Author's Note: Here's a little fic with our two favorite creepy mages. Have a happy Valentine's Day!

Tharja woke to an abnormally cold bed. Silently grumbling at the chill, she rolled over, expecting to feel another body beside her own. Instead all she came into contact with was more empty mattress.

Confusion ignited a gentle spark of alertness. Opening her heavy eyes, she examined the bed next to her. Among the disheveled blankets lay a note, its whiteness bright on the black sheets. She picked up the small parchment and strained her eyes to read it in the dim lighting.

The playful slants and loops indicated that it was indeed her husband's handwriting.

Tharja,

I'll be gone when you wake up, so I decided to leave you this note. I have to go a shop early in the next town to buy some supplies for a hex. You know what they say; the early crow gets the juiciest, bloodiest worm! Nya ha ha!

Tharja sighed. Of course he would write down his own laughter. The next town was fairly far away and, since she wasn't sure when he had left, there was no way for her to tell when he would be back. She might as well start her work without him.

After reluctantly leaving her bed she quickly dressed herself and had a quick, light breakfast. Then she retreated into the basement where her lab of sorts was located.

Several tables and bookshelves lined the room. Materials ranging from minerals to herbs covered nearly every surface of the room. Many thick tomes, often with notes scrawled in the margins, lay wide open in various places. A cauldron hung over a pile of timber in the corner, kept well away from anything flammable.

To most others this would seem to be a sinister, eerie place. For Tharja and Henry, however, it was a wonderful workplace. The dark mages reveled in the slightly dank basement where the smell of both successful and failed curses always lingered.

Tharja lit several candles on the walls to bring the place out of its near complete darkness. Even with the warm flames there were still plenty of corners and niches cast in shadow; just the way she liked it.

She walked over to one of the tables and started flipping through a worn book. Her eyes skimmed over the pages as she gathered information on a curse she had wanted to attempt. Unfortunately she didn't have all the supplies for that particular one—it required the heart of a large black bear—and had to focus her attention on another one. She couldn't be bothered to put in the effort to hunt down the organ.

A couple of hours passed as she worked on perfecting the hex. The spell was nearly complete when a cheerful voice rang out from the doorway.

"Honey, I' m home!"

Rolling her eyes at the cliché, Tharja began to reply as she turned around. "Took you long—" She stopped in her tracks, taken aback by Henry's appearance.

Despite Henry's ever present smile, a small gash marred his left cheek. His clothes were spotted with dirt stains and a tiny twig was caught in his ruffled white hair.

"What the hell did you do?!" She demanded. Angry worry boiled within her as she stepped over to him. "Your letter said you were going to the shop!"

"I lied," he bluntly responded. "Sorry!"

"I don't care about that now, idiot." She plucked the twig out of his hair and crossly tossed it aside. She lightly gripped his chin to turn his head and gain a better view of the cut. The wound seemed fairly shallow and had already scabbed over.

"I'm fine, see? It's just a small ouchie, unfortunately."

"Hmph. So what were you doing then?" Tharja released him and crossed her arms.

Henry held out a small wooden box to her in response. She hadn't noticed him carrying it since she had been too focused on his wellbeing.

"Do you know what today is?" He asked.

"…it's Saturday," she said slowly, unsure where he was going with this.

"Well, yeah, but it's not just any Saturday." He insisted.

She sighed irritably. "Just tell me what it is already."

"Alrighty. For the past couple of years there's been a new trend for a holiday going around. I heard about it a couple months ago when I was hanging around with Ricken. I decided to do it too since I love you to death. Amazing, bloody death."

A rush of warmth blossomed in Tharja's chest. It seemed that no matter how many times he proclaimed his feelings she would never get used to them. The extremely dark words that she once found so creepy now sounded oddly endearing.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" With that Henry handed the box to her.

"A present?" She asked with a hint of surprise.

"Mhm. Go on, open it."

She slowly lifted up the lid. Inside was something wrapped up in a soaked red cloth. Immediately the coppery scent of blood emerged into the air. Luckily her senses were far too used to the smell to be affected by it.

After carefully unwrapping the cloth halfway she realized what the object was. A heart. A recently deceased creature's heart.

"Ta da! I went out to search for a bear since I knew you needed a heart. I found a huge one in the forest nearby. He was really sick and about to die anyway so I gave him the beautiful gift of death. It would have been a CAW-tastrophe to let him die from an illness."

"I can't believe you went to all that trouble for me," she commented softly.

"Oh, it wasn't any trouble at all. It was actually really fun watching all the blood spray out like a pretty fountain when I cut into his chest! Of course, though, I mainly did it to make you happy. You're as cute as a dead puppy when you smile."

Tharja hadn't even realized that her lips had started to curve upward, creating a soft smile on her normally scowling face. She didn't bother to stop it as she wrapped the organ back up and closed the box.

"Thank you, Henry," she genuinely said. "I don't have any gifts prepared for you, but I will keep this tradition in mind for next year."

"Aw, you don't have to do that. Being with you is enough for me," he responded.

Tharja set down the case on a nearby table before turning back to Henry. "Now, as much as I love you, I'm not letting you help me work until you're clean. Come on."

Henry's grin widened. Very rarely did she speak her feelings; today was a special day indeed. As he walked up the stairs beside her he wrapped an arm around her waist. Without a word she briefly leaned into him, lowering her guard for the person who had taken her own dark heart.