#luciusraven

[doop2]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

When Lucius is injured, Raven has to take care of him in a way he never has before. Fluff, oneshot, rated G.

[diabolikpersonals]

i had a dream i couldnt walk so yuma carried me and im crying he was s so soft

anybody and anything that can be held by yuma is so lucky !!

[doop2]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

He didn’t think Lord Raymond would leave him without warning, but it was possible he’d get some foolhardy notion in his head about Lucius’s safety and run off without regard to what Lucius actually wanted. And Lucius would be left picking up the pieces - having to decide whether to chase after him or go his own way, because there was no way he could spend a lifetime waiting - no matter how much Raymond would have preferred that.

After the end... Where do you go from there?

[feficrecs]

Author: Myaru 

Rating: G

Pairing: Lucius/Raven; Chad, Lugh, Ray

Word Count: 6,341

Content Warnings: N/A

Summary: Lucius cuts his hair for the good of the orphanage children, and sets foot on a path leading to even greater sacrifice on the eve of Bern's war. Set after FE7, closer to FE6.

Reasons to Read: “A gorgeously atmospheric, refreshingly mature take on Lucius’s character, particularly his often overlooked firmness and devotion as a guardian, as well as his wavering doubts. Offers a rare, warming glimpse into his life at peacetime with the Araphen orphans.”

Excerpt: He couldn't stop touching his hair - pushing it behind his ears, running his fingers through it to the nape of his neck, where the ends made him itch. It was in the way more often now, Ray helpfully noted while they were bent over a wooden tub to do laundry; the wind swept it into his eyes, made it tickle his nose. Lucius scrubbed a mud stain, handfuls of blanket between his hands, rubbing, rubbing. The fibers bled red dye into the water. It never seemed to run out; a hundred washes after it had been donated, it still bled, clouding in the water like tea and ruining his robe with a dark pink tint around the cuffs. He had to pick it from beneath his nails - red dirt, like mud made of blood and clay. I hate red, he thought, worrying his lower lip in his teeth. I hate it.

Elimine did not teach hatred. Lucius was inured to blood. Where did that come from?