Work Text:
“I swear to all the gods Rickard, if the reason Marth has called us to his tent is because you’ve been swiping things again I’m going to toss you out of camp myself.”
“How was I supposed to know that coinpurse belonged to Vyland?”
“Uh, because it had Vyland’s name embroidered on it?”
The two resident thieves of the Archaean League shuffled around nervously in front of the prince’s tent. There was nothing that made it particularly unique or imposing in comparison to the other tents littering the clearing where they’ve made camp but that didn’t stop the two of them from treating it like an enemy fortress.
When stern Jeigan stomped over to them, silver lance in hand and voice as serious as a commander debriefing a suicide mission, telling them that Prince Marth had requested them at his tent, they began to fear the worst. Thieves weren’t exactly beloved even after they defected to Marth’s army. If one of the others pointed the finger at them for a missing object, there was very little they could do to argue.
“I mean, might as well rip the bandage off now?” Rickard gave a sheepish grin as Julian scoffed and Jeigan opened the tent flaps. There Marth was, fiddling with the hilt of his sword. He didn’t seem like he was going to accuse them of anything, but looks could be deriving.
“Listen, Marth, your royal highness, sir, boss, I can’t leave Lena. You believe in love, right? Well, I love her more than anything in this world. I don’t care if it means you have to make me prove my innocence-“
Rickard interrupted his appeal with a terrified shriek of, “Please don’t kill us!”
Before Julian could stomp on his foot as hard as he possibly could, Marth sputtered out a response. “What- kill you? No! I would never- I value the lives of all of my soldiers- Jeigan, did you tell them that?”
“No, sire. I simply wanted them to understand how serious this request is.”
“Gods, I really should have sent Cain or Able instead… what did you think I wanted you for?”
“Uh.” Julian answered in lieu of saying to kill us . “Not important. What did you want us for?”
“Well, according to Princess Nyna the Fire Emblem also possesses the ability to unlock chests, although I’m not quite sure if it was more of a symbolic statement or a literal one. Therefore, I would like it if you could look over it and see if it has any hidden mechanisms that allow for that.” The aforementioned Fire Emblem was surprisingly small for something so important, clenched in one of Marth’s hand.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course!” Not only was Julian not going to die, he was getting to touch an artifact that was basically the holy grail to any thief! Wait. “This thing isn’t going to smite us, right?”
“I don’t think so. If the Fire Emblem possessed any smiting qualities then Nyna wouldn’t have had to guard it so closely in the first place. Still, if you don’t wish to touch it, I won’t force you.”
“No, no. He’ll do it!” Rickard was practically bouncing in place, peering at the Emblem with wide eyes. Jeigan gave a firm cough, causing him to slink back.
Julian hesitantly took the Fire Emblem from Marth’s outstretched hand, a brief jolt of electricity shocking him as he did. The artifact practically hummed with power, mysterious gold twinkling back at him. He was starting to get why so many people were fighting for this thing. As if reading his thoughts, the Emblem gave another shock. Right. He slid his hands around, feeling for any hidden compartments. He picked at engravings, tapped the gems in various orders, even handed it off to Rickard who after getting shocked as well fiddled at it with lockpicks.
After ten minutes and lots of mumbled curses, Rickard gave it back to Marth. Curiously enough, there was no shock that time. “Maybe it doesn’t have a secret tool. It’s magic, right? Maybe you just hold it up to the lock?”
“Oh sure, if we just ask it politely it’ll pop open the chest like an oyster.” Julian scoffed, but he was curious. Wasn’t like there was anything to lose by trying!
Jeigan used the blunt end of his lance to push an empty chest in front of them. “Use this, sire.”
“Um… please open?” Marth held the Fire Emblem out in the same manner one would offer a bit of fish to a mangy alleycat.
“No, no! You’ve probably got to do it all big and fancy, something like, as wielder of the Fire Emblem and Prince of Altea, I command this measly chest to open!” Rickard had pitched his voice up in a woefully inaccurate imitation of Marth, causing a wince from everyone inside.
“Gods, Rickard. The point is to figure out how to open a chest, not destroy everyone’s hearing.” Nevertheless, they tried it. That as well as polite requests, sharp demands, and what must have been at least eighteen variations of open sesame. At one point Julian and Rickard left to go hassle a very confused Linde and Merric about if there were any magic words associated with unlocking things (to which they answered open sesame, which made them give up and walk back to Marth’s tent). After a couple more halfhearted attempts, they gave up.
“Yeah, I’ve got nothing.” Julian confessed, slumping onto the ground.
“We could try looking for compartments again?” Rickard suggested, but he too had sat on the floor.
“No. I’ve taken up enough of your time already.” Marth gave a disappointed sigh. “I suppose she was just talking about the right to open chests, not the power to-“
The Fire Emblem gave a tremendous zap of energy, causing Marth to drop it in shock. In its fall to the ground, it bumped up against the lock and clattered to the floor. Seconds later, the lock opened up. The Emblem’s glitter had taken an almost disappointed shine, as if it couldn’t believe that no one had thought of just placing it against the lock.
“Huh.” Rickard said simply. “That’s… wow. Why didn’t we try that?”
“Don’t know, and don’t really care. You know what this means, Marth? You’ve got access to every single locked-up goodie in the world! All of those jewels or bullions, just waiting to be taken!” Julien whooped with excitement, springing up from the ground.
“And here I thought our prince wouldn’t end up a common thief… no offense to the common thieves here.” Jeigan gave a disappointed shake of his head.
“None taken!” Rickard gave him a high-five so powerful it left his gloved hand stinging. “Actually, now that you mention it… Marth’s pretty fast, uses a sword, and can now unlock chests… take away the tiara and royal garb and he’d fit right in at a thieve’s guild! Just as a weirdly polite one.”
“Huh. You’re right. You can pull door keys out of nowhere as well!”
“…You mean the convoy?” Marth looked at them with a confused tilt of the head, completely oblivious of the half-baked plan forming in their heads.
“Yeah! Do you remember that enemy supply run that’s set to happen in a few days? The one we were gonna destroy because we didn’t have enough people to infiltrate it? Well, what if-“
“Absolutely not.” Jeigan snapped. “Sire, you are the prince of Altea. The only living wielder of Falchion left. To have you on the battlefield is bad enough. To take off on some foolhardy mission and risk an artifact as precious as the Fire Emblem would be equivalent to handing you to the enemy!”
“And what? Just sit here while my army slowly starves? We can’t go on by scavenging enemy weaponry and taking whatever food the townsfolk can spare. We will lose if I die on the battlefield, but we will lose if we don’t get supplies soon. I would rather risk that than doom us to a slow death. I know you’re worried. I am too! But I’m not that lost child you had to flee Altea with. If I can do something to help the Archaean League, I will. And I will not wait for you to give me permission.”
Julian felt like he had briefly walked into one of the plays the camp would sometimes put on to improve morale. He and Rickard shared a look.
Jeigan’s eyes continued drilling into Marth’s before softening. “Very well, sire. But know that it is my duty to protect you… which is why I will be accompanying you three.”
“Wha- really?” Julian blurted. Jeigan chuckled.
“I might look old, but I still am one of Altea’s most experienced fighters. Besides, it would do you no good to get stuck behind enemy lines without a way to escape. My steed is just as strong as me. Just for safety, we should bring more people with us if we are to attempt this mission. Cavaliers and Horsemen to transport the goods. Mayhaps Pegasus Knights? Ah, but most of ours are still recovering from last battle…”
“Lena can come!” Julian beamed. What was more romantic that a heist to cripple your enemy’s supplies? “Not only is she able to fight back now that she’s a Sage, but she can also send us away with her Warp staff!”
“I suppose it would be good to have a healer. Very well. We will create a plan today and strike at night. Retrieve her and we will begin planning.”
“Wait! We can’t send Marth out looking like this. Quick, while you’re getting Lena, nab a cloak as well. And take out that tiara! And that brooch…”
—————————
This was either going to be the one of the greatest heists in Julian’s life, one where he and his allies brought lifesaving supplies back to the Archaean League all while being aided by the Fire Emblem, or they were going to die painfully and embarrassingly.
Lena, Jeigan, and the small handful of fellow horse riders waited in the woods, ready to ferry their stolen goods back to their camp with the help of small carts. The three of them had surrounded the enemy convoy, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. There; one of the guards slumped slightly against the wagon they were targeting. Sleep. As quiet as they could possibly be, Julian and Rickard waited by the entrance as Marth slunk inside. While he was far from a master, the time he spent fleeing Altea had served him well. There were no sounds loud enough to draw attention.
They waited patiently for the slight click of a lock being opened as Marth gently lowered a sack of potatoes into their arms before going back into the wagon. Julian made a fist with his hand, a signal to bring their goods to Wolf’s cart. Rickard disappeared into the woods as there was another click, and Marth handed him a sack of grain. Just as Julian began to walk into the woods, Rickard came out ready to take another bag.
This type of thieving was called a daisy chain by the Soothsires and required at least three thieves to pull it off. Granted, calling Marth a thief was like calling a tree branch a table leg, but it was the closest thing they were going to get on a short notice. Any others that could have helped were wounded from an earlier battle, so it was decided to just destroy enemy supplies with magic than risk stealing it. Now, however…
“That’s all for this one.” Marth had just given the last sack to Rickard as Julian returned. A brief check told him that the guard was still sleeping. An underguarded convoy like this was practically asking to be robbed!
“Don’t get comfy yet. Wolf just left with the first load. We’ve still got a lot of wagons left to plunder.” And plunder they did. Granted, they had a couple close calls. Gra and the Dolhrians weren’t as incompetent as they were first made out to be. Multiple times Marth had to hide in a sack to avoid detection as Rickard and Julian ducked behind a tree or beneath the wagon’s wheels, waiting with baited breath to see if they got caught or not. It was a tedious crawl and by the time they emptied out the last wagon it was late into the knight. Rickard was almost asleep on his feet, Julian was covered in twigs and leaves from a couple impromptu dives into a bush, and Marth had bits of grain poking out of his hair.
“Alright. Now we just get back and-“
“Hey! This wagon’s empty!” The voice of a guard roared though the silent night.
“Mine too!”
“Everyone wake up! We’ve been robbed!”
Marth turned to him with wide eyes. “What do we do now?”
Julian grimaced. This was his least favorite part of any heist: when it went wrong. “Now we run!”
The three of them broke off into a wild sprint just as a guard yelled, “There they are! Get them!”
They bounded through the woods as the heavy clank of armor thundered and occasional whistle of an arrow zipped past their ear. There was Lena, sweet lovely Lena with her Warp staff held high sitting on Jeigan’s horse. They hurled themselves onto it. Unfortunately for the remaining members of the heist, even mighty warhorses were not meant to hold five people on their backs. Jeigan’s steed took off into a sprint as Julian clung onto Rickard, who clung onto Marth, who clung onto Lena, who was using one hand to cast Warp and the other to cling to Jeigan, who held tight onto his steed’s reigns for the love of all that was holy. Right as another arrow, flaming this time zipped into their clearing, Jeigan’s steed reared up and Warp went through.
The clinging thankfully meant that all of them were transported with the spell as they Warped back to camp, getting thrown onto the dusty ground as their fellow League members cheered. Jeigan had managed to stay on his steed, good because he probably would have broken many bones if he fell off due to his age. Rickard had crashed into the firewood pile but not the fire itself, a very confused Draug helping him to his feet. He and Lena had collapsed together into a pile by a log, and Marth was currently sprawled out nearby. Knocked out in all of the commotion was the Fire Emblem itself, twinkling mischievously in the slow glow of an approaching dawn.
“You did pretty good today, Marth. If you ever get sick of the royal lifestyle, you know who to talk to.” Julian wheezed.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to lordship from now on.” Marth panted back.
”Fair enough.”