The Stench of Iron (Fire Emblem)

Stefan/Lethe support conversations. Stefan has a lot of things to correct Lethe about, though they do agree on one thing - laguz make far better mates than beorc do. Slight Stefan/Lethe later on, but not on C support level.

Lethe growled at the swordsmaster as he passed her.

“Yes?” Stefan asked, his face perfectly calm. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of introduction. My name is Stefan.” He produced his hand to her, though she clearly had no intention of shaking it.

“The stench of iron does nothing to mask you, Parentless,” she spat. “Remove yourself from my presence. You are polluting my air.”

The faint hint of a smile twitched on Stefan’s face. “I assure you I have no intention of doing any such thing. At the very least, not until we have this little misunderstanding cleared up.”

“Misunderstanding?” Lethe bared her fangs. “You would deny that you are one of the Parentless? Your putrid scent is proof enough.”

Stefan raised his eyebrows. “My, my…We seem to be rather narrow-minded today, wouldn’t you say?” His smile widened, only serving to irritate Lethe further. “If you must be so intolerant, you might consider at least using the appropriate terminology.”

“You are Parentless,” Lethe hissed, her fists clenching.

“You are ignorant,” Stefan said pointedly. “I may indeed be one of the Branded, as is the beorc wont to call us. I assure you most emphatically, however, that we are not parentless, despite this hideous laguz tendency to identify us as such. No doubt it is some farcical attempt to deny that you have anything to do with our existence. As it so happens, both my parents were beorc. I am not even the direct result of the relationships that you condemn.”

“Such abominations contaminate the bloodline.” The scorn in Lethe’s voice was evident.

“Yes, quite.” Stefan murmured something quietly to himself. “Tell me. What it is that you find so detestable about us? Beorc hatred I understand, given their religious nonsense, but laguz?”

“What self-respecting laguz would demean themselves by playing into the hands of humans? Only those too pathetic and weak to find a decent laguz specimen with which to mate.”

Stefan could not help but laugh heartily at that particular comment. “I see. So the problem you have is not with me at all, but with my laguz ancestor, who I expect has long been dead.” He reached forward and touched her hand. She flinched. “You believe that laguz mates are far superior to beorc. I can understand that sentiment. Indeed, I might agree with you upon it. Laguz have a certain…fierce beauty with which beorc cannot compete.”

“What are you--”

Stefan smiled. “Perhaps we shall meet again sometime. I would like to learn your name.”

The End

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