Disclaimer: Nintendo owns all of the characters mentioned, except for Aurore. The game Timescope is fictional.
Chapter 1: Spar!
"Match 15: Fire Emblem's Roy!"
The redhead teen emerged from his team's dugout, hand curled over the crest of his sword. He took a final look back at his comrades, admiring Marth's smiling face, Ness' innocent smile, and Peach's cheers of encouragement. This was the semi-final match—win and go home with the trophy.
The crowd went berserk as he stepped into the battle arena. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs. This was where he belonged.
"Match 15, versus Aurore from Timescope!"
The din was deafening. Roy squinted. He had never heard of Timescope, or Aurore…
The aura of sparkles burst from the ground forty yards away from him. The first thing he saw was the head of a black staff, about five and a half feet off the ground. His vision shifted, and there was Aurore, in all her splendor.
She had long black hair that twined around the base of her brilliant staff. Her skirt was sable obsidian with belts looping around her arms and waist. She was a splash of black against an audience of light. And she was hot.
The buzzer sounded, beginning the battle. Roy waited for her to make the first move. She yelped, tapped her staff against the ground, and a shimmering pair of wings appeared as her staff shifted out of presence. She lifted herself into the air and threw her arms up.
The air around him seemed stuffed with darkness. He rolled out of the way as a hammer of black thunder crunched the ground where he once stood. She fluttered to a platform over his head, craning to see if he was engulfed or not.
He took his chance and leapt up, driving his blade through the platform with a fiery force. She cried out and swore. "Bitch!"
"That's bastard to you," he said, watching as she beat the flames from her skirt. She put her hands over her heart and yelped again. Her wings melted away, the snakes of shadow drooling up her arms. The melanoid forms shaped themselves into twin blades and she lunged.
Roy was faster. He grabbed her and threw her over the edge, feeling her blades drain away, shooting up to grab the ledge. She flipped over him, and fired a ball of black and his knees. The ball burst on contact, and curled up his arms, pinning them to his side.
She darted over to the teen, encased in her trap. "You're right. It was bastard."
His legs shot out from under him, flipping him over. She was kicked in the face as her shreds of darkness repaired to her side, giving her a long pole. She was disappointed. Not a single hit yet…
He was gone! Had he flipped over the edge?
"Surprise," he chortled, running through her with his sword. She poked at him with her pole, and oddly enough he tripped.
He sprang back up clumsily to parry with her. She spun away, undoing their blades, as her cloudy figures reformed a knife, which she thrust over her hip. She felt the air rush out of him, but she still wasn't quick enough.
He rolled off the dagger and continued to pummel her with his sword. Her onyx structures gave her wings, and she flew to safety. He once again came up from under her and she lie motionless on the ground.
He's too fast… I'm not going to make it…
She blacked out, and her cloudy shadows took control. They rose high above his head, and rained down black needles, regrouped, and smacked him in the face. He cried out and rocketed backwards as the balls retreated to their mistress. She awoke as they fanned her, and she pulled the droplets together, wound them tightly, and shot a beam of darkness at the boy as he stood again.
The usual light and pained scream sounded with the announcer. "GAME!"
The last thing she remembered was a huge shadow enveloping her, and then….
Nothing.
Roy's sword was digging into his side as he felt his consciousness came back to him. It felt strange… Marth had defeated him once, but his reinitializing took a few seconds. There wasn't supposed to be any numbness, either.
He was resting on a red velveteen carpet in the middle of a huge…ballroom?
It was dank, dark, and empty. Cobwebs were everywhere, the punch bowl was empty, and dust had settled on the buffet. A winding staircase spiraled to a hall of rooms on either side, and a huge set of double doors led to the kitchen. There appeared to be no way out, as the stained glass windows were a few feet thick.
He drew his sword, and walked around to the stairs. Suddenly, a white light burst forth from the top, and down tumbled his opponent. Her dark helpers were gone, and a trail of silvery blood was drizzled on her mouth. He kicked her away out of disgust; seeing that she was paralyzed just like he was, minutes ago.
"Huh?"
Her voice was thin, broken…
He regarded her as her muscles twitched, her body checking to ensure everything was stable. She was curvy, perfectly sculpted, like a marble statue done in warm flesh instead of cold marble. Her face was erotic, carved from pure beauty, shaped like something from his dreams. Her blue eyes opened and—
"You? The bastard?"
He shook his head. "Yes, the bastard."
"Why are you here?"
"I don't know. Don't use that tone of voice with me."
"I'll use whatever tone I want."
"Suit yourself." He began to climb the stairs as she dusted herself off. He heard her yelp, and them relished her expression as no balls of shadow came to her aid. "Great."
He explored the hallway. At the very end of it was a gigantic bedroom. He stepped inside cautiously, noticing the room didn't look as abandoned as the others. The bed was made, and two nightstands stood on either side of the king-size mattress, appliquéd with name cards. He walked over to one side, and froze.
His name was on the card.
The sight next to the card was bone chilling. There was a single Playboy Special Edition, with a raven-haired girl on the cover on the cover, dressed in black leather. His smirking face, complete with lusty eyes, was faded into the background.
The sound of feet broke his tension as Aurore rushed through the doorway. He thrust the magazine down. She looked scared. "The radio is playing."
"And?"
"Well-" She blushed, unable to summon the words for her fright. "It's weird…because we woke up in this house, and… the radio started…there isn't anyway out, so, like, um…"
"I know there isn't anyway out. You can't break the windows, you can't slice through the wood… we're stuck, okay?"
"Don't be such a hard-ass about it, alright? So what, I kicked your tail, we need to get out, okay? I have a team to report to."
"And I don't? This is my room. Find a duster and clean out a room far away from me."
"I already tried. The other doors are locked."
"Break them down."
"I could loosen the framework."
"I'll give you a blanket and you can sleep in the ballroom."
She looked at her feet and sighed. He crossed his arms and said defiantly, "You're scared."
"So? At least I'm honest with myself."
"How do you know if I'm honest with myself or not? You barely even know me. Look, I'm going to go sift through the kitchen. You're welcome to come, as long as you shut up. I'm sick of you talking to hear yourself."
"I'm just trying to tell you how I feel! God!"
"Well, I'm not listening. You're just an opponent."
She followed him out the room. He puzzled her, how she would be in awe of her conqueror while he spited them. He, in himself, was a complete enigma. He was nicely built, a few inches taller than her, with bright red hair and chunky sword-
"Whatcha looking at?!"
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought."
He went down the stairs and they both gasped. The ballroom was a spread of food, roiling with steam, pleasant aromas, and water. "Alright!" Roy exclaimed, descending on the food. Aurore was horrified.
Someone's planning this, I know it!
She wandered away from the food and through the double doors of the kitchens. She placed a palm on the empty griddle. Stone cold… The lights didn't work and the rest of the kitchens were cast in a shadowy chasm. She returned, seeing that Roy had stuffed himself, and a quarter of the blanket of desserts was gone.
He prodded her with a chicken wing. "Have some. It's really good."
She frowned at him, but took an apple fritter and bit of a chunk. It was delicious. Delectable. She set it aside and took up a treacle tart and dribbled it with peppermint sauce. She proceeded to eat to her hearts on content, until Roy opened a bottle of wine.
He sniffed it. "Never had wine before."
She threw down her quail egg and wiped her hands off, taking the bottle from him. "Valleys Circle Cabernet Sauvignon."
She took a swig. Roy waited on her reaction. She nodded and took another, testing it, eyebrow dipped in judgment. "A bit flat, but nicely bottled."
He sipped some, and spit it out, ruining a plate of butter creams. "Gross."
She took it back and had a long drink. "Mmm, feels good."
She plugged the cork back in, seeing that this was he only bottle. As she set it aside, an angry presence pervaded the room. She reached out towards Roy, but recoiled from his venomous glare.
"I'm bushed. See you."
"Where am I sleeping?!"
Her looked at her, seeing how scared and pitiful she looked. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. But you're sleeping on one side of the bed. And there's something you need to see."
He started for the stairs and she caught up with him. "I need to see? Like what?"
He wrenched open the door and picked up the magazine. She gasped, practically ripping it from his hands. "Oh my God!"
He looked over at hers, seeing that her name card was the only thing on the table. He took the magazine and said, "It's mine."
"Yours? You should burn it! That's filthy, rabid, disgusting… I'll burn it!"
He placed it on his nightstand. "I can't burn it. I don't know why. We don't have a fire place anyway."
She looked disturbed. He sighed and put it in a drawer. "I won't read it, okay? Can we get some sleep?"
He removed his cloak and armour and hopped into bed. She unbuckled her skirt and climbed in. He was propped up on his arm, looking at her with a sly smile. She frowned. "What?"
"Are you like the goddess of black? You should wear brighter colours. They'd bring out your eyes. Black is stale, anyhow."
She seemed ill at ease. "Um, I like black. I don't need you to tell me how to dress."
"Touché," he said, rolling over.
She the light clicked off by itself, and she shuddered, squirming to the middle. "This is so weird."
"What?"
She looked at him as though he hand slapped her. "What? What do you mean, what?! We have disappeared! Gone! In some strange house where food makes itself and…and…and porno everywhere! Is that normal to you?"
He put a hand on her bare shoulder. "Dude! Chill! I know it's weird, but we're exhausted. I'll admit it; you worked me hard in that battle. We need rest…to clear our heads. We'll look for a way out tomorrow."
She calmed herself down and closed her eyes. "Sorry. I just freaked out…and sleeping…with you is-"
"I am not sleeping with you. We, by circumstance, are in the same bed. No kinky stuff is going to happen."
He woke up with Aurore pressed against his boxers. A slithering sound announced that her tunic had slipped over the side of the bed, leaving her topless. She was pressed against him, arms curled under his arms. He smiled. She was even more angelic up close.
Her eyebrows were shaped and tailored to perfection, perched over porcelain eyelids. He brushed one and whispered, "Aurore." He shook her lightly. "Wake up."
Her eyes opened to slivers and she smiled, arms squeezing tighter around him. "It's so cold outside… and you're so warm."
He chuckled and pulled her closer. "I know," he said huskily. This was fun, playing games with the paranoid. "And you're so hot."
"Don't leave!"
Her hand curled around his side and onto the expanse of his bare chest, layered with muscle. Hot trails of pleasure tread in its wake. She sighed, eyes closing again. "You're so male…my man, my boy…Roy…"
Her eyes hot open. "Roy."
Gathering the sheets to cover her nudity, she sat up. Her black hair still held its diamond obsidian, and was still unnaturally straight. "I was… sleeping! And you-"
"Took advantage of you? Please. You took off your tunic."
"That's filthy…slimy, repulsing…"
He propped himself up again, hair drifting in her face. He put on a cocky smile, and Aurore shivered. That was so appealing. "Can't you be honest with yourself? You liked it. But of course, you can't. So we'll find to another room soon."
She scrambled into her tunic and buckled her skirt on as Roy reapplied his armour. She screwed a black tiara in her hair and shuddered. "Okay. You were…warm. But I was just cold!"
"'My man, my boy'?"
She crossed her arms. "Things happen when you're half asleep!"
"Damn straight. You think I'm hot."
"Bullshit."
He strode out the door and mumbled loud enough for her to hear, "Denial, stance one."
She beheld herself. He was so very male, and controlled. He had softened to her, she felt, but not nearly as much as he could. A hidden part of her wanted to go deeper, but she repressed these and walked out the door. "You think I'm sexy, too! C'mon, I know it!"
"Yeah, I do, matter of fact. People in black tend to be good in bed."
That wasn't the answer she expected. But it would do. "And you'd know? Are you a man-whore?"
"Nope! Virgin, proud of it. But I've seen videos."
"Freak."
"An honest, sexy freak."
She crossed her arms against and he smiled at her. She giggled. "Touché."
