Hello!

Sorry for the ridiculous delay between chapters. From now on, I'll try to update this more regularly. Also, I was really surprised at how much support this fic got from just one chapter! Special thanks to Pk-smash-attack for a fave and a follow, Ludroth for a follow, Tjfanfics99 for a fave and a follow, Darkstar709 for a fave and a follow, and finally, Gunlord500 for my first review!

Onwards!

Chapter 2

The rythmic tapping of hammers on nails was the only sound in the chill dawn air. White flakes of snow swirled around the pair walking towards the Feroxi palace. Grey clouds obscured the sun, leaving only a pallid glow.

Sylvia shivered, and huddled closer to Flavia, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked. She was grateful for the warmth. Flavia smiled. "Cold, dear?"

"Yeah." Sylvia responded, smiling slightly. "Still not used to these Feroxi winters, I suppose."

The blonde nodded in agreement. "We haven't actually had much chance to live here together, have we?"

"No, the most I've seen of this place is when I was with the Shepherds, trying to get your help for facing Plegia." Sylvia smiled with nostalgia.

"Heh." Flavia laughed at the memory. "I remember when you walked into my arena. I'd never seen anyone fight so gracefully."

"Oh, come on!" The white-haired tactician protested. "I was still a novice then- especially compared to my skill now."

Flavia laughed. "You have improved quite a lot. I've never seen anything like the courage you showed facing Grima."

Sylvia still scowled at the memory of the dark dragon.

"Sorry." Flavia amended. "Still a sore subject?"

"A bit." Sylvia replied, her eyes downcast.

"Cheer up a bit." Flavia grinned. "We have a palace to look forward to!"

They pushed open the double doors of the Feroxi palace and stepped in. There was barely any warmth, even when the doors closed. Sylvia looked around. This was not the grand hall she remembered. The once-grand gold ornaments were gone, leaving pale scars standing out on the wall. The red walls were faded and scratched. The once-plush red carpet was downtrodden by hundreds of heavy footsteps.

"Wha...?" Sylvia stared.

"Bandits!" Flavia spat. "As soon as my army was gone to fight Grima, they raided my palace! My palace!" She sighed, gloomily looking around at the bare walls. "Even the paintings..."

Flavia felt a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

Sylvia asked. The Khan leant her head onto her fiancee's shoulder. "Yeah... I'll get some people in tomorrow. We'll get this place looking better than before!"

They both smiled at the thought of how the palace was going to look. Sylvia suddenly sighed.

"For now... I guess we'll have to hope that the bedroom is in decent condition."

They climbed the stairs, both looking at the places where ornaments and grand paintings used to be. Stepping into the bedroom, they both sighed.

It was not as intact as they had hoped. The walls were just as scratched and scarred, the floors just as ruined. Even the bed itself had been stripped of the expensive fabrics, and the Valmese mahogany of the frame had chunks hacked off clumsily with battle-axes.

"My palace..." Flavia lamented.

Sylvia dragged the ruined mess that used to be the bed frame to one side, revealing the undamaged, plush carpet beneath. She looked over at Flavia a little awkwardly.

"It's not much, I know, but... It'll do for tonight."

"Of course. See, that's why you're the tactical genius." They shared a small laugh. Flavia began stripping off her armour, laying it carefully next to the ruined bed. Sylvia pulled the twin scabbards from her back, placing them next to her fiancee's armour. They lay on the soft carpet.

"Not actually as uncomfortable as I thought." Sylvia mused.

"It is my palace." Flavia smiled. "Only the best quality." They huddled close together on the section of carpet that was actually comfortable. Sylvia pulled off her tactician's coat and wrapped them both in it like a blanket. They were pressed together, arms tightly around each other to ward off the bitter, stinging cold.

"Not quite the homecoming you expected, huh?" Flavia whispered. Sylvia giggled slightly. "It's not the homecoming I expected either."

"Wait... Didn't you come to your palace at any time in the year I was gone?" The white-haired tactician asked, eyes wide and curious.

"No. I spent that entire year with Chrom and his searching parties after you..." Flavia broke off. "I only went to Arena Ferox because it was a formality and I had to. Lucky I did."

"Yes it was. Or my lovely, romantic gesture there would have been wasted." Sylvia teased. Flavia laughed a little, then kissed her. The tactician could feel her fiancee's lips pressed to her own, the softness of this warrior's skin surprising her for the thousandth time. Sylvia's hand gently rested on Flavia's smooth cheek, holding her lips to her own, prolonging the feeling of her. Slowly, as the tactician slipped into sleep, her head came to a rest on Flavia's shoulder. The Khan pulled her tactician closer to herself as her eyes closed too.

They awoke still entwined in each other's arms. Still shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, they disentangled themselves from each other. Sylvia groggily pulled on her long tactician's coat. Out of pure habit, and with sleep still giving a slight haze to her judgement, she reached for her swords. She paused and tried to force the tiredness from her mind. With bags under their eyes, they headed down the ruined staircase.

Almost instantly, Flavia went to a messenger that was waiting by the side of the throne as normal- as if nothing had happened at all.

"Send this message throughout the kingdom." She ordered, her old royal self again. "I want all the finest stonemasons and carpenters in the land here at my palace. I want all of our trade ships on ventures to Valm and Plegia for stone and mahogany. Tell them I want my palace looking as grand as it was before!"

The messenger bowed and scurried off. Flavia turned to her throne- it was the most intact part of the building. Some of the gold had been torn off in ragged chunks, but the throne still seemed largely intact.

"Sorry, dear." Flavia apologised, turning to Sylvia with a sheepish smile. "We'll have to get you a throne made."

Sylvia smiled. "I'm not sure I could own something so grand..."

"Nonsense!" Flavia gave a dismissive wave. "You are my fiancee, soon to be the Khan of Regna Ferox. You deserve some luxury." She pointed at a servant. "You! Deliver a message- I want a new throne made by the finest craftsmen in my country." Noticing Sylvia's embarrassed look, she added, pointing at the tactician: "Tell them to ensure it is to her specifications."

The servant nodded and left in a hurry.

Flavia strode purposefully up the steps, retaining her authority even when walking on a ruined carpet towards a defaced throne. She sat on her throne, settling into a comfortable pose. Standing at her side, Sylvia whispered to her: "It feels very busy here all of a sudden. Is it always like this?"

"Not always." Flavia assured her. "But... It'll need to be this busy for a while. After all, we're rebuilding a palace. The thing I'm most worried about now is the other nations. They'll try and offer us help..."

"How is that a bad thing?" Sylvia asked, obviously puzzled by the apparently contradictory statement.

"If they help us, we'll owe them one. They're going to try and use this to get Ferox as their allies, and drag us into their politics." Flavia's stormy look told Sylvia all she needed to know.

"So..." Began Sylvia, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What's the plan if they do come here to 'help' us?".

Flavia grinned.

"Intimidate them, and tell them that we will not need any help."

"That is so much like you. Then again, never underestimate fear as a tactic..."

They shared a smile at the memory of a particularly effective tactic that had sent a whole troop of Grimleal on the run.

Sylvia turned her head towards the great hall. There was a lot of damage, but signs of repair were already starting to show. Little bits of life were slowly returning to the palace.