#if you're wondering why i went with blue for raymond's color: variety

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

Eternal Diva Fic (Part 12)

We're winding down now, getting to the end. This is where the "AU" part really comes in. There's only one part here I might consider """canon""" here, and that's. Right at the very end.

Trigger warnings for brief mention of death (thought of it happening, not actually happening), mentions of falling from a great height, food and a brief bit of choking

Word Count: 1.5k / Previous / Next

He didn't plan to depart exactly like that, but Descole still managed to escape the professor and his group on top of his robot.  Victory was so close in his grasp… a few tiny mistakes had cost him everything.  How ironic.

The sting of defeat still clung to the masked man as he located and picked up his cape; it had whipped off him during the fall.  But as he was dusting himself off, he spotted a familiar head of dark brown hair.

“Clare…!” He said breathlessly as he ran over to her.  

Oh.  Oh no.  That’s right, she had fallen with him!  Was it an accident?  Heaven forbid she had dove after him…!

Checking her pulse thankfully confirmed she was still alive, but it was weak.  Doctors were on the mainland; there was no one on the island to take care of her… except…

With barely a second thought, Descole collected Clare up in his arms, wrapping her up in his cape like a blanket.  

Were this any other situation, he might've made a witty comment about fate tying them together yet again.  But now was not the time.

He hurried back to his sub as fast as his own injured body could carry him. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “You’ll be fine.  You have to be fine.”

His men stood at attention when he approached, but some of them got confused when they saw the “package” he carried.  “None of you are to say a word about this.” Descole stated it coldly and matter-of-factly.  The men mumbled their confirmation, and pretty soon, the sub took off.

~

“Aye, I remember her.  She was in Misthallery.” Raymond had come in with a first aid kit just as Descole requested.  The butler wasted no time patching up Clare. “What was she doing here?  I thought you only sold those tickets to the rich.”

“…I invited her.”

Raymond smirked. “You wanted to see her again, did ya lad?”

Descole didn't respond at first, and he partly buried his face in his boa. “I… wanted to test her.  See if she was worthy of travelling around with Layton.”

“Whatever you say, sir.” The butler was thoroughly not convinced.  The masked man rapidly changed the subject.

“How is she?”

“She's stable.  She'll need plenty of rest to heal.  You two will be stuck together for a while.”

“…Fine.  If you're all done, you're dismissed Raymond.”

“Aye.  I'll start making dinner for you both.” With that, Raymond left the room, gently shutting the door on the way out.

Now that he was alone, Descole simply stared at his guest with an unreadable expression.  She looked tranquil as she slept.  She didn't know how lucky she was that he had found her. 

The thought of her dying alone on that island, all because of him-- No, shake that off.  It didn't happen.  It worked out… at least this did.

He sighed curtly. “You are extremely irritating.” A pause.  

He found his hand wandering to hers.  He didn't try to hold it or even cover it; instead, he played with her fingers. “…But I suppose that's part of your charm.”

A stretch of silence.

“You really are some kind of masterpiece,” he finally said, barely above a whisper.  “Intelligent, bold, kindhearted, radiant: maybe not conventionally beautiful to most, but those fools just can't see the real you.”

After another beat of silence, Descole stood up and walked out the room, pausing at the door.

“…Sleep well dear.”

~

I woke up a little while later, immediately noticing the pain all over my body.  That made sense; I fell off a giant robot from who knows how high up.  It was a miracle I was still alive. 

But then I noticed the pain was not as much as it probably should’ve been.  That must mean someone found me and patched me up.  Probably Layton or Luke or Emmy or one of my friends.

But when my eyesight focused, I was instead met with an unfamiliar metal room and an unfamiliar older gentleman sitting in a chair near my bedside.  I knew I probably should’ve been a little suspicious of this, but my brain was foggy from all the pain.

“Ah wonderful.  You’re awake, Miss Clare,” the man said.  He had grey-brown hair with a mustache and goatee, a short stature, and a dark red suit. “Sir… Your host will be very pleased.  I heard you took quite the tumble."

"Tumble doesn't even begin to describe it," I grumbled, trying to wake up more.

"I apologize for thrusting this on you so soon, but you should have something to eat.  As I understand, you were eating very lightly during your adventure.”

In his hands was a warm bowl of soup, judging by the bit of steam coming off it.  He put it down and started to fill up a spoon, but I gently grabbed it from him.

“It’s… fine.  I… got it.  Thank you.” I was trying not to sound as weak as I felt.

The man just chuckled a bit. “Very stubborn.  Just like he is.”

I started to eat, being extremely careful not to drop anything with my shaky hands.  It was chicken noodle soup, I immediately determined.  And I also determined it was absolutely delicious.  Warm, comforting, hearty-- amazing.

“Oh, this is wonderful.”

“Thank you, Miss Clare.  Please let me know if you need anything else.”

“Maybe some water, please?”

“Of course.  I’ll let him know you’re awake and eating well.” He stood up, turned the giant wheel in the middle of the door, and walked out.

…Giant wheel?  Weird.

I knew I should’ve found this more than weird, but with the dull throbbing of all my injuries and the warm soup sending a nice calming feeling through me, I couldn’t bring myself to question anything.

I had almost cleaned out the bowl when the door opened again.  I nearly choked on a noodle when I saw it was Descole, holding a glass of water.

“WhaAT-” A cough. “-arE YOu-” A hack.

“Breathe,” he said simply. “No one here wants you to choke.”

It took a bit, but I eventually cleared out my windpipe. “What are YOU doing here?”

“Well technically, you’re the intruder here dear.  This happens to be my submarine.”

“WHAT?  What do you mean your submarine?”

“I found you passed out and wounded from your fall.  Your friends were on top of a giant robot; besides, it’s not like they could’ve gotten you to a doctor speedily.  I took it upon myself to nurse you back to health.  You’re welcome.” His tone only got a tiny bit smug at the end.

“Why?”

“To quote my greatest enemy: is it not the duty of a gentleman to help a lady in need?”

“...You’re an enigma.”

“Thank you.  I’ve been told that’s one of my more charming points.” I groaned and turned away from him as he laughed a bit. 

...I was stuck on a submarine out in the middle of the ocean with no way of calling for help. At Descole's mercy. The warm feeling the soup had given me started to ebb away for something much colder.

Descole had walked over to the other side of the bed and set my glass down.  He kneeled down to look me in the face. He must have seen me starting to spiral because he put on a small, easy smile. “How is the soup?  Raymond put his heart and soul in it for you.”

I decided to humor him. “...It’s good.”

“...If I had said I made it, would you have said it was bad?”

I grinned a bit. “Maybe.”

“Of course.” His tone suggested annoyance, but his expression said amusement.  He grabbed the empty bowl and stood up. “I suggest you get more rest.  Your injuries were quite severe.  You’ll need quite a bit of time before you’re ready to leave.”

“You’re… going to let me go?  After all this?” After a second, I jolted remembering everyone else. “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

“I’m going to inform Layton and his friends.  I’ll tell them you’ll be returned safe and sound once you’ve healed.”

I just… stared at him. I had too many questions and not enough energy, so I asked him the only one I could at the moment: “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He entirely avoided the question. “I put Raymond in charge of this kind of thing, but… are you comfortable?  Do you need anything?”

“Uh… I'm fine.  Just… hand me my bag, I guess?” He complied and put it right beside me.

“You really should get some rest,” he repeated. “I… understand you don’t trust me.  But at least trust that you’ll be feeling better soon.”

I didn’t respond, and he didn’t say anything else.  You could cut the awkward atmosphere with a butter knife.  Eventually, Descole said goodbye and left me alone.  I didn’t feel like drawing, so I just settled down and fell asleep again.