Exciting! My first Fire Emblem 7 story! Alternate universe, of course, and set in the 1920s for an interesting twist. I hope I'm in for a long one, but I hope you enjoy it as well. I'm warning you my pairings for later in this story are Matthew/Leila, Raven/Lucius, but I recommend you give it a shot even if you're not a fan.

Disclamier: Hey, I don't own Fire Emblem. Surprised?


File: March 13, 1921
Agent: Matthew xxxxxxxxx (Location undisclosed)

No one really looks through files anymore, the spy thought as he hustled through the crowd, his partner following closely behind. In these times where most police forces were more concerned with the prohibition law than the important ones that kept the country from falling apart, you might think 1921 was a bit unstable. There was this new group, the Federal Bureau of Investigation or something, that liked taking over the work that respectable spies like himself had been doing up till now.

Pft. Overachievers. Matthew frowned to himself. He liked to think he was doing something for the good of the people, but in a minority faction, it was hard to believe that he was doing anything useful. Even working for the government, there are some records that allow no access . . . like illegal bank records. This wasn't a hard job, no, but there was a kind of skepticism in his mind today.

"Hey. . ." The former thief glanced to his side at the . . . well, he should say 'man', but that wouldn't be nearly as accurate as 'woman' right now, because that's the role he intended to play today. With such a sweet face andidealistic morals, it was hard believe that his new partner was in this line of work.

"Yes?" his partner had his long golden hair tied back in a bun, and answered in a very Lucius-like tone. He hadn't slipped into his persona just yet. The most important rule to remember as a spy is no one can be allowed to remember your face. Lucius avoided this perfectly by never showing his own. He had such a dry personality to begin with that it was amazing how many masks he was able to put on. He bought an old feather scarf from a thrift shop especially for this job, and he'd already owned the skirt and blouse he was wearing. Matthew didn't really have any premise for worry but. . .

"I have a bad feeling." he said truthfully. "About this mission, I mean. . ."

"I know I'm not as experienced as you, but I think you can trust me to keep the manager distracted long enough for you to get the records." His blue eyes sparkled as he pulled out his munitions to do a quick touch-up.

Matthew frowned. That wasn't exactly what he was worried about. As a spy, you have to risk getting hurt. Not physically, but emotionally. He'd had his fair share of that, but Lucius was new, and very sensitive. Matthew didn't want to watch him break. As they neared the shady-looking building, Matthew caught Lucius' arm.

"I trust you. . ." Matthew reassured himself. He checked his watch. "It's 2:41. I need until 2:45. If you think that I'm in danger of being found out, you know the signal. 'good God'. . ."

"Yes. Yes! I know the plan. Don't worry so much." Lucius shook off his arm and took a deep breath, as if to signal he was going. Matthew watched as his facial features slipped into that of a high class lady, and he straightened his back. He smiled once before turning around towards his target. Watching him walk in front of the window with a pompous swagger, it was almost like he'd transformed into a different person.

He opened the door, and immediately spied the man at the desk, reading a magazine. This was an underground bank, so he didn't expect much, but there were two guys in back that he was slightly worried about, for Matthew's sake. He needed to get back there for the records Hector wanted. Hector, their chief of operations. Hardly the conventional type, he wanted them to look at the documents first hand. Lucius needed to give Matthew enough time to read them without getting caught.

"Umm. . . Hello there?" He waved a kerchief as he walked in the door, catching the man at the counter's attention with a sing-song voice, "Uh. . .Hii!"

"Can I help you?" the man sighed. Lucius took the liberty of crossing his arms on the counter, holding his chin up with his hand. He smiled, forcing his face closer towards the businessman's. He captured his eyes entirely. This gave Matthew a chance, he was sure, to open the door without a sound, and then disappear entirely.

"I'm not on business of my own, but my brother has a rather large sum of money that seems a little conspicuous." He giggled girlishly.

"Don't worry, ma'am. That's what we're he---" Lucius pressed a gloved finger to the man's lips.

"Shh." He smiled, "It's 'miss'. Please."

As the man blushed, Lucius didn't expect to see a sign of Matthew's presence, but the fact that he wasn't looking through the back room's file cabinets meant the two men in that room were delaying his actions. Lucius thought quickly.

"Can we. . . take this to the back, do you think?" he winked slyly at the man. Being one of the best actors in the business, this is where he showed his skill. The man nervously allowed Lucius passage behind the counter, thinking a lovely young woman had taken a fancy for him, but the spy had already noticed the slight step there was to ascend the platform. As he was holding the side rail, Lucius took a very convincing fall.

"Aah! My ankle!" He immediately clung to his right heel.

"A-are you okay?!" the man yelled. The commotion raised the attention of the other two, and they came over to see what was wrong. Matthew wasted no time and slipped through the second door to the back.

"a-aah. Do you think you could help me to the seat over there---" Lucius occupied two of the three men in carrying him over to the chair across the room. He'd seen it before, and knew that he could distract all three of them if he'd feigned a fall. As he continued to protest about how he thought his ankle was 'swelling more than a sponge in a lake', Matthew was flipping through the records. He'd tuned out the whining for the time being.

C- C- Cor--- Corman, Cornwell. There you are.

He pulled out the file, and shook his head. Just a glance wouldn't tell him if it was as Hector had feared, but the amount did look suspicious. He took out his notebook and quickly wrote down the statistics. Dates, amounts deposited, and anything else that he thought looked important went down before he heard Lucius yell rather loudly as one of the men touched his ankle.

"Good God! Be gentle, you brutes! Can't you see I need medical attention?" At those words Matthew dropped his pen and paper into his pocket, and scurried out of the back towards the door. The tallest one glanced back to where he'd just missed Matthew. Quickly, the former thief knew he was going to be spotted, so since he was near the door, he pretended he was just walking in. He took a rather loud step on the wood floor, which roused some attention.

"Welcome. Do you need some help, sir?"

"Not right now. I was just here to pick up my sister." Matthew peered through the crowd of men in the corner, ". . . Lucia?" He walked forward.

"I'm afraid I've hurt my ankle again, Martin." Lucius put his kerchief to his eyes, as if drying away imaginary tears. "You aren't mad at me. . ."

"Oh, no. Of course not." Matthew twitched slightly at the way Lucius said the name 'Martin'. It wasn't safe to say his name, he knew, but. . . Martin?

"Well, help me up, Martie!" Lucius said angrily.

"Yes, sis." He turned to salute to the bank men, "Thanks for your help. I might be back for your services, but now there are other things to attend to." He smiled sheepishly as Lucius whined again for his help. He gathered 'her' in his shoulders and left. He actually carried Lucius around the corner of the street before he was inclined to put him down.

"Did you get it?" Lucius returned to his normal voice, blowing the veil out of his face while he batted it away with his hand.

"I got something." Matthew replied with a smile, knowing that he had all that he needed, "You know I'd swear I didn't know you back there."

Lucius smiled, "I'm glad. That just means you know the real me." They walked a little while longer in awkward silence, "So was Hector right?"

Matthew sighed and reached in his pocket for his notebook, flipping a couple pages to look it over again, "I don't know all the details, but I guess we'll find out soon enough."


Lucius came out of the bathroom looking refreshed, amazingly devoid of make-up, and as close to normal as he could possibly be. At least he looked like a man when he wasn't wearing a skirt, but it definitely helped to have his hair tied back. Matthew was at the table reviewing his notes, and writing them more legibly, because Hector would complain if he didn't.

The radio was only on static because Matthew dug it out of a dumpster, missing one of its antennae. He had a habit of collecting junk. In fact, the apartment was filled with it.

Matthew had scraps of illegible papers everywhere in his tiny room, and half the living space. The other half was food containers and dirty plates. They had a dysfunctional typewriter sitting in the corner, and they rarely plugged in the phone Hector gave them. He said they should be contactable at all times, but Matthew felt insecure with it on. Lucius was too polite to say anything, and kept reminding himself that Matthew had made considerable progress since he became his partner a month ago.

"Lord Hector's coming soon," Matthew mumbled, still writing.

"Mmhmm. Isn't that him now?" Lucius referred to the floor that was currently shaking with what seemed to be a rather large person walking up to their apartment. Three loud rasps came from the door. Lucius headed to open it.

"Are you bringing the paper?" he asked the person outside as he was taught.

"Only the crackheads bring paper at six in the afternoon, Lucius. Forget the password and open the damn door." Hector's husky voice splintered through the wood, and Lucius let go of the hinge.

"Good day, milord." Lucius smiled as it swung open.

"Now that wasn't so hard." Hector grinned back, stepping inside.

"Good afternoon Lord Hector," Matthew chimed into the conversation, "Lucius was brilliant today. We got the information in record time."

"Well good! How does it look?" Matthew tossed the revised notebook at Hector and the blue-haired chief looked it over with a frown. He walked in as he was reading and took a seat on the couch, "Blast!"

Matthew frowned, "Let me guess. That's not the end of the assignment, is it?"

"Unfortunately, you're right. According to other sources, and now confirmed by this, the Cornwells have been stealing from the national bank for at least three years now. I don't quite know how they managed it without an accomplice, but somehow they've been putting government money in this shady bank and shirking our records. Damn good at it, too." Hector scratched his head. "You know they can get twenty years off the bat just for stealing a dollar from the national bank, but this. . ."

"If you know who they are, why don't you arrest them?" Lucius asked reasonably. Hector, despite his lack of power (ordering spies around doesn't count) usually requests backup from the police and other investigation forces as far as their aid can carry.

"I would, but word has it, they've fled . . . we suspect their son knows where they are. . . but we don't know where he is either."

"Cripes!" Matthew interjected, "No leads? No nothing?!. . . Do we get a bonus?"

"No. He can't have gone far. His name's Raymond Cornwell. Here," Hector handed Matthew the folder he'd brought with him, "I have everything you need to know, from his first piss test to when he dropped out of school. I want you to find this guy, and get information from him. If police come for him, my personality analysts have a hunch he won't tell them a thing. He also has the upper hand because we can't prove he knows anything."

"Right. And we're not 'police'. . ." Lucius leaned over Matthew's shoulder, looking at a picture of the subject. He wasn't bad on the eyes, either. "So he's just caught up in this whole mess, but it's not his fault."

"Exactly," Hector sighed, "You're to find out what he knows, or what he doesn't know, and report to me as soon as possible. That's your assignment."

"Assuming we can actually find him. . ." Matthew said sarcastically.

"I heard that," Hector yelled as he headed for the door.

"Are you positively sure you can't give us a bonus?" Matthew tried again.

"Yes, I'm sure." Hector smiled as he left, "Take it easy . . . and turn on your phone for once, will you?" his strong voice muffled through the closed door. Matthew flinched at the mention of the phone. He glanced over to make sure it was still unplugged, paranoid as he was, and there were only a few moments of silence before Lucius spoke up.

"I think we should begin gathering information tonight." He sat down on the couch, ignoring Hector's last comment and beginning to look through the papers he left with them.

"At the speakeasies? . . . are you just looking for an excuse to dress in drag twice a day?"

"Nope. No drag tonight." Lucius smiled at the joke as he gently pulled out a map from a drawer of the city with various locations marked off with notes cluttered between street names. The 'speakeasies' he'd referred to was slang for the clubs scattered around that harbored illegal bars. You had to know the right passwords, or the right people to get into most of them. Generally, they were the best places for city gossip. Matthew had been poking around for a long time, and you could tell by the wear around the edges that this map was the result of his hard work.

"Okay. Well, you set it up, then." Matthew yawned, stretching his arms, "I'm taking a nap."


Lucius chose one of the larger clubs to start with, and gave Matthew a hat to hide his eyes. It was nine thirty before they actually started out,and Matthew became a little attached to the hat on the way there, saying that he felt like a 'real spy'. Lucius just sighed. He wondered how long Matthew could keep up his act.

Lucius had a kind of intuitive feeling about people. There was no way to explain it, or try to understand it, but he could instinctively feel that there was something Matthew didn't want anyone to know. Lucius didn't mind, but he gave off that sort of energy sometimes, and it made him wonder a little. It wasn't in how he winked and whispered something to the doorman to let them into the club, and wasn't in the other secrecies involved in their work. There was something else. When he's ready, Lucius thought, he'll know he can confide in me.

"Okay. See what you can find and then meet me near the left wall in about . . . ," Matthew looked at his watch, raising his voice over the vaudeville jazz in the background, ". . .Twenty minutes?"

Lucius nodded without looking back as he entered the crowd. The music changed to a slow jazz and the alto sax took the lead. Lucius saw a couple girls on the side whispering about him, and they giggled as he looked back. He continued walking until he saw a shady figure at a back table shuffling some cards. It was just the expression on his face, because he was dressed in a pinstripe suit. Coming closer, he was surprised by the long scar across his left eye.

Regardless, Lucius approached him, "Mind if I play a game?"

The man stopped shuffling and looked up as if he knew Lucius was watching him all along, "Why, of course. You gamble, I presume."

"Blackjack is fine." Lucius sat down in the chair next to him. There were a few seconds of silence as the man with gray hair split the deck and placed the two halves parallel to each other on the table. He let them go, hovering his hands faintly above the stacks, and looked up at Lucius.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he smiled gently, bringing his hands apart "Legault's my name. I don't know yours quite yet, but I do know that you need the information I possess."

Lucius, being the actor he was, showed no sign of fear at this information, but of course he realized now was no time to let his guard down. How did this man know they were going to be here? There were plenty of other clubs he could have picked. But since this man was here, he might not be alone. Could Raymond Cornwell really be more than just a runaway? A hostage, maybe? And if this Legault knows I'm a spy then. . . could he know about Matthew too? Is he in danger? Lucius didn't risk looking over his shoulder.

"Very well." He said serenely, ". . . and if I lose?"

At this Legault smirked, "Well, I also need information you possess." He shrugged, "It seems a fair trade to me."

"I see. . ." Lucius clenched his fists beneath the table into the folds of his trousers.

Over at the other side of the room, Matthew was busy having no luck whatsoever. He'd talked to three drunks, two of which were rather violent, and five prostitutes, three of which were male. This was not a good day.

He glanced at his watch. Six minutes left. I don't think I can take much more of this. He took a walk around the room, looking at the tables for suspicious characters. Suddenly, Matthew glanced to a table in the right corner of the room, and his breath caught in his throat. That smirk, and those cards. . .

Legault?!

It only took Matthew a grand total of eight seconds to realize that not only was the person he'd dreaded seeing for the past four years in the same club as him, and probably looking for him, but his inexperienced and impressionable partner was about to be conned out of . . . oh, God only knows what!

Matthew brought his hand to his hat, tipping it downward and looking at the floor in absolute disbelief. Suddenly remembering his place, he looked up, and Legault was staring Directly. At. Him. A smile of smug achievement plastered itself shamelessly on his lips. Matthew froze and dropped his expression to one of absolute fear. He was no actor.

What do I do? Go up and drag Lucius away? No! He was here to find me, and he'll have calculated every one of his moves up until now. Matthew paced up and down in his brain, I have to do something . . . rash and unpredictable to turn the tables on him. He plays his people like he plays chess. What is the thing that I'm LEAST LIKELY to do at this point?

Matthew looked over his shoulder, and a guy was laughing with his friends, holding a mug of bootleg. Matthew tightened his expression, and his fist. No time for second guesses with this. With that, he swung his right fist into the face of the man who was laughing, nearly sending him to the floor, with a few sidestepped paces away. Nearly the whole place grew silent, and the crowd looked at Matthew incredulously.

Legault and Lucius were torn into watching just as they finished the game. The man with the scar rose from his seat, chuckling as he pushed back his chair. He flipped his cards over in afterthought.

"My oh my! Twenty one." Legault announced with a smile as he watched the fight erupting on the dance floor, "I've won . . . but I'm afraid my question has already been answered."

Lucius narrowed his eyes suspiciously and pushed his cards in to fold, choosing to dismiss Matthew's conspicuous actions. There was something he didn't know, here. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose I just wanted to know if I needed to do some cleaning," Legault said darkly as he picked up his coat and pocketed his cards. "At least your partner knows I'm here, now."

"How do you know Matthew?" Lucius asked thoughtlessly, though using Matthew's name was not a mistake. Legault began to turn away, but almost immediately turned around gently, grabbing the back of the chair.

"Ah, yes. I just remembered. That Cornwall delinquent . . . you should be able to find him working at the bakery on the corner of Andrews and North Avenue."

Legault smiled, and Lucius looked at him with confusion. But . . . didn't he win?

"Well, until next time!" He gave a casual wave as he turned and walked away towards the exit.

Lucius was left in the dust of a rather short-lived conversation, and was left watching Matthew being thrown to the floor. He was just in time to see the taller one lead the final kick that sent his partner into the wall. As he walked away, Matthew gasped slightly in pain, cringing his way into a smile as Lucius ran over to him. His partner extended a hand.

"What . . .?" Matthew paused, refusing to take his hand "You're . . . you're supposed to be blending into the crowd."

"I think we already lost hope of that." He sighed in concern as Matthew nodded and reluctantly took his hand, staggering quickly to his feet as he headed for the door. Lucius pulled it open for him to walk through. His partner wasn't exactly in the best shape right now, so he wasn't sure if he should ask questions or just leave him alone.

Their walk passed in silence as they headed back to the apartment. It wasn't far. Lucius was very careful to make sure they weren't followed. Just in case, he went into another apartment building and walked straight out the back to throw off anyone who might have tailed. Matthew didn't say anything, and kept after him at a good pace, battered as he was. Once they were inside, Lucius double locked the door.

Matthew had headed to the couch, and looked at Raymond's papers again.

"I know where he is." Lucius said, sitting down opposite him. "The man who told me. . ."

". . . Legault, huh?" Matthew cut him off, leaning back in his seat and breathing deep. Somehow his being one step ahead of them wasn't so surprising.

"So you do know him, then." Lucius said skeptically, "I won't press the details about whatever you're hiding, but I think you ought to tell me if there's someone who's after you."

"I know, I know." Matthew ran his fingers through his hair, "I haven't seen him in four years. Before I was with Hector. . . I was with his gang. They're a shady bunch of thieves, but they're also some of the best. I'm guessing he's . . . well. . ."

Matthew caught his tongue, leaving Lucius to figure the rest for himself. It was clear his past was not something he felt like talking about at the moment. What was important, now, was that this man from Matthew's past was attempting to meddle in their case.

"What about the Cornwells?" Lucius asked, "How did he know?"

"I'm not sure, but I did see you playing cards. You weren't gambling, were you?" Matthew remembered that special set of cards; he'd lost too many times to them.

"Yes. We played blackjack in exchange for the information I needed." Lucius said, confused. "Is that bad?"

"Legault. . . he always told me he never gambles. If he loses something, it's only because it was meant to be lost."

Lucius raised his eyebrows, ". . . meaning we'd be playing right into his hand."

"Exactly." Matthew gritted his teeth, "The only problem is, he has nothing to gain from all this, except to give me a serious headache. How he found out about our mission is not as important right now as what he plans to do. This doesn't involve you." The former thief spat angrily, "I- I don't understand!"

"Matthew! Calm down." Lucius reprimanded, "It's not your fault this happened. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. I'm going to look for Raymond early tomorrow morning. I suggest you don't come, and take a day to cool off. If it's a trap, I'm sure I'll be able to handle it."

Lucius lowered his voice, taking off his jacket, and leaving it on the couch arm before he left the room. Matthew was looking rather childish sulking on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Lucius." He apologized, not bothering to look in his direction, "I think a day off would do me good." Matthew sighed as he listened to his partner retire to his room. He probably didn't hear. He felt bad he couldn't tell Lucius exactly why his old comrade was after him.

Seeing Legault again brought back some memories he wasn't sure he wanted to remember. But he supposed it was better than forgetting altogether. Legault couldn't have expected him to die, and yet . . . he should have been willing to give his life at any time. Matthew swallowed. He was a traitor for that, and also for joining the enemy. He couldn't blame Legault for wanting to complete his job, even after believing he was dead for so long. Matthew knew he deserved to die . . . the only thing is . . . she wouldn't have wanted it that way, would she?

Matthew drew his eyes shut from the dull apartment, trying to drift into a world of nothingness and sleep. Sleep, once a welcome escape, now became a state of vulnerability.

"Leila. . ."


Chapter preview: Lucius disguises himself as the lovely Lucia in order to gather information, and catches Raymond in what becomes a quick and confusing relationship, as Lucius is unexpectedly falling in love. He is torn between two betrayals. Matthew has a few criticisms.

Language and Interpretation: Earlier Lucius used the word 'munitions', which was a common 1920's term for face powder. It was casual for women to touch up on their make-up regularly. 'Bootleg' was a term used for illegal liquor, and 'speakeasies', or 'juice joints' were the clubs they sold bootleg at. 'Piffle', as in the title, used to be slang for something that was ridiculous . . . a lie, I guess. Similar to when we say 'oh, baloney!' or. . . bologna. . . but I think in that context it really is spelled 'baloney'.

A/N: So. . . what do you think?! I love feedback if you have some. 'Feedback' really is exactly what it sounds like. . .the power bar for fanfiction writers. I really like this story, and for the start to my first real Fire Emblem 7 fic, I guess I'm happy with it. I hope you do like it, too, so I'll have the motivation to continue! I'll try to answer any questions you have. Thank youfor reading! – Ri