[A/N] In which Lillie becomes a rumor-creating machine, and a good number of the party guests are very gullible. Also, Ahiru and Fakir bickering, just for fun.

Ch 10: Fakir's Fake Fiancée

"Ever wondered how I became the youngest CEO of this company?" Fakir said bitterly. "I was named to be the successor when the former CEO was at a ripe old age of fifty-one, but I didn't wait for his retirement. Long story short, I caused his death."

Ahiru stared back, speechless for a moment. "So you're an assassin too? Gosh, this keeps getting better and better."

Fakir shifted uncomfortably, as if beginning to rethink telling her this story. "That doesn't really matter much. Anyway, it was suspicious, yes. But no one could prove anything. And Rue knew it all."

"How? Wait, so this is why you didn't expose any of that sketchy stuff to the police!"

"Yes. It was blackmail. I still remember her phone call. She told me that she had the evidence to put me in jail for the rest of my life, that she could not only prove that I had killed the CEO but also frame me for crimes I hadn't committed. She's very cunning, you see. She knew that if I turned her in, I would be assuring my doom. So I kept quiet, and so did she."

"Sounds terrible," Ahiru said grimly. "I don't like this Rue character at all. Raven-black hair, pale skin, and maroon eyes, right?"

"Yup, that's Rue. She's the one your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with, huh?" Fakir said, not unkindly. "No wonder you don't like her."

The silence was broken by the buzzing of Fakir's phone, and quickly he answered. Ahiru could barely distinguish Autor's voice, tense and quiet, on the other end of the line.

"I see," Fakir answered, and with a final nod he ended the call.

"We need to go to the gala," Fakir said suddenly.

"Why?" Ahiru said. "That's kind of stupid, you know. Mytho's probably waiting there. Or, in the very least, he's waiting for you to arrive so he can execute his plan."

"I'm well aware," Fakir scowled. "He probably knows already that I haven't gone to the gala. My house will be his next stop. Better go there than wait here like sitting ducks. I didn't say I was sick, if you were wondering. I just told the coordinators that I might not be able to come due to family circumstances."

"That's actually quite brilliant," Ahiru said, feeling impressed. "Considering that it isn't a lie."

"When I show up," Fakir continued, "it will be a pleasant surprise."

"No," Ahiru protested. "At the gala, several people will be there. If anything, more casualties will result if we end up facing off against Mytho. He'll kill them just to get to you. At worst, he might even resort to a mass shooting, just to cause your death and mine amidst many others, excluding the possibility of a bombing or arson. That's assuming he even is there. There's no reason to go."

"Do you have Mytho's number?"

"Yes..."

"Can I call him?"

For a moment, Ahiru simply blinked at Fakir. "Call Mytho. From my phone. Please tell me you have a better plan than that."

"I am being entirely serious."

"There's no point. He won't pick up! I know him much better than you do," Ahiru huffed. "After what just happened, there's no way."

"You'd be surprised," Fakir answered lightly. "Now dial his number and give me your phone."

Puzzled and incredibly curious, Ahiru did as he asked. Her cellphone in hand, Fakir stood and strode out of the room.

"Hey!" Ahiru said crossly. "What's so important that I can't hear what you're saying? Come back here! FAKIR!"

He turned back towards her with a full-on glare that said, shut up, idiot. Much to her surprise, she could hear Mytho's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Mytho," she heard Fakir say, and then his voice became quieter and quieter until she couldn't hear anything at all. He paced out of her view through the hallways, attempting to escape from her though she followed him doggedly. As soon as he had finished the call, Ahiru was standing in his path, fuming.

"What's the deal, huh?" she demanded. "Tell me!"

"It's settled, we're going to the gala," Fakir said briskly, as if that answered her question. "Might want to pack those weapons back into your dress while I get ready. We're leaving in ten minutes."

"Fakir, how many times do I have to tell you? What you're planning is plain stupid! You can't trust Mytho! He'd sooner kill you than make a deal! You said it yourself: this is a death trap! You just can't trust him!"

"We don't have to," Fakir answered, as if this explained everything.

"Then tell me what's going on! I can be helpful, you know!"

Fakir hardly listened to her as he sprinted up the stairs. Ahiru, unwilling to follow him, gave a heaving sigh. "Fine, moron," she muttered to herself, stomping away. Suddenly, remembering something, she stopped in her tracks.

"Wait, do you have skates?" Ahiru called. "Apparently it's on ice! And do you know how to ice skate?"

"We were told a couple of months in advance so we could practice!" Fakir grumbled back. "Of course I know how! I think I have an extra pair of skates, but don't expect them to fit too well."

'Not fitting too well' turned out to be a huge understatement.

"Are you armed?" Ahiru whispered in Fakir's ear as they drove to the gala. "Do you need to borrow a weapon or two?"

Fakir raised his chin as if the question had been an affront to his manliness. "Of course."

"Can you do close combat? Meaning, if things take a turn for the worst, do I need to protect you?"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much!" Fakir snapped, jerking the steering wheel sharply. "I don't need you to protect me!"

"We'll see about that," Ahiru said under her breath, earning another glare from Fakir. "By the way, I think one of my daggers is missing," she observed, with mild concern. "I couldn't find it!"

"Course you couldn't," Fakir answered, eyes on the road. "Not when there's too many to count."

"Hey! I only have about six total!" Ahiru protested.

"Probably just missed it." Fakir shrugged, although there was an odd, pained expression on his face. "All right. Here we are." He turned towards her suddenly. "Ahiru, do you have any pistols on you?"

"Of course."

"How many?"

"Uh...two? Wait. No. I might have snatched one from Autor when he wasn't looking. Make that three."

Fakir scowled as he backed into the parking space. "Don't take any of them with you."

"Why not?" Ahiru fumed. "What about the last time you told me to not take any weapons? I ended up getting knocked out! You honestly think I'd trust you?"

"Noise," Fakir answered grimly. "If one of those goes off, we're doomed."

"Well, I'm taking one anyway. Can't hurt."

"Trust me, Ahiru!" Fakir leapt out and slammed the car door shut as if wishing he could leave Ahiru behind. "Leave the pistols here!"

They walked up the stairs, and right before the massive, regal doors, Ahiru knelt to put on her skates.

"No," Fakir said suddenly. "This building is organized so that there's a skating rink, specifically designed for grand parties, on the ground floor, and a theater below. I have to dance for the crowd. They're going to expect me to perform, remember?"

"But..." Ahiru looked at Fakir's decidedly formal dress. "Are you wearing something suitable?"

"You're not the only one who can hide extra outfits in your clothes," Fakir returned. "If you can hide a weapons shop in that frilly skirt, I can at least hide a couple of things in my suit."

"But what about Mytho? When you're alone on the stage, it's a perfect opportunity for him to take you out."

"He won't," Fakir smirked. "But just in case, I want you to be backstage."

"So when are they going to ask you to perform?"

"Near the end of the gala, when everyone's tired of skating. I remember them telling me that I could join the skating and such, but at about ten-thirty to join the performers at the grand theater that's upstairs. Fifteen minutes afterwards, everyone will be directed to the seats to watch the show."

"All right. What about Mytho?"

"What about him?"

Ahiru elbowed Fakir in the ribs. It hurt more than he would have like to admit. "You called him. Is he going to be here? What about Autor? And what's the secret plan? I have to know so I can be on the lookout."

"Well, first I have to find Lysander, the coordinator, and tell him I'm here."

Throughly unconvinced, Ahiru sulked. "You're really suspicious, you know that?"

"Thanks. Anyway, don't put them on here. Wait till we're inside. Just so you know what's happening."

"I hate these shoes," Ahiru grumbled out of nowhere. "I can't even walk. And they're much too big."

"Be quiet!" Fakir hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard, although no one else was near the entrance. "You can't say things like that!"

"I can and I will!" Ahiru said loudly, feeling empowered.

"Shush! We're going to be arriving late, and it'll draw some attention." Fakir glanced towards the entrance. "Try to look...uh, like you belong. Okay?"

"I'm an expert at that," Ahiru flashed a radiant smile. "Just watch."

Nothing could be further from the truth. A single step on the ice, and Ahiru felt like she would trip and land on her face. Even worse, everyone seemed to naturally glide across the vast expanse of silvery white ice like fairies. The place seemed to have been specifically designed for many people; there was more than enough space to accommodate the skaters, as many as there were, and the ceiling curved into a grand arch above their heads.

Ahiru would have enjoyed the spectacle much more had she known how to skate. Against her better judgement and despite his miffed expression, she clutched at Fakir's arm.

"You're cutting off the circulation in my arm," Fakir complained. "Quit it!"

"You idiot, I don't know how to skate!" Ahiru hissed back. "I have absolutely no idea! I intended to stay off the ice! If it comes to a combat situation, I'll end up being a liability and that's a problem!"

And not only was it incredibly difficult to stay upright, but it was cold. Clad in only a delicate, backless white dress that barely covered her legs, Ahiru couldn't help but start shivering. Looking around, she saw that everyone had dressed much more warmly. Most of the gowns were made of material specifically designed for skating, and several of the ladies had warm shawls wrapped around their shoulders.

"Fa-Fa-Fakir!" Ahiru's teeth chattered, and she momentarily let go of his arm to rub warmth into her shoulders. Mistake. She abruptly plummeted towards the hard ice, and would have fallen had Fakir not caught her by the upper arm and hauled her back to a standing position."How come they didn't say...it...would be so cold?"

"It's on ice, idiot." Fakir said briskly. "Ice is cold. So, something on ice will be cold. Obviously."

"This is terrible," Ahiru grumbled. "I knew we shouldn't have come! I can't even protect you here!"

"I don't need to be protected." Fakir's hard emerald gaze swept their surroundings, and in that moment Ahiru absolutely believed him.

"But where's Mytho?" Ahiru asked. "Weren't we going to meet or something?" Growing anxious, she tugged on his arm. "He could kill us all, Fakir. You know I'm putting my life in your not-so-capable hands now, right?"

She let go of his arm, took a tentative step forward, and pitched face-first onto the ice. Fakir, in panic, grabbed at her arm again, but this time they both plummeted to the ground, earning a bevy of disapproving looks.

"This is hopeless," Fakir muttered, and Ahiru clambered back to her feet slowly. As he watched her, Fakir sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're safe," he said finally. "Mytho won't attack."

Their entrance had drawn curious glances and whispers from across the ice. "I feel like I'm being stared at," Ahiru confided.

"If you enter looking like this, of course people are going to look at you," Fakir muttered. Ahiru blinked, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult, and Fakir deliberately avoided her gaze. He quickly coughed and continued, "People don't know who you are, but they do know me. They're wondering about your identity."

"Can I make up a fake name? Please?" Before Fakir could answer, a question surprised them both.

"And who is this young lady?" Someone exclaimed from behind them.

"Pleased to meet you," Ahiru said, as grandly as she could while the cold bit into her skin, "I'm...uh...Tutu."

How in the world had she managed to come up with such a stupid name? Fakir shot her a skeptical look, which she was sure to ignore.

"I haven't seen you before! Nice to meet you! I'm Freya," the blonde girl smiled, extending a hand primly. "And Fakir! It seems that you haven't told me about her!"

Lillie was watching from some distance away. Ahiru had arrived...on Fakir's arm? No, more like tightly clinging to Fakir's arm. This was the perfect opportunity! After Ahiru and Fakir had skated away and were conversing quietly, Lillie skated up to Freya. Luckily, Lillie already knew how to skate and could do so with little difficulty.

"Did you know those two are getting married next June? They're so shy about it! I couldn't believe it at first either!" Maybe Lillie had overdone it. But one look at Freya's ecstatic face, and she knew that she had pulled it off perfectly.

"They are?" Freya exclaimed. "What a surprise!"

"You should have been there when he proposed. It was just magical, even though she started choking on the diamond ring hidden in the s'more, and it turned out that she'd actually swallowed it, and then the two took a romantic trip to the emergency room," Lillie added in an excited whisper.

..."she swallowed the ring? And it was in a s'more?" Obviously, Freya was storing this tale in her mind to recount during later gossip.

"Yes!" Lillie clasped her hands together. "Poor girl, it was hidden in the s'more and she swallowed it whole without even noticing! She almost died, as a matter of fact, because of their love! And, guess what? All this happened in a library, where you're especially not supposed to bring food!" Lillie knew this was going a little far, but Freya's eyes widened in genuine surprise as Lillie continued. "Apparently they have a tradition of doing forbidden things in forbidden places..."

Freya's jaw went slack.

"...like eating food in a library, which is a big no-no. When she started choking, everyone looked up from their books, and then, well, it was just the most romantic proposal ever! You should help me spread the joyous news - it only happened a couple days ago!" Lillie laughed. "They have to know that the world supports their love, tragic and hilarious as it may be!"

Stage one of her plan: complete.

"Is that true?" Another two women were listening curiously.

"That's Fakir for you," she heard a whisper. "How come none of us knew when he was available?"

"It turns out he has a fiancée!"

"Was he that stupid enough to put a ring inside a s'more and expect her to not swallow it? And in a library?"

"For some reason, I can almost visualize it." Turning back, Lillie saw that a small crowd had gathered around them already, curiously listening to her every word.

"Oh, it's all true!" Lillie said, looking off into the air dramatically as she gestured at Ahiru and Fakir, who were talking in hushed tones. "And you know what? They like to pretend they aren't engaged, those two. But, when they're around just each other, they have the most adorable pet names to ever exist!"

"Like what?" A nearby skater asked curiously.

"Ah..." Lillie thought quickly. "Ah, um, strawberry-marshmallow-honeycakes!" Inwardly, she groaned. What idiots would believe that?

Apparently, the same people who believed the choking-on-an-engagement-ring-hidden-in-a-s'more-i n-the-middle-of-a-library story. Which was to say, everyone.