Author's Notes

Apparently, I'm not the first one to attempt this pairing, but let's go with it anyway! Please don't guest review!

The Wrong Recipient

Chapter 1: The Wrong Man

"Hmm... I'm not sure if you know this already, but I want you. I NEED you. Meet me behind the kitchen tent tomorrow before dinner, and we can get to know each other better... we'll dress up our very best, and perhaps we'll go somewhere just the two of us. Don't worry; you won't regret it..."

"From your special dark mage, Tharja"

"Hee hee..." Tharja chuckles to herself, holding her hand to her face as she examines her hand-written letter. "Robin could never resist this. I must admit that using such a conventional method is beyond my usual means of getting what I want, but Robin doesn't even notice me! That's why I'm changing things up a bit. Regardless of how unfamiliar I am with this type of plan, if it works for multitudes of other people, why wouldn't it work for me?"

Tharja seals the unmarked envelope after depositing the letter, and when she ruffles Robin's tent to get his attention, she runs away and jumps in the bushes to avoid being spotted. Although she can't completely see what's going on, what she can make out is a blurred figure poking their head out of the tent and, finding the letter on the ground, picks it up and starts reading it.

She grins in triumph.

"Mission accomplished," she remarks, and slinks away before anyone can notice her.

The next day, anticipating the night she's going to have, Tharja makes sure her appearance is absolutely perfect for her plan to work; the plan is to seduce Robin, of course. So, she picks out her best black dress to wear for the occasion. When she's finished, she examines the image in the mirror to look herself over. The dress is slim-fitting, made to show off the curves of the wearer, and Tharja's definitely not lacking in that department. Her hips are quite prominent, as well as her ample chest, but it's a natural look meant to enhance and beautify the wearer, not to intimidate or embarrass others.

As well, a long slit runs on the left side of the dress to expose the legs, especially when they're crossed. Finally, in conjunction with the slit, the length of the dress is actually not exact, in this case meaning that the left side of the dress ends slightly higher over her ankle than the right side, giving a more unique look to the wearer.

Yes, Robin will surely notice her this time.

"Wonderful," she coos to herself. After deeming herself ready to go, Tharja exits her tent to go to her destination; behind the kitchen tent, where she is destined to meet her future lover. However, she finds him on the way to her destination, which is surprising. It appears he's already changed, though, so it's not a problem. He probably forgot something, which is why he's walking in the opposite direction.

"Hello, Robin..." she slurs, careful to emphasis her target's name, but to her disdain, Robin merely mumbles an 'oh, hi, Tharja,' before walking away, clearly not noticing her fancy attire. The frown on Tharja's face is unmistakeable as her future husband walks away without so much as a word about her appearance.

Hmph. Perhaps he's just thinking about some sort of tactical issue or something. No matter. We still have the whole evening to figure things out...

When she arrives at the designated meeting point, she is surprised to find Chrom there, wearing formal attire; formal for Chrom, anyway, considering he's still not comfortable in anything super fancy. Either way, Chrom is not the person she's waiting for, which annoys her to no end.

"Hello, Tharja," Chrom greets Tharja, and he looks surprisingly happy to see her. "You're here! That dress really suits you, by the way."

Tharja was planning to make some snide comment, but she's dumbfounded by the prince's compliment, so she suffices in simply replying, "oh... hello Chrom."

"I must say, I'm shocked about this entire situation," Chrom starts, and he pulls out some sort of paper from his pocket. "But, I guess it's true. I showed Robin your letter I found in front of my tent yesterday, and he said it was a prank, believing that you weren't able to have romantic feelings for people..."

"Wait a second!" Tharja interrupts, and she yanks the paper out of a surprised Chrom's hands. Her face pales when she realizes that she's holding the perfectly hand-crafted letter that she painstakingly wrote yesterday.

How did this happen? I could have sworn that was Robin's tent, but...

"Is something the matter..."

"This was supposed to be for Robin, not for you!" Tharja shouts, and she rips up the letter in disgust. After the job is completed, Tharja stands there panting as Chrom just watches in disbelief. "All that work... wearing this dress, writing that letter... what a waste. What am I supposed to do now?"

Silence.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I took that letter with a grain of salt," Chrom says, clearly not offended by Tharja's reaction to the situation. "Either way, I have a reservation for two at the Royal Pavise restaurant that's in town. Might as well take advantage of it, considering we're already dressed up. Are you up for it? It will be my treat."

Tharja scowls at the suggestion, but only an idiot would turn down a free meal at a high-end restaurant, especially after eating only beans and bread for the last few months. Even though the whole army should be arriving back at Ylisse in the next few weeks, seeing as they've just recently defeated Gangrel, one can only take so much.

"...fine. Let's go."

After a ten minute walk down the path, Chrom and Tharja arrive at the town of Dregal, a mining town with many lesser nobles and high-end commodities such as lumber and ore. Even if the ore runs out, the town will still remain a crucial location, simply because it is one of the few areas in Ylisse that must be passed for any sort of exporting to occur, meaning its existence will never die out. This has lead to the ability to have high-end restaurants in the city, with the Royal Pavise at the top of the chain. Unless you are very rich, or willing to reserve seats months in advance, it is almost impossible to get a table there. Nevertheless, with Chrom being next in line to be Exalt of Ylisse, he was able to get a reservation quite easily yesterday.

"As much as I don't like getting special treatment, there are some perks to being royalty, I guess," Chrom says, and the two of them enter the grand building. Once they enter its depths, it's evident how much thought was put into the design of the decor, considering its walls are covered with gold and silver and other precious minerals. As well, the flag of Ylisse is everywhere, signifying its intense allegiance to their country and what it stands for.

To Tharja, this is not a good sign.

"Chrom, this may not be a good idea," she says, eyeing the establishment warily.

"Why do you say that?" Chrom asks in surprise. "Nothing seems out of the ordinary to me."

As they approach the reservation desk, the other men and women waiting on the benches give the duo strange looks, and a few of them even start whispering among themselves, pointing at Tharja and avoiding eye contact. Tharja immediately understands what's going on, but Chrom seems to be oblivious.

"What's wrong with people? It's like they haven't seen a man and a woman before," Chrom states, instinctively walking closer to Tharja. When they finally arrive at the reservation desk, the man stationed there gives them a welcoming smile, but the smile fades as he examines Tharja.

"I'm sorry, but I must ask you to leave," he says coldly.

"What, why?" Chrom questions him, and Tharja glares at the man in annoyance. "We have a reservation here. Is there a problem?"

"Not with you, sir, but with her. She's not allowed in here. Plegians are banned from this establishment. They've been mistreating our good nation for as long as we can remember. They killed our Exalt. They've killed many of our friends and family."

Chrom does not seem impressed with this reasoning. "We've killed many Plegians with our own soldiers. Does that not mean something? We should both be in the wrong if that's your logic."

"Let me also remind you, sir," the man starts, "that this woman in your company would be a horrible influence and image to have on display here." Pointing very manner-of-factly at Tharja, he indicates just some of the 'atrocities' that she's apparently committing: "Look at her attire. She flaunts herself in such a way that it's insulting to other women. And look at her darkened black hair. It's almost as if she's an incarnation of Grima itself with such hair, not to mention all of the pagan ornaments in it. How can we tolerate such things?"

Tharja takes huge offence at these statements. Firstly, it's not her fault she's good-looking and can display that fact to others. Other than the slit on the side of her dress, she isn't even exposing any of her skin! And secondly, Tharja has always taken pride in her hair. Hair colour is not something that should be condemned, and the ornaments are not meant to offend; they're meant to express who she is as a person.

It takes all of her willpower not to attack the man right where he stands.

"Listen, you creep," she starts, deciding instead to express her disgust in words, "it's one thing to insult a country you were previously at war with. It's another to ostracize a person simply because they're from said country, and possess physical traits that aren't 'normal', as you believe." She moves closer to the man in anger, and in response the man steps back in fear. The ferocity of Tharja's emotions is clear in her eyes, and she starts laughing eerily as she utters a threat to the man: "I could kill you right now if I wanted. I'm just a worthless Plegian, you say, so you wouldn't blame me if I did, right? Killing people and making them suffer is just something we do for fun, isn't it?"

"Come on, Tharja, we'll take our leave," Chrom declares, and he pulls Tharja away from the reservation desk. The man sighs in relief as the two get farther and farther away from the desk, but before they leave, Chrom shouts to the man, "and as the future Exalt of Ylisse, I have the authority to officially relieve you of your position here at this establishment. Good day."

The man's jaw drops as Chrom and Tharja exit the building.

"That dastard!" Chrom groans, and he sits in guilt at the front of the building with Tharja, who only looks bored now instead of angry. Putting his hands over his face, he continues, "if I had known those people were such snobs, I wouldn't have bothered. And those things he said about you... gods!"

"Well, can't do anything about it. It was strange that you trusted a Plegian to join your army, when you think about it," Tharja replies, her voice monotone. "Once, I was tempted to do something to you for your stupidity in letting me enlist with you. But your sister was a good person, and you were just trying to follow her example." A pause. "I thought that even I'm not that heartless, so I backed off."

Chrom looks up at Tharja in appreciation and surprise, and she raises an eyebrow. "What are you so happy about?"

He simply smiles. "You're a good person too. Even if you don't want to admit it."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not," she says again, but by now she's smirking too. "No point in sitting and arguing about useless facts. I'm starving. Let's go somewhere else to eat. I'm not eating Gregor's special 'Bean Bread Stew' tonight for the 300th time in a row."

Chrom chuckles. "Ha ha, good idea. Uh, I heard that the Aegis Cafe has some good food. Although, I heard Robin was going on a date with Sumia there tonight, so maybe we shouldn't..."

Tharja's eyes widen considerably.

And intense jealousy rages inside her.

"We're going there. NOW." the jealous mage commands, and she drags Chrom behind her as she determinedly walks towards their new destination. "And don't think you're going to get away with not buying me dinner, even though we're going somewhere else than originally planned."

"Okay then," Chrom reluctantly agrees.

"But..." she slowly mutters, "...I suppose I owe you a thank you for sticking up for me."

Chrom notices that there's a hint of a smile playing on Tharja's face as she says this.

Interesting... has Tharja EVER smiled at anyone other than Robin before?

Author's Notes

New multi-chapter fic! WAHOO

I had this idea in my brain for a long time, and while it was originally going to just be a one-shot, I figured out that I just have too much to put into one chapter. :p It's going to end up about three or four chapters altogether.

One thing I'm trying to accomplish with this fic is to put more effort into overall setting and stuff like that; describing places, describing people's reactions to things, and stuff like that. Description is one of my weaknesses in writing, so I'm making a special effort to put more details into the story. Even then, I know there are probably A LOT of other things I could add, but improvement is a gradual process, not immediate, so I'm happy with how this is turning out! Hey guys! You think there's an improvement in this department?

Dregal is a randomly made-up name for the town, but I'm sure you guys know where the Royal Pavise and the Aegis Cafe come from. :p I'm not sure what the term is for offending people from another country, but it's understandable that Ylissean people would feel some anger towards the Plegian. That man went too far, though. Serves him right he got fired. :p

I'm not too sure if you guys got this or not, but this takes place on the way back to Ylisse after defeating Gangrel, meaning that Chrom's not married yet. :D

That was quick! It's already time to update A Glimmer of Hope! Hope this story turns out well!