DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fire Emblem but there is some leftover chicken in the fridge that we do happen to own, and I am rather hungry :'D

Wheee, this was brewed from an inside joke between me and Epona64. She's a great writer, check out her stuff sometime. :'D Oh, and don't ask, srsly. Instead, try saying the first sentence to yourself without taking in any breaths and see if you can do it.

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Story Number Nine- Fried Chicken

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There was, once upon a whatever, a story to be told that was probably never even mentioned nor uttered to any living being ever before, a strange and unusual story that started with a man standing atop a hill in the snowy mountaintops of Daein, his homeland. He never in actuality told anyone about where he came from. He kept it a secret that he actually wasn't discriminatory against Laguz for obvious reasons, and instead let his duties take hold of his true emotions. He felt it best. He was a commander of Daein, after all; how far would his image be altered if he had admitted to such a thing, such a thing that was disgusting to the other citizens- and generals- of Daein?

He was remembering things from long ago. The man recalled training with his father, the one who taught him fencing, how to wield a sword properly. A hand ran through his dark green hair at the recollection; it gave him some sense of confidence. His self-esteem wasn't too bad, he remained clam and sure of himself even as the Crimean army marched forwards towards the army he had commanded. There was something he felt deep down but had tried to ignore. He knew it was probably hunger, but he couldn't be distracted. He knew what Petrine did to soldiers if they failed and he didn't even want to imagine it; he even quietly told himself in his mind that if he were to be defeated he'd rather be killed right there on the battlefield than let General Petrine do what she did best, but he told himself over and over that he would not lose. He would win, he would win. Daein had already lost too much. It was ruining the reputation of the corrupted country- he actually thought the country was becoming a bit of a mess, but he never said that.

He felt his stomach grumble a bit. He knew he was hungry, but he couldn't let that stop him. Food started to come into his starving mind. He knew he should've eaten before, but he spent too much time preparing. He had heard that the Crimeans were mightier than they looked, so he had to have everything in order. But he was famished. He wished he had grabbed at least a little something beforehand, like maybe some Meat, more desiring he had found was Fried Chicken. He longed for it dearly. He had wished for Fried Chicken but Fried Chicken didn't seem to want him that day, which would be his last day probably, actually most likely, but he didn't know that because he had believed so much that'd he be in victory. He wanted victory and not loss. However, he had also wanted Fried Chicken.

He spotted something in the distance that caught his attention. It caught his attention from his hunger momentarily, from his wanting of Fried Chicken, which was what he had wanted the most. He stepped forward and put a hand over his eyes to see better; somehow, to him, the blizzard was rather bright, in a way. There was something about how white snow was. He knew he should have been used to it because he had lived around here, where winters were harsh and very white and sparkling snow was quite frequent. It just seemed rather different that day.

The swordmaster had to squint his eyes a bit more, but he discovered someone that struck him as odd- he looked almost exactly like him. His hair was maybe a bit shorter and lighter, and his attire more... colorful, but nevertheless, he looked almost like a long-lost relative, a cousin, maybe even a brother? The Daein commander standing a distance away wanted to ask him if he had in reality been related to him, but he knew he couldn't do that. He was the enemy, at least part of it anyways, and the enemy was to die there today. They had to. They had to die. There was something inside of him that kept him a little hesitant from that fact, but he couldn't lose. However, his curiosity of the man confused him.

Fried

His stomach growled again. Not now, he had thought to himself angrily, not now. The Crimean stragglers are coming closer and those blasted crow sub-humans have already abandoned us- which he had just noticed--

"Shit."

Chicken

He swore under his breath, he at least hoped it was under his breath. He was reminded that his own breath was visible, too, and the man atop the hill of shining white remembered that he was cold, and also that he really badly needed food. He started to feel dizzy, but he forced himself to keep standing. Nearly the whole of his soldiers were decimated already, and it was only a matter of time before he would be found and challenged. He drew his sonic sword and readied himself. He wouldn't be like the others that were killed so easily, he wouldn't.

"C-Commander Homasa!" Came the voice of one of his soldiers, made barely audible by the sharp cries of the blizzarding wind, "Th-the raven king has--"

"I know already!" The rather cross commander shouted, cutting the soldier short. His frustration seethed to the point of boiling over. "How about spending less time stating the obvious and more time fending off the enemy army?!"

The soldier said no more, probably to placate Homasa, but either way he sprinted off quickly and was cut down appromixately five minutes later. Homasa sighed. The green-haired man he saw earlier appeared before him once again, closer this time, maybe even noticing him; He felt like this man was eyeing him intently, as if waiting for him to do something, but he didn't know what.

"You!" Homasa pointed to a soldier that hadn't taken much of a move yet, "Bring me my Fried Chicken.. !"

".. Huh?" The soldier stared at his commander dumbfoundedly. There was a moment of awkward silence before Homasa realized his fault, and he groaned in annoyance, perhaps also in hunger.

"That man!! Bring him to me!"

There was a period where he was questioned on which man it was, and Homasa had to specify rather forcefully and harshly. Then there was the moment of waiting, and spacing out, and the thoughts of Fried Chicken. When he discovered that his possible relative was standing right in front of him, staring at him with a rather curious and amused expression on his face, Homasa made some sort of a sound and pointed at this amused man. "You.. ! Why do you look so much like me?!"

"Hm? Why, I should be asking you the same thing," The man replied.

Homasa's hunger struck him once again, and he found himself having to catch his breath before speaking once more. He knew what hunger was as he used to live with it every day, but there was a different hunger entangled with this one as well, and the mere thought of it sickened him, maybe a little.

"You.. !" He began, pausing and continuing afterwards, "I am Homasa, a commander of Daein! Tell me, what is your name?"

"Hm? Me? Why, I am Stefan. You seemed to be rather interested in me if I'm not mistaken."

"Ste... Stefan..." He repeated. "Will you... be my Fried Chicken.. ?"

"... What?"

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.. This ended out horribly. Ah well. Story ten should be coming soon