Gahhhhh! I haven't written Fire Emblem in too long! I hope you guys enjoy. The plot may be a bit thick, let me know if it needs more explanation. This will be multi-chapter and a rewrite of an old fic so bear with me. Chapters should update fairly quick!

I do not own Fire Emblem, or any of the characters belonging thusly.

~Aria

I examined the man in front of me with mild intrigue. He was a stout thug with cruel eyes and a thick sword at his belt—hardly seeming the kind of man who had bullion to spare for the Ylissean war effort, but I wasn't one to dash my tactician's judgment. He was beastlike, with rippling muscles, and the stupid part of me felt kind of jealous. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling self-conscious without Falchion. Aria had insisted I leave it back, since it was a dead giveaway to my noble lineage, but again I wasn't too happy about it. I still had a sword at my side, so I prayed to Naga it would be enough to get me through this meeting.

A quick air of fear edged over me as I scanned the room for my tactician. I focused for the whir of a purple dress—her decided attire for our little cover story—that would indicate her dancing by. I felt sick with worry; we had no place here in a Plegian tavern with these strange men. The pub hall was bustling, which Aria said was a good sign, but the presence of Plegian soldiers scattered about the place, drinking and whatnot, had me anxious. Was this really the most appropriate location for a meeting as such?

"You need not worry about your wife, milord. Foley has her in good hands," he smirked, "and feet I suppose!" He laughed gutturally, choking the air with the stale sound.

I swallowed at the mention of Aria as my wife. He's using the cover, that's good. Perhaps the mission wasn't going as bad as it seemed.

"Of course—yes, I know she's fine. She does enjoy her dancing…" my words drifted as I continued to scan the crowd.

"Right then!"

The man, who called himself Damon, leaned forward across the table. His eyes gleamed slyly and his mouth opened to reveal a mouthful of yellow teeth. I forced my chin downward, trying to hide my inescapable royal posture, and slouched my back.

"So you want funds, yes?"

"It's why we came—yes."

From the edge of my vision, I identified Aria, flowing through a dance with perfect precision. She truly was an incredible dancer. Her motions were fluid despite her clumsy oaf of a partner. The man was disgusting. He was enjoying the obvious distraction more than he should've, hugging her hips tightly and rubbing his hands across her waist. I once again felt sick. And I wouldn't feel better until we got the hell out of there.

"Of course. Although, perhaps somewhere a bit more private?" Damon motioned subtlety to dancing crowd. Aria and the man, Foley, seemed to be working their way back.

I narrowed my eyes at his words. "Can we not converse this with A—my wife as well?" I caught myself almost breaking our identity.

"I think we best not," he smiled sourly, "I'd prefer to speak with you alone, sir." His hand slipped to the hilt of his sword. Something was wrong—though I feared I had no choice unless I wanted to make a scene.

"Then you may lead the way," I said coolly.

Aria intercepted us on the way.

"Are we ready to discuss business?" she said with a smile directed at me and Damon, her eyes questioning.

"Yes, well, milord and I have decided he must speak alone. No offense to you of course, ma'am. Is that alright?" he smirked in a sickening manner.

My gut dropped as I looked to Aria. What are we going to do? I searched my tactician's earthen eyes for the answer. There was an odd, calming air about her—she seemed entirely at ease. She nodded in my direction, signaling me that all was fine. I nodded back.

"I understand. I'll just wait here for you then, hmmn?" she looked to me for confirmation. She seemed to be trying to tell me something, but I couldn't figure out what.

"Naturally."

She smiled once more, then placed a soft kiss on my lips. I was thrown off immediately, confused by the sudden sentiment—it was hardly the place. My head spun, conflicted with emotions. She pulled back slowly, whispering softly so that only I could hear, "Stay on watch."

Aria's eyes met mine once more in a deep gaze. She quirked a slim eyebrow and I nodded haphazardly. I forced a smile, trying to keep up the new act she had emplaced.

"Right, until then, my dear," I gushed. I laid a hand gently on her hip and motioned to Damon.

"Shall we?" I asked.

He grunted in response. His face held a strong look of distaste.

We tramped off, heading toward a door near the back of the tavern. Perhaps the kitchen? An odd choice of location, but it didn't really matter. Aria's words hung in my ears, and I glanced back at her in hesitation, only to see her slide her hand down her thigh—where she had hidden a small dagger. I knew then that we were truly in as much trouble as I had thought.

Divine Naga give me strength.

The man opened to the door to a room and held it for me. He edged behind me as the door slammed shut. I spun on the balls of my feet to face him, my back tense with anxiety. The room was small—intended most likely for private meetings—and paneled heavily with cherry wood. Damon, however, I knew had no place in such diplomacy. His drawn sword proved it.

"You damned nobles always think you're so smart," Damon snarled, blade poised at my throat.

Dun, dun, dunnnnnn! To be continued...