"Frederick, that's the fifth time today someone's acted strangely towards me."

Nowi marched past the opened Barracks, smiling and winking. "It's okay to be yourself, Chrom! Times have changed in the one thousand years I've been around!" She disappeared around a corner, where Gregor patted her shoulder and gave her a thumbs up.

Chrom shook his head again. "Make it the sixth."

"Ah, sire. May I perhaps ask you to sit down?" True to his nature of servitude, Frederick offered the tired lord a chair. Thanking him, Chrom sat. The barracks were uncharacteristically silent, as if the army had been specially ordered to keep out for the day. Chrom was too bothered by his recent encounters with his unusual Shepherds to notice the change. After neatening a few loose parchments out of habit, Frederick coughed and prepared his little speech.

"Milord, as your caretaker and friend, it has come to my attention that…well, this is to say…ergo…googly eyes." Perhaps he should have practiced it more.

Chrom blinked. "Frederick, did one of Ricken's spells scramble your brains?"

"Forgive me, sire. A topic of such intimacy is rather awkward to discuss with you."

"Intimacy? Frederick, you do realize it's Lissa that you should be discussing the wyverns and the bees with, right?" he teased.

Not picking up on the joke, Frederick barreled on. "You misunderstand me, sire. It has come to the attention of a large number of our soldiers that you and Robin might…"

"It's not like you to trail off so much, Frederick," Chrom said without realizing that he had actually just cut him off. "I'm sure you'll feel better if you just say what's on your mind."

"I had prepared a speech for this encounter, but I am afraid the words have failed me."

Chrom smiled. Frederick was always quite the planner. Reaching over, he gave the ruffled knight a few short pats. "It's fine. Just say it." Taking deep breathes, Frederick nodded, ready to deliver his ultimatum. How ironic that his lord was supporting him at this particular hour of need!

"Sire, we all support your decision to be with Robin."

"Ah, so that was al—wait, what?" His face turned bright red, and his tongue convulsed into a series of knots. Frederick couldn't be suggesting what Chrom was automatically assuming! "Define 'be with'?"

"Forgive me, but I do not believe we included comprehensive reading like dictionaries in our army's supply, except for tomes. So I cannot."

"Frederick, do you mean 'be with' as in marriage?"

"Marriage? Are you two planning that already? Then you have my full accolades."

Chrom's words twisted and spurted into different directions. "Wah…no! Me and Robin…he's just our tactician! There's nothing going on between me and Robin!"

Now it was Frederick's turn to be confused. "But milord, you two are always staring off into one another's eyes. What other conclusion was I to garner from this?"

"No, we don't!" Chrom insisted in fierce denial.

"Are you quite certain, milord? The entire time we've been in the barracks, you've been eying that gratuitous propaganda poster I drew up of Robin, ever since you tore down the fruits of my last effort."

Chrom unwillingly tore his eyes from the (most enthusiastically detailed) poster and shuddered, briefly remembering the last poster fiasco. At least this rendition of Robin was mostly clothed. "Look, Frederick, I appreciate your concern, but you've mistaken my actions for something wholly separate. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have six other Shepherds to talk sense into."

"I see. Apologies for the misunderstanding. And milord?"

Chrom turned around, one foot already out the door. "Yes?"

"You can always adopt."

AN) Based on the prompt "Imagine your OTP constantly making dopey eyes at each other but always denying it whenever someone calls them out" from OTP Prompts on Tumblr. I should write more dialogue based prompts...