#Koto writes FE Fates

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Mature

Fandoms: Fire Emblem IF / Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: M Corrin / Felicia

Additional Tags: Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Self-Doubt, Childhood Friends, Parenthood, Post-War, Invisible Kingdom | Revelation Route, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Pregnancy, Menstruation Mention

Word Count: 3,590 words

Summary: There is nothing Corrin has wanted more than to be a father, but as he and his wife begin to try for their first child after the war, he finds that she is harbouring a few more anxieties about parenthood than she was ready to admit. Hearing her concerns, he realizes that it's up to him to make her see what an amazing mom she's going to be.

[Read the Felicia/Corrin one-shot on AO3.]

When they were little, Corrin and Felicia used to play house.

It was one of their absolute favourite games. Shedding status and decorum, they would take on the roles of a simple husband and wife. Proud and loving, they pretended to be a couple who lived in the countryside, and worked hard for every piece of gold they had. They may not have been rolling in riches and jewels, but they were happy and healthy, and they had their love to keep them warm. In some versions of their game, they even had a daughter or a dog (depending on if Flora or Lilith wanted to play with them at the time). Their little lives were absolutely perfect, and they would spend hours just playing together, imagining a sweet, domestic life for themselves.

And in the end, Corrin supposes that they did get it, but… it’s certainly turned out a little differently than they planned.

He’s not entirely sure Felicia ever anticipated becoming the queen of a kingdom, much less one that had just recently been freed from an insane god.

Then again, Felicia never thought she would marry him. In fact, he’s pretty sure he recalls several remarks about how she would probably never get married at all. “I’m far too clumsy to make a good wife,” she would sigh, lamenting her restriction to enjoying romance through novels, unaware that Corrin was completely smitten with her. After all, those little games of house didn’t come out of nowhere. Even growing into a young adult, he couldn’t ignore the growing desire to have her as his own, so while she never anticipated her future, he spent years fantasizing about the joy of it all. The flustered giggles that came with the first handholding in courtship, the months spent tasting cakes and choosing fabrics for their grand marriage, the cool summer evenings spent flirting and fawning over each other until they somehow wound up in bed, the late nights and early mornings they would spend with their chubby little baby… Life sure had taken a turn for his lovably awkward wife, but for him, it was almost exactly where he wanted to be. Of course, being king did make several aspects of life pretty different – and unfortunately, some of them did tamper with his vision. He still has what he desperately wanted with her, but… things aren’t always so straightforward and sweet. Some aspects of life are just a bit more than he initially bargained for – and in this case, that includes having children.

Their fellow officials have been on their backs about having a baby for months now. He always kind of thought that Xander and Ryoma were exaggerating when they said that babies are all anyone talks about once you get to a certain age – no. Much to his frustration, his brothers were unfortunately quite correct. He has never seen so many people so fascinated with the idea of two other people having sex. It seems as if everyone has been pestering him to just get Felicia pregnant already. It’s certainly not as if he hasn’t been trying, either, it’s just a lot of pressure. Not just for him, either, but for both of them. There is more to having a baby than just the actual act of getting pregnant with one. If there’s one thing he knows about his wife, it’s that motherhood worries are probably the kind of thing that’s going to keep her up at night… which only makes it worse that today is a good day in her monthly schedule.

Knowing that has made the day a blur for them both. Her more so than him, but it is hard to focus on whatever arbitrary problem the courtiers are having when you’re busy worrying about your wife. Towards the end of the day, he feels as if he has done nothing but repeatedly glance at Felicia, searching her face from moment to moment just to see the slightest twitch. He’s sure that by now some of the others have noticed that neither the king nor the queen is focused on the task at hand, but nobody seems to mind all that much. There’s probably some rumour floating around that their lack of focus is exhaustion from night after night of dragon’s bliss… He really hopes that one never leaves the castle.

Still, in a way there is an exhaustion that overtakes them, it’s just the kind that comes from micromanaging themselves all day. It is only once they settle into the beginning of a nice, quiet dinner alone that either of them can even begin to feel peace. Rather than dining out in the open, the couple requested that they have some time alone in a private room. After all, if all of their time is given to their people, surely they should be allowed just a little bit alone as husband and wife. Luckily, the staff agreed that such a prospect was reasonable, likely hoping that their intimate night alone would breed good fortune for their country’s potential heir. Thankfully, this meant that by the time dinner rolled around, Corrin was finally able to relax his shoulders a little.

Some of that admittedly came from the fact that tonight’s dinner dish was as good as it was. With the gifts of land from both Xander and Ryoma, Nohrian and Hoshidan culture quickly became blended with what remained of the Vallites. This meant that the cuisine had, in part, evolved to become something fresh, new, and undeniably delicious. Tonight’s dinner is proof of that: black sesame tan tan men, paired with three steamed pork buns each for added protein. The whole meal is steaming hot and smells both nutty and meaty, practically making both of their mouths water at the smell. For the first few minutes of the meal, the two of them are more focus on their bowls than they are each other, taking in happy, greedy bites. After a long day of work that left them starving, the food is so hypnotizing that when Felicia speaks, it takes Corrin a few extra seconds to pull away.

“So… today’s another good day, huh?”

He can’t help but notice how her voice shakes a little bit when she says it, with that same little waiver that tinges her speech when she’s trying to be cool about something. A small smile graces her lips, but it doesn’t match the look in her eyes.

“It should be, if we have your schedule right.”

There had been an incident with that, in the past. Just as Felicia could forget which direction was north and which was south, she often forgot exactly when her period had started each time that it happened. This meant that once or twice they were missing the target by more than just a little bit. Oh, how annoyed some of the healers overseeing them had been on that day! Still, he couldn’t blame her for that – from what he knew, menstruation was a period of severe discomfort for her, perhaps even more so than for the average woman, so it must have felt like it went on for ages. He’s sure that she’s looking forward to missing it when she’s pregnant.

“So after dinner’s over, do you wanna give some time for our food to settle and then, um…?” It’s hard not to smile at the way Felicia’s face turns strawberry-red, and how she almost seems to cringe at having to say the word. “Y’know.”

With that reaction, you’d have thought it was her first time asking for a night of sexual intimacy. Corrin chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re not nearly this bashful in the bedroom, Felicia.”

His wife lets out a loud squeak and grabs her ponytail, hiding her embarrassment in her silky pink hair. “D-Don’t say stuff like that so casually! What if someone hears you?”

Reaching across the table, Corrin places a comforting hand on Felicia’s. “Hey, it’s a private dinner, you have nothing to worry about,” he assures her, patting her hand, “Besides, I’m only teasing. It’s just so cute how you still seem to get so bashful over it. It’s not like it’s our first time.”

Slowly but surely, Felicia releases her hair to reveal her still-pink face, her lips pursed into an adorable pout. “I know, I know… It’s just really intimate, that’s all. I’m not used to talking about it like it’s no big deal.”

Corrin sighs, still trying to keep that smile on his face. He leans back in his chair, hoping to appear nonchalant. Truth be told, he’s as shy about some of this stuff as she is, but he does like knowing that thinking of him in such a way stirs passion in her. If only they could be harnessing that passion in full, instead of fretting and fussing over all the minor details.

“I know what you mean. With all this fuss around baby-making, the whole thing is starting to feel a little procedural. It’s not usually a subject we can talk about so openly like this, but throw the kingdom’s heir into the mix, and now suddenly everyone’s invested.”

Felicia nods, biting her lip. “It’s weird… I can’t say that I like it, but I guess everyone’s just r-really excited about us having a baby, yeah? They want a little crown prince or princess to dote on.”

“I guess that’s a more positive way of looking at it.”

He pauses, turning the noodles around with his fork. It’s weird to talk about this with her. Not the actual baby making part, as they’ve discussed the logistics, but the social perspective. This whole time he’s had to wonder if she feels as uncomfortable as he suspects, watching her every moment, but he’s had no opportunity to ask. Part of him wants to just blurt out everything to her in some sort of word vomit, but he doubts that would be helpful. Spontaneously subjecting your partner to chamberpot treatment is a bit unfair. So, when he sees the opportunity, he tries to make it a bit more graceful.

“It just feels like a lot of pressure sometimes, though, doesn’t it?”

She nods once more, this time much more enthusiastically. “Gods, it is so much pressure! Everyone keeps telling me that I need to get pregnant, that we only have so long to have kids, but nobody really bothered to ask me if I was ready. I haven’t been offered parenting tips or, or anything! Just a lot of questions about when it’s going to happen. They’re coming from everybody – even Father asked the last time he wrote to me!”

Corrin tries not to cringe at that last part. He knows that Kilma is probably just being a doting father, given his particular affection for Felicia, but he knows his expectations have always exerted some pressure on both of the twins. It’s probably even worse for her now, knowing that somewhere, Flora is on the other end of this – “Why can’t you settle down like your sister, Flora? Find a nice husband and start having children. We need the tribe to grow strong, and they will do that with a strong family guiding them!”

Able to do nothing else, he laughs awkwardly instead. “I don’t know why everyone’s so fussed up about it. It’s not like we don’t want to have kids, right?”

“Right!” Felicia throws her arms in the air dramatically, nearly knocking over her dinner. For once, however, her reflexes kick in and she manages to catch the bowl before it spills. “We used to play pretend family all the time! It’s not like we don’t want them, it’s just… parenting is kind of scary.”

Oh.

He was right. That is what it’s about for her. His heart aches, and his expression softens at the sound of those words. He always suspected that motherhood worried her, yet it feels different to hear the words from her mouth. Different than he thought it would feel, anyway. He has no control over it, but he wishes she wouldn’t be afraid. She’s one of the kindest, most nurturing people that he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“What about it scares you?”

Felicia shifts awkwardly in her seat, her gaze darting down to stare at her food. “It’s just… I’m not sure I’m worthy to be the mother of a crown prince or princess. Most days I don’t even feel like I’m worthy of being queen.”

“Felicia, you-”

“You know it’s true! I’m still the same scatterbrained klutz I was back in the Northern Fortress. I can’t do anything by myself without completely messing it up. What if I messed up while taking care of our baby?”

A look of serious alarm crosses Felicia’s face, and tears begin to well up in her eyes. One look at her face in that state, and Corrin’s stomach drops.

“What if I slip while holding them? What if I put too much comfy stuff in their crib and they suffocate? What if I oversleep and leave them hungry? You know how important the breastfeeding tradition is in my tribe! I’d never forgive myself if I forgot something so important!”

With her tendency to spiral with hard thoughts, it is no surprise to Corrin that she is now holding her head and letting out shaky breaths. He can hear and see her trying desperately not to cry. Gods, this must have been weighing on her for longer than he knew. He could kick himself for not having asked sooner. No matter. He cannot waste another moment sitting idly by. He rises from the table and rushes to her side, kneeling to hold her hand once more. As he gets closer, he can hear her whimpering. Her bottom lip quivers as she turns to down at him, and he cannot help but frown as he sees the tears begin to drip down her cheeks.

“Felicia, you’re being far too hard on yourself. Any child we have would be lucky to have you as a mother. You may be clumsy and forgetful sometimes, sure, but when push comes to shove, you are one of the most reliable and compassionate people I know.”

Felicia only lowers her head further, letting out a quiet sob.

“Washing dishes and doing laundry is one thing, but I’ve never seen one important job that you did not take seriously. When you truly put your mind to something, you come out the other side okay. Silas told me about those exercises that you guys did together, and he said you did great.”

“They didn’t even work…” Felicia moans pitifully, swiping at her eyes.

“They took some particular thinking,” he corrects, placing a hand on her hand, “And if that thinking happens to be too particular, we can work on it. Every parent does some reading and practicing before they get into it. Nobody starts out knowing everything.”

She shakes her head, still desperately hiding her eyes behind her bangs. Moments ago, their dinner was welcome respite from their pressures, yet now he can see how deeply they are weighing on her. How long as she spent today thinking about them, he wonders? For her sake, he pushes a smile.

“I don’t remember you being inattentive at all when we used to play house together,” he adds, “In fact, you were a very good mother. You remembered everything about our daughter.”

“That’s because our daughter was Flora.”

“But you remember everything about Flora. And you were always at her side when you thought she needed you, regardless of whether she told you she needed the help. Remember that time she got sick with the flu, but kept trying to work like she was fine? You were all over her. Even when we finally managed to get her in bed, you were ready to feed her, bring her medicine, and even cool her down with your powers. You were a diligent caretaker, even if you sometimes messed up along the way.”

“I still messed up.”

Corrin quirks a brow. “Have you ever thought to ask Flora if she minded you did? She was probably touched that you cared so much. I know I was, when you helped me all those years ago. You put yourself out of commission, but you did it because you cared about me.”

It is this comment that, finally, prompts Felicia to lift her head. Tears continue to wet her lashes, but they do not fall. It is almost like they are waiting, ready to be convinced that what Corrin is saying is truth. As for the rest of her eyes, the sparkling pools of azure he loves so dearly – they are sharp, shocked into stopping – just like the rest of her. Her body is incredibly still now.

“If that kind of compassion and self-sacrifice doesn’t make you capable of being a great mom, I don’t know what does.”

“But what if they’re embarrassed of me?” She whispers, biting her lip. “What if they think I cry or talk too much?”

“Felicia, this is our kid we’re talking about.” Corrin half-laughs. “Do you really think they won’t cry and talk a lot too? We’re very emotional people. They’ll have to learn it from somewhere!”

By the grace of the gods, Felicia finally lets out a tiny giggle and wipes her nose on the back of her free hand. The remaining tears begin to be blinked away. “I guess that’s true.”

“Exactly. I know you have your reasons to be worried, and you’re allowed to be, but I don’t want you to be too hard on yourself, either. I have full confidence that you’re going to be a great mom. Anything that might come up is just something we can work on. The gods know that I have things that I should be working on, too.”

To this, Felicia quirks a brow. That soft grin of hers is still there, but she seems to lean towards him a little bit, as if interested. She sniffles. “You have stuff you want to work on?”

“You don’t think I should?”

“Well, i-it never hurts to practice anything – it’s what Gunter always told us, but you’re already so kind and loving, I guess I just have a hard time thinking about what you should improve on,” she laughs softly, “For what it’s worth, you were a great dad when we were kids, too.”

Corrin pokes his tongue out from between his lips. “I thought that didn’t count because our daughter was Flora?”

She swats at him playfully, careful to be too far away to even make an impact. He’s glad to see that she has learned from the last one or two times where she did accidentally swat him. “Only for me. You didn’t share a womb with her for nine months,” she sniffles, her tone then turning more serious, “Really though, Corrin, is there something you’re worried about too?”

He shrugs. “It’s just as you said, Felicia. Parenting is scary. I worry about being too much or not enough, or both at the same time. I know that the family situation that I was raised in is unique, so I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to affect the way that I interact with our child, but…”

“But?”

“But when I think about having you at my side, I know I can do it. We may not have had the easiest or the most straightforward lives, but these days, things are different. We have a beautiful kingdom, lots of loyal subjects, a big and loving family, and best of all, a continent at peace. Even if it seems scary, I know that everything will be okay. We’ll take care of each other and our baby all the same.”

Felicia wipes at her eyes once more. “I think that’s a really nice way of looking at it.”

“I’m glad you think so. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re doing this alone.”

“When I have you with me?” She shakes her head. “Never.”

Corrin lets out a sigh of relief as he rises from the ground, leaning over instead to embrace his wife. She receives him readily, wrapping him in her arms and holding him tight. She’s been hugging him since their youth, but every time he finds himself overwhelmed by her scent. Mint and clean bedsheets, he remembers readily. They are the two smells that have always reminded him of home. Just being close to her is enough to put a smile on his face as he draws back from their hug, and as he catches her eye as he’s moving, a glint of mischief stops him in his tracks.

“You know, um… today is still a good day for me,” Felicia says quietly, her cheeks dusted rouge, “Any chance I could thank you for this later?”

Corrin swallows hard, blood rushing to his face. Oh. He was not expecting to get lucky after that conversation, but like hell is he complaining that he’s going to. Heat pools in his stomach. They’re… probably going to be needing to do some of that parenting practice sooner rather than later, if that’s the case. Nevertheless, the words are barely out of Felicia’s mouth when he finds himself nodding enthusiastically.

“S-Sure,” he sputters out like a doofus, “If only you’ll allow me the same.”

Planting one last kiss on his cheek, she murmurs, “It’s a deal.”

[fayesdiary]

I don’t know if you still want asks for the Fire Emblem Series Ask Game (my apologies if you don’t), but 24, 27, and/or 28 all sound cool, if you’d be up to them :)

Hey Koto! Don't worry, you're still on time! Not like this ask games have a proper expiration date, anyway...

24) An FE title you wish would be remade?

Geneaology, hands down.

It's one of the most unique games in the series and has one of the best stories and worlds, but the best parts of it are bogged down by the game being clunky and unintuitive as hell.

But if it got the Echoes treatment? I think it could even have the potential to dethrone it for me.

27) Any fanfics/fan content you'd recommend? (You can plug your own stuff it's fine)

Most of the stuff I'd recommend is about Echoes so I'm not gonna mention it, so I'm gonna plug @iturbide once again!

They make some great Awakening and Fòdlan writings and discussions and fun fact, they were a major inspiration for this blog!

28) Because this fandom doesn't see enough discourse [citation needed], post a spicy hot take here🔥🔥

...I like the Fates localized names more.

While I grow more frustrated with Fates' localization the more I learn about it (my god the game deserved so much better than being butchered like this), I do think the localized names sound better and fit the characters more.

But maybe it's just that it's the names I'm used to, I dunno.

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Mature

Fandoms: Fire Emblem IF/Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: M Corrin | Kamui / Flora

Additional Tags: Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Self-Esteem Issues, Childhood Friends, Invisible Kingdom | Revelation Route, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied Referenced Pregnancy

Word Count: 3,944 words

Summary: There is nothing Corrin has wanted more than to be a father, but as he and his wife begin to try for their first child after the war, he finds that she is harbouring a few more anxieties about parenthood than she was ready to admit. Hearing her concerns, he realizes that it's up to him to make her see what an amazing mom she's going to be.

[Read the Flora/Corrin one-shot on AO3.]

If there is one thing that Corrin has bragging rights to in this world, it’s being able to cuddle with his wife in the summer. While everyone else he knows spends the late hours of the night pushed away from their partner, too determined to avoid the stickiness of the heat, Corrin can enjoy every moment curled up in bed with Flora. There is no absence of cuddles, even in weather that has brought lots of sun and humidity to their beautiful home in Valla… Which makes it all the more disappointing when he wakes up one fine August morning to an empty bed.

He supposes he can’t blame Flora for wanting to get up and at it. Their usual duties as King and Queen made them a bit more prone to early waking, lest they miss out on something important. Still, considering that there had been a bit of an impromptu, er… romp between the two of them last night, it would have been nice to snuggle up together for the morning. Romantic, intimate even. But, then again, Flora always was very pristine. She probably enjoyed spooning all night, but felt she needed her bath come daylight. He could respect that. She’d been trying to take extra good care of herself as of late, considering that last night’s activities were only one session of many. The two of them had recently decided that it was finally time to grow their family, and she wanted to be in her best shape to carry their child.

The thought of expanding their family still sends warmth through Corrin’s chest when he thinks about it. He used to think that he would never even get to kiss Flora, let alone marry and have a child with her! And yet here he is, laying in their bed after a night of passionate lovemaking, thinking about just how perfect their future is going to be. Fate is a funny thing sometimes. One can never know what the gods have in their designs, but he's glad that no matter what happens, he and Flora are meant to be together. Now he can only hope that the gods will choose to bless them with the sound of little feet on the castle floors as well.

“Are you still sleeping in here, Corrin?” A familiar voice – Flora’s voice – coos as she peeks her head through the door, her blue hair still damp from her recent bath. “I thought surely you’d be rising by now.”

“’m up,” Corrin slurs unconvincingly, propping himself up on his elbows as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. Even through his blurry vision, he can see Flora smiling at him and shaking her head. She always did like to tease him about being too much of a ‘slugabed,’ as she called it. To be honest, he’s still not entirely sure what it means.

If she truly minds that he is still in bed, though, she doesn’t show it. She merely slides confidently into the room, adorned in only a pale pink nightgown. She’s taken to wearing it when she moves back and forth between the baths and their room. It would be indecent by some standards, shorter than her old uniform’s skirt and featuring straps instead of sleeves, exposing much of her beautiful porcelain skin, but it’s better than just a towel. Besides, Corrin doesn’t really mind the sight. If Flora is not concerned with other people thinking of her strangely for wearing it, then neither is he. He… quite likes getting to drink in the sight of her form when she wears it, anyway.

“I should hope you are,” she snickers, “As cute as you are when you’re tired, you might want to get used to waking up with a start if you want to have a baby around. Contrary to the popular saying, they aren’t exactly known to be great sleepers.”

“I know, I know… but that’s why I’ll have you.”

Flora smiles softly at this, but doesn’t say much more. In fact, she doesn’t even seem to linger on him like she normally would. She simply ventures further into the room, preparing to put her night clothes aside for washing and pick a gown for the day.

It’s hard not to sigh at her dismissal. Even though she knows how deeply he loves her, she always shies away from his kind words — perhaps even more so now that they’re trying for a baby. She’s told him before of how undeserving she feels of the life they have. Her denial of discussion now is an avoidance tactic. She may look like she’s just looking at gowns, deciding that she wants to wear white more than she does blue, but he knows better than to think that she’s not trying to dodge him. He wishes she wouldn’t be so hard on herself. Nonetheless, he knows the best thing he can do right now is try not to take too much offence. Flora, like all others, will heal with time and a bit of love. Such are the best remedies for a poisoned mind.

“I think you’ll be a really good mother, Flora,” he says in a tone that is as soft and sweet as he can possibly muster – but it makes his wife’s shoulders tense a bit anyway, “One of the best a person could have.”

She hums in response, neglecting to provide a real answer. Instead, she starts to leaf through the dresses in her closet. Does she really think she’ll be getting away from this conversation so easily?

“Flora, you know you’re going to be great, right?”

Once again, she doesn’t answer.

“Flora-”

This last utterance of her name is, for whatever reason, the crack that breaks the egg. Within a matter of seconds she is spinning around, a deep frown etching itself into her expression. “Corrin,” she says his name all too sharply for his liking, “Can you please give it a rest?”

I could, he longs to say, But that wouldn’t help me comfort my wife, now would it?

Ah, better not to let that out. It’s unlikely those words would be met with anything but displeasure.

“I don’t mean to pry,” he tells her instead, voice careful, “But if there’s something you’re worried about, I don’t want you to have to go through it alone, either. I know you don’t always have the easiest time opening up to people, but I’m your husband. It’s natural for me to worry, isn’t it?”

Flora looks down, the shame of her snap searing into her face. He can see a blush rising in her cheeks and she bites her lip, quietly considering his words. As much as she hates it, he knows that she needs a bit of prying when she is feeling poorly. Growing up with a sensitive sister like Felicia, it was often Flora’s responsibility to be the brave and composed one, so bottling up her own hard feelings comes naturally to her. It took some time for her to improve. While Corrin is proud of the progress she’s made so far, he knows that sometimes she’s going to need a bit more help. This seems to be one of those times. That’s fine – she’s more than worth it to him.

“I…” She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s complicated.”

Corrin swallows before asking, “Are you having second thoughts about growing our family?”

The mere thought makes a pit of guilt sprout in his stomach. Flora not wanting a family, it would be something he could try to live with. It might make the Vallite line of succession a bit harder, what with him having to pick one of his nieces or nephews from either side of the family – maybe even Azura’s kids, were she willing – but it would be doable. However, considering the events of last night, it would be a bit hard to go back on having a baby now. Granted, there is no guarantee that Flora will get pregnant, but there is also no guarantee that she won’t. What would they do if she ended up pregnant, but didn’t want a baby after all? Best case scenario, she would learn to love being a mom; worst case, it would totally destroy her sense of self and their relationship. Even if he wants to be a father more than anything in this world, he could never do that to her. He loves her too much to put her through that pain, so for her sake, he can’t help but pray for her to be saying something else. Surely she must be, right? She wouldn’t tease him about wanting a baby if she was uncomfortable with the idea?

He thanks the gods that she shakes her head as soon the words leave his mouth.

“It’s not the baby I’m worried about… Or maybe it is, but probably not the way you’re thinking.”

Corrin wiggles over and pats the spot next to him on the bed without another word. A whisper of a smile graces Flora’s face before she makes her way over, sitting down next to him with the elegance of a queen. It was only a few hours ago that she was this close to him, yet he finds himself taken with her presence nonetheless. He drinks in her scent, the smell of jasmine and gardenia, and admires how even with her shoulder-blade length hair hanging wet and limp from her bath, she still manages to look impossibly beautiful. He only wishes that her expression wasn’t still tinged with sadness. Her face has always looked best with a smile or a laugh.

“I guess I’ve just been worried about being a mother,” she begins to explain, slowly and carefully, as if each word needs its own moment of emphasis, “I don’t know if I have what it takes to do a good job.”

The idea of Flora being a bad mother is almost laughable to Corrin. He knows better than to actually laugh at it, of course, yet he wonders how she could have decided that that would be the case. The husband in him wants to eagerly deny that there is any way that she could be, but the friend in him knows that he hasn’t really stopped to consider her point of view. Of course he thinks she’ll be a good mom — she’s like a goddess of snowy winter sunshine to him – but she doesn’t see herself like that, and he needs to remember that.

So, instead of getting too far ahead of himself and blurting out a myriad of platitudes, he decides to just… ask. “What makes you think you’d be a bad mother?”

Flora’s head tilts downwards once again, and a few strands of her hair fall limp in front of her face as she does, as if to emphasize how desperately she wants to avoid his eyes. Corrin finds himself tucking it back behind her ear without thinking. He knows it cannot be easy for Flora to bear her soul to him like this. Gently tending to her needs is the best thing he can do right now.

“I’m not…” She begins, heaving a heavy sigh before she’s even a quarter of the way through the sentence. “I honestly don’t know if I’m all that maternal. I can do a good job caring for someone, sure, but I’m not motherly, and I’m not sure that I know how to be.”

Corrin nods thoughtfully.

“Mother died when Felicia and I were six, so it’s not like I have much to remember… And even if we had Grandmother and Auntie Cecilie, we were taken away far too early on to remember a maternal hand… I’ve never known a mother’s love that I can remember.”

And you’re scared that you can’t share that with someone else, Corrin has to stop himself from blurting out.

“Even for fathers, ours always liked Felicia better, and Gunter…”

A dark look crosses Flora’s face, and she squeezes her eyes shut. Corrin cannot help but echo the action. Gunter’s betrayal weighed heavily on much of the army, but none were more deeply affected than the Fortress Foursome. He and Flora had spent many a night discussing his betrayal, and how even if Corrin could forgive him for it, Flora would not. The memory of that now prompts him to place a comforting hand on hers, silently urging her forward. Dwelling on the pain will do them no good, especially when even despite their love, the couple is not inclined to agree.

“I just feel that I don’t know what it means to be a parent.” She lifts her head to look at him, her pewter eyes gleaming with sadness. Gods, he prays she won’t cry. “Sometimes I don’t even feel like I know what it’s like to be a person. We spent so long at the Fortress during the formative years of our lives, and then suddenly we were out in the world where everything was new.”

“And now we’re here,” Corrin adds, “King and Queen of Valla.”

Flora sighs. “Right…”

A small silence permeates the air between them, as if neither is sure of exactly what to say. Her eyes are still troubled, laced with doubt, but he knows that there has to be something he can do or say to steer her in a different direction. He squeezes her hand softly in comfort. Unfortunately, she gives no reaction.

“But you know, Flora, you’ve been a great queen so far. I mean, you’re twice as versed in any of this as I am, and you’ve already saved me from making potentially troublesome decisions at least three times.” He smiles. “Not to mention that based on the intel Kaze is bringing through the grapevine, you have a lot of admirers among the new Vallites. Just the other day a crowd of young women was telling him how much they envy your grace.”

The crease between her eyebrows only deepens, and her gaze lifts to look out the window, as if she longs to be somewhere other than here. “Grace and good leadership skills aren’t going to make me a good mother. My own upbringing has made me much too bitter, and I don’t think it’s easy to solve with the acknowledgement that I am a decent person from time to time.”

“An amazing person all the time,” Corrin scolds, poking her arm in a soft-disapproval, “Remember what I said about talking about yourself like that?”

She sighs once more, like this whole conversation is just painfully exasperating. He can’t blame her for not wanting to talk about this, but surely she must know that it won't get any better if they don’t?

“It reaffirms your negative thoughts, and that’s not healthy.” She repeats in a flat tone, as if the words have been rehearsed to her a dozen times. In retrospect, they probably have. Corrin is not ashamed to say so.

“Exactly.”

Nonetheless, Flora doesn’t seem cheered. Though her eyes are back on him now, her shoulders are still slumped in defeat, and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Everything about her seems all too still, including her lacking smile. “The fact that you even have to tell me that… I fear you’re still proving my point, Corrin.”

Corrin’s brows knit together before he can even think to control his expression. “You’re not going to be a bad mother just because you still have growing to do. Everyone still has growing to do. You do it your whole life.”

Flora says nothing. There’s a slight twitch of her lips, but nothing else, and he knows that that has to be a sign that there is hope for her yet. She’s just not willing to give in right now. Luckily for her, he’s not the type to give up.

“Being someone who is always improving and growing, it’s important. Who knows, maybe it will even give our child a proper role model to look up to.” He pushes a smile once more. “Besides, it’s not like you don’t know how to be kind and caring. Part of the reason why we fell in love was because you couldn’t stop fussing over me.”

Flora practically jolts to life, and her cheeks flush pink. It’s hard not to laugh at just how cute she is when she’s embarrassed — although he supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised, considering he thinks she’s cute all the time. Even when she’s getting grumpy with him, she is still impossibly adorable. He loves looking at her. “I was not fussing!”

In the end, he just can’t resist, and a smirk plays at his lips. “Really? All of the brushing, the hair adjusting? That wasn’t fussing?”

His wife’s hands land on her hips and she pouts. “I was just doing my job!”

“And what was it you said, when I was confessing to you? ‘All I know is how to take care of others’?”

Her arms fold across her chest as she falls silent for a moment, her brows still furrowed together as she watches his face for a prompt. He’s caught her in a bit of a corner here, and she seems to know it, too. Honestly, Corrin feels a little proud of himself for that one — it makes one more point for him, and one less point for the mean little voices in Flora’s head.

“Something like that,” she murmurs. His hand slips across the side of her face without a moment’s hesitation, pressing his warm palm to her cheek. She melts into its presence like it’s the most natural thing in the world, even moving to hold his hand there with her own.

“Right, so even if you don’t directly know how to be a mom, you have a warm heart. I have no doubts that you’ll figure it out. After all, I don’t think anybody wakes up one day knowing how to be a parent. I know I certainly don’t feel like I know everything, but I still want to do it, because I know I’ll have you at my side.”

“Corrin…”

Her eyes flutter shut, drinking in the comfort of him. Even with only a minor moment’s touch, he is already feeling that same reassuring bliss that he experienced last night after they finished their lovemaking — that warm, safe sensation that spread through his body as he held his wife in his arms. She must be feeling the same. He doubts she would be holding his hand so intently if she didn’t.

“I know I keep saying it, but I think you’ll be an amazing mom. Nobody in this world has a bigger heart than you,” he purrs, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, “You really never give yourself enough credit. Your nurturing, your empathy, your leadership… all of these are treasures, and things about you that are good. I think you’ll be the perfect mom, Flora, if you would just believe in yourself. I know I believe in you.”

“You always have,” she mumbles.

“And I’m not going to stop now. Even if you’re not sure, I guess I’ll just have to have enough faith in you for the both of us, then.”

A hint of a smile sneaks across her lips as her eyes flutter open once more. The sight of those beautiful grey irises, now sparkling with newfound solace, fills his heart with more joy than he knows what to do with. Seeing her so sad before made him ache, but it is like every bruise he’s ever had has healed when he sees a hint of a smile start to sneak across her lips.

“You’re quite corny, you know that?”

She’s got him there, and she knows it by his snicker. “Is it corny if it’s the truth?”

“Only a little,” she sighs dreamily, “I just wish that was enough to fix everything. I believe that you love me, Corrin, but I still wonder if that love has made you blind to my faults.”

“I wonder the same thing about your self-deprecation and your strengths. When you look for the worst in yourself, it’s all that you can see… and even if you really are a bitter woman who cannot socialize with or nurture other human beings-” he points a finger at her, “- which you are not; I love you anyway, and I think you will be amazing. I feel like that should count for something. You trust my judgement, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He nods. “Good… and Felicia’s judgement. You trust that, too, right?”

Flora pauses, dubious. “A… little less than yours, but I suppose I do, yes. Where are you going with this?”

“Do you remember what she said, when we told her that we were trying for a baby?”

Flora’s cheeks burn once again, and Corrin has to avoid chuckling when the newfound heat radiates onto his palm. “... That we were going to be the best parents on the continent?”

“Exactly. And she would know, wouldn’t she? She spent every day with us for over a decade. You trust her judgement, don’t you?”

“Well, I guess that's… true. Felicia’s a handful, but she’s always been good with measuring people’s intentions.”

Corrin nods enthusiastically. “And that’s just your family. Azura was delighted when I told her that we were interested in having kids. She wanted to know if you were pregnant right then so she could dote on you.”

No further explanation would be needed on just how important that was. Felicia’s excitement is a given, considering that Flora is her beloved twin sister and Corrin one of her best friends, but Azura? The songstress often struggled to connect with others and preferred to keep to herself, so the fact that she had complete and total faith in Flora as a person and mother says a lot. Flora’s face even softens at the mention.

“When I told Camilla, she kept saying how lucky our children were going to be, growing up with us as parents. Takumi was certain that we’d have the most well-behaved and well-loved nephews and nieces for him. It’s the same for all of my siblings, and our other friends, too. Silas, Lilith, Xander, Leo, Elise, Hinoka, Sakura, Ryoma… they all think you’re perfect, Flora. I do too. Faults or no faults, I believe that there is no one in this world more suited to being a mother than you.”

A moment ago, it might have startled him to see that tears are beginning to well up in her eyes. Now, he can only grin as she starts to sniffle, certain that as a smile breaks onto her face, that these are happy tears. “Don’t make me cry,” she whimpers.

“I’m sorry,” he half-laughs, pulling her in close, “I don’t mean to do it. I just love you so much, Flora, and I want you to know it.”

“I love you too,” she sniffs, burying her face in his neck as she wraps her arms around him, “I’ll never know how I got so lucky as to have a real-life prince charming.”

“Because you deserve one.” He plants another soft kiss on her head. “And everything else you’ve always wanted. I’ll do everything I can to make your dreams come true, Flora.”

As she buries her face in the crook of his neck, their bodies united in love once more, true peace finds its way to his heart when he hears her say the words:

“You are my dream, Corrin.”

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Mature Audiences

General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Takumi & His Siblings, Takumi & Leo, Takumi & Hinata & Oboro

Additional Tags: References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Revelation Route, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Brotherly Love, Nightmares, Near-Death Experiences, Anxiety, Prince Takumi of Hoshido it may be time to accept that you’re a good person and people like you

Story Chapter Count: 7 chapters

Story Summary:

Takumi’s Solo Ending, JPN:

“Takumi assisted in the restoration of Hoshido, which had been desolated due to the ravages of war. All the human kindness he had seen suppressed the shadow, he was recognized throughout the country as a skilled leader, and he became someone who could be relied on.” (Translated by @.aphonicdreams, Tumblr)

An exploration of just a few of the moments that led Takumi to realize that the world is much kinder than he anticipated.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Please Note:

This story exists in multiple parts. The publication of these parts is ongoing, but the longer explanation of ‘why not all at once’/additional schedule is here.

The content of this story will also be only on AO3 due to recent discussions of AI scraping, thank you for your understanding!)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates (Birthright/Conquest/Revelation-relevant)

Relationships: King Garon & King Sumeragi, King Garon & Xander, King Sumeragi & Ryoma

Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Fatherhood, Mentions of Ikona & Katerina, References to Infidelity, References to Sex, Political Conflict, Gen Fic, Enemies to Sort of Kind of Friends, Garon has beef with a literal infant

Story Word Count: 7776 words

Story Summary: Banquets in Izumo typically mean one thing for King Garon, and that’s avoiding the Hoshidan King like the plague. Their countries having been at odds longer than either man can count, and they’re all but certain that their newly born sons will follow in those footsteps behind them. But when Garon stumbles upon Sumeragi in a vulnerable position, one that he understands all too well, the two enemies just might come to find a moment of unforeseen understanding.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Note: Due to potential threat of AI-scraping from Tumblr, I have opted to publish the actual text content of this fic only on AO3. Thank you for your understanding.)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Camilla/Hinoka

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Post-Fire Emblem Fates Revelation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Abandonment Issues, Fan Child, Motherhood, Family Bonding, Special thank you to my Tumblr followers who helped me name little Millie :)

Story Word Count: 4,534 words

Story Summary: Growing up, Hinoka came up with many pictures of what her life would look like, but being the wife of the ex-princess Camilla Soranus was a possibility that never crossed her mind. Parenting a six-year-old daughter alongside her, even less so. The things we picture for our futures often turn out differently than we expected, and nobody knows that better than Hinoka, because these two girls are some of the most precious things she could ever have dreamed of having… Even if they do try to rope her into their own kind of trouble, every once in awhile.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Note: Due to potential threat of AI-scraping from Tumblr, I have opted to publish the actual text content of this fic only on AO3. Thank you for your understanding.)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Mature Audiences

General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Hinoka & Sakura

Additional Tags: Conquest Route, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Heavy Angst, Panic Attacks, Family Issues, Corruption, Character Study

Story Word Count: 4,918 words

Story Summary: Corrin choosing Nohr is a life-changing decision not just for her, but for everyone around her as well. If it weren't for her, Sakura might not have chosen to fight in the war. If it weren't for her, Sakura's family might have been whole again. If it weren't for her, she might not have been haunted at night by the ghosts of the soldiers she's killed in battle. Corrin is to blame for so much of the pain that has occurred in Sakura's life, but in some part, she knows she must own up to the pain she caused herself as well...

But if Sakura's choice to fight did little more than delay the inevitable, then she must ask herself: was her choice to fight back against Nohr truly all for nothing?

[Read it on AO3.]

(Note: Due to potential threat of AI-scraping from Tumblr, I have opted to publish the actual text content of this fic only on AO3. Thank you for your understanding.)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: General Audiences

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Corrin/Silas

Additional Tags: Weddings, Wedding Day Jitters, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Dynamics, Revelation Route

Story Word Count: 2,458 words

Story Summary: A war seems an odd time to get married, but to Corrin and Silas, there is no better place to unite in their love than the Deeprealm Fortress where they first fell in love.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Note: Due to potential threat of AI-scraping from Tumblr, I have opted to publish the actual text content of this fic only on AO3. Thank you for your understanding.)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Felicia & Flora

Additional Tags: Revelation Route, Light Angst, Childhood Memories, Sibling Rivalries, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Friendship, Devotion, The Ice Tribe is loosely based on the Sámi peoples of Norway in this fic, The story is told in a list format

Story Word Count: 5,837 words

Story Summary: How does one become a retainer with devotion as strong as Felicia's?

The answer, she finds, is contained with one-hundred steps. One-hundred steps from ages seven to twenty-one, guiding her forward to claim her place alongside the friend she came to love like another sister.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Note: Due to potential threat of AI-scraping from Tumblr, I have opted to publish the actual text content of this fic only on AO3. Thank you for your understanding.)

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sex

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Ryoma/Felicia

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Japanese Culture, Married Couple, Anxiety Disorder, Flirting, Self-Esteem Issues, Marriage Proposal, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation, I will steer this ship myself if I have to, I would prefer the help but I am unafraid to do it on my own if I must

Chapter Word Count: 4,982 words

Story Summary:

Even with a wedding ring on her finger and a Hoshidan royal heirloom in her hair, Felicia still worries that she isn't good enough for Ryoma.

[Read it on AO3.]

Ryoma’s cherished family heirloom winks at Felicia mockingly.

No matter how she seems to tilt her head, it always manages to catch the sun and reflect, forming a mass of tiny spots on the wall that moves just as she does. It’s like it just can’t help trying to remind her that it’s there, like the weight of it isn’t tugging on her ponytail… like the weight of it isn’t hanging on her mind.

It’s there because Ryoma loves her. He’s told her time and time again that it’s true, even though it sounds unbelievable. Yet even so, looking at herself in the mirror, the sun tiara feels unnatural. She is not meant to be here. The Hoshidan king has made a grievous mistake, just like his father did before him, and there will be a new wife in a few years.

If Ryoma’s own feelings won’t do it, then she wagers the clamouring of the people will.

It is no secret to her that many of the Hoshidan people dislike her. Rumours have been floating around about the Nohrian temptress who lured the king into her bed since before they returned from That Place. Valla. She tries not to let it get to her, because she knows that they are just being small-minded, and that people can change. Ryoma himself is proof enough of that. It’s just that… Well, she’s never really had the luxury of being liked.

She’s annoying. She knows that she’s annoying. There are only so many times people can take her ripping their favourite dress or breaking their fine china or crying over every little insult. She understands. Every time the others have said something sharp or cruel about her, she’s understood. Maybe not liked it, maybe still reacted like she usually would in the moment (calling them a name and then bursting into tears), but she got the point. She could sympathize with people’s frustrations because they are largely her own. It is not difficult for her to understand why people don���t want her around.

For whatever reason, Ryoma just doesn’t seem to get that. Either he doesn’t get it or he just doesn’t care. He can see how hard she’s trying – that’s what he says. He can see how hard she’s trying, so if she makes all of these stupid mistakes and can’t stand on her own feet, he doesn’t mind because she’s doing her best. Her best is all he can ask of her.

It makes him upset, as well, that other people say rude things about her. He presents as very calm, but when people call her a nuisance and an idiot and even a floozy, his temper rages. He could spend an hour just pacing the floor, muttering about the audacity of whomever decided they would talk about her today. More than once she’s had to talk him out of brutally dismissing one of the castle servants for gossiping rudely about her. Every time it happens, he always affirms how much he loves and respects her, and that her detractors are missing her worth out of their own blindness… and it melts her heart. Few people affirm to her so regularly why they bother to keep her around, so to have Ryoma do it so kindly is a dream.

But eventually you have to wake up from dreams, and she knows one day that Ryoma is going to wake up and realize that he chose nothing more than a graceless, doltish girl who will someday sour his mood every time they cross paths.

Felicia closes her eyes, feeling tears start to wet her lashes. She shouldn’t cry now. The banquet is in no more than an hour, and she needs to finish getting ready. Even if she feels like she’s wearing clothes far too big for her, she needs to at least act like she can carry herself with the grace of a queen. Even if she is not the woman Ryoma thinks her to be, she can at least try. Perhaps it will help her prolong the dream she is living in. As her eyes flutter open again and she begins to run her fingers through her hair, she heaves a deep sigh, praying that she’ll be able to get through tonight. There won’t be too many people, but she doesn’t want to disappoint Ryoma.

Ryoma…

She can hear his footsteps coming down the hall. Quickly, she swipes at her eyes. He doesn’t need to know that she’s upset. It will only make him worry, and she doesn’t want to worry him when he has so many other things that are worth caring much more about. They have a banquet to handle. This insecurity business is a problem for their inevitable divorce. Instead, she just continues to stare into the mirror, willing that weak woman she sees to become someone stronger.

“How are you faring in here, Felicia?”

Her husband’s voice is warm and comforting to her ears as he pokes his head through the door, especially with how pleased he sounds. Felicia has never been all that comfortable with big parties, being raised in a tower, but Ryoma always seems to like them. If nothing else, she thinks he just likes to eat fancy feast foods, but she certainly can’t blame him for that. Even she likes to get delicacies off his plate when he realizes she’s never tried them.

“I’m…” She doesn’t tear her eyes off her reflection, as if somehow that hope of hers will change her any minute. “Fine, I think. Just… deciding what to wear.”

With a soft chuckle, Ryoma slips into the room, sliding the door shut behind him. “It certainly must be a challenge. You look beautiful in everything,” he says, his voice smooth like porcelain, “I bet you would even look beautiful in nothing.”

Felicia’s face burns like the Hoshidan sun. It’s not like Ryoma to be so openly flirtatious. Part of her wants to play along, to say that it shouldn’t be a bet because he knows, but the feeling of his hands moving to rest on her waist and his voice next to her ear make her melt. She’s never been good at taking compliments, but ones like these just make her stomach explode with butterflies. She’s married to this man, she’s shared the dragon’s bliss with him; yet somehow, he can turn her into a puddle of giggles without even trying. That’s the hard part about all this: that even if he has this effect on her, someday, his opinion will change. He won’t whisper these things in her ear anymore. He might even be disgusted that he ever dared to say them.

“Oh, s-stop it,” Felicia manages to stammer out, pulling the end of her ponytail in front of her face to camouflage her embarrassment, “You know I can’t wear that out in front of the courtiers.”

Ryoma laughs once again, nuzzling her head. “Of course. That’s an outfit you save only for me,” he sighs, “Jokes aside, my love, is this what you’ve chosen?”

It takes all her power not to wince as the butterflies in her belly start to wither and die at the words. Looking at herself in the mirror, she can actually see her face fall.

She had been certain that this one would be perfect… It is something Oboro had made for her as a gift. The kimono is a cerulean blue, decorated to look like a bit like a garden pond where vibrant, blooming lotus flowers and cheerful lily pads are swimming within. She has paired it with a soft pink obi sash, and accented with a soft green obijime to match. By all means, it is a beautiful outfit – and perfectly in line with what she should be wearing. Unless, of course, she had forgotten that she was supposed to wear the twelve-layer ensemble…? Oh, Ryoma never cared much about fashion. If he has something to say now, then she knows it most certainly cannot be good.

“Is it bad? Did I make the wrong choice? B-Because if it looks bad, I totally s-still have time to change!”

Ryoma gives her a quizzical look through the mirror, tilting his head slightly, as if not understanding at all. “I did not mean to imply that I dislike your choice. I merely wanted to know if you’d come to a conclusion.” He pauses. “I did just say I like the way you look in everything. You’ve always had a keener sense of fashion than I.”

She bites her lip, smoothing out the kimono’s “skirt”. “O-Oh… Sorry. I just… wanted to look good. I know a lot of people are looking at us.”

Ryoma shrugs. “True, but they are… self-important people. They are more likely to worry about their decorum over your kimono.”

She wants to believe this is true, but almost as soon as he’s done talking, a bewildered expression crosses his face and makes it seem not so. She tries to follow his gaze, tracing his line of sight to her waist, and the obi that she has tied. Oh, what has she done now?!

“Did I tie my kimono wrong again?” she asks meekly, trying to remember whether the rule was left over right or right over left. She’s not sure which, but one of them implies that she’s a corpse.

“Um,” Ryoma pauses, biting his lip. His hands hover above the obi for a minute, a frown etching into his brows. “You have it somewhat right, but… May I?”

His hands graze the bow she’s tied at the front. Without another word, she nods, trusting him to do what he needs to do. His hands don’t tend to wander without permission… even when she’s okay with them doing so. With gentle touches, he unties her bow and repositions it, reaching to tie it around the back this time. All the while, she watches his face in the mirror, her stomach twisting as she watches that uncomfortable expression melt away. She really puts him through a lot, doesn’t she? She should be able to remember something this simple. It’s an important part of his culture.

“Why does it have to be around the back?”

Ryoma swallows, and she notices the faintest hint of a blush rise in his cheeks. “Tying the kimono in the front is usually done by… the ladies of the Red-Light District,” he confesses, trying to keep his voice even, “It’s still work, of course, but it’s…”

“Not what I do at all,” she whines, “Oh, no, no, no, no…”

Feeling her anxiety, he leans into her, pressing his comfort against her body. At any other time, it would be nice to feel his body up against hers. He’s usually so much more reserved than she is. Right now, though, she just can’t appreciate it. “It’s alright, I fixed it. No harm done. Just remember for next time.”

“You know I won’t…”

She feels the loss of his hands as they glide off her waist. Already she misses their warmth.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Joining another culture is not simple. These things will happen,” he says, matter-of-factly, like she isn’t making these mistakes every day. Nonetheless, he plants a soft kiss to the back of her head, awkwardly maneuvering around her tiara. It would most certainly hurt to get poked with that. Felicia may or may not have learned that one the hard way. “However, with that done, I must ask if you are almost ready? The courtiers shan’t be ready for another hour, but Miss Ayame wanted to go over some etiquette with you, were you willing.”

Etiquette, right. Of course, it is etiquette. Just another piece of proof that she is not built for this job, neither as queen nor as wife. Merely hearing that makes her throat feel like someone has stuffed it with cotton, and her gaze retreats to floor. She doesn’t like looking at those traitorous feet of hers much, but she prefers it to looking into her own eyes right about now. She can feel the tears pushing at them, and if she sees that, she knows for certain they’re going to fall.

That’s another thing Ryoma will get sick of: she cries over everything. Jakob used to like to say that she could be an actress like that, crying on command. All she had to do was think a little too hard.

She’s not helping herself by thinking like this, but she makes herself so nervous sometimes that it’s all she can do.

“Felicia, are you alright?”

Felicia lifts her head, turning to look over her shoulder at her husband. When she meets his gaze, she’s surprised at how concerned he looks, his brows knitting together as he looks at her. She knows it’s not disappointment in her as much as it is worry for her, but still… he can’t help but feel unsettled looking at him like that. She pushes a weak smile, hoping it will salvage something.

“O-Of course, dear. Why do you ask?”

Ryoma blinks, incredulous. For a moment she cannot recall what that facial expression could possibly be about, but the pinkish quality to his face clues her in. She must not have realized it, but she’s been lowering the temperature of the room. Considering the increasing pinkness of his cheeks and nose, it’s starting to be by quite a bit.

That explains all the unusual blushing and flirting.

“Oh. That.”

“Yes,” Ryoma says, with greater emphasis on the next part, “That.”

Suddenly, Felicia’s self-consciousness has become external. Damn ice powers. They always give her away. Heat rises in her cheeks and the tips of her ears, and she finds herself turning away from her husband and mirror to pace the room. Before long her hand is at her mouth, longing to gnaw at her newly manicured fingernails. She has to pull herself away.

“I thought it seemed cold in here,” Ryoma begins, ready to do his usual comforting tricks, she imagines. “Nerves are understandable. Being royalty is not simple. I just thought… you were worried about the banquet, but not so worried that it was causing distress.”

Felicia stops and closes her eyes. Those tears from before continue to threaten her, but she would hate to cry now. She needs to be brave. Besides, her osue would be so upset with her if she ruined the make-up they spent half an hour on. It would be just another way she lacked the grace of a queen, the queen that Ryoma deserved to have ruling at his side.

“I see now that I was mistaken.” He pauses. “I will ask you again, Felicia. Are you alright?”

Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. She can’t figure out how to get the words out. All of these thoughts and feelings have been brewing inside her for so long, but the way they’re bubbling up, it just makes it so nothing coherent seems to be able to come to fruition. Everything just pops before it can leave her mouth. She could not be more frustrated. Here Ryoma is, ready and willing to listen to her every word, but it won’t come out. Nothing will come out. Why? Because she doesn’t want it to? Because she both does and doesn’t want to be comforted, to be held and told she’s being silly?

“I…”

Willing herself to be brave, she turns her head back to look at him once more. What she finds, instead of the stern disappointment she was picturing – why was she picturing that again after it was so obviously not there last time – is Ryoma, with his arms folded across his chest and that same crease in his brow, now deepening. When she stares into his eyes, the pools of burnt umber show only sadness and worry. It’s the same look he used to give her when she’d come stumbling back into their quarters during the Silent War, equipped with a new nasty gash or bruise from her day’s work. It is worry. It is love.

Why does it have to be love?

It is this thought that brings the first leak forth. Though she tries to stop it, her bottom lip quivers like dew on red-stained autumn leaves. Then one rebellious tear streams from her eye. Then another, from the next. Then another. Then another. Back and forth, like a pattern, until it becomes abundantly clear that she is not going to be beating her desire for tears. With no fight left in her, Felicia can do nothing but start to sob.

“I… I’m so-so-sorry…” she whimpers, reaching up to swipe at her eyes. This will surely ruin her eye make-up, but she can scarcely find it within herself to care. “I’m so-so-so-so-sorry… No, n-no, no…”

If she thought Ryoma looked upset before, he looks horrified now. Borderline uncomfortable, really. She can’t blame him for that. Not only has he always been a little… challenged in the emotional expressions department, but she has basically just exploded at him. She can already feel the winds beginning to whip up in the room, and before long she’s sure that someone will come wandering in and demand to know why it’s so cold. And when that happens, she’ll just be a chore for him again, something to make excuses for so nobody looks bad in front of the kingdom.

“Felicia, please, just calm down.” Ryoma makes his way towards her. For a moment, she wonders if he maybe he’s going to try to hold her, but the feeling of his hands wrapping around her wrists stops her. Gingerly, he pulls them away from her face, exposing her red, teary eyes. “Whatever is going on, it is something we can fix together. Just… dry your tears. Let yourself breathe.”

“B-But I’m ruining everything,” she sniffles, biting at her bottom lip to try and keep it from trembling.

His hands slide from her wrists to her hands, interweaving his fingers with hers. She’s always known it, but it’s still surprising how much bigger his hands are than hers. He’s always been taller, more imposing than she; but this way, she can really see how dainty she must seem in comparison. She’s nothing more than a tiny creature in need of his protection in this state.

“Felicia, I see nothing ruined.” His tone is so matter-of-fact it nearly snaps her out of her stupor completely. It’s still soft, knowing well enough that he should always handle her with care when she cries, but… blunt, in its own way. Honest. Distinctly Ryoma. “I meant what I said. I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, genuinely.”

Felicia sniffles once more and tries to blink away the tears. For a moment, she tries to speak again, but the shaky, sobbing breaths are still overtaking her. Ryoma reminds her once more that she must catch her breath, put herself into a calmer place, and then they can talk. She takes his advice as best she can. Slowly, but surely, she draws in those breaths. The first several are nothing more than a couple of shivering shakes, but as Ryoma breathes with her, she seems to be able to come back to herself.

“There,” Ryoma sighs, squeezing her hands, “Now. Are you ready to talk to me?”

She nods cautiously. “I… I think I am,” she mumbles. Somehow, she almost feels embarrassed staring up at his face now. She gave up a long time ago on being embarrassed by her own blubbering, but the fact that she just shattered when he asked a simple question…

Ryoma returns her nod, holding his own tongue in favour of letting her lead the way. Silently, Felicia prays that she can express herself the right way. It is hard to tell someone who loves you that you worry they won’t some day. It is even harder when you realize that you don’t necessarily have any evidence for any of that. Nasty words can do a number on a person’s sense of self. Felicia hopes Ryoma recognizes that.

“Ryoma, I… Are you sure you love me?”

Gods, that didn’t come out right at all. Ryoma’s chin tilts downward, a frown gracing his features. As his eyebrows raise in questioning, Felicia finds herself cringing and rushing to correct her words.

“N-No, I didn’t mean it like that, I know you love me – gods, you are so good at showing it, I just…” she shakes her head. “I want to know if you’re sure about me.”

“If I’m… sure about you?” He quirks a brow. “I don’t follow.”

“Well, it’s just… I think you’re really amazing. You’re, you’re brave, and strong, and clever… Patient and kind, too. You work so hard for your kingdom and your people, and somehow always make time for me and your family, too. There’s so much about you that I admire, and I guess I just don’t understand what someone like you sees in someone like me.”

Ryoma’s frown deepens. It’s not the first time he’s heard this from her, not by a long-shot. She can already hear his voice in her head, calm, even, and a little sad, telling her that she’s not going herself anywhere near enough credit.

“I don’t see our relationship as unequal at all. There are a well of things about you that I greatly admire, and it pains me that you think so little of yourself. What of your caring nature, or your bravery in the face of that which terrifies you? What about your love for your friends and family, or the open-mindedness I can only hope I can someday match? You must give yourself more credit. I did not marry you out of pity. When I told you I loved you, I meant it sincerely.”

Remembering his words sends a small spark of warmth through her. She’s grateful for his patience, even if she fears it will run out.

“Lately, I’ve been trying to practice telling myself that I don’t care, you know? Everyone e-else, they… they have their own opinions about us. They don’t have to like me, especially when they barely actually know me. B-but, even with that, I guess I just keep getting afraid that some day you’re…”

Her voice catches, and Ryoma squeezes her hands once again, silently willing her not to cry. He once confessed to her that he hates watching her cry. Your smile is so much more striking.

“I’m a-a-afraid that you’re going to see me the way everyone else does. As an annoyance.”

“Felicia, I married you because I…” A new heat lights up his face. Saying I love you is on the list of things that is not very Hoshidan, she has learned. They like to express their love through actions more than words, and tend to get incredibly flustered when asked to say so verbally. Ryoma tries to match her style for her sake, she knows. This is why she doesn’t mind him dodging. “I didn’t think of you that way. You’re… accident-prone, there is no denying that, but that is only one piece of what makes you who you are. It would be like if you were to decide you disliked me one day because I’m stern and serious. Does it bother you that I’m that way?”

She shakes her head no, shyly. She figures she might be able to get where this is going, but a more childish part of her wants to cling to her panic. Feeling inferior is secure, comfortable. It’s easier to think lowly of herself.

“I knew you were clumsy when I started courting you. I knew that my people might not receive you warmly. I admired you too greatly to care then, and if I were to start caring now, I would be a poor excuse for a husband.”

“I’m not so w-worried about now, though,” she mumbles, heaving a heavy sigh, “I’m worried about all of the moments now that are going to add up to later.”

For a moment, Ryoma almost looks frustrated. He searches her face, clearly trying to figure out how to conjure the words, when suddenly his eyes suddenly catch the sun tiara in her hair. Then, just as before, his expression softens.

“Do you recall what I told you, when I asked you to marry me?”

Does she recall? Pah. Like she could ever forget. It was the happiest day of her life up until the day they actually got married. She had run around camp squealing with glee, showing off her ring to anyone who asked, and to several people that didn’t. She recited the speech over and over again so all of their siblings and all their friends could get a hint of the romance. It had been hard not to swoon.

“Your earnestness is so endearing. I’ve never met a cuter woman. All my life, I thought I would never understand the depths of emotion that brought my father to the woman he so dearly loved, but… I remember the first time I saw you. The moment I saw you by the harbour, I knew that one day, you would mean something to me.” Here, he had stopped and chuckled. She had laughed through her joyful tears alongside him. “I suppose at the time, I believed you would be a thorn in my side, yet somehow at the back of my mind, it was a feeling of familiarity. I didn’t love you then, but I knew someday I would.”

She had sniffled and wiped at her tears, feeling his hand caress her face. The proposal was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. She remembered leaning into his hand. She would have been content to stay there with him, forever, had his other hand not come to place something in her lap. A flicker of golden light made her glance down, catching her first glimpse of the sun tiara. Its beauty caught her off-guard. Shiny, artfully sculpted, and heavier than expected. It was gorgeous.

“The sun tiara is the most important gift a Hoshidan king can give to any one person.” He paused here, perhaps for dramatic effect. “It is a symbol of commitment, trust, and belief in another person…”

Her eyes flicked between his face and the tiara in disbelief, heart beating ten miles a minute. Ryoma, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be able to stop smiling. “W-W-What are you saying?”

“You’re not… giving this to me, a-a-are you?”

“Felicia, would you do me the honour of becoming my bride?”

That was the question that had broken the dam.

“Oh my gods,” she had wailed, finally letting her tears fall. She flung her arms around him with reckless abandon, pulling him in close. “Oh my gods, yes! Of course!”

This moment still fresh in her mind, as if it was yesterday, she repeats his words. As each word falls from her lips, a smile begins to sneak across Ryoma’s face. As if he, too, can feel this memory, his hand cups her face just as it did before. Felicia can’t help but lean in, nuzzling it close. His hands are rough, calloused from years of intense training and swordsmanship, but comforting nonetheless. The fact that she accepts his support only seems to make him smile more.

“If I did not know that I loved you with the certainty of all my heart, then I would not have given you the most precious thing I could give – my life.”

Tears spring to her eyes once more, but for an entirely different reason. She tries her best not to let them fall. Maybe this will salvage some of her make-up.

“When I think of all of the millions of moments we are going to spend together, I don’t think of you as creating negative outcomes in each and every one. I think of you as making things, positive or negative, even better.” His thumb rubs comfortingly along her cheek. “I think of the nights we’ll spend together soothing a colicky baby, or the big dinners we’ll have with both of our families. I think of all of your meals that I’ll get to taste, and the day that you finally make your first delicious meal. I think of getting to lay down our weapons and forging peace together, overcoming what others say about a union between a Hoshidan man and Nohrian woman. To make a marriage last, you have to have a well of patience with one another – to grow into better people together. You are no more a work in progress than I am. Never believe that you are too much for me. You are just enough. You are everything I wanted.”

The tears finally manage to pour over her once more, make-up be damned. This time, at least, she can find it within herself to accompany them with a smile. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she whispers.

Ryoma chuckles softly. “I ask myself the same thing about you twice a day.”

His gaze, so full of love, falls down to her lips. The thought of kissing him again makes her giggle like a teenage girl, but the feelings he’s given her remind her of a more mature part in their relationship. He has her whole heart, and loves her as a whole woman… and she feels the same for him. Exchanging no more words, Felicia pushes herself onto her tip-toes to try and match his height, feeling nothing but warmth and comfort as Ryoma leans in.

It is the most perfect thing in the world, when she feels his lips pressed against hers. They were meant for this. They were meant for each other. Cliché? Maybe. That didn’t matter to Felicia.

She always did like happily ever afters.