucinawatched with her own eyes the fall of her father, of her dad, of all theShepherds she had grown to love. She gestures to her Falchion on her hip, thelast gift from her father and from behind her back, she pulls out Siegmund, thelast gift from her dad. Chrom insists that Lucina truly is their daughter fromall her proof. But, Ephraim wants to know one more thing before he believesher.

He asks her of the origins of her middle name.

He and Chrom had resolved to keep her middle name as somethingbetween themselves, never making it known to the public. All of the Shepherdsknew her middle name but didn’t know where it came from. They both decided thatthey would tell Lucina who she was named after when she grew older.

Lucina smiles and says that she was named after her dad’s twinsister, Eirika.

Lucina finds herself in her dad’s tight embrace and she can’t helpbut sob. She buries her head into his shoulder and clutches him tightly. Hownice it was to hear her dad’s voice again, cooing at her as he stroked herhair. From behind her, Chrom wraps his arms around his family and kisses hisdaughter’s and his husband’s heads. Lucina laughs wetly between them. She’sfinally back with them. She’s finally home.

(After that, the story progresses just as it would, with addedbonuses.

Having never learned how to use a lance, Ephraim takes it uponhimself to show his daughter the ways to wield a lance and eventually, ParallelSiegmund. Thus, she’s able to use both her parents’ weapons when she promotes.

Upon meeting Owain and him freaking out about “SACRED STONES”,there’s a little pull in Ephraim’s mind but that’s all.

The Outrealm Gate is revealed and is put to use. Anna pulls Chromand Ephraim away one day and tells them that the gate might lead them toEphraim’s true home, but she’s not 100% certain. They take the chance away andwith loads of magical power, a small group of Shepherds find themselvesstanding before a rejuvenated Renais. Anna advises them that they only have afew days before they’ll be kicked back to Ylisse, so use their time wisely. AtRenais, the group find out that it’s been several years since the end of a warand prince Ephraim’s disappearance. Because the prince was no longer there, theprincess took his place and became the queen who led Grado and Renais back tostability. The entire group is surprised that Ephraim is a prince of allthings, but all Ephraim wants to see is his sister.

Slowly, the memories begin the flood back, first with familiarfaces. Seth, Forde, Franz, Innes, Tana, L’arachel, friends of old began to comeback to him. In order to hide Ephraim’s identity, Chrom forces the man to weara cloak to not draw any suspicion from anyone else and he asks for an audiencewith the queen. Surprisingly, they were let through to see the Queen of Renaisherself, Ephraim’s twin sister, and technically Chrom’s sister-in-law, Eirika.She is kind and warm hearted to them even though they were strangers. She askswhat their business was with her and, at the sound of his sister’s voice,Ephraim breaks down into tears.

Chrom hastily reaches out for the man and pulls him in as Lucinaworriedly pitters around her dad. Eirika looks worried as well, descending fromher throne towards the crying man in the cloak. Ephraim pushes himself awayfrom his husband, reaches up, and pulls down his hood.

Eirika gasps before she launches herself at her long lost brother,crying. They grasp at each other, clutching the other as tight as they could astears pour from their eyes. They’re babbling nonsense to each other, butthey’re both smiling. Chrom looks around to see the other guards in completeshock. One in particular, a red haired man, approaches them with uncertainty.Ephraim and Eirika separates and Ephraim greets his old friend with a smile.Needless to say, even the perceived cold man was driven to tears at the sightof an old friend.

The days pass slowly as Ephraim reacquaints himself with those ofhis older life. He tells them he’s a married man now and introduces Chrom. Theamount of death threats Chrom gets is absurd. Ephraim then tells them that healso has a daughter and introduces Lucina. The girl ends up getting coddled byher aunt the entire time she’s there.

Eventually, the days they can stay are used up. Anna says that theycan come by again, but only after every six months. They all agree and theYlisseans are ready to leave for home, but Eirika looks reluctant to letEphraim go. She just got her brother back and the next time she was going tosee him was going to be six months from now. Call her selfish, but she missedher brother for a number of years. Thus, she and Chrom make a deal: after theirwar against Grima, Ephraim would return to Renais for as long as he wants to.He could stay there for six months or indefinitely; it was his choice. Withthat, the Shepherds all return home to Ylisse with a battle to be won.)

Well, that’s all I guess! THIS WAS ABSURDLY FUN TO WRITE HA HA HA.

[kailenawolf]

It was too long to put in an ask but maybe it will make your day a little better? @cassandrapentayaaaaas

The last of Dennets stock had finally been shipped into Haven, the strain on the makeshift stables was showing but damn did they have a fine herd to show for it. Eris had made little headway with her chosen mount but she wasn't giving up, he just needed a little more time. Grabbing two apples in each hand from the kitchens, Eris scuttled away from the cook waving a metal soup ladle at her as she chased the elf out of her domain. Tucking three into her pocket Eris bit into the sweet fruit relishing the flavor, she missed the treat during the winter months and was beyond grateful that Josephine had secured a trade route that got the fresh produce to the town. Meandering down the paths leading towards the stalls and small arena Eris let her eyes wander, Solas and Dorian nodded to her as she passed Adans medical shack. According to her sister Solas had already picked his mount and even named the mare, a golden colored beauty Eris recalled. The elf doubted Dorian had even attempted to go near the stable, his fussy protests about the smell and how they couldn't compare to the Tevinter bloodlines was already ringing in her ears. Rolling her eyes Eris knew there was a flashy enough horse in that herd to attract the mages attention if he would just go SEE them. Waving cheekily at Varric by the fire by the stairs she wondered what kind of mount would be suitable for him, he was compact and sturdy and much stronger than he let on. Eris had seen those impressive arms when she had to stitch a nasty wound closed when they had run out of potions, and damn was he built, such a pity he wasn't interested.

The sounds of the recruits fighting each other and Cullen barking orders quickly drew her attention and Eris paused watching them run through the drills. Cassandra wasn't far off sparing with the dummies, the dulled practice sword still managed to chip off wood splinters with the force of her swings. Cocking her head an idea began to form in Eris' mind, swinging her gaze left Eris scanned the visible stalls and grinned. "I don't have to know you very well to know that look spells trouble." Bull quipped as she jogged up.

If she remembered right Bull had chosen a horse as well, a hulking beast of a gelding, though Dennet swore he was in fact a warmount the big lug had the temperament of plow horse and seemed quite content to eat and nap the day away. "You wouldn't be wrong, I usually am up to no good."

"Got plans huh? Anything interesting?" The qunari warrior smirked back as he fell in step with her towards the pens.

"Maybe, I'm about to pick out some mounts for someone."

"Thought we were picking our own?" Bull was curious now, a slight tilt of his head telling he was a touch confused at what she was doing.

"Oh you are, but this one is... special."

"It's for Varric isn't it?"

Eris chuckled not surprised he guessed somewhat correctly. "Close, I will be selecting some for him to choose from later but this is for someone else."

She really had his attention now. "Hmm, alright don't tell me I want to try to guess who it is from your choices."

"You're on."

Bull leaned against the fence of the enclosure as she perused the horses in their stalls, her first pick was a bright chestnut. He was solidly built and well trained with wide set eyes that spoke of intelligence, but he just didn't feel right. When she moved with him it felt like the beast was just going through the motions, there was no spark or connection with him. Frowning Eris finished working him quickly and let him be taken back. She tried again with a painted buckskin, she was much more lively and full of spunk with her high stepping strides, and while the pretty mare responded well to commands there was a tiny trace of timidity when Eris asked her to do something a bit more daring. "Not quite."

Bringing the mare back in she sent a look to Bull who was watching everything unfold in earnest, his eye missing no details as the elf weeded through the herd. Eris was slightly frustrated and a crease was beginning to etch deeper into her brow at the lack of results after another two horses, but a deep snort and a stomped hoof drew her attention to a stallion being teased by a lovely shaded mare over the stall wall. The stallion in question did not seem to enjoy the mare lipping at his ear and nipped at her since the limited stall space couldn't get him completely out of her reach. Feeling sorry for the handsome bugger she decided she might as well bring him out, the stallion gratefully whickered to her and quickly trotted out of the stall his pale coat glinting in the sunlight. The stallion was a snowy white, nearly blending into the drifts surrounding the corral if not for the glowing attention Dennet gave to grooming his charges. He was a stunning example of his breed, a blend of Antivan grace with Nevarran strength. The white charger had a supremely smooth gait without being overly flashy like he was in a parade, it was effortless and the stallion listened to her cues with an ear always turned to her. He challenged her for control a few times by taking hold of the bit, but with firm hands on the reins and quick reprimands he accepted her leadership. Tilting her head Eris felt a smile start to grow on her face at the happy accident that drew her to him, bringing him around she tapped him into a charge at where Bull was standing. Understanding what she was asking the pale animal threw his weight forward the first few paces with a snort before finding a steady stride, Bull didn't flinch but neither did Eris or the stallion. He skidded at the last second rearing up with a scream, his sharp hooves renting the air above Bulls head, when he dropped to the ground with a loud bluster Eris knew she had found the mount.

"Perfection."

"His is impressive and a good match for her."

Eris raised a brow. "Figure it out did you?"

Bull gave her a saucy grin and a one shouldered shrug. "Cassandra will love him."

"You're gonna have to teach me how you do that. But would you go get her for me? I want to see if he connects to her."

"Sure, and I can't divulge Ben-Hassrath secrets that would defeat the purpose of you keeping me around aside from my affinity for hitting things and good looks."

Bursting out with a laugh Eris watched him chuckle with her and walk off to collect the Seeker. Trotting him around the ring as they waited the stallion tossed his head with restless energy that the mock charge had left him with. "Don't you worry, someone is gonna give you a run for your money. Let's hope you like her."

"You wanted to see me?" Cass' voice rang out at the fenceline and Eris grinned from ear to ear.

"I did, what do you think of him?"

Cassandra didn't question why she was summoned verbally, a slight twitch of her mouth was all she got before the Seeker took in the stallion. "He is a fine specimen, and much preferable to that... other one. I'm glad you are choosing a more suitable creature." Her gaze lingered over the animal, his dark eyes and elegant ears turned to her in turn.

"Oh this boy isn't for me, he is yours."

That got Eris a reaction, Cass jolted like she'd been shocked by Solas' staff, taking an unconscious step back. "Mine?"

"If you connect with him that is, and... if you like him." The stallion shifted as his riders emotions went from confident to more trepidatious. "Come meet him."

Cassandra hesitated but after a steadying breath slowly moved through the poles to meet the charger Eris had chosen. Dropping to the ground Eris lead the male closer, his grey velveteen nose reaching out to sniff at the armour clad warrior. Eris stroked his neck encouragingly as a back hoof stomped a little, she bid the Seeker to remove her gloves to get more of her scent and learn her touch. He again pushed some boundaries like a typical stallion but before Eris could correct him Cassandra did with a sharp word and a glare. He exhaled harshly into her face for it but did as she bade, when his muzzle stretched to get a whiff at her neck Cass let out an uncharacteristic giggle at the whiskers tickling her skin. Slipping her the last apples Eris let the two get acquainted further without distraction, though she stayed close to the fenceline watching. “Introduction went well I see.” Bull commented appearing as if from nowhere.

“Mhh I only wish it were that easy with some of the others.”

“Oh you have your work cut out for you with that one.” Bull grunted using his horns to point at the seemingly scowling silver black stallion in his own stall.

The animal had his ears twitching back and forth nostrils flaring with each hard heavy breath, but it was the subtle head bobbing that made Eris frown as she realized what he was going to do. He screeched at the top of his lungs a challenge that many of the other horses stallion and mare alike answered. Fearing that the white would get to spooked and ruin whatever ground he and Cassandra had made Eris was about to jump back in to wrangle the warhorse before either of them got hurt. Bull stayed her with a firm hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”

She was about to protest when she heard the white scream back, ears flat against his skull and tail lashing his sides in agitation. Cassandra held tight to his reins and kept him in place, the charger angrily pawed the ground with his hoof, shifting his body around Eris watched in rapt fascination as the charger laid claim to Cassandra. It was done, the stallion had chosen. She hadn’t expected it so suddenly and given male behavior he may have only done it because the black had challenged him but the end result was the same. Cass now had a mount straight out of the fairytales she had read as a child, wanting to be the knight on the white valiant steed instead of the wilting princess. The two would be a fine pair, now if only her own stallion would stop being such an asshole and let her get near him to prove they could be partners too.