Aching Blood, Trembling Heart
A Fire Emblem Fates Story
Chapter One
His Story
Odin reclined his chair back on two legs, his focus on the tome he was studying. Wisps of magic prickled around his fingers as he idly wiggled them, his arm held aloft. He often did this when he was bored or concentrating. He imagined it made him look mysterious, contemplative, and not to mention really cool. He didn't flinch when Laslow, his childhood friend, entered the room, grumbling sourly, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched close to his face. Laslow continued to mutter under his breath as he grabbed a chair and seated himself backward in it at the table.
"Another rejection for Laslow of the Azure Skies?" Odin said in a bored tone, not even looking up from his reading.
"Bite me," said Laslow, his chin resting on the back of the chair, his eyes closed in a cross expression.
"Oof, such a harsh retort," Odin said, dropping the front two legs of his chair back onto the floor with a thunk. He closed his book and ceased his conjuring, turning to Laslow. "Clearly you've been bitten by a certain red-headed viper we know."
Laslow raised an eyebrow. "You mean Selena, right? Don't let her hear you calling her that."
Odin chuckled in his throat. "I'm quite capable of dodging her wrath. You, however, my friend, have been in her sights repeatedly of late."
"Ugh, I know," Laslow said, folding his arms on the back of the chair and moving his chin atop them. "I don't know what her problem is."
"What was it this time? Slacking off cleaning duties?"
"It's my day off, thank-you-very-much," Laslow said, shooting Odin a dirty look. "And Selena seems to think she can dictate how I spend my free time. The nerve!"
"Ah," Odin said, returning to his book and leaning back in his chair again, "she caught you fraternizing in the marketplace again, didn't she?"
"She butted in right when that cute blonde was about to agree to tea with me," Laslow said, his eyebrows furrowed in disgust. "'Better stay away from this one, honey,' she says. 'He's a first-class pervert.'"
Odin snorted and cracked a grin but said nothing, his fingers playing with magic again.
"And then!" Laslow said, tamping his fist on the table. "And then she has the nerve to demand I help her carry home the shopping she'd done for the mess hall! She insults me and then makes me carry her groceries!"
"Technically, it's the army's groceries," Odin quipped, turning a page in his tome.
"Whatever!" Laslow snarled, sitting up in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. He hunched his shoulders. "I tell you, I have half a mind to tell her she looks less than radiant today."
"That'll show her," Odin said, his eyes half-lidded to match his bored tone.
Laslow leered at the mage. "You're being exceptionally unsupportive today."
Odin sighed. "That's because I've heard this complaint over and over again. Every day. For weeks now. Like a never-ending nightmare of repetition, gnawing at my sanity. If the two of you would just kiss and get it over with, I'd finally get some peace."
Laslow's face flushed a deep red. "Wh...What exactly are you implying?" he demanded, standing abruptly.
"You've fancied her since we were children," Odin said matter-of-factly, still paying more attention to his book than Laslow. "You always seem more wounded when Selena rejects you more than any other woman. And despite all your complaining, you still do everything she asks of you. You should stop all the games and just tell her how you feel."
Laslow opened and closed his mouth a few times, his face scarlet. Folding his arms again, he glowered at Odin. "And since when are you such a fountain of love advice?"
Odin grinned, flicking his wrist, the magic around his fingers disappearing in a puff of smoke. He touched two fingers to his forehead, his hand partially obscuring his face. "I'm merely offering my services as a casual observer. Whether you choose to be a man about your feelings is up to you."
Laslow's eyes narrowed, and he snorted. "Hmpf. That's rich, coming from you, a guy who hasn't even realized he's in love with Lady Corrin."
The back two legs of Odin's chair slid beneath him, and he toppled backward, clattering on the floor. With much flailing, he fought to wrestle his head from beneath his cape, which had flipped over his front in the fall. He emerged, blushing intensely, his face drawn into a scowl. "Falsehoods! You have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Oh don't I?" Laslow said tauntingly, relishing the upper hand he had claimed. "I guess I've imagined all the times you've followed her around, stalked her in the shadows, pestered her with your wild stories. Except, wait, no—that's happened almost every day since we joined her group."
Odin sat cross-legged on the floor, his hands on each knee, his blush darkening. "Well of course I've been following her! The whole reason we were sent here was so we could protect her!"
"Ohh, you want to do a lot more than just protect her," Laslow teased, his eyebrows dancing playfully as a snide grin stretched across his face. "Don't think I haven't noticed you've been 'conveniently,'" he made air quotes with his hands, "showing up at the mess hall at the same time as her every meal. Or how just last week you ditched training with me to assist her with her shopping."
"I was merely upholding my duty as a chosen one of the gods," Odin grumbled, his ears turning red to match his face.
"Mm-hmm," Laslow said, taking a few steps toward Odin. "And I suppose that fond expression on your face when you stare at her when you think no one's looking is apart of your 'duty,' too, eh?"
Odin closed his eyes and said nothing, his blush turning shades of burgundy.
Laslow squatted in front of the man, put a hand on Odin's shoulder, and grinned. "Owain, my friend. Those are the actions of a man who is smitten."
Odin met Laslow's eyes, frowning, his cheeks radiating heat. Laslow's grin broadened, and Odin snorted in disgust. "I have somewhere to be now," he said, brushing Laslow's hand from his shoulder and climbing to his feet. "The armory got a new shipment of weapons today that need my naming expertise."
"Uh-huh," Laslow said, standing and turning as Odin brushed past him. "And the fact that Lady Corrin is overseeing the delivery and inventory is irrelevant, right?"
Odin walked into the door frame, slamming his face against the wood. Whirling around, he pointed at Laslow, his face red from the impact with the wall. "I was not aware of this fact!" he shouted accusingly before dashing out of the room, his cape whirling behind him.
This, of course, was a lie.
He knew it was a lie, even as he tried to deny it to himself. To be certain, the allure of fresh, unnamed weapons set Odin's heart ablaze, but even that flame paled in comparison to the elation he felt at the thought of seeing her. He had memorized Corrin's schedule through careful observation, and he knew at that moment she would most likely be in the armory. At first, he had done this strictly out of obligation; when a dragon god asks you to protect his daughter, you of course take the assignment seriously. It had annoyed him that Laslow and Selena seemed to have forgotten this important mission, so between his errands for Lord Leo, he had taken it upon himself to ensure her constant safety. This had led to many instances where he was certain he had annoyed the woman, judging by the way she started to deviate her schedule in order to avoid him. (Her feeble attempts at elusion were no match for his tracking skills, however.) Despite that, as the weeks went by, the two of them had struck up a sort of amicable discourse, to the point that he started looking forward to his encounters with her.
Odin walked briskly across the yard, making his way toward the armory, still agitated at his exchange with Laslow. One of his assertions was false, though: Odin had realized his feelings for Corrin, though it was admittedly only very recently. The fact that it was obvious to Laslow annoyed him. His pace slowed to a stop, and he stared at the ground, his cape fluttering against the back of his knees from the sudden halt. He sighed. Annoying or no, it didn't change the fact that he was correct.
The first time she genuinely smiled at him, a surge struck his chest that he had never experienced before. This elation, this slow, encompassing burn...the pang hit him unexpectedly and sent his mind reeling. "Cute." The word leapt instantly to the top of his mind. Her smile, it was cute. Odin had never really thought much about girls in his life, mostly because he never had the luxury of time to do so. Unlike Laslow, who made the time to accommodate his hormones, Odin had wholly occupied himself with training to avenge his fallen parents and devising sweet attack names. When the Fell Dragon had finally met its end, he imagined he might finally have some time to relax, maybe focus on a romance of some sort, only for he and his companions to be whisked away on another adventure. He, of course, took this mission to heart, and he had endeavored during his time in Nohr to get as close to his objective as he could.
He hadn't intended to fall in love with his objective, though.
"Perhaps I shouldn't go to the armory after all," Odin said to himself. He held his chin in thought. "If Laslow has noticed my latent affections, then it's possible others may have as well." He skewed his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed. "I have to maintain my aura of darkness...being seen as a lovesick puppy just doesn't sound cool." He nodded. "Right. Odin Dark shall resist his urges, no matter how powerful they may be!"
He sanctioned this decision with a triumphant pose, his fists planted on his hips. Leo, who happened to be walking by, a book in hand, glanced up at his retainer's outburst. Raising an eyebrow, he decided it was better not to ask, and, returning to his book, strolled past.
Odin walked along with new purpose. If he wasn't headed for the armory, what should he do instead? Perhaps he could find Niles and see if he would spar with him. Zapping Niles with magic usually put him in a good mood, though he had to admit, the arrows Niles fired back did sting, even if they were the non-lethal training ones. He could always take a stroll and see if anyone was interested in one of his tales of grand battles with darkness, or test out that new spell he had been reading about, or…
Something in his periphery caught his attention and he glanced up. He was standing in front of the armory.
"Curse my feet!" he said, clutching at his chest. "They've taken me to my heart's desire against my will!" He stared at the door to the armory. "Well...since I'm here, I could just stop in and check out the new sword shipment...No, no, no, Odin," he said, briskly shaking his head. "Temptation is the vice of weaker men. Just turn around and walk away." He paused, staring at the door. "Any time now. Just, move your feet." He remained in place, the doorknob enticing him. His cheeks pinkened a little. "Ah, screw it," he said, grabbing the doorknob.
The door to the armory creaked open, and Odin poked his head inside. Weapons gathered together in crates and barrels lined the walls, armor of various types stacked in front of them. Several boxes of arrows stacked on top of each other flanked the doorway, and the whole room had a musky smell of metal and wood. He inhaled deeply; the aroma of the armory always intoxicated him. It reminded him of the Shepherd's garrison back home. Brushing this thought away, he crossed the room, where he had spotted Corrin seated at a table beside a large stack of boxes, her back facing the doorway. Hunched over her paperwork, scribbling away, she looked very focused. Even this, he thought, was a bit adorable.
Hearing footsteps, Corrin turned, and her face brightened. "Oh, Odin! Good, I'm glad you're here, I could use your help," she said, brushing her hair out of her face.
"R-Really?" Odin said, blushing. "Well then, Odin Dark is at your service, milady!"
"I was hoping you couldn't resist a new weapons shipment," Corrin said, smiling coyly as she stood and stroked a hand on the topmost box in the stack beside the table. Lifting the lid, she retrieved a paper from inside before closing the box again and hefting it. She turned and handed the box to Odin, placing the paper on top. "If you could, would you check these with the invoice to make sure everything is accounted for?" She winked. "And, of course, you're free to name whatever you like."
Odin nodded, trying his best not to be embarrassed. She really was impossibly cute. Not to mention a woman handing him a box of weapons and asking him to name them was probably the subject of one of his wet dreams once. "You can count on me," he said.
"I know I can," Corrin said with a grin. "Thank-you so much for your help." She turned away from him, returning to her budgeting at the table.
Odin gently placed the box on the floor and sat down cross-legged beside it with the list. 'Right then,' he thought, removing the lid and setting it aside. 'Which of you shall be blessed with my Burning Lexicon of Nomenclature first?' He dug through the straw used as cushioning in the box, selected a dagger, and weighed it in his hand, frowning. 'Throwing dagger...seems to be of steel in make...no doubt this shall pierce the heart of many a foe in the future. So what shall your title be…?'
Movement caught his eye, and he glanced up as Corrin shifted her position on her stool. He stared at the back of her head for a moment, grinning absently. She certainly was focused. If only she would show that level of focus on him…
'Dammit, Owain, stop daydreaming,' he thought, forcing his attention back to the blade in his hand. 'Dagger, dagger…' He held the blade tip and bobbed it a few times, his mind a complete blank. '...Daggers are no fun to name anyway, so I'll circle back to it,' he decided, setting the weapon aside. Rummaging in the box, he found the hilt of a sword and retrieved it from beneath the hay. 'Now we're talking! That light weight, that sleek sheen, that expert craftsmanship...this is a blade worthy of my former sword hand! Naming you should be easy!' He studied the blade, trying to get a feel of its essence.
Corrin propped an elbow on the table and leaned her face on her palm, her quill scratches filling the silence. Odin noticed this movement as well, and he stared at her again, fantasizing about how nice it would be to rest his own hand on that gentle cheek. He lifted his arm as if to imitate doing so, and the sword in his hand came with it. Frowning at it, he set it aside with the dagger. 'Perhaps inspiration will strike me for you later. Now then, what else is in here…?'
Thirty minutes later, the entire contents of the box had joined the pile at his side, every last weapon on the invoice accounted for, but nameless. Defeated, Odin rested his forehead on the edge of the box. 'This is hopeless. I can't exercise my power as name giver with her sitting there being so...adorable.' He sighed and climbed to his feet. 'I'll just tell her I'm out of sorts and just give her back the invoice. Gods, I feel so useless…'
Approaching Corrin at the table, Odin cleared his throat and spoke. "Um, Lady Corrin?"
She startled, her quill scribbling what she'd been writing, and she whirled around to him, her face surprised. "O-Odin!" She clutched at her chest. "Dear gods, I actually forgot you were in here with me. Usually you're very chatty while you work, but you were so quiet that it just slipped my mind."
"My apologies," Odin said. "Both for startling you, and, well…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
Corrin tilted her head. "Something wrong? Was something missing from the invoice?"
"No, no, it's all there," Odin said, handing her the paper. "It's just…" He sighed. "I'm afraid my gods-granted talent for naming has abandoned me today. Try though I might, I was unable to divine a single name for our newest equipment." He hung his head. "I stand before you, a failure."
Corrin smiled sympathetically and sighed. "Well then, we're a pair of failures today, it seems."
"Hm?" he said, looking up. "What do you mean?"
Corrin turned aside to showcase her table, where dozens of papers littered the workspace, calculations scribbled and scratched out all over them. "I've been trying to balance the convoy's budget today, and it just isn't adding up right. I've probably done the math at least six times now, and it just keeps coming out wrong." She rubbed her forehead and sighed again. "I've been staring at these numbers for so long that I honestly think I'm going cross-eyed."
"Perhaps a fresh pair of eyes could be what you're needing," Odin said, stepping closer to the table. "I wouldn't mind checking over it for you."
"Be my guest," Corrin said, sliding the master list toward him and her latest failed attempt at balancing. "If you come up with the same answer, then I'm just going to have to accept we overpaid for something."
Odin studied the page covered in Corrin's neat handwriting. He held his chin, quietly working over her computations in his head.
"...Are you all right, Odin?"
He turned to find her leaning her face on her palm, staring at him. "I, um, of course, milady," he said.
"You seem like something's bothering you," Corrin said, frowning. "And no, I don't mean that," she said when he looked at the page of calculations and back at her. "Like I said, I forgot you were here because you're usually an endless fountain of energy when you help me out; you almost always have a new story to tell me. But today you've been unusually quiet. Is something on your mind?"
The word, "you," leapt to the top of his throat, where he caught it and swallowed it back down. "Odin Dark is flattered that you would spare concern on his part, Lady Corrin," he said, "but I can assure you that you needn't trouble yourself with my lowly worries."
"Well that's just nonsense," Corrin said, sitting up and frowning more seriously at him. "You and I are friends after all, right? Of course I should care if something is bothering you."
He stared at her, stunned and embarrassed. Turning back to the budget work to hide his blushing, Odin grinned slightly. "You truly are too kind, Lady Corrin."
"All right, out with it," Corrin said, crossing her arms. "Is Leo being lazy again and giving you tasks he could just as easily do himself? Or did Niles say something hurtful?"
Odin laughed. "Lady Corrin, please, it's nothing of that sort. Though I do appreciate that you consider yourself my ally." He stared at the table for a moment before looking at her again. "No, I'm afraid I'm simply just easily distracted of late. The umbral callings of the darkness are louder than usual, tearing my attentions from the..." He trailed off as he turned to her and found she was leering at him, an eyebrow raised. "...Uh, right, sorry, skip to the point. Spoken simply, I just have a lot on my mind, the same as anyone else."
Corrin raised her eyebrows in sympathy. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, just know I don't mind listening." She looked at the table, her expression downcast. "Unless you're not comfortable talking with me, that is."
"No no, not at all!" said Odin, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He smiled a bit, looking down as stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. "In truth, I've been more comfortable conversing with you than anyone else lately…" He paused, and then, realizing what he was doing, let go abruptly and scratched at the back of his head.
Corrin smiled at him, her cheeks rosy. "Well, good. Because I've actually been enjoying our talks lately. They brighten my day."
"R-Really?" Odin gasped, turning to her. "You...You're not just mocking me, are you?"
"Of course not," Corrin said with a laugh. "I genuinely mean it." Her face sank a little. "Everything that's been happening with this war, all the day to day business of running the army, how everyone looks to me to be their leader…" She sighed. "It all really weighs heavily on me most days. But," she brightened a little, "whenever you come around to tell me one of your stories or to just have a chat with me, I always end up feeling a little lighter." She blushed suddenly and turned away. "S-Sorry, I don't mean to make you feel awkward or anything."
"Not at all," Odin said, shaking his head. "Hearing that my tales of heroism can alleviate your wearied soul brings joy to my heart." He paused a moment and frowned. "To be honest, I'm just relieved to hear you don't find me annoying like everyone else does."
Corrin giggled. "Maaaybe at first," she said, winking at him. "But you're the sort of person that grows on people."
He smiled at her. Gods, he loved her. He could feel his heart throbbing against his ribs. Perhaps...Perhaps now, with the current mood...Could he tell her? Should he tell her? Did he have the right? After all, he had lost his Brand, the proof of his royal lineage, when he came to Nohr. He was just a retainer, beholden to her adoptive brother. His link to House Ylisse meant nothing in this world. She was a princess, after all. Maybe the rest of the camp would disapprove of his courtship of her.
"Um, Odin?" Corrin said after a long pause in which he had been staring at her, grinning in a daze.
"Yes, Lady Corrin?"
"Are you, uh...going to look at the budget?"
Odin fumbled back to reality and shuffled a few pages to busy himself. "Uh, right, sorry," he said, picking up a page in front of him.
"No, it's my fault for distracting you," said Corrin, shaking her head.
After a few minutes of studying the paper in silence, Odin frowned, picked up a quill suddenly, and started scribbling.
"Find something?" Corrin said, her voice hopeful.
"I think...yes, that's the issue," Odin said, his hand jotting down quick calculations. He turned to her. "You kept accidentally missing a number in your totaling," he said, indicating the error to her on the page. "With the absent numeral properly applied, you have a balanced budget."
Corrin gasped and clasped his hand. "Oh my gods. You have no idea how much stress you just saved me! Odin, I could kiss you."
They both looked up at each other for a moment before the pair of them blushed simultaneously.
"No wait, that came out wrong!" Corrin said, immediately releasing his hand and waving her hands in a panic. "I-I didn't mean I want to kiss you! That would be bad…Wait no, that's worse!" she gasped, covering her eyes with a hand. "What I mean is, kissing you wouldn't be bad, but wait no, that's even worse, and I'm just going to stop talking now and die right here, okay?" She buried her head in her arms on the table.
Momentarily stunned, Odin's brain rebooted, and he let out a snort before bursting into laughter. "I-It's okay, I think I understand what you meant."
Corrin sat up and put her face in her hands. "Gods, that was so embarrassing, I'm so sorry," she said. She turned to him. "Thanks for being so good-natured about it." She put her hands in her lap. "So...the shipment was all accounted for?"
"Right, uh," Odin said, turning to the box on the floor, where he had left the pile of weaponry. "I'll just...put those away for you."
"I'd appreciate that," Corrin said with a laugh.
Odin crossed the short distance and leaned down to pick up a sword from the pile. Frowning, he stood straight and examined the weapon more closely. "Actually...perhaps you might need to make a return," he said as he gave the sword a few practice swings.
"Hm?"
Instinctively, Odin crouched in his sword stance and cut through the air with liquid precision, stopping occasionally to turn the sword over in his hand and frown at it. Unsatisfied, he balanced the blade on two fingers and noted the uneven tilt. "This one most definitely falls below my standard of approval," he said. "The off-balance makes it feel all wrong in the hand."
"I didn't know you knew so much about swords," Corrin said, surprised.
"I'm versed in all forms of weaponry, milady," Odin said, turning the blade over in his hand a few more times. "Such is necessary in order to properly name them. However, suffice to say, outside of my natural proclivity of magic, the sword is a personal favorite of mine." He placed a hand on his hip and pointed the sword at the floor. "Prior to discovering my propensity for the dark arts, I was quite the accomplished swordsman."
"Really now?" Corrin said, intrigued. "I'll have to have a practice match with you sometime, then."
Odin squinched his face at her and winked. "I would think there's no blade in camp that could compete with your legendary Yato, Lady Corrin."
"We'd use practice swords, you dork," Corrin said, laughing.
He smiled, enjoying the sound of her laugh. A thought struck him, and Odin brightened. "Actually, that reminds me of a story," he said, shifting into his usual demeanor. "Have I ever told you about the time I went in search a legendary sword?"
"No, I don't think so," Corrin said, smiling. "Did you find it?"
"Well...yes and no," he said, swishing the faulty blade around for fun. "I did find a blade, but...In my hubris, I falsely assumed it was the infamous one I was seeking."
Corrin giggled and leaned back against the table. "That sounds about right."
"However!" Odin said, pointing the blade at her for dramatic effect. "The journey is far more important than the destination! The tale of how I sought after the sword is what's truly important."
She smiled warmly at him. "Well then, where do we begin?"
Odin beamed, heartened by her genuine interest. "In a bandit-infested village, on the brink of destruction…" He paused, resting the front of the blade in his other palm. "...Actually," he said, taking a few steps toward her, "before I begin, I was wondering if I could...talk to you about something that's been on my mind."
"Of course," Corrin said, straightening on her stool. "I said I'd listen, didn't I?"
Odin nodded, his face flooding with color. "Right...so, the thing is…" He tapped the sword in his palm a few times to calm his nerves. Inhaling, he stared firmly at her. "Lady Corrin, I—"
The door of the armory banged open, alarming both of them, and they turned as Selena entered the room shouting, "Hey, Corrin, you in here?"
"Selena!" Corrin protested, holding her chest. "Dear gods, do you know how to knock?"
"Yeah yeah, whatever," Selena said dismissively. She noticed Odin and scoffed. "Odin! Are you bothering Corrin again?"
Odin winced. "Well, you know me…"
Selena rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Jeez, you would think you were attached at her hip or something."
"Did you need something, Selena?" Corrin asked.
"Yeah, the cooking schedule for the mess hall," said Selena. "Some idiot threw away the one that was hanging in there, and no one can remember who's supposed to cook dinner."
Corrin sighed and hung her head. "Ugh...All right, I'll go make a new copy from the master schedule in my quarters," she said, standing.
Selena nodded. "Thanks, Corrin. Just bring it by the mess hall when you're done. And you," she said, rounding on Odin, who flinched, "behave yourself. Don't cause trouble for Lady Corrin."
"Not even in my darkest of dreams would I fathom to," said Odin, frowning at her.
Selena snorted an approval and then swiveled around to the door, running a hand through one of her long pigtails as she left the armory.
Corrin followed after her and shut the door, adjusting one of the towers of arrow boxes the door had collided with upon Selena's entry. "Selena certainly knows how to make an entrance," she said, sighing. She turned to him. "Sorry, you were sayi—Odin, your hand is bleeding!"
"Ah, yeah," Odin said, holding up his left hand, which had a small gash across the palm that was dripping blood on the floor. "My hand slipped when Selena came in," he said, indicating the sword in his other hand.
"Come on, we need to find a healer," Corrin said, crossing swiftly to him.
"No no, it's fine," Odin insisted, setting the defective sword on the table and clenching his bleeding hand. "I'm sure it will stop on its own."
"Don't be ridiculous," Corrin said, taking his non-injured hand and dragging him behind her. "It could get infected if you leave it like that."
"A-All right, if you insist," he said, blushing as she gripped his hand more tightly. He followed her out of the armory and across the lawn, his bleeding hand held behind him. Her hand fit so perfectly in his palm; he couldn't help but relish the moment, even though his injured hand was throbbing, the pain a feeble distraction. It wasn't until he noticed two people watching them, whispering to one another as they passed, that he regained his senses "L-Lady Corrin, there's no need to lead me by the hand. You can let go."
She turned to him and smiled lightly. "And risk you running off on me?" she asked, winking. "I'll take my chances and hang on tight."
"Odin Dark would never run!" he protested, incensed at the mere notion of such cowardice. "He is a bastion of courage! His aching blood demands it!"
Corrin laughed, squeezing his hand affectionately. "Well, right now your aching blood is dripping all over the lawn." She paused for a bit and then sighed. "I guess after this I'll need to go back to my room and make a new copy for the mess hall." She stopped and turned to him. Blushing, she smiled at him. "I don't suppose you'd want to keep me company? Copying's pretty boring work, so I'd appreciate a story or two."
Odin gaped at her for a moment before recovering. "Then who am I to deny a request from a draconic maiden such as yourself?" he said, grinning broadly.
Corrin giggled, and then her face shifted. "And...you'll tell me what's been bothering you?" she added, an anxious tone in her voice.
Odin gripped her hand more tightly, taking a step toward her. He looked into her eyes, and in a tender, quiet voice, he said, "You have my word."
This was the right thing to say, because she smiled so sweetly at him that he was certain his heart would explode from the elation he felt. He returned a similar smile, throwing all his misgivings aside. He was going to tell her. The thought of waiting any longer was a fate worse than any dark manifestation he could conjure.
Bonus ending:
"I'm actually interested in this legendary sword story of yours," Corrin said as they strolled toward the private quarters on the other side of the camp. She giggled to herself. "I'm sure it's full of twists and turns, knowing you."
"It is indeed!" Odin said excitedly, keeping pace with her. "Unscrupulous bandits, a cadre of mages in distress, reunions of kinsmen—truly it is a tale for the ages!"
She beamed at him. "Well then, I can't wait to hear it," Corrin said, her eyes narrowing affectionately.
They continued on together, chatting merrily, Odin feeling much more like his usual self. Ahead of them, he noticed Laslow leaning against the front wall of the mess hall. The two noticed each other simultaneously, and a sly grin curved on Laslow's lips as he nodded in their direction. His head darted from Corrin back to Odin in an exaggerated movement, and Laslow gave him a thumbs-up, his smile devious.
Annoyed, Odin ignored him and turned back to Corrin, retaking his conversation without missing a beat. Once they had passed by Laslow, Odin held out his arm in such a way that Laslow could see it but Corrin could not, and held up his middle finger.