Origins: Marth
The First Church, Central Altea
"Marth are you okay?"
Marth shook himself from his stupor. Eying his reflection in the mirror for seemingly the millionth time, everything seemed so foreign. Clad in a white variant of his armor, the two sides of his cape a matching white and ruby red respectively, today was the day of his wedding, which joined himself and Caeda in holy matrimony. As a royal, most of the planning was done mutually by the courts of Marth's Altea and Caeda's Talys. Watching the stage upon which he and the love of his life would unify take shape in front of him was so…odd. Could this really be, thought the soon-to-be king?
"Lord Marth, are you okay?"
Marth felt a chill emanate through his entire body. He had ignored someone when spoken to! Pushing away the scoldings of the many etiquette coaches he had in his youth, he looked to the source of the voice, his right. Kris, a red-eyed woman with a raven bob for a haircut stood at chest height with Marth, peering at him with an icy inquisitiveness that, had she not sworn allegiance to Altea early on, would've made Marth's blood run cold.
"Yes I'm fine, just nervous," Marth chuckled, his voice cracking.
No response from Kris. Of course. Nervousness didn't exist in her vocabulary.
"I just returned from the banquet hall of the church. All Seven Kingdoms have presented their offerings. I made sure of it."
And there it was, Kris' most common phrase, "I made sure of it." Usually used to indicate the completion of some of Altea's bloodier, secret operations during the war,
His eyes widening as the pieces clicked together, Marth chuckled, "You're equating making sure offerings have been received to that? Perhaps you're just as nervous as I! Tell me, is it the armor?"
Kris frowned deeply. An archer by trade, she, at Caeda's rather intense insistence, was cast into black knight's armor to match when she stood alongside the other groomsmen.
"Worry not about me my lord, worry about yourself," growled Kris.
Marth's face flushed, "Do I not…look okay?"
"Aye, you look like a horse turd."
Marth spun on his heel. Sprawled across three finely plushed chairs were his four groomsmen. The slurring voice of the big armor knight Draug had sent the other two, the brothers Cain and Abel, into quiet giggle fits.
"I'll take that as a joke brought on by the alarming amount of mead you've consumed today, and not an actual attack on my appearance."
"A wise choice milord," came the dry reply of Kris.
The complete seriousness at which Marth's invisible hand tackled humor brought a smirk to Marth's face. This broke the composure of Cain and Abel, who broke into chuckles. This, in turn, chipped away at Marth's composure, who joined in with Draug, who laughed with the carelessness of a man whose inhibitions had been blown away by the ballista that was alcohol. Only Kris stood completely silent amidst the laughter. Suddenly, a redheaded young girl poked her head in, "Everyone, it's time," the girl announced, authority in her voice.
Marth nodded, "Everyone, let's move,"
Draug opened his mouth to speak something but was promptly smacked in the back of the head by Kris, who was first to join Marth. Cain and Abel took their places in line, Draug bringing up the rear, grumbling, and finally standing upright after a few attempts. The group walked down the near-empty hallway, and into the church proper. Soft, orchestral music filled the room as all 200 heads in the pews turned, happily murmurers all around. Marth recognized a few faces, some from the War of Heroes, and some diplomats from the various kingdoms this marriage would unify. Suddenly his gaze snapped to the two old men waiting for him on stage. One was Wrys, a monastery acolyte who had recently become ordained, and Wendell, the extremely powerful mage who, upon an ornate, velvet cloth, held the crowns that would ordain both king and queen upon completion, as well as the decree that unified the seven kingdoms. Nodding his thanks as both men, the elders nodded back as the groomsmen stood to one side. Suddenly, the soft music transformed into a triumphant march. First came Ogma, then Bord, then Cord, then Barst, dressed in loose-fitting, albeit colorful Talys wedding garb. The foursome parted into two groups of two, leaving a space for the guest of honor.
And then, it happened.
Through the white marble, doors stepped Caeda. The dress was snow-white, each of its many layers ordained with diamonds that somehow stood out in the all-white room. Her blue hair in a tight bun, the soon-to-be-married couple's eyes lit up as they made contact. Caeda strode down the aisle, the room was dead quiet at the ensemble, save for some who "awwed" at Tiki's appearance, who was happily holding Tiki's ridiculously long train as the bride moved forward., her unusually burly bridal party at her side. The music stopped as Caeda joined Marth at the front of the room, holding his hands in his.
"You look great," mouthed Marth.
"As do you," Caeda mouthed, her face a deep red.
Three Hours Later
Marth of Altea would not describe himself as an impatient leader. His father and his father before him had all been regarded for their patience, their ability to find commonality with even the most militant of an enemy, no matter how long it took.
However, contemplated Marth, this was testing his limit.
Readings in the holy text of each of the seven kingdoms, and ritualistic songs done in each deity's honor had taken entirely too long. Luckily, Marth's neutral face was impossible to break. This proved to be even more true even when he had Caeda's equally impossible-to-break, beautiful, grinning neutral expression to look at.
"And now, with these tributes having properly been given," Wrys began, his grandfatherly, soft voice somehow loud enough to echo to the entire venue, "Do you, Prince Marth of Altea, take Princess, Caeda to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," whispered Marth, as tears began to take form in Caeda's eyes.
"And do you, Princess Caeda of Talys take Prince Marth of Altea to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do," Caeda blubbered through tears, "I've wanted nothing more utterly in my entire life,"
"With that, I pronounce you, first and foremost, man and wife, you may now kiss the…"
Wrys' speech was interrupted by loud wailing. Marth, Caeda, and their respective factions of the wedding party scanned the crowd for a culprit, but all 200 guests were scanning the room diligently, ready to rain aristocratic huffiness on whoever dared interrupted such an occasion. A gloved hand materialized in the room, a dainty handkerchief clutched between its ring and middle finger, snot dripping from the thumb.
"Oh, I do so love a wedding," said the hand in an obviously fake prim accent, blowing its "nose" once again.
Kris, immediately drew a dagger from within her armor, "If you think some nonsense is going to interrupt this wedding again, you'll do so over my corpse,"
Another hand appeared, this one more somber than its counterpart, "If you do what I ask you to do, I can grant the seven kingdoms peace for the next two millenniums!"
More worried murmurs from the crowd. Kris looked to Marth for direction who shook his head. The raven-haired woman snapped to attention, re-sheathing her dagger.
"What happens after that?" Caeda asked, taking the words right out of Marth's mouth.
"Trust us," said the once weeping hand, now jubilant, " If you keep the training up, the guy that'll save the kingdom after you is gonna be a badass."
"So, you can see the future?" asked Marth.
"Yes," the calm hand shook its fingers up and down to simulate a nod.
"And thus, how you can guarantee two thousand years of peace?"
"Correct,"
"I'll do it, on one condition," Marth commanded, casting a brief glance at his now balking wife.
"Name it," said the wild hand.
"You let me finish this ceremony,"
"Done. Our little tournament exists outside of time and space, so you would have gotten this done no matter what, but our records indicate you've been interrupted before," the calm hand spoke.
Marth raised an eyebrow, "Records?"
"Yep!" "The Fire Emblem gives off a magical energy we can track. It's actually one of the most powerful energies we've ever seen. Thee will be a lot after you," cackled the other hand, spasming wildly as he spoke.
Wrys cleared his throat, "May I continue?"
The calm hand, once again nodded, " Yes, please do,"
"As I was saying," Wrys began, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Pulling each other into a mutual deep, passionate kiss, the audience applauded. Once they separated, Wendell cleared his throat.
"It is with the power invested in me by the seven kingdoms," decreed Wendell, adjusting his ornate, bishop-esque hat, "That I decree Prince Marth the first and Princess Caeda the first King and Queen of the United Kingdoms of Archanea."
Both kneeling, both crowns were placed upon their heads.
"Long may they reign!" declared Wendell and Wrys together.
A chorus of "Long may they reign," echoed throughout the hall.
"Now, Marth, it's time to go!" declared the quiet hand, "And don't you all worry, you'll be invited to spectate once the participants have gathered."
"Oi! Knock 'em dead King Marth!" chortled Bord and Cord together.
"Yeah, Smash City's real cool," twitched the exhaustingly spastic hand, "It'll be a hell of a honeymoon for you two!"
"Crazy!" snapped the other hand, "Where is your etiquette?"
"Left it in the dresser this mornin' with mah clean socks!"
"But you don't wear…"
"Crazy," snapped Marth, "That's what I should call the lunatic?"
"Yes," said the other hand, sighing, "And you can call me Master Hand. Now, we really must be going."
The two hands snapped their fingers, and a blue, swirling portal opened.
"Yeh! Knock 'em dead King Marth!" cheered Draug.
Marth and Caeda shared a chuckle, as Kris patted him on the shoulder, "As much as it pains me I cannot be your shadow here, I know you'll do us proud."
Caeda nodded, "Yes. I know you'll conquer this as you have everything else in life, but please, do be careful. I couldn't bear to lose you again."
Marth felt himself tense. The two were mutually protective of each other and if anything could be described as a pet peeve about Caeda, it was that. But now was neither the time nor the place.
"Thank you my darling," Marth nodded, pecking Caeda on the cheek as he strode down the aisle, following the hands to his next conflict.
