Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

"Caeda, has the mail been delivered yet?" Marth called from the living room.

Caeda, looking through the Funnies in the morning newspaper at the kitchen table, sighed. "Marth, you're not fooling anyone with that nonchalant tone," she called back. "I know you're strung out about college admissions, but you need to stop thinking about it. The mail will come when it comes."

"A simple 'no, the mail hasn't come yet' would have been enough."

Caeda's gaze traveled over the Pegasi ads, but she wasn't reading anymore. She remembered all those late nights that she had spent helping Marth fill out his college applications, instead of getting the sleep she needed. Instead of planning her journey back to Talys.

She felt a lump rise in her throat. After the past months and years that she had spent at Marth's side, driving back the forces of evil and rebuilding a devastated Altea, she had hoped that he would have wanted their relationship to be more than just friendship. But he let every romantic moment pass, and the only future he spoke of was the future of the kingdom. It was time for her to forge a different destiny for herself.

There was a knock at the door. Caeda got up to answer it, but Marth burst from the living room and raced past her to the heavy, oaken door. He cast a glance of nervous excitement at her, his hand on the knob. "I'm so glad you're here with me, Caeda. I don't know how I would handle this kind of stress without you."

She smiled at him. Her heart felt a little pang. She loved him so much, how could she handle life without him?

He opened the door. It was the milkman. Marth took the milk from him, stiff with disappointment. Just as he was about to close the door again, Caeda saw the mailman coming down the hall, slipping envelopes under doors. She gave Marth a gentle punch in the shoulder and he turned.

The next instant the two bottles of milk were lying on the carpet, their contents spilt. The astonished milkman was staring after the King who had gone running down the hall to the mailman.

In a minute he was back, clutching the usual sheaf of bills and pardon requests and offers of marriage from different princesses. Perhaps somewhere in that stack was the acceptance letter from one of those far-away colleges, like Harvard and MIT.

Marth's smile was a bit too wide as he laid the pile of mail on top of Caeda's newspaper. She reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Half of her didn't want him to go away to a university, but the other half of her, the princess half, wanted him to get the education that he felt he needed in order to succeed as King.

The next five minutes were a tragedy that took Marth's dreams, stabbed them repeatedly, and left them to die in a Pit of Despair. All six of the schools that he had applied to had turned him down flat, and each gave him their reasons for doing so.

"A handwritten application is the perfect way to showcase the fact that you clearly take neither our institution nor education in general, seriously. Get a typewriter, boy." She exchanged a bewildered look with Marth. What was wrong with his handwriting? It was regal yet neat, worthy of a king. He'd written those essays late into the night, and there wasn't a smudge on them. And what was a typewriter?

"I don't know why you would ever think that a school of our prestige would accept a high school dropout. The death of your parents is an acceptable reason for your grades to suffer for a brief period (two weeks at most), but dropping out of school exemplifies a lack of drive that we would be appalled to see on our campus. And putting martial leadership as one of your high school courses tells us that you are a bloodthirsty teenager and a threat to society." Lack of drive? Bloodthirsty teenager? Threat?

"Your transcript was totally unacceptable. Self-taught?! You could have given yourself any number of credits and any grade score. If you've really done so well, you should have taken the SAT to prove it." Marth's eyes were pools of hurt and confusion. Caeda shook her head. Hadn't several of the founders of that country called the United States been self-taught? And the SAT wasn't provided here, Marth had explained that.

"Telling us that an evil wizard-like person and a dragon are the reason all your teachers are dead and cannot write letters of recommendation for you, means that you are mentally unstable and should see a psychiatrist." Marth tore the letter in two.

"Your description of your education was appalling. However, the last straw was your lack of a class rank. How can we compare you to others in your country without a class rank?" This just wasn't fair. Marth didn't have a chance to go to school with other boys and girls his age. And why should they compare his unique experiences and gifts with those of other unique students?

"We apologize, but there was a large pool of qualified applicants, and you just didn't stand out enough. Try community college."

Caeda took the letters from Marth's limp hands and threw them away. He was staring at the wall without really seeing it. She put a hand on his shoulder. He needed to know that she was there for him.

"I am a failure. My future has been washed down the drain. They have rejected me." He spoke in a wooden tone.

"Aw, Marth. It's not the end, it's just the end of that path. You need to forge a different destiny for yourself."

He turned to look at her, and she saw a flame spark in his eyes. "You're right, Caeda. And now that I have been immunized to rejection-" He dropped to one knee and clasped one of her hands in his. "Caeda, will you marry me? I love you, and my life just wouldn't be complete without you."

She looked into his upturned face and those beautiful blue eyes. "That would be a dream come true for me, Marth."

The next instant, they were locked in an embrace and a passionate kiss.

Marth and Caeda were married after once again defeating the forces of evil. And even though Marth never got the college education he thought he needed, he ended up ruling the entire continent and going down in history as the Hero King.

AN: Just a short little thingy. I've never played FE, so I'm sorry if characterization is a bit off. I hope y'all liked it. ^_^