This one shot also serves as a small interlude within my much longer story, "Let's Play the Quiet Game", but you need not have read it to be able to understand this, though I hope you'll give the other story a chance if you like this one. Nothing is alluded to from the other story except for my personal head canon that Silver and Mika were musicians in life. Enjoy, and if it pleases you, let me know!

A sword or a cross? The mark of a warrior, or of a peacemaker? No. It was both. The adornment of both the protector and the spiritual head of the household. It had belonged to his father's father, he'd been told, who had been killed as a bystander during one of the many guild wars that had been so prevalent in the past. Given to Silver by his own mother the day he'd confessed having found the one he intended to marry. A beautiful, well-to-do maiden he'd met after performing with a few of his friends at her uncle's birthday party.

After courting her for a while, he'd finally drummed up the courage to ask for her hand. She knew his family was poor, and that he couldn't afford a proper ring of gold to give her. It was after he'd finished performiming at a large village festival, surrounded by many of his musician friends, that he'd presented his father's necklace as a token of his love, and offered his beloved his heart and name.

And it was among all his friends that his heart was broken.

A mere gemstone embedded into a silver pendant, while quite valuable to one who had so little, was a mere trinket to a wealthy landowner's daughter. It couldn't even be sold for an unadorned band of gold. The woman had sneered at the perceived insult, then laughed at the realization that the man was serious in thinking this gift was worthy of her. To her, Silver had been a fun amusement, a diversion from the otherwise dull life of a proper lady.

It was late into the evening when a group of his friends had thought to track him down, wanting to take him to a tavern to help him drink his sorrows away. They found him sitting on one of many logs scattered about, used as seating throughout the festival. He was hunched over, staring at the "mere trinket", face drawn in sadness, but also in anger. At himself. He should have known better. Why would a woman of stature want to marry the poor son of a dead priest and his widow?

Having no interest in company, he'd turned his friends away, and was quite content to remain where he was, for the rest of the night, in his miserable stupor, when someone intruded in his solitude.

"That's a beautiful necklace. Did you buy it from one of the vendors here?" asked a curious voice.

He'd looked up, about to brush the person off, but lost his thought upon seeing who had spoken to him. He recognized this girl. She'd joined the village ensemble recently, and had already made herself at home among the usually rowdy bunch. If anything, she added a touch of class to the crew, he'd often thought since she'd joined. She played the keyboard. The one they had wasn't the best, but was the best they could afford. Nonetheless, she was somehow able to cajole the most wonderful tunes from that cheap instrument. She was a nice, friendly, delightful girl to have around, and he couldn't bring himself to be crude and surly with her like he'd wanted to be. She didn't deserve such ill treatment.

"It was my father's. He was the priest of the village church a long time ago, before he died. My mother had held onto it for so long. I was to give it to the one I would love, but… hmph… maybe I should just sell it after all. Might pay for a few pints at least."

"You shouldn't do that. I can tell it means something to you."

"Can you, now? And how would you know? This is the first time you've ever spoken to me."

"But I've watched you. I know many of the faces you make, and the one you're making now is… one of longing. And sadness. But there's also a bit of relief. I don't think you were quite ready to let it go."

"More like a growing realization of the bullet I'd dodged," he smiled grimly, " ... She said my father's cross wasn't worthy of her. I'd say it was the other way around."

The girl took on a look of slight puzzlement, and came a little closer, peering at the pendant with a critical eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing. I just thought … I mean, it's not a big deal, but well, I was sure it was a sword."

His bitter smile softened into a more genuine one as he replied, "I suppose I can't blame you. Many swords look like crosses."

"Or perhaps a cross often looks like a sword," she smiled back.

His smile widened, and he chuckled.

"You're an observant one. So … You were watching me, huh?"

"It… it's nothing like that! I mean, sure, when you're playing. You play so well, and when you do, you look like you're really enjoying yourself. I love watching people enjoy what they do. Everyone should be able to have that kind of joy."

"Ah. You like to people watch, I see."

"I like to watch anything that interests me," she replied, smiling bashfully.

One brow raised at her coy, yet bold, admission, his heart skipped a beat as he replied, "... That a fact? *ahem* Well, you know, I've suddenly found myself with a great deal of time on my hands. If you're free also—"

"—I'd love to."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"That's only fair. I bet you don't even know my name."

"Well now I feel disgraced. We've worked together these last few weeks, and we hadn't even been properly introduced." Rising, he offered a clumsy, gentlemanly bow, like he'd seen given by the men within his former lover's household. "My name is Silver. It's my pleasure to meet you."

With a soft giggle, the girl returned his bow with a more successfully rendered curtsy, before replying, "The pleasure is mine, good sir … My name is Mika."

The End