Title: Last Dance of Chances
By: Aina Song
Fandom(s): Radiata Stories
Genre: Yaoi
Rating: NC-17 (Um… eventually…)
Warning(s): Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.
Pairing(s): Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil
Reviews: Yes, please.
Author's Note: Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with this one!
Teaser: What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…
Chapter Two - Meant To Be
Jack tugged uncomfortably at the cuff of his sleeve as he followed Al up another flight of stairs toward the designated meeting room. He definitely did not like his new attire; it was itchy as hell and made him look like an overgrown child. Though he had enjoyed provoking his new roommate, Jack reminded himself with a slow smirk. Sir Leonard, a young man whose unfortunate fate it was to look ten years older, was just too eager to rise to the bait. And Jack had simply been unable to resist.
"Here you are," the steward announced, pausing in his steps and indicating a closed door some paces ahead. "Your captain mustn't be kept waiting, after all. And permit me one last time to welcome you to the Radiata Knights." Then, bowing, the man turned away and left to fulfill whatever duty next awaited him.
Suspecting Al only respected those he was required to, Jack shrugged and reached his good hand to the door's knob. Yet his thoughts were halted completely when he opened the door and saw who else was waiting for him in the meeting room.
She sat to the right of the small table, wearing the pink feminine version of his own new recruit's attire. Her blonde hair this time was tied up in red ribbons, and her dark green eyes only briefly flicked in his direction before ignoring his arrival entirely. Remembering her conduct in their trial together, Jack purposely chose a chair as far away from Ridley Silverlake as could be managed. But, since the table only seated four, this placed him directly across from her.
From the head of the table, Captain Ganz took note of his behavior and offered Jack a patient smile. "Yes, I know you must believe it unfair, Master Jack. But, as Lady Ridley is a member of the prominent Silverlake family of the Great Eagle of the North, the Prime Minister's hand was forced. Lady Ridley will someday inherit her title as monarch of her family, and will need extensive experience in a variety of training. Knighthood included."
Jack frowned, narrowing his brown eyes at the girl. "So she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth."
Ganz chuckled, "Yes, I suppose you might put it that way. But she does apologize for her misconduct earlier, and has given her word that she will not behave so in the future. Isn't that right, Lady Ridley?"
She lifted her head, finally meeting Jack's glare with one of her own. She was the first to glance away, and she whispered, "Yes, Captain."
Jack felt the existence of the girl's future title did not have to mean that he should so easily forgive her, but he grudgingly nodded his acceptance of her apology. He would see for himself whether her word was good.
Ganz Rothschild proceeded to make a long and heartfelt speech about his hopes for the success of their new brigade. His continued childlike excitement urged a small smile to return to Jack's lips, and he pointedly ignored his fellow brigade member to favor their captain with the attention he deserved. Jack made a single question about the definition of the brigade's name, but Ganz's reply to this was just a bit disappointing, as the captain did not truly know what 'Rose Cochon' meant.
The meeting soon ended, with Ganz announcing that they must all report to the city's southern gate bright and early the next morning. They had already received their first assignment, and their captain was eager to see what they could do. Ridley said nothing, quietly leaving the room without so much as a backward glance. Jack stood too, reminding himself to find parchment and ink on his way back to his room, but his captain surprised him.
"A moment, Master Jack, if you will."
He waited.
Ganz came around the table, "That was a courageous act on your part to sacrifice your hand for your defense, and I commend you. I apologize that our first mission has come too soon for your healing palm."
Jack's bandaged hand curled in a loose fist at his side, and he stood his ground. "Sir, if you're suggesting I stay behind for this one, please don't. I know my limits; I know when to increase my caution."
The captain gave a kind smile beneath his mustache. "I don't doubt that you do. But, for now, perhaps you'll recognize the wisdom in these." And he brought from behind his back a pair of gloves.
Very surprised and humbled, Jack accepted them, noticing straightaway that these were not the padded cotton gloves worn by most novices. These were true knight's gloves, cut from genuine leather; the only upgrade from these would have been the metallic gauntlets worn by knights in armor. Their palms were padded, only just enough so as not to hamper the movement of the hands as a whole, and their knuckles were studded with steel. Glancing at his captain for permission, Jack carefully pulled one glove on around his damaged hand. At first the bandages made it difficult, but he lifted his hand toward his teeth and bit through one of the threads knitting the inside of the glove's wrist. Living with his sister had taught him much he had never thought to learn about sewing and other such humble chores; it was no difficult task for him to determine which thread could be severed without unraveling the entire glove. He also knew how to repair it once the bandages would no longer be needed.
Tugging the other glove on as well, he finally looked up and met his captain's eyes. He let show all his gratitude as he quietly thanked Ganz Rothschild for the gift and the vote of confidence behind it, and then he turned away and retired to his room.
~o~
Jack knew he had an early start in the morning. But he also knew there was a letter he had promised to write, and a friend somewhere waiting to receive it. So, while his roommate slept on upon the top bunk, he sat at Leonard's table and wrote by lantern light. He told of his trial, in full detail, and of his surprising victory. He confessed his frustration that his opponent, who had discarded honor in favor of an unfair advantage, had also been let in on a technicality. And he admitted to an early admiration for his captain, whose childlike eagerness and kind honesty never ceased to amaze him. Lastly, he wrote of the next morning's assignment. He did not know what they would be expected to do, but he swore to give all that was in him into an effort to meet the already high expectations he suspected were aimed toward him due to his trial's unorthodox success.
Silently, thanking whoever had approved the notion that the postal service should be available at any hour of the day or night, Jack slipped out of his room and up to the first floor, to the recruitment lobby.
"A pen and an envelope, please," he softly requested as he approached the desk.
One of the men glanced up. "Bulletin?"
"Delivery," Jack corrected.
"Then you'll be wanting wax to seal it," the man nodded as he gave Jack what he had requested.
Jack folded his letter and slipped it into the envelope, tipping a burning candle over it so that a bit of wax fell along the edges. After it had cooled, he turned the envelope over and dipped the tip of his pen into a well of ink. He remembered Flau's warning about including addresses and other such specifics. So he scribed her name across the center, placing his own name in smaller print in the upper left corner. Gently blowing on it until he was assured the ink had dried, he handed the envelope to the other man and thanked him for the loan of ink and candle wax.
Though the hour was late and the man was obviously tired, he stood up from behind his desk and left immediately to bring the letter to the mail carriers. Jack knew its intended would receive it before sunrise.
~o~
It was decidedly late when at last he lay his head upon his pillow. He closed his eyes, hoping to claim as much rest as possible before his early start the next morning. Yet little more than an hour had passed before he frowned in his sleep and rolled onto his back with a small groan.
"Well done, Jack," a whispering voice cut into his dreams. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."
A pair of eyes, more startlingly blue than any he had ever before seen, filled the vision of his dream, and in his dream he could not turn away as they slowly clouded over while the life drained out of them.
Jack jerked awake as a hand touched his shoulder, and he gasped for air. Eyes flying open, he turned his head and found that his roommate Leonard was kneeling beside his bunk with a guarded expression, a lit lantern casting its glow from atop the table behind him.
"Didn't mean to freak you," the other knight apologized. "But Al just dropped by to remind you that you're to report to your captain by the Lupus Gate in about twenty minutes."
Nodding, Jack sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Leonard reached out a hand, and he clasped it, letting it pull him to his feet. He dressed swiftly, his roommate helping him to locate his boots when it seemed they had disappeared. He had just strapped his belt about his waist and was digging into the bag of his belongings for his satchel of travel remedies, when he caught Leonard surreptitiously watching him from across the room. "What," he asked, tying the satchel to his belt.
Leonard shrugged, turning to face Jack fully now that he had been found out. "You just look paler than yesterday, that's all. Maybe you're sick or something?"
"I'm fine," he answered absently, tugging his new gloves on. Realizing he had still forgotten something, he bent across his bunk to find it.
"Well, you didn't look fine when I woke you. Nightmare?"
Pausing a moment, Jack only replied, "Yeah…"
"Wanna talk about it?"
Straightening, he shook his head. "Thanks, anyway."
Leonard watched as he strapped a strip of leather diagonally across his chest, hooking a simple blade to it behind his back. "That the same practice sword you borrowed for your trial?"
"Yep."
"They let you keep it?"
It was Jack's turn to shrug, "Spoils for being such a good player."
"But it's little more than scrap metal," Leonard chided. His eyes flicked over to the bottom bunk, where Jack's belongings was hidden between it and the wall. "Didn't you have another sword with you when you came in last night?"
"That belonged to my father," Jack patiently explained. "He was a knight, a captain of his own brigade. His sword was passed down to me, but I swore not to claim it as my own until my skills someday surpass his." Even if the mere thought of it does sound impossible, Jack mentally added, something his pride had not allowed him to admit to anyone other than his fair sister.
His roommate was quiet a moment. Seeming to come to a decision, Leonard turned and fiddled with a dark leather sack pushed back against the wall. "Here," he said, tossing something to Jack, who caught it upon reflex. "Buy yourself a better one, first chance you get."
Jack stared at the tiny pouch in his hands, hearing the promising clink of a handful of coins. Having entered the city without money, and remembering now his sister's decree that riches must be earned and not given, the new recruit sighed and tried to offer it back. "I can't accept this…"
"The hell you can't," Leonard softly insisted. "Weapons don't make the knight, but they sure don't hurt, either. Listen, if it makes you feel any better, you can pay me back when you come into some money of your own."
That option did make Jack feel better. Nodding, he tucked the pouch into his satchel of remedies and quickly left the room to catch up with his captain.
~o~
Jack raced through the streets of Radiata, suddenly grateful his sister had once forced him to memorize the entire layout of the city. Radiata was not an overly large city, but its streets were often crowded in places, which had the potential to be somewhat disorienting for a young recruit in a hurry. Just as the Lupus Gate came into view in the distance, however, Jack suddenly heard a sharp whistle. Skidding to a halt, he glanced around.
At first, it appeared as though he was the only one on the street. But then his quick eyes glimpsed movement atop one of the shops, and he turned his head to discover his new bandit friend waving down at him. Seeing that she had gained his attention, Flau Demure lifted one arm high above her head to show she fisted something, which she threw at him with slightly less-than-perfect aim. Stepping a little to the right, Jack caught the small parcel in both hands.
It was a ripe red apple, with a tiny scroll of parchment tied to its stem which read, In case you skipped breakfast.
First the gloves, then the coins to buy a new sword, and now this? Generosity was bombarding Jack at every turn.
Suddenly overwhelmed, he looked up once more toward the shop's rooftop. Flau pointed toward the city's southern gate, then waved in farewell. Smiling, Jack waved back and sped off again in that direction, the apple fisted tightly in his hand.
~o~
His name was Clive.
He was dressed in novice priest's robes, marking him an apprentice of the Olacion Order. His brown hair was cut close to his skull, and there was an open - or blank - expression in his dull grey eyes. It was his goofy grin when introduced that nearly cracked Jack's resolve to be polite.
Clive confessed that, technically, he was still new to the Order. He knew only basic healing chants, and the only weapon he had been allowed was a tiny vial of snake venom. He explained that two drops and a fistful of clotted dirt made for a simple but effective poison bomb.
Ganz Rothschild strived to be supportive to the young man, though Jack could tell his captain was deeply disappointed. It was often that a brigade would receive the aid of one of the various guilds of the city. Yet it appeared the Olacion Order was the only one willing to show a bit of faith in the newly formed Rose Cochon. Though sending perhaps their worst member did not seem much of a vote of confidence, from where Jack was standing.
Captain Ganz revealed the nature of their first assignment. They were to travel to the dwarven village of Earth Valley. There, a dwarf would be waiting with a cartful of goods to deliver to the royal city of Radiata. Their objective was to safeguard that cart and its driver during its trip to the city. Admittedly, it did not sound like much of a mission. Ganz reasoned that as their reputation slowly grew, they might one day find themselves assigned with the glory-giving missions referred to the more popular brigades.
Jack did not complain. It was the prefect type of assignment by which to discover the brigade's individual strengths and how best to combine them.
And so they set out. Their way led along a much-traveled road, passing farmlands and winding around a small forest. For half the day they walked, encountering little trouble at all, before Ganz suggested a moment's rest. Clive immediately dropped to the grass, complaining loudly of his sore feet. Ridley followed more sedately, sinking quietly to her knees and laying her poleax across her lap. She gave all her attention to their captain as Ganz reminded them all that to test one's limits during a mission was often a most dangerous decision. Those were tactics best reserved for the training grounds.
Jack, having already been drilled with such pearls of wisdom throughout his childhood, turned away and studied the nearby forest. He recognized the color and texture of its trees, and he opted to take the chance given to him. "Ridley," he spoke, turning back.
Being so calmly addressed by the one member of their brigade that did not fully trust her seemed to have surprised her a great deal. The blonde beauty forgot her haughty attitude toward him, looking up with wide green eyes as she answered, "Y-yes?"
Reaching behind his shoulder, he pulled free his sword and offered its hilt to the girl. "Hold this for me?"
Looking further surprised, she took the simple blade and laid it with her own weapon upon her lap. "But, why?"
"I'm going to climb one of those trees," Jack smiled, pointing toward the forest. "The sword would only get in my way. And I'd rather trust it to you than to leave it lying about where just anyone could take it for their own or use it against me."
"Master Jack," Ganz Rothschild spoke up. "I hope you're not planning on straying too far…"
"I won't leave your sight, sir," Jack promised. He moved a hand to the satchel hanging from his belt, "As well as training to become a knight, I was apprenticed under a nomad healer. I don't pretend to have knowledge like his, but I do have more than enough to get by."
Clive looked up, staring. "You're a healer?"
Jack turned his eyes upon the young priest, silently chastising himself for bragging about mastering abilities before a novice who had yet to learn their existence. "I'm a knight," he corrected as clearly as possible. "Just one with a handful of extra skills to keep my comrades and myself out of trouble."
"Well spoken," Captain Ganz approved with a smile. "I do applaud that you seem to be a Jack-of-all-trades. But why this sudden urge to climb trees?"
"My supply is incomplete, sir. I'm lacking a few key ingredients to some of my stronger remedies." He turned again and at last approached the forest. "The leaves on those trees may have been at the bottom of my list, but I know an opportunity when I see one."
"But your hand," Ridley softly protested, giving him pause enough to glance over his shoulder. And it was her turn to surprise him by finally looking somewhat guilty for what she had done to him in their trial. "Won't you aggravate your injury?"
Jack glanced down at the hand in question. The gash in his palm was still too fresh, and too deep, to have much healed since the night before. He knew that. But the bandages still held fast around his hand, and the snug padding of his gloves kept him optimistic. "It should be fine, if I'm careful."
And so, suspecting their entire number was now watching him as he went, he grabbed the lowest branch of the first tree he came to and hefted himself up. Once he was aloft in the tree, he balanced himself and flexed his wounded hand. The bandages did seem to hold, and it was reassuring to feel a lack of new liquid fire. His wound had not been stretched open. He could do this. If he took it slow, and took constant care, his hand would know little suffering.
He looked up. The leaves he wanted were those that had just reached maturity, those that would cling to the branches for merely a few days longer before losing their grip as they slowly died. The very concept of it likely seemed impossibly difficult, but Jack had been taught to tell the difference. One had only to look to the veins of the leaves. If they were still a dark green, the leaves were too young. But if the veins were colorless and seemed to be leaning toward a blackened ash, they were too old. The leaves Jack was looking for would be brandishing veins of a strong milky white color, with just a hint of their earlier green in their stems.
Leaning his back against the strength of the tree, he began his search. He silently thanked his good fortune that the summer was still early in season. Soon he had filled a spare wax paper envelope and was tucking it amongst the other herbs in his satchel. Looking down, he saw that his branch was not too high up from the ground. And so, angling his body so that the neighboring branches would not hinder him, he jumped. He dropped heavily, knees bending and good hand catching the grass as gravity tried to punish him for his daring.
"Are you all right, Master Jack?" Ganz wondered, suddenly appearing at his side.
"I'm fine," he answered, though he accepted his captain's offer to help him to stand. Hearing more footsteps, he looked up to find Ridley and Clive had joined them. Ridley's mouth was tilted in a hesitant smile as she offered Jack's sword to its wielder.
It was a dramatic change from the superior expression she usually wore.
And Jack realized she was at last willing to strive to live up to the promise she had vowed the night before, to work together as the team they were meant to be.