Why, hello. So it seems that the title of my fictional piece has captivated your interest enough to make you click on it, as I'm sure my summary wasn't the thing that motivated you. A forewarning to you, the title has absolutely nothing to do with the story. I was simply looking for a word that would make readers such as yourselves interested in my story, and if you are reading this, then my plan has worked. That said, I have to admit something about my summary, or lack of a real one. The reason being is that I really don't have any idea where this is going other than it will eventually be IkexMarth. The "things happen" part as mentioned in the summary is pretty much non-existent and has yet to be thought of. If my writing is lacking or anything at all is lacking, I apologize in advance as this is my first time writing.

For those that are curious, "circean" is an adjective derived from "Circe", the enchantress who turned Odysseus's men into swine. That said, "circean" can be loosely defined as something akin to dangerous beauty.

Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Anything.

CHAPTER 1

Marth could not believe his foul luck. It was bad enough that the only other brawler form his "universe", as everybody called it, was a mercenary and that said mercenary had already done more than one deed to piss off the prince, but this, this was unacceptable. Absolute blasphemy. A cruel joke.

Let's rewind…

So, this morning, Marth woke up and started his day like every other, with small menial tasks pertaining to his personal hygiene. But even before he woke up, he knew it wasn't going to be a good day. Two days prior, he had been informed that a welcoming party for the newest brawlers of Super Smash Bros. would take place today. (Marth had always thought the "Super" was rather egoistical, but who was he to question?)

Anyway, even as a child Marth had disliked attending these types of social events. It wasn't because he was anti-social, it was just that they often lacked a sincere quality. When he had to attend such parties in his childhood, he would witness people praising others of their latest accomplishment. But people always undermined the observant prowess of a young, educated noble. Marth could always tell when the smiles were fake, when the good wishes were insincere. Deep down, aristocrats all hated each other. That's just how things were.

The point is, Marth hated these functions and hated having to pretend that he cared. To be perfectly honest, there was little benefit Marth would gain from this welcoming party. Sure he would be able to see them and perhaps make some educated judgment regarding their combat abilities, but he knew better than anyone that outward appearance was hardly an appropriate determiner of skill. People often thought him weak and fragile upon seeing his feminine figure and Marth would inevitably prove them wrong on some level.

Well, the welcoming party wasn't going anywhere and Marth wasn't allowed to evade it. But it wasn't to take place until evening, so Marth was free to do as he pleased in the morning. And so, he decided to train.

Having been in this strange, new world for over a year now, Marth had still not discovered any new hobbies aside from training and reading. Things like "driving" an oddly-shaped box on four wheels or playing basketball or watching television were still much too foreign for him to enjoy. He preferred the more traditional ways of passing time, despite Fox's constant nagging about how he was too "historic" and that he needed to "evolutionalize", whatever that meant. That, and Fox was adamant that Marth "embrace technology". As far as Marth was concerned, "technology" was neither human nor animal, not even a stuffed toy! How he supposed to embrace something like that was beyond his comprehension.

In any case, talk about Fox and technology could wait for a later date. Marth needed to train. He was intent on practicing his form rather than speed and movement, so he had booked a traditional style dojo room to work on what he needed. Even though many people have told him his form was impeccable, he always believed there was room for improvement.

The point is, Marth booked, therefore reserved, a room.

So when he opened said reserved room and found it occupied he was truly perplexed. It was an unspoken rule between brawlers that they would never take someone else's training room without permission. The moment Marth laid eyes on the intruder he had a feeling creep within him. And it was no good feeling. The ruffled sapphire hair, rough expression, muscular build and brute strength all told Marth that this man was basically his polar opposite.

Seeing as how the unfamiliar man failed to notice Marth's entry, Marth decided to knock lightly on the door. As he anticipated, the sound alerted the stranger's attention. The man turned around and…wait. Was Marth seeing things right? Did that guy just give him some creepy grin?

Marth watched the man lower his sword. Had he not been so distracted by the grin, he would have been able to put a name to the sword. The man sauntered over all too egoistically. Just as Marth was about to explain to him the matter of trespassing into his room, the other spoke first.

"Hello beautiful. Never thought such a fine lady like yourself would be in a competition like this."

Whoa! What? Lady? Seriously?

Okay. So yes, Marth was a bit on the feminine side when it came to body build but not every feminine-looking person is female and not every masculine-looking person is male. It was completely unreasonable for this man to automatically assume he was female. Sure people have had questions about his gender before, but at least they tried to make sure of their suspicions before they said anything that could offend the prince. This man had no sense of that.

"You look angry," the stranger observed. "Oh, I must've taken your training room, huh? Sorry, didn't mean to."

Marth was still processing the mistaken gender issue and the subsequent flirtatious behavior from the man so he was unable to form any type of proper reply.

"Aw, don't keep making that face. It's not cute. Come on, I'll make it up to you next time we meet, alright beautiful? Well, I'll see you around." Slinging his sword onto his shoulder, he brushed past Marth casually.

Marth was about to turn around and give some sort of witty reply that would clarify his gender and leave the man in stupor, but when he turned around to deliver his wisdom the unfamiliar face was already out of sight. Marth wasn't too happy with this. There was a big idiot out there who thinks he's a woman. Damn if he doesn't fix this misconception soon. But dwelling on the matter wasn't going to help his situation so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on what he came here to do.

Evening came much too quickly for Marth's liking. Before he knew it, he was dragging his feet back to his room to shower in preparation for the event. After cleansing himself and silently cursing at Master Hand for making attendance mandatory, Marth finally trudged his way to the dining hall. As soon as he entered the hall, he heard his name being called. Looking in the direction of the voice, he spotted Princess Peach frantically waving at him, with Link and Zelda beside her. Although he liked Peach very much, she was too much of a social butterfly and Marth wasn't too keen about being overly friendly to everybody today. He sighed. Curse him for being a good friend.

"Glad to see you decided to show up," Link commented, fully aware of Marth's dislike for these social gatherings and always half-expected him to bail out.

"I don't believe I had a choice," Marth replied dryly.

Link merely smirked at his friend's obvious lack of enjoyment. Not that he wanted to be here either, but… Nada. Nothing reasonable came up to finish that sentence and Link understood all too well Marth's unwillingness to be here.

Peach noticed her friend's lack of excitement and decided to comment, "Aww, come on, Marth. You should be looking forward to this. I hear one of the newcomers this year is from your universe."

Marth rolled his eyes at the mention of "universe". There it was again. He was unsure why, but everybody here was adamant that he came from the Fire Emblem universe. The idea was simply barbaric. Marth was no stupid man. In fact, he was a highly educated individual. He has had nothing but the best of teachers teach him all that he knows now and not once did any of them mention they lived in a universe called Fire Emblem. He knew something existed called the fire emblem, but he was sure their universe wasn't named after it. Anyhow, Marth had learned it was best to let them say what they want. He had once tried to convince them that that wasn't the case but his efforts were futile.

"I hear he's also quite handsome," Zelda added, smiling at Peach with a look of understanding that Marth never did understand.

Marth decided now was a good time to stop listening. There was no doubt in his mind that they would start giggling and gushing about this apparently-handsome man's looks even though they've never seen him before. He looked around and finally noticed something out of place. "Where's Mario?"

"He went…" Link paused to think of where Peach's lover went, "…I don't know where he went. He came to the hall with me so he should be in here somewhere."

Marth didn't have any reason to look for Mario, but he scanned the room for the short man and his signature red hat. It gave him something to do. Before he could finish looking for Mario, the lights dimmed and welcomed them all to tonight's event. Marth briefly noted that the voice was the same as the one who yelled, "3, 2, 1, GO!" and "GAME!" before and after a brawl. And like those incidences, it was merely a voice; there was no visible concrete being that may be attributed to the voice.

"For our first newcomer, please welcome Pit, from Kid Icarus!" the voice boomed loudly.

A young man with spikey brown hair and a neat garland on his head walked on stage. He wore a white outfit and owned a set of beautiful white wings. And it was no mystery to anybody that Pit was an angel. What intrigued Marth was Pit's weapon. Personally, he never imagined angels to be the type to wield weapons. So if they did wield weapons, what would their ideal choice be? His attention was focused on the double-ended blade that Pit carried. With a quick move, Pit split the two ends and formed two short swords instead. How interesting. Whether the sword was hitched together or not, Marth speculated that Pit was a close combat fighter, like himself.

"Next, we have Wario!"

This brawler, unlike the previously mentioned Pit, Marth was not too fond of. Just looking at the way he dressed: blue t-shirt, torn jean jacket, fuchsia pants, and a pink belt, Marth knew he was a rowdy fellow. Disregarding the horrible fashion statement, the short man also bore the ugliest mustache Marth had ever seen. Also, the way he entered the stage on a motorbike told Marth the stout man was far from being a civil individual. (Marth didn't take much time to consider how the man managed to get permission to ride a motorbike into the dining hall, especially since the gas emission heavily polluted the air, according to a conversation Marth overheard between Donkey Kong and Captain Falcon. In all honesty, Marth wasn't sure what "pollution" was, but he did know that he did not like the smell of burning gasoline. At least, that's what Falco told him these things run on.)

"From Fire Emblem, please give a warm applause for Sir Ike of the Greil Mercenaries!"

Marth's eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets. This was the guy who mistook him for a woman in the training room. And he was a mercenary! Cornelius, Marth's father, had once told him that mercenaries were not good people and should never be trusted. And since then, nothing ever came along to disprove that, so Marth had always believed that to be true. So, considering this morning's incident and added to that the fact that this man was a mercenary, Marth's impression of Ike was anything but good.

He overheard Peach and Zelda talking in whispered voices about Ike's good looks before he had a chance to really assess the man. And just as Peach and Zelda had predicted, this man was not lacking in the handsome department. But that was not what Marth cared about. Ike's strength was irrefutable; it was evident in the way he held his sword. If Marth recalled correctly, this golden sword Ike wielded was none other than the divine blade, Ragnell, meant to be wielded with two hands. Seeing Ike effortlessly bring Ragnell from below his waist to atop his shoulders with one hand, Marth knew Ike was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

"Next, let's welcome the speed demon, Sonic the Hedgehog!"

If Marth had thought he was fast compared to his fellow brawlers, he would have to reconsider. Sonic possessed a fast that wasn't humanly possible. Having already been introduced to Kirby and Pikachu when he first got here, the fact that Sonic was a hedgehog hardly fazed him. But Sonic's speed did faze him. And although Marth had no idea what Sonic's attack methods are or how strong his attack power was, it would still be hard to win against something moving that fast.

After Sonic, seven more brawlers were introduced before The Voice finally announced that dinner may be served. And thank goodness too. If Marth had to sit and listen to introductions any longer, he was going to personally pick an apricot tree and survive on the nutrients provided by the fruit for the night. He glanced around the room after the lights went on and noticed the dining hall was now filled with tables and chairs that weren't previously there. This was a mystery Marth would never understand. Every time an event was held in the dining room, the hall would always be empty when everyone first arrived. Then, the lights would inevitably turn off for some type of welcoming speech by either Master Hand, Crazy Hand, or The Voice. After, the lights would turn back on and voila! Tables and chairs. All set with tablecloth and dinnerware too. Whenever Marth tried to ask anybody about how it worked, they always avoided the subject as if it were a great sin to speak of it.

Just as Marth and the other were about to take a seat at one of the miraculously-appearing tables, a voice stopped them in their advance.

"Good evening, ladies. It must be my lucky day to be able to dine with three beautiful women tonight." Ike bowed lightly, "I'm Ike." (And yes, Link was completely disregarded here. Marth and Link noticed, but Peach and Zelda did not.)

Link gave Marth a look that asked "did he just say three?" and to that Marth could only grace Link with a cold glare. Zelda and Peach would have picked up on the miscount if they weren't so busy admiring the man up close.

Peach extended her hand and greeted, "I'm Peach, princess of the Mushroom Kingdom."

Like a gentleman, Ike took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it.

"Zelda, princess of Hyrule Kingdom," Zelda introduced, with just a little less enthusiasm than Peach.

After doing the same to Zelda what he did to Peach, Ike turned to Marth expectantly. Marth nearly smirked. Ike was in for a shock. Without extending his hand, he spoke, "Marth, prince of Altea."

Ike's eyes widened for a split second before his face turned into a wide grin that was reminiscent of the one he gave Marth earlier today. Before Marth could protest, Ike grabbed Marth's hand and planted a kiss on the back like he did with Peach and Zelda. "Nice to meet you, princess."

If it wasn't criminal to kill out of hatred and equally unsightly for a prince to show such rash behavior, Marth would have put Falchion to Ike's throat. This man was deliberately trying to piss him off and that just did not sit well with Marth.

"Would you care to dine with us, Ike?" Peach invited cordially.

Either Peach had not heard or she chose to ignore Ike's insult. Either way, Marth could hardly fathom the idea of eating with this man. How could Peach be so oblivious to the injustice bestowed upon him by this insolent fool? And where was Mario? Shouldn't he keep better tabs on his woman? Surely he wouldn't be okay with Ike eating dinner with them. Whether or not Mario was here to stop Peach, Marth was not about to sit and eat with Ike. So before Ike could give a reply to Peach, Marth courteously excused himself from the group.

Link followed Marth, realizing that he was not about to get any attention from the two women here or even from Ike, not that he wanted any from Ike. They took a seat and Link decided to start up some conversation, "So you don't seem too fond of Ike."

"Really? Was I that obvious?" Marth answered.

Link couldn't tell if Marth was being sarcastic or not so he just shrugged his shoulders. "Guess the guy's a bit arrogant."

"A bit?"

"Okay, maybe a lot. But we only just met him. Maybe he's actually a nice guy."

"Mercenaries from my," he paused here wondering if he should use the word, "…universe, are not nice people."

"What if you've been misled?"

"Why are you defending him?"

Link shrugged, "Something to do?"

Marth sighed, "Whatever. Let's not talk about him."

Link shrugged. He didn't care about what their topic of conversation was, as long as he wasn't bored, he was fine. And since Ike spent his dinner with the ladies, Marth had a rather nice dinner also. Given that neither man really enjoyed having to stay here any longer than was necessary, Marth and Link both decided to retire to their separate rooms after they finished their meal.

Marth could see his room at the end of the hallway. However, as he was approaching it, he couldn't help but feel as if something was out of place, something was different about it. And even as he got closer and closer, he could not pinpoint what was not right. Until, he reached the door and he saw it. On the wall to the right of the door there were two nameplates. One said "MARTH", and that was normal. That had always been there. What was not there this morning that was here now was the second nameplate.

It read: IKE

This had got to be a cruel joke.

END CHAPTER 1

And there you have it, my first chapter of my first piece of fanfiction. If you think anyone is outrageously out of character and would like me to fix it, please let me know and I will try to fix it.

If you have something nice to say, please review.

If you have some advice to give, please lend me your wisdom.

If you have bad things to say, please do your worst.

If you have nothing to say, thank you for reading.