Aedan never liked sleeping in tents. They were cramped and uncomfortable and always so godsdamned cold. There was never enough space to store all of his things without being forced to trip over everything when he got up, the sleeping roll did literally nothing to protect him against the fucking avalanche of rocks on the ground and why in the name of everything that is holy are the tents so godsdamed thin.
Still, Aedan could live with those things. Through careful consolidation of space, he managed to clear out a small pathway leading to his bedroll. He managed to somehow pad his sleeping roll with some extra stuffing to make it slightly more bearable, and he managed to nick an extra blanket from the quartermaster when he wasn't looking. Aedan could live with the shitty qualities of the tent life.
Even marching wasn't totally awful. It was long, and mind numbingly boring, but he was used to the weight of a pack on his shoulders and his boots were nice and comfortable. As long as there was something, anything really, to distract him from the fact that they were just walking forward for the entire day, he was completely alright with it. Sometimes, it was rather tranquil. Birds chirped and flew overhead, the spring breeze blew lightly against his skin, a nice aroma of flowers wafted under his nose; sometimes, it was honestly more relaxing than anything else he would do that day. As they approached Regna Ferox, the air got colder, and he spent more time trudging through inches of snow, but that didn't mean that his surroundings got any less pleasant. At least, visually. As they marched toward the border, the snow and ice turned the rolling hills of Ylisse into mounds of snow, the trees into surreal mountains of white, and the villages they passed into humble igloos with windows.
No, it was everything that didn't include tent life and marching that he just couldn't fucking stand.
Because, at least, when he was in his tent, he could be by himself. And when he was marching, at least he wasn't being pestered. Because, at the very least, he didn't have to deal with utter fucking morons.
Case in point, the Feroxi border guards.
"Why in the name of all the gods are Feroxi so fucking stupid?" Aedan hissed. "We send an unarmored envoy and they want to fucking fight? What in the fuck is wrong with all of them? Oh wait, they're the fuckers whose concept of diplomacy is finding the weakest fucking person in the room and beating him to death with their fucking shoes! Fuck!"
Chrom stared. "… Creative use of the word."
They had only reached the Feroxi border approximately an hour ago. Being a sane and completely rational human being, Prince Chrom had sent an envoy forward to declare their intent and ask for permission into another sovereign territory. Being a completely batshit fucking insane human being, the Feroxi gatekeeper answered with a fucking javelin. To the face.
"You claim you are the envoy from the Prince of Ylisse? Do you want to know how many 'Prince Chroms' have come to the wall in the last week? Seven! Want to know where those seven are now? Underneath my boot! Buried under the snow!" came the shout from on top the massive fort. "Where's your proof? How can we be sure you're the real Prince Chrom?!"
Aedan had stared at the wall, his jaw hanging low.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
He was mad now.
"Who in the fuck kills a messenger? Who does that?"
"We should have known the Feroxi would respond like this," Fredrick muttered, shaking his head.
"Should have known?" Aedan muttered to himself in disbelief. "What kind of ass backwards—"
Aedan cut himself off and continued grumbling curses underneath his breath. Even if he had lived in Ferox for far too long, the insanity of some of the people living there continued to dumbfound him. He had long ago decided that the collective mental condition that the Feroxi suffered from was caused by the cold.
He took a deep breath. Raging wouldn't help, no matter how much he wanted to scream his head off. Frustration clawed at his insides, but he forced it down. Exhaling, he turned his attention back to the wall.
The Ylissean unit was a rather large one, around one hundred people. Prince Chrom had brought his Shepherds, and his sister the Exalt insisted he bring a platoon of Royal Guardsmen. Aedan knew, of course, the real reason. A hundred of Ylisse's finest combat troops under the guise of diplomacy? They were there to show off. They were there to show Regna Ferox that Ylisse was powerful, like a tiger on the prowl. After all, international diplomacy was just a dick waving contest.
Fredrick frowned. "Perhaps it would be simpler to settle this the Feroxi way, Prince Chrom."
Chrom raised an eyebrow, "By force?" He shook his head. "No, my sister sent me on a diplomatic mission. I will not have this end up violently."
"Be that as it may, milord, the Feroxi respond best to force and aggression. It is simply their culture."
"But it is not ours, Fredrick. I would like to settle this with words and compromise. If it comes to force, then it will be after we have exhausted our choices."
Robin blinked a few times. "Something tells me that diplomacy between Ylisse and Regna Ferox has always been… frosty?"
Now it was Aedan's turn to blink. "Did you just make a fucking pun?"
Fredrick shot daggers into Aedan. "Now is not the time to be criticizing someone's sense of humor."
Then, with a slightly less violent glare directed toward Robin, "Nor is it a time to be making jokes."
"… I wasn't trying to," Robin said meekly.
"Peace, Fredrick," Chrom said, deciding to be the voice of reason. Or, what little reason anyone had left in Regna Ferox. Seriously, what was up with the place?
Fredrick cleared his throat, quickly resuming his stoic demeanor. "Milord, all I will say is that the Feroxi do not understand anything besides force. If you wish to try and reason with them, I will not stop you, but I implore you to abandon this line of thinking."
"Fredrick," Robin added, "I'm sure the Feroxi are reasonable. If we show them overwhelming evidence that the Prince of Ylisse is here with us, I'm sure they will let us through."
"Riiiiight," Aedan said with a roll of his eyes. "That's exactly why there's a spear in someone's face right now. Because the Feroxi are reasonable and have the mental capacity of a normal human being."
Robin just rolled her eyes in response. Aedan was growing more and more confident that she disliked him.
Chrom smiled at Robin, "I'm glad someone agrees with me. I will go forward and negotiate with the gate captain."
Fredrick frowned, but let it go. "Very well, but please, allow me to go with you."
"No Fredrick," Chrom said with a shake of his head. "We are here for diplomacy. It is a show of good faith for me, and me alone, to go forth."
Robin pitched in her two cents. "After all, the more people we send, the more the Feroxi will think we are threatening them."
Aedan rolled his eyes again. "That's the point."
Fredrick's frown continued, etching a deep cavern into his face. "Once more Prince Chrom, the Feroxi appreciate force. They appreciate someone who is decisive and willing to demand what he wants. With a show of force, we will pass through their gates as well as be in the Feroxi's good graces. I urge you to reconsider."
"Fredrick," Chrom said, placing his hand on the knight's shoulder. "I will be fine. Stop worrying." Chrom smirked a little. "You're worrying way too much."
Fredrick sighed. It was the first time Aedan had ever seen the knight give up on something. After all, this was the guy who woke everyone up at four in the morning to work their butts off. This was the person whose determination and loyalty was something to be admired. Fredrick wasn't the type of person to give up on anything.
Apparently, Prince Chrom, and probably his family too because gods know how annoying fucking Lissa could be, were the only people to ever get Fredrick to stop insisting on things.
Fredrick managed a hesitant smile. He clearly wasn't comfortable with the crown prince marching by himself toward a wall of bloodthirsty lunatics. But, he clearly couldn't argue either. "Only for you and your younger sister. You two will cause my hair to grey prematurely."
Chrom just laughed. "It's because we think grey would be a good color for you, Fredrick." Patting the knight's shoulder, he continued. "Come now Fredrick. Nothing life threatening will come of this, I assure you."
Robin shot Fredrick a grin. "Told you you worry too much."
Fredrick grumbled a little, watching the prince stride toward the wall.
The watch captain's voice boomed from the wall as Chrom approached. "What is this? Another one of your envoys? Begone from this wall! We don't need filth pretending to something they aren't in Regna Ferox!"
Chrom cleared his throat before he continued. Unsheathing his sword, he held it up, pommel first to the gate captain. Sunlight glittered almost unnaturally along Falchion's blade. "I stand before you as the sovereign prince of Ylisse! If you don't believe me, see my sword! I hold Falchion, the holy treasure of the Halidom, banisher of the Dark Dragon Grima!"
The gate captain's head poked out from behind the wall. "So you have a shiny chunk of metal, what about it? You brigands know that impersonating royalty is a crime punishable by death, don't you?!"
Aedan made a noise that was a mixture between a bloodthirsty growl and a cow being choked.
"I hold the sacred blade of Ylisse! On my arm, I bear the Mark of the Exalt, the holy sign of the Royal Ylissean family! I come before you bearing the two most blessed items of Ylisse! Is this enough proof for you? Will you allow us through to see your Khan?"
"Look! Someone got a pen and scratched over the poor fool's arm! Hey! I can do that too! And you have a cool sword, look, I have a cool spear! It's called 'Shit Stabber' because it stabs little shits like you! Why would we let common bandits speak with our Khan?"
Aedan made another unintelligible noise. "Is this bitch kidding."
It wasn't even a question.
Robin shared Aedan's confusion. "What."
Even Fredrick was dumbfounded. He made a sort of bemused face before burying his head into his gauntlets in exasperation.
"I don't... we have literally shown her things that no other human could possibly have," Robin whined.
Aedan continued staring at the wall. He had little patience for stupidity and stubbornness. Like Robin had said, they had literally shown the gate captain things that no other human being should possibly own, and yet here she was, continuously spouting crap from her mouth. A part of him wished he had the ability to use magic, because the gate captain was in desperate need of a fireball to the face. And what little patience he had for this strange, and really should never have happened, situation had evaporated.
He started marching forward.
"Aedan, what are you doing?" Robin started, reaching a hand out as if to stop him.
"Giving this bitch a piece of my mind."
"And what, exactly, does that mean?"
"I might kill her."
Fredrick quickly moved forward and grabbed Aedan's arm. "You'll cause an international firestorm!"
Fredrick hissed, bringing his face incredibly close to Aedan's. Aedan could feel a little spittle fly from Fredrick's mouth and onto his face. Aedan yanked his arm away.
"You know what else will cause an international firestorm? A fucking war."
Without another word, and without another complaint from Fredrick, Aedan spun on his heels and continued walking toward the wall.
"Hey!" Aedan yelled, not even bothering to get close to the wall. It was actually kind of surprising how loud he could be when he tried. "Fuckhead!"
Chrom's head whipped around. "Aedan!" he hissed. "What are you doing?!"
"Prince Chrom," Aedan said, still glaring at the wall. "With all due respect, shut up for a second." Aedan knew that this would never fly back home in Oslia, and if he had said those words to basically anyone above him, he probably would have been flogged horribly. Luckily for him, there were only a few nobles with more rank than he had back home, and also luckily for him, he just didn't care. And besides, he did say with all due respect. That had to account for something…right?
"Who's this? Another Prince Chrom? No, your head's too much like a dog's!" came the cry from the walls.
Aedan had harsher words than that.
"You listen up fuckwit, because apparently you don't have the mental capacity to understand any of the shit that anyone has told you," Aedan hollered back, the beginning of his expletive filled rant. "You are going to let us through these fucking gates. Why? Because we have shown you shit that only the goddamn Prince of Ylisse can possibly have. Who the fuck else is going to have a goddamn birthmark like that? Who the fuck else is going to have that same exact sword? Who the fuck else has blue hair? What do you want us to do? Go and find a goddamn birth certificate? How the hell have you not gotten it into your thick skull that this man right here is Prince goddamn Chrom of Ylisse? The fact that you haven't understood that makes me convinced that you're actually stupid. I don't know if you were dropped on your head as a child or if your parents were just inbred fucking hicks, but get this through your fucking head. You're going to open these gates and you're going to let the prince and his cohort into your goddamn country or I will personally scale these goddamn walls and end you slowly."
Chrom looked at Aedan with wide eyes. It was obvious what he was thinking. His facial expression said everything. "Dear Naga," his face said as it started to contort into some strange mixture between embarrassment, rage, and complete bewilderment. "Aedan, you idiot, what have you done, you've just caused an international incident, Emm is going to kill me, gods please kill me and take this stupid hairy bastard with me."
A cold wind howled as the entire place turned completely silent. Not a single whisper could be heard. The previous whinnying of horses had quieted down. The clanking of armor against armor had silenced. Hundreds of eyes stared at the hairy bastard standing next to an ever shrinking prince. Everything was replaced by the heavy pressure of silence that pressed down on all of them.
Then there was movement on the walls.
"Aedan," Chrom hissed, fire raging in his eyes. "We will have words if we're still alive."
"We'll live," Aedan responded, crossing his arms and stamping his feet impatiently.
Chrom just shot him a glare before turning back to Fredrick and yelling to get the men ready. Behind the prince and his small cohort, the hundreds of royal guardsmen clamored to attention, unsheathing blades, and readying spears for combat. Dozens of archers lined up in front of a tightly packed formation, arming arrows, their fingers twitchy from the sudden adrenaline surge.
That was when the gates started to open.
Chrom blinked a few times, the anger leaving his face.
"Wait, what?"
Aedan just motioned him forward. "What are you waiting for, prince? Me to solve more of your problems?"
"I... don't... what?"
I was going to do this thing called updating earlier, but things got in the way (read: holy shit, Dragon Age:Inquisition is the greatest thing ever. Also read: holy shit, Real Analysis is the hardest thing ever. Also also read: holy shit, writer's block is incredible).
Apologies for not updating.