Tharja strode through camp with purpose, mentally tallying the hexing ingredients she needed to fetch from the supply tent for her next experiment. She paid no heed to the hot, muggy Valmese summer air; having lived most of her life in Plegia's deserts, heat had little effect on her in comparison to her comrades. Already she had come across several today who were complaining about how stifling the temperature was, the lot of infants.

She slowed her pace as she neared her destination, her path blocked by another individual who was unperturbed by the heat.

"Heya Tharja! How's it going?" Henry waved.

"Do you always stand around in people's way like an idiot? I doubt you're here for hexing supplies yourself; I'm sure a creep like you would love collecting them by hand."

"Oh no, I'd never kill an animal. I have my crow friends scavenge for the parts I need."

"Then why are you in my way?"

"Oh, just CAWS. Nyahahaha!"

Tharja scowled. "You're as unpleasant and unnerving as ever. Get lost." With that she made to move past him and enter the supply tent, but Henry stepped in front of her, cutting her off.

"You've been trying out a bunch of curses on poor Noire, haven'tcha?" Henry said it more like a statement than an actual question.

Tharja frowned as she assessed Henry, whose cheerful expression might as well have been a mask for how ineffective it was at conveying what he really felt. She scowled. Trust Henry to pick up on something like that.

"And what if I have? She's no daughter of yours. Mind your own damn business."

Henry waved his finger. "Ah, but you see, it is my business. Here's the thing… when I see some poor kid getting mistreated by their folks..." Henry's jaw twitched slightly. "Well, let's just say I really don't like it."

"Deal with it. Run along now, I have some experiments to conduct."

Henry abruptly stopped smiling, which sent off alarm signals in Tharja's head. She had never, ever seen the Dark Mage not smiling. "No, you don't," he said, coldly, quietly, and definitively. "I won't allow you to harm that child."

Tharja growled. "And what if I do? Will you try to curse me? I've been practicing diligently since our last match. Don't think that you can beat me now!"

Henry opened his pale grey eyes, and Tharja felt tremors run up and down her spine as a cold sweat threatened to break out. "No, I won't try to hex you," he whispered.

Tharja felt incredible malice pressing down on her from all sides—a cloying, terrible sensation. Whether it was an actual hex or simply Henry's overwhelming presence, she couldn't tell. She froze in place and felt utter terror for the first time in her life as Henry uttered three words.

"I'll kill you."

Tharja gulped, suddenly rooted to the spot either by fear or by Henry's magic. He meant it. Of course he meant it, it was Henry for Grima's sake! And he could actually do it, too. Henry was on a very, very short list of Shepherds that Tharja considered capable of killing her. And unlike the others, he was not above wanton murder.

Tharja bluffed. "Even if you could kill me, you wouldn't dare. If I die, then Noire will never be born in this timeline."

"Don't care."

The rebuff was so sudden, so unexpected, and so disinterested that Tharja was stunned. How could it be that Henry was willing to kill to protect the future-past Noire, but would remorselessly condemn the Noire of this time to nonexistence? Tharja decided that Henry was not interested in a philosophical debate on the subject. Dissuading him would be impossible, but so would abandonment of her "research".

Fine then. This is my only path forward.

"So be it," Tharja said darkly as she pulled out a Ruin tome. "If you're so insistent on this, then I suppose the outcome is inevitable. I'll not meekly roll over and die just because you dispute my abilities as a parent."

Henry's smile finally reappeared as he pulled out a Waste tome. He gave no pun, no signature laugh. It was almost as if an entirely different person stood before Tharja.

Three seconds passed before the exchange began, but each seemed to drag out like an eternity for Tharja. She was hesitant to make the first move; if the fight was interrupted by the Shepherds she didn't want to be seen as the one who had initiated it.

Henry wordlessly cast his spell, dark energy collecting around Tharja. She quickly jumped out of the way, then jumped again as the automatic follow-up attack struck. She narrowly avoided injury, but Henry was now upon her, a Flux tome ready in hand. Panicking, Tharja whipped out an Elthunder tome. She successfully countered the attack, but the recoil sent her flying, causing her to land on the ground hard and skid across it. Henry had retained his footing, and tossed the Flux tome into the air as he took out an Elfire tome. He lopped a fireball at Tharja, who barely managed to roll out of the way before Henry had caught the Flux tome and fired another attack at her. This one caught Tharja dead on, causing her to hack up blood as her chest burned. However, she had prepared for this, and was already in the middle of letting off a Nosferatu. Henry seemed to be caught by surprise and took the attack unguarded. Tharja breathed a sigh of relief as her more serious injuries immediately healed from the spell's draining nature, leaving only a few superficial cuts.

Wait. Something's not right here.

Henry should've been able to avoid that. Not easily, but he could've managed it.

"You bastard… did you take that Nosferatu on purpose to draw this out?"

Henry giggled. "Maaayyybbeee," he drawled. He put away his Flux tome and brought the Waste tome back out. He was about to attack again when a shrill voice cried out.

"Mother! Uncle Henry! What are you doing?!"

Henry turned to find the blonde archer standing behind him, shaking nervously. "Oh! Heya, Noire! I'm just trying to kill your mom, that's all!"

"Wh-what?! Uncle Henry, why would you do that?!"

"She's been cursing you non-stop, right? I'm not going to sit back and let her hurt you."

"W-well, yes, but that's ok, really! I don't mind helping Mother with her research! Really! So please stop fighting!"

Henry shook his head. "Nope! Sorry Noire, but this is for your own good. Better no parent than a bad parent, I always say! Nyaha-"

Henry's laugh was abruptly cut short as an arrow whistled past his head. He quirked his eyebrows in surprise, and turned to give Noire his full attention.

"BLOOD AND THUNDER!" Noire screamed, now in her alter ego. "I DID NOT COME BACK IN TIME TO HAVE SOME SIMPERING HALFWIT ROB ME OF MY MOTHER ONCE MORE! MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, FOOL!"

Tharja regarded her daughter with some concern. Already, she could sense the flare-up of dark energy that occurred only when Noire became like this. Without the talisman to restrain it, Noire's aura was practically visible.

Henry just began to laugh, holding his fingertips out in the air. "I don't believe this! All this dark energy! Noire, I had no idea you were so powerful! You might even be stronger than me!"

Tharja pursed her lips. Yes, Noire had an abundance of dark energy, moreso than she had ever seen in anyone other than Robin or that accursed brat he had apparently had with Chrom's daughter. That abundance was the problem, though, and the focal point of her research.

"Well, come on!" Henry yelled excitedly. "Hit me with your best curse! I want to see what you've got!"

"CEASE YOUR CHITTERING, IMP!" Noire bellowed as she notched another arrow, aiming it at Henry. "I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO CURSE SOMEONE, SO I SHALL MAKE DO BY CAUSING YOU TO CURSE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN!"

If Henry's eyes had been open he would've blinked. He turned to Tharja in confusion. "Your kid doesn't know Dark Magic?"

"As you can see, her power is overflowing, but she has no ability to give it outlet."

"But that would mean… Ooooohhh! Well why didn't you say so in the first place! I almost killed you over a mistake, nyahahaha!"

"…That's not funny."

"Looks like I'm way out of line, huh? I didn't realize you were helping her this whole time…"

Noire looked from Henry to Tharja, then back to Henry, arrow still trained on the former. "EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THIS IS ABOUT, LEST I TEAR YOUR TONGUES FROM YOUR HEADS AND WEAR THEM AS PENDANTS!"

"Your mom's been trying to deal with that," Henry explained, making a sweeping gesture that indicated Noire in her entirety. "The whole "Blood and Thunder" thing is really cool and all, but it's also really bad for you. All that dark energy is eating you from the inside out. It's why you're so sickly! Your mom was just trying to use curses to let some of that energy out, like a bloodletting! …Mmmm, blood…"

Noire's posture changed almost immediately, and she turned to Tharja with a surprised look. "M-Mother? Is this true?"

Tharja scowled, but nodded. "From what you've told me, the other me was responsible for the creation of your alter ego. And said alter ego is acting as a nexus for your dark energy, concentrating it within you to the point of making you ill. I'm not much of a mother, I'll admit, but… Well, I couldn't just leave things like this," she muttered, seeming almost embarrassed that she had been caught in the act of caring about her daughter's wellbeing.

Noire stared at Tharja in awe. "Y-you were helping me… the whole time? …Oh, Mother, I knew you cared!" She rushed over and embraced Tharja, who bristled and immediately tried to push her away.

"Get off. I'll confess I do care about you, if only a little… but don't think for a second that I'm going to start acting all lovey-dovey all of a sudden!"

Tharja momentarily stopped struggling against Noire, who was now crying a bit, as she noticed Olivia running towards them.

Ah right, she and Henry are something of an item now, aren't they?

The dancer came to a stop in front of them, hunched over and out of breath.

"I… I-I saw… you two fighting… from a distance. Is… is everyone… alright?" she wheezed.

"Oh everything's just peachy. Your lover tried to kill me is all."

"What?! Henry, how could you?!"

Tharja was stunned to see Henry look abashed, perhaps even a little ashamed. "…I thought she was hurting her daughter. That just got me really upset, and I, well I… Sorry, Olivia…"

Olivia sighed, then placed a hand on Henry's cheek. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Henry nodded, then turned to Tharja. "Sorry for trying to murder you! Won't happen again, probably!"

"Henry."

"Definitely won't," he amended. He frowned, thinking for a moment, then turned to Noire. "And I'm sorry to you too, Noire. I should've realized your mother means a lot to you. Can you forgive me?"

Noire sniffled and nodded. "I-I guess so… just please don't so anything crazy like that again. I don't want to lose my favorite uncle either!"

"No promises, but I'll try my best! Nyahahaha!"

Olivia turned to Tharja, fretting as she pushed her index fingers together. "Umm, Tharja? I know what Henry did was wrong, and I'll have a talk with him about it later, but could you please not tell anyone about this?"

"As if. He tried to kill me. I'm going to report this to Robin and Chrom straight-away."

Olivia began to panic. "No! Please, listen! Henry had a really hard childhood. His parents threw him away when he was a child, and aside from Mr. Mustafa he never really had anyone to care for him before he met us, so he gets really upset about parental abuse and you know how he is about killing but he's really actually very nice and just doesn't know better because no one ever taught him about…" Olivia continue to spill out explanations, becoming increasingly flummoxed as her torrent of information began to ramble.

Tharja's thoughts unintentionally wandered to her husband's own darkness. For how benevolent Libra was, the priest had harbored a darkness within him that Tharja could never have been prepared for. (Come to think of it, that was perhaps the explanation of where Noire's own darkness came from, if it was not simply resultant of the grim future-past.) Libra could've so easily become a monster if he hadn't found acceptance as a clergyman, and all because his parents cast him away. Henry was much the same, she supposed. And he had been acting simply out of concern for her daughter, even if it was in his own twisted way.

Tharja raised a hand, cutting off an increasingly frantic and red-faced Olivia. "…Fine. But you owe me big time, both of you. And I always collect on my debts."

The dancer's face lit up. "Of course! Thank you, Tharja!" She tugged on Henry's sleeve. "Henry!" she whispered. "Thank her!"

"Hmm? Oh right! Thanks Tharja! Take care, Noire!" he waved cheerfully, but before Olivia could lead him away, he stood still for a moment. "…Say, Tharja?"

"What?" she growled. She just wanted to get away from the madman and be done with this.

"Would it be alright if I tried to help Noire figure out a way to channel her dark energy? If I can find a way, we can get her all better without you having to curse her."

Tharja blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Only if you'll acquiesce to being my test subject in her place."

"Nyahahaha! Sure, sounds fun!

Tharja nudged her daughter. "Noire, thank your uncle."

Noire jumped in surprise. "Erm, th-thank you Uncle Henry!"

"No problem! See ya later!" With this, he turned to Olivia, slipping his hand into hers before the two left.

Tharja and Noire were left in awkward silence. Tharja looked at her daughter, who was now looking at the ground as she shuffled her feet. Tharja thought quietly for some moments, then issued a command. "Noire, fetch me newt tails, cobwebs, and mockingbird eggs. As of today you're promoted from test subject to assistant."

Noire looked up in shock, then beamed. "R-right away, Mother!" she said excitedly before hurrying into the supply tent.

Tharja stared at nothing in particular. "…I don't know how you messed up so badly," she said to her dead future-past self, "But I'm not going to make the same mistakes as you."