Fangs of the Exiles
Rated M
Rwby
Summary:
Life is not about what happens to you, but what you make of it... At least that's what everyone says. Two faunus will answer whose way is right, carrying the will of a titanic kingdom while the other, the spirit of one who shouldn't exist. Forgotten, their paths will cross, for better or worse.
A/N:
Chapter 38: Guts vs Glory-1
Aganju exhaled sharply, following close behind the redhead, his chest tightening as he tried to ignore the many stares pointed at him.
His skin crawled as he fought to keep his gaze on Pyrrha. The murmurs made his right ear twitch violently, the only visible expression of his disdain toward the human onlookers. In truth, he didn't mean for such a careless idea, but the circumstances surrounding him managed to pull out such a dark view to escape reality.
They were once again traversing the kingdom of Mistral.
As they climbed higher up the mountain kingdom, Aganju felt increasingly annoyed by the whispers and looks directed towards him. Whenever he caught someone staring, he noticed that noblemen would give him dirty looks, silently making it clear that he was not welcome among them. The women weren't any better, eyeing him up like a piece of meat. Even some of the faunus, merchants, and thralls couldn't help but gawk at the sight of a vulpine in the princess's company. Aganju wasn't sure which was worse, but he didn't care to find out.
After the destruction of the faunus ranch, this was the last place he wanted to be...
Monsters... he mutely swore.
"Are you alright?" Pyrrha's voice tore him from his internal turbulence.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's alright to be unnerved by their stares..." she replied, slowing down to match his trudging. "We both recognize the looks trained at us. I'm not foolish enough to think that they approve of our camaraderie. In their eyes, I am an angel in the company of a demon, a sentiment I do not agree with, mind you."
"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before," he frowned, shrugging at the princess' attempt at saving face. "Of course, it's not every day that someone in rags is out and about on the upper levels, or so I've heard."
He half expected the royal to scold him for speaking so casually to her, but, she only giggled at his observation.
"I agree," she replied smoothly. "Which is why I brought you here in the first place."
Aganju raised an eyebrow; his brain racing to try and figure out what she meant. Thankfully, Pyrrha wouldn't leave him to ride the wave of suspense building around them.
"You needn't worry. Once we complete this mission, we can focus on leaving," she pivoted on her toes, taking backward strides in front of the faunus with a tender grin; such virtue once again caught him off-guard. A warmth crept along his cheeks, fortunate that the princess resumed her leading to wherever they were headed. "Here we are!"
As they stopped, the vulpine frowned in confusion as he shifted his gaze to a large building.
His perplexing stare didn't last long, however, replaced by his long ears drooping. His face twisted in horror while hers lit up with delight as they both read the sign of the shop: The Silver Plume. If that wasn't clear enough to him, the image of clothing on the sign confirmed his suspicion.
"Shopping...?" he dropped his head in defeat, his tail tucking while Pyrrha enthusiastically seized his arm to drag him inside.
Valentin and Persephone were standing in the banquet hall, looking worried. Despite being surrounded by their closest and dearest friends, the room was filled with laughter and cheer, and upbeat music shrouded the guests. Faunus helpers were serving food and drinks gracefully, while guards were stationed at nearly every door to ensure their safety. This was the epitome of safety and class; even Atlas would have to acknowledge their efforts.
Yet, even with all of this, the king and queen of Argus couldn't shake the discomfort that ravaged their core. They both knew why they felt this way despite the festivities. Amidst the merriment, the guest of honor was nowhere to be found.
"Dear, are you certain you told her the right time?" The queen whispered behind her glass. Her eyes shifted rapidly through the sea of partygoers, desperately searching for her offspring. "Perhaps she overslept? She's been out and about more than usual since we've arrived here."
"I assure you, beloved..." the patriarch lowly gnarred through grit teeth, his smile forced and threatening to cleave his features in two. "Our rambunctious daughter was given the proper time. She's probably arriving fashionably late in protest of another suitor."
The queen let out a deep sigh at his reply, certain that by now the man would have broken a blood vessel. While she wasn't officially of marrying age, she was aware that suitors were fighting for her child's hand, so she kind of expected this. Naturally, Pyrrha was not amused by the declaration and made every effort to oppose her father to the greatest extent that was humanly feasible. Generally, Persephone would avoid these discussions, but if she was being truly honest with herself, she would rather see her daughter choose her route.
But her husband was the complete opposite—a domineering father who could destroy with a single word, as well as someone with rank and authority. Those under his authority obeyed all of his orders without fail, even at the risk of dire consequences. Therefore, one could only speculate as to how someone in such a position of authority would respond if his child questioned his assertions.
Persephone loved her husband and king, but even she knew that he could be overbearing, a trait that she dreaded would result in a major rift between the two.
"I'm sure she'll be..." her attempt at pacifying him was cut short when she noticed some shifting amongst the crowd. "...fashionably late."
"Ladies & gentlemen!" a servant called, silencing those in attendance. "It is with honor that I introduce, Princess Pyrrha and her guest!"
When they parted, there was no hiding the redhead, looking stunning in a dress trimmed in gold and white. But it was the other guest—not her attire—who set off the whispers. People were shocked to see her with a well-dressed faunus instead of her intended beau, Ashton Grayskull, as many had expected. The same could be said of the king and queen, who each had a different expression on their faces as they passed by the large crowd.
Not only that, but Pyrrha allowed her arm to comfortably interlock with her plus-1s, the latter visibly uneasy at the stares directed at them. Gesturing a smile that was the epitome of defiance, she approached her parents with an increasing sense of self-assurance, which she knew was slowly eroding.
"Father. Mother," she bowed respectfully while the fox mirrored her actions shortly after. "I apologize for our tardiness."
A none-too-pleased Valentin glared at the pair, boiling anger simmering at the moment. He had half a mind to reprimand the girl but was interrupted by his amused queen stepping between them.
"We are pleased to see that you are safe, Pyrrha! Oum and the brothers know we were concerned for your well-being," she warmly smiled before turning her attention to faunus who kept his eyes glued to the ground. Whether out of reverence or fear, his eyes never left his feet even when they both stood upright. "Are you going to introduce us to your... guest?"
Pyrrha blushed and nodded.
"Of course! May I introduce my vassal, Aganju? We met during my time in Garneta and his battle prowess is unmatched, if I do say so."
Vassal, huh? he couldn't help but laugh inwardly at her preferred alias for him.
To everyone's surprise, Valentin shook his head but offered no commentary on this revelation. That being said, his glower said more than words could. The monarch examined the faunus, just like his spouse, but he did so with a great deal of prejudice and a dash of intrigue.
His unusual dual features—his tail and ears—were the most striking. He deduced from the scars he had visible around his neck beneath his black and emerald-trimmed suit that this man was a warrior who had undoubtedly experienced bloodshed and combat.
"Gaze upon me, Vassal..." he instructed the vulpine.
The foxes' reluctance was foreseen, but what he saw sent a bite throughout his spine. While one eye was a vibrant green, the other looked like a lake of corruption swimming around a sanguine pool; darkness the likes he'd never witnessed before. His discomfort went unnoticed while he cleared his throat.
"I trust that you are prepared to safeguard my daughter from all forms of peril, even at the cost of your own life? Are you willing to put your desires aside to ensure the princess is protected?"
Aganju's tail stiffened slightly as the bloodlust threatened to take command. A thousand times over, in his mind's eye, he had mercilessly executed the king. But such primitive cravings would not prevail over the fox. He was well aware that it was bait, and he was not going to bite. Instead, he took a slow inhale before responding.
"The honor of shielding the princess from the dangers of the world is not lost to me..." he willfully lied, feeling bile beginning to rise in his throat. "...I am a humble weapon dedicated to her wisdom and prowess. I answer to hers and ONLY her resolve."
Even with such a professional response, both men saw through the thinly disguised veil. Only the same level of hubris could respond to such arrogance; it was a sign of defiance that many people would miss if they didn't know where to look. Even so, receiving such an answer from anyone—let alone a faunus—was like lighting a powder keg.
But how would the royal respond to such rebellion?
"BWAHAHA!" The king erupted in a fit of laughter, a sign that allowed the hushed people to return to their pleasures. "I should expect nothing less. It appears that I've underestimated the fire in this one. You truly are a perfect match as my daughter's subordinate."
"Thank you... Your Highness."
The wave of condescendence wasn't going to die out without some intervention. Persephone decided to be that intrusion if only to avoid a scene.
"So, Aganju, I'd love to hear about your exploits!" she placed a hand on his back to lead him away from the incoming ire. It was merely an excuse, but one that served its purpose.
Pyrrha and her father were left alone to face the reality of what had just happened. As soon as his wife and the faunus disappeared, Pyrrha's father's expression changed from joy to a deep scowl.
"A word, daughter..."
As the queen made her way to an outside balcony, Aganju trailed closely behind. The crisp night air felt incredibly rejuvenating as if its kiss could dissolve his worries. Persephone appeared to recognize his emotions as well, inhaling deeply while staring at the broken moon's rays falling on the mountain below.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she finally broke the silence.
"I... It's hard to put into words."
Queen Persephone turned to find his face twisted not in anger but in conflict.
"I agree. Though we see its magnificence, the truth of such splendor is difficult to fully comprehend. Even the brightest scholars and poets can only log a mere fragment of her brilliance."
Aganju haphazardly nodded.
Upon reflection, she observed a noticeable distance between them, indicating his unease with the current circumstances. His once fiery and commanding gaze had diminished to no more than flickering embers, seemingly reluctant to meet hers. The male's demeanor remained an enigma, only a select few ever truly comprehending his complexities. In contrast, her gaze conveyed a sense of composure and empathy, embodying patience and understanding.
"It's quite alright for you to draw closer, young man."
Aganju desired to think that her remarks were a trick. A set-up was unavoidable. Yes, Pyrrha has always been sincere, but could the Queen be granted the same benefit?
She was the wife of a man known for slaughtering more faunus than entire units on the battlefield. Trying to think of what to do, he started to fidget a little. There was a strange part of him that was relieved that everything he had been taught about humans was coming under scrutiny.
"Is something wrong?" she inquired, a tone not unlike his mother's resonating with his soul.
"I... I don't want to speak out of turn."
"Then speak freely, young man" she offered. "It's only you and I."
"I... I don't belong here" he admitted, puzzling the royal.
"If it makes you feel any better, I know how you feel," she simpered, gazing at the moon once again. "Honestly, I'd rather be back at Argus curling up with a good book by the fireplace, and yet, I'm here entertaining a bunch of nobles whom I have nothing in common with."
Aganju stared at the queen, puzzled.
"I assumed all royal types thought alike?"
"Well, I guess that would be a typical perception. I suppose it's a good thing that my life wasn't initially set on this path."
"I don't follow," he slowly neared the marble banister, curiosity temporarily conquering his caution. "Are you saying that you're not a noble by birth?"
Persephone giggled as the evening breeze caressed her face.
"Smart and attractive. My daughter has impeccable taste in... vassals. You're correct, I'm not what many would consider a noble-born. I won't bore you with the details though, especially when your story is far more interesting. Unlike my husband, I don't share certain... views on faunus that he does."
"Thank you..." Aganju muttered, awkwardly wondering where things were going.
"I am also not blind to the machinations of the princess either," her words were like honey, but the faunus was privy to the knowing tone hidden within.
"Excuse me?"
"We both know that you're more than a mere servant," her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it's your fighting spirit that's seduced her? While I'm no expert like my husband or daughter, I recognize a warrior before me. Whatever exploits my daughter has roped you into, I wonder..."
"Are you suggesting that she's plotting something?"
"
Aganju felt his mouth go dry as he witnessed the woman verbally undressing him. While he expected suspicion from Pyrrha's father, never in a million years did he expect to receive this energy from the quiet and friendly queen.
How much does she know?!
"Not at all!" Persephone's tone immediately shifted back to her upbeat tone. "But, taking into account the way you both arrived, as well as the way she introduced you, I find it difficult to think of you as a mere slave in any capacity."
"My Queen!" a royal envoy spoke, drawing both of their attention. "The king and princess have concluded their discussion and are eagerly awaiting your return. Lord Ashton has arrived to discuss arrangements."
"Arrangements?"
The two ended their talk and followed the servant, a female rat faunus, closely. Though that luxury was short-lived once they entered the room again, the walk back to the banquet hall was silent but much more comfortable than before. The faunus became agitated as all eyes were fixed on the two. He quickly casts a glance at the Nikos family matriarch, who appears to be just as irritated by the stares as he was, despite her ability to maintain her composure being far superior.
One such gaze came from the pompous Ashton.
He was not as muscular as the faunus had anticipated; instead, he was a fairly spindly young man. His fluffy brown hair cascaded down his face in perfect symmetry, complementing his ash-blue eyes; a relic of a life gone by. The fox's stomach twisted as though he had been inhaling poisonous fumes, all thanks to his arrogant grin, status, and sense of entitlement. It makes sense that Pyrrha would go to such lengths to beg for his help if this was the person who was trying to grab her hand.
"Queen Persephone!" he greeted with a dashing grin, serving to unsettle the pair. "It is so good to see you once again! I was beginning to worry that you had fallen ill."
"Thank you, Ashton," she forced a smile, a sign that wasn't missed by the Aganju. "I was just out enjoying some fresh air and conversation with good company."
The faunus turned away from the gracious woman as her remark caused a flush on his dark skin. Ashton gave the man a respectful bow, and as soon as he saw him, his smug, regal smile turned into a straight line. There was nothing even somewhat 'good' about this faunus, from his basic suit to his messily-tied hair. Behind his eyes, there was a look of bewilderment, but his expression was soft and concealed contempt.
What was admirable about a lowly being for someone of royal status?
"Ah! So, you're the vassal that Princess Pyrrha mentioned, I presume?" his cockiness dripped from every word, flashing a condescending glare along with his phony smirk. "Word of your exploits in the lower ring appears to be perceived as something of a great feat, almost legendary."
"I wouldn't exactly use the word legendary..."
"On that we agree," the pretty boy cut in, earning a threatening glare for his troubles. "The musings of your exploits as a gladiator can be... overhyped by those unaccustomed to the upper league's champions. Spilling blood can have that effect on the simple-minded, correct?"
If it wasn't apparent before, Aston was certain that his point was made. He cared little for the feelings of his inferior as evident by his shit-eating grin growing larger.
"It's quite clear that the level of opposition in the lower rings is nothing compared to the level of the Cavalier League if you could call that blood sport anything other than a barbaric way to charge people to witness public executions, not that the world isn't better off."
The pretty boy's mockery was burning a hole deep inside Aganju. What would he know about the trials and tribulations of survival?! Even worse, there were innocent people compelled to fight who ultimately lost their lives. Every word that was said was true; it wasn't a lie. No, it was his haughtiness and indifference toward the vulpine's departed family members.
Although it was hardly unexpected, his feelings remained unchanged.
Just like his response.
"I respect your opinion," Aganju smirked at the vain patrician. "While I agree that the gore may not be to one's liking, I wouldn't expect you to understand the gems of such an underrated environment."
"Oh? Do tell."
"You're correct in stating that the upper league produces the most skilled and strategically sound champions, but what good are those qualities if they're attached to a spineless husk?"
"Spineless?!" Ashton's outburst drew the eyes and ears of onlookers nearby. "How dare you...?"
"In the lower ring, there is only one rule: Survive. Anything else is either a bonus or a hindrance. Technique matters little when dodging the swipe of a rusty blade. I've witnessed my opponents, some proficient in weaponry and others who were fallen members of your association, lose their lives because of one grueling truth."
Aganju could see a vein begin to bulge on the neck of Ashton while Pyrrha watched with growing interest. This visible rattling was enough to convince him to continue.
"They lacked the warrior's spirit; That drive to live even when your body screams for you to let go. You profess that fighting in the upper league is credit to a champion's mettle, but I say that it is nothing more than a circus, filled with well-armored cowards quarreling for glory and recognition. We had a saying in the arena: If you want to be coddled, fight in the upper league. If you want to see real combatants, step into our world."
Given the tense atmosphere, King Nikos found this little exchange entertaining, impressive even. He knew that Ashton was considered brash, to put it mildly, but it was the restraint of the faunus that truly kept him in anticipation. The air between them was palpable, threatening to ruin the festivities as more eyes became drawn to the staredown; Human and faunus locked now in silent combat.
"Alright... That's quite enough," the monarch stepped in, still chuckling at the exchange. "You both will have plenty of time to settle things in the coming days. With the terms discussed between my daughter and me, it has been agreed upon that her future will rest in your hands."
Neither Aston nor Aganju removed their glares from the others, even when the bulky man stood between them. He then turned to the masses with a jubilant smile.
"Lord Ashton will do battle with my daughter's vassal to prove himself worthy of her hand in marriage! The champion of the upper league vs the undefeated master of death from the lower ring! Who will prevail as the ultimate champion? You are all invited to attend the contest tomorrow but, for now, please enjoy the banquet and eat your fill!"
Tomorrow?! Aganju's eyes shot wide at the declaration. Unbeknownst to him, Pyrrha had the same reaction.
"That is not what we discussed, father!" she fretted. The king paid her anger no mind, still retaining his wide grin. "We agreed on a week to make time for travel to Argus!"
"Yes, we did... But, I've just decided not to have the match at Argus."
"What?"
"The way I see things, Pyrrha," he remarked, his tone just loud enough for the immediate group to hear. "Why should we wait for such an epic contest between two warriors when we can have such a blessing bestowed in the greatest kingdom on Remnant? It would be criminal to deprive our subjects. Therefore, I've made the necessary changes needed to ensure the best outcome."
"You're stacking the deck," Pyrrha seethed.
"On the contrary, neither fighter has any knowledge of the other's style and, with their animosity, I simply thought it best to strike while the iron's hot."
"You're lying..."
"Whether you believe me or not, my decision is final."
Pyrrha could only shake her head at the finality of her father's tone.
She knew all too well that the man's motives were far from noble, it was his way when things seemed too far out of his control. Alessandro Nikos was a tactician first and foremost, a master of manipulation and strategy. She stormed away from her parents and Aston, and Aganju followed close behind.
The King and suitor appeared pleased with their deed, while a troubled Queen Persephone watched horrified.
Needless to say, the party continued without further hiccups.
"We have to leave now!" Pyrrha grunted, her eyes filled with a fury that rarely surfaced. At her pace, the pair had traversed several levels down the mountain to a space that was currently uninhabited. "With the party still going on, we can have a one-day head start to the western border."
"Princess?"
"There's not much time!" her voice quaked as she continued to press on down the otherwise quiet street.
"Princess..." Aganju jogged to match her speed.
"I mean, I knew my father wasn't going to play fair, but I never knew he'd resort to such an underhanded tactic like this!" she began to lament. "And that Ashton? He's just like everyone before who's come knocking on my family's door. There's no way I'm going to marry someone who just wants to use me as a meal ticket to further their status. I'd rather die...!"
"PYRRHA!"
"What?!" she fired back, tears brimming her eyes. To her surprise, Pyrrha found herself encircled in a warm cocoon of the fox's arms.
She didn't know what caused it, but she returned the hug, at last letting the tears of fear and frustration fall from her eyes. Being spotted was not a concern because the streets were deserted. Standing there on the silent passage in each other's arms, hierarchy and status were irrelevant. Time stood still as she buried her face into the faunus' chest. He didn't stop her, so she didn't go anywhere.
It took a few moments for them to pull apart as worry about what had happened now took the place of the grief that had just overwhelmed her. With such a personal display, neither of them was able to stop their faces from getting hot, and their silence didn't help. In the hopes that it would help him get over this uncomfortable feeling, Aganju faked a cough.
"Apologies..."
"No..." she wiped away the remaining stray streaks. "...There's no need for that. If anyone should feel that way, it should be me. I thank you..."
Aganju frowned softly, turning his head to hide the flush on his cheeks. After so long, he hadn't had an opportunity to express gentleness, even now, his mind trying to process such an act.
"It's... It's nothing. I just did my job as your vassal."
She was amazed to see him blush intensely when he averted his gaze, conflicted feelings radiating from him.
"Well, I appreciate you. It's a welcome sight to know a warrior's gentle side every once in a while."
Aganju flashed a glare only to hear a giggle pass her lips. In seconds, it shifted into a burst of laughter aimed at his unconvincing attempt at annoyance. Eventually, he too couldn't help but chuckle at his position, joining the royal. Neither knew it, but they both truly needed this after the tense exchange they'd endured.
"So, is it safe to assume you're feeling better now?" he crossed his arms, an elated grin now resting on his profile.
Pyrrha bowed her head, still feeling the residual effects of their mirth.
"Yes, thank you!" she beamed. "But, I would be remiss if I didn't ask why."
"Why?"
"Why did you suddenly do that though?"
Perplexed, Aganju gazed at her. He wasn't entirely sure why he did this thoughtless act at first. But what he observed made the truth clear. For a moment, he thought he was staring at her except she wasn't dressed for the occasion. Gone were the jewels and pageantry that she was expected to display, replaced by a fighter wearing a bright smile. In a flash, that image gave way to the concerned expression of the princess once more.
Because I swore to protect you back at...!
"I..." he rubbed his head, hiding the guilt and sorrow behind his eyes. "Seeing you like that reminded me of someone I knew before. I hated seeing her so broken and... I guess that feeling hasn't changed even now."
"Whatever she means to you, I'm happy to have but a taste of that softness. It's been a while since I've had that happen."
Aganju didn't respond to such a statement, but he did nod in agreement. It wasn't every day for him to display affection but, he had to admit that it felt nice, even if such an act was afforded to a human.
"Yeah, well... Don't expect it often," he rubbed his arms uncomfortably. "But you deserve someone who values you, not some pretentious ass. That's why we won't run away..."
Pyrrha suddenly felt her stomach drop at the reminder of their plight. She frowned deeply as her stomach tied itself in knots at the prospect of being tied to that nobleman. That wave of anxiety nearly drove her back to the point of contemplating running away. However, Aganju held up a hand to stop her before she could get the ball rolling.
"Don't worry, princess. I'm not going to let that happen."
"But..."
"But, nothing. You chose me because you believed that I was capable of handling this guy. Whether it was a week or a day, I'm confident that I'll win. I'm your vassal, right?" This time Pyrrha was the one to embrace him, much to his disdain. "Um... Princess?"
"Hold on..."
"What are you...?"
"You're mistaken to think that," she whispered. "To others, you may be my vassal, but hopefully, if things work out, I'd like to maybe be someone you'd consider a friend... Or more?"
Aganju looked at her dumbfoundedly. He needed to blink a few times to be sure that he wasn't just imagining things. She truly meant to hold up her end of the bargain by bringing him with her. His stomach began to flutter but, he needn't jump on her offer just yet, well... not completely, at least.
"It's possible," he rubbed his chin, scratching the stubble that'd appeared. "For now, I'd like to focus on the match tomorrow. I promise I won't lose to that prick."
Pyrrha didn't take offense to his deflection, instead, accepting his answer for now.
"Then we'd better get some rest. We'll need to be up early if we're going to be ready for the battle to come. Plus, we need to head back to the shop to pick up a weapon and your new clothes."
Aganju felt a shiver running down his spine at the idea of having to dress up again, but he was looking forward to receiving a signature weapon. However, he was not sure he would ever enjoy shopping for clothes, especially with Pyrrha's excitement. In the end, he found himself being pulled by his arm down the only road to the lower ring where his room was located, his mind focused on his mission.
All of that would be left behind to start anew, starting with Aganju's first goal: defeat Ashton Grayskull.