Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9247451.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Fire_Emblem:_Kakusei_|_Fire_Emblem:_Awakening
  Relationship:
      Male_My_Unit_|_Avatar/Sallya_|_Tharja
  Character:
      Male_My_Unit_|_Avatar, Sallya_|_Tharja
  Additional Tags:
      Cross-Posted_on_FanFiction.Net, Coming_of_Age, Dom/sub, keeping_it_a
      secret_from_everyone_else, discovering_you_have_children_via_time_travel
      and_they're_older_than_you, a_side_of_humor
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-08 Chapters: 11/? Words: 31803
****** In Security ******
by drunkdragon
Summary
     Loneliness and frustration were not new feelings for Robin, but he
     never thought he would expect it at Chrom's wedding. Except he's
     never really alone because Tharja is always watching him and things
     suddenly become a whole lot more complicated between the two of them.
***** 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.
***** Fantasies *****
"Gods, what-!"
Much to Tharja's surprise, the first thing Robin did after staring at her in
horrid realization was immediately duck under the sheets, hastily covering
himself before backing against the wall next to the bed. He had reflexively
shrugged off her hex like it was second nature and moved against her will.
Initially she recoiled, but slowly she found herself excitedly smiling at the
prospect.
She couldn't control him with mere hexes. This would explain why a good
majority of her stronger and less subtle enchantments on him had little to no
effect. If he realized it or had a strong reaction that forced him to act
contrary to what the spell permitted, he would break free. If she were to use
something on him, he would have to either willfully accept it or it would need
to be so subtle that he didn't realize the spell was cast on him until it had
fully taken root. There was the last option of casting a hex so powerful that
he could not fight it off, but that was something that she doubted she would
want to put on him.
A challenge.
His head finally popped out from beneath the blankets, blushing hard and
staring at her painfully, like he had been violated. "Tharja, what are you
doing here?"
He was afraid of her smile, and it only made her lips curl even more. "This is
my room, Tharja! Why are you in here?" he yelled.
This also meant that unfortunately, getting the truth out of him would not be
easy. She needed something more powerful than just mere words unlike most
subjects. The next course of action was to obtain an object that could have
been considered the essence of the person. It was perhaps a toy that they loved
to play with or a trinket that they held dear to his or her heart. Something
that carried a deep and important connection to the person.
And she knew exactly what she wanted to use.
"H-How did you even get into my room?"
She ignored the question for now. Instead, she turned her head, her eyes still
locked on his as she sauntered over to his desk. Very slowly, she opened a
drawer that she had seen him open countless times. Her hand slinked in and
grasped the corner of that handkerchief, that piece of cloth he used to clean
himself up with and slowly pulled it out, finally turning her gaze from him to
inspect it.
Her words and actions finally hit him and a gasp came from his throat. "You… Y-
You've seen me before… haven't you?"
She couldn't see much of it in the pale moonlight, preventing her from
inspecting it closely. But she could sense other things. It smelled of lavender
and the handkerchief was soft to the touch, but there were sharp creases and
folds and the edges held their shape well. He was obviously taking care of the
piece of cloth carefully to make sure no one knew what it was for, perhaps even
washing it after every use.
It was absolutely perfect.
===============================================================================
The way Tharja stared at the piece of cloth greatly concerned him. She knew
what it was for. She had to have known that he used it to wipe the cum from his
body after he masturbated. And the only way she could have known was if she had
seen him use it, which meant that this wasn't the first time she had intruded
on him.
Her hands softly traced the cloth, feeling its surface and turning it over,
leaving none of it unchecked. Slowly, she moved over to the far corner of his
bed and sat on it and he felt himself reflexively tuck himself away further
into the corner of the wall.
Her eyes seemed to glisten in the darkness a little, maybe even glowing.
"So who did you beat off to tonight?"
Before he could think of an answer, his lips opened of his own accord.
"You."
His hand immediately flew to his mouth and he felt his eyes widen in disbelief.
His cheeks burned hot as Tharja, visibly shocked at his answer, turned to him
in surprise. Her lips, however, then curled into an even larger smile and he
suddenly felt like he wanted to lump up into a ball and die in the protection
of his blankets, as ineffective and impossible as the thought would have been.
He attempted to shrink into the corner even more, hoping that the wall would
simply open up and swallow him.
"Me, was it?"
Her hand that held the handkerchief suddenly went low to her lap, the cloth
sitting atop her thighs. Perhaps she had lost interest in it, he hoped, but
instead she turned her gaze away, looking at the ceiling and leaned back, her
other arm supporting her weight. In spite of the dim lighting, he could see
every contour and curve of her. The mesh clothing on her skin suddenly felt
invisible, leaving only the cape around her shoulders and the solid strips of
cloth blocking the more intimate parts of her body.
He tried to shake the thoughts away. This was the last thing he ought to be
entertaining himself with. She had intruded on him! Watched him in his most
private moments and seen him- his-
"I wonder," the words rolled slowly off of her tongue, "what did you have me
do?"
She painstakingly dragged the cloth up across her body and his throat went dry.
He didn't have to be watching her face to hear her smile, to know her gaze was
once again upon him. "Perhaps I approached you?" the handkerchief dragged up
past her flat stomach and stopped between her breasts. "Begged you for sexual
release?"
"Or maybe you forced yourself upon me and made me obey your every burning
desire?"
She was pleased that she had so aptly caught his attention with such a simple
movement.
"Did you have me struggle? Or was I eager and complacent, more than happy to
oblige with your wishes, to become your plaything for the night?"
She turned away from him before lying flat on her back, the red cloth splayed
on her chest. She was suddenly closer to him, her head close to his feet, and
yet he found himself unbidden to hide or push her away.
"Tell me."
It wasn't even a command, merely and inquiry, and yet he found his lips parting
again to speak.
"I had you use your mouth."
Her cursed lips parted and her tongue peeked out, a small, small triangle of
flesh, and slowly ran it across her upper lip and he shivered.
"Continue. Was I good?"
"You were relentless and I… I came down your throat. Then I pulled your head
back and sprayed the rest on your chest."
She gave a low moan and her eyes closed. She let go of the cloth, dragging a
finger up her neck and liking the tip. The implication was not lost upon Robin.
"Then what happened? Did I clean up the mess, swallowing all of your cum?"
"I didn't let you," his voice became firm. "I pushed you down, s-spread your
legs and… and-"
"And?" she said without condemnation, without shame.
His lips moved to part and he tried to bite it closed.
"Won't you tell me?" her legs slowly spread apart and her other hand drifted to
the inside of her thigh. "Won't you describe how you fucked me?"
This time he opened his mouth on his own accord, voice becoming uncertain. His
hand went to cover his eyes. "Why am I telling you this, Tharja?" His voice
wavered and the small beginnings of a lump started to form in the back of his
throat. Great. Now his anger turned to shame and he felt like he was going to
cry, like she was almost scolding him. "Gods, this is so stupid."
She slowly sat back up, clutching the cloth to her chest, holding it tight like
it was suddenly precious to her before turning to him. "Because I've been
following you, watching your every move."
"Yes, I know. We've…" he tried to breathe and calm down. He didn't want to cry
here. Not in front of her after all this, after he somehow laid everything in
front of her in the most vulnerable of situations. He didn't want a pity party.
"We've had that conversation before." Gods, if only he knew how far she-
"And I know that deep down inside, you crave a relationship with the opposite
sex and all that comes with it."
His eyes snapped up, suddenly focused on her. "What makes you feel that way?"
All thoughts of fear and self-pity left him and was replaced with apprehension.
She merely smiled, and stood up. "That's not important," she stared at him.
"What is important is that I can provide you with one, but it's not going to be
what you have in mind."
"W-What do you mean?" he was sure he sounded more eager than he wanted to be.
"Heh heh," she gave a small chuckle. "You'll see tomorrow. I'm sure you'll want
to learn more."
She started to make her way to the door, and he was so very sure that she was
purposely putting one foot in front of the other to make her hips sway just a
little bit.
"Oh," her right hand held out the red handkerchief and she turned over her
shoulder to look at him. He felt his face cheeks burn again under her smiling
gaze. "I'll be holding onto this for now. And don't worry. Your fantasy is safe
with me."
And just as suddenly she appeared, she slipped out the door and left his room.
His body did not move for a moment, still hiding beneath his blankets.
Then it registered in his mind that the door was not locked. In sharp
realization he threw them off and dashed over to the door, making sure that the
bolt was tucked away and shook the door fiercely. It did not budge, proof that
it was finally locked and he stepped back, panting a little.
Gods, that woman! What did she have planned for him? As if he would want to be
in a relationship with her after she so brazenly watched him as he was
masturbating! This was the dumbest idea he had ever heard coming from her lips!
This was even worse than when she suggested casting an attraction hex on him to
make fighting female soldiers easier.
Why did she single him out, of all of the Shepherds? What did she see in him?
He was short, young, and not even "legal", as Sully so aptly put it.
Why did she go after him? And why… why did…
Why did he have an erection?
***** Experience *****
Robin needed to find Tharja.
It was the sole thought that occupied his mind through the sleepless night and
much of the day. He had tried to take a cold bath early in the morning, dumping
bucket after bucket of water from a nearby river over his head. It got the ale
smell out of his hair, but offered little comfort by itself.
He then attempted to study, poring over his tomes and trying to absorb the
battle formations and strategies of wars past. But his thoughts refused to stay
put, wandering around and drifting back to trying to solve why Tharja would do
all of this to him. Was it out of spite for defeating her homeland? The woman
didn't seem to be the patriotic type.
He had even tried to tackle Frederick's rigorous obstacle course, of which the
first challenge after a two-hundred yard sprint was a nine-foot high brick
wall, more than twice his height, with no handholds. It wasn't a difficult
issue. If he ran at it fast enough and carefully jumped and measured the force
he exerted against it with his feet, he could run up it just a tiny little bit
and he could grab the top and start to pull himself over.
However, luck would have it that his footing slipped and while he was able to
grasp the top and hold onto it, this meant that the rest of his body came into
contact with the wall. Normally, this would not have been painful.
However, the moment his persistent erection came into contact against the wall,
he gave a cry and let go of the top. His feet hit the ground unevenly and he
toppled backward, the landing knocking the wind out of him in a pitiful
whimper. It had nearly been a direct blow to the tip, the pain causing him to
roll onto his side as he tried to massage the hurting region and regain his
breath.
This had to have been the most annoying thing ever to be afflicted with, he
thought to himself. It was the sole reason why he had been awake for the whole
night and bothered and distracted for the entire day.
It was not normal. He had read some medical manuals before and most described
such prolonged, unwanted arousal as painful. But what he experienced was as
usual as a persistent erection could be. Beating off felt natural, as he
discovered when he tried to solve the issue on his own during his bath, but
whenever he came close, somehow the threshold would push itself just a little
further. For a while he kept trying, moving faster, and gripping tighter,
thinking of anything he considered hot and then throwing them all into one
giant orgy. But it was to no avail, finally slamming his hand down with a
defeated groan on the top of the water's surface.
For what had to have been the thirtieth time, Robin reminded himself that he
needed to find Tharja.
===============================================================================
When Robin finally located her, it was in the place where he last expected it:
the mess hall. It's not that Tharja didn't eat, it's just that more often than
not she would take her meal to her tent or quarters where she would eat in
solitude. Very rarely did she come out to eat with the rest of the Shepherds.
He began to trudge over to where she sat, carefully holding a book across his
waist in an attempt to hide his erection. But Tharja seemed to immediately
sense his presence as she slowly turned to look at him, that smirk once again
on her face. He felt himself pause, wary of continuing forth as her eyes locked
onto his. Eventually, however, he worked up his courage and walked the rest of
the way to her spot, sitting on the bench to her side.
"So have you given my proposition any thought?" She fiddled with her fork,
twirling it around on the half-eaten plate in front of her. Her eyes turned
away from him, instead focusing on one of the cream puffs on a plate in front
of her.
Straight to business, then. He gave a huff. "Not really. It's hard to think
when you've got a…" his cheeks turned a tiny bit pink, "y-you know what you
did."
"Why, Robin, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Setting the
utensil down, her hand slipped beneath the table, settling on her lap. "Please,
tell me, what has been bothering you? I'm sure I can take good care of you."
"Tharja, look. I don't want you to play stupid with me," he tersely said, doing
his best to ignore her innuendo. "Why? What do you want to accomplish here?"
"Well, I see that you have a problem and I have an answer." Her hand moved
confidently onto his lap and he felt himself freeze. Very slowly it began to
trace up and down, her fingers softly digging into his inner thigh, making his
body tingle and heart flutter. "I just needed to make sure you'd come back to
me."
"And giving me an everlasting boner is your preferred form of persuasion?" he
hissed. "What do you want?"
He felt her fingers dig closer to his member and tried to stay calm. "I just
see that you've been… upset about a few things, recently," she chuckled. "And I
can offer you a solution." She reached forward and grabbed one of the pastries
and took a bite out of it, some of the cream gushing out and smudging against
her lips.
He tried not to think of his fantasy from last night, especially in front of
Tharja. But then she took out that red handkerchief from underneath the cloth
that covered her breasts and slowly wiped off the cream. He felt his throat go
dry.
She knew what that cloth was for. She had to have known that his cum had been
on that rag before and now it looked like she- that she was-
Nonononono. Don't think about it. That wasn't his cum on her lips. That was
just cream.
Cream that she was slowly licking off his handkerchief.
He forced himself to speak. "And what… what would you propose?" He tried to be
careful with his words. The last thing he wanted was to have Tharja turn them
against him.
Her hand traveled upward and he gave a short, uncomfortable yelp when she
rubbed a finger up his hardened length.
"Sex." The word smoothly rolled off of her tongue.
Gods, was she serious? "You're kidding me." He turned his distracted stare away
from her. The heat in his cheeks was becoming even stronger and he hoped that
everyone else was too busy enjoying a nice relaxing dinner to see him being
fondled right in front of them.
"It's strange. From a glance you are hardly my type, but… there is something
about you that I just can't pull away from." His breathing started to become a
little deeper and slower, doing his best to contain the strange sensation of
having another person touch his cock. It was so much more different than his
hand. It tingled and sent jolts of electricity that made him bite his lip.
"Y-You've been with someone before, right?" he cautiously asked between
breaths.
"I've had two real relations in the past, and at one point I was strictly
seeing another woman for sex."
"A woman?" the new fact almost made him forgot she was molesting him beneath
the table until she gave him another squeeze.
"She taught me everything I needed to know about myself and what I liked. She
was quite good as a mistress, too, but we parted ways. I suppose it gave me the
opportunity to grow my own skills."
He felt afraid to ask, but he was driven by the need to know. "What exactly did
she teach you?" Her fingers curled around him through his pants and he grunted
in surprise as she turned to face him.
"Dominating."
A wicked grin curled on her lips and he felt a chill go down his spine with her
answer, one that was not related to how a finger had slipped beneath his waist
band. He fought to not shudder, but his breath hitched.
"Do…Dominating?"
"I like being in control, having someone willingly powerless before you while
you tease and prod away at them. It's quite fun for both parties, usually."
"Fun?" It made no sense to Robin. "Why would someone enjoy having no control
during sex?"
"That," her finger was now running side to side along his waist and it was
driving him insane with both worry and anxiety, "depends on how good the master
is. And I know that right now," her hand was now all the way in his
smallclothes, brushing directly against the tip of his member and his body
stiffened in reaction, "I want you."
"A-As in, you want to…" he tried to keep his voice low, but he couldn't stop
the disbelief in them, "to… to dominate me?"
"Every little bit of you." Her fingers wrapped around his hardened member and
gave a light stroke. A quick gasp escaped his lips, but he bit down the rest of
it. "What do you say to a trial, hm?"
"This has to be the craziest thing ever," he threw himself on the table,
burying his head beneath his arms. "Here you are, molesting me, and you want to
offer me a deal."
"I show you how enjoyable it can be and you decide if you want more." He tried
to ignore that pulling feeling in his navel when she started to play around
with his member even more. "I can make you feel good."
The temptation was real. He had been trying to find the damned woman all day
and his erection had more than just bothered him. It frustrated him beyond
belief, to know that this particular aspect of him was no longer in his
control.
"W-When you dominate," he turned his head to the side, looking into her eyes,
"what exactly do you do?"
"It depends on the person and how they like it," she slowly explained. "There
are those that want a physical submission. Tied up, a little bit of pain, a
sharp lash on the back. Others like me prefer to look for more of a mental
submission, obeying my every command."
"That doesn't sound very fun to me…"
Tharja stayed silent for a moment, caressing him as she studied his features.
"You've never been with anyone, have you?"
He felt his cheeks burn even hotter. "Yeah, I haven't. I-I'm still a… a
virgin." The words tumbled from his mouth with difficulty.
"So come and fix that with me. I'll take care of everything." Her other hand
tucked the red handkerchief back into her bosom. "I think you'll like it."
He told himself it was the stupidest idea ever. Tharja was a creepy lady who
liked strange things. She used hexes to get what she wanted. She spied on him
while he was fapping. Nothing good could really come from a situation like
this.
And yet, with slow stroke after slow stroke beneath the table, he found himself
buckling. He could feel her fingers becoming just a little slick as they
obtained a light coating of precum from his tip. His mind screamed for orgasm,
but his body wouldn't let him. Another pull from her, a tighter, faster one,
and he felt himself shudder, a strangled moan coming from his lips.
And thus he found himself agreeing.
"A-Alright. Alright. What do we do?"
Her smile was wide, victorious, as she withdrew her hand from his pants. He
suddenly found himself sorely missing the contact and he felt that pulling
feeling again when she licked the tip of her finger.
"Go to your room."
***** Skilled Hands *****
After she told him to head to his quarters, Robin made a straight beeline to
his room and began to wait. Questions began to go through his mind the moment
he stood up from the bench, hiding his erection as he carefully walked through
the castle corridors. What was sex really like? Should he be preparing
anything? Was he biting off more than he could chew? Would the fact that he was
about to have sex with his stalker make it awkward? Would the size of his dick
be too small for her tastes? Did size really matter? Was Tharja really going to
remove that hex from him?
And was this supposed "G-spot" real or was Gaius just trying to trick him out
of dessert that one night? He had a feeling that the thief was lying because he
told him that the G stood for Gaius, which Robin was not buying at all.
But that was more than an hour ago.
Robin had eyed the candles on his desk as the wicks burned while he tried to
mentally prepare himself, and by now he was more than antsy. Did she forget?
Did she change her mind and suddenly not tell him? Was this all some sort of
sick, twisted joke? A part of him still couldn't believe that this was
happening, and perhaps that part was winning out.
Gods, Tharja could probably pick him up and plop him into her lap! How was that
even remotely sexy?
But then… all that watching and… and touching, why? She couldn't have just been
playing around with him, not like that… could it? And the whole idea about
dominating someone, what would that entail for him?
Was she getting rope?
No.
No, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not.
Ignore the erection. He needed to get out of there now. Scrambling off of his
bed, he quickly moved toward the door. With a quick movement he unlocked it and
pulled it open.
He found himself staring at the slightly lower half of a pair of breasts,
covered only by mesh, strips of dark fabric, and a tuft of his red handkerchief
that stuck out from beneath it.
"Heh, eager, are we Robin?" she walked straight to him and he swore he could
feel the body heat radiating from her chest. "I didn't even need to knock on
the door."
"Th-Tharja?" his voice went dry as he looked up at her, trying to ignore how
suddenly powerless he felt as he struggled to ignore how prominent her chest
was from this angle. "W-What took so long?" he backed away from her a little.
Was she preparing another hex for him? Please don't let it be a hex. Or ropes.
"I was still eating dinner. The cream puffs were delicious. I just had to… lick
it all up." That smirk came back onto her face, knowing full well that at the
mention of the confectionery he was thinking about the red cloth tucked in away
in her chest.
"But enough talk," she leaned forward so she was eye level with him and he
could not stop himself from looking at her cleavage. "I think it's time for you
to see what this is all about." With a quick tap from her foot, she shut the
door behind him. A snap from her fingers and Robin felt his eyes widen as the
deadbolt slid into place.
Oh gods, this was really going to happen. It couldn't be that bad, right? He
didn't see any rope so far and it's not like she could hide things in what she
wore. Maybe she was just trying to scare him with all that stuff about ropes
and they would instead settle for normal and consensual acts of lovemaking. His
heart quickened as she straightened up, that smile still upon her. In the dim
candles it seemed long and harsh as a low chuckle came from her lips.
"Leave this to me," her voice was slow, "Turn around and just relax," she
ordered.
"Look, Tharja, can't we just... you know, call it off?" he nervously said. She
deftly moved towards him and cupped his crotch area, the base of her palm
rubbing against his hardened length, making him hiss.
"And leave you like this?" she whispered into his ears. She slinked around his
body and his heart pounded against his chest. He swore he felt it in the back
of his throat. "Don't be silly."
"But since this is your first time, we'll take this slow." She gently traced
her hands onto his shoulder, holding them in a light grasp. His back tensed and
he tried to stay calm. "Real slow."
He tried not to freak out over the fact that her boobs were almost on his head.
He became aware that he was breathing a little heavier than usual. Was it
worry? Anxiety? Her fingers began to slowly trail down the sides of his coat,
tracing his arms and her index fingers drawing circles along the cloth and from
the heat on his face he could tell that he was blushing hard.
He felt like he wanted to close his eyes, but he tried to remain focused, doing
his best to make sure that Tharja wasn't going to pull some kind of surprise on
him. But her hands simply continued to trail over his tactician's coat, moving
back up his shoulders before grasping the sides of his chest and firmly
dragging down. He let out a quick yelp, fighting to keep from twitching from
the sensation.
"Heh, just relax, Robin."
And yet he couldn't help but stiffen when he felt her fingers move around to
his hips, giving him a momentary but firm squeeze before trailing back up the
front of his body to his collar. Her fingers curled around the material and
slowly pulled it off, tantalizing his skin in an unfamiliar but good way. Then
her hands wound around the front of his chest, one of them stopping above his
heart while the other went down into the hem of his pants, stroking his member
through the cloth once more. His breathing picked up even faster, now, that
toying feeling beginning to drive him insane.
Gods, she had toyed with him for the whole of last night and today, and yet
here she was, still playing with him. As enjoyable as the feelings were, a
frustrated groan came from his lips. He didn't mean to express unhappiness. It
just came naturally, much to his-
"Ah!" he flinched and would have thrown himself from Tharja's grasp had she not
been holding onto him. She chuckled at his reaction, her teeth continuing to
nip at his left ear before dragging her tongue down his neck.
"S-Sorry," he floundered, feeling his cheeks burn. "I didn't… I was-"
Her ministrations had stopped. "Put your cloak back on."
"What?" Robin sounded more crestfallen than he knew he could, almost whimpering
at the loss of contact.
Her hands left his body completely and he turned around, almost bewildered.
"It's a simple order." To his annoyance, that smile came up again on her lips.
"Put your cloak back on."
"Urgh… fine." Stooping over, Robin picked up the cloak and put it on, turning
around so she was behind him again. This time Tharja's hands started at his
waist, trailing up and down the sides before circling around his arms and up
the shoulders. The rise in his breathing came again and his pants felt tighter
than he recalled them to be. That nip returned to his left ear as her hands
prowled around him, pulling his cloak off once she was satisfied.
As soon as it touched the ground, she began to feel his shirt beneath it,
making sure to spend extra time over Robin's heart and abdomen. It made him
twitch and grunt and when Tharja slipped a hand beneath it, touching his skin
directly and he stiffened.
"Relax, Robin." She whispered again into his ear before pulling the shirt over
his head and off his body. "Follow my lead." A finger went to his lips and
trailed straight down the center of his body, leaving what could have been
electricity in its waking touch. Without hesitation the hand dove into his
waistband and began to touch his hard member again. The other went beneath the
clothes as well, this one cupping and squeezing his hips.
He became aware that his hands on his sides were clenching and unclenching with
the sensations, and it felt unnatural to him that he was unable to touch her on
his own.
"Tharja, I'm just… standing here doing nothing. Should I be doing something?"
He immediately regretted his words when Tharja quickly withdrew her hands from
his body.
"Put your shirt back on."
"Wait, why do I-" Robin didn't have to turn around to know she was smirking at
him again, but he did anyway. And he was right.
"And now your cloak, too."
He gave the most frustrated groan he could have given off in his life. "AGAIN?"
He ignored her command. Was she making fun of him? Teasing him for something
beyond sexual purposes? "Why do I have to put my clothes back on?"
Her smile only grew wider. "Heh heh, you still haven't caught on, have you?"
"Caught on to what?"
"Put your clothes back on and I'll tell you."
Robin heaved another sigh before stooping over to pick up his shirt. "I don't
like this so far, just so you know." Tossing it on, he grabbed his cloak and
threw it over his shoulders, putting his arm through the sleeves. "If this is
supposed to feel good, I don't think it's working out for me in the end." He
turned around again, his back facing her. "There. Now tell me what you wanted
to say, Tharja."
She chuckled and leaned over his ear, hands trailing even slower than the first
time. She drew more circles as she went down his arms once more before slowly
traveling down towards his waistband, but stopping just short to go back up the
inside of his cloak. "It's a simple rule, Robin." As annoyed as he was, he
could not deny how tantalizing the slow movements were.
Her fingers pulled the purple material off, exposing his shirt again. "Making
noise is okay."
She purposely leaned forward, mashing the top of her breasts against his
shoulders and he felt himself stiffen once more, her hands going under his
shirt and pulling it off for him. The cold air stung his chest before Tharja's
welcome ministrations covered him again, a hand pinching the skin above where
his heart was pounding against his flesh.
"Talking isn't." A hand trailed back down below his waistband and into his
smallclothes directly. He felt her circle around him, stroking him in the most
painfully slow manner possible.
She bit his ear and he whimpered, head leaning back and eyes shut.
So that was her game.
She whispered into his ear, "Good boy." Her hands gathered at his waist again,
her thumbs hooking the material and dragging it down little by little. Gravity
did the rest of the work and his erect member sprung forth against the cold
air, a quick gasp escaping him.
Tharja pulled her hands away and this time she gave another order, kicking away
his clothes.
"Kneel."
Robin took a deep breath, shakily letting it out as he went on his knees. He
felt Tharja moving down behind him as well and she began to lick and suckle his
neck again. Her hand trailed straight down his chest while the other stroked
his thighs, silently motioning to spread his legs apart.
When they were far enough, the hand on his thigh trailed up to loosely hold his
cock, gently stroking again, fingers trailing over the tip. His breathing came
quick once more and his head tilted down.
There was a quick rustle of cloth and he realized that the red handkerchief had
been laid out in front of him. Her stroking became harder and a lost moan came
from his lips, his heart pounding in the ear Tharja was biting.
===============================================================================
She almost could not believe what was before her. The army's tactician was
putty in her hands. His skin was flushed and hot, his mind driven by carnal
desire, his kneeling form in front of her, all because she decided that it was
time to reveal herself.
A part in the back of her mind knew she was taking advantage of his jealousy
and anger, his loneliness and longing. It was wrong to touch someone so young
like this. And yet she could not help but let her desires fuel her motions.
Maybe it was how his body attempted to relax, to try and rationalize to his
mind that this was not unusual, and yet stiffening with each stroke. It could
have been his hands, constantly flexing and unflexing, attempting to grab
something soft that wasn't there. Perhaps it was the way he was trying to stay
in control, delicately biting his lip in a pale effort to try and stem his
voice.
She wanted to hear him cry in pleasure, to feel his member throb in her hands,
to see him shattered and lost in orgasm.
But she had to be patient for just a little while longer. She wasn't about to
let haste ruin the opportunity. There was one last thing she wanted to say, and
then she would relent.
Pulling her body up against his, dragging her breasts up his back again, she
leaned in to his ear.
"Beg for it," she whispered before sucking his ear again.
Robin never begged before. Tharja knew he wanted to ask, to speak and wonder
what exactly she meant. It was a new feeling for him, to have to ask for
something and know that it might not happen. Though he had the power to step
away, to have her stop, she knew that it was the last thing on his mind. "Tell
me how bad you want it."
He shivered in her grasp, still biting his lip softly.
"Tell me, and I can make you feel good."
His mouth shakily opened, "Th-Tharja, please-"
Yessssssssss.
Her grip on his cock tightened a little and she started to move just a bit
faster. "Please what?"
"Please, fas-" a slow tug made him lose his place with a groan. "Faster."
"Why?" she asked back. "What do you want?"
"I want… Please, I want-" He bit his lip again, as if debating with the last of
his strength on whether he should give in or not.
"Tell me what you want, and I'll let you have it." She could feel her lips
smiling. He was so close, so close.
"I-I want to... to cum, p-please." He finally let out, his breath racking his
lungs and chest. His hands lay to the sides, clenched in agony, and he leaned
forward, the torture and embarrassment being too much to bear.
With her other hand, she pulled his body back into her as close as she could,
placing it over his heart. "Cum for me," she whispered into his ear. Her
fingers curled just a little tighter around his member and started to stroke
him harder. His breathing became ragged and his body stiffened in anticipation.
And then he started to give off his whimper, the one she had been waiting to
hear all night long.
But to her delight, it wasn't just once, but it was over and over again,
building up to a crescendo, louder and more desperate for release. She doubled
her efforts, and the results were glorious.
One. Two. Three.
Yes.
Four. Five.
Six. Seven.
Yes.
Eight.
A half.
Nine.
Yes, yes, yes.
"Heh heh, good boy."
***** Pillow Talk *****
Only when Tharja dragged her left hand up his chest and to her lips, the cum
leaving a slick trail on his body, did Robin start to regain his senses. It
made him feel dirty, used even, to know that his seed was being smeared across
his body like lewd war paint, proof that Tharja had taken claim to him.
He shuddered when she did it again, this time sliding her hands through the
handkerchief to gather more of his semen and dragging it up and over his
shoulder. Her tongue followed where it could reach, sucking and licking away at
the tracks left behind by her fingers. It felt strange, ticklish even.
But he flinched when she put it on his cheek, turning away on reflex.
Tharja merely chuckled, administering the same attention with her tongue over
the spot before pulling away.
"Open your mouth."
He was sure she could see the thoughts in his head. If he protested now, would
she back away? He had just let Tharja take absolute control of the situation,
and now she was about to make him eat his own-
Tharja's other hand had moved south to his member again. Though he was no
longer hard, he hadn't gone fully flaccid and could still feel that sucking
feeling in his navel, making him groan through his teeth. She moved back to
play with his ear and neck again with her lips.
A part of him wanted to just comply and let her continue leading. But the
humiliation and the knowledge that she was getting off on this made him pause.
"Do it and I can make your fantasy real."
Was… Was she talking about what he masturbated to last night? It wasn't an
ideal one. But to back away now, to have gone so far and still be a virgin…
Another gentle tug from below and he slowly let his lips part. She purred and
stuck her fingers in.
"Suck."
He tried not to think too much about the taste. Instead he focused on the
breasts that were pushing up against him, the strokes on his member, the soft
breath on his ear.
"Swallow," she said, pulling her fingers from his mouth.
He really tried to not think too much about the taste. Or the feeling of it.
With difficulty Robin pushed it down his throat.
Tharja moved out from behind him and chill from the cold air made him tense.
"Lie down on your back." Once he was flat on the ground, she moved in front of
him before getting down and crawling up to his neck. As he did so his eyes did
not leave her, and when she stared back, dragging her tongue and lips down from
his shoulder to his waist and then to his cock, he felt as if Tharja was
churning a fire within him.
She didn't take him into her mouth at first, instead sliding her tongue around
the area and up his shaft, lapping up whatever she may have missed. He hissed,
taking sharp breaths as that pulling feeling returned to his gut. Her fingers
gently raked across his chest and down his thighs, making him grow back in
size.
Heat and wetness engulfed him and he moaned. Her tongue was deft, licking away
at contours that he didn't even know existed. And when she started to lower
herself before dragging back up again, he weakly cried and shivered under her.
But before things became unbearable, she pulled off of him and he found himself
pining for her touch. She stood up and made eye contact with him again and he
was sure that she knew exactly how badly he wanted more.
And then she started to undress. First was the cape, which fluttered to the
ground. Then the outer garments that covered her breasts were next, which
shielded them from prying eyes. He could see the globes from below, the nipples
jutting out from beneath the dark mesh.
Then very slowly she undid the sash at her waist, revealing her nude form
beneath that silky material. Eyes still on his, she walked over to his bed and
lied down, putting her head on his pillow. Raising a hand, she curled the index
finger towards herself, beckoning to come over. "Undress me."
She did not have to repeat the order. Standing up, he rushed over to her and
climbed onto the bed, finally knowing that he would get to actually do
something. Taking a quick study of the material, he saw that it actually was
two pieces of cloth, like a form-fitting sweater and pants. His fingers slid
underneath the material and began to pull upwards, but she quickly grasped his
wrist, making him pause.
"Slowly." There was that smile again. "Feel me as you do so." He felt himself
nod a little, his finger beginning to slide the cloth upwards, his knuckles
dragging against her supple skin. When he reached her breasts, he paused a
moment, heat rushing to his cheeks, before pushing it past and off her arms.
So… these were breasts.
Tentatively he reached out to them, feeling their shape and form. They felt
firm in his hand, yet when he pressed in they softly gave way to his touch. His
fingers traced the contours, feeling every corner of them for what felt like
hours.
Tharja said nothing, merely smiling at him when he finally stopped and reached
for the cloth at her waist. He could see a dark stain forming in the middle of
it and that burning sensation returned to his face. Slowly he dragged it off of
her, revealing creamy thighs and her folds in between them. Her legs spread and
he realized he was staring, averting his gaze a little to the side.
"You've been a good boy," she said, voice lower and husky. She led him by the
hand up to her body again before grasping his aching member with the other.
With a deft movement, she placed the tip at the entrance and pushed against it,
making Robin moan as she enveloped his head.
"No more rules, Robin." The most wicked grin he had ever seen from her spread
across her lips. "Don't be shy and no need to be gentle." One hand went to the
back of his head, pulling him towards her breasts, while the other went to his
hip and pulled him deeper into her.
"I've been wet since last night."
With a hiss, he began to move his body.
===============================================================================
Tharja found herself waking up at the crack of dawn, not from habit, but from
realization. She had been unaware of it at first, but as she turned to her
side, beginning to idly stroke Robin's blond hair as he slept as calmly as she
had ever seen him do so, it became apparent. It was the sense of feeling
normal, like everything around the two of them was going as expected.
And that was when she realized that whatever dark aura had been hanging around
Robin seemed to have been mollified. Granted, she knew that sexual frustration
had been among one of its causes, but that would did not explain why it still
hung around within Robin. Surely it would swirl around and rise to the surface
once more.
But for now it was at peace. A strange peace, one that she would have preferred
to end, but didn't mind lasting a little longer, not if it meant she could be
this close to him. Maybe she could even find herself wanting it in the future.
Tharja could make this work. She would have to be patient with Robin, but she
could make it work in the end and he would understand her desire for him, both
fleshly and beyond. And she would have to be careful about it. No one could
find out about the two of them, not until later.
As softly as she could, she rose and began to dress herself. She wasn't leaving
him to the proverbial empty bed, not in the slightest. She just needed a little
bit of time straighten her cards and play them right.
Especially if she brought up the mark on his hand. But there was no need to
rush. All in due course. But first she needed to clean that handkerchief.
===============================================================================
When Robin woke up, he found himself anxiously looking to his right, towards
the wall that his bed was against, before becoming crestfallen when Tharja
wasn't there. He thought she would have at least stayed with him, considering
how they still had much to discuss. Perhaps she had left a note?
Still, he sighed. This wasn't exactly how he envisioned himself on the morning
after his first sexual experience. He had imagined that after an amazing night
for him and his partner, they would cuddle, kiss, talk, and maybe even go
another round.
But he felt like he had been used, taken advantage, and somewhat discarded. It
was an emptying feeling, like he had been tarnished. Just a plaything for the
night and then left for the next thrill.
"Stop worrying. I'm over here."
Tharja's voice made him snap his body towards her, reflexively bunching the
sheets next to him. As surprised as he was, he felt slight relief washing over
him to see her sitting on his chair. His clothes were neatly folded and on the
side.
"What time is it?" he carefully asked.
"It's midmorning. Slept well, I assume?"
"… I think so." Should he ask now, to try and sort out his situation just a
little bit? "How… how did I do?"
"Inexperienced, but it was good enough. That will come in time. Now let's get
you dressed." She said it casually, so different from last night's tone. Was it
all over now?
Still, he was naked under the sheets and was embarrassed to step out. He never
imagined that being naked in front of a woman would be so nerve wracking.
Perhaps it was because Tharja was fully dressed while he was not. "Umm…"
"I've seen you naked twice, Robin, and you have a cute butt. No point in hiding
from me now." She pointed with her finger to the ground in front of her. "Stand
here."
"Al…Alright." With a glow on his cheeks he slowly peeled the sheets away and
stepped towards the indicated spot. He reached for the clothes, but then Tharja
gently held his wrists.
"No." She picked up his smallclothes and knelt by his feet. "I like to end
things in this way, so to speak. Lift your feet."
And she slowly began to dress him, beginning from his small clothes, then his
shirt, followed by pants and finally his purple coat. It was different from
last night. Robin was aware that it was still just as sensual, but without her
lingering touches and feels and the ear biting. Granted, he was still
struggling with his morning wood that he was sure Tharja saw, but the act was
still welcome, especially considering his previous worries.
"All done."
She moved back to his armchair and sat down, pulling her legs together and
tapping her thighs. She placed herself a little bit towards the front of the
seat, leaning to reach the back of the chair with her shoulders. "Sit here." He
warily moved himself over, taking a glance into her eyes before turning around
and placing himself in her lap, acutely aware that his feet were dangling a
good bit off of the ground. Immediately her hands circled around his chest and
waist, pulling him closer to her and he felt her breathe in deep.
Okay, so maybe being seated in her lap was kind of sexy.
"How was it?" she said into his ear.
He exhaled, recounting his thoughts. "When I was waiting for you to get to my
room, I was afraid you changed your mind."
"A part of the game." He could feel the vibrations against his back as she
spoke. "Proper build up and anticipation prior to sex affects how enjoyable it
is." He felt her kiss his hair. "After that, it was just guiding you through
the steps."
"And making me taste my own cum was one of them?"
"It's part of the control, Robin. You could have always refused, even from the
start."
That was technically true. "You try thinking straight when you're horny."
"Heh, did you forget what I said before the real fun started?"
He gave a sigh. "Sorry I asked." Her arms were a lot better at behaving now
compared to last night, seemingly content with just where they were. "What
happened to the handkerchief?"
"Cleaned and tucked away." His cheeks blushed, recalling where she liked to put
it. But he felt less mortified over the fact now than before.
"Was I… you know…" he cautiously said, a little worried about his question,
"big enough?"
"Heh heh, big enough to matter."
He still felt a little embarrassed, but he felt better with her answer. "Why
me?" he asked after a short pause.
"I don't know," she gently answered, "but I like you." He already knew that
answer from when they were at the dinner table, but he still felt himself
stiffen a little. "You still haven't answered my question."
"It was… not what I expected," he decided to say. "I imagined my first time to
be more… cuddly, I guess. And a little less one-sided."
"Like now?" she dug her nose towards his neck, arms tightening a tiny bit.
"But this is still one-sided though," he turned his head to face her. "I mean,
you were behind my back half the night, and you're still behind my back now."
"Hmm…" she pondered for a quick moment before an expectant smile came to her
lips. "Get off and turn around." Her arms slid away from him and he moved off
of her, turning his body to face hers. Keeping her legs together, she reclined
even further, pushing herself out of the chair a little bit. Grasping his hand,
she gently tugged him over. "Climb on."
Placing his knees at the side of her legs, he became aware that he was
practically straddling her and his cheeks burned. He tried to keep himself at a
respectable distance, but Tharja's hands slid down to his hips and pushed him
above her, giving them a soft squeeze for good measure.
For once, he found himself looking down on another woman. He could pretend he
was taller, even if it was just some fancy body positioning. But even when they
were having sex the highest he came up to was her breasts.
Even though it was with someone he didn't expect, he had to admit that this…
This was pretty damn sexy.
"Better?"
"Yes… I suppose." He found that his hands had naturally gone to her shoulders.
"So… where does this put us now?"
"Depends on what you want from it. Love, sex, it's all fair game here."
Love would be nice. But Tharja? In the end, sex was sex… but love? With her?
What would that even look like? "Well, I've never really considered love
between us as something that could really happen… but after last night, I would
say that things… well, I'm not sure where I want to go with this now."
Her smile grew on her lips, and he became aware of how close they were.
"We can approach the love topic later. For now, I can be there to help
alleviate your…" she licked her lips, "frustration. No more needing to beat off
on your own. Not a bad offer, no?"
That was certainly not a bad offer. "…But is this right though? I mean… I'm… if
the camp got wind of this… you could be-"
"I'll be careful. But thanks for the concern." A hand drifted through his hair
before resting on the back of it.
"Have you ever kissed a girl, Robin?"
"… No."
Her smiling lips were upon his in a heartbeat and he let her pull him down.
***** Eat *****
Thus their relationship started. It was bumpy and kind of strange for Robin.
Tharja was able to embrace her particular attraction while he still felt unsure
about her particular fetishes. But for the most part the two of them had come
to an agreement of sorts. When the other was lustful or needy, they would be
there for the other. And Tharja had yet to do anything particularly extreme,
seemingly content in very minor aspects of controlling him, nothing like how
the first time went. Besides, the cuddling part was fun, and so he accepted it
for now.
As it didn't seem to negatively affect their own performance within the
Shepherds, they continued their mostly sexual relation for roughly two years.
Robin had even given the idea of a real relationship some thought, wondering
what it would look like for the two of them.
===============================================================================
On most given days, Robin found it easy to take care of tasks at hand. Whether
it was planning movements, studying terrain effects in previous historical
battles, or his own training, normally it was something he could effectively
occupy himself with.
"Are you hungry, Robin?"
Normally.
"For the sake of gods know how many times you've asked, Tharja, yes. I am very
hungry." Robin brought his palm to his face, giving an exasperated sigh.
His gaze turned to the sorceress who was lying down on his bed "The first thing
I see is a note from you on my door telling me to abstain from eating. And not
long after I awake you come into my room and take residence upon my bed, asking
me the same stupid question you've been asking me all day."
She simply gazed at him, that Cheshire smile never leaving her face. She had
been rolling around in his covers again, something that seemed to please the
sorceress and was mostly harmless, but was currently annoying to deal with
"I mean, don't you have anything better to do?"
"And watching over the health of my lover is a bad thing?"
"If you were worried about my health, you'd get me a sandwich," he muttered,
trying to ignore his stomach growling again as he turned the page of the book
in front of him.
"And before you ask, the last time I ate was at dinner yesterday. So aside from
the water you've been kind enough to fetch every now and then, I have had
nothing to eat for the last twenty-three some hours."
"Good." It was the usual playful response from her, easily ignoring his grumpy
jab at her.
Usually Tharja was somewhat easy to deal with. Drop his pants when she was in
the mood, listen to her, have sex, and then cuddle. It was a fairly simple
formula most of the time, and it was even simpler if he approached her. This
time though, she was out of control.
But neither was he always this grumpy. He usually didn't mind Tharja's presence
because it had become like a second shadow that was docile out in public and
only came out at night to have fun. No, he had gotten used to her antics not
long after their first time together.
It was mostly the fact that a week ago he found out that he was the son of
Validar, King of Plegia, enemy of both Robin and Chrom in less than ten seconds
despite claiming to come in peace. The fact shocked him, and seeing that
hierophant was all the more troubling. To think that he was the prince of a
king so vile, a king that had almost killed Emmeryn that night, and with a
doppelganger to boot! It made his head hurt at the mere thought of it.
And then there was the whole Lucina debacle, Chrom and Sumia's daughter from
the supposed future. The war that they fought, that they will fight, all of it
was part of a bigger battle to stop a great evil and he was supposed to play a
critical part in leading. It was a headache on another level when he first
heard of the madness.
And he was hungry. Very hungry. That was always a problem for any soldier.
Turning back to the flux tome he was trying to work through, he almost missed
Tharja getting up from his bed and moving towards the door.
"I'll be back in half an hour, Robin. Don't leave the room, prepare an empty
table, and don't eat anything."
Before he could even ask her what she was going to do, the heavy thud of the
door told him that the sorceress was gone.
===============================================================================
Tharja didn't need the full half-hour to do what she needed to do, but she
reasoned that it wouldn't hurt to keep Robin waiting just a little longer. She
prepared much of the ingredients beforehand. All she needed was to check her
trapping hexes in the local river and prepare them. Then she just needed to
borrow the cook's fire and the dish was complete.
Still piping hot from the oven, she placed some final preparations before
making her way back to Robin's room. Pushing aside the door she entered and
placed the dish down, taking out the second plate she had beneath it and a fork
and knife.
The boy had not turned his head away from the food she brought since she came
in. "Are you hungry, Robin?" she crowed.
"Is… Is that-"
She began to cut into the food. "Liver and eel pie. Your favorite." With
artisan expertise she gingerly removed a slice and placed it on the spare
plate. Turning it so that he could see all the hot and juicy fillings inside,
she placed the fork and knife down, sauntering over to Robin and turning him to
face her with a finger. "Now then I'll be back in a bit. I just need to do some
final preparations and we can enjoy this together after it cools down. For now
though," she leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Don't touch anything."
"But- you-" he sputtered, "That's not fair! You starve me for a whole day, put
food in front of me and now you say I can't eat it yet?"
"Well," she moved back to entrance, "I suppose you could grab a little bit
first. It wouldn't change the end result too much. But please, do try to
control yourself."
Pushing open the door, she exited and headed towards the bathhouse. She
suspected that she may want to wash quickly though, because with the way Robin
was staring at the slice, he wouldn't last ten minutes.
But even if he did give in, it's not like it would really change anything
anyway. A nice soak was always welcome. Besides, that icky aura was forming
again and that meant he was pliable tonight. It was time for the real fun to
begin.
===============================================================================
Pacing from side to side in front of his bed, Robin impatiently stared at the
pie. Its savory aroma wafted through the air, driving him insane and making his
stomach growl in hunger and anticipation. He was sure he swallowed more spit
than he thought was possible in the last five minutes.
He was the master tactician! And here he was, thwarted by a mere pastry (his
favorite, but still!) and his baser instincts. There had to be some way to get
to this damned slice of pie!
Walking closer to the table, he examined what was on it. There was the fork and
knife, the spare plate with the slice on top of it, and the rest of the pie
itself.
There were a little bit of crumbs from the crust on the table.
Surely Tharja wouldn't miss some specks of cooked dough missing from the edge
of the crust, right? It wasn't going to be any real sustenance, but the hunger
in his mind screamed at him. Warnings be damned. He needed to eat.
Walking up to the table, he memorized the exact way the fork was placed before
grasping it. Turning to the door, he softly ran it along the edge of the pie,
flaking off bits of it into his hand and brought the small bits into his mouth.
Barely appeasing. He needed more. He wanted more!
…Would Tharja notice a little bit of the filling missing from the slice?
Swallowing the pooling saliva in his mouth, he moved the fork just up to the
pie, hesitating a moment before deciding to take the plunge.
Suddenly his right hand whipped back, causing Robin to stumble backward and
fall onto his rear. The fork fell to the ground with a clatter and he winced.
That was not supposed to happen. But then his other arm followed, both being
held behind his back and he suddenly paled when he felt a tight coiling feeling
go around his wrists.
Rope. Tharja booby-trapped the food.
He tried to struggle free, twisting and turning his arms, but they only seemed
to tighten their hold just a little more each time. He panicked and tried to
stand up, but without the use of his arms, balance was difficult and even then
the rope was tethered to a point beneath his bed, keeping him from rising to
his feet.
The door opened, and to his mixed horror Tharja stared down at him with the
eyes of a hungry predator.
"Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" she quipped, a thin smile creasing
across her face.
"You said I could grab a little bit!" he barked, "What happened to no change in
end result?"
"Oh, the end result is that one way or another tonight, I will dominate you.
You taking a bite just means we get to start with a more… fun approach." She
strode over to the table, picking up the fork from the ground. With a bit of
flare she drew out that red handkerchief from her clothes and deftly wiped the
dust from it, kicking his desk chair in front of him. She then grabbed the
plate and took a seat on it as Robin carefully watched her, unsure if it was
out of apprehension or hunger.
Cutting off a part of the tip with the fork, Tharja bit into it, rolling it
around in her mouth before swallowing. "Perfect." She looked at him and he knew
what she was going to ask.
"How hungry are you, Robin?" the slow words tumbled from her lips as she kicked
off her heels to the side.
"… Very."
"Good." She cut off another piece of the pie and put it into her mouth. "I
think you'll like this."
"Look, are you just going to taunt me or-"
One of her feet brushed its way up his chest on his coat, dragging a trail and
ending at his chin, pointing it to face her. He realized that she was not
wearing her usual mesh stockings or top. "Oh, I'll feed you, alright. You just
have to say the right words."
"…Please?" he hopefully said.
"That's a start," the foot made its way down, gently massaging where his heart
was. "How would you address me, who obviously has the power in here?"
He bit his lip, afraid to say anything.
"I know you're afraid here, Robin, but I also know that if you would just let
me be in control, if you just give yourself over, I think you'll like it a
lot."
"…Ma'am?"
"Hm…" she trailed her foot lower again, settling on his stomach, "almost.
You've heard me say the term before. I'm sure if you think hard, you'll
remember it."
The term suddenly became clear, his mind trailing back to the very first time
they were together, when she was fondling him beneath the table. "M… Mistress."
"You will only use that term when it is just you and me," she ordered. "Now put
it all together and ask me what you would like. And please, call me Mistress
Tharja."
He still hated that smug smile that always seemed to be on her lips, but he
knew that if he gave in, he could have what he wanted. "M-May I please eat,
Mistress Tharja?"
She chuckled a little, and he felt the weight behind his arms slacken. They
were still tied together, but no longer tethered to the bed.
"Um, Th-… Mistress Tharja, I can't eat if my hands are behind my back…" he
pleaded.
"Did you forget, Robin?" She set the plate down on the table, cutting a chunk
of the slice off. "I said I was going to feed you." Grabbing the piece she
placed it at the palm of her hand and with the other beckoned him to come
closer. "I fully intend to uphold my part of the bargain."
The message was very clear. He stared at her for a moment, a frown forming on
his lips. He would have to play her game to quell the emptiness in his stomach.
Struggling to get onto his knees, he eventually made his way over to her
extended palm, opening his mouth and accepting the morsel.
Absolutely delicious, if not somewhat demeaning. Her other hand ruffled through
his hair. "Good boy."
Retracting her hands, she prepared another piece of pie, this time grasping it
with her thumb and index finger. "Open your mouth," Tharja cooed. He tilted his
head back a little and his lips parted. In a slow movement, she placed the food
into his mouth, her finger running over his tongue. "Close, but don't chew."
She did not remove her hand as they were engulfed by him, but her finger
continued to swirl around his mouth. "When I stick my finger out to you, you
will suck on it. Do you understand, Robin?" sliding her finger out, she let him
chew and swallow before he responded.
"Is… Is all of this really necessary?" he cautiously asked. "I mean, I… I'm not
exactly liking this."
"If I wanted to really hurt you, Robin, you would know it," Tharja calmly
replied, breaking the remaining piece in half. "If you would simply submit to
me, let me do the thinking and leading, then all you need to do is just live
the experience and enjoy. I'm sure you'll warm up to it. I take good care of
those I like, and you are far from being an exception. I will love upon you
like no other. I will just be happier when you obey."
Leaning forward, she placed the piece on her foot, and lifted it to his lips.
"Eat."
He froze, staring apprehensively.
"I just took a bath, Robin. Everything is clean." She playfully bobbed her foot
a little. "Eat."
He felt somewhat repulsed, but in the end he obediently lapped up the piece.
Damned hunger.
Her smile grew wider and she got up from the chair, taking a seat on the bed.
Setting the plate down on the nightstand, she took another piece and this time
set it on her exposed thigh.
"Eat." Such simple words, and yet it made him quake. Turning around, he put
himself in front of her and leaned in. But before he could take it into his
mouth, she scooted it up further away from him.
"Come closer, Robin. I won't bite. It's not my turn yet."
He was forced to bring his body against her leg and her foot began to brush and
rub against the hardened member he had been trying to ignore, making his body
stiffen. Maybe it was just that it was a sensation that he was unfamiliar with,
but he was uncomfortably aroused during their little game. He hoped it was
because he knew where this was ultimately leading up to and he was just
reacting accordingly.
When the food was cleaned away from her skin, she tapped her lap, a telltale
sign that meant she wanted him to climb up and straddle himself there. This
time, instead of apprehension, he felt himself sigh in relief. This was
Tharja's sign that meant she wanted to cuddle, something that he welcomed far
more easily. With a bit of Tharja's help, he was able to rise to his feet and
he climbed on, his knees on her sides.
Immediately her hands found his hips, kneading the flesh as she forcefully
claimed his mouth. He let his lips part and Tharja needed no coercing, eagerly
slipping her tongue in. She brushed against the roof of his mouth and he
shuddered. She knew he liked it there. Not to be outdone, he defiantly pushed
into her mouth as well and she immediately pulled away, a grin growing on her
lips when he gave a frustrated groan.
"Oh, don't be a grump, Robin. I appreciate the effort, but don't forget who's
in charge for now. Am I understood?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mistress Tharja."
"Good." Taking another piece of the pie, she carefully wedged it right in
between the top her breasts, the tip of the crust barely jutting out. "Eat,"
she said, thrusting her chest out a tiny bit. His cheeks burned. He had seen
her breasts before. Fondled them, suckled and licked them. But eating from
between them?
Still, he obeyed. Trying to use his teeth, he quickly learned that it only
caused the crust to break away. Sticking out his tongue, he thrust it in
between her cleavage, doing his best to get under the piece and scoop it into
his mouth. Tharja's hands found their home in his hair and rear, giving a low,
content moan. When he finally succeeded and pulled away, she brushed away a
crumb and licked the finger.
"Off for a moment, Robin, but stay on the bed."
He moved away and watched as Tharja shifted her head onto his pillow and undid
the lower cloths, revealing her shaved sex to him. He recalled that though it
seemed to have been trimmed on a regular basis, he had never seen it hairless
before. Reaching for the final piece of the pie, she placed it right over the
mound of her folds.
"Eat."
Tharja had always been a little strange when it came to oral sex. She never let
him perform it, and while she had fellated him before, it was always after he
had come, never to actually get him off. When he asked, she said that it was
simply not time for it yet. A part of him was eager to try, his curiosity
getting the better of him since she was offering the opportunity, but another
thought gave him pause. Had she been saving the moment until now?
Had she been… training him? Conditioning him to accept her commands?
Still, under her watchful gaze, he found himself unable to resist his own
curiosity. Shifting so that he was more towards the foot of the bed, he lowered
himself down and scooped up the piece of food, his lips brushing against hers
and he watched as a shiver coursed through her. Taking a moment to chew and
swallow his food, her hands found their way into his hair and pulled him
inward.
"Keep eating."
Tentatively, he pushed his tongue out, running up and down her slit. Tharja let
out a satisfied groan and gripped his hair as Robin let himself be a little
bolder, pushing aside the flesh and driving his tongue deeper. He found himself
floundering about a little, not sure where exactly to brush against, but
refused to let his own intrigue be stopped by the unfamiliar experience.
"Ooh!" she thrust forward a little when he hit a particular spot inside her and
he tried to find it again, closing his eyes to try and retrace his steps.
Her breath quickened. "Mmm, yesssss, that's a good boy, Robin…" she gripped
tighter as he continued to brush against that point. "You look so cute, trying
so hard like that."
With a final hiss, her back arched a little and she pulled him in harder,
almost thrusting into his face. He could feel the walls of her sex squeezing
around him and a small bit of liquid spilled forth, a faint sweetness running
against his lips and tongue.
"Oh, yes… I should have done this sooner," she breathlessly said. "A little low
on technique, but that can be improved upon later." Sitting up, she pulled him
up by his armpits and kissed him again, her tongue licking around his lips and
a bit of his cheek before lying back down and dragging him with her.
"I think you deserve a reward." She finally said when she pulled away, leaving
him breathless and panting for air. A quick turn and he found himself beneath
her form. "Close your eyes."
He obediently did and he heard her fumble around with some cloth.
"Lift your head up."
Silently he obliged and he felt her threading an inch-wide piece of leather
around his neck, tightening just a little bit against him. His eyes shot open.
"Tharja, what is this?" Damn the rope around his arms! He couldn't see or feel
the material around him, and it was starting to worry him.
"It's an accessory. A leather collar, to be exact. And it's Mistress Tharja."
"Why would you put this on me?" Panicpanicpanicpa-
"Why, it's to show everyone that you belong to me." She chuckled.
"Dogs wear collars, not people! Take it off!"
"Oh, but I don't mean to make you like an animal. At least not now." A single
finger trailed down his neck, tracing the place where the collar met his skin.
"It's to show that out of everyone I could have at this camp, I favor you. And
like I said, I'll take good care of you."
She slinked down to his waist, dragging fingers down his coat before ending at
his pants and pulling down, his hard cock springing forward. "Perhaps I should
show you exactly what this privilege entails."
Before he could speak, her mouth engulfed his head, her tongue licking around
the tip. A quick yelp escaped his lips and suddenly speaking was difficult.
"Th-Tharja… people will… they'll see the collar though," he managed to whimper
to her.
"That's the point. I want them to know," she pulled off to say, licking from
the base of his shaft to the top and taking him in again.
"B-But… I don't…" he tried to voice his opinion, but as her head began to
slowly move up and down, he could only hiss and moan. It was like his fantasy
that night so long ago, except now he was unsure if this was the best time for
it to occur. Gods, that this would feel so good at an inopportune time.
He felt the tip of his head turn down a little, pushing even further into her
mouth until her lips met the skin on his waist and groaned, the vibrations
eliciting another low cry from him. Her hands trailed to his hips, squeezing
them again as he pushed forward, his mind screaming for more.
"Tharja…!" he wanted to say something, to try and change her mind about the
collar, but every attempt was cut off with another lick, another thrust,
another groan. It wasn't long before he felt that familiar feeling building at
the tip.
But she seemed to know that he was close and teased him, pulling away and only
licking the flesh half-heartedly.
"If you wear the collar, I'll let you cum."
He grit his teeth, not wanting to give in but also doing his best to weigh the
consequences of saying yes. Maybe he could find a way to make it less
noticeable? Wear it lower? What about elsewhere?
"You know, if you play around with the collar of your coat, you could probably
do a decent job of making it less noticeable," she idly said, teasing his
member again.
His addled mind gave in. "Okay! Just… please…"
"Please what?"
"Please let me cum… M-Mistress Tharja," he struggled to add the last bit when
she looked at him expectantly, but she smiled and put her mouth over his tip,
moving up and down again.
He didn't last much longer. With a low groan, he came in her mouth and she
pulled up to the tip, stroking him with her hand until the spasm ended, his
chest rising with each heavy breath. She crawled up to him and gently held
cheeks while before kissing him.
A familiar taste passed between her lips to his and he burned in embarrassment,
the white liquid pooling in his mouth. She pulled way and the order was simple.
"Swallow."
He did, and she moved in to kiss him again. One of her hands moved down to his
member and stroked it, letting him know that the night was not over.
===============================================================================
Then they found Noire, and things turned pretty bad.
***** A Mistake *****
They hadn't done anything much with each other since that day. They didn't
exactly have time for it after all, since he needed to start planning for Valm.
Tharja also said he needed to get used to the feeling of the collar on him and
simply obeying her small commands like that weird finger licking thing. He
still didn't know how she got off on it, but it was something she had him do
often. He worried over where they had been, but each time she assured him that
it was just washed. And even though he could smell the orchid soap she liked to
use each time she made him do it, it still concerned him a little.
Taking his free hand, he shifted the choker a little lower, trying to push his
coat's front over it. It felt weird around his neck. It was a bit sweaty to
have on and he always felt like he was on the verge of being choked should
someone errantly grab him. It didn't help that Tharja liked to gently tug at it
when they were alone, even if it was mostly for hugs and cuddles and kisses.
And while that was always fun, it frustrated him that it was all things had
amounted to recently.
Turning his mind away from his own nitpicking, he surveyed the dying battle
they were in. Slavers had somehow fallen upon someone and Chrom naturally saw
it fit to intervene. The start of combat was fierce. However, Tharja, who was
at his side, suddenly snapped her attention to the east and, after a brief
pause, wandered away from him. He was forced to send another group with her,
but judging from the streaks of black light, she had drawn out her strongest
tomes of dark magic and she seemed to fight with even more fervor than usual.
After that, the battle was almost a joke. Enemies stopped coming from the east
and instead pegasus knights were sent over to reinforce the position. But the
blasts of darkness never stopped and eventually additional forces were
withheld, the captain of the slavers deciding that it was best to retreat
westward. With much of their faster units destroyed, the other Shepherds were
able to cut off the retreat and they fell upon them on two fronts, easily
eliminating them.
With Frederick drawing his lance from the now dead leader, he turned to Lucina,
who was taking stock of what she needed to replace. "Ysa… ed t Igen rav eyt
olrlae?"
She looked at him like he had the head of a fish. "What?"
"Ht, goirh."
Communing with spells meant that he shared similar qualities with the magic he
was casting. Lightning was his preferred element, as it was targeted, decisive,
and quick, matching the needs and the way he thought as a tactician. Wind
magic, though fast and easy to use, was impulsive and a little weaker, creating
possible poor decisions. Flame was strong, but at times brought out his anger
and was sometimes difficult to control. And with his unusual affinity towards
magic, this sometimes meant that the emotions came strongly.
The flux tome, though, was very different. Powerful as it was, it was the
harnessing of chaotic order, as its name implied. Thankfully it didn't carry
any strange emotional issues with it, but it instead embodied itself in his
speech. He had to tuck the book away each time he needed to issue an order.
Grabbing the tome out of the air and closing it, he asked his question to
Lucina again.
"In your future, do you remember me as being any taller?"
"Oh… hm." She closed her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't
think you do, but I cannot fully recall."
He hung his head a little. Dammit.
A sudden voice that he didn't recognize shot out. "Lucina?"
The princess turned around and he could hear her joy. "Noire? Is that really
you?"
Looking in the direction she turned to, he spotted a pale archer embracing
Lucina in a tight hug, some tears of joy and relief rolling down her cheeks.
Her hair was a shiny blonde and her eyes were a dark black and she seemed
almost ready to collapse.
Tharja walked back to his side and looked at her from just a bit behind him, a
single hand gently resting on his shoulder. She smiled, but it seemed
different. Prideful, victorious, even. She leaned in and whispered into his
ear, her thumb tracing the leather band.
"Come to my tent tonight."
He nodded almost out of habit, still looking at the young woman they brought
back. Looking up at Tharja, he could feel his heart race as he matched
similarities. Their faces had similar, not-so-prominent cheekbones. This Noire
person was also just a bit shorter than Tharja, and he realized that they
seemed to have the same curves as the other.
He felt his face scrunch in scrutiny. This had to be Tharja's daughter. The
similarities were too great to be mere coincidence. Her hair color, however,
made him sweat.
===============================================================================
It was over dinner that he finally realized just how damaged Noire was. She was
soft spoken, seemed to lack an appetite despite having fought in combat earlier
and was almost forcing herself to eat, and she seemed to have a tendency to
hide behind Lucina as a shield. It was as if she was frightened of something,
trying to veil something away from them.
But what was probably bothering her the most was that she seemed to eye him a
lot. He would meet her gaze every now and then, causing her to look away. Was
she afraid of him? It didn't seem that she was unhappy that he was staring at
her.
Was it because Tharja wasn't there?
And then Sully asked the one-ton question.
"So who are your parents, kiddo? Ten gold it's Libra."
Said priest was about to make a comment, but he was rudely cut off.
"INSOLENCE!"
The outburst killed all other noise in the mess tent. Her eyes were suddenly
sharpened, her teeth bared, and she stood up to stare down at the rider.
"THAT MY HERITAGE WOULD BE DOUBTED! I AM-"
Lucina's hand instantly shot up to cover Noire's mouth after the princess
recovered from the sudden boom. The girl seemed to instantly to calm down,
reverting to her demure self and sitting down. She attempted to shrink away
from the table and refused to make eye contact with anyone. Her cheeks flared,
mortified at her actions.
"It would be best to leave that question alone for now. With us children being
here in the past, we have already altered the timeline much," Lucina said to
the group. "I'm sorry, but we wish to disturb it as little as possible for the
time being, and so we shall hold onto such information for now."
Any appetite Robin had was gone. He needed to speak with Noire directly. What
he was seeing did not make him happy, and he needed to know more.
===============================================================================
Tharja would be mad that he didn't go straight to her tent. She would probably
bind his arms or make him do something demeaning. But he pushed aside those
thoughts as he rapped on the tent frame in front of him.
It was well into the late evening. Most of the Shepherds had settled down to
rest, heading off to their own tents. Still, a dim light came from the tent
that Lucina and Noire shared, which meant that they were still awake, most
likely catching up on what had happened prior to their meeting today. As the
voices inside the tent died down, a quick set of steps pulled up and the flap
opened.
"Robin? Is something amiss?" Lucina said.
"I wish to speak with Noire," he firmly said. "Privately, if I may."
Lucina looked towards Noire, and the archer carefully nodded. Stepping back,
she allowed Robin to enter and she exited the tent. He kept his gaze locked on
the girl, who shifted uncomfortably on her bedroll. Noire looked like she was
about to fall into pieces. "Earlier at dinner, you had a particular outburst."
Robin finally tore his gaze away from her. Pacing a bit, he continued. "It was
certainly not your normal voice, and I don't think was staged. You're meek, and
yet you seemed to yell at Sully for her transgression before Lucina was able to
stop you."
He locked eyes with the seemingly frail woman and she shrunk a bit. "Why?"
Noire wrung her hands in worry before eking the words out of her lips. "U-Um…
I… well, it's... It's kind of embarrassing to talk about."
Robin took a deep breath before moving onto the subject he really wished to
talk about. "Your mother's Tharja, isn't it?"
That seemed to perk the girl up a bit. She smiled at him, relieved, and spoke,
"How did you know?"
"You have a similar build," he continued, "you have her eyes, her cheekbones,
and she seemed excited to have found you. She would not have been like that
otherwise. Now the question, though, is why did that outburst occur?"
"It's a… a side effect."
"Side effect?"
"Mother… she took away a pendant that I had. She said that it was something she
must have crafted for my younger self."
"Hexed, I'm guessing?"
"Y-Yes, it was hexed. Whenever I touched it, it would make me braver."
"Why did she do that?"
"I was always a little weaker than the rest of the children. And, well, when
Grima came around, she knew we couldn't afford to be weak. And so after some...
trial and error, she designed the charm for me."
Trial and error? "… You seem a little scared of Tharja. Why?"
"All of us were a bit afraid of her," Noire answered. "She was usually foul-
tempered, and when she was in a very bad mood she tended to hex the children."
"Hex children? She hexes on them? In addition to testing spells and hexes on
you?" Did she receive the one Tharja picked on the most? The girl couldn't just
run away from the source when it was in her own home, after all. "Did she hex
you often, Noire?" Did Tharja hate the girl? But then why did she give her the
pendant in the first place? Was it an obligation, a duty to their child? Did
she bring up something she didn't like or want, some kind of painful memory?
"W-Well... um..." her demeanor shrunk again, and he cursed himself for asking
the questions too quickly.
Did he hate the girl? Was… Was she an accident? Something that got forced them
to go beyond just the game they were playing?
He had to know.
"Noire... where was I in all this?"
"W-What do you mean?" she carefully asked.
He took a deep breath. "I'm sleeping with Tharja," he admitted. "She's always
had a thing for me and, well... I suppose I took the bait. Where was I when you
were being raised?" Did he just allow this to happen to her?
"You were around for a while and for the most part you were able to dissuade
mother. But, as... as time progressed, you became more and more unhappy. You
got into arguments with mother sometimes. She wanted... wanted you to be home
more often, but you had to lead the troops," she struggled to say. "And then
one day you disappeared. Things... Things became very bad for us after that."
He always knew that this was a mistake. His mind had screamed it from the first
time and his future self paid the price for it.
But what if he was wrong? The doubt crawled in his head and the information
from Noire was vague, like she was still trying to hide something, but his gut
seemed to lead him in this direction. Something was not right between the two.
Robin sighed, looking at the tent exit. He needed to speak with Tharja. Over
what, he didn't know for sure, but he needed to. He glanced over at his
daughter one last time for the night. "Thank you, Noire. This... This was
probably not easy to talk about." Looking up at his daughter from the future,
she seemed fearful of what would happen in close future.
It would be wise to follow up with her again. "... I would like to talk to you
later, Noire. No doubt there will be questions for both of us in the near
future. But for now, I'll leave the rest of the night to you." She opened her
mouth, as if to stop him, but settled with a nod of her head and a simple
goodbye.
Undoing the flap, he walked outside, taking a deep breath. As much as their
talk answered some questions, it raised an even bigger one, one that he found
himself hesitant to address. Should he end the relationship with Tharja? If she
was willing to hex her own daughter in the future, what would she do next? Did
she have no moral boundaries? To use Noire as a guinea pig of sorts, would she
do that again if he stayed on course with her?
"Is it safe to assume you have deduced her parentage, Sir Robin?"
Turning his head towards the sound of the voice, he saw Lucina staring down at
him.
"Please, you're making me sound old. And yes, I already knew who her father
was."
"What will..." the princess paused, collecting her thoughts before speaking.
"What will you do with the information that you currently have?"
"... I don't really know. According to Noire, my future self wasn't happy with
where I was. I just know I have to speak with Tharja."
"Will you end your relation with her then?"
"...Maybe."
"... I see." Walking to the tent flap, she moved it aside and prepared to
enter. "Deliberate slowly and carefully, Robin. Though it is true that you
experienced unhappiness towards the end of your future self, that does not mean
you did not find happiness in at least some of the things, or at all."
With that last comment, the two spoke no more, leaving Robin in the cool
evening air, lost to his own thoughts and fears.
===============================================================================
Lying on her bed, she had been staring up at the tent canvas, waiting for his
footsteps and presence to draw closer. This was skewed when she noticed that
the dark feeling in Robin had grown and thought that it was him coming over,
but as more time passed she realized this was not the case. But this meant he
was more likely to indulge freely with her, and so she patiently waited.
When the flap finally opened, she rose from her bed, pushing out her chest
before turning to him. She had reduced herself to wearing nothing, knowing that
it always seemed to make him less antsy when she was about to play with him.
"You're late," Tharja said. But taking a good look at Robin instantly told her
that something was wrong. The way he carried himself was not one of his usual
defiance. Though she would have her way with him, he would often argue and try
to maintain degrees of control.
The way he looked now was scared, solemn.
"I was speaking with… with our daughter."
"Oh, so you were able to deduce it as well?"
He looked up at her, ignoring her breasts and staring into her eyes. Very
slowly, he sighed and reached his hands around his neck, undoing the collar she
gave him and holding it in front of him. She remained silent, however, until he
finally got his tongue to work.
"I... I think we should stop seeing each other."
"...What?"
***** The Naked Truth *****
Thus their relationship ended. Even though there was no exploding of vases or
hexes being thrown about, it was clear to him that it was not a clean end. As
he did his best to calmly explain that she cursed the children, that she had
particularly damaged Noire, and how in the end neither of them really seemed to
be happy with the other, he was forced to see Tharja implode upon herself.
It was ugly. Her lips trembled, her body shook, but she said nothing as he
listed his reasons. He even blamed himself for not being there more often, for
not being able to help raise their child and be as normal as a family they
could possibly be.
In the end, she said only one word, and for the life of him Robin couldn't
explain why it felt so gut-wrenching to hear it. Perhaps it was in the way she
was holding herself, clutching her sheets to her chest, eyes turned down, a
trembling finger pointed towards her tent flap.
"Out."
It lacked her usual coy and edge. It came weakly from her lips, and it stunned
him. Only when he dumbly accepted her order and left the tent did he realize
that the reason why it felt so alien to him was that he had never seen her in a
position where there was such a sudden loss of control.
On his way back to his tent, he did not feel well. He felt that he should have
been happy, should have been glad to be free of his relationship with Tharja.
And based on what Noire had shared with him, it was clearly not in his best
interest to continue it.
But when he lied down in his bed, the lingering scents of her soap just barely
wafting from his cold sheets, he was forced to remind himself that it was for
the better.
There will be someone else. There will be someone that he will fall in love
with and a have wonderful, beautiful relationship.
Yes, third time is the charm.
She was just an 'ex' now, and he should do his best to let it fall into the
past.
===============================================================================
It took him a few days to work up the courage to talk to Noire. The girl was
fragile enough as it was, and relaying the information to her ultimately would
not help his situation at all. What was Robin to tell her? That she would never
be born into this world? That based on what she told him he decided he would
look for a different life partner?
That it was her fault that his love life had become worse for the wear?
And no doubt she already knew. She could see the different interactions between
him and Tharja. She may have been timid, but she wasn't stupid. She knew the
conversation was coming, but she was perhaps just too timid to initiate it with
Robin on her own.
So when he went to her tent and asked if he could enter, she had a terrified
look on her. It gave him the hardest time when he was trying to start the
conversation. He opened his mouth and then closed it more times than he would
like to admit. But eventually, once the first blunt words formed, the rest of
it tumbled out.
"I broke up with Tharja."
He found himself sitting on a chair in the tent. His feet dangled off the
ground a little as he watched the archer's shoulders stiffen.
"I... I had a feeling that was the case," she gently replied. "I haven't seen
you two together since... since you found me."
Noire shrunk a little as she accepted the blame, but that was the last thing
Robin had intended to imply. "That's not the case, Noire. Your mother and I...
we..." he told himself to be firm as he spoke, pausing to catch a breath before
continuing. "Things weren't bad, but they weren't amazing either. It could have
gone one way or the other... but I don't feel that I made a wrong decision. But
I want you to know right now that this was not your fault."
Her head drooped forward. "One of... One of the reasons why I came was to make
sure that nothing happened to you." Her voice was firmer than he was used to,
and it caused him to pull back a little.
"To me?"
"W-Well," she fought against herself once more, "do you remember how I said
things were bad once you disappeared?" He nodded slowly in response and she
continued. "I... I had thought that as long as nothing happened to you, at the
very least the young me wouldn't have to be put through the ringer."
He bit his tongue. The young 'Noire' might not even be the same, or exist for
the matter. No doubt she wondered about it too.
"I want to let you know, Noire, that no matter what happens... I'm glad the
Shepherds found you," he carefully avoided mentioning himself or Tharja. "I've
had to do a lot of thinking. About myself, about others... and about my
future."
"And who knows. Maybe it's better this way," he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe
Tharja will find someone else, someone that is fully happy with her and she is
fully happy with. And then if something happens to me, things won't go south."
"But..." he slowed down a bit,"even if I'm not your other self's father in
here, I want to let you know that I'm willing to be there for you," he tried to
sound brave. He meant every word he said, but it made him scared. There were a
lot of things that could go wrong from here on out. "You can come to me for
anything, and I'll do what I can. I mean it. I might be young, and things can
change, but you can trust and rely on me."
Noire said nothing nothing afterward, and for that he was both relieved and
worried. Robin had said what he wanted, while Noire looked like she needed more
time to sort through her thoughts. No doubt she was concerned about Tharja and
him, as well as wondering where things would end up next. She would have her
own answer in time. In time, he would see if she chose to let him be there for
her.
For now though, he felt a part of the tremendous weight on his shoulders
lighten just a little bit.
===============================================================================
Most of the camp also became mildly aware of the rift between Robin and Tharja
when they were tasked with their mission roughly two weeks the break-up –
retrieving an artifact from an old temple of Naga. It was subtle, but one that
was noticed. The pair that had been so effective recently was dismantled, the
two of them placed at near opposite ends of the force (specifically, he placed
himself with Libra to see if he could try and speak with the monk in regards to
his situation, but the opportunity never arose due to Risen throwing axes at
them). This was also bolstered by the thick silence between the two and how
they seemed to have a knack for avoiding each other.
Sooner or later, everyone was going to know. And they were going to accept it
and move on. Robin was ready for it. He was ready for the questions, the
stares, the disapproval or quiet support he would get. He didn't care. He
needed to let people know, when the time was right, that he wasn't alright. But
not everyone had to know immediately. Just enough. Maybe if they asked, but he
wouldn't openly share it. With Valm looming into the picture, there just wasn't
the time or energy to do so.
What he was not ready for was when someone with a clearly feminine voice at the
end of the battle suddenly screamed and he nearly dropped his flux tome.
"Daddy!"
Turning towards the outburst, he saw a woman brusquely pushing aside Libra
before dashing at him with hands outstretched.
"Gods, Daddy, it's really you!"
"Huh? Hey, wait- what are you-"
"Ahaha, I'm so glad I found you! There was this mysterious fog and-"
"Stop spinning so much! And put me down!"
"But you're okay! I was so worried and-"
"Put me down right now and get your damned chest balloons off my face!"
===============================================================================
Going by looks alone, it was easier to deny and say that this woman, who called
herself Morgan, was not Robin's daughter. It was quite simple to draw a
connection to Tharja, but it was much harder to link him into the picture. She
had her dark hair color, though her particular style had one side of her locks
being longer and bangs hanging over her right eye. While her cheeks were a bit
more prominent, they still bore a similarity to the woman.
There was also the annoying fact that her chest, which he had become
uncomfortably intimate with for a total of ten seconds, was as…
Ahem… bountiful… as her mother's. This seemed to be a trait that passed onto
all of her daughters.
That, and being slightly above average in height. Absolutely unacceptable.
Unfair, even. Where was this height coming from, and why was he not blessed
with any of it?
But what really vouched for who her heritage was that she was clearly well-
versed in the powers of dark magic ("Me? Cold in this weather? Please, there's
an easy hex for that!"). Dressed in the very same style of robes Tharja had
worn when they first met, mesh cloths covered by more solid lengths of
material, it was almost like he was looking at a copy of the woman. She seemed
comfortable in spite of the revealing outfit, and, according to reports, she
had singlehandedly blasted her way through Risen to meet up with them in the
shrine.
It would have been easy to say that she was, perhaps, Lon'qu's child. Somehow,
perhaps in desperate need, Tharja had turned to the Feroxi for succor and then
the girl was had out of wedlock. Or anyone's, really. She could have just
inherited her mother's hair color, after all.
But no.
The woman had claimed that she was his daughter out loud and swung him around
until he had so immaturely asked that she release him from the immediate
proximity of her bosom.
And just like him, much to his annoyance, she also lacked her memories, though
she recalled much about him.
"So… I'm your father, you say?"
They were seated at a table in his tent, sheltered from the cold by the thick
layers.
"Of course you are!" she smiled widely at him. "You're a lot younger than I
recall, though, with the whole time traveling thing and all that."
This was supposed to be an assessment of her abilities, but he found that all
he wanted to know was about his love life. Or what it could have been. Or what
it would be, or what he should do, or-
"Morgan, can you tell me a bit more about… well, me? What was I like in the
future?"
"Well, that's kind of a big question." Morgan leaned back, placing a hand at
her chin. "In what way?"
"Was I…" He needed to know. He needed to know if he was right, because the
answer that was currently staring back at him made Robin wonder otherwise. "Was
I a happy man in your future?"
"Hm…" her brows furrowed, digging deep into memories that he wasn't sure
existed. "I always recall you trying to slip small candies whenever you could
visit, and you smiled a lot. And to someone else, too. I think there was one
more."
"You mean your sister?"
"I… I guess? Oh, and definitely Mother." Her smile was wide and she kept going,
as if driven by the small memories of him she could remember. "You were always
happy to see us, and especially happy to see her." Her lips turned down a
little, before a solemn look spread across her features, a look of quiet
determination. "And you were always sad when you had to leave. None of us
wanted to part, and yet you still had to. And so I decided that I would learn
magic so that when I was old enough, I wouldn't have to be left behind. I would
be right there with you."
"Really? What about Noire? Did she also train to fight?" When he thought about
it and how skilled she was with a bow (at least when she was being bold), it
made sense that she had been practicing for a long time.
"Noire... Noire... She's the one with blonde hair, right?" Morgan moved her
palms to her chest, pushing up her breasts a bit, "Kinda big boobs? The archer
that was almost crying all over me?"
For a moment he had to remind himself that this was a woman who lived under the
context that she was his daughter. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes, that's
her."
"I... I can't really recall. But I'm sure she would have wanted to join! And
Mother, too! She hated letting you go when you were able to return, kept saying
'I should be watching your back' or something whenever we said our final
goodbyes."
Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts drift, taking the knowledge in slowly.
While some facts were still left in the dark, there was more information on how
the war was clearly affecting them. He could understand that Tharja wanted to
join him. If she was any bit as clingy as she was in this timeline, he could
only imagine how much she wanted to stay with him in Morgan's time. Did she
feel bogged down by having to remain at home and raise the children without
him? And did the fighting become so bad that war was what his children looked
forward to? That was the last thing he wanted to see children be involved in,
from the future or not.
But he could start to see the basis of an argument between him and Tharja. He
could have wanted them to stay put, to stay out of the war and live safely,
while she wanted to be with him as a combatant, someone who could fight with
him, who could join him in their tent after a long day and hold him, knowing
that they fought as a family to make sure that everyone survived. Maybe she
wanted to fight with him to help secure a future for their daughters.
And yet Morgan's side of the story seemed to clash with what Noire told him.
She had yet to mention any of the bad things her sister went through. Was she
only remembering the good parts? Or was her timeline one where he did not
disappear? He could already feel his stomach flip at the possibilities.
Morgan's voice eventually shook him from his thoughts.
"Hey…" her eyes squinted at him for a moment. "Daddy, where's your collar?"
"What?" his hand went to scratch an itch on his neck that seemed to suddenly
come to mind.
"You know, the collar that Mother gave you?" she drew one of her slender
fingers across the skin of her neck to indicate where she had seen it on him.
"Something about you was bothering me, but now I realize that this is the first
time I saw you without it."
He kept that thing? And he wore it all the time?
"I-I'm afraid I don't quite follow…"
"What?" Morgan quickly leaned forward and put her hands on the table they were
seated at. "But that black leather one was your favorite!"
He had more than one?
"You never left home without it! Is it in your tent?" She looked around, trying
to catch a glimpse of the band.
"Well… no, it's… it's not in here." He bit his lip. He knew that it was
somewhere in Tharja's tent, though he was unsure if it was still in one piece.
"So you know what I'm talking about then?"
"Yes." He sighed, putting his hand back down. "I had it for a while, but… I
returned it."
"Huh? … Oh… O-OH! ... Um…" Robin saw her face twist from contemplation to slow,
sorrowful realization. She most likely didn't know the full details. She
couldn't have figured out that much. But outside of getting swept up in the
moment, Morgan was smart. She must have put at least a part of the equation
together.
An uncomfortable silence swept between the two of them. But finally, he felt
his lips move. "Were you happy with me?"
"Huh?"
He felt his hands clench and he looked down, almost unsure if he should ask. If
they were ultimately unhappy in the future, then that would have meant he
picked correctly in distancing himself from Tharja. But the way she described
him made it sound like they were as happy as they could be during their time as
a family.
"I mean… I wasn't around a lot. I was off fighting a war and only visited home
every now and then. But… when I did come, when I did see... my family, was I…
was I a good father? Did I do my best to make you happy?"
Robin had never been so scared to hear a response. He feared a no because that
meant he had fallen short of his own ideas of what the basics of fatherhood
consisted of. But a yes meant he had made a grave mistake.
"Well, duh!" Morgan looked at him like a parent playfully admonishing a silly
child. "You were always happy to be home and you always tried to spend time
with me. And probably Noire too, though I can't really speak for her."
"And sometimes, Mother would get so jealous she'd pick you up and put you on
her lap and just never let you go anywhere. And you always pretended to hate it
but you really seemed to like it. And… And… um… I…" There was a lapse in her
description followed by a short frown, hand poised in the air, most likely due
to her lack of memory. He knew because he tended to do the same at first. But
she waved it off and continued. "Either way, you loved it when you were home,
we loved it when you were home, and though you didn't always act like you
enjoyed it, you liked it when mother was being cuddly with you."
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and putting his elbows on the table,
fingers wringing together. "Yeah, I can see why I liked that."
Everything he thought he knew was turned up onto its head.
***** Coming Out *****
After seeing Morgan and how she introduced herself to Robin, Tharja was at a
loss. Signs pointed to the fact that her attempts at a relationship had failed.
He had unceremoniously taken what she offered him and decided that for all that
she lay out on the table for him, it wasn't enough. It wasn't what he wanted,
and he demanded that she stop.
Never mind that he could have always said no to her particular way of love and
suggested his own. She didn't think that it would have made a difference for
her. But he never did, and instead chose to leave.
Tharja didn't let herself cry. Dark mages at her level were beyond petty things
like that. But the hardest part was keeping herself from following after him.
It was one of the things that he clearly stated was to no longer continue. No
more following him and watching to make sure nothing happened to him. No more
entering his tent at night to watch him sleep. No more cuddling.
No more sex.
Separating from a partner was never difficult for Tharja, even in some of her
longer term relationships. But this was different. This was Robin, someone whom
she found herself dangerously attracted to, and now that he had chosen to leave
her behind she was suffering.
Any other time, she was sure she would have considered a split in relations a
boon. But to see what she wanted taken away and then to be further taunted by
what could have been? Impossible.
And then there was that festering aura within him she had to consider. Watching
it grow in him, that dark, icky, feeling emanating from the center of his body
was both enthralling and terrifying. Here he was, a mysterious harbor of
darkness, an anomaly that would send dark mages scurrying back and forth with
piles of notes, and she was able to witness its existence firsthand. Perhaps
that was why she was treating him the way she did. She held a direct influence
over how strong or weak it became.
And right now she knew she had no control over it. Knowing that this darkness
was growing in him and that she was no longer able to restrain it worried her.
Most dark mages were schooled on how to control this strange entity, but Robin
lacked the training for it. Seeing how he could barely use a flux tome when she
first introduced it to him solidified that fact. However he seemed to have this
natural resistance to it. And with its growing size, most would have gone mad.
Those that didn't were often already mad in some way.
She got up from the edge of her tent. She didn't even lay out her bedroll. She
found that there was no point if it was just her. It was cold and empty. But
she needed to talk with Robin. She needed to make sure that he was capable of
maintaining that darkness within him. And at the very least she needed to know
what was going to happen with their daughters.
And she needed to tell him that she wouldn't mistreat them. Maybe if she needed
to discipline them, but never out of malice. She had no idea how her other self
could do such a thing. But they were just as much her children as they were
his. Only the ones that were truly lost could forsake their own flesh and
blood. Not even dark mages looked upon that lightly.
Maybe things were really just that bad in those times.
Looking at the tent entrance, she felt a raw determination in her chest. It was
different from the gloom and dark that she was used to. It was fierce and
hopeful, not unlike when she and Robin basked in their post-lovemaking. It
reminded her that there was an established bond, one that even different
schools of dark magic recognized and sought to try and draw power from. She was
going to take her chance.
With renewed hope and long strides, she reached for the flap and pushed it
open, letting the daylight seep into her tent.
"O-Oh."
There stood Robin, hand raised to knock. After a moment, he sheepishly looked
away and let the formed fist fall to his side. Any other moment she would have
smiled, knowing where his stare would naturally land because of his stature,
but she remained silent and made no moves.
With a renewed gaze, confident in himself and yet unsure of the outcome, he
looked up at Tharja.
"Let's talk."
===============================================================================
For all the thought Robin put into the conversation, what he wanted to say, how
to respond if she asked a certain question, and where he would draw his limits,
actually trying to say them was turning out to be difficult. More than once did
he open his mouth only to close it again. Maybe it was tied to how Tharja was
simply remaining still. With how she used to be around him, perhaps seeing her
like this was unsettling.
A part of him knew, though, that things would be easiest if he could just start
to talk.
"How are you doing?"
It was a terrible and asinine question, and he did his best to refrain from
biting his lip afterwards. Of course he knew how she was doing – badly. The few
times he did spot her she seemed sullen and grumpier than the other times when
she didn't seem to know he was watching. Those moments were few and far in
between, as she rarely did not know that he was watching. Only when she was
truly engrossed in a subject did she seem to lose sight of him.
Tharja, however, did not comment upon the choice of question. "Not… Not well."
It didn't take a genius to see that.
Still, Robin was able to get his foot in the door, and right now that was what
he needed, pounding heart be damned. "I guess we both know why I'm here, so
I'll spare you the small talk." He took a deep breath. "I'm here to talk about
Morgan, and how it affects us."
She slowly nodded, attentive but clearly reserved in her motions. Her hands
were balled together in front of her.
"I interviewed her a few days ago, asking a bit about her abilities and what
she was capable of. But ultimately… I asked a lot about us, about who we were
as a family and as parents." He found that his hands came to rest at the side
of the small table between them. "I… well, to say I learned a lot about us
would only be half of the story."
Looking back into her eyes, he tried to remain as calm as possible. "I thought
a lot about us afterwards, too."
There was a brief silence before Tharja slowly spoke. "And your conclusion?"
He sighed, "I know that it certainly left me with more questions than I
expected." His hands tightened just a little bit, and he had to tell himself to
relax. "Noire and Morgan didn't share the same story with me. Noire talked
about all of the bad things while Morgan talked about what was good. At first,
I thought that what they shared did not support the other. But as I thought
more and more about it, I could not prove that one was lying. There wasn't
enough evidence to say that one is right and the other is wrong. From what was
shared and what I know, they could both be right – they might have only shared
different points of time in our family life."
Then with much fear and hesitation and knowing that he was about to cross a
line that he clearly drew only a bit more than a month ago, he stretched his
arm across the table to try and gently grasp her hand (thankfully Tharja, out
of realization or desperate for his touch, slid her arms just a little bit
forward, saving him face. Curse his shorter stature!). "I did realize, though,
that when I said everything to you, I… wasn't being fair. I was thinking about
me, and I didn't give you a chance to speak up for yourself. I was so settled
on you being a horrid life partner that it didn't even occur to me to ask you
what you thought."
"I think I was scared," he continued, swallowing hard but glad that Tharja had
not started speaking yet. "I was afraid of how our relationship was developing
– that it was just sex, that there were no real feelings and with that… that
collar thing you wanted me to just become another conquest. I was mostly
neutral to it. I mean… I was scared, but it didn't necessarily mean that we
would go down that path entirely and forever. And then once I met Noire, I was
afraid that after I no longer fit your desires or you became tired of it, I
would have been cast aside, but the child kept us together and unhappy, and
that it led to places I didn't want to be in."
"But then Morgan showed me that there was the possibility that we were happy
together, that we may have chosen this lifestyle because we wanted it. Once she
showed me what she remembered, I realized I was being rash and for that I'm
sorry."
Getting all of that off his chest and apologizing felt nice, and Tharja seemed
to brighten a little more at the admittance as well. The relief of knowing that
she was not rejected must have been a welcome thought.
"If it was anyone else in your spot," she started, "I don't think I would have
given them the time of day."
It was like Robin hadn't breathed for days, and the sudden breath of fresh air
was a relief – this was the Tharja he was familiar with.
"You know how I am with you. If you ask me to jump, I'll ask how high… if the
reward is good enough." A foot trailed up his shin, reminding Robin that there
was still the whole domination aspect of their relationship to discuss as well,
but one step at a time. "It's not unlike what I've asked of you on our first
night. Jump and I'll reward you. I admit, though, that perhaps you were not
quite ready for pleasures on such a level. Even then, I said I'll take good
care of you. I still stand by those words. I can wait."
There was a short silence in between the two, but it was a gentle one. It
seemed to be one that neither wanted to break, perhaps simply wishing to enjoy
the fact that they were beginning to agree on something.
They missed each other.
"I want for us to be together," he finally said. He was even more relieved to
say that than his previous admission. Tharja's lips curled up into a smile, and
while there were those darker grins of hers, this one was different from those.
"For them… and…"
"And us. I don't know what 'us' will look like, but I'm willing to try and
explore. I saw an end where we were happy together, and I'm not afraid to try
to find and walk that path with you."
His hand squeezed hers a tiny bit. "I just want to say, though, that I'm not
here for a second chance. I'm not here for a game where we keep asking what the
other has done for us recently in bed. I'm asking for something more. I'm
asking for us to start over, to learn from scratch. We entered this
relationship with preconceived notions and I can see how they harmed us. I
don't want to ask you to forget what happened when we first separated. I know
that I could have approached it better. For now though, I just want to focus on
building up to something better by a fresh beginning."
"A beginning, huh..." she looked to the side, no doubt wondering what Robin was
trying to see. "That's a lot to think about," she said, turning back to face
him. "A lot of possibilities to consider."
"I think it's best if we get a time to really just lay out everything we would
like to know about the other, and just really sit and figure out what we want
for the other. But…"
Unfortunately, there was that three-letter word, and he felt Tharja stiffen a
little, her smile faltering a bit. He tried to break this to her the gentlest
way possible. "I think we're going to need help. I have a feeling we can't do
this alone."
"I think we should get a bit of counseling first."
===============================================================================
Asking Tharja to let another person know about their relationship was certainly
a daunting task. The sorceress stood to lose more than he did – it was easier
to see it as a predatory relationship as opposed to one with two consenting
parties. He knew he was asking a lot from her. But once Robin let her know who
it was they would be speaking with, she seemed to be much more accepting of the
proposition, save one small addition. If they were going to pursue this, if
they were going to be together, she was going to (eventually) let everyone know
who he belonged to, and in her own special way.
He consciously scratched the dark collar around his neck, making sure that it
was as low as possible before raising a hand and knocking on the frame of the
tent.
"Please, enter."
A breath. A deep, nervous breath. Very slowly, Robin lifted the cloth to the
side, and after a moment's trepidation, his head quickly looking from side to
side, he strode into the tent and let the material fall back down.
"I hope I am not intruding, Libra."
The monk looked up from the scriptures on his desk, his straight gold locks
framing his tapered face as he moved his notes to the side of his desk. He was
dressed in a beige long sleeve shirt. Perhaps he was preparing for sleep, and
it made the tactician worry. However, his confident voice seemed to indicate
otherwise as he lit another candle, adding more light to the space they were
in. "Worry not, Robin. I am more than willing to lend you an ear, if that is
what you wish for. How can I help you?"
The monk motioned towards a chair and he sat down. His stature didn't help and
he was forced to look up at Libra. "Well, I want to talk to you about Morgan
and… and Noire."
"I see. What do you wish to discuss?"
"Well… in order for a child to exist… the parents have to… get together."
He was still bad at talking about subjects like these, but he was getting
better. Slowly but surely getting better.
"The relationship wasn't so good at first, but both parties want to repair the
damage done. Am I… Am I making sense so far?"
"Crystal clear."
For some reason, the monk seemed on edge. Still, Robin continued. At the very
least he wasn't jumping to conclusions.
"Well… Morgan announced that I'm her dad and taking in how Noire has blonde
hair, I've come to the conclusion that the future me fathered both of them. I
mean… you could have fathered Noire but… I don't… I don't know if a man of your
position would be-"
"I am allowed to take a spouse, if I felt that Naga had led me to do so," Libra
was kind enough to gently correct him. "However I do not see that happening
amongst us here, so I shall remain celibate for now. Still, you are digressing.
Do not be afraid, Robin. Please tell me how I can help."
"W-Well… um, I think I know the mother." A lie. He knew the mother already.
Knew and slept with her. "But we've had some… issues before. I-I mean, I want
to be with her for the children and for us. I believe we can fix this, but… I
feel we need help."
When he looked back up at the monk, his position had changed. His fingers had
intertwined with each other and he held it right at the base of his chin, his
elbows resting on his desk. His eyes were closed, as if contemplating. Or
praying silently. Robin wasn't sure. But he knew he needed the man's help. He
seemed like someone who would know his way around helping people in their
relationships. Never mind that he wasn't in one.
Finally, the man brought his hands back to the table. Taking a deep breath, he
opened his eyes and then looked to the side, specifically to the left of Robin.
"You do not need to hide from me, Tharja," Libra spoke calmly, causing Robin to
reel back a bit, "I understand why you two are seeking my assistance. There is
no shame in that. Please, lower your guard and allow me to help you."
Could the monk see through her hex? The plan was to sneak her in and then just
let it all out in one go over the poor man. But now, Robin was unsure what he
was getting himself into. Again.
Looking to his left, he watched as if a veil had fallen from the top of Tharja,
slowly revealing her to the world. The look on her face was just a little
stunned. "I'm surprised you can see me."
"I am trained in the verses of magic. Though my repertoire of skills in that
field may not be as vast as yours, I am able to detect when it is being used in
my presence. I am not able to see you, but I know you are there." The monk
returned his gaze to Robin.
"I understand you were seeking help in regards to a relationship. Do you mean
to say you needed assistance with your own?"
Robin silently nodded.
"And you said that you had some troubles earlier. Barring the obvious
difference between the two of you, how far along have you-"
"We've fucked before," Tharja bluntly put it. "We've been at it for two years."
Libra once again closed his eyes, this time sighing and slowly bringing a hand
to his forehead.
"I see that patience does not appear to be your strong point."
***** New Moves *****
And thus, Robin and Tharja shared the life story of their relationship with
Libra. Or, rather, it was mostly Robin who shared. Tharja seemed mostly content
to sit back and let him describe it, only interjecting her side of the story if
she felt it necessary. All the while the priest was content to sit and think,
asking questions to both of them and writing notes.
"When Tharja gave you your first orgasm, how did you actually feel at that
moment? Look past the feeling of release, but rather what emotion you felt."
"First impressions often lead to lasting feelings about a topic, Tharja. After
the decision was made to pursue sexual interaction, what made you decide to
pursue Robin in such a manner?"
"What drove you two to continue with having sex these past two years?"
Some of the questions, to both of them, were uncomfortable. Libra, however,
pushed through and continued with more questions until he finally set his quill
aside.
"Robin, to make sure that I am correct, you would like to explore the
possibility of a relationship with Tharja, but how you have sex and how it is
approached one of your primary concerns. And yet despite all this, you wish to
find a way to start over."
He nodded his assent, a little drowsy as the night had started to turn deep.
"And Tharja," the priest turned to the dark mage, "You would do anything to
keep your relationship with Robin, while hoping to share with him your
particular appetite."
"Isn't that obvious?" she huffed. "Don't tell me that that's all you have to
say."
"I understand that it might seem trite, but please, bear with me just a bit
longer."
With one last breath, Libra spoke.
"You need to have sex with each other, with-"
Robin was flabbergasted, "But that's what we've been doing!"
"…waste of my time." Tharja had already gotten up from her chair and began to
leave. "I don't need you to tell me to sleep with Robin."
Libra closed his eyes, and the boy swore the monk's hand had become a fist for
the briefest of moments. "Please, let me finish." The man looked towards him
and his gaze seemed unsettling. "Robin, your first sexual experience, while
gratifying, was certainly a terrifying one at the same time."
"Tharja," he looked towards the mage, who had turned around. "Your first time
had left an impression that you were looking for something more carnal than
amorous."
"To help overcome these first impressions of each other, I recommend sex.
However, there are going to be some limitations."
===============================================================================
Libra had prescribed three rules. The first was that only one of them could act
at any time. While the other was to enjoy the attention and could react
positively, they were not to return affection. The second was that the inactive
party was allowed to refuse the advances or ministrations. Finally, if the
person refused, the other was to try a different path or approach.
It was their third attempt after their session with Libra, and Tharja was still
having difficulty in getting Robin to accept her particular advances. It was
hard enough to find opportunities to even try to get naked together in the
Feroxi fort, and one near-accident made them resort to meeting in Robin's
private room. And the fact that she hit no after no after no was becoming a
turnoff. While she was sure she was at least being nice with her attempts,
Robin seemed to be unconvinced, stating that he wanted to get this done
properly. He assured her that she was getting closer but still felt just a
little off, that something wasn't quite right.
For the third time, the two of them sat across each other on a bed naked, their
eyes roaming across their bare bodies. She could see that his member had
stiffened, and while he made no move to hide or otherwise shy away, that rosy
blush on his cheeks seemed too stubborn to leave him. She knew that she was
wet, and inwardly she hoped that the old saying would be right, that the third
time was the charm, despite knowing that such a phrase held no water – she was
a sorceress after all. Still, it was all she could cling onto in hopes of
gratification.
But right before she leaned forward, intent on making her advances again, Robin
raised his voice.
"M-May I go first?"
His question surprised her, and it must have shown on her face since he
continued. "I know you've been trying your best," he stammered a little, cheeks
flushing just a tiny bit more, "but maybe this will help. I mean, I don't know
if it will help or if it's actually-"
He shook his head, pushing away whatever he would have said. Still, he
resolutely looked her in the eye in spite of his flustering and he had a
determined visage. "May I?"
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "That's hardly something you need to ask
for."
"I know, but… I've been thinking about what Libra told us, so I just want to
make sure everything is okay. Lay down please?"
As she did so, Robin crawled up to her and gently parted her legs, exposing her
pink flesh to the cool air. His hands slowly glided down her thighs and she
shivered, her body brimming with anticipation.
"I'm going to-"
She groaned "I'm not made of paper, Robin. Just do it."
"But Libra said-"
"If I'm uncomfortable I'll let you know. I'm horny and I don't want to wait."
He looked her in the eyes intensely, as if trying to discern what she really
meant before continuing. "… Okay then."
Very slowly, his eyes not leaving hers, his head descended until he was just a
bit away from her opening. For a moment Tharja's mouth hung open as this was
not what she had expected. Her heart beat faster as he opened his mouth, and
she let out a small hiss as Robin began to drag his tongue over her skin.
While it wasn't his first time doing this, it took much of Tharja's willpower
to not grab his head and push down. He seemed content to go slow, perhaps still
unsure of what he was doing. Her hands bunched the sheets beneath her and she
moaned, louder than she intended.
As if finally accepting that she was welcoming his ministrations, he took his
eyes away from hers and began to lap away in earnest. His fingers plied away at
the wet folds and he pushed his tongue deeper, making her body arch and her
legs tremble. Her hips thrust against him as she closed his eyes and let him
eat away at her.
It had been too long since she and Robin had been like this, Tharja decided.
Biting back her cry, she did her best to endure the trembling shudders that
came with release in silence.
When the feeling passed, she saw that Robin had retreated back to his original
spot, looking pleasantly accomplished. It had felt good and he knew it. A part
of her wanted to take control from here, to show him that playtime was over and
that whatever had come earlier tonight was simply foreplay before her libido.
But at the same time, that wasn't what this exercise was supposed to do. It was
to remove the first impression that she had created two years ago, to show that
she was capable of change, or at least attempting it.
And Robin was right. Seeing him in action had at least given her an idea.
Moving to the edge of the bed, she kept her knees together and let them hang at
the edge.
She lightly patted her thigh, knowing that he would be more than happy to
oblige to come closer.
"Sit here, please."
He always did enjoy cuddling.
===============================================================================
This wasn't the first time she had invited him to her lap. Whether it was for
simple cuddling or for some other form of sexual interaction, it was a common
request from Tharja. It was easy enough to say yes when she was clothed and
sitting in his chair. There were a few nights in their past where she was
simply content to hold him while he studied. Other times it was a part of the
act – she would let her hands slide over him before gently diving under his
clothes.
But it was usually a surprise when it happened like that. There seemed to be no
particular rhyme or reason as to when it was for one reason or another. Yet
tonight, when Robin knew that it was going to lead to some sort of
gratification, he felt somewhat hesitant.
Perhaps it was because she was giving him a choice?
Shaking his head a little bit, he moved over and sat in her lap before leaning
back against her. Very slowly, Tharja raised her hands to his shoulders, gently
kneading and dragging her fingers down his arms and back up. She seemed careful
to not touch the front of his body, content feeling his back and sides, and he
briefly shuddered. And usually Tharja's lips were more involved, going for his
ears and kissing his head and neck, but for some reason she refrained from
doing so.
She seemed to realize his anxiousness, as she then spoke again, "Sit sideways,
please."
"Sideways?
"Yes, across my lap."
That was new to hear. Tharja wasn't one to shy away from full frontal nudity or
affection, so to hear this particular request made him curious. Not scared, he
realized, but just curious. Swinging his legs over the side, he felt her thighs
part beneath him to let him sit in between, reclining against the warm flesh
like a seat. One of her hands trailed to his stomach and he let loose a breath
he didn't know he held onto. Her other arm went to support his back.
In one slow, fluid motion, her hand glided down to his cock and he twitched in
anticipation. She took ahold of him with a feather-light grip before turning
her dark eyes to his. Looking at him, she gently slid her fingertips up his
member and he hissed.
And in that momentary gap, she moved her head down and gently claimed his lips.
She didn't dive in immediately, seeking to first peck at him. But after a few
more light touches he groaned again. His hands were balled into small fists,
seeking to hold something, to do anything in return like fondle her breasts or
feel her sides. But Libra's directions remained steadfast in his mind and he
did his best stay still.
She must have known, for when he gasped a third time, her tongue dashed in. He
wanted to be active, to try and push back for her, but something was different
and all he could do was languish under her movements.
She was still in control, in a dominant position. Robin knew that, but the
feeling here was different. Where there were times where it felt like the
situation had been forced upon him a little, this… this…
It was different. Before, it was a time where he just wanted release but here
he found himself desiring that she continue this type of engagement. This…
torturous love… was making him want more. While he could recall being horny, he
hadn't felt this type of arousal before. His member felt harder, more firm
against her soft ministrations, and all he could figure out was that he wanted
more. More of her kisses, more of her tongue mashing against his, more of her
hand gliding up and down his shaft.
It was like he could feel her desire and care for him in every movement,
despite her dominant position. It was a sensual dominance, and he was drinking
it in.
He moaned, and he felt Tharja pull away just a tiny bit to chuckle. Immediately
he pined for her contact, and yet he stayed himself. Her gaze settled against
his, and at first she moved her lips if to speak. But for whatever reason she
withheld her thoughts and, to his relief, dove back down again.
Her grip on him tightened ever so lightly as she continued, until he had lost
himself under her firm, slow strokes and kisses. His body shook, arched,
twisted, and languished under her tugs.
"Please…"
For a moment, he thought his utterance that slipped out made her want to stop.
But in a moment she was upon him again, fiercer than before. Her tongue lashed
against his while he was turned helpless by her hold on his cock. Faster and
faster she went, and all he could do was whimper into her mouth as his body
tensed for the moment.
He briefly worried that she would hold off just a moment too soon as she had
done a few times before, but her intentions were true. He squeezed and pulsed
in her grip as the white heat erupted from his member, the cum landing against
his stomach and chest in thick strings and drops before dribbling down the
sides of her hand.
Finally pulling back, she gave him a smug smile as she continued to stroke him,
letting the rest of the orgasm run its course, his body twisting and panting
for breath.
===============================================================================
Robin knew that Tharja was not fully satisfied. She had always demonstrated a
big appetite for sex, but for now it looked as though she had curbed her
particular desires. After he had recovered, she had cleaned away his seed with
the red handkerchief and pulled the covers over them.
An arm snaked around his body. "I trust that met your preferences?"
"I'm pleasantly surprised," he exhaled, "It's quite what I had thought it would
turn out to be."
She pulled him into an embrace and took a breath, "I admit that I… didn't
exactly make it easy for you to believe me, but I'm glad you're starting to
understand."
"Well, I'm sure I still have some questions," he fidgeted a little, moving
himself closer to her body. "But for now, I think I need to sort of process
what I've seen."
"Hmm, fair enough," she relented. Giving him one last kiss on the head, she
closed her eyes and pushed it no further for now, content with what they had
shared.
"… Say, if Libra, as a priest, is supposed to remain celibate, how does he know
what to do regarding love and sex?"
"No idea."
***** Alone Time *****
Robin felt that the first (and easier) step for him was to tell Morgan and
Noire. And while Morgan was clearly happy to know that he would attempt to
pursue a relationship with their mother, the other one had almost lost herself
in tears. There was a clear sense of relief, that she hadn't screwed up
everything by coming back.
"Thank you so much, Daddy!"
And it made him feel better, too, sans the crushing hug that Noire gave him
(she had to kneel down for it, though). It felt like he was making the right
choice. Even if it didn't work out in the end, he felt optimistic about giving
it another try. He had more knowledge about relationships than when he started,
and he had Libra's guidance.
Two thing did concern him though. Being maybe fifteen and a father was
certainly a boggling thought. But he had given Noire the benefit of the doubt.
He would do his best to be a father figure, even if his stature didn't quite
match it. And he was pretty sure it would be years before he actually fathered
a child anyway, so this was good practice.
Speaking of stature, that was the other thing that concerned him.
"Say, do I ever get any taller?"
Noire stood up and moved beside him before straightening her hand and putting
it against the top of his head. She smiled again as she spoke. "Just a little
bit."
Admittedly, that moment made him puff out his chest in pride. But then after
all the hugs and thank-yous were said, that left the bigger issue at hand -
talking with Tharja. Granted, she already knew that he wanted to pursue the
relationship, but figuring out how they would do the whole sex thing was the
hard part.
And it's not like they could just ignore it forever. Assuming all things went
well, that meant that somehow their own Noire and Morgan would be born, which
meant that sooner or later they were going to have sex. And knowing Tharja's
appetite, she would be leaning towards the sooner than later.
This was also compounded by the fact that the day after he told Morgan and
Noire, they had set sail for Valm. This meant that just about everyone was
together on the boat, which had removed the opportunity of privacy from any
location. And with the way the supplies turned out, he was unable to secure a
whole room for himself. He wasn't about to pull rank for some additional
favors.
Besides, married couples were given priority, and as far as everyone else knew
besides Libra, they weren't seeing each other. Outside of the immediate
precipice, the thought had kept Robin awake longer than he would have liked.
Did they even allow marriage at his age? And how much was the age difference
between him and Tharja? He never gave weddings much thought on his own, but
suddenly he felt that he'd rather have just a quiet ceremony as opposed to a
full-out event like Chrom's.
He needed some sort of small plan to discuss things with Tharja, and so he set
out to study the routines of those on the ship. He was a tactician, after all -
planning was his specialty. And to plan, he needed to know the layout of the
ship and the habits of those on it.
But he finally found it. They had to naturally meet at night, where a good
majority of Shepherds were resting. They would also require a location that was
more secluded than usual to help prevent eavesdroppers. Finally, he needed to
be in a location where no one would think to search for him there (the same
went for Tharja, but he wasn't sure if anyone besides him ever attempted to
find her anyway).
They would meet in the storage room in three days.
Tharja never really agreed with boats. It wasn't the seasickness that got to
her - that was easily handled with some ground newt and ash of ginger root -
but the confined space meant that everyone was in everyone's business. Privacy
was always a concern, but it was especially stifling now that Robin had decided
to try and continue with their relationship.
She could tell that he was trying to do something. He kept giving her quick
stares, looking to her eyes whenever he saw her and she worried if he was being
too open about it. Whenever no one was watching, though, she flashed him a
quick, small smile.
But she could tell that he was a bit stressed about it as well - that icky
feeling was building up again, thought it was different. Previously it was
often chaotic and impulsive, possibly even affecting his decision making and
reasoning before. But now it seemed less distraught and more directed. Instead
of just feeling like it was extending and shrinking like a droplet of water, it
was made of hard, solid edges, like the beginnings of a lattice or embroidered
pattern. A dark and icky snowflake, perhaps.
And while it was normally easy to handle, the current situation was terrible
for it. It was easy for her to procure a safe space for the two of them to
talk, but she knew that she needed to let Robin go at his own pace. He would
come to her under his terms.
Besides, she noticed that Robin had kept his collar on, and it excited her to
no end. A reward was in order, and when a slip of paper in Robin's handwriting
was tucked in her covers one night, she was more than ready for it.
The empty hallways of the ship were cool and dark, lit only by hooded lamps in
the corners. After making sure that Gaius was asleep (or at least not following
him - his specialty was stealth and thievery, after all), he quickly slipped
the fire tome from beneath his pillow and tiptoed out in cotton pants and a
nightshirt, tossing his coat after realizing how cold it was.
Looking both ways to make sure the hall was empty, he took two lefts, a right,
another left, and finally ducked behind a corner and silently counted to three
- just in time to overhear Cordelia return from her patrol and exchange duties
with Henry. His particular patrol path would start in the opposite direction,
which allowed him to move through the remaining hallway before taking the
stairs down and to the right, just in time to enter the storage room before
Stahl could round the opposite end.
"You know, you could have just asked me for an invisibility hex. No need to
sneak around so carefully that way."
He jumped at first, but then gave a breath of relief when he realized it was
Tharja. Taking out his fire tome, he created a small flame and began to
carefully light the lamps in the corners of the room. "It might be extra work,
sure, but some of our more attuned companions might be able to pick me out."
There seemed to be extra candles than normal in the room compared to the other
lamps, clashing with the normal design of the ship, but he waved the thought
away. Perhaps it was darker in here than the in other areas. "Considering the
nature of our relationship, I'd rather err on the side of caution."
He flicked his hand and the small flame died away. At the same time, Tharja had
come over to him and gently placed one of her hands on his shoulder. "And if
you were to encounter someone? What would you say then?"
"I guess I'd say I couldn't sleep - I can't recall ever being rocked to sleep,
after all, and this boat seems good at the rocking part."
"I suppose there could be worse alibis." Placing her back against the wall, she
sat down and let her legs slide out and a little to the side. Her hand fell in
front of her body, tapping the floor twice. Like clockwork, he moved over and
sat down in front of her before leaning back. His skin tingled a little as her
arms went beneath his and wrapped around his body.
It had been some time since Tharja held him like this. While she sat him on her
lap during Libra's exercise, she had reigned in her advances. But here she held
him against her, seeking to be as close to him as possible.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. "I told Noire and Morgan about us."
"And?"
"Well," he shivered as a light warm breath fell against his neck, her forehead
digging into his blonde locks, "they're quite happy, as one would expect. I
mean, they're practically grown adults and all, but I think anyone would be
glad to hear that." He made a brief, pause, heart shuddering just a bit at his
own question. "What about letting the others know?" His gaze fell to their
feet. "We should find a way to share that."
"We could always just marry," her warm arms held him just a little tighter for
a moment. "Ricken and Nowi were able to get it done, weren't they?"
"No," he half-heartedly huffed, his lips going a little thin, "it's not that
simple, sadly."
"Oh?" She was genuinely surprised. "How come?"
Robin took a breath. "Well, for one, Nowi is a Manakete. Little is known about
them outside of ancient history, yet they are revered as descendents or
otherwise related to Naga. And on the other hand, Ricken is the heir to a noble
house. While not super powerful, if a Manakete wants to marry in, they are
going to make sure it happens. So despite walking what could be a fine line,
they can get away with it."
Lousy Ricken.
She clicked her tongue. "And we can't, then?" Tharja replied, annoyed. "Chrom
can't pull any strings for you?"
"Just because he's the Exalt doesn't mean he can just let it happen. And
besides, Chrom doesn't know we're seeing each other. The only person that
really knows is Libra. We'd probably have to ask him for help over this too,
but I don't want to get him into trouble either."
He resigned himself to the fact that they still didn't really have an answer.
"I guess I should tell Chrom first."
"Doesn't have to be now though, does it?"
"Yeah, maybe after we're done with Valm."
It was a bit of a bothersome thought, but thankfully Tharja changed the
subject. "Anyway, since we're talking about this I assume you're ready for more
of me, then?"
He took a slow breath. This was the deep end - not exactly a point of no
return, but it was pretty close. He liked the concept of family, though he was
sure he certainly wasn't ready to start one. And it's not that he didn't like
Tharja. In fact, he had found himself more attached to her than he thought he
was. It was just that her habits…
His hands fell on top of hers, fingers playing with her thumb. "Well, a part of
me won't know until we do it... but that's the scary part."
"It's not an uncommon feeling," she softly kissed his hair. "I went through
that, too."
He looked over his shoulder, surprised that she of all people would relate to
him. "Really?"
"You forget about my previous relations. One was mostly normal. For my other
two, I was the dominant one in the first and then I was the submissive for the
woman," a small sigh escaped her lips. "So yes, I know exactly what you're
feeling right now. As they say, there's a first time for everything."
While he took some solace in that he wasn't alone with his concerns, he felt
other questions arise as well. He looked forward, staring down at their hands.
"What… uh… I guess… what did you do as a sub?"
"A good bit of everything," he could hear her grin. "It was fun, but in the end
I figured I enjoyed being in the lead more. But I have to say, there were a lot
of firsts for me during that time. I enjoyed some activities more than others,
but she was able to pick up on that and we didn't do those particular things
anymore."
Robin really wanted to ask what she had liked, but he remained silent. He felt
Tharja drag her lips across his collar.
"Regardless, you've worn my little gift ever since we've gotten back together.
How do you feel about a small reward?"
"It would depend on what that reward entailed," he cautiously said. "Should I
have a reason to feel concerned?"
"No, not really," he could hear her smile. "Just some minor things, unless you
want to try more."
Before he could answer, there was a slight hum with a tiny jostling of metal.
There was a strange sensation at the base of his neck, where the collar was,
and he brought his hand up to it. Pinching it with his finger, he felt his
eyebrows crease.
"Tharja… is this... is this collar vibrating?"
"Just a little bit," she kissed it again and it stopped. "I figured I would do
something simple and relatively harmless as a first attempt."
"It's… kinda weird. It's not what I was expecting, but…" his finger traced the
band of leather, "I don't really feel particularly plussed about it either."
Still, he bit his lip. The way she said it made it sound like…
"Tharja…" he was treading in strange waters now, "what else can you make it
do?"
There was that wicked chuckle that he thought he would hear from her. One of
her hands trailed up his chest before coming to a stop, her fingertips gently
resting against his neck.
"I could use it to help you relax your muscles if you wanted, relieve some
stress," she nipped his ear and felt his back stiffen. "And on the other end, I
could make you cum on the spot."
"R-Really?" That sounded like it was a lot to leave in someone's hands. She
wasn't going to abuse that, was she? Not where everyone might-
"Yes, really. But it's a little debilitating, so it's for me and me only." She
leaned in towards his ear, "Do you want to give it a try?"
Well, they were on a ship, where privacy was on the lower side. But on the
other hand, they were supposed to be in a secluded location that no one should
be entering at this time of night.
"D-Did you go through this too?"
"Of course. It was one of the first things she did to me."
"And… how was it?" He was hesitant to ask, but undeniably curious about knowing
more. "Did she just… you know, do it?"
"Oh, she never just did it." She held him tight and kissed his neck, the collar
vibrating again. "There was a lot of foreplay going on before it - a slow build
up."
One arm slipped behind him, and there was a rustle of cloth. It then returned
to his front and it grasped that red handkerchief of his, laying it out in
front of him. "So what do you say? Ready for your reward?"
It's not like there was going to be any rope, right?
He gulped. "O-Okay. But… if I don't like it, will you stop?"
Tharja gave one last kiss on his head before standing up and moving in front of
him. "Naturally." She gently placed the handkerchief down in front of him
before moving across the room to lean against the wall. "Remove your clothes
and kneel. But keep your coat on." She shot him a grin. "It looks nice on you."
He gave her an odd look, but obliged with her request. Removing his pajamas, he
slipped his coat over his bare skin and knelt before the red cloth. He placed
his palms on his thighs, noting that he was already hard. Perhaps all the talk
and his own imagination had gotten the best of him earlier.
"Now then, we're going to start." Her gaze locked eyes with Robin. "Look at me,
and try to keep looking at me. Am I understood?"
He quickly nodded his head. "Y-Yeah."
"Good boy," she took a deep breath before closing and opening her eyes. "So...
how does it feel?"
Robin felt some of his hairs prickle. He took a deep breath, briefly closing
his eyes to try and see what changed. But for the life of him he couldn't pick
it out. Taking another shaky breath, he spoke up. "I don't… I don't think I
feel anything."
"Good," she smiled toothily. "I didn't do anything yet. This is how you are
before any of that magic hits you. With that in mind, tell me," her voice went
low, playful, "how does this feel?"
A gentle wave of magic, a soft ripple, emanated from her position, and he felt
himself straighten. It was hard to describe what it really felt like. It was
quite like water breaking against him, but at the same time it wasn't what he
thought it would be like, none of that physicality he was expecting. He closed
his eyes, trying to concentrate on-
"Eyes open, Robin."
He took a breath and returned his gaze to Tharja. "Its… relaxing. But it
doesn't feel… y-you know," he felt himself grow embarrassed.
"We've been fucking for years, Robin, and I'm hardly a saint. No need to be
bashful." Tharja chuckled and she straightened her body, looking even taller
than she was before. "This is the low end of the spectrum, where it just helps
you relax your muscles."
She kept her eyes on him. "Now that we've established what those two sensations
are, what does this feel like?"
That rippling feeling he felt traveled lower. "I-It's going down my front…" A
breath of air escaped his lungs as it continued to go past his navel and settle
at the skin right below his waistline.
Her smile grew and the feeling gently bloomed, spreading beneath his skin. His
body shook and one of his hands slipped onto the wooden floor. It was like a
gentle fire crashing with-
"Keep looking at me."
Robin forced himself to look up at her, taking gulps of air. He felt hot all
over, and his cock seemed to stiffen even more.
"Tell me what it feels like." Her voice was controlled, confident, a tiny bit
playful.
"It's… It's like fire," he slowly gasped. "It's like a small fire that… it
just… feels good."
"Good. Good." She stepped closer, picking herself off the wall and slowly
putting one foot in front of the other. "That's just the beginning. Try to
fight it." Her walk came to a stop a little bit in front of him, forcing him to
look up at Tharja.
"J-Just the beginning?" If this was just the beginning, how was-
That feeling in his navel slunk lower and moved across his member. The heat
going around his body grew, and there was what felt like a gentle caress across
his body before a pulling sensation surrounded his member.
"Keep looking at me, Robin."
He didn't even realize that he had stopped looking. Taking in breath after
breath, he shakily craned his neck, his hands on the ground.
"Tell me." That tone of voice came back, one that seemed to commandeer him
without effort.
"F-Fire," he barely moaned out. "It's like… It's like I'm on fire. I'm hot all
over."
"And how do you feel?"
Robin didn't hesitate to respond. "G-Good."
Very slowly, Tharja knelt down to his level. Cupping Robin's face in her hands,
she leaned and and brought her lips against his. Her tongue slipped in
unhindered, and he tried to push back, to return her passion, but all he could
do was grip her thighs for support.
Finally she pulled back, keeping her hands on his cheeks for a moment longer
before licking her lips and he shivered.
"You don't know how much I missed kissing you." She retreated back a little,
keeping her gaze on him.
"It's going to become stronger now. Try to last, Robin, and keep looking at me.
The longer you last, the better it's all going to be at the end." Her eyes
seemed to flicker in the dim lighting. "Trust me. I've been there."
He didn't know how long he languished under her spell. Every time his gaze fell
away for too long, she would remind him and he did his best to snap to
attention. The heat grew to the point where he wanted to throw his cloak away,
but she had wanted him to keep it on, so it remained. His neck was beginning to
become sore, his arms shaking from the mounting pleasure and his weight, his
body on its hands and knees.
Robin moaned, her name escaping his lips amidst sharp inhales, and he heard her
chuckle. An even fiercer wave hit him and bit back a yell, his neck finally
giving out. His vision slowly pulled up from the floorboard and he saw her hand
gently cupping his chin, angling him to look up at her.
"Cum for me, Robin."
It was a low voice, but it was an order - one that he was too happy to oblige
to as the heat washed over him again and again, each fiercer than the last. His
body trembled and his breath left him as he felt himself twitch and tense under
the overwhelming pleasure, his cum shooting onto the red cloth and splashing
past it. Her gaze never left him, and he did his best to keep his eyes open,
watching that pleased smile grow just a little wider with each spasm of his
body.
When it finally ended, his body nearly becoming slack in the aftermath, the
dark mage left his field of vision, circling around him. Hands twined across
his body, ignoring the layer of sweat that had built up and pulling him into
her, back against the wall like they were before. One hand snaked to his chin
before turning it towards her.
"You did well. I'm pleased." She brought her lips to his, diving into his mouth
again but for far too brief of a time for his liking. He groaned, trying to get
closer, and she obliged with another soft kiss before turning her gaze upon the
soiled cloth. "Made quite a fun mess, too. Nice to see that you're letting me
take good care of you."
He was still trying to catch his breath, but suddenly he heard something and
his heart stopped.
"... not sure why it was locked."
A feminine voice came from the entrance to the room. The door swung into the
hall and Olivia stepped in. She first looked away, but a split second later she
looked and saw them.
She froze, and he could see her face begin to burn up in red.
Adrenaline and fear kicked in. "I-It's not... not what it looks like!" he did
his best to stand, drawing his coat around him
"Oh, no!" Olivia jumped. She began to wring her hands, trying to avert her gaze
a little. "That's okay! I didn't mean to interrupt your- um… uh…" she struggled
to find the right words and nearly walked into the door frame in her haste to
leave the room.
"Olivia, I can explain-"
"That's okay! No explanation needed!" she barely squeaked out. "You're still a
growing boy and it's natural to want some uh… alone time with yourself!" she
gave a nervous laugh as she began to exit the room. "I was the exact same way,
after all! I-I mean… with the uh… the alone time! N-Not the growing boy part!"
"Wait! Come back!" Standing, he quickly strode to the door to try and follow
after her.
"Have fun with your um… diddling! Don't go blind!"
And with that, Olivia took off down the hall like a frightened deer, her ears
brimming with red.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Great. Just great. Whatever he had in mind was now gone, his thoughts stuck on
the coming storm and how he failed to account for Olivia. Trudging back to the
storage room, he hastily grabbed his clothes and put them back on before coming
to a grinding halt.
Alone time? Olivia had only mentioned his actions.
His eyes darted around the room and he saw that Tharja was gone. But he could
sense something in the air - a panicked heartbeat surrounded by the lingering
aftereffects of a hastily cast spell. Tiptoeing back to the wall where he was
basking away only a minute ago, he reached forward and gently grasped Tharja's
flickering hand, her knuckles as white as snow. Her spell faded away, and she
wore the most worried look he had ever seen on her.
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