"Edgar," Locke chuckles. "as much as I'd love to go for round five, I haven't eaten a solid meal in over a month and," He sighs from the shiver of pleasure washing over him as the king removes himself from within his body. "I can already smell dinner."
Kissing his lover, Edgar whispers into Locke's neck. "I can taste lemon cake on your breath."
"I managed some bites before you stole me away." Tapping the mans broad shoulder with his left hand, the right pushes against Edgar's chest. "Come on, move it." He sits up when given some breathing room. "I'll be your sex slave just as soon as I'm full."
"That's a deal." Grabbing his clothes from the floor, Edgar walks to the bathroom. "If I promise to keep my hands to myself will you, at least, wash with me?"
'What's with the 'at least' thing?' Wonders Locke getting up from the bed. "Of course I'll wash with you." Walking over, he slides his hands under his lover's arms wrapping them around his torso; as they would if they rode horse back together, his head lays on the blond's shoulder blade being too short to place his chin upon the top. "And as long as its quick, nothing wrong with making the most of it."
"That would defeat the purpose of the wash." Edgar teases.
The two walk into the bathroom; Edgar turns on the lamp, set in the stone wall, lighting the room for them to see better than the window light provides. Already undressed, they climb into the tub removing rags from the buckets of water beside it. Locke's hands don't hesitate in reaching over to Edgar, soaping up his sticky genitals before the rag smooths its way over the man's torso. Watching him, his blue eyes following the way and the motion of the rag, he dunks the rag he's picked up into the water, returning the favor to Locke.
"Let's eat in the room tonight." Edgar says softly.
Locke's hazel eyes laugh. "Naah, I wanna visit with Sabin and Setzer a little. Who knows how long they're staying, we should eat with them- if only for tonight."
Edgar nods. Curious at the way his lover's words were phrased, he asks. "And how long will you be staying?"
Locke shrugs, absently. "I don't know, a couple days." Locke grunts when Edgar's palming scrunches in, almost like a grip, taking some of his skin with it.
"You just got here!" He hisses.
"Yeah, but, I still have one more island to visit. The sooner it gets done, the sooner it can be the two of us again."
Sighing in resign to the fact that its the truth, Edgar still doesn't care for the idea of being alone, again, for as many months as its going to take Locke to cross the endless lands of some random island.
"I'm gonna ask for Setzer's help, though. I can get a birds eye view, and I can use his telescope to see things closer, if I need to." He caresses the blond's cheek. "I'll try to be gone no longer than a month or two."
Edgar still seemed down about it but nods. Much like his kingly duties he knows that having a lay of the land will really help out the travelers, merchants and sailors. He can't have any venom towards Locke's, self appointed, duties. Being the non-husband of a king must feel small in comparison to all he does for the world; Locke is no slouch, no admirerer of other peoples accomplishments and well-doings, without wanting to contribute his own impressions on the world. He joined the Returners at a young age after leaving the castle. Edgar never understood why he had left him when his parents died, but later on, when he'd become an adult he understood perfectly of Locke's restless heart to serve and protect the world he loves as much as anyone else. And he'd found a way to do it, being at his side all the time and doing nothing would not accomplish that. But still... being left behind hurts. Being the one to approve of this and see the end result of that, having done nothing to contribute to it half the time, hurts. Being King is mostly just a title not an honor. To be a king is to be a prisoner, and the realization scared Edgar to the core.
The hard flow of water washing down his body caught his attention from his thoughts. Blinking, he looks over at Locke who is busy dumping a bucket of water over his own head; flecks of water splatter against him when the brunet shakes his head. Edgar had to wonder why Locke would dump the water over his head, when only his mid-section needed to be cleaned. But then, that's just one of the quirks about the man that he loves so much. If Locke needs two months then he'll give them to him. He's also enthralled with the man's hair, its brown but, getting up close you come to see that Locke's hair is peppered heavily with strands of grey. It isn't from age, Locke's only 27, his hair has been like that since he's known the male as a child.
Holding a towel out, to the mentally lost lover, Locke shows a crooked smirk. "We'd better get down to dinner before Sabin eats it all, and Setzer drinks it all."
Snickering, Edgar takes the towel quickly brushing it down his body.
...
The table is set with a lovely gray cloth lined with a silver trim, candles lit, instead of using the lamps in the room and a wide selection of foods from meats to fruits, vegetables, to two heavy looking cakes of chocolate iced and vanilla. The four diners chat heartily with one another about what they've been doing in the past months. Edgar started off speaking with them, about how he'd planned on improving this and that, about employing men to return electricity to South Figaro. The town ran on hydro electricty. It was an amazing thing, the envy of all the other towns; Kohlingen is going to receive the same once its back to its former glory, since its Figaro's neighboring village when it moves to the other part of land. The castle can't receive the same treatment, though, there's a large body of water running beneath the tunnels of the castle but the pipe work would simply be too much right now. But as he realized that his news was done, the king quieted listening to the many adventures of his friends and lover.
"I'll need you to give me a lift to Jidoor tomorrow, Setzer." Sabin turns his focus to the gambler before looking across the table to the others. "Clyde invited me to see Relm's art show at Owzer's mansion."
"Clyde?" Edgar said the name as if pronouncing it were hard.
"Shadow." Locke informs.
They've only been aquainted with the man's true identity for exactly a month, so it was easy to forget whom was being spoken of when it gets randomly tossed about in conversation; to be honest, none of them have seen the ninja outside of his usual black gi and mask. But there had been a time when Sabin was visiting home, about a year and a half ago, and "Clyde" was seen walking around after a bath in nothing but a towel, in search of Sabin. The man was nearly thrown in the dungeon, due to the guards not being able to recognize him. He'd nearly broken one mans' neck by twisting his towel around it, the others had been dispatched with well placed kicks and punches to vital places. It had actually been pretty funny seeing claud standing there, in the nude, telling Sabin to back the guards off of him.
Edgar wondered, a moment, what it would be like to be unrecognizeable but then he realized that he already is. He hasn't been himself since 15 years old, when all that evil with Kefka started and his father taking ill. He had to bury himself away, to hide away from the down spiral he knew he would take losing his father. The responsibilty that came with his father's death; Edgar thought that he would have help from his mother, but even a strong woman has a place made of glass that with just the right tap it can be broken through; as fragile as sand, sinking the moment something as unimpressive as a finger is stuck into it. But then that isn't necessarily true. Sand only moves away, giving in to the pressure rather than crumpling from it, later when the wind is in its favor it will bury the intruder whole. People of the desert are anything but fragile.
'Still... I would have liked help from Mother, Sabin or even Locke all those years ago. And not be left practically in the care of that demented clown; walking the castle as if he owned the place.' Thinks Edgar. Returning to the conversation when hearing his name, he asks. "Pardon?"
"I said I'd buy you a painting, Ed'- if I see something you'd like." Sabin repeats.
Smiling, he says, "Thank you." adding. "Something with a lot of color would suit me just fine."
"Color it is." He winks at his brother.
"How are things going in Desear?" Setzer asks.
"Great! I made up the map a few days ago. Last place on the list is that long strip in the middle." He takes a gulp of wine. Swallowing, he nods to get the gambler's attention. "Which reminds me, if you're not busy can you fly me around there so I can get an overhead? It should only take two months at the longest."
"Sure. Not as if I have anything going on, since Terra's giving me the brush off."
"Why?" Edgar asks. Slicing into his pheasant, he takes the bite from his fork.
"I haven't the slightest idea." Snickering he adds. "Maybe two months without me popping in on her, she'll come to miss me."
Slapping him on the back, hard enough to send him forward a jerk, Sabin comments. "Optimistic as always."
Straightening, Setzer continues. "And since you'll be in Jidoor for a bit, why not find for me that house you mentioned."
"Alright. I'll take that challange." Holding out a hand he gives Setzer's a good shake when the man takes his.
'Look at them, you'd swear I'm the guy in the group. Spoken too, but hardly noticed.' Edgar takes a long drink. 'Stop it, why am I thinking like this. All this self loathing isn't good for a person in the least. I have to keep a stiff upper lip. Things will change, and once the world is rebuilt, we'll all have a big party to celebrate the summer or fall, winter or spring- whatever season we happen to be in. And we'll just enjoy each others company again, no duties tying us down.' Smiling he sets the glass down. 'Its a wonderful thought.'
The evening ended with a large slice of cake served to them. They take it in the lounge with a strong drink, while the dining room is being cleaned. They spoke for a long while more, about nothing in particular, then the four retired to their rooms.
...
Locke arched from the bed, head pressing back deeply into the pillow resting beneath it while Edgar pumped himself into him a few more times as he climxed. Completely out of breath, limbs weak like noodles, Locke's a puddle beneath his lover; who remains laying over top of him, kissing feverishly at his neck and chin. Locke snickers softly when hearing Edgar whispering that he wants more.
"You can have all you like but I'm gonna sleep through some of it, alright?" He moans feeling a hand fondling his genitals. It seems that Edgar is serious about having him as much as he wants him. Hardly having caught his breath, Locke whispers. "How 'bout we finish this when we wake up?"
Edgar nods, removing his hand from the treasure hunter's lap he holds tightly to Locke's sides, pulling him close. Their lips continue to move together, until slowly, each caress of the tongue and sensuous brushing of lips ceases its movement as the two fall asleep.
22222
"And what's that one?" Edgar asks; his ten year old eyes staring through a telescope into the sky.
"That one?" His father, Roenne Figaro, points out. "Its Orion."
"Orion? Do you know about him, dad?" Sabin asks, pulling the scope from his brother to look into the sky at a very dim clutter of stars.
"There's a myth about that cluster of stars," Roenne says to his sons and their eight year old friend Locke. "and it goes that, Orion was a beautiful young giant and a great hunter who was the son of Neptune."
"Neptune?" Locke scrunches his nose, cocking his head to the sky. Neptune sounds more aquatic than spacey, to him.
With a nod, he continues. "He was God of the sea. Orion's prowess, strength, and manliness are legend."
The kids laugh at the mention of 'manliness', something about the word struck them as funny. Maybe it was the way Roenne had said it. Like there were nudity involved.
"One story of his death says the Goddess of dawn, Eos, fell in love with him. Diana, the Goddess of the moon, became jealous that Eos should take a mortal lover and commanded a scorpion to kill him."
"Is that possible father?" Edgar questions. The thought of controlling anything other than a person verbally seemed impossible. Life can't understand human speech.
"I suppose if you're a Goddess than you can do anything."
The kids 'aaa' in marvel.
"There's another version but, that's a bit heavy for children."
The kids thought about the meaning of that then decided not to question it.
"In his death, Orion was placed amongst the stars, along with the scorpion that killed him. They each became a constellation. Orion with his golden armor and sword in hand, is one of the brightest and most spectacular constellations in the heavens on a winter night. But when the scorpion, who was placed in the stars, rises in the summer the brillance of Orion fades. The eternal struggle."
"Man, that's cool. I wish it was summer so we could see Orion dimmed." Sabin leans himself on the rest at the edge of the tower.
"What else does the book say, King Roenne?" Asks Locke, hands held out to take the item to look for himself. He never got to learn about the stars when he lived on the streets. He would lay out in fields wondering about the twinkling overhead lights. These scholar books are something else. Its kind of scary, though, to think about something like what's in this book going on many years ago. He could have sworn that life started when parents did.
"That's all for now, kids. Time for bed, or the queen will have my head." Placing his hands out before him, he makes a sweeping motion as if the kids are dust bunnies, and he ushers them to the hatch to return in doors.
In single file the four exit the tower returning to the halls of the castle. Just as they made their way to the exit of the hall, the four stop dead in their tracks. At the end of the hall, stands the queen. Arms crossed, a questioning look on her face as she looks over the children, her expression changes when seeing her husband behind them.
"Go on off to bed children. I would like to have a word with the king, about the importance of bedtime."
"Yes mother." The twins reply speeding past.
"Yes, queen Sabella." Locke follows Edgar to his room.
Watching them depart down the hall, the queen walks over to her husband, whose face has gone as red as his garb; knowing that he's in trouble with his wife always made him feel like a child being scolded by his mother.
Edgar stopped his departure to look over his shoulder at the pair. His father smiled, laughing a little. His mother shook her head, the curls of her strawberry blonde hair swung a little with each toss from the gesture. She ended up snickering about something before wrapping her arms around her husband; he twists her back and forth within the hold. Turning away from the scene, Edgar travels down the next hall to his bedroom. Locke is at the secret passage, which leads to a hidden bedroom that Edgar used as a playroom and hiding spot when he wanted to be alone. Only his parents know about it.
"Come on, Ed'." Locke calls before disappearing behind the wall.
Following the stray, he heads down the stairs; lit by a single oil lamp since the case isn't that long a way down, only about six steps. One inside the room the two throw themselves onto the large, four poster, bed with a canopy- that Locke used to call, 'the tent bed'- wrapping themselves up in one anothers arms they let out a contented sigh.
"I wanna be cool like that guy, Orion, from the story." Locke declared suddenly.
"You're way cooler than Orion."
"Yeah, but he's still cool to me." Locke closes his eyes. "I like how he was a giant and kind, and powerful, and manly." He laughs, while wriggling his hips side to side.
Chuckling, Edgar gives his friend a squeeze. "Cut that out. Its indecent."
"I know, I know." Opening his eyes, he turns his head to look at the blond. "Call me Orion."
"Why?"
"I have to have the name to go with the prowess."
"That's foolish. You can take his personality traits but taking his name will just make you look dumb." His hand releases Locke's bicep, sliding over to his chest to brush his finger tips across it. Locke was always full on adventure, he keeps up, though. Sabin too. The princes really made a fine friend in the boy who crashed their birthday party so many years ago. "You should shorten your nickname, that way you can have one and yet its not copying."
"To what?" Locke questions. "Ori?"
"No. I was thinking more like Rion."
"Rion?" He crinkles his nose. "You know, it does sound pretty good. Rion, the conqueror, Rion the adventurerer." Nodding he closes his eyes. "That is cool."
Sitting up, Edgar removes a dagger from the bedside table drawer. "Okay, sit up." He says to his friend. Unsheathing the dagger he touched the pad to Locke's shoulder. "I Edgar, Roni, Figaro dub Locke, Alexander, Cole with the nickname of the coolest constellation in all the heavens, Orion. So now, until the two of us forget, he will be 'Rion' Cole."
"Wow." Taking the dagger, he looks it over then hands it back. Chuckling, he lays on the bed.
"What's so funny?"
"Roni." He laughs again. "I never knew your middle name."
Laughing, Edgar slams the pillow into the male's laughing face. "Shut up."
The two children laugh through the remainder of the night, popping one another with pillows before finally drifting off to sleep, sometime early in the morning. As if falling asleep in the dream were an indication to wake up, Edgar's eyes pop open. Blinking, he cast his blurry gaze around the bedroom. From lack of weight on Locke's side of the bed, he can tell that he's alone. Sitting up, from the position he had on his stomach, Edgar looks around the room for signs of where the missing male had gone. A soft smile spreads across his face when remnants of the dream returned to him. He'd always loved looking at the starry sky with his father, Locke and Sabin. It always made their mother furious when she'd caught them sneaking down from the towers early in the morning, from when they'd started late at night; scold them as she might, it never stopped their sneaky activity. Edgar had forgotten about Locke's nickname completely; they'd later on respelled it as R-Y-A-N, because Locke thought it would be lame if it remained as R-I-O-N since when mixing the letters around it spells out, Roni. Locke took Edgar's words seriously and didn't want to be known as a copycat, or anything like that.
"Locke?" Edgar calls quietly, a little louder he says again. "Locke, where are you?" Sliding from the bed, he walks around it heading for the bathroom door. Pushing it open, he calls in with no reply. Going to the secret wall, along the right wall once you enter the room, he pushed it open calling down the stairs to the invisible man as, like before, no one answered. "Where could he have gone?" Turning his head, he sees that the door to the balcony is open. Crossing the room, Edgar freezes for the briefest second as a slight movement caught the corner of his eye in the mirror. Looking over his shoulder at the item, he can see nothing out of place in its reflection so he continued to the balcony. "Locke, what-..." His sentence chops off when seeing that no one is outside waiting for him, nor are they absently watching the sky.
Returning into the room, doors closing behind him from a tug on the knobs, Edgar stroles over to the large bed taking a seat. Wherever the male was there was no sense in looking for him. He'd be back.
(But you're unsure of that, aren't you?) Asks a silky voice from beside the king.
Looking around the room he smiles; a hand comes up to his face to rub at the bridge between his eyes. "Wonderful, I'm still asleep. I should have known," Climbing back into bed the covers are pulled up to his chest, and his eyes close easily. "Locke would never just leave without saying anything."
(Wouldn't he?) Again, the voice in his head is commenting on his words. That could get to be annoying.
Sighing in agitation, Edgar humors himself and replies. "Yes. He would not leave me without saying something about it first." Sitting up, he pressed his back to the headboard. "And say one more thing against my words and I'll silence you myself."
(Yeah, I'm real scared.) The voice hissed, tauntingly.
Edgar started as the voice sounded almost... real. Again, movement from the mirror caught his eye. Squinting at it; the only real light in the room is from the moon coming in through the window. Pushing the blanket from his body, he crawls towards the end of the bed. "Is someone here?" His vision swept the room. He wonders if someone is hiding out in the shadows, teasing his blindness in the dark, waiting to strike when the time is right. 'That's not right. I'm still asleep. How can I be taking this seriously when its nothing more than a silly dream?'
Sure that he's right, Edgar retreats back to the top of the bed and lays down. He's had enough for one night and hopes that morning comes soon, or that the dream finds a way to shift itself to something more pleasent. But as he closes his eyes, he can feel a presense... watching him... breathing on him... almost as if the person were right there in the room, and crouched on the bed in some twisted angle he breathes down on the back of Edgar's neck. Edgar can't believe that his hand is shaking as it reaches out for the lamp beside the bed on a table. Expecting the light to flicker on and luminate the room, he's surprised when nothing but a hiss sound settles in the air.
'The oil can't be gone, it was just refilled.' Sitting up, he notices something out of the corner of his eye, again, at the mirror. This time its not movement but a solid form, more obvious than say a large green elephant standing on its front hooves in the middle of a dining room. Turning to the thing, he expects to see it sitting at the edge of the bed or at the bottom but no one is there. Breaths as shaky as the hand that reached for the knob on the lamp, Edgar gets off the bed walking to the end of it for a better look. 'Its a man.' He makes a mental note. His steps stop when at the end of the bed, his hand reaches out in the airspace that the image is occupying. It distorts in no way. Looking at the man in the mirror, Edgar's heart stills at seeing the man's darkened eyes staring his way.
Its hard to tell if the eyes are looking at him, because there's nothing there but black sockets. It seems that everything about the man is dark! His clothes, hair, eyes, smile... everything but his skin, which is a dulled gray in the moonlight. The man smiled at him, the black paint on his lips accent his white teeth, also made to look gray from the moon. When Edgar takes a single step closer, the man nods, his sinister smile broadening. Head cocked in curiosity the dreaming king steps closer to the mirror. The image stands walking closer to the glass- if there is a glass there, that is. Edgar can't see his reflection to tell. Both men hold up a hand; the man in the mirror acted as though he were the king's reflection because, like a reflection, his right hand raised to mirror Edgar's left. But when touching the glass Edgar gasps so hard, its a wonder he didn't black out from instant suffocation. The mirror's image clamped its hand in Edgar's, intwining his fingers to strengthen the clamp.
'Dammit!' He struggles, panicked sounds escape his throat while he tries to pull his hand free.
The image laughed, his other hand shoots out wrapping tightly around Edgar's throat. Turning red, Edgar sticks his foot against the wall to aid him in freeing himself, but as he gains some leeway from his attacker, he can see a wrist pull free from its confinement behind the glass. Grabbing the wrist with his free hand, Edgar tugs the arm away from him and with help from the wall he pulls free, but only for a second. This time he's grabbed by the collar of his pajamas being tugged face first into the mirror. The empty sockets stare down at him; upclose he sees that they had been closed all the time, a heavy dark make-up covers the lids which are now open showing the solid white of his eyeballs. He hates seeing it... because it can't be true. If it were true, than why is it true? But the eyes, those solid white eyes, finally slide down from being rolled up in the man's head revealing his own. The crystal clear blue stares back at him harshly, mocking and cruel, judging him completely as a mistake and a fraud. But what would he know? What the hell would he know!
Edgar's body suddenly jerks backward before being tugged violently forward, as if he were nothing more than a ragged doll, and he's smashed clean through the mirror.
"Edgar! Edgar wake up!"
He can feel himself responding seconds after a slap across the face, and his fist flies clean across the face of the mirror's image. He might go, but it won't be easily.
"Ow! Come on, Edgar, wake up."
The king's eyes snap open and he instantly sits up. Breathing hard and uneven, he looks around the room; daylight shines through the window marking a new day. So he had been dreaming.
"Are you ok?" Locke stands, taking a seat at the edge of the bed he scratches Edgar lightly against his back to calm him down. "You were screaming pretty loudly. Its a wonder the guards didn't come in here."
Edgar says nothing but continues looking where his eyes have come to rest... the mirror. He'd half thought that it would be smashed in, like it had been in the dream, but it sits there, whole, as always. Finally, he turns his attention to Locke.
"You alright?" He asks now that the man's attention is on him.
Nodding, Edgar rubs his face sleepily. "I had a bad dream."
"What was it about?"
Edgar shakes his head. "I think I dreamt about the break in, but..." He trails off trying to find the right way to word it. "it was different somehow."
"Break in? What break in?" Concern is evident in his voice and face. Its not like Edgar to be this jittery over a dream and the man's had plenty of bad dreams in his life but they've never caused him to react like this.
"A few days back someone broke into the castle."
"You're kidding?" That was certainly a shock. Who the hell would be dumb enough to break into the castle? "Did you catch 'em?"
Edgar shakes his head. "We didn't find a trace of there even being a break in. We searched for the better part of the day, but it was like looking for a shadow in the dark."
"What'd they steal? Maybe I can ask around about someone pawning stuff off?"
"No, no. They didn't steal anything, that's the funny part. But they instead beat up one of the maids." Seeing Locke's expression he nods in agreement. "The poor woman is positively spooked by the whole thing, doesn't remember a bit of it. I gave her time off to heal. She's very embarrassed by the bruising on her face and body."
"Wow." He whistles in disbelief.
"I know. It didn't even seem that he wanted to kill her, but to simply harm her beyond all reason- the damned sick bastard." He curses. "He cut her, clean through to the other side... it was a nightmare."
Locke can't believe that all that had gone on while he was away. Maybe going out again was a bad idea. Edgar could use his help in tracking- granted the creep came back. "Listen, Edgar, if you want... I can stay here. Nevermind maping, its not as important as helping you."
"No." Edgar waves it off. "I don't believe the person will come back, nor do I believe that we'll find out who did it. I will not let the matter go, though, whomever is responsible will slip up and when they do..." The dangerous sound in his tone explained it all. The man would be beheaded.
A sturdy knock on the door caught their attention. No word from the person who'd done it, which meant it was Sabin telling them to come on to breakfast. His brother was always the first to do everything, dragging Edgar along with him that is until Locke came along then it was always Locke doing the dragging to both brothers.
"Are you sure you're ok?" His hand lands over Edgar's and his fingers, in comfort, thread between the male's.
It isn't received that way, though. Gasping, Edgar quickly snatched his hand away.
"You really are jumpy." He stands. "You sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Locke... go. As you said, the sooner you go the sooner you can get back."
"Right." Leaning over, he pecks the male on the mouth. "Get dressed and come downstairs," At the door he says. "I'll take as long as I can with eating so I'm not gone so fast."
Snickering, Edgar shakes his head. "Just get out of here. I'll be down in a moment." Climbing out of bed, he walks to the dressing closet. His hand stills when reaching for the knob. "What in the world?" Red marks mar the back of his hand. It would not be nearly as disturbing if it weren't for the fact that when he turned his hand around, he sees a wider imprint on his palm. Turning his hand from front to back he wonders. "Is this a hand print? But how?" A cold chill ran up his spine. He's compelled to take that mirror and throw it over the balcony to be done with it, but instead he ignores the rapid beating of his heart and the unsettled nerves; opening the closet then grabbing his clothing, Edgar walks behind the dressing curtain, changing from his pajamas before leaving the room to head down for breakfast.
22222
The four of them are walking towards the castles exit. Edgar, due to Locke starting the conversation, had informed the others of the break in that happened a few days ago and Sabin was not taking it well.
"Why didn't you say something about it, though?" He questions rounding a corner with the rest of them. "You know, Edgar, if you need me to stay here I will."
"Why would I need you to stay here?" Edgar stopped to turn around and face his brother. "Am I incapable of protecting the kingdom?"
Taken aback by the snip in his brother's tone, Sabin shakes his head. "No. That's not what I'm saying, its just that, with all the work you're doing, it can be kind of a sudden thing to have to protect the castle. Your game could be thrown off." He shrugs.
Glaring, he shakes his head. "My game is not thrown off, brother. I can handle any issue that comes up."
"Edgar, its not that you and the guards can't handle it. I'm only saying that I worry about you being here all by yourself, so let me!"
"Never seemed to bother you before!"
Hearing the raising of voices, Setzer decided to break the tension. "You do know that I parked above the roof. We're going the wrong way."
The three look at the man, who shrugged.
Sighing, Sabin says to Locke and Setzer. "Come on."
Turning around they start down the hall.
"Lovely seeing you again, Edgar. I'll return your Locke back to you in two months." He holds up the fingers when saying 'two'.
Locke makes a gesture that he's being strangled, before laughing it off and waving a goodbye to Edgar before disappearing around the corner. Edgar waves back.
'There they go again, off on another adventure while leaving me alone.' He heaves a heavy sigh. 'I'll have some time in the afternoon, maybe I'll write a letter. Take my own initiative.' Walking down the hall off to where his study resides, he pauses. ...For the slightest second, it felt as if someone were watching him. Sure that he's alone, minus the guards standing at the end of the hall, Edgar continues on his way.
22222
Sabin arrived in Jidoor around the early evening of five o'clock. Clyde didn't wait for him at the entrance as he said he would but it was no big deal. Hands in his pockets he walks along the town, looking left and right at the homes he's passing and, should he see any for sale signs, he'd check it out for the gambler as he'd said he would. Owzer's mansion came into view ten minutes later. Sabin turns his head to the movement at his side, smiling when seeing his double-life leading lover. Sabin would never admit to mushy stuff, but being with Shadow he began to understand why his brother and Locke always sought time alone, or would have sweet little glances at one another even when things were very serious. To just feel better when someone is around was a new and very welcomed experience for the martial artist. Family and friends were one thing, but with Shadow there was that connection of mental intimacy he can't have with other people. Honestly, if one of his other friends were doing the things that Shadow does as an assassin he'd never forgive them, but for some reason he's able to see the meaning behind it all with the man. It isn't something he wants to do, its something that's taken over him and even if its wrong, he will not stop. To be able to understand a person like that, to love them, is a hefty thing. Not only do you have to struggle in your own tug-of-war but you have to face them through theirs. But the love he receives for it is worth it in the end. Shadow has never taken a life without looking in to it first, that much he's been granted for his love. If the person is just bothering someone, then he tells them what's going on and sees to it that they disappear, but if he finds out about some shady actions he'll kill them without mercy.
He's a good man. To judge him based on his actions is a foolish thing, when in life he's a mere man... a good man.
"You waited for me." Sabin accused falling into step with the man as they make their way into the open home.
"No. I just didn't want to be left alone with Relm."
Smiling, Sabin shakes his head. It must be so weird to find out that you're a father to a ten year old; especially a ten year old like Relm. The girl is fowl mouthed, of the innuendo kind, and doesn't take 'do you know how old you are' as anything but 'yeah, but you're thinking about it, aren't you?' To have her fighting in a war as they did would have killed any parent mentally but Shadow was surprised to see the girl scaling through that horrid tower attacking monsters and men savagely. He called her a chip off the old block. Sabin had always joked that if the little artist were made of flowers, Clyde would want nothing to do with her. But seeing that she could give him a run for his money, he can shrug and say she has potential. You would not be able to call them the perfect father-daughter pair but they do get along... most of the time.
"Finally, you're here!" The twelve year old shouts from the entrance of the home. Darting out of the house she latches onto her father's hand, taking Sabin's as well she looks around the two of them. "What gives?"
"What?" Sabin looks over his shoulder to see what the girl is looking at.
"Its only you and not your hunky brother, I wanted him to come see my art- and maybe buy something?" Casting a dark eye at Sabin she says. "You look like a peddler. How can you do that to your royal heritage?" Sighing heavily she shakes her head. "It can't be helped. Come on."
The two are dragged into the large mansion and walked through each display that the girl has up in her name. Relm lives with the essentric art lover, who claims that he can't live without the girls paintings and when visited, Relm was often never seen without a smock on, or paint all over her face. There were other paintings there, as well as the artist who painted them, but as Relm instructed the two weren't allowed to so much as look at any of them.
"This one is my favorite. I wanted you to have it, Sabin."
"Me?" He smiles politely.
The painting is of a busy town but the funny thing is that they're all packed in to one area, the colors of the town done in many shades of gray; the town's people are completely black but with big broad white grins on their faces, yet, in the crowd there is one man done in vivid colors but instead of a smile he looks a bit sad.
His own smile falters a bit, then he looks down at the grinning child. "Uh huh." Is the only thing he can think to say.
"Can't you guess the meaning? Its about the two of you."
Taken aback Sabin studies the picture a bit more. But shakes his head, his hand coming up to scratch the back of it.
Speaking up, "I think that it says no matter how many people are surrounding you in this world, you will always feel alone." Clyde chides.
Cocking a brow, Relm nearly slices the man with her, "Tch." to his explaination. "Nooo. It means that you should stop looking at things that are the same and look at the things that are different, and smile."
Perplexed Sabin leans closer to the painting. "Where does it say that?" He mentally added 'on us'; though his thought went directly to the lament he had, before coming in here, when he'd seen the man.
"You feel art, dummy." Hands on her hips she sighs. "You like my dad even though, let's face it, he's eight sandwiches short of a picnic. You could have been with any number of normal people but you chose an odd ball like him, so smile."
"I think I'm insulted." Comments said father, in a teasing monotone.
Owzer, who had been walking around paused when hearing the man speak. That voice sounded so familiar. But where had he heard it?
The art lover's pause did not go missed by the assassin whom, on Relm's first day of living with the man, had paid him a little visit as his alias 'Shadow'. He hung over the man's bed, perched atop the bedpost like a gargoyle and with a tone he kept away only for those special people he truly enjoyed murdering; he whispered to the man that if he'd ever laid even a long glance on Relm he would suffer dearly for the rest of his life: chained up while being carved away, but never fully being torn apart so the pain would last and last. The man got the hint, Shadow could tell, as the rich scent of urine filled the air while he stuttered out a stream of "y-yes whatever you say. I'll never touch her."
Clyde had to smile to himself as the few people he'd ever spoken to rarely lived afterwards, so chances of them identifing him, when dressed down, were slim to none. But this moment now was priceless. He wondered what the man would do if he knew the truth. Probably wet himself again.
"Shadow would probably like this one." Relm points out a picture.
Its a painting of a man, he's split in half from top to bottom and one half is painted in dark shades, the other half in lights. The man in the dark has an expression of anguish, though, he's towering above the the man in the light, who looks slightly pleased in his crouch on the floor.
"He isn't smiling because the light is beautiful and serene, he's smiling because he likes the darkness that doesn't hide itself."
Ruffling the girls hair, Sabin says. "You're one sick little puppy, you know that?"
"No. I just think deeper than most twelve year olds." She grins egotistically at the older men.
"Deeper, huh?" Touching the painting, Clyde smiles. "I can't say that she doesn't have talent."
Pleased that the man likes it, she grabs the mens hands. "This one is actually happy, I painted it yesterday afternoon."
"Is this gonna be an all night thing?" Clyde asks, rolling his eyes. A trait he'd picked up from Sabin. Shadow, being an assassin, never had much of a typical state of mind having to be sharper and quicker than the next man- kill or be killed- is his motto. But since last year he's been able to walk around as himself more and more, and he had to admit that it wasn't half bad. But as Relm's painting said, the darkness owns him and it always will. But he has the power over it, not the other way around and he had to pity anyone that lived in its shadow...
22222
"There we are," Edgar stuffs the note inside the birds pouch. "off you go now."
With a 'coo' the pigeon flew off to New Mobliz. Edgar made a mental note to get another few birds to be trained for locating Desear, Algol, and Bannon. Birds are a quick study but its really a better idea to use only one bird per destination; one could never be sure with animals and the last thing one would want is for important letters to be lost from a bird falling off course.
Chancellor Arnold had left Edgar alone once all the days work was done. Free for the afternoon the man didn't have a clue of what to do with himself. Then it hit him. Striding across the room Edgar opens the door, looking from left to right at the two men standing watch.
"Would you men like to join me outside for some fresh air?" He asks.
Confused, one man says. "Your Majesty?"
"Come on, a friendly game." He walks out of the room to address them directly, instead of lurking in the doorway. "I'll even let you call me Edgar."
The two men were unsure, but then how can they refuse the king.
Two hours later Edgar re-entered the castle alone.