Sugarplum Moppets and a Fat Sneaky Burglar
The Microfic/Drabble Meme!
Requested By: Jayden und Verwelkt (FFN)
Prompt: "Christmas Theme; Potatoes"
Pairing/Characters: Wallace, Vaida
Fandom: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken
It was a beautiful night.
That's what the others would say, anyway.
But they were wrong.
Dreadfully, absolutely, completely wrong.
They were all gathered around the fire, their faces filled with eager moppet-like joy as they all looked at one person.
Or rather, thing.
All she could see sitting there was an overgrown, exceptionally shiny teapot. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed from where she stood at the back of the group, preferably out of sight.
They were so into the story about the big fat jolly bastard that the clanking teapot was spewing, with his massive sleigh of toys pulled by a team of wyvern, that she wanted to fork her own eye out. Unfortunately, Umbriel had swallowed her fork, and so she was stuck where she was.
It wasn't as if she could get away from that voice even if she fell asleep.
"Gwa ha ha ha ha! Yes, little Nino, that's right! All of the other wyvern made fun of little Rudolph, because the end of his snout was so red!"
She looked back at her wyvern. The large creature rolled its eyes and snorted indignantly.
"They wouldn't even let him play with them?" Nils asked. Maybe the brat felt as if he could understand. Hah.
"Yes," the big man answered, spreading his arms out to exaggerate every movement, every word. "They played their wyvern games, and never invited him!"
"Bloody hell," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Wyvern games. What the hell is a wyvern game?"
"Yes, you there in the back!"
…Ugh. No. This had to be some kind of nightmare. It was worse than a nightmare.
Death would be far more pleasant.
"What do you want, you bald kettle?"
"You had a question?" He guffawed lightly and stared at her. He really looked stupid sitting there by the fire without even his armor on. Even those two loyal dog-like knights that were standing just behind the savage girl had their armor on.
Always be prepared, she had been taught. And she was. Well, she usually was. She just didn't know how to counterattack idiots.
She was working on that, though.
"I said nothing," she said curtly, glaring daggers of death and destruction at him. He merely gave a loud laugh and resumed his story.
"And every year, children leave slices of potatoes out for Santa's wyvern. After all, we all know that wyvern love potatoes! GWA HA HA!"
She blinked and turned around. "Umbriel," she hissed. "Do you like potatoes?" The giant dragon-like reptile snorted and opened his mouth wide. "Traitor," she muttered.
"And then!" he shouted, getting up out of his chair, nearly spilling his potato soup all over himself, "Santa jumps down into your chimney—" Here, he jumped, and fell back down onto his feet with a resounding clang.
"And he catches on fire and burns to a crisp, his ashes and bones scattered all over your home for you when you wake up in the morning," she finished for him, quietly and under her breath even though she was sorely tempted to say it loudly and in the most bitter voice she could muster.
Unfortunately, that little punk Nino was staring with wide, fascinated eyes at the clanking teapot, and she felt the tiniest, ittiest little sprinkle of guilt. Just a little.
The look on that idiot that hung around her, though… The man nobody trusted—and damn, who the hell in their right mind would trust him?—sat there with boredom etched on his face… No, wait… was that a glimmer of excitement?
Oh, dear Elimine, it had better not be. She needed to find a spear and stab herself through the gut with it.
Bleeding profusely would be better than enduring this agony.
"And he leaves presents for all the little boys and girls!"
"Except the really poor ones, you stupid glob of worm bait!" she shouted, unable to contain herself. "Stop filling everybody's mind with such idiocy!"
Forty-some-odd idiots looked at her, and she almost said never mind, but she held her tongue and glared at all of them at once. Well, she glared at the stupid ringleader, that obviously rusty-brained hunk of scrap metal. The one that she had proved herself better as, even if the pansy pushover Eliwood refused to acknowledge it.
"Now, now," Wallace said, clapping his hands together. She swore it almost sounded like he was smacking two tree trunks against one another. "Santa only brings gifts for those that go to sleep early, so everyone, off to bed!"
After most of the fools had run straight to their tents to dream of sugarplum moppets and a fat sneaky burglar who leaves gifts, she found Wallace ambling up to her.
She scowled, "What do you want, Worm Bait?"
"Have you been a good girl this year, Viper?" He smirked.
She contemplated strangling him. "What concern is it of yours?"
"You know, Santa won't bring you anything if you're not a good girl. GWA HA HA!" When she stared blankly at him, he shrugged slightly and tossed a potato at her wyvern. Umbriel greedily swallowed it as Vaida wondered if she would be able to win against Wallace in a fist fight.
How dare he try to win her wyvern over to his way of thinking!
Wait, what did it even matter, anyway? UGH!
Finally, she spoke, "Why do you lie to them?" Her voice was bitter, and perhaps slightly angry, but it wasn't as harsh as it might normally have been, and she cursed herself for it.
"About Santa?" He grinned. "Gwa ha ha, you're far too disbelieving! Don't you think that out there somewhere is a big fat jolly man who breaks into your house and leaves you gifts?"
"I know better," she said darkly, glaring at him. "Only an idiot would believe otherwise."
"Believe what you will," he said, and just then, she noticed a huge sack at his feet. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what was in it. He dug inside and handed her a few potatoes. "For your Umbriel," he told her frankly, and dug some more.
She rolled her eyes and tossed them to her wyvern, who licked his lips afterward, wanting more. Of course. The greedy monster.
"And for you," he said, a grin on his face so big it probably could have split the heavens. It was a book, a rather nice book from what she could tell. "It might come in handy," he said, and hefted the bag on his shoulder. "Now I must leave, Viper," he told her evenly. "This fat jolly clanking teapot has work to do. GWA HA HA! Enjoy your gift from Santa Wallace!"
With that, he was gone.
She wondered if it would be possible to convince Umbriel to kill her. Either way, her curiosity got the best of her, and angrily, she stomped toward the fire so that she could read the title of the book the teapot had given her.
She almost—almost—threw it into the fire. If it wasn't such a nice book, she might very well have done just that.
The Manual of Knightly Prowess was scrawled across the top in gold lettering, with Wallace's name beneath it.
Stupid bloody buffoon, she decided, glaring at him as he snuck around the campsite, leaving a rather nice doll—now where the hell had he found that thing?—just inside Nino's tent. Well, he was a clanking, rusty-brained teapot, she thought. But maybe he wasn't a complete idiot. Only ninety-five percent one.
Lame 'fic is lame. But it was still fun to write. Excuse any out of character-ness. Vaida is so hard to write, but at the same time? So much fun. And we all need more Vaida 'fics! Yes? Yes!
And Wallace… Santa Wallace is from the Fire Emblem Dressing Room Roleplay. If you don't know, I totally play Wallace there, and he has big plans for everyone for "The Scouring Is Over" Day. Since Christmas wouldn't exist in that time period, they have to celebrate something else!
Anyway, feedback is more than appreciated, and thank you very much for reading!