Fire Emblem Oneshots

Fjorm x Reader || The Real You

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Once Surtr, the Kingdom of Muspell's ruler, declared war, many things changed. At first, the ideals and ambitions of the king seemed mad. His goal to conquer the world? Outrageous. No one could complete such a ridiculous feat.

Then, a mere nine months after he began his conquest, two kingdoms were already destroyed near beyond repair. When at first we were all incredulous, we were all now scrambling to defend anything we could. Thankfully, Askr had yet to be scorched by the flames of Muspell, but Nifl, the Kingdom of Ice, didn't fare nearly as well.

Eventually, once we were allied with them, the royalty of Nifl took shelter under the Order of Heroes' protection. The first was Fjorm. At a glance, she was the perfect, prim, soft-spoken princess.

She had glittering azure eyes and chin-length, golden blonde hair. Without fail, Fjorm held herself in the proper, noble way — a contrast between constantly enthusiastic Princess Sharena and stubbornly solemn Prince Alfonse.

Even as more and more chaos ensued, her gentle smile remained unwavering. It was reassuring to many, but for some reason or another, it came off fake to me. No one could keep this up for long without self-destructing. And yet, even as more and more comrades fell in battle and our number of enemies only grew in size, she stood fast.

As the Summoner, it was my job to look over every one of the warriors I worked with, but I just couldn't figure out what was up with Fjorm.

Later, after I'd caught that fleeting look of being helplessly lost across her face more than once, I decided it was about time to speak with her about it. She may camouflage her pain with her pretty face and easy-assuring attitude, but as Surtr brought more havoc and sorrow to this world, I could tell it was getting harder and harder to keep it up.

"Hey, Fjorm. Do you have a second?" I asked, mirroring her smile with one of my own. We were resting in Askr's castle after a clash against Surtr after we failed to kill the king, and after Gunnthra — Fjorm's elder sister — had died as well.

She turned to face me, letting out one of her tinkling, bell-like laughs. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll always have time for a quick chat. What is the matter?"

"Do you mind if we... talked somewhere more private?" I glanced warily at the other Heroes milling about the many corridors in the palace.

She nods. "Sure, my room is just down the hall. Follow me." Most people would question it, especially the way I phrased the question could definitely be taken the wrong way, but once more, either her pride or insistent hopeful outlook got in the way of her suspicion. Or perhaps she merely trusted me that much.

By the time we had arrived in her room and shut the door behind us, we stood awkwardly across from each other, not quite sure what to say next.

I decided to speak first, albeit that I was hesitant to do so. "I... Um, I have a question for you, if you don't mind. Please answer honestly." Once she nodded, I continued. "Can you leave your fake smile behind? Just for a minute?"

She blinked, then giggled softly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." She daintily waved her slender hand to deny it.

"Are... are you sure? Fjorm, you don't have to lie to yourself, force joy, or hide who you actually are behind a mask." I frowned. It was highly unlikely she didn't realize what was happening, but at the same time, she seemed fervent in saying otherwise.

"Yes, I am quite certain, although I appreciate your concern, however misplaced. Alas, I am alright." Her heart-shaped lips pursed slightly, and I could tell her walls were crumbling, bit by bit, from my questions. As hard as Fjorm tried to look picturesque, all I wanted was a more authentic her.