A reflexive wince. Chrom has seen Sumia take many a tumble over the years he’s known her, but he knows that a fall from a pegasus is much worse than simply tripping over one’s own boots, and even now the scar looks nearly painful.

❛  It’s you, Sumia. ❜

THERE was a certain gracefulness about everything she did, at least when she wasn't on her FEET. Around her beloved mount especially, he noticed, Sumia was gentle. It was a trait he had found admirable, one he wished he didn't have to falsify behind sacred ivory cloth. He had never spoken to her before, which he had found rather odd. She was docile, though clumsy, and he wondered if it was immoral of him to pray on the behalf of his companions when he had yet to speak to each and every one of them. His position prior to joining the Shepherds required that he have knowledge of his own circle -- in isolated PIETY , he had little other choice. Though, with the unfortunate absence of his brothers and sisters, he was granted the freedom to speak to whom he wished.

IT was just after the events of another successful battle, and the company was setting up camp before sundown. He had sustained his own fair share of wounds, and he had suspected the flier had as well. It was his duty, as a servant of the Gods, to help everyone to the best of his ability.

    a job ; it’s honestly the last thing she needs, but she works it anyways -- skilled hands tap patiently against the counter as she stands with a smile. she’s found it’s a good way to stow her mind, keep her away from a home she’s come to fear. you meet strange && different people on the job ; some are enticing, who will try and flirt their way into her heart. some are angry, taking frustrations on people who don’t deserve it. and there are a select few who she truly finds herself interested in. a stumbling bimbo ; it’s quite cute.

“O-Oh, you would? Um, certainly Sumia, please have a seat.”

Upon his desk lay a torn piece of parchment, upon which a hastily scribbled message could be found:

Last Will and Testament of Robin [What even is his surname?]

KNOW ALL PERSONS BY THESE PRESENTS:That, I, Robin of the Holy Kingdom of Ylisse, being of sound and disposing mindand memory, and not acting under duress please, menace help, fraud or the undue influenceof any person whomsoever me!!!, do make, publish and declare this my Last Will andTestament. 

Article I.

I hereby declare that my family consists of: My future wife CynthiaMy daughter MorganAny unnamed/unborn children that I don’t fucking know about

Article II.

I hereby direct and order that all just debts for which theproper claims are filed against my estate, and the expenses of my murder investigation last illnessand funeral, be paid by my executor as soon after my murder death ispracticable, provided, however, that this direction shall not authorize anycreditors to require payment of any debt or obligation prior to its normalmaturity in due course.

Article III.

I direct that all estate expenses, inheritance, and othertaxes and interests or penalties thereon imposed by reason of my murder untimelydemise death, whether or not attributable to property passing under this Willand whether or not the same would otherwise be payable by my estate or by arecipient of any such property, to be paid and discharged by my personalrepresentative out of the residue of my estate with no right of reimbursementfor the Recipients named in the residuary clause of the Will.

Article IV.I give, devise and bequeath unto:

My Daughter Morgan:

My Levin Sword

Her choice of my Personal Effects

My Personal collection of texts on Tactics and Magic

All land and rents associated with XXXXX

My Wife Cynthia:

All lands and rents associated with XXXXX, XXXXX, XXXXXX, and XXXXXX.

Everythingelse not listed above. 

71. One of our muses is pregnant, but it’s not a good thing.

“Hey, mother.” Cynthia said quietly. She rubbed her arm awkwardly as she stood in the entrance to the stables, staring away from Sumia as she tried to find the words to say it. 

Gods, she was going to be so disappointed in her. She wasn’t even engaged to Robin yet - and she’d just reassured her that they were being careful. Gods, they had been, but all it had taken from Cynthia was one stupid mistake in a moment of passion to have potentially ruined her life. All she could hope for was that by approaching her parents about it first she’d be able to work out something to do before talking with Robin about it. 

jurantbourne replied to your post:“I…should probably try and dispute this, but...

“Cynthia, is there something you’d like to tell me ?”

“...”