Aristocracy
Celes never spoke much of her upbringing, which Locke knew was due to the fact that she felt there wasn't much to tell. She told him once that her parents had given her up at birth for the purpose of Magitek research, but he knew the ways of the Empire enough to know that might not necessarily be the case.
When he saw her in the marketplace in Jidoor, he knew she had aristocratic blood. She moved from stall to stall, observing clothes and armor to replace her temporary clothes they'd obtained back in Zozo.
She had all the physical trademarks of the noblewoman: high cheekbones, long neck and fingers, and a slender build that would've been delicate had she not had the military training and Magitek infusions from such a young age. He wondered about the circumstances of her being relinquished to the hands of the Empire: Was it done willingly, or not? Did she cry? Did her parents cry, or were they even alive for the deed?
As much as Locke enjoyed sharing his inner musings with her, he kept that one to himself, silently rolling a hard candy in his mouth as he walked behind her, listening to her quip sharply back at Sabin's smart remarks about the assortment of dresses an jewlery.
He eyed a string of pearls, inspecting them in passing by rolling them in the palm of his hand with his thumb; they were legit. He thought of how they would look at the crook of her neck and instantly dropped them back on the table as Sabin took notice, feeling guilty at the thought when he reminded himself of Rachel.
How would Celes even react to such a gesture? He brushed the thought off like it never happened, choosing to walk away with his hands in his pockets.
He suppressed a smile later in the evening when Celes, dressed in her newly purchased clothing received an invitation in person to a party at the largest mansion in town, and a halfhearted obligatory extension to a guest of her choice.
Sabin excluded himself quickly, citing a suddenly desperate need to locate Gau as the reason that he relinquish the invitation.
"You know I'm no good at parties like that." Sabin shrugged, as Celes stood between them in silence.
They stood outside the mansion together as the sun set, watching prominent couples enter under the light of various carriages and gas lanterns.
The women were stunning, Locke hadn't seen such a collection of gene pool prizewinners since he infiltrated a party in Vector the year prior. There was slinky gowns revealing backsides and varying degrees of cleavage, crystal glasses of scotch and wine.
Locke stood beside Celes in the moonlight, looking to her and offering her his arm out of jest and custom.
She took it, which he understood as a challenge, with her hair pulled back in simple plaits gathered into a simple bun that showed of jade earrings he could only guess she had purchased that day.
"We need to learn more about this 'Gambler.'" She said, her voice hard and firm as she bluntly erased any sort of romantic intention that could've existed.
"Whatever you say," He spoke as he was mildly amused as they walked, "I'm not the one who got the invite to this place. As far as I know, I'm only eye candy."
Her eye roll made him smile, and they entered the home moments later, eyed suspiciously by onlookers, causing him to be grateful that he cleaned up as much as he did for the event.
Inside they were treated to a selection of drinks from a silver tray, both accepting a glass of wine graciously.
"You look out of place with the bandana." Celes observed, jerking her chin in the direction of his head.
"Only if you make me look that way. A real lady never points out such fashion flaws in her date: she only suppresses them, and buries them deep, deep inside of her where no one will uncover her real thoughts and opinions." He winked at her, privately taking delight in the raise of her eyebrows.
"I didn't ask to be born a lady, so I never held myself to the standard of acting like one." She said smartly, speaking against her glass as she sipped it so that only he could hear.
"A lady never says such honest things." He rebutted, unable to help a smile from sneaking across his lips.
Celes huffed at him and left him from his perch against the wall by the entrance. They were here to gather leads on an airship, but he'd be damned if he didn't have some entertainment in the process when it involved such a stuffy affair.
"Maria!" A dark-suited man called to her from the stairs, causing the guests to fall silent and turn heads to look at the woman in question: his date, flaxen haired with a simple elegance in her fitted top and pants amidst the contrast of the slinky ballgowns around her. Her eyes widened and her shoulders dropped in the middle of all the sudden attention.
"I-I'm not-" She turned to him in search of assistance, and he could only shrug in response. They were across the room from one another now, and there wasn't much he could do.
"Go with it." He mouthed.
He watched her fumble uncomfortably with the neck of her collar line as she approached the man awkwardly, .
"Are you talking to me?" He read her lips as she approached the middle aged man, wineglass clasped tightly in both hands.
The man gawked at her, letting an obvious one hand raised in retreat. "Sorry, my mistake." Locke observed him say, followed by a "Wow, you could pass for Maria in a heartbeat!"
His mind flashed through distant memories of the famed opera singer that he had previously seen on advertisements: the doe eyed blonde who sang at the opera house. He'd met her once, and it wasn't until now that he could see a resemblance of her in Celes.
He watched as the man slipped an envelope into her hand and she opened the letter gingerly, looking over her shoulder nervously to allow a couple ascending the staircase past her as she read it. She exchanged several more words with the man, and Locke was impressed with her composure. Whatever the content of the envelope held it made her visibly perspire, an observation only he could identify in the faint glisten of her collarbone under the large chandelier.
They locked eyes as he walked up the opposite staircase, visibly signaling her to walk over to him. She ignored him and chose to continue to talk to the man instead, so he walked by himself to the hall filled with paintings.
He scanned the room in his peripherals, with the men in thick coats and the women in dresses, it was no wonder he and Celes tuck out like a sore thumb at their entrance but in their lack of funds and time they had little choice.
"The dame has poor taste," he heard an elderly folk observe as he stood at the base of a painting on the wall, "Wearing men's clothing at an event such as this? Has she no class?"
"Very minimal class." Locke replied loudly, collecting the attention of the small group gathered around him "But great legs. You wouldn't be able to see those in a dress."
He smirked as the man scoffed at the remark, muttering lowly in a tone that even he could not decipher and the group followed with him.
Celes emerged minutes later.
"'The Gambler' we've heard so much about intends to kidnap Maria."
"And you have a startling resemblance to Maria, from what I've heard."
Her eyes narrowed. "How did you hear?-"
"It doesn't matter." He turned to her now, unabashed and proud of her puzzled expression. "We switch you with Maria. You attract the Gambler. We get ourselves an airship."
"It sounds like he's been pining for her for some time I don't think I can fool such a man so easily." She handed Locke the envelope. Looking quickly around him for any evidence of private eyes he read the letter inside:
My dear Maria,
I want you for my wife. I'm coming for you...
The Wandering Gambler
"But if we do get an airship, we'd make it to the Empire in no time." Celes thought aloud.
"Let's set up a meeting with him then." Locke shrugged.
Celes' cheeks were flushed red. Perhaps, it was the wine, or perhaps it was her nerves.
He spotted a man standing behind her, and grabbed her by the waist and spun her so that they were standing opposite from where they had been, pulling her away from the painting entirely. She stiffened, pushing him back lightly in modest retaliation of the act.
"What are you doing?" She hissed.
Her stare could petrify any man. But he promptly leaned into her ear and whispered. 'That guy. In the blue shirt.' He paused as her eyes searched the room, now fixated on the right gentleman now focused on approaching a rather timid looking young girl.
'He was about to grope you.'
Celes' eyes widened in shock as she lightly shoved him. "He wouldn't dare."
"You're not a general in these parts, milady." Locke replied, jerking his head to the man again, just as the man snuck an arm across a girl's shoulder blades, trailing down to her buttocks and giving them a light squeeze, causing the girl to yelp and tense, obviously unsure of how to react.
"I can't believe that." She said in disgust, her nose wrinkled.
Locke shrugged. "It happens more commonly than you'd think."
She grabbed him by the shoulder. "You never..."
"No," He replied, "I've only done that with girls who established they wanted some sort of you know, contact-"
Her brows furrowed and she walked swiftly past him. He was teasing her, though it wasn't entirely untrue. He'd had many short-lived encounters with young women after Rachel when his charm got the best of him, usually culminating in a circle of self loathing.
"Celes!" He called after her. She spun around, ignoring several prying stares and whispers.
"I think we have all that we need from here." She stated, looking at his feet before her eyes flickered harshly at his face. His mouth opened an closed, puzzled as he sensed an unexpected layer of hurt from her. The truth was, he relished his time alone with her. But she appeared offended by his humor and had taken it out on him by becoming hyper vigilant in her quest to become Maria, which was originally his idea to begin with.
He followed her back to their room at the inn, where Sabin waited for them at the bar.
"You two need to get it over with already." The broad shouldered man said, shaking his head as Celes walked stoically up the stairs to their room.
Locke said nothing, ordering a double to his friend's drink instead of following her.
"I don't know what you mean. But we have an opera starlet to impersonate if we're going to get an airship."
Sabin raised his brow.
A/N: This chapter was definitely the quickest and most fun to write! I've really been excited to write the next one on the opera itself, since it's one of the most iconic scenes in final fantasy. I have a lot of work hours coming up, so unfortunately it likely won't be finished until next week at the earliest. Thank you for all the reading/reviews so far!