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Partnership	By : The_Ant_King Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all) Views: 17189 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem and make no money from writing this

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The sun beat down on the desert brutally, making the Plegian's sweat profusely and driving the invading Ylissian's to near collapse. They struggled on though, almost fanatic in their determination. The only person unaffected by the heat wondered why any of them bothered. How they could get so worked up over all this nonsense. They might have ended up here like her, but that didn't mean they had to go rushing about, racing into the fray just so their blood could spill into the thirty desert sand even quicker.
Then again, Tharja reflected, it wasn't like she had ever been able to understand most people's motives. Like the incredibly sweaty soldier next to her. The third time he had propositioned her, she had warned him that next time a hex would be his answer. But that hadn't stopped the musclebound idiot, had it? He almost deserved the curse forcing him to absorb the heat that would otherwise be bearing down on Tharja. She wondered, briefly, if he had noticed it yet. It wasn't likely. Sweat drenched his body, rolling down his muscular form and dripping off steadily to vanish in an instant into the sand, his breathing was shallow, uneven, and he stood there with his mouth open and an unfocused, faraway look in his eye's. In short, he looked even stupider then usual. Although him not being able to talk was a definite bonus, even Tharja could tell that the curse was putting his health at risk. Any longer and she would have to tell him, or even remove it.
It wasn't as if his transgression were all that bad, Tharja told herself. Eyeing the soldier's glistening muscles, she resolved to have a word with him. If only he had had the sense to approach her appropriately, like on his hands and knees, he would be in an entirely different position now. Well, Tharja mused, he would still be sweaty and exhausted of course. But he would be considerable more satisfied and that was what was important. If he had learned his lesson and was ready to show her the proper respect, she could lift the curse and find far more interesting things to do then stand around pointlessly. Really, she could be so generous sometimes.
Tharja's reverie was brought to an unfortunate end when her prospective pet was struck by a bolt of lightning, his charred corpse landing far behind the dark mage before she even had time to blink. Tharja sighed. Even if she had forgotten the war, it had evidently not forgotten her. Preparing herself for combat, Tharja turned to the enemy responsible and promptly fell in love.
Power crackled around him. Dark, all consuming, mind breaking, world shaking power. More than she had ever felt, seen or heard of. Power so great it had a tangible physical presence to Tharja. She could see it, smell it, taste it. If she walked toward him it would be like trying to swim upstream.
And he wasn't even using it, she realised as he fended off another Plegian. He fought as a mortal man would, simple magic and plain steel. In fact, no one else seemed to have noticed it. Not his allies, not his enemeis, not even Tharja's would be comrades, the other Plegian dark mages. It was as if they had failed to notice the sun itself.
Tharja's new love looked away from his enemies and back towards his allies, shouting orders, getting some little blonde girl to heal a blue haired idiot. As he did, he changed. The avatar of destruction vanished and in it's place stood a man. An impressive man, even to Tharja's overly critical eye, but just a man. Tharja gaped, unable to believe that such power could simply vanish. It wasn't long before he noticed, and as he did he looked at her.
The minute their eyes met, Tharja realised she had been wrong. It wasn't gone. It burned within, held in check by an iron will but limitless in it's need to devour and dominate all that came before it.
Tharja's face hurt as a smile found it's way onto her grim visage, muscles she couldn't remember using before protesting at their sudden work. She wasn't sure whether she was going to throw herself down in front of him and start worshipping or clap a slave collar around his neck, but she was going to enjoy finding out.
This bitch is crazy.
It wasn't a particularly eloquent thought, but it was the only one that could survive in his head for more then a few seconds. Ever since that Plegian dark mage had defected mid battle, she had hounded his steps. Every time he turned around, she was there, watching him. He was starting to get dizzy.
HIs initial attempts to ignore her had failed pathetically. Instead, he had decided that if his mind was going to be stuck on her he might as well be productive and figure out what the fuck she was up to. It wasn't going so well. His initial assumption was that she was a spy. A defector who immediately stalks the tactician? It was an obvious explanation, but a useless one. She had defected mid battle, before the tide had turned in their favour, and they may not have carried the day without her. The effect of her treachery on enemy morale had been both sincere and significant. Especially with what she had done to her former comrades. Ricken was still having nightmares about that. Tharja's defection was no ruse.
So why? Why dog his steps, why follow him everywhere? Was she......scared? A new place, surrounded by people who had been trying to kill her a few days ago. Did staying near the tactician, someone who recognised her tactical value and had the authority to protect her, make her feel safer? He almost laughed at his own stupidity. Her? Not a chance. Loneliness, then? Possible, but why latch on to him?
Finally, he resolved to simply confront the witch. Stopping between two tents, he turned and crossed his arms. It wasn't long before she appeared, all dark hair and pale skin barely covered by sheer black cloth. After an awkward minute, he realised she wasn't going to volounteer any explanations.
"Tharja, why are you following me?"
He asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage. There was a long silence before she answered sarcastically.
"Because I want to be around you, obviously."
Opening his mouth to demand a serious answer, he noticed a furious blush making it's way across her gloomy face and realisation hit him like a kick in the stomache.
This bitch is crazy
Sighing, he turned and went back to his duties. What was the worst that could happen?
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