Mystic: Okay, flashback time over. Back to the regularly scheduled plot. Treno! And Sir David's back again! (coughcoughDavidTennantcough)

The Summons

Kuja never woke up early when he visited Treno. Due to the long-lasting parties or late-night opera performances, sleep started long past the classic witching hour, and ended shortly after late morning. Coffee houses and cafes made large amounts of gil catering to their hung over patrons. The most famous shoppe in the city stood quietly on the border of noble and peasant homes, offered a double-shot concoction of caffeine and sugar syrup at a very fair price. Nothing else cured the minor headache and fatigue that plagued a sorcerer and his equally groggy mistress.

He shifted to his side, buried his face in strands of tangled blonde hair. Slumber did not return to him, but he was more than content to relax away the morning in bed. Hilda moaned softly, still didn't stir. Not the first female to grace his side at such an hour, but easily the most magical and witty. Mayhap that maid of hers would be willing to walk down the street and purchase a few cups of a double-shot coffee.

Well, now was as good a time as any to get over her fear of traveling alone. Kuja knew the reason for her phobia, understood it, but at the moment didn't really care. He was not about to escort the maid himself and, if she truly did have white magic in her blood, she would have a rudimentary (and pathetically weak) Holy at her fingertips. A white mage's cloak hung somewhere in his closet; that and a small staff offered a decent warning to potential attackers. (Which, unfortunately, Treno had plenty of due to alcohol-warping, angry men who couldn't afford even the cheapest of street-walker.)

As the sorcerer considered his options; namely, remain in bed with his lover or wake the fearful maidservant, a knock resounded on the bedchamber door. Groaning and scowling, he very reluctantly left Hilda's form and grabbed a robe for decency's sake. A smiling Freema appreciated it greatly. "Good morning, my lord. Coffee?" She offered a prize of smooth drink blended with cream. Two hot cups balanced on a tray in her hands. "There's this brilliant little shoppe between the noble and peasant houses. The prices were fantastic."

Kuja blinked, rubbed his eyes. "Thank you, Freema. Very well done." After a comforting sip, his mind fully comprehended the circumstances. "Did you go out yourself without an escort?"

Freema gave a smug grin. "It was stupid that I didn't think about it before. I found this chastity belt in your closet."

"What were you doing rummaging about in my closet?"

"Looking for more wine," she answered with a shrug. "Sorry. Lady Hilda never let me handle the drinks back in Lindblum."

"Goodness girl; I couldn't imagine why."

"Is it just me or is this thing laced with a thunder spell? Anyway, it feels great everytime I take a step."

Kuja chose a poor moment to take another sip of his coffee. His eyes glanced around toward the bed; Hilda chuckled into her pillow before rolling to her back and adjusting the comforter. "I knew I left that chastity belt somewhere, Kuja." She sighed happily, hands by her head. "If you like, Freema, I'll add a water spell to it for more walking pleasure."

"You mean, it feels even better if it's wet?"

"Naturally," said Kuja. "But we'll let Senator Noel explain that in further detail." He took the second cup of coffee off the tray. "Do you have a drink for yourself, Freema?"

"Oh, yes, my lord. The couple behind the counter was very friendly." With the tray empty, she tucked it under her arm. "They even offered me a position as a barista."

Hilda chuckled again, sat up against the pillows with the comforter draped delicately over her curves. "This is Treno, dear. You'd be dallying in positions far more risqué than brewing coffee to customers."

"Well, I turned down their offer anyway."

Kuja grinned. "A wise decision on your part. Save your energy for the senator." At her faint blush, he started to shoo her out of his chamber. "Thank you, Freema; your work is very appreciated. Now go clean up whatever mess you made."

She nodded, left the lord and lady to their lonesome. The latter smiled softly, fatigue still clinging to her features. "Nice to see the old chastity belt being used properly, though I hoped to pass it along to Eiko one day."

Kuja winced, very much uncomfortable with the topic. "I taught you Ultima, lady. Isn't that enough of a deterrent?"

"Have you taught Eiko Ultima?"

"No, but I probably should." He handed her a coffee before re-joining her on the bed. "That summoner has quite a bit of talent. Such a shame I didn't catch it before."

His mistress inhaled the sweet scent of the drink. "Memories, Kuja. Such delicious memories." One sip brought her bliss of creamy proportions. "You purchased coffee for me on our last journey here."

"Promise me something, Hilda."

"I'm both intrigued and fearful." But thankfully more alert.

"You are not allowed to wear the chastity belt anymore." It was scary enough when she laced the device with a thunder (and sometimes water) spell, but it was also specifically designed with pointed metal teeth. Kuja almost used a flare star on the ...thing when he found it tucked away in his closet after his messy conversion. "Not like I didn't know a way around it back then."

Hilda rolled her eyes at his arrogance, made worse after a night of passion. "Of course, sweetie. If anyone can wrestle away a chastity belt, it'd be you." Nobody else made coffee this delicious. She forgot how much she missed it back in Lindblum.

"Lady, don't humor me. It's too early for that."

"But not too early for a bath?" She even batted her eyelashes.

"You know where my bath house lies," he said with a wave of his hand. "I shall join you." Because no man of sound mind would ever miss the opportunity to gaze upon a woman while she relaxed in warm water and flowery soap. Kuja's mind created sounds of symphony and operatic harmony.

Freema found herself alone again in the manor house, eating a simple breakfast of fresh fruit with cream. The sorcerer prevented any further attempt at wine-tasting by sealing off his cellar with a dangerous chant. White magic or otherwise, the servant girl did not dare touch the door. So she performed her usual tasks after breakfast; the countertops required a wipe down, the floors needed swept, and dishes washed and put away.

It was while drying the last bowl did she sense the odd aura of enemy spells. The aura was strong; yes, but strangely friendly and almost ...fun? Alright, not the best way to describe it, but Freema never did spend much time outside the Lindblum palace walls. The only other mage in her line of vision was her lady (and now Kuja). Strange, friendly, enemy ... ah! A blue mage. She straightened her apron before answering the knock at the door.

"Ah, hello," said the guest. "I'm a noble." Then he gave a cheeky grin, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Freema eyed him up and down a second. Pinstripe suit, sideburns, brown hair all sticky-uppy. "Are you Sir David?" she asked.

"The one and only." His grin refused to go away. "Lord Kuja and Lady Hilda around? Got a surprise for them -well, a letter."

"They're at the bath house."

"Oh, well; what better way to spend the morning. I myself had to calm down a moogle. Have you ever had to calm down a moogle?" Sir David waltzed into the home, hands still in his pockets, much to the dismay of a wide-eyed servant girl. "Poor thing heard things not meant to be heard. Then my little boy coughed and wheezed in its face."

Freema stared at him, blinking. "You're completely mad."

He stared back. "I'm not shouting, am I?"

"No..."

"Well," he shrugged. "I'm sitting out on my balcony with my sick son, my mistress and daughters out in the garden when this terrified little moogle flies up and starts rambling about grunts and groans in the household of Lord Kuja. He thinks someone's hurt until the sounds get a tad more sexy."

Freema gasped, started chuckling behind her hand. "Oh, no! The moogle heard them during -"

"Yeeeaaahh..." David scratched the back of his head. "Anyway, he hands me a summons meant for them and orders me to deliver it. I try not to anger moogles because I had one threaten me with a knife and no one likes to anger something cute who likes to play with sharp knives. Well, he said he was sharpening it."

If Freema were tied down and forced to describe the personality of this particular nobleman, she'd claim him as a skinny idiot who liked to ramble and describe anything in his line of vision. "And this summons is?" she trailed off, praying he took the hint.

David took it and grinned at it. "Here you go. All proper and with a royal seal; I like royal seals." Blue magery; it had to be. From the thinnest of trouser pockets emerged a large, rectangular envelope stamped with a wax seal upon which lay a swirled 'A'.

"How did that fit in your pants, sir?"

He winked. "Bigger on the inside."

Fresh, clean, and a little less achy, Lady Hilda sat beside the grand table in Kuja's home. Her sharp eyes scanned the letter, its message written in delicate black ink. Kuja, leaning over his lover's shoulders, recognized the penmanship almost immediately. "The canary is requesting us, is she not?"

"She is," said Hilda, hands on her chin. "An informal audience. Most likely hoping to confirm or deny the many rumors swirling about Lindblum."

"The queen will want clarification, nothing more. It's my brother who wants the gossip." Kuja looked over at Freema, who carefully inspected the envelope. "Sir David created a new class of blue magic, girl. It'd do you no good to attempt to figure it out."

"Have you tried to make sense of it?" she queried.

The sorcerer gave an undignified snort. "He came to me for assistance."

"I should have realized his spells had your hand written all over it." Hilda folded the letter of her niece back into thirds. "And why do I suspect that you'll send me over to his household the moment your two hearts stop?"

"Because I will," the sorcerer said, flicking back his hair. "If Mistress Joan is still around, you'll be transferred to the home of his cousin."

Instead of a scowl of displeasure or insult, Hilda smiled warmly, one of acceptance. "Sir Matthew," she teased. "Of course; he escorted me to a masquerade once. That mage was always so upset he wasn't born a ginger. And thinks fezzes are, for lack of better words, cool."

Freema glanced up. "They're not?"

"Dear me, no."

"My lady, if you don't mind me asking." The girl hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually found her words. "If you were to die first, what of Lord Kuja?"

He grimaced. "Highly unlikely."

"But not improbable," said Hilda. "I cannot conjure an oglop spell while buried in the ground, so Kuja is free to receive another female's company. Just be certain she's powerful enough to keep you in line."

"Watch what you say, lady."

"It's not wise for you to live alone, sweetie." Pet names tended to soften the blow of harsh or blunt words. "You need someone to hold you back."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then you must better keep me occupied."

Freema wisely decided to stay out of the conversation and fold towels instead.