#the obsidianite jewel

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 20 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2690

Warnings: blood, wounds

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

In the following weeks, the 36th Batallion "conveniently" followed the princess' troops as the rebellion was swiftly snuffed out. And though rumors spread like wildfire no one dared to oppose this strategy, especially since the combined knowledge of the princess and the newly titled Earl swept the land of enemies and shortly acquired victory with the complete surrender of the rebelled Count. Yet as the victories and tales got told from ear to ear, soon they reached the pair both of you most feared.

"What do you mean you can't find him?", you asked an out-of-breath Jonathan the moment he had uttered his message, "Did he disappear?"

"I would not put it past him. This is Gilbert we're talking about"

"What about James? Has he learned anything?"

"Not that I know of", Jonathan shook his lowered head, "He should be here by nightfall though. Maybe he'll have some news"

Chevalier sighed at the sound of the argument as he stood in front of the entrance to Y/n's tent. He pushed the curtains out of his path and entered, immediately drawing the siblings' attention to himself. "You are not going to find him if he does not want to be found", he said as simply as stating a fact. The moment you fiddled your thumbs he sat next to you and drew them apart, taking one of your hands in his to hold and caress.

"He's planning something again", Jonathan covered his forehead with his calloused hand.

"Of course he is", Chevalier responded nonchalantly, "When isn't he?"

"This is not funny! He's definitely caught on to...this by now", he pointed from Chevalier to you and vice versa again and again, "And now he's a sore loser"

Chevalier turned his gaze to you. You kept your eyes low and your lips pressed tightly against each other. Even though you sat next to him, he could feel you were somewhere far far away. "Can you give us a moment alone?", he asked. His request seemed to take Jonathan aback until Chevalier gestured towards you. After that, he swiftly excused himself. The Brutal Beast shook off his white neatly woven hide. He elegantly wrapped it around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his embrace. His expression was still frigid as a glacier as he lifted your chin with his fingers, but his eyes emanated a comforting warmth for the love for you he could no longer hide.

"I...I'm evil aren't I?", you said before he ever asked a question, "I'm the villain in this tale"

Chevalier sighed. "You would not believe me even if I said you are not"

"He loved me", you closed your eyes as Chevalier's arms wrapped around you, "He loved me and I hurt him so badly for it"

"Y/n", Chevalier pressed his cheek over the crown of your hair, "Did you ever love him?"

"I...I liked him...I...", you tightened her embrace.

"Y/n", Chevalier urged softly, "You know what love feels like because you love me. Have you ever felt that way about Gilbert?"

"I...I..."

He pulled away a little, just enough to cup your warm cheeks and lift your face to meet his gaze. "I already know the answer, y/n", he said, "But you need to admit it to yourself". He brushed your hair away from your face. "If you had spent your life as you have, but were never engaged to Gilbert", he looked at your trembling lips, "Would you still feel so guilty now?"

It took a moment but you finally shook your head. "No", the word bullied its way out of your trembling lips. It hurt to admit. It hurt to admit the truth.

Using his thumb, Chevalier brushed away the few tears that escaped your eyes. "You feel so guilty over breaking a bond that was forced on you", he said, "You do not seem to assign it any political significance as these marriages often have yet you wreck yourself over not returning Gilbert's feelings. You are neither responsible for his happiness nor can you force yourself to feel something that you don't"

"But..."

His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue delved inside the cavern of your mouth, swallowing all the objections it had to offer. He nipped your bottom lip before he broke away, his warm breath exploding over your bruised mouth. "If people could truly manipulate their own emotions explain to me why I am here", he rasped close to your ear. Only when you met his cold gaze did you spot the pain and anger he fought to conceal. "Stop this foolishness", he held you close, "You met a heartless prince and taught him how to love. And it felt so wonderful he could never let go. THAT is what happened."

"It was my choice!"

"It was the RIGHT choice", he spat back, "If people repudiate love on queue I would not be here. If you were happy with Gilbert, I would not be here. This is the only path you could have followed-"

"Maybe it could have been okay and I ruined it"

"Enough with the nonsense", his hands tightened around you, "You said it yourself. You made your choice. And what you chose is to be happy"

"That's..."

"That's what it comes down to and you know it", he stole another kiss before resting his cheek on your head, "Are you seriously going to argue that you're a terrible person because you wanted to be happy? I might have a biased view of your image, but I guarantee you no sane person would ever blame you for breaking off a loveless and practically politically worthless engagement you were forced into. So why are you blaming yourself?". Your body relaxed in his strong arms. He let out a sigh before reaching down to kiss your neck. "The truth is, you feel so bad precisely because you're a good person. I would know, cause guilt is not something I feel when I'm by your side. It never will be. And the reason is very simple: you smile more when I'm with you than when I'm not"

You buried your face in his chest. You were grateful his cloak rested now on your shoulders, for you could truly be enveloped by his warmth. He was right about everything. No matter how awful you felt to leave Gilbert behind, you could not let go of Chevalier. Even that mere fact was proof of who you truly loved. You wanted to spend every day waking up next to him. You wanted his arms to never leave your body. You wanted his comforting voice whispering in your ear in moments when you wanted to cry. You loved him. Chevalier, not Gilbert.

You stayed locked in the safety of that embrace before your brother called your name for outside. The war might had been almost over but there were always matters that required a princess' attention. Chevalier gave you another deep kiss before you left for the central tent. He wore back his thick cloak and gave a nod of gratitude to Jonathan before returning to his own tent.

"Hello.....old friend", Gilbert said coldly as Chevalier entered, "Long time no see".

His eyes were dead, one blue and one red, both devoid of emotion. His eyepatch lay discarded on the small sleeping bag Chevalier used at night. Chevalier walked quietly to pull up another stool and sit opposite Gilbert. An unspoken conversation raged between the two geniuses as they contemplated what their first spoken words should be.

One of his spies surely told Gilbert about the situation, Chevalier thought immediately. He must have shown up here because he knew talking to y/n would be pointless. But what was he trying to achieve? The King himself had given Chevalier his favour and the plan was moving smoothly. No matter what Gilbert did, y/n could refuse him were she given the chance, and her father could easily command him to leave her. After all, Richard was the head of this country they were both sitting so uncomfortably in.

"Are you happy?"

It was not often that Chevalier was stunned, but those three small words spoken out of Gilbert's lips without a hint of mockery were surprising enough to make up for all thirty years of his predictable life. He did not want to provide a reply; there was no way to admit the truth without showing his weakness to his greatest enemy and oldest friend.

"You once told me I was foolish", Gilbert continued, "to believe humans were born to love"

Chevalier looked away. "It is indeed a foolish notion", he said.

"So you're still..."

"Humans were not made to love, but love can change them for the better", Chevalier's crystal blue eyes fixed on Gilbert's with determination, "I was astonished to find out just how much of a fool I am myself"

Gilbert chuckled. "Is that so? Well...", he twisted his cane to reveal a trigger. Soon after, he had turned his walking aid into a riffle that pointed to the Brutal Beast's forehead. "I've killed so many people in my life...what's one more?", Gilbert's voice nearly broke, his finger fiddling with the trigger, "I wouldn't want to live if it wasn't for her..."

"You're not going to..."

Chevalier's sentence was cut short by the bullet that lodged itself in his right shoulder. It knocked him back. He had to use his aching arm to halt his fall as he was shocked off his chair and onto the floor. He groaned in pain, his hand clutching over the wound so that the blood would not seep out uncontrollably. The deafening sound of gunfire still rang in his ears. Gilbert walked to stand next to him. Chevalier felt the cold barrel of the gun chill his collarbone. He frowned. His white shirt had already been half-dyed crimson. Gilbert pressed his shoe over Chevalier's hand that covered the wound.

"I'm more bitter than I thought", the newly revealed Emperor leaned closer to the young King's body, his eyes fixed on the blood dripping down on the ground. He reached inside his coat and retrieved a many-times folded piece of paper. He carefully shoved it inside the Chevalier's pocket before standing up again and pointing the riffle back at the man's chest. "You of all people should know I'm a sore loser", he spoke with sorrow, "But I'm glad to at least tell you...I was right...in our argument"

A group of soldiers soon flooded the tent. A few of the high-ranking generals accompanied them from a safe distance. Everyone reached for their sword. Chevalier gestured towards you not to approach the moment he saw you arriving. Your eyes widened. You squeezed your hands into fists until they drew blood.

"What did you do?", James arrived at the tent, out of breath and out of mind as he ran towards the two men, "Are you insane?"

"Oh hello little traitor", Gilbert moved the gun to point at James' chest. The fragile peace around them was broken. A few soldiers charged Gilbert from behind, locking his arms together, while others desperately tried to pull James away from the mayhem with no meaningful result. "Awww are you arresting me?", Gilbert smirked as the lock of the cuffs rang in the tent, "I have diplomatic immunity you know".

"That counts for nothing after threatening a member of the royal family", Jonathan stepped forward.

"Guess you'll have to take me to your father then", Gilbert said casually, "Shame to be kicked out though, I really liked this place". He chuckled to himself as he was dragged away. In the last moment before he left the tent, he broke free from the soldiers' grasp and ran back to you. He called your name before his lips stole a quick kiss from yours. He leaned close to your ear. "Be happy", he whispered before he was dragged back into the arms of his captors, forcing him out of the tent.

The crowd soon dispersed. All but you, your brothers and Chevalier left the small tent. Jonathan had a squire fetch him some medical supplies and he began treating Chevalier's wound, even though the latter explained he could do it himself. The moment all foreign eyes left you, you ran and knelt next to your lover, softly wrapping your arms around his hurt body. Your body trembled from relief as you heard the steady sound of his breathing.

"I'm sorry....I'm so sorry", you brushed his sweaty locks away from his face.

"You were hardly at fault", he said earnestly, "Though it was rather unfortunate"

"That's putting it lightly", James gritted his teeth, his gaze still fixed at the entrance.

"Calm down James", Jonathan huffed as he finally managed to take out the bullet from Chevalier's shoulder. He dropped it on top of his medical box and began sanitizing the wound. "We should be glad it was your shoulder", he told Chevalier, "You weren't even wearing armour"

"It wouldn't have mattered at that range", James commented, "What we should be thankful of is that it wasn't close enough to cause rupture"

"STOP!", you cried, your hands still clinging to Chevalier.

"It's fine", he took your hand in his and gave a kiss to your warm cheek, "He did not want to hurt me"

"The hell he didn't!", James said furiously, "I can't believe I let this happen! I still don't know how the bastard slipped away!"

"You think it was not his purpose to kill you?", you asked.

Chevalier saw a spark flare behind your eyes; you had noticed it too. He grunted as he pulled out the letter Gilbert had left in his pocket. The paper was particularly thick and he could feel the imprint of a wax stamp as he held it between his fingers.

"Is that a..."

"A non-aggression treaty", Jonathan completed your sentence as the paper was unfolded.

Chevalier scoffed. "Clown", he said under his breath. His uninjured arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body close to his. He buried his face in your hair, letting your scent conquer his senses and take away the brutal pain his body was in.

"Why the fuck would he do that?", James frowned, "He's got nothing to gain"

"No", you lowered your gaze, "He doesn't". Your fingers combed Chevalier's golden hair as he rested on your shoulder. Be happy, Gilbert had told you. He gave up, traded his own selfish happiness for yours and Chevalier's. You felt like you should cry but you could not. You felt your lover's breath on your soft skin, steady and warm and most importantly there. Gilbert turned himself into a villain and branded Chevalier as a martyr. He made himself into the final piece of a tale epic enough to sway the masses and turn their hearts on your side. The story of your love was now complete, ready to be passed around from mouth to mouth and build a steady fortress to protect your bond from the politics that kept you apart. "Jonathan", you called, "Is his wound okay?"

Jonathan huffed. "I'm done treating it for now", he responded, "It's nothing serious really, should be-"

"Can you and James leave for a sec?", you cut him off, never meeting his bewildered gaze. "Please", you added emphatically.

After that, Jonathan nodded. He pushed James by the shoulder and your two brothers disappeared outside the tent. Minute after minute passed without either you or Chevalier speaking. Your fingers traced the area on your lover's shoulder where the bullet had pierced through. His white shirt was shredded and burned around the border of the hole that had been left in the centre of a dark red spot. Chevalier pulled it back in place after Jonathan had finished stitching up the wound. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and you desperately sought Gilbert's reasoning between them. He had done what you could not do in the end; he had traded his happiness away for yours. If only things had been different...

"No", Chevalier grunted as he sat up. You looked at him quizzically. "The only reason I'd ever stop fighting for us is if you had found happiness with someone else".

You looked at his hand as he spun the ring he gave you on your fingers. "I know"

"I do hate the bastard though", Your brows creased with confusion but Chevalier was quick to dispel it, "I owe him now"

[lorei-writes]

Letters: From: Me ; To: You

(And Some of What Happened In-Between)

Clavis Lelouch & OC (OC Chart: Laura) Summary: A letter sent out in desperation, and how -- or whether -- it manages to rescue Laura from an arranged marriage. Word Count Estimate: 1k Other chapters: Masterlist

Content Warnings: none

Clavis smiled, golden eyes shimmering in the light cast by the crystal chandelier watching over the ballroom. There were few things in the space more dazzling than his smile, both impeccable and impenetrable, marble walls paling in comparison to his canines-fangs. He dimmed his presence, however, binding any wicked intention he might have held to the corners of his mouth. A hand resting over Esther’s shoulder, Clavis leaned forward, eyes trained on the prey before them.

Clavis smiled, golden eyes shimmering in the light cast by the crystal chandelier watching over the ballroom. There were few things in the space more dazzling than his smile, both impeccable and impenetrable, marble walls paling in comparison to his canines-fangs. He dimmed his presence, however, binding any wicked intention he might have held to the corners of his mouth. A hand resting over Esther’s shoulder, Clavis leaned forward, eyes trained on the prey before them.

“May the show begin,�� he whisper-laughed.

Lord Dönhoff’s private retreat was one of the few mansions of its kind, beasts from faraway lands lurking in the shadows of sparse ancient statues, furs shining and sharp teeth glistening. Were it not for their ever-still glass eyes, and the vividly constrained expressions unimpressed by the passing of time, one would make little error to think they still were alive. Ivory tusks, deer-like spotted abnormalities with necks as long as a man is tall, indigo birds with tails of hundreds eyes, all locked within a frail border of fine art, empty limestone pupils leering at smooth muscle flexing within granite. All perfect in their stagnation, the living could not possibly compare – not the guests, and not even the host himself. Only one breathing seemed to belong to this collection of sorts, elevated in her powdered down glory and jewels she wore.

Laura Sonne lifted her gaze, pale blue eyes growing wide as gloved fingers brushed against hers. She watched, careful as not to miss the moment he’d steal a glance at her, hot breath spilling over her alabaster skin. Clavis kissed the back of her hand.

“I am most honoured by your presence, Your Highness,” Lord Dönhoff beamed, brown spots sliding over his skull as he wrinkled himself to smile. “Allow me. Laura, Clavis Lelouch, the Third Prince of Rhodolite. Your Highness, Laura Sonne, my soon-to-be-wife… Although, if I may ask, who may be that curious thing at your side?”

Laura shivered, her shoulder blades drawing near each other as her body stiffened in alarm.

“Why, of course, Esther Materna, my lover,” Clavis spoke immediately, jovial as ever as he sneaked his arm around Esther’s waist. The attention, however, drifted away from his grin, and to her furiously red face, freckles peaking from below make up giving her an appearance of a ripe strawberry.

“Prince Clavis… no…” she squeaked meekly.

“My darling is adorably shy, you see.”

“I am not your darling,” she opposed, each word coming out as a somewhat deformed hiss, the sounds barely combining in the vat of thick, although closely undefined, accent.

“Please, forgive us. My sweetheart is yet to become fluent in Obsidianite,” Clavis explained, an even deeper blush begging to disagree with his claims. Seemingly concerned for Esther, he put his hand on her shoulder, and drew her closer.

Laura held back her breath, Clavis turning his face towards her for but a moment… But it was merely a moment, the Third Prince of Rhodolite she had begged for help directing any further inquiries at her betrothed. Laura froze, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she thought the situation over.

The music sounded off eventually, fortepiano eagerly conversing with violins and what other instruments felt entitled to share their voice. Laura let herself be led, ecru organza with weaved-in golden thread shimmering with each of her steps. She could have floated, she could have been in fact somewhere else – whatever it was that she did, it seemed no realer than a dream in which a white-haired porcelain doll came to think and live for herself. Her partner switched. Again.

“My, I can see that you can barely contain yourself. But, I must warn you, now would not be the best time to rush into my arms,” Clavis sighed, his frame locked as he held her hand. Laura held onto his arm, their feet being of the same mind. She followed, chased after him, both hurt and unsure, and —

“Your Highness… How am I to understand your presence here?” she asked, fighting against herself as not to frown.

“However you’d like.”

Laura gritted her teeth. “Am I then to think that you have chosen to betray my trust?”

“Hmm… If merely conversing with your husband-to-be qualifies as that, then I suppose I did betray you, indeed. But is that how you understand betrayal?” Clavis laughed, each word a serpent, a venomous snake ready to bite.

The dance continued, not a word spilling out of her lungs. Laura thought, and she thought hard, the music beginning to spin its notes fast, faster than it had ever had. “No,” she replied, the word an antidote in its own right. “Why did you want to see me then? Do you… Do you happen to have a plan ready?”

“Of course. A gentleman never goes back on the offer he’s made, after all… Although I may not have enough time to explain it now.”

Her lips parted in protest, but the look he gave her silenced her, a warning lingering below the pools of his eyes that suddenly seemed so close to her. His mouth twitched, devilish and devilishly amused.

“Esther is not too fond of dancing. You should be able to find her at the balcony,” Clavis whispered, his voice sinking deep into her mind, travelling through her body as if it was her own and thus could deliver commands. She was hypnotised, put in a trance by something greater, more convincing than any of her unspoken fears, something ready to pounce — “Your Rhodolitian seems fairly good. It’ll make things easier for us, Klara.”

The music ceased – and so he was gone, just as the last note died, leading her to question whether he was a devil, a ghost, a poltergeist of some kind, or perhaps truly a man. Klara let another hand take his place, another set of feet, another face, welcomed another pair of eyes surprised by the fact that she was flesh, and not porcelain.

[annbourbon]

Books on my List

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4.... *just in case lol*

♡ Susanna Clarke's Piranesi.

♡ More reccomendations by Neil Gaiman

♡ Demisexuals on Books

♡ The Mad Woman in Literature *Reading List*

♡ Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

♡ The Obsidianite Jewel (fanfic)

♡ Beg for me (Fanfic)

♡ An Indigenous Peoples History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

♡ 4 Classic Novels of China (easy mode/chinese)

♡ Don't let them bury my story by Viola Ford Fletcher

♡ Loveless by Alice Oseman

♡ Nameless (fics, master list)

♡ More books to add to my list

♡ Sci-Fi Novels that are not mysoginistic

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 12 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: a fuck ton this time

Warnings: graphicness, war, wounds, death, language etc

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"They say they found Eyepatch", Nokto ran to Chevalier's tent early the next day.

The tiger who was used to not leaving its bed until the sun was high up in the sky, rose from its sleep immediately. Grabbing the sword from under his pillow he wasted no time, putting a mere pair of trousers over his dress shirt before rushing to where they kept the captives. Nokto ran behind him. He called his name once or twice, but Chevalier ignored him. It did not matter what else he had to say. Nothing would avert the inevitable clash, the sole possible resolution in this bloody conflict.

There was commotion up ahead. Chevalier could hear the clanging of swords as he quickened his step. He turned around the corner to see her, y/n, holding a longsword with both of her hands and pointing it at his knights. Her hair was a mess and still damp, as were her clothes. Her skirt was ripped over one leg to allow movement. One of her wrists was still tied with the remains of a rope. She heaved as she stood guard in front of an unconscious Gilbert.

Her eyes met his. Relief washed over them for a moment before the defensive gleam returned to them. She took a step back, sword raised towards him, her eyes trembling. But there was something in them that Chevalier knew that they would not waver if he challenged them, even if the heart behind them broke in the process. He glanced at the ground behind her. Gilbert was breathing unevenly, his ebony hair stuck on his face, his eyepatch gone.

"Leave", he ordered. There was a moment of silence, but he merely had to look at his knights for them to realise he had directed the order to them. They swiftly obeyed, the ones that were not injured helping those that were. "You too", Chevalier said to Nokto without taking his eyes away from Gilbert and y/n.

"What are you going to do?", his brother simply asked. Chevalier gave him no answer. His piercing gaze turned on him, warning him not to press the matter further. Nokto looked at y/n. He sighed. "Don't be yourself for once", he murmured before he left the three of them alone.

Y/n lowered her sword, but her grip was still tight, ready to strike. The cluttering of armour died out as Nokto and the soldiers disappeared into the depths of the camp. Only the light rustling of the river beside them broke the silence between them. Chevalier could already guess how she had come to be here. Gilbert must have dragged her along, making himself to be the saint. Sick minds enjoy finding excuses for their actions. Chevalier recognised himself for the monster that he was. One would think he was ill of the exact opposite nature, denying his humanity when an expression of it was right in front of his nose.

She was so beautiful, he thought to himself. He had never been able to appreciate beauty as much before, focusing on a thing's or a person's practicality. Yet as she stood there, hair and clothes out of place, eyes ablaze with determination, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The only woman he could appreciate in such a meaningless way.

He fiddled with his belt until it was loose. Y/n grabbed the sword tighter. can't be put into words how much that small gesture hurt him even if he never blamed her for it. he took out his sword scabbard and threw it away into the buses next to her, where she could see it but he could not reach it.

"Why did you do that?", she asked.

"You answer me first", said Chevalier, "How did you end up like this?"

She gritted her teeth. "Don't go there", she said.

"So the fault lies with him indeed", Chevalier connected the dots, "Then why are you protecting him?"

His voice remained unexpressionate, but the human inside him threatened to intervene the more words came out of his mouth.

"Because you want to kill him", she whispered. Her gaze was lowered, apologetic.

"That would be the wisest course of action", he replied, "You can't argue about the effectiveness of the method"

"I won't allow it"

She was a princess in her own right. She had no obligation to be allied or loyal to Rhodolite. But still, if she allied herself with Gilbert, even out of necessity, Chevalier would have no choice but to...

He clenched his fists. He scoffed and mocked his own foolishness in front of her confused eyes. He could not do that. He could never do that. He could never do anything to hurt her, not any more. How utterly pathetic.

"Think reasonably", he said, "You're skilled with the blade. But you're in a camp full of knights. It is unthinkable to want to fight"

"I don't care"

That scolding determination that he had found so beautiful at the beginning was now burning him from the inside out. "I won't keep you", Chevalier began, "I won't hold you as a prisoner nor will I have you do anything against your will". He took a big breath. His eyes were glaciers as he stared at her. "But if you want to take him away alive", he said, "you will have to kill me".

Her hand trembled. Her eyes watered. His heart ached for uttering those words, but he was so happy that she was at least hesitating. Truthfully, to fall from her sword would be one of the best ways to go. His heart would long for her blade if he indeed had to go against her. The human inside him feared the monster he concealed, who would put duty over anything else. But that man was real, and Chevalier cursed him as he watched her raise her blade.

She stayed like that for a few moments. Then she let it fall to the ground, hands covering her face. Chevalier let out a heavy breath. He could not kill Gilbert. It would not be beneficial to do so anyway, since they fished him alive. But, most importantly, he could not become the monster she claimed he was not. As long as she believed he was more than just a pawn of his own duty, then he could believe in it as well. His dreary days were filled with the hope of humanity, something he thought he had lost even before his mother passed away.

He took a step toward her and extended his hand. "We can find a way", he said, "We can end this war without..."

His eyes fell upon the ground next to her feet, or rather what was not there anymore. But it was too late. He felt his own blade pierce him from behind. Gilbert breathed heavily over his shoulder. He had been so preoccupied that he let his guard down. Y/n raised her head. A terrified expression was painted over her face. A lone tear fell from Chevalier's eye. To the person who had never cried before it was as much as the waterful that poured from y/n eyes. She cried his name. Gilbert thrust the sword to its hilt onto the second prince's torso. Chevalier fell to his knees. Gilbert followed him. The black tiger coughed uncontrollably, spraying more red on the white tiger's already bloodied white shirt.

"I hate you", Gilbert laughed between coughs on Chevalier's shoulder, "I truly fucking hate you"

Y/n dropped in front of him. She tore her skirt and wrapped the fabric around the sword, closing Chevalier's wound as best she could. She was murmuring something about a physician. He would need one to remove the sword correctly. Her hands clutched his cheeks. Their warmth was the only thing keeping him away from Orpheus' realm. Gilbert had missed his vital spots, which meant that if he could stop the bleeding he would probably be fine. But she still cried as if he was dying.

"I knew it", Gilbert said, "I fucking knew it"

He flopped onto the ground on his back, laughing as he coughed more blood. The rustling of people filled the air. Nokto had heard something from the commotion between them and ran back with a group of knights. They restrained Gilbert, even though he did not put up a fight. Nokto called for the palace doctor, who accompanied Chevalier's troop. He stood mortified as his brother was treated, likely never having expected Chevalier to be in this position in the first place. The rest was a haze. Chevalier felt y/n hands comb down his hair as the doctor pulled out the sword. He was not about to show any discomfort or pain in front of his soldier, but he still clutched y/n's skirt. He could feel her tears wet his cheek as she brushed his hair. Nokto had taken Gilbert and the rest of the knights away.

"Don't stand, your Majesty", the doctor said, "it will"

"Increase the blood loss", Chevalier completed, "I know".

"Your Highness could you please remove his shirt?", the doctor was sterilizing the bandages in the pot of hot water he had carried with him.

Y/n's hands trembled as they undid Chevalier's buttons. Chevalier brought his hands to undo them himself, but he only managed to fiddle among them. He could not see well, and his head was starting to get dizzy. His inability seemed to motivate y/n and she managed to undo the rest of the buttons herself.

The doctor was quick to patch him up. Y/n pressed the gauze the doctor gave her onto the wound on his front as the former was wrapping the bandage around Chevalier's torso. A couple of soldiers carried a stretcher. Y/n's hands slipped from his as he was carried back to camp. His eyes caught Clavis before he was brought into his tent. For someone who tried to kill him every year and plotted with the man who had stabbed him, he certainly seemed very concerned. "How foolish", Chevalier thought, "He could at least make up his mind". And that was when sleep finally overpowered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Chevalier opened his eyes again he was laying inside his tent. Y/n was sleeping, head resting on her arms as she knelt next to his bed. She looked very peaceful, but her eyes were too red. He reached out to her. He stopped his hand right before it touched her cheek. He recalled the warm memory of her hands clinging to him. But now that peace was restored after the event, reason would have returned.

After months she was just inches away. He wanted to stretch his hand a little further and brush his hands upon her skin, yet that small distance that separated them seemed the hardest to leap over. Whatever they were to each other, no matter whatever feelings he had begun to harbour for her, they were more than just people. They were political figures, bound by the responsibilities of royalty. Her engagement to Gilbert was what kept her country safe, much like his potential marriage to a noble lady would be arranged to serve a similar purpose. Even if he gave in and asked her to give everything up and be with him she would not. No. He would never put her in the position to make such a dreadful choice.

He opened his eyes widely. Gilbert was their prisoner now, it came back to him. He sat up. The stirring woke y/n. She took a few seconds trying to open her tired eyes but eventually, they focused on him.

"What are you doing?", she put her hand on his chest, lightly pressing him back down, "You need rest"

"I'm fine", said Chevalier, "I have work to do"

She caught his hand. "Are you insane?", she said, "You nearly bled to-"

He cupped her cheek and brought his lips to her forehead. She caught her breath as he placed a single kiss. He brushed his thumb on her flushed skin. She wanted him almost as much; How in the world had he convinced himself otherwise? She'd be free soon enough. Free to choose her own life without the Obsidian threat defining it. Free to be with him, if she would have him, or free to make her own path in her country by herself. Whatever the case might be, he would make sure she would be given the choice.

"I won't exert myself", he said, "I know my limits".

Her cheeks were red when he left her in the tent. It was a trivial thing, but that image occupied his thoughts for the rest of the day.

He took care of the batalions' positions first. If Gilbert washed out in the shores of their camp it meant that the people looking for him were not far behind. They moved to the mountains, in a fortress that was easily defended by their small force. As he passed by the kitchen he saw y/n mix some sort of potion. He frowned. She poured it onto the food that was intended for Gilbert, her eyes saddened. He did not stop her, neither did he stop the food as it passed him by. The smell of ginger was subtle, but there.

After he finished his work, he found himself outside the fortress' dungeons, where the Obsidinite prince was kept. He placed his hand where the sword had pierced him. With his head high, he entered the room.

Gilbert was crouched at the far back of the cell, in the furthest possible place from his tray of food. He did not seem to have touched it. The door cluttered closed behind Chevalier, and that was enough to catch Gilbert's attention.

"Haaah...", he chuckled, "Shame. You're still kicking"

"You missed my vitals", Chevalier replied coldly.

"Guess I did", Gilbert let his head fall back as smiled, "Foolish me"

He stopped as he fell into a frenzy of coughing. He covered his mouth with his dirty handkerchief. He must had done it too many times since he was brought there since he could not hide the red on the once-white piece of fabric any longer.

"You're sick", Chevalier said once Gilbert regained his breath, "You have been for a while now, haven't you?"

"Excellent observation", said Gilbert, "Full marks"

"It's acting up. Did you stop taking your medicine?"

Gilbert laughed. "And why do you care?", he said, "Did you want to keep me alive to watch as you took everything from me? Was screwing my fiancee not enough?"

Chevalier's gaze narrowed. The black tiger was not himself. Sometime between the moment he left Rhodolite and the day they captured him, he lost hold of the pillar that was keeping him from collapsing. And yet, he had not lost his touch when it came to words. His last sentence grated on Chevalier more than anything else.

"Rejoice", Gilbert said, "You were right. Emotion is the most disastrous thing there is for a royal, and love is the worst one of all"

That was what Chevalier had once claimed. Yet he could not do so anymore.

"You have everything", Gilbert said, "I lost. And the worst part is you don't understand the most important thing you took from me"

"No one can take anyone from someone", Chevalier said, "You either lost them or never had them in the first place"

Gilbert grabbed the small cup they had brought water for him in and threw it at the cage's iron bars. The sound echoed in the stone walls of the basement. "Do you think you've won?", Gilbert said, "My father will not stop even if it means letting me die"

"I do not doubt that", said Chevalier, "I'm sure he would if he were still alive"

Gilbert was left astonished. Then he suddenly burst out laughing, a laugh that turned once again into a cough. "How did you know?", he asked once it died out.

"You're not the only one who employs spies"

"I seriously need to do some cleaning up then", Gilbert smiled before he added his last words, "Your Majesty"

Chevalier frowned. The doctor had let it slip as he treated him.

"That poor little bunny", said Gilbert, "Did you scare her into crowning you king?"

"I am not concerned with matters as trivial as titles"

"No you're not", Gilbert said, "So what now? Now that you know who I am"

Chevalier held onto one of the cell's bars as he sat on his heels. "Now it's over. Obsidian has lost the war"

"Do you really expect me to believe you'll stop now?", Gilbert said, "You are determined to unite the kingdoms under your rule. Do you want me to believe you'll quit this dream entirely?"

"That was not a dream but a mere consequence of a plan to protect this continent from you"

"From my father", Gilbert sneered, "That's what this continent needed protecting from. My father, and afterwards from you."

"Mere conquest and exploitation was never my objective"

"Spare me, I know who you are", said Gilbert, "You're as much of a monster as I am. Different kind, maybe. But just as hideous". His eyes pierced Chevalier like daggers. The tears that fell could have burnt a forest down all by themselves. "But she's not", he said.

"Is that why you <<missed>>?"

"I kill you and I hurt her", Gilbert said, "But you see, if I don't kill you, eventually you will be the one who'll hurt her."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's exactly so", Gilbert sneered these words before continuing, "You don't change. You'll never change. And you'll never love her. You won't because you can't. I don't care what kind of strategic ploy you have in mind that concerns her, but that is enough"

"You're in no position to make threats"

"Then kill me", he said, "Go ahead. That's the only way to truly be rid of me. The only way to stay alive"

"I thought you didn't want to hurt y/n", said Chevalier, "But it seems you just want to die"

Gilbert laughed again. "Screw you", he said, "Do you really think me dying will hurt her? It will more likely be the solution to all of her problems, and yours"

"Can't argue with that either", Chevalier said. He pushed the tray of food further inside the cell. He nodded towards it, urging Gilbert to eat it.

"Ha, is that what this is?", said Gilbert, "You actually did come to kill me". He took a bit of the porridge that had been cold for way too long by now. He frowned as he passed it around in his mouth. "This is"

"Your medicine I'm guessing", said Chevalier, "I saw y/n lace your food. Poison or treatment, I would not had stopped her. She has a reason to use either and both"

Chevalier got back on his feet. "Why did you tell me this?", Gilbert stopped him, "Why did you let her do this? Why do you care all of a sudden?"

Chevalier heard Gilbert's questions one by one without ever facing him again. "You said it yourself", he replied. "We are the same kind of monster. Plagued by the same troubles. Torn by the same burdens. Tied by the same strings. I know very well what she means to you. I know selfishness is a human emotion, and I understand how hard it was for you to keep the blade from my heart. And I will never say this again but", he turned to meet Gillbert's eyes, "I'm sorry. As it turns out I'm more human than I thought".

He took pride in that realization. Never before would he have thought such a thing to be possible; for him to accept being human as something to be proud and praised for. But she was. And she was possibly the only person in his life who saw him as such as well. If he were to lose her, it would not be by his hand.

"Chevalier", Gilbert called out to him again, "I hate you"

There was a knock on the door.

"Yeah. I'd hate me too", said Chevalier. And with that, he left Gilbert to the care of the newly arrived Sariel and went upstairs to meet with his brothers and inform them of their next steps.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 19 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 4438

Warnings: war

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

Chevalier took a deep breath. Once again in the span of few months he was clad in armour from head to toe. Only now, the colours he wore were not his own. The black metal of his breastplate was broken by the brilliant blue and silver of the crest that was carved onto it; an imperial dragon. A black cape fell over his broad left shoulder, the fur lining keeping him warm against the unforgiving cold of the north. James sat next to him, wearing a similar get-up.

"How are you feeling?", the prince asked nonchalantly as he twisted a cigarette to smoke. He laid his back on the walls of the shaking carriage that was taking them to the King's army's camp.

"I'm not sure what you mean", Chevalier lied.

"Have you ever fought for anything but your country?", the prince blew rings of smoke over the heads of the other soldiers that accompanied them. Chevalier did not grant him an answer. "How does it feel to sell yourself?", James grinned, yet his expression remained sad.

Chevalier gave him a stern look. Deep down James was right. Never before in his life had Chevalier fought for anything but the welfare of his kingdom. He was heading into an unknown land, to fight amongst unknown faces and for unknown people. He thought of the man he once was. How would he had laughed at the lengths he was going for the most useless of emotions; love.

Useless....yet so precious to him by now that even a step back from the fight would break his heart in two.

The carriage stopped. Chevalier followed the Istidorian soldiers on the mud-covered road. About thirty meters further away, on the grassy field of a hill, stood a fortified camp. The flags, blue, black and silver, dance to the tune of the cold north wind. He looked to his side. James walked proudly as he was welcomed by all who saw him. Their eyes looked up to him for salvation the way they never looked at Chevalier.

"You were born to be a King", Y/n's father had told Chevalier before they left, "But you never learned to be a leader".

They entered a great blue tent. Countless maps of the surrounding areas were spread over a long wooden table. A council of military leaders stood over them, moving pieces and yelling at each other as they pretended to discuss their next move. They bowed the moment they saw James enter the room.

"I'll be leaving shortly for Midsomer", James informed them, "But I brought you a replacement"

With a big smile, he patted Chevalier's shoulder as the latter glared at him. The lords looked at each other with confusion.

"With all due respect your Highness, we don't want a replacement. We want you"

"Awww", James waved his right hand, his left cupping his cheek like a blushing young girl, "That is very sweet of you general but it is for the King to decide"

And with that, he left Chevalier alone at the mercy of a rainfall of suspicion. He was no longer the absolute leader that he was in his country. These men knew nothing about him. They owed him no loyalty and had no reason to offer it. He gazed down at the map. He was never good with people, but there was one thing he was good at.

"We are about to be ambushed", he said as he observed the locations of the enemy armies.

The other men looked at him with disbelief. They were all old, none younger than 60, but their brows were more creased from discontent rather than age. He could see how y/n's skill and intellect could have been shoved aside when men like these served the crown.

"What are you talking about?", a short one asked foolishly.

Chevalier did not want to explain. He had never spent time to do so in his life. Yet, he took a deep breath and pointed at the hills to the south and the forest to the east. "To my understanding the enemy has canons. If they moved over here....up the hill....we would be well within their range. They would also gain the high ground so it would be almost impossible for us to retaliate. The army to the east has made camp here and has made no movement according to your scouts in quite a while; cause they don't want to. They are meant to prevent our escape through the forest, forcing us towards the river. But that would trap us later on.....over here". Chevalier let his finger fall on a waterfall about a mile away from where their camp stood. Scoffs came from the other side of the table.

"There's no way that'll happen", a man with a long beard took the initiative, "But even if it does we will no longer be here"

"We're moving?", Chevalier raised one of his eyebrows.

"We will be following the river upstream", another man with glasses pointed out. He looked way too old to be there.

"It won't work", Chevalier moved his hand over the hills that framed the river, "From what James told me the scouts have had a hard time tracking the enemy over the mountains to the west, meaning they could very well be hidden between the cliffs and crannies and we would not even know about it"

The men were pushing at each other, each doing their best to shake off the responsibility to explain their planning to their newly arrived comrade. "We are planning to launch an attack", one of them finally said, "We will commence a flawed siege of the camp in the east, allowing them to ask for help from their friends in the west and clear the path for us"

There were many adjectives that came to Chevalier's mind to describe such a plan. Stupid, moronic, idiotic....even larger phrases such as a waste of cerebrospinal fluid or the result of a lack of working neurons. He took a deep breath, barely holding himself from using any of them. This was not his country. He had no authority here other than what small power y/n's father had granted him. He had made similar calls in the past, sacrificing the few to save the many. But the sacrificial lamps in question had a greater chance of survival than those the generals were trying to save.

"It won't be enough", he said.

The general scoffed and glared in disagreement as their prideful egos ached from the doubting of their plans. "It will, boy", the man with the glasses said, "We've been doing this for fifty years"

And that was way too long already, Chevalier thought. He clicked his tongue. "Okay", he said. He was not going to be able to convince them of anything, that much was clear. He bowed and stormed out of the camp.

He had to think of something else, something that would not deplete the army he came to aid and lead them towards victory. He looked at the marvellous colours of the sky; the deep reds and oranges of the clouds were flattered by the softer pinks and yellows of the last rays of the sun as they painted the atmosphere.

"Hey! Newbie!", a voice rang, "Come sit with us! Get some food!"

It took a while for Chevalier to realise it was referring to him. A few scruffy footsoldiers were waving at him as they sat near a bonfire. They wore kind expressions and held out a few spare rations towards his way. It was clear they had no idea who he is. Unlike any other day in his military career, Chevalier moved closer to the soldiers and sat alongside them.

"Here, have some", one of them handed over a bowl to him, "It's not much but it's better than those dry old things they send us". He tipped over a wooden spoon and filled Chevalier's bowl with something that looked like stew. "Kayleb caught a rabbit this morning".

The soldier named Kayleb crossed his arms as he grinned with pride. Chevalier was silent for a moment of awkwardness until he remembered to say "Thank you". The soldiers smiled at him.

"I'm Trevor. And this is Derek", the soldier with the spoon said.

"So where are you from?", asked Derek.

Chevalier pretended to wipe his mouth as he thought. "Campagne", he said the name of the capital. It would be preferable than any other village, where everyone knew each other.

"The BIG city! That's impressive!"

"I always wanted to go to Campagne!"

It was a strange little atmosphere. One that Chevalier was unfamiliar with. There was no revulsion nor blind obedience. No hatred and no ill will. It was strangely comforting.

"So how did you end up all the way up here?", Kayleb was shoved by his fellow soldiers almost as soon as he uttered that question.

Chevalier smiled to himself. "I loved a woman I can't have", he said.

The smiles were replaced by frowns in an instant. "Oh mate I'm sorry", said Trevor.

"Did she have a husband?", Derek leaned closer. He took Chevalier's silence as confirmation. "And the bastard sent you here huh?"

"You could say that"

"What's more important is this", Kayleb pushed them aside, a serious expression on his face, "Did she love you back?"

Chevalier smiled again. With a few simple words, all memories of her came flushing in to warm him against the bitter cold better than any bonfire. "Yes", he said, "she did"

"Look at his face...", Trevor smiled.

"We need to get our boy some justice!"

"Love must win!"

Chevalier chuckled. His voice came rasp; he was not used to this weather. Derek passed over some warm mountain tea to him, in a rusty metal cup that Chevalier accepted gratefully.

"They're right though", Trevor patted Chevalier's shoulder, "Love is the very essence of life"

"Freedom"

"Beauty"

"Truth"

"And love"

They all said, one completing the other's words. "That is the bohemian dream", Trevor patted Chevalier's shoulder one last time before getting up, "

For the reader's understanding, a normal person would be touched by the warmness of those soldiers. Chevalier was not such a person; not when y/n was not around and had not been around him for such a long time. Yet the foolishly optimistic ramblings of those men posed proof for something else; that they would believe any good story told to them, and would support it with passion. And the story Chevalier had to tell was the truth.

"I'm afraid I might not make it that far", he feigned sorrow. The soldiers looked at him with curiosity, ready to return more words of hope if presented with sighs of despair. "I overheard the generals when passing from their tent", said Chevalier, "We are up for a suicide mission".

The smiles of his companions fell, yet they did not seem surprised. Chevalier frowned. The men did not retaliate nor panicked, as they usually did. As he had needed them to.

"I see", said Trevor, "Well I suppose there must be a bigger picture"

Chevalier could have sworn the wheels of his brain stopped working for just a second. That was not a response he ever expected to hear. "It's foolish", he said. That drew more attention. The soldiers plead with their eyes for his opinion. "They want us to split apart and escape through the mountains in the west while drawing the enemy to the east"

"I'm sure...there's more to that", Derek shook his head.

"There's not. It would make more sense to push through the forest with all our strength, even though I would not recommend that plan of action either".

"Then what?"

"The rest of the army is split between the valleys here way up north and..."

"And the northern wall between us and Astrya"

"Yeah they are guarding the border"

"But they're not that far away", said Chevalier. " We leave the camp as is with the fires burning and leave under the cover of night. The distance is not that great. We can walk on the wall to the east and the west and come up from behind them. This will also give time for the enemy troops to the south to gather closer. We will also be able to resupply. The wall is regularly travelled by carriages, to feed all the towers". His compatriots were nodding their heads, but their eyes were still unwilling to follow. Chevalier stood. "But the generals are too old and too prideful to do something as cowardly as a strategic retreat", he said, "So courageous sacrifice it is"

He left them there, to circle his words around the camp and in their minds. The next day the generals announced the plan officially. The soldiers stared as Chevalier sat next to them. He kept his eyes on them as well, commanding them to be ready for a new course of action. At nightfall, a scout returned. They had seen the army from the south closing in, dragging canons up the hill. Come morning, they'd be ready to fire at them. Chevalier proposed his plan to the generals in the middle of the camp after they broke the news. The soldiers he had talked to the previous night backed him up. In an hour, they were all ready to leave. Carrying only their essentials and the wounded, they left the fires burning and disappeared in the shadows of the north. After a few hours of walking, they reached the wall. Even if there were enemy soldiers lurking in those woods, Chevalier and his troops managed to pass them by unnoticed. They resupplied and slept in the barracks of the wall. A lot of the soldiers had not eaten that well in days. In the early morning hours, they split into two groups that marched to the east and west. They reached their destinations just before dawn broke.

Chevalier led the troops to the mountains. He surmised it was the more difficult terrain. Without cavalry or artillery, they had to rely on hit-and-run tactics. He shed his heavy armour and kept just his cloak for warmth. He encouraged the soldiers to do the same; those who followed survived, as they moved soundlessly through the narrow passages among the cliffs. He knew nothing of the area while their enemy was well versed in it. The only way to victory was surprise and skill. He split his force into small groups, an ill-advised tactic in any other situation than the one they were experiencing. He'd know- the generals fought him on it. But the smaller groups easily manoeuvred around the cliffs, drawing less attention than a larger force. On top of that, those who were defeated were not great losses in view of the army's total number of recruits, and at the same time managed to betray the position of their attackers. After a long day, they regrouped as agreed back at the wall, after calculating a significant blow on the enemy without many losses on their side.

After that victory, Chevalier was accepted more in the council of the generals, despite his rude demeanour. They travelled to the south and ambushed the soldiers that had dragged the cannons all the way up to the top of the hill to aim at their old camp. With their artillery useless, it was an easy victory for the King's troops.

It was at this point that a lot of the soldiers started wondering what was this all about. A civil war such as this had its consequences on the minds of the soldiers. They took comfort in the eagerness of the village people who greeted them and hosted them with kindness. Lord Grer who reigned in this area was the one who had rebelled in the pretext that his family were once reigning this land. Yet most of his people left him behind, scouring at the plague of war the lord had brought upon them and impatiently awaiting the King's peace. Those they met on the battlefield were the ones loyal to the previous order of things.

Chevalier looked at the prisoners they took and he could not help but get a sickening feeling inside him. In the world he envisioned nations co-existed harmoniously. But, right in front of him, was proof of the impossibility of this dream. Even after a thousand years of living under a common monarch, a region of Istidor had rebelled, brought war, and pronounced their loyalty to a King no one knew if he was the true descendant of the one that submitted. If Obsidian defeated them one day, would the people of Rhodolite act as the ones they were fighting?

"Things have been already better since Prince Edward became King", he heard one of the women say one day. She and other villagers were stirring fresh gathered milk over the heat of a fire.

"It'll be even better when the princess takes the crown", said another one.

"Bless her soul! She's the heart of our nation!"

"I've never seen any noble even come close to us"

Chevalier stopped. He turned around and headed for the small group of villagers. "The princess was here?", he asked frantically.

They all paused and looked at each other in confusion for a while. "Yes, she led the troops that just left for the fortress"

"Was Gilbert with her?". Chevalier waited for their answer until he realised they might not even know who Gilbert is. "The Obsidianite Emperor", he said, "He wears an eyepatch"

"I don't believe so"

Chevalier clenched his fists at his side instead of throwing them up in the air in a display of a joyous victory.

"I heard of that, isn't she marrying him in the summer?"

"Yes she is"

"No", Chevalier interrupted the villagers' talk again, "She's not marrying that bastard"

He walked as fast as he could without running. One of the generals greeted him; Chevalier passed him by without even hearing what the man said. He climbed on his horse and urged him to go to the south. It was not long before he realised the general followed him but he did not care. Soon the troops the villagers talked about came into view. They stopped, presumably to assess if he posed a threat. The general yelled something behind him and the soldiers relaxed. He rode to the front of the line to cut them off. He urged his horse to stop.

There you were, even more shocked than he was to see him again. He stared deep into your beautiful eyes. You were staring back at him. You were there. You were real. Close enough to talk to. Close enough to touch. Chevalier could not speak; he could only breathe.

"Your Highness!", the general said shocked as he saw you, "Forgive us. We come from the 36th Battalion. This is Earl Michel. He's new I'm afraid. I don't know what's gotten into him"

"Earl?", you asked. Your bottom lip was trembling even though the rest of your body was standing straight and calm. You were keeping it together pretty well, but Chevalier knew you better than to be fooled by that abnormal calmness. "I have not heard of an Earl Michel before", you said.

"Yes well...", the general twirled his hands before he frantically had to reach back for the reigns of his nervous steed, "He's a close associate of your brother from what I am aware"

"I was merely a knight", said Chevalier, "But I was given a grander title for saving the prince's life. Your father...the King...learnt of my capabilities and made the title even higher still"

"I see"

You smiled a bit but You snuffed it out. Chevalier could tell you were certainly finding it humorous, this whole charade, especially after he told you both your father and brother were accomplices in it. He had not seen you in so long...were you always this beautiful?

You turned to the man on her right. "Lead everyone to the wall. I shall join you later this evening", you said.

"Ma'am, that is too dange-"

"Name a better rider among us and I'll stay", you told him, "Since the 36th is here too I'd like to let them in on our plan"

The man nodded and the three of you rode back to the village. After a brief meeting with the generals, you asked that Earl Michel stay a bit longer for...disciplinary purposes.

"What are you doing here?", your eyes were already red with unshed tears.

"What does it look like?"

"Why are you not in Rhodolite Chevalier?", you said, "You're a King for goodness' sake!"

"Rhodolite survived without a King for a whole month it can do so again", he said calmly, "Besides, I left specific instructions"

You sniffed. "I told you. It's over", your lip trembled again. You took a deep breath. "The world doesn't revolve around you", she said, "I have much more important things to consider than you. And in case you have forgotten, I am already happily engaged"

"Then why are you crying?"

As soon as he spoke the word some of the tears you desperately held back escaped you. They ran down your flustered cheeks until they dripped onto the wooden floor of the small cabin you had isolated yourselves in.

"Go back. Now", you said, "Please"

Chevalier let out a deep breath. "I have two things I need to say", he walked towards you.

"Okay", you gulped back your tears, "Let's hear it then"

"I realised...I never said it before", he cupped your cheek, "Y/N I..."

"Don't", you shook your head, "Don't say it. Forget me. Move on. It'll pass"

"It won't"

He reached under his breastplate and took out a tattered book. Wettened and dried, stained and crinkled, but still whole.

"Is that..."

"You left it in my room", he said and handed over the detective novel to you. You hugged it against your chest as he raised your chin with his crooked finger. "I love you", he looked deep into your eyes, "That won't change no matter how many years pass"

"You can't know that", you gave up on holding back your tears.

"30 years", Chevalier said, "I've spent 30 years on this Earth. In the world we live in that is about half my life. Even more than that considering the amount of people who want me dead. Do you really believe after all this time I spent unloved, that I'm incapable of recognising the one person who will possess all my thoughts for the rest of time? You stole my heart, y/n. You did not burrow it. There is no bringing it back unless you're by my side"

"Chevalier..."

He cupped your cheeks. "I love you", he said, "So if you want me to go you have to say you don't love me back"

"That's not fair..."

"I know. I'm sorry", Chevalier left a kiss on your forehead, "But I can't say it. I can't deny what I feel for you. Not anymore. I thought you'd be happy without me. Happier even. Say that you were and I'll leave. But don't you dare lie about this".

"I...", your breaths came heavy, his gaze was even heavier, "I missed you..."

Your hands scrunched up his black cloak as you balled your fists. You did not want him to leave. You did not even want him to let go. Tears kept falling from your cheeks and sliding down the metal of his breastplate until he wiped your eyes dry.

"Happiness is a very fragile thing", said Chevalier, "I cannot promise you a life of bliss. No one can. But when it comes between you and me, y/n, you will always matter most. And I'll do anything to keep a real smile on your face...because y/n, even though you're beautiful even in tears...your smile is simply radiant. So, with that in mind..."

He pulled back his cloak and got down on one knee. He took your hand in his and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. "I know this might not be what you want after all this time you've spent tied to Gilbert. I wish there was another way to keep the nobles appeased but there's not. So I'll say it now...my goal and love will not change. But even if you say yes we will move at the pace you choose. And if you ever wish to leave me...well it'll shatter my heart but I'll do my best to go on without you", he reached inside a small pouch tied to his waist next to his scabbard, "I know people tend to use their family rings but I won't. It's yours if you want it but my mother never had love or happiness in her marriage so I will not propose to you with her ring"

Instead, he took out a gorgeous white gold ring. A blue diamond was nestled between the open petals of a rose at the head.

"If you say no now I promise you'll never see me again", Chevalier's smile was full of sorrow, "But don't think that'll ever bring me joy. If...if you love me...help me fight for us. And trust that I would never hurt you with false hope. Trust that I myself see hope for a future where we are both happy, together"

You kneeled next to him. His smile fell more the longer you took to answer. "You know", you cupped his cheeks, "My library has been excessively filling with romance books lately". He chuckled. You leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss. "My heart aches with the love I have for you", you laid your head on his broad shoulder, "You say you care more about my happiness than yours...but the problem is, that's the same for me"

"I figured", Chevalier combed your hair with his fingers, "But for once please choose for yourself. Humans are born selfish. Don't ask me to be one and then deny yourself the right".

"Gilbert will be furious"

"I know. We'll cross that bridge when we have to"

You clenched your hands as they held him. "I...I'm scared", you said, "He'll try to hurt you. Kill you"

"He already did"

You raised your head. Chevalier cupped your cheek.

"Even if he succeeds, which is very unlikely, I will not have any regrets. Not about you. Not about us"

"Chevalier..."

"I love you", he held your face, "Do you love me?"

A moment passed before you let out a shuddering breath. "Yes...more than anything I ever did. More than anything I ever will"

He pulled you in for a kiss. "Then there's only one answer, even if you don't want to say it", he picked up your hand and wore the ring on your finger. He kissed your knuckles again. With his hand he brushed your hair away from your face. "You're my everything, y/n", he said, his voice dripping with more emotion than he ever showed in his life, "If you take everything away, all that is left is nothing. Do you think I'll ever be happier like that?"

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 16 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2268

Warnings: language

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Hey sis", Jonathan gave you a sad smile, "Want me to bring you anything?"

You shook your head, never taking your eyes away from the orange hues that painted the horizon. "No thank you, I'm alright", you said softly.

Jonathan looked at your bare feet, toes scraping the wet sand as the waves kissed them. The hem of your dress, already wet by the ocean, was stuck on your calves as you dangled your legs under the rock on which you sat. Your eyes looked empty; your face remained expressionless when you did not have to face him. He had never seen you look this sad. Even when your heart ached in the past you always used to put on a show for the people you loved; now it was not enough to mask your pain.

"You'll catch a cold", he said, "Please come inside"

"I won't", you assured him, "I'll go back in in a bit. I just want to see the sunset"

Jonathan bit his lip. He wanted to cry. Eventually, he nodded and left you on the secluded beach, climbing back up the stairs to the castle. He rubbed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was standing outside the new King's office. He heard murmurs; then steps. He ran to hide in the shadows of the nearest column. The door opened.

"I appreciate it, Your Majesty", Gilbert stood proud at the height of an Emperor. He had announced his new title as soon as he and y/n returned to Istidor.

The moment Gilbert was gone, Emerich ran back to the office. He stood in front of the closed door until he gathered enough courage to knock.

"Come in", his father's rough voice came from inside.

It was a wonder how Jonathan kept himself from trembling as he stepped inside. King Edward sat on a large chair, his arms resting on the sides. His face was scared from battle, his hands were calloused from training. His longsword leaned against his desk, taller than half of Jonathan's height already. He was proof that some people were born to rule.

"Jonathan", he said as if addressing a soldier rather than a son, "What is the matter?"

His eyes were still glued on his paperwork as Jonathan approached his desk.

"It's y/n", he said, "I don't think she's alright".

The King raised his gaze along with one of his thick eyebrows.

"She doesn't love Gilbert", Jonathan continued.

King Edward let out a heavy sigh. "Love is a luxury for people like us. he said, "Marriage is built on things much sturdier than love. Things that come with time"

"But why can't she have both?", Jonathan took a step forward, "You're King now so our fates are finally in your hands. Chevalier-"

"You said yourself that that man's goal is to unite the continent under his name", the King intervened, "What he wants is our army and our gold. As a King, I cannot trust a sliver of my Kingdom to a man like him and as a father, I surely cannot concede that my daughter spends her days with someone who sees her as his key to power".

Jonathan covered his face with his hand. Those were his thoughts indeed. He had discussed the matter with his father when y/n first told him about her feelings for Chevalier. He never expected this escalation. But after speaking with Chevalier in person he had seen for himself that there was a heart behind those cruel eyes, and that heart bled from love. "I'm not so sure that is the case", he said quietly.

"I cannot base this decision on your instinct alone. I need facts. Gilbert loves her and I know he aims to build a new name for the Obsidianite Empire, one that is not a synonym of war. But all I've heard about Chevalier is his gruesome feats in combat and the countless assassins after him"

"Y/n is not stupid. She'd know if-"

"You're very smart yourself, Jonathan", the King interrupted him once more, "Yet you should know more than anyone how blinding love can be".

Jonathan lowered his gaze. His father was right. "I understand I'm not the best person to be speaking about judge of character", he said softly, "Still, wouldn't it be worth it to give it a chance? Don't you wish that y/n has what you and Mom did?"

King Edward leaned back on his chair. He brought his hand to his lips, taking a moment to consider his son's words. "Alright", he finally said, "You are right. Ruling is a hard and lonely job. If y/n has someone she loves by her side it will be a hell of a lot more bearable". He leaned closer. "Go find him. Convince him to speak to me. But don't tell him anything about my concernsof him", the King continued, "That said, Jonathan, I don't want you causing commotion either".

Jonathan frowned. "Of course I won-"

"I mean it", King Edgard narrowed his eyes, "Don't tempt any rumours and especially don't let your brother get too involved. We don't want another scandal"

Jonathan bowed his head. He nodded so that his father knew that he understood. "Yes father", he said, "Thank you"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sneak attack!", Clavis drew everyone's attention to him as he charged in the dining hall, sword in hand, heading straight towards his older brother. Everyone's attention but Chevalier's it seems, who continued to casually flip the pages of his book even as Clavis' sword stopped mere inches from his head.

"Clavis, are you insane?", Emma shrieked but Clavis ignored her.

"That could have killed you, you know", the jester prince smiled nervously.

Chevalier breathed a heavy sigh. "I don't have time for your adolescent nonsense", he flipped another page in his book.

"Clavis, put that thing away!", Leon got off his seat.

"You always have time for my adolescent nonsense when something is not bothering you", Clavis's gaze did not waver.

Chevalier finally tore his eyes away from his book to meet his brother's. He always pushed even when -no, especially when- Chevalier did not want him to.

"Rejoice! It's your birthday! And I know how to cheer you up", Clavis finally returned his sword to his scabbard, "I have a surprise for you!"

"I've heard enough", Chevalier pushed his chair back and headed towards the library, where he had resulted to spend his nights.

"You'll regret it if you don't come, I'm afraid"

"Clavis, is this another pitfall?", Yves's tired voice was heard from the other side.

"Gods no!", Clavis cheered, "Those are reserved for you, little brother, cause you just look so adorable all scrambled up!"

"Fine", Chevalier cut him off, "But if you waste my time be ready to meet the consequences"

"Oooh scary...", Clavis shook his palms before throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder. Chevalier looked at him with repulsion. "Don't worry, I am the best at giving people gifts"

Clavis led Chevalier to a secluded part of the garden. Anyone else would be crawling with nervousness, but Chevalier merely rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and waited for Clavis to reveal his card. He did not know why he entertained his foolishness but deep down he hoped that he had indeed found a way to make his days more bearable. Because if anyone would have noticed the cracks that ran through his heart no matter the pretence he put on to perform his royal duties, it would be him.

"We have arrived", Clavis said proudly as they reached the gazebo.

Chevalier raised his eyebrow; there was nothing here.

No. There was only a shadow. He had almost missed it.

He turned his head and that's when he saw him; showered by the darkness of the early night, Jonathan leaned against one of the gazebo's pillars. Chevalier's heart fell. No matter how unlikely he still hoped his eyes would meet the beautiful shine of y/n's under the moonlight.

"If you've come to kill me perhaps you should divert your attention to the actual threat", he told him blankly.

"Impressive", Jonathan smiled, "People don't tend to notice me"

"Say that after I find you when you didn't want to be noticed", the Rholoditian King climbed the steps to meet the foreign prince. "What do you want?", he asked.

Chevalier frowned. Why and how would he help him? His mind raced through the worst case scenarios. His brows furrowed in anger, "Did he do something?"

"No", Jonathan pushed himself off the column, "She's fine- well-".

The prince took a deep breath. He kept his head low as he shook it. He walked past Chevalier. The King suddenly felt lighter. He turned around; Jonathan had swiped the book he had been reading. Chevalier observed as the prince read the title, along with the inscription behind the cover. There was no chance he would not recognize one of his sister's books. She had left it behind before hurriedly returning to Istidor, and it was all Chevalier had been reading ever since.

"It appears your brother was right", Jonathan spared Clavis a look before returning it to Chevalier, "You're not well either"

Chevalier gave his brother an angry look. "Hey don't look at me", Clavis shook his hands,"I said I was happy to see you in pain"

"Clavis."

The jester prince responded with a heavy sigh to Jonathan's scolding. His amused expression gave way to a serious one, publicly for the first time in years. "I hate myself for saying this", he hesitantly muttered, "but you look like father".

That sentence reminded Chevalier that he owned a heart, because at that moment it sunk to the depths of the Earth. "I'm not him", he said, the feeling of y/n tears drenching his shirt after that man had assaulted her suddenly feeling once again all too real.

"I'm not saying you are but...".

Clavis shoved his hands in his pockets. He let out a heavy sigh and turned his head away. "Don't make me say it, you piece of shit"

"You two are gonna make me cry", Jonathan scoffed, "You look like shit and he's worried about you. And I worry about my sister"

"She made her own choice", Chevalier said firmly, "I have no right to-"

"Do you love her?", Jonathan interrupted. He took a step closer as Chevalier frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"It's a simple question ", Jonathan continued, "Do. You. Love. Her?"

Chevalier stiffened. He hated this question. He hated how it called on the feeling he once despised and now held dearer than his own life. And most of all he hated that he had to admit it for the first time to someone other than y/n; but he knew Jonathan would not take anything other than "yes" or "no" for an answer.

"You know I do", his voice came strangled.

Jonathan nodded. "Then fight for her"

"That battle was lost the moment we were born"

"That's not true. There's", Jonathan appeared reluctant, "Two things stand in your way: the King's council and the King himself. My brother can help you appeal to the nobles. But you have to speak to my father yourself"

"And your brother will help?"

"Well", Jonathan rubbed the nape of his neck, "I guess you have to talk to him too. I can come with, but he won't speak to me"

Someone else would have asked why. But it did not matter to Chevalier. "So where is he?"

"I....don't know"

"He's in Benitoite", Clavis reminded them with his melodious voice that he was still there. "What?", he shook his shoulders, "I like him so I keep tabs"

"That's concerning"

"Agreed"

Both Chevalier and Jonathan said. But there was no other option.

"You two geniuses think there is no way for you to be together", Jonathan remarked, "But did you even try to find one?"

Chevalier did not respond. The foreign prince was right. Going against y/n's choices was what he wanted least, but the moment she was ripped away from him his will to follow up on that notion became much weaker. If Jonathan was right, that she felt the same as him, and he could present her a path they could walk down together then he had to do it.

"Clavis", he said, "Fetch Four-Eyes"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles away, in the luscious land of Istidor, Gilbert threw an arm around his beloved's shoulders as he sat next to her on the couch. She did not push him away but neither did she cuddle closer to him as his arms enveloped her.

"What are you reading?", he rested his chin on her shoulders.

She flipped another page on the old and tattered book. "I just found it", she shook her shoulders, "It's poems. You wouldn't like it"

"I like poems", Gilbert reached for the book. He flipped to see the cover. "The romance of the rose", he read. Y/n pulled her legs to her chest. "Thus, if I ever knew the sickness of love, you will carry on with little sleep, throughout the night", Gilbert read, "And when you can’t bear your suffering lying awake in your bed, you will have to dress, put on your shoes, and adorn yourself. Then, whether it is raining or freezing, you will go in secret directly to the house of your sweetheart, who will be sound asleep, with hardly a thought of you "

"I think i'll just go to bed", y/n hurriedly put on her slippers and ran upstairs to the bedchambers.

"Oo...kay?", Gilbert was left dumbfounded, with only the book and the memory of her warmth as his company. Gilbert closed the book and checked the cover once again. He clenched his fist. He did not know the exact details, but he felt it in his bones that this was about Chevalier; it was always about Chevalier.

He threw the book away and covered his bare eye with his hand. He had won her hand back, but he could never reclaim her heart.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 14 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 3329

Warnings: none

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Be quiet!", whispered Yves, "We'll get an earful if we're noticed"

"Oh come on", laughed Leon, "We're hardly children. Sariel can't say anything to us. And I doubt his majesty cares"

He winked at Emma as he climbed atop the bannister and slid all the way down to the ground floor. Emma laughed as the lion prince took a graceful bow.

Yves blew his fringe away from his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you weren't this familiar with my girlfriend", he murmured.

Emma slowed down her pace and leaned in to give him a small peck on the cheek. Yves' face turned red like a radish. He turned his head away, his honey-blonde hair falling over his blushed cheeks and nose, keeping them out of sight. But his shy smile was evident.

Licht greeted the two of them at the entrance. He was standing straight, hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked around for guards and signalled the rest to follow, treating their childish dalliance as an important military mission. Jin was with him, body sprayed on the stairs as he enjoyed a glass of whiskey and smiled at the silly seriousness of his younger brother.

The five of them made their way to town. It was no accident that the guards left them alone, as attempting to stop them would be going against their orders. However, they all treated the lack of resistance as proof of their successful endeavour. They reached a small tavern, tucked in an alley near the central square. Jin and Leon favoured that place and always took any opportunity to steal some time in there. For Yves and Licht it was a first. Yves would not be there at all if Jin had not convinced Licht to follow them on that day, claiming there was suspicious movement in the area; a lie, of course.

They bathed in the golden candlelight of the tavern the moment they opened its door, a far contrast to the blue hue of the night that reigned in the town. A sweet tune on the lute filled their ears. The atmosphere was warmer than usual, that much was clear. The place was much more crowded, even though it was later at night than when the princes used to frequent. People sat on their tables all around, their backs turned to the door, drinks in hand as they looked at the far back of the room. Their gazes were focused on a slim young man with untamable curly hair. He was the one playing the lute, his dexterous fingers plucking the strings with grace and elegance as he sang his song as if he were telling a story. The people were drawn as much from his voice as from his smile. He played a few chords, setting an end to the ballad.

He laughed as he called, "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you remember the words!"

He smiled sneakily at his audience as he climbed up on a small stage behind him, where a small band of local musicians sat. He began playing again, his tempo shifting to a much faster one. He started singing loudly, pouring all his passion into the words as the band joined alongside him.

"And a princess gone and two brothers left from a kingdom's rotten view

though she was first and valiant, a black sword ran her through",

he climbed on the nearest table,

"And though they never could amount to her talent and her wit

they still looked up and loved her cause she'd do the same for him.

Oh the Thorn Princess, the destined Queen,

a guardian of the weak.

The Thorn Princess, the destined Queen,

the one whose crown we'll free"

His green eyes sparkled as he took in the applause that followed his song. He gave a graceful bow, executed to perfection and better than any actor's ever dreamed.

"Thank you, thank you!", he cried, hand elegantly waving in the air His eyes had already spotted the small company of royals, even though they were doing a decent job of being inconspicuous. He approached their table after they sat (and he had gathered a fair amount of coins from the crowd around him). "Greetings new friends", he said. His foot on the bench, he placed his elbow on his knee to lean in towards them. "You don't seem to belong here", he whispered. His eyes darted towards Yves for a moment. He was still smiling charmingly. His voice was anything but threatening, but Yves still took offence, talking over Leon's awkward laugh.

"I'm sorry, but what do you mean like that?", he said, "What did we even do? You're the one who's new he-"

"Your gold pendant, your highness", the young man said calmly. He remained calm in front of Yves' exaggerated tantrum, never raising his voice.

At the sight of his own pendant, peaking under his shirt, Yves was thrown into a frantic effort to hide it back again. His hands covered his face, shielding it from the man's gaze. "Thank you", he spat, almost as if he was made to do so.

"You are most welcome", the young man said.

"How do you know of our heritage?", Leon frowned, "You don't seem from around here. We might as well have been rhodolitian nobility who were able to afford a trinket like that"

"Trinket?", the word caused Yves to show his face once more. Leon smiled at him.

"I grew up serving in a palace", the man said, "You hear all sorts of things in the halls, and see all sorts of things". He backed away and brought his hand to his heart as he took a bow. "My name is Jonathan Lively", he said, "Your loyal bard".

"I loved your song Jonathan!", Emma cheered.

"Ah a compliment by the most beautiful of ladies", the bard placed a hand on his hand, "i play to live up to your kind words"

"That's a northern accent", Jin commented, "Where are you from?"

"Oh, all sorts of places honestly", Jonathan responded, " My mother is from Jade, my father considers himself to be one with the Wolf tribe of the north but I grew up in Benitoite"

"Oh so that's how you know so much about Rhodolite", Emma smiled.

"I suppose you could say flower", Jonathan sweetly smiled back. He scratched his nape with his hand. "I don't really consider myself Benitonian though. I don't agree with their work-first lifestyle", he laughed.

The waiter brought the drinks the company ordered to their table and added a beer for the musician, on the house of course.

"So who's the princess?", Licht asked after a strong sip of his drink, "Who's the story about?"

Jonathan focused his eyes on his drink. "Someone I've heard tales about my whole life", he said.

"Hey Jonathan!", one of the villagers cried, "Sing us another song will 'ya?"

Jonathan giggled over his beer. He raised his head proudly. "Well I must go", he said. He gulped down his beer and shook his head to shake off the dizziness that followed. He fixed his tattered jacket. "A bard's duty never ends", he said. He grabbed his lute and climbed upon the stage once more. "Do you want another one?", he asked to which the crow responded a strong "yes". "I have a new one I wrote myself quite recently", he said and passed the lute's belt over his shoulder.

Sweet music filled the room once again. "He's funny", said Emma.

"Not in a good way", puffed Yves.

Leon laughed. "I like him".

Jonathan reached the refrain of his song.

His eyes darted towards the small group and he smiled.

"A love that is strong, a love that is true, battles all storms and always wins too.

Someone could love with a heart made of wool

but nothing can thrive when the heart is not full.

A frozen heart and a heart of stone

will either break or they'll change their tone"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You felt an arm wrap around you as you were surrounded once again by warmth. Chevalier, eyes still closed, buried his head in your shoulder as he held you tight in his sleep. You took his hand in yours and brushed your thumb over his knuckles. A smile crept upon your face. The past two weeks had been a dream. The war had been officially over. Gilbert was moved to a much more secure fortress in Rhodolite until the nations affected by the war he started decided what to do with him. Peace was restored between the four nations and the princes were working towards restoring the lost resources and caring for the wounded of their country. Yet each and every one of these undeniably happy facts paled in front of waking up next to the person you loved. The person for whom you had longed for for almost half a year.

You turned around and wrapped your hands around his muscular body. You buried your face into his chest, the buttons of his half-opened blouse tickling your cheeks. The smell of soap and roses conquered your senses. Chevalier caressed your head, his fingers entangling with your beautiful locks. His breathing was calm. Relaxed. He leapt between sense and dream. His golden hair was messy. his cheeks rosey from sleep. You could not help but cup one of them. All tension evaporated from him as you did.

You gazed to your left. The handle of the small dagger peaked from underneath his pillow. His sword lay a few feet away. It was curious how Gilbert had kept everyone away with fear or false promises, while Chevalier accepted their wrath and retaliated only should they act upon it. They were both hated, but one forced love and obedience while the other withdrew and accepted the feeling as a natural response to his actions.

You clenched your fists. Why? Why were they willing to go this far? All Chevalier did was look to a brighter future. He had hardened his heart, sacrificed love for years in order to make himself able to stomach the hard decisions are left to the crown. He was, in all aspects, a leader. He cared even for those who hated him as long as they did not hinder the course of his actions. It was a hard path he had chosen, but it was a path bound by duty. One which you yourself had taken, in your own way.

Chevalier placed his hand over yours as it held his cheek. You startled. You returned your gaze to his face. His eyes were still closed. He guided your hand to his lips and kissed your palm. "You're overthinking again", he murmured.

"I'm not"

He opened his frozen blue eyes. There was no ice left in them. He cupped your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yes, you are", he said, "I am in favour of thinking, but you focus on the wrong things". His eyes turned to the dagger. You followed them. He must had noticed the sorrow in your gaze cause he held you closer and placed a kiss on the crown of your hair. You sighed in his arms. Soon, he had gone back to sleep.

You tried to wiggle out of his arms. It was no use. You turned back to him. There was a slight smile on his lips, one you had learned to notice after spending so much time with him.

"I have work to do you know", you said.

"Ten more minutes", his arms were unwilling to let go of you.

"Chevalier", you said but somehow your lips were unable to say no. You relaxed. "Alright", you sighed.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

When Emma, Yves and Licht went outside to have their morning tea someone was already sitting in their regular settee. The princess of Istidor was dressed in a beautiful light blue off-shoulder gown with a book splayed open on her thighs and a cup of sweet tea on her lips. She greeted them with a lovely smile as they came close.

"Your Highness!", Emma cheered, "It's lovely to see you again!"

"It always is", said Yves and placed one of his signature cakes in the middle of the table. Licht sliced it and offered the first piece to her. She politely nodded and pointed towards the space in front of her. "Thank you", she said as Licht left the plate in front of her.

"So how come you're out here?", Licht asked.

"I'm-"

"There you are!", a man's voice called from behind.

The princes were startled by the sudden arrival. Licht's hand fell on his sword, ready to draw. As they turned to face their visitor however their eyes frowned in a completely different way, shifting from distrust to confusion in a matter of seconds. Jonathan was walking towards the settee, a joyous smile on his face. The former dishevelled appearance of his clothes was no more, for they were replaced by a long aubergine coat with golden embroidery on the collar. A long sword peaked from underneath, and so did a buttoned-down vest and a gold pocket watch. He passed his hand over his short brown curls.

"Long time no see", he said. He turned his gaze to Emma and the princes. "We meet again", he told them, "It seems my life is destined to be filled with beauty".

Both Emma and Yves turned red for entirely different reasons. An out of breath Sariel arrived shortly.

"Your Highness, please", he called, "Your presence here was not officialized, the guards were not informed"

"That's alright", Jonathan smiled at him, "I know how to get around unnoticed"

"Clearly", y/n said over her cup.

"I'm sorry", said Yves, "Do you know this man?"

"Your Highness", said Sariel, "Allow me". He pointed his hand towards Jonathan. "This is his Highness Prince Jonathan of Istidor", he said, "Duke of Premin and third in line to the throne"

"But that would mean he's-"

"My idiot brother", y/n smiled as she returned her cup to its saucer. She laid her elbow on the back of her seat as she crossed her legs. "What are you doing here?"

Jonathan laughed as he pulled back his long coat to sit on the nearest chair. "I'm here to see my big sister!", he said.

"Come on, spit it out", y/n's tone was scolding, yet her smile was still there.

"Fine...I need some help", Jonathan sighed, "I think I got myself into something that is more than I can handle.

Y/n let out a deep breath. "Is this about your pest problem in Premin?", she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"I'm afraid so", he said, "I have a plan to be rid of them once and for all but I'm afraid a specific individual might interfere"

Another deep exhale. "Is this about Alex again?", said y/n.

"Fraid so", said Jonathan, "All I need is to keep him preoccupied really. But please don't kill him. I'm rather fond of him"

Y/n stood, hands flattening out the creases of her dress. "Fine", she spat, "But you owe me a big one this time"

"I am aware", Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck.

Y/n passed him by. She spoke to Sariel as Jonathan poured himself a cup of tea. She stopped midway to the road inside. "You're not coming?", she cried back to him.

"Oh I am!", Jonathan raised his cup, "Just thought I'd try the tea here, you know how much I love tea!"

Y/n shook her head at her brother's eccentric habits. Another figure soon joined her side; Chevalier. He smiled at her, and so did she. All four of the people who knew him were left astounded by the sight. Y/n gave him a kiss and proceeded to speak to him, her hands holding his. He listened attentively before he gave her a kiss on the cheek and one on the forehead and bid her farewell. He came to join the group on the couch as his love disappeared back inside the castle, followed by his minister. He passed by Jonathan. There was a difference in the man's smile this time. Without having the means to compare, Chevalier sat himself opposite to him and waited.

"So. You are the one they call the brutal beast", said Jonathan, "You don't seem that scary to me"

"Give it time", Chevalier blew on his own cup of tea.

"Hm", the other prince extended his threatening smile, "You're funny are you?"

Chevalier did not respond. The other prince frowned for the first time since he had stepped in Rhodolite. He let his cup down and leaned towards Chevalier.

"I've heard the rumours about you", he said, "And I don't like them"

Chevalier remained silent. Jonathan scoffed.

"Let me make one thing clear: My sister has been through hell. She has taken care of me and my brother her whole life and has only ever been rewarded with war and mistreatment. I'm impressed and thankful that you managed to effectively diminish the obsidianite threat. But my sister is free now. She can be happy. So don't you dare hurt her. Or I will kill you myself. I am against violence, but this I will do. I don't care who you are. Even if you're the king here, Istidor is an empire almost as powerful as Obsidian itself, but with much greater connections. If you hurt her, I will kill you, and it won't matter whether I do it in secret or not"

"Perhaps you can", said Chevalier, "If I do ever hurt her perhaps I'll let you". Chevalier's eyes fixed on the other prince's, his brilliant blue meeting the emerald green. "But I'd say it's quite hypocritical when the one she's suffered the most from was the man you had let her get engaged to"

Jonathan caught his breath. "I never liked Gilbert", he stood, "But if I knew one thing about him was that he loved her. I knew that when it came to a choice between her and his kingdom he would choose her every time. But you? You would never make such a choice."

"Even if I did", Chevalier responded calmly, "Do you really think she would let me?"

Jonathan clenched his fists for a while before letting his hands relax at his sides. He chuckled to himself. "Maybe you're right", he snuffed his smile away once more, "Maybe you do love her enough. If you prove this to me, that she is happy here with you then I will back you up to the end"

"What are you talking about?", asked Licht.

"Y/n is far from ordinary", Jonathan refused to look away from the rhodolitian king, "One could say she is another brilliant mind in this continent, one that was left unrecognised by no other reason than her gender". Jonathan turned to the group. "Why else do you think two monsters like them would fight over her?", he said, "There is a reason she was engaged to Gilbert and it's not merely what you think. They could had given me away to another kingdom and conquered Obsidian altogether. But they didn't. She is second in line. The heir. I'm just the spare". Jonathan turned back to Chevalier. "What do you think you can offer Istidor?", he told him, "A kingdom the size of our capital or a few more pennies to add to the vastness of our gold mines?". The prince moved closer to the Brutal Beast, something few people dared to do and even fewer were left alive afterwards. "You may be a cold-hearted beast but she is not. Our family is not. My father is closer to the throne than ever. Obsidian is no longer a threat. He will put family above everyone and everything else. Whether that includes you it's up to be seen".

And with that, Jonathan walked away, hands behind his back. A regal air surrounded him, one made of shadows unseen before, hidden by the brightness of his smile. But with his smile gone, another self was revealed. A calculative and calm mind, a loyal son and a a dutiful brother.

He was a shadow himself. He had called himself "the spare", but he showed no wish to become "the heir". The shadows were his element, and he reigned most brilliantly in them.

He had promised to kill Chevalier. And there was no doubt in anyone's mind, though many had tried before, this man could do it.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 11 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: bit short this time but trust me

Warnings: graphicness, war, wounds, death etc

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily.

"Status report, Sirs!", the knight stood at attention in the Main tent.

"Speak", said Chevalier, his gaze focused on the map in front of him.

"Black Banners were spotted in the north forests. Jadeian troops are said to be among them"

"How many did you count?", said Licht.

"'tis a small group, sir, not over a thousand, we could easily crash them"

"My, that would be a very bad decision indeed", Clavis smiled from the chair he had sank in, "We'd be up for a lovely surprise if we followed them".

"Still, we cannot leave the northern towns to their mercy", Licht was already grabbing his sword, "I'll go"

"No you won't", said Chevalier. He traced the river that run on the map with his index finger. Clavis was correct. No matter how much of a fool he could be, he was always quite perceptive. This was a diversion, meant to draw them away or at least split their army in two. They were lucky Benitoite had remained neutral in the war, but Jade was still a tough foe to handle on top of Obsidian. One could say they did not stand a chance, but it would not be Chevalier, nor any of his brothers.

The northern forests were not so dense near Obsidian and Rhodolite as they were in Jade. The few Jadeian soldiers inside the Obsidianite army could not make up for Jade's true strength. Unless a part of their army was somewhere else, either meant to surround them once they got to the spot or taking its time crossing a more treacherous and hard-to-anticipate path to the kingdom. If Jade hid its soldiers near its border then such an attack would be possible, and they would be caught between the army and the river.

"Destroy the bridge and light the forest on fire", he said.

It was so close to the border that most of the trees were near death anyway, sharing in Obsidian's misfortunes and draught. They should be as flammable as they could ever be.

"But what about-"

There was one village within the forest, as Clavis was probably about to say. "If the enemy is there they either already fled or died", Chevalier responded. His brothers seemed reluctant, but his knight obeyed instantly.

Gilbert's ultimate goal was not simply conquering Rhodolite but Benitoite as well. Chevalier focused his gaze on the borderline between the Kingdom of Roses and the Empire of Death. Gilbert had to find a way to draw Benitoite in a way that he would be justified to destroy them. He could not use the same trick twice so whatever he did it would have to happen during this war.

"I'll be leaving", Clavis pushed back on the wooden pole he leaned on.

"Where are you going?", asked Licht.

Chevalier rolled his eyes. It was obvious like the sun in the morning sky that Clavis was once again being a humanitarian fool.

"To do something stupid, by his account", Clavis smiled at Licht as he pointed at their older brother with his eyes.

Chevalier let out a heavy breath. So utterly predictable.

"The ridge", the white tiger murmured to himself. His finger landed on a passage, lined by high gray cliffs, next to the forests where the enemy hid. Should a fire break out, the opposing army would most likely scatter backward. The forest was framed by tall mountains on Jade's side, full of the vibrant vegetation that characterized the country. Meaning the only escape amid such panic would be through that small passage, towards the banner obsidian.

"Come", Chevalier told Licht, who only responded with a look of confusion.

The brutal beast gathered his knights for what was going to be a slaughter. His steps marched strong; he was used to the weights he himself tied around his legs with his decisions. His duty was to Rhodolite; he could not spare his mercy to those who threatened it.

They had reached the border by daybreak. Chevalier smiled to himself as his men followed him inside a secret maze of underground passages. His idiot brother used these a lot in his spare time. It did not take long until the were standing at the hilltop where the caves led. A great cloud of dark smoke loomed over the horizon. It had already begun.

They descended the hill until they stood at the foot of the small canyon. The archer had taken a different path, led by Licht, and managed to hide among the rocks of the cliffside, aiming the weapons at the passage. Then, they waited.

Waited for the wolves to run right into the hands of the sheep. They waited for their blades to paint the canyon red with the blood of those they thought as beasts.

The battle did not last long. With the fire on their tail, the enemy soldiers decided to take on the foe ahead since, unlike the blazing flames, men could be bled dry. It was a calculated slaughter, and it was over before it had begun. Chevalier was cutting down the last of the soldiers that still raised their blades against them, when Clavis appeared on his grey horse. He marched among the dead, maneuvering his way around the corpses. His steps were quick, his eyes clouded. He made his way to Chevalier. One did not have to be a genius to know he bore bad tidings.

"What", said Chevalier, his expression neutral as ever. He took a look at Clavis' face; it was whiter than a sheet.

"I....ah....", Clavis took one look of Chevalier's face. His brother's hair was dripping with the blood of those he had slain, his hands still wrapped around his dirtied blade. The beast's nature was out in plain sight, yet the man within, resting behind the tiger's tired eyes, counted the empty crimson days of war that had pushed him to the dark depths of a place he could perhaps never return; A place where the numb feeling in his body was all that held the foundations of his reason from collapsing under the pressure of his long-forgotten humanity. Everyone who looked at Chevalier would recognise that numbness, characteristic of his usual appearance. Yet one would wonder how deep into blood the prince could soak in, before even that serious demeanour crumbled. "Nothing", said Clavis, his expression lacking a smile for the first time in a long while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm leaving", Gilbert said as he wore his black gloves. His voice was hesitant, his gaze unsure as he looked at your form. You gazed upon his reflection in your vanity's mirror and continued brushing your hair. He approached. "You've barely said a word since you came back", he let his hand rest on your shoulder. His fingers played with the strands of your hair.

"There is nothing to say", you responded. "You have your war. You got what you wanted"

You averted your eyes. You could not stand the frostiness of his gaze even in a reflection. You felt his breath on your neck as he bowed his head. His black hair tickled your skin as he placed a small kiss on your shoulder. "Y/n-", he began but a cough stopped him. He covered his mouth with a white handkerchief. You turned and reached for him but he backed away. Soon, he was done, and he hid the small piece of fabric back into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry", he smiled, "Something got caught in my throat". He took a deep breath. He stayed silent for a minute before turning away. "Get dressed", he said, "You should come". And with that, he walked out the door.

Looking back you still do not know why you agreed. It was so easy to follow him because you had simply lost any interest in his schemes anymore. There was no point in trying to prevent a war that was already raging in full strength.

He gave you a simple black cape as you both climbed into an inconspicuous carriage. After a few hours, you finally arrived at your destination. Gilbert gave you his hand as you emerged back into the world, but the world was too gruesome for you to even notice it.

You climbed down into a makeshift camp, where the dead outnumbered the living by a mile, and no soldier was left unscathed. Gilbert dragged his came through the blood and puss-infested mud. A few drops of rain came from the sky to bathe the uncleanable. Gilbert took your hand by himself so you would remember to follow him through the regiment of corpses. You walked and walked until you reached the edge of a cliff. You immediately noticed the forest turned charcoal, the rain putting out the last of the fires that blazed for the previous day.

"What is this?", you asked, already knowing the answer. It was the end of a battle, the remnants of Obsidian's defeat.

"This is what happens to what Chevalier touches", said Gilbert.

You scoffed. He had some nerve when he was the one who started the war, he was the one who dragged Jade into it with his lies, he was the one who...

"Are you insinuating something?", you asked coldly. Your voice came out threatening even if your eyes were drawn away, to the burnt trees stretching until the horizon.

Gilbert came closer until he was standing beside you. "He does not care about people's lives, much less this empire's....or yours". He tried to touch you but you shook him away. "I'll win this war", Gilbert said, "And I'll do so by ending him".

"Ha....", you smiled bitterly, "it was not your lips one would expect this to come out of".

"He's the real threat", Gilbert continued, "He's no better than my father"

"Forgive me for being biased, but he was not the one who poisoned me was he?", you shot a gaze at him. His expression was still as cold as the ice in a glacier. In this regard, he was like Chevalier. In that and nothing else, other than perhaps the same cruel lens they viewed the world from. Their souls were a tempest, more than the river that flew below you.

"That was not me", he said

"Do you really expect me to believe that?", you replied, "Tell me that you didn't get tired of waiting and decided to do it yourself. Why else would you arrive so conveniently after I passed out?"

"Is that the only reason you can think of?", he spat.

The rain was falling heavy from the heavens. By the time you turned to look at him you could barely see the vindictive glint in his eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on", he said, "Would you really blame me if I wanted to kill Chevalier? Would you really hate me so much for taking my vengence after he took everything I ever desired?"

"You're crazy"

"Am I?", he laughed. He covered his eyepatch with his hand and pulled it off of his head. He exposed his bright blue eye, shining under the gloomy sky, the tears falling from it mixing with the rain. It was only then you realized that his heart was too broken to hate. And it was too broken to love. All that was left in him was emptiness, and an unanswerable "why".

"I just showed you who he truly is and you still take his side", his smile was one of despair. His brows furrowed and he cried, "Why would I not want him to DIE?"

He stepped towards you, his cane next to his foot. The muddy cliff gave out. You had just enough time to see the shock in his eyes, an emotion you had never seen nor thought you'd ever see painted in their shine. The world was moving slowly. You reached out to him. His body was already falling downwards. Your fingers curled around the trim of his ebony jacket, but your feet could no longer support both your weights. Your eyes shot wide open as you realized what you had done. The two of you hurled downwards. Time regained its speed, the the cold water pierced your skin like needles.

The current pulled you from every direction, throwing the pair of you from one side of the river to another. Your hand was desperately grasping at Gilbert's jacket. You did not have the strength to do anything else. Suddenly his hand pulled you closer until he wrapped his arms around you. He kept your head above water, even at the cost of his own breath. That was until a wave blasted you onto a rock. He hit the hard surface with his back. His head bled as he weighed on you and you realised he had lost consciousness. You dove under the water and pulled him over your shoulders. He was heavy, but the water was just starting to calm down. You dove in and out of the water as you swam to shore, pushing him up to keep his head above the surface. You changed into pulling him once your feet hit the pebbled bottom of the river. You heaved but you managed to drag the both of you into safety.

Or so you thought.

Your clouded eyes registered the light of lanterns before you surrendered to the hands of your exhaustion.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 18 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 3217

Warnings: language, violence, death, blood

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

Chevalier stood alone outside the closed heavy door of the cathedral. He stared at its wood and iron frame, carved with depictions of mythology and built with the finest materials, befitting of the crown jewel of the Istidorian Church. His long white cape and usual robes were replaced by a black suit, roses elegantly embroidered on the chest with gold thread; he had not worn that thing in years. He took a deep breath. He had not known hesitation in his life, yet this feeling could be nothing but. He clenched the letter in his one hand, the white roses in the other. Everything would change once he crossed that doorstep. Everything would be real.

She would really be gone.

He pushed the door open. At the end of rows of cushioned benches laid the open coffin, filled with white flowers as if brought out from a fairytale. Yet this reality was the furthest thing from it, since the woman that rested inside was the light of his life, snuffed away too soon.

He manoeuvred his way among the crying people, held by guards in a row to bid their final farewell. James had placed Melville among them in order to let Chevalier approach from the family's seats. He thanked him with a nod, the guard returning a sorrowful look. It was strange how that single look of pity comforted him in his deep despair; perhaps it was another thing he had lacked when he had first needed it.

It had been a year since he had last seen her, so full of life and hope. The woman in the coffin looked nothing like it. Her skin was stuck on her frail bones, her eyes tired even in eternal sleep. All the makeup of the undertakers could not hide those things from him. She wore a white dress; he never attended her wedding so he could not tell if it was just a coincidence. Her hands held a bouquet of red roses. Chevalier reached for the petals. His breath caught. He would recognise that texture anywhere; they had been brought in from Rhodolite.

"How did she die?", he almost did not ask.

"Scarlet fever your Majesty", said Melville.

"That's a lie. There are no signs of that"

Melville lowered his head. "Broken heart", he finally confirmed Chevalier's fear.

It was the same. The same thing all over again. Had he truly become his father? Leading a good woman to die of this affliction? Yet the King had never loved his mother. He had loved y/n with all his heart's might.

He felt a tear slide down his cheek. Did he imagine it? People were staring. Irrelevant, they did not matter. But had he truly lost his composure? He tried to shake the tears away but only called forth more. His body was not responding. It was not that of a beast anymore, but that of a human. A human in pain. A human in loss. A human like her, like everyone else.

He leaned forward to place a kiss on her frozen forehead. He touched his own oh the same spot, his warmth never transferring as he had hoped.

"Come back", he whispered, "Come back"

He repeated those words again and again even as his eyes fluttered awake, the tears he had shed in his sleep watering his pillow. He brushed his fingers underneath his eyelid, gathering those peculiarities people called tears. He sat up on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He could not allow that dream to come true. He would not.

He walked to the main deck, where James chatted with Silvio, who manned the wheel.

"Wakey wakey sleeping beauty", James grinned, "I was just about to have Silvio here give you true love's kiss"

"Don't pull me into your weird fantasies, shithead", Silvio barked, "It's enough that I have to sail you all the way to bloody Istidor"

"If you did not want to owe me a favour you should had been better at playing cards", James smirked at him.

"We both know you cheated you bloody cod"

Chevalier let out a long sigh. It was a ridiculous idea to involve the Jangling fool to begin with. "How far are we from port?", he interrupted their continuing banter.

"Port?", James' face contorted in confusion, "We're not going to a port"

"Then well shall we-"

"Their castle has a beach enclosed between the walls", Silvio said, "And all this trouble because this crook is a criminal on multiple levels"

"Hey", James crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I'm starting to regret helping you set up the trade route"

"You didn't help jack squat!", Silvio fumed again.

Chevalier did not dally longer to listen to the rest of that pointless conversation. He climbed down and walked to the stern. In isolation he sat, his hands on the rail as he gazed at the trail of sea foam the ship left behind. Benitoite was long gone in the horizon on his right. They had sailed to the open sea instead of following the coast to avoid detection. It was crazy to think, but Chevalier had never been this far from Rhodolite before. It was like an invisible hand constantly quenched his heart as he was to far away to learn, let alone react, if disaster befell his people.

Did you ever feel that way? You must have. You have been the official heir to the throne from the moment you were born. Yet you travelled away from your homeland, to reside in what was basically the wolf's den.

Chevalier buried his face in his hands. Who was he to think he had any say in your actions? Who was he to claim he should be your saviour? Yet again, how could he stand on the sidelines? The thought of going against your choices made him more nauseous than the relentless sea. The thought of him even remotely resembling what disgusted him about your relationship with Gilbert...

Soon the ship turned and the horizon beyond which the land resided disappeared behind Chevalier. They must had reached their drop-off point. By nightfall, they were bidding Silvio goodbye as he and James boarded a boat to cross the small stretch of water to the shore below the Royal palace.

"Don't put your trust in him", Silvio grabbed Chevalier's arm before he boarded the rowboat, "He's not worthy of it. He always has another goal"

Chevalier did nothing but nod to Silvio's warning. The prince of Benitoite had not provided him with any new insight. He was well aware that both he and James were using each other; there was nothing else they could do when they had only met a few days ago. He trusted that he could help, but he never took as guaranteed that he would.

James rowed the boat inside a cave, hidden by unforgiving rocks underneath the cliff where the castle stood. They passed under a drawn iron gate, its spikes hanging menacingly above their heads. They docked in front of a small wooden door which James opened with a black iron key he wore around his neck. As he pulled it out, a small religious pendant was pulled with it; James was quick to tuck it back inside his black silk blouse. They climbed over a thousand steps to reach a network of tile-paved corridors. James lit a lantern on one of the walls and carried it along the way until they happened upon a glass wall, a large ballroom residing on the other side. James hung the lantern and pulled a small lever on the side, letting the glass door relax enough to push it open. They slipped on the other side and the young prince pushed closed the glass door, the ballroom's reflection concealing the path from which they came.

Chevalier's hand fell on the hilt of his sword. "Why did we come out here?", he asked.

"'Tis the only way out of that maze"

"I sincerely doubt that",

James let out a sigh. The low whistle of armour became louder and louder as the seconds passed. "Don't fight", James said simply before throwing his sword away and putting his hands behind his head. Soon after, a group of soldiers from the King's guard surrounded them. The eyepatched prince stood in shock on the steps behind them. "I caught an intruder", James said theatrically, "An enemy to the crown. Now isn't that worth reinstating me?". Gilbert smiled in satisfaction as the soldiers took Chevalier to the dungeons and James to the King's office.

Chevalier's blood was boiling as he restrained himself from annihilating his captors. He had not even let Clavis do something like that in his presence. He took a deep breath as the soldiers tossed him unceremoniously into one of the cells. After a while, Gilbert passed by to mock him. Chevalier looked at him with his icy blue eyes, never uttering a word to him. He looked around; perhaps he could escape. Maybe he could pick the lock like his idiot brother would and steal a sword from one of the guards. If he had a sword and he had his wits he would be as good as free. But such a thing would defeat the purpose of him coming all the way there.

"Pssst", a whisper was heard from behind him. Chevalier turned to see Melville's freckled face peak from the shadows that sheltered a hidden door on the back wall. Was this part of James' play?

He followed Melville inside another maze of corridors until they reached a wooden door. Melville pushed it open and they entered the King's study through a library. The guard gave a slight bow to the man sitting on a large armchair behind the book-ridden desk and returned to the hidden corridor.

"Take a sit", the man pointed at the chairs on the other side of the desk before returning to his paperwork.

So this was King Edward. He sat proudly, his back straightened, as he examined the papers in front of him with grace. His face was scared on the left. His great longsword was left on his side, always kept at arm's length. Chevalier looked around; all doors to the room were closed. He saw the chairs the King had offered him. They had no arms to them, as a King's chair should. This was a test like all the rest of his family liked to pull.

"I did not come here as a conversant of your Majesty", Chevalier dragged one of the chairs to sit next to the King, "I came here as Chevalier"

The King let out a light chuckle. "As Chevalier, huh?", he repeated, "And what could just-Chevalier dare request a King?"

"Your daughter's hand", he said.

"In case you didn't realise, the princess is already engaged", Edward dipped his feather quill in the ink and continued writing.

"I asked for your daughter", Chevalier said again.

"You did not ask for something different than what I said", the King lectured, "From what I've heard you're known to respect such things as duty and titles. My daughter is the crown princess. She will wed someone of her stature"

"From what I have heard, you, unlike me, do not hold titles and duty in the same importance when family is concerned"

King Edward let down his pen. He turned his serious gaze at Chevalier, the unwavering might of experience meeting the coldness of pride. "And what do you know about family?", he spat. He stood and walked closer to Chevalier. "Your father was a lecherous fool who prayed on women in response to his own hollow heart", he told him, "Your own mother resented you. You don't see the type to care about family"

"I care about your daughter"

"That is not enough"

The King took a step back, letting out a heavy sigh. He walked to the fireplace on the other side of the room. A portrait of a woman hung above it, recently brought to the room. She greatly resembled y/n but her hair was a different colour.

"Why did you call me up here then?", Chevalier asked, "You did not throw this charade in front of Gilbert's face to tell me to go back to where I came from"

King Edward placed his hand on the mantle. "You're here to be given a choice", he said, "If you want my daughter there are two ways to get to her. Either let Rhodolite become part of our Kingdom and marry her as the Earl of a prefecture or she forfeits her claim to the title and you marry her as a nobody"

"Neither is possible", Chevalier said, "But if you wish then I'll step down as King and travel here as my former self"

"I will not accept such a condition", said the King, "I gave you your options. Either choose or leave"

"Rhodolite is a nation that has been fighting against invaders for decades. I can't let it become a slave in the span of one night. I shall not."

"So you have chosen for y/n to come with you then"

"Let me be clear, I will NEVER ask that of her", Chevalier said determinedly, "Even if she agreed in the spur of a moment out of love for me she would ultimately regret it. I could never replace any of the things she's known her whole life. Not her home, not her family, not her birthright, not..."

"I know who you are Chevalier", the Istidorian King said, "I know you plan to go to war with the continent and unite the kingdoms in the name of peace". He turned to meet Chevalier's gaze. "I will not, do you hear me, I will NOT have you use Istidor in order to spread your tyrannical reign to the rest of the world"

Chevalier was regretting the place and time he had first uttered that plan. That damn plan. To his bleeding heart it appeared as a mere triviality. "Fuck that", he uttered for the first time in his life.

"Excuse me?"

Chevalier's brows furrowed as his eyes drilled into Edward's. "All I want is for me and y/n to be together", he clenched his fists, "I would not even care about proposing marriage or anything else if it weren't for our positions. I'd wait for her to feel free to move on. I would settle as her unnamed lover for a lifetime if it meant we would be an 'us'. But I understand who our ranks made us to be. I am aware of the barriers and the rules that have been placed to keep us in line with a standard. That is the only reason I'm here instead of her room asking her to stay with me"

King Edward's chuckle put a stopper on Chevalier's argument. "You really are a piece of work", he covered his face with his hand. He pulled up his chair and sat next to Chevalier once more. "I don't want y/n to marry Gilbert either"

Chevalier frowned. "What?"

"I know what Gilbert wants and that is to abolish the aristocracy and nobility from the world. Though a beautiful dream, I did not spend half of my life trying to convince the idiots in this country to let my daughter be the sovereign for Gilbert to come and dismantle her power"

Edward opened the drawer to his right. He searched between the papers and stamps and other trinkets he had shoved inside the small compartment instead of organising them until he found a small golden ring. "This is my House's seal", he handed the ring to Chevalier, "Not the King's, but my Family's". He stood and opened a cabinet between the library shelves. Unlike the rest of the room, the objects inside the cabinet were neatly organised and stored in small boxes. Edward took a blue velvet one in his hands and sat back down. Inside laid a gold medal on a blue ribbon. "This was my mother's", Edward said, "it is worn by the King's Consort or, in y/n's case, the Queen's consort. The ring I can give you with my blessing. But this, you have to earn in the eyes of the people's council"

"I'm assuming you have a plan for that", Chevalier's eyes narrowed,"Otherwise you wouldn't have brought me to see you"

Edward lifted the medal to eye level. He twirled it in his hand, his eyes glued to its shiny material. "I was not lying when I said that marrying you would cause problems.", he explained, "But in truth is the only solution I would accept is your abdication from the Rhodolitian throne and reinstatement as King Consort here"

Chevalier nodded his head. He was prepared to do this. A title, in the end, meant nothing in his eyes. "I simply request some time for a Belle to choose a new King before I leave", he said in earnestness.

The King of Istidor seemed enthralled by that answer. "You are a talented man", the King smiled, "It'd be a shame to clip your wings so soon". Chevalier responded with a frown to which Edward said "I'm not dead yet. You don't have to abdicate right now. Just in the future. Y/N would have to travel back quite frequently of course but other than that you are free to start your life together in peace"

"Would a mere promise like that be enough to convince them?"

"Which is why you need some back-up", Edward took a map from a small bin he kept next to his desk and spread it over the table. "Do you see that?", he pointed his finger at a mountainous region up north, "That is where my daughter is right now. A count that has a great dislike of me has organized a revolution. I want you to go there and help snuff it out, not by being a strategist but by being a leader."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you inspire the people then the people will follow you", the King said, "We keep pretend the nobles have all the power but in truth, especially in a Kingdom as large as this, they are merely ants compared to the number of lesser wealthy people. They are the true power in this country. If they want you here, the council will have to obey or be faced with widespread criticism and even violence"

Chevalier lifted his eyes from the map. "That is how you ensured y/n would be Queen isn't it?", he said, "You turned her into their hero"

"Now you're getting it", Edward gathered the map back into a neat roll before handing it over to Chevalier, "It's on you now, son"

Chevalier reached for the map. The moment he touched it he was pulled closer, close enough for the King to rest a fatherly hand on his shoulder.

"Do you know why I exiled my son?", asked the King. Chevalier shook his shoulders. "Because it makes men like Gilbert trust him", Edward said, "I don't worry about him betraying me. That is the kind of trust I expect from my family, and why I can never call Gilbert that. Question is...can I call you? I'd like to. My daughter loves you. You certainly don't lack in intelligence and capability. But I will not put you over her safety or her inheritance. So be careful not to stir up the wrong kind of trouble"

Chevalier nodded. He could do nothing else. And with that, the King led him to another path and gave him the directions to find his way out.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

Announcement

Hello everyone I'm finishing up with my finals in a few days and I have decided to finally freaking finish some of the shit I've been writing.

I will first FINALLY give you the last two chapters of The Obsidianite jewel so if you want to reread it now's the time ;)

Then I will focus on finishing Mortal, the Suguru x reader fic.

After that, I'll start writing more independent short fics while also continuing The Dark Prince's Love.

Sorry I'm so slow :(

Best,

Me

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 15 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 4626 (wow)

Warnings: blood, violence, dead animals, angst, death

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

You smiled in your sleep as Chevalier ran his hand over your hair.

It was already quite late at night, but he had only gotten back from work around half an hour before. You had already fallen asleep when he got back, your arms making a makeshift pillow as you slumbered over your paperwork. He woke you with a loving kiss just enough to help you and himself ready for bed. He smiled as you quickly fell back asleep in his arms. A book in one hand, and you in the other; He held you closely, fearful of the fragility of this peace the two of you had found.

And the knock that sounded on his door that night came to confirm his worst fears.

Chevalier kissed your forehead. He slowly wiggled his way out of bed, careful not to wake you up, and made his way towards the door. He opened it slightly and closed it behind him; he was not going to let another man see this side of you he treasured.

The strange visitor was a man in his thirties. His clothes were clearly foreign; he wore riding gloves and a hood, and had the crest of the royal family of Istidor embroidered on his waistcoat. He had yet to catch his breath as he greeted the King with a deep bow. All of this told Chevalier that the man was a messenger. He then noticed the black armband the man wore; the message was clear.

"Pardon me your Majesty", the man said, "I was informed to seek you. I need to speak with her Royal Highness the princess of Istidor."

"Whoever told you that is clearly out of their minds", Chevalier responded, "The princess has her own suite. You are lucky you did not disturb my sleep".

"I beg your pardon, sir", the messenger bowed again, "I have strict orders from his Highness Prince Jonathan to confer this message to her Royal Highness the Princess. My instructions are clear. I cannot depart without fulfilling my mission."

Chevalier sighed in annoyance. "Go wait in the library", he said coldly and disappeared back into his room.

He lay his back flat on the door as he stared at the bed. The love of his life was still sleeping soundly. He was tasked with ruining whatever dreams she was having. He was asked to put an end to their days of peace. Four words would be enough. You would have to go back to Istidor and your lives would be changed forever. But one thing was clear; he would rather do it himself than let anyone else break your heart in this way.

Chevalier had never felt loss; not when his mother died, nor when the King did. But you were different. He knew how much you cared about your family, and he understood even though logic dictated that the expectation of death accompanies old age, the loss would not feel less painful.

He sat on the bed next to your form. He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over the knuckles. "Y/n", he called a few times before your eyes slowly opened and focused on him. Your smile, instead of bringing him joy, this time put a knife through his heart. What a strange feeling...

"What's wrong?", you frowned and sat up, letting your hand his cheek.

Chevalier took a deep breath. He placed his hand over yours on his cheek. "The King is dead", he said plainly, looking deep into your eyes. He watched them droop as a few tears fell from their ends.

"Oh", you tried to wipe them away, "I see".

Chevalier's face remained expressionless, even as he pulled you into his arms and held you into a tight embrace as you buried your face in his chest before the cataract of tears could be viewed by the room around you. He had one hand behind your head, the other on your back, rubbing it up and down.

"I shouldn't be crying", you sniffed.

"I've come to understand it's not a matter of should", he rested his chin on the crown of your hair.

You pulled him closer as you calmed your breath. His hand brushed down your hair, his cheek warm against your head. Neither of you were willing to let go. Neither of you wanted to utter a word that would break this last resemblance of peace you had found in each other's arms. You clung to him as you forced your tears to stop, but even then he could not let you go. The death of a king marked the beginning of a period of instability; you could not be absent from your country, not when you were now the heir to the throne.

The heir. Jonathan's words came back to him. People would turn the love between you into a mockery. They would claim that he took advantage of your love to seize the vast resources of Istidor. He was cold enough for it to be believable, and they would grasp any chance to undermine a woman's claim to the throne. Morons. Even Chevalier would not be able to trick someone like you; Gilbert surely never succeeded.

"Did he leave?", you sniffed as you escaped his embrace, "The messenger"

"He's downstairs in the library. He's waiting to see you."

You frowned. "Why?"

"Your brother probably put him up to it"

He helped you get dressed. He planted a kiss on your forehead before he walked with you to the library. He stood behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders as you lingered before the closed door. You took in one breath after the other, forcing your expression into a neutral one; a regal one. You already looked like a Queen.

You took a step forward but he held you back. You turned your curious eyes towards him and only then did he realize what he had done. He let go of you. This was something you had to do alone. He wanted you all to himself, but he had no right to keep you from what you were owed. So he let you go, even if it ran a knife through his heart to do so.

The door closed behind you, locking him out of your life once again. Only this time, he had gotten a taste of what happiness looked like. He had pictured what life with you could be like because for a few weeks, he had lived it. He stood there alone, unwilling to live and unable to do anything more. In the end, he put one leg in front of the other until he reached his office and buried himself in his work. He could not stand seeing your face again; it would only make parting with you harder.

He buried his head in his hands. For the first time in his life his thoughts ran amock. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with discontent. The depths of this new emotion he was harboring that was called "love" continued to surprise him. He had spent his entire life without you; But even though you were absent from his past, it suddenly seemed as if he would die if you were absent from his future as well.

He leaned back on his chair. The night was still young but he sat alone in the dimly lit office of his faction. The moonlight glistened on his golden hair as he covered his mouth with his hand.

"Don't leave", he muffled his wish. He, who had spent his entire life putting duty above all else, dared ask for the one person he respected most to go against it. It was such a selfish thing to say, and he hated himself for it. But no matter how much he shoved the wish away, it remained true.

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The messenger knight fell to one knee as soon as he set his eyes upon you. He took out his dagger and pointed it towards his heart, taking a vow of loyalty as any knight would before a new leader.

"May I assume, your Royal Highness has already heard of the King's passing?", he was already addressing yoh with you new title.

"Yes, I was informed", you responded, "But I am given to understand you have another message for me?"

"Indeed, you Royal Highness", he lifted his head, "Your presence is requested at the capital"

"I already knew that", your voice was calm and collected, impactful and suitable to your title, "It is only natural I pay my respects to my grandfather and stand by my father as he ascends the throne"

"Your presence is requested, sooner rather than later...", the messenger continued, "to take your oath as the crown princess and heir to the throne, before Lord Baldor's function can object"

Your eyes shot wide. Never in your life would you have expected these news. You had certainly hoped, but had accepted your place in the royal family and its inability to change due to the unfairness of high society.

"My brother..."

"Bith prince Jonathan and prince James are in support of his Majesty's decision", said the knight, "It is merely what's rightfully yours, your Royal Highness"

All those bastards who viewed you as a mere bargaining chip would have to listen to you now. Your father was making them do so. You would finally be the architect of your own decisions, not having to cleverly sneak your way to get what was best for you or your kingdom. You would not have to lie about whom you supported...

...or who you loved.

You thanked the knight and sent him away. You would soon have to return home, but you could not leave without sharing your new bright joy with the light that burnt in your life even when it was nothing but complete darkness.

He was not outside the library anymore. Strange. He must had gone back to bed, you smiled to yourself. You opened the door to his bedroom but you did not find him buried underneath the countless cozy blankets he kept on his bed. You frowned. Where could he have gone?

"Well", the voice of a man had you turn around in a fraction of a second, "You're not Chevalier"

Your hand reached for the sword on a belt you did not wear. The man's face was masked by the shadows of the night. He was spread on one of Chevalier's favorite chairs to read, his black muddied boots dirtying the white and gold carpet. You looked to the bed. Chevalier kept a sword next to his pillow. You ran towards it the moment the man stood. Something pierced your neck as you grabbed the golden hilt. Your legs gave out again as you tried to stand. You could not keep the sword raised any more than you could keep your eyes open.

The man's fingers wrapped around your chin; you frowned in disgust. "So this is the beast's precious flower", he sneered, "This might turn out to be better than killing him"

Your heart skipped a beat. You did not care what they thought they could do to you. You were who you were, you had your own skills, your own supporters, your own importance. But these men were after Chevalier. You had to stop them no matter what. Yet your body was already slipping away from your control as you drifted into a deep sleep.

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Chevalier raised his head from his paper-covered desk only when the first rays of sunlight peaked from the frost-covered window. She is definitely gone by now, he thought. But instead of bringing him joy that she was following her destiny, this simple fact pulled his heart down to the depths of the earth. He rubbed his eyes. He needed sleep but he could not bring himself to return to his room, knowing she would not be by his side on the bed. A migraine began to build as his head ran on fumes.

The door slammed open; the noise did not help Chevalier's headache. Clavis cheerfully entered the room, the sight of his brother inside bringing an unstoppable laughter to his lips. Really, was it that funny to him?

"Goodness me!", he finally caught his breath, "Whatever could have moved you to wake up this early? Did y/n wave a tray full of books over your head?"

Chevalier looked away. Clavis would have no idea what had happened the night before but the pain he inflicted was still the same.

"Did something happen?", Clavis finally calmed down. His bright smile faded away to give its place to a concerned frown.

Chevalier turned his head further away. "Y/n", he said, "she's..."

"Someone left this at the gate!", Nokto cried as he stumbled into the room. He heaved as he handed the small red note to Chevalier. One touch was enough for him to realize that it owed its red color not to the dye of red roses and plums but to the spilling of blood.

"There's something else", Nokto kept Chevalier from reading the small calligraphic letters. The two of them swiftly followed their brother to the King's apartments, where Chevalier had taken residence. The bedroom was filled with a foul smell, the bedsheets drenched in the blood of a gutted tiger, splayed carefully with its head resting on the pillow. Something was off with the threat.

"I came here first, which is where I found this", Nokto explained.

Chevalier sword was dug inside the tiger's body, standing proud over its kill. The young King opened the note. He could have sworn his heart stopped. He knew what was wrong with the display in front of him. The tiger did not lay on the side where he slept and kept his sword; it rested on y/n's side, with his sword piercing through its heart. It was not a threat on his life but on hers. Or rather, a warning. The letter made no demands. It was a mere declaration of the danger the love of his life was in. Chevalier clutched the pillar that held the roof of the bed in place. He had to, or he'd fall.

"What's wrong?", Clavis urged, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

Chevalier handed the note over to him. He could not tear his eyes away from the dead animal. He kept picturing your form, bathed in blood, with a sword going through your chest; it could be any sword, but Chevalier might as well had put it there. He did not have to turn to see the surprise and fear painted in Clavis' eyes. He could not let his face nor his mind mimic him. He had to stay calm. He had to stay collected. Panic would kill her.

"We have a proble-", Leon cut his word in half as he stepped into the room. "What the hell happened here?", he cried in shock.

Clavis opened his mouth to speak, never managing to string any words together. Chevalier was clutching the wooden pillar as he took hold of his racing heart and thoughts. He had to find her. He had to. He looked back at the note. It was handwritten; big mistake.

"Flandre", Chevalier crinkled the paper into a small ball.

"What?", said Clavis.

"He was the one", Chevalier responded, leaving out the "who took her" part of the sentence.

"Do you think he's aligned with Obsidian?", Leon placed his hands on his waist.

Nokto turned to him. "He lost his whole family in the war I doubt-"

"He is", Clavis interrupted, leaving Nokto to stare at him in disbelief.

Chevalier looked at Leon with an interrogative gaze. "Why?", he asked.

Leon took a deep breath. Chevalier had a guess of what he was going to say, and soon his fear turned into reality.

"He's gone. Gilbert ", Leon said, "He escaped. Someome freed him"

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Your hands were aching from pulling on your restraints. The rope cut deep into the flesh of your wrists, but the pain was not nearly enough to stop you from trying to escape. You lifted your head; you were laying on the soft pillows of a weathered expensive couch. You shook off your drowsiness. Your eyes focused on the man sitting across the room from you. With a beautiful silver dagger, he carefully carved a children's toy out of a piece of wood.

"Who are you?", your eyes shot daggers at him.

"Well nice to see you've awoken miss", the man scraped the sawdust off the toy, "My name is Lord Flandre"

You pulled at your bound hands, but you could not sit up. You dug your heels under the rope around your ankles but it was too tight.

"I'm really sorry miss", the man continued, "I truly loathe the situation we're in but you see...if I can't kill the beast, I have to at least take away what he loves...like he did to me"

The beast? He was talking about Chevalier again! "Don't call him that", you gritted your teeth.

The man frowned. He shot up from his chair and walked closer until he could grab your chin. "Don't call him that?", he repeated, "But that's what he is. A cruel beast with no humanity in him, who caused me to lose my home, my family and everything that I loved"

He could be right. But you did not care. Your heart could not sympathize with someone who stood against its master, even if what the man said was true. The man brought the dagger to your throat.

"I am still unsure of whether I should use you as bait or kill you right now. I'm still hesitating to kill an innocent soul in the name of vengeance cause unlike him I have a human heart", a streak of blood trickled down from your throat and onto his blade, "Don't try my compassion though cause I assure you, it is very limited when it comes to that monster"

You clenched your fists to match your heart. Chevalier repeated these words about himself regularly, yet he understood the weight of the decisions he made, along with their consequences. He was a King, even before he was crowned, and that meant he had to put the good of the many first, which often meant sacrificing the few. As cruel as that truth might be, anyone with half a brain would understand that it was also singular.

Finally, you managed to lodge your fingers between the ropes around your wrists. "How dare you", you growled as you kept the man's eyes away from what you were doing behind your back. He was close. You surprised him with your untied hands and pulled his head down to hit your knee until it bruised. You quickly grabbed his dagger and cut the ropes from your ankles. Flandre was holding his head, body kneeling on the floor. You had to rush before he came back to his full senses. You looked outside the window; the ground was too far down. You searched around the room and you found Flandre's sword. Its weight seemed reasonable. It would keep you alive at least as you tried the door.

The moment you opened it you were met with a pair of familiar eyes: one red and one blue. You stepped back as Gilbert entered the room, dressed as he used to in Obsidian, black cane in hand and all.

"Well well well", he said, for once without a smile, "What do we have here? A little dove trying to escape its cage?"

Flandre picked himself up from the floor. "Be careful Your Highness", he pressed his palm to his aching forehead, "She stole my sword"

"I can see that", Gilbert's eyes looked at the marks on your wrists, "You're a naughty little thing aren't you?". You pointed your sword at him. He rolled his eyes and moved to the window. "Put that thing away, you won't make it past the front door", he said plainly before turning back to Flandre, "What is the girl doing here?"

"We couldn't find Chevalier"

"So you acted on your own again"

"She's the one everyone has been talking about", Flandre pointed at you. "That monster is unkillable", he said, "No man stands a chance in combat and even poison doesn't faze him"

"Poison?", you murmured. Your eyes shot wide. "It was you! Do you realize what you've done?"

"I failed", he said, "If I hadn't so many lives would have been spared"

"Oh you have no idea what a pain in the ass that man is", Gilbert was looking at you with the corner of his eyes, "So what's the plan?"

"Her", Flandre's voice trembled but that did not take away from its conviction, "I'm confident that that heartless man has a heart just for her. I would hate harming an innocent woman but I'm starting to doubt that's all there is to her. She's too cold. She's like him. Her death would break him. I just haven't decided on the details that would truly tear out his soul like he did for my own"

Lord Flandre did not hear Gilbert's sword as he pulled it out of his cane. He did not see the prince standing behind him before he drove the blade through the man's heart. But he surely screamed and writhed in agony before all blood and life left his body and he collapsed on the marbled floor.

"You are quite right", Gilbert wiped the blood off his blade on the dead man's coat, "she has a knacker for being important to heartless men"

Your body was trembling. Gilbert's hands fell on your shoulders, startling you out of the shivering. He pulled you into his arms, his hand petting your hair, but your eyes were glued on the dead body of the duke he had just killed.

"It's alright darling", he said, "You're safe now". He planted a kiss on your hair.

You pushed him away; he let you. "What are you doing here?", you uttered, "Was this your plan?"

"Let me see those wrists"

"Did you put him up to this?"

"Of course not", Gilbert reached for your hands. He managed to get one but you kept the other, which held the sword, away. "They were there to free me but the bastard could not wait to have a go at Chevalier"

"He tried to kill me", you said, "Twice"

"Which is why he's dead"

You winced as Gilbert tapped a handkerchief wet with vodka on your wrist. His eyes were glued on the skin he treated.

"I'm sorry", he said, "He might have not been following my orders but he was under my command". His brows furrowed. "Y/n", his voice was but a whisper, "I know you don't love me. I know you'd rather spend your days in his arms rather than mine. But the truth remains: you are engaged to me. So please, come back to me"

You shook his hand away. "I don't have to anymore"

"Where is this gonna go?", Gilbert continued calmly, "Are you going to marry him? Do you think the council will let you? It'll be a scandal, he's as good as a commoner to them"

"I'll make them", you said determined, "And if they won't listen I'll"

"What? Keep him as a lover? Do you think he'd be happy?", Gilbert began raising his voice, "Or will you give it all up? Are you going to abandon all those who care about you for one man?"

"Stop it", you murmured but you could not shield yourself from the truths he spat. Gilbert never liked lies, but the truths he chose were rarely this hurtful. He was pulling your eyes open by force when all you wanted was to return to the dream.

"I promise I will", he said, "If you truly want to be with him despite all this I promise you will never see me again. But, y/n", he took your hand once more, "Would a life with me be that horrible that you'd choose to hurt so many people to escape from it?"

You lowered your head. You could not let him see the tears that gathered on the brim of your eyes. Your efforts failed when they spilled and dripped onto the elegantly woven carpet. The commotion of a battle startled you; just beyond the door, swords were clanging together and guards screamed before the thud of their bodies hitting the floor silenced them.

"That would be my que leave", Gilbert planted a quick kiss on your cheek before making his way towards a painting at the other side of the room. He pulled at one side of the frame as if it were a door until he revealed a hidden passage behind it. "There's a carriage outside bound for Istidor", he said, "I'll wait for an hour".

And with that, he disappeared in the depths of the secret tunnel, closing the passage behind him. Moments later, the commotion stopped. The door opened wide. Chevalier stepped into the room, his body covered from top to bottom in the blood of the guards he had slain. He panted as he caught his breath. His eyes frantically searched the room until they settled on you. Then and only then they were washed with relief.

"Chevalier", you could not help but smile as you whispered his name.

He pulled you into his embrace and you felt safe once more. You wanted to return it, to wrap your arms around his body and bury your head in his firm chest. He placed a kiss on the crown of your hair. He pulled away, just enough to examine the blade you held. Shit.

"What happened here?", he asked. Not 'who was here', just 'what happened', even though he had surely noticed that there was none of Flandre's blood covering your blade.

You pulled further away. Why? Why did he have to love you? You cursed the moment you clung on his heart and brought it to the surface; now you had to break it.

"I...have to go back to Istidor", you simply said.

He frowned. "I know"

"Yes", you gave him a sad smile. Goodness, he probably already knew what you were going to say. You cleared your throat and urged the tears back. "I'm not coming back", you said.

He closed his eyes. It felt like you served him a fatal blow.

"This...", you struggled to find the words to explain the love between you without calling it such, "What we have cannot go on. I...my duty is...."

You were startled as he cupped your cheek. He stroke your warm skin with his thumb. After a moment he snapped out of whatever had come over him. He cleared his throat. "I understand", he said coldly. His face hardened; the blood dripping from his golden fringe only added to his cruel appearance. "I shall stay away then", he said as he was completing a transaction, "I wish you well, your Royal Highness".

You had to admit; that form of address which you were bound to hear almost every day from now on poured acid over your bleeding heart. His lips only meant to call you by your name and that alone, but once again duty sealed that word away, turning it into a taboo.

"Che-", you stopped yourself. That was too familiar. "Thank you Your Majesty", you curtseyed slightly and followed the bloody path Chevalier had marked, all the way to the exit. As he had promised, Gilbert waited for you in a lavishly decorated carriage.

"Shall we?", he offered you his hand.

You took it without a word and sat in silence like an inmate as the carriage drove you back to your home. Your lungs struggled to breathe every time the memory of Chevalier's cold eyes flashed by you never knowing how fast that ice had melted after you left the Lord's estate.

Miles away from you now, Chevalier sat on his knees in the middle of the destroyed room. He was not crying; he could not. This was something he had expected, yet all the time in the world could not have prepared him for it.

The heavens had ignored his plea. You were gone.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A reader x Chevalier Michel fanfiction

Chapter 7a >> Chapters Masterlist

This chapter is nsfw. Read it separately as a Gilbert x Fem!Reader Smut.

Warnings: breath play, fingering, oral (fem receiving), vaginal penetration, orgasm delay, pet names, use of condom (sort of, it's medieval, just be safe kids)

Book Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily.

It had been almost a month since your return from Rhodolite. The Obsidianite palace, cold and unwelcoming as it was, was slowly settling in your heart as home. There was a strange sense of safety that only you felt in what was in fact a wolf's den.

You were just finishing up your daily paperwork when you felt Gilbert's hands embrace you from behind.

"How was your day, my dear?", he began kissing your neck. His hands stroke your torso over your dress, sending your heart in a skip. The pen fell from your hand as he nipped at your shoulder. Soon, he was diving one hand inside your bust, the other lifting your chin to draw you into a deep kiss.

"Not as great as yours it seems", you panted.

He continued by unlacing your burgundy gown. His other hand cupped your breast, squeezing it between its fingers.

"Gilbert", you tried to wake him from whatever trance he was in.

The two of you were still in the office, separated by your bedroom by busy public hallways. He gathered your dress under his arm and picked you up in a princess carry, breaking his kiss only after he'd passed through the door. He looked the other way as he snaked a hand between the laces of your dress to tease your nipples again over your thin undergarment. You buried your blushing face in his shoulder and you knew he was smiling about it. He kissed your shoulder blade before bringing the two of you into the safety of his bedroom. He slammed the door with his foot, refusing to let you go.

"We shouldn't be doing this you know", you murmured.

He moved you in his arms so that your legs wrapped around his waist. He pulled you against him, biting at your bust's edge to free your breasts. Once he did, he kissed you fervently, his hands rubbing hard on your clit over your dress.

"Stop me then", he said, but your only response was a long drawn moan as he pressed his thumb hard enough for your chemise to enter your walls with it. Your toes curled and you pulled at his raven locks, gasping at the sensation. "Do it", he said, lightly pinching your nipple with his teeth, "Push me away"

But you couldn't. Not when he was making you feel so good. You didn't sense him walking to the bed before you felt the cold black linen sheets press against your back. He threw away his boots and climbed on top of you. His hands slowly peeled your gown off of you. His fingers traced your body over your chemise, barely touching it. He tapped along the boning of your corset before wedging your legs open. Lodging his knee to press on your cunt, he stripped from his cloak and shirt, taking out his dagger before throwing away his belt. He grazed your skin with its tip and lodged his blade under your white undergarment, ripping it all the way to the edge of your stays. He nicked the sleeves open so he could pull it further down until he removed it completely. You felt the hard lines of the stays press against your bare skin.

He was kissing your breasts, pulled out of the stays. Your hand searched blindly until it found his black cravat. You pulled him up and collapsed your lips on his. His hand snaked beneath your arched back and pressed you against him as he deepened the kiss. Oh, he'd been wanting this for so long. But he was never going to say as much. That would betray how much power you indeed held over him.

He broke the kiss. "I'm gonna make you feel like we're the only ones left alive in the world", he breathed on your lips.

His hands traced your legs, folding them over your body until he secured them on his shoulders. He took the string that held your stays between his teeth and pulled to get the bow undone. His thumb played with your bud as his fingers unlaced the last piece of clothing you wore, before throwing it on the floor.

He blew hot breaths on your shivering body as he descended further down to bury himself between your legs. The black tiger pushed his tongue inside your walls, his red eye locked on your quivering form, revelling at the sight. His ears' thirst for your moans of pleasure was unquenchable.

He focused his kisses further above and explored your walls with his fingers. First one, then two and finally three, curling and pushing in and out of you, searching on your gummy walls for that one spot that would have you seeing stars. He smiled every time you caught your breath, proud of the way he was making you feel. And yet, he never allowed you to climb so high that your only way was to fall down and lose yourself in ecstasy.

"Gilbert", you plead his name, "please"

His thumb and tongue left you completely, only to be replaced by his hand around your waist, turning you around. He guided your ass up, pressing your face over a soft pillow. He traced your spine with his finger before crouching to blow over your sensitized clit.

"Gilbert!", your core clenched around nothing, "please, I need you"

"Need me to do what little bunny?", he kissed your folds and elicitating a gasp.

"Ah....i...i need you inside me"

He turned you back around, pulling you onto his lap. He collapsed his kiss on yours. They were hungrier than you had ever felt them.

"How could I refuse such a request?", he cupped your cheek. You kissed his shoulder as he reached and clothed his hard length before lifting you up and sheathing it inside you. He drank in your expression until he felt his sobriety abandon him.

He guided you down on your back, taking one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist while folding the other over you. He thrust again and again, his lips and teeth marking your torso.

"Tell me", he panted," how much...you want me"

He changed the word from "love" to "want" at the last moment. He needed to hear the former, but the latter would have to do for now. He wanted your heart to completely and to utterly belong to him and no one else, but your thoughts and body would have to do for now. He had never felt so tied down to anything and anyone before. He looked at everything strategically, keeping things close while they were of use. Everything except you.

"I...I want you...Gilbert!", tears of pleasure trickled down the corners of your eyes as his thrusts, though loving, turned rougher.

He rolled your nipples with his thumb, his other hand securing your waist. He had already brought you one orgasm and he was ready to reap a second along with his own. His hand trailed down to play with your most sensitive nerves until he felt you tremble beneath him. He let out a groan the moment he sensed it. Soon after, he pulled out and kissed you fervently while he finished. He wiped your sweat with his thumb before nipping at your bottom lip.

"'Guess they're right after all", he laughed, "I have gone insane indeed. 'Cause I want you too, princess. More than any riches and lands I can conquer"

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 17 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 4132

Warnings: language, violence, blood

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Since when do you of all people sigh?", said Prince James.

"Since meeting your sister", Gilbert rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had his head laid back on the large velvet armchair he had claimed, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

James chuckled. "You better get your head straight or you'll lose", he said as he moved another chess piece on the giant board. Only they were not chess pieces; they were war figurines, stolen from some General's cupboard, and the board was a map of the continent.

"Maybe you'll get your chance to win then", said the Young Emperor.

James gave him an innocent smile. He raised his own glass in a toast. "How can I ever win against an Emperor, Your Majesty", he mocked.

"Stop", Gilbert stood. He walked up to James, stealing the small iron knight from his grasp. He took one look at the board in front of them before deciding to place the piece on a great flat plane, where James had left his scouts.

"My my", James said with a smile, "You just obliterated my men"

"It was your fault for leaving them so open to a cavalry attack", Gilbert responded, "Even the most archaic of armies would have torn them apart".

They sat in agreed silence for a while before James broke it with an invitation to a Merchant's birthday celebration.

"I don't think I'll be in the mood", Gilbert scowled.

"Oh come on", James leaned back on the board, "What's got your knickers in a knot?"

Gilbert sat back down, covering his free eye with his hand. His back slouched as he breathed out a heavy sigh.

"You alright mate?", James asked concerned.

Gilbert kept his head down. He took the Queen of Hearts out of the card deck he kept in his pocket and turned it around and around in his hands. "I don't know what to do", he stilled the card, the queen facing him. "I want to kill him", he said, "I truly want to kill him. But that would make me lose her forever"

"Kill who?"

"Chevalier"

"The King of Rhodolite?", James chuckled, "Why?"

"You don't know?"

"You're the only family who talks to me"

Gilbert held his breath. "He hurt your sister", he chose his words carefully, "and he's still going after her"

James' smile fell off. "What?", he asked.

"You've probably heard about his father", Gilbert turned his head away to hide the smile, his chin resting on his hand, "Do you think the son would be all that different?"

James was casually leaning back on the table that held their game, yet his voice betrayed all the emotions Gilbert hoped to draw out of him. "I heard the brutal beast had a mistress".

"I know for a fact there's a girl named Emma living in the castle"

Gilbert had to keep his back to James as he spoke; his smile stretched his lips too wide, his eyes shone too brightly with wicked victory.

"Bastard", said James, "Why hasn't y/n done anything?"

Gilbert's smile fell. He had to think of something, fast. "She's the future monarch", he said, "Has she ever done anything to give people doubt over her capability for that role?"

"No", James muttered, "As long as it stays a secret she will not act against him".

Gilbert's expression relaxed. It grew joyous once more at the sound of James' next words.

"If he's still a threat then I suppose I could arrange an accident"

Gilbert was practically beaming. Despite his young years, James was especially adept with all the tools required to survive in the world of royal politics; That included eloquence, reason and, most of all, cunning.

"You don't have to do that", he said knowing James was too far gone to back down.

"Hey, I already live in exile", he said, "there's no reason I should not help a friend"

Gilbert's heart clenched. No, he could not back down now. He would not.

"You should know", he told James, "He has a strong threshold for poison, and he's quite skilled with the blade too"

James chuckled. "What a challenge", he said colorfully, "Now I'm actually intrigued to see if I can"

"I'm sure you can", said Gilbert, "You're very capable.

"I'm not sure how that matters anymore"

Gilbert turned to trace him once more. He stood and walked up close enough to rest a hand on the young prince's shoulder.

"There are a lot of changes I plan on making in Obsidian", he said, "Replacing incompetent lords being one of them"

That seemed to peak James' interest.

"You could have the power of a Count as you wait for your father to reinstate you", Gilbert added, "You don't have to just wallow in exile"

James smiled. "You got yourself a deal"

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"How long has it been since you two spoke?", Emma asked from the other side of the cramped carriage.

She had insisted on coming with Chevalier when he left for Benitoite because, as she put it, she owed y/n so much. Yves tagged along when he heard Clavis was coming. And so three people ended up sharing Jonathan's carriage, Chevalier and Clavis following in the carriage behind.

"Almost two years, ever since his exile", said Jonathan, "Y/n always kept contact though. You could say he's always been her Clavis. Well...he's not as nice"

"Not as nice?", Yves shrieked, "You're telling me he's worse than Clavis?". His hands clung to the sides of the carriage as he heaved like a frigthened kitten.

"That is not the part we should be worried about"

"There's more!?", Emma rested her hand on Yves' shoulder as he cried.

"I'm afraid so", Jonathan continued, "He's friends with Gilbert"

Emma grasped the hand of a very panicked Yves, her thumb tracing over his knuckles. "How are we going to convince him to help us then?", she asked calmly.

"We don't, but Chevalier must", said Jonathan.

"This plan is already doomed", Yves despaired.

Jonathan rested his cheek on his hand. "I don't know", he said, "I know my brother. He would never do anything to hurt our family".

He fiddled with his gloves. He turned his gaze outside the glass window of the carriage as they entered the capital. A blue streak of ocean peaked between the houses at every alley they passed by on their way to the royal palace.

"In any case we need him", Jonathan said, "Much like you lot have factions you could say we do too. I serve as a connection to the people, while James is a master in the world of nobility". His shoulders slouched, his arms wrapping around his body. "I'm really useless when it comes to politics and etiquette", he said as the carriage came to a halt, "Even though younger, he's always been the better prince"

"We're here your Highnesses, lady", one of the knights knocked on the door.

"You said he was exiled?", Emma asked before Jonathan could reach for the handle.

But the prince never responded.

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Chevalier fixed his long white coat. It seemed preposterous to attend a noble's party as the head of a nation, and yet lately he seemed quite prone to do illogical things. Prince James had sent Clavis an invitation the moment they arrived in Benitoite. He must have a pretty good network of spies of his own, he thought. Eyepatch was assumed to be the hand that guided all the shadows in the continent and yet given what Jonathan said about his brother, it would be safe to assume that this title was at the very least shared.

He looked through the mirror at y/n's book he had left on the nightstand. His mind battled his heart every minute since she had left. Up until Jonathan showed up in the garden, his mind was winning; but that was only because his heart assumed y/n would be happier without him. That was the sole reason he had not stopped her. But now that it knew she was miserable, it ached and screamed in his chest, clawing its way to his limps and thoughts, unrelentlessly usurping the crown of control.

Loving someone meant you wanted their happiness more than your own. Chevalier had learnt that the hard way. But hearts do not wait for misery to end; they fight until happiness is within their grasp.

It was a quiet event. Yet even the quietest of events would have been filled with rumours as a foreign King arrived, never mind one so rumoured for his coldness and so gossiped about after his recent and sudden change.

"Your Majesty, Your Highnesses", the nobleman came in uneasy steps to greet them, "It is truly an honour to welcome you to my estate".

"The honour is ours, your Lordship", Clavis gave the man a bright smile.

Chevalier wanted to walk away, find the prince and get away from this event. There was nothing he could say that would justify his presence. He represented his nation, now more than ever. He was the head of state, the crown, he was not supposed to attend informal celebrations. So he had nothing to say when the lord asked him about his presence.

"I decided to experience the Benitonian style of life", Chevalier was glad to had brought Clavis along. His brother flung an arm over his shoulder as he continued, "We're here to strengthen our alliance after all and what better way is there than to better understand the life here?"

"Yes, that is correct", Chevalier shook Clavis' arm off of his shoulder.

"Oh! I see!", the nobleman beamed, "Well you have certainly come to the right place, your Majesty! Here you'll meet the cream of Benitoite, and beyond!"

Chevalier gave the man a nod of agreement which the latter probably considered as animosity, given the nervous tick that overtook him. But that did not matter. Chevalier searched the room as his brother occupied the lord. Jonathan stood next to him, shoulders slouched.

"Do you see him?", Chevalier asked the prince.

"No. Not yet."

"What does he look like? "

"I haven't seen him in two years but...brown hair, dark blue eyes. And he always used to carry a cross mother had given him, before he ran away from the church"

"He was a monk?"

"Father wanted him to be a priest"

Chevalier's brows furrowed. Jonathan said he ran away from that world yet he still carried a part of it with him. He had his worries when he heard he was friends with Gilbert, but perhaps Jonathan was not foolish to believe his attachment to his family still held. He gestured towards the other side of the room. Jonathan nodded. It would be easier to search for James if they split up.

The young King walked with a face of ice among the nobleman's guests. He searched from the orchestra to the buffet, from the dance floor to the corridors hidden behind the arches of the grand ballroom, yet he could not find the prince anywhere. He was supposed to be-

Something heavy fell on top of him as he turned around a dark corner. A woman in a tight dress with a low neckline that complimented her figure was using his arms as a crutch in an effort to stand up. The remnants of a broken heel lay behind her. Her red nails plunged into the fabric of his jacket. Chevalier looked at her with a gaze of stone as her eyes widened in realization of what she had done. Without her heel, she lost her balance and reached for the nape of his jacket. Chevalier took a step forward under the weight. He clenched his teeth, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

"Thank you Sir", her voice softened, "You really saved my dignity. That was kind of you"

Chevalier did not respond.

"I'm Melody", she curtseyed, her breasts threatening to spill from her corset. When she raised her gaze again, Chevalier was already gone.

How foolish, he thought, was being a Queen so tempting that there were now women greedy and desperate enough to resort to these vile methods of temptation? Would they still approach him if y/n was at his side? He passed by a swarm of girls, leaning over the balcony that looked to the garden.

"If I asked him to steal me away from here do you think he would?"

"Doubt, I heard he has a fiancee"

"Would that still be on? He's in exile isn't he?"

Chevalier stopped. He was always quiet, but he always listened, and he had never been more grateful than at that moment. He turned around. The girls were staring at something in the garden.

"If she's not here it's her loss", one of them said, "If he loved me I would not let him go"

"I don't know I'd be scared", another added, "They say he's the devil"

"Well then call me damned"

They giggled. That was when their silly banter stopped. Their eyes suddenly register Chevalier approaching. They did not know who he was; if they had, they would not be staring at his eyes with such marvel.

"Is it Prince James you speak of?", he said. For some reason his voice had the girls nudging at each other.

"Yes", a blonde one cleared her throat.

"I need to speak to him about an important matter", Chevalier looked at the now empty garden, "Was he in the garden?"

The girls turned their eyes back over the rim of the balcony. They looked at each other confused.

"He was here a second ago"

Chevalier nodded and, before they could ask him anything else, he disappeared into the darkness that covered the staircase which led to the garden. He quickly passed from the point where James was supposed to had been, carefully hiding himself in the shadows so that the girls would not see him. He looked right and left but the prince was nowhere to be seen. As he passed by the door that led to the beach, a dark figure caught his eye. The orange light of a cigarette lifting and dropping along with his hand, a young man in his early twenties stood on the dark beach by himself, his gaze glued to the horizon. It was too dark to make out his eyes, but his hair was sure to be brown, its soft locks elegantly brushed away from the man's face.

"Prince James", Chevalier called.

The man breathed out some smoke before lazily turning his gaze to meet the King's. "Yes, and you are?", he said.

"Let's not pretend you're not already aware of that", he said in his usual cold tone.

The prince chuckled. "The famed brutal beast", he reached in his pocket to fetch another cigarette, "Or should I say infamous?". He chuckled by himself. He offered the cigarette to Chevalier. "It's flowers, just flavour, not smoke", he said as soon as Chevalier denied his offer.

His eyes were dropped. His movements loose. "No", Chevalier said again.

James leaned back on a nearby rock, his posture, not one reflecting his stature. Chevalier was only just noticing the subtle details; his shirt was half unbuttoned, his eyes heavy with dark circles. His dark blue jacket was stained with something, the smell of alcohol emanating overwhelmingly hard from the spot.

"You came here with my brother", he drew his words, "My awesome big brother"

"I did", Chevalier said plainly.

"Did he tell you we haven't met in two years?"

"He said you were mad at him"

"Did he tell you why??", James leaned closer and closer with each sentence, his eyes wide as they interrogated the young King.

Chevalier took a deep breath. "No", he admitted.

"Jonathan got mad that I fixed his screw-up", said James, "He would had married a greedy whore who never gave a dime about his heart and all she wanted was to be a princess"

"I-"

"BUT HE'S THAT MUCH OF A GULLIBLE IDIOT", James cried, "And when I had her other love affairs published in the papers and had her name ruined he was mad at ME!"

James yelled at Chevalier's face, but his expression did not shift an inch. He took a deep breath before reaching for him. James shoved the hand away. Chevalier frowned. He grabbed the young man by the collar and dragged him along with him as he walked back to the gate. James fought back, as much as the alcohol allowed him.

"The hell are you doing?", he cried, "let me go!". James kicked Chevalier on the leg until he was able to pry himself away, mostly because the young King released him as he rolled his eyes. "Just who do you think you are?", the prince said.

Chevalier did not respond. It was clear that James had now gone on the defensive. Whatever Chevalier said to him, even if it made absolute sense as a logical argument, to the eyes of a drunk and desperate man it would appear to be an attack. He has hoped to at least bring him inside the carriage and have Jonathan take care of him but...

"You're just as pathetic", James mumbled, "I can't believe y/n fell for the same trick"

That drew Chevalier's attention. That was bad, did he think-

"Did you have your fun?", James mocked, "Did you think of Gilbert every time you screwed her? Or was it the money? I know who you are, I've been hearing about you for years. You never do anything without a reason"

That's right; Clavis said they kept tabs. He would had surely complained to this man countless times about his old self. Chevalier never had a blank slate to begin with. He clenched his fists. He lowered his fuming gaze. He had to stay calm. He had been called heartless and ruthless his entire life. So why was it affecting him so much now?

"She wanted to love you and you made her your cock sleeve ", James hissed.

Chevalier had never felt himself snap; yet that was the only thing that could describe the overwhelming feeling that ran through his body, taking control before his mind could think. His hands moved by themselves to grab James and shove him on the rock. His fingers wrapped around the man's throat, his gaze murderous. James gasped for air. That small desperate tune snapped the King back to his senses. He looked back at the prince. His eyes frightened, his fingers clawing at his neck; he was just a kid, almost ten years younger than Chevalier. He let him go, and the prince fell on his knees as he struggled for breath.

Chevalier had ruined his chances.

"Go inside, get water", he said plainly before turning to leave, "I'll find your brother. He'll take you back"

"Gilbert wants you dead", James said.

Chevalier stopped walking. "I know", he said.

"You're not gonna do anything about it?"

"He's not being unreasonable to wish it", Chevalier said coldly, "But going through with it would be irresponsible for someone of his-"

"He ordered me to kill you", James said in a plain tone.

Chevalier straightened his back. "That would be unwise", he responded.

"I know I don't stand a chance", James kept his head low, "Which is why I am not going through with it". Chevalier's face creased from confusion. "Let's talk inside", James waved at him, "I'm getting cold".

The moment Chevalier turned back to the estate he was confronted by four armed soldiers, pointing their blades at his chest. Their clothes were black, blending in with the shadows of the garden, the silver crest of Obsidian embroidered in their capes. Chevalier reached for his sword, quickly unsheathing and taking a defensive pose. Before he could charge at his attackers however, he heard James' quiet yelp from behind. He turned around to find the prince helplessly bound with rope, a short dagger grazing his throat. His eyes shone with desperation underneath the lonely moon, his brows creased with panic.

"Well, well, well, if it is not the Brutal Beast", said one of the soldiers. He kept himself safely behind the protection of his comrades' blades, away from Chevalier's reach. He directed his next words to James, "His Majesty knew you'd back down, you traitorous mongrel".

James thrashed harshly in his attackers' grasp but was only met with a sharp hit on his head with a scabbard. Chevalier's breath caught; Gilbert had really gotten out of control.

"Nothing personal your Majesty, but we would like to execute the traitor now", the man gestured at his followers with his gloved hand

The blade straightened up against James' neck. "Don't", Chevalier said viciously, "You do that, you die"

"We'll die anyway if we don't", said the leader, "Don't worry, your Majesty, we'll have a go at you before the end"

"You will sign your obituary with that but", Chevalier breathed heavily. It was too soon for y/n to lose someone else. Both she and Jonathan had spoken of how y/n and James were the closest in their family. This would surely break her. "Your goal is to kill me", he said calmly, "I will allow it if you let him live"

"The hell is wrong with-"

"A great deal", Chevalier cut James off, "A great deal that would surely only burden your sister in a number of ways"

"And you think sacrificing yourself would make her happy somehow?"

"No. If she loves me half as much as I do her I know it would devastate her", Chevalier said, "But that would still be too little in contrast to how she'd feel if I allow you to be murdered under my watch". He lowered his gaze, his voice broken. "She's known me for a year tops. You are family. I have no delusions of my importance"

The leader nodded. He gestured his followers to release James and they pushed him to the sand. "Now your sword", he said and Chevalier complied.

"Go", The King told James. The prince staggered away in fear. "Tell y/n I-"

Chevalier's eyes fell on one of his attackers' shoes; specifically its broken heel. His mind finally realised what was bugging him since the soldiers arrived. His body finally relaxed.

"James", he called, "Call back your people or else."

James' eyes widened before he exploded into a burst of uncontrollable laughter. "Man", he breathed, "You're good. It took you a while longer than I thought it would though, I'm honoured"

"You're not even drunk are you"

"That is true as well", James wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes as the soldiers threw away their ridiculous attires.

"My, I think it was the heel"

Chevalier turned his gaze to the soldier with the broken heel. Or rather, the woman who had fallen into his arms when he was at the ball. She had pulled back her hair into a tight ponytail, her tight dress replaced by light black armor that covered her entire body.

"It was hardly the only clue darlin", James threw his arm over her shoulder, giving her a small peck on the cheek.

"Let me apologize for the way I spoke to you your Majesty", the man who was portraying the troop leader bent his body in half, "The truth is, he is an ass"

"Melville, shut up", James fixed his suit. He ran his fingers over his slick hair, clearing it away from his face. "I'm surprised Clavis hasn't gotten one on you over the years", he said. Chevalier did not respond. "Ooh scary", James smiled deviously before approaching the young King, "You have my full support. I'll help you in whatever way I can"

Chevalier raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

"Melville, please take the others and fuck off"

"Your Majesty", Melville bowed to Chevalier once again, "If you kill him I won't say a word"

James pretended to be shocked. "Et tu Brutus?", he said theatrically.

Melville shook his shoulders with a smile before gesturing the other soldiers to follow him.

"Melody, honey, you too please", James wrapped his hand around the woman's waist and gave her a short kiss on the lips.

Melody cupped his cheeks, smiling, before turning to Chevalier. "I won't say anything either", she said playfully and kissed James' exaggeratedly shocked mask of a face.

He watched her form with a smile until she disappeared into the depths of the estate.

"I see", said Chevalier.

"Probably not", James sighed, "But you're starting to". He fixed his eyes on Chevalier's. "True love is sacrifice", he said determined, "Gilbert only understands obsession".

He handed over a crumbled letter to the young King, y/n's beautiful signature at its bottom. It was filled with words of love for Chevalier, even though it was addressed to James. Words smudged with tears. It told of her struggle to love Gilbert, or even be around him when her thoughts were occupied by his hated rival. How she cried when the bed was empty and how she only slept with her back on her fiance, to pretend he was someone else. How she hurt to not give back to Gilbert when he tried so hard, but her concern was Chevalier's broken heart as she gazed at it behind his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wish I had never met one of them, for knowing both has broken me. Chevalier taught me love while Gilbert showed me why I can't ever have it", the last sentences read, "If I had not met Chevalier I would live in happy ignorance. If I had not met Gilbert, I would spend my days in ecstatic happiness. What measure of apology would be enough for me to want the latter?"

"If she had never met me..."

"That is not the point", James snatched the letter away, "This letter is simply proof that my sister is a good person. But i'm not. And I sure as hell know you're not either"

Chevalier frowned. What did he mean?

"Is it really that wrong to want happiness?"

Chevalier let out a deep sigh. "For people of our"

"Cut the crap. Of course it's not. You're human. Both of you are". James was frowning. His eyes blazed, drilling deep into Chevalier's as they challenged his ideals. "Let me ask you this", he said, "Why did you come here?"

Chevalier remained silent for a little while. "Because she's not happier without me as I first thought", he finally said.

James smiled again. "Exactly", he told him, "So let's get you back in her arms"

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 9 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2409 words

Warnings: angst kinda, mentions of death, nothing too triggering in this one

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily.

Author’s note: This chapter is told from Chev’s pov

For the first time in his life, Chevalier woke up before noon. His eyes stared sorrowfully at the white and gold ceiling of his royal bedroom. He rubbed them with the back of his hand before letting it rest on his forehead. 

Why did he send her here?

There was no doubt that Gilbert had spies inside the palace. He must have already suspected the King’s passing. Had he sent y/n to confirm it? Did he trust so much in her loyalty that he was blind to where it truly laid? She had warned them barely a moment after she set foot in the palace. Was it intentional? A play to throw them off guard on her true goal?

No. It could not be. It was too perfect. She was not the same as that man. It was her own decission to tell him what she knew.

But was that what Gilbert expected of her?

He let out a heavy sigh. He always saw through everything and everyone and yet Gilbert's machinations always had a thing for causing him all sorts of trouble. He was a true disaster of a person, one which the world would be better off without.

Did she love him?

The thought intruded into his mind. He did not understand its source and he could not justify its existence. And yet it was there, lodging itself between the wheels of his brain, keeping them from their usual turn. He frowned. He closed his eyes and drove the thought away. How pathetic did he have to be to allow such a trifle to hinder his duty?

He got up. His sleep had long been chased away by her image. He wore his long blue and white cloak with elegance over his shoulder and made his way to the dining room. His brothers were all there, save Clavis, along with their annoying new addition to the palace. Everyone but the girl they called "Belle" stared at him with their jaws practically hanging down to the floor. Every day for the past twenty years and so he had dined alone, and always at a time when food would not be considered breakfast anymore. There was every day, and then there was today.

Chevalier passed by their shocked faces and silently sat at the other edge of the long table. A trembling servant brought food to him. Chevalier refrained from looking at the man, in thought he might frighten him even more. He scrapped the superfluous amount of honey from the pancakes in front of him. He glared at his youngest of brothers, lazily munching on his food with a jar of honey next to his plate; no doubt the perpetrator of this travesty.

"Oh-", Sariel stopped in his tracks as he entered the room, "Prince Chevalier? You're here?"

There was no point in answering such an idiotic question. Four-eyes had eyes of his own after all. Chevalier dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and left. There was even less point in finishing that atrocity that was brought to him. He remembered why he had stopped taking any meals in that room.

Chevalier was always quick to finish his due work. Given that he had woken so early, he was easily done with all the paperwork he did not hand over to Clavis by eleven. By noon, he had squashed another pointless attempt on his life; the culprits in question had the misfortune of seeking him in his room the one day he was not there. Not that the result would had been different if he was. But, with no more work ahead, he had all the time to read the books he had purchased the day before. The maids had left them on a pile inside his private library, as they did every time ever since he had forbidden them from (mis-)arranging them on the shelves. His fingers walked over the hills of their covers until they happened upon a book from the kingdom of Istidor. He traced the lines of the title's golden letters. Istidor was where SHE was from. He had not picked the book with her in mind, or so he thought at the moment of its purchase. But now that he was gazing upon its black leather cover he could not help her name from invading his mind once again.

They say in cases such as these the only way forward is through. That's what he told himself when he chose that book among all others and held it close to his heart as he made his way to the garden. He opened it to the first page as he walked. It was the tale of a knight, a princess' private bodyguard, and how he and she were entangled by the strings of a love that could never be. The scent of roses enveloped him as he crossed the bridge to the flower garden. How useless would it be, he thought, to love a person one could never have.

He stopped. There, under the gazebo where he usually read, was the one person that plagued his rational mind. Y/n, princess of Istidor, was sitting down, back on the pillar, with a large book spread in front of her. Chevalier could not distinguish fantasy from reality anymore; But in that moment he could had sworn she shone under the sun, as the wind swept through her loose hair, rose petals falling around her.

He shook his head. He needed to wake up. This was his designated reading spot. It made no difference whether she was there or not.

She raised her gaze as soon as he walked under the dome. She called his name, startled. He nodded towards her as she tried to get up. Etiquette would have meant that they should greet each other with a bow, but Chevalier knew that she was more likely trying to leave. He hoped that she was comfortable staying with him. She probably was since she sat back down. He slid down the column next to hers and opened his book again. He unknowingly held it in a way that she could see the cover. an inexplicable need for her to notice the origins of his book and was curiously disappointed when she did not inquire about it.

"Are you taking your lunch soon, your highness?", she asked after about an hour.

He turned to look at her. He was familiar enough with the ways of humans that a question such as that usually foreshadowed an invitation. "I tend to take my meals alone", he said. Her face was visibly disappointed in his answer. She wore an understanding and gracious smile which was not real at all.

"I was thinking of joining everyone at the round table room", she said, packing her things, "I'd be delighted if you joined". Even though he had declined her invitation before she had ever spoken it, she still wished him to be there.

"I suppose I could", Chevalier let out a long sigh, "I have nothing better to do"

He walked next to her among the rose bushes. A strand of her hair was let loose from her comb under the wind's rough kiss. Chevalier had no other desire at that moment than to tuck it behind her ear. But such a thing would probably be inappropriate, especially since he had no way of knowing if she even wanted him to. He stopped walking. He did not realise he did, but suddenly y/n had stopped as well and was looking back at him.

"Are you alright, your highness?", her eyes were calm and confused.

"Why did you come?", Chevalier could not keep his question from leaving his lips. The wind blew past the pair of them, scattering y/n's hair. "You could had said no to him"

She scoffed. Her eyes looked to the side. "You don't say no to Gilbert"

Chevalier had heard a lot of unfortunate things in his life. His family, although estranged to him, was surrounded by death and misfortune. Yet right then was the first time he had felt a dark feeling pinching his heart, as if her sadness had transferred onto him. He could hear her voice, see her shadow moving closer to him, but his mind was on how her life with Gilbert would have been. Arranged marriages were nothing new to royalty. It was among the countless responsibilities they bore as leaders to marry for wealth or alliance. He himself was the fruit of a union such as that, although he paid no mind to it, and he and his brothers would probably have to be married strategically in the future, particularly if one became the King. Yet of all the people in the world he trusted Gilbert less. He was intelligent and diligent in his role as a leader of Obsidian, yet ruthless and disastrous for all other people and countries around him. She was not an innocent little country girl to be swooned by his manipulation, but that did not protect her from being swept under one of his plots.

Suddenly he was falling. His eyes focused back on reality and onto y/n crashing onto him. Her expression was surprised; she had probably tripped. Her hands landed on his chest, he brought his instinctively around her. She brought her hand behind his head before they crashed together on the ground between the beautiful red flowers, crushing a few of them underneath them. Chevalier was fully back to reality now. Y/n pulled her hand from under his head, waving and blowing at her fingers. She quickly stopped and redirected her attention onto him. Her eyes gazed worriedly onto his face. She kept asking if he was alright as if she had not fallen with him. Her body was still flush against his yet she seemed not nearly as bothered by it as he. He took her hurt hand on his. His gloved fingers traced the ones she hurt by protecting him. He kept asking himself why she would do that, even as he answered "yes" to her question. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her eyes widened. For a few moments, they stayed there, looking into each other's eyes, longing for something neither one cared to recognise or admit. Her cheek was so close; he wanted to cover it with his palm and rein her rosy lips for a-

"I am truly sorry", she said as she got up. She turned her head away from him.

"I see you are still clumsy", Chevalier said with the softest of smiles, but quickly realised how it could have been misinterpreted.

"Again, I'm truly sorry"

They walked the rest of their way in silence. The princes were once again surprised to see him, a fact that seemed to pass unnoticed by the princess next to him. She greeted the room with the same elegance she carried herself each time. But from where he stood, Chevalier could for the first time see the cracks behind it.

"Emma, correct?", y/n sat across Belle, "You're having lunch with the princes?"

"Oh uhm...yes, your Highness", the girl quivered at the possibility of getting caught. Such a fact would indeed be rather unwanted, but doubtfully a danger as far as y/n was involved.

He gazed at the princess as the servants brought them their food. She seemed anxious and pondering, though no one else seemed to notice such a thing. After their meal, and while the doors to the room were still closed, she put down her utensils and took a big breath.

"It seems I should perhaps let you in on something for your own good", she said. Her eyes sought Chevalier before she continued. "I heard from Gilbert that he is suspecting his Magiesty's demise", she said, "It seems that he is right"

Distraught followed in the small room. Chevalier was not surprised at all. Of course, she would know. The little rabbit was hardly doing a good job of hiding it, and she was more than simply intelligent.

"Your Highness, I assure you his Majesty is perfectly..."

"You're Belle, aren't you?", y/n cut Four-eyes off, "Someone with a pure heart. Interesting. I never thought such a thing was even possible"

"Your Highness?", Belle questioned.

"Your Highness, I assure you-"

"Don't worry your Lordship, I won't tell HIM", she turn back to Emma and added, "But I'm afraid you're not very good at hiding it. You need some circumstantial evidence to explain your presence here. What do you know how to do?".

"I ah...", Emma was quivering in her seat, "I work at a bookstore"

The princess thought for a while before elaborating. "I know", she took hold of Belle's hands, "You impressed me with your skills as a librarian and I decided to have you handle my personal collection. But I could not very well bring you to the palace yet, so I asked for you to be trained in royal etiquette in a place you felt comfortable in"

"Ahahaha, does that mean our little Belle will leave us for Obsidian afterwards?", said Clavis, "My, aren't you a lucky gal!" "Clavis!", cried Yves.

"I can always say she did not make the cut in the end", the princess waved it off as if nothing. She was involving herself more than she should and Chevalier could not figure out why.

"Your Highness, forgive me if I appear ungrateful, as I assure you I am not", said Sariel, "But why would you do such a thing?"

The princess sighed but gave no answer, other than a shake of her shoulders. She delicately wiped her mouth and placed the napkin in front of her before leaving the table. She stopped by the door, hand don the handle.

"Oh and...", she turned back to address the room, but her eyes remained on Chevalier, "I am sorry about your father. You have my condolences"

Her jaw clenched as she said those words but she forced a kind smile anyway. Chevalier had spent the past 30 years of his life effortlessly mastering any skill. He was rarely astounded by other people's abilities. In fact, they came down to only three times. Gilbert, although evil, was intelligent enough to leave him impressed. His brother was diligent and stubborn enough for Chevalier to address him by name. And now, Y/n, although attacked and almost violated by the dead King, stood there with poise and courage and paid respects to his sons.

It was the first time he had seen anyone so strong, and he could not keep his eyes off such radiance anymore.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 7b -> chapters masterlist

Words: short. A quick long scroll

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily.

Notes: Gilbert's POV

Gilbert leaned over the doorframe, his eye observing you as you read under the candlelight. The words you had spoken in the safety kf your sleep had not left him. It had been over a month since that day exhaustion took over you in your carriageride home from Rhodolite, and yet he could not forget the name that left your lips. Chevalier.

He had been so preoccupied with keeping the king busy and away from you, so absorbed with learning the secrets of the palace of roses, that he left your heart feeling lonely. Was that it? Had he been the one who failed you? Were you not satisfied? Or was your heart truly that easy to change its mind, that a few weeks with someone else were enough to shift its loyalties?

No matter the reason, his pain was true. He felt it, stabbing through his own heart every time he remembered that moment. That goddamn whisper that echoed louder than anything else in his memory.

Why? The two of you had been bethroed fkr years. He had protected this engagement and pushed forward the deal that defended your country against its destruction from his father's army. He had cunningly used his strategies and influence to strike a cooperative deal between the emperor and your grandfather. And he had thought that with that he had gained your love. He had more than earned the life the two of you were meant to share. He wanted to shower you with happiness and riches and beauty. And yet...

This was not a betrayal. It could not be. It was merely an infatuation. A temporary situation due to his own neglect of you. Chevalier would never be the man you deserve nor wanted. But the time you spent with him was too short for you to realize. He would choose to sacrifice you in a heartbeat if it meant to save his country, something a human would never be content with. In fact, merely approaching you would bring a scandal so large that he would never consider it an acceptable cost...

That was it.

Gilbert rushed back to his office and looked through the reports he locked in his safe. They told of the rhodolitian palace, and of the King who was nowhere to be seen due to his illness' return. Sariel, the palace devil, was the sole face of the monarchy in public appearances. He assured the public of the King's nursing back to health and yet the palace was plunged in distraught. Meanwhile, the reports made mention of a young woman who had recently come to live there and frequently dined with the princes. This could only mean one thing: the King had already died, and the long-held Belle tradition had already begun.

He was willing to go himself, but now he saw there was a way to cultivate far better results. If he were to go, he might had been able to scare Belle into making a mistake, or exploit the restlessness of the palace to hatch a plan of his own. Yet doing so would only leaving exposed to his own enemies, his location being broadcasted in an official manner. But, if he were to send you to the Kingdom of Roses, he'd be able to manage the situation from the shadows. Unlike him, you would not take advantage of the situation, yet he could easily hide his spies as your attendants. You were very intelligent, therefore making it impossible for the mere likes of them to gain anything from you, but the palace was full of idiots willing to let information and, most importantly, evidence slip. Moreover, you would be granted the time to spend with Chevalier and outgrow your temporary insanity when he rejected you. He might be a genius, but he was truly idiotic when it came to people, Gilbert always thought. And if he did approach you even in the slightest, Gilbert could make the scandal grow tenfold, telling Rhodolite's allies how he approached a woman who was spoken for. He could hear the rumors even then, how the apple does not fall far from the tree after all. He would push the story anyway, for the white tiger being so bold as to sneak himself in your dreams. Gilbert could time it for the exact moment Belle crowned Chevalier as king, an inevitable decision when taking into account the rest of his brothers.

You would be back home, your heart back to its senses. And Rhodolite would be destroyed, and Chevalier with it.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 10 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2284 words

Warnings: mentions of death, dangerous situations, drowning

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily.

It was a lovely day. The sun shone through the entire morning until the late afternoon. The air smelled like rose petals as it always did in the beautiful kingdom you had been staying in for the past two weeks. You were occupying yourself with helping Emma learn everything she needed to fit into high society; even how to lie convincingly. It was a shame, to teach her how to lie. It meant taking away some of the goodness that distinguished her pure heart. You wondered whether she noticed the sorrowful look you gave her each time her eyes left you. In truth, you could not be more jealous of her innocence. Her freedom. You laughed at yourself knowing that even if you were in her shoes, he would still be out of reach. At least, in your position, you had the power to protect your kingdom and family.

To your knowledge, Chevalier considered love to be a frivolous feeling, capable only of exposing our deepest weaknesses. You could not argue on that when the sole reason your kingdom was spared from a bath of blood and tears was Gilbert's strange adoration of you. You could argue even less given how you had been walking upon a tightrope ever since you met the Rhodolitian prince, your duty to your people and your love for him pulling you from each side and you did not know which hand would eventually cause you to fall.

You took your tea in the library. An attendant called "Rio" brought it to you, his eyes full of suspicion. You had seen him follow Emma like a stray puppy, so he was probably only curious. You chose a book; you opened it to its 23rd page and took out a small note. It read:

" My dearest love,

I have missed you every day since you left our castle. Your light makes even this ghastly place look beautiful. I am hoping you will return soon. I have lost interest in the girl.

With love,

Gilbert

P.S. Leave your response in F - CLU - 6, p65"

He designated a book for you to leave a letter to him, but you could not think of what to write as a reply. His message was more of a request than a wish, even if it was not expressed like that. You traced your thumb over his last sentence "I have lost interest...", you mumbled. That was not something Gilbert would say, yet it was written in Gilbert's handwriting. Your eyes shot wide. There was no way Gilbert would give up. The only reason for him to request your return or even say such words was that he had found a way to win.

You left your tea as it was and headed to the war faction's office. Chevalier and Nokto were both there, quietly working through a pile of paperwork as they had their tea.

"Did you write this?", you gave the note to Chevalier. It meant that he would discover your way of correspondence if he had not already, but if he was not the author of that letter then Rhodolite was up for bad news.

"No", he frowned as he handled the note. He was sure to have figured out everything about your method of communication; and more.

"That's concerning"

"I agree"

"What is?", Nokto said from his desk.

You had covered your eyes with your hand and did not even notice when Chevalier pushed a cup and plate towards you. You heard the light clink of the porcelain and thanked him with a smile as you poured some tea to calm down. It was frustrating to know that despite your efforts to cover up Belle's existence, Gilbert was not swayed at all, but even more convinced than before.

"It seems Eyepatch intents to use Belle in some sort of ploy against us", said Chevalier.

"But why?"

"He's not convinced she's my aide", you said after a few sips of the delicious sweet beverage.

"He's probably thinking of using her to expose the King's passing to Jade and Benitoite"

"I assume King Highness has expected that", Notko had a nervous smile but a smile nonetheless.

"Naturally", said Chevalier, "For now, take the girl to Benitoite"

You finished your tea and left. You did not want to hear the rest of the conversation. You had warned them; the less you knew about their response the better for your own kingdom. You dismissed all servants that followed you around. You closed the door to your room behind you and let your back slide down until you were sitting on the floor. Nothing worked in your favour. You were not able to fool Gilbert; perhaps it was a lost cause from the start. But you secretly wished Chevalier had written that letter today. You hoped he had discovered the method of correspondence you yourself had proposed and had left a letter like this to you.

No. You could not let yourself be consumed by these thoughts. There were bigger problems to deal with. Belle had been discovered and Gilbert was going ahead with his plan to-

Why should you care indeed. Rhodolite was not your responsibility, and you were putting your own kingdom at risk with your antics. You untied the strings of your gown and placed it on the armchair by your bed. You trusted Gilbert loved you enough to forgive you but there would only be so much he could forgive. Yet you could not abandon a place as beautiful as Rhodolite to the terrors and tragedies of war. Even if there was no Chevalier in the world, these people led peaceful lives that would be threatened by your fiance's actions. And, unlike Istidor, they had not many means of defence.

You leaned against the bathtub as you filled it with water. Tears you did not plan to fall dripped down and mixed with the bathwater. You got in before the tub was filled. Your chemise was soon soaked and stuck on your body. The sound of the water running at your side calmed your nerves. You laid your head back. Your head was buzzing with thoughts; of regret, of fear, of love, of courage. You closed your eyes. Gilbert had treated you nicely, and yet for the first time in the many years you had known him you were desperately wishing him dead.

The warm surface of the water touched your chin. Your eyes opened but you could barely see. You tried to lift your body with your hands but only managed to slip further down. Your legs were not working either. The tea- you thought. You had not drank yours, but the one intended for Chevalier. But wait- he had it as well. That meant he'd be...

You took a final gasp of air before the waters swallowed your body whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chevalier was still in his office when the words on the papers in front of him began to look blurry. He shook his head to focus but it was not tiredness that bothered him to be cured by such a simple method.

"Annoying", he mumbled.

He took hold of the teapot and opened the lid. The sweet smell of tea overwhelmed him at once but, now that he knew what he was looking for, it was easy to spot the bitterness that it hid. Nightshade. He reached inside his coat and retrieved the antidote to the poison he had drank. He had trained his body to withstand most poisons but even that ability had its limits. His head clear, he was ready to go back to work when a troubling thought came to put all other matters to rest. He run from his office to Nokto's confusion and did not stop until he reached y/n's door.

He knocked. There was no answer. He opened the door. The room was empty. He spotted her finely made dress laying on an armchair . As he approached the carpet underneath him started to sound like the sand where the waves crash. He looked down. It was wet. There was water coming underneath the door to the bathroom. His eyes shot wide. He did not want to open the door but there was no question that he had to. He had encountered war and death and tragedy countless times throughout his life, yet nothing compared to seeing the tub overflowing with water, your body laying at its bottom. He remembered everything in life and yet if one asked him today he would not remember neither how he reached for her, his heart heavy with panic, neither how he laid her down on the wet floor, nor how he desperately resuscitated her until she was coughing up all the water she had taken in. His hands trembled each time he pushed down on her torso, his heart only lightened when she drew breath once more. He laid his head on her shoulder, listening to the beat of her heart.

But the danger was not over yet. He reached inside his coat, but he had no other antidote to give. Fear returned, but he could not let it consume him. He wrapped his coat around her shoulders and took her in his arms.

"Chevalier", she coughed on his chest as he ran outside the room.

"Don't try to talk", he said coldly. It would only rob her of precious oxygen.

"The tea...was poison...ous", she said heavily, "You...you have to...get help...or you'll...you'll die"

Chevalier's hands clenched around her. He held her close as he climbed down the stairs to the infirmary. Why? Why was she only focused on him? She was near death and yet...

He let her down on the bed and scoured through the herbs in the cabinet. The doctor asked him in a terrified voice whether he needed assistance. He barked a list of herbs at him. He was useless when it came to foreign poisons such as this but he could still distinguish calabar beans from regular ones. He crushed them and dilated them with some water so she could get them down in her system. He did not let his body show it, but his heart was holding on to its pieces, dreading y/n's breaths would cease. He dismissed the physician. He held her cold hand, narrowly plucked away from Death's. He stood by her side until her sweating and tachycardia both disappeared. Then, and only then, he relaxed. He touched his forehead to hers and let out a deep sigh. He did not have to whisper his apology to mean it. If he had been just a little bit later she would have-

No. He could not think this way. How could his mind be so cloudy now? Had not the antidote he had made for himself work? But it seemed to have cured y/n's symptoms.

He tensed. There was a light sound of footsteps, hurrying off towards him. He turned just in time to block a black cane coming down upon him. He gazed at Gilbert's furious red eye as the latter was trying to force his cane past Chevalier's hand.

"Princess Y/n!", the jadeian prince cried from the infirmary's entryway.

"This is more than treachery", Gilbert was not smiling as Chevalier expected him to be. He stayed his gaze on Chevalier but addressed Keith, "Your Highness please get someone to restrain the beast"

Reluctantly, the Jadeian prince did as he was told. Gilbert withdrew his cane and ran to take y/n in his arms. "What did you do to her?", he growled.

"I was only trying to save her"

Gilbert held the princess close. "Save her?", he laughed, "You are not capable of saving anyone and I'll prove it to you". He turned to the Second Prince. "Allow me to make a guess", he said, "Someone tried to kill you and you let her get caught in the middle. Again"

Chevalier said nothing. He always looked at Gilbert with hostility, yet it was no longer just because of his disastrous nature. He hated how the tyrant held that wonderful woman so close, yet he could not argue the truth of the words the man uttered.

"It seems I am correct. I wish you well in your efforts to stop me from destroying all you love and worked for", Gilbert's voice came threatening. He walked to the doorway and stopped. His hands were lightly trembling as they held y/n. "You want to know why I did not care if she loved you?", he said, his head turning just enough to look at Chevalier, "Because you could only break her in return. She could never love someone like you for long". He gave Chevalier a smile; a smile of true triumph. "Enjoy your misery", he said and walked away.

And then she was gone. He had taken her. More than that, he had brought the black clouds of war back to Rhodolite. He was sure to turn the entire incident in his favour, parading it as an excuse to destroy Rhodolite and its Second Prince. Chevalier placed his hand on the bed's armrest, where she laid until a few minutes ago. He closed his fist around it until the metal bent under his force. The bastard. Gilbert seemed to love her, but he was simply horrible enough of a person for his ego to prevail over his feelings for her.

Love...

He remembered Gilbert's words. He had said she loved him. Was it true? Was such a thing even possible? He had no idea how precious that love was until he lost it. Would he had fought for it if he knew of its existence? Should he have? Common sense damned all of his actions that brought him and the kingdom to this situation. Yet deep down the only regret he had was not doing more.