Italics = Thought

I do not own Fire Emblem.

Cross published on A03

When all things were considered, being punched in the jaw by one of his oldest friends was not exactly how Odin expected to start his day. Or any day, for that matter.

He blinked as realisation dawned on him.

"Selena?" Odin blinked, rubbing his jaw.

"You asshole!" The twin-tailed maiden (even if she was far from a maiden) seethed.

"Wh…What was that for?!"

Selena let out an annoyed sigh. "Morgan."

"Morgan?"

"She was at Notre Sagasse."

Odin's eyes widened. "She was?! W-Well where is she?! I've long since missed my fair Snowy Maiden!"

"She's not here."

Odin's voice was cheerful now. "Oh come now Sweet Selena! Don't tell me you didn't bring her with you?"

"She was pregnant." The redhead said bluntly. She was forcing her anger down, trying to keep herself calm.

"She was…what?"

"Her name is Ophelia." Selena commented, flicking one of her twin-tails over her shoulders. "She has both the Brand and the Mark."

"Wh-Wh-What?!"

Selena rolled her eyes, and turned tail, headed for the door.

"Wait! You can't go now! Not after you tell me this!"

Selena stalked out of the dining hall, ignoring the brown haired mercenary that was about to enter.

Laslow peeked inside, and grinned.

"What did you do this time Odin?" Laslow asked, part curious, part teasing.

Selena slumped against her bedroom door. She glanced around, taking in her (frankly underused) room. She stood up, and walked over to her bed.

They are all under threat, you know?

She stopped still, and turned to look at her mirror. It appeared, in her mind at least, that her reflection was talking to her, in his voice.

"Trust me on this, my dear." Not-Her-Father said. "Out of curiosity, who holds more worth to you right now? Who would you choose to save? The two idiot boys you call friends? The two women you share your body and bed with? Or your two young siblings that you abandoned to go play hero with the Lowell bitch?"

"Why?"

"You may need to pick soon. Who would you choose?"

"I..don't…"

Or….

"Or?"

You can choose door D...and save them all.

"Save them from what?! You've not told me that part.."

"A certain snake…"

"…How?"

Selena narrowed her eyes as Not-Her-Father's mouth curving into a grin as he spoke again.

"Follow my instructions, and find out."

Corrin smiled as he watched as the first few carts of resources entered Haven (via the makeshift Deeprealm Gate Anna had constructed and since moved outside.) to as glorious a fanfare as the Havenites were able to put on. The bricks and building tools were greeted with outright applause. but the welcome they received was nothing compared to that of the food and drink, mainly the alcohol.

Especially the alcohol.

Shigure was currently riding on his fathers' shoulders, and was happily pointing at the people, babbling and 'Squaa!'-ing away.

Down below, their Anna offered a cheerful wave, one that both boys returned.

"Naanaaa!" Shigure cheered.

Corrin grinned happily, and turned his gaze to the Redhead walking to the wall.

The redheaded young man made his way down to where the Plegian's were working. Corrin had tasked them (well, tasked Morgan and Marc, it would, they believed, be easier to convince those Plegians that disliked Corrin, of which there were a few, (along with a few bandits and one particularly vocal Hoshidan.) and simply get the Plegian rulers to tell their people to do it) with building the outer wall of their new home. Whist the Havenites were fairly confident that there were no remaining Faceless, they couldn't be too careful.

Anankos had been insane, of course.

The young man managed to reach the region of unbuilt wall, and looked at his people. Whilst it wasn't what he had expected his people to be doing, it was, for the first time in a long time, good honest work.

"Hey! Lover-Boy!" Morgan called out teasingly. "Quit reading random crap and come help!"

Marc rolled his eyes. "Really? You're still using that nickname? Need I remind you Lu-"

"You and the Bluebird broke up. BUT! It got your attention. So the nickname did what I needed it to. Now, come and help us, oh mighty King."

"Who's looking after Ophelia?"

"Mozu. Sweet girl. Good with kids." Morgan commented as she assisted a younger Mage with stones. She shoot her brother a grin. "Nice try though."

The King of the Plegians sighed, placed his book down on the ground, shrugged the coat that once belonged to his father off, and delved into work.

"You know what I miss?" Marc later asked as he handed Morgan a brick.

"The warm embrace of your ex-girlfriend?"

"Shut up. I miss roasted chestnuts. Remember how, when we were little, Dad would take us all down into the market around Year's End to see fireworks?"

"Mmm, it was always from that same old man."

"Old Jeremy, yeah." Marc said wistfully. "What happened to him?"

"…I'm fairly certain he died in the war."

"Oh."

"Still. First thing I'm eating when this place is set up. Roasted Chestnuts."

"Maybe wait a while. It's been a long time. We need to be able to trust these others. We were safe in Plegia, not so here.."

"Dad really didn't care much for his safety, though."

"Yeah, it annoyed the Royal Guards." Morgan giggled, before sobering. "Severa was always happy then."

"Our mother was still alive back then." Marc said in an equally sombre tone. "…Roasted chestnuts remind me of childhood, of familial warmth and home."

"When did you get so sappy, dear King?"

Marc would have responded had it not been for an attention seeking cough behind him.

Nyx was standing there, hugging her tome tightly against for chest.

"You..said to come outside." The shorter girl said, fidgeting a little. "It..is a nice day.."

"Nyx! Come on, I'll introduce you." Marc said politely,, offering a hand out.

"B-But.."

"No buts! We're all Havenites now right? So come on, come meet people."

Nyx smiled shyly, and nodded, taking his hand.

He's serious..

Morgan blinked as she watched her twin walk off. Recognition dawned almost instantly.

"Oh you clever bastard…."

In the Nohrian Capital, Anya, the faithful were converging on the Temple of the Dusk Dragon. Some were sad, others happy for the distraction.

The Head Priest of the Dusk Dragon had been murdered, in a fairly brutal manner. In fact it was only by the old man's robes alone that they'd been able to identify him.

Now, in ordinary circumstances, the three Low-Priests would be summoned and a successor chosen among them, but, as with the Head Priest, they had been murdered along with their leader.

Which had led to this somewhat troubling series of events.

Hushed murmurs filled the crowds, and King Xander wore a look of mild distain on his face.

For it wasn't an actual Priest that was kneeling before the altar.

It was Skald.

He was knelt before the altar, and the duo of Low-Priests lowered the black and gold robe, and simple black crown onto him.

"Brother Attor Skald" One of the Low-Priests intoned. "You have been chosen to lead the faithful out of the dark we find ourselves before. Glory be to the Dusk Dragon, Glory to Nohr! All hail the Holy One!"

Brother….Head Priest Skald rose to his full height, and threw his arms out wide.

"All Glory to the Dusk Dragon!"

As per tradition, the crowds cheered out.

"ALL HAIL THE HOLY ONE!"

Next time is something I've been waiting to do for the last few months…

The Wedding!

Also, doing Odin's characterisation is hard given the topic, if anyone has suggestions on improvements for later, I'd be glad to hear them.