A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoy. Please review when you're done! (If you don't press the back button because it sucks.) I honestly don't expect many reviews…Thanks anyway.

Farewell, Roy of Pherae

"…A new tournament!"

Deafening cheers, whoops, hollers, applause, smiles, high-fives, excitement, and delighted laughter washed over the gathered Smashers.

None of them thought about what was to come. Since the SSB roster had only grown from 12 to 25, no one thought about Smashers being cut. Had all of them been foolish enough to think they would continue on? None of them had even thought about it. So yes, I suppose. Everybody was too enraptured in the energy of exhilaration to worry, because what was there to worry about, in their minds?

As the day passed, the contestants' enthusiasm only grew. Mario threw a party (no pun intended) for all, and everyone flocked to the Smash Hall for games, minor melees, gambling (innocently, of course), food, and drink. As they celebrated under the towering, cathedral roof, there was an undeniable air of friendship and unity among them. It simply could not be ignored, not even by the likes of Ganondorf and Bowser, whom endeavored to huff in a lone corner.

It wasn't long until a swaying Peach danced up to the Gerudo King, inviting him to come dance. He turned away rather snobbishly.

The pink princess glanced across the chamber, and in her silky-sky eyesight was Roy of Pherae. As she blushed delicately, he hastily blinked his eyes away from hers. When she turned away, he couldn't prevent his eyes from finding her curvy silhouette again. They rested on her profile as she swayed like the last leaf in the autumn gale, beautifully and elegantly. He smiled tenderly. Her sweet smile was showing again as she attempted to persuade Ganondorf to join in the festivities. How Roy wished he had the courage to ask her to dance!

Peach sighed and shook her blond ringlets. Why had she been so brainless? If only she'd understood it earlier, it might not be too late. There was no debate in her mind, anymore, that she was in love with him. His boyish charm, his impish grin, and his devilish countenance had all drawn her in, despite her first impression of him. When she'd first met him, his mischievous personality had immediately turned her off, and unknowingly she'd judged him quite harshly. She would act superior to him whenever he came around, and her tone was always scolding and contemptuous when they spoke. He, confused and saddened, had finally learned to leave her alone; the moment he didn't smile playfully at her, and instead turned his bright eyes away, she told herself, Finally, that dreadful Roy will leave me alone!

Yet not soon afterward, she found herself searching for something throughout the day. She couldn't place it, but she felt kind of empty and dull inside, as though she was missing something.

Then Roy had strolled into view, alongside his friend Marth, an excited tone in his eager voice, and Peach's heart began to drum feverishly. After much debating and reflections, she realized what she'd been to prejudice to understand: she was in love with Roy of Pherae.

But now, Peach leaned toward Ganondorf. It didn't take long for the evil warlock to be hypnotized by her wide eyes, and he joined the Mushroom Princess on the dance floor. If only Roy would come with them…

Zelda and Link were bashful around each other, kind of awkwardly shuffling around, until, with a great sigh and an irritated yet good-natured roll of his eyes, Marth came up behind him and shoved him into the princess. The Hero of Time flushed furiously, but he didn't take his arms away from her, and she didn't remove her hands from his chest. As they began to dance together (rather impressively, I might add), Marth watched as the two softened up, and began to get more comfortable. He grinned.

His bright smile faded, however, as he turned to see the F-Zero pilot Captain Falcon dancing with the beautiful ninja, Sheik. The royal swordsman grimaced, then blushed, as Zelda's alter-ego locked her stunning ruby eyes with his. He looked away hurriedly, fighting his staining cheeks.

Marth Lowell had long been infatuated with the Sheikah, but he could not help it. He could have just as easily stopped being a prince as he could stop loving Sheik. But there was something about her – the fluid, mesmerizing way she moved, the graceful, effortlessly agility and downright beauty she had when fighting, her imposing prowess in the heat of battle; her striking, blood-red eyes, gazing through him, as if she were reading his mind; her sharp laugh, seldom and glittering; her wry attitude, masking her mysterious origins and what he supposed was a painful past. All in all, her very aura was mystical and alluring, and he was enticed, captured, and fascinated by one glance of her seductive eyes.

But would she ever love him? Alas, he knew it could never be so; despite having been separated from Zelda long ago, there was still a part of Sheik in Zelda, and vice versa. He and the warrior woman were from two different worlds, and also Marth was a prince. Who was Sheik?

The logical answer was a commoner, a peasant, a fighter in rags, though the ones that came to his mind were the most beautiful of women, the worthiest, and perfect.

He sighed and began to walk away, his forehead in his palm. Oh, Sheik, if only I could tell you…

A gentle touch was upon his arm. Instinctively, he twisted around, only to stare into the face of Sheik.

Slowly she removed her cowl, and the rosy lips that were hidden underneath were curved upward into a dazzling smile.

"Will you dance with me, Marth?"

He could only nod, his eyes wide, and she grinned wider. Flattered and thrilled, she led him to a spot on the dance floor. As they danced the night away, Sheik's laughs were utterly genuine, more sincere than he had heard, and his own happiness skyrocketed to ecstasy.

As the night wore on, Roy began to grow restless. Certainly he was enjoying himself immensely, and the smile never left his face, but it was only a façade to him. Well, perhaps that's not correct. He was enthralled at the idea of a new tournament, but a little piece of him was distressed. And that little shard of pain was all caused by Peach.

To be frank, he'd been smitten with her from the first moment he'd seen her. Regardless of the cold and disdainful way she'd treated him, he could never seem to stop grinning at her. Perhaps it was her beauty: she seemed to glow when she smiled, her whole face lighting up. Maybe it was her gentleness: whenever the younger ones began to cry, she was the first to comfort them, consoling them encouragingly as they sat in her lap. Or it could be her spirit: she was so fiery, so full of life, so free-spirited. She always had her opinion, and whenever she didn't agree with something, she let you know, and most of the time, didn't care how you took it. Maybe it was because she was so driven and determined. He couldn't be sure, but all he knew was he'd fallen in love with Princess Peach.

As it began to grow later and later, the starlit sky becoming lighter and lighter, Roy stood from his chair to wander around the mansion. Perhaps it would clear his mind, he decided. Besides, the only people still dancing were the couples; Marth and Sheik were beaming, and Zelda had finally allowed herself to lean her head on Link's chest. Samus was staring at Captain Falcon as he attempted to flirt, but Roy grinned at this. Despite Samus's continuous rejection, Roy knew there was a part of her that rather enjoyed the racer's affections.

It was in everybody, was it not? Who did not want to be loved? Even Ganondorf was not an exception, even though he vehemently denied it. Roy was no exception either, and it made him all the more foolish because of it, he thought. Why waste his affections on someone who would never return them?

As the fire-haired swordsman gallivanted about, he was ceaselessly lost in his own musings. Eventually, when he could bear it no more, his thoughts turned from his desires to his hope in the new tournament. He wondered distantly who the newcomers would be.

But as he rounded the corner, he was halted by a colossal and floating white glove.

"Ah, hullo, Master Hand. How are you?" Roy asked, ever the nobleman.

The hand twitched.

"Sir?"

"Roy," he finally sighed, and the rue in his voice startled the swordsman.

He drew his eyebrows together. "What is it, sir?"

Master Hand heaved another great sigh. "Roy, I need to speak with you…please come to my office."

Alarm twirled a rather anxious knot in the pit of his tummy. "Um, of course, sir. Right away?"

"Right away," repeated the hand, then, without waiting for the worried noble, soared down the hallway. His other thoughts completely flicked away, Roy shot after him, attempting to keep up. He almost felt that he didn't want to know what this troubling new development was, but he'd rather get it over with. It was better to be hurt than to be dogged by dread, or so he felt; if there was anything he hated, absolutely loathed, it was that spiral of nervousness that overcame him during times like this.

When he ultimately reached the Master's room, he stepped inside apprehensively. The hand was awaiting him, as were, strangely enough, Mewtwo, Young Link, and Pichu. As he stared at them, his expression of bafflement didn't change. That is, until he saw Young Link sniffling, and the tiny, heart-breaking tears caressing Pichu's endearing little face.

Roy turned to their boss slowly. "What?" he said quietly, with an air of preparing himself.

"Roy…" Master Hand exhaled pointedly again; by now, Roy had to beat down an urge to rip out the Sword of Seals and thrust it through him.

With increasing rage, Roy exclaimed, "What!"

The creator sounded annoyed as he reprimanded him. "Calm down, Roy; you always did have such a bad temper…"

Now fuming, the fiery swordsman bellowed, "What is it, Master Hand?"

Master Hand tilted downward, 'looking' down upon Roy. "Roy…it's that…well…I'm sorry to tell you…oh, you don't know how much I regret it. But Roy, I have to inform you…you will not be returning for the next tournament."

All of Roy's building fury drained out of him instantly, like air out of a balloon. All of his earlier eagerness was swapped with bewilderment, astonishment, and disbelief. He was flummoxed as his jaw dropped, endeavoring to not believe it. No, no, no, this could not be true. This was a trick, a jest, a scam. It had to be.

"…What?"

Although this was the fourth time Roy repeated that, Master Hand didn't seem to mind. Rather, his voice was abundant with pity as he told him, gently, "I'm terribly sorry…please believe me Roy, I am apologetic….I did not want it this way, but matters called for it…"

"What matters, Master Hand? What have I done? I'll fix it! Please, you don't understand…I, I have nothing to – I mean, I just – I can't, I won't be – please…." He gazed up at the levitating glove, overflowing with supplication. "Please…"

Roy could not fathom what would happen if he was forced to leave the Smash Manor. He had nothing. There was nothing to return to, nothing to aspire for. His time was over, or so he had believed, until he'd joined the Smash Brothers. He hadn't been leaving anything: his home was nothing. It wasn't even a home. It was a barren waste of a place; there was nothing for him there. He hated it.

It wasn't until he'd become a Smasher Brother that he'd found true happiness; joy in togetherness, the most fun he'd ever had, true friendships, and most of all, love.

Love. Roy of Pherae nearly laughed to himself at the mere word. Like she'd ever love him. But nevertheless, no matter how ludicrous or imprudent it was, he simply could not leave her. It didn't matter to him if she didn't return his feelings – he needed to be beside her. If he could never obtain her one desire, he would settle for friendship. At least it was something.

Whereas his 'home' was nothing. There was nothing waiting for him there. What awaited him here?

If he had enough time, and if things were meant to be….Love was waiting for him here. All he needed to do was snatch it.

"Please….I cannot leave…"

"You must, Roy, and I'm pained to say, soon. At this moment, to be precise."

For the second time, Roy was thrown into denial. "What?" he cried. "No! Why?"

"I'm sorry, Roy…but I'm afraid I've waited a long while to tell you all this." Roy looked around for 'you all' and he realized that the people behind him were also leaving. Master Hand continued, "My point is that I was told this a long time ago. I wanted to protect you. You were supposed to have gone earlier, but I could not bear it…perhaps it would have been better if I told you before, you would have been ready and not taken this so harshly, but you would have had to deal with all the goodbyes, not to mention suffering through the other Smashers' celebrations. I couldn't put you through that…I'm sorry, but tomorrow's dawn is the deadline…"

The swordsman's emotions plummeted from repudiation to vague horror. "Tomorrow…"

"Yes, Roy. I'm sorry to see you all go….You were wonderful to meet, all amazing competitors. I will miss you, as will the Smash Mansion and all those who reside in it. Go on, now…pack your things, say your goodbyes if you must….Goodbye, Young Link. Fear not. You will grow into a legendary hero. Goodbye Pichu, Mewtwo. I will miss you tremendously, and I will try to keep in touch, Mewtwo. I'm sorry it must be this way….Goodbye….And farewell, Roy of Pherae."

As Roy lay upon his blankets, his eyes glassy and unseeing, his mind was numb. Endless opportunities swam before his mind's eye, pointless promises, now all broken. All the things he should have said, all the times he should have apologized, spoken up, or laughed. Every single memory was replying in his vision, and he reveled in them, however much they were torturing him. Why hadn't he done this, told her that?

Her.

A single tear rolled down his cheek, sliding into his hair. He didn't care though. All he did care about was – finding her. What was he doing? Laying here sobbing? How despicable.

In an instant he bolted off his bed, his mind attempt to compose his thoughts into something acceptable to say to her. I love you. I'm sorry I…If you don't mind me saying so…when I first saw you…no, none of that was right…

Abruptly he halted at the door. He was leaving. Never to return…

Perhaps it would be better if he didn't say anything; no, nothing at all. She'd never have to be distressed about it….Maybe she'd even be disturbed by his confession. And even if – if she did, that is to say, love him, it wouldn't work…he was leaving.

Curse Master Hand and his useless 'protection'! What had it done but bring him more pain? There was no logic in telling her now…perhaps if he'd known earlier, they could have spent more time together…

As he slumped to his drawers, he grabbed a large burlap sack. He threw everything inside hastily, indifferently, his brain centered on a completely different thing. Peach's smiling face haunted him, and her glittering giggle echoed around his mind. Two things he would never see or hear again.

Roy murmured her name quietly to himself. Would he ever address her again?

"Roy!"

The door flew open briskly, slamming straight into the opposite wall, no doubt awaking his neighbors. When he spun around to the intruder, his heart began to throb agonizingly, yet passionately.

There stood Peach, her blond waves slightly disheveled, her dress slightly mussed, as though she'd been sprinting. As he permitted an expression of puzzlement to cross his face, he said casually, "Oh hello, Peach." He cautiously concealed the satisfaction her name brought his tongue as he continued to look at her.

The atmosphere thickened rather rapidly with awkwardness as she continued to stand there, in the threshold, wringing out her dress in her clutching hands. After a bit, in which she wouldn't look him in the eye, she whispered, "May I come in?"

Roy laughed shortly. "I believe you already have." Her head shot up. "But yes."

She broke into a slight smile. "I'm sorry," said she, as she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "It's just that…Roy, I mean, Master Hand said—"

Roy looked away. "You heard?"

"That's why I came run – er, up here," Peach said breathlessly. Finally her piercing blue gaze met his. The last thing he saw was a betraying tear streaking down her elegant face.

And unexpectedly her lips were on his, her sweet, innocent, delicious lips. She kissed him fervently, with much more force than he'd ever daydreamed about, but he didn't care. He kissed her back just as passionately, ardent and energetic. She was all he had ever wanted; this was all he would ever need.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she entwined hers around his neck. Unthinkingly Roy deepened the kiss, and she pulled him closer to her, so there was no space between them. How amazing she tasted; fiery and tempting, she was like a drug. The most addictive drug there was.

But behind them, the sun was rising; indeed, it had been making its show ever since Roy had left the Smash Hall, but now it seemed to emerge far too swiftly. As the first, detested ray swept the swordsman's face, he very reluctantly broke apart from Peach.

She gazed steadily at him, her cerulean eyes unwavering, but tears were already plunging from them. Roy closed his eyes, attempting to be strong. Why couldn't he?

The princess dropped her head on his chest, and he savored the feel of her, her intoxicating fragrance, the way she fit perfectly into his arms. Could he ever bear to let her go?

It would appear he had to, as she stepped out of his embrace. Wiping her eyes, she gazed toward the sun.

"You have to leave," she whispered, her lovable voice breaking.

"I know," he sighed, wishing it could be any other way but this.

Gently she tugged the bag out of his unconscious grip. Exhaling a trembling breath, she gestured toward the open drawers. "C'mon…don't want to be any later than you have to be…"

Though of she did. She wanted him to be late as possible, anything to stay in her presence longer. As he resumed packing, quite sluggishly, the two talked. They chuckled over fond memories, chatted a bit about the other Smashers, and who else was leaving. Roy began to speculate about the next tournament, and this was when Peach couldn't contain her tears any longer.

"Hey," he said soothingly, interweaving his fingers with hers. "It's gonna be okay…"

She shook her head. "You can't promise that. It's not true, Roy, you know it's not…"

"Well," he said, lightly raising her face to his with his other hand, "Maybe not. But I love you."

Her breath caught, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. Wonder was building in her eyes, and suddenly she smiled hugely. She was beaming, glowing; her face was alight in joy and she lunged forward to kiss him again. He caught her deftly and kissed her back, just as tenderly, but they were both jolted as someone knocked on the door.

"Hey, Roy," someone said quietly. "Can I talk to you?"

The red-haired swordsman let go of Peach and sighed, looking at her. She smiled sadly. She mouthed, 'it's Marth' and Roy nodded.

He opened the door, Peach clinging to his arm. Marth looked astonished, to the say the least, his face turning red. "Uh, I – I'm sorry, I'll—"

Roy chuckled, while Peach laughed. "It's fine, Marth," Peach told him, showing him into the chamber graciously. "I'll go check on Young Link," she said tactfully, appearing thoughtful, sweeping out of the room. However, before she left, she swiftly stole a kiss from Roy's surprised lips. He was incredibly pained to see her go, but he breathed deeply and turned to Marth.

The blue-haired prince had let his jaw go slack, and Roy laughed. Eventually Marth joined in, but his face was still awed. "Wow, Roy," he said, after they had finished. "When did that happen?"

Roy waved his hand. "It's a long story, and, as we both know, I don't have time…"

Marth's face fell, and he studied his polished boots determinedly. "I don't want you to go, Roy," he said, his gaze still on the floor. "You're…you're my best friend. This isn't just. You can't just leave. Master Hand is wrong."

"I know…" Roy sighed, for what seemed the umpteenth time in an hour. "You're my best friend too, Marth, and I don't know what I'm going to do…"

Marth looked up at him.

"I have nothing to return to," Roy explained. "Nowhere to call home. Yet I'm being kicked out. I must've really been horrible," he laughed tersely, humorlessly.

Marth shook his head. "I don't know…but I'll miss you Roy."

"Yeah…I'll miss you too."

As Roy trooped down the stairs, he was met by Peach. Marth and the princess at his side, the noble swordsman reached the grand doors. Here Marth muttered something about "shining my sword" and made to dart away, before he remembered Roy among his embarrassment.

"Goodbye, Roy. I hope I'll see you again."

Roy swallowed the lump in his throat. "Goodbye, Marth."

The two swordsmen grasped each other's arms and threw the other around each other. After a second, they parted, and Marth smiled sorrowfully. "See you…"

Peach watched him go with a sad smile, similar to Marth's, playing on her mouth. "Well, Roy," she began, but her lips were quivering. She stared down, and Roy heard her quiet sniffles.

"Shh, Peach…" he murmured, embracing her again. She finally looked up, and Roy was impressed to see she had composed herself.

"Roy." Peach's voice was serious. "When you're gone…think of me, please. Remember me, every once in a while…promise? Please promise me you'll try. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me, when you're sad, or you need…if you need to be free."

"Peach, I'll never forget you."

"Maybe not," she grinned tearfully. "But we never said our love was unchanging. I don't know – there are so many opportunities in the world. Maybe you'll take one…and forget. Just think about me, and all the things we've shared and seen and experienced…"

"How could I? I don't think I will take those 'opportunities,' Peach. Trust me, my life outside of here is basically nonexistent…"

"There's my silver lining," she whispered, kissing him again. They separated, for perhaps the final time.

Holding her, he said, "I just wish it could be different…"

"No," said Peach, looking intently at him. "Don't think about the way things might have been. There is no 'might have been.' There's only what happened…remember that, Roy…and please, remember me."

The noble couldn't bear it. "I will. I will, Peach."

Princess Peach bestowed one last warm smile upon him, and the very beauty of it seared into his mind. It would forever be there, like a mark upon his heart. Love was flowing out of her, but Roy was extraordinarily tormented in knowing it was the last time he would see it.

"There will never be a day when I don't think of you."

His last memory of the Smash Mansion was of her loving, beautiful smile, and the feel of her lips on his, and her hand in the air as she waved goodbye.

Goodbye, goodbye forever…

"Farewell, Roy of Pherae."

A/N: Hmm. Well, this was kind of just an experiment. I like to experiment with my writing, and decided to try a Roy/Peach one-shot…did it turn out okay? I don't think it was horrible…but I'm not very proud of it…just tell me what you think. Oh yes, the fact that I wrote in some Phantom of the Opera lyrics: yah, they're not mine. Sorry if there's bad grammar; I just found out we have no school tomorrow, and it became hard to write because I was so excited.

And yeah, that's right, I'm B.A. I totally just broke all the rules with that Marth/Sheik mention. Imma rebel. (Normally I don't go for the whole 'Zelda and Sheik are two different people' thing but what the hey.) Also, I've never played Roy's game, so sorry if I messed anything up.

Maybe I'll write a one-shot of them, if this didn't blow that much. Anyway, thanks for reading. I'll enjoy a review, positive or negative.

~ClumsyHeart17