Disclaimer: I'm sure writing this story voided any claim I ever could have made regarding the ownership of Smash Bros.

A Quick Note: More slash if you squint and turn sideways. You might not get all the jokes if you don't know much about Fire Emblem, Tellius, and strategy games in general, but I can't really help that, can I? Please excuse Ike's rambling as well - he hasn't had the best start to his day, after all.

Otherwise, enjoy!

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Chapter Two: While You Were Brawling

Ike awoke with a start, blinking in flickering, candlelit darkness, Samus's words echoing in his head. You're getting married… Getting married… Married… Married…

Married.

"Ashera's balls," he said aloud. "Soren is going to kill me."

"I'm going to do what now?" said a very familiar voice from over his right shoulder. "And if you know what's good for you, you won't swear like that around Rhys. I'm not listening to another of his ridiculous lectures about piety." Papers shuffled briskly, in a very familiar way.

Ashera's balls, I'll swear if I want too – I'm General Ike, aren't I? Ike thought fiercely, as he turned and saw the sage in question sitting at his desk, an open ledger in front of him, a singular eyebrow raised. He felt his heart leap up into his throat in surprise. "W-w-what the hell are you doing here?" he stuttered, making Soren's remaining eyebrow join its brother halfway up his forehead.

"I'm going over the accounts," he replied, slowly, in a way that implied that Ike had lost several IQ points along with all of his sense. Which may have been right. Ike didn't feel particularly alert or aware. Maybe Zelda's Ancient Hylian Citrus-Based Hangover Cure had done that.

He wondered if she'd ever thought of marketing it.

Probably not.

He also wondered if Link knew about it. He made a mental note to inform him at the earliest opportunity. That kid couldn't hold his alcohol.

"Are you feeling alright?" Soren continued, rising slowly from his desk and reaching for the staff leaning against the back of the chair. Ike blinked and nodded, distracted, noticing for the first time that he was, in fact, sitting in his favorite camp chair (the one Mist had covered in a flowery calico print, probably to spite Soren's dignity), a book lying open on his lap and feeling for all the world like he'd just woken up after a long nap.

So, maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe I got involved in a drinking contest with Boyd and Zihark again. Maybe I ate some of Mist's cooking. Soren clicked his tongue and forced Ike's chin up, sounding eerily similar to Zelda as he went about examining pupils and checking vital signs.

"I don't think that little off-world trip did any good for your mental state," Soren muttered, feeling Ike's forehead. "You've been having nightmares about it since you came back. Things about crazy appendages and little pink vacuum cleaners with eyes and birds that want to show you their moves. We need you in top form, especially with our little… situation so near at hand."

Ike was in the middle of thinking, If I never see another laser-equipped white glove, I can die a happy man when he caught Soren's miniscule pause. "Wait, what 'situation'?" he asked, a weird feeling of dread building inside him. Last time they'd had a 'situation,' Ike had ended up running half-naked through the streets of Begnion's capital, Rolf under one arm and a broken mandolin under the other. He'd never really lived that one down. Shinon had actually commissioned an artist to capture the moment in watercolors. He'd framed it, the bastard. Though no one could deny that it was a pretty good likeness.

Soren blinked. "What, you don't remember?" There were those words again, back to haunt him. Please don't say "married," please don't say "married," please don't say "married," he found himself chanting mentally. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Soren said, instead, "I'm… pregnant."

Almost.

"…and you're the father."

Okay, yeah. That whole relief thing just flew out the window on magical butterfly wings, trailing pixie dust and candy canes. Ike felt his head spin yet again. The fact that Soren was now saying, rather sheepishly, "Well, it might be Boyd, or Oscar, or Reyson; It was quite a party," didn't really help the situation all that much. Or at all. Ike stumbled to his feet and started for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Soren called after him. "We still need to decide on color schemes and pick out names!"

"I need some air," Ike said, shuddering, and pushed aside the tent flap, coming face-to-face with… "Tibarn?!"

The king of the Hawks was wearing a bright purple jumpsuit and gesturing wildly to a band of similarly dressed laguz, who seemed to be practicing some sort of jumpy, frilly dance involving ribbons tied to batons. Ike froze, his eyes wide, as they turned in unison and waved to him.

And Ike, for the second time that day, fainted dead away.

*****

Ike awoke with a start, to something that was not quite as familiar, but far more reassuring – a young, winged man hanging over him with his nose practically touching Ike's own. Ike didn't want to think about why this could possibly be reassuring (in the face of his previous vision, however, pretty much anything that wasn't purple jumpsuits would be reassuring, to say the least), but he did take a moment to push the offending nose away and look at his surroundings.

He didn't get much of a chance to do so (except to note that he was sprawled on some sort of long chaise, and that he was wearing the old dress uniform Mist insisted on him taking with him when he was signed up for this whole crazy trip) before the young man still perched beside him started talking.

"Who's Soren?" he asked, and without waiting for a reply continued, "is that your girlfriend? I bet she is. Why is she going to kill you? Did you do something wrong? What did you do?" There was a short pause, followed by, "Oooooh, wait, I know what you did. Yeah, she's probably going to kill you."

He was removed abruptly by a familiar figure, who picked him up by the scruff of his toga and deposited him several feet away. "Give him some air, Pit," Samus said, adjusting her jacket. "He's had a rough day."

"Well, I was just asking." It sounded like Pit was pouting. Ike was about to make a comment about pouting being an unbecoming thing on a general (he'd been told something similar by a very flustered Geoffrey once) when Samus appeared, her arms crossed over her chest. She surveyed his spread-eagled form with a cursory nod.

"You clean up pretty nicely," she said, sounding satisfied and rather pleased with herself. "I didn't think it was possible."

Ike glanced down at himself again. He did have to admit, the dress uniform looked much nicer than he thought it would. Mist had done a good job with the tailoring. Even the belt seemed to…

Wait a second, he thought suddenly, horrified realization dawning on him, I wasn't wearing this when I woke up…

"You undressed me?" He sputtered up at Samus, who rolled her eyes. "Is there no privacy here!?"

"Relax, relax," she replied, in a not-very-soothing voice. She didn't have much practice in soothing, after all. Chasing bounties across galaxies and fighting giant brains, yes. Soothing freaked-out and possibly insane comrades, not so much. "I didn't do the actual fun parts," she continued, and jerked her chin over her shoulder. "Those two did, though."

Ike peered around her, already dreading the sight that he knew would greet him. It was probably Peach and Mario. Or Peach and Wario. He really dreaded seeing that. He almost sighed in relief when Link and Meta-Knight, both in dark blue (consequently matching both Samus and Ike's own outfits), their swords belted at their waists, came into view. They sat across from each other at a small side table, stacks of dominos arrayed in front of them and looks of intense concentration on both their faces. Well, on Link's face, at least. Meta-Knight was, for obvious reasons, lacking that particular feature.

Both men – Are they really men? Aren't they more of an elf and a… a weird masked puffball thing? Just what the hell is he, anyway? Some sort of genetic offshoot of Kirby that likes the dark and has wings? …Holy crap, is Meta-Knight a vampire? – glanced toward Ike as Samus moved out of the way, and raised their hands in greeting before going back to their game.

"I did supervise, though," Samus added, just as the look of relief seemed to cross Ike's face, and burst into laughter at his expression. "Relax, would you?"

"I'm having a little trouble doing that right now, thank you," Ike muttered, taking the glass of water Pit offered toward him and draining it in one gulp. "First I'm stuck with a hangover and a blank in my memory, and then I'm told I'm…"

Realization dawned again, and he leapt to his feet. "Wait, am I still getting married?"

Glances were exchanged between all four non-Greil Mercenaries in the room, and Link and Meta-Knight rose to their feet. The four of them casually arrayed themselves in a circular pattern around Ike as Samus sighed and nodded. "Yes, you are still getting married. I wish I could—"

Ike did what any normal man would do when faced with the prospect of getting married to an unknown person under mysterious and troubling circumstances. He bolted.

Or, he attempted to bolt. But he found his path cut off in all four cardinal directions, and tackling either a battle-hardened space mercenary who could drop kick Bowser twenty yards, a possible vampire with magic wings and a seven-point sword (just how does that work, anyway, aside from hurting like a bitch), or a man that regularly wrestles seven-foot-tall living rocks for fun and profit wasn't exactly high on his to-do list. So he turned around and tackled Pit.

Ten seconds later Ike found himself face down on the ground, the teenaged general of Palutena's army straddling his back and laughing in a surprisingly evil cackle. Where did he learn how to suplex? Ike wondered, woozily, as well as Ashera damn my inability to run in diagonals!

"Look, I'm sorry," Samus said, squatting down and tilting her head so she and Ike saw eye to eye. She looked almost… birdlike. Ike pushed that thought out of his head with a violent shove and concentrated on not looking at her chest, despite it being almost eye level with him. He didn't need any more grief today. "This whole thing," she continued, oblivious to the inner struggle going on within her young captive's mind, "it wasn't really my idea. If I had my way, it would have just been a stupid joke that we used distract you during matches. But it's out of our hands now. We're just as trapped as you are."

Just as… trapped? Ike furrowed his brow. What the hell is she talking about? Who's calling the shots here, anyway? His thoughts were interrupted by a pat on the head from Pit. "It might be fun, anyway!" he said, so brightly that Ike winced. "I mean, haven't you always wanted to get married?" He bounced to his feet and helping the now quite confused (and newly sore) general to his feet.

"Not against my will," Ike muttered in reply, running a hand through his hair. I wonder if my hair's going to go white over this. "Do you know how many people are going to hurt me back home over this? Especially Mist. She wanted to be the flower girl, or something like that." He brushed off his jacket, noting that his medals were newly polished and pinned. They were certainly going through a lot of trouble for this, and he still didn't know…

"Hang on," Ike said suddenly, realization dawning on his face. "Just who am I getting married to?" He followed that quickly with, "Please tell me it's not Peach. I know she makes great cakes and all, but I'm really not that into…" He looked up. His four comrades (Captors? Kidnappers? Groomsmen?) were exchanging silent and intent looks (as best they could, of course. Meta-Knight managed to do a lot with just his eyes, glowing yellow though they be). "Oh, no. It is Peach, isn't it? Oh, Ashera's balls." Ike felt like trying to bolt again. It was just his luck that they'd blocked off the only available path. What I wouldn't give for a Longbow right about now.

Of course, that would require that Shinon be there, and this was one situation that Ike emphatically did not want that bastard to know about. Of course, Rolf could work, too. But this was also something he emphatically did not want Boyd to know about either. "Why didn't Father ever teach me how to shoot a bow?" he asked, only half rhetorically, when Link sighed and stepped forward, obviously the loser of Super Smash Glance War I.

He'd just raised his hands in a pacifying gesture and opened his mouth to say something hopefully soothing when the door burst open (almost off its hinges, but that was no surprise considering the figure currently standing in the doorway) and a loud, deep-pitched voice called out, "There he is! There's my boy!"

Ike turned and caught a glimpse of his attacker moments before he was enveloped in the biggest bear hug he'd ever gotten. "Are we ready for our big day?" the hugger asked; Ike could hear the voice rumbling around in his barrel-like chest, pressed up against it like he was. It was hard to breathe, pressed up against that coal-black velvet wall.

"What?" was all he managed to get out as the continual hug started to rob him of air. His attacker laughed and only squeezed harder.

This is the worst day of my life, he bemoaned silently as his vision started to tunnel and go black. His last thoughts before losing consciousness for the second time (Third time? Could you really count the dream THAT WILL NOT BE TALKED ABOUT EVEN IN PARENTHETICAL STATEMENTS) that morning were Ashera -- oh, Ashera -- I'm sorry for whatever I've done; I'll return that sword I stole from Stefan - he wasn't really even using it but I know how much he likes it, almost too much, he has a name for it too, you know and oh Ashera why?

Why am I marrying Ganondorf?

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More Notes: I'm sorry, Ike. It'll make sense later on, I promise.

I've tried to stay at least moderately in-character with each persona introduced, but I do take some liberties. Pit is probably the biggest violation thus far, but I can't get the idea that he's a bit hyperactive and way too curious for his own good out of my head. I think the whole place sees him as a little brother, even the kids. If you see any blatant violations, or want to know why I'm writing the characters as they are, feel free to ask, theorize, and complain to me about it :D

This is the last chapter I have ready-written, so the next one may be a little while before it shows up here. Comments and criticisms are welcomed, so please let me know what you think!