A man stood on top of a short crate in the middle of the square wearing strange light blue robes with a hood over his head. He spoke as a preacher in the middle of the public, his sermon involving the promise of a god of the open night to come and rescue those who are still waiting for Naga's grace. Two other similarly robed men stood behind him, their hands joining in their large, loose sleeves and identities hidden under their headwear. The people of Ylisstol gave the preacher a safe berth and the side-eye with some scowling but otherwise did nothing to dissuade or silence the religious man.

Fairen stared from afar as he walked by. It was the middle of the afternoon, with the heavy early fall sun shining down the intersection, heating up the dirt road, highlighting the dust kicked up by the populace walking through dryness. Fairen was impressed by the way the man took to slandering Naga and her following without actually stating it. He looked to the side to find Stahl giving the preacher a neutral if not uneasy look and Sumia frowning.

"How come no one's stopping him?" Fairen asked discretely.

"No one said you're not allowed to worship other religions in Ylisstol," Stahl said. "Unless you're part of the Grimleal, of course."

The three of them exited down the street. Fairen was in the middle of the shopping district in west Ylisstol directly a day after getting back from the Dragon House. He had a thin pair of brown trousers held around his waist with a cheap belt and a white shirt. Stahl managed to keep his colour theme with a green vest and his dark shirt, and Sumia wore a flowery yellow dress with fashionably tall boots. The various citizens passed by as Fairen eyed the shops up and down, some with signs hanging off the fronts advertising their shop name and specialty. Florists, cobblers, fletchers, smiths, clothiers, and many more found their homes between the closely built structures.

"What was that guy talking about, anyway?" Fairen pondered aloud.

"That was an Azurite," Sumia said, glancing at Fairen. "They've been popping up in the last couple of months. They call themselves the followers of the Azure Moon, but I think they're more like a cult."

"No one really knows when they showed up," Stahl said. "But I remember only seeing one or two in the span of a week in the spring. Now I feel like there's a member every three blocks talking about how the next coming of their god will save everyone."

A myriad of emotions jumping from confusion to alarm and then curiosity pooled in Fairen. "I can't believe I've never noticed them before."

The more Fairen thought about it, however, the more he felt as if he recalled seeing people dressed in the stark blue that the preacher wore at various places in the past during the first month when he was searching for a church to visit.

"I definitely feel like there's more of them now," Sumia agreed.

"'Azure Moon', huh?" Fairen said, putting his hand to his chin. "So, what, they worship a moon god or something?"

Stahl shook his head. "Something like that, but I don't really know. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Don't you worship some sort of moon figure, Fairen?" Sumia chimed in. "I've heard you curse and bless things based on the moon before."

Fairen inwardly but casually swore. "I guess, yeah. I have some sort of belief in a larger figure revolving up there. Me speaking about the moon is more of a habit, really."

"Maybe they have something in common with your belief," Stahl tentatively tried to add.

"I sure hope not," Fairen said. "I don't think I want anything to do with them." He fiddled with the amulet around his neck.

The three continued down the street, Fairen popping into a store or two on occasion. Sumia and Stahl had agreed to help him do some last-minute shopping after Fairen found out about the princess' birthday. Admittedly, he had no idea what to get. The sudden realization that Lissa's birthday was very, very soon overwhelmed Fairen's ability to actually think about what a great present to Lissa would be. He considered getting her some flowers like Stahl, or maybe some sweets, but he felt as if those wouldn't be good enough.

When he would step into a dresser's shop, he would step right back out after ten minutes of speaking to whoever owned the abode after learning and re-learning he actually needed Lissa's measurements to get her a decent dress, to which he didn't want to try and eyeball or guess based merely on memory. He eventually decided to not buy Lissa any clothing, as he figured, along with Sumia's comments, that Lissa had access to any kind of clothes she could ever want at any given moment in time with her riches, especially since she had access to the royal armourer. He only entered one blacksmith before deciding that a healer would likely not want any sort of weapon gifted to their persons without at least some training first, training that Fairen did not have the knowhow (or frankly, patience) of giving. He found some exotic bead necklaces and armbands that briefly fancied his interest, but nothing he found felt to him as if they would fit on Lissa.

The search went into the second and third hour of the afternoon. The trio had stopped for a short break at the local market for a bite to eat. Fairen again expressed his gratitude to the company he had, to which Sumia and Stahl reassured him that it was nothing and they were glad to be of help to him. Fairen found as he walked around he couldn't ignore the small amount of fame that came with being a Shepherd, as men and women would recognize and greet the three of them after realizing just who they were. He felt comfortable around so many friendly faces, but was still slightly unnerved that everyone seemed to know who he was. The children, however, he had no qualms with, and played to the idea of being a hero to every single boy or girl who approached him asking about them and Prince Chrom's adventures.

He briefly thought about all the work he left behind at the University of Ylisstol. Miriel was making great progress in learning Fairen's magic, but the current focus of his studies could be found among the dozens of kingdom war and history books littered among a quiet little table in the corner of the library that Fairen called his study quarters. He gleaned maneuvers and formation theory from past conflicts that defined the continent he and the other Shepherds lived on today, and gained a better understanding of the friction between Ylisse and Plegia.

At some point during the afternoon the trio came across a familiar face.

"Vaike!" Fairen shouted, waving to the sturdy and muscular man. Vaike, in a plain shirt and farm shorts, turned around and gave a huge smile while holding two different hands at either side of him.

"Fairen! Stahl! Sumia!" Vaike replied. He stumbled forward as the two children under his eye tugged forward in two opposite directions before turning to see what Vaike was yelling at.

When Fairen and his cohorts reached Vaike, Stahl and Sumia stood in mild shock and confusion. Flanking both sides Vaike were children with vague resemblances to the warrior looking after them. One was a boy no older than five with spiky blond hair and a runny nose, and the other boy had a flat black mat atop his head but had an energetic look that Vaike got in the heat of battle.

"Nice to have you guys drop by," Vaike stated. The children seemed to sidle a bit closer to Vaike, staring up at Fairen and the others with wide eyes.

"What are you doing here? I didn't know you were qualified to babysit," Fairen mentioned, bending down in front of the kids to try and seen less intimidating.

"Hah, the teach is qualified for many things," Vaike said, struggling as the children seemed to squirm again. Suddenly, the younger one managed to slide out of Vaike's grip, and Vaike tripped for a second to reach out for him. "Sorry. That one's Finnus and this here's Quinn. They're my young cousins."

"Who are you?" Asked Quinn quietly.

"Well, my name's Fairen," Fairen answered softly and with kindness, "and this here's Sumia and Stahl,"

"Hi," Stahl said.

"Hello there," Sumia replied with a small wave, beaming at the cuteness before her.

"Remember those stories about me and Prince Chrom adventuring through the countryside I've been telling you? These guys were there too."

"Yeah, and probably in a supporting role by your account, no less," Fairen jabbed.

Vaike buffed his nails on his shirt then examined his handiwork. "Well, there ain' any better way to support the teach while he mows down his enemies with strength and skill!"

He blinked, then realized something as he lunged towards one of the market stalls. "Lily! Don't touch that! That's not yours!"

A girl with long, light-brown hair, perhaps ten or twelve, stood still holding a ripe melon in her hands, scowling as she put it back. Vaike had to turn the other way as Finnus somehow managed to open the bag of a young lady nearby and spill its contents.

"Looks like Vaike has his hands full," Sumia said, watching the chaos unfold.

"I never thought he had it in him to look after kids," Stahl said, folding his arms.

"What, you didn't think he'd be good at it?" Fairen asked.

Stahl made a face. "N-No, it's just I didn't know if he was able to or not.

"Would you guys mind giving me a hand while you're here?" Vaike called out, having gotten a hold of Lily and Finnus but let Quinn get away as the boy dashed towards a roasted chicken stall.

"Nah, we're good giving you support from this distance," Fairen said, cracking a grin.

"For a second I thought those were his children, I'll admit," Sumia said discreetly as Vaike chased after the third child.

Fairen snorted. Stahl turned and gawked at Sumia.

"W-What?" Sumia asked, defensive. "Don't tell me you didn't think that at first too!"

"Well…" Stahl said, sheepishly scratching his cheek while considering his answer.

Fairen just smiled at the free entertainment before him. "Not in a million years."

Just then, Fairen paused. He felt as if lightning struck through him.

"What? What is it?" Stahl asked.

"I just figured out what I'm going to get Lissa." Fairen said, finally stepping forward to help Vaike with the rodeo.


September 4th was the day of the party.

Fairen came to the castle courtyard idly adjusting his collar at the stone archway entrance. He felt the breeze pass over with naught a hint of summer's warmth, his hair stylized in a trio of spikes over his front, the sides of his head combed over and kept in place with a gel-like substance. He got a special treatment at a salon that Keele recommended (forced) him to go to after receiving Fairen's last-minute request to tailor him some high-class dance wear (to which Keele took as a grand challenge rather than responding with anger). The evening air was cooling rapidly with the sun setting on the horizon giving way to the autumn stars. Many of the trees around the courtyard had their leaves turning yellow and orange, but the lawns were kept clear with the help of the groundskeeper.

He wore a pitch-black cotton jacket fitted to his broad shoulders and tall back. He didn't do up the glass buttons, letting the length of the wear sway as he moved his arms when walking. His undershirt was pure white, and he had a bowtie fitted around the collar sitting neatly at the base of his neck. His ruby pendant created a neat square frame against his chest. Slim black dress pants and shined black dress boots adorned his lower half, the shoelaces thin and short, the toes of the boots elongated to grant an elegant look and efficient step. Fairen couldn't really believe that Keele had managed to gather him such an ensemble in such a short amount of time. Keele merely attributed his work to vague "connections" and sudden inspiration, completely refusing to admit the genius and ingenuity Fairen was experiencing.

Fairen felt the soft coolness of the air buffer him, his clothes protecting him from chills. He spotted the outlines of various party guests milling about the castle's east entrance, figures' outlines against the glow of hall lanterns, guards posted at the archways leading into the castle. He adjusted the hem of his jacket sleeves, examining the fine felt gloves that covered his hands and fingers. Before arriving, he briefly considered bringing a dagger with him and hiding it in the back of his pants. As a Shepherd he knew he wouldn't be screened getting into the courtyard, but thought otherwise. If there was trouble afoot at the party Fairen was confident his fists could do enough dissuasion and persuasion.

He already learned long ago that it was important to fight for what you believe in at noble gatherings regardless of personal political status.

Regardless, he entered the castle and made his way to the ballroom.

The room filled a grand expanse of at least three stories tall with a balcony hanging over the dance floor, giving shade to those within the tables and seating. The royal Ylissian colours of blue and gold painted the walls and ceiling, the floor a pink pearl colour polished to a blinding sheen. Grand windows lined the western wall from the bottom of the space to the top, showing off the end of the castle gardens and training grounds to the left. A large chandelier accompanied by several smaller sisters and brothers was fixed in the center of the ceiling, several diamonds hanging from its arms, reflecting the light from its candles in interesting and mysterious ways.

Calming music swayed through the crowd. Fairen found a quartet of players off in the corner of the room. There were two men in coat jackets and two women in dresses, outfits which were not as high grade as the nobles' fine wear. All of them used string instruments of varying sizes, creating a fine orchestrated timbre within the room in rehearsed harmonies, parallel chords, and complex melodies. At the front of the room was a grand stage covered in a white cloth. On the stage was a large table expanding to near the stage's length with a series of elaborately crafted wooden chairs posted behind the table, the center chair reminiscent of the Exalt's throne in the castle's grand hall. No one was seated, however.

Dozens upon dozens of noble ladies and lords milled about, speaking in hushed, haughty tones to one another. The ladies wore lavish, long dresses made of fine silk and velvet, lines of silver and gold dancing up and down the material. Elaborate stitched designs of house signs were imprinted onto many; those who could afford the cost of a high-skill and precision stitch showed it off handsomely. They wore expensive jewelry, with rings, wedding bands, earrings, necklaces, and hairbands laced with priceless gems. The richest women flashed multiple emeralds, sapphires, garnets, and diamonds, all glittering as symbols of class and wealth. They wore makeup extensively, paling their face, extending their eyelashes, blushing their lips, and painting their nails. Their hair was lavishly done and put up in various styles, either in long locks cascading like fine curtains over their shoulders and balled up into nests towering over their head or curled up in multiple drills and hung in multiple ponytails. Every single one of their outfits was colourful as colourful could be, whereas the average commoner outfit could only settle for drab browns, blacks, and dark greens for their shirts and trousers.

The lords had relatively simpler dressing. They wore fitted, expert long-sleeve shirts in every shade, deep purples and dark blues to gold and orange and red. Many had capes hung from behind against their belts, while others had them over their shoulders. Some men had house emblems pinned onto their chest depicting proud creatures such as horses, eagles and lions, and even more rare animals such as the unicorn, the gryphon and even the dragon. Their jewelry was less so otherwise, with only those who were married having equipped wedding rings or bands. They had thin and simple but expensively tailored pants that were tucked into knee-high boots. Some had customary scabbards to hold their hand around against their hip with no blade held within. Every single one that had the capacity to have facial hair had theirs groomed to a pristine state. Fine mustaches hung off the top of judging upper lips. Beards hung finely trimmed from grizzled jawlines. Some had monocles pinches between their cheek and eyebrow. Every single man carried himself with a self-perceived dignity, pride, and honour, their hair cut short and slicked back or hung neatly behind their ears.

A few of these nobles were wide with wealth and pleasure, Fairen noticed. Some of the ladies walked around with flowery fans imported overseas. Everyone was either with drink in hand, in the process of drinking, or considering a drink from one of the many waiters wandering around with platters of blood red wine. No one sat in their assigned seating, for it was not time and to do so would be a social farce, or at least that was what Fairen assumed. As he moved through the room he heard them speak of families, of laws that they wished the Exalt would import or enforce, bids of social power, wealth, inter-relational squabbles, marriage, recent bandit and Risen attacks, blood, and of those useless, petty plebeians scattered about the streets of Ylisstol and smaller provinces. A couple would turn and glance at him, but those that did turned away and did not mention his presence. They were clearly concerned with something else at the moment, Fairen thought.

He made his way around the edge of the ballroom trying to spot someone familiar. The sounds of the music players fill his head pleasantly against the harsh buzz of people. The first person he noticed was Sully, appearing in something that Fairen thought Sully would rather die than actually wear: a dress. A fancy crimson dress, her face covered in lots of eyeshadow and lipstick. She appeared to have adorned a wig, Fairen figured, as her hair was five times its normal length in a bun that ran down her back. The red cavalier only looked like she somewhat wanted to be dead at the moment. Fairen was certain to try and catch the story of her outfit later; either from Vaike or from Sully herself.

Then, Fairen noticed Virion in the middle of the ball floor looking a little more Virion than normal, his signature cravat hanging proudly from a dark velvet jacket. He was talking up one of the local aristocratic daughters, apparently, although by the evil eye and ominous steps of the old approaching him from behind, Fairen believed Virion wouldn't last for long.

Lastly, he spotted Chrom somewhere near the front stage wearing a handsome, well-fitted jacket closed by buttons across his chest. His whole outfit was white, missing any sort of speck of dirt or battle damage his normal affair carried. Fairen found Chrom's dress to be very similar to what he normally wore, save the colour combination and the long sleeves that extended out from his shoulders. His cape hung over his left shoulder and he had Falchion in its scabbard at his left side hanging from a black belt as one of the only swords present in the space, the only others being the guards' weapons. He approached Chrom for a quick chat about the party and how he and the other Shepherds were faring. Chrom seemed to be a proud brother, although he expressed concern at how the nobles were acting and how they would treat Lissa. Fairen eyed the crowd of aristocrats muttering to themselves and agreed.

The whole entire time, there was no sign of the princess. Fairen asked Chrom and was told she was getting ready for her entrance.

Fairen went back to pacing. Awareness about his presence seemed to finally catch and spread quickly across the room. He overheard many of the nobles whispering to one another, not-so-subtly looking towards him and trying to use their wine glasses to hide their words (as if Fairen couldn't hear what they were saying if he focused). They spoke about his past actions as a Shepherd, his somewhat new standing as its Tactician, and the kinds of things they heard him do on the battlefield. Fairen heard some of them accuse him of having a blazing hot anger that caused him to cruelly massacre his enemies, and that he was an outsider to the realm that Prince Chrom recruited solely for the reason that Fairen was strong and ruthless in battle. Otherwise, they had no idea why he was in the Shepherds in the first place. Fairen kept no important mind to the gossip of the nobles, safe for the silent acknowledgement that he does get heated in the middle of combat. He still found their unwanted comments irritating.

By the time the sun had completely hidden itself on the horizon of the castle walls Fairen had managed to do a fairly good job at avoiding any kind of long conversation. A couple nobles had tried to engage, with others attempting to create drama by accusing him of some preposterous wrongdoing regarding his position in the Shepherds. To both, Fairen shot down expertly, being aware of exactly how to speak to the rich and make them hear what they want to hear without actually agreeing to anything. The whole situation made him scratch the back of his head in discomfort.

Fairen ended up casually leaning on a supporting pillar beneath the balcony overlooking the dance floor, arms folded. He withheld a yawn and began eyeballing the empty tables near the doors to the kitchen with the castle workers milling about nearby. His stomach cried out in wanton attention and demand, but he inwardly told it to shut up. He managed to isolate himself in his quiet little corner of the room when someone tapped him on his shoulder. He blinked and turned around.

There was a maid in a frock and hat standing before him with a gentle smile. Her hair was silky and shined a light green glow, healthy and blessed.

"Milord," the maid spoke in a soft yet familiar voice while bowing. "There is someone important that wishes to speak with you."

"Really?" Fairen asked. "Well, who is it?"

"The exalt herself wishes you to her presence," the maid said.

"Her majesty?" Fairen blinked, wondering what the exalt could want with him. He better examined the maid, something deep in his gut telling him something was off. There was a glitter in her expression that told a story beyond the surface of her gentle smile. Her brown eyes were comforting, soft, and kind. Her cheekbones rode high and elegant, and he realized he'd seem the same facial structure on Chrom… and Lissa too. It hit him.

"Lady Emmeryn?" Fairen said very quietly.

"Yes, she wishes to speak with you," she repeated, smirking.

"No, I mean you're Emmeryn, I mean, your majesty, I mean… Ugh," Fairen stuttered, throwing his arms up in surrender. He told himself that the only reason he hadn't noticed it immediately was because he wasn't used to seeing the woman without her shawl and blush. Then he considered the subtle way she curved her voice to enunciate in a tone and volume unlike how she normally sounded. He quickly scoured around the two of them to make sure no one else was watching.

The maid giggled and then curtsied. "I see that sharp mind works well for the position of tactician."

"What are you doing in a maid's outfit?" Fairen asked, walking closer so he could be more discreet. "Having a bit of fun before Lissa comes out?"

"Of the sorts," Emmeryn said, innocently placing a finger on her chin and giving Fairen a mischievous look.

"Now I know where Lissa got her pranking from," Fairen said with a scoff and grin, folding his arms.

"It is a rare occurrence where I am given the opportunity to do this," Emmeryn said. She gestured to the waiters and maids in the rest of the ballroom. "Disguising myself like this allows me to blend in and see what my subjects are truly like. My status as the Exalt unfortunately limits interactions with those around me. They would rather applaud or curse me by my family name as supposed to speaking truthfully. Either way, I do not get a trite glance at who they are. With the disguise, I can better see their honest selves."

"Ah," Fairen sounded aloud. "You want to see up close how people interact. Ylissians interacting in their natural environment."

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes. It also allows me a brief repose from my duties."

Fairen gave an impressed frown with a nod. "I see. I just find it funny that you'd go so far for nobles. I understand wanting to know the average Ylissian's position when you're so far away, but those stuck-up crazy idiots?"

"They are as not as bad as they seem," Emmeryn said. "Some, but very few, of their words carry actual weight. And any position away from my own is still worth examining."

"I can get behind that," Fairen agreed.

"But I have been looking for you for a time, Fairen," Emmeryn said, tone sobering. "I feel as if have not been able to get many opportunities to speak to you face-to-face." She suddenly looked up at him with a seriousness previously unseen. "I would like to thank you for all your hard work with the Shepherds," she said, bowing slightly, "organizing them and keeping spirits high. Your activities have made Chrom's days much easier on him. He speaks of you much. So, thank you."

Fairen takes a shocked step back. "M-Milady, you don't have to say so much! I'm just doing my job!"

She gave him a gentle smile. "But it is the case that you do your job well. I receive reports about the Shepherd's activities and hear their adventures from Chrom himself, but I also have been sometimes able to observe how everything is going myself. Vaike is much happier with a sparring partner with your skill and ethic that's willing to work with him. Lon'qu has had an easier time settling in because of your training. Virion and Stahl are in higher spirits from the time you spend with them through tea and board games. And you are single-handedly increasing Miriel's recovery in her physiotherapy efforts."

Fairen took a moment to organize his thoughts, folding his arms. "You've seen all that, huh?"

Emmeryn nodded. "As the Shepherd's tactician, you are a key piece in our kingdom's future, and a key piece in Chrom and Lissa's lives, thus a piece in mine. I cannot express enough how grateful I am for you to have joined us and lent us your battle strength, knowledge, and wisdom. Once again, thank you."

Fairen shook his head, conflicted. He couldn't meet her gaze, not truly. Every time his eyes fixated on her pure and honest expression, he felt a well of darkness pool inside him at his behavioural farce. He thought she believed in things that weren't necessarily there.

"I..." Emmeryn met his eyes. "Thank you," he said almost breathlessly in a whisper, trying his best to not sound like he was dishonest.

"And thank you for keeping an eye out on Lissa, among other things," she added with an unknown glint in her eye and a smirk.

"Sure?" Fairen half-questioned, half-affirmed, not sure how to take her words.

"Well then." Maid Emmeryn gave a friendly tilt of her head. "I do believe it is time for me to go. If I stay too long in one location others may get suspicious."

"Yeah," Fairen agreed, looking around to see if anyone caught their conversation. "Will I see you later at the party?"

"I'll be walking out with Lissa for her appearance in twenty minutes," Emmeryn said.

You can change out of that outfit and into your usual affair that fast? Fairen pondered, impressed.

With a bow, Emmeryn bid Fairen adieu, leaving him to consider the nobles within the party and how they stood little for Lissa and more for what she represents.


A waiter rang a bell and all the partygoers stopped to pay attention. The waiter stood near the front at the stage and gave a long-winded announcement of Lissa's arrival including all of her royal titles, many of which Fairen was unaware of.

At the waiter's following silence, Lissa emerged from the doors to the left of the front stage with Emmeryn right behind her. Fairen's eyebrows rose. Lissa wore a beautiful daisy yellow dress with white trim and frills. Gold ribbons hung against the skirt of her dress in crossing patterns. White lace wrapped around her midsection, where her waist was being clearly squeezed by a corset. The shoulders were puffed up like fluffy balls of cotton, and she wore long daisy-shaded gloves over her forearms and hands. A masterful, elaborate stitch of a repeating flower pattern was crossed into the skirt. Fairen was a bit surprised at how much white Lissa incorporated into her attire, although he then considered how it was most likely Keele's decision and not her's.

She still had that framed cotton wreath atop her head sitting beneath her tiara. But Fairen found her hairdresser to bring out the length in her hair, her usual pigtails pushed longer and thinner, allowing strands to hang elegantly towards her shoulders and back. She also had additional branching ponytails at the sides of her head, creating a more regal feel to her style, her bangs no longer framing her face against her temples. Her makeup paled her complexion, and she wore eyeliner to sharpen the definition of her eye.

Her one eye.

An eyepatch crossed over her left eye, the other one. The patch was white and unstained, designed to fit her entire outfit but still sticking out like a thorn on a rose. The Mark of the Exalt was stitched into the eyepiece as two strands of lace wrapped around the left side of her face and a third went the other direction across the top of her nose.

Lissa held herself close, her hands clasping tight against the front of her dress. She went up the stage steps and crossed, and after reaching her seat at the center table she glanced once at the crowd before shying to stare at the tablecloth instead. Her shoulders hunched together; a frown was pursed upon her lips. Emmeryn, wearing almost her normal regal attire save for a more elaborate robe, sat next to Lissa, lips curving down on her normally peaceful face. Fairen realised Chrom took his place at Lissa's other side and was sharing a look with his older sister. From what Fairen knew about Chrom and his standard chummy, smooth charisma, Chrom was absolutely livid, a stern scowl dotting his eyebrows. Emmeryn, the pacifist she was, only looked in deep concern for what Fairen believed to be disappointment.

Fairen didn't blame Emmeryn's mood. He didn't blame Chrom's anger or Lissa's timidity either. He could see the stares of the nobles, hear them as they whispered between each other.

"That's what happened to our fine princess?"

"What in Naga's light did they do to her face?"

"I didn't think it would be something so marring!"

"How abhorrent!"

"Her purity's been ruined!"

"She will never find a respectable suitor now."

"Such a scarred visage..."

Fairen kept his face stable, but his glove audibly crinkled from his fist clenching. The announcing waiter told the party food would be served immediately, with maids rolling trollies out of the kitchen. Fairen took an abandoned table off in the corner of the ball room and waited to be served.

The meal was beautiful, that was certain. The castle served the finest hunted bird and boar, cooked to a perfect golden brown, doused in all kinds of rich dressings. But Fairen felt the taste of the food dulled while thinking about Lissa sitting on the stage. He'd glance at her on occasion. She barely touched her own serving.

Finally, the meal ended, and the head chef stepped out to introduce the birthday cake. Lissa seemed to perk up at the news, and watched with wide eyes as a quadruple-layer strawberry and vanilla confection, stacked higher than Fairen could stand, was carefully escorted out to the main table. A round of applause went for the head chef, to which he bowed and twirled his moustache in a satisfying fashion, a smirk evident on his bottom lip. Even Fairen was impressed.

Suddenly, a maid was at Lissa's side. There was a brief exchange before Lissa got up with a look of mild frustration. Chrom grabbed Lissa's attention, but Fairen couldn't accurately read his lips from that distance. Lissa shook her head and started to follow the maid, maneuvering around the table then down the steps of the stage.

Just as she reached the bottom, a sizable crowd of nobles scurried to her position in an almost overwhelming fashion. Fairen spotted Lissa's eyes going wide at the ambush before she was hidden by a wave of overly complex hair stylings and hats. Two guards stepped into the circle of people, but Fairen still got up from his seat and immediately began walking straight across the room. Before he could get anywhere near, some of the nobles dispersed and Lissa was led by the maid to a doorway into a hall followed by what appeared to be a young man in a blue vest.

Fairen rose an eyebrow then exhaled, not able to follow in any manner without attracting attention. He didn't have the sneakiness of a thief, after all. But he did notice some aristocrats leave the room as well, although not through the same direction as Lissa did.

He eyed the slice of strawberry cake sitting at Lissa's spot on the table, undisturbed.

It was twenty minutes later by Fairen's account when time Lissa made it back to the ballroom. She came in through the same doorway she left sans the young man, but the maid was still with her, this time following from behind. Almost immediately, every noble in the room turned towards her and a large group once again began to converge on her location. Fairen saw Lissa's expression freeze like glassy ice trying to hide her panic. Suddenly, on the opposite side of the room, there was a clatter followed by the shattering of glass. Sully was at the scene in her gawdy, unfitting dress holding Virion by the collar in a death grip, a servant nearby standing in shock with a platter and spilt drink on the floor, the wine bottle in pieces.

In the moment of confusion, Fairen stepped in between the pillars Lissa stood in and grabbed her hand. She opened her mouth to protest before Fairen shifted in her view with a finger on his lips and gently pulled her away from the action back into the hallway.

It was only the click-clack of high-heels and dress shoes that filled the hallways, the ambiance of the party slowly fading in the background as Fairen and Lissa got further and further away, Fairen seemingly knowing where he was going as he towed Lissa through the Castle's maze-like interior.

"Where are we going?" Lissa cried, having to hold up her skirt so she could keep up. They would pass by guards that were either patrolling or standing near doorways. She saw some of them turn their head curiously, but none stopped them.

Fairen twisted his head toward her, still jogging. "Looked like you needed some fresh air." He gave her a smile that Lissa found unusually roguish.

He suddenly stopped, holding out his arm and catching her with his bicep. She let out an oof and gave a stern look before Fairen held his finger to his lips again and gestured forward. They were in the grand hall. Near the entrance were some nobles loitering around, unaware of the two Shepherds. Fairen gave Lissa a short chuckle before immediately turning left back into another passageway.

As Lissa found herself running again, her eyes darted several times to where she and Fairen's hand connected, clasped around one another.

She had no doubts as to their current relative location, having grown up in the castle, but wondered if Fairen was actually leading her on a wild goose chase. She abruptly recognized the stone arches of the eastern entrance and then the two of them burst outside.

Lissa found herself under a blanket of stars occupying the night sky. The sun was gone, with the only light left coming from the castle windows, halls, guards with torches, and the lanterns hanging about the castle pathway. Fairen slowed down and gentled his grip to a tentative hold, his finger lightly pinching hers.

"Much better than that stuffy party," Fairen said aloud, still leading her. Then she realized where he was leading to exactly.

They were walking into the castle gardens, a marvel of botany upkept by generations upon generations of Ylissian royalty. Lissa recalled the garden grew so wide that her great-great-great grandmother had to write a decree to get the castle staff to help tend it, and ever since the flowers have bloomed even further out. Lissa herself didn't care for gardening, but it was a tradition for her family at this point to keep the garden in some capacity. Daisies, roses, chrysanthemums, poppies, and many other flowers blossomed around multiple curving stone pathways through fertile and regularly watered dirt. During the day, the garden absolutely glowed with colour, with bright yellows and white, vibrant oranges and pinks, and deep reds and violets littered the landscape. Lissa had memories of exploring the plants' expanse as a young girl, with Emmeryn following closely behind her, the royal attendant Michelle replacing Emm when she couldn't be there. She remembered how she'd get into trouble falling into the plants, and felt lucky that she never had any allergies to pollen. Often, she'd get a scolding by the guards if she was out alone and was prancing around the posies, but her child mind couldn't stop gravitating to the soft feeling of flower petals cushioning her falls into the bountiful brush, their stalks and leaves lifting her from the ground.

Fairen took her over to a lone bench in the middle of a paved berth. The surroundings were filled by Ylissian Lilies, full in bloom as sun-gold dancers in the dark. A single lit lamp stood behind the bench only casting a light glow directly below against the bench. His legs gave out and he sat harshly, letting out a breath of air, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back with a lazy smile. Lissa followed him soon after, surprising herself to find that she was just as tired, almost collapsing onto the wooden planks herself. She sat at the opposite end of the bench, her right elbow on the painted metal bench arm and let out a short sigh herself.

"Soooo much better," Fairen said languidly.

"You said it," Lissa finally allowed herself to admit after a brief pause, sagging in her seat.

"Heh, yeah, you really looked like you needed a break from all that," he commented, rolling his head to look at her.

"No kidding!" Lissa started. "You'd think I'd be used to noble hounding me like that, but noooo. I mean, I grew up seeing the nobles demanding Emm to 'raise taxes for the commoners,'" she said in a low voice, "and 'increase tariffs'. But…"

"You weren't prepared," Fairen finished, although he posed it as much as a question as it was a statement.

Lissa shook her head. "They bothered me when I was a kid too, promise me things like jewelry and dresses if I did stuff for their family in the name of the Exalt, but I think they were just abusing the fact that I was just a kid. That's when Emm would step in and be a diplomat." Lissa laughed. "Chrom did too, but he just got mad instead."

Fairen threw his arms behind his head, and the corner of his mouth twisted up. "I can imagine that."

"I'm pretty sure it has to do something with my age," Lissa said quietly, looking down with her hands in her lap. "Them being so annoying, I mean. When Chrom got old enough the nobles started bothering him with stuff they couldn't get Emm to do. While with me, the older I get, the more they want me to marry in." She shook her head and shivered. "Ugh. Gross."

Fairen was frowning, but then he perked up. "How old are you anyway?"

Lissa gave him a pout. "What? Don'cha know it's ruuuude to ask a lady her age?"

Fairen scoffed.

"But seriously," Lissa continued, "Didn't you see on the cake?"

"See what? The fifteen-billion candles on that thing? Doesn't that mean you're fifteen-billion years of age?"

"No!" Lissa folded her arms. "I'm turning seventeen."

"Oh."

There was a beat.

"Oh!" he suddenly cried out, putting a finger up. "Speaking of cake…"

Lissa stared with curiosity as Fairen bent and reached beneath the bench. He emerged holding a slice of strawberry cake.

"Ta-da!" He said, holding out his cake to Lissa, presenting it in glory.

She gawked. "Where did you get that?!"

"I kept it in the back of my pants then while you were distracted put it under the bench."

Lissa snorted.

"Just kidding. I grabbed it after you left the party with that maid and that weird guy," Fairen said. He examined the slice from all sides. "Before you came back I got some cake and planted it under the bench. It also gave me time to talk to Sully and Virion."

"You set that up?" Lissa said, thinking back to how Sully seemed ready to pound Virion's face in.

Fairen showed his pearly whites. "Yep. Told them how the party was treating you and that you didn't get to have cake yet. Sully seemed to agree that the nobles were being a bunch of assholes, and Virion was willing to do anything for the sake of a little posturing and stirring the aristocratic pot."

Lissa blinked several times as she received the slice of cake, fork on the plate and everything. She slowly went from the cake to Fairen with a blank look.

"What? Aren't you gonna try some?" Fairen asked, reaching again beneath the bench and grabbing a second slice. He poked into the cake with his utensil and took a bite. "S'good!"

Lissa gave a stunned look at her cake, then grabbed her fork, stabbed the confectionary, and ate.

"Mmm!" she squeaked with joy. "This is good!"

"There. The princess gets to have her cake and eat it too." Fairen said smugly.

"Psh. I could have cake any time I wanted," Lissa said, rolling her eye.

"But you choose not to," Fairen pointed out, poking his fork in Lissa's direction. "You could have almost anything in the world, but instead you keep it to yourself for most things. Well. Maybe except candy. But otherwise most things. That's called being humble."

Lissa didn't want to think about all the things she got frivolously that Fairen didn't know about.

"Hmm," Fairen sounded out while chewing. He eyed his cake from an odd angle. "I'm just glad it isn't crawling with bugs. You'd think storing cake in a garden would be a bad idea."

Lissa stopped mid-chew as she stared at her slice. Fairen burst out into laughter. Lissa gave him a dirty look.

"You're kidding, right?" Lissa said when she could. "You put a spell or something around the cake to keep it clean."

"Nope."

Lissa bugged out.

"Relax," Fairen said, nudging her foot with his. "I already checked if there was anything on it. It's fine."

"What if something crawled inside?" Lissa said with panic.

"There's more than one way of checking a piece of cake," Fairen stated wisely.

He had that knowing look in his eye again, one that Lissa's seen countless times by now and one that she has never been able to read.

"Ooh, I've just about had enough with your shenanigans for one night!" she cried aloud.

He chuckled. "Think of it as getting even for all the times you've stuffed an amphibian into my belongings."

Lissa's mouth closed shut as she sat ramrod straight, unable to force any sort of words through her mouth. Her cheeks burned.

"Ahh, but this," Fairen exhaled, leaning against the corner where the back of the bench and the bench arm met, "this is the life. Eating cake, looking up at the stars in the free sky."

"Yeah," Lissa agreed quietly. She peered up into the universe's painting of twinkling lights and ancestors past, deep in thought.

For a moment, there was quiet.

"You know, I don't mind talking to the nobles so much."

"You don't?" Fairen said.

"No," Lissa finalized. "Some of them are alright once you get to know them. I wouldn't have become such good friends with Maribelle if she hadn't been willing."

"Glad you think so," Fairen commented, halfway done his cake.

"Some of them though, ooh," Lissa growled. "I'm happy that Chrom and Emm are giving me more and more duties every year, but I don't enjoy having to speak to the ones that are massive weirdos. You know, how do you deal with it, Fairen? How do you deal with their stuck-up egos and inflated attitudes? You seem to be fine around them. Don't they bother you when they, oh, I dunno, ask you about your upbringing or your position in the Shepherds?"

"They don't talk much to me," Fairen admitted with a shrug,

"But I've seen them speak to you around the castle," Lissa said, "You remember! Like when it was time for court and Emm has to listen to the Ylissian's pleas and demands! I've seen some of them walk up to you and then walk away and you act like nothing happened!"

"They don't say much."

"Really?" Lissa threw her arms up. "They don't insult your foreignness? Or the fact that you seemingly came from nowhere and now you're number two in the Shepherds? Did you know that there are rumours about you being some sort of Plegian spy and that you're going to eventually betray the kingdom by stabbing Chrom in the back?"

"Oh, I know," Fairen said.

"Then how does that not bother you?!" Lissa demanded to know.

"They're just people, Lissa," Fairen calmly, softly said. "They can't do much to me."

"They can, you know," Lissa disagreed. "They're a part of the high class for a reason. They have money, and they have power. If one of them wanted you gone, even if you're a part of the Shepherds we would have a hard time trying figure out who and stop them from forging a crime and getting you kicked out, or even them assassinating you."

"I would like to see them try," Fairen said, amused. "But they're still just people, Lissa. They may have power within the social hierarchy, but in the end that's about it. Would they have any power out in the wild? The lions and lynxes don't care. They wyverns don't care about their money. And if they were in the middle of the battlefield all the money and private tutoring in the world wouldn't stop them from getting a blade in the back.

"They all have their faults and failings," he continued. His gaze went from her to the flower garden. "Just as you have yours and I have mine. If I ever see them looking at me with contempt and evil in their eyes all I have to think about is how small they are compared to the rest of the world, compared to the big picture. Whatever they think or say or do doesn't matter. They're tiny, tiny people."

Lissa said nothing. The lilies swayed in the cool breeze. Fairen closed his eyes, then after a moment opened and met Lissa's gaze. He found her eyebrows creased in sadness.

"You know, I've had to deal with a lot of noble bullshittery during my time as Archmage," Fairen said, leaning forward, elbow to knee. "I've gotten a lot of demands to start projects on, oh, say, magic to better control peasants on a farm. Or to research the effects of special magic to artificially increase production. Anything to give them the upper edge against the other aristocrats. But even before that, they'd bother me as a page."

That seemed to startle Lissa out of her localized rainstorm. "You were a page?" she asked, boggling at him.

He nodded solemnly. "When I was a boy, I... well, I was sent off to the royal castle after my magic surged suddenly. I was around ten. A battlemage in the king's army took me under her wing to train me in the arts of spells and armory."

She couldn't believe her ears. She heard how hard Stahl and Sully's training was to become knights compared to Chrom's princely lessons, and she already thought Chrom's were harsh.

"It was rough, it really was," Fairen said, his voice gaining slight gravel. "I spent countless restless hours practicing spells over and over again and learning their equations, their properties. I learned how to wear mage's robes and upkeep the enchantments woven in them, and I learned the differences between casting with a sword, staff, wand, you name it. But while I was training I also had to perform in front of the royal family. There were these… competitions, where all the various battlemages and wizards got together to compete. They would fight in one-on-one duels and the ones who were victorious would gain favour from the crown."

Lissa listened with rapt, infallible attention.

"But they also got us involved. There would be a pages-only tournament each year, and I would have to fight my way out over and over again. I was severely injured several times. Some of the pages, friends I knew, even died."

"That's horrible," Lissa said.

"But because of the competitions, I'd get noblewomen and noblemen coming up to me to butter me up to fight for them. 'Fight under our name," they'd say, 'win for us and I can give you all the gold in the world, boy.' I had to ignore them, because my teacher would have executed me if I ever allied with one of them myself, but I'd probably be killed first by the king because the nobles always encouraged me to cheat using some enchanted item they would try to give me.

"I had a lot of time to build up my resistance to them," Fairen finished, giving Lissa a weak smile.

Lissa bit her cheek in consideration. "I definitely think Chrom and Emm took the brunt of the royal duties and ended up dealing with most of the nobles for me. That's why I think it's so hard for me to deal with them. I've barely had to think about them until now."

Both of their plates were empty by now. Both sat on their laps until Lissa put hers on the ground beside the bench for the ants to find. Fairen decided to do so as well.

"I… heard them saying things about me," Lissa said softly, her voice wavering. Fairen's gaze sharpened in attention. "About… my eye. Ever since we got back from Ferox, all they ever talk about is my eye." She lifted her head to him. There were slivers of moisture in the corners of her vision. "But this party. When I walked out onto the stage. They were all staring at me, talking to each other as if I couldn't hear them, as if I couldn't see what they were doing."

She tried to hold in a sniffle. "That was the worst. It's my birthday, and all they can talk about is my eye and the stupid patch over it? I—"

She held herself back.

"Hey."

Lissa brought her attention to him.

"It's ok. The patch is fine. They're just small people looking for something to point at."

She kept sniffling. His words didn't help.

"Can… Can I see it?"

She froze in surprise. Then, she shivered, but couldn't bring herself to turn away. She stared at him, and he could clearly see his reflection in her one, teary eye.

"Please?" he asked nicely, quietly.

She dipped her head down. Then slowly, she reached up with her right hand and pulled back the bottom of her eyepatch until it rested on her forehead.

There was a scarred gash travelling diagonally from the upper-inside corner to the bottom left. It went directly over the eyeball. When she would blink there was no sign of a wound on the eyelid. Instead, the inside of her eye was a pale milky grey, a mournful hue replacing dazzling emerald. A jagged line was drawn through the pupil in the direction the scar traveled. Her eyes followed Fairen, but the damaged pupil didn't seem to see him at all. It didn't react to the firelight against the garden.

She startled when she realized he was reaching towards her. His left hand slowly traveled to her cheek when he stopped with a jolt and pulled back slightly, as if he burned himself. Her gaze idled on his hand, then she turned to him. His eyebrows creased in… Confusion? Concern? She couldn't tell. But as he pulled his hand back, she couldn't help but wish desperately that he didn't just stop, and instead kept going to rest his palm against her. She imagined herself being able to lean in to that large, strong hand, worn with calluses from training and battle, and allowing herself to fall and roll into his embrace. She imagined that, and her heart ached.

"You're still beautiful to me," he said.

Her eyes widened, then softened beneath the light of the lantern and Fairen's comforting visage.

It was only but a moment, but that moment felt to her like it was the only moment that ever mattered.

It was a moment that she would have given anything to last forever.

Fairen let his arm fall. "I don't think you need to worry about what the nobles think. From what I can tell, all they want to do is get you into their families for power. That's petty and foolish. It's not worth your energy."

Lissa considered this for a moment. And then a second. Then, she smiled. "You know what? I think you're right. It is petty and it is foolish, and I think all those nobles can go eat a pile of pegasus manure!"

Fairen laughed. "There you go."

He grinned back at her.

Lissa forgot all about the world. It was only just the two of them in that tiny corner of the castle garden. The wind shifted all around them.

"Oh!" Fairen said with a start. "I almost forgot." He reached behind the bench again. "I know that you're supposed to be opening presents after dinner, but I thought this would be the perfect time to give you mine."

He presented to her a small, assuming wooden chest, the metal containing the wood free of rust.

"Oh," she said, not knowing what else to say. "Thanks."

She took the chest in her lap, flipped up the clasps and lifted the top. Inside was a shining green orb sitting on a small purple cushion. The insides of the orb's glass were filled with shimmering stars.

"You got me a Mend orb?" Lissa said incredulously.

"Yeah," Fairen responded. "It's to repay you for the Heal orb you broke healing me from all the way back when."

Lissa's laugh choked in her surprise as she turned back to Fairen. "I thought you were never going to pay me back."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I did forget for a bit. But when I was looking for a present for you I realized that a Heal orb just wouldn't cut it anymore. You've gotten a lot better since that battle north of Southtown."

Somehow that brought even more blush out of her. "Heh, you really think so, huh?"

"Heck yeah. You heal all our wounds with ease."

"Well, I appreciate it," Lissa stated, firmly closing the chest, beaming. "Thank you for the gift, Fairen."

"Wait, wait," Fairen stopped her, holding a finger up. "I've got one more thing for you."

"One more?" Lissa asked, putting the chest holding the orb aside. "Are you trying to spoil me? Because I'm not sure how well you can spoil me, a princess. You know, someone who can get anything? I thought we just covered this!"

Fairen brought out a small plain white box. It had a single red ribbon on top tied nicely into a loop. "I know. But this is something you can't get from any ol' market, trust me."

She received the box, watching it with curiosity. The pure pearly whiteness of the box was a sight to behold. "Where did you get something like this?"

"Trade secret," Fairen said, winking.

"Fine then," she dismissed with a huff. "Keep your secrets."

She tugged on the ribbon and it easily unraveled. The box seemed to have a paper-esque constitution and was folded over at the top. Lissa pulled away the folds and peered inside the box.

There was an amulet. She stuck a hand in and gently lifted the amulet out. It was made of pewter in the shape of a dragon, the chain silver. There was a tiny jade jewel where the eye was that glittered mystically.

"It's so pretty," Lissa said, cradling the necklace in her palms.

"Try it on," Fairen said oddly eager, leaning towards Lissa.

Lissa eyed him, then unclasped the amulet's chain and brought it around her neck. When she reconnected the metal, there was a flash of energy that surged through her like a bolt of lightning. She examined her hands and could feel a concentration of power vaguely surrounding her figure. When she looked down, the necklace was glowing a faint blue, painting her face in a neon aura.

"What did you do?"

Fairen grinned ear to ear. "That's an enchanted piece of jewellery. It's designed to protect you from physical blows and redirect magical forces. It's for when we're in battle and something attacks you and I'm not around. Or if someone ambushes you. As long as you're wearing that necklace and the charge is still good, it'll protect you."

Lissa stared wide-eyed, first at the pewter dragon then at Fairen. "How did you get something like this? Where did you get something like this?"

"I made it," Fairen said, smirking devilishly.

Lissa blinked, then scrambled to understand those three simple words. "What in Naga's name does that mean? What kind of ancient, forgotten magic makes an amulet resist damage for the owner? Only something stupidly old and powerful could have an enchantment like that."

Fairen watched her speak, oozing smugness.

"I thought you had gone and raided an old Ylissian ruin, but—" Lissa continued until suddenly stopping. She narrowed her gaze. "You didn't use your own magic, right?" she said accusingly, dangerously.

Fairen gave a knowing shrug.

"You idiot!" Lissa screeched, trying to hit Fairen over the head with her fist, to which he let her once before raising his arms in defence. "You're not supposed to use your own magic until your soul heals!"

"Ah, but that's the thing," Fairen said. He shifted closer to Lissa on one side and lifted up a palm. A ball of fire suddenly jutted from the curve between Fairen's fingers and the top of his wrist. "I have healed. A substantial amount, in fact."

He flicked his hand towards Lissa and the fireball lazily floated towards her. Lissa pressed herself against the back of the bench, eyes wide, until the fire connected with her dress. Suddenly, a high-pitched bell ring echoed, and the fireball spread heat across Lissa, its flames jutting out in all directions until it dissipated, leaving Lissa glowing in the same hazed blue the amulet was surrounded with. The heat never even reached her. She stared at Fairen.

"See?" He said, shrugging, smiling.

Suddenly, Fairen was surrounded in a sea of yellow and white fabric.

"Thank you!" Lissa said, holding Fairen tight, her arms thrown around his head. She was hanging off him a bit, and he tensed to stabilize himself. "Thank you, so, so much. I can't believe…"

Fairen lightly placed his hands on her waist, not really knowing what to do with them. He laughed nervously. "Heh, it's fine, you know. It's your birthday, and… Are you crying?"

She pulled away and sniffled. Wet rivets were trailing down her cheeks, and she wiped one away with the palm of her hand, trying not to smudge her eyeliner. "Maybe."

"What? Why?" Fairen asked. Then, he scoffed. "You don't have to cry."

"It's just," she started, sniffing, looking up at him with reddening eyes. "Your gifts are so perfect. It's everything I could have wanted. I kind of wish I had something to give you now."

"It's your birthday, silly!" Fairen laughed. "Of course you're going to get gifts. You don't have to get me anything."

She wiped up the rest of her tears. "I guess." She still sounded stuffed up. "Dang it. I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Now I probably look like a mess."

Fairen took a fair glance at her. She was messier than before, but… "You're fine."

She gave off one last sniffle before Fairen spotted a glint in her eye. "Well, I guess that means I have to gift you just as well when your birthday comes. Speaking of which, when is it again?"

"The first day of winter," Fairen replied.

"The winter solstice?"

"Yep," he said, nodding.

"Well, Fairen, looks like you've just made a birthday enemy out of me," Lissa declared, grinning.

For them, it was just the night and open air. Lissa watched Fairen crane his head upward, and she followed. The glitter of scattered stars shined spectacularly despite the shine of the lantern lamp behind the bench. They could hear naught but the gentle sway of the flowers from the slow dancing breeze, waves of yellow doused in orange lamplight. Cosmic entities blinked and shuttered in amazing endless darkness within the open sky, glowing in separate pulses, connected by invisible lines that Lissa knew from the navigation books Chrom shared with her as a kid from his private lessons. The Chariot. The Dove. Ogma's Valour. All constellations Lissa vaguely knew from shady memories brought up-front due to the man beside her.

And she could not help but look again. At the way his slightly slanted eyes framed his face. At how his tiny cute freckles dotted around his upper cheeks and crowded his elegantly slanted nose that ended in a widened tip she couldn't help but find adorable. How his triangular eyebrows always pointed down but was enough to signify his emotions at any given moment, as he shown them without restraint and with full honesty, something she came to deeply appreciate. How the gleam of light bounced off his brown eyes that would flash a fiery blue every time he had one of his brilliant thoughts or was deep in battle. How the mess of hair on his head, currently somewhat controlled and styled to fit the party, was still somehow a mop of handsome boyish untidiness that dared to rebel against any constrains given and hang pointed above the top of his head.

The sure-fire grin he would normally send her in the midst of his wisdom or action, the expression that she found to fill her with wonder and fluttering joy, was missing. She found it strange. He seemed to be searching for something, looking up at the sky, his mouth parted slightly. The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so subtly, and he was too still. His left hand firmly grasped the shining jewel hanging around his neck, the ruby and sapphire of the pendant hidden beneath long, scarred fingers.

"Is everything alright?" Lissa asked softly.

Fairen almost jumped, looking side-to-side before settling his head towards her. "Wha-what? Who? Me?"

"Yeah."

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You looked... sad."

"Nah," he said, with a disagreeing frown. "I'm fine. Really," he opened his palm to show her his pendant, "I'm just considering how we both have necklaces now."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Ok," she simply said.

Lissa believed she could still sense a lingering, strange sorrow permeating his stature.

"This is the best, right?" Fairen abruptly asked, as if reading her own thoughts about his aura and tried to rapidly change the subject.

"It really is," Lissa said almost breathlessly, looking back up at the sky.

Suddenly, something grabbed Lissa's shoulder. Fairen shifted in his seat to look up behind them.

"Finally," Sully growled, hefting up the princess by the shoulder. "Been lookin' all over for you."

"Ow! Hey!" Lissa winced, getting to her feet. She began to feel Sully pull on her, and as she tried to stand her ground, she found herself to quickly lose to Sully's superior strength. "What's going on?"

"I've been stuck at that boring-ass party full of the stuck-up know-it-alls for that guy over there," Sully explained, gesturing towards Fairen who gave a sheepish grin, "all in the name of giving you a break from those yahoos. I'm up for sticking it up against the other nobles and all, especially after what they were doing to you."

Lissa found herself being dragged south through the garden, her heels digging in the dirt, the bottom of her dress practically shredding against the ground, Fairen following closely behind as Lissa glared at Sully.

"But I had plans of my own, and so did the other Shepherds. You've spent enough time with your damn boy toy. It's time you hung out with the rest of us."

"Boy toy?!" Fairen sputtered.

Lissa glowed a bright tomato red, but brought out her diplomatic side to avoid the obvious jab. "What in Naga's name do you mean? Where are you taking me now?" she growled. "I'm getting a bit tired of being dragged around everywhere."

Sully stopped and let go of Lissa with a huff. Lissa threw her arm out of reach of Sully in protest and shot a dirty look, rubbing the sore spot where Sully had captured her in her claws. "Even though the other Shepherds couldn't attend the party because they weren't freakin' rich enough, we all still planned a second party you could go to. Everyone's waitin' for you at the Golden Bowl. The plan was for you to eat your cake then Virion, Fairen and I would grab you to take you to the real celebration. But captain justice here couldn't stand how those assholes were treatin' you, pulled both Virion and me into his crazy plan, then just left us at the party while he did Naga knows with you in the gardens. We've been waiting forever for you two to get back!"

Lissa looked at Fairen. He awkwardly smiled and shrugged.

"You don't actually want to go back to that stupid party, right?" Sully asked, crossing her arms.

"No, but…" Lissa fidgeted, really thinking about it. Then, she gasped. "Wait! How long have we actually been gone for? I'm gonna be missed!"

Fairen waved his hand. "Don't worry about. Chrom and your sister agreed to schmooze over any remaining nobles that actually tried to follow our exit and promised to keep them busy while you went over to the Shepherd's party. Chrom's going to meet us at some point after."

And it would have been a lot easier to do if Maribelle was actually here and not off on a political rendezvous in Themis, Fairen reflected. All of this could have been potentially avoided if she was here.

Lissa just stared at the tactician. jaw agape. "You planned all this?"

"Getting you away from the nobles was done on the fly, but the pub plan was mostly Sully and Vaike's idea. The others contributed too," Fairen said, nodding at the stalwart red knight standing behind Lissa. Lissa let out a squawk as she was grabbed and towed again.

"Enough talkin'," Sully stated, dragging Lissa. "We've got to get you to the bar already. You need your first drink. It's about time you reached of age."

Fairen paled. "Wait. Seventeen is when you're allowed to drink in Ylisse?"

Sully raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. It's the age everyone starts drinkin'."

"That's too young!"

"No, not really," Sully said. "I even started a little earlier when I was fifteen. In Ferox they give their kids booze when they reach twelve. What, you Plegian or somethin'?"

"No!"

"You sure soundin' like one," Sully explained, turning her nose up at Fairen. "Those warmongerin' asshats keep their people from drinkin' until their twenty-one, and they're already stupid enough with their robbin', murderin', and evil dragon cult."

Fairen felt like he was missing something. There weren't too many books about Plegia within the university library, save for those written about the battles and wars raged against them throughout history. Fairen gave a pleading, deeply confused look towards Lissa. She only gave the exact same shrug and innocent roll of her eyes that Fairen's given her countless times in the past. He bit his lip, considering his next words. He opened his mouth only to pause then suddenly stop and about-face back towards the garden bench.

"Where do you think you're going now?" Lissa said, exasperated as she and Sully approached the end of the garden marked by how the trail reached a cobblestone pathway and the flowers abruptly turned to a finely trimmed grass lawn.

"I gotta grab your orb! Y-Your present orb!" Fairen said speed-walking in the opposite direction. "I'll meet you guys there at the Golden Bowl!"

Lissa facepalmed.


AN: This chapter was very difficult to write. I had to re-do the party scene because I don't know medieval parties and had to do research (for once). Turns out they are old and boring so I did my own thing. Long dialogue scenes are hard.

CLASS CHANGE! (Due to off-screen story-based progression)

Fairen

Class: Recruit = Tactician

Level: 4 – 3 = 1

HP: 24 + 1 = 25

STR: 11 + 1 = 12

MAG: 2 + 9 = 11

SKL: 11 + 1 = 12

SPD: 13 – 1 = 12

LCK: 3 + 2 = 5

DEF: 9

RES: 1 + 7 = 8

MOV: 5

WEAP Level:

Lance = C

NEW: Tome = E

Skills Equipped:

Teamwork: Doubles stats given and received when paired up.