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no_true_pairTitle: Revolution
Author: Cephy
Fandom: The Last Remnant, Tales of the Abyss
Pairing/characters: David Nassau, Noir
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Prompt: The dangerously attractive Noir is not content with David simply scrubbing Noir's floors.
She waits until he's called to the city on some trumped up excuse, waits until he's striding with tight, angry pride away from her nephew's audience hall, and waylays him there before he can rejoin his Generals and have them close ranks around him. She calls to him, sees him twitch in surprise before he controls himself, and steels herself not to flinch when their eyes meet.
"My Lady," he says, with the perfect inflection and a textbook bow. "Your pardon, I was just leaving."
"Yes, I noticed that," she replies with a bit of a drawl, smiling as if to invite him to the joke. He doesn't take the invitation, and she sighs inwardly-- outwardly, her smile never falters, she's been in the game too long to let herself slip like that. "You don't seem happy about that fact."
That touches a sore spot-- his expression tightens just a fraction further, becoming ice instead of merely stone. "I am," he says, biting off the end of each word in sharp, perfect diction, "happy to do whatever the Duke requires of me, of course. You may tell him as much, as well," he adds in a moment of unexpected candor, angry heat cracking through the ice.
"I'm not here as his spy," she says, dismissive. "I merely wanted to speak with you a moment."
He is curious, she can see that much. Cautiously so, but he is too much his father's son to not at least find out her purpose in waylaying him. She suppresses a brief surge of triumph as his shoulders come square to face her. "Speak, then," he says, arms lifting to cross over his chest.
"Walk with me," she invites. "The walls of the castle are so stifling, don't you agree?" And so full of places for eyes and ears to hide, she doesn't say but knows he hears nonetheless. She takes his arm before he can protest, and after that he can't protest, because who would be so rude?
It is little traps like this that have allowed her to get as far as she has.
She takes them to the courtyard, a dry little place of clipped grasses and rock gardens, and allows him to steer her until they are far enough into it to be, for all intents, alone. "What did you wish to speak about?" he murmurs, fingers firm on her elbow.
"You want Athlum free from Celapaleis' thumb," she murmurs in return, bluntly. "I want the same for myself. We can help each other."
One golden eyebrow lifts. "And I should believe you're not trying to trap me into treason, why?"
"I had the ill chance of having been born with only slightly less claim to the seat of power than my cousin," she says plainly. "Never mind that I didn't want it, and still don't; there are those who would see me locked up rather than have the chance to start a struggle for power. There are those who would rather see me dead. I do not enjoy the notion of sitting here and embroidering cushions while others decide my fate.
"I have my own resources inside the castle." York in the kitchens and Urushi in the stables, ready to smuggle out the funds she's given them to hoard. "And I've already taken steps to ensure that I have a place for myself in the world beyond Celapaleis' walls." A distant valley, carefully investigated by proxy, to be home and haven for her and those like her. "But I need assistance getting out of the city. Help me," she finishes, "and I will give you all the information I can on my cousin and his court, and a pledge to assist you however I may when you make your bid for independence. And, of course," she adds, turning to face him and smiling in a way that had made many lesser men weak, "I would give you my-- sincerest thanks."
It wouldn't be the first time her body had been used to her advantage. She doesn't think he'll take her up on the implied offer but if he is, after all, the sort to ask for that-- at least he is handsome enough to make it more than just a necessity.
He is silent for long enough that she begins to feel the itch of doubt. "I suppose what I offer is not much, in the grand scheme," she eventually says, breaking the stillness. "But I have hoped that you would see the benefit of it. You must be tired of following in Celepaleis' wake, cleaning up our trail," she entreats.
She can see that pride right there in his eyes, the pride that would have his city stand tall and free on its own. He looks at her with those eyes and weighs her with a glance, while she can only hold her chin and her poise and look right back at him, unflinching.
Eventually, he breaks the look and turns away, steering them back towards the indoors. For a moment, she despairs.
"We are scheduled to leave at first light tomorrow," he murmurs to her then, barely more than a breath. "If I send someone to you tonight, can you be ready?"
"Yes," she breathes back, and with difficulty smothers back her triumphant smile.
Author: Cephy
Fandom: The Last Remnant, Tales of the Abyss
Pairing/characters: David Nassau, Noir
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Prompt: The dangerously attractive Noir is not content with David simply scrubbing Noir's floors.
She waits until he's called to the city on some trumped up excuse, waits until he's striding with tight, angry pride away from her nephew's audience hall, and waylays him there before he can rejoin his Generals and have them close ranks around him. She calls to him, sees him twitch in surprise before he controls himself, and steels herself not to flinch when their eyes meet.
"My Lady," he says, with the perfect inflection and a textbook bow. "Your pardon, I was just leaving."
"Yes, I noticed that," she replies with a bit of a drawl, smiling as if to invite him to the joke. He doesn't take the invitation, and she sighs inwardly-- outwardly, her smile never falters, she's been in the game too long to let herself slip like that. "You don't seem happy about that fact."
That touches a sore spot-- his expression tightens just a fraction further, becoming ice instead of merely stone. "I am," he says, biting off the end of each word in sharp, perfect diction, "happy to do whatever the Duke requires of me, of course. You may tell him as much, as well," he adds in a moment of unexpected candor, angry heat cracking through the ice.
"I'm not here as his spy," she says, dismissive. "I merely wanted to speak with you a moment."
He is curious, she can see that much. Cautiously so, but he is too much his father's son to not at least find out her purpose in waylaying him. She suppresses a brief surge of triumph as his shoulders come square to face her. "Speak, then," he says, arms lifting to cross over his chest.
"Walk with me," she invites. "The walls of the castle are so stifling, don't you agree?" And so full of places for eyes and ears to hide, she doesn't say but knows he hears nonetheless. She takes his arm before he can protest, and after that he can't protest, because who would be so rude?
It is little traps like this that have allowed her to get as far as she has.
She takes them to the courtyard, a dry little place of clipped grasses and rock gardens, and allows him to steer her until they are far enough into it to be, for all intents, alone. "What did you wish to speak about?" he murmurs, fingers firm on her elbow.
"You want Athlum free from Celapaleis' thumb," she murmurs in return, bluntly. "I want the same for myself. We can help each other."
One golden eyebrow lifts. "And I should believe you're not trying to trap me into treason, why?"
"I had the ill chance of having been born with only slightly less claim to the seat of power than my cousin," she says plainly. "Never mind that I didn't want it, and still don't; there are those who would see me locked up rather than have the chance to start a struggle for power. There are those who would rather see me dead. I do not enjoy the notion of sitting here and embroidering cushions while others decide my fate.
"I have my own resources inside the castle." York in the kitchens and Urushi in the stables, ready to smuggle out the funds she's given them to hoard. "And I've already taken steps to ensure that I have a place for myself in the world beyond Celapaleis' walls." A distant valley, carefully investigated by proxy, to be home and haven for her and those like her. "But I need assistance getting out of the city. Help me," she finishes, "and I will give you all the information I can on my cousin and his court, and a pledge to assist you however I may when you make your bid for independence. And, of course," she adds, turning to face him and smiling in a way that had made many lesser men weak, "I would give you my-- sincerest thanks."
It wouldn't be the first time her body had been used to her advantage. She doesn't think he'll take her up on the implied offer but if he is, after all, the sort to ask for that-- at least he is handsome enough to make it more than just a necessity.
He is silent for long enough that she begins to feel the itch of doubt. "I suppose what I offer is not much, in the grand scheme," she eventually says, breaking the stillness. "But I have hoped that you would see the benefit of it. You must be tired of following in Celepaleis' wake, cleaning up our trail," she entreats.
She can see that pride right there in his eyes, the pride that would have his city stand tall and free on its own. He looks at her with those eyes and weighs her with a glance, while she can only hold her chin and her poise and look right back at him, unflinching.
Eventually, he breaks the look and turns away, steering them back towards the indoors. For a moment, she despairs.
"We are scheduled to leave at first light tomorrow," he murmurs to her then, barely more than a breath. "If I send someone to you tonight, can you be ready?"
"Yes," she breathes back, and with difficulty smothers back her triumphant smile.