Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Fire Emblem.

Chapter twenty-three: Scheming Behind Closed Doors

Unknown to Corrin and her party, Iago had the opportunity to share their squabble with King Garon far sooner than anyone had expected. Following the interview, Garon had retired to his rooms to seek rest and reparation for his muddled head; Iago himself had decided to respect His Highness' health and wait until morning before pressing for a solution to the "Niles problem". (As Iago had mentally dubbed it.) However, almost as soon as Iago's spur-of-the-moment suffocation plan had failed, he was summoned to appear before the king in his royal chambers. And Iago happily complied.

He scurried through the castle to answer his master's call, rehearsing his side of the story as he went. Iago picked through his vast vocabulary, muttering each word under his breath to test its effect. He discarded all but the most distressing synonyms for his tale. By the time he had reached the king's bedroom door, Iago's story was ready.

Iago pushed the doors open himself, and emerged slowly over the threshold. Once inside the room, his gaze flitted over the gorgeous furnishings and precious metal knickknacks that seemed to litter every corner; he focused on his master, King Garon, who sat up in bed, grimacing. Iago approached with his arms out wide and his back bowed.

"Greetings, your majesty!" he exclaimed. "I pray you are feeling a little better."

Iago raised his eyes to find Garon glaring at him. "Why do you fling your arms out whenever you enter a room?" he grumbled. "You look ridiculous, like a scrawny crow trying to take flight!"

Iago forced a smile. "I see that stinging wit of yours has returned, your majesty," he remarked, not letting his annoyance taint his voice. "I was so worried after this afternoon's display."

"Display!" Garon roared. "I do not make displays, rat. Remember that. Also remember to never mess with my medication again, if you want to keep your head."

Iago flinched; a familiar cold sweat began to trickle down the back of his neck, as it always did when he spoke with King Garon. Iago laughed weakly. "Of course, your majesty."

"Speaking of this afternoon," Garon continued, impatiently smoothing out a wrinkle in his silken bed sheet, "I want to know all that happened during that interview, as well as what has happened since. I can't trust my own memories due to that damn medication!"

"Yes yes, so sorry about that, my lord!" Iago babbled, thinking again of his prepared narrative. Perhaps, he thought, he could lead into that event by beginning at the interview. "To put the events concisely, my lord, Xander and Corrin returned with their ragtag band of soldiers this very afternoon, and immediately demanded an audience with you."

"And I gave it to them?" Garon asked, grimacing once more. He slammed his fist against the bed frame, causing the bed to shake unsteadily. "How dare that arrogant flea try and summon me! I'll crush her soul!"

Iago sighed. "You're always promising that, sire, but you never do."

Garon's eyes flashed a warning, which caused Iago to quickly continue his review. "Pardon my pause, my lord! As I was saying, an audience was demanded and, against your better judgement, granted. Prince Xander tried to give you a report of the war proceedings, but you were not quite able to follow it." Iago coughed awkwardly. "And then he announced that Princess Corrin has found a suitor, who was requesting permission to marry her."

Garon nodded gravely. "So, that was not simply a dream. My darling daughter has found herself a mate." He grinned coldly. "Does he have money to offer? a high social position worthy of a royal alliance? does he have any connections or history whatsoever?"

"No, my lord." Iago answered smugly.

"Of course he doesn't, idiot!" Garon screamed, throwing one of his pillows at Iago. "That was rhetorical, moron! One need only look at him to see that he crawled out of a gutter just yesterday."

Iago cowered, nodding vigorously. "Of course, my lord! Yes, my lord! Rhetorical, yes, of course!"

Rhetorical questions had long been the bane of Iago's existence at court. Even after so many years spent dodging Garon's abuse, learning all of his switches, Iago still couldn't discern between the questions he should answer and those he should not. Garon gave him no clue — he seemed to enjoy the guessing game.

"Obviously," barked Garon, "he has targeted Corrin for her supposed money and position as princess. While I would delight at feeding Corrin to a heartless gold-digger, I can not let her marry him, for it would bring social disgrace upon Nohr."

Iago nodded. "Yes, indeed, my lord! Hm. That slithering serpent would chose to fall in love with a penniless upstart rather than someone useful such as a rich nobleman. Is there no end to her selfishness?"

"Iago," Garon said, "shut up."

Iago balked, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He nodded silently.

Garon put a hand to his head and grimaced. He was obviously in pain, but Iago couldn't deduce anything further without asking questions — and that had been forbidden. Iago watched in awkward, worried silence as Garon's discomfort grew worse

and his expression darkened.

Finally, after minutes had passed, Garon gasped for air and released his hold on his temple. He panted, wiping sweat from his forehead; Iago, unable to stay quiet any longer, exclaimed, "My lord, are you all right?"

Garon raised his head, but he didn't seem to have the strength to glare or yell, this time. "The great Anankos…" he panted. "He tried to speak to me. That medicine — he said it interfered with his thoughts as well. Never! … never may I take it again!"

Iago said nothing. He understood now why Garon had appeared so petrified so suddenly; he thought he had indirectly tranquilized a god! Iago, however, did not have such faith, either in man's medicines or King Garon's divine visions. The medicine which Anankos had apparently rejected had a secret which Iago would take with him to his grave: The medicine was not for King Garon's blood pressure, but for his mind.

Iago knew about the voices in King Garon's head, and while outwardly appeared accepting and supportive of these divine mandates, inwardly he feared and loathed them. He believed without a doubt that these taboos were nothing more than the inconvenient fancy of an aging man; thus, Iago often felt no qualms when stretching or once in awhile stepping over the boundaries King Garon's madness placed on him.

Iago had hoped the new medication would solve the problem — and then Iago could finally solve the Corrin problem. (Torturing her was all well and good, but killing her would have been so much more efficient!) Instead, the medication had turned a ruthless king into a doddering old man who couldn't recall who needed executing one second to the next. Worse still, Garon's temporary insanity had prevented him from disposing of Corrin's suitor immediately, and had thus left Iago with one more problem on his overflowing plate. Iago certainly didn't need a god telling him the medicine was useless — he had discovered that for himself.

"I am sorry, my lord," Iago said with feigned regret, "if my experiment had caused the great Anankos any pain! How troubling indeed!"

Iago could hardly muster up even that much enthusiasm. Had Garon been well, he might have punished Iago's insolence with death. However, Iago was uncharacteristically lucky in that Garon was still too weak to understand everything that his advisor did and did not say.

"Lord Anankos," Garon continued, having caught his breath, "has given me instructions in how to remove the suitor."

Iago smiled earnestly now. "Your majesty, if there is one thing I do not need, it is advice in how to kill people. Now, if your god has a preference, I am willing to take requests. What will it be this time — maiming? burning? we haven't beheaded anyone in awhile."

"Shut up, rat!" Garon roared. "Lord Anankos has adviced that the man not be killed."

"What!" Iago exclaimed, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. "Him, too? My lord, why is it your god's mission to preserve everyone who is most troublesome to your empire? Surely that must strike you as a little odd?"

Garon growled, "You may not question Anankos' commands! Furthermore, he did not say the suitor can not be killed — only that it should not happen yet."

"When, then? Please, my lord, tell me. I'll mark it on the royal calendar!"

"Silence your whining! I will tell you, because it will be your responsibility to arrange it." Garon sighed and leaned back against his pillows, appearing very tired. "Lord Anankos told me not to kill the suitor yet, for Corrin loves him, and his life is a valuable tool in harassing Corrin. That was all. We may kill the suitor at any time, but what Lord Anankos said is wise — we must make use of this new weapon before discarding it. Do with that as you will."

Iago started. "That's all?"

"Isn't it enough?" Garon glared again. "I am tired from the ordeal your incompetence has once again put me through. Leave me to rest in peace!"

"But, wait — please, my lord!" Iago exclaimed, feeling flustered. "I don't know what I may do! May I kill him or may I not?"

"Iago, I expect Lord Anankos to eventually give us leave to kill even Corrin," Garon growled. "Thus, I don't care who she spends her time with in the interim. Let her marry this gold-digger! I suspect he will bring her much more sorrow than you are able." Garon scoffed. "Kill him directly or kill her through anguish, I don't care! But whatever you do, do not let Nohr's integrity be injured!"

"Integrity, sire?" Iago questioned.

Garon rolled his eyes. "Social standing, then. I will not let my glory be diminished because my fake daughter brought home a beggar to share her crown!"

Iago hesitated. Then, slowly, he began to smirk. It was beginning to dawn on him — a solution, a new scheme to make Corrin's life more miserable than death. Her suitor was a perfect tool, surely; his indifference to her would be the perfect knife to wrench in her gut and make whatever future the voices in Garon's head allotted Corrin bleaker.

Iago bowed his head. "It shall be done, my lord." he said. And his smile widened a little further.

Ending note: I'm afraid Iago's plans will have to wait some time before being revealed, for next chapter will focus on another CorrinXNiles milestone.