Family Portrait

One Shot

Pairing: Hints at Raven x Lucius

Another day, another skirmish with the Black Fang, and yet another headache. Raven hoped that one day someone would invent something that would ease the pains of headaches. But he doubted something like that would ever happen. Of course, the battles weren't the only things that caused the pounding in his head, and they weren't the only thing that gave him even more reasons to be more of a bitch than he already was. It was the people around him. Most of them were so loud, and they didn't have any consideration for the others. That moronic Wil, especially. And all the stupid nicknames he came up with. And don't get him started on the blockhead, Bartre. Oh dear sweet Elimine was that man stupid. That Rebecca was a decent girl, yes. But she was just as loud and talkative as the others were.

Raven preferred his privacy and liked to keep the area around him pretty much free of any other human beings, if he could help it. He'd chat with the tactician every now and again. All the units did, even Rath. And that man could be quieter than a rabbit, Lord knows. His sister, Priscilla, would come for a moment's time as well. And don't get him wrong. He loved his sister. But she also had others to talk with, too. And lately she seemed to prefer them over him. Of course, he wasn't surprised. Not after the way he had talked to her that day. Severing his ties to the Cornwell name. He knew he upset her, but he didn't make any moves to console. It wasn't in his nature. Wil had once said Raven has two settings. Scowl and glare. And Lucius laughed at that, saying it was true. Lucius. Laughing. At something like that. Could...he really be that bad? So bad that Lucius found himself unable to hold back laughter on such an account ?

'This is my normal face.' He had once said to Wil. It was true. Raven never had much reason to smile or laugh. Not after the fall of House Cornwell. In fact, the only person he had smiled around lately was Lucius. It was hard not to. Most made fun of the monk's feminine features. Lucius had told him once that the cleric girl, Serra, had mistaken him for a woman at one point. It was a rather amusing story, to say the least. It even made Raven chuckle a bit. But he didn't press the matter. He knew how sensitive Lucius was about his looks. And he didn't want to make him cry. He was sure the blonde had done enough of it while in the orphanage. However, he knew that he had teased Lucius before when he was still young. 'Jab and jibe' as Lucius put it.

But now, Raven would feel a slight flutter in his stomach when Lucius came around for a chat. It was ever so subtle, but it was there. He didn't deny it. Not internally, at least. He wasn't sure of the reasons, and he wasn't sure when it started happening. It just...happened. It had gotten so bad as to where Raven felt ill if he ever saw Lucius frown, or if he ever saw the man cry. He'd watch as he prayed to St. Elimine, asking for the forgiveness of the men they had slain. 'It's not their fault.', he would say. 'They are merely caught up in a war that is affecting and changing everyone. Do not blame them.' He was always so sweet, and so gentle. He was the kindest person in Eliwood's little band of mercenaries. And he would always cry when a battle was over. Lucius hated the sight of blood. He hated death. So why did he become a mercenary ? Why did he follow Raven around, and, to this day, protect his name and continue to proclaim him a good man ? ...why ?

Raven, however, was snapped out of these thoughts when he heard their tactician calling for them to stop for the day. Thank the gods. He had been stuck behind Sain and Serra the whole way there. Headaches. More of them. Serra was a headache in herself. And almost all the other troops would agree with him on that. Erk especially. From what he's heard, Erk had to escort Serra to Ostia. By himself. Raven almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost...

After everyone had readied their tents for the evening, the group gathered around an assortment of fire pits set up throughout the camp. All, of course, but the ones that preferred to keep their distance, like Rath, Kent, and Raven. The ruby-eyed mercenary strolled over to the tent he and Lucius usually shared, ignoring the constant shouts and beckons to join one the group around one of the fires as the girls sang a song or two. He wasn't in the mood for music. Hell, he wasn't in the mood for much of anything. All he wanted was sleep. Sleep and a nice big mug of something alcoholic. He knew he wasn't going to get either, however. They were miles from the nearest town, and the way that damn pink-haired cleric shrieked when it was her turn to sing drove him absolutely insane. She could revive her ancestors with a voice like that. Come to think of it, she could revive her ancestor's ancestors with a voice like that.

He heaved a sigh and slumped against a pile of blankets Lucius had so neatly folded up in a corner, ritualistically folding his arms. Lucius was a neat freak, but Raven had no room to complain. It didn't hinder them in any way, or cause any problems. To Raven, it was just one aspect that made Lucius better than all the other weirdos under Eliwood's command. Lucius was kind...gentle...and he had a huge heart. He wanted to help with anything in any way he could. Not like Sain, or Serra...or..

...or Sain.

All Serra did was complain, and Sain just showed off to the ladies. But Lucius...Lucius is different. He cares about the people around him, and he can be seen rushing to the aid of anyone who has even the smallest scratch.

Ever since he had upgraded to a Bishop he requests to be up in the front lines, saying he can't heal people all the way in the back. This...however, was...sort of true. But... it still put Lucius in a lot of danger, and he didn't like that. Raven had discussed this situation with their tactician and he agreed that it was dangerous and that he'd be sure to keep Lucius in the company of strong warriors, like Hawkeye or Heath, just incase. After hearing this news Raven had managed to find a lot more time to relax and less time worrying about something so trivial.

No... it wasn't trivial. This was Lucius they were talking about. His last family... the last person he felt he could open up to. The last person he felt could understand him and his actions. Lucius didn't like his plans for revenge against house Ostia, but he knew very well the reasons for such a grudge. This is why he didn't say much on the matter...not often, anyway. He still followed Raven around as if they were the best of friends, and if there were no ill thoughts against anything.

That...was what he truly wanted.

He felt himself nodding off, but he didn't try to fight it. He was tired and just wanted to sleep and let the rest of the night slip past, unnoticed by his unconscious state. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt his tightly folded arms slipping loose. His head started to spin as he slid slowly off of the pile of soft, warm blankets. And then it happened, he fell on his side and drifted off to sleep.

But that peaceful world of surreal wonders and fantasies didn't last long. Something had fallen onto his head and his body bolted upright in a rage. Was Matthew throwing rocks again? Or pine cones ? Whatever hit his head...it hurt, dammit. He wasn't one to admit his pain. Oh no. He tried his best to hide this kinda stuff.

He began glaring around, looking for the source of his pain. And then he gasped, his red eyes falling upon something he hadn't seen in years. It was a small painting of his mom and dad, plus Lucius and himself. He couldn't believe Lucius had been carrying it around all this time. He picked it up and ran his fingers along the grooved framework, the smooth glass. And he found a digit coming to rest on Lucius, and he gently stroked the face of the blonde monk. Seeing those child-like eyes, that long golden hair. It was hard to believe Lucius was older than he was. And he sometimes wondered who was the most mature out of the two.

Of course...it was Lucius. That gentle demeanor, that calming smile. And he always tried to find a way to resolve problems verbally before resorting to violence. He didn't allow his anger get out of control. He was always, somehow, able to keep the violence inside him, if there was any at all, at a minimum. He was such a sweet man. It's hard to believe he worked alongside Raven as a mercenary all these years.

Raven grumbled and set the portrait back up in the place where he thought it had been before it fell. Just in time, too. A soft, gentle voice came from the front of the tent, making the red-headed mercenary jump.

"Lord Raymond ? Are you descent ?"

He flushed a bit at the words, but fought it back quickly. "Y-yes, Lucius. Come in."

"Ah, great." He lifted the flap and climbed inside, letting the tent flap fall back into place. He slid into his usual place in the tent and grabbed one of the blankets and a pillow. "I was getting tired. Everyone else is retiring to their tents as well."

"So...I can actually get some sleep tonight?"

"Hm? Oh...oh yes." The monk smiled sweetly and nodded. "Yes. I believe we'll be sleeping fairly well tonight." He chuckled and slipped underneath the blanket, closing his eyes. Raven decided to follow Lucius and go to sleep. He did as Lucius had done and got under a blanket, resting his head on a soft pillow. He was ready to go to sleep. And he wanted to . But... he felt that... he'd definitely miss the warmth of Lucius's body against his when he finally did fall asleep. Then again...there's always the next night...