Sea of Ice

Chapter Seven: Stars cannot lie



Seifer:

The sun slowly crested the horizon to signal the beginning of a new day. A warm wave swept over the land, washing away the clinging remains of the cool night. Soon the streets began flowing with the morning's dutiful workers. In the palace a similar thriving rose as the rays of sunlight peeked in through the open windows.

At first the warm splash of sunlight that play over Seifer's face could be ignored by turning away from the window. He could easily sleep in another few hours, if only his newly acquired roommates knew the bliss of over-sleeping. Seifer rolled onto his back and curled his arms around his head to block out both the sunlight and the sound of the other servants waking and dressing for the day's work.

A hand gently touched his shoulder, but Seifer angrily turned the opposite way. A lifetime of sleeping in and deciding when he wanted to wake up made him a stubborn resident. Whoever it had been did not try to rouse him a second time. Little talk passed between the other servants as they prepared themselves, cleaned their separate areas, then left to tend to daily chores. Thankful for their departure, Seifer rearranged himself on the stiff bed and urged himself back toward sleep.

The cheerful morning had other plans for the lazy blonde. Birds, of all kinds, began their early day chatter as they woke and flushed to and fro gathering breakfast. Seifer darkly glowered, jade eyes slitting open to leer moodily at the open window. He had never been woken by the sound of so many persistently joyful birds. In Zamir there were only a few indigenous birds, and they certainly did not flock together to create such an ungodly chorus.

Seifer whined piteously to himself as he rolled face down and once again covered his head with both arms. The eastern land really must have a grudge against him, not one single thing had gone smoothly since his arrival. A few matters were more irksome than the bunch of vocal birds souring his morning; such as Laguna stumbling upon him during his shared moonlit bath, or Quistis interrupting his bedroom courting of the moody brunet. Both times Seifer had finally made Squall relax, to open up--to accept and enjoy the attraction that obviously flared between them. Seifer was fairly sure, although reluctant to admit, that he was falling head of heels for the other. Long ago he had admited to his physical attract, but slowly it had become more than just simple lusting. He forgave every transgression, every outburst, he longed to make the other smile, to protect and chase away the other's fears like some heroic warrior..

Of course he would never admit such silly feelings to Squall. He would never live down the embarrassment. Regardless, Seifer was determined to endlessly pursue the brunet in hopes of forming a solid relationship. In fact, the ex-prince mused playfully to himself while swinging his legs off the side of the bed to sit up, his first goal of the day would to make himself completely irresistible so that Squall would be unable kick him out of his bedchambers a second night. It was a frivolous goal, but the beds in the servants quarters were so uncomfortable..

Seifer stood stretching his long profile until his spine cracked in relief, quietly complaining about its night spent on the unyielding mattress. After washing his face he dressed in the unflattering plain servant garments. The articles were a hindrance to his royal blooded good looks--and the ex-prince planned to highlight on that finer point. Surely the palace had a custom tailor; he had a personal seamstress in Zamir and thought it customary for any royal family to have such luxuries. With a smile Seifer set out to start his early morning. It may have been wise for him to be more subtle about his actions, but he abandoned such caution and questioned the first individual he saw. Judging by the disapproving face she gave Seifer, he assumed it was unappropriated, not only in the west but in the east, for servants to approach and question those of higher status.

Seifer still managed to get an answer, learning the best tailor resided outside the palace in the city of Marr. After gathering what little money he had left from his travelings through the desert, Seifer returned to the servant quarters to find the silver wrists cuffs he could wear to mark him as a servant to the royal family. The morning was still early by the time the blonde head out into the city.

Marr really was a spectacular place. Seifer couldn't help but shorten his long strides and admire the town that seemed untouched by the harshness of the desert that laid a few miles to the west. The Cliffs that sheltered them from the winds must have made all the difference. Everywhere plants hung from windows or grew in small personal gardens. Small mechanical wonders were at every turn and once or twice Seifer found himself rooted in mid-stride to stare wide-eyed at the strange little wonders. He had thought Zamir to be the top of the world, but compared to Marr, Zamir seemed to be so.. primitive. The very feeling of the city felt more upbeat, alive; a stark contrast to the gloom that settled like dust over the citizens of his home city.

A pair of black eyes situated on either side of a large curved beck appeared in front of Seifer, causing the blonde to stumble backward to avoid a collision. It blinked curiously at him, and in return, Seifer blinked right back at the large yellow bird that stood in front of him. The creature appeared slender, swift really, with a light body held up by two long scaled legs. A custom made saddle sat on its back, assuring Seifer the bird was a domesticated creature; a working one considering the straps running from the saddle to cart behind it. Stretching it's long neck the bird peered closer at the blonde.

"Nice birdie.. " Seifer submissively raised both hands.

"Wark?" The large smooth beak nudged him in the chest.

"Warrrrk.. ?" Seifer warbled nervously back at bird while edging around it. The large yellow creature followed him with it's head, taking small sniffs of air around him, emitting a soft kweh-like noise with each exhale.

Finally out of reach of the bird, Seifer turned and continued to pick his way down the busy street. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the bird had raised his head above the traffic to watch him leave. Sad warks called after him, but Seifer pushed onward. What a bizarre creature..

After a few wrong turns and misinterpreted directions, Seifer finally found the right shop. It would have helped if he could read the sign, but the eastern kingdom used some sort of script, as they called it, where in Zamir they used hieroglyphs. Seifer cautiously stepped through the doorway to peer around at the walls draped in long stripes of colorful fabrics. Various gowns were on display and Seifer mentally complimented the tailor's impeccable work as he passed.

"Greetings," A small, aged woman seemed to appear from between the folds of a hanging fabric. Her eyes flicked to the silver cuffs before settling curiously on Seifer's face. "From the palace, how unexpected, what can I do for you young dear?"

"I have been sent here to have custom garments made," The lie came easily, but the old woman still gave Seifer a measuring look. Of course Seifer did not exactly look, or behave like a humble palace servant--but who was she to question him.

"Who for?"

"Me."

Again she peered curiously at the blonde, but did not pry. "Very well, and what does your lady wish for you?"

Seifer opened his mouth to correct the woman, but thought better of it and stilled his tongue. The arrangements might go smoother if he didn't spin a tale of how Squall wanted him to wear the rather peculiar piece he was going to request. "I was purchased in the lands of the west and my master wishes that I retain that image."

"Purchased?" The old lady echoed while squinting oddly at the tall man. "Yes.. yes, I do suppose that slavery is still a thriving trade there, you do have a westerly look about you. Although I hope your lady pays you for your service, the nobility have tried very hard to get away from the slave-master image."

She gingerly grabbed his wrist and led him into a backroom. "I haven't made anything of that style in a long time. Does your lady know what she wants?"

After a brief discussion Seifer described to her a common piece of clothing in the west, but seemingly an exotic one in the east. A knee length fitted skirt, the front piece being disconnected much like loincloth--allowing glimpses of his inner thigh when he walked, and when he sat down the middle piece fell to properly cover his privates. It was a fairly simple piece to make and the old woman began taking measurements around his waist and thighs. The clothing of Zamir had always been simple, requiring no additional layers and very few stitches.

As she finished measuring his length, hip to knee, the old woman peered up at Seifer. "Who is your lady?"

Seifer tensed. It had come to a point where he could not make up a lie, surely the woman knew all the noble figures in the palace. He couldn't say Ellone--she was much too kind and sweet to have any risque rumors started about her and some foreign male servant. Seifer spoke the only other name he knew, "Quistis."

"Oh," Her eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly busied herself. "I did not realize you were servant to the Lady Trepe, forgive an old lady's prying."

Seifer arched an eyebrow, but said nothing of it. Apparently this Quistis struck fear into those of the lower class. He mentally noted the information as useful. "She wants me ready before the sun begins it's descent."

"Yes, of course, anything for Lady Trepe."

It only took two full hours for the woman to complete the piece. Privately Seifer had wanted to make it out of crimson, but had decided on keeping to the plain white of a servant. No need to draw too much attention. It looked rather plain, until the woman thought to add a wide sash of dark green, pinning it on either side of his hips with silver buckles to match his wristcuffs and letting long green folds drape down in the back. She stepped back and studied her work, "Dear, I must say you make this style look marvelous. It is very exotic, I hope your lady likes it."

"Me too," Seifer softly spoke while examining himself in the nearby mirror. When he went bare chested, there was no way Squall could deny the fact he look delicious--or so Seifer told himself. "How much will it cost?"

"Oh nothing, tell your lady it is a gift." The woman again appeared nervous.

"Very well, I will tell her of your fine work." He nodded politely and re-dress in his plain servant garb and exited the store with his new bundle. Interesting that Quistis name made the woman on edge, Seifer wonder if he should drop her name a few other places to see what other perks he could earn.

With gold still to burn, Seifer ventured deeper into the town to explore the market. He caught glimpses of other palace servants shopping for food, but they did not grant him any attention. To be ignored, while in a large group of people, unnerved the ex-prince. He almost dared to admit he missed people bowing at his feet and clearing a path. Here people bumped into his shoulder and continued walking. Hollers of nearby traders beckoned him and Seifer began to browse--eventually ending in front of a small table covered with various engineering wonders.

They seemed to be children toys, but their self powered movements enchanted Seifer all the same. Many had cranks and turn keys and Seifer took his time to try out each one, marveling over the mechanics. He picked up a rather plain looking box that was small enough to sit in his palm. It was empty, but had a turnkey on the side so Seifer curiously turned the metal. His eyes widened when he heard music come from the box. He closed the lid, the music halted--opened the lid and it continued. Seifer turned the box over in his hand trying to figure out how the sound was being made.

The trader chuckled at him, "You like?"

"What is it?" Seifer inquired with a flick of his eyes.

"A music box."

Seifer frowned with the simplicity of the name but resumed his examination of the tiny box. The tune it repeated was slow, a tad mellow edging on being haunting. He snapped it closed and focused upon the trader. "How much?"

"For you, a gold." The man's misleading smile crinkled the corners of his dark eyes.

Seifer glared, knowing the price was ridiculous. But in the interest of saving time--and refusing to admit he did not know how to barter--Seifer tossed a gold coin onto the man's table and began to walk away.

"Hey you! What is this? This isn't money!" The man shouted at his back, brandishing the coin at him.

The blonde bristled, then tucked the box into his bundle of clothes before whirling on the man. "What are you talking about?"

"This is money," A second coin was held next to the one Seifer had given, his being thicker and the design differing. "What is this trash you throw on my table? I demand to be paid properly!"

Onlookers turned to the scene and Seifer felt himself wither ever so slightly. The muscle in his cheek flexed as he firmed his jaw, fighting to remain calm. "It's western gold."

"What? You give me traitor's gold?" He continued with an accusing finger pointing at Seifer.

Seifer felt his temper flare, "Traitor!? You--" He took a threatening step toward the merchant, then stopped himself. He growled lowly then sharply pivoted around to stalk away from the booth. "Gold is gold, what does it matter to you!"

"Western trash! Come back and give me real money! Hey! Hey you! Thief!"

Absolutely fuming Seifer continued to plow his way down the street, shoving aside a woman, sending her armful of goods rolling over the street. She cried angrily after him but Seifer didn't hear a thing. He thought he had left everything behind him that day he had taken Squall out of Zamir. He had disowned his own family, yet still a sense of pride fueled his temper at being referred to as a traitor. The merchant had no idea what he was talking about! His people were not traitors--what did it even mean? If anyone, the real traitors were the easterners. They had committed blasphemy by idolizing another god over Bahamut--the creator of the world.

All the way to the palace Seifer fed his anger. He blindly wandered the halls, clutching the goods to his chest with a scowl. It was an irrational anger, and Seifer knew it; knew that he shouldn't care since he had left his old life. He wanted answers, and unknowingly Seifer led himself to Squall's room--his knowledge of the palace's layout was getting better. To his dismay he found the room empty. Snorting his irritation, Seifer set his stuff on the window sill and opted to wait for the brunet's return.

However, patience was never Seifer's strong point, and he soon became restless. Seifer channeled his anger into each of his actions. He changed into his new garment, leaving his chest bare. He meticulously washed his face and arranged his hair using the items meant for Squall. He sampled the oils until he found a faint spice-like aroma he liked and dabbed it against his neck, under both arms then just below his naval. One glance at his dirty feet made Seifer retrieved a wash brush and head out to the bath. A prominent scowl hardened his features and the muscle at the back of his jaw continued to bulged every few seconds.

Everything had to be perfect.

Not knowing of any other bath, Seifer found the warm outdoor pool he and Squall had used the previous night. Thankfully he found it empty and diligently set about cleaning the dirt off his legs and feet. A lovely scent wafted up to his nose, making his actions halt in mid motion. The blonde sat up straight, inhaling deeply at the delicious aroma of food. His stomach rumbled scoldingly at the ex-prince for skipping breakfast.

His anger began to fade at the prospect of finding a meal. Seifer set down the brush and began to follow the intoxicating scent. His stomach spurred him forward and the blonde eventually stumbled onto an outdoor patio. A large table stood in the middle of the open air, brimming with freshly prepared dishes. Again Seifer's stomach grumbled but the blonde made no further steps. The Royal family was seated around the table, Laguna at the head of the table and leading a conversation.

Servants were situated around the table, some holding shade umbrellas while others stood ready to tend to any request. Seifer spotted Squall and, smirkly to himself, silently shifted around to stand on the opposite side of the table to be in plain view for the other. Seifer folded his hands behind his back, showing off his long, chiseled torso. A smile stretched over his lips as he waited to be noticed, jade eyes remaining steadily upon Squall--willing the other to look up.

When storm blue eyes did glance up, they widened in shock. Squall's hand froze and mid-action, holding a piece of orange cantaloupe inches from his gaping mouth. Seifer grinned broadly, internally chuckled at the goofy expression on the other's face. A second pair of blue-grey eyes found Seifer, and Ellone--seated next to her brother--also stared openly.

"Squall?" Laguna broke the daze. "Did you hear me?"

"Uh," Squall blinked rapidly, cheeks tinged with pink. He forced his gaze back to his father. "No, sorry."

"I think it's time you explain to all of us about what happened," Laguna repeated.

Squall coughed lightly, eyes flicking briefly to Seifer before immediately snapping away. The blonde smiled, quite pleased with the effect he was having on the eastern prince. He couldn't wait to get the brunet somewhere more private. "I was kidna--"

"Kidnapped, yes, Ellone told us all about that night. But do you know by who? We never heard anything about you."

Squall visible fidgeted, "Well--"

"It had to be one of the other kingdoms because we searched our lands high and low." Laguna vocalized his inner thoughts, oblivious to the way he interuppted his son.

Brows knitted together as Squall tried to explain, "They sold me as a slave--"

"It is a known fact that only the westerners practice slavery these days," Quistis eagerly supplied the information from here seat across from Ellone. "The other kingdoms have abolished it."

"Yes," Laguna agreed with a gave nod. "That would explain the scars he has."

Quistis leaned forward, concern painted on her delicate face. "What do you mean?"

"His back it littered with marks that could only have come from a whip."

"The way only they would punish a slave. They're such barbarians!" She shook the mental image from her head.

Seifer finally tuned into the conversation, not so concerned about flustering the brunet anymore--especially since Squall shifted to sit with his face pressed into his palm; trying to disappear.

"Heathens!" Laguna agreed with a fist hitting the table. "They invaded our lands, kidnapped my son and tortured him! Do they know no bounds!?"

"Father," Squall meekly spoke, trying again to be heard over the flying assumptions. "That's not ho--"

"No!" Against the fist pounded the table. "I will not allow their evils to go unpunished. It's about time we put an end to their barbaric practices."

Seifer seethed at the words, his heart fluttering in disbelief at the mixute of emotions flooding his mind. His earlier anger at being referred to as a traitor rekindled into an uncontrolled blaze. His chest swelled as he glanced between the outrageous words flying out of Laguna's mouth to the lack of words coming from Squall. When the brunet seemed to shell in on himself, Seifer snapped. His outrage silenced them all, "You're the heathens! Your people are the ones that turned your backs on the gods and chose to only give praise to one. We let you be and we continued to live as we always have--"

"--As murderous animals." Quistis sneered unattractively at him.

Seifer glared at her, causing the blonde woman to frightfully look aside. "We live by the decree of the gods. Something you would not be able to understand. I did not believe it when I was told the east rises against us, but the stars have also warned us of war. You cannot do this!"

All eyes were on the irate blonde. Laguna finally broke the tense silence, "Who are you?"

Squall finally seemed to find his voice, albiet unsteady. "H-he's a native from the west. My servant, I'm sorry--"

"You're apologizing for your servant?" Quistis rhetorically quipped.

Squall narrowed his eyes in return, "He feels strongly about his homeland."

Laguna seemed uninterested in anyone but Seifer. "It is not your place speak freely."

Jade eyes burned with unbridled fury, "You speak of war against my people! I have every right to point out that you are being an idiot. You--"

"Seifer!" Squall shouted, standing up from his seat with palms planted firmly on the table. "Go. Now."

The blonde look taken back, hurt cut through his anger. "Squall.."

"Seifer!" The brunet barked a second time while pointing to the far hall. Seifer snapped his mouth shut and pierced Squall with a loathing glare. He put his rage into the single look, silently demanding that Squall fix the situation, or else. Laguna was talking about wiping out his people and Squall was just passively sitting by--did he forget that he had friends back in Zamir? That despite leaving it all behind, the west was still a large part of Seifer? The blonde turned and stormed away, his anger leaving everyone shaken.

Squall:

Why couldn't Seifer just calm down and think before he burst out with such fiery rage? Squall tightly closed his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose to ease his throbbing headache. "I'll talk with him. Seifer isn't use to being.. " a servant? "being in this situation."

"You need to dismiss him, Squall." Quistis supplied her opinion in the same matter-of-fact tone she had used the previous night. "It's not right to keep him, he has no purpose here."

"Please excuse me," Ellone quietly spoke, here thinly veiled annoyance clearly heard. She bowing her head and stood from the table. "I cannot bear to hear this talk any longer." She curtsied to Laguna. "Sorry father." With an acute frown she left the three alone.

Squall barely noticed her departure, his narrowed gaze had not left Quistis. He wanted to argue with her, but found he couldn't think of a reason why Seifer should stay--aside that he simply wanted Seifer to stay. "He has a point, the west hasn't done anything to the other kingdoms to merit a war."

"What does he know," Quistis shot back, bolder now that Seifer had been removed from the conversation. "He's just a dumb piece of muscle you happened to pick up in that god forsaken desert. What is this my people he talks about? Last I knew slaves didn't hold any claim to the land. He doesn't know anything of how that country is ruled."

"That's not true," Squall growled, but found the words weak when he could not explain that Seifer was a prince, that one day he would have been pharaoh if he had not recklessly abandoned it all for.. for him.

"Any native would feel strongly about their homeland, but that is only because they don't know any better." She turned her bright eyes to Laguna. "I'm more than sure that the north would support your decision to go to war. My father and his army would gladly serve the cause once the marriage is blessed and our lands joined."

Laguna nodded to her words, "There comes a time when a man is either or action, or of words. I will arrange a meeting with the council."

Squall sighed while his arm swept his full plate off the table. Laguna shot a look of disapproval at his son before excusing himself from the table. Quistis remained behind, smiling ever so slightly at the frazzled brunet--blind to his inner turmoil. She plucked up wine and surveyed him over the glass rim. "Will you take a walk with me, Squall?"

Tensing, Squall turned his face away and ignored the request. How could she sit so calmly!? The council was only going to agree to the prospects of war! The reason Squall had first run away was to avoid that, to prevent the council from using Ellone to unleash death on the rest of the world. Squall's forehead hit the table, one hand fisted in his hair while the other weakly pounded against the hard wood.

Quistis pursed her pale lips at him, "Honestly, I have no idea why you are so upset. You of all people should detest the west. They enslaved and tortured you for years."

But I don't..

"You know first hand how their monstrous society works."

Squall couldn't find it in himself to argue out loud. Yes, he had seen the very heart of the west and agreed that they appeared very cruel. Yet Seifer wasn't a monster, he cared about people, cared about him. But, a dark thought sunk Squall's heart into the pit of his stomach, Seifer use to be exactly like the way everyone else spoke. Squall curled his arms around his head while struggling to find any reason why the west did not deserve to be 'righted'. Nothing good had come out of the desert; just pain, fear and misery.

End Chapter.

This chapter seemed to balloon at odd places, then drag on at others. I apologize for the quality, but I am sort of forcing myself to keep writing before I can become distracted and forget this fic all over again.