Author's Note: OKAY. Here's this story I've been rambling about for a while but haven't been working on seriously or actually posting. Time to get down to business: an absurdly long pre-game fic about Emmeryn, Frederick, Chrom, and Lissa as they grow up. Chapters will vary pretty severely in length. While Chrom and Lissa will definitely have their voices, the narration will be a little heavier on Emmeryn and Frederick's end, because they're older and able to comprehend more about the world and what's happening around them.
I do mess around with ages and timelines a little, since the game seems to have a lot of weird contradictions or things that were left completely un-fleshed out. AKA I'm making most of this up. If you see something particularly egregious, let me know and I'll try to reconcile it in later chapters. Otherwise, I'm just rolling with what makes sense to me XD.
Chapter One: Loyalty
Emmeryn might have been an angel, the first time he met her.
The vast throne room made Frederick blink owlishly; bright white morning light burst through the large glass panes lining both stone walls. A red carpet marked his path to the throne and dais and the girl standing there, shining. Sunlight made golden rings of her thick yellow curls. His knees creaked in protest when he knelt before her, his white tunic catching the light like her skin was, after the long night already spent kneeling.
He hadn't imagined being knighted like this.
He'd imagined it would be the Exalt himself bringing down the sword, tall and imposing and dark-haired. But the Exalt was away now, fighting in Plegia. A war he had started, Frederick learned when he came to the capital to be squired. The thought made his stomach turn. Father always spoke about the Exalt like he was holy; infallible. And then the reports came of entire villages razed to the ground, the smoking corpses of women and children, rumors of atrocities done to Plegian prisoners. He supposed he was pleased that the Exalt's daughter would instead do the deed, even if she was a slip of a girl and just past thirteen, and even if she used a decorative rapier that made her wrist tremble with its weight, rather than the legendary Falchion, which was out tasting innocent blood.
He'd imagined his father would be present. Proud, for once. Smiling, for once. Frederick would finally have earned his love by being knighted at fifteen, one of the youngest in a decade. No one would ever call him worthless again; he would be the most helpful and capable creature alive.
But Father wasn't here to see. He was out with the Exalt, warring, wearing his sword and his frown, blinded by his loyalty. Killing whomever his lord told him to kill without question.
Would he grow blind himself, Frederick wondered. If the Exalt called him too, would he not go? Was loyalty not the most important thing? His thoughts were broken:
"I dub thee Sir Frederick, knight of Ylisse."
Emmeryn tapped him on each shoulder with her blade so gently that he barely felt it. Then she gave her sword to one of the knights at her side, lifted him up by the shoulders, and kissed his face. When she pulled away he saw circles under her eyes, very dark against her pale skin.
"My lady," he said, feeling no different, "you look exhausted."
"What a thing to say. Most knights, I am told, simply say 'thank you' or swear to serve Ylisse anew."
"Yes, of course, but my foremost duty is now to your health and safety, and I intend to take it seriously. Shall I escort you back to your rooms? Are you ill? Is there anything I can do?"
"Do well," she said with a soft smile. "Forgive me, I did not mean to appear so tired. But you are the first person I have ever knighted, and before bed last night, I couldn't help but think of you at your vigil—being in that drafty old chapel all night, with your knees aching, alone and in the dark. So I stayed up all night too, and prayed for you."
All night?
For him?
He was so touched that words failed him. She giggled at his expression, and the young Captain Phila appeared at her side.
"Come, Your Grace," she said. "You have other duties to attend to, this morning."
"Yes, Phila. Goodbye, Sir Frederick."
She nearly floated out of the room in her modest green skirts, and he stared after her, heedless of the knights who came to clap him on the back.
This, then, was blind, unwavering loyalty; the most important thing. This was someone he could follow to the ends of the earth. This was someone he would never fail, no matter what a failure he was by nature.
He swore it.
Author's Note: P.S. The point of view will change each chapter. Next time it's Chrom's.