Word count: 700 words.

Reverie and Resplendence

Corrin was in love with it from the word go. Granted, he had been sweet on her ever since he first laid his eyes on her, but nothing could compare to the look upon his face when Azura finally emerged from behind the curtains concealing her splendid form.

"I, uh," he was speechless, to say the least. His chest was tight, his heart felt heavy, his stomach felt caught in knots and he somehow felt both lightheaded and dumbstruck at the same time. It was like he was meeting her for the first time again, a chance encounter between two fated souls, only this she didn't need to sing to mesmerize him. Merely standing in his presence was all it took for him to fall for her all over again.

"Wow... Azura..." he breathed, his soft lips parted, wide eyes becoming half-lidded, his cheeks and ears as bright as could be.

"I had a feeling you would like it," the songstress clutched her arm, shy under her prince's burning gaze but yearning for it all the same. "Maybe it would have been a better idea to surprise you with it, instead of telling you they had selected me beforehand."

Corrin didn't respond, his silence earning a smile that made his heart flutter. "Though it would seem I've shocked you anyway."

It wasn't uncommon for Askr's heroes to be caught outside their standard fare from time to time. It was often the result of curious trips to worlds enveloped in sport or festivity, the spirit and awe inspiring many a hero to take to the dressing room in celebration. The prince and songstress were no different, up until the order introduced official 'resplendent' garments intended for only the most devoted of heroes.

"My apologies if I ruined the suspense. At any rate, I—oh!"

Corrin's feet couldn't carry him fast enough. They pulled him off the bed before his mind could catch up, and when it did he found himself embracing her with every fiber he could muster. He was glued, affixed, and in more ways than one, completely and utterly attracted to her. The dress, the snowflakes adorning its frills, the window of bare skin just asking to be kissed, her cloudy sleeves and the pristine wings adorning her shoulders, coupled with the flowers in her hair and the amber elegance of the sashes and baubles holding the ensemble together, it was enough to drive a dragon to the brink. Never was he more drunk on water, never did he want to drown himself in it—in her. Azura may have been modeling an ice princess, but she was hot and Corrin absolutely did not mind getting burned.

Azura was caught off guard at first, unprepared for her husband's unabashedly lustful advance, but she soon sank into his arms, rolling into him every time he instinctively pressed close.

"Cold, are you?" she hummed as he lost himself in her headdress. She couldn't remember the last time she had left him so entranced, so wanting (though their once in a lifetime lakeside encounter in the buff came to mind).

"Hardly," Corrin answered, letting his nose brush against hers as he indulged. "What kind of man swoops up a maiden of Nifl if he's freezing?"

"One who wants to get colder, maybe," she decided to play along. "But you look as though you need a cooldown."

"You look great," he mused, trying so hard to keep his hands from wandering. "So, so great... Gods, I would never dream of forcing it upon you, but if you..."

Perhaps Corrin was contagious, or maybe it was something else altogether, but Azura gripped one of his burning ears and began to cool it with her magic, an icy flair dancing with the fleeting waves.

"Why do you think I brought us to my quarters?" she asked boldly, breathlessly, and his feet leaped ahead of him again.

He brought her onto his lap and began with the back of her hands, kissing them softly as she felt him grow impatient. "Azura..."

"Corrin..."

They're beyond spent by sunrise, and Azura, contrary to her promise, was hotter than any woman bearing the Nifl standard could ever possibly be.