#jeorg

My fixations seem to change like a light switch, so if you’re here for one thing, you’ll have to bear through the other. 

Chrom sneezed at the enemy troubadour and they exploded.

Not literally but they did break a few ribs on their way down to the ground. The rest of their team was faring no better.

Farther down river, Chrom’s three other allies were getting rid of the last of the hapless foes.

“Milady, Hai-knocka,” Narcian ran his garishly gloved hand through his hair, his voice making all of the blood in the Princess’ head drain down to her knees. “As the power behind the group, I’ve come to realize that you must be growing bored of watching me mow down the vermin.”

Next to Hinoka, Jeorg picked off two lancers with his bow and arrows, leaving a young boy with a pot on his head shivering all alone.

“I’ll let you handle the brat,” Narcian chuckled, tossing his bangs back. “Don’t hesitate to ask for help, your highness. My dashing beauty and strength—“He made a sweeping bow. “–is all yours.”

Hinoka couldn’t believe it. The gaudy wyvern rider was making her hate the color red. As for Jeorge, he was beginning to feel sorry for the poor nobility that Narcian served. Unfortunately, both knew that they had to clench their teeth and cooperate with this mess of a man for the greater good.

Narcian had his wyvern land on the bridge, trapping the little pot-head boy between him and dense forest. The Hoshidan Princess shared a forced stoic look with Jeorge before having her Pegasus fly across the river, hearing Chrom and the Summoner return as she did.

“Donnel?” Chrom spotted one of his shepherds trying his best to hide behind his thin-as-paper lance. “Did the Emblians get you too?”

Distracted, Hinoka glanced over her shoulder at Chrom and seeing his chance, Donnel yelled and jumped at her. His brave lance struck twice, the second thrust bolstered by Draconic Aura. Hinoka was winded and in the water before anyone had time to blink.

And Narcian started screaming before anyone had time to react.

“No!” Chrom jumped to the bridge, grabbing the wyvern’s tail and pinning it to the ground as it was about to lift off. “Stay! You! Stay!” The Prince glanced at the Summoner for help but they were busy fishing Hinoka out of the river.

“Did you see that?” Narcian’s words were barely understandable with how loud he was shrieking. He was so shrill that Jeorg was sure his eyes were going to shatter from the noise. “He killed her! That hog farmer killed her!”

“Hey, I may not be a hog farmer but darn tootin’, don’t be usin’em as an insult.” Donnel said, struck by an arrow to the pot helmet in the next second. His ears rang and the farm boy panicked, stabbing erratically at Narcian.

“Why did you aim for his head?” Chrom chastised Jeorge as Narcian’s Wyvern leaned out of the way, allowing the lance to repeatedly strike their rider directly in his stomach.

The tip bounced off of its target like Donnel had just tried to kill a wet rock.

“Mother of tarnation!” Donnel resorted to batting at Narcian and for all it was doing to the trash pile, the weapon might as well have been a wet noodle. “What are you?”

“Too beautiful to die!” Narcian needlessly shielded himself, stomping on his Wyvern for them to move.

Seeing what happened to Hinoka, they were in huge trouble. If Narcian, the only one of the three who wouldn’t keel over from a lance nick, escaped, Donnel was going to kill everyone on the other side of the river.

Chrom had two plans, both of which needed Narcian to stay put.

He hopped on to Narcian’s Wyvern, grabbing the back of the rider’s collar and crouched behind him, effectively using the General as a loud meat shield.

“Unhand me, you dunce! You’re getting your sweat all over me.” Narcian shouted, arms flailing wildly to reach Chrom. The wyvern general forgot all about the deadly edge of Donnel’s lance jabbing at his stomach for that. “Fly, you damn lizard, fly!” Narcian stomped on his wyvern harder.

“I’ll give you some belly rubs later if you don’t,” Chrom offered gently. Of course, the wyvern was happy to curl up and disobey their life-long handler. “Donnel? It’s me, Chrom!”

“Prince Chrom, I don’t understand what’s happenin’ exactly but those fine Emblians told me you were in some deep trouble!” Donnel was sweating buckets trying to gouge through Narcian with all of his might, kind of tickling him and that succeeded in getting Narcian to kick him in the chin. “ACCKKK, MA TAnGe!”

“Sorry, this is the best I can do,” Chrom struggled to hold Narcian still. “The last time Narcian was this upset, it took three hours of the Summoner touching his face to calm him down,” The Prince grunted as Narcian knocked his head back and it slammed against Chrom eye. “Gods! Ughh…just—Look! Let’s talk! The Kingdom of Askr is rescuing us and many more worlds. They’re here to help.”

“Your highness, who told you that?”

“Donnel, you must have seen them around,” Chrom sighed, relieved that Donnel had stopped attacking. Not that Narcian was going to stop thrashing or insinuating that Chrom was ‘too poor to afford a second sleeve.’ “A Prince and a Princess came to our aid. The Prince has blue hair, his younger sister is a blond. Their tactician came to our aid too. They’re with us here actually. Over there, the one with the hood.”

Donnel took one glance at the Summoner in the middle of pulling Hinoka up on the grass and promptly went back to stabbing at Narcian.

“Clones!” Donnel exclaimed. “They’re using clones to trick you!”

“Huh,” Chrom paused. “Now that you mentioned it—OW!” Donnel’s lance had slipped under Narcian’s arm and cut him. “Hhsss oh, that right in the nail bed.” He hissed in pain.

Obviously, the first plan was dead in the water.

“Alright, I’ll listen to your reasoning, Donnel.” Chrom said, regaining Donnel’s attention. He inched closer to the Shepherd, still holding Narcian between them.

“You believe me, don’t ya, Prince Chrom?” Donnel came closer too.

“Of course I do, let’s all take a breather, we’ll calm down and—ANYTHING CAN CHANGE!”

The Falchion jabbed at Donnel from over Narcian’s shoulder, missing by an inch when Donnel staggered back.

“Swords! The strategy was to keep me away from swords!” Somehow Narcian’s vocal cords hadn’t snapped and he hit impossibly high notes with that yelp. “That is a sword!”

“I know. Shut up,” Chrom grimaced, trying to inch closer to Donnel again. “Apologies, Donnel!” He said in chipper tone. “I got a little surprised back there. Let’s actually talk.”

“Fool me once, shame on you! I might not know that second part to that ol sayin’ but darn tootin, it ain’t happening twice!” Donnel swung his lance, slapping the side of Narcian’s face, sending his spittle through the air.

“Ah! Not the face!” Narcian groaned. “The gods put it on the earth to be admired, not scarred!”

“Stop moving. You’re fine!” Chrom ducked away from the lance. He had dropped to a squat, with Narcian draped over him like a table cloth. “I heard people like scars anyways.”

Narcian coughed something along the lines of “But I hate pain.” Only, it was inaudible thanks to Chrom pulling his collar so tight that he had gone as blue as the Prince’s hair.

Without any warning, Chrom leaped to strike at Donnel. Narcian’s legs flew up with the motion, giving Donnel a clear opening he didn’t know was coming.

The Shepherd’s lance slipped between Narcian’s legs and nailed Chrom, crushing his Nagas so hard that Lucina and Morgan flickered in and out of existence.

Chrom froze, midair, and fell on his knees. His mouth was open in a dry, silent scream.

“Finally!” Narcian shook Chrom off and slipped, doing a backwards summersault off of his wyvern. Fate was kind enough to give a final grace to this embarrassing tragedy by making sure the back of Narcian’s skull hit the bridge as he fell into the water.

“Yahoo!” Donnel raised his lance in victory, earning an arrow between his ribs. The realization hit after Donnel blinked twice, lowered his arms, and flicked the arrow stuck in his chest as the contract binding him faded. “Aw, I guess them Askrs were nice after all.” He collapsed, meaning to sleep off the hole in his lungs.

By the wyvern’s swishing tail, Jeorge pretended he had been waiting for an opportunity all along. That whole farce hadn’t mesmerized him with its sheer stupidity, not at all.

Once the Summoner made it to Jeorg’s side some time later along with a revived Hinoka, Donnel slowly recovered. Meanwhile, Chrom knelt there, eyes to the sky, jaw wide open, killed in action.

“So it all went well?” The Summoner asked, noticing how quiet it had gotten. A bush of freshwater kelp was flung at Jeorge and caught in his hair, meaning that Narcian had burst out of the river just then. The Wyvern General, in a crazy turn of events, stayed quiet and glared daggers at all of them.

A short beat of silence swept over the team, amounting to a second for a clock but was a humiliating hour for all of them.

Clearing her throat, Hinoka simply said “It’s done.”

“What?” Narcian sputtered. “You sniveling cowards almost killed me and say nothing?” He dragged himself to his feet. “I’m more important than all of you combined and I was practically dead!” Narcian said despite nearly everyone except him being of noble blood. “All of you dogs should be drying me with your tongues!” Though glowing red with anger, there wasn’t a scratch on him that wasn’t his own fault. Jeorge, rolling his eyes into the next dimension, was still nice enough to approach him and Narcian harshly shoved him off. “I don’t need your help.” He spat.

The Summoner’s shoulders sank, having gone to Narcian’s side as well. “Ok, then.” They began to walk off with Hinoka.

Suddenly, Narcian was flat on the ground, moaning pitifully.

“P-please…” He faked a stutter, reaching out to the non-present Summoner. “A hand?”

Now, Jeorge never felt the need to shoot someone while they were down but Narcian was so pathetic, he had to. Narcian managed to see him aim in the peripheral of his vision.

“No no no, that’s one of my best parts! Not the aAAAAAAAAA—“The arrow flew and Jeorge didn’t bother to make sure it landed as he stepped over Narcian to join the other two.

Going unnoticed, Donnel had gone to check on the silent as stone Chrom.