~Hello and Good afternoon everyone. First, I want to apologize for the long delay. What had started out as a simple writer's block soon became a long hold as I've been juggling getting back into my routine of school and work along with handling some personal issues. I've been updating other stories due to a better idea flow in my head and progression of the plot. Now having said all that, I once again say thank you all for your patience and continued support for my story; of which I will be continuing.
Now with that said, this chapter does have a form of indulgence to it in that, I highly recommend listening to "Firebird Suite" from the brilliant Disney film Fantasia 2000 if you want to get a feel for the music that Roxas enjoys this chapter, and that this song is a piece where words don't give it any justice for its beauty. Thank you all again for your support and patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.~
As Roxas fluffs up the pillow of his bed, he growls as a cold chill tickles his legs. "Would you please close the door, I'm trying to keep warm here." he says to Maleek, the Captain of the Guard is standing out on the balcony, his blonde hair contracting with the jet black sky.
He's been standing out there, brooding ever since the disastrous dinner concluded. Already the glass of the windows have a light layer of frost on it, indicating snowfall is to be very soon. Another breeze wafts Maleek's hair, the captain turning towards the assassin. "I still could sack that son-of-a-bitch for what he said to you." He grumbles.
Roxas looks to him, a small smile on his face. "It's alright, Maleek."
"No, it's not alright," the captain says as he walks back inside, finally closing the door behind him. Sighing with relief, Roxas allows the heat of the room to envelope all the cold spots. "He had no right to say that to you, especially if you were honest with him."
"He was also upset, Maleek, you have to understand that." As Maleek rounds the bed to what is now proclaimed his side, Roxas looks to the captain, seeing him dressed in a pale mint-green tunic and night pants is so – tempting. Especially when bits of his tattoo curl out from underneath.
"Still, that doesn't mean he should be allowed to say that to you."
"You could tell he regretted it."
"Only after he saw me and the twins." Maleek winks.
Roxas chuckles as Maleek flops onto the bed throwing his arm over his eyes. Roxas crawls in after him, snuggling his feet underneath the thick down comforter, accompanied by a thick wool blanket. Cocooned in the canopy encasing his bed, Roxas smiles as he presses himself against Maleek's warm, muscled body.
Most of his room by now is dark, sconces on the wall have been dimmed down to a relaxing glow, and then there is a three-pronged candelabrum left on Roxas' nightstand. After the rest of the group left, after ensuring the twins that he didn't want them to skin Axel alive, Roxas and Maleek returned to his chambers where Roxas openly let himself cry. Maleek didn't say anything, simply rubbing Roxas' back, kissing his cheek and fetching him multiple tissues.
Despite himself, Roxas let himself fall apart, a habit he is starting to – and letting himself – continue. He learned long before that keeping things bottled up can lead to horrible decisions and outcomes.
Maleek's arm wraps around Roxas and pulls him closer. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asks Roxas while kissing his forehead.
"I'll be fine. Though, it is abnormal to think that they're back in my life again. It's like I haven't grown used to it."
"Do you know how long they're in Valendia? I know Reno said they traveled here all the way from Ivalice."
Roxas shrugs. "Knowing Reno, he probably has a home in the city somewhere. It shouldn't be too hard to find as he gave me the address."
"I'm sure Sora will be happy to see you." Maleek smiles.
Roxas does too. "I think so too. I didn't know how much I missed him until now." He angles his head to stare up at the captain. "Will you be attending the ball?"
"Of course I will. I'll be arriving with The Thirteen, we're going to be on guard duty."
Roxas smiles deviously. "Sucks to be you."
Maleek retaliates by pinching Roxas' nose until the assassin has to wiggle his way free. As he giggles, Maleek kisses his forehead and tucks a few strands of hair behind his ears. "Are you excited for the party?" Maleek asks.
"Honestly, I think I am. It's been a while since I've attended a party where I'm not going to kill someone." He smiles. "The only other time was at my birthday party."
A small weight settles on Roxas' think, remembering the ball his mother had thrown him for his birthday, back when she was pretending to care. But even after her psychotic nature was exposed, it would be a lie if Roxas said he didn't enjoy himself, nor that it was one of the greatest parties he had ever attended in his life. The only hindrance will be the attire that the Queen has chosen for him.
He knew Maleek will object the moment he sees it, but at the same time, Roxas is more than excited to see his expression towards Roxas when he emerges all powdered and plucked up.
The assassin smiles to himself as he kisses Maleek's neck. Maleek's arms wrap tighter around him his breath tickling Roxas' scalp. "I'm excited for you. Just be sure to watch yourself."
"I will. I can handle my liquor."
"That'll be interesting for me to find out." Maleek grins. "I've been meaning to see where your tolerance is."
"Quite scandalous, Captain Maleek."
Roxas chirps as he feels Maleek pinch his bum, and his teeth descend upon his neck. Roxas bites his lip, groaning with pleasure. When Maleek starts to nibble on his ear, Roxas' toes curl and he giggles from the tickling of Maleek's skilled tongue.
He leans back and kisses Maleek's lips. Burrowing himself into Maleek's solid chest, Roxas easily finds sleep. The next morning, Maleek was gone, but he had let Roxas sleep in, mostly because he had a night of partying to enjoy.
But Roxas groans as he rolls over to feel the coldness of the mattress and sheets beneath him. But a smile crawls across his lips as he can still smell Maleek on the sheets. Blinking his eyes open, he can feel the sunlight warm his face and his mood increases as she sits up and stretches. He sighs and giggles childishly as he hops out of bed and skips his way over to the bathing chamber.
He's about to settle when there's a knock at the door and Roxas goes over, pulling open the large marble door to find a trio of servants readied with his clothes and powders and scrubs and colognes. Roxas chuckles as he lets them in and he allows one of the servants to lead him back towards the bathroom.
While they set up, he enjoys the thick banquet of a breakfast, belching loudly. After dismissing the sounds of disgust and small giggles of the servants, Roxas relaxes and lets himself be pampered. If he had to admit it to himself, perhaps he always had a heart for luxury – it just took living in a castle to realize it.
In the hours that pass, Roxas is all set and dressed in the outfit that the Queen had picked, and almost immediately, his mood shifts. It's nothing bad really, he's defiantly one to show off for people. And this attire is definitely about to get attention, it's just a little, feminine.
First off, everything is skintight: the skirt and the pants and the boots. He knew the scarlet tunic is a little scandalous. And he knew it was definitely not appropriate for winter, given how low the front dips, and how much lower the back goes with a somewhat revealing mesh of black lace. Its fitting sleeves enhance the shape and contour of his muscles, same for the grey pants and the freshly polished black boots.
As he peers at himself in the mirror, he bites his lip and feels, despite himself, self-conscious. Attached to his shoulders by gold clasps is a long cape where the color of the shirt travels down and smoothly across the floor. But still, it swoops low to reveal the black lace back. The collar is lined with gold that travels down along the hemline of the shirt, and a simple leather belt is around his waist.
Maleek will probably love and hate how low both the front and back go, especially with the black lace. At least it hides his hideous back scars. The front is low and open enough to reveal his collarbone and the middle area of his chest close to the beginning of his newly acquired abs.
Taking a deep breath, Roxas thanks the servants and makes his way downstairs. Guards and servants alike watch him, Roxas feeling his cheeks warm as he spots a couple of councilmen he's come to recognize, raise their eyebrows at him.
Making it downstairs, he finds the Queen already dressed and ready. Maleek and The Thirteen are posted, armored to the teeth and ready for departure. Hopefully they weren't waiting too long. Roxas sighs in relief as he becomes positive eyes will be on the Queen tonight from her dress. Though he has to admit, it's rather cute that they match.
The Queen of Valendia looks stunning in a red slim-fitting dress. Crystals and stones in various cuts and sizes are artfully embroidered and draped to resemble chokers and necklaces on the nude neckline of the backless matte gown complete with high slit on the leg and a slight train. Silver cuff bracelets engulf her wrists, multiple rings on her fingers.
Next to her is Prince Kiros and more excitement fills Roxas as he descends the stairs, catching the Queen's attention. She smiles and gasps, Kiros following her gaze and his eyebrows rise high. All heads turn and Roxas simply keeps a smile.
"Hello to you, too." he says.
"Roxas, you look incredible." The queen smiles as she approaches him with open arms and brushes kisses against his cheek.
"You're not wearing that." Maleek's voice breaks through. Everyone turns to find his face serious, but Edge is chuckling slightly.
A guard approaches with a cloak, and Roxas gives another coy smile. "According the Queen, I am."
As he makes his way into of his cloak, he makes sure to angle his back away from the crowd – so they can get an eyeful of the exquisite black lace that covers the open back (and mostly covers his scars from the mines). He feels the eyes of the servants on him, too, but pretends not to notice.
The ebony black of his cloak made the red stand out even more as he passes others in the hall, keeping his coy smile intact.
"Forgive me for my outburst, my Lady," Maleek says as he bows to Rydia. "But don't you think it's a little inappropriate for a ball?"
"I think it's fine." She says without hesitation. "It'll defiantly separate him from the rest of the crowd. And besides, I want everyone to know he's with me."
As Queen Rydia speaks, Kiros comes up to Roxas and smiles, running a hand along the assassin's shoulders, and carefully across his back. When he meets Roxas' front again, he simply shakes his head. "At least it still separates you from the common rabble." He says in Galtea.
"I should hope so. I had doubts myself." Roxas chuckles.
"What made you change your mind?"
All Roxas has to do is smile mischievously and flick his eyes towards Maleek who is since rolling his eyes and ruffling his hair after the Queen waves her hand off him ending their discussion. Kiros chuckles and shakes his head once more. "I never assumed you for the torturous type."
Roxas shrugs. "I'm an assassin. It's what I do. And might I say you look wonderful as well."
"Thank you my friend." Kiros is dressed in a lovely attire of opal, the shirt's long translucent sleeves bloom out loosely as they pass his elbow. It's a relatively clear outfit, free of sequence and jewels – and if Roxas had to admit, the simplicity of it made Kiros look even more stunning as his gold and beaded jewelry draw attention to his elegant neck, his toned arms and thin waist with a brown leather belt. Its long, chiffon pleated pants puddles at his feet.
"You look good, Roxas." Edge finally says, approaching Kiros and Roxas.
"Thanks." Roxas shrugs.
"Had I known red was your color, I would've given you a tunic long before." Vincent says. Roxas turns and manages to find the scrunch in his cheeks, indicating he was smiling. "But the last thing I need is you looking better than me."
Roxas chuckles and looks to Cecil and Kain. "I feel bad that you all don't get to enjoy the party."
The twins shrug. "We've had our fun." Cecil says. "I actually prefer to watch the guests and rather, enjoy the atmosphere of the party."
"So, I never asked, where will the party be held?" Roxas asks as he watches the Queen ease herself into a white fur cloak.
"It's at Kadaj's manor, but it's set in the garden." She smiles.
"Garden? It must be twenty degrees outside."
"Oh, you haven't seen Kadaj's garden. It's like a whole other world. It's where he likes to keep a majority of his parties." The Queen adjusts her white gloves and then suddenly claps her hands. "Alright, come everyone. We have a party to enjoy."
Roxas smiles as he watches the members of The Thirteen shift into their animal forms, taking notice of a quick wink from Edge before he shifts into the falcon and flies out the door. Cecil and Kain follow, Seymour slithering out of the doors, and Kuja, Laguna and Vincent follow.
Roxas looks to Maleek, still a stern expression on his face. Roxas approaches him and takes his hands, leaning close to his ear, and dropping his voice. "While you might not like it now, just imagine what it'll be like when you take it off."
Maleek purrs, and Roxas can feel Maleek's hands squeeze his own. Probably some form of a way to stop himself from groping Roxas. "Let's hope you still have enough energy by the end of the night."
With that, Roxas spares him a quick kiss and hurries to the Queen's side, letting her link her arm with his. Hopping in the gloriously gold and white carriage, with a snap of the reins, they are off.
The trip would've taken them several hours, had it not been for Seymour and his powers of the arcane to teleport them directly to The Greylands. Then it was a simple hour ride to the castle. The village was incredibly different from that of the Royal City, for here the buildings had a mixture of stone and wood, the roofs a dark blue color. The stone and darkness would've made the town seem ominous, but really, it's as lively as the Royal City.
Kadaj's manor comes into view, and it is basically a miniature castle with its towers and spires and expanse of property. The carriage parks in the front, and footmen greet the Queen as she emerges.
It has a classical beach front elegance in an unrivalled position within the grounds of lush green grass. A large imposing entrance leads to the formal sitting room which in turn flows outside to large comfortable terraces all with breathtaking mountainous views. Incredible handmade kitchen with separate seating area, very much gives one a feeling of being in a family home.
An elegant marble staircase leads up to the bedrooms, including a master suite with his and hers bathrooms with dressing rooms. On the lower level is a spa area with huge indoor pool and training area plus home music room. The immaculate gardens feature a large heated pool, split level flower garden area and chiringuito with a large bonfire pit. A truly unique property built to the highest of standards.
Roxas links arms with the Queen and walk forth, following the guests in front of them. Already Roxas can hear the magnificent music and sounds of chatter, The Thirteen following close behind them; Edge and Vincent are already nowhere to be seen.
The trip to the garden was enough to make Roxas jubilant as decorative banners swopped across from lamppost to lamppost, the smell of delicious foods and exotic perfumes filled the air. Children are running with each other, carrying sticks that are spewing with sparks. The trunks of trees are wrapped with ribbons of red, yellow and orange. People are dressed elegantly and eventfully as they walk arm in arm with friends or lovers.
The greenhouse garden is enormous. A thick red-velvet curtain divides the entrance, and already Roxas can see streams of light breaking through the giant glass-domed ceiling, vines crawling along all of its sides and see the shadows of the already hundreds of party goers.
One of the Queen's acquaintances stops her to say hello. Roxas could tell Rydia didn't want to chat, but needing to uphold the royal reputation she asks him to head inside. Roxas nods and strode through ahead with the rest of the Thirteen.
Inside, his breath is taken right out of his lungs. The difference in temperature is so sudden and his cheeks are burning from the cold, sweat already on the back of his neck.
There are jugglers and fire-eaters, vendors selling wares and tents stripped of red and gold populating the spots. The dance girls, whose billowing skirts are sequenced in tendrils of vines, and then small huddles of musicians each playing their own cheerful number that has couples and children in merry gatherings. There are large alcoves lining the walls for privacy, occupied by dignitaries and people who would rather be somewhere else.
Roxas smiles widely as a servant girl comes up and asks to take his cloak, with a nod and a polite thank you, Roxas removes his cloak, and purposely angles himself so that she can see the black lace across his back. Kiros comes up to his side and links their arms. Beautiful servant girls hand him and Kiros glasses of sparkling wine, as the two move deeper.
Angling his head around, Roxas can already see The Thirteen taking their positions around the ballroom, and a majority of the women at the party already swopping in for conversation. Their eyes follow Roxas and Kiros as well, with Roxas' red and Kiros' opal, they are quite the opposite, and there is still the matter than Kiros is the Prince of Galtea. Whispers follow him as easily as the eyes.
Gazing around, Roxas can hardly believe they are in a greenhouse, it even as a stage and an orchestra pit! Excitement bubbles in his chest as he thinks of the performance that will happen. As of now, the stage only has a smaller, simpler band playing tunes for background effect.
"This is astonishing." Kiros says in Galtea.
Roxas looks to him and smiles. "I have to admit, it might be the best I've seen."
Kiros bursts into laughter. "You must be joking. You've seen parties at the castle, and all across Kingdom Hearts. How can this greenhouse be the best?"
"Probably because I'm not here to kill anyone . . . at least, I hope." Roxas says. While he wishes to enjoy himself, he's taken the liberty of packing weapons in his boots, on his sleeves, and hiding a few slim daggers in his belt. He prays to the gods he won't have to use it.
He still hasn't seen Duke Kadaj yet, and frankly he's quite happy about it. What is he supposed to say to him? Does he know who Roxas really is? Has Sephiroth been telling his siblings about Roxas? It's rather nerve-wrecking, yet stupid. He's met the King of Valendia, his siblings should be a snap.
Kiros and Roxas stop at one of the many tables lined with food, an elegant and detailed carved ice sculpture upon every one of them, along with fountains flowing chocolate. As Roxas pokes a toothpick into a karkelec, he hears heels coming up behind him. He turns in time to find Queen Rydia. She sighs and dramatically tosses her hair over her shoulders.
Roxas chuckles. "Pleasant conversation?"
"Oh my god that woman is so talkative. I love her, she is sweet, but now I feel like I need a nap."
"Would you like something to eat? I can fix you a plate." Roxas offers.
"Oh no, thank you youngling. My food intake is rather strict, even if I'm eating for two." She says bashfully as she pats her stomach.
Roxas smiles. "I'm so happy for you. So how far along are you?"
"I'm at least twelve weeks, going to be thirteen. I wanted to delay telling everyone until it was noticeable. Oh, I'm so excited to see what Kadaj thinks. He's going to be an uncle!" she claps rapidly.
Kiros comes up behind them with a plate filled with prawn fish. "What gender do you hope for?" he asks after taking a bite of the tail.
"Oh, at this point, I'm wonderfully blessed with anything. I still wish I could've adopted, but at least the gods have finally found me worthy of a child of my own." She smiles.
With his clean hand, Kiros steps forward and sets his hand on the Queen's stomach. Perhaps that's why she wanted to wear such a fitted dress. Kiros rubs his hands up and down and smiles. "This child is going to be blessed, My Lady. I can sense wonders awaiting you."
"Thank you Kiros." Her eyes flick over his shoulder and they widen. "Oh!" she says brightly. "There's Kadaj. Come Roxas, let's go and say hello!"
Without waiting for him to answer, or for him to finish drinking his glass, Queen Rydia takes Roxas' arm, nearly spilling the champagne on the floor. Roxas' nerves suddenly spike as he looks in the direction of where the Queen is heading. It's a larger alcove than the others, with a thin lace curtain and an upholstered, cushioned bench. Seated there is Kadaj with a couple of beautiful woman around him. Mood candles are behind him, setting his silver hair and alabaster skin gleam ethereally.
Roxas' heels slightly dig into the floor, and the Queen only looks to him and smiles gently. "Don't worry, Roxas." She whispers. "You'll be fine. Sephiroth has talked about you plenty to them."
"So they all know everything?"
"Yes, they do."
"Even my father and mother?"
Rydia nods. "And frankly I think that they admire you for it. For what you endured."
"You make it sound as if I'm a hero. I did what I had to do to survive."
"Of course, and that's what makes you a hero. Not many survive like you."
Roxas merely shakes his head, but quickly gathers himself as they come up the steps to the alcove. Kadaj notices them immediately and smiles. He turns to the women and Roxas can hear him asking them to excuse them. The ladies coyly whine but rise from their seats, their glittering gowns trailing behind them. They eye Roxas, but the assassin keeps his head forward, purposely adjusting his shoulders so that. He grins slyly.
"Rydia!" Kadaj's voice suddenly booms. So sudden that Roxas flinches.
He looks and finds the Queen squealing in joy as the two embrace one another. Roxas swallows thickly as he gazes at Kadaj's eyes while the Queen speaks with him.
Wow . . . they were his eyes. A stunning turquoise blue with a ring of gold around the pupil. Kadaj had his eyes, but with Sephiroth's hair and body, and facial features.
Kadaj resembles Sephiroth to a great degree and is described by Vincent Valentine as a "larval" form of Sephiroth. Kadaj is wearing black leather clothing with gauntlets and a coat, which he keeps zipped up. The image of a single wing is sewn on the back of his coat as an allusion to Sephiroth.
He has shoulder-length silver hair that partially covers his face and green cat-like eyes. Across his back is a blade of epic proportions, the blade he had used to drive Kerwon's forces from Valendia long ago. Roxas knew the name of that blade: Souba, a katana with two parallel blades that he carries in its proud sheath.
Roxas was so busy staring that he almost missed it when the Queen introduced Kadaj to him. Roxas blinks and clears his throat. He sees Kadaj looking at him, and Roxas immediately bows. He hears the male chuckle and Roxas lifts to see him holding out his hand. He takes it and gives a firm handshake.
"It is good to finally put a face to Kingdom Heart's Assassin." Kadaj smiles. Roxas swallows slightly when he sees the sharpened canines of Kadaj's smile.
"Thank you, Your Grace." Roxas nods his head. "I am honored to meet you as well."
"Along with a little intimidated, it would seem." Kadaj chuckle. Roxas feels his cheeks flush as he thinks of his fear leeching off of him. Embarrassed, he clears his throat. "I won't deny, I expected more."
"Spending time in Gollund Mines isn't exactly good for a person's health." Roxas snaps, biting the inside of his cheek with mere regret.
But Kadaj simply nods. "My apologies. Her Highness Rydia has told me a lot about you and your trials. At least of what you've endured so far. It does seem like I'm the one who should be honored to be in your presence."
"Thank you, but there's nothing really special about me, I assure you Your Grace." Roxas says with a slight bow. "I'm nothing more than an assassin with powers."
"Come now," Kadaj chuckles. "At least give your blood some credit. It's probably what kept you alive all those years, and it's probably what made you the bet."
"I was the best because of my skill. My father trained me to not be so reliant on my elven instincts."
"I'm not denying that. You have your skills, but when you use your powers, you can't tell me that you don't feel stronger. Better."
"I did. I still do." Roxas gives him his best shy smile. Kadaj motions Roxas to join him on the cushioned seat in the alcove and Roxas wordlessly joins him as he continues. "And it's the reason why I was so afraid of it."
"Well when you're exposed to such a thing like your mother, you can't blame yourself for that." Kadaj assures. Roxas merely shakes his head while Kadaj accepts a glass of red wine from a serving girl. Queen Rydia sits on the other side of Kadaj, the Elven Duke being sectioned in the middle.
"Everyone keeps telling me that."
"Then why don't you listen? Your instincts had been sheltered away for so long that it's common you can't control it. I remember I gave my family more trouble than Yazoo after my first turning." Kadaj swirls the wine around in the glass, already half empty. "I almost envy you." Kadaj's voice suddenly drops low. It grows soft and husky. Nearly seductive. "The first time is always, intense."
"I still don't understand why I could barely fight off my mother." Roxas growls. "All she did was use a whistle. How was that even possible? How could a simple whistle make my mind scatter like flies?"
Kadaj takes another long, delicate sip of his glass, Roxas nodding thanks to the serving girl when she gives him his own glass. "As much as many will deny, our instincts are similar to that of animals. It was shown in a study that Elves are receptive to higher sounds. Much like those animals, with high sounds, we lose all sense of where we are and who we are. The sound blurs everything, making it difficult to make even the slightest decision. So when get orders from someone, it's almost as if we trust anyone."
Roxas looks to Kadaj and finds his eyes distant. A thousand leagues away. A chill runs down Roxas' spine. "It's happened to you?"
"While I was in battle with my brothers. It took both Loz and Yazoo to wear me out. The battle went on for . . . I cannot say. The Dark Lord had found out about our weakness to sounds and took full advantage, I assure you. All I remember was dropping to the ground with my brothers, a cold sweat coating our bodies, and both our weapons broken."
"A stand still?"
"It wasn't until Sephiroth came in from behind and cleared my mind did I survive. He then healed our brothers and we regrouped at the castle. I remember it was all dark. Just blackness all around me."
Roxas swallows as he remembers being trapped in his own mind. There was nothing. Just an endless abyss that was worse than Hell itself. Looking down at his glass of red wine, Roxas almost gags as it resembles the blood that he could feel coating his arms when he finally came to. Choking back a cough, Roxas sets the glass aside.
"I heard voices, but nothing happened until Sephiroth stopped me. It was like, a beam of light breaking through my mind. Breaking through that thick veil that shrouded my better judgment. I am forever in my brother's debt for it."
"Did you ever see anyone?" Roxas asks quietly. Queen Rydia has now taken up conversation with another noble who came over after seeing her crown and elegant attire.
"I did not." Kadaj turns to Roxas, their eyes meeting one another, and a chill running down Roxas' spine again. It was like being watched by a scorpion. All sharp angles, intriguing yet fearful. "I assume you did?"
"More than that. I saw the ones I loved. The ones that are . . . gone." Roxas says, his eyes watering at remembering Demyx and Ventus. Two beautiful souls that filled his world with a light that is now long forgotten. A light that is now so foreign, even with his amounts of happiness. Even with Maleek, even with things having settled with Axel and the crew, there is still something missing, that only Ventus and Demyx could replace. Demyx gave a whole new life to music and joy and flamboyancy, and Ventus . . .
Nothing can ever compare to what Ventus had gifted Roxas with. Roxas still misses him more than anyone can ever imagine. He was Roxas' first friend, and for some reason, Ventus accepted him. Maybe because he saw something in Roxas that was worthwhile.
If only he could find that thing.
Roxas looks down at his palm, at the long scar that traces across it. A memoire of his vow, his promise to Ventus to never kill in the name of darkness again.
Without him, something is still missing. There is a void that Roxas is starting to worry that can never be filled. He can carry on, but the thought still angers him that he is living his life without Ventus. He is lost, and all paths lead straight back to him.
How ridiculous. How ridiculous it is that his heart still beats and Ventus' does not. There are still days Roxas longs to be like him. To be with him. Just lie cold in the ground, in silent bliss, be right beside him forevermore.
A once beautiful boy now buried in a cold earth.
'You are lucky." Kadaj's voice speaks. Roxas looks to him unaware that he had dropped his gaze. Kadaj's eyes are warm, the ring of gold brewing like embers in a hearth. "I've never heard of such a thing. It is astonishing."
Roxas gives a sad smile. "That's probably the only benefit of the entire situation."
"You heart still grieves. I understand." Kadaj lifts his hand and sets it on Roxas' chest. The assassin stiffens, wanting to lean away, but he lets the Grand Duke continue speaking. "It still beats strong, even through years of abuse. I can feel your power coursing through you. Warming you, forging you." Roxas sits still, transfixed by Kadaj's eyes. "Your heart refuses to stop beating, not matter what thoughts travel through you. Your spirit is still strong. And that is why I admire you. That is why you should be proud of yourself."
Roxas merely shakes his head. "I wish I could."
"You will." Kadaj smiles. He tickles Roxas' chin and pats his shoulder. He takes a deep inhale through his nose sighs. "Now, that was certainly a deep topic to discuss for our first meeting, I apologize."
Kadaj rises from his seat and ruffles his hair. Roxas assures him it is fine, and takes Kadaj's hand without question when it extends out to him.
"I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss such matters. You have come to have a good time, and a good time we shall!" he says brightly. Roxas can't help but smile at the enthusiasm. "Come now, the night is still young!"
"Oh!" Queen Rydia chimes. "The orchestra is getting ready to play!"
Roxas turns his head and sure enough, the musicians are starting to unpack their instruments. Women and men dressed in black, the sheen of their instruments winking in the light. Roxas goes still as the gold curtain draws back, and at the center of the stage is a gorgeous and well-polished grand piano.
"Her Highness told me you played." Kadaj says, Roxas looking to him with his mouth still slightly agape in awe. The Duke chuckles. "Would you like to play?"
Roxas' cheeks flush. "Really?" Kadaj chuckles more when he hears the excitement in Roxas' tone. Kiros comes up behind them, brushing Roxas' arm and smiling. Roxas looks to him and smiles.
"Please, help yourself. I'm sure you can squeeze in one song before the show starts." Kadaj insists. Roxas looks to the Grand Duke with a smile that betrays his control, and then Kiros takes his hand and the two of them scurry up the stage. Roxas approaches the piano and smiles, his fingers brushing along the ivory keys. He pulls out the bench and takes a seat. His hands set atop the keys.
A trickle of notes. And then a slow melody of higher keys. Then there's a lower note, deep and so full of sorrow and anger.
Seated in profile at a grand piano, his hands are trailing back and forth over the keys. The music picks up once more, the pattern of trickling notes matching the movements of the beauty before him. His golden hair is shining in the light of the chandeliers, his bangs falling over his downturned face, concealing his features from view as he plays.
His hands, nimble and long-fingered, seemed to float over the piano keys. And yet the way he moves, jerky and quick between smooth slow-motion moments.
Rocking forward and back ever so slightly as he plays, he hums delicately with a wispy and ethereal voice, one infused with control, less like an angel's and more like that of a ghost, heartrending and full of mystery. An interlude of high notes trickled forth in a complicated pattern, accented by a few well-placed chords from the instrument's lower spectrum. This mixture of dark and light, high and low, hope and despairs, worked is hypnotic effect on the entirety of the garden, as though they are small children listening to an intricate story.
Over in the shadows, Maleek slowly emerges as he watches Roxas and the prince make the instrument come to life. There's a rather form of difference with playing an instrument, Roxas had once told him. Roxas had said that with musicians, there are those who play, and those who bring the instrument to life. He had explained it using the piano – on how, with certina musicians, hearing the sounds that come from the piano, it doesn't even seem like the person is playing. Really the piano has its own form of a personality, and is singing with its own voice.
It didn't make sense to Maleek, and Roxas said it didn't have to, and left it at that.
He could immediately tell that Roxas' imagination is controlling his hands as they danced across the white and black key. No doubt a tribute to those rebels. He let his emotions fuel the notes, the song as he plays. The unrelenting sorrow he feels, the pain, the agony. He lets it course through his body, his veins as he closes his eyes. Echoes – shreds of memories arising out of the void of his mind his rooms are so silent that the music seems obtrusive.
Leaning against the towering pillar, Maleek stands, utterly transfixed. He never would've thought he would see a man pouring his secrets into a pianoforte. The notes burst from Roxas' hand, playing upon the flats and sharps. It was so sad, the tune and yet somehow befitting not only those who have gone, but also to himself somehow.
He hoped Roxas knew everyone is watching, and if not, he doesn't really know how to approach the situation. If he goes and makes himself known, Roxas will stop; but if he waits until Roxas is done – if he ever gets done –then Roxas will have Maleek's head for not saying anything. Both result in embarrassment for his. He can't seem to tear his eyes away from Roxas. It all seem too human for Kingdom Heart's Assassin.
Here, he's not a killer. Merely a man who is letting his emotions flow forth in a beautiful display of music.
Maleek watches as Kiros steps closer to the bench, his hand still folded in front of him. Roxas doesn't move, he doesn't open his eyes. With all of his year of assassinating experience, Maleek is surprised that the prince manages to sit down on the bench with him.
And then he sees the small streaks of tears down Roxas' cheeks. Maleek's cheeks feel warm before he even knew he was crying. Quickly, Maleek clears his throat and wipes them away before anyone can see.
Roxas feels Kiros lean into him, their arms pressed together. He looks to the assassin, and slowly he opens his eyes, angling his heads towards him, and yet Roxas' fingers still play flawlessly.
Roxas' eyes are slightly red as is his nose. Kiros wipes one of Roxas' cheeks with his thumb. Slowly, Roxas' hands slow, tickling the keys ever so gently as they glide down the lower spectrum and end with a soft touch of a chord. Then his fingers slide off the keys and into his lap, their echo reverberating through the chamber.
Applause. Roxas' head turns towards the garden and sees a majority of the crowd has since stopped what they were doing to watch him. Even some of the musicians have tears in their own eyes, the music having more than mere emotion to them. It had meaning – they knew what that kind of loss was, what that kind of agony, anger and sorrow. While his cheeks flush red, Roxas adores the clapping. He stands with Kiros and takes a bow. Then the prince escorts them off stage and down the three steps towards Kadaj.
"I apologize for the disturbance." Roxas says, struggling to keep from giggling as he says is. Behind Kadaj, the Queen is wiping her eyes and fanning her face.
"Not at all. In fact, it was wonderful to watch. You pay almost as well as you kill."
"I hope to be even better." Roxas bashfully smiles.
"Come, it's nearly time for the show."
Roxas and Kiros follow Kadaj and Rydia as they are led under a mezzanine and through a small door and up a staircase. A couple of servant boys bow and part the thick crimson curtain and Roxas strode through and takes a seat closest to the stage.
As he sets his glass of wine on the armrest, he is still so stunned Kadaj granted them had such a wondrous seat. Then again, this was Queen Rydia.
Their private box was on the side of the cavernous hall, near enough to the center so that he has an unobstructed view of the sage and the orchestra pit. He feels like he is ten years old again, sitting on his uncle's knee as he watches the musicians prep their instruments and walk back and forth handing out the sheets of music.
Kiros sits next to him, peering over the ledge in wonder. Roxas observes the floor below, taking in the glittering jewels, the silk dresses, the golden glow of the sparkling wine in flute glasses, the rumbling and murmuring of the crowd. If there was any other place where he felt most at home, if there was a place where he felt happiest, it is here, in a garden, with the red velvet cushions and the glass chandeliers and the gilded dome ceiling high, high above.
Somewhere in the garden, a gong sounds, and people hurry to their seats, quickly brushing kisses with each other and trying not to spill their glasses. The chandeliers are hauled upwards into the dome and dimmed, and the crowd quiets to hear the opening notes as the orchestra begins to play. A world of shadows and mist. A world where creatures and myths dwell in the dark movements before dawn.
Roxas sets a hand on his chest as the piano player emerges from behind the curtains.
She is a lovely woman, set in her early thirties. She wears a lovely ice-blue dress that's off the shoulder with a large slit going up her right leg. She bows her head, her golden curls falling over her shoulder. A glittering headband pulling back her bangs.
The moment she sits down in the chair, the moment her foot sets on the petal, the moment her fingers set over the white keys, everything Roxas knew and everything he was fades away to nothing.
The music annihilates him.
There are not dancers, not even actors. It's just the pianist and the orchestra. And the story it tells is certainly lovely. By the gods – the music.
Has there ever been anything more beautiful, more exquisitely painful? Roxas clenches the arms of his seat, his nails digging into the velvet. His heart thundered with the pounding of the magnificent drum as the music hurtles towards its finale, sweeping him away in a flood.
He can practically see the picture and story before him. Axes flash, broad swords swing. The piercing ring of armor. Horses running with their riders wielding polished shields. The sounds of a horn and calling of the battle cry.
With each beat of the drum, each trill of the flute, and blare of the horn, he feels it all along his skin, along his bones. The instruments quiet down, his anticipation growing, and then they boom together in a clash of cymbals, Roxas nearly jumping out of his eat. The music turns ominous, urgent, his feet feeling the need to flee. They drums and cymbals clang again.
The music breaks him apart and puts him back together, only to rend him asunder again and again. His eyes never leave the piano player, watching her hands move along the keys, so fast, so light and so nimble . . . a skill Roxas can only dream to attain. What he had played, this is nothing to what she could do.
And then the climax, the compilation of all the sounds he had loved best, amplified until they echo into eternity. As the notes swell, a gasp broke from him, setting the tears in his eyes spilling down her face. He doesn't care if Kiros saw.
Then everything drops to near silence, the flutes and clarinets holding a note, then carefully drifting along. Roxas is shaking as the picture becomes grey. There is nothing buy ash and the skeletal remains of bodies and trees. Everything was devoured.
A bassoon has its solo of tired and observing gaze. The stringed instruments flutter and hum. And then, a French horn takes up the familiar tune from the beginning, soft, tired, but still gentle.
With a wondrously agonizing build, and a glissando of the harp, the instruments pick up the tune, and soon the flutes and violins are in tune with one another, slowly, slowly building until the notes lift Roxas up from his seat. Then the pounding of the drums and goosebumps run along his skin. He gasps.
The drums burst with sound and Roxas suddenly sees a tree sprout from the earth. Another beat, another trunk sprouts. The wondrous rattling of a triangle. The music is now full of excitement, happiness, jubilance – freedom.
Life. Death. And Rebirth.
Then, silence.
The silence was the worst thing he'd ever heard. The silence brings back everything around him. Applause erupts, and he is on his feet, crying still as he claps until his hands ache. He remains clapping even as Kiros stops and resumes sitting in his chair. The ovation continues for a while, with each section of the orchestra standing and bowing their heads, the pianist forever standing on stage, forever being showered with flowers. Roxas claps through it all, even as his tears dried, even as the crowd began shuffling out.
If it weren't for the seat, Roxas would've thrown every last coin to her if it meant she would play again.
Kiros doesn't abandon him, the prince merely sits in his seat patiently waiting, his eyes never leaving Roxas' face. But even after he finished clapping, Roxas remains staring towards the curtained stage, watching the orchestra begin to pack their instruments. Kiros is still there, awake and watching.
Reluctantly, but with excitement ruling him over, Roxas takes the prince's hand and he pulls Roxas to him. He spins Roxas in a tight circle, and quickly they exchange to different partners. The world blends into a mesh of chaos, color, and noise.
Roxas is thrown into revolution after revolution, almost swinging into another pair of dancers who scamper aside, laughing. With his instincts to learn quickly rising up, Roxas focuses hard on the beat of the clapping and the one-two steps he memorized by watching. He's swept into another spin.
This time he feels himself twirl effortlessly into the movements and gains a new partner as she rotates into the circle. He's picked up the dance. Now it's as if he's known the dance perfectly, even though he's only waltzed once in his life.
His feet follow through with the steps, and Roxas soon finds his lips expanding wider. He looks around and finds Kiros in the crowd. The prince turns to him and laughs, his white teeth gleaming, and they link arms, rotating into the next partner. Roxas' ribs do hurt, but only from the constant contraction of laughter. The satisfaction and . . . joy he has, reduces other feelings to dust.
The assassin and the prince spin again at the twiddle of a flute and Kiros laughs with such enthusiasm. Roxas then feels his chest heave again with exhausted laughter. With another link of arms, Roxas is spun again, this time with Maleek as his partner. They two spin so that his back faces Maleek and they link hands. Maleek's one hand on his waist as he guides the assassin into a promenade.
Giggling with drunken laughter, Roxas follows, his eyes trailing to the hand that rests on his side, Maleek's fingers cupping his ribs with a touch as light as a butterfly. Dancers churn around them like storm-tossed flowers, their heads held to either side as they whirl with abandonment. Spinning out one last time, Roxas is at the center of the dancing circle, no partner, but with others whose direction he follows. With the tempo infecting his veins, Roxas smiles and laughs and even flutters his eyes shut as he now effortlessly spins himself with the others, his feet tapping to the beat.
Then just as he opens his eyes, he reaches out a hand and it's grasped by, to his surprise, Maleek and just as they sweep into one another, but song ends with a final clasp of the instruments. The crowd cheers and claps, and the two girls stare at one another, their eyes locked. The smile on Maleek's face makes Roxas nearly want to laugh and embrace the man, but it slowly goes away as he looks around at the crowd slowly diminishing.
"The night is still young." Roxas excitedly skips a little and pulls the Captain with him.
Edge and Laguna have joined in the dancing. It actually surprised Maleek at how . . . wild Roxas is tonight. He knew Roxas adored parties but Roxas was usually a wallflower in that he was on missions, and kept his focus on only that. Roxas would indulge in the sips of wine and wondrous dancing, but nothing like this.
Whenever things got like this, Roxas usually set off to the side to simply watch the crowd and listen to how to music practically controlled the mass with invisible fingers.
Here, Roxas has completely let himself loose. It's almost . . . funny. Maleek pictures Roxas being strict and stiff with her Guild protocol, saying how he has to stay focused on his mission – and here, here Roxas is sampling sips of wine from a shared glass, his hair is unbound and wild and he moves in the rhythm of the other youths of Valendia. His hands are raised high with the rest, his body jumping and moving, flipping his hair around his head in a golden halo.
Roxas is high on adrenaline and freedom and the joys of being young.
Of course, that could have something to do with him being trapped in the mines. And that's another thing that tugs at Maleek's insides. Roxas was sent to Gollund Mines, the place itself practically being a death camp. He stayed there for a year, mining in the darkness, hearing the sounds of people's screams – both insane and of death, has seen blood splattered across the silver and the stones. And after six months, he tried to escape, resulting in the most gruesome deaths and carnage to be put into the books.
Maleek shivers at the thought of what Roxas could've looked like: covered in blood with an insane wildness in his eyes.
And yet, he can still laugh. He can still smile. He can still . . . live.
It's weird to think that Maleek was out in the open world, while Roxas was swallowed in darkness. Maleek dealt with drunken brawls while Roxas dealt with whippings. Maleek dealt with petty thievery while Roxas dealt with starvation.
But he is here now, and Maleek is not willing to let him go again.
Roxas dances and dances. The beautiful youths of the festival have gathered near the square where the musicians have officially posted themselves and the crowd gravitates towards them. Bottles of sparkling wine passed from hand to hand, mouth to mouth. Roxas swigged from all of them.
Around midnight, the music had pulled in almost all of the party goers; becoming a frenzied, sensual sound that had Roxas clapping his hands and stomping his feet in time. People stood scattered throughout the square dressed like peacocks and jesters, demons, and queens. There are feather masks and silk masks, glittering gowns with belled sleeves, top hats and long cloaks. All of his cares seemed to have dissipated through the combination of wine and atmosphere, lost in the throng of young people spinning and flinging and hopping about. The movement itself embodying wildness and recklessness and immortality of youth.
For once, he will drown himself into the feeling, the excitement, the craze of the night. The tiles of the gleaming mosaic beneath his feet sparkles like stars. Here, reality doesn't exist, it's just lights and music and the howls of ecstasy.
Sweat runs along every part of his body, but he tips his head back, arms upraised, content to bask in the music. Someone takes his hand and spins him fast enough his cloak blooms out like a skirt and everything blurs into streams of colors. The sensation sends sparks shooting through her. This is more than a party: it is a performance, an orgy, and a collaboration of cultures until they are unified into one single entity. Cultures have become one on this night.
The music shifts again, a riot of pounding drums and the staccato notes of the violins. Kiros is not too far from him, his bouncing braids shining like a beacon under the lights. Many of the festival goers stay either outside watching, or simply occupy other areas of the districts, leaving the dancefloor to the young and beautiful.
The clock tower overlooking the citizens and the city strikes three – three! How had so many hours pass? He knew his father would disapprove of him tonight. He had spent years training her to avoid being one of those youths, not to mention The Thirteen are still watching. And yet here he is now, drunk off his mind and sweating like a pig.
But the music is still infecting him, addicting as the adrenaline through him. Roxas takes a small stumble back, bumping his elbow into the woman behind him. The woman apologizes and continues dancing. Roxas jumps with the rest of the crowd, rotating in a circle, and then feels his feet falter.
He's about to fall, when a strong arm snaps out and his world takes a sickening spin. His body is pulled up and he finds a pair of sapphire eyes. Roxas can smell Maleek's body, he wasn't even sweaty in the slightest.
Roxas drunkenly giggles. "Hey handsome."
"Hey." Maleek says, his stern tone makes Roxas' stomach tighten. Or perhaps he's going to vomit. "I think we should go."
"What? Is the Queen ready?"
"No, but –"
"Then I'm not going." Roxas says, pushing himself off of Maleek and out of his grip. Roxas takes two steps away, but a couple of women linked by the hands cut in front of him. Unable to stop in time, he wobbles, and Maleek's arm is there again, around his waist.
"Roxas, you're drunk."
"So?"
"So, this is a dangerous. I think you need to sit down."
"No." Roxas says, trying to wriggle his way out of Maleek's grip. "I deserve to have fun tonight," he says, unable to stop the childish behavior as he complains. He stomps his foot. "I never get to have any fun! I'm always training and running and stabbing and jumping. I just want this one night to feel like a normal boy."
Maleek's expression softens and he see the grunt he does as his throat bobs. "Roxas . . ."
His soft tone made Roxas' anger stumble. Roxas swallows, his head spinning. He approaches him again and this time rests his head into Maleek's chest. He feels Maleek's arms wrap around him, feels his cheek rest against Roxas' hair. After a couple of deep breaths, he pulls away and simply stares at him.
Bringing up his hand, Roxas closes his eyes briefly as Maleek cups his cheek, caressing Roxas' cheekbone with his callus fingers. Roxas studies the captain's chiseled features, memorizes the texture of his five o'clock shadow, and imbeds the color of his eyes into mind, so that she won't forget a single ounce of him.
Then Maleek kisses Roxas' brow and gives him a smile, even though it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Alright," he says softly, his voice somehow understandable through the roar of the music. Roxas can barely hear his own thoughts. But seeing Maleek, embracing his handsomeness, Roxas feels a warmth feeling boil very, very low. Roxas leans close and connects their lips, the aroma of white wine still fresh on his tongue.
Maleek's lips move in that erotic motion, and Roxas is not fully content with ripping Maleek's clothes off.
Maleek leans back and jerks his chin towards the dancing crowd. "Go have fun."
With that, he turns and walks his way out of the crowd. Roxas stares after him. Then a hand claps on his shoulder and he turns to find Kiros smiling with cheeks red and strands of his hair plastered to his forehead.
The princess sighs and says brightly. "I'll be heading off. I'm afraid I don't feel well."
"Oh, well alright. Did you need anyone to escort you?" Roxas asks, his voice drowning out by the music.
"I think I will be fine. But thank you." Kiros chuckles.
"Where will you go?"
"Kadaj has offered me a temporary break in the manor. I shall see you but the end of the night." Kiros smiles.
With that, the prince leaves, the partygoers making a path before his wake is swallowed by the skirts of gowns.
Roxas smiles broadly as the girl pulls him into a circle of dancing girls, and the revelry takes hold of Roxas once again.
The stars seem extra bright tonight. Roxas doesn't know how long he's been dancing with the youths, bathing in the company of flowers – but it only feels like seconds when he hears a bloodcurdling scream.
A chill runs down his spine. The crowd parts. Women scream.
He turns to find Queen Rydia on the floor, blood trickling down her beautiful gown, and arrow in her womb.
