He stood at the very edge of the crowd, near the front, by the wall. He was denied permission to see her, and rushed out of the room, mistaken by the maids for a common soldier.

The grand doors to the throne room swung open in a wide slow arc. Trumpets began to blare as the crowd began to cheer. He strained to see her over the waving hands and bobbing heads, but all was naught.

Azura stood by the Valla throne, smiling peacefully. She held a red velvet cushion, on which the Valla crown sat atop. The crown itself was slender and emitted regality, the light glinting off its gold sheen and inset diamonds.

Corrin glided down the aisle, her white dress flowing behind her like water. Laslow gasped at the sight of her: her snowy white hair was tucked into a braided bun, with two long strands gently framing her heart-shaped face; the fabric of her dress was light and airy, as her skirt billowed behind her yet hugged her waist, accentuating her slender form; she was decorated in silver and studded azure gems that sparkled with the faintest of movements. Taking on an ethereal glow, she seemed an otherworldly being.

The crowd erupted in hollers and cheers as the crown was placed atop her head. They chanted for their queen, for new hopes and new dreams. Corrin seemed serene, almost wise, eyes half-lidded with the kindest of smiles gracing her lips. As she turned, their eyes locked briefly and she nodded in his direction. He gulped and nervously waved back, swearing up and down he was about to pass in that moment.


The celebration hall was filled to the brim. Laslow stood by Xander's side as his retainer, arms tucked behind him in a dignified manner, or so he thought. Peri had long since wandered off in search for sweetstuffs.

"Laslow, would it not be more fitting to stand by your wife-to-be's side?" Xander inquired, shifting from his left foot to his right.

"Nonsense, Milord. It would not do for a retainer to abandon his liege," he smoothly replied. He glanced in her direction however, searching for her visage in the throng of people. It seemed she'd be preoccupied for hours to come.

"I doubt we will find enemies here, Laslow. Tonight's a night of celebration. I think Corrin will be glad to have you at her side." He nudged him in her direction, knocking him off his center of balance.

"No offense, Milord, but I have not exactly dressed for the occasion." He gestured at his outfit, dressed in his usual armor to protect his lord; although, for the occasion, the emblem of Nohr was visible on his chest plate and his armor was polished to a sheen. His cape was even replaced with the emblem of Nohr stitched to the back. "I do not think it'd befit me to act so familiarly with the Queen of Valla."

Xander snorted at his response. "Do you think my sister would feel shame standing beside her comrade-in-arms? Much less her husband-to-be? Stand tall, Laslow. She'd be glad for your presence. She was worried when you hadn't shown before the start of the ceremony."

"About that: it seemed I was mistaken for one of the guards-"

"That is exactly what I had meant, Laslow. Straighten your posture, seem confident. You must have seemed a bumbling soldier than the future king of Valla," Xander chastised.

"K-king?" Laslow stiffened at the thought. King? True, in technicality, he would become king through his marriage with Corrin. But it was hardly a thought he paid any mind to before.

"That's right. Although I'm sure most of the work will fall to Corrin, it'd behoove you to act the part, as your behavior will reflect on her and the kingdom itself." Xander squared his shoulders, straightening his back, seeming more intimidating than before. "Both Corrin and I have faith in you. So stand tall, Laslow."

He gulped. "Yes sir."


"Laslow!" She ran into his arms straightaway, embracing him tightly. Her ringlets of hair fell and coiled around her. When they parted, she asked, "Where were you?"

"Sorry about that, love. It seemed I was mistaken for one of the guards and shooed out as soon as I came in."

"I thought it was strange when I found you in the crowd. You should have sought out Felicia or Jakob. Or one of my siblings. I have eight of them, you know." She laughed, latching onto his arm.

"Your siblings are quite intimidating, I must say. I could have sworn I felt murderous intent when we announced our engagement. Although, given my... reputation, I'm not exactly surprised." Indeed, Lady Camilla sent him the nastiest glare as soon as Corrin turned away. She gave him a fright later that night, as she cornered him and promised bloody murder should he ever betray Corrin.

"Give it some time. You're a good man, Laslow, and important to me. I'm sure they'll come around," she assured, lightly patting his arm. "Oh, but I really wished we'd met before the ceremony. I wanted your thoughts on announcing our marriage today.

"Perhaps it'd be too much to grandly announce it, on top of the crowning ceremony, but I'd like to have introduced you. Or at least, tell the rest of our friends," she continued, fiddling with the chain of her necklace. Hanging on it was the ring Laslow proposed to her with. She kept it hidden from plain sight, as they kept the news of their engagement to family and close friends. "Which reminds me, I hadn't seen you at all during the celebratory party." She frowned, forehead creasing.

"I apologize for that too, my dear. You seemed preoccupied. I felt it wasn't my place to interrupt," he admitted, casting his glance aside. A familiar burning sensation crept up his neck.

"Nonsense! I would have loved to have you there."

"I'm not much of a public speaker, you know. I would have embarrassed the both of us." He laughed curtly, sighing after.

"I'd never be embarrassed of you, Laslow, for such a reason. Only for certain behaviors that gets you into bar fights... and arrested," she teased, playfully bumping into him.

"Aha, my princess's memory sure is sharp." He nudged her back, eliciting a giggle.

"Come, Laslow, have faith in yourself. If not, have faith in me. We're partners, remember?" She leaned in for a kiss. He happily reciprocated.

"Of course, I do."

"Then there's no need for worry. Laslow, I know you prefer solving things on your own, but," after a moment, "you can rely on me too."

"Thank you, love, you've always been my better half." She laughed, bringing him close.

"Really? I've always thought it was you."


"Three cheers on behalf of our good friend, Inigo!"

"Shut up, numbskull!" Selena swiftly jabbed Odin in the side, causing him to sputter and spill a bit of his raised drink.

"What's the problem? It's not as if anyone's around to hear," he grumbled, rubbing his side painfully.

"Hear, hear, I say we three good friends should celebrate to our hearts content!" Laslow raised his own held drink. The moon reflected against the liquid's surface clearly.

It was a something of a routine between the three of them: find a spot a good distance away from the others and drink their fill, while chatting about old memories or some-such. Here, they were three friends with a connected past.

"To think ol' Inigo would ever get married. A miracle of the Gods, some would say."

"I'm quite the charmer, I'll have you know."

Selena scoffed, crossing her arms. "There's nothing 'charming' about you. You're a pain in the ass... but, congrats... Inigo."

"Ah, there it is once more. Your tongue is as sharp as ever. But thank you, Severa." He winked, taking a swig of his mug.

A silence fell over the trio.

"So, this is it?" Odin began, staring into the lamp's light that sat in the middle of the three.

"Yup," Selena answered curtly. "This is it." She gulped down the rest of the contents in her cup. "Pour me another."

"No chance you'll reconsider then?" Odin asked tentatively.

"... No," she answered after a moment. Her expression softened, the lamp's fire reflecting in her eyes. "I made my decision a long time ago." She worried the ring on her finger, twisting it every which way.

"You'll pave a new life for yourself then."

"That's the plan." She laughed shortly, throwing her hair back. "So, what about you, Inigo?" She leaned back, crossing her ankles. "Can't exactly take home the queen," she stated breezily.

Laslow stared into the lamp's fire, watching the flame flicker and burn within its confines. If he squinted, he could see the faintest image of a bright and shining halidom. Or maybe it was the alcohol slowly taking effect. "You're right, I can't," he stated simply. He shifted, lifting his knees, crossing his arms over them. "But I can't just leave without her either."

"I take that as your answer then?"

"Sorry, Owain, but it looks like you're on your own. What'll you do without us," he tried to joke, but his voice fell flat.

"Ah, foiled once again by the throes of love!" Odin threw his hands in the air. "When will this disease stay its hand?"

Laslow chuckled at the display. Selena rolled her eyes, though cracked a smile despite herself.

"Oh, which reminds me." Laslow dug into pockets, nodding at Selena. "Letters, for our families."

"Here." They handed Odin the slightly crumbled envelopes. With trembling fingers, he took them, mulling over the surface. Selena's swooping cursive decorated the surface in clean black ink. Laslow's print was neat, matching exactly as their instructor had taught them.

"Worry not, comrades. I, Odin Dark, shall deliver these forthwith!" He carefully stashed them away.

"Thanks, Owain."

"No problem, S-sev." His voice cracked on the less syllable, as he rested his forehead into the crook of his palm. Teeth clenched, his body momentarily quivered.

"Hey, cut it out. We said no tears, dummy," Selena scolded halfheartedly, inching closer.

"I-I agreed to no such contract," Odin sputtered.

Laslow shot forward, embracing the two, bringing them closer. "We'll always remember you, Owain." He bit his lip, burying his head between, a lone tear falling.

"Shit. I think I'm going to cry."


Early morning, when the dew still clung to the grass, they parted.


Sometimes, Laslow simply stared at the sky. He watched as the soft, billowy forms of the clouds rolled by, almost lazily. He wondered how his family was, how his friends were. And he wondered if they thought the same of him.

He heard his name being called. There she was, as he twisted to meet her. Her hair was done up, courtesy of Camilla, a single purple ribbon intertwined in her braids. The skirt of her dress billowed in the wind. Her eyes twinkled with mirth, like the rubies they took after. The lapis lazuli set within her ring reflected light for the briefest of moments. No shoes, as always, he noted.

"You'll cut your heel again," he commented, as she struggled to push down her skirt.

"It's fine." She wiggled her toes as if to prove her point. "I'm made of tougher stuff than that."

He chuckled and hummed in agreement.

"Well, I suppose I should formally greet your siblings and re-introduce myself as a new member of the family."

"Can't wait." She held out her arm, linking it with his.

The two head back for the small chapel, nestled into the greenery of the mountainside. Glancing at the sky, he smiled, closing his eyes in farewell.


A/N: I love Laslow. I love Inigo. I bought fefates just to marry him again ngl.

I haven't shared anything in a loooong time. But I don't think there's enough Laslow fics out there so here I am contributing.

Part 2 will be up in the next few days I think.