So after playing Fire Emblem: Awakening for a bit, and after you learn about the Marriage system in the game, I decide that it would be fun to pair up Tharja (the psycho stalker) and Henry (the cheerful sociopath) and see what happens.
In a game that already has a lot of chuckle worthy moments, their dialogue always made me laugh! Sitcom worthy, one could even say.
And speaking of sitcoms...
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Disclaimer: "That's Our Tharja" is written in front of a live, studio audience.
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The scene opens with a shot of a typical Plegian domicile, then fade cuts to the inside. We focus on Tharja, who's currently bent over a tub of soapy water with her sleeves hiked up past her elbows. She's muttering darkly (normally) to herself and appears to be scrubbing something under the water. Next to her are a pile of dirty dishes, grimy beakers, and some things that defy logical description.
While she continues to do that, Noire walks (timidly creeps) into the room, to much praise by the audience.
"U-u-u-um…M-m-mother?" she stuttered, shakily holding up a finger to get her mother's attention, "U-um...i-is everything alright?"
Tharja suddenly stopped what she was doing, freezing completely still. She then slowly turned her head and sent a dark glare at her daughter, causing the archer to squeak in fright.
The audience went "Oooooo!" at this, waiting for what was to come.
"No, everything's not 'alright'," the dark mage hissed, explaining "I'm slaving away over THIS when my precious time could be better spent perfecting a curse to finally rid of that meddlesome Trollop next door who thinks she can just waltz in here and steal Robin away from me so, no, 'alright' is not what things are right now!"
After a few moments of awkward silence, and once Noire finally stopped shaking, something her mother said clicked for her.
"...but aren't you and Dad already married?" she asked.
At that moment the door to the room they were in opened and Henry leaned through, wearing his usual beaming smile and winked to camera. The audience ate this up, cheering and applauding for a solid half minute before he strolled up to Tharja and gave her a kiss on top of her head.
"Hey there, Darling!?" he said while reaching over to good naturedly ruffle Noire's hair, "Cast any good hexes today?"
She turned to glare at her husband.
"I was working on one that would cause the Trollop's nails to turn bright green and constantly emit an annoying sound."
"Really? How'd that work out?"
She then yanked her hands out of the water, holding them up for Henry to see; they were dripping with soapy water, and her nails were a bright shade of lime green. And now that they were no longer submerged, the sound of cricket could be heard.
Very. Loud. Crickets.
"Oooh, I see what you mean," he said, sticking his fingers in his ears.
"MAKE THIS CONFOUNDED RACKET CEASE!" Noire screamed, having slipped into her more extreme personality due to the overbearing noise. "BY GRIMA'S ROTTING BREATH, IT'S LIKE IT'S BORING RIGHT THROUGH MY SKULL!"
"So if it's so annoying," Henry asked over the din, "how come you're washing dishes and not dispelling the hex?"
"I'm not washing dishes," Tharja growled, her teeth grinding against each other, "I put the hex in a topical treatment and had the bright idea to test it on myself first."
Henry shrugged at the camera as the audience burst out laughing, which continued on until the opening title sequence started.
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Opening theme song: the Happy Days theme.
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When the picture fades back in we see Henry out in back of the house with a large pile of corpses. He was holding a Arcfire tome and looking despondent.
"Well, I suppose this had to happen sooner or later…." He raised his hand to cast the spell only to stop when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Turning around, her found Noire standing behind him, looking even more nervous and fidgety than normal. "Oh hi Sweety," he said, brightening up, "What's up?"
"W-what are you doing out here?" she asked, now staring past the delightfully sociopathic dark mage at the pile of rotting flesh.
He sighed wistfully, "Cleaning up my old corpses. They've been piling up recently, and you know how your mother gets when she finds them strewn around the bedroom…" The audience chuckled at this. "Anyway, what's eating you?"
Noire blushed, bopping her pointer fingers together. "Um...w-well...you see...gods this is so embarrassing…."
The audience cooed in sympathy.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to make fun of you for whatever your problem is."
She she continued fidgeting for a couple second before spontaneously switching to her extreme personality.
"BLOOD AND THUNDER! THE NEIGHBOR BOY NEXT DOOR IS QUITE NICE TO BEHOLD VISUALLY AND I WISH FOR HIM TO HOLD ME IN HIS SOFT, TONELESS ARMS!"
"So you're saying that you have a crush on Laurent?" Henry deduced after easily shrugging off Noire's outburst, "Well, I suppose that happens to everybody at some point in their-"
"Th-th-that's n-not the p-prob-blem," the young archer clarified, now much calmer (though also with her previous nervousness). She wrung her hands before continuing. "So...you know how M-m-mother always tries to put hexes on Miriel?"
"Yep!" Henry sighed longingly, "Isn't she just dreamy when she tries to curse our neighbors?"
Noire just blinked at him as the audience laughed.
"Yeah… Anyway, Miriel is Laurent's mother, a-and since Mother hates her so much for marrying Robin, well…."
"Ah! You're worried that Tharja won't approve of you courting the son of her worst enemy, right?" Her silence and rouging cheeks was all the confirmation Henry needed. "Well don't worry, I'll have a talk with your mom about this and clear everything up, OK?"
"Will you? Thanks you sooo much! SOON LAURENT AND IMPRESSIVE POINTY HAT WILL BE MINE! BWA HA HA HA HA!"
"That's nice, Sweety. Now run along while I go find you mother." He shooed his daughter off (she continued laughing maniacally) and turned back to the pile of rotting cadavers and gleefully shouting "Arcfire!", washing the pile in a stream of flames. He nodded in satisfaction before turning to the task at hand. "If I were a crazy dark mage with an unhealthy obsession with my neighbor, where would I be?"
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The scene cuts to Tharja, who is currently hiding (clumsily) in the bushes between her house and Robin's. While the audience was laughing at the image of Tharja's head sticking out of one part of the shrubbery and her entire rear half sticking out of the other, the stalkerish dark mage focused her baleful gaze on the woman causing all of her vexation: Miriel.
"Look at her," she muttered to herself, "thinking she's so special because she tricked Robin into marrying her…"
Miriel currently had her back towards Tharja, kneeling next to a peculiar looking flower and taking copious notes on it.
"Tch, what could she have possibly done to trick Robin into falling for her?" she wondered as Miriel pluck one of the petals from the flower and turned it over in her fingers, making a note in her notebook. "I mean, I'm much more attractive than that frumpy tart! Besides, who dresses in heavy robes in Plegia? It's a bloody desert for crying out loud!"
Tharja continued to mumble to herself as Miriel continued her observations on the flower. After a few more notes she closed the book and, letting out a satisfied "Hm!", headed back inside, no doubt to compile what she'd just learned.
"Yes," the dark mage chuckled to herself, "this is perfect! That stick in the mud is bound to come back out to perform some type of experiment on that flower, so all I have to do is put one of my hexes on it, and when she comes back, it'll-"
"Hi Honey, whatchya doin'?" Henry said, suddenly appearing behind her. On reflex she spun around and cast "Nosferatu!" at her husband. Fortunately for him his wife's HIT rating suffered from her not quite so dignified position, and he was able to easily dodge her attack. "You mind if we talk for a minute?" he asked, as though she hadn't just tried to sap his LIFE.
"If you must know," she hissed as the audience's laughter died down, "I was trying to hex that flower over there," she pointed to the peculiar looking flower in the middle of their neighbor's' yard, "So what is so important that you felt the need to interrupt me?"
"It's about our daughter," he said, "she seems to be under the impression that you are or will be mad at her." Tharja regarded her husband for a moment.
"...did she spill the frog's eyes again?" she asked, much to the mirth of the audience.
"No, it's something else." Henry looked around for a moment, then leans in close and whispers conspiratorially, "I think Noire's got her first crush!~"
"And that's all she thinks it takes to make me mad?" Tharja scoffed, "Please, she may be a weak willed little greenhorn, but she's perfectly within her rights to-"
"On Laurent."
If the audience's reaction was anything to go by, her face was quite comical in how much pure rage was being kept at bay.
"...that girl is grounded!" she growled, fuming as she headed off to find Noire, "And then she's going to help me test out some new hexes I'm working on!"
"Iiyyeeeeeeeeee don't think that's a good idea," Henry cautioned, grabbing his wife by the back of her collar before she could get too far. "After all," he said, smiling lovingly, "you can't help who you fall in love with."
"You can if they work for the enemy," she protested, "I'd rather be devoured by the Fell Dragon himself then allow to associate with the spawn of that...Robin stealing harpy!"
"Then what about Morgan?" Henry wondered, "You never complain when Noire spends time her."
"...she's Robin's daughter," the dark mage protested, "sh-she doesn't count."
Henry sighed. He hated it when Tharja got all Tsundere, she became even more irrational than normal and tended to make snap decisions that often didn't end well for her. He loved her to death (something he'd tried to manifest literally at one point, to less than stellar results….), but sometimes she was too jealous for her own good.
However, before he could point out the double standard his wife was using, he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was Robin, their next door neighbor and the object of Tharja's unhealthy obsession, and the audience cheered for a good 15 seconds at his arrival.
"Um, sorry to interrupt," Robin apologized, "but I was wondering if you and Noire would like to have diner with us tonight?" He rubbed the back of his head casually, "Morgan really seems to like spending time with Noire, and I think Noire enjoys hanging out with her and Laurent as well, so if the three of you aren't busy tonight…?"
"That is a very tempting offer," Henry said, "but I think we may have some things to take care of before we can-"
"We'd love to!" Tharja blurted out, hiding shyly behind her husband. She reflexively held her Nosferatu tome closer to her chest and absently twirling a lock of her hair. "It's not like I'm trying to make you mine or have any resentment towards your floozy of a wife for beating me to the punch or anything!..."
Henry said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow at his wife.
"But weren't you just saying-" he started to say before Tharja slapped a hand over his mouth, the audience eating this up with barely contained laughter.
"What time will supper be ready?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes daintily.
"Miriel just put the food on the stove, so I think it'll be ready in...three hours?" he guessed. "Anyway, I'd better go find Morgan and Laurent; she was giggling more than normal earlier so she probably dragged her brother into some scheme or other." The audience laughed as he gave a short wave as he headed back into his house, "I'll see you three later!"
"Yep, see ya!" Henry called after the tactician, Tharja also waving shyly after the object of her obsession. "Are you sure you're OK with this?" he asked after Robin was out of sight, "You'll have to be in the same room as Miriel for at least a couple of hours."
"Tch, of course!" she scoffed, "Why would you even think that?"
"Because you always try to hex her whenever you catch sight of her," he supplied dryly.
The audience laughed at the massive sweatdrop that was forming on Tharja's forehead.
"...no I don't," she protested weakly, earn more laughter from the audience.
"Really? Then what were you doing just now when I found you?"
Tharja sweatdropped even more.
"...fine!" she grumbled, "I promise not cause trouble during the meal." Her face then hardened in determination, "But the minute the food's gone…!"
"That's the spirit, Darling!" Henry cheered, patting his wife gently on the back, "Now let's go find Noire and let her know what's happening, OK?"
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And now back to "That's Our Tharja".
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As the advertisements conclude the scene fades to a shot of the dinner table at Robin's home. Everyone is sitting down and tucking into the meal, some (Tharja) with less aplomb than others.
"This slightly burned carcass is delicious!" Henry praised, taking another bite of his turkey, "What's you secret, Miriel?"
"There isn't any hidden arcanum to the success of the roast poultry," she said, "I simply followed the instruction in the cooking tome I acquired in the market when I was gathering the necessary foodstuff components for tonight's refection."
"It's *murglefurgleburglefurgle*...," Tharja mumbled, chewing a bit of her own bird; she was loathe to give her worst enemy a compliment, especially to her face, but at the same time she was making a conscious effort to be on her best behavior.
"You didn't have to go to the market, I would have leant you a cadaver if you really needed one," Henry offered, beaming. "After all, what are neighbors for?"
"Ew!" Morgan and Noire grimaced in unison.
"No offense, Henry," Laurent said, setting his utensils down politely pushing his plate to the side, "but the cadavers you have, I wouldn't feed those to my worst enemy."
"I would…," the female dark mage mumbled.
Morgan spoke up after an awkward silence fell on the group. "Mom let help her cook the turkey!" she exclaimed, "It was fun, but she didn't let me dump a bunch of spices in the baste…"
"I refuse to let a bit of poorly executed clandestine sabotage ruin all the effort I put into this meal," Miriel huffed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
"And why, pray tell," Robin asked his daughter, "were you trying to do that?"
"...I wanted to see your expression after you took a bite," she admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. (The audience, of course, thought this was super funny and laughed accordingly.)
While Robin instructed his daughter on how he would have caught on to her ploy even if Miriel allowed her to tamper with the recipe, Noire glanced shyly over at Laurent, who was dabbing his mouth with his napkin.
"So, um...," she stammered, unable to think clearly over the frantic beating of her lovestruck heart, "are you special- working on anything special? Lately? Oh gods…."
"Well," he said, "lately I've been delving into any tome I can find on scrying. It's actually quite fascinating how it works. You see…."
Tharja tuned most of this out, more intent on glaring at Miriel across the table; the mage academic was paying attention to her son at the moment and didn't notice this, absently pushing her food around on her plate.
This caused an idea to form in the messed up depths of her mind. As discreetly as possible, she chanted a hex and cast it on Miriel's food, using every last ounce of willpower to keep herself from preemptively cackling in victory.
"...and if you change a couple of the variables, you can- ...Is something wrong with your food, Mother?"
Tharja froze, a forkful of turkey mere inches from her mouth. [insert audience laughter here].
"No," she said, "I simply partook in a larger than normal mid morning reprieve, and…" A light blush crept onto her face. "...I confess I sampled from the meal somewhat liberally during preparation."
"Well, I think I might be able to handle a bit more," Robin said, motioning for Miriel to pass her plate over to him, "I'll finish that for you."
Miriel gratefully slid her plate to her husband, "Thank you Dear, it would have been dispiriting to misemploy any of the effort that went into preparing tonight's meal."
Tharja was still frozen in place, only now her fork had fallen from her hand, her mouth was practically on the table it was hanging so low, and she developed the most prominent twitch in her eyebrow.
You can imagine what the audience thought of this.
This put her in an interesting dilemma, because she couldn't save her [unhealthy] crush from the hex without revealing that she cast a hex in the first place, and one meant for his wife no less!
Her extreme fretting did not escape the notice of Henry. "Honey-boo?" he asked, "Are you OK?"
"Just...fine!..." she answered, her teeth pressing down so hard against themselves that she could probably make diamonds if she had a lump of coal. She couldn't even turn her head to send a death glare his way, she was so morbidly transfixed on the sabotaged food that Robin was now eating.
So it stood to reason that because she was so focused on her unintentional blunder that she didn't notice Noire shyly holding hands with Laurent.
"*hack!* Get a room, you two!"
Morgan, on the other hand, had noticed and was making a very exaggerated show of gagging at how sickly sweet her brother and her best friend from next door were being.
Both teens ignored her and had moved on to staring longingly at each other, their faces rouging in slight embarrassment.
"U-u-u-um…?" Noire stammered, managing to drum up a smidgen of courage, "D-do you think th-that m-maybe we could, um...kiss?"
The audience cooed at the sheer adorableness on display.
"That...is not an unenjoyable prospect," the young scholar admitted, "I've heard about oral osculation in great detail from Inigo, and I confess I've been more than a little curious about it since."
"*gulp!* So...is th-that a yes?"
"...I suppose it is."
"D'awwwww!~" Henry sighed, practically melting in happiness that his daughter was about to have her first kiss! He leaned over to his wife, "Isn't this great, Honey? Our daughter's about to finally become a woman!"
This finally broke Tharja out of her trance.
"Not on my watch she won't!" she declared, looking over and reeling back in shock when she saw both youths slowly leaning towards each other, their lips each puckered for a kiss. (Noire was trembling slightly.) Thinking fast, she grabbed her turkey and chucked it at Laurent.
"OH FOR THE LOVE GRIMA'S ROTTING CORPSE, JUST GET ON WITH IT!" Noire shouted, apparently getting impatient. She then pounced on Laurent, knocking both of them to the floor as she forcibly pressed her lips to his.
This in turn caused the airborne meat to miss its intended target and sail right into Morgan, who was currently laughing at the turn her brother and best friend took, smacking her right in the gob. After sputtering in surprise for a bit she wiped her face clean, glancing around the for the culprit. She eventually settled on her dad, who was looking waaaaay too clam eating his food, and flung some of her own food at him.
"Morgan!" Robin scolded, effortlessly swatting the flying meat aside, "What have you mother and I told you about playing with your- *hiccup!*" Robin hiccuped, a small poof of feathers bursting from his mouth as he did so. "...What the- *hiccup!*"
It happened again.
"*hiccup!*"
And again. (There was now a small pile of white feathers accumulated on his plate.)
"Miriel, Dar- *hiccup!*...Darling, you made sure to clean the bir- *hiccup!*...bird before cooking it, right? *hiccup!*" The audience (pardon the food pun) ate this up, laughing heartily as more and more feathers spurt from the tactician's mouth with every hiccup.
"Unmistakably," the studious mage said, adjusting her glasses to better examine the strange phenomenon erupting from her husband's mouth, "Perhaps the bird was cursed before it was slaughtered. Hmm...this requires further investigation." She rose from her seat and headed for the door, grabbing her pointy hat. "You don't appear to be in mortal danger for to moment, but I shall endeavor to make all proper haste to return with a plausible theorem."
"Have fun with that, Mom!" Morgan called, spearing some of the tainted poultry, "I gotta try this!"
"Morgan, don't- *hiccup!*"
"Too late- *hiccup!* ...Wow, that feels weird! *hiccup!*"
"BLOOD AND THUNDER, YOUR LIPS ARE MAGICAL!"
Tharja stiffly rose from her seat and walked over to the wall, and after making sure it was suitably sturdy she proceeded to repeatedly bash her head against it.
"Dear?" Henry asked, swallowing bite of turkey, "You gonna be OK?"
*bang! bang! bang! bang! bang!*
He then turned to the camera and shrugged. "That's our Tharja!" he said, the image freezing and a reprise of the theme song begins playing over the ending credits.
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Belated second disclaimer, the characters in this story are based on my own play through of the game, hence why Miriel is Robin's wife and not, say, Lucina like popular convention usually holds to. (Besides, might as well go all out with the mage theme, am I right?)
Aaaand that's pretty much what went through my mind after the chuckling subsided. Make of that what you will.
Keep in mind, THIS IS A ONE SHOT; I have no plans to continue this story past the pilot episode it was obviously meant to be. In fact, it's highly unlikely that I'll get another idea for a Fire Emblem story any time soon, if at all. If you also like Bleach, Maximum Ride, or RWBY, I have a bunch of stories for those fandoms, as well as scattered other fandoms.
Anyway, that's all I've got. So remember Kids, Galeforce is your best friend; always pick the Dark Flier class, and always give that ability to you Future Children.