Feather Flight: "Do You See What You Do To Me?" (part 7)
An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language
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Kuja was spared the dual uproars of the morning- the discovery of Laro in his bed, and then the news that he too would be traveling at the end of the month- by the simple expedient of sleeping through them. It wasn't until the late morning sunlight made it impossible to squeeze another lazy hour out of the day that he finally relented and dug himself out of his impromptu cave of pillows. He thought hard to try and recollect the last time he had allowed himself to lounge in bed until noon and could only muster a vague memory of satin sheets and the admittedly bizarre architecture of the Desert Palace. The over the top opulence may have been a rebellion against the austere functionality of Garland's domain, but it had been a comfortable rebellion. The mage stretched slowly, wondering if he really missed it at all.
// Making servants out of marionettes… they're obedient, sure… but not terribly personable… nothing like Laro…// He grinned at his rumpled reflection and tossed in a saucy wink.
// For one, he's sweet enough to protect my beauty sleep, or my feigned beauty sleep. Easier for him to face down the invading nurses than I… I almost feel bad for the big lump… Ing's expression must have been priceless. //
Yawning hugely, he took his time puttering around and setting his scarce possessions in order before padding downstairs. It was impossible to miss the variety of odd looks aimed his direction.
// What… you'd think that they'd never seen a proper seduction before… // He grimaced into his lunch, packing it away efficiently. // Well, 'attempted seduction'… and an embarrassing one at that. But they don't need to know that. //
Kuja looked thoughtfully out the window. // I'm going with him. //
Positioned at the edge of the small dining hall, he couldn't miss the small physician's flustered arrival. The cat-man sighed as Ing made a bee-line for his table. "Masa."
"I'm going."
Startled at the out of character coolness of his patient, the doctor had to pause to gather his thoughts. "Are you sure? It will be dangerous."
"That seems to be the consensus, yes. And yes, I am still going."
"The Kai is a very important person, he has many duties… I would feel better if you were someplace…"
"… More secure?"
"I was going to say more accepting of outsiders, child. These are not carefree times in which to travel. Your appearance cannot fail to attract attention."
"I know how to 'blend', doctor. I can play 'human' when I have to."
Obviously torn, the thin man smoothed the front of his robe. "In that case, you'd better come with me. Nazer-kai has asked that you be equipped with proper clothing for the trip, things suitable for city-life… The tailor may need some help dealing with your special situation."
Kuja had the grace not to laugh at the carefully chosen words. // He makes it sound like I will need two left-shoes or something… I'm not a /mutant/ who needs to walk around in a cowl and cape… // He paused, catching himself sharply.
// But I am, aren't I… // Scraping the last of the soup from bowl, he quietly stood and nodded.
"Your introduction will be greatly appreciated, but I am sure I can manage to explain any modifications he will need to make. It is a process I have had some experience with after all."
Looking relieved, the mustached-man smiled a little. "Yes of course, you're right. Come along… I need to see to some other things as well today."
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"Well, boots and socks will disguise your feet…"
"… and those are underway…"
"And we can dress you in long coats and robes for the tail…"
"That is acceptable…"
The old man blinked and hung his cloth-tape around his neck in defeat. "But good lord child, what are we going to do about your /Hair/…"
Kuja blinked uncomprehendingly before turning back to the mirror. His frustrated sigh set the feathers mixed into his bangs to floating on a private breeze. The entire mass was now just beginning to tickle his shoulders, and was unmistakably bright silver. The cat-man's eyes narrowed as he considered his options, watching his tailor's reflection do the same.
"What if you were to pluck and dye?"
"No way in Hell."
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It was almost evening by the time Laro staggered out of training to surrender to the inevitable. The mild land-breeze encouraged him to forget about the tedious chore in town and wander the beach, but somehow it wouldn't be the same without his sharp-tongued companion. Of the cat-man there had been no sign. Sighing in annoyance at the world at large, he found his way to a small unassuming shop off of the main street.
// God I hate uniforms… //
To his surprise, the wrinkled tailor was already helping someone else. The younger customer was obviously nearing the end of his own fitting. An array of carefully cut and folded stacks of material around him implied jackets, robes, and other basic essentials of city life.
// A student then? Or a scholar heading back to town? // The long volumes of cloth were as alien to the soldier as a pair of wings. They were favored by the more sedate and intellectual court population and nothing but a hindrance his action-focused mind. He gave the rich colored clothing a last glance of amusement and sought a chair. His predecessor had managed to acquire the only two. With a sigh that spoke volumes about his day, the officer gave his companion a more thorough investigation.
Seeming determined to try to nap as the mayhem of cloth and cutting went on around him, the young man was slouched deep into one of the fitting-room chairs, his feet propped on the other. His traveling-hat shielded his face from the last of the sunset and meager lamplight, providing ample anonymity for his rest. Despite the bored posture there was a certain air of fashion about the scholar. There was also something rather familiar. On a whim, Laro reached over to claim the tightly woven straw obstacle. Disbelief warred with satisfaction when he matched the face and form.
"Oi, Masa. Move your feet."
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Blinking against the unwelcome intrusion of lamplight, Kuja refrained from growling long enough to recognize his tormentor. It wasn't all that surprising to see the soldier, but it was sufficient enough that he instinctively sacrificed his foot rest so the taller man could sit. He watched Laro settle himself, more than aware that his gaze was being returned with interest. The darn man was studying him thoughtfully. It was a little unnerving.
// Well, of course he's interested… this is the first time I've worn anything that isn't a hand-me-down from someone a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier… But does he /like/ it? Or think it's strange? Or /what/… I hate it when I can't read him… //
His scalp hurt. His hair was still adjusting to an unfamiliar style. Kuja glanced to his right a moment to reexamine the strict line of his profile, with his hair pulled flat against his head and into a tight if embarrassingly short braid, he almost didn't recognize himself.
// A little too tight I think… // He refrained from rubbing a particularly sore spot, not wanting to set his work in disarray. The style was uncomfortable, but it did have a number of advantages, the main of which was keeping feathers pinned discretely to his skull. With the addition of a hat, he would feel confident that there was nothing particularly remarkable about his head at all.
// The color could be an asset after all. If people are too busy ogling the silver, they won't notice any of the smaller subterfuges. And having it slicked back does sort of discourage anyone from wanting to play with it… // The cat-man grimaced, feeling off balance by his almost sterile looking appearance.
// I wonder if Laro… // He crushed the thought immediately. It was frivolous to wonder if the taller man liked his hair or any other part of his new look. Dependence on the man for daily needs was acceptable. He strictly forbid himself to further emotional attachment. It had gone too far already.
// And me mooning all day like some sort of fairy-tale princess picking out gowns for a ball… no. I do this for the sake of disguise, nothing more. //
It was impossible to deny the basic pleasure he had felt in being able to try on new clothing. The soft texture of linen and the heavier cottons that made up his shirt and robe reminded him of more civilized times and places. Somehow the brief and refreshing burst of vanity had left him with the taller man's arrival. He sat on his hands to still them, feeling nervous and uncertain. Kuja glared at his calmly appraising friend.
"You're late."
Laro made an eloquent face and turned away, continuing to toy with the hat. "Yes, well, I'd have waited… but the sooner I get it over with the better, I guess."
"Get it over with?"
"The fitting, I've never been a fan of getting crammed into the damn jackets."
"Do you get one like those gentlemen on the beach? They weren't that bad looking…" The cat-man received a hard look for his teasing tone.
"They itch."
"Ah…"
His turn done, the silver-haired man opted to stay and watch Laro's fitting. It was a far more perfunctory affair than his own had been. Many of the man's measurements were apparently already on file. The tailors simply wished to check for final adjustments on the sleeve and leg. Kuja grinned at the man's long-suffering expression.
"Nazer-kai, I'll schedule Juhei to see you next week to start your hair?"
"How long do you think it'll take…?" The forlorn face transformed into a full grimace.
"Two sessions? Maybe three?"
The cat-man forbore to comment until they had been ejected back onto the dusky street. "Hair?"
"Don't ask."
"Oh but I think I must…"
"It's not curlers or anything, if that's what you mean."
"A pity, and here I thought they'd do you up in ringlets."
"You're a cruel man, Masa."
"So what are they going to do to you that requires three sessions?" Feeling suddenly playful, he linked arms with the soldier, catching him by surprise.
Laro gave him a measured look, reaching out to deliberately tug on the end of the short braid. "This."
"Hey!" Nursing his tender scalp he shot an evil look at his escort. "Several days to do one braid? You barely have more hair than I do…"
"Several days for several braids, actually."
"Really? How many?" The sudden image of Laro with a head like a starfish almost made him laugh.
The dark-man heard the amusement and inferred the reason. "Don't be daft. I have no idea how many actually, I've never counted. /A lot/ to say the least. Hundreds."
"Really? Whatever for?"
"Tradition, I suppose. War braids."
"Ooooh and do you cut one off to give to your lady-love as a token when you go out onto the field of honor?"
"Do I /what/?"
Kuja shook his head, dismissing the question. "Never mind, it's a literary thing… read it in a play once."
"Oh…" The taller man shrugged his voice strangely hesitant. "I wouldn't know about that, I've never had anyone who needed a token from me one way or the other."
The rest of the walk back to the clinic was a quiet, almost uncomfortably so. Laro seemed lost in thought, and the cat-man kicked himself quietly for killing the relaxed mood. Somehow it didn't seem a good idea to leave things as they were, and not knowing why, he decided to try and lure the man out of his shell. They stood a moment in the hallway outside of his room. The soldier obviously still miles away, barely aware that they were already 'home.'
Kuja hesitated briefly before gently shaking the closest arm. "Hey, anyone alive in there?" The way the taller man almost jumped proved his assumptions. His would-be lover was badly in need of a distraction. "It's too early to sleep, and I've been cooped up in that stuffy shop all day, take a walk with me?"
"…Walk?"
"Yes. Walk. You know, perambulation? Moving one's limbs in a directed manner in order to cover distance?"
The drawling tone succeeded in finally producing a smile, and Laro shook his head in disbelief. "I swear… you have more /words/ locked in that little scull of yours than anyone I know… pretending to be a scholar suits you…"
Still playing the clown, Kuja twirled once to show off his new sheath-like robe. It buttoned closed at the collar and along the chest before being belted. The long drape was cut to allow free movement of his legs, but hung to a discrete calf-length. "Nay good sir, playing a scholar suits my tail." He made a mournful face. "I had to convince that unimaginative tailor that it simply wouldn't do to have it shoved down a pants' leg."
"That can't be comfortable."
"You have no idea." The silver-haired man tilted his head. "So, how about a walk?"
This time his question was met with an amused shrug. "Why not."
"Good, I'll just ditch these painful things, and we'll be on our way…" It was simple to tug the larger man into the room. Sitting on the bed, he began the harder task of tugging off his new boots. "Makes no sense to get them dirty, and barefoot at this point would be a blessing.
Laro watched a moment before moving to help with a smile. "Here, it's going to take a few days to break those in…" With the taller man pulling, all Kuja had to do was cling to the bedpost to keep from being dragged onto the floor. Free at last, he rubbed his feet with a growl. It only made the soldier laugh again.
"I'm so glad that my pain amuses you."
"I'm sorry, it's just really strange to see you dressed… like this."
"God forbid I wear clothing."
"That is NOT what I meant and you know it…" The soldier had relaxed at last, and moved to perform a similar rescue operation on the cat-man's hair. Kuja batted his hand away.
"Leave it, the longer it stays in this god awful style, the less it will hurt later."
"It looks really…"
"Painful."
"I was going to say, 'official.' But yes, that too."
"Do I look the proper little bureaucrat then? You didn't say anything earlier, so I assumed that I could pose as person fit to associate with the /Great Kai/…"
"I thought you looked fine before…"
"Fine for what? Being kept on a leash? Or in a cage? Or perhaps an exotic addition to your bed…?"
Laro winced. "If I had my way you would do as you pleased and to hell with the bigots. But…"
"Exactly… So let it go, and leave my hair in peace for a moment longer. It isn't /that/ annoying, and really, I am not unaccustomed to pretending to be what I am not." Slipping past the larger man, Kuja opened the door with a flourish. "Shall we go out?"
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The surf was calm; long weeks of sun had set the tone for the season. They had also assisted in some cosmetic repairs to Laro's ever present dark tan. The almost sallow look that had plagued him as an invalid was now impossible to imagine. Kuja frowned, trying to reconcile the two separate images of the man.
// And this is only half-recovered? He must have looked as though he was cut from iron-wood when he was at the top of his form… nothing but chestnut colored muscle and bone… //
Thinking of a wooden version of Laro lead to considering a sculpture of the man, and then how the sculpture would look best if it was bare-chested, or just bare period. The mage squelched the idea ruthlessly, shunting it into the corner with all his other stupid fancies. His soldier was hardly the sort to pose naked for anything, much less for his own amateur drawing efforts.
// It'd be impossible to find charcoal and paper anyway… Art… music… god, this place is so strange I'd almost forgotten about old hobbies… What do they consider art here, I wonder… He mentioned a 'court'… so there would be music there surely, and dancing and other courtly things…// He frowned.
// Wouldn't there? //
"Laro…"
"mmmm?" The tall man looked up from his idle study of the sand.
"What's the capital like? The people? I really don't have any idea what to expect…"
Dark eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What do you want to know? It's a city… I really don't know much to say about it, I've never stayed long… country-bumpkin that I am."
"You?"
"Born and raised. Fishermen. The whole lot of them."
"Around here?"
"No, further north." The man came to a stop, turning to watch the waves roll in.
Sensing the grim mood return, Kuja could have kicked himself. "I'm sorry. I just seem to find one depressing topic after another tonight…" Wondering what the reaction would be, he tucked his hand around the larger arm once again, not leaning, simply touching; a silent offer of support.
"I doubt we'll see much of the town, but the castle is a predictably grand affair. It also has a college attached to it, which makes it seem bigger than it really needs to be. Merritoi used to be something of a cultural center before the war, but when the real capital was ploughed under, well, people just shifted west abit…" Laro's voice was mild and conversational, obviously seeking to distance himself from the past by talking about lighter, less emotional things. The cat-man made an appropriately interested noise, and gently squeezed the captive arm as a signal to continue.
"The current King is just turning thirty I guess, decent statesman, lousy fighter. He's smart enough to know what he's good at and tries to stay out of the way of the rest. Sometimes he's more successful than others. He's popular enough, but the real power is usually split between the generals, the college president, and Lord Riquoi. That old skeleton has a lot of power, even if he doesn't flaunt it. They make a show at the capital of having a senate and letting everyone have their say… but in the end the real decisions are made by five men who as likely as not will stay up all night drinking bourbon and playing Calist"
"Calist?"
"It's sort of card game where you are in a team and can win either by betting or bribery…" The soldier shrugged. "I was never any good at it. They said I couldn't bluff my way out of a paper sack."
"You do have a rather expressive face…" The silver-haired man chuckled lightly. "It's a good thing that battles are fought over long distances it seems."
"Military strategy is completely different."
"Is it? Well it doesn't matter…" Kuja smirked at the blunt assessment of the city politics. "So the 'great Nazer-kai' frequently attended this private council?"
"Once, yes…"
"And you've since been replaced."
"Very likely…"
"And your return will cause no hard feelings?"
Laro looked down is surprise at the question. "What do you mean? A general is a general. It isn't as if someone has to get demoted when I go back…"
"Won't they? Is there a spare army just lying about that no one is commanding?" A shake of the dark man's head agreed with his point. "And given a choice, would the deciding powers at the capital rather have 'the great Kai'? or the man who replaced him…"
"I begin to see your point."
"I wonder that you never considered it before now."
The soldier shrugged whimsically. "I told you, I've never had a good head for politics…"
"That can be a fatal weakness sometimes, great Kai…"
Startled by the formality of the cat-man's tone, Laro dumbly nodded his head in agreement.
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// Why do I have the strange feeling that I'd be better off letting /him/ lead the army… Masa isn't usually this serious. //
His surprise seemed to be contagious. The smaller man suddenly flinched under his wide-eyed stare and stared fixedly at the moonlit surf. For a moment he was tempted to push the issue, to force the secretive creature to reveal the source of his remarkable and unfathomable knowledge. It seemed there was next to nothing that his wily friend didn't know, or couldn't deduce.
// Trained surely, a scholar in his homeland? Or is he just exceptionally good at thinking in devious patterns… Hell, I should teach him Calist, he's probably sweep the table. // He pushed his bemused thoughts aside in favor of glossing over the tense moment. Whatever the cat-man's secrets were, they wouldn't be revealed tonight.
"Who'd have thought my little kitten would make such a marvelous political advisor."
Kuja tensed again and then deliberately relaxed, flashing a sardonic smile up at his escort. "I /told/ you that I would come in handy… And you didn't believe me."
"Heh, I'm reconsidering my words now, I assure you. What else have you got in that bag of tricks of yours, kitten?"
The silver-haired man danced backwards out of reach of his playful grab, 'tsk'-ing merrily. "You'll just have to tell me more about the situation and see won't you…."
"What else do you want to know?"
Kuja tilted his head thoughtfully. "Tell me about this 'council of five,' what sort of men are they?"
Wondering what other revelations he had to look forward to, Laro shrugged and racked his brains for trivia about the capital. "Last I heard… the college president was still Dean Finlay. She's the real head of government at the local level. Before King Martinosso moved in, the castle portion of the college was mostly just for show. She doubles as academic head, and mayor." He scratched his head trying to think of a way to describe the sensible woman.
"She's a bit of an 'old battle ax' really… We got along well enough, and the College has come up with a number of useful inventions for the army. Hopefully I can introduce you to her when we get there. The only worry would be if she kidnaps you in order to fob you off as her adopted son."
"It's nice to know that I can look forward to people liking me…"
"Yeah well, ideally you can stay at the College when I go. It'd be the safest place for you, especially if you can hide in her shadow."
'I thought you wanted me to come back /here/…"
// Damnit, I /did/ say that… stupid Laro, very stupid… // He growled at his inattention.
"You're right, I did."
"Still it would probably be easier if I stayed… Then I could see you if you came back to the capital to report…"
"Unlikely."
The cat-man didn't press his luck. Shrugging to dismiss the lapse, he framed another guiding question. "So there is the King, who is a decent paper pusher but not much else, and a militant librarian, and Lord Riquoi… Tell me about him…"
"Not much to tell really. He's been a fixture at court since the current king was a baby, a close friend of the father and a fellow who plays his cards very close to his chest." Laro ignored the amused snort.
"I think he's younger than he looks… It's hard to tell with him. Something of an epicurean, he's critical of everyone and everything… You'd probably do best to avoid him. He's… conservative."
"I know the type. And now what about the generals? There is you, of course… and who is the other?"
"Everet Ibat Kai, General of the First rank." He paused, wondering what he could impartially say about a man who all but raised him. "He's an excellent general…taught me everything I know…" Laro didn't need to look at his friend to feel the curious stare on him.
// What will I say to him… when I see him again… I don't deserve his friendship, failure that I am… I don't deserve to be welcomed back… How can it be like before, when I have left him to manage things so long on his own… He must be tired. Whoever they found to replace me… it must have been a struggle to get the up-to-speed in time… //
"He's probably out at the front. Someone sane has to be in charge of maintaining the Line."
"Line?"
The soldier grimaced. "The war has basically split the continent in half. On the one side of the Line, there is 'us'…"
"And on the other?"
"Wasteland."
"Surely your opponents are leaving something worth salvaging? Survivors?"
"They have no use for survivors."
"But the cities?"
"They have no use for those either."
"Maybe you had better tell me a little more about these Selwe of yours… they sound, rather peculiar."
// 'Peculiar'… funny choice of words, kitten… We too thought them simply a peculiarity once… before they started systematically wiping us off the face of the earth. //
Laro looked upwards at the tracery of unnatural lines through the starry sky, feeling old and useless. The moon was well on its way towards the horizon.
"Some other time, I think. It's late, Masa; and I'm tired."
For a moment, the deep-blue eyes caught him, darker now with the waning moonlight, the seemed to perfectly match the shades of the water. Again there was a moment of disorientation, the eyes were familiar, but the small man's altered appearance was still startling. Kuja's expression was momentarily unguarded, serious once more. "Who's winning this war, Laro?"
He couldn't help the bitter smile that forced the corners of his mouth upwards. "They are. Shall we go?"
"Yes."
They made their way back in silence. Kuja seemed to have digested his fill for the night, and was thoughtfully distant. He watched the delicate features draw into a slight frown, and wondered what the man was pondering. Sighing at the befuddling night, he found he didn't have the courage to ask.
// It has to be the hair style… it makes him look… different… like I'm talking to a stranger… //
The cat-man thankfully was too preoccupied to notice any unusual nervousness as they crept carefully through the quiet hospital up towards their rooms. In a seeming reversal of their earlier rolls, Laro reached out and caught his companion by the arm before he could slip down the hall to his distant room. For the second time in minutes he was caught by surprise by the blue gaze but this time he didn't let it stop him. There was no resistance to his gentle tug. If anything the cat-man looked amused as he slipped closer, even lifting his hands in expectation of the fierce embrace. It was enough to briefly stoop and rest his cheek against the smooth silk of Kuja's hair. The smaller man smelled of sea salt and also the same cinnamon-like undertone that seemed to be a natural part of him.
// Some times I think I could get lost in you… I want to get lost in you… Go someplace where I can forget about me, and life and everything… and just… //
On a whim, the soldier plucked the offending leather tie from the end of the silvery braid, freeing the thick mass with a few careful tugs so that it spilled around the narrow face in wavy disarray. Burying his hands in the shimmering cascade he accepted the silent offer of the upturned face, and claimed a chaste kiss. The lips beneath his were soft; a far cry from his own chapped and tired feeling skin. Careful of the tender scalp, he combed his fingers through the cat-man's hair, settling it into a more familiar look, and deliberately took a step backwards, bringing them both across the threshold of his room.
// This is a bad idea… I should send him back to his room… Ing will have a coronary if he finds us again like he did this morning… //
The cares and worries suddenly seemed rather foolish and irrelevant. He /wanted/ Masa. Not for anything like what the Doctor was expecting, although if he was honest with himself he wanted that too. Mostly he just wanted to be able to curl around someone, to touch and be touched and not feel alone. Waking up with his silvery lover hadn't been bad at all. It had bordered on almost magical, until the nurses battered down the door. Laro broke free of his musing when a slender hand came up and playfully pinched his nose. He stared at the offending fingers, or tried to, going cross-eyed in the attempt. His undoubtedly silly expression made the cat-man laugh.
"Why Laro… what /has/ come over you…"
"Humor me."
"Gladly. But /how/ do you wish to be humored…?" The sweep of the arched eyebrow was surreal, adorable, and sexy all at once.
"Not like /that/. Just… sleep. Stay and sleep with me?"
"Just sleep?"
"… Masa…" His warning growl provoked another huff of laughter.
"Very well." Kuja shook his head and tried briefly to straighten his stubbornly curling hair. "It's for the best really… I have no idea how I got into this outfit, much less how to get out of it."
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Who is writing a waffy fic? I am. I am!
--Lunar
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