#hot mess alert ; cordelia

[bloodywoes]

in the relationship or.

[jiyel]

happy holidays to @mer-birdman​! what’s up ira i’m your secret santa for the @7kppsecretsanta thing! hope u enjoy even though I’m posting barely in time for christmas! prompt: delegates & april fool’s day (this doesn’t fit into the canon timeline i have no idea what’s happening) (this doesn’t even have a bunch of the delegates i’m so sorry)

The Day of Fools, the Day of Tricksters

1.

Lyon checks the calendar, a fluttering sense of panic and a sour tang rising up in the back of his throat. He runs a finger across the numbers as he counts the days, muttering under his breath, and—

“Oh no,” he says softly, horrified. Oh no. He has even less time than he thought he did. Today’s the last day he has before every bit of order within this castle breaks down, before chaos and anarchy deck the halls and shrieking peals of laughter echo through the air.

He gathers up his things, shoving books and scrolls and notes in his bag with a brisk, hurried pace, rushing past the table where he’d spent most of his time at the Summit, rushing towards his one refuge, the one place he knows will remain untouched in the coming day of madness that he has neither the energy nor the desire to brave.

Lyon makes his way into the very heart of the library to the fort that he’d been carefully constructing for the past few days. Here, no one will find him.

No one will drag him out to socialize and converse with people whose minds are always a few steps behind, with people whose thoughts are always caught up in gossip and intrigue and secrets. No one will play tricks on him and turn him into the fool that he feels like he is at court. No one will dump glitter in his hair or salt in his tea or, or do anything to him.

Lyon nestles into the space he’d carved out for himself and closes his eyes, glad to be away from it all. He has enough to hold out here for a week, definitely enough to outlast the twenty-four hours of pranks and suffering that he knows is coming.

He’s certain that some among the delegates will enjoy the Day of Fools. And he’s okay with that, mostly. They can have their fun. They can have all the fun they want, just as long it’s far away from him, his books, and the quiet of the library.

2.

Avalie drops a pair of sugar cubes into her already sickly sweet tea, a delicate smile tilting up the corners of her mouth, and she thinks: Oh, I am going to have fun with this.

She had thought the Summit would be amusing, a diversion, something that would keep her on her toes, but no. What she had been expecting was drama, politics, the best of the best of the best competing against each other for love and reputation and alliances. What she got, for the most part, were sweaty-handed, fumbling men who couldn’t take their eyes off her mouth, her neck, her hands and waist.

But the next day promises much more: opportunities to toy with her fellow delegates, an evershifting landscape of chaos, and chances to observe the true creativity and cleverness of those at the Summit, all with a minimal risk of permanent maiming or death!

“Lady Avalie?” Gisette asks as she butters a muffin with a small, sharp blade and surgical precision.

“Yes, Princess Gisette?” Avalie says, her mind a million miles away and whirling with plans and ideas. She could, oh she could move all the furniture just a bit to the left— she’s done that before, it’s fairly effective. Or… something else?

“I was just wondering if you were feeling alright,” says Gisette, perfectly pleasant and perfectly nasty. “You look a little out of sorts. Is the stress and the pressures of the Summit getting to you, Lady Avalie?”

“I’m perfectly alright, thank you for asking,” Avalie responds, smiling sweetly. She could always resort to something basic like the classic salt and sugar switch, but that required no finesse at all. No grace! No elegance! She sips her tea, and says, “I’m just thinking. It’s quite a common look on most people, although considering the company you tend to keep, I’d understand if you didn’t recognize it immediately.”

Gisette raises her eyebrows at that and takes a sip of her tea. “Then I suppose I’ll have to remedy that. I wouldn’t suppose you would be available tomorrow, Lady Avalie?”

Avalie dips her head apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ll be rather occupied all day. A shame, since your company is always such a pleasure, Princess. Although my schedule is a little less busy for the rest of the week, so perhaps then?”

She could fake a murder! The planning and coordination it would take… the materials and the knowledge… And in such a tight timeframe as well. What a challenge! Avalie hides a catlike smile behind her cup of tea.

“I can’t wait.”

3.

Hamin hums as he surveys the rings and necklaces he’s got all laid out on the vanity. It’s a big day, a Big Day, and he’s got to be all appropriately dolled up for it.

He holds up a shiny gold ring embedded with dozens of tiny rubies. Or maybe it was paste? He shrugs and throws it over his shoulder. “Boring.”

It’s the Day of Tricksters, which is objectively the funnest and funniest day out of the whole year, and as the Prince of Pirates, Hamin has to live it up and be just as flashy. No, flashier. More’s always better.

But fashion aside, Hamin’s been looking forward to today for ages. Well, more like a couple of weeks, but with all the damn etiquette lessons his stuffy butler’d been hammering into his head, it had felt like years.

He’s honestly so excited he can’t see straight, not that he ever could, in the first place, really, but yeah. It’ll all be like a breath of fresh air, like that first gasping gulp of good, beautiful air you get just when you think you’re going to drown to death under an unforgiving sea of uptight nobles and salad forks, and what a poor death that would be.

Hamin slips on his rings and necklaces, admiring his tacky jewelry and flashy, colorful scarves in the mirror before sliding out the door with his supplies and into the hall. He whistles as he walks, and he’s whistling up until he crashes into someone else.

“Oh, oof,” the person mutters, sounding just a bit like a kicked puppy. He looks up and Hamin recognizes him. It’s the Arlish earl, Emmet or something. Emmet or something blinks wide blue eyes up at Hamin and says, stumbling over his words a bit, “I’m so sorry! Are you alright, Prince Hamin? Or, uh, Hamin? If that’s what you prefer?”

“Hamin is fine.” He grins and rocks back on his heels, subtly kicking his bag of glitter, gunpowder, and various other things behind him. “I’m not much of a prince by your countries standards anyway, Sunshine.” Ah, yes, the tried-and-true tactic of giving someone a nickname to avoid admitting that you have no idea what they’re called. Classic.

“Well then, Hamin, I’m glad!” Sunshine smiles at him before glancing downwards in confusion. “What’s that behind your back, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Hamin feels his casual smirk tighten in panic. “It’s, uh, it’s nothing. Just some stuff I’m bringing to my cousin, who I should be seeing now, so I’m going to get going.”

He’s preparing to dash away, one foot already sliding out with exaggerated slowness when Sunshine stops and says, “Oh! Are you planning a prank?”

Hamin turns back and says, slow, “That depends.” He can see a glint of mischief, of interest in those pretty, blue eyes, and he’s bored. Hamin’s willing to let someone in on his game if Sunshine is interested. He’s got nothing to lose and a partner-in-crime to gain, and he’s played worse odds before.

“Depends on whether I would be interested in helping out?” Sunshine says hopefully, cocking his head. “Because I, uh, would. I really would be interesting in lending you a hand.” He gives Hamin a thumbs up and beams.

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Hamin shrugs, beckoning the other guy to come closer.

“Wait, really?” Sunshine’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, really,” Hamin says, “So come closer so I can tell you what I’m planning.”

Sunshine nods and leans in as Hamin, in a low, conspiratorial voice, whispers, “So I’ve been messing around in the days leading up to this. Little things. Glitter in hair, salt in tea, little firecrackers in corners you wouldn’t expect, you know, the basics. But that was all just preparing for my grand finale, which is like, a combination of all those, but more.”

“The more the merrier!” Sunshine chimes in.

“Exactly.” Hamin nods approvingly and slings an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “C’mon. Walk with me.”

7.

Penelope watches Cordelia knot the rope with strong, sure fingers, and feels her heart flutter in her chest.

Cordelia was always so strong and capable, so smart and polite. Penelope wishes so much that her heart aches that she could be like her, or something like that. Probably. Maybe?

“-And you pull it through this loop here and tighten it to finish,” finishes Cordelia, her hands following through with a smooth kind of grace that Penelope can’t take her eyes away from.

“Um, yeah!” Penelope says as she tries to pretend that she was totally paying attention to Cordelia’s lesson on ‘How to Set Up a Snare Trap Prank for Dummies,’ and not, well, you know, Cordelia herself. “It’s very impressive how you know all this, Cordelia! How did you learn how to do this?” She beams nervously at her friend.

Thankfully, Cordelia smiles back. “I learned back… back home, in Hise. We all learn how to tie knots as children, for the nets and the rigging. And the traps,” she pauses and her eyes flit downwards, avoiding Penelope’s. “I learned how to rig traps when I took up embroidery.”

Embroidery…? Snares…? Penelope’s confusion must’ve shown on her face since Cordelia winces and carries on her explanation.

“In Hise, sewing is a common skill. But for a family so tied up in piracy rather than trading or craftsmanship, using that skill for something other than repairing clothes or sails is, well it’s a bit embarrassing and shameful. So when I took up an interest in embroidery, there were quite a few people around my age who took offense to that. They followed me around, pestering me about it, until I decided enough was enough and caught them all in traps and left them hanging to teach them a lesson.”

Penelope feels her jaw drop a little. Cordelia really was an amazing person. Penelope never knew that she had such a side to her, but instead of scaring off Penelope, it just made Cordelia all the more interesting and clever. “Cordelia, that was very brave of you!” Penelope says, her cheeks flushing as she babbles. “I could never have done something like that.”

Cordelia flushes and says with faltering composure, “Thanks. I mean, thank you, Penelope, but it really wasn’t much.”

“Oh, but it seems like quite a lot to me,” says Penelope. “What happened to those people afterwards? You let them down right after, right?”

Cordelia stops and nods slowly. She smiles, her eyes flicking away. “Yes. I definitely did.”

Penelope beams, and pauses. She and Cordelia whip their heads around in unison to the distant sound of an explosion.

Penelope gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh my God! What was that?” She turns to see Cordelia groan and press a hand to her forehead.

“Don’t let it worry you, Penelope,” Cordelia says, her hand still pressed to her face. “It’s just my cousin.”

[the-spoony-bard]

A Matter of Leverage - 9

Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening

Style: Leverage!AU; modern setting; adventure/drama

Word count: 3,964

Read on Ao3

“Woah, woah, woah!” Nowi says vigorously, shaking both her head and arms. “That’s not going to happen. I can’t actually change the numbers on the chips themselves.”

 “Isn’t that what you did before?” Robin asks, somewhat blearily, the aspirin yet to kick in. There was no note as to who left it along with a glass of water on her nightstand that morning, but she ranks Lon’qu as the most likely suspect. He and Olivia are sitting with Robin and Nowi around a table outside a bed and breakfast, though Lon’qu has his chair pulled out a little farther than necessary to keep some distance between him and the three women.

 “Not exactly,” Nowi continues, oblivious to the effect the pitch of her voice has on Robin’s headache. “I faked the information on the database. If Vasto scans the chip and notices it’s not the same one from before, the whole plan goes up in smoke!”

 “That just might happen either way,” Gaius grimaces as he appears suddenly behind Robin, plopping himself unceremoniously into a chair he pulls up from the next table over. “Swift Wing’s been driven off to a stud farm now that the current races are done. Who knows when he’ll be sent back.”

 “Not good,” Robin frowns, pushing her unfinished plate of waffles over to Gaius before he can even ask for them. “This plan can’t work without Swift Wing… Vasto’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I don’t think even Olivia can convince him to buy an empty horse trailer for twelve million dollars. Hmm…”

 “D-do we need a-another change of plans?” Olivia asks shakily.

 “No. We’ll just have to stall him for now.”

 “This is getting too risky,” Lon’qu says from across the table.

 “I know,” Robin replies apologetically. “But I’m going to have to ask you to trust me again. If things get too hot, I’ll pull the plug and get us out of here. Until then, this thing isn’t over.”

 Lon’qu looks at Robin for a moment in silence before he grunts and looks down at his coffee instead.

 “First, we need to get Swift Wing. Cordelia can probably provide us with a trailer. I’m entrusting that to you three. Olivia and I will keep them busy while you get Swift Wing and bring him back.”

 Gaius looks up with worry as everyone stands up. He shovels the last of the waffles into his mouth and the extra containers of fake maple syrup into his pockets before following after the rest of the team.

 ○

 “You didn’t have to come with us, you know,” Gaius reminds Cordelia, who sits stubbornly in the driver’s seat, her mouth set in a hard line.

 “It’s my trailer, and none of you are probably used to driving while dragging one behind you,” Cordelia replies, her voice somewhat tense. “Besides, I want to know exactly what’s going on.”

 “Does what we do bother you?” Gaius asks innocently.

 “I’m…” Cordelia sighs heavily, distracting herself with turning on the truck’s blinker for the turn much earlier than actually needed. “I feel like I should.”

 “Why should you?” Nowi looks up from her phone, absentmindedly blowing at a lock of hair that escaped her ponytail and now dangles in front of her eyes. “We’re doing this to help you guys!”

 “I know,” Cordelia sighs again. “This is just so odd. I mean, people that break the law are supposed to be the bad guys. Yet here you are, helping people in need.”

 “Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys,” Gaius shrugs as Cordelia takes a turn down a long dirt drive. Nowi plasters her nose against the glass to watch the horses out in the pasture. “We don’t get held back by rules and loopholes.”

 “I wouldn’t have believed you before, but maybe there’s some truth in that,” Cordelia admits, begrudging though she is.

 “Ooh, that one’s so pretty!” Nowi pokes Gaius’s arm repeatedly while pointing with her free hand. “Do you think they’d be okay with me riding that one? I’ve got the hat for it and everything!”

 “You like horses?” Cordelia asks politely. “If this morally ambiguous plan of Robin’s works and we get Luna back, you’re more than welcome to ride him.”

 “Oh,” Nowi’s face clouds over for an instant before it snaps back to its usual optimism. “Oh, I don’t know the first thing about riding a horse. I like thinking about it though! It could be tons of fun to learn!”

 “You haven’t ridden before?”

 “I grew up in the middle of the city,” Nowi replies. “And there’s not much room in the foster care system’s budget for trips to horse farms.”

 Nowi immediately buries her nose in her phone before anyone can say anything else. Only a few seconds longer, and Cordelia stops the truck. Lon’qu opens the passenger door to jump out before she can even finish putting it in park.

 “Don’t mind him,” Gaius speaks up in a clear attempt to push away the awkward atmosphere beginning to reign amongst them. “He gets antsy around ladies.”

 Cordelia gives him a forced smile, but immediately gets to business, leading them up to one of the stables.

 “He should be in here, but…” she trails off, eyeing the lock.

 “This shouldn’t be a problem,” Gaius steps forward, making a show of pushing up his sleeves.

 “No,” Lon’qu cuts in, holding up his arm to stop Gaius from going any farther. “This needs to be done without anyone noticing. You messing with this lock doesn’t help with that. We’re too out in the open where anyone could see.” He looks around, eyes narrowing as he picks out any possible sources of complications.

 “Okay,” Gaius shakes it off, rolling his shoulders. “My other option is probably an air vent of some sort around the back. Be back in a sec.”

 He jogs off around the building. Cordelia leans over to the side to watch him, her brows furrowed as he disappears from sight.

 “Don’t worry!” Nowi lightly punches Cordelia’s arm. Cordelia flinches at the sudden contact, but Nowi seems not to mind or notice. “Gaius knows what he’s doing!”

 “I’m in,” Gaius reports from over the coms. “And it’s tighter than I’d like, I’ll have you know. This would have been much easier if you’d just let me go in through the front door.”

 “It’d be easier if you didn’t let yourself go with all those sweets,” Lon’qu replies.

 “That’s a low blow,” Gaius retorts just before he stops above the right stall, then opens the grate to drop through.

 The horse snorts and jerks his head, startled by a man dropping from the ceiling.

 “Hey,” Gaius says quietly, holding his hands out at his sides. “You’re fine, buddy.”

 “Gaius, are you in?” Nowi asks.

 “Yeah, just give me a minute. I don’t want to spook this guy.”

 “We don’t have time for you to play horse whisperer,” Lon’qu cuts in.

 “Clearly you two have never dealt with horses before,” Gaius whispers furiously. He gently reaches out to scratch Swift Wing’s nose before slowly slipping the lead around his neck.

 The door to the stable opens a couple minutes later, Gaius leading the horse behind him. He hands the lead to Cordelia, who walks Swift Wing into the trailer. She claps her hands together once the doors are shut, giving Gaius an impressed look.

 “Have you worked with horses before?”

 “I had a friend. She was something of an equestrian back then.”

 “A friend?” Nowi leans forward, batting her eyelashes.

 “And we’ll leave it at that,” Gaius adds for good measure, climbing back into the truck for the long ride back.

 “Oh, I can’t just leave something like that!” Nowi protests, scooting up next to him in the back seats.

 “Why don’t you play with your phone instead?” Gaius waves her off.

 “Janaff can wait,” Nowi waves back.

 “Okay, kid. I have in my hand three toffees. If you promise to shut up about this, I will let you have the toffees.”

 “Ooh! Ooh!” Nowi grabs for them at once, but Gaius holds them out of her reach. The truck rumbles back down the drive as Cordelia starts their ride back.

 “Ah, you haven’t promised yet!” Gaius tuts, holding Nowi back with his free hand.

 “Okay, okay! I promise not to ask about your mystery friend!”

 “Why should I trust you though?” Gaius says thoughtfully. “We are thieves after all.”

 “Just give her the toffees so we can shut her up,” Lon’qu snaps, already tired of the ride over and Nowi’s attempts at serenading them with Journey’s entire discography.

 “Please,” Cordelia adds.

 “You’re all meanies.” Nowi sticks out her tongue.

 “Shake on it, kid.”

 Gaius and Nowi exchange a business-like shake, then Gaius holds out the toffees. Nowi pops them all in her mouth at once as Cordelia turns back onto the highway.

 ○

 “I have to say, Mr. Vasto, that meeting with you has been one of the best things to happen to me in a while,” Olivia says, smooth as silk. “I’ve made my friends very happy with this sale.”

 “You’ve certainly made me happy,” Vasto replies.

 Robin stands alone in one of the unused offices off to the side, listening to the conversation. Olivia’s heavy handed flirting has succeeded in capturing Vasto’s attention, turning it away from more important matters, such as where she leads him. He only just notices as Robin thinks it.

 “Hey, are you sure this is the right way?”

 “Please, Mr. Vasto,” Olivia laughs, casting a light and fleeting touch on his arm. “I know these stables like the back of my hand. They’re a little large, so I was just taking a shortcut.”

 “We’re pulling in now,” Lon’qu alerts them.

 “Good. Lon’qu, get Swift Wing over to Vasto and Olivia. Gaius and Nowi, you know what to do.”

 “Aye aye, Boss Lady!” Nowi salutes. Cordelia, not privy to the conversation going on in their ears, watches their reactions with mild interest.

 “Let’s not keep Abel waiting,” Olivia smiles after a couple more minutes have passed, leading Vasto out one of the side doors where Lon’qu is walking the horse out of the trailer.

 “There he is,” Vasto announces, a dark glint in his eye. “The horse of the hour!” He pulls the scanner out from his jacket pocket and hands it over to Lon’qu. “Would you mind doing the honors? I’d like to keep my bases covered.”

 “Sure,” Lon’qu mutters. He holds the scanner up to the horse’s neck.

 “6-2-5-0-1-5,” the scanner intones in its dry, computerized voice.

 “It checks out.”

 “Speaking of checks,” Olivia steps in. “There’s the small matter of that twelve million dollars.”

 Vasto taps at his phone a few times before holding it up to show Olivia the funds just transferred to her bank account. Olivia’s own phone tweets in notification of the transferal.

 “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Vasto,” Olivia grins coquettishly, shaking his hand.

 “The pleasure has been all mine,” Vasto replies before turning to Lon’qu with a far sterner expression. “Let’s get my horse into its stable then.”

 Lon’qu nods, walking the horse past them back inside.

 “It sounds like that’s my cue to leave,” Olivia remarks. “I do hope your investor friends are pleased.”

 “They will be,” Vasto chuckles nastily. “Afterwards, do you think…?”

 Olivia is nowhere to be seen when he turns back around. Vasto looks around curiously for a few moments before he shrugs it off to catch up with Lon’qu. Vasto looks over him smugly as Lon’qu walks the horse into the stall then closes the door shut, leaving the horse out of sight. Vasto claps his hands together as he immediately sets out to meet the group that awaits him at the entrance.

 The group of sharply dressed men all look up as Vasto appears, holding the door open for them. Jakob offers Vasto an appraising look as he passes him to get inside, not relenting it even when Vasto closes the door then speed walks to be at the head of the column, guiding the seven men through the large maze of a stable. Beside Vasto’s five fellow investors, Jakob has Swift Wing’s trainer at his side. In his excitement, Vasto hardly notices.

 “We have just secured ourselves a champion,” Vasto brags, pausing for dramatic effect once they reach the stall. “I’d like you all to meet Sol Achaeus.”

 “Gentlemen, I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but that is not Sol Achaeus,” Jakob cuts in, pointing to the door and what lies behind it. “And certainly not the lost heir of Secretariat.”

 “What are you talking about?” Vasto snorts.

 “That is Swift Wing,” Jakob clarifies.

 Vasto rolls his eyes, opening the door and gesturing dramatically inside where a horse stands there calmly. Swift Wing’s trainer lets out a barking laugh.

 “That ain’t Swift Wing.”

 “Of course it’s not,” Vasto smiles wryly, pressing the new insurance information to Jakob’s chest. “That’s because this is Sol Achaeus.”

 Jakob gives Vasto a wry smile of his own as he takes the folded paper, using his free hand to retrieve his scanner from his pocket with pointed care and holding it up to the horse’s neck.

 “4-4-1-9-1-2,” the scanner reports.

 “There must be something wrong with your scanner,” Vasto shoves Jakob’s hand unceremoniously to the side and holds up his own. The same numbers stare back up at him as his own scanner repeats the dreaded digits. “What?! I just put this horse in here, this—”

 “What’s going on, Vasto?” one of the investors demands.

 “How should I know?” Vasto retorts. “I don’t know how this horse got in here!”

 “You’re clear,” Olivia whispered as she watched Vasto leave to fetch his associates.

 Gaius and Nowi jogged past her, Nowi using her large hat to hold a stack of signs.

 “I put him two stalls over,” Robin reminded them.

 “Time to pull a switch-a-roo!” Nowi cheered, taking down the stall number and name as Gaius did the same to the other. Nowi replaced ‘Sol Achaeus’ with ‘Speedy Janaff,’ high fiving Gaius as they traded places, putting up the new numbers and names.

 “This is Luna,” Jakob says, the faintest hint of a laugh in his voice.

 “That…” Vasto trails off as he tries to wrap his head around his current state of affairs. “This can’t be Luna. I lost Luna in a poker game.”

 “Well,” Jakob chuckles humorously, glancing over Vasto’s new insurance paperwork. “It looks like you just bought him back. And you want him insured for twelve million dollars.” Jakob continues mercilessly as Vasto pales. “In the previous claim, you had this very same horse insured for three hundred thousand dollars. That, as I’m sure you know, is insurance fraud.” Jakob pauses to let this sink in. Judging by the deathly pallor of Vasto’s cheeks and the gritting of his teeth, it does just that. “I’m going to have to deny your claim on the fire. And if it’s not too forward to say so, I do believe you owe these gentlemen an explanation.”

 Jakob smiles pleasantly as he passes the paperwork back into Vasto’s numb hands, then turns on his heel and leaves him with one confused horse trainer and five enraged investors.

 “I don’t care about explanations,” one of the investors glares. “What you owe us is ten million dollars.”

 “Hold on a second there!” Vasto shouts. “This—we’ll—we’ll get the money back!”

 “Don’t start throwing ‘we’s at us. You’re on the hook for fraud. You can pay the debt.”

 “But… that’s…” Vasto licks his lips, eyes darting around helplessly as he searches for some way out of this. “Ten million is all I have left.”

 “We’ll settle for that.”

 Vasto runs his hand through his hair and kicks at the ground as the investors and horse trainer troop back out, leaving him alone. Luna stomps his foot impatiently, as if he’s telling Vasto that it’s time to leave. Cursing, he does so.

 ○

 Sumia’s mouth hangs open as Robin drops a stack of bills at least a couple inches thick onto her desk. Cordelia watches over the proceedings just behind Sumia’s shoulder, trying to fight off a smile but failing to do so.

 “This should be enough cash to have your stable repaired,” Robin explains as Sumia’s mouth opens and closes in an attempt to speak. “Twelve million more will be in your bank account in the hour. Oh, and most importantly…” Robin pauses as she checks a few pockets before coming up with the right one. She sets the napkin with Vasto’s signature down beside the cash. “Your first horse. Luna will be in good hands now.”

 “H-how did you…?” Sumia manages at last, picking the napkin up like one would hold something fragile and precious. “Is this legal?”

 Robin looks up at Cordelia with a smile. She smiles back.

 “Of course. Because of the fraud, the last sale didn’t go through. Ownership of Luna then reverted back to the previous owner, which is now me. And now I’m giving him to you.”

 “I…” Sumia sniffs loudly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Oh, what can I say? All of the ‘thank you’s in the world could never be enough for this!”

 “Just take care of Luna,” Robin says kindly, rising from her seat. “That’s all the thanks we need.”

 Sumia scurries around the desk, throwing her arms around Robin and squeezing with more strength than Robin originally suspected she had. Robin initially tenses, but relaxes, hugging Sumia back. Cordelia walks closer to shake Robin’s hand when Sumia finally releases her.

 “Thank you so much, Robin,” Cordelia speaks sincerely. “We’ll have to name our next horse after you.”

 Robin laughs, looking back where the rest of the team stands in a line by the wall watching. Robin feels her own heart grow softer at the looks of kindness they all send Sumia and Cordelia.

 “It wasn’t me that did all of this,” Robin smiles, just a hint of pride sneaking its way into her voice. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without my team.”

 “I suppose we’ll need to plan on getting many more horses for all of your names then,” Cordelia amends.

 “Good luck to the both of you.” Robin gives them both one last smile.

 Seeing that as the cue to go, the others file out. Gaius is the only one to remain behind, walking directly up to the two women as he digs around in his pockets for something. Robin watches in amusement as he pulls out a sugar cube.

 “Hey, can you, uh… feed this to Luna for me?”

 “It will be our pleasure,” Cordelia accepts it graciously.

 Gaius meets Robin’s eyes for a moment as he slips past her in the doorway. His smile is almost shy. Robin, resisting the urge to chuckle, nods to Cordelia and Sumia, then closes the door.

 ○

 It’s late when Robin is at last back in the comfort of her own home. The drizzle outside leaves specks of water dancing down the long windows as Robin slips out of her shoes and hangs her coat up beside the others on the rack. She notes that they have been tidied up, everything in neat rows.

 Walking around through her kitchen to her living room, she pauses.

 “That was a nice touch with the tourists and the camera,” Robin says to seemingly no one.

 “Your team basically handed me that one,” Jakob says, stepping out from the shadows of the meeting room behind Robin. “It was sloppy to keep letting her out of your sights.”

 “Hm,” Robin chuckles. “And bringing Swift Wing’s trainer really helped us wrap everything up nicely. Though it did make you look quite the fool in the process.”

 Jakob chuckles back dryly.

 “That paperwork you had Vasto sign also helped me save the company a massive amount of money in the payout,” he returns. With her back to him, Jakob doesn’t see her grimace. The tenseness of her shoulders is harder to hide. “You know better than anyone how much Excellus hates writing a check.”

 Robin turns to look Jakob in the eye, her face pained, but steady.

 “Robin, what happened to your son never should have happened,” Jakob continues more softly. “Not even Excellus himself can deny that the situation was terrible. …I read over the case.”

 “Then you know that Excellus came to the wrong decision,” Robin says, a challenge in her voice.

 “It’s not my place to say if it was wrong or right.”

 “You never hesitated to tell me your opinion before.”

 Jakob hesitates, his cool detachment wavering.

 “It was a treatment that could have saved Morgan’s life,” Robin continues, trying to smother the emotion building up in her throat. “But Excellus wouldn’t pay for it. Because it was experimental.”

 “I know,” Jakob says quietly.

 “Excellus let my son die. And I looked after that. Through other cases like ours. I’m not the first person to be screwed over. Corrupt corporations digging for more money is one thing, but beating down the little guy when he’s already on the ground… it’s too much. I couldn’t stay and have a hand in that.”

 “You’re not wrong,” Jakob replies. Robin can hear anger start to slip through the cracks of his usual façade. “I hate Excellus, Robin. Do not mistake me.”

 “Then why are you still there?”

 Jakob hesitates again.

 “There are some things that are more important to me. I need Excellus to get me where I need to be.”

 Robin makes a displeased noise in the back of her throat, turning away from Jakob.

 “What, you weren’t expecting me to drop everything and come and help you, were you?” Jakob asks. “What I’m doing is too important. I can’t let you get in the way of that, Robin.”

 “What, by helping you?” Robin retorts, spinning back.

 “You can’t help me with this little ‘above the law’ act.”

 “I’ve never considered myself above the law.” Robin sets her jaw. “I like to think that I’m picking up where the law leaves off.”

 “How arrogant,” Jakob scoffs.

 “Look who’s talking.”

 Jakob scoffs again, but has no argument for that.

 “I’ve been screwed over too many times to place my trust in those with power,” Robin says, her voice wavering for just an instant.

 “I won’t be so nice next time,” Jakob says at last.

 “Neither will I.”

 Jakob disappears back into the dark, leaving Robin alone in her apartment as the rain picks up outside. She wipes angrily at her eyes before the tears can even fall, walking quickly over to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle. She doesn’t bother with a glass, drinking the whiskey straight. Bottle in hand, she walks back to the living room to go up the stairs, flopping heavily down in her bed, careful not to spill a drop. She reaches for the drawer in her nightstand as she drinks, pausing for a moment to look at the pictures she’s retrieved.

 Morgan had his father’s radiant smile and his mother’s love for adventure. Robin chokes back a sob as she gets to the picture at the bottom of the stack.

 Morgan’s last birthday was in the hospital. As weak as he had grown, nothing could dampen his smile as he sat up in the hospital bed, proudly holding his birthday cake with five candles, surrounded by balloons and gifts from friends and family. The book Robin had gotten him about airplanes was tucked under his arm.

 He’d always wanted to fly.

  Robin sets the pictures back heavily onto the nightstand, grasping onto her bottle so hard that her knuckles turn white. She keeps drinking, trying to chase off the nightmares. 

[bloodywoes]

You gotta give them credit for being bold!

Man, I wished to watch them paint live!