This story is an attempt to explain why Nohr and Hoshido hate one another. Whilst this could be considered part of my 'Into the Darkness' continuity, it isn't written exclusively for it.
As this takes place long before the events of the game, there will be a tonne of OCs. Some of the names may be the same, but they are totally different characters.
I do not own Fire Emblem.
Castle Krakenburg. One hundred thirty years before 'The Valla Conflict'.
Court of King Florian IV of Nohr.
The new King shifted about on the throne, in a bid to get comfortable. He sighed softly, and rested his head on his hand, and looked at the small group now at the base of his throne.
At nineteen, he was far younger than many of his predecessors, his blonde hair kept in a somewhat feminine braid draped over one shoulder, his face clean shaven and his ceremonial armour shone in the brazier light. Brynhildr rested at his side. Florian kept his face as emotionless as he could as his Seneschal read a scroll to a crowd of Nobles.
The Capital had enjoyed nearly a century of rebuilding and growth under the reigns of three genuinely good and kind Kings. Castle Krakenburg had added to its great spire, placing a great beacon fire at its top. The Ice Tribe had sought sanctuary during the reign of his Grandfather, and had been granted land far south, in the mountainous regions near Cheve.
His mind drifted to his now deceased father. King Siegfried. The great man had been a peerless warrior, wielding the sword his own (somewhat mad) father had named him after. He had been a good father to him and his sisters, and despite their differences in skills, had encouraged him in his magical abilities, (even if he had tried to teach him some swordsmanship.) and had been genuinely proud the day Florian had taken up Brynhildr. He had married his daughters to the Grand Prince of Nestra and the Archduke of Izumo respectively, increasing ties to both Kingdoms (even if Nestra was technically an elective monarchy and effectively ruled by its many, many merchant Princes).
Sadly, death came to claim him early. At the age of forty, King Siegfried of Nohr died. It wasn't battle or combat that had claimed Siegfried however. An illness took a hold of him, causing him to die a slow, agonising death wasting away into nothing.
That had been a mere month ago.
Now here he was, unable to mourn yet expected to run a country. Expected to protect its peoples, provide for them and guide them.
Happily for him, the links his forefathers had created had weathered the transition
Links to Nestra had grown dramatically in the last few months, increasing trade between the two proud nations, Nestorian produce had eased the pain of the current food shortage, the army had started to learn Nestorian techniques, and a number of joint building projects had been started up between them both, Nohrian minerals and stones would help build Nestorian style structures. Florian himself had become engaged to one of the daughters of a Nestorian merchant Prince, one that owned a spectacularly large manse on the coast.
The relations with the various noble families had grown too. Many had turned to trade rather than fighting amongst themselves over scraps, and those that hadn't had been shunned until they had joined them.
That's not to say that they'd dismissed their armies completely, of course. Nohr had always prided itself on personal strength, and even the King was unwilling to let go of such a cornerstone of its culture.
Relations with Hoshido had…..soured somewhat, however. Bandits basing themselves out of the neighbouring Kingdom had repeatedly raided their supply lines, and the Hoshidian King, a spoiled brat in his early twenties, had been less than helpful in assisting in stopping them.
Which had led to the current trouble. Whilst they hadn't outright assisted the bandits, Hoshido had denied access to Nohrian authorities, and even held a small group of soldiers' hostage after they strayed too close to the border.
"—ivate Chilliens, lowborn. Private Jalov, lowborn. Sergeant Kendells, minor noble..." Seneschal Brann droned on. He was a high born Noble, but by virtue of being a third born son, he was unlikely to inherit anything at all. Florian's father, King Siegfried, had taken him on in his last few years to ease the burden of rule. The man was in his late twenties, and had a pair of gold eyeglasses rested on his beak-like nose.
"Forgive me, Seneschal. I fail to see the point in reading out the names of people we are already aware need rescuing. We need not bring the court down with news of our continuing failure." Florian spoke in a careful, authoritative tone. "What exactly is Hoshido demanding?"
"More than the worth of the men, to be frank, Your Majesty." Brann said, his tone respectful, yet still carrying his years of experience. "They demand choice trade routes. They demand we lower import tax for our goods to them. They do go on a little, I'm afraid."
"They often do. Our dear neighbours do enjoy their….shall we say ...'Flowery' language." Florian jested. It earned the laugh he had needed. He was, admittedly, feeling a tad out of his depth, so lightening the mood a little, even if it was just pure sycophancy, eased his mind a little. "Regardless. I will not allow our countrymen to be held in the hands of a foreign power that is not one of our official allies. Send a message to the Hoshidian King and the Archduke of Izumo. Tell them we are willing to negotiate, but will only do so face-to-face. Inform them we will be bringing only a token force of soldiers for our own protection, and will only attack if provoked."
"Is that wise, Good King?" A noble from somewhere in the crowd. Florian wasn't certain of his name, but was fairly certain he was from somewhere close to the mountains, due to the fur lining his shoulderguards. "Izumo is close to Hoshido. It would be easy for them to sneak soldiers in, or even for Izumo to ally with Hoshido! If we go, it could be all too easy for us to become trapped."
"True enough. But let me ask you something my lords..." The King said, standing up slowly, and striding into the centre of court. "Who are we?"
This earned him no shortage of blank looks.
"Who. Are. We?" He repeated in a calm voice.
"Your Majesty." One of the Border Lords spoke up, in a concerned tone. "I'm afraid we don't qui—"
"We are Nohrian!" Florian shouted, his arms thrown wide. "We pride ourselves on self-improvement via conflict and hardship. If we are trapped, is that not a form of hardship? Will those hostages not return better for the experience?! I ask you, my Lords, WHO ARE WE?"
"NOHRIAN!" A number of Lords, mainly those on the borders, yelled with gusto.
"Will you deny yourselves glory? Will you not join me in freeing our brave, dutiful soldiers?"
"GLORY! GLORY!" More Lords joined in now.
"And will we show Hoshido what happens when you fuck with Nohr?!"
"YES YOUR MAJESTY!" Every Lord and Lady added their voices to the growing cacophony, all voices melding into one single voice. The voice of Nohr itself.
"WHO ARE WE?!"
"NOHR! NOHR! NOHR!" The chanting of his people shook the windows.
"WE ARE NOHR!" The King bellowed, to the sound of thundering applause. "AND WE TAKE WHAT WE NEED!"
Florian's voice had finally gave out, but it didn't matter. His point had been made and heard. The Lords, his Lords, would aid him now. He prayed it was enough.
If not, he may well be remembered as the mad King who led his Kingdom to ruin.