She had feared the day he would find her. She had always known the day would come, that their Fates were too intertwined. Just like her parents had served him, and her grandparents had served his parents, and so on and so forth, she was to serve him. It was her Destiny. It was what she'd been trained to do since birth, the sole reason for her existence. Still she hid in the shadows, running in vain from a meeting that was inevitable.
He came to her, shrouded in the darkness of the night. She was so shocked to see him standing in the doorway of the tavern that she was foolish enough not to flee; instead, she stared at him, as if in a trance. Feeling her gaze on him, he twisted his head to look at her, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. His eyes were as black and heartless as she'd remembered them, and they bored into her own with great intensity.
Time seemed to slow. The dancing and laughter and music of the pub-goers drowned out of her mind. Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck, and she clenched on so tightly to her cup that it shattered in her hands. She felt the shards pierce her skin and the wetness of whiskey and blood ooze down her hand.
She finally broke eye contact with the cold black eyes to look down at the mess she had made. The bartender was saying some kind of nonsense about finding bandages for her while he cleaned the mess.
"I'm alright," she said, though her voice shook slightly. She quickly began to pull out the shards from her hand. "Just get me another drink."
The bartender was affronted. "But, miss, you're hurt!"
"I said I'm fine." Her voice no longer shook; it was sharp and impatient. "Now get me another drink."
"One for me as well, if you will."
She stiffened. No matter how many years it had been, she would never forget that voice, so quiet but so chilling.
"Of course, miss, sir." The bartender bowed his head and quickly left to fetch their drinks. She was silent, and dared not raise her eyes. Her lips quivered.
"Nyphurri." He said her name like one would his lover. She cringed. Then, her face expressionless, she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. She noted the toll the years had taken on him, and briefly she wondered how she must've looked to him.
He was smiling. Smiles were rare from him – or, at least, the time she'd known him, they were – and it reminded her why she preferred his stoic expression so much more.
"What?" he asked softly. "Are you not going to greet me, after all these years? And here I thought we'd been friends!"
Friends? She would've laughed in his face if she hadn't feared the repercussions. He was her superior, and always would be.
"I was once but your lowly servant, my lord Validar," she spoke at last. Her voice was hoarse, but strong and determined. "Never would you deem me a friend, and rightfully so."
He did not reply immediately. The bartender returned, handing each of them a drink. Validar stared into the brown depths of his while Nyphurri drained hers in a single gulp. "What if you could be more than a servant, though?" His voice was now but a whisper. "What if I could offer you greatness?"
Anger suddenly flared in her. Slamming her empty cup down in front of her, she turned to face him, her dark eyes alight with fury. He appeared faintly amused by her reaction, the corner of his lips curving upwards.
"Then I would not believe it," she replied flatly. What little there was of his smile disappeared. "Do not mock me; I am no fool." She had thrown all caution to the wind, for she was furious and past pleasantries. "You are here to kill me, so hurry and be done with it. I tire of all this talk."
He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, he threw back his jewel-encrusted head and laughed. So surprised was she that she knocked over her empty cup; at the same time, she flicked her wrist, and a dagger fell into her hand. She tightened her grip on it.
"Oh, my dear Nyphurri! I am not here to kill you!" His laughter slowly died away, and the smile fell from his lips. "Do put away your dagger."
She smirked ruefully. "Your eyes are as keen as ever." She tossed the dagger carelessly on the tabletop between them. "Or perhaps my skills have rusted over the years."
"I find the latter hard to believe." She raised an eyebrow. If she didn't know any better, Validar had just offered her a compliment, and everybody knew that he had never been one for such flowery nonsense. "How else could you have been here in Plegia all along, scurrying right under my nose and that of the Grimleal Council, without getting caught?"
Her smirk became cocky. "I have only recently returned to my homeland. But it appears I have done so most foolishly."
He cocked his head to the side, looking rather like a vulture scrutinizing its meal. "Foolish, perhaps," he agreed, "but it seems Fate has something planned for you, my dear girl."
She arched an eyebrow high. "And what, pray tell, does She have in store for me?"
He smirked. "A chance at redemption."
Her throat suddenly felt dry. His smirk only widened. He swirled the liquid in his cup before finally taking a sip of it.
"To tell you the truth, I'd forgotten all about you." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. "It has been many years since we have last met, and I had much more to worry about than another deserter." She stiffened in her seat but said nothing. "But when I saw you sitting at this here bar, I remembered. I was angry, of course, at first." He chuckled softly. "But then I knew what our meeting meant. Fate has drawn us here together tonight."
"Fate has a cruel sense of humor, do you not agree?" Her voice was barely audible, but Validar heard her, and he threw back his head and laughed.
"Oh, yes, She surely does. You and I, of all people, understand that." He smiled at her, and she only stared blankly back. Her face was a mask. "But Her humor is not for naught. She offers both of us a chance to be something more."
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "Humor me."
He smirked and drank more of his draught. "I wish to offer you a job."
She laughed sharply. "Your sense of humor is even crueler than of Fate." Her voice was stinging, and any less of a man would've cringed at her tone. Validar, however, only smiled.
"Whatever do you mean?"
She leaned in towards him, placing both hands on the table. "I have failed you once already; why would you give me a chance to do it again? If this is some sort of twisted plan of yours to get me into the grasp of the Council at last, I expected more from you."
He suddenly grasped onto her arm, his long nails biting into her skin. She hissed and tried to escape his grip, but he only tightened his hold on her. "Watch your cheek." His voice was soft and deadly, and she felt her very bones chill. His nails dug harder into her skin, drawing blood. "Lest you wish to feel the wrath of Lord Validar."
She did not respond, hanging her head. He released her, wiping off the blood on her cloak. If this action angered her, she did not show it. He smirked softly.
"Forgive me, my lord." Her voice was as hollow as her expression. "I meant no disrespect." Her hands curled up into fists on her lap.
"You've only forgotten your place. But that can easily be fixed." Her eyes flickered. "Now, what do you say to my offer?"
She pretended to consider it, but she already knew her answer. She did not have much a choice. Cruel indeed was Fate. "If I refuse, you will kill me, will you not?"
He smiled. "Cunning as ever."
"And the Council?"
"Oh, do not worry about them, my dear." He waved his hand vaguely. "All charges of your treason will drop as soon as you are employed by me."
So shocked was she that she couldn't conceal her surprise; her mouth fell open and her eyes widened.
"...This a risky move you take on your behalf, Lord Validar," she said at last, when she had regained her composure. "Many years it's been since I have spied for my Grimleal kin. What makes you think I will not turn my back on you again?"
He smirked. "I place my trust in Fate, as you should learn to do."
She heaved a heavy sigh. There was no point in trying to talk circles around him anymore; he had won, she had lost, and they both knew it. "Very well. I find myself in your employ once more. What shall be my first mission?"
"First and foremost..." He downed the rest of drink. "You shall help me become Plegia's new King." He grinned at her. "And then we will see what path Fate leads us to next."
Honestly, I don't know how I feel about this story. It feels incomplete for a one-shot. Originally I'd intended for this to be a multi-chapter story, but then I realized that I simply do not have the motivation nor time to commit myself to such a story. With the ideas I have for it, it can't be completed in a few short chapters. But I still liked the idea I came up with, so I decided to publish this "one-shot" anyway.
I'd like to hear your thoughts! Feedback and critique is always appreciated, and since I feel unsure about this story, it is doubly appreciated! Thank you!