1Pairing: Fllay/Kira (pre discovery); Athrun/Lacus; Cagalli/Kira (Pre discovery); Athrun/Cagalli; Kira/Lacus… SPOILERS! Ending: Fllay/Kira; Athrun/Lacus (I have decided to make this story a sort of happy ending.)

Summary: AU 300A.D. The story of a young girl who made a deal with the devil. The story of Fllay All-star, a young girl who had to pick up her life after she lost everything, and had to find a new reason to live and love.

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Seed or Destiny. Didn't really watch all of the show either. Hated the plot, but loved the characters, so I am making an AU so I can keep the characters, without the plot.

Author's Notes: Fllay/Kira and Cagalli/Kira were all before they found out that Kira was Cagalli's twin. So it's not really incest…

Dedication: Dedicated to Termony, cause reading her story made me want to write a Gundam Seed story…

Beta: baby's breath, to whom without, you would all be reading crappily worded sentences.

A/N: I have a tendency to over-use minor characters, but in this case I feel its justified. So tell me if you think otherwise.

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Chapter 4: The Language of Silence

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Now, I need to tell you that the following scene happened very closely to the scene that you have witnessed in the last chapter, so I feel that I should not ramble with my thoughts as much in between. But please note that does not mean I have nothing further to say.

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That year's harvest had passed like all the other harvest in Fllay's life, with the exception of Kira's uncle not asking her to help. As such, it had made Fllay's days during that time exceedingly boring, considering her own father did not own a farm. So instead of working along with the rest of the town, Fllay wondered constantly with her father to the neighboring towns.

While her father worked on the roofs for the people in the towns, Fllay often went to the small town centers to converse with the people gathered there. She was one of the only people, even including the adults, who had ever ventured out of their town. And while she had taken pride in that fact, and had taken to sharing the information that she had gained from the chatter in the other villages, this time the gossip was something that dismayed Fllay.

There had been talk about General Zala concurring one of the close-by villages. And the effects of such news were obvious on the town's people. The once busy streets usually filled with laughter and stalls open for business, had a solemn undertone that day. Instead of shouting at the top of their voices to attract attention from the customer, stall owners merely set up their shops along the shadows provided by the overhanging roofs.

The people that usually chatter like crazy merely seemed like a shadow of their former selves. They walked along the streets with a sense of urgency that Fllay could not explain. They bought things in bulk that easily could be described as excessive.

Uneasy with the atmosphere that had descended on the place, Fllay gave up her attempt of amusing herself, and instead went back to where she knew her father was to help the local butcher fix a spot on the roof. When she got there, she noticed even more of a difference from the norm. Instead of chatting with his costumer, her father had a grim expression on his face as he waited impatiently.

When Fllay got close enough to her father, she noticed that he was constantly tapping his foot against the ground. She grimaced. He only did that when something was really bothering him.

"Father? What is the matter?" Fllay asked.

Her father's expression did not change, and instead of answering her, he only turned on his feet and started trudging back towards their town. The set of his shoulders showed the tension that he was feeling.

"Father?" Fllay tried again, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her father.

George slowed down his walk, but did not stop. Waving his hand in a slight motion that passer-bys would have missed, he beckoned Fllay over to his side.

"Fllay, honey, I need you to keep your voice down, understood?" There was a sense of no-nonsense in the way that he spoke that Fllay had never heard before. As such, she could only nod her head and walk faster so she could keep pace with her father.

"When we get back to the village I want you to pack your bags. Bring only what is necessary…" George was interrupted by his daughter's gasp. Instantly, he placed his hand over her mouth to keep her from attracting attention to them.

"Fllay…" Fllay only nodded as the shocked expression she wore stayed in place as her father let go of her.

"I need you to go into the market today as soon as we go home and buy some foods that will have a long preservation life. Do you understand me?" At this point George stopped his walk and stared into his daughter's eyes.

Again Fllay could only nod. "…Why?" was the only thing she managed to get out, in her stunned state, for she had never seen her father so serious.

"There has been talk between the men of this town that General Zala might be coming this direction…"

"Yes, I have heard of such a thing too from the women in the market," Fllay answered, trying to understand why that was such a big thing.

George nodded to Fllay's statement. "If General Zala comes to this town, there is a likely chance that he will head towards our town next."

"Father, I don't understand…" Fllay looked so lost that it broke his heart.

"General Zala's men are the fiercest in the continent, and they will stop at nothing in their conquest. They will level any town or city they come upon, whether the people give up or not. Are you still with me?" At Fllay's nod, he continued. "That is why we must travel west, and get out of his path of destruction."

Fllay nodded. "Father! We have to tell the village! Everyone must hurry and pack then!" With, finally, the understanding of how dire their situation was, Fllay began to run towards the village, hoping to warn everyone of the dangers that were coming. But her father's grip on her forearm stopped her.

"Father?! Hurry!"

George shook his head; sadness blanketed his seemingly older face. "No, Fllay, you must not tell anyone of what we have heard here."

"But…Father! What about everyone?! We have to make sure that everyone is safe! Kira…the others…"

"No. Fllay. If everyone moved at once, it would draw too much attention to us. And it would just get us killed faster. Besides, having a whole village move would make too much of a trail. We must go, just us."

"But…Father…" Fllay tried to argue once again, but this time with much less energy than before, as what her father implied started to set in. They would have to sacrifice their community for their own safety. Throw the wolf the sacrificial lamb to save the farmers, in a sense.

Fllay couldn't even bring it to hate her father for suggesting such a thing, seeing the guilt-ridden expression on his face. Bowing her head down, she started walking again. Her father caught up to her mere seconds later, and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. She shrugged it off, hoping to be able to blame the crushing feeling of inevitable doom on someone.

George bent down to his daughter ear level and sighed. "Fllay. You have to understand. You are my priority."

Fllay picked up her head and looked at her father. "I have to keep you safe. And I will do anything to achieve that… I'm sorry. I wish there was another way."

Taking her hand in his, George gently tugged his daughter to walk faster.

"…Daddy?"

"Yes, princess?"

"…I'm scared…"

"…I'm sorry."

The father and daughter pair walked back to their town in silence.

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Sometimes the sound of silence says more than anything else. And in this case, the silence that hung between father and daughter almost drowned Fllay. The shame; the guilt; and finally the sadness, each as heavy as a thousand pound boulder pressing down on her shoulders. I suppose it's one thing to want to live, and not being able to help those that get caught in the way of your path of survival; and a whole other thing when you are throwing others in front of you to shield yourself from the flames. Death makes everyone equal, but the means of bringing death separates the survivors from the murderers, and at this point, even I could tell, Fllay was tittering on the edge of the two.

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