Chapter 7:
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you…" She watched, amused, as the blond boy from a few days ago in the Hall sprinted towards the water fountain. He was all flailing limbs and no grace, but there was something endearing about him. It wasn't until he was gulping down water that she noticed a bandana on the floor a few paces away, black and lonely against the whiteness of the Citadel's walls. Curiously, she stepped forward, picking it up.
She'd just come back from lunch herself, with Ignis's uncle, in fact. They'd gone over minuscule things, like the housing arrangements for the newlywed Prince and Oracle once they returned from their honeymoon, and her own accommodations in the Citadel. It seemed Urentus was in charge of the housing logistics in the palace, amongst other things. She hadn't considered that, after the wedding, she would only return to Fenestala long enough to gather her things, and would then return to Insomnia permanently. It was a bit frightening, the realization. She hadn't known anything but the Manor for the last 7 years of her life.
"Um, pardon me?" She cleared her throat, hating to interrupt the boy dying of thirst as he blessed his throat with water. Cor must be working him to the bone. "Is this yours?"
He looked up, water still dripping from the side of his mouth. He looked shocked to see her, but she was more taken aback by his beautiful eyes. They were blue, and big, and full of life, and the freckles dusting his pale face, now flushed from the outdoor training, were quite cute, too. His nose was very Grecian, straight and casting him in a lovely profile, and the line of his jaw was sharp, although he still looked to be very young. If she didn't know any better, he almost looked… familiar.
"Uh…" He was still hunched over the water fountain, frozen. Was her appearance that disarming to him?
She shoved her hand towards him, a little more forcefully than before, and only then did he look down and see the bandana in her hands. Immediately he started blushing, even more than his flushed face already could conceive.
"Th-thanks," He managed. His voice was kind of raspy, and she kind of liked it. It wasn't exacting like Ravus's always had been. Sharp, crisp, clear, but always angry. She hated his anger.
"I believe it slipped from your arm when you came running inside," She continued. He blinked at her, and she wondered if she'd said something wrong.
"O-oh…yeah…" He let out a nervous laugh, and she could tell she was making him uncomfortable. Regis had mentioned he'd never received martial training; maybe he'd never conducted himself around royalty before, either. Was he really not nobility? He rose finally, and he towered over her, just like everyone else. Her lack of height was really not an advantage.
"It must be hard, training with the glaives and the Marshal out there in the heat today," She prattled on. Why was she engaging him in conversation? The poor thing looked like a deer in the headlights, and she had business to attend to in her office. Plus, Griseo was probably whining for lunch. He was a Messenger, sure, and could technically travel the astral plane anywhere he wanted, and help himself to anything he wanted. But she had asked him to be on his best behavior while they were here, and he was obliging… so far.
"Y-yeah, real hard," He swallowed hard, and it sounded painful. "And hot." He was looking all around, trying not to meet her gaze. "I'm Prompto. Um. P-Prompto Argentum."
"Nice to meet you, Prompto Argentum," She laughed. She appreciated his innocence; he was a welcome change from the likes of the young Crownsguard and Glaives who had already asked her to drinks or a movie. "I'm Inertia."
"Yeah, you're like, the only other girl I've seen wear white besides the Oracle," He stammered. The way he bit his lip was precious.
"Well, I'm a representative of House Nox Fleuret, so…" She winked. He didn't seem to catch on. She hoped he knew she was just teasing him.
"Yeah, um," He was squeezing the bandana like his life depended on it, and he rushed to step out of her way suddenly. "Sorry, were you trying to get a drink?" Finally, she was catching on; maybe she didn't intimidate him because she was noble, but because he thought she was pretty. She wished that were true.
"Oh, no," She smiled at him, at the way he seemed itchy when she looked at him, at the way he didn't seem comfortable in his skin. He was refreshing, after all the pretentious high-brows she had to deal with every day. And if it wasn't white collars, it was arrogant soldiers who thought they were superior simply because of their prowess in combat. Either way, entitlement didn't appeal to her in the slightest. "My office is down here, I was just coming back from lunch."
"Oh, lunch…food…heh.." He trailed off. The poor thing was probably starving; she knew Cor wouldn't let them eat until after their training was finished. He was a hardass like that.
"So, um, what weapon is it that you wield?" She continued. Why was she asking him that? She knew he'd never fought before. But something about him impelled her to keep speaking. She liked the sound of his voice, and the way he looked at her.
"Uh, I'm…" He stopped, only for a second. "I'm a gunslinger." Newfound confidence overtook him, and she raised a brow, impressed. So, Cor was teaching him to shoot? Certainly an interesting choice; it was probably easier than trying to teach him the sword in so little time.
"Oh?" She encouraged him. "Are you very good?"
"I never miss," He beamed down at her. She wanted to laugh; she knew that wasn't true. She knew he had just started his training. But that smile was worth a million gil, and it made her stomach do somersaults. Thankfully, a voice rang out from the training grounds before she could blush and make a fool of herself.
"ARGENTUM! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!" Cor. It had to be.
"Uh," He looked towards where the voice had echoed. "That's my cue."
"Duty calls," She said sadly. She wanted to keep talking to this boy, this boy who was so genuine and without pretense and made her forget all the responsibilities she had to tend to.
"I'll see you later, Inertia!" He waved awkwardly as he turned to sprint off, and she waved back. She waited until he was out of earshot before fingering the charm bracelet on her wrist.
"I hope so, Argentum."
Ignis hadn't had dinner with them the night before, and now he was giving them leftovers!?
"What's the big idea, Specs?" Prompto narrowed his eyes at him, eyeballing the veggie stew in front of him. "You flake on his yesterday, you give us leftovers today, AND IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ANY MEAT IN IT!?"
"My apologies," Ignis said. He didn't really mean it, Prompto could tell. "I've been a little preoccupied of late."
"Everything good, Specky?" Noctis asked, taking a slurp of his stew. Ignis visibly shuddered; Specs he tolerated. Specky, he loathed.
"Yeah, what's up with you, man?" Gladio was dipping bread into his stew, seemingly not upset at all with what they were having. "You seem a little out of it."
"I'm merely tired," He sighed, standing in the kitchen to eat his own meal, holding the bowl to his face. Noct had four seats in his apartment, but Ignis didn't seem to want to partake in their usual evening banter. That wasn't like him at all.
"Tell me about it," Prompto tried to lighten the mood, digging into his stew. He probably shouldn't have given the guy such flak; it was still delicious. Even if it didn't have meat. "My arms feel like noodles, I can't even feel my face."
"It's been 2 days of training, Prompto," Noctis looked at him, disbelieving. But there was a hint of laughter in his eye.
"I probably won't survive to Altissia, Noct," He shrugged. "Go on without me!" He feigned fainting, falling into Noctis's shoulder, making him laugh.
"Alright, kids, settle down," Gladio shook his head. "Prompto, you're doing better than you think, I'll give you credit."
"Am I?" He wondered aloud. "Cor probably won't even let me shoot the gun before we set out for Altissia."
"Are you still upset about that?" Noctis groaned. "It's been 2 days, man. He's gonna let you shoot the gun."
"And just think," Ignis reassured him, perking up a little, finally. "If he doesn't allow you to shoot the gun, you can still shoot your camera."
"Yeah, just blind 'em to death like last time," Gladiolus punched him in the shoulder - he would never get used to a punch in the shoulder from a guy as big as Gladio. He rubbed at it a little, laughing with the rest of his friends.
"Yeah, yeah," He shoved more stew in his mouth. "Thanks, guys."
Inertia was typing away at her computer, finishing up her notes for the day. She hadn't made much headway in any direction, but still, the nature of her job required her to annotate everything, even the seemingly worthless details. She was bored, and uneasy, and hadn't heard back from Lunafreya since two nights ago, when she'd told her she would be careful. Not even had she heard from her in her official email, where they could discuss things that could be looked upon by Imperial eyes; originally, their tapping into communications was inconvenient, but they were so used to it now, it didn't seem to matter.
She was restless, and anxious, and she needed to do something besides sit in her dreary, empty office, waiting to hear back from Luna.
She stood and stretched, wondering where Griseo had gotten off to. He wasn't in the apartment or the office, and she was sure he was making trouble somewhere for somebody. She laughed to herself, and grabbed a spare change of clothes from the closet.
She was required to wear white in service of House Nox Fleuret, but the dresses she had to don weren't the best for moving around in. If she wanted to get some training in - which she did - she would need something more flexible.
After sporting her workout attire, she made off for the training grounds. It was dark out now, and the Glaives had finished up for the day. The Crownsguard trained over in the West Wing, so she needn't worry about them, either.
She passed a few attendants in the hall, a couple Glaives, and even some servants headed for the gym to hit the treadmill. When they tried to direct her towards it - because she was going the wrong way - she thanked them, and assured them she merely needed to use the bathroom first. No one expected the Oracle's lady-in-waiting to prefer to exercise on a combat field than in a gymnasium.
Once out in the night air, she took in the view, the dusty field lit up with stadium lights that illuminated the field. She didn't like that; she didn't want to risk the chance of being seen. But here was safer than anywhere else in the Crown city, where any number of citizens could espy her in the middle of her martial training.
No. Here would have to do.
The portico surrounding the field on three sides was lined with glass windows, which didn't allot her much privacy. But she figured, the grounds were so large, one might not think much of it if a stray Glaive were out practicing at this hour. No one would recognize her from so far away; and Glaives were expected to warp-strike, since they were blessed with the power of the king.
She tossed her braid behind her shoulder, not wanting to catch it in the crossfire. Flicking her wrist, she unfolded her shuriken from thin air. She watched as it materialized, blue and crystalline, against the darkness of the night. It had been so long since she'd summoned anything from the Armiger. And so long since she'd practiced with her shuriken.
She'd originally been trained in daggers as a child, but Ravus had seen to it to destroy that for her.
Scoffing at the memory, she hurled the shuriken away from her like a frisbee. As if on cue, it pivoted at the edge of the clearing and rounded back to her. Good. She hadn't lost her touch. She caught it in her hand effortlessly, missing the serrated edges of its blades and landing it between her fingers at just the right spot.
This time, she flicked it forward like one would a bowling ball, watching it tumble across the dirt in a sublime fashion, flicking immediately backwards and back to her. It hurled itself upwards, and she caught it again, just narrowly missing her face.
A little rusty.
Considering her options, she threw the thing towards the nearest tree branch, severing it in half before it made its way back to her. The branch hit the ground; she'd chosen a skinny thing specifically so it wouldn't make much noise.
Now she was getting somewhere.
Securing her grip on the shuriken, she didn't toss it away this time, instead criss-crossing her body with the thing, slashing at the night air. She allowed it to cross her body, familiarizing herself again with the way it felt to move with her weapon as one, to allow it to become an extension of herself rather than a tool she used at her convenience. She tried to memorize the way her torso torqued itself as she swung, the way her feet shifted her weight just right to allow her the farthest reach, the way her breathing enhanced her strength, or took it away. Just when she was through with her trial, she whisked it around her head to fly past her shoulder, intending for it to make a full circle as though she were surrounded by enemies.
The sound of someone catching steel on a dime interrupted the music of its arc.
Alarmed, she looked to where the sound had come from.
A large figure stood at the edge of the training grounds, holding her shuriken in a strong hand.
"We need to talk," Cor spat.