Their Darker Sides [Fire Emblem] 1 - A Darker Beauty

Summary: Robin's attempts to encourage Tharja to be more socially skilled hit a snag when Tharja reveals to him that Noire, and every single one of the children from the future, are not the children of their supposed fathers... but his. And she is all to eager to indulge, even assist, in cuckolding every male Shepherd in the army. And Robin is... admittedly, and worryingly, tempted by the prospect.

-x-X-x-

Lashing down the last of the boxes in the cart, Robin turned to Kellam with a grin as he gave the cart a satisfied pat. "Yep—these aren't going anywhere. Can you think of any other tasks we should be doing now?"

The taciturn knight was about to speak, but then he paled, a nervous tremble coming to his whole body as he raised a finger to point behind Robin. Seeing Kellam so unnerved, Robin had no idea what to expect as he turned-

Oh no.

Tharja.

And she had that look.

"Ummm… I can handle this," he told Kellam, who quickly made his exit. Robin had been making such good progress with the dark mage, encouraging her to be more sociable and less intimidating… and then she immediately made six steps back for every three steps forward. But, he reminded himself, he couldn't hold it against her—there really was a sweet girl hidden behind the… obsessiveness. And he knew that, in the future, she did learn to open up, seeing as how Noire and the others could attest to Tharja's marriage to Gaius in the future.

How that came to be, nobody in the Shepherds knew. Least of all Gaius, but the two of them had been spending time together with Noire, and Robin was optimistic about their relationship. To Chrom's skepticism, but Robin was really just hoping that this was what broke her from her obsession with him.

"Hey Tharja," he said with a disarming smile—and trying to ignore the way she shivered when he greeted her, "Can I help you with something."

"You most certainly can," she replied with a seductive purr that reminded Robin that he couldn't set her up like that. "I think it's high time you fathered Noire."

…

What?

"I- I don't- I-" he stammered, then choked out, "While we're moving camp?" as though that was the objection to what she was saying.

"With everyone busy, no one would notice if we slipped off for the… three or four hours I estimate it would take to exhaust our stamina for our time making love, but- Oh! Would you prefer if I married Gaius first? If that would make your conquest more enjoyable, I could order him to propose-"

"WHAT?"

Tharja just gave him a look as though she thought it strange he hadn't understood her perfectly. "Noire is not Gaius's daughter. She's your daughter," she explained.

Shaking his head, Robin tried to put words together. "Tharja, I… I know you have your… interest in me, but I'm not- that isn't- how could you possibly think that's the case?"

The discovery of the future children had set off one hell of an existential crisis on fate, destiny, love, and how the Shepherds related to their alternate universe future selves, but none more so than the discovery that in the future, Tharja had begun a relationship with Gaius and had an orange-haired daughter—they all universally had their father's hair color, which fascinated Robin—with him. By Noire's account, their marriage was… was something where Gaius—as well as many of the other men in the camp—had major misgivings about whether to pursue realizing that destiny, but Gaius had ultimately announced he was game to romance the dark sorceress. "You've seen her body," were his exact words, as he shrugged off all attempted counsel.

Tharja, on the other hand, seemed to almost not react at all to this revelation that her efforts with Robin were doomed by fate, and certainly had no kindness to direct towards her destined spouse. Which made her behavior now… not exactly understandable, but more that Robin knew not to expect things.

"She has the same trace as you do," she explained "in the exact same way Morgan does—incidentally, I would dearly love to be her mother, but I respect your choice if another has your heart—which tells me, Noire is obviously your child and mine."

"That doesn't make any-"

"Who would know your presence better than I do?"

...she had him there.

Still, there were problems with this claim, and Robin wasn't going to leave them unacknowledged. "But… but Noire's said that Gaius is her father? And that he raised her and the other children all confirm that she-"

Tharja waved it off. "She believes Gaius to be her father, just as I presume he does, but she's undeniably yours. Just like the rest of the future children are, your talents clearly-"

"The- the rest?" Robin interrupted. He was starting to suspect this was some kind of absurd gambit Tharja was making to trick him into sleeping with her, but the way she so offhandedly suggested that Robin had slept with the other female Shepherds—and had cuckolded the other male Shepherds, though that was something Robin cared about far more than Tharja—suddenly brought home to Robin that Tharja sincerely believed what she was saying.

And how insane it was.

Not that Tharja saw it as insane. "Every one of them," she said, as plainly as though she was letting him know what their stock of spare weapons looked like, "They all bear the undeniable trace of your parentage. Oh! You're worried that I might be jealous?" Not his primary concern, no. "It's not a problem. After all, my love, it only makes sense that your worthiness deserves a harem, and if you prefer to conquer women from weaker men, I'm delighted to know that I was helpful to you in your conquest."

Staggered, completely knocked off his feet by what Tharja was proposing, Robin sank down to lean against the cart. This… was she really suggesting that… that in the future, Robin was some kind of… philanderer? That he was the sort of man who could…

Robin realized that he was no longer thinking of this as some conjecture of Tharja's but actual reality. That he had fathered all the time-traveling youths who flitted about the camp. And with that, it was no longer Tharja's behavior that stunned him: it was his own. The men of the Shepherds, they were his friends! He'd seen how delighted Lon'qu was to meet his future daughter with Cordelia, Virion bonding with Inigo, Chrom with-

"Well," he laughed, darkly, "Not all of them. Unless I'm also an Exalt, then..."

The growing grin on Tharja's face told Robin everything he didn't want to know.

"You can't..." he rasped, "That can't… can't possibly..."

"Lucina was how I finally confirmed it, actually," Tharja said with a smile, oblivious to the knife she was slamming deep into Robin's heart. "I also thought it was impossible for her to be any but Chrom's child, but, no matter how intricate and subtle, I cannot miss the trace of one of my own hexes. Dark magic is intimate, and the hex that transplanted the Brand of the Exalt from Chrom onto your child in Sumia's womb bears my signature, as only I could recognize it. It's a phenomenal piece of spellcraft, and I must assume you aided me greatly in it, but-"

"No more," Robin groaned, burying his face in his hands, "Please, don't tell me any more!"

Chrom. His dearest friend, the man who was as close to a brother to him, who'd found him in a field without memories and treated him with nothing but respect. How many battles had they fought together, how many dangers endured, how many times had they saved each others' lives only for his future self to repay his kindness… to seduce the Queen…

What kind of monster was he?

He felt Tharja lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "My love," she began, but Robin wasn't listening anymore.

Pulling away from her, he shook his head. "No. No, I'm… We're not discussing this. I won't- that's not who I am! And we're not- we're not talking!"

With that, he stormed off. Robin felt a pang of guilt for lashing out at Tharja like that, knowing that the dark witch was far more sensitive than most gave her credit for. But he couldn't keep up this discussion, feeling so wretched. It would be one thing if it was just some more craziness from Tharja, some craziness was part of every conversation Robin had with his fellow Shepherds, but this… this was different.

Even storming off, even doing all he could not to think about betraying all his male friends… and seducing all his female ones… Robin couldn't deny the deep dark part of himself that was pleased to know that if he tried to cuckold the Shepherds… he would succeed.

And he did not like how strong that voice seemed.

This had not gone quite according to plan. A surprise to Tharja: she had thought the discovery that Robin had fathered Noire and the other future children would convince him to cease holding back. Perhaps she had been too aggressive… or perhaps she had not been aggressive enough. Robin had always been quite resistant to her ideas on their proper relationship or whether she should be allowed to watch him sleep, and she'd learned that persistence was the key when it came to true love. She just had to be constant in her affections and, eventually, her darling would understand the sincerity of her feelings.

Fortunately, the march had left everyone, even Robin, drained when they finally stopped for the night. As camp was set, watches assigned, and the other matters of maintaining an army on the move were seen to, Robin retired, more preoccupied with his regular duties and not the tasks of ensuring that his tent was warded against dark witches.

Robin was uniquely talented at magically detecting her approach, and yet, he never seemed to take it as yet another proof that they were destined to be together.

Slipping into his tent, Tharja felt confident. This was the right and sensible thing to do, she was sure of it. And Robin would, once she succeeded, see it her way as well. Just a single look at her slumbering love confirmed that not only was Robin the most worthy man, the only one deserving her attention, he was also one where Tharja should have quite a bit of insight into his desires.

It was the strangest thing—there was a darkness that hovered around Robin like a cloak, a mystery and danger, the very power that Tharja ever sought in all her efforts, and yet, to Robin, it was like a second skin. Everything she had ever desired to know and understand in her studies came to Robin as his birthright and the sight of it… simply intoxicated her. How even the most ordinary things, watching his chest rise and fall as he slept, was so intertwined with impenetrable mystery that Tharja knew she could spend the rest of her life simply watching him… but she wanted so much more.

But that was the oddity about it. Robin lived his life enveloped in dark power, and yet, he was… so unlike her. Tharja had thought that the revelation that he had conquered the women of the army would delight him, giving him confirmation that all his desires were reciprocated, but instead, he seemed to lament it. Because… because he was hurting people he cared for.

He had a big heart. A deep compassion for all of them. As their tactician, he could easily sacrifice any number of soldiers to ensure victory in battle. Tharja would have no compunctions against it—she took no pleasure in the loss of life and hated the war that gripped the continent, but her opinion on the war did not make it less real. They were in a war, and until the war concluded, people would die. But Robin would not allow any deaths he could avoid, if at all possible. And, because he was more than any other man, more than any of them, he succeeded beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

Tharja watched his face, relaxed in peaceful slumber. It was a good dream he was having, a pleasant one. He didn't always sleep so well. Tharja knew that very well, having been there, soothing him in the grip of his nightmares, but it was little surprise that a peaceful night was rare for him. What Chrom carried on his shoulders as the leader of the army, Robin carried twice over in his mind. And in his heart. He cared for others, he labored, endlessly, for others. For her.

Which was why Tharja couldn't understand how he didn't see how wonderful it was that he had found love in the arms of so many women! She had been delighted to discover it, a rare bit of joy in these dark days, proof that her beloved received all the love and adoration he deserved. Why should a man like Gaius—an utterly forgettable man if not for her apparent "destiny" with him, who, in spite of his braggadocio, couldn't steal the hairs Tharja had commissioned him to steal—enjoy her body? How did he deserve the love Tharja felt in her heart, what entitled him to see her eyes softened by love and affection? Why should any of those interchangeably unremarkable men receive what Robin had earned a hundred times over?

She was resolute as she crept closer, her heart brimming with confidence that this was the right thing to do. Robin deserved more. He wouldn't accept it, he was simply too kind, too decent, too worthy to pursue what, paradoxically, was his right. So she had to help. She had to help him understand that this was his. That she was his.

Sliding into his bed, Tharja felt a wild thrill come across her entire body. This was a new threshold she had never crossed before, only ever having watched him sleep. Counted the hairs on his head, the turns he made to get comfortable, the rhythm of his gentle, snoring breaths. When he was stricken by nightmares, she soothed him, perhaps stroking his hair or, feeling bold, holding his hand, but nothing like climbing into his bed, crawling under his sheets, and feeling the press of his body against hers.

Oh, and she was usually wearing clothes when she watched him, that also made this very different.

"Hmmmm?" he mumbled in drowsy confusion.

"Shhhhh," she hushed him, "It's alright Robin. I'm here for you. Let me comfort you, my beloved."

"Mmmmm..." he answered, placidly, as Tharja wrapped her arms around the man she loved, moving his head from his pillows to her pillows, her full, soft breasts welcoming him as Tharja struggled not to gasp from the sound of his happy murmur, the warm weight of his head resting against her soft chest.

Any thoughts that this might have been the wrong thing to do were effortlessly squashed by this, the feeling of having her beloved, being connected, flesh to flesh, her heart beating against his cheek. It was so wonderful, just like she always dreamed it might be. The darkness that seemed to swirl around him now embraced her too, all the strange mystery and exhilarating possibility of Robin, her vision of the two of them exploring every inch of-

"Hmmmahhhh… Tharja? What are yoummmmmf-" suddenly, he pushed against her and, in a panic, Tharja responded by muffling his cry of alarm in her cleavage.

"Shhhh! Shhhh!" she tried to shush him in vain, "It's alright Robin, it's perfectly alright. We know from the future that you and I produce a child together, so it should be no problem to-"

"Tharja!" he gasped, "That's not- You can't just-"

"Robin..." she said, her voice breaking with such emotion that her love ceased his protests. "I don't know why you can see so many things, be so very attentive and yet, you can't see how I feel about you. How we feel about you."

He paused, an obvious pain crossed his face as he considered her feelings. Such a sweet and caring man, so much the opposite of Tharja, and yet… was it any wonder he so captivated her? "Tharja… Just because of… because of something that might have happened in the future… that's not our destiny! I don't have to- you don't have to-"

"But I want to. Robin, I have always wanted you, you know this, and I would so gladly give you everything you desire. And is that so wrong?"

Though her words were hitting home—helped by the fact that she knew Robin found her quite attractive, particularly in how she dressed—he still seemed… undecided. "But… but I can't- not to- not to the Shepherds!"

"Robin," she giggled, her hand gently tracing down his chest, well-muscled by the long campaign, drifting towards his cock. "You always put others first… but no, my love. I know what you want, what you desire, and I will not let my love deny himself the happiness he deserves… nor what his women desire."

"Th-Tharja!" he croaked as her fingers wrapped around his shaft. But before he could speak, she shushed him, and this time, thanks to her gentle touch, he complied.

"You are better than them, my love," she said, gently stroking his hardening cock, "As their women could tell you… as they will tell you, they would prefer you to their so-called 'destined husbands.' But they did not realize they could have you, they thought they had to settle for less. But they were wrong," she cooed, "you, wonderful, beautiful man that you are, the stallion among the Shepherds, you give of yourself to these sad and hopeless women and gift them with children. Your children, a worthier gift than any man could ever give them."

Robin groaned, Tharja's fingers sweeping faster and faster up his shaft. Like a spell of great power, her fingers nimbly guided it to its full strength, delicately balancing pressure and a soft touch, reading his signs and sounds of pleasure to know exactly how to draw his sensations higher and higher. He was magic, the aura of power that surrounded him, the effect he had over her, there was no better explanation as she continued to stroke him, crafting his body like a spell.

"You are a tactician, my love," she continued, "a man who has overcome the impossible, bested stronger armies with your superior mind. You have thrown yourself into hopeless battles… and won. Why do you resist your desire to bring those talents to the bedroom? Your competitive dominance, your brilliance that snatches victory from over-confident fools—yes, my love, you should claim your women from men who cannot keep them for themselves!"

She felt the magic crackle around them, her fingers no longer obeying her command but just acting out the shared desire bleeding between them. They were caught in the pull of the Dark, their hidden desires drawn to the surface, all the artificial structures of morality swept aside in the currents of power. Robin gasped, his cock twitching, as he moaned, "Ohhhhhh, yes, yes, I want- I want them. All the Shepherds, all the women, I want to take them… to take them from their husbands, to make their wives mine!"

"And father their children!" Tharja added, "Gifts to your loving harem! Fathering for them better children than lesser men ever could!"

"Ahhhhhh, fuck!" he gasped as he released, a fountain of beautiful white cum, so pure, so potent, launching itself into the air and spattering all over Tharja's hand.

Raising the hand to her face, inhaling the musky scent of this most precious reagent, she greedily slurped it up, licking her fingers clean to get every last trace of her delicious treat. Giving her love a sticky grin before loudly swallowing his load, she admired the look of awe, of lusts inflamed, that he gave her. Finally, he saw her as she wanted him to see her.

"Wow..." was all he said, taking in the reality of what had just happened, of what he had finally accepted he wanted to do, echoing it with another, "Wow."

"It's all you deserve. It's all that will spread happiness amongst the women you love. And… and you're making me very, very happy, my love."

The first two were undeniable truths, but the kind that Robin struggled to accept. But the third… the look on his face told Tharja that she had finally succeeded.

And a look southward told her that he was already ready for another round, yet another testimony to his stature as a man amongst men. "Not yet, my love," Tharja said with a smile, "There is one last thing before you can give me my Noire."

He was a bastard.

No two ways around it, Robin was a bastard. And, perhaps, he'd one day pay for this. But he couldn't deny it, as his eyes roamed over the women in frilly bridesmaid's dresses… he wanted them. Even if they were forbidden, he knew he could have them. And that made them all the more desirable.

A small part of him told him that Tharja had selected her bridal party on the assumption that they were the women who would be pleasing to him—what relationship Tharja had with Cordelia, Olivia, Lissa… well, any woman, any person who wasn't Noire or, well, him, was a mystery—but Robin tried to keep himself in check. He was a bastard, there was no denying that, but while he might have absolute confidence that he could seduce any of these women from the men they were currently exploring their future-inflected relationship with… some vestige of propriety tried to lead him away from thinking what that seduction might look like.

"Of all the colors she would pick for a wedding, I wouldn't have expected pink."

Robin turned to Chrom, in his royal dress uniform, looking at the bridesmaids with disbelief. Robin laughed, "It goes well with purple, and besides… I don't think any of us expected… any of this."

"You can say that again," Chrom whistled. "I figured after marrying Sumia, I'd see a few of you following us to the altar, but of all the Shepherds, I didn't think… well, I guess something changed her mind on Gaius. From the sound of things, she practically ordered him to propose."

"Speaking of..." Robin said, looking around the church, "We probably should check on the groom."

A wedding was a mess of responsibilities and schedules that Robin was a little embarrassed to discover he quite enjoyed. It was like managing an army, ensuring all things were in the right place at the right time for an event to go off without a hitch… and Robin found that the authority of "the Bride said do this" carried even more weight than Chrom's name did. He got a lot of jokes about being the designated wedding planner, but it fit his skills and impressed his peers, even as they ribbed him for it.

Gaius, a man struggling his best to seem as laid back as usual as wedding day stresses came upon him, was particularly grateful. Which brought a twinge of guilt, but more so… as Gaius talked Robin up to his groomsmen, Robin could see his opening gambit connect, each and every one of them telling Robin that they, of course, would want him to assist with their weddings. He was quite sure their brides would be delighted to work closely with him, too.

But that would come soon enough. For now, Robin and Chrom had to get a nervous Gaius ready and prepared, standing at the front of the church and awaiting the arrival of the woman who would be his wife.

It was a lovely wedding. Robin could tell that every guest was a little surprised that "Tharja's wedding" and "lovely" were linked concepts, but they couldn't deny that it was a beautiful one. Robin wasn't surprised at all, though—he knew Tharja had her hidden depths and charms, her sweetnesses that few knew about, but Robin could draw to the fore for her wedding. She looked radiant as a bride, her wedding dress as daring as her usual outfit, but the wide skirt and many dark purple ribbons gave it a dramatic, even queenly look as she swept down the aisle. The stunned look on Gaius's face when he beheld his bride was one of the sweetest things Robin had ever seen, topped only by the look on Noire's face as she brought the rings to her future parents. Chrom had given a magnificent speech on drawing strength from their marriage as he officiated, and Tharja's eyes had sparkled as she gave her vows of love and fidelity.

Knowing that he was about to pervert and shatter it all was turning Robin on something fierce.

The rest was a blur, the reception, the wedding toasts, the insistence that Gaius drink heartily until Robin needed to help him get to his honeymoon suite… and the hex Tharja put on her new husband to keep him from realizing what tonight really was about. Laying him down in a chair to let him sleep it off, Robin turned to his real purpose tonight.

"Oh Robin," Tharja sighed as he kissed her neck, groping her generous chest through her wedding gown, "Oh, I never- I never thought my wedding would be so beautiful!"

"All it needed was you," he growled possessively, poking her with his hardon as he continued to maul her tits, "and it would be the most beautiful wedding anyone could ever have."

"You flatterer," she giggled, honestly giggled, a sound as un-Tharja like as it was so utterly appropriate for the moment. "Can you blame me that I fell for you?"

Robin began to peel her dress off, her breasts popping right out of her bustier as he pinched her nipples. "Fell hard enough to cheat on your husband… to give his wedding night away to another man."

"Ha!" she laughed, "It was never his wedding night! It was always yours my love, my darling!"

Hiking up the train of her dress, Robin admired Tharja's ass, two pale, glorious moons clad in a naughty, lacy pair of panties. A sexy surprise hidden beneath her elaborate dress, something she put on for only Robin to enjoy. Hooking his fingers around it and pulling it down, feeling it pop over the curve of her ass, Robin enjoyed hearing Tharja's impatient, pleading noises almost as much as the sight of her exposed pussy, dripping with arousal.

And what the bride wanted, the bride got.

Pressing his cockhead against her slit, Robin realized he had never been more aroused. Not when Olivia gave him a "private birthday dance," not when Panne had woken him up in his tent, topless, to ask him a question about the duty roster. Tharja, his dark beauty, her body of sinful delights now bent over for his enjoyment, but more so, she was the forbidden fruit, a woman belonging to another. One slumbering in this very room, wholly unaware what was being stolen from him.

Who's the better thief? He thought as he pushed into Tharja, plundering her virginity and rewarding him with a lusty moan from the bride. Who was he to deny what both of them so dearly wanted? Gripping her hips, letting his fingers sink into her pliable flesh, he began to fuck her with all his might. He watched as her full ass quivered from his thrusts, could see her tits swing freely as they dangled beneath her.

"Oh Naga," she wailed, "You- I waited so long for you to realize we were meant to happen, and it's so- you're everything I always imagined you were!"

Robin laughed, giving her ass a sharp, meaty spank, making her squeal as he proclaimed, "My woman doesn't deserve any less!"

"I want- I want-" she whimpered, "I want to look- to look into your eyes… when you give me a child, Robin, please!"

None but Robin knew how deep Tharja's romantic side went, and he couldn't help but indulge it. He enjoyed the display of Tharja's limber flexibility as he flipped her around and marveled at the sight of Tharja in her disheveled wedding dress. He'd seen her in it from the ceremony onwards, of course, but this was the first time they'd truly looked upon each other, gazing eye to eye, with no others between them, his cock buried to the hilt in her pussy and her eyes on fire with that mad devotion that led her to marry a man just to spice up their love life.

By Naga, he loved this woman.

Resuming his pace, he was rewarded with the sight of Tharja's face contorted by pleasure. She gripped the sheets with her hands, biting her lip as she bucked against his hips, crying for him to take her harder, deeper. Robin gasped out praise for her beauty as he bent forward to suck on her tits, while Tharja wrapped her arms around him, her nails raking deep into his back as she shrieked in glee. The pain was bracing, reminding Robin of how alive he was, how forbidden their love!

"You're mine," he growled, "Mine and only mine!"

"He-he'll never touch me!" she gasped, "He'll only think he has, but I belong to you, Robin! For-forever!"

Slamming into her pussy, with all the force he could, Robin thrilled at the knowledge that Tharja was his. His and only his, stolen under the nose of her husband as he slept through his wedding night. Robin would know, would always know, what a fool he was, how pathetic that he would never get to enjoy this hot- wet- PUSSY!

With an animalistic roar of pure, primal possessiveness, Robin released, pumping shot after shot of his seed deep into Tharja's womb. Holding nothing back, she screamed, a long, loud noise of pure satisfaction that told Robin that she was forever his. Her eyes rolled in her head as she was overwhelmed by the pleasure of the long awaited deposit of his semen inside her. Moaning like a whore, the blushing bride struggled to form words as Robin withdrew from her, admiring the volume of his cum dripping out of her slit.

"Well," he grinned, "I'm pretty sure we'll be seeing Noire in nine months, but just to make sure… how about we spend a few more days… or weeks… or the rest of your life having sex together?"

Tharja made a happy sigh, pulling her legs together and trying to trap his semen inside her. Turning to look at her lover, caught in the blissful afterglow of their adultery, she mumbled something incoherent, but sounding like agreement.

Robin pulled Tharja into his arms, enjoying the feel of lying in Tharja's marital bed. He wondered if he would have enjoyed this so much if he wasn't an intruder, a man corrupting a holy ceremony and bringing division to his own friends. A glance at Tharja reminded Robin that she was a woman of surpassing beauty, adventurous sexuality, hidden sweetness, and a dark, perverse lust that made her a woman any man would be more than lucky to have. And taking her from a man who was almost that lucky...

"They all belong to you..." Tharja murmured as she drifted off to sleep.

And as wicked as Robin knew he was to think it… he knew it was true. He had seen the future and he knew what it held for him and the women in his life. They all would be his, snatched under the nose of their oblivious and careless husbands. And fate told him who would be next:

After all, at the end of the ceremony, she had been the lucky one to catch Tharja's bouquet.