Chrom's brilliant idea - Request for /feg/

With a final, gentle tug of her needle, Tharja sewed the last thread of the little cloak into place. Giggling excitedly to herself, she picked up the voodoo doll she had spend the past month making and dressed it in the cloak. A perfect fit. The purple Plegian symbols on the arms were not quite the right shade, but she didn't mind. She ran her thumb over the doll's white hair; many a night she spent sneaking into his room and carefully cutting off little snippets of his hair. But never too much. He could never know.

She placed the doll on the shrine in her room and sat on her bedroll, staring intently at it. Almost instinctively her hands began to slide down towards her crotch and unfastened the metallic belt she wore to cover herself, letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers inched towards her aching slit, teasing the outsides as she imagined he would. She closed her eyes, and licked her lips...

A loud knock at her door startled her, waking her from her sultry dreaming, and she quickly set about refastening her belt.

"O-one minute," she called as she hid the doll away. She opened the door.

"Tharja."

"C-Chrom...?"

"We need to talk," his tone was serious, and he wore a grave look on his face. "Privately." He gestured to her room. "I should probably come inside." Without waiting for her reaction he closed the door and strode in.

"What do you want?" she asked indignantly.

"It's about Robin," Chrom began, "he-"

Upon hearing his name Tharja's demeanor changed, "Is something wrong?"

Chrom frowned at her, "Yes Tharja, something is wrong. And I think you know about it."

"What do you mean? I-I looked after him when he was sick..."

"I wouldn't call what you did 'looking after' him, Tharja!" Chrom snapped. She looked at him, trying her best to fake confusion. "Henry told me all about the genital inversion curse you used," he continued, almost spitting out the words.

Tharja's face turned a paler shade than usual.

"He can't walk straight, Tharja! My tactician can't walk straight! Gods! Do you know how bad this is? How am I supposed to fight a war like this?"

Tharja had seen Chrom angry before, but only during battle, where he would focus his anger against his enemies. Now it was directed at her. She hunched back in response, trying to hide her face behind her hair.

"Your obsession with him is becoming problematic. He told me it wasn't a problem, but I should have seen it earlier."

"Don't call it an 'obsession'," she replied coldly. "I lo-"

"What other word should I use?" Chrom shouted back, striding over to the shrine she had built at the foot of her bed. It was adorned with candles and crudely drawn pictures of Robin. He looked down at it and sighed. "This has to stop."

"Chrom, please..."

He turned back to her, staring intently into her eyes. She had never looked at him this closely before, and found herself slightly lost in his eyes. He smiled - the same reassuring smile he gave to his men, the same smile he gave to his wife, the same smile he gave to Robin...

"I know how we can fix the problem," he said, still smiling. Tharja felt his hands slide down her hips and unbuckle the belt around her waist. It his the floor with a dull clang, and she gasped in embarrassment.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Gregor gave me the idea," Chrom explained as he pulled his shirt off, "he said it's what he would do in this situation."

"C-Chrom I-" she was cut off as she tried to pull the belt back up. Chrom lifted her off her feet and placed her down on her bedroll, before turning to pull his trousers off. "Chrom," she continued, still shocked, "you're not the one I love!"

Chrom stood with his back to her, clad only in his cape. With a swift motion he pulled it off and turned around, giving Tharja a full view of his Exalted Falchion.

"Anything can change!"

"W-what?"

Chrom leaped into her bed and pinned her down, leaning in to kiss her. She was hesitant at first, but the look in his eyes drew her in. Although she would never admit it, she had kept one of Frederick's posters before Chrom had been able to get rid of them all. Reluctantly, she returned his advance. His tongue began a contested battle with hers, pushing into her mouth. He tasted slightly of oranges.

Chrom pushed himself off after a few minutes of kissing, and ran his hands down her shoulders to her chest. She blushed as he unfastened her bra and tossed it across the room, leaving her milk white breasts to pour out of her bodysuit. He looked down at the silky black fabric stretched across her hips and legs and ran his hands along it, feeling the texture against her flesh. his fingers tugged at the fabric near her crotch, tearing it enough to gain access to his Falcion's sheath.

"I will not fail," he whispered to himself, before plunging in. Tharja let out a gasp of pain as he pushed forward, burying his sword all the way up to the hilt. Slowly he withdrew and readied himself for the next thrust. Tharja felt his hands crawl over to hers and take hold of them, squeezing them tightly.

He thrust in again, pushing the walls of her sheath further apart and sending waves of pleasure all through her. Gradually, he quickened his pace, thrusting his Falcion with all the strength he could muster. Tharja was in shock. All the time she had spent dreaming of Robin - she had never imagined anyone else could compare. She wrapped her legs around Chrom's waist and bucked her hips, enjoying each and every thrust of his sword. She started to mutter to herself and moan, oblivious to the world around her. Her mind was focused entirely on Chrom.

Chrom could feel himself reaching the end, and he held onto her hips tightly as he suppressed the urge to let loose. Tharja too was nearing her end. She had wrapped her arms around him, her fingernails digging into his back. Gone was her earlier inhibition: her eyes were closed and her mouth wide open; drool trickled down her chin. Chrom could tell she would not last much longer.

"Your end has come!"

Tharja rocked her head back as an orgasm shuddered through her, letting out a cry of pleasure. Satisfied that his plan was complete, Chrom let loose his load into the sheath and let out a gasp of relief. He pulled his sword out of her sheath and watched as his seed spilled out, soaking the fabric of Tharja's bodysuit.

He slumped down next to her, exhausted. "How was that?"

Tharja didn't answer.

"Tharja...?"

She held the small Robin doll in her hands, looking intently at it. Then she threw it down and turned back to Chrom. She smiled, hiding her face behind her pillow, and pulled the covers over the two of them. She slid her hands and legs slid over his body and cuddled into him, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep...