A/N: This pairing was decided a little later, when I already weeded out a lot of potential suitors. That's not to say that this pairing is in any way bad. In fact, I found it very touching and sad. In the bunch of goofy, heartwarming, and innocent supports, there are a few the tragic ones.

Pairing Profiles: Tharja x Gregor

~Where there is a female Robin, there is a battle between two guys for a lady to hold (unless Robin marries someone like Gangrel, then neither of them get hitched), and this usually boils down to Gregor and Ricken for me. So you need to ask yourself whether you want to ship the older man with a woman, or ship a little boy with some terrible implications (the child will end up being the same age as the others, so clearly whoever he married didn't wait long). Having decided that Ricken would remain single, this leaves Gregor.
~Noire has basically the same issues with her parents as she would in the game. Her mother is abusive and her father doesn't have the nerve to stand up to his wife. So I was looking for a husband who actually would bend in this situation. To quote the FE wiki, Gregor is a lot easier to hurt emotionally
than he lets on, and ends up being intimidated by Tharja into working again should you marry them. Looking at Tharja's other paired epilogues, she doesn't really scare her other suitors.
~Gregor's got a very lovable personality. Simply put, he cares. For this story, I wanted a father who would lend his daughter that listening ear, ask her what's wrong, and yet not directly fight the source of her problems. Gregor wouldn't dare tell someone they're wrong, but he certainly seems the type to take blame and redirect Tharja's anger to him rather than actually confront her.
~"Oy! Future Gregor sound like pathetic man-child!"
~"Bye for now, Noire! Much love!"


Under the jungle gym, a little redheaded girl was crying. Smashed to pieces before her was a doll. Its porcelain face broken open and limbs torn from the body and shattered. No one dared approached her, the witch's child, to offer her sympathy.

At least not until that early autumn afternoon, when a tomboyish girl came and sat down in front of her in the grass. The girl stared down at the many pieces of the doll, and asked, "What happened?"

The smaller girl looked up with puffy red eyes, and sniffled. "T-they broke my doll..." She buried her face into her knees, embarrassed, and waited for the laughter.

"Did you break their faces?" asked the tomboy.

Though shocked by the question, the redhead hastily shook her head. "N-no! I could never!"

"Well, then they'll never leave you alone." She remarked, then glanced around the playground. "Hey, where are they anyways?"

Nervously, the redhead pointed out three boys who chatted away at the swing set with their friends. The redhead noticed the intensity of the tomboy's stare, as if she was trying to engrave their faces in her mind.

Just as suddenly as the tomboy showed up, she got up and left. However, the redhead already felt the sting of her loss lessen.

It was two days later that the bullies returned and tugged her by her pigtails, the third came at her with a pair of scissors. She screamed as he snipped the scissors shut by her ear, and the tugging on one side of her head ceased. She heard one of the boys give a victorious whoop, and spotted a fistful of red hair in his hand.

Out of the blue, the boy with the scissors went stumbling forward and fell face first in the dirt. Behind him, the tomboy lowered her leg. Her hands were curled into fists, and her eyes burned in anger. The redhead and the other two boys froze in shock.

"You boys make me sick!" The tomboy yelled. "If you don't clear out in five seconds, I'll flatten all of you jerks!"

The boy to the redhead's left tugged on her pigtail, earning a shriek, and snapped, "You don't scare us, girly!"

The other threw the fist full of hair to the ground and rushed at her. Her knee came up and collided directly to his groin. His eyes bulged and he collapsed on the ground, clutching himself in the grass.

That's when the remaining boy let the redhead go and threw a punch at the tomboy, which hit her cheek with a smack. A trail of blood trickled down from the tomboy's nose as she caught her balance from the blow, and rebounded back at him. Her fist struck him straight in the stomach, a blow which easily dropped him too.

The tomboy rubbed at the blood under her nose, and the redhead stared in absolute shock. The tomboy stepped over one of the boys, and, with that same hand she beat the boys up with, delicately touched the smaller girl's head. "It's going to be okay now." she assured.

The redhead stared with eyes filled with tears, and threw her arms around the tomboy. "Thank you! Thank you! Oh my gods, thank you so much!"

"Woah, easy!" The tomboy stepped back, uncertain how to handle being hugged. "You don't need to thank me or anything, really."

Very soon, the teachers found out and they were sent straight to the principal's office. Apparently, the other kids on the playground told on them for beating up the boys, who were sent to the nurse where they gave some sob story about being beaten up. For several minutes, the principal yelled at the two girls, his face turning beet red, until he stormed out of his office to call their parents. There was talk of suspension. The redhead cried the entire time while the tomboy sat with a look of indifference.

The redhead looked down at her lap guiltily and murmured, "I'm sorry... I got you in trouble."

The tomboy glanced at the other and tipped her head to one side. "Don't be stupid. They deserved to get their butts kicked. I'm not scared of getting in trouble."

Surprised, the redhead met her gaze and gave a teary smile.

The tomboy looked over to the principal's desk, where there was a jar of assorted pencils, pens, and office supplies; including a pair of scissors. She got up and plucked the scissors from the jar. She held them by the blade, down at her side.

This confused the redhead and she knitted her brows as she stared at her. "What are you doing?"

The tomboy went back to her seat and turned her body towards her. "You look kinda silly with half your hair gone. Do you mind if I even it out?"

Several seconds passed as the redhead sat there looking as if she was struck in the head. She answered quickly, her voice a squeak. "Okay. D-do it quickly!" She dropped her head down and squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to watch.

Those delicate hands took hold of her remaining pigtail and the large scissors closed over her hair with a loud snip. When the redhead looked up again, the tomboy was working the hair tie around the bundle of hair to keep it all together. "There. See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The redhead nodded slowly. She gingerly touched her much shorter hair. It would take time to get used to it. Despite herself, she smiled.

The tomboy quickly replaced the scissors and sat back down. Then she thrust a hand out to the redhead. "My name's Kjelle, by the way."

Hesitantly, the redhead took Kjelle's hand. "I'm Noire."

"Well, Noire, I'll protect you. Forever." Kjelle told her with a smile. "That's a promise."

Noire gave a shy smile as she replied, "Then I'll be your friend forever."


Noire readjusted her hold on the tiny paper bag in her hand as she walked up the road back home. She knew she was very late for work and her mother wouldn't be happy in the slightest. However, she had been saving up for months for Kjelle's birthday present this year, and she only had a week before then. If she didn't get out and buy it today, then she doubted she would get another chance.

When she stepped into her mother's shop, the first thing she noticed was the intense glare fixed straight on her. Rage emanated off Tharja's very being as she loomed over the counter. "Where were you?" she growled.

Noire paled in fear. "I-I was just..." she fished for an excuse, as there was no way she'd be let off the hook if her mother knew she was shopping. "I g-got a detention."

Tharja looked positively baffled by this and narrowed her eyes, "For?"

"Ah, for...?" Noire panicked and blurted out, "I punched someone!" At this point, she hoped her mother wouldn't catch her lying and throw a truth curse on her... again.

Tharja sighed and propped her chin in her hand. "What? Did your friend beat someone up? Since when do you ever punch someone?"

"I-I did!" she stammered. "I gave him a bloody nose and everything!"

"And why didn't I get a call home about this?" Tharja questioned.

At this point, Noire blanched, knowing she was backed up in a proverbial corner. She gaped like a fish for several seconds and looked down.

"You know, I get very annoyed when I have to hex you to get the truth," Tharja stated, and produced a small talisman from her pocket. Her thumb struck over the glass surface, and she asked flatly, "Now where were you?"

"I was getting a birthday present," Noire answered, unable to stop herself, "for Kjelle..." She felt ill from the hex, and reflexively held her hand over her mouth.

Tharja sighed and put the talisman away. "There. Now was that so hard?"

Noire shook her head and felt tears sting her eyes. Her voice was weak as she asked, "H-how long is this hex supposed to last?"

Tharja tapped her jaw and answered flatly, "One week. Serves you right for lying." She straightened and pointed to the stairs to their apartment. "Now, go get in your uniform and get to work."

Noire didn't say a word as she slunk past her mother and went upstairs. In the cluttered living room, she found her father reclined on the couch. He seemed distracted, if the wayward look he had was any indication. Or maybe buzzed, she considered when she noticed the beer can on the coffee table. She shut the door, which alerted him to her presence.

He looked her way and smiled in his usual friendly way. "Hello, Noire. How was day?"

"It was fine until I got home," Noire replied. She felt tempted to kick herself because she knew exactly where this would go now and had no way of stopping it short of locking herself in her room for a week and turning music on at full blast.

Her father knitted his brows as he inquired, "Your mother be making with the cursing again?"

Noire produced a whine as she tried to restrain herself from talking. Despite her best efforts to not answer, she ended up nodding.

"What is this curse being?" he asked.

At this point, she gave up fighting the curse's compulsion to answer. "A week-long truth curse. I lied about where I was and she put it on me as punishment."

"Be excusing," he said as he got up. "Gregor has business he must be making." With that, he left the apartment.

Noire shook her head, as she already had a good idea what that business was. She hated getting him involved.

All that she really could do at this point was do what she came up here for and get ready for work. She threw on the work tee shirt, and went back downstairs where she walked in on her parents arguing. Noire stepped back, fear curdling in her gut, as Tharja finally grew frustrated and shouted out a mess of words and waved her arms at him. Almost immediately, Gregor grabbed the counter to brace himself.

Tharja took a deep breath and told him flatly, "Go back upstairs. Call the bar and tell them you aren't coming in to work for the next few days." Her attention turned to Noire. "You're very lucky."

Noire nodded shakily. Her mother couldn't curse two people at once. Her father knew this and always came to her rescue.

Slowly, Gregor tried to stand, and stumbled. Noire rushed to his side to help him upstairs. He was certainly in rough shape, having broken into sweat and unable to walk straight. She got him upstairs and laid him down on the couch. He groaned and flopped a hand over his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Noire apologized, and held onto his hand. "What did she do?"

"Eh... is vertical...?" He frowned and mulled the word over aloud. "No... vermilion? The room will not quit with the spinning..."

"Vertigo?" Noire guessed. "Oh. I'm so sorry. You didn't have to do that."

"Do not be apologizing," Gregor sighed, and turned on his side. "Curse will wear off soon, yes? Is no problem."

Although Noire sincerely doubted that it would wear off soon, she knew it wouldn't last forever. After all, Gregor's bouncer job contributed a good portion to their income and Tharja knew better than to curse him with something more potent. Usually, Tharja ends up just dispelling her curses on him early so that he can just go back to work.

Noire got up and went back downstairs, since she still had work to do. There were several guys from her school peering around the store, and her mother was watching them with keen eyes. Noire awkwardly stood beside her mother, and took a deep breath to compose herself.

Those guys left without purchasing a single thing. That's how it usually was. People from her school came in, laughed at the "crazy voodoo nonsense" in the store, joked about the naked people on some tarot decks, and left (usually making a scene of breathing "fresh air"). Though infuriating, Noire never spoke out against it. Today was no different.

Three hours past uneventfully. The most interesting thing her mother said was that Lucina came in that afternoon with Robin, and then spent several minutes grumbling about how Henry got involved. Finally, Tharja sent Noire out to make a grocery run. She scurried out the front door and down the street. Night fell on the city, the darkness only pushed back by the glowing of the streetlamps and store lights. Her heart hammered in her chest and she found herself looking back and every which way. Despite the crowds of people around and the heavy road traffic, she oddly felt alone. That was what truly terrified her.

At the crosswalk, she once again looked around. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and a chill rattled down her spine. Someone was watching her, she swore to the gods someone was. Whoever it was couldn't be far. In her panic, she rushed out into the street to cross.

There was a blaring from a trucker's horn and she was ripped from where she stood. She struggled against the arms wrapped around her and shrieked to be let go. She was spun around, those hands came to clasp her shoulder. She tried to pull away, her eyes were clenched shut and her hands pressed against the person's chest.

"Noire, Noire, look at me!" It was Kjelle's voice. Noire froze and peaked up to see her friend paler than she ever seen her and her eyes wide. "You know better than to walk out into the road like that!"

Trembling like a newborn kitten, Noire nodded and meekly said, "I'm sorry."

"That guy almost ran you over," Kjelle added, "you're lucky I was here to pull you back in time."

Noire gave a small "Thank you." and twisted her hands together.

Kjelle calmed down, and put a hand on Noire's head to gently tussle her short hair. "Just try to be more careful next time." She dropped her hand back down to her side and glanced around. "So where are you headed?"

"To the grocery store," Noire answered, and felt relieved that her friend calmed down so quickly. "Mother is having me get things for dinner."

Her friend hummed and offered up, "I'll go with you, just to make sure you don't get run over, okay?"

Noire blushed and nodded. "O-okay. Thanks."

With that, they walked down the street together. Noire looked back once more and met the stare of a man in a dark purple jacket, who frowned before he sunk into an alley. Kjelle kept close, but looked more or less calm. "You know you shouldn't walk out alone at night, right?"

Noire wrung hands on the hem of her shirt. "I know."

"Those Grimleal thugs will nab you," Kjelle continued. "They've done it before."

"You mean twenty years ago when they kidnapped the governor? Emmeryn?" The redhead was met with a stern look from her friend. "I'll be more careful."


Cafeteria. Far left table by the exits.

It was a note Noire discovered at the bottom of her locker Monday morning. There was no name. Only a place. Whoever wrote the note even forgot a time, but one could assume that they meant during lunch time. For half the day, Noire was left imagining who this Anonymous was. She soon felt a fluttery panic at the thought that he (or she, she later thought) was looking to confess his love for her. Her face burned deep scarlet at the thought, and she slapped her face into her hands.

He would take hold of her hand and give her a dashing grin, the stubble on his jaw catching the sunlight. She would turn him down, and he would ask her in his low and silky voice why she rejects his deep and burning love. To this she would tell him that what he wishes is simply impossible, that they couldn't be together. He grabs her, and says that anything is possible with her, and kisses her tenderly on the-

"Uh, Noire?"

Noire jumped in her seat and looked at Kjelle with a startled "Huh?!"

"Did you hear anything the teacher said? There's a project." Kjelle informed.

Looking down, beet red and ashamed, Noire meekly said, "I know."

Kjelle sighed. "Is something up? You've been zoned out all day."

Noire bit her lip and wondered if she dare tell her friend about her secret admirer. What if she was envious? Finally, Noire came to the conclusion that Kjelle wouldn't be mad, it simply wasn't in her friend's nature to get bent out of shape over a guy. She swallowed her nerves and said, "I found a note in my locker this morning."

To this, Kjelle seemed curious. "Really? What did it say?"

"It said to meet them in the cafeteria at the far left table." Noire answered.

"You too?" Kjelle fished out a slip of notebook paper from her pocket, with those exact words written in the same handwriting.

"What?" A Casanova?! Noire felt her fantasy curl up and die.

Kjelle jammed the paper back into her pocket. "Huh. Maybe this guy is calling a bunch of people to meet him."

Oh no! Noire buried her face back into her hands to conceal her vibrantly flush cheeks. "Oh gods! Whoever he is, he probably wants to date us!"

Soon the lunch bell rang, and the two walked down to the cafeteria together. Already there was a tall senior guy, Laurent. He skimmed through the page of his book behind the narrow lenses of his glasses, an almost bored expression on his face. Noire felt her heart start to slam, and she clutched Kjelle's hand.

Kjelle didn't pause and walked straight up to the table, she grabbed the note from her pocket. "Hey, cafeteria at the far left table. What the hell do you want?"

He looked up from his book. He gave a puzzled frown and he suddenly realized what she was talking about. "Oh, it seems you are mistaken, I-"

"Look, you creep, you don't mess with Noire." Kjelle interrupted him. "I don't care if you try something with me, I can break you in half, but you leave her out of it." She thrust a finger threateningly in his face. "You're a senior and we're not even sixteen yet, you sicko!"

He pulled something from his shirt pocket. This turned out to be a slip of notebook paper. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding. I received an anonymous note to meet someone at this table as well."

Kjelle lowered her hand. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have assumed."

"It's quite alright," Laurent said and nudged his glassed back up. "Though I should warn you, there are a few others who also found these mysterious notes in their lockers."

Kjelle and Noire sat down across from him, and watched the crowd of students shamble in to get their lunch and find seats. One by one, ten others joined them at the table, all with the same notes. Noire was surprised that she recognized them all. Inigo and Brady were the next two, followed soon after by Severa. A minute passed before Yarne came over clutching his lunch and sitting on the far side of the table. Lucina arrived seeking answers and said little when none were given. Cynthia and Nah came together, along with Marc and Morgan. Just as the table started to get chatty, Gerome showed up and also sat at the far side of the table, prompting Yarne to scoot closer to the rest of the group to avoid his intimidating classmate. All of them were only here because of some mysterious note. By then, Noire's daydreams of Anonymous were thoroughly squashed.

Noire wondered if she should just leave, but then Owain arrived. "Greetings! I see you got my note." Anonymous was Owain?!

Gerome got up to leave.

"Hey, where are you going?" Owain questioned, confused.

Gerome glared down at Owain behind his dark sunglasses. "I didn't come here to listen to your nonsense."

"But, I had this really cool idea, I swear. Just sit back down and listen." Owain pleaded.

After several seconds of deliberation, Gerome relented and took his seat again.

Owain got back on track and returned to the end of the table. "So my idea is that we start a D&D club here at school. It'll be great!"

Unsurprisingly, Gerome got up and left.

Yarne piped up, "What's D&D?"

"Dungeons and Dragons," Marc answered, "it's a tabletop role-play game."

Severa got up and straightened her skirt. "Yeah, sounds lame, I think I'll pass. I got work after school anyways."

Brady nodded. "Same. I ain't really got time for clubs." He stood and followed Severa out.

Looking frustrated at this point, Owain asked the remaining people, "Does anyone else not have time?"

Yarne was juggling track team with work, Kjelle had mixed martial arts classes along with lacrosse tryouts, and Lucina and Inigo had work. These people, with varied degrees of apologies, left as well. This left Noire with four freshmen, Laurent, and an increasingly frustrated Owain. She knew there was no reason for her to stay either. Her mother never gave her a day off except for when the store closed on Sunday. "I don't think I would have time either." She said sadly. "I wish I could go, but my mom keeps the store open most of the week."

"I would need to know the day the club is held," Laurent added. "I have a couple days I could work with."

Owain sighed and looked over at the freshmen still sitting there. "And you four?"

"We're free," Morgan chimed, looping her arm over Marc's shoulder.

"Me too, I got nothing to do!" Cynthia proclaimed.

Nah shrugged. "I'm not all that interested, honestly." She got up. "I'll be back, I'm just getting lunch."

"Well that's four people," Owain said. He sat down. "So, we have the minimum required to make a club. Let's work out a day so that I can find a teacher to supervise."

Laurent nodded. "I have Monday and Wednesday. However, I would need to leave strictly at 4:30, because those days I work at 5."

"Okay, that's a start." Owain turned to Noire. "Are you sure your mom won't give you either of those days off?"

Noire clutched her hands together in her lap. "Well, we have next to no business on Wednesdays. I could try to convince her to close then. If that doesn't work though, then I can't come."

He smiled, very much grateful. "Alright, so Wednesdays. I'll give a rough estimate of time being after school until 5, but that really depends on who I get to supervise."

"I have a few suggestions for teachers, if you wish to check with them." Laurent offered.

The rest was history. The six spent the remainder of lunch planning out the club and its finer details. The eager students shared ideas up until the bell rang, and Noire left for her next class excited to get home and ask her mother to give her Wednesday off.


Again, sorry I'm so slow with updates. I've been meaning to write but got stuck for a while.

Another thing I'd like to note that'll be different than the game. The children all will be interacting here, meaning that even if they don't have a support, they're going to be friends or will be by the end of this fanfic. I honestly get frustrated with the children not having a lot of same-sex supports, even though they would just as enjoyable as their het supports. So expect all the children to talk or interact with everyone at some point.

Thanks for reading!
Trigram