Italics indicate thinking


NO POV

Tharja walked down the street, pulling her cloak tightly around her voluptuous body. She'd grown used to doing this at this point, she was not going to change her unique style, but that also didn't mean she was giving free looks to every creep on her daily walk to and from the castle. There had been times Tharja had cursed her endowments, but she also appreciated them, they allowed her to do all sorts of fun manipulative curses.

"Grr." She grumbled a bit opening the door to her abode, kicking off her heels and hanging her cloak up "It's…too quiet."

Tharja walked around the house and noticed, for the twelfth day in a row there was no one here, not her daughter who'd recently moved home, and not her husband either.

"They're still out training that Nohrian girl." She sighed looking at her crystal ball.

Part of her thought about breaking out the contact ritual but if they were in the middle of something she wouldn't want to interrupt.

"Haa." She sighed a bit as she sat on the bed, removing her circlet before starting to slide her gloves off.

For the longest time she loved the silence of an empty house, but those were back in her Plegian army days, ever since she joined the Shepherds and Ylissien army the commotion in her life had picked up and she found it strangely calming, she still preferred to be alone, that part of her would never leave but she had found a new acceptance here, not to mention staying here had allowed her more observation of Robin though she found her interest had waned over the last year.

She sighed a bit again and slid her stockings down her long legs before slipping into something to relax around the house in, it was late part of her wanted to go work on curses and all other kinds of dark arts in her basement laboratory but part of her just wanted to lay by the fire and relax.

In the end she wound up making coffee and just sitting in front of her fire place, looking deeply into the flames.

"Gods…what happened to my life." She thought back on her experiences "Sitting around a fireplace like some lonely housewife, even worse…I am some lonely housewife."

Tharja looked at a small painting on the mantle, it had her looking as grumbly as ever with that scowl, boy she used to scowl a lot, but next to her was Frederick, serious to a fault as she always thought though in this picture he looked pleased.

When they first met they hated each other, always bickering, he was convinced she was a spy but in the end they wound up back to back in too many battles, he blocked enough arrows with his shield to keep her body from becoming a voodoo doll like pincushion. At first when he began doting on her, courting her, she wished to have been that pincushion.

But in the end she found something oddly alluring about the man, and love interested her as well. For years she despised love she found it gross, vile and illogical but now, she found herself a slave to it.

"How times change." She took a sip from her mug "I suppose people change."

Tharja felt an ache in her heart when she looked at the portrait. The loneliness that had embraced her like a warm blanket for so long, was now smothering her.

"When that idiot gets home I'm gonna slap him." She got up to wash her mug "Making me this miserable."

She put her hands on the side of her sink and sighed.

"Haa!" she growled and let out an annoyed scream "I just…I just…I just want to kiss him."


AN

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