Even though we all know I love the romance stuff with Maka and Soul, I'm just loving this vibe from Maka and Black Star this time around. Is it unwilling friends? I'm not sure. It's developing in a fun direction.
Maka was sure that this was the strangest contest that she could ever imagine, but while it had all the other girls in a tizzy she didn't give it a second thought. It was simple enough and should be for any of these maidens who most likely had nothing better to do in their spare time than read through ancient texts. It should be her, the commoner, who was floundering.
Instead, she was wringing her hands together because she couldn't get rid of the feeling of his fingers. Maka hadn't worn her gloves because she had told herself there was no chance she was actually even going to speak to him, just watch from afar and try to gather information. Opening her big mouth was what she did instead, saying his name and all. To make matters worse, the curtain between them might as well have been made of gauze for the good it did blocking the contours of his hand over hers and all that did was bring back the memory in the woods, the way he'd interlaced their fingers before pulling her closer and-
"Lady Maka, it's your turn." The steward was leaning over now, his face too close for comfort with an annoyed air that told her this wasn't the first time she'd been summoned.
Maka nodded sharply, not offering the apology that wanted to tilt off her tongue. Ladies don't apologize to servants. They may think you're a commoner but don't act like one. Give them doubt. She stood and started after the man back to the great hall. It was hard enough to stomach the trumpets but the added blare again of her name grated on her. The Queen had a particular shade of disdain that she only seemed to save for Maka but looking at her son's face seemed to melt it all away.
She had expected some kind of coarseness or agitation leftover from her most likely irritating behavior the night before but it was his smile. Maka had to tell herself she was stone, impenetrable and resolute because it was threatening to make him look almost too much like the old Soul. She wanted to tear her eyes away because she was sure it was a mirage, just an old memory of the fifteen-year-old boy, but there was no chance. There was the promise she'd made Marie anyway, that she would never drop her gaze. A Queen doesn't do that.
Maka sat without ceremony or arranging her dress since that was one of the few places in this farce that she chose to put her foot down with Marie. Her gowns were still made to move in, never hindering in case she needed to unsheath one of her weapons since there was always the possibility that the castle was no better than the village. So far, the only danger seemed to be the way he looked at her, but Maka wasn't about to take any chances.
"Please recite the family lineages for our house." The Queen popped pertly from her lips, already congratulating herself on stumping the poor peasant fool.
Slowly, Maka inhaled before starting the long list that she had memorized by the time she could read. It was luck that Papa's way of showing love was reading with her and that his favorite had always been history, leading to bedtime stories that were mostly just a tangle of genealogy. Since this had been the greatest of all houses, of course this was the one that most often was run through, leaving her with the clear memory of his voice to guide her through each name.
Horror was dawning on the Queen's face while the smile that Maka so feared was growing on Soul's. He had started to lean forward in the chair abandoning yesterday's attempts at looking unbiased and leaving only his eyes for her. Maka met them, held them, happy that the words were so ingrained or else her voice most certainly would have warbled. As her mouth formed the final name, that of the man who was still staring so intently at her, Maka smiled, "Would you like the other houses, my Queen? I can recite most, if not all."
Before the Queen could even form words in the gape that was her mouth, Soul let out a sharp laugh, sending his mother's stern eyes to him. "Well, mother, I think it's worth hearing, don't you? Most of the other girls stumbled over the earlier lines and Lady Maka-"
"Fine," the Queen hissed.
"Please, continue," Soul even added a wave of his hand, making it hard for Maka to resist rolling her eyes.
And that bastard knows it, he's being… himself. Teasing like he used to. I can hear him now, with that snarky laugh and 'bookworm' rolling off his tongue. The lists were the only thing that saved her from any more of those thoughts.
She recited a few more houses, watching the Queen only kept awake by the thin veil of anger she couldn't help but wear. The next time she paused to take a breath, the Queen interjected. "That is quite enough."
"Thank you, my Queen, for the opportunity," Maka chimed pleasantly.
She risked another glance at him and watched with anxiety as that smile parted his lips again. "I'll escort Lady Maka out." Every muscle felt frozen as Soul's brought him to her, his elbow jutting out for her. Maka slipped a gloved hand in the crux before he started the walk forward. "I'm supposed to walk each girl back. Make small-talk," he murmured softly.
"And I'm sure you've had many interesting conversations," Maka muttered. "I'm not surprised that you said most of them faltered. I'm not sure half of them have practiced reading enough to actually be any good at it."
"Spoken like a true bookworm," he laughed.
Maka almost stopped dead in her tracks but they hadn't reached the end of the hall and the Queen was most likely still staring down her back.
Soul pulled his elbow in closer, forcing the space between them to shrink. His words were soft, only for her since the hallway that they'd turned into was still populated every few feet by guards. "I'm sorry, I think that upset you."
"No," Maka tried to laugh but it sounded sickly. "Also, apologizing to me is below you, isn't it? You are the prince, after all, and I'm just a lady." Silence slipped between them, words starting and failing on Maka's tongue as even with the glove she could feel him, a strange storm starting next to her. She was sure if she even got a corner of his bare skin to hers she'd be hearing a clamorous tempest reverberate under her fingers. The idea of reading him, while she promised herself she wouldn't, was starting to feel tempting.
His elbow fell away as they reached the door, but as Maka put her hand to the wood his fist slammed into it, freezing her in place. "I know I don't remember the things I should." Maka brought her eyes to his and saw the anger she had expected this morning. "But I will never forget to treat anyone the same as me. I may be your prince but you… you…"
The first second's worth of fear at his rage was gone, Maka smiling softly as she peeled his hand from the door. It was swift, knowing the hallways had eyes, but she brought it between them with a squeeze before letting it go. "I think it's me who should be apologizing." Soul was still entranced by the all too hasty touch, barely following her words until she spoke again. "Maybe you haven't changed much at all."
Tonight, even as he felt the presence and was once again overwhelmed with jasmine, Soul kept playing. He hadn't even expected her to return again, not with the pathetic end to the night before and then his outburst this morning. The strange anger that had overtaken him had been an old feeling, he was sure of it, something residual from the blank space in his mind, and he was convinced it was her hand on his elbow was stirring those things to the surface. That mystery was what had urged tonight's playing, and by the time she arrived, he was almost sure she'd said something like that before to him, that he was a prince and she was…
"Soul," came just loud enough to overpower the music.
"Maka," he answered softly just as the music ceased from his fingers.
There was a shuffle at the curtain before a sigh, "Why do you come down here every night?"
He contemplated closing the organ and turning to the curtain but a part of him was still storming, leaving him motionless on the bench. "It helps me think."
"Instead of sleeping?" The sentence was offered playfully but there was still worry there.
"I have nightmares," he offered weakly. "It's pathetic like I'm a kid, but I'm scared of them." The truth wasn't any more freeing now than when he told Black Star about them for the first time and another wave gripped Soul. When will it feel different? Or when will it finally just kill me?
"What are they?"
Soul blinked at the keys, unsure if he'd ever put those dark moments into words. "There's this demon, and he speaks to me, about fear, about power." The beating of his heart was starting to drown out the world.
"Is that what scares you?"
"No," he was surprised by the admission and even more so that the next words weren't stuck on his tongue, just reaching out for her, "It's what comes next. When I have to leave, I'm ripping, tearing out of someone."
"You don't know who?"
"No," he groaned. "I just know… I love her and I'm killing her." The thrum in his chest spiked in pain and he grunted, his fist coming to press to the scar.
"Are you alright?"
"It's nothing," he muttered. "Maybe you should leave. I'm not good company tonight."
The silence in return convinced him that she was gone and just as a sigh was about to tremble over his lips her voice broke through it, "Will you come to the curtain?"
The question was barely off her lips before he was on his feet, his heart leading his feet in quick steps. He looked for the bundled fabric but it was her hand he found instead, one with lily-white, fine fingers peeking from the side of the curtain. "What happened to impropriety?" he whispered breathlessly.
"Just take my hand, Soul," she snipped back.
Soul tried to produce a laugh but there wasn't enough air as he reached a wobbly hand to her. They looked cool but her fingers were filled with warmth as they tangled with his and there was no chance for Soul to catch his breath before the hazy dreams were coming back to his mind. He could hear the words coming off his tongue:
"Don't treat me like I'm some fragile-"
"Prince, you're a prince," came her voice back sharply.
"Not with Black Star, not with you," he was pleading. "After a year you'd think you'd realize that, Maka."
He couldn't see her, the outline still nothing more than light around a frame but he could swear she was crying. "But eventually-"
"I'm never leaving here," Soul shot back. "My parents don't care. My brother will be King and I can do whatever I want and I want to stay here. I can train, I can protect this kingdom like you do. I can-"
"You're a prince," came again firmly from her lips.
"I'm not when I'm with you," those words had been shaky, unsure, and he felt something rise up in his own chest that he couldn't recognize, a fluttering that wasn't from the scar. "And you're not just some girl. Don't forget that."
"Soul?"
His fingers tensed desperately in hers as he was sure she was about to pull away but found no resistance. "You cried that day," his voice was still faint from the dream.
A breathless laugh came from the other side of the curtain, "I hate to admit this, but you'll have to be more specific. There wasn't exactly just one day I cried in front of you."
"The one like today. It's not the first time you've tried to tell me I was a prince and you were just… you used to call yourself just a girl." He had to catch his breath because he could feel the moment start to flesh out more in the back of his mind instead of crumbling apart and with a scared hope, he wondered if it had cemented itself in his mind again.
"You are a prince," Maka murmured.
"But I told you not to forget that you're not just some girl," he urged back as the relief came in another wave, the words refusing to fade away from his mind.
"Maybe that's part of why I'm here," she barely let the sound break her lips as she unraveled their fingers and her hand slipped back behind the curtain.
Even without her touch, his heart was thundering, the words shivering on the tip of his tongue. "What happened between the two of us?" As he tore the fabric aside, sure he needed to see her face as she answered him, he found nothing but the darkness.
Black Star was tipping his chair back, the cup of mead perfectly balanced on his chest as he stared up at the stars. He was actually close to content and was well on his way to convincing himself to go down to the kitchens in an hour or so to see if he couldn't scare up a skirt to spend the night under when all of it came crashing down, literally. Maka had kicked the tilt in the chair, sending him without a hope toppling to his back as the fruity alcohol washed over his neck and face. He sputtered out of his joyful thoughts just in time for Maka's foot to hit his throat.
"You lied to me!" Maka hissed.
Black Star would have sputtered out a laugh if he had the breath to do it, so he grabbed Maka's foot, ripping it out from underneath her and gifting her a hard landing on her rear. As soon as his airway was free he laughed as she groaned. "You need to plant more weight on your foot. Really lean into the choke or you're going to get thrown every time." Black Star continued to cackle as he rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow. "So what did I lie about?"
"It's worse than you said." She'd used every last inch of self-control not to move to strangle him.
"With Soul?"
"Of course!"
Black Star blinked in thought before letting the vowel elongate from his throat, "Oh! You must have gotten better at that hand thing you used to do. Which means you touched him? Wow, Maka, and I thought you were a prude!"
"I touched his hand," Maka spat.
"Scandalous," Black Star rolled his eyes. "I mean, you really want to become Queen I'm sure he'd let you-"
"Shut up," Maka kicked her leg out into his side, only hitting at half-strength as he grasped her ankle.
"Ugh, who am I kidding, Soul has never even kissed a girl." Black Star wasn't above laying the bait.
"That's not-" Maka blushed.
"Not important or not true, huh?" Black Star raised his eyebrows.
The pink turned to red on her cheeks which was enough of an amusing answer for him. As he tried to abate his own chuckles, Black Star leaned closer to her. "What'd you find out when you two held hands?"
Maka let the annoyance float away as the worry that had sent her in search of Black Star in the first place took its place. "I've never felt anything like it. It was black, oily, a curse but not. It's closer to madness and he's… the strength that it must be taking to keep it locked away like he has is enormous."
"Well, he's no sissy," Black Star shrugged. "But it's been getting harder to keep it in check. His nightmares are every night now. The physician or whatever the hell she is has been trying a bunch of different remedies but-"
"A physician?"
"Or herbalist, or apothecary, I can't figure her out, but she was the one to treat him when he came home with that wound to begin with." Black Star watched with interest as the suspicion started to harden her eyes.
"And that still bothers him, the wound?"
"Well, I mean, it's huge, the scar's from his hip to his armpit, so…" Black Star knew better than to continue as she sucked in a weak breath. "Yeah. He says it aches sometimes."
"All the time," Maka corrected. "I could feel it."
"Fuck," Black Star sighed. Hesitantly, he reached for her, his hand hovering closer to her shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure if he knew he'd tell you not to-"
"Shut up," Maka snapped desperately as she motioned away his hand. "I want to meet this physician."
"Well, you're in luck, she's looking you all over tomorrow. The future Queen needs a clean bill of health." Black Star couldn't help the grin from pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You think there's trouble?"
"Of course there is," Maka sighed. "I knew this wasn't going to be easy."
"Hey, nothing with you two ever is," Black Star laughed. "But you gotta tell me, you just held hands?"
Maka tried to jab him with a kick again but his grip on her ankle was too tight. "Yes, and… he's remembering things. Pieces of conversations, maybe moments. I think I can influence it, too. Tonight what he described was a fight I'd actually been thinking about."
"Hey, lay off the fights, you're supposed to be wooing him."
Maka scoffed, "Wooing him? Isn't it the other way around?"
"Keep thinking that and it'll be the other girls he woos," Black Star pointed an accusing finger. "I told you to use these nights to your advantage. Remind him what annoying shit made him fall for you the first time around." As she opened her mouth, he wagged his finger again, "And don't start with that stupid bullshit that he didn't. Before the Queen ordered him back, he was ready to spend his life there with you, you know that."
"With all of us," Maka corrected as she brought her hands to her cheeks, trying to will away the burn.
"Well, I went without mentioning, that idiot can't live without me," Black Star crowed before he let a smirk settle on her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad it was you."
"How do I take that the wrong way?" She laughed weakly.
"Don't think I approve of this whole marriage bullshit," Black Star kept grinning as he let his head fall back on his arm with a sigh. "And you can be the most annoying woman I've ever met-"
"Thank you," Maka interjected with a grumble.
"But you made him happy back then." Black Star's mind was elsewhere, his eyes trailing the cobblestone. "I just want him to be happy again."