a prince and his knight (ike/marth)

That Fateful Day

Ike let out a relieved sigh. Thank God that was over; it was so painfully awkward. But Mist didn't seem to notice the tense atmosphere at all. She turned to Ike, still beaming. "See? That wasn't so bad! You need to stop worrying so much."

Ike immediately became annoyed at this comment. "Mist," He seethed, glaring down at her. "I'm trying to keep you safe. I thought you'd know better than to carelessly approach a noble— and not any noble either, the PRINCE."

Mist's excited expression quickly turned into one of hurt, and Ike automatically felt a twinge of guilt. At times like this, he would suddenly become self-aware of how harsh his words sounded. He hated that he could easily ruin Mist's mood with a simple change of tone.

Mist looked away from Ike in shame. "I'm sorry," Mist mumbled quietly. "I guess I'm just really dumb. I won't do it again."

Ike sighed, facepalming softly. "It's fine. Just... let's go home." With that, Ike and Mist quickly wrapped up their shopping trip and began their journey home.

___

As Marth continued down the busy streets, he suddenly felt a sharp nudge at his shoulder. The prince winced for a split second, before stopping and turning his attention to the soldier next to him. "What is it?" Marth asked.

The guard next to him simply gave him a stern, unmoving expression before answering. "That kid back there— and the child. Don't they look suspicious to you?" He questioned, his voice low.

Marth immediately raised an eyebrow, processing what the man just said. Yeah, he felt a weird sense of deja vu when he saw the dark-haired teenager, but he didn't question it much further.
"No... They're just citizens..?" Marth trailed off.

"The older boy looked all roughed up, didn't he? Looked suspicious to me." The guard interjected. Marth was even more confused now. He wasn't even paying attention to those details. A feeling of frustration was creeping up onto the prince.
"And? What about it?" Marth said sharply. "Why should it be my business?" The guard seemed completely unfazed by Marth's change of tone. "Mercenaries, my prince. They could be mercenaries." The man replied.

If it wasn't for Marth's ability to keep his emotions under strict control, he probably would have rolled his eyes at this comment. Marth cleared his throat, mentally reminding himself to keep calm. "I think.. that's a bit of a reach. Just because they're 'roughed up' doesn't mean anything. Maybe they have a difficult life, we can't judge them so prematurely-"

Before Marth could even finish his sentence, the guard interrupted him. "Yes, exactly. A more difficult life, meaning it's more difficult for them to get decent jobs. Meaning they would need to resort to something illegal to earn money, like mercenary work." The man was speaking so fast that the poor prince needed a second to process the amalgamation of words that just spilled out his mouth.

Marth huffed, definitely getting annoyed by this guard's persistence. What was with him, anyway? Why was this grown man so wrapped up about some teenagers he saw in the street? "Again," Marth replied, loudly than normal. "We can't just go around accusing innocent citizens of crimes when we don't even know them. Don't you think that's an abuse of our power?"

The guard finally became silent. Yet, his expression was still somewhat unreadable and Marth couldn't tell if what he said even convinced this man. Finally, the soldier gave up. "Fine." He muttered. Marth was half-expecting an apology of some sort, but when the prince received no further response, Marth decided to end the conversation there. There was no point in arguing anymore; plus, he was the one in higher power in this situation, giving him the advantage.