#the “small” key is being uncooperative hng

[ythmir-writes]

fandom: Ikemen Prince character(s): Chevalier Michel and Vera (OC) warnings: none

prompt #1027 (from creativepromptsforwriting) “I could make you beg for it.” “I would love to see you try.”

a lil warm-up! maybe part of Vera's "official story" maybe not but just something something you gotta warm up the engine and somethng something The only tolerable state is having just written.' and my dudes do we fking try (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

The sun continued its slow descent, setting the ballroom in a blaze of red. The glass panels drowned the entire room in Vera’s colors and Chevalier found himself wishing it would not mirror so much the color of blood. Then again, that would be useless thinking. Knowing the identity now of Vera’s god, it was apt. 

And it would explain a great deal of the why.

Chevalier had never relied on luck in his life but in this instance, he knew it was simply that. It was luck that landed him this morsel of information. It was luck that he was able to see beyond what he’d been told. He loathed to admit it even to himself. If he had not been spearheading an alliance beyond Benitoite and Jade, if Obsidian had not been intercepted, if he had not been a voracious reader himself, he would not have the necessary pieces to Vera’s story.

Chevalier found himself piecing together their identity in his head. He did not like the picture he was forming. 

What to do now with this information…

And then Chevalier notices the exact moment Vera understood he knew. 

“Will you tell them?” They ask.

He frowns at Vera, follows the movement of their hand from the window down to their sword. He knows they know he is watching. Vera’s grip is loose but at attention. If they strike, it would leave him with little choice. He did not want it to come to that.

“That would be ill-advised.” Chevalier says. To which action he is referring to, he does not elaborate.

Vera does not move their hand. “I’ve gotten used to the quiet I’ve been having so far. I won’t let anyone take it. Not even you, Prince Chevalier.” 

“Anyone with half a brain could figure it out.”

“Then do not make it any easier for those with a quarter of a brain!” Vera exclaims. “Or a fifth!”

Despite himself, Chevalier chuckled. 

“Don’t.” Vera insists. 

“Do you think you can stop me?”

Both of them know the answer to that question. Vera would try and oh would they kill themselves trying. Chevalier realizes he does not want that either.

In a huff of frustration, Vera tears themselves away from the window, away from him, glaring all the while. They thundered towards the doors, footsteps loud and cranky, but then stopped, and turned back to look at him. “Keep this between us, please.”

A zing of delight. Say it again. But Chevalier stomped the feeling down. “You misjudge my intentions.”

“It is precisely because I can never discern your intentions that I am saying this now.”  

There is one way to convince me.”

“How?” Only Vera can raise their chin in defiance at him like this and live. 

How indeed? Chevalier regards them and discovers another truth for himself: he would loathe to see this vulnerability exposed to anyone else.

So, he starts to slowly close the gap between the two of them again. Vera watches him with that unflinching iron gaze, their eyes not leaving his face. Even as he stands so close, closer than before. So much closer he could almost see himself reflected in their eyes. She stands taut. He knows that look; the look of someone bracing for a battle. 

He wonders if he looks much the same. More than likely. His arms would not be so ready to strike otherwise. 

Chevalier knows he should not push it. There was no need to dig at them deeper. It should be enough for now that he had a key piece to the puzzle. He could unravel the rest later on. But Vera has told him their truth, although unwittingly, and he should respond in kind. 

What good would it do anyone for blades like us to be brittle? He wants to say, but instead what leaves him is: "I could make you beg for it.” 

The change is instantaneous and if there was a lock in Vera’s soul, Chevalier heard it click. Not only was the armor once again in place, it was reinforced with that strength that only they, among everyone he knew, possessed. 

Gold flashed in Vera’s gray eyes. They bared their teeth in challenge. “I would love to see you try.” 

Chevalier smiles, knows it is pleased.

Knows it is hungry.