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In Security	By : HaveSomeFood Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all) Views: 5261 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. I make no money from this in any way.

Chapter List
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Chapter One: Voyeurism
The wedding was a madhouse. The food was amazing, the revelry without bounds. Ale flowed by the barrel, and it was, as he was told by Vaike, the good ale. There was nary a frown on a face and instead everyone danced and sang. And though it was supposed to be a more formal event, few of the soldiers, and especially the Shepherds, cared and they belched and laughed loudly and ate with smacking lips.
It was a party, and rightfully so. Lord Chrom had married Sumia, the woman he deemed to be the love of his life, and everyone, everyone was having a good time because of it.
Honestly, Robin should have been happier. He knew he should have, and he tried to. He was usually a happy person and he was sure that had things been different he would have been fairly happy. But it wasn't exactly easy to push aside his frustrations. More than half of the people in this room probably wouldn't have seen victory if it hadn't been for his planning and outside of the Shepherds few recognized him for his contributions. Aside from Ricken he was the next shortest male in the room and in their drunken stupor more than one person had spilled their ale onto the first set of clothes he could officially call his (his tally so far was four and the last one actually went all over his head, so his blonde hair now smelled like it). Finally he wasn't even old enough to legally drink so he didn't even know what good ale was.
He tried to have a good time. Really, he did. His best friend just got married, Ylisse was victorious in their second war against Plegia, and ultimately, considering his memory loss and being thrust into a position of war, he was alive. Alive was good, most of the time.
Still, his saving grace was that at least he was honestly inclined not to drink after seeing Vaike getting so "hammered", as they put it, that he was trying to strong-arm an uncomfortable Libra into dancing with him while attempting to grope at his non-existent breasts. Miriel was probably going to have a stern talk with her husband the next day, most likely also asking Vaike to describe the feelings and sensations of unintentional homoeroticism.
Thinking of Miriel made him give a sigh that he couldn't even hear over the din at a growing fact that he found difficult to accept.
Almost everyone in the Shepherds had found some sort of partnership, and he was partly responsible. War had forged incredible bonds between many of them, and relationships had sprouted. And he was happy for them. These people deserved companionship. The only ones who seemed to be happy to be in lack of a relation was Libra, Frederick, and Gregor. The priest chose a path of celibacy (or was trying to. Vaike might be so drunk that he somehow gets to him), Gregor felt he was just a little too old for them, and Frederick was a stalwart machine.
And now that the fighting was over and initial thanking and praising had passed by, much of the Shepherds were focusing on their significant other, hugging, kissing, and generally expressing endearment for the most part. True, Chrom had personally given him a toast, but tonight was his and Sumia's night, and there was no way anyone would steal the spotlight from the two.
Who would even be interested in him? Everyone was quite a bit older by several years. And taller. He didn't like being looked down upon, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't enjoy having to look upward at whoever his lover would be.
And he didn't want Lissa. That girl blew it with too many frogs in his cloak. Granted, he probably also blew it when, since it was his turn to cook, he decided to serve everyone frog legs for dinner to spite her. Besides, after they found Donnel no one could seem to get her to willingly leave his side.
In fact, his only real hope was when they found Nowi. Here was a girl shorter than he was, who seemed to have little care when it came to dressing properly, and with a personality that for all its spritely perks was endearing. She was also very attractive.
And she could turn into a dragon. Somehow, and for the life of him he couldn't exactly figure out why, that was kind of hot. Maybe it was the luster of her scales or the shape of her snout or her sharp talons. It didn't make any sense, but somehow her anthropomorphic abilities made him realize how enrapturing she was.
Until she picked Ricken.
Ricken! The boy was even shorter than he was and somehow Robin lost to him! He didn't even get to choose her. The two just started to follow the other around and he could see it in how they interacted despite his efforts. It was natural and it seemed to progress to the point where one day the girl had clearly marked her territory after Chrom declared his engagement to Sumia.
The last thing he heard from the two that day was Ricken trying to explain what it meant to be a husband and wife to the manakete. He even tried to be correct in his use of wordage, but Nowi seemed to both pick up exactly what was being said while only hearing what she wanted to hear.
"Wait, so if you're my husband and I'm your wife, we could have all the sex we want? No strings attached? And we get to make little manakete babies? What are we WAITING for?"
She hadn't even let him finish a proper response before she dragged him off to his tent. The next morning there were more than just a few knowing smiles aimed at the two. Ricken's face was aflame in red while Nowi merely seemed to take it in stride, taking every opportunity to kiss and embarrass the boy.
More than once he had found himself a little bitter towards his shorter comrade. It certainly didn't help that Ricken found it necessary, perhaps in his attempt to come to terms with his sudden but pleasant relationship, to describe the feeling of her forked tongue invading the depths of his mouth. But he pushed it off. It wasn't professional, and more importantly it wasn't right as an officer.
Still, on an evening like this, where it painfully reminded him that he didn't have a close relationship like that with anyone with the opposite gender, it was hard to be truly happy. And with all the love floating around in the air, he could feel his own jealousy and fleshly desires swimming within him.
So he decided that he was going to go to his room and do what he was sure every frustrated, lonely, horny, young teenage male virgin (at least he assumed he was a virgin) would have done in his position.
Masturbate.
He got up and left the banquet hall. No one seemed to notice him leaving, and he was okay with that, and besides, all the revelry was not helping him with his sour mood and neither was he really contributing to it. He began the small trek up to his quarters in the north wing of the barracks. His room was a little more private than the other soldiers. And he appreciated that, especially now that he wanted to be alone for a little while, both out of pity and for want of solitude. He would just do it quick and then try to rest. It usually helped him fall asleep anyway.
Unlocking the door to his room, he swiftly entered and turned the bolt shut, jostling the door to make sure that it would not be easily forced open. He wasted no time in moving towards his bed in the corner of the room, but he paused for a moment. Normally he would have flopped onto his and started, but his clothes still stank of ale. That was the last thing he wanted his sheets to smell like, and so he undressed himself entirely before throwing himself on top of the mattress.
And then came to task of figuring what he wanted to masturbate to. Wrapping his fingers around himself, he started to lightly stroke, feeling his length harden and grow as his mind churned. This was often the most difficult part, as he personally felt that it was in poor taste to beat himself off to a woman who he knew was with someone else. Sometimes it was difficult, like when had first met Olivia. She and Lon'qu seemed to have shared some kind of previous relationship, as small as it may be, but he was unable to stop himself from imagining her pink hair and naked body. That outfit she wore did not leave too much to imagination.
But with his own standards came his predicament. Just about everyone in the Shep-
… Well, no, not everyone. He frowned, but did not stop his hand.
Tharja, yet another woman whose outfit revealed much of her skin. Even if it was behind some sort of mesh-like stocking, it hardly made a difference.
Was she the only one left? But… her? Really? That strange woman who always seemed to have a knack of following him? He bit his lip. Sure, she was hot, but she wasn't exactly someone he found himself fantasizing over very much. But she wasn't the worst he could imagine. At least she was somewhat nice to him and only cold to everyone else.
Taking a breath, he closed his eyes. Might as well make the best of it. His grip tightened and he put more effort behind his strokes, imagining that it was her lips and tongue that were on him instead.

Tharja knew for a fact that she wasn't into young boys. Ricken was annoying and Donnel was only good for fetching ingredients. Younger boys were also curious and couldn't take directions very well. They would ask questions and complain and be rude.
And while it was true that there were no explicit laws against it in the desert nation of Plegia, neither was it a respected practice within it.
Still, there was something about Robin. She had seen it on the day she met the Shepherds in combat. Chrom had his blade pointing at her, demanding that she lower her tome. And she almost did. She had found herself on a battlefield she held no stake in.
But then she saw Robin. His face was marred in anger as his Elthunder tome floated by his side, its pages flipping in motion with his body. His hands cast out with purpose as bolts of lightning smote foe after foe. As short and young as he was, she could already feel the immense power that he seemed to carry. A mage of any kind being in tune with their tome was not uncommon, but to see someone so young attain that level of magic was astonishing. It was a feat that mages often achieved in their twenties.
She managed to do it at nineteen, but still. There was power in him. A lot of power. It was a dark, ancient, icky power that made her skin crawl, and it took a lot to make a dark mage of her caliber get goose bumps. And ever since the night that Chrom announced his marriage to the company, it had slowly gotten ickier, so much to the point that she was sure he could wield dark magic without batting an eyelash. She wasn't even sure if he was aware of it.
Tharja liked icky.
Following Robin was as natural to her as the moon following the sun. It was just something that happened. She wanted to know everything there was about this young boy. His favorite color was a purple that was a shade lighter than usual. He enjoyed playing chess when he had the time for it. His favorite food was liver and eel pie (a dish of Plegian origin, she noted).
But she never forgot the first night she hid in his tent. She used an invisibility hex to render herself undetectable and waited. She had been tailing his schedule prior and knew that he would turn in soon. And like clockwork he appeared two minutes and forty-three seconds after she entered.
It was new territory. She could feel her heart beating in her throat and ears. But she had never imagined she would be so lucky as to see the boy remove his pants and smallclothes before lying on the bed to let himself harden, his length sticking up against the cool night air.
And when he – oh yeeeesss – started to move his hand up and down his shaft, seeing his eyes shut in concentration, she felt herself bite her lip in anticipation. Who was he thinking of? What was happening? How many people were involved?
And then there was that little exhale. Not the soft heaves that he gave, but rather the tiniest of whimpers. His pace increased and his eyebrows furrowed while his cheeks flushed a bit, his short blonde hair sometimes sticking to his forehead. Her heart beat so loudly that she was sure he would hear it.
Shortly after, she was rewarded with the sight of his seed spurting out of him. One, two, a third, then a half and a fourth and final shot, the strands landing against the bare of his stomach and she found herself smirking at the sight of it. He paused there for a moment to catch his breath, his cum glistening in the candlelight before he reached for a small red handkerchief to wipe it off.
From then on, Tharja did her best to sneak into Robin's tent at night before he slept. On any given night there was an eighty-four percent chance he would masturbate (rather low for one his age, she believed, but she made no fuss about it). The average length of the practice was three minutes and twenty-three seconds. He favored his left hand, which was not his dominant hand. His right hand would scrunch and grasp at the sheets beneath him, perhaps pretending it was a breast that he was fondling. He would shoot out about four times usually when he came. And about seventy-two percent of the time afterward, Robin would move under the covers to fall asleep after cleaning himself. About seven percent of the time he fell asleep without doing so.
And sometimes, coming in at a low two percent (and much to her glee and viewing pleasure), he would try and masturbate a second time with vastly different numbers and percentages.
But she was never privy to what it was he thought about. She could put numbers and values in anything that was a quantifiable observation, but she wanted to know what was in his head, what fantasies his mind played when his little habit started and ended.
And so when she felt Robin's icky aura get even worse as the night went on, she knew that she had to know. Grabbing a quick bite from the table, she quickly made her way to his room, hexed the lock open, and entered and relocked it before hiding away in his room, patiently waiting for him to arrive.
Not long after, he opened the door and just as quickly shut and locked it. She began to hold her breath and almost had to pinch herself when she saw that he removed all of his clothes, not just his pants, before throwing himself on top of his bed.
It was an entirely new experience, seeing his upper body rise and flex as he played with himself. She could barely see the tiniest sheen of sweat, reflecting the soft light of the crescent moon that peered in through the open window. So lost in the moment did she almost miss that little cry he tended to give off ninety-two percent of the time. Her eyes refocused on his cock just in time to see him cum onto his lower body.
A particular moment that always made her smirk.
The white liquid settled at his waist. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell, though she could tell that he wasn't quite sleeping yet. Though it often put him to rest, he had that habit of cleaning himself off first. He had only failed to do so four times.
Still, it was time to act. With a quick wave of her hands her hex slowly began to fall away, pieces of her body beginning to materialize as if out of thin air and she felt her lips move.

The moment came and went in a spasm of muscles and Robin felt himself draw a deep breath. Though Tharja was certainly alluring, she wasn't exactly the easiest to get off on. Something in his mind kept saying how she had her strange habits that got in the way of his… ahem, enjoyment.
Still, now that the moment had come and gone, he found that with it usually came a dose of clarity. It was a sense of nothingness, a feeling that all his problems were going to sort themselves out.
He was young! He was going to find someone eventually. He needed to stop worrying about who he was going to spend the rest of his life with and focus on the friends who he was spending time with right now, relationships and sexing be damned. He didn't really need pussy right now, as some members of the Shepherds so aptly put it. It was just a nice perk.
Ricken could go jump in a lake though. Granted he would be there to help when his short mage friend needed it in the end, but he could bask in just being a little bitter for now. He'd get over it eventually.
B-But aside from Ricken's particular case, there was absolutely nothing wrong with being patient.
Robin felt a yawn come up and let it out. Masturbating had a tendency to make him tired. But something felt weird. It was like his body was more lethargic than normal, refusing to obey him and instead being content to rest. It was as if he was paralyzed by tiredness.
Maybe he would forego the sheets. It's not like the door wasn't locked anyway. He had made sure of it when he bolted it shut and gave it a few jostles to make sur-
"So who did you beat off to this time?"
Robin could have sworn his heart stopped.

**So as I said earlier, I'm bringing some of my m-rated works from my fanfiction account to this website. I'm literally copy-pasting everything except the review section to make it easier aside from this note here. Also, yes this is the real author, so no need to freak out or worry. Have fun!**
A/N: For the four people who voted for shotaRobinxPedoTharja, Christmas has come early.
I really don't know what to say about this fic. All I know is that one day I thought of this silly setting and figured "Why not?" This was actually supposed to follow the direction similar to a 30-topic kink meme of sorts, except with actual word porn. But when I did some more research on it, I found that the topics and format didn't really match my intentions.
Speaking of intentions, one could call this a Plot About Porn, counteracting the idea of Porn Without Plot. Somewhat. Maybe. Originally it was supposed to be more like one, but then when I started writing it out, it sort of morphed out of that path and became something else. I would still call it a Plot About Porn, but maybe not as much of a forefront category as compared to the previous direction.
Also, some of you might call this a thinly veiled blonde mMorganxTharja fic. And you would be kind of right. I did imagine using blonde male Morgan as the body type for the Robin in this fic, except he's even shorter and probably around fourteen. Think Lissa's age, except just a bit younger. But don't worry, because that will be taken care of, one way or another. Or maybe you should worry because it will.
Finally, if you're squeamish about the whole situation, you might want to take a deep breath before continuing because things are probably going to get awkward. It will still be funny, but it will be awkward. And yes, I might as well throw it out there, although you probably already know by now. There will be lemons. You have been forewarned. But you may also feel like you've been a recipient of targeted advertising. I leave the interpretation to you.
I do not own Fire Emblem.
I look forward to all comments and criticism.
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