Title: Silence is Golden
Characters: Lucius and Serra; friendship! (NOT a pairing. :P)
Word Count: 942 (Whoa, close to 1000. :S)
Timeline: This is set around the later stages of the campaign.
Summary: The mild-mannered monk and the outspoken cleric find that they have something in common.
Spoilers: Lucius x Serra support conversation and a bit about their backgrounds. Actually this is my take on their Rank A conversation, though I didn't always use the exact words in the game.
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is not owned by Splendid Shadows. Yes, shocking, I know. :D
A/N: Heh, my first non-romance one shot. :) Please review if you like my stories so I know whether to continue or not!

With a huff Serra flopped down onto the soft grass. Today had been one of the most terrible days in her life!

First of all Lord Hector had been injured during their latest battle against Nergal's forces. The golden-eyed morphs showed no mercy during combat, and the group of sword masters had nearly killed the Ostian lordling before Lord Eliwood and Lady Lyndis could come to his rescue.

This set Oswin and Matthew off into an anxious fit, and they had clustered around their liege lord like a pair of mother hens. Their constant worrying and nagging irritated Lord Hector, which heightened his already present anger due to his being wounded.

He had been snapping at everyone, but especially at Serra, who had come into his tent to try to heal him.

Finally the usually diplomatic tactician had ordered, not asked, Serra to leave and for Matthew to fetch Priscilla. That was the last indignation she would suffer.

With a very displeased, "humph!" she had left Lord Hector's tent and walked without a destination in mind. Her usually sunny face was marred with a deep scowl that set the rest of the group around her on edge. It wasn't like most of them wanted to talk to her anyway; all knew about her sharp tongue and chattering nature.

In the end she had walked away from the encampment without telling anyone and found herself a quiet spot in a nearby clearing.

And that was how Lucius discovered her, a few minutes later, muttering to herself and angrily swiping at her eyes. He felt a little apprehensive talking to her since it had been awkward for the both of them when she had found out he was a male and not a girl. But gathering his courage he quietly entered the clearing and sat beside her.

She didn't acknowledge his presence but he patiently waited. After a few moments she happened to glance in his direction and started.

"Lord Lucius?" she asked.

"Good afternoon, Serra," he smiled kindly at her. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

She nodded mutely.

"Ah, and it looks ever more beautiful in this clearing," he said, looking at the wild flowers dotting the grass.

"I know I shouldn't be here alone," she shifted uncomfortably. "But I … I needed some time to myself."

"I understand," Lucius smiled. "It's getting quite hectic now, isn't it?"

"Mm hmm," Serra agreed. "But may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"I was wondering where you're … umm … from?"

He cocked his eyebrow. That wasn't what he expected her to ask, but it looked like she needed a good distraction from what had happened in camp. The racket Lord Hector was making in his tent could be heard a good distance away, even if the tent flaps had been closed.

"I was born in Etruria," he said after a slight pause.

"I knew it!" she broke in before he could say anything else. "That gorgeous blond hair! Where else would you be from?"

" … Not all Etrurians have blond hair …" he gave her a peculiar look.

"Oh it was just a guess! Don't take it so seriously," Serra laughed at his expression. "So what rank is your family at court? Barons? Viscounts perhaps? Counts even? Oh, if they were dukes I would just die!" she squealed.

"Serra …" Lucius said faintly, "I am … a commoner."

"What!" the cleric gasped. "No way!"

"My father was a soldier for hire. He died when I was three."

"Oh," the pink haired woman deflated. "So … how did you live?"

"My mother died shortly of a wasting sickness. When she breathed her last … they took me to an orphanage, where I spent several years …"

"In an orphanage …" Serra paled.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm not what you expected at all!" he immediately apologized as tears began to fall from her face.

"Si-Sister Serra? Why are you crying so?"

"No … you don't understand. I … I …" she said brokenly in between sobs. "I was raised … in a convent."

"Oh," was all Lucius said.

"Like you … I grew up … in a sad … and strange … place. I understand … what it was like."

The blond monk handed her his kerchief and she used it to dab at her face. For a long time no one spoke as Serra wept and Lucius tried to comfort her by just being there. When her sobbing finally lessened somewhat, he smiled at her.

"You are very kind," he said.

"Most people don't think so," she scowled. "They're always telling me to be quiet or to be more serious. But I never want to hear silence again! I've had enough of that at the convent. Everyone was so … dead there, so hopeless and dismal. That's why when I left … I promised myself I would never let myself hear silence again!"

She had shouted the last sentence out, and a few pigeons flew off from their perches. Lucius gave her a sympathetic look, but the expression she treasured most was his understanding.

Serra had never told anyone about her past, not even her fellow Ostians, but this man, this blessed, beautiful man who'd she'd only met a few months ago, knew what she had gone through.

Opening his arms to her, Lucius let Serra rest her head against his chest. He wrapped her in his arms and the two stayed that way, quiet and still, each comforting the other as they tried to reconcile with their past.

Feeling warm and protected in his arms, Serra thought that silence was tolerable. For now.