Well, hey there, guys and girls.

I don't write a lot of fanfiction these days... but ohmygod I'm obsessed with Fire Emblem and Awakening turned out to be even better then I'd expected.

ChromxMaleMC drives me crazy. So anyway, I got some inspiration and decided to write some drabbles!

I hope ya'll enjoy. This story will basically be a collection of ChromxMaleMC drabbles. My MC's name is Cat (because I always name my characters in games Cat, and it just doesn't feel right to use any other name), and his personality... well, I'll be developing it over the course of the series. This might develop a definite plot later (might also throw in some other pairings-I dunno yet), but for now, it's just whatever I feel inspired to write.

This first one is very rambly and doesn't really go anywhere. I was kind of just figuring out their characters. (The next one will have lots more plot and drama, I promise.)


Note: I don't own Fire Emblem. If I did, there would be like a million animes and Ephraim would be in like all them because he's like such a boss and stuff.

Chrom lets out a soft sigh as he swings down from his horse, brow drawn together into a dark line; an expression that can easily be read as worry. It's not a look he often lets others catch on his face. He's the leader, after all, the one in charge, so of course he won't let his men catch him looking so concerned about something, because then they'll worry as well—those of them who don't already—and he can't have that, not under his watch. No, he needs his soldiers relaxed so that they can react at a moment's notice; calm so that they can stick together, rather than scatter during a fight. So it's only now, as he quietly dismounts his horse in the dead of night, that he allows himself to look worried.

And worried is something he has every reason to be. Really, how can he not worry, when there's a band of risen twice the size of their army lurking a mere ten miles north? Just over the next ridge, really… Or, they will be, at the rate they're moving. By the time morning rolls around…

I have to mobilize the men… Calmly, collectedly; Chrom will put on that confident front he wears so well, because there's not much else he can do, at this point. They have to advance northwards, and if that means they have to take out that band of risen, then take out that band of risen they will. It'll be risky, no question there, but… Chrom swallows and absently strokes his mare's nose as he leads her towards the stables.

"Where, exactly, have you been?"

He's stopped by a voice, soft, but demanding, coming from the shadows over to his left. Chrom pauses, eyes widening a bit, and peers into the darkness cast by a nearby tent. That voice… He winces a bit, but quickly scrubs the worried look from his face. "Cat," he greets, smiling faintly, and though it's partially forced, he can't deny the strange, genuine, happy feeling that comes over him, just hearing the other's voice. Even if, from the sound of it, he's not too happy.

The tactician is silent for a moment, unmoving, as if waiting for an answer. Chrom offers none, though, so after a moment of stillness, the raven sighs and steps forward into the light of a nearby torch. He has his arms crossed over his chest, his weight settled on one leg—his right; it's a stance Chrom knows well, and he braces himself for a lecture as his mare paws at the ground. "Before you say anything…" The lord holds up a hand to silence the other before he can begin, and then gestures down at his body, vaguely. "… You should note the fact that I'm perfectly fine." As usual. Well, aside from the still-healing gash on his right arm that he hadn't wanted to bother the healers with, and the blackish bruise coloring his collar bone from where he'd taken the blunt end of an axe in battle… But really, those injuries are superficial…

Cat, of course, is having none of it. His scowl deepens a bit, dark eyes narrowing with a mixture of irritation and worry. "That's not the point, Chrom," he mutters, "The point is that you could have been injured. What were you thinking, riding off alone at night without anyone to watch your back?"

Chrom rolls his eyes, only the slightest bit. "I was thinking," he says, in a quiet voice, "That it would be good to know what lies in wait on the road ahead of us."

Cat grits his teeth. "That's what we have scouts for. I was going to send Inigo and Gaius out first thing in the morning, when there was actually enough light to see." And here, he looks more than a little frustrated, exhaling through his nose and looking off, to the side. "You know I take care of these things; there's no need for you to go off on these midnight patrols…"

The way Cat's voice falls a bit makes Chrom frown, deeply, and glare at the other with furrowed brows. "This isn't a question of my faith in your abilities, Cat," he says, because no, of course he doesn't think something like that… Cat's led them this far, after all, and aside from… aside from Emm, they haven't lost a single soul yet, so Chrom knows, he knows, he just…

The lord looks away, exhaling, a bit frustratedly. "I just… wanted to do something. We were all tired after that last battle, but I had a bad feeling. I didn't want to worry you with it, though, so I just decided to check it out myself. A leader has to act on his instincts now and then, right?" He looks at the tactician again, as if searching for some sort of confirmation. He hadn't been wrong to go. Quite the opposite, actually; now they knew what they'd have to face the next day. Risen… Another battle…

Cat seems dissatisfied with Chrom's stumbling answer. He's silent for a moment longer, but then just sighs, heavily, and this time, it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Fine," he says, "Fine. Whatever. It doesn't matter; I'm just glad you're back safe." And he is; he really is glad that Chrom is safe, and it goes beyond the fact that the other is their leader, the one who holds them all together… Beyond that, he's… Cat swallows, gaze softening just the slightest bit as he gazes at the other. He unfolds his arms and lets them hang at his sides, heavy, fingers curled loosely though they itch to do something, anything…

Chrom is tired; Cat can see it in his stance, the way the hollows beneath the lord's blue eyes are dark with shadows that aren't cast by the flickering torch. In addition, there's the ghost of a line creasing the lord's forehead; his worried look from moments before hadn't gone unnoticed. The tactician doubts that he looks much better, himself, but that doesn't matter; he hates seeing Chrom like this, exhausted, and used, and trying so hard to put up a confident front. He shouldn't have to… No, that's what Cat is there for; he just wants to take some of that worry away, if only a bit, even if it means taking it upon himself.

They're both desperate not to break and desperate to hold the other together, and it must be laughable, really, how Cat always scolds Chrom for being too reckless while he himself hardly watches his health.

For a while longer, the silence stretches between them, and then Cat moves forward and gently takes the reins from Chrom's hand. "Go on to bed," he says, avoiding the lord's gaze, which he's sure is disapproving, "I'll get her squared away, so just go to sleep, already. We can't have our fearless leader falling asleep on his feet, after all." And here, there is perhaps the faintest ghost of a smile, in his voice, if nothing else.

Chrom does, indeed, frown, disapprovingly, but gives in with a small nod, because he knows that arguing with Cat can be likened to arguing with a brick wall. The slight, raven-haired boy was always right, after all. As he makes his way back to his tent, though, he realizes, a bit belatedly, that the tactician had no doubt stayed up to wait for his return, so really, shouldn't he be just as tired? And is Cat's sleep not just as important as his own? Chrom pauses, glaring back into the darkness that he'd left the other in, and then, after a long moment, he quietly makes his way back to the stables.

Cat is just exiting the large, canvas tent when he arrives. At first, he doesn't notice the other, and Chrom feels an odd sense of triumph, because now he's the one seeing Cat with a worried face and not the other way around. Though he thinks the other's expression is more exhausted than anything else… Chrom gets a hollow feeling in his stomach when he sees the tactician stumble a bit. He moves forwards without thinking, darting out of the shadows to steady the other, one hand wrapping securely around Cat's upper arm.

The tactician freezes and gives him a startled look, to which Chrom just furrows his brow a bit. "And you were telling me not to fall asleep on my feet…" he scolds, lightly, but then pauses, blinking at the odd look the other is giving him.

Cat has regained his balance, but is highly aware of how Chrom's hand is still warm around his arm. He swallows and averts his eyes, ears burning just a bit; at the scolding, of course. "I'm heading to my tent right now…" he says, voice trailing off lamely, insecurely. It's odd, because Chrom has suddenly forgotten what he came back for in the first place.

He swallows as well and releases the other. "Ah… Right." He takes an awkward step back. Right… "I'll just… be on my way, then… Get some sleep, and I will, as well…"

But when he gets back to his tent, Chrom finds that he's suddenly wide awake.

Yeah, I know like nothing happened, and it's really portentous and vague... I'm just going to post these in the order I write them in; the next one will be better, I promise you. In the meantime, uh...

Thanks for reading! Please R & R. It makes me write more. Also, if you have any interesting prompts, send them my way and I'd be happy to take a stab at them.