One day Byleth got fucking drunk and had a fever dream and now has brain damage making him see the world differently.
There is always something fascinating and horrifying when you are stuck in a medieval fantasy. To see, how utter alien and normal, and to be looked like a stranger destroying the order. Here am I, wanting to get out there. (SI)
Taking this from my DeviantArt Account, this is the whole adventure of FEA, with some added benefits and some small throwbacks to past games and twists in this story.
Three riders cross the Plegian border to deliver a letter to Tharja, the scariest woman they know, sharing what should otherwise be joyous news. The contents of that letter: an invitation to Robin's wedding. For Frederick, Sully, and Stahl, a tense conversation and the threats of eternal hexes await as they must try to convince Tharja not only to accept the wedding, but to attend.
Chrom is complimenting the taste of her roasted chicken. Tharja thinks he's complimenting the taste of something else. She certainly takes it in stride, though. TharjaxChrom, with Robin unfortunately stuck in jail so that he's unable to interfere with their wholesome dinner.
It's been a long time since Tharja last had a man who could keep up with her... Figures it would be on Halloweeen that she finds another, isn't it?
En tant que stratège en chef de l'armée ylisienne, Daraen travaille énormément. Et cela bien trop tard, bien plus qu'il ne le devrait. L'homme ne remarque pas que Tharja, la mage noire, l'observe dans l'ombre. S'il ne s'était pas épuisé à ce point, peut-être qu'il devinerait ce qu'elle mijote. OS comportant du m!DaraenxTharja, et mentionnant du m!DaraenxChrom.