Good day!
This story is my first work after a long, long while being a reader.
I have many other planned stories to put into writing, but for sentimental reasons I wanted my first published work to be for Fire Emblem: Awakening.
I used to have so many ideas that I never had the time to write for real and with things as they are now, I figured now was a great a time as any to try to get into writing (especially FanFiction!) for real and bring to life so many of the stories I only got so far as imagining before.
I hope you enjoy, and if you have feedback please do not hesitate to share!
It is a long accepted fact that, while Exalt Chrom was the one who led the Shepherds, it was Grandmaster Robin who ran it.
Make no mistake, the Exalt was a capable leader and beloved ruler... it was just that the Grandmaster held a greater aptitude for the intricacies, delicacies, and subtleties of command. In a twisted sort of understanding, the Shepherds swore fealty to the Exalt but answered to the Grandmaster; when the Exalt spoke, it was with the Grandmaster's censure - and when the Grandmaster spoke, it was with the Exalt's backing.
As a general rule, the two were close as brothers and did everything as a confident pair, so it wasn't unusual to think of them operating with the authority of the other. Yet, there were some cases where each held more specific duties - namely those that were associated to their title.
The Exalt of Ylisse was no small figure; the head of great country, one that had proven itself superior in countless wars, would no doubt be an important individual. Thus, Chrom's presence was held in demand - from serving as the highest magistrate of the kingdom, to making appearances and visits to public functions and sessions as if to give blessings.
The Grandmaster, on the other hand, would be the second-most important person in all the kingdom; the Exalt's right-hand man and most trusted advisor would handle most of the important issues such as managing the army and assisting in making and adjusting the kingdom's policies and laws. Robin, no less important than his counterpart, was therefore less likely to be in the public eye - though none would dare question his contributions to the country.
The story goes that the two of them had met long before Chrom had taken the throne; when the Exalt had still been a prince, he had found the Grandmaster and took him in when it was apparent that the latter had amnesia. As it happened, conflict forced necessity and necessity forged companionship; fate had put the two together as allies, and they fast formed a friendship they'd later find invaluable. This was where Robin was instated as the official Tactician of the Shepherds, and he took on the responsibilities of managing each of their members.
Through great effort and insistence, the man had gotten close to all the others and won their trust - something that was further strengthened by their experiences in the coming wars.
That is the public telling of the tale. As with all things in history, there is a lot left unwritten... and as with many great men, there is a darker side to them that they kept hidden...
A gentle knocking at the door woke Robin from his thoughts. A quick look out his window told him that it was getting rather late, not a time he normally received visitors but was something to be expected.
After all, he gave specific orders for this person to come meet him at this time.
"Enter," he said imperiously, something very detached from the warm and open personality most had come to associate him by.
The door to his office swung open, and in walks Miriel, who took great pains in shutting the door behind her - but noticeably not locking it. Her expression as blank as always, she faced Robin and approached the desk he was seated behind and bowed solemnly. That is, she bowed in an act showing complete subservience and submission; down on one knee and head lowered, she looked the part of a lowly vassal paying homage to her master.
"I have come, as ordered," she intoned, only rising at his gesture.
Unique to Miriel was her clinical expression; not once did it change during her paying obeisance, and even as she rose, she fixed her glasses in an all too trademark gesture as if completely nonchalant about everything.
Robin nodded silently, his eyes trailing over her form.
While mostly hidden by the Mage robes she wore, her body was no doubt full and lovely - something he could personally attest to. And with another gesture, she started unveiling that very same body, stripping off her robes without a hint of shame in her expression.
Soon enough, Miriel stood naked before him and took a parade rest position, hands clasped behind her back and feet shoulder-length apart. Her face stared blankly forward, though she didn't need to look to tell that he was inspecting her body once more.
"Do you know why you're here, Miriel?"
"Yes, Grandmaster."
His query was met with a simple, firm response. There was no question about who held the authority here, about who she answered to.
"Tomorrow, you will be wed to Henry," he began, taking note of her unwavering expression. "I wish the both of you happiness, of course, but I trust you will not forget your duties?"
The Shepherd's resident scholar nodded. "I will not forget my place, Grandmaster. I will be his wife, but before that, I am your servant."
"Very good."
For a few moments, there was silence. Neither made any moves nor showed discomfort in their situation. It would be easy to mistake Miriel for some automated drone, but he could tell that she was in willing service. The blankness was just her default expression, some sort of clinical dismissiveness that spilled over into her personality.
That was the strongest tell, for him; that she accepted his ownership of her as hard fact.
Robin abandoned his desk and moved towards Miriel, circling the Mage and inspecting her body very closely. Now and again, he would reach out to trace his fingers over her naked skin, reveling in the power he held over her; the way she shuddered at his intimate touch but forced herself to maintain discipline spoke well of her training. Of his training her.
He paid particular attention to a very unmissable tattoo she had right over where her womb would be. In ink as dark as the magics that enchanted it, was his mark of ownership - something he called the "Mark of Robin", a creation of his that was more to humor Tharja's incessant demands that he mark his property than to actual take control.
Eventually, he broke away from puerile groping and situated himself comfortably on a lush chair to the side of his office. Miriel did not move, not until he called her with a droll "Come."
She was unperturbed by the sight of him splayed about the chair, and wordlessly she sank to her knees and loosened his trousers. Without need for further instruction, she coaxed out his member and started tending to it with aplomb.
The Ylissean Grandmaster just sat there in contentment, as if it was nothing for him to command his compatriot to suck him off. Eventually, his hand drifted off and started playing with her hair, occasionally scratching her behind the ear as if she were an overly affectionate pet.
Which wasn't too bad a description of her, actually.
It was hard to tell how much time had passed, Miriel focusing on nothing but at the task at hand (and the cock in her mouth) and Robin content to while away the day's stress through her attentive suckling. They could afford to take their time; they had all night for the ritual.
A knock on the door interrupts his musing, though he made no motion to get up or stop his friend from tending to his erection. Mentally reviewing his schedule, he came to the conclusion that this could be something urgent as everyone knew better than to inconvenience him at this hour.
"Enter."
The door swung open, and in walked Maribelle clutching something to her chest. Like Miriel, she closed the door behind her but made no motion to lock it, and the first thing she did upon entry was to move to the center of the room and then genuflect before the Grandmaster. Not once did she bad an eye at her comrade sucking off the man she was talking to.
"I deeply apologize for intruding, Grandmaster, but I have something that must be brought to your attention."
"I thought as much, Maribelle. Still, that's no reason to ignore protocol."
Nodding once, the noble woman rose from her kneeling position and began to undress herself. Much like Miriel, her calm expression didn't much change, suggesting this wasn't the first time she'd done it – and that she'd done it enough times to have gotten used to it.
It was a sight to behold. Confident and proud, the Troubador was one of the original members of the Shepherds and one of the Tactician's early detractors, a fact that changed after he had led the rescue that saw her freed from Plegian hands. While not consciously making it a strip tease, seeing such an honored noblewoman look so obedient while taking off all her clothes in such an unashamed manner was inviting. More so that Robin knew the reason she was so used to being naked was because of him.
With the last of her clothes discarded in a heap, Maribelle stands firm and assumes the position that Miriel had earlier – the standard rest position for them when naked and awaiting orders.
He puts a firm hand on Miriel's head, pulling it away from his cock, leaving it visibly erect and slick with her saliva. With but another gesture, the Mage returns to her previous position, mirroring the naked noblewoman beside her. Neither girl could help a stray glance at the Grandmaster's manhood, but quickly righted their gazes forward.
"Alright, then, what is it?" Robin asked. His tone held no trace of irritation, but it was clear enough to them that he was getting slightly impatient, irked at being interrupted.
"It's Ricken, Grandmaster," Maribelle answers, dutifully, her tone respectful and submissive. She was ever the picture of the subservient lady she was groomed to be. Gesturing to the package on the floor, she continues, "He proposed to me."
Robin shows slight surprise and leaves his chair to pick up the item and examine it further. It was a small varnished box, nothing particularly fancy, and in it was a rustic band – presumably Ricken's engagement ring. The sight of it told the story of the boy and his family's financial situation as disgraced nobles.
He couldn't help but chuckle as he scrutinized it.
Turning to Maribelle, he asks, "And you intend to accept?"
The noblewoman's face sours, although moments later it smooths out into an even, unreadable expression. "I'm not sure, Grandmaster."
"Mm," he hummed noncommittally. He could tell there was a story behind that and it was one he'd have to hear. Still, no point not making himself comfortable while he heard her out.
Moving back to his seat, Robin snaps his fingers and Miriel dutifully follows along to resume her earlier ministrations. Absently, the Grandmaster starts toying with her hair as she takes his length into her mouth, and then motions for Maribelle to continue.
"I… don't like Ricken that much, Grandmaster," she begins. Unlike earlier, she looks towards him as she speaks, conveying her thoughtful and conflicted expressions alongside her words. "I can respect him as a fellow Shepherd, but I do not know if I can do so as his wife."
True enough, Ricken had been the one to save her back before the Plegian war began, and he had distinguished himself well enough in the conflicts that followed, but that was the professional capacity she appreciated him in. Her preferences in men were more attuned towards those her age, with specific mention of the Grandmaster as it was inevitable for her to grow attracted to his form with all the training she underwent under him.
"I see, and why then are you bringing this to me?"
Robin's honestly curious question was met with a resolute expression, and in a firm voice, Maribelle answers, "In case you wish for me to marry him, anyway, Grandmaster. I understand that you have plans for all of us, and engraved in me is the lesson that our loyalties first and foremost belong to you. I may not be romantically inclined towards Ricken, Grandmaster, but if our marriage would be useful to you then I would accept it without hesitation."
Her answer brought a smile to his face. Of all the Shepherds he had trained, it was Maribelle who had come the furthest. While before she was a haughty aristocrat believing herself above him in stature, now she was here naked before him, inquiring if her marriage could be a useful tool for his plans. It made all the time and effort he put into breaking her in all the more worth it.
His hand moved from scratching Miriel behind the ear to her cheek, and after a few light pats, she relinquished his cock from her mouth and leaned back. He called Maribelle forward to kneel beside the mage and had the noblewoman take him into her mouth. Undaunted by the fact that it was just in Miriel's mouth, she obeyed.
"I am pleased you thought to ask me, Maribelle." And truly, he was. Ricken's attraction to Maribelle didn't escape his notice but he didn't think the kid had the guts to actually propose to her. Still, reviving Ricken's lineage and uniting the two noble houses had its possibilities… Well, that was for him to mull over later. For now, he had to reward his servant for such thoughtfulness.
In short order, he reached his peak and emptied his load into Maribelle's waiting mouth. The blonde dutifully swallowed whatever came her way, unconsciously savoring the taste. After she downed the last drop, she extricated herself from Robin and bowed low, forehead touching the ground. To see her so docile was amazing.
"I thank you for the gift, Grandmaster."
To Robin's amusement, he put a foot over her head grinding her forehead into the ground, but she remained reverent and unmoving. And all he needed a do was to place the foot in her face for her to start showering it with kisses. Satisfied with her patronage, he forced her up and signaled her to resume her rest position in the middle of the room.
"I will think on it, Maribelle. Be good and await my answer, I have other things to tend to tonight."
Accepting his words for the dismissal it was, the noblewoman nodded her head and silently awaited his next use for her. He had not told her to leave, thus she stayed, watching as the Grandmaster pulled Miriel into his lap and whispered something into her ear. The cock that was just inside her mouth now poised to enter the mage and take her virginity, the all-too-familiar mark - for she had one, too - glowing ominously.
More likely she was to be audience to Miriel's binding – a sample of what would happen to her if she were ordered to marry.