#ch: zenos yae galvus

[doomedyuri]

ZENOS "CAN YOU HURRY THIS UP SO WE CAN FIGHT ALREADY?" YAE GALVUS

[kingsroad]

— oh, to have been lured into a sweeter trap.

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 14 - Wallflower

“Good morning, Honey.”

Ever since he had learned of your schedule, Elidibus had elected to chat with you each morning for the duration of his stay. You found it incredibly strange, considering that you came from two different worlds. Nevermind that he was a government official, coming from Garlemald of all places was reason enough to have different ideals.

Garlemald was slow to step into a new era and join the rest of the world in democracy, clinging to an emperor until they were brought down by peer pressure. Their monarch had lost a majority of his power, but still had a large amount of sway over government matters. Elidibus was the true ruler, with a surprisingly low profile. You weren’t sure how to feel with someone so important deigning to eat breakfast with you nearly every morning…

Or that that fact had spurred Zenos to join you as well.

“Good morning, Elidibus.”

Zenos is never far behind, always seeming to show up right as Elidibus does. Dressed in his workout clothes, he towers over the two of you, his expression blank to the untrained eye, but it is the ever so slight furrow of his brow that hints at his annoyance as soon as ruby eyes meet crystal blue.

“Good morning to you as well, young Zenos.” Elidibus hums, a curious smile on his face. He sounds as if he knows something you do not, and truthfully that is a feeling you get from him any time he opens his mouth. As a result, you’ve tried to be as friendly as one can, while also taking anything he says at face value. “Joining us for breakfast once again?”

Zenos doesn’t bother to answer, merely strolling into the dining room. Sighing at his lack of manners, you trudge along behind him, hearing Elidbus’ footsteps follow close behind. You take your seat next to Zenos, knowing he would throw a fit if you even bothered to sit near Elidibus. He never tries to make conversation; he merely sits there quietly until you are served, only offering commentary if Elidibus seems to ask something he doesn’t like.

“Are you ready for today's events?” Elidibus asks, paying no mind to the maid pouring his coffee. A tray of cream and exactly two cubes of sugar are placed in front of him, complete with a delicate stirring spoon.

“What’s there to be ready for?” You counter, more than used to his prying. You had caught on quickly that Elidibus was the type to ask questions yet reveal nothing. Any attempts to know anything more than his favorite color were rebuffed with carefully chosen words or a query of his own.

“Oh nothing, we shall hope. The previous incident certainly has a lot of guests on edge…” he trails off, plunking the two cubes of sugar into his cup. With practiced hands he stirs, and you swear he’s somehow able to stir in a perfect circle.

“I’ve been informed that there will be extra security,” you comment, sitting back as the maid places your cup of apple juice in front of you. Zenos throws you a small sneer to which you arch a single eyebrow daring him to not let you have your one sugar fix. He stays quiet. “And as you have seen, I am more than capable of taking care of Zenos. Varis’ own guards will be at the gala to protect him, and I’m sure things will be fine.”

The “event” as Elidibus had mentioned, was a charity gala. You had taken a peek at the attendee list and saw all kinds of names: from singers like Cirina, to actors like Hildibrand. There would be no shortage of high profile names, and though you would only be given the opportunity to gawk, you were excited nonetheless even if you did your best to not show it. A part of you wishes it was you getting dolled up in an elegant evening gown, your hair and makeup done, hand in the crook of a handsome man’s arm or even a beautiful woman…

“Honey.”

You snap out of your daydream as your breakfast is set in front of you, blinking the imagery away. Zenos throws you an inquisitive look and you merely shrug him off, deciding to pay more attention to the plate of Dzo eggs and various fruits before you. “With the added security, I think things will be fine. It might be a bit awkward for celebrities to have to be escorted around by their bodyguards, but it is with their safety in mind.”

“Well put.” Elidibus thrums, smiling gently as he is served.

“Will you be attending, Emissary?” You ask, cutting your fruit into bite sized pieces. Your time at the table has allowed you more time to grow familiar with the cutlery, with Elidibus’ instruction. Much like Zenos, he was a surprisingly patient teacher, and you didn’t sense any condescension from him either.

That or he was great at hiding it.

“Attending the event? No, not this time. As a political figure, I have no business attending such an event, even if it is for charity.” Elidibus replies, dabbing at his full lips gently with a napkin. “An event such as that has long lost its luster for me anywho. If I did go, it would be to see your reaction to our world.”

You snort in a very unladylike fashion, having long lost any sense of propriety when Elidibus was around. “Not like I’m going there to dress up in a pretty gown and grab a couple champagne flutes myself. I’m going there for work, and work is what I’ll do.”

Elidibus lets out a rich laugh at that, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. “Well said from someone as dedicated as yourself, Honey. Young Zenos has little to fear with someone who focuses so hard on their duty by his side.”

You resist the urge to snort again, instead settling for a light shrug of your shoulders. “Someone’s gotta take care of him.” He clearly can’t do it himself, almost rolls off your tongue, but you bite it back, remembering that Elidibus does not see your treatment of the young heir. It had been annoying to be on your so-called “best behavior” around the Emissary, but at Zenos’ request, all insults and back sass had to be reserved behind closed doors.

And speaking of behind closed doors…

Zenos’ would stand there and take your insults in stride as he always had. The only difference now is that given the opportunity, especially in private, he would not hesitate to make some lewd innuendo in response.

“Could you focus you actual twelve year old--”

“I am focusing.”

You yelp as your feet are suddenly kicked from underneath you, back crashing hard into the floor. Even with your quick reflexes, the pain of your landing makes you too slow to roll out of the way of Zenos who comes to pin you in place. “It is not my fault if you can’t keep your mind out of the gutter long enough to prevent yourself from losing focus, my beast.” His hair whispers against your skin as he looms above you, ice blue eyes blocking out the bright, fluorescent light. “I never thought you so easily flustered.”

Your lip curls in indignation as you lie completely still beneath him. Zenos knows how to pin someone, his bulk be damned. If he wanted you to slip from his grip, he would let you. Giving him your own smirk, you arch your chest at him, not missing how his eyes dart down for the briefest of moments. “You wish I was flustered.” It is your turn to purr at him, taking note of how desire slowly creeps into his gaze.

He lowers himself, wisps of his breath trailing across your face. You’re not even sure if you’re still breathing yourself, truly going still underneath him. “And if I did?”

You give him a roguish grin, all teeth. “I make it a habit to not sleep with people I don’t like.”

He barks out a laugh at that, head canting back for a moment as his entire body shakes with the force of his laughter. As it abates, you swear the desire had mixed with reverence. “You will fight me to the bitter end, won’t you?” He sighs almost dreamily, a hand coming to cradle your chin, thumb running across your bottom lip. “Suppose I accept your challenge. What must one do to gain your affections?”

Your eyes widen before narrowing, positive he’s just yanking your chain. “Not being a fucking murderer would be a good start.” You deadpan, starting to feel your leg fall asleep.

“I am not a murderer, but an enforcer.” He tries, having the nerve to give a sheepish smile.

“Yeah. You enforce your will, through murder.”

“Semantics.” He waves nonchalantly, as if making light of all the men he’s killed is as simple a topic as the weather. “I do not enjoy the act of the kill itself. Quickly now; tell me what else.”

Your throat constricts without your warning, unsure how to feel about this line of questioning. “Nothing, you bastard, I hate you, what do you not get,”

He chuckles deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through you at every point of contact. “Oh, Honey...if I wanted you, I would have you.”

With one of your hands free, you waste no time socking him in the jaw.

The blow manages to rattle him enough given that you held back none of your strength. It shifts his weight just enough that you can push him off of you and storm out the room without another word.

Even though you know it’s Zenos’ status and bulk that has probably prevented anyone from telling him he’s an insensitive prick, it doesn’t stop the sting you feel in your chest from feeling any worse than it already does. His confidence was more exasperating than it was attractive, his self assuredness more irritating than it was sexy. You could not expect genuine feeling from someone like him--

Not ever.

With a sigh, you retreat back to your room, deciding to enjoy some time to yourself before the charity event later this evening. Thankfully it seemed like Zenos was able to take a hint, remaining blessedly absent for a few hours, or perhaps he went to go busy himself with whatever preparations he needed to do.

As you lounge upon your bed, your (Galvus Enterprises issued) cell phone gives a ring. Rolling across the soft top you snag it, giving it a quick look, beaming as you see it is a welcome caller.

“Heya, Ardbert!” You greet happily.

“Hey.” He responds in kind, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, the usual. Same shit, different day, you know?” You groan, rolling back to your original position on your back. You mindlessly wiggle your legs as you stare at the art on the underside of your canopy. “Just killing time before this charity event or whatever. You goin’?”

He snorts. “Like I have a choice.” He laughs. “These events are super boring. I’m charging my phone and tablet ‘cause I gotta stay out in the car for hours. Don’t even get to come in and get some free hors d'oeuvres.”

“No worries, I’ll make sure to shove some in my pockets to save for you on my way out.” You snicker.

“I’m sure the Flint Caviar will taste wonderful after sitting in your pockets for a few hours.” He jokes, sending the both of you into a fit of laughter. You sit and giggle for a few seconds, before both of you begin to settle down.

“So...you sounded a little down when you picked up. Anything wrong?” He asks. As usual, there was no hiding from Ardbert, and so there was no point in lying to him either. Besides, who else could you confide in and gripe to about your boss?

“It’s nothing really, just Zenos being his usual, bastard self.” You sigh, flopping your legs out. You had started to calm down but just thinking about what he said gets your blood to boiling again.

“Oh no. What was it this time?” Ardbert questions, his very voice a comfort.

“He keeps flirting with me. After telling me weeks ago that he wouldn’t ever make a move or be interested because someone has to keep things ‘professional’. But ever since I saved his ass, he can’t seem to help himself! He has no concept of personal space and has the nerve to make some shitty innuendo and turn around and make it sound like I should be lucky to have his attention!” You didn’t realize you had raised your voice until you could hear Ardbert shushing you through the phone.

“Sounds like he got under your skin real good…” He trails off, clearly unsure what advice to impart.

“Sorry. Usually he doesn’t, but just… I don’t know. He said that if he wanted me, he would have me and that just…”

It’s Ardbert’s turn to sigh into the phone. “Look, Honey. You are a wonderful woman. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Someone who’s smart and can kick ass. Just ignore him for now. He might keep you on a tight leash, but you still have your own life to live, yeah? Why not show him by getting out more? You said you should be lucky to have his attention. Why not show him what he’s missin’ out on?”

“Deny it all you like, my beast. You are mine, and mine alone, no matter how much you may hate me. Until you breathe your last breath, I never intend to let you go.”

“Yeah.” You reply, staring blankly at the canopy. “You’re right. Thanks Artie.”

“Oh? We’re doing nicknames now?” he chuckles, the sound filled with genuine amusement.

Ardbert’s pep talk puts you in a far better mood for the event later that night. As the sun sets on Hingashi, you don your freshly pressed and starched event suit, thankful that it is a new one and they’re not making you reuse the one from the hospital. Seeing as you’re not spending hours putting on makeup or trying to fit into a dress, you finish in record time, making your way to the debriefing room where Livia and Rhitahtyn await you.

Since the “incident”, they have shown a concern bordering on fear for you. It is not a concern for your mental health and well being because they care and want you to do well, but a concern where they fear saying the wrong thing will make you snap and cost them their lives.

Not that you know anyone like that.

Done with explanations, you grab your linkpearl and head to the garage where Zenos is waiting for Ardbert to pull up underneath the awning. Father and son step into the limo while the security team gets in unmarked, black cars, sunglasses on as they prepare for a long night. The drive is somewhat long, as you have to cross town to get the Rakusui Gardens, which is normally public, but has been closed off for the event tonight. Just seeing the hoards of cameras and paparazzi as you pull up makes you groan outwardly, waving away the driver’s look of confusion. With a shrug, they wrap up their job by pulling in behind the Galvus’ limo, the wheels having barely stopped as you open the door and hop out.

You find you’re thankful for the shades as they protect your eyes from the unbearable camera flashes. Livia beats you to the door as she opens it, the crowd going wild as Varis steps out first, followed by Zenos. He makes a sharp figure in his tuxedo, the obviously tailored pieces fitting to him like a glove. A wistful sigh escapes your lips without your realizing it as you sidle up to him, keeping fairly close as he strides down the red carpet behind his father.

The water of the pond reflects the many hanging lights from trees, and the glitter of jewelry. Already you can see notable figures such as the artist Alphinaud, with several of his pieces for sale on display. Environmental activist Kan-e-Senna catches your eye as well, her white gown accentuating her youthful features. It’s hard to not be a little star struck being around so many celebrities, and it’s only when Zenos clears his throat do you quickly turn your attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m allowed to look.” You hiss under your breath, throwing him a glare.

“Look, yes. Gawk, no.” He taunts, reaching to grab a champagne flute from a nearby waiter. “At least try to look like this isn’t your first time seeing the sun, and you, a blind man.”

You grab two flutes from the tray before the waiter can slip away and down both in one gulp for each. Were you not in public, you would throw them at him for extra measure, but instead place them down gently on a nearby table. “Finished?” you hear him ask, his voice betraying his entertainment.

“I could probably down a dozen more to have to deal with your insufferable ass tonight.” You grumble as you trudge back over to him, thankful your glasses shield your eyes and therefore, won’t betray your emotions.

“If I am so insufferable, why don’t you go scurry off then?” He asks, making his way through the crowd. Where most people would weave through the throngs of people, it was almost scary to see how people would just naturally move out of his way, even if they were deep in conversation.

“And have your father fuss at me for being out of arm’s reach? No thanks.” You snort, content with simply gazing at the lavish decorations. It was like being in a magical wonderland, and you couldn’t help but feel enchanted. “I doubt you want me handing your father’s ass to him to make the news.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He jokes, throwing you a sly grin. You try to ignore the way your heart stops for a second. “If you must stay near, then we might as well start our little charade.”

The charade, of course, involves talking to all manner of celebrities and making good impressions. Zenos is a surprisingly good actor; able to flip the switch of his charm to where he’s a different man entirely. People seem to be drawn to him like moths to a flame, not knowing danger if it stared them in the face. You had seen a few blush under his attention while the bolder would silently slip him their number. You grit your teeth as he palmed each one into a pocket, politely kissing the backs of hands and allowing casual hugs. Things he would never--

“Honey, get us a drink, if you would.” He orders and you take the out as soon as you’re given. So caught up in needing to get away, you temporarily forget your need to stay close to him for your job. You reach a table filled to the brim of various, rich foods, feeling a little lighter now that you’ve put distance between the two of you.

“You look like you could use something heavier than champagne, yeah?”

On full alert your eyes jump up to meet blue ones, preparing a retort before you realize these aren’t the same blue eyes you know. While cold, these have an almost jagged edge to them, much like the silver hair framing the man’s face. Pointed, Elezen ears peek out from the snow white locks, the tips a rosy red. Thick, strong eyebrows are furrowed in a scowl, with lush lips pulled into a frown. “Are you done staring?”

Snapping from your stupor, you have the decency to mumble an apology and avert your gaze. The stranger scoffs and reaches inside his coat. Your instincts go on high alert, a hand of your swiftly moving to reach for his wrist before it is intercepted by his other hand. Your eyes widen at the man’s quick reflexes, to which he simply arches a single eyebrow. “Calm down. I’m just trying to help you. I know who you are.” He pulls out a simple, silver flask, giving it a shake so you can hear what must be liquor sloshing inside.

He flexes his hand around your wrist, and you realize he’s waiting for you to go slack. “Well? You want some?”

Still wary, you release the tension you had been holding, and he lets you go. “Only if you tell me who you are.”

Tutting, he twists the cap off the flask and takes a long sip. Smacking his lips with a smile, you can smell what is a strong bourbon on his breath. “Only if you tell me yours. Name’s Estinien.” He holds out the flask once more. “Last time I’m gonna ask.”

Taking it from his hand, you stare at it for a moment before quickly taking a gulp. The bourbon burns, but in a silky smooth way. High quality bourbon apparently. “I’m Honey.” you return, giving his flask back to him.

Grunting his thanks, he twists the cap back on in one turn and shoves it back inside his blazer. “Bodyguard to the Galvus heir right?”

Biting your lip, you wonder if he’s just digging for information, or genuinely making small talk. “Oh come on, I’m trying to make conversation here. Not like you weren’t all over the bloody news a few weeks ago.”

Huffing, you cross your arms defensively. “I am here on business you know.” You do your best to maintain a neutral expression, but something about his gruffness knocks you off balance.

“So am I. You think you’re the only bodyguard stuck here?” He questions, arching a wintry brow. “I’ve had my eye on you ever since you got here. I’m free to roam wherever the hell I want; so long as I keep boss man in sight.”

At his comment, your eyes search out Zenos in the crowd, able to find him easily as he towers over the majority of them. He’s still winning over whatever woman he’s with at the moment, and for the most part, safe, so he doesn’t need your attention still. “Considering the last time I went out, my client was nearly killed. Forgive me if I try to hang a bit closer.”

“Apology accepted.” Estinien grins roguishly and your face goes up in flames at how good it looks on his handsome features. “Aside from that disaster, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you. Seems like he keeps you on an equally tight leash, huh?”

Reaching for what looks to be some sort of fish on a nearby table, you pop it into your mouth to bide some time to figure out a crafty answer. “He keeps a low profile compared to his father. Everyone knows who Livia is, right?”

“That bitch? Who doesn’t?” He snorts, leaning back against the table. His rough demeanor has you warming up to him rather than feeling pushed away. Maybe something was wrong with you… “Anytime I’ve tried to talk to her, she’s had a stick up her ass. But I’m not surprised. All the Garlean bastards do.”

Oh, you two would get along just fine.

“You’re definitely a better conversationalist than I’ve heard here tonight.” You compliment, to which his grin grows. You find yourself girlishly amused by his antics.

“Well, not like I got anything else to do tonight ‘til I can go home. Might as well and try to find someone interesting to talk to.” His handsome grin hasn’t left his face, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Keeping Zenos in your sights, you remain there by the table, unsure of how much time passes as you continue to talk with Estinien. Guests come and go, art is sold, and the trays slowly empty as the night wanes on. You can’t remember anyone making you laugh as much as Estinien had, as he shares some of the happier blunders of his youth. You wonder how you can ask for his number without being so...obvious.

“Making friends Estinien?”

Turning, an older man (or is he younger?) strolls up to you two. Dressed in his own tuxedo, he shares the same frostbitten hair as Estinien, though that is where most similarities end. Far shorter in stature, a pair of goggles sits on his forehead, his jawline covered by a well groomed beard. Something about him seems familiar...you’ve seen his face before.

“You’re the one who told me to go mingle, Cid.” Estinien drawls, suddenly prickly as a pear.

“Cid?” Your eyes widen as you take in the stockier man before you. “As in Cid nan Garlond? Creator of Ironworks?” You gasp, unable to keep the stars from your eyes.

He gives you a warm smile. “The one and only. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”

Shyly, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “My name is Honey, and I’m the bodyguard of Zenos yae Galvus.”

His eyebrows shoot up for just a second as he glances at Estinien. You miss Estinien give a curt nod to Cid. “Oh, is that so?” His hand fishes into his pocket for a brief second before he extends it in an offer to shake. As you clasp your hand with his, you feel cardstock beneath your palm. As your eyebrows arch in confusion, he gives you a wink. “It is not often we get to meet on...kinder terms with our competitors.”

“Kinder, Garlond?”

Quickly releasing his hand you spin to find Varis has somehow snuck up on your little gathering, usual frown in place. His hair is neatly braided down his back, tuxedo accentuating his figure just like his son’s. Cid gives Varis an innocent smile, one that shows no fear. “Of course, Galvus. After all, you are such a fierce competitor and as such we haven’t been able to speak as companions. I was merely commenting on the novelty of meeting an employee of yours that was not so...abrasive.”

Varis’ frown deepens, clearly unsatisfied with Cid backhanded comment. “She is certainly more...docile than others in my employ. However, I have heard of her ferocity.” You flinch as Varis places a hand on your shoulder, wishing desperately to move away. “Did you have a reason for talking to my bodyguard?” You swear you can feel bile rise in your throat.

Cid still smiles, betraying nothing. “Personally, no. I had seen her speaking with my own bodyguard here, and was curious who he had found to chat with. She was a new face as far as I could tell. We had just finished introductions when you had arrived.” Varis’ cold, golden eyes slide over to Estinien, who looks like he’s one hair away from telling him to fuck off.

“I see. Perhaps your own bodyguard could benefit to learn from her.” Varis comments to which Estinien starts to open his mouth before Cid places a steadying hand in front of him. Estinien huffs as he casts a murderous look at the Galvus patriarch.

 “That actually sounds like an excellent idea, Galvus. Would you be opposed to Honey coming over to see what Estinien is lacking?” Cid proposes, pressing firmly on Estinien who throws him an exasperated look.

Varis considers him a moment, looking between you and the Ironworks CEO. Giving your shoulder a firm squeeze, he speaks, “An agreeable idea, Garlond. Since she is so much kinder, as you have said, perhaps this can be the start of coming to more...agreeable terms with one another.” Varis finally releases you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Excellent. I will have the two exchange information. Until next time, Varis.” He nods, at the much taller man, before turning to you. “And to you, Miss Honey,” he holds out his hand to which Estinien places a glossy, blue card in it. Flipping it over, he whips out a pin from inside his blazer and scribbles a number down. “Please take this. This should have Estinien’s contact info so that you may reach him and organize for your meeting at a later date.” Taking the card from him you give him a slight bow and a murmur of thanks. “I believe it is time for us to start making our way home. Good evening to you both.”

You watch as the pair stride away, taking a moment to glance at the business card you were given. Estinien Wyrmblood is printed in elegant lettering, complete with his contact information. You can still smell some of his cologne lingering on it, finding it pleasant.

“Do not dally on meeting with them.” Varis cuts into your thoughts, causing you to turn to him. One brow of his is upraised as he looks down at you, though with infinitely less disdain than you had met. The way he looks at you makes you uncomfortable being belief, wishing to be anywhere else but here. “I certainly do not know Garlond’s motives, but you will be useful in figuring out what they are.”

Furrowing your brow at him, your cross your arms in defiance. “I’m a bodyguard, not a spy.”

“I am aware. However, this is the first time Garlond has ever entertained ‘building a bridge’. You will simply need to act as you normally do. Meet with this Estinien; see what happens.”

He smirks just as Zenos strolls up, lips curled cruelly.

“That is an order.”

[whittertwitter]

WoL/Zenos in a nutshell.

[sforzie]

Chapters: 44/44 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light Characters: Aymeric de Borel, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Alisaie Leveilleur, Zenos yae Galvus, Estinien Wyrmblood, Lucia goe Junius, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Alphinaud Leveilleur Additional Tags: Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi-Classed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Warrior of Light is a Milf, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, post 5.0 canon divergence, pre 5.3 lore, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Needs Therapy, Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Established Relationship, Marriage, Infidelity, Infidelity Doesn't Always End the Relationship, Smut, Penis In Vagina Sex, Past Lives, Soul Bond, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Multiple, Flashbacks, The Echo (Final Fantasy XIV), Lost Love, Unintentional Polyamory, Combat Violence, Hey Zenos Did Not Consent to Being a Vessel, Zenos yae Galvus Has Feelings, But he's still Zenos, Idiot as a term of endearment, Halone Help Me This Will Have a Happy Ending Summary:

With the trials of the First completed, a weary Warrior of Light is ready to go home to her family. But the troubles she left behind on the Source are still waiting for her... namely, her dedicated hunter, Zenos yae Galvus. A new set of trials await the Warrior of Light as she struggles to keep the peace in Ishgard, her love life, and her self. [Shifting PoVs: Warrior of Light (Summer Ruby), Aymeric de Borel] --- Ch 44: Ishgard, for now, is safe and sound, under the [loving] protection of the Warrior of Light. [[STORY COMPLETE]]

[starcunning]

This Beast That Rends Me: 5 Apr

Hi I obliterated my word count target for the day but I still wish I could have done more. See you tomorrow!

Previously: 1 Apr, 2 Apr, 3 Apr, 4 Apr

Chapter Three

The sky—her sliver of it, anyway—was leaden gray in the morning. Her calves ached, a bone-deep feeling that satisfied more than troubled her, but stretching took most of it away. There was a carafe of coffee awaiting her on the table, and propped against it an envelope of vellum. Both were black.

Shasi poured herself a mug, tail twitching behind her as she drank, and then she took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. The seal on the back was gold wax, stamped with a pair of scales. That didn’t surprise her, but she finished her coffee first.

Lieutenant Kilntreader, the letter inside read, Under most circumstances even results would not spare you the indignity of a court-martial, but Ul’dah has done enough harm to the name of the Scions. So says the Sultana, who has ever counted you a friend. If I were you, I would do nothing that would jeopardize that friendship, nor the friendship between Ul’dah and Ala Mhigo, even with our home restored to us.

Although we have declared a general moratorium on your briefings, you should be permitted to know this: the interim leadership council of Ala Mhigo has been selected. It is their intent to serve the will of the people—the same people Zenos yae Galvus kept beneath his heel. That he yet lives is not common knowledge, or there would be rioting in the streets. Learn what you can from him, but do not expect him to survive.

Included is a questionnaire on matters of critical import. Of especial interest are the “Populares” mentioned in your conversation with Urianger Augurelt. You may submit your report in writing. You are under no circumstances to break the terms of your sequester; the Echo is the only thing that keeps you on an even footing with him, but its unpredictable nature precludes your contact with anyone holding sensitive knowledge.

I trust you will remember what it is to serve.

For Coin and Country, General Aldynn

Shasi frowned, flipping through the pages of the questionnaire, committing them to memory. The room felt cool, and she shivered. Whatever relief was to be found in Raubahn’s letter, it was tempered by a sense of foreboding. But this was the bargain she’d struck, and now had to fulfill. She could delay it a while—another cup of coffee, and then she’d make ready for the day and go find a megalith board—but X’shasi had learned better than to think she could shirk her own destiny.

She could smell the petrichor from the menagerie even within the glass walls of the greenhouse, a few of the windows canted so that the air might circulate. She had dressed more formally, in a coat of slate blue and dark trousers—there had been, for a moment, the temptation to come in uniform, but that had seemed unwise. The game board was folded under one arm, tucked against her elbow.

The Viceroy’s head was already turned toward the entryway as she approached, and the lift of his chin betrayed his attentiveness, but when he rose he did not look directly at her. He loaned his robe an air of formality despite the simplicity of his garb: the same indigo yukata she had seen him in weeks before.

“Eikon-slayer,” he greeted her. “Viceroy,” she said in turn. “No,” he said, “you have taken that from me.” “What should I call you, then?” Shasi asked. “As my friend, you might call me Zenos. Come,” he said, “sit.”

The table was set below a chandelier of crystal. With no candles, it simply refracted what light it could snatch from the air around them; in the wanness of the morning it was little enough. He waited for her to sit first, and she found herself recalling he was royalty after all, and schooled in some manner of courtly graces.

“You found one,” he said as she set the megalith set between them. “I had to bribe a quartermaster,” she said with a sly little smile. “Somehow I doubt that.” She turned it around on the table, lifting the latch on one side to open the casing. “They’re all Ul’dahn, don’t you know.” He regarded her a moment, and as she laid the case open to reveal the pieces stowed away, he plucked one up, running a nail over the carved stone. “Aren’t you?” “Yes,” she said, sorting them by color. “And no. I was born in the mountains of Gyr Abania, but I barely remember it. Then it was southern Thanalan, but I don’t recall that either. Perhaps my memories are hazy enough that it all looks the same to me.”

She pushed the marble pieces across the table at him, flipping the case over to reveal the playing board of inlaid stone on the other side. “I thought you would play light,” he said with a tight little smile. “I thought you might like to represent the ivory standard,” she countered. His laughter filled the airy room then. “Perhaps I might. Well,” he said. “Your Princeps goes here, on his own color.” He set the piece in place with a decisive motion.

Soon, the board had been arranged, and the pieces and their movements explained.

“White plays first,” Zenos told her, those long fingers plucking up a piece to advance. “Just as well,” Shasi laughed. “Is that how you see it? Is acting not better than reacting?” Shasi could only shrug at that, tentatively moving one of her pieces in turn. “You know the game better than I. At least I have the benefit of observation.” He shook his head, that smile still tugging at his lips. “Eventually, observation and reaction can carry you no further, and you must round on your foe and act,” he said, removing a piece from the board. “But you know this already, eikon-slayer.” “I thought we were friends. Zenos.” “It is a compliment,” he said. “In its way.” “From the rest of the Empire I might believe that,” Shasi agreed, propping her chin on a loosely curled fist. “Not from me?” “I don’t think it impresses you overmuch,” she told him. “Don’t overextend,” he told her. “You’ve left your castrum vulnerable. When did you come to Ul’dah?” “As a girl,” Shasi said. “I was perhaps five summers old then.” “With your tribe?” “No,” she said. “Why do you want to know?” “Call it a personal curiosity,” Zenos told her, leaning in to move a piece across the board. “You must have a curiosity of your own,” he said. “Several,” she said, capturing one of his flanking pieces and plucking it from its place. “What do you know about the Populares?” “I said ‘of your own,’ he reminded her. “This one, I think, comes by way of your Scions.” “Perhaps,” she said, “but I have a personal interest. We know of the Empire by their exclaves—the castra that Gaius van Baelsar established after the Calamity, and the provinces you have conquered. I have only the smallest inkling of what the heart of it is. It snows there?” “Often,” he agreed. “The winters there are bitter. Exile was bitterer.” “Like Ishgard?” she wondered. “Coerthas was blanketed in snow after the Calamity, but Garlemald has always been swathed in white,” he said, moving his Princeps back to a more fortified position.

“I have to give them something,” Shasi said, “and I do want to know.” He sighed. “The Populares are exactly what their name implies,” he told her, watching as she picked off one of his supporting pieces. “They are populists. My great-uncle was their champion. Whether they survived him I couldn’t say. It seems unlikely any would reveal themselves to me.” “Because you are your father’s son?” “Am I?” he asked, fixing her with a tight lipped smile. He drummed his fingers against the board. “He never seemed to think so. Because I am a Legatus, X’shasi. A military man. So yes, in that, I am Varis’s son. I am Solus zos Galvus’s great-grandson. They concern themselves more with internal matters than conquest, so I am beyond the remit of their trust.” Shasi heard the regret in his tone, and told him so: “So perhaps Varis was not wrong to doubt your loyalties. What could they offer you?” “He was,” Zenos said, snatching back one of his pieces angrily. “It was van Baelsar’s journals that changed my mind, and I did not read those until I arrived here.” “What was in them?” Shasi wondered. “A great deal,” he said. “Half a decade’s observations of Eorzea. His collaboration with the last ‘Warrior of Light.’ Musings on the primals,” he said, nudging a piece into place. “And you.” That surprised her, and she looked up into his face. He was smiling at her, an indulgent sort of expression. He continued: “He admired you, in a way. I suppose he would have made you regent. It would have made things much simpler, don’t you think?”

“That’s not something the Populares could offer you,” she said, feeling her jaw tighten. “No, but they could have offered it to you,” he said. “An end to Garlean expansionism? A different approach to the problem of the eikons? Tell me that holds no appeal for you.” “I don’t think you’re so terribly opposed to your empire’s expansion,” she said mildly, pressing forward to take another piece. “No more than you are opposed to Lominsan expansionism,” he agreed. He must have seen how it stung her, for he lifted his fingers from the piece he had been toying with and made a less threatening move instead.

A less obviously threatening one, anyway.

“So now you know something to tell your masters.” “Later,” she said. “I did promise. And if it had been any less dire a portent before, I would not have gone then.” “This Elidibus occupies you greatly,” he noted, lifting one of his discarded Legatii to examine its form. “Are you afraid of him?” Shasi swallowed, glad his gaze was elsewhere. “Yes,” she said. “You never seemed to fear me.” “No,” she agreed. “I knew your reputation ere ever you came to Rhalgr’s Reach, as it seems you knew mine, but even then … I was not afraid.” “You knew me,” he said flatly. “My mentor had spoken of you, once or twice. As a thing of unholy terror. But … it was not so long before that I chanced to see myself through another’s eyes, and I was no less a horror than as had been described.” He chuckled, a low, rolling purr that seemed to spill over the table between them. “So you were not afraid because you thought you had my measure, as I was sure I had yours.” “No, I was not afraid because I wanted to take your measure,” she said, darting a piece forward with a small smile. “Why not take his?” Zenos wondered. “He’s an emissary,” she told him. “I could no sooner harm him than, say, a prisoner of war.” “A pity,” Zenos said, plucking up one of her pieces to set his down in the square. “I have you,” he told her. “No, you don’t,” she said, diverting a piece to her defense. He looked at her a long moment, a crooked smile upon his features. “So your hands are bound,” he said. “Little as I like it,” Shasi shrugged. His smile only broadened. He leaned in, took her castrum, and set a fingertip to the crown of her Emperor. “I have you,” he reiterated, and toppled the piece.

Shasi cursed. “Well, I suppose at least I have the comfort of knowing you weren’t holding back.” “Have I ever?” he asked. “Dine with me tonight. That seems an appropriate forfeit.” “I didn’t know we were dictating terms,” she said. “What if I’d rather write a letter to my masters, as you so disdainfully call them?” He pouted, an oddly boyish expression bereft of the anger she had expected. “How disappointing,” he said. She looked at him, reaching down to roll the Emperor beneath her fingers. “Do you know what your life is missing, Zenos?” she said. “Challenges, I should imagine,” he drawled. “Yes,” she agreed, sweeping the pieces from the board. “Just not the ones you mean.” “Oh?” “You don’t hear ‘no’ nearly enough,” she said, turning the board back over.

“X’shasi,” he said, reaching out to take hold of her wrist. His grasp was gentler than expected, his fingers rough with a swordsman’s calluses, but surprisingly warm. She looked down at his hand a long moment, where it lay against her skin. “Please,” he said. “Please what,” she prompted, her voice steadier than she might have feared. “Please come and dine with me this evening.” She waited, not looking up into his eyes. In the face of her indifference—feigned though it might have been—he capitulated. “Not because you owe it to me, or because I’ve won it from you. Come because it pleases you to do so.” She nodded once. “I will return for dinner,” she said. “For now I should see to other matters.” He let go of her wrist, but she lingered over the task of putting away the megalith pieces, rising only when she was sure her knees were steady.

[doomedyuri]

ZENOS YAE GALVUS IN THE FINAL FANTASY XIV: ENDWALKER TRAILER

[doomedyuri]

Zenos Yae Galvus in the FINAL FANTASY XIV: ENDWALKER Teaser Trailer.

[kingsroad]

i made a sad vent video of all of my favorite jerks.

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 27 - The Things that Made Us

It was hard to keep your stress down when you were planning to try and expose the biggest crime boss the world has ever known.

There’s hardly a moment Merlwyb isn't throwing you a concerned glance at the first sign of you getting worked up as you, her, and Cid sit around a big table filled with papers and photos. Empty sugar and cream packets that have gone into about three or four mugs of coffee. Half eaten snacks ranging from croissants to a bag of chips from the closest gas station (which given that Cid was rich and lived outside of the city, was quite far).

While you appreciate her worry, you’re near ready to pull your hair out as a result. At the first sign of you raising your voice, she places a gentle hand on yours reminding you to calm down. When you reach for a mug of coffee, she bats your hand away with a stern look. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear Zenos had put her up to it.

“I’m going to go crazy, Cid.” you confess, collapsing on a couch in his office, finished with another day of planning. Three heads were admittedly better than one, especially when one of them was a genius. “It’s like she thinks I’m made of glass despite being undercover for nearly a year with the worst gang the world has ever known.”

Cid lightly chuckles at that, having grabbed some dried calamari to snack on as he finishes up a few things in his office. “I think it’s her way of trying to take care of you, given that she feels she failed you so miserably.” Even though the statement is loaded with truth, Cid delivers it with a warm smile.

You can’t help but feel a little bad; Merlwyb was probably taking you under her care because she knows Raubahn would do the same.

“Cid, I came to you to vent. Not for you to make me feel bad.” You pout, kicking weakly at the cushions before rolling to face him as he settles in his desk. “I hope she doesn’t feel obligated to take care of me.” You murmur softly, barely a whisper as your heart fills with melancholy.

Settling in, Cid turns on his computer and begins to work. “It might be partly obligation. It might be repayment. But do those things matter?” he asks, giving you an inquisitive look. “Would you rather have her apathy and scorn?”

Shaking your head, Cid nods, typing away at his computer. “I know that it is something you struggle with, Honey, to accept a person’s affection. But you should try it sometime. You might be surprised at what you find.”

You can’t help but feel like a little kid around him sometimes, some worthwhile lesson always falling out of his mouth. You tell him as much. “Would it kill you to be wrong for once?” You joke, tossing him a lazy smile.

“I’m afraid it is my job to be right at least ninety-nine percent of the time, or I'd be up to my ears in lawsuits.” He laughs, having not stopped typing for a second. “You should get some rest, my dear. I’ll be up for a while yet.”

“Shouldn’t you sleep?” You return, sitting up to throw him a scrutinous look.

“Unless you’re able to pull a few strings I didn’t know about, and also prepare enough tech to take down a corporate super giant…” Cid trails off, looking as if he’s to start packing up.

“I get it, I get it, sheesh.” You groan, standing to your feet. “I think I will go to bed if it means I’ll actually get to be right, even if I’m by myself.” You huff, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure.

“You need it, growing babe be damned.” Cid smiles, pausing his work to see you off. “You’ve worked damn hard for us up until this point Honey. Let us return the favor.”

Giving him a heartfelt smile, you wave good night to him and head out the door, reentering the hallway. The night is quiet despite the fact an uprising looms on the horizon. Somehow it seems both close and far away, the idea that things would finally come to a head, sides would be taken and long buried truths would finally come to light.

These twilight hours were your only time of peace, a few sacred hours before you needed to wind down for bed before Zenos woke you up to train in the morning.

Your feet have carried you to him before you realize it, finding him meditating in the indoor garden. You watch him silently from behind the glass, the rising and falling of his chest, eyes closed as he finds his center and stays there. One of the few times he looks tranquil and genuinely at peace, and given the small glimpse you had of his personal life, of his past, perhaps it served more than just the purpose of calming his body.

Maybe his spirit needed it as well, though he would never admit it.

Jolting as his eyes suddenly flick open and land on you, you can’t help but be mildly embarrassed for staring so blatantly, and for so long. Thinking to shy away and meander down the hallway to go somewhere else (preferably far away), he’s already uncrossed his legs and stood, briskly walking to catch up to you before you can even get a fulm down the hall. “You are done for the day.” he observes, his long legs allowing him to catch up to you in no time at all.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re wrapping things up I suppose, or at least there’s nothing more I can do but wait.” You grumble, a little put out still despite Cid’s earlier words. “What have you been up to?”

“I’ve little to do, by your side.” he responds, voice surprisingly neutral.

“Do you miss...being in a gang?” you ask hesitantly, the two of you slowly walking wherever your feet take you. He seems to be following your lead rather than the other way around, and his slow stride suggests he’s not in a rush to go anywhere else except near you.

“No, and not for reasons one might think. I was apathetic toward my father’s bidding. Whatever his lackeys did, whatever shipments needed securing, it was all beneath my notice. My only concern was for the thrill of battle. Of storming hideouts and searching for new opponents.” He rumbles, the timbre of his voice vibrating in his broad chest. “In a way, I do miss the feeling of wondering if I would find a suitable opponent...the anticipation that would most times lead to disappointment...or joy.” Smirking, he gives you a burning look. “However, I’ve not felt that since meeting you.”

Huffing, you stick your tongue out at him. “Careful, that sounded almost romantic.” you groan, giving him a playful shove. Looking to your feet, you both are silent for a moment until you speak up again. “Sometimes I miss being a cop.”

He arches a brow at that, brushing a stray hair from his face. “Why would you miss such a…” he pauses as he searches for the right word. “...restrictive job setting?”

“I miss helping people. Or at least, feeling like I was helping people.” You answer, realizing you had somehow found yourself in the kitchen. Cid learned to keep some of your favorite snacks stocked here due to your frequent visits in the past. “I miss my friends, I miss my apartment, I miss just…”

“You miss your old life.” Zenos responds for you, taking the words right out your mouth. Once again his voice is neutral, giving away nothing, but he won’t let you see his face when you turn to gaze up at him.

Fumbling for the right words, you wring your hands together. “Let’s eat some ice cream.” You smile, buying you some time to think. You’re moving to circle the island in the middle of the kitchen before he can stop you, heading to the cabinets to reach for some bowls.

“Ice cream is unhealthy and full of unnecessary--”

“Zenos yae Galvus, if you do not get me two bowls down, I will gut you.”

He shudders at your threat and you can’t help but roll your eyes that only he would even get off on what is supposed to be a playful bluff. So what you could back it up? Though it was probably that very fact that excited him.

Doing as told he grabs two bowls for you, silent as he watches you move around the kitchen like you’ve lived here before. A familiarity that only comes with being welcomed into one’s home. You grab the spoons and point him toward the bar stools at the island, Zenos obeying without protest as you wrench the freezer door open and pull out your favorite Rolanberry ice cream.

You grab a heated scoop (specifically engineered by Ironworks technologies) to easily serve you and Zenos both, returning the ice cream to its place in the freezer before sliding Zenos his bowl and spoon. He looks at it questioningly as you sit down, diving right into your own ice cream. “This looks as if it was purchased from a...commoner store.” He sighs, poking at it questioningly.

“It was. Because I asked Cid to get it from a grocery store.” You reply, not missing a beat as you help yourself to another spoonful. “Hurry up and eat it before it melts.”

“Do you fear asking Garlond for higher quality sweets?” he asks, deciding to try a taste for himself. The face he makes shows that he is less than impressed and you can’t help but giggle at it.

“Not at all. This is just an ice cream I would eat a lot with Minfilia when I was a kid.” you answer, the uttering of her name not stinging as much as it used to. Maybe now that you had realized her captor, her killer, and that you were finally about to avenge her as you had promised, made it sting a little less.

Zenos is silent still, seeming uncharacteristically quiet. A little unnerved, you decide to answer his earlier question. “I do miss my old life. I miss my friends, Y’shtola and Lyse. I met them toward the end of high school. My truest friends. I haven’t talked to them since I told them I’d be going undercover to try and get close to you.” You muse, stirring your melting ice cream slightly before spooning it in your mouth.

“I miss my apartment. Even though it’s been nice never running out of hot water, having five star meals every day, sometimes I miss my shitty, little space. The tub with the terrible caulk job on the edges, the one panel on the blinds that would always break and never stay fixed. The spot on the carpet that wouldn’t come out after I spilled soda on it, no matter how hard I scrubbed.” You laugh thinking about it all, wondering if all your things had been kept safe.

“Sometimes I miss just feeling...normal.”

Though he says nothing, you can see Zenos’ brows furrow at the statement, smiling a little at his confusion. “I don’t know the specifics of the Resonant but up until...someone told me of the Echo, this whole time I thought I was ‘normal’. I thought I was like one of those Olympians, you know? That I was just really strong and had crazy fast reflexes. It never occurred to me that I was...something else entirely.” You murmur sadly, scooping a spoonful solemnly into your mouth.

“I remember so little of my childhood. It feels like it happened in short bursts. A period of just moving from place to place, until Minfilia took me, and ran away. Then there were the years with her, in bits and pieces, and then...nothing.” Finishing our ice cream, your vision unfocuses, as if staring at nothing. “Suddenly, as if I was just waking up, I was getting ready to graduate high school with my friends and joining the police force to find my mother’s killer.”

Looking up at Zenos, he stares back, but with an unreadable emotion on his face. Maybe, not necessarily unreadable, but as if he doesn’t know how to express however he’s feeling. “If you told me that I’d land myself in the lap of my mother’s killer and fall for his son two years ago, I wouldn’t have believed you.” You laugh bitterly as you finally make your way to the answer he sought. “But...as hard as it’s been...as painful as this has all been...I would never take it back.” You smile at him warmly, watching as his jaw clenches. “I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you otherwise.”

He is quiet still after your confession, and though he doesn’t say it back (part of you doubts he ever will), you are content knowing that you know he cares for you in his own way, by the gestures of how he cares for you. As he seems content to stew in his thoughts, you silently hook your finger on the rim of his bowl, dragging it toward you slowly while meeting his eyes in question. He only gives you a weak glare, but says nothing else, and you go ahead and drag it to your side of the counter and begin to eat his share of ice cream.

“The Resonant is a result of my blood.”

Looking up, you hadn’t expected him to speak. He looks uncomfortable, guarded, wary. “My mother was like you, a descendant of an Ancient. From what I understand it is rare for descendants to be born so closely together. The bloodline is passed down, but not every soul manifests its power.” He explains, toying with the ends of his fine hair, as if in a long buried, nervous habit. “To this day, I do not know what powers my mother had, just that she was unlucky enough to be caught by my father, and forced into his bed to create me.”

Frowning, you abandon your extra ice cream and reach across the island to place your hand on his. He jerks away from the contact initially, giving you a withering look, but at the look of genuine worry on your face, he curses under his breath. Returning his hand to the counter, he faces his palm upward, allowing you to clutch it with your own, running your thumb on his palm in nonsensical patterns.

“When I was born, I had shown no initial signs of ‘success’. No visible powers or abilities that would show that the bloodline of the Ancients could be used to create powerful offspring. It is why I am an only child. My father initially deemed it a failure and saw my mother as useless.” He continues, returning the motions of your fingers drawing patterns on his skin, focusing on where your hands are joined as he tells his story.

“This did not mean my father had given up hope of course. For all his airs of being a ruthless businessman, he is still a man of science. He never quit his experiments with aether, and drained every last bit of info from my mother he could until she finally ended her own suffering.” He ground out. Even as he crushed your hand within his quite painfully, you didn’t breathe a word of pain, not wanting to break this fragile moment.

“The majority of my youth, all I had known was testing at the hands of my father’s scientists. As young as ten years old, I had become well acquainted with the feel of needles, bright lights, cold rooms after my studies. I had rebelled in my youth of course, by using the power of my wealth, my prestige. I slept with anything that walked. Harmed anyone who dared cross me. It wasn’t like we didn’t have the money to pay the lawyers for it.” he sighed, his grip on your hand relaxing a bit. For a moment he is quiet, drawing patterns on your skin.

“It wasn’t until my early teens that my father’s best scientist finally had a breakthrough.”

His free hand reaches for the collar of his shirt, tugging it down forcefully to stretch the fabric more than it was intended. You see the beginnings of his tattoo, parts of the scales and talons that make up the dragon lurking beneath. “Aulus mal Asina...an eccentric most would call him as far as science goes. But it was just that sort of eccentricity my father needed after losing Midas nan Garlond to his own experiments.” Releasing a bitter laugh of his own, Zenos mumbled something underneath his breath before continuing. “He had proposed this tattoo.”

Even though Zenos’ focus has not left the sight of your hands twined together, as if it is the only thing grounding him in reality as he retells his life’s story, he goes on as if sensing your confusion. “Your power, the power of the Ancients, comes from that tattoo on the back of your neck. Or at least, that is the theory Aulus acted upon. Using this strain of thought, he made aether infused ink and put this dragon upon my chest, activating dormant blood...activating what he would call the Resonant.”

You can feel your own throat begin to close up, as you struggle to not shed a tear at how horribly Zenos had been treated. It was no wonder that his view of life was so incredibly warped, with a dad that was more concerned about turning his son into some sort of supernatural being than being there for him.

“It was also the last I had seen of Aulus. For when the Resonant activated, I had no control. It had felt almost like an out of body experience…” he trails off, a note of excitement creeping into his voice, but still he maintains his bitter expression. “I had...murdered anyone in the room with me in cold blood.” He sighs, hazarding a glance at you. Much like him, you keep your expression neutral, giving away nothing, deciding instead to scream from the inside.

“It took several tranquilizing darts to take me down. It was then I was put into my training to control the Resonant.” He rests the weight of his head on his free hand, still clutching your hand in his, drawing more random patterns on your skin. “The exhilaration I feel when in control of the Resonant cannot be compared. To be so fast, so strong, I had become obsessed with using it at any opportunity. It was then I became obsessed with the thrill of the hunt.” His eyes finally meet yours. “I had told you already how I would give myself impossible odds to fight against, until one day the thrill stopped.”

Something about that statement finally makes you meet his gaze, standing on the precipice of the unknown once more. “Do you still love me now? Even after all the monstrous things I’ve done? The people I’ve killed?” He questions, voice taunting on the surface, but you know better. Know him better than that.

You can hear the resentment that his father twisted him into the pained man he has become.

The bitterness that despite being rich, powerful, attractive, nothing would change how warped he felt inside.

The anguish that at this moment, he had bared his soul to you, let you see who he is in full...and that with his past now bared to you, you could leave him.

“Am I not any different?” You ask, clearly throwing him for a loop.

“You have only started maiming when I,”

“No, I haven’t.” You cut him off, your hand clutching his for comfort this time. Your vision goes dark around the edges as a long buried memory tries to dredge its way to the surface. “I don’t remember the details. Nor would I ever want to...all I remember is a sea of red. A knife in my hand. And dead bodies littering the floor because I was too late to stop them from taking Minfilia.”

Your breath begins to come fast, too fast, and Zenos snags you by the chin, forcing you to look at him, to acknowledge he is real and with you and you’re not standing in a pool of blood in this very moment.

“Gods help me, Zenos, did you think you could scare me away?” You laugh even though you tremble as you do so. “At this point who else could want a freak like me?”

You see something in his eyes, the spark that maybe he felt the same. That somewhere deep within him he craved love just like anyone else, no matter how much of his life he spent convincing himself the opposite. That he wanted to hold and be held, to kiss and be kissed, to experience the affection and adoration and care that he doubtless saw the many people around him experience over the years.

Of course he would fuck anything with legs. It was mostly likely the only time he got any sort of physical contact that wasn’t him being experimented on. The only time he knew someone wanted him.

Standing to your feet, you intend to do just that. You release his hand only long enough to circle the island and come to stand between his legs as he still remains seated upon the bar stool. Even sitting he’s still fairly tall.

Reaching for his hands, you bring them to loop around your waist, your arms effortlessly sliding underneath his own to hug him close. He seems unsure what to do for a moment, until his embrace eventually tightens, clutching you close, burying his face in your neck. “It could only be you, too.” You whisper, breathing him in. Your eyes flutter closed, wrapping yourself in his scent, his touch.

“There could never be anyone else.”

“It’s almost time isn’t it?”

Merlwyb glances at you from the corner of her eye as the two of you make your way to the conference room in Cid’s home.

“That it is.” She responds, hands clasped behind her back, turning her gaze back down the hall. “While we are certainly pushing the envelope in dethroning His Radiance in a timely fashion, it is good that we are getting it done at all.”

Nodding, you find that you agree. Though you were definitely cutting it close, it’s good that something was being done to knock this bastard down several pegs.

As you enter the conference room, Lord Hien is already on screen speaking with Cid as they converse about whatever particulars of the plan to take on Varis and expose him for his crimes. Zenos is there as well, arms folded across his chest and looking everywhere but the other two men, and you would go as far to say he almost looked as if he was pouting.

You’d hoped he would seem a little more enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, but through every meeting he sat quietly and neutrally, as if he couldn’t even be bothered to even feel a little bit angry by the plans being made to take down his father. You knew both Cid and Merlwyb were upset by his unwillingness to be involved, only placated by the fact he was not against them either.

You had described the horror of the Resonant to them, the sheer power and speed he displayed. You knew without a doubt Varis had kept his own son as a trump card, knowing of his killing capabilities. You had effectively taken Zenos from his hand by your “relationship” making taking him down much easier in theory.

You shudder to imagine what would happen if you had to go in a toe to toe fight with a Resonant activated Zenos.

Best to not think on it now. Not when it's time to focus on more certain things: like how you’re going to break into Varis’ compound.

“Hello everyone. Sorry I’m late.” you greet with a small wave, even to Hien displayed on the large monitor.

“Nothing to be sorry for. We weren’t talking about anything important. Wanted to save that until you got here.” Cid beams, giving you a welcoming smile. You give him a warm one in return, only able to ignore Zenos’ insistent stare for a little while longer before you throw him a reproving look, which does nothing but cause him to smirk back. Rolling your eyes, you move to sit in the chair beside him, clearly annoyed, but to all in the room it might as well have been foreplay.

“Ahem, well,” Cid coughs, angling himself at the monitor Lord Hien is displayed on as Merlwyb takes her seat beside him. “Since you’ve been here for the majority of the meetings, there’s not much new to say, except going over a few finer points.” Cid begins. “Lord Hien?”

“Yes, yes.” The handsome man nods, eyes turning to you. “The entire operation hinders upon the success of bringing down Varis’ research facility. While we could simply get video or picture proof, we do not run to the risk of him trying to cover up his tracks. We know he has been smart enough to play several hands over the years; there is no reason to not think he has no back up plan should someone see something they aren’t supposed to.”

“Or worse, he launches the technology to have a direct attack on the public. As you have told us before, he has already begun to develop weapons using this technology. We can’t bear the risk of him holding any more civilian lives hostage. We must cut off the source, and then we can handle any other weapons after.” Lord Hien’s voice is clear and concise, serious and awe inspiring. A true leader, you think, unable to not feel a little dazzled by him.

“That said, the day of infiltration, I will go into hiding. Varis has been content to let me live this long, but I would not put it past him to have some way of keeping an eye on me. Though I am capable of disappearing, he will no doubt notice this, and also notice something is going wrong.” Hien continues, threading his fingers together as he levels you with a serious gaze.

“While I hate to pressure you any further Honey, especially given how much you have done for Kugane so far, still I must ask, are you unable to recall where to find the research facility?” He asks, and all eyes in the room are upon you.

Fidgeting, you stare hard at the fine wood grain upon the table, hands fisted in your lap. “No...I don’t.” You sigh, feeling defeated. “The one time I had gone, I was so confused at where he was taking me, I didn’t think to pay attention to my surroundings. Even leaving, I had been so shocked at what he showed me, what he had told me--” you shudder as suddenly you remember the feel of his grimy hands upon you, pulling upon your clothes, his twisted words at how he would have you…

Zenos places a hand over the palms over your lap, expression giving away nothing. Nodding, you take a calming breath. “I was too distracted to take notice. Did none of our research efforts bear any fruit?” you ask, looking from one set of eyes to the next, begging that one of them will say yes.

They look back at you just as defeated, no one willing to make eye contact with you for a heartbeat. Clearing his throat, Cid speaks up. “Alas, even my most advanced sensors couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I have no idea where it could be.”

The four of you twiddle your thumbs as you try to figure out what to do. Everything was ready to go. You could end this. Only you were too stupid at the time to remember something as simple as where the hell the secret laboratory was. You felt like you could smash a brick into your head.

Under the haze of your regret you can hear the others begin to talk again, perhaps discussing places they hadn’t thought to check, or avenues they hadn’t bothered to try. You tune it all out, unable to do anything aside from letting your own failure resonate inside you.

Resonate…

“Zenos.”

The room is quiet in an instant as you flip your hands over and clutch Zenos’ tightly, watching as his eyebrows reach for his hairline for a split second before they pinch together. “Zenos. I know we...I know we talked,” you offer vaguely, squeezing his hands that much tighter. “But please help us. We can put an end to this--”

“I told you I couldn’t.” He growls, his voice cutting so sharply, eyes so furious that you feel yourself recoil under his stare. But you knew this was bigger than you, and he had to know this too.

“Why won’t you help?” you plead, face breaking up as you watch a million emotions flit through his blue eyes. “Don’t you want to be free from your father?”

A shadow of something crosses his face, eyes unfocused as if lost in his own mind. He snatches his hand from yours as he comes back to himself, silent as he stands from his chair and stalks out the room. “Zenos!” you call, hurrying to your feet as he ignores you and flings the door open, uncaring that it slams into the wall. “Zenos!”

Following him, he’s once again halfway down the hall, deja vu urging you to catch up with him just as you had done that catalytic night at the hotel so many months ago. “Zenos, please,” you beg, trying to catch him before he rounds the upcoming corner. You don’t expect to be startled when he suddenly turns on his heel and snags you by your arms, nearly slamming you into the closest wall where he can loom over you menacingly.

You wish you didn’t feel so small before him during these times, especially now that you know how much he’s been hurting. “Zenos please, why won’t you help? Is it because of me?”

“Why would it ever be because of you?” He asks, his anger vanishing for a moment as he gives you an almost hopeless look. “I am saved by the very fact that you exist.”

“Then why?!” You whimper, trying to break out of his iron grip even as he grips your arms tighter. “Is it because the cause is too noble? Is it because you can’t go against your father?”

“Noble? What is noble about wanting to get revenge for your fallen friend? That still makes you a murderer, or have you forgotten?” he snickers darkly, ice blue eyes piercing directly into your heart. However you’ve known him too long. Long enough. Long enough to know that Zenos answers almost anything he is asked. That he doesn’t deflect, he doesn’t ignore you.

“Your father...what did he do to you that you can’t raise a hand against him?” You whisper, hating as you can see you’ve hit your mark when he goes stock still. His fingers are almost crushing in their strength, but you pay them no mind, needing to get to the heart of the matter. “Zenos, whatever it is, you don’t have to fear him--”

You cry out as he nearly throttles you into the wall, the sclera of his eyes almost bleeding black. “You know not of what you speak.” It is whispered so lowly, so vehemently, you can’t help but shiver in fear.

“But I want us to be happy.” You cry, tears leaking down your face, wanting to somehow get through to him. “I want you to be free from him Zenos, for us to be free. Forever--”

“Nothing is forever!” He nearly roars, but instead of maintaining the ferocity he had kept until this point, he couldn’t sound more shaken. “I cannot raise a hand against him. I cannot...I can’t. Not against my father.” he murmurs softly, though his grip has not decreased one bit.

Thinking quickly, you try to reason with him. “But I can.” you urge, praying that he will listen.

He barks out a hoarse laugh at that, fixing you with a derisive sneer. “Then what? Shall we both rot away in solitary confinement for our crimes?”

Whimpering, you wish he would just let go of you so you could hold him. “Chief Raubahn said I had immunity while on my mission,”

“Good for you.” He laughs again, leaning into your space. “And what of me? Do you think they’d be willing to overlook all the men I’ve killed? The things I’ve stolen and cheated for? Will your chief be willing to turn a blind eye to the monster I am?” he laughs maniacally, eyes flashing red for a brief moment before his expression becomes unfeeling. “I would sooner die than rot in prison, unable to fight.”

“Zenos,”

Dropping you, he doesn’t bother to grab you as you crumple to the floor, turning his back on you. “You are all fools to think you can even touch him.” Even at his scathing tone, you can see the haunted shadow that falls across his face, wondering just how much shit did that asshole put him through? What fucked up mind games did Varis play to have his own son that could snap him in half be too afraid to stand against him?

“I do this for you,” you cry, suddenly feeling exhausted, gazing up at him desperately. “I’ll fight ‘til my dying breath that they don’t lock you away. I refuse for us to not be together.” Tears begin to genuinely leak down your eyes now, even as you hear Merlwyb call your name as she rushes down the hall, surely ready to tear Zenos a new one. “Please...help us.” you beg, watching as he wars with himself, hating that he had gone through too much trauma to cause this hesitation. This fear.

“Honey!” Merlwyb calls as she crouches beside you, checking you over. Glaring angrily up at Zenos once she deems you unharmed, she stands back to her full height, nearly eye to eye with him. “You better have a good explanation, Garlean.”

Unamused and not intimidated in the least, Zenos scoffs, turning his back on the two of you. “Of course I do, savage.” He sighs, eyes still covered in shadow. “The facility is on the outskirts of the city, to the west. You cannot find it because my father has made it imperceptible to nearly all manner of tracking technology.” You watch as his shoulders sink, as if a heavy sin has suddenly put all its weight upon him.

“If you wish to find it, it is hidden under the guise of being a warehouse for father’s technologies, which is why the government has never investigated it. The true work is done nearly malms underground. If you truly wish to end my father as you so claim...reach the bottom of the facility. If you have someone smart enough to activate the shut down sequence, you can end his entire operation.” He pauses and reaches inside his shirt through his collar, pulling a chain with a key attached from underneath. “This will let you pass through any door.” He explains, dropping it to the floor.

He gives one final glance at you before walking away. You sit there broken, wondering how he could possibly turn his back on you. After getting on your knees to beg him to join you, to save the both of you from this nightmare. Even though you see a glimmer of regret in his fierce, blue eyes, it doesn’t stop him from walking down the hallway, into the darkness.

“Good luck.”

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 16 - A New Home

“Again.”

You groan as you peel yourself off the floor, after unceremoniously crashing down hard on your back. “Why are we even doing this?” You growl, picking yourself up once more. “What is this even teaching me? If you’re trying to show you’re a colossal asshole trust me; I know that already.”

Zenos stands nearby, arms crossed, eyes somehow colder than usual. “What other reason do I need aside from because I said so?” Something about him has changed; has become more rigid, more closed off. Not that he was ever necessarily open with his feelings, just…

Something has changed.

It is especially noticeable on the weekends, because those have now been freed up for you. Zenos remains at home to do work while you head over to the Garlond estate.

He was mad about it, you were sure. His father was making him share his toys. You thought he'd at least get over it like three weeks ago. Instead, he refused to rise up to your banter, and he no longer fought to get a rise out of you. He had become cold and unfeeling, apathetic, barely treating you any better than any of his other lackeys.

Sighing, you wearily shake your hands in an effort to limber them up again. Carefully, you handstand, abs flexing with the effort to find your balance. Keeping your center was proving oddly difficult, your body working itself in ways it had not previously. Your arms shook momentarily as you fought to keep steady, slowly willing yourself to control your breaths. Shutting your eyes, you find your center, muscles stabilizing as you hold yourself in place. The world slowly melts away until all you can feel is the whisper of air conditioning across your stomach, hear the thrum of the mini fridge in the corner of the room…

See Zenos’ fist make a beeline straight for your abdomen…

You choke out a wheezing breath as his fist still makes a solid hit on your stomach, having made your arms go lax to drop you to the floor. The momentum of your fall has you drop onto your back, barely having the breath to roll out of the way as Zenos’ foot comes down where your head once was. “Zenos, what the fuck,” you snarl, quickly hopping to your feet, bringing your arms up in defense. He looks apathetic still, face emotionless and for a moment you feel something akin to dread as your stance weakens ever so slightly. “Zenos,”

“Do you think in a fight that an opponent won’t take the chance to strike at your most vulnerable part?” He asks in that condescending manner, sounding entirely too much like his father.

Entirely too much like when you first met.

“I thought we weren’t working on combat,”

“We are always working on combat.” He drones, and though his voice is without feeling, the weight of his words is oppressive all the same.

“Then you should be a little more fucking clear before we start!” You snap back, dropping your fighting stance. “Fuck this. I’m through here.” You don’t even bother looking him in the eye as you move to walk past him and out the door. Before you can even make it an ilm behind him his hand has whipped out and snagged your arm in a nigh deathgrip, slowing your circulation. Your eyes drop to where his hand has encircled your arm, veins sticking out in some places, before sliding up to meet ice blue eyes. “Let. Me. Go.”

“You will leave when I allow it.” He states, as if you had no choice in the matter.

“Zenos yae Galvus,” you begin as calmly as possible, “If you do not let me go within the next three seconds I will have you on your ass so fast you’d think it impossible.”

A spark flashes in his eyes; it's not fear, but something else. It's gone as fast as it came though, replaced by underlying stubbornness and sheer loftiness. “I’d like to see you try.” He scoffs, to which you narrow your eyes at him.

“You and I both know I am the better fighter. Do you want me to kick your ass?” You question with a smirk, flexing your arm in his hand. “Does the sadistic psychopath have a thing for powerful women?”

“You flatter yourself. I would--” He scoffs, but his three seconds are up and you twist yourself out of his grip to sure enough knock him flat on his back with your foot on his chest.

“I do flatter myself. Because I’m worth flattering.” Stepping off him, you make your way to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a pointy eared bastard.”

The door clicks softly behind you as you make your way back to your room to shower. If Zenos wanted to act like a jealous cunt, that was good as well as long as he didn’t take it out on you like some sort of child who didn’t learn how to properly communicate his feelings.

Showering, you make sure to use that same floral scent you started using over a month ago; the bottle is nearly empty now. And even though its effects don’t last long due to you immediately going into a heavy training session not even an hour after, it's still worth the few seconds you see Estinien’s nostrils flare and his eyes glaze over with muted desire. Pouring a generous amount on the loofah, you rub it along your body, focusing on the sensation of it gliding across your skin. Your sight focuses and unfocuses as you clean yourself up, gazing at old wounds, old cuts and tears.

Such ugly, ugly skin.

You were not without your own insecurities. Who would love such imperfection? Who would ever turn your way with all the scars you have? How would he ever--

Grunting, you turn the water as cold as it will go, shocking your system as your teeth begin to chatter. It scatters your thoughts enough that you can turn off the spray and step out, yanking the towel to wrap around your chilled body. Your thoughts are formless as you dress in fresh workout clothes. Some snug yoga pants and a tank top to go over your sports bra. Picking the choker up from your dresser, you fasten it around your neck, quickly forgetting its presence. Grabbing your bag, you head to walk out the door.

Your Lalafellin driver assigned to you awaits you outside, and you give him a wave as he holds open the backseat door for you. Stepping inside, you finally relax as he starts the car and pulls off from the estate.

The ride across town is not nearly as boring anymore, or at least it feels shorter now that you have been enough times. You usually text Ardbert during these rides, where you can chat about anything and you know your conversations aren't being monitored as closely. He's been incredibly supportive besides, happy to see you hanging out with someone much nicer, even if it wasn't fully your choice to do so. You had questioned why Varis actually agreed to continue your visits, but Ardbert advised you to not look a gift horse in the mouth and be happy he let you leave at all.

That made enough sense you supposed, though a small, inner voice told you to heed Zenos' words, that his father was a man with ulterior motives…but what were they?

I'll think about it later, you thought, seeing the Garlond estate come into view. The gate was already rolling open for you to come inside, the driver pulling up beneath the awning as usual. Your car had become a familiar sight at the estate, the security guard waving with a smile as you roll by. Grabbing your bag, you step out of the car and wave to your driver who waves in return and pulls away to leave until you call for him.

Walking through the front, you feel almost like you’re here on a friendly visit, not spying on the enemy. Sweet air conditioning welcomes you as you toe your shoes off at the door, slipping into your designated guest slippers. You had been given your own personal pair, which you had refused at first, but Cid had insisted. It was weird because he acted almost fatherly, but had no known children of his own, or even siblings, nieces, nephews to spoil.

“Ah, Honey, you’ve come a bit early!”

Turning around, you halt your trek to the backyard that leads to Estinien’s quarters to instead greet Cid. Just seeing him somehow brings a smile to your face. “Good morning, Cid.” You beam, giving him a small wave. He’s dressed semi-casual, sporting some simple khaki slacks and a powder blue button down. His goggles are present as usual, situated perfectly over his third eye.

“I had to send Estinien on a bit of an errand earlier; he might be a bit. I hope you don’t have any other business and mind a little bit of a wait?” He asks, already turning down the hall. After spending enough weekends coming over, you know that is an invitation to walk and talk with him.

“No, no other plans for today. I surprisingly have a pretty free day for once.” You laugh, following just behind him. He slows his pace to match yours, walking side by side with you.

“Good, good. Otherwise I would’ve prepared lunch for nothing!” He chortles, giving you good smack on the back. You wince only slightly; while incredibly rich, Cid is a man who still isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and as a result he’s got some mean arms.

Walking into the kitchen, the smell of what seems to be pork wafts toward you. Sure enough, you watch as he makes his way to a nearby oven in the wall and pulls out two plates of perfectly, pan seared pork chops. Your mouth waters immediately, and even though you had already eaten breakfast before your training session with Zenos, you suddenly found yourself starving.

“Please, please, take a seat.” He offers, setting the plates down on the nearby island which seems to also serve as a makeshift bar-style table. Pulling a stool out, you take a seat as you watch him pull out two wine glasses from the rack overhead. Like the rest of his home, it is very modern in design, all light, powdery colors and big windows. “I hope you can hold your liquor enough that a little wine to go with our meal won’t affect your sparring later?” he asks, reaching for what is an obviously expensive bottle of red wine.

“No, I can hold my own well enough.” You laugh, setting your change of clothes down on the kitchen floor nearby. The food looks and smells delicious. The porkchop is paired with what looks to be oven roasted popotoes and sauteed greens. Just before you can grab a fork and knife and dig in, Cid is pouring you an almost generous glass of wine and drizzling your porkchop with, “Gravy?” you fail to hide the disbelief in your voice.

“Yes of course. Tell me, why the face?”

“I haven’t had gravy in so long,” It takes great care for you not to dig into your meal like some sort of barbarian, though you are on the edge of your seat as you wait for Cid to sit down so he too may eat. “I am kept on a very...limited diet.”

His brows furrow concerningly at that. “You are not starved are you?”

“No sir, I don’t mean limited like that.” You assure him, giving a nervous laugh. “What I mean is I don’t get to eat a lot of fatty foods; my meals are strictly nutritional. However, even my chef will occasionally risk his job to sneak some extra salt or cheese into my meals even at the risk of being found out by his employers.” You giggle, already imagining Lyngsath’s boisterous laugh in your mind’s eye.

You miss the split second Cid’s expression remains worried for one second longer before easing into something more neutral. “Yes, well...tell me Honey...do you enjoy your time at Galvus enterprises? Are they a good employer?”

You prepare to open your mouth but suddenly the weight of your choker feels heavy on your neck. Unconsciously, your fingers reach up to press against the cool metal, fingering the ruby of the Garlean logo betwixt two fingers. “I enjoy my time there. Some days are harder than others--”

“Honey.”

Looking up, Cid stares back with a serious expression, sapphire eyes gazing at you deeply. “I have known for a long time Varis has sent you to spy on me, and I have long since pinpointed that your choker records our every word. It is why I have worked to formulate this device actually,” he reaches under the table and pulls out what looks to be some sort of strange, robotic beetle. “It took a lot of tinkering, but it is capable of taking the words we are saying at this very moment and fabricating them into some arbitrary nonsense. Varis has some wonderful technicians in his employ sure, but I think it's safe to say that even ten of his best could hardly hold a candle to me.” Placing the small beetle on the table, you watch as it scampers around cutely. With a smirk, he cuts into his porkchop. “You are safe here, Honey.”

You are safe here, Honey. The light of the Mother Crystal will watch over you.

Tears well up in your eyes almost immediately, your hands dropping your utensils to quickly wipe at them. “Oh bother, I hadn’t meant to make you cry,” Cid grumbles, standing immediately to grab a cloth napkin from a nearby counter.

“No, no, it's not your fault,” your voice cracks as the dam finally breaks, your shoulders sinking as you finally release months worth of unshed tears. Suddenly, the weight of your sins comes bearing down upon you in this moment, your body jolting as one of Cid’s strong arms comes to wrap around your back in a comforting embrace.

How long has it been since someone had hugged you…?

After a minute or so, you manage to get yourself together enough that you can finish your meal. “I’m so sorry,”

“No, no, it seems you needed the cry.” He assures you, chewing on a piece of his food.

“I just...I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been able to talk without worry that someone was monitoring me. Without fearing that anything I could say, be it good or bad could be used against me. It’s so...freeing.” You sniffle, once again picking up your knife and fork.

“Then I have achieved my goal.” Cid replies, giving you a warm smile. “After all, you know the Ironworks slogan don’t you?”

Meeting his smile, you think for a moment. “...Freedom through technology?”

“Thatta girl.” He resumes eating his food. “Now tell me. Just how do they treat you over there?”

“It is...less so about the way they treat me and more so what I am made to do…” You trail off, cringing as horrid memories enter your mind.

“If you do not wish to elaborate, I will understand. It would not do to dredge up anything uncomfortable for you.” He urges, quickly refilling your glass. Paying no mind, you take a large swig of it, enjoying the light burn of alcohol going down your throat.

“They are...dark things. Horrid things.” Is all you say, deciding you need another sip of your wine. “This porkchop…”

“Made it myself.” Cid beams proudly, taking a bite of his own.

“You cook?” You ask, genuinely surprised. The meat is flavorful and juicy, well seasoned though you would prefer it a little saltier for your own tastes. The potatoes are well roasted, though some have a few overly crisp edges. The greens are that little bit of extra salt you were looking for, tying the meal together.

“As a hobby. I would say even I get tired of tinkering and making gadgets, but somehow I can never stop myself from optimizing my cookware when I'm making a good roast." He laughs, pouring himself a second glass of wine. "Besides, it is much more impressive to guests."

"I'm impressed just from the fact you deign to cook your own food. Varis would never do something like this; he sees work such as this for the help…" you trail off, finishing off your popotoes.

"I'm not surprised. Varis has always looked down his nose not just at people who were not Garlean, but those in a different tax bracket as well…" Cid sighs. "I've known Varis for quite some time, when we were both younger than we are now. My father was already a renowned engineer in Garlemald; it is not as if I had more humble beginnings. No, it is because of my father I was able to meet Varis."

"You make him sound...important." You say slowly, swallowing down a piece of pork.

"That's because he is." His tone is serious now. "He couldn't hide his money, his affluence, but he could hide his lineage." He sets his fork and knife down, gently dabbing at his lips with his napkin. "He is royalty."

You nearly drop your own at that. "Royalty?"

Cid nods gravely, taking a sip of his wine. "My father was a personal engineer for the Galvus family. Varis, however, was only the third son, and therefore not entitled to the throne even if it was posturing with no real power in congress. This gave him the opportunity to play himself off as a mere distant relative despite bearing the Galvus name."

You let that sink in, staring emptily at your plate. You knew so little of foreign affairs that you never put two and two together that he shared the name of the Garlean royal family. "But why,"

"On the surface, I'm sure it is to be his own person, and also to distance himself from his homeland to pursue his ambitions." He refills your glass, but you barely take note of it, knowing another glass will edge you towards tipsy. "I understand it, in a way. I too, wanted to separate my own ambitions from my father; from the cruelty he committed in the name of the royal family."

"But how was he able to leave an entire royal legacy behind?"

"The family simply denounced him back." Cid shrugged.

You mull over that for a few seconds, thinking on his words. "And what do you mean… by...cruelty?"

Cid fixes you with a stern look, silent for many moments. "I have never shared this with anyone aside from a close circle of friends; I trust you understand the need for confidentiality?"

You nod solemnly, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the wine feeling appealing once again.

"I will not unload a lot of information on you at once...but Varis is far crueler than you could possibly imagine." He whispers. "The majority of my fathers experiments were at Varis’ behest. I could no longer support my father's endeavors and left to start my own company." Standing to his feet he grabs your plate and moves to place it in the sink. "Somedays still, it pains me that I could never reconcile with my father…"

"Can you still not? Is he no longer in Garlemald?" you ask, fisting your hands in your lap.

Reaching for the faucet, he runs water over the dishes, staring at the water as it goes down the drain. "He was killed by one of his experiments about three years ago now."

Your heart aches for him; you never would have known. You don’t even remember seeing it on the news at all. "Cid...I'm so,"

"No, no...no need to apologize." he chuckles lamely, picking the bones from the sink to toss in the trash and activating the garbage disposal for the rest. "I have long since made my peace with my regret." Grabbing the plates, he opens the dishwasher door and stores them inside. "I know not what horrors that tyrant puts you through Honey, but know this…"

Rounding the island, he pulls your hands from your lap, and cradles them in his own. "You will always have a home here."

The sincerity of his words makes you tear up again, fresh tracks running down your face as you giggle miserably. "I have not thought of having a home for some time..." You warble, wiping your tears on your arms. Cid reaches to grab you another napkin, smiling at your small murmur of thanks. “Thank you,”

"Hey, I thought hosts were supposed to be courteous to their guests."

Both of you turn to the furthest kitchen entrance, finding Estinien standing there in a rather nice suit instead of his usual training gear. He has his usual scowl, but you can see evident concern as he stares down Cid.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that. She is crying now, but if I wanted to woo her, Hydaelyn knows you wouldn't stand a chance with your prickly self." Cid teases, seemingly unable to help himself.

"Who said I was--" Estinien bursts before taking a calming breath. "Don't you have...I don't know a company to run?" he sighs, clearly knowing that getting riled up will only serve for Cid to tease him more.

"Yes, yes, I can see when I'm unwanted. I will whisk myself away. What is the furthest place in my home, I wonder? Perhaps the sun room, or the home theater…" Cid drawls, listing off the many rooms in his large home. “Also make sure you take the omega device with you Estinien!”

Snarling, Estinien grabs your bag from the floor (and swipes the poor beetle from the counter) and storms off. Giving a quick bow and a shy wave, you leave a laughing Cid behind.

Estinien takes a minute to catch up to with his long, Elezen stride, but you are now familiar enough with the grounds that you don't have to worry about getting lost if you fall behind. "Silly man, oof," You titter to yourself, only somewhat paying attention to where you’re going.

You hit a warm and hard surface, a hand snatching you by the wrist to steady you. "Silly?" Estinien echoes, arching a winter dusted brow.

Face heating, you give him a teasing look. "Of course. Have you seen yourself?" you snort, trying not to shiver as his thumb rubs small circles on your inner wrist.

"You've been drinking." He states, gently releasing your hand. Though his tone is disproving, you’ve learned to read the truth beneath the truth and spot a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes.

“Or...Cid is a rather generous host, you should say.” You huff, moving past him to continue down the hall. Hearing him sigh behind you, his footfalls follow your own as you exit the main house and cross the grounds to his little corner of the estate.

“In that case I think it would be fair to say you are in no state to do any kind of sparring.” He says with a click of his tongue, watching as you toe off your guest shoes at the door. Dropping your bag to the floor he does the same with his own, placing them in a nearby cubby. Despite his gruff appearance, it never ceases to amaze how homely and welcoming his place is, all warm lighting, and soft edges. There’s a slight rustic feel to it, possibly caused by how a lot of the furniture is wooden and the walls covered in stone accents, hailing to his Coerthan heritage.

“How did you come to be here? From Coerthas I mean.” You blurt out, running your hand along the wall as you follow him through to the living room.

He’s stopped moving, his hand hooked around his tie. His expression is unreadable even to you for a few moments, before it eases into veiled pain. “I wanted a fresh start.” He tugs forcefully, loosening it from around his neck.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t apologize.” He cuts you off, throwing you a biting look. “Stay here, I’ll change.”

Reaching out for him, you stop him in his tracks, meeting his blue eyes with your own. “Are you changing to spar?”

“Is that not what you came here for?” he questions, arching a strong brow. His hand feels so much warmer in your own, but you do not feel a chill. In fact, you feel so warm yourself, and perhaps that wine Cid gave you was a little stronger than you thought. You suppose you should’ve expected as much from rich people alcohol...

“I...don’t know.” you murmur, releasing his hand slowly. You plop down on the couch, head full of so many thoughts; too many. Why were you here? If you came to spar, by all means you should’ve never drank at all. You were no lightweight, but that didn’t mean your body was immune to the slowing effects of alcohol. It's why even if you did grab a flute of champagne or two at an event where you were escorting Zenos, you paid careful attention to how much you were consuming. Your mind was still very clear, though. You never got drunk or even tipsy if you could help it.

Why did you feel so at ease here?

“What did the old man talk to you about?” Estinien asks, seeing that you are clearly lost in thought. He starts to undo his cufflinks, placing them on the coffee table just in front of you. He shrugs out his blazer, draping it gently over the back of the couch. The distance he sits away from you brings a giggle out of you; it is just far enough to be deemed respectable, but just close enough to push the boundaries of friendship.

“Old man?” You question, throwing him a smirk, to which Estinien gives one in return.

“He hates being called that. Told him if he just went clean shaven he’d age down about a decade.” He snickers, laying his right arm on the back of the couch. You watch as he fully relaxes into it, even going as far to kick his feet up on the table.

“He...told me about how Varis is a lot worse than he seems on the surface.” You admit quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap. A sense of foreboding came with that knowledge; you felt it in your very bones. Something much bigger than you was heading your way, and you had to wonder if you were too late to stop it. “Funnily enough, Zenos had warned me too. Said that his father is worth fearing, even if I do not fear Zenos himself. That if I ever wanted to be free of this hell, that even leaving country might not be enough.” The exhale you give is weighed down by how defeated you feel. “It's been just over a year now...I’ve not seen my friends, I have no clue if they know I’m all right. I’ve not been able to contact...my old coworkers at all. Its like I’m living a totally new life.”

You gasp as Estinien’s warm touch glances just beneath your eye, wiping at a tear before it could fall. You freeze in place as the waterworks start again, except you find you cannot sob. Both for the strange reason in that you feel unable to blubber and wail once again, and also because you could never weep openly in front of him. “I-I’m fine,”

“Like hells you are.” Estinien snarls, fixing you with a hot glare despite his cool eyes. “You’re obviously bursting at the seams, Honey, you’re hardly keeping yourself together.” His voice is soft but still harsh, his body leaning toward you more as both hands try to futilely stop your tears.

“I’m sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, idiot.” He grunts, shifting to make himself a bit more comfortable. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I’ve hurt so many people,” you insist, whimpering as his hands move to clutch at your face fiercely, but not painfully.

“Did you want to?” he asks, staring deep into your eyes.

“...N-No,” you stutter, lip trembling.

“Then you’ve done nothing wrong.” He sighs, the sound incredibly pained. “Gods woman-- it's a wonder you’re holding yourself together as is.” His thumbs gently swipe at still flowing tears, and the motion is soothing, your eyes drifting closed. You allow yourself this small comfort, leaning into his touch, his warmth. It is silent, nothing but white noise in the background. The light hum of his refrigerator in the kitchen nearby, the chirping of birds outside. The sound of his nearing breath.

“Honey,”

You’ve leaned forward before you’ve realized it, able to feel his breath on your face. Opening your eyes, for once the Elezen man looks a bit unsure, teeth worrying his bottom lip in a uncharacteristic show of anxiety. “Estinien.” You breathe, pushing yourself closer, but he pulls away, just barely. Frowning, you lean back slowly, looking more dejected than you feel. “I’m sorry. I thought,”

“No...it was I who made the first move was it not?” He groans, running a hand roughly through his long hair. The two of you sit in strained silence, neither one of you wanting to break it. The clock on the far wall ticks loudly, thudding in your ears until Estinien heaves a heavy sigh. “I just...not like this, Honey.” he murmurs softly. “I want you sober and willing. Not drunk and depressed.”

“I’m not drunk.” You snap back immediately, with more venom than you intend. “I will admit that the wine Cid served me certainly had more alcohol than I was expecting, but I am of a clear mind. I want to be here, I…” you swallow down a gulp of air, turning to face him slowly. “I want you.”

Estinien regards you in silence, studying you carefully. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“A-About wanting you?” you stammer, not resisting as he slowly takes you by your wrists and pulls you toward him. You raise to your knees with the movement, being pulled to straddle his lap as he leans back against the couch, allowing you to rest your hands where you wish.

“No. About you being sober.” He responds, his gaze turning ravenous.

Pursing your lips together, you give him the most serious look you can muster. “When have I ever lied to you Estinien?”

He opens his lips for a moment as if there’s something he wants to say, but decides against it. “Your breath smells like expensive wine.” He chooses instead.

“Blame your boss,”

And you fall into him, pressing your lips to his own and by the Twelve does it feel wonderful. He groans into your kiss, tongue skimming along your bottom lip and you take it upon yourself to deepen your kiss, but Estinien wrestles back control immediately. He sees fit to remain in control and you are fine to let him, being okay with giving up the reins for a while. His hands shift to cradle your hips, smoothing up and down your sides before resting on your behind and giving a firm squeeze.

“Halone have mercy,” he gasps for air, breaking your kiss, giving another good squeeze before bringing your hips down to grind against his own, his bulge settled right where you need most and the two of you groan in unison. Your hands get greedy, yanking his tie off him as you continue your kiss, fingers fiddling to quickly undo his buttons.

“The one time,” you huff as he trails kisses to your jawline, to your neck. “You come home wearing something I can’t just pull over your head,”

“We can worry about that later,” he growls, stopping your movements by flipping you beneath him onto the couch, hitching your legs on his hips. “Much later,” He continues ravishing your neck and you let him, raising your arms so he can get you out of your shirt. Estinien undresses you like a man possessed, reason too far gone as you do the same to him. Both of your pants are shoved downward in a rush, hands down the other’s as if you were two teenagers locked away in a closet. And in a way, aren’t you? You’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the enemy at all. You’re here to weasel information out of the Ironworks CEO and his idiot bodyguard, or at least those were your orders.

Following orders doesn't’ feel nearly as good as this though.

It doesn’t feel as good as Estinien’s long, nimble fingers stretching your core, preparing you for him, because from what you’ve felt he is certainly proportionate, and you hope he can not just feel but see how ready you are for him. His lips unexpectedly press to your lower lips hotly, his tongue delving inside to taste your sweetness that has you sobbing into the couch. He groans so wantonly, finding you ready enough to flip you over, your back to his front, both of your pants around your ankles respectively. As he looms over you you feel the tip of his cock press against your core, a tingle shooting down your spine, a trickle of anticipation racing through your veins.

Slowly, he takes his time filling you, ilm by torturous ilm. He is patient, surprisingly gentle, though that isn’t to say you thought he would take you like some sort of brute.

Like the savages you were.

Fully hilted within you, he lets you adjust to his length, his breath hot even though you both are sweating. When you finally wiggle your ass against him does he begin to slowly thrust, groaning your name into your hair, clutching your hips as if it is in the only thing grounding him in the moment. One hand of yours clutches at a stray throw pillow, the other reaches between you to feel how he fills you; to feel the glide of his cock reaching so deeply within you that you can focus on naught else.

“Estinien,” you moan, back arching like a bow beneath him, his eyes screwed shut as he increases the force of his thrusts.

“You feel…” he rasps, slamming hard into you, pulling a cry from your throat. “There are no words,”

And from then on there is no need for there to be. You come on his cock more times than you dare count, your clothes strewn all over the living room, the kitchen. Each release is as great as the last, a welcome distraction from the mess your life has become. Time does not pass as you are bent over every flat surface in his home, fucked against every wall. Each orgasm sets you free as much as it weighs you down, until you find yourself weeping silent tears as Estinien spends himself inside you one last time.

“Honey...what’s wrong?” Estinien asks, cradling your naked body to his, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I don’t,” you hiccup, feeling so small and helpless in his arms. “I don’t know. I feel so...guilty.”

You feel him frown against your head, but do not take note of it as you continue to weep. He carries you up the stairs to his bathroom, where he manages to get you both showered and clean. Too spent to bother getting dressed, he simply deposits you in his bed and tucks you under the covers, closing the blinds to block out the afternoon sun. You watch him with drowsy eyes, feeling a pain in your heart. “Estinien,”

He’s just about to leave the room but stops at the sound of his name. “Yes?” he asks, not turning around.

“Thank you.”

Saying nothing, he walks out the bedroom and closes the door behind him,

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 5 - My Name is Honey

“Welcome to the Galvus Estate.”

The words of the Hyur chauffeur pretty much pass in one ear and out the other, for you can’t keep your jaw from dropping at the sight of Zenos’ home.

Wrought in hauntingly beautiful metal, the Galvus Estate sits primly upon the hill that you are at the base of. Well-manicured gardens sprawl out what feels like for malms before the opulent mansion, showcasing a variety of flora which you can tell isn’t native to Hingashi. Multiple fountains of varying styles are sprinkled across the garden, the miniature shows eye catching as the car slowly pulls down the hand laid brick road.

Dark in color, the architecture of the estate differs greatly from any home (or any building in general) of that in Kugane, leaving you to wonder if it’s design hails to their Garlean heritage. As far as you knew, Varis himself was not a native to Kugane; that he immigrated from Garlemald as a child and that for someone with so much power, most of his origins are shrouded in mystery.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you try to not look too shocked; the very vision of a have-not being brought into the world of the haves. The chauffeur seems to realize he’s lost you and continues his drive to the front of the estate. Once there, he puts the car in park and steps out so that he may open your door for you.

He’s a bit late however as you’ve already done the job for him, ignoring his reserved sigh as he reaches to steady the door as you shakily climb out. “Ma’am, you still look very hurt,” He murmurs, holding out his other arm in offering.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You huff, standing on unstable feet, willing yourself to stand upright. A pain shoots up your right leg and you begin to go down, but thankfully the chauffeur’s reflexes are somewhat fast enough to catch you before you collapse entirely.

“Obviously.” He drones, pulling you back up and clutching onto you. “While I’m sure you have your pride Miss, I ask you to remember I too, have a job to do.” He speaks softly, giving you a knowing look. “Not all of us are...built to receive punishment for failure.”

Catching his grave meaning, you nod silently, allowing a bit more of your weight to rest on him. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, watching as he gently closes the door. With a gentle nudge he urges you toward the grand front doors, the brick beneath your soles somehow managing to feel just as fine as it looks. Just as you reach the door it’s opened by a housekeeper, who gives you a slight bow.

“Also for the record...I wasn’t punished. I fought Zenos,”

The chauffeur grips your side tight and you yelp in pain. “I do not know much about your relationship to Lord Zenos, but I advise you against addressing him so casually in public. People like me have only heard hearsay of your coming. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, should it leak out to the public.” He hisses underneath his breath, guiding you past the grand staircase that is in the foyer. “One might guess you are quite close. Employees certainly do not stay within the estate.”

You purse your lips as he guides you through another door, deciding to heed his words. Like it or not, this was the path you were given, not the one you had chosen. From the tone of his voice, you wonder if the chauffeur has seen employees leave work to go home; and never come back.

“Why tell me this?” You ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“None of us want to work here. But no one wants to struggle either. And just looking at you...I can tell this is the last place you want to be.” He smiles easily, accenting his already handsome features. “Also...you’re the first person to ever thank me. I’ve been workin for these guys for about three years now.”

That brings a smile to your own face. “I hope I get to see you around more often then.” You beam at him, watching as his cheeks tint red.

“You might. I’m Lord Zenos’ personal chauffeur.” He murmurs bashfully, leading you down another hallway. The estate certainly didn’t look this big from the outside, but you did only see the front of it to be fair.

“Got a name?” You ask, eyes wandering over the expensive artwork lining the walls. It seemed Varis certainly wasn’t above flaunting his very obvious wealth.

“Ardbert.” he answers, finally coming to a stop at a door. “We’ve arrived at your rooms. Just give me a moment,” Fishing what looks to be a credit card from his pocket, he presses it to the access point on the outside, the device chirping happily much like the one at the highrise. Leading you in, it is far grander than you ever expected.

“This is the wing where Lord Zenos stays. His room is the floor above this one. Your uniform,”

Ardbert’s words once again become background noise as you look around slack jawed. The walls are painted in a striking red with an elegant, black design strewn across it. Your bed sits against the far wall, now situated in the middle instead of tucked against itl. A canopy sits on top of the bedposts, your mouth forming an “o” as you can see a beautiful landscape painting on its underside.

Your room has a desk tucked against another wall, along with dressers and a walk-in closet. There’s a door that leads to your personal bathroom, which you are ecstatic to get a look at were Ardbert not doing his best to walk you to the bed as you try to crane your neck to look at everything.

“Ma’am,”

“Honey.” You interrupt, flashing him a smile. “None of that ma’am stuff.”

He gives a small smile at that. “Only when we are alone.” He concedes, giving you a none-too-gentle nudge to sit upon the bed. It almost feels like it’s trying to drag you into its cozy grasp as soon as you make contact. “While I don’t know how you managed to get so banged up, I am under strict orders to make sure you rest until the resident doctor is here to check up on you.”

Deciding to not make his job harder on him, you nod and allow the bed to draw you in. “All right. But only ‘cause you asked.” You snicker, appreciating how he always seems to return your smile.

“I appreciate it. And...take care of yourself.”

With that, he makes his way out the door, shutting it behind him.

You lie there and stare absentmindedly at the painting on the canopy, wishing you knew more about brush strokes and techniques to appreciate it better. Instead, you just lie there and let your bones relax, the pain mostly a distant soreness. They had given you some pretty strong painkillers, and from the look of the doctors’ faces, you’d think you had come from the brink of death and not a little spar with the Galvus heir.

That bastard.

Just thinking about him sets your blood to boiling, wishing you could land another fist in his face. And in his stomach. A swift kick in the balls to add insult to injury.

The train of thought pulls your lips into a sadistic smile, imagining taking advantage of your newfound position to get some good payback on Zenos yae Galvus. Even he himself said your place as his bodyguard was merely for show; nothing but pure looks. He gave you a position where you could be kept close with little question as to why, free for him to use you as he wished.

Even though the situation had not turned out exactly as planned, you still could find some humor in it. You could already imagine the look on his face when you finally did him and his father in, wiping their crime from the face of the star.

A knock on the door jolts you from your plotting, shouting for whoever is outside to enter. The Miqo’te doctor you saw yesterday strolls in, stethoscope hanging loosely around his neck. “Greetings.”

“Hello.” You return, eyes fixated on him as he moves to stand beside your bed. Did everyone who worked for the Galvuses speak so properly?

“How are you feeling?” He asks, hands pulling his stethoscope from around his neck, placing them in his fuzzy ears.

“Not too bad. Bit sore, but nothing another night’s rest won’t fix.” You reply, watching his expression turn into one of pure confusion as he conducts his light examination.

“A bit...sore you said?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah. Why?”

His features pinch together as much as possible, before he pulls away. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Though I must say...you have quite a few people in shock.” He finally answers, relaxing his face.

You tilt your head in confusion this time, watching as his eyes dart toward the door.

Leaning closer, he begins to whisper, “I know you’re new here, but I don’t think you grasp what you did.” His ears twitch nervously, as if searching for any foreign noise. “That you faced Lord Zenos is shocking enough...but that you lived to tell the tale has anyone who knows absolutely floored.”

“What? He doesn’t have any lackeys worth sparring?” You question, shifting to sit yourself up, forcing the doctor to sit back.

“There are very few....very few people who have dueled Lord Zenos. Not all have lived. And those that have were instead given to Lord Varis, to protect him.” The doctor explains, constantly glancing at the door. “You’ve fought him, lived, and walked away with bruised ribs at the worst. Others have had their bones entirely broken,”

“Speaking ill of me, are you?”

The doctor freezes up with fear, tail frizzing as Zenos steps into the room. Somehow he seems far too large for it, despite all the ceilings being noticeably higher than Doman architecture. “O-Of course not, Lord Zenos,” the doctor trembles, sparking your anger.

“He was telling me what a shitty employer I have.” You interject, meeting Zenos’ cool gaze with a fiery glare, inflamed further as his lips pull into an easy smile.

“I see your time in bed has done little for your tongue.” He drawls, looming closer. Your body rises naturally, kneeling in the plush covers so you may jump up at any moment.

“I’ve enjoyed my time in bed. It means I don’t have to deal with you.” You sneer, teeth bared as he stands at the foot of the bed. Something flashes across his eyes, something akin to interest as his eyes drink in your battered form.

“Luckily for you, my bodyguard is of no use to me broken and bruised. How much longer until she’s healed?” Zenos asks, settling to ignore you instead. The doctor nearly jolts at suddenly being addressed, his ears pressing flat against his head.

“Her vitals seem to be in stable condition, however,”

“That is not what I asked.” Zenos states coldly, that apathetic edge back to his voice. The glare he fixes on the shuddering doctor would kill him if it could, and it’s at that moment you decide you’ve had enough.

Standing atop your covers, you drag his attention back to you as you fist your strongest hand in his shirt. It’s soft to the touch, designer probably, for how plain it looks. But that’s not what matters right now. “I’m feeling just dandy.” You growl, hating how he places that stupid grin of his back on his face.

“Are you now?” He purrs, his eyes dipping to how your arm trembles. In a flash he makes a move to punch your side but you catch his fist with ease, wincing at the pain that shoots up your arm, unable to hide the cry of pain. “You are still unfit to serve me quite yet.” In a show of speed he frees his fist to grab your own, yanking hard to disrupt your balance and spin you around, pulling you against him, front to back.

You grit your teeth as he locks your arm behind your back, unable to move unless you feel like dislocating your shoulder. It rankles that he knows you know that. As if the doctor still isn’t in the room, he rests his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling what bare skin is exposed to the air, drawing a gasp from you. For someone with such a cold demeanor, he is surprisingly warm. “Let me go, you overgrown, insufferable,” Your tirade is cut short as you stop to jerk away from his face as he presses closer.

He chuckles at your insults, the sound rumbling through you in the most delicious way. “Don’t stop on my account. Snarl and bite and gnash. Hate me if that’s what you must do. So long as you never stop fighting, living for that rush of blood, my beast.” His breath rolls across your skin, the sensation cool to the steadily rising warmth you feel. The man is a furnace. “I have found your strength and it is now mine. Deny my words all you want...but even now…” He pauses to laugh low and deep, and your teeth unconsciously bite down on your lip. “I can feel your pulse racing in my hand.”

You fall forward as he releases you, huffing indignantly as you flip yourself to face him. He studies you in silence for a moment before finally looking to the doctor. “She is to remain in bed until she is fully healed and ready for combat. Until then she doesn’t leave this room.”

“I’m right here, you know!” You hiss, glaring at his condescending smile.

“And here you shall stay. I look forward to you unleashing all that pent up anger when I see you next, my beast.” Done with the conversation, he turns with a flash of golden hair and strolls out the door.

You would kill him.

Well you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Then you would be no better than he was.

Somehow that fact hadn’t sunk in...your doctor looked nearly ready to pass out from fear. Was Zenos’ reputation truly that horrible? Was there truth to the myth?

Had he really meant it when he said he would leave Nael there to die…

The thought that someone could be so heartless, so callous about another’s life, that they felt they could snuff them out whenever they inconvenienced them…

It’s what fueled your irritation as you were escorted across the estate grounds to Zenos’ personal training room, your fists flexing in the freshly bought fighting gloves you were given. Your favorites were stashed away in a drawer where hopefully no one would think to toss them out, or so you hoped. The fact that you were given an entirely new wardrobe without being asked or at the very least measured, concerned you a little less than it should have. ‘These damn rich people.’ you mumble internally, wiggling your toes in your brand new tennis shoes. Top of the line like nearly everything else in this Twelves damned, oversized house.

You’ve already made a decent map in your head back to your room, that way you can start walking yourself around the estate, and hopefully, snoop around in the future. The escort stops before an elegant metal door and you whisper a quiet word of thanks as you watch him press his card to the access point to let you inside.

The training room certainly is a lot more personal indeed, lacking the size and space of the gym at the high rise. The walls are painted a glaring red like the majority of the mansion, multiple weights of varying sizes lining one wall. A miniature fridge sits in one corner filled with a multitude of beverages, from water to what looks like sports drinks considering they have no label. The room is almost somewhat barren in comparison, save for a wall holding multiple training weapons on its racks.

Oddly enough, Zenos is seated in the center of the room, legs crossed in meditation, the pose looking strangely natural and effortless for someone of his bulk. His hands rest upon his muscular thighs, face completely relaxed as he controls his breathing. His breathing is so controlled, one might think he is not breathing at all.

“I’m here.” You announce, walking further into the room. His eyes slowly open to land on you, fixing you with a solid stare. “So you are.” He murmurs, giving you a once over. “And looking almost presentable. Enjoy your rest?” He asks and you have to remind yourself it’s not out of genuine concern for you.

“It ended far too soon.” You huff, watching as he stands to his bare feet, towering over you once more. You find yourself wishing that the only time you were taller than him wasn’t when he was on the ground. He is dressed much the same as you, a simple workout shirt loosely clinging to every bit of muscle he had, with equally form fitting pants. Had you already not pegged him as an apathetic narcissist, you’d think he was doing it on purpose.

Then again…

“So. You hired me as your bodyguard, what now? I just wake up and follow you around like a lost puppy? Hit anyone who calls you a mean name?” You snark, beginning to do your warm up stretches. He watches your every move like a hawk, and even were the situation different you weren’t sure if you would find it flattering or creepy.

“If that’s your prerogative. You are under my employment and my father’s by proxy. Therefore, there are rules you still must follow.” He explains, moving closer to you. His hand reaches out to grab your arm before you can jerk away, guiding it to a more comfortable position in a way that is strangely gentle. “I will explain the terms of your employment, after we have dueled.”

You mutter a begrudging thanks, finding the position much easier to stretch in. His eyes never leave you as you go through your motions, and it is clear he sees you as something to move and touch as he wishes; but thankfully he’s not handsy. His nudges and adjustments are purely instructional, his eyes completely analytical. “You are clearly trained, but have not studied anatomy. Most of your forms are off.”

“What kinda street rat knows anything about anatomy?” You retort, coming up from your final stretch. He’s finally backed off, walking back to the center of the floor. You watch his back muscles flex as he swoops his curtain of hair into his hands, elegantly pulling it into a ponytail.

“A street rat indeed…” He murmurs more to himself even if the words make it to your ears. “Your training does not speak of someone who has lived their life on the streets.” He observes, hawk eyes watching your every step as you come to meet him on the floor. You do your best to keep your expression in check, realizing that Zenos is not just a wall of muscle. He’s obviously smart.

“Are you gonna stand there yappin’ or what?” You spit, raising your fists to guard yourself. He sees your diversion for what it is by the glint in his eye, but is willing to let it slide as he brings his own arms up.

“You won’t hold back on me this time will you?” he asks, excitement glittering in his gaze as he slowly starts to circle you. You release a rude snort, unable to keep your lips from quirking upward. “You sure you want that? I handed your ass to you pretty good from what I recall.” You taunt, flexing your fingers.

“I would love nothing more.” He purrs, stepping in to make his first strike. You dodge him easily, able to weave your smaller form underneath the wide arcs of his punches. Deciding that it can’t get much worse from here, you don’t hold back, unleashing the full force of your schooling upon the eccentric heir. His face is pinched in concentration but the thrill never leaves his eyes, his exhilaration shining through in each strike. His blows seem to carry more force and it is with mild offense you realize even he was holding back on you that day.

How dare he.

Sweat drips down your back, your shirt clinging to your form as the two of you fight, adrenaline and excitement flowing through your veins like a delicious cocktail. Still, he will not let you get a hit in, his guard too solid, and he knows by now you’re willing to take a hit to get in one of your own. You’ve not had to think this hard about an opponent in so long, that you can’t help keep the smile off your face as you catch his fist in your hand.

He returns it, eyes gleaming brightly as he makes to grab you by the arm, but you are too swift, weaving out his grasp. He’s far too sturdy to nudge, and only a full fledged grab will do. You gasp as he manages to grab your arm and hold fast, his smirk downright feral. You tug and you pull to wrench your arm free, struggling to fight against his brute strength. He tries to pull you closer and you plant your feet down trying to twist out of his grip but he keeps step with you, smirk shining with victory.

Time to wipe it off his face.

Giving a sharp tug, you force him to move his weight with yours if he wants to keep you held. His free arm moves to grab hold but you grab him first, quickly turning your back to him and pulling him close. Bracing your legs you crouch down low and pull, yelling with the effort as you topple his weight and flip him backwards over your shoulder. He manages to twist himself to where he lands on his knees but he is on the floor regardless, and you grasp him by the collar in victory.

“Nice try.” You beam, chest heaving as you look down upon the Galvus heir. He stares up at you in disbelief again, his eyes wide with bewilderment and...wonder?

A trick of the light.

“Truly...there has been no greater prize I have won from my hunt…” he heaves, and you notice that he’s actually broken a sweat. His shirt hugs his chest tight, leaving little to the imagination as he gazes up at you, his blue eyes jumping across your features. “You are something else, my beast.” He purrs, despite how you clutch his shirt tighter and near your face to his.

“I told you. My name. Is Honey.” You bite out, for what good it does you.

“So you have said. But I find it a much more fitting name.” He croons, his cool breath slipping across your face. “A rat, plucked from the streets of savages--”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you slam him on his back, digging your knee into his chest. “I will end you.” You hiss, wishing anything you said would have the proper effect on this man.

“You might be able to back up such claims, my little savage, but you lack the conviction.” He laughs, the sound growing louder as you sock him in the jaw.

“Shut up!” You snarl, praying he doesn’t notice your fist shaking.

“Do it then, Honey. Kill me, if that’s what you want.” He challenges, his body going completely lax beneath your own. He holds your gaze in a solid, unwavering stare, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

You could do it.

You could end him right here.

Your hands around his neck, he’s clearly defenseless; you’d just have to make a break for it before anyone could come check on him. You’d already be gone.

Your hands circle around his neck, and he has still yet to do anything to stop you. You squeeze, squeeze hard, feel the muscle and the veins cave under your hands. He hasn’t stopped staring, hasn’t stopped smirking even as you try to force yourself to add more pressure, to crush his windpipe--

“You disgust me.” You seethe, rising off of him and heading for the door, leaving the Galvus heir alone in the room.

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 9 - Hobbies

“I’m going to fall over.”

“Have I ever let you fall?”

“Zenos do not get me started on the times you’ve let me fall flat on my face--”

Zenos’ hand feels like it nearly encompasses your entire stomach as he holds you steady, your arms shaking minutely as you balance yourself on your forearms. Each breath shifts his hand, large and warm even through your gym clothes. The other urges your legs to curl in the same direction of your head, his fingers gripping your muscled calves with strange familiarity.

“Come now, don’t tell me you’re afraid?” He asks, sliding you a knowing grin. You have to stifle a laugh at his look, forcing your face to look as bored as possible.

“Afraid of falling? Never. Afraid you’ll make me fall so you can laugh? Certainly.” You reply, taking a steadying breath. He doesn’t answer, too focused on shifting your muscles into place. For the first week or two it had bothered you how little concern he had for touching you how he pleased, but now you hardly bat an eye as you feel his hand firmly grasp the back of your thigh.

“Tilt your head forward now to maintain your balance. I’m letting you go.” He demands, and you do as told, hanging your head between your arms. Slowly he pulls away, and you fight to keep your muscles in place, focusing on centering your breathing. Allowing your eyes to slide shut, you focus on each intake and outtake, until time seems to melt away.

“Excellent, my beast.” He praises, and you can hear him circle you as he observes your form. “You’ve improved much these past months. You’ve almost become worthy of your position.” What praise he saw fit to give you was followed swiftly by a backhanded insult, something you learned about him quickly. You’d chewed him out over it months ago, stopping when your huffing and puffing made you land hard on your back. He had howled with laughter then at your stupefied expression as you stared at the ceiling, the timbre of his voice echoing in the small room.

You couldn’t even be angry for him letting you fall, seeing how genuine his laughter was. In the weeks you had gotten to know him, he at most would give a single chuckle if he was amused. To see him roar with laughter had immobilized you, cheeks tinted red as you burned the image into your memory.

Pulling you from your reverie, you feel him reach for you, gently guiding your legs to the floor.

“Last I checked, I’m still pretty worthy of kicking your ass.” You grunt as you stand to your feet, giving your arms a good shake. They’ve bulked up a tad in the past weeks under Zenos’ tutelage and you cannot deny you feel stronger, somehow more fit. You took satisfaction in becoming a beast of his own making; able to land harder hits on him with your newfound strength.

Though, from his dazed look anytime you pinned him to the floor, it just might be what he wants.

“That is certainly true...I’ve yet to unravel the secret of your strength, but I’m sure I’ll find out, given time.” He tosses you a towel and you snatch it out the air, rubbing it along the back of your neck to dry up the sweat. In this room, a truce of sorts was in place; here you were not employer and employee (hunter and hunted he tried to insist), but two blades honing each other in combat. Zenos surprised you with his humility; he was not above seeing there were techniques he could learn from you. At the same time he had shown you his skill with a sword, and you took him up on his offer to teach you how to use one as well. The highlight of your day always came at sunrise, eyes bright as you stepped into the room where Zenos was always waiting for you, his ice blue eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” You ask, heading to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. You catch Zenos’ hand outstretched behind you, grabbing an extra bottle to toss over your shoulder.

“Not much. Even the life of the wealthy can be as monotonous as those who are not.” He responds, reaching up with elegant fingers to pull his hair down from his ponytail. Something in you really wish he could keep his hair up more often. He quickly untwists the cap from the bottle and takes huge gulps of the water, skin glistening with leftover sweat.

Tugging your eyes away, you make for the door. “All right, I’ll see you out front.” With those parting words, you head back upstairs for your shower.

Settling into life as a bodyguard for Zenos yae Galvus has been draining as much as it’s been infuriating. And you don’t mean as far as the aforementioned heir is concerned.

The transition from a life of being lower class to the top rung hasn’t been easy in the least. It had its perks of course, such as never running out of hot water during a shower, or never having to wash dishes. Dinners that were as delicious as they were nutritious, access to a top of the line gym for free. But you could never quite get used to the frivolity; having butlers and maids clean your room and wash your clothes, to watch kitchen staff throw away perfectly good excess food. You had almost managed to convince Lyngsath to slide you any leftovers to stash for later until Zenos had caught you red handed.

You missed all of your favorite snacks, begging Ardbert to drive into town for you and bring them back to the estate. Zenos had found out about them, and had crushed them before your very eyes after reading off every unhealthy ingredient, prompting a bruising brawl out in the front yard. You could hear the distant grumbles of garden staff as you tossed Zenos into a bush.

Your treatment of Zenos (and his tolerance for it) had spread around the estate like a bad cold, and you could’ve sworn people seemed more afraid of you than the heir himself. For if Zenos could find someone strong enough to not be afraid of him, what did that make you?

A freak of nature apparently.

Stepping out the shower, your suit is waiting pressed and cleaned for you on your bed, and you slip into it easily. The routine is natural at this point, done in mere minutes so that you’re already heading to the kitchens for breakfast.

“Morning Lyngsath!” You call as you step in, giving a gentle wave.

“Mornin’ there little lady!” He bellows, scooching by another chef. “I made an omelette for ya today! Fresh with peppers and mushrooms, just how you like it.” He grins, grabbing a plate from a nearby counter.

“Just how I like it?” You repeat, taking it from his hands, opening the perfectly cooked dish, grinning as you peer at the cheese tucked inside.

“Just how you like it.” He winks, giving you a hard clap on the back. “Gettin’ ready to head out?”

“In a bit, yeah. Seems like there’s not much on the agenda today, so it’ll probably be slow. What’s for dinner?” You ask, grabbing a stool and slinging it near the counter, plopping yourself on it.

“Tonight? For the family or for you?” He laughs, moseying back over to oversee preparations. “For the family, some Loagthan steak, peppered popotoes, sauteed green leeks, with Nut Bake for dessert.” Already you can envision the spread in your mind's eye, and boy does that sound delicious. “For you, I was actually instructed to hold your meal today. Perhaps the young master has work to catch up on, and will be out too late tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. Given that he did say there wasn’t much on the agenda today, maybe Lyngsath’s words held some truth, though you still found it strange.

After a day’s work at the office, you would often return together to the estate. Once you pulled up you were then relinquished from your duties, where Ardbert would come to let you out of the car. Zenos would remain, Ardbert giving you a nod as he got back in the car and drove him and Zenos away. It didn’t happen every night, but when it did, Zenos seemed to be gone for hours. You had wondered just where he was going, and wondered if he was off to handle gang business.

You of course asked, not wanting to seem suspicious for being okay with him just running off in the middle of the night. You were his bodyguard after all. You received the answer you expected however, nothing but a vague excuse with hints that it was “none of your business”.

And even smaller hints of “at least, not yet.”

Wrapping up breakfast, you give Lyngsath your goodbyes and head to the foyer where you wait for Zenos. He apparently liked to take his time eating, and you were never one to rush him, not at all eager to be in his presence any longer than you had to. The days are getting warmer as the summer sun really begins to shine its rays, keeping you in the safety of the estate where it’s cool. It is your last bit of free time before you’re on the clock, so you usually take the time to sit around and browse the internet on your phone.

“I still don’t understand what you find so interesting on the internet.” Zenos sighs as he strolls into the foyer, golden hair glistening in the sunlight shining through the windows.

“And I still don’t understand how you survive without any other hobby aside from trying to kill me.” You retort, standing to your feet and heading to open the door for him.

“I have other hobbies.” He responds, not even slowing his walk to stop as the door barely opens in time for him to walk through. You follow behind him, catching up with his long stride where Ardbert is waiting in the driveway with the car door open for the two of you.

“Oh? Things that don’t involve fighting? Or exercising?” You snort, standing by the car door near Ardbert as Zenos steps into the car. You take satisfaction in purposefully slamming the door after him, circling the car to get in on the other side. Zenos doesn’t answer as you step inside, giving you the chance to mentally chalk up one of your few victories against him.

The car ride is silent as usual, seeing as how...oddly strict Zenos had become about your job. During the second week or so you had begun making conversation with Ardbert; finding out you both shared mutual interests and the same sense of humor. You were well onto becoming even closer until Zenos fixed him with a look so deadly you’re pretty sure Ardbert hasn’t spoken in his presence since. You of course refused to take it sitting down, storming into his office and demanding an answer.

“You have a job to do and you cannot do it efficiently by blabbing to the chauffeur. Unless you would like to take his place that is.”

You had made sure to deck him in the face extra hard the next morning.

That wasn’t to say you had cut off contact with Ardbert entirely; your friendship continued to blossom in quieter, less obvious ways. At least you hoped it wasn’t obvious, considering how Zenos would look at the smaller man as if he wanted to vaporize him where he stood.

Arriving at the tower, you step out first, readjusting your blazer. You beat Ardbert to opening the door to let Zenos out, not even glancing his way as he intentionally places his hand over yours on the car door as he pulls himself out. Throwing a farewell wink at Ardbert, you shut the door and match Zenos’ pace as you start your day.

You take your job seriously now, less so due to any real desire to protect Zenos from harm, and more out of necessity. You didn’t think anyone was stupid or bold enough to actually try and bring harm to him. Heir or no, he was a hulk of a man, and would obviously kill with a single look if the laws of nature allowed it.

However, that did not stop anyone who had a grudge.

“You bastard!”

A voice rings throughout the lobby, everyone glancing around for the source. Your body reacts before your mind can even catch up, turning to the source of the voice. Spinning around, you notice a Hyur man making a blind dash for Zenos, brandishing what seems to be a knife. His eyes red bloodshot, his entire body looks malnourished, having clearly not eaten or slept in days, possibly weeks.

Your hand strikes out to disarm him without thought, ignoring the man’s cry of pain as the knife clatters across the immaculate tile. You grab his arm, quickly moving to bend it behind his back as you give a well placed shove to the back of his knees to send him to the ground. Pushing further you pin him with your weight, keeping him flat against the floor. He growls and thrashes like a crazed animal, but he is too weak to fight back.

“I’ll kill you!” He roars, eyes having never left Zenos, who stares at him as if this is nothing new.

“Please do. If there is anyone who could get through my bodyguard to kill me, I’d like to see it.” He drones, lazily staring down at the man. You watch as he crouches down, a smirk playing on thin lips. “Let your hate fuel you, savage. Live to face me again.”

You stare wide eyed at the Galvus heir, even as he snaps his fingers and security come scuttling over, muttering apologies and practically begging for their lives more than their jobs. As they cuff the would be killer, you still cannot take your eyes off Zenos who watches as the man is taken away before finally settling back to you. “It’s rude to stare, my beast.”

“Why did you...why did you say,”

“There is no greater source of motivation in this world aside from hate.” He responds, turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. “If letting myself be hated will grant me the challenge I seek, so be it.”

It was the first real glimpse you had gotten into Zenos’ character; a man who was not an asshole solely for the hell of it, but because he wanted to be hated. To have those who hated him train themselves to kill him.

You received no congratulations for your efforts of course, as you were merely doing your job. If anything your only reward was in the form of Zenos not being a complete ass the rest of the day. It also made you curious about what he had done personally; he wasn’t even the face of the company, Varis made sure of that. If anyone should be getting attacked, you would think the CEO would be receiving death threats every other day.

Granted you did recall Zenos saying that he would take only the best protection Kugane could offer. Part of you wanted to meet them; to see these guards that Zenos had found only for his father to selfishly take them. To take the only thing that seemed to bring out any sort of emotion in your own child…

You were glad you lacked the killing instinct that Varis was looking for, or whatever it was he was looking for as he walked into Zenos’ office. A bronze skinned man follows in behind him, nearly as tall as father and son, and Garlean to boot. You sit up as inelegantly as possible from your place lounging on the leather chair, not bothering to fix your scowl as he walks right past you to stop at Zenos’ desk.

“Father.” The son greets, not even looking up from the stack of papers he’d been going over for the past bell.

“I see you have your...bodyguard with you. Has anything changed since your last report?” Varis questions, golden eyes sliding over to you. You have to bite down on your lip to keep from making a stupid face at him.

“Nothing has changed. She has excelled in her duties.” Zenos responds, almost robotically. The way he handles his father is almost clinical; detached.

“Good. I had come to remind you to take them along to your outing this evening. The recent attempts on your life have concerned me and I will not have my only heir enforcing our will when there is hired help to do it.” Varis doesn’t miss a beat, clearly used to his son’s emotionless responses. “Remember your manners as well, Zenos. At least set an example for the savage you keep so close.”

Your knuckles audibly pop from clenching your fists so hard. You’ve kept them hidden from view by keeping them tucked underneath crossed arms, though a fat lot of good it did. Zenos finally looks away from the stack of papers to glance at you, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Honey, the man with my father is Gaius van Baelsar, the vice president of our industry.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The man bows, his voice rich and velvety. His dark hair is neatly styled, and he wears a tailored suit like any other powerful man in the building. His eyes are as hard and unforgiving as Varis’ though you see it seems to just be who he is.

“Nice to meet you too.” You practically ground out, not wanting to give any of these three-eyed assholes the time of day.

“Make sure she knows what her job requires of her Zenos. If anything, at least she knows how to throw her body in front of yours.”

Zenos fixes you with a look that keeps you in place as Varis turns and exits the room. You hope he can feel the burn of your gaze on his back, and that it burns through that expensive suit he’s wearing.

“I’ll never like your father.” You snarl once you’re sure he’s out of ear shot.

“I would be surprised if you did.” Zenos chuckles, and it’s one so genuine that it’s almost enough to make you forget your anger entirely.

“So what did he mean? By an outing?” You ask, once again slouching in the chair. You throw your legs over one arm while reclining against the other, whipping your phone back out to continue browsing the internet. It’s usually hours of this as Zenos does whatever he needs to do. It is quiet for a few moments before he finally responds.

“I will be showing you one of my hobbies, so to speak.” There’s an almost sadistic edge to his voice, one that unsettles you. “You get to join me on my nightly ventures at last, my beast. I hope you’ve missed those streets I plucked you from.”

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch.1 - Code Name: Warrior of Light

Rating: E/NC-17 Pairing: M/F - Zenos/WoL Cross posted on AO3 ===========================================================

There was no city more beautiful than Kugane. It’s towers touched the heavens, it’s streets flourishing with wealth and life and love.

It’s gutters, riddled with crime.

This wasn’t to say that Kugane was riddled with mere petty theft. It had its fair share of murderers, robbers, arsonists.

But one stood out from them all.

His name was Varis zos Galvus.

A crime boss in every sense of the word, a man revered as one of the city’s richest businessmen, with no clue to his underhanded dealings. If organized crime ever needed a definition, his face would fit the bill. The police force had tried to put an end to his drug ring for years; but any witness would mystically vanish. He infuriated your higher ups for his knowing smirk as time after time he was cleared of all charges, the police unable to find a single scrap of evidence to pin to him, as if he was water.

His continued reign over the crime underworld was pushing the police to damn near desperation. Nothing seemed to work on him for he was too crafty, too clever. Any police raid on a rumored drug filled warehouse ended up with several men bumbling around to find it completely cleared. Any attempt at espionage ended in total failure, and on more than one account, the loss of a few good men.

The police were at their wits end.

“What would you have us do Merlwyb?” Raubahn groans, scratching a large hand on the back of his neck. He was the chief of police, decorated with more medals and awards you cared to even bother thinking about. Despite that he still remained as diligent and humble as he had when he was a rookie. “I refuse to lose anymore good men to this man. Any attempt we’ve made at him has failed. He pays his lawyers well and the judges even better for all we know. I refuse to lose any more men to this fiend.” He sighs, taking a long swig of his lukewarm coffee.

“Would you have us give up then Raubahn?” Merlwyb challenges, her eyes hard as steel and fierce. She’s as tall as Raubahn and your own police captain. “Please believe me when I say I am loathe to put anymore hard working officer’s life on the line as much as you are, but would you have us throw in the towel? Varis zos Galvus is a stain upon this city, and it will never know true peace until he is behind bars.” Merlwyb is not at all afraid of the difference in power between her and Raubahn, and in most ways they are equals. Raubahn has always shown through his actions that he values her direction and input, but it seems even he is remaining stubborn as a mule.

“What would make this time different?” Raubahn breathes, clearly stressed and doing his best to not show it. Merlwyb’s eyes soften for the smallest moment as she nears Raubahn who buries his face in his hands. 

“I know this is aggravating, Raubahn. But we can catch him. I know we can.” She murmurs softly, patting his back.

“You still have not told me how this will differ from other times, Merlwyb.” He sits back in his chair and stares up at her, meeting her gaze.

“Come in!” Merlwyb calls.

Opening the door, you step inside, feeling somewhat meek in the presence of two of your higher ups.

“We have tried undercover cops before. But I’m asking you give it one more chance. Give her one more chance.” Merlwyb urges, pleads. 

“What makes her different Merlwyb?” Raubahn’s bronze eyes stare you down, and you fight to keep your back ramrod straight. You can tell he is judging you, and you do your best to look worthy of his scrutiny.

“She can fight.” She says simply, as if that’s all the explanation needed. But she continues. “Recent intel has suggested that Varis has been training his son Zenos yae Galvus to prepare to take his place. However, there are rumors that his son cares little for his father’s dealings, and in fact only participates because he enjoys a good fight.” Merlwyb’s eyes land on you as she crosses her arms. “As fat as the Galvus line lives off their riches, their son can’t turn down a good tussle. This rookie here is by far the strongest I’ve seen in years, Raubahn.”

The chief’s eyes narrow on you impossibly further, now taking note of your muscular arms, your powerful stance. You had no doubt Raubahn could take on Zenos in a fight himself if he wasn’t the chief. “With her, we could gain the opportunity to get closer to this fiend, through his son. Her combat prowess should prove irresistible to someone even as practiced as Zenos. Raubahn, please consider,”

“All right.” He cuts off, eyes never leaving yours. “What’s your name rookie? Actually don’t tell me. You can tell me when this mission is a success.” He rumbles, sitting back in his chair. “I will give you your code name myself. I trust your captain has informed you of everything this job will entail?”

You nod silently, unsure if you should speak.

“Very well.” He stands from his chair, circling the desk to stand before you. Extending his right hand, you take it in your own, shaking it firmly. “A pleasure to meet you Warrior of Light. Let’s bring this bastard to justice.” =======================================================

With KYKM on it’s way to a close, figured I’d churn out this idea I had from FenrirPrime’s fanart of Zenos! They make a ton of cool art so I’d give them a follow  >///<. I hope it’s to everyone’s liking :D This’ll be a little small series prob 4-5 chaps long honestly unless i get some wicked ass inspo.