A/N: Still back in the past with this one. I'd wager not long after chapter 3. Big thanks to your support and especially big thanks to The Erudite for his insight. Just a heads-up, I'm going to be taking a hiatus from this story for a while. There are other projects that need my attention too, so be on the look-out for them. I will return to this piece though.

Eyes

Of all the things a crown would bring, above all ideas of wealth, power or prestige, Sumia hoped her marriage would make others see her with new eyes. At the first sight of her crown that morning before her presentation as queen, her eyes lit up. She was enraptured by the thought that perhaps, for once, someone's first impression of her would be something other than amusement—or incredulity.

Only hours later, Sumia was convinced there was no fool in Ylisse greater than her.

The sting of her own peoples' eyes lingered like embers against her back, never dying or diminishing, even in the safety of her sitting room. From their portraits on the wall, the gaze of the Hero-King Marth and Queen Caeda pressed down on her like weights, and Sumia doubted they found the sight in any way pleasing. Even her own crown mocked her: the diamonds held a chilling stare and sneers of scorn in each glittering facet. With a huff, Sumia hurled the crown at the wall, finding little satisfaction in the crash or clatter that followed. Dropping onto a sofa, the new queen buried her face in her hands. If she could have managed it, she would have screamed, but a sigh was all she could muster.

While she was no stranger to eyes of frustration, pity, and even rejection, none could compare to the eyes of the Ylissean court. The eyes of the Risen, pulsing red with the Fell Dragon's hate, held more compassion than those belonging to the noblemen and ladies. How could she endure this punishment day after maddening day? How could she stand before gazes so crushing, the smallest of blunders tripled in weight; so withering, her blood could run dry and her bones could crumble like autumn leaves; so piercing, she was as good as naked, her every flaw and imperfection laid bare?

"Sumia," came the voice of her husband. Sure enough, there he stood in the doorway, eyes filling with concern. "Are you all right? That was a pretty bad fall."

She sprang to her feet, wishing of all things he could have mentioned, that would not be one of them.

"I can't do this, Chrom," she said, turning to look out the window, "I just can't face all those people again."

"They didn't say anything."

"They didn't have to. Can you imagine what they must think of me?" Her own eyes stared back at her from within the glass; eyes that wondered how long it would be before he saw her with the same eyes as his court, his ancestors, and his crown; eyes that knew she was unfit to stand in his presence, much less at his side, and eyes that knew the day he realized the full depth of her inferiority would surely come. "Chrom, I'm not worth all of this."

"What are you saying?"

"Look at me. All I do is trip and get in the way. I'm not worth the humiliation. Everyone is going to laugh at you for taking me as your queen."

"I tripped over a pebble, remember."

"And you swore me to secrecy about it too."

"As I recall, you threatened to tell everyone about it if I didn't get any rest."

"Chrom, be serious. The entire kingdom just saw their new queen fall on her face. They know I'm not what a queen should be, and they're right. I'm not graceful or elegant or anything. All I've ever been good for is tripping over nothing, or getting lost on patrol, or setting the camp on fire, or nearly getting stung to death because I was too stupid and grabbed a beehive. You would have been better off marrying someone—"

The next thing she knew, he'd grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, "That's enough, Sumia. Don't ever say anything like that again."

"But, Chrom, it's true. Everyone knows it."

"I don't care. I don't care if they saw you trip over your own feet. I don't care about any of that. You told me to look at you. Well, let me tell you what I see: I see the woman who gives me strength when she's beside me. I see the woman who makes me see the brighter side of things. That's what I see. You think you're not worthy of me? Sumia, if anything, I'm not worthy of you."

Sumia's eyes went wide. She blinked once, and the second time, her vision blurred.

"Oh, Chrom," she murmured, leaning into him, allowing strong arms to embrace her, "tell me you love me."

"I love you, Sumia," he answered, his eyes gentle and tender. "I will love you until the day I die, and every day, I'll show you how you're every bit the woman I see."

She smiled. For him, perhaps she could withstand the eyes of the Ylissean court; with him, perhaps she could learn to see herself through his eyes.