Chapter 7:
Fran stood quite impatiently as the airship unloaded at Archades. The airship had traveled from Rozzaria and so the soldiers were more rigorous in their inspection of the passengers than they would have been otherwise. Her bow rested across the back, unstrung, sword at her side, pack slung across her back. She had been shuffled to the back of the line by various people and generally accepted the treatment. She knew that would be the case as soon as she returned to the city and tried not to let the unfairness of the situation bother her.
She focused on the fact that she would soon be seeing Cid again. She had started thinking of time as a hume might many years ago and knew it had been quite some time since she had left Archades.
All other passengers having been served, the Imperials set their sights on the non-hume passengers of the airliner. Two seeqs, a lone moogle, a small party of three bangaa, and herself waited patiently. She took in the city sounds that were audible through the aerodome, the roar of taxis passing by, the fall of footsteps across the pavement. Years ago she had found if deafening, today she found it almost soothing.
She was the last to be attended to.
"Papers?" the guard demanded. Fran provided the thick sheaf of parchment papers attesting to her rights as a citizen. The guard examined them critically, looking for a forgery. He examined the watermark, examined the ink, tested to judiciary seal.
He took a long time with the papers but eventually conceded that they were genuine. He marked them with her entry into Archades and handed the papers back. She folded them neatly and tucked them back into her backpack. She walked past him and thanked him quickly for his help.
She stepped out into the streets of Archades and took a deep breath. She had not missed the smell.
It was early evening, the sun had already set and the lamps lining the streets had come on to allow continued navigation through the streets. She headed to one of the small taverns in the same district as the aerodome. She ordered a drink and headed towards the upper level where the viera of the city had used to congregate so many years ago.
She was working on her second drink when another viera came to join her at the table. She recognized her instantly, Kjta. They nodded to each other, Kjta sliding down into a seat next to Fran.
"I did not think I would see you here again," she stated simply. Fran nodded at that. Viera left their villages for many different reasons. Fran had never shared her own because she had left her village in service of the Wood and no other viera had ever left for such a reason. They usually left because they could no longer live with the Wood the way their sisters did. All of that did not mean that they found any more a place among humes, especially in the cities.
"Is there news of house Bunansa?" Fran knew she could get the information on the street with a few well-placed gil, but knew that Kjta would provide the knowledge for free. The viera of the city formed a loose coalition against the world. Fran knew she had often used her apparent sway with house Bunansa to shield her friends from especially vicious attentions. She wondered how they had faired without her.
"His Grace Rudolfo passed beyond some years ago." Fran relaxed slightly at that. She had never liked the man. Only days after her arrival in the city he had began to pursue her for sex. She had known from her time in Rabanastre that hume males were often fascinated by viera and would pay well for their company in bed but had refused his offers. Kjta herself made her way in the city by such a fashion. It was easier than manual labor or shop keeping, but Fran had never thought to try the profession. It had seemed dishonest to her after she had met Cid. "Her Grace still runs the estate for all appearances. His Grace Cidolfus refused the Senate position he was entitled, and it was passed to his uncle instead. Doctor Cidolfus heads weapons research at Draklor Laboratory."
"Weapons research?" Fran tried to picture the Cid she knew and found she could only imagine him as a young boy, covered in soot, one eyebrow half singed after overloading a power conduit in the house hangar and realized it was not as much of a stretch of the imagination as it had been a few moments ago.
"Aye, key figure in the war with Corraba they say." Fran sighed, realizing belatedly she may have left things go too long, traveling about Ivalice. She got up from the table and made to head towards the door.
"I will return later," she offered by way of explanation.
"The hume males, they are not worth it, Fran," Kjta told her bluntly. Fran nodded in agreement: Kjta was probably right, but she still had her promise from the Wood, however distant that seemed now.
Fran made her way to the taxicab pick up looking for a driver to bribe to take her to the labs. Several drivers ignored her outright but she was able to find one that seemed more willing to take her there after she displayed a sandalwood chop and a few thousand gil. He dropped her at the 76th floor and sped off, leaving her to deal with the consequences of what he assumed was an unwanted visit.
Fran was not entirely sure she would be welcome. Cid had said things many years ago but he was surely a man by now, and men see things different than boys. Her time traveling across Ivalice made that very clear.
She walked purposefully, as though she herself was the master of the laboratory. No one stopped to question her as they scurried around in lab coats. She made her way to the second highest floor, to the lab division head's office. A quick glance at the door confirmed what she had figured, Cid had been too busy with whatever projects struck his fancy to bother with something so mundane as to change his office to a nicer one, perhaps with a window. A neatly stylized 'C.D.B' was engraved on the nameplate. The door was wide open with a man sitting slightly hunched at the desk.
She studied him, quietly while he worked. His hair was cropped short, only an inch or two from his head. She couldn't be sure by how much but he was most definitely taller. He wore spectacles, almost certainly made necessary by too many late nights reading with too little light. A white collar was slightly askew, over the shirt was a red vest gold thread catching enough light to hint at fine stitch work, white gloves to just below his elbows. His build was much slighter than she had thought he would be, not much muscle to speak of, wiry. He obviously had been working with lighter swords if at all. His ears stuck out just a little, his nose slightly broader than she had remembered. He looked as though he had not shaved for a few days. There was the slightest hint of grey around his temples and scattered through the beard. She tried to determine if she found him attractive but could not seem to decide. She put aside the question for later.
She was unsure how long she sat, staring. He worked, flipping through an open book or shuffling through papers on the desk only to return to the draft table seemingly without stopping. She waited. He leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly, probably to remove a kink from his back. She cleared her throat, quietly.
He turned to see the interruption, and stopped, entirely still. She watched him take her in. To his eyes she probably had not changed at all. She wore the same armor, carefully maintained and occasionally patched. She was no taller than she had been. He face was slighter now, but not overmuch. After a few moments it was no longer appraising, it was the look of a man who was not sure his eyes were to be believed or not. Seconds ticked by into minutes. He broke out into a broad smile. She smiled softly in return. He stood up from the desk as though that would get him a better look. He was much taller now, maybe a half foot shorter than Fran.
"You grew your hair out," he said, finally. His voice was much deeper. She'd remembered his voice starting to crack when she had left. She half smiled at the memory. Her hair was longer, grown from mid-back to lower back over the intervening years.
"You have grown taller." That wasn't what she had intended to say. She'd meant to say she missed him, but it seemed wrong to say that now. He walked up to her, leaving maybe a foot of space between them. She tensed for a moment as she waited for him to grab her. It was what she expected after such a violation of space. But then she relaxed slightly, this was Cid. He touched her shoulder and squeezed gently and drew his hand away. She felt cold when he stepped away but managed not to shiver.
He went back to his desk taking a sweeping look over the plans scattered there. He gave them a cursory straightening.
"How long are you staying?" He sounded so uncertain.
"Until I am no longer welcome." Her ears rang with the memory of Cid's father quite cross with her, that somehow she had drawn Cid from the proper place of the Bunansa heir. Crawling through caves and reciting scenes from plays instead of concentrating on his swords and statesmanship. She supposed his silent ire at his sexual advances being thwarted were probably secondary in his mind. As an heir to a great house his son's development held more weight than a passing dalliance. She came back to the present with a start.
"I had always wondered, after I was older if he had –" he trailed off, uncertain. His eyes trailed down, sweeping over her body again. The look was more appraising than before and he seemed to catch himself, turning away. "Is that why you left? Did he try to –?"
"I don't remember you being so inarticulate before," she teased lightly. She sobered. "Yes, your father and I never did see eye to eye on certain – aspects of my service to house Bunansa." Fran winced slightly at the poor euphemism. Cid nodded.
"I suppose I had always suspected your invitation to serve my house had little to do with my own welfare." Fran could only nod. It was strange, she had always known he was intelligent, to discover that he had also become wiser in the past years was not a surprise, but it was strange to see the workings of his mind in action. "No matter, he passed many years ago." Fran knew it was expected to offer consolations but did not feel it was appropriate, so she remained silent.
"You always will be welcome in my home," he offered after a moment's silence. Fran nodded. "Actually I need to be getting back, I'd lost track of the time. There is a party at the palace tonight, to celebrate the birth of young Lord Vayne. The Empress Celesta is my cousin, on my mother's side. I have been commanded to attend." Fran smiled. "I have my aircar, you could get settled in perhaps?"
"That would be appreciated," she accepted graciously. It seemed odd, to slip back into each other's lives so quickly, as though no time had passed. She was not naïve enough to think that it would continue to be so easy, she had been gone far too long. She fell into pace a few steps behind Cid as he walked down a corridor, presumably to an aircar. He stopped. She stopped behind him.
"Would you walk beside me?" Fran took a few steps up to be at his side. It was a much poorer position to spot potential danger. She chuckled realizing she had fallen back into the same steps she had taken when she was to be his protector from the world. She kept the appropriate pace to stay beside him as they walked but had to continue fighting not to fall behind to a more protective stance. He opened the aircar door for her and she climbed in. Cid took a place in the driver's seat he started the car and headed towards North Central.
"The young Princes Dyced and Zalbaras will be there as well." Fran had not kept up on the politics of the realm although she had heard when the young princes had been born.
"Three sons?" Fran was surprised. It was unwise to have so many sons, especially as a Solidor. The whole house had a reputation for in fighting, too many sons to carve up their father's assets would be dangerous for any house. It was even more dangerous for the Emperor.
"Their majesties are quite in love." His tone was ironic. Fran understood that at least. Love was no reason to have enough children to cause civil war. Several times she caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye. He tried to keep his expression blank but the corners of his mouth kept turning up into a half-smile.
Fran could think of nothing to say in response and they passed the rest of the trip to the Bunansa home in silence, Fran staring out the window from time to time, catching glimpses of parts of the city she had traveled so many years ago. She recognized instantly when they came close to the house and Cid brought them to park at the front entrance to the estate. Fran collected her bag and weapons only to see that Cid had opened the car door for her again. She thanked him and exited the car.
The estate smelled different than she recalled. She turned around to discover that the lawns had been cultivated with more green plants and several small ponds instead of the expanse of grass it had been in Cid's father's time. He gestured towards the door and she followed, reminding herself to walk beside him.
He led her to the wing of the house where blood relatives of the Bunansas would have been housed, to his old room actually, and opened the door.
The room had been entirely redecorated. Intricately carved wood furniture replaced the cool metal items that had been there when Cid was a boy. There were several potted plants, some flowers, miniaturized trees and the balcony was covered in ivy, artfully overgrown. A few drawings of airships and mountain ranges were framed on the walls. She turned to look back to Cid, he was nervous she could sense it off him.
"It's lovely," she offered. He relaxed. "How long have these been my rooms then?" He tensed up again.
"I moved to the Lord's rooms some six years ago," Cid supplied by way of an explanation. Fran nodded. "I need to prepare for the fete at the palace, but I'll have them fix you up a proper dinner," he trailed off. "Unless you would like to come to the fete, as my guest of course."
"I'm not sure that would be appropriate," Fran answered. And it would not be, she would be the only viera there. The guests would stare, and perhaps have something nasty to say about Cid for thinking to bring her. She could tell he did not like her answer. "I would but---" she could not finish the sentence.
"No matter," he answered a bit too glibly. "Perhaps next time."
Fran nodded at the pleasant lie; it would not be any more appropriate next time. She had no illusions as to the standing of a viera in the Empire.
She caught sight of Cid just before he was leaving. He'd changed into an even more grand collection of thread and fabric for the occasion, this time predominately purples and blacks with the threads glinting silver. She wondered exactly how many outfits he had tucked away in his wardrobe and smiled broadly.
"What?" he asked, catching her look.
"I believe the humes have a term: clothes horse?" she teased him. He laughed deeply and headed out into the evening.
Fran made her way to the library after dinner only to discover the room had been converted to a sitting room. After a few minutes wandering the halls she was able to ask a servant the correct direction to the library. She made herself comfortable with a book to pass a few hours before heading to sleep.
She was interrupted only a few minutes later by the library door opening. Lady Ananice, Cid's mother, entered and sat down in the chair next to Fran. Fran had had very few conversations with the Lady when she was here before. In truth Fran thought the woman had tended to avoid her.
"Your Grace?" Fran greeted her politely. Ananice scowled.
"You could not have stayed away, could you?" The venom in the woman's voice startled Fran. "Could not let him marry and start a family. And after all these years you come back to this house and even if you leave tomorrow he will not forget you again for another dozen years." Fran sat up, stock still and terrified. The Lady Ananice she had known had no fire, no vemon, only a kind word and a supporting hand to her husband. "There are fey stories like this, hume men who are not wise enough to resist being enchanted by spirits. Do you even realize what you have done? Or is he just a boy you were interested in for a moment?"
Fran continued to sit still and scared. But Ananice had seemed finished releasing whatever fire she had been holding in and was now openly crying. Fran did not know how she was supposed to answer. As much as she had come to understand lies and their necessity she favored the truth. But the truth was something she had spoken out loud only once, to her father, over twenty years ago.
"I love your son," and it was the truth. She hadn't even been sure until that moment. She found him beautiful, his laugh was intoxicating, she had missed him every day she was away, he was her soul mate. If that was not love she doubted she would find anything closer in all her years. Ananice looked at her in shock. Fran was afraid she would yell again or try to drive her away. Instead she cried harder. "But I will not have him," she continued, hoping to comfort the Lady. "When we first met, I did not know the pain it would cause him if he loved me in return. My returning was selfish, I cannot help but want to be near him."
Fran stared at the floor. She realized she should probably be watching Lady Ananice but could not bring herself to look the woman in the eyes.
"He loses himself in women he does not want and will not marry because he cannot have what he does want and you love him?" She spoke in a disbelieving whisper. Fran looked up, confused. "You love him?" Fran nodded.
"He is my soul mate, as viera measure such things." Fran relaxed, feeling she had unburdened something terrible and wonderful. The weight of the secret had been heavy. She thought back to what Ananice had just said, "Loses himself in –?" she trailed off uncertainly. Fran looked into the Lady's face and saw a deep sadness there.
"I do not think he ever thought he could have you." Fran was startled by the way her voice had changed. It was sad and defeated now instead of angry.
"Have me? He sees me as any other hume does, then? A beautiful possession?" Fran looked down at her hands resting in her lap, feeling the beginning of a tear at the corner of her eye.
"He would fight the world for you." Ananice placed a hand across Fran's own. "And you love him?"
"Is it so hard to believe?"
"I'm sorry, the viera in the city -- they play with men, for money and for security." Fran felt a ripple of irritation.
"It is one of the only lives they are allowed in this city," Fran protested. "I know every one of them, or I did, when last I was here. The world is not kind to sisters who leave the Wood."
"I apologize, I always thought you seemed too innocent for such games, and I admit I know almost nothing of your kind. It would do you and Cidolfus both well to admit what is in your hearts, Fran." Her head spun, this woman had gone from yelling to comforting in only a few short minutes.
"To be anything but passing companionship to him would destroy house Bunansa."
"Forget house Bunansa, I'm talking about my son." Ananice sat across from her for many minutes while Fran sat lost in thought. It had not been put into words that Cid loved her, but if she asked the question plainly either answer would hurt. They could never be more than bedroom arrangement, and knowing for sure would be too painful. Fran rose to leave the room.
"Your son is now house Bunansa, that can never be forgotten in this. Good night, your Grace." Fran returned to her room and tried to sleep.
She was still awake when she heard Cid come home. She was not sure she would be able to speak to him tonight and stayed in bed. She heard a woman's laugh, the false kind of a lady trying to flatter a man. She tried to ignore it but her mind would not cooperate and her ears were still too sharp. There was silence for a time where Fran tried to shut her mind and go to sleep.
She heard the soft groan, and knew it was Cid. Sounds of rutting filtered through the open window of her room. She went to the window easing it closed cutting off the night's breeze and making the room feel stifling. Fran was not sure if she actually heard them through the hallway of if it was her imagination filling in the sounds she knew a man and a woman could bring from each other in bed behind closed doors but she could not drown them out. She drew a pillow around her head trying to block out the sounds and felt tears stream down her face leaving damp spots on the bed and pillows.
She never should have returned. Not when it hurt like this.
