euchronia | 011 » we both know that things could get messy

Entry tags:

louis,
will

011 » we both know that things could get messy

fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.

[ Will rises to his feet.

Then he does a curious thing —

Still standing, he lifts one knee and plants his heel on Louis's shoulder.

Standing above him — stepping on him — he looks resplendent. Triumphant, domineering, dangerous. He could be haughty, spoiled, ignorant; the intelligent look in his eyes speaks instead of royal bearing, and power.

He looks every bit the rebellious spirit his mother was once rumored to be. ]

And after you had killed me, the king, and the Sanctifex? What then?

[ Louis does not flinch, nor does he allow the prince to more than nudge his shoulder back. he sits firm, with a hint of a smile on his face. there's an aspect of Count Louis that looks as if he's in control, even in an assertion of dominance.

the prince is a very commanding elda, certainly not a gift from the king, nor the elda themselves, fierce on their own secrecy. there is a spark in him. ]

What the ranks of my loyalists have followed me for, your majesty. Revolution.

[ but that seems to be all he'll say of it. for now, at least. ]

Though it seems as if the plan must be reassessed, as I have not, and will not, kill you. Perhaps you would do Forden the pleasure, and kill me instead.

[ while Louis does not expect to die here – nor would he take it passively if the prince made the move – he knows the extent of what he has done as treason. he could be prosecuted instead, and executed or exiled. ]

My life is in your hands.

[ ...

There is no fear in Louis's eyes. Nor does he falter at being treated so disdainfully. Clearly, he knows that Will has no intention of killing him. Yet it seems like there is more to this, too...

Will has no cause to suspect that the count is not what he seems — to all outward eyes, it does seem as though he surrendered after realizing that he was outmatched — but there is something... off about this. My life is in your hands, he says, obsequiously — and yet, Will knows that there is nothing submissive about this man's demeanor at all.

What to do with such a man? What to make of such an assassin? ]

...You and I both know full well that your life is in your own hands.

[ Will exhales and places his heel back on the ground. He anchors his blade back into the ground, where it was before this started. He reaches out, offers Louis his hand; he will offer his support, if Louis chooses to take it, rising back to his feet. ]

Count Louis.

[ The beautiful prince, shining with light, somehow radiant as he looks down at Louis and extends that small, delicate hand — almost laughable in the way that it won't support Louis's, in the way that Louis's hand would dwarf his completely — ]

What say you and I engage in a partnership instead?

[ a partnership with his would-be assassin, is it?

while Louis doesn't immediately take his hand as he rises, he does take it into his palm after he's on his feet. it becomes a signifier of their truce. Will doesn't have anything aside from Louis' word that he will no longer make an attempt on his life – likewise, Will could imprison him and tarnish his reputation, and then kill him, if he so desired.

though Louis is glad to see that the prince is of sharp mind, just as his blade. ]

A partnership from an impasse? Some may call you mad to collude with the man who came here to kill you. Still, I am curious.

[ he doesn't release his hand, not yet, anyway. ]

Perhaps it is revolution that you would see as well. I take it you'd like to lay out some terms.

[ of course, Louis isn't showing his full hand; of course, there's far more to this than first meets the eye. there are secrets that Louis is not ready to divulge, and a deeper matter as to the power of the Archetype. ]

[ The prince smiles. He adjusts their joined hands such that he is holding Louis's hand in his own, as the gallant knight would cradle a lady's hand; despite their difference in size, he gently lifts Louis's larger hand to his lips, touching them against his knuckles in a chaste kiss. It's an uncommon gesture — what does he mean to communicate by it? Certainly he is not on his knees, as a true knight would be; he has no intention of being subservient in this relationship. What, then, does he mean by this, past that enigmatic smile... ]

My terms, as you put it, are as follows...

[ The terms to which Louis Guiabern agreed were straightforward.

Neither he nor the prince were willing to show their hands or lay any more cards out on the table, that much was clear from their first meeting. But they had a common enemy — Forden — and that enemy was not one that either of them could reach at present. Forden is a man like any other man, who can die like any other man, but he's weaved arcane protections around himself, both magical and political. Some say he has the sway of the Saintess Rella on his side, and shields from all manner of clergymen; more importantly, the church and senate would not suffer the insult if Forden were simply to be killed. So other strategies must be wrought.

The prince, as it turns out, has been building an underground resistance against Forden for some time. The extent of this network, he was not willing to reveal to Louis; it could be much bigger or much smaller than what the count currently envisions. But it is big enough that the royal knights and guard captains are clearly part of it — and what's more, the prince wants to signal to Forden that Louis is now part of it as well.

Part of this, ostensibly, is simply to deter Forden's attempts at killing him. These attempts were at their worst when Will was a child, but now that he is a man grown, Forden seems to have realized that the window to kill him outright has closed. He could still do it, given the king's despondent lack of faith in the world and his likelihood to crumble if his son, the last precious thing in his life, were taken from him — but it is no longer the matter of killing a prized child so much as toppling a political foe. The prince now has enough allies in high places that it may not be worth the risk of angering them: some of them, like the Sanctoress Joanna, come from within Forden's own flock, complicating matters for him. And the crown jewel of this political network would surely be Louis, a man of respected military strength and valor —

— which is why Will, over the rejections and outbursts of his own loyal guardsmen, decides to make the grand gesture of appointing Louis as his personal knight.

It makes for a quiet ceremony, the prince gently tapping his blade across the shoulders of the beautiful clemar that has claimed the court's attention in recent months — but the political impact of the ceremony is loud. What it also accomplishes, secondly, is give Will and Louis reasons to be with each other at all hours of every day. On the one hand, it gives Louis every opportunity to kill Will again, should he ever desire it. On the other hand, it means any of Forden's assassins will know that they not only have to contend with the prince's own bladehand, but the magic of a man so widely feared that he is known as the Archmage.

As they leave the ceremony hall to retire to the prince's quarters, Will comments lightly: ]

You look so handsome in that uniform, Count Louis.

[ He... does seem fond of complimenting Louis on his looks from time to time. One almost wonders... but surely it is only the sort of flattery one offers whilst building a business relationship? ]

[ the prince's recruitment of Louis Guiabern is enough to surprise the upper clergy of the church – to rattle Forden – and to give a few days leeway of reprieve from religious zealots armed with the faith to pursue the eldan prince. it's a good move, Louis ponders as Grius settled a dagger-like glare on him – he ignores it, and he can't help but admire it. Louis is now responsible for Wilhelm's safety, and that meant that if Wilhelm died by his hand, or another hand, that he would bear the load of weight that came with such a failure. surely, either the king or Forden would put him to death if it were to occur, and be rid of him completely.

there is still danger in Louis Guiabern, though. he could kill the prince, the king and Forden as he had promised, usurp the throne – if that was his ambition – and topple the crown. there were whispers of dark magic in his experiments, made of a dark mind, though the soldiers that he had recruited seem well taken to him. two in particular, Basilio and Fidelio, are seen by his side quite often.

after his affront, Grius still advises the prince to be careful, that he's young, and he hardly knows what a man like Louis Guiabern is capable of it. perhaps the rumors are true, perhaps they're not, but Louis does not lend to them one way or another. in a world that bowed to authority, Louis does not seem to value anything but strength. ]

I did not know that the prince was prone to flattery – are there other secrets that you keep well and hidden behind these walls, your majesty?

[ still, there's something about Louis that his followers see in him, and it could be the way that he responds, as if the difference in their tribal backgrounds doesn't seem to matter. years of social conditioning seemed to have averted him in normal conversations. ]

Your bladework is one of them.

[ it also means he feels no consequence in being kind of sassy. ]

[ Their timing was excellent, Will reflects as he makes his way down the hall with Louis by his side. Alonzo, who has posed himself as a sort of minister for the church, tipped him off that Forden was planning another assassination attempt, one which has now been called off due to the sudden addition of Count Louis Guiabern to the young prince's ranks. Ostensibly, Louis still commands his own army, but to all outward eyes, his allegiance has now been declared.

Is Forden snake enough to call their bluff and expose this shaky truce for what it is? Will he attempt to slip himself into the prince's and count's uneasy alliance? Only time will tell, at this juncture — but Will doesn't think so. Forden has always seemed strangely afraid of Louis, faltering in places he would not falter if it were Will looking across at him from the chessboard.

All the more reason to keep Louis close. Will smiles. ]

Is that such a secret? I've never felt the need to hide it. It's more that everyone else has never felt the need to ask.

[ He has other secrets. Like the Archetypes, and his network, and the fact that men like Louis Guiabern are quite perfectly to his tastes. That being said, he thinks nothing of the fact that Louis addresses him as an equal, and not as a high-and-mighty clemar noble would address the lesser tribes. He knows well of Louis's personal policies, and the fact that the Magnus brothers, both paripus, seem to be his closest confidants. ]

I did attend certain parties in a veiled headdress, once or twice. Just to keep an air of intrigue about me, you understand... I think that was what led to the rumor that I have mustari heritage. Silly of them, really... My forehead was perfectly exposed.

[ it's not within Will's privy yet, but Louis, as a proud man, would rather stubbornly hold his own principles rather than give any leverage to Forden; his hatred for that man exceeds his own recklessness. he was quite willing to go to great lengths to both humiliate and destroy him, perhaps planning more than just a simple demise for the man.

it may not just be Louis that Forden fears, but the depths and capability of his fury. ]

Perhaps I've spoken too rashly. It's not your swordplay that's a secret, it's your presence entirely. Mustari, indeed. There's no need to conceal a fruit on a tree, if the tree itself is behind the walls of a grand garden, or beneath a veil.

[ though Louis is aware why they've stored Will away, the world is not kind to elda, nor would they be kind to the king. he's certain Forden would use it in his own schemes, but there's a hint of recklessness in Louis that seems to cling to a type of freedom.

and thus: ]

Is this of your own will? As your knight, I now serve your wishes.

[ something else that all of Will's knights and advisors would most likely object to, as well, was allowing the prince outside the walls of the palace. ]

[ The question seems to amuse Will faintly, as he smiles, lashes fluttering slightly as he lowers his gaze to his shoes for a moment. ]

Should I make my debut at the next gala? Walk down the palace steps with you on my arm — hornless and in full view of the gentry, with my stalwart clemar protector by my side?

[ A tempting thought. A lovely fantasty that would have gotten him killed when he was younger. But he has the advantage of age now, and a strong enough political base that any attempt to disappear the eldan prince on tribal grounds would no longer simply be accepted by the populace. Will raises one brow slightly as he finds that Louis's pace is matched to his despite the advantage of the general's longer legs, but he only maintains his sphinxlike smile. He sighs, allowing wistful memory to claim him for a moment. ]

...When I was younger, I did not understand why my father kept me hidden from public view. Now, alas, I understand his motivations all too well. But there will come a day when I force this country to look me in the eyes and acknowledge that an elda stands poised to claim the throne, I promise you that.

[ The young prince speaks forcefully, without a shred of doubt in his convictions — though, actually. Now that he thinks about it, maybe this is a good opportunity to make a rare public appearance and remove all doubt from the masses after all... ]

...Perhaps it should be the next gala. Forden is on his back foot — acting swiftly would pressure him further.

Edited 2025-08-25 04:32 (UTC)

[ the young prince certainly has a knack for theatre – Louis wondered if he had any less of charming personality that those in power would seek to discard him in another way. it's more difficult with a kingdom loves the crown, but an elda, well, it would be an up hill battle. Louis hasn't given up on his own ambitions, he still means to be king, but this is something that benefits him, and so he humors it for now.

a little chaos is good for the soul. ]

The elda had long hid themselves in fear of the Sanctists, and in that time the story of history has been obscured, and the masses divulging in the lies.

[ he doesn't say that Forden means to exploit that, but he doesn't have to. ]

You do not seem as if you want to succumb to the same fate. Perhaps more threats will come with your reveal, but it will be my responsibility to protect you. Both your current guard and senate will have a convenient scapegoat if that were to happen.

[ he tilts his head, still bright-eyed and somewhat detached, as he tends to be when he talks about the threats in the world that he will take down. ]

Regardless of Forden's response, as an elda, there is no need to live in fear, nor at the behest of your father. I meant every word of my oath: if anyone comes for your life, I will kill them. Act with that in mind.

And I meant every word that I promised you. You will not be scapegoated by either side of this conflict.

[ There is nowhere in particular that Will has to go after the ceremony, so he settles for going to his room. They are near his quarters now; he pushes the heavy door open himself, though he also doesn't protest when Louis assists him in the endeavor.

As they step into his private bedchamber, the prince levels a curious glance at Louis over his shoulder. ]

...You really are a curious man, Count Louis. Your belief in a meritocracy is well known — that vision, I do not doubt. But... does it truly not bother you that I am an elda?

[ Louis consorts with paripus and the lesser tribes. That much is true. That much is known. If you have strength, then he has need of it. But is that a position he has espoused because he truly believes in it, Will wonders, or is he truly beyond tribal prejudices?

The prince breaks the eye contact after a moment, sighing; he begins to draw his heavy ceremonial cloak off of his shoulders. ]

Even some of the royal guardsmen believed that I was a "hornless clemar" before they believed I was an elda. What do you know of them, to speak of them with such surety?

[ To be completely without tribal bias or revulsion... that is a state of existence that Will does not often come across. To some in Euchronia, looking upon someone without horns or pointed ears might be akin to looking at someone with a disfigurement. And yet, Louis has only ever looked at Will with the same brilliant blue stare that he'd fix upon anything else. ]

[ as they pass through the threshold, Louis stands dutifully at the door. he is not as poised as any common guard would be, not at attention like a good dog, but subtly, with a light touch to the hilt of his sword. he's loose, but ready, like a man who has spent his life waiting for battle.

if anything, Will has chosen someone who has seen many. ]

Are you curious? Perhaps my penchant for meritocracy has better known than my distaste for the church. It is not for strength alone that Forden fears me.

[ he says, blatantly, as if there were no repercussions for such things laid bare. ]

I've been the depths of the Dragon Temple, I know what secrets are hidden there that the Sanctists try desperately to stricken that nameless island from the maps of Euchronia. The elda are not lesser by trait, but by purposeful design. The church wishes to expand power, and thus the tribes like the elda and the mustari must be outcast, denounced and seen in ridicule.

[ Grius had warned the young prince that Count Louis had a silver tongue, that he had swayed many people by his side with charm. it is, perhaps, because he knows when the truth sounds good.

such politics are not lost on him. ]

I will not give the institution the satisfaction of humoring their lies. If there is a truth to this world, I refuse to allow it to be defined by them.

[ he speaks plainly, but there is a sharp edge to his voice as he finishes, as if he teeters on the edge of his own hateful ambitions. ]

[ Once Will has undresesd — not to any great degree, but enough to make himself comfortable — he takes a seat upon a long sofa that is in his room, gesturing with one hand to silently indicate that Louis may either sit beside him or across from him in an armchair if he so prefers. ]

So you hate the crown, but it is the church that has truly earned your ire.

[ The prince offers a curious, if perfunctory, tilt of the head. ]

May I ask why?

[ Politely, he crosses one leg in front of him, folding his hands in his lap as he gives Louis his complete and undivided attention. In another life, perhaps, this is how he could have been as the king, giving audience to the concerns of his people. Each and every citizen, he would treat as a dear guest. ]

...The church's misdeeds are obvious to all who know where to look for them. But your disdain for Forden speaks to something more personal. Yet I know of no quarrel the Church has ever picked with House Guiabern... so this is something that happened before you were adopted.

Edited 2025-08-30 01:57 (UTC)

[ the prince settles across the room, prying gently at the opportunity, much more forward than those who whisper in court about him. for the moment he seems uncaring of what Will might have heard about his reputation, as if any of those whispers could somehow serve him now.

Louis seems somewhat curious at the invite, as much as he can look curious (which comes off as smugly entertained), and follows Will to settle across from him, his hand still on the hilt of his sword when he sits. ]

We all have scars from our pasts – I'm sure you have stories to tell, given your own circumstances. Atrocities perpetuated by a weak man who sells lies to keep his power is personal enough for me, as until he is stopped, more will continue to occur.

[ words he sells easily without offering the prince a branch – perhaps this is just how Louis Guiabern is, personable, but always out of reach. ]

I'm certain you've realized that by now.

[ though as Louis says that, there's a knock at the door. just as easily as he sat he's already on his feet, a confident stroll toward the door with the prince in the corner of his gaze. this could be an assassination attempt – one made in declaration, even after they had heard the rumor of Forden's drawback.

Louis wouldn't put it passed him, a cornered dog.

at the door is a rather nervous looking guard who knows his rank well enough to regard Louis with a strict stance of attention.

Sanctifex Forden has requested Count Louis Guiabern's presence in the senate chambers, he says quickly. It is urgent, and pertains to this country's defense. I was told nothing else. ]

Curious, isn't it.

[ Louis says, as if it's not curious at all. ]

Tell him he may wait, and I will see him as I please.

[ the guard bumbles a bit, But Sir ... ]

The crown prince's safety takes priority, I'm certain he'd agree. Tell him that.

[ Louis allows the door to swing shut, leaving the poor guard on the other side to collect his own thoughts on what he'd like to do about that exchange. Louis looks slightly amused. ]

He's acted a moment too late, shall we go tell him?

[ Louis answers, but he has said nothing of substance. Will frowns, but this is well within the range of responses he expected, too. No part of him actually thought that Louis would open up on the basis of one well-timed and earnestly asked question. What this confirms, if anything, is that Louis is indeed hiding something, and Grius was right that he has a particular silver tongue, a knack for dodging questions.

Serenely, Will allows Louis to answer the door. The prince himself stays seated, in large part because he is used to hiding himself from view, and from potential assassination attempts. Louis refuses the guardsman's urgency, convinces him to leave. Will waits with perfunctory patience, then rises from his seat when Louis has closed the door. ]

I daresay that there is nothing that the Sanctifex can say about the country's defense that should not be said in front of its crown prince.

[ Carelessly, as if he doesn't care at all that he is in private company, Prince Wilhelm sighs and pulls the ribbon around his throat until it comes loose. He strides towards the back of his bedchamber, unbuttoning his collar, even sliding part of his shirt off of his slim shoulders...

Mercifully, he steps behind a screen before dropping his shirt to the floor. Louis will soon hear the telltale signs of him pulling drawers and closets open for a change of clothes. Well — at least the prince is not the sort of spoiled young man who needs to be dressed by someone else. ]

Let me change into something more appropriate first. Forden can wait.

[ And the ostentatiousness of the prince arriving in an entirely different set of clothes than the ones he was last seen in is — a small gesture, to be sure. Arguably a wasteful one. But the Church is guilty of its own excesses, and Will rather spitefully likes the idea of making Forden wait just so he can put on a different set of leggings. ]

[ Louis is as buttoned up as ever, with whatever he is hiding so far down that even if Will wanted to reach it, it would be like extending his hand into the pit. there is a darkness to Count Louis Guiabern's soul, something that seems to have drawn Will in. Louis believes this is the end of that conversation, but it hardly is, another way he underestimates the prince, perhaps.

Louis turns against the door, waiting patiently there like a good guard. never really at attention, but always somewhat loose and confident.

he'll get used to Will's habits, and he seems hardly perturbed that Will has begun to change in front of him. it's part of his duty now to guard him through the naked times, as well as the clothed. ]

You seem rather excited about this.

[ Will does not need to accompany him, but he wants to. there's some enjoyment in the need to face Forden for what he is, and for that Louis can wait. there's many things curious about Will, particularly how unlike the king he is, even if he's been kept away for this long. Louis wonders, absently as the prince changes, what kind of person that he'll turn out to be when this ends? ]

Of course I am. I've wanted to spit in that man's face for years.

[ What kind of person is the prince, really? They've had several conversations already, but this is a new sort of face he's showing Louis now. The soft-spoken, gentle young man with a heart of gold and a sensitivity around his people — that aspect of him seems authentic, but this prince is a rather different sort of beast. Spiteful, angry. He's real, too; the bitterness in his voice is not one that is easily imitated. ]

Not that I'll do so on this particular occasion...

[ A soft clattering of buttons, the gentle rustling of clothes, and then the prince emerges soon enough, wearing a white-and-gold ensemble that is, ostensibly, more appropriate for meeting the Sanctifex. He pulls on his gloves as he joins Louis by the door, eyes flicking casually over his new personal knight once again. ]

But a throwing of the gauntlet seems appropriate. He should know that the little mouse he failed to exterminate has grown large enough to nip at his ankles.

Edited 2025-09-07 05:16 (UTC)

[ young, certainly – the prince is young. there are certainly times he's soft-spoken, but Louis rather enjoys this willful, spiteful elda that has been kept hidden within the palace walls. there's no doubt why he's been held here: safety, certainty, and the questions that would circulate in rumors if the masses knew of his tribe. it's a surprise that the king was able to keep this quiet for so long. something dangerous inside of Louis wants to entice him away from the safety of the palace, not because he wants to see the prince hurt, but because the defiance enough in knowing his true nature is personally satisfying.

is the prince someone who is content living a life within these confines?

they head through the door – Will first, and Louis in tow. the prince's legs are much shorter than his new knight's, but respectfully, Louis keeps a pace a few steps behind him. ]

More than a nip, perhaps he challenges you to draw blood. He is shrewd, and may not counter until he's challenged. This alliance that we currently hold is a bold declaration.

[ he wonders, idly, how long the prince has been showing his teeth. while the king gets more frail, his son fills with fire. ]

In that, he may move directly at the king if he cannot make a move at you.

[ his tone is somewhat low, but not hushed. while he's not overly vigilant, he's rather aware of their surroundings. there are many things he knows about the palace, and even the walls have ears if you speak loud enough. their steps echo off the stone and through the hallways, past the royal apartments and toward the greater halls. ]

[ It may suit Louis's needs to walk behind Will at this juncture, but the prince himself doesn't seem pleased by it. Perhaps he still expects to find Louis's blade between his ribs — perhaps he simply objects to having his subordinates stand behind him in general. Whatever the case, he purposefully slows down so that they walk side-by-side instead.

His eyes are downcast and thoughtful. ]

...Forden will never target my father in the way that you are thinking.

[ He sounds strangely certain. Even somewhat bored, as though he is a student reciting lessons learned and not a curiously confident assessment of the danger his own father is in. ]

Though, the reason why... that is a story that would better be told in my quarters. [ They are out in the hall now, after all. ] Trust me when I say 'tis so. He would murder the king's wife, kill his son — but not the king himself. Never the king himself.

[ Pointedly, after they've made their way about halfway down the hall to the reception room where Forden is presumably waiting for Louis, Will turns around and extends his arm, clearly expecting his knight to take it. Why, and to what end...? ]

Come, let me have your arm.

[ when Will draws back to keep pace with him, Louis does not comment. there are certain behaviors that have been ingrained in him as a soldier, and he knows the role of a personal knight well, so he remains side by side with the prince, if that is what he desires.

it certainly would strike up some conversation among the castle's servants. ]

As you will.

[ the pause outside the senate chambers, Will reaching for him in a curious act of rebellion. wanting to see what the prince has up his royal sleeve, Louis offers the hint of his elbow from beneath his cape, allowing him to do as he sees fit with it.

Forden expects Louis alone, he's certain of that, so the accompaniment of the prince will be a surprise – they may even slightly catch him off guard. this won't be enough to trip up Forden to the extent that they could wage a counter attack, or prove any use to his ambition, but he is petty enough to revel in a momentary victory over the cruel old man.

the senate chamber is draped in shadow with a small walkway that leads to the center of raised chairs, only one of which are occupied at the moment. it's meant to be intimidating, so Louis refuses to be intimidated. in his opinion, if the chairs must be raised for one to feel greater than someone else, they must be lacking in other places. it suits Forden.

with an easy stroll he walks beside Will, not tempering his stride, curious how the prince will keep up with him being slightly shorter. they make it to the center and Forden looks down at the two of them, Louis looks up with a hint of satisfaction, knowing that the man must be hiding the surprise in his own expression. ]

You called for me, did you? I would request that you now gauge my time on par with the prince's, as you can see that I have new duties to attend to.

[ he says smoothly, the way that no one else would address the Sanctifex. ]

[ Sanctifex Forden sent for one and has received two in his audience chamber.

He is irked. Many things about the situation in front of him are irksome at present, though he ever strives to practice and project the serenity and peace of mind which he preaches, and he will not falter in that now, in front of Louis Guiabern of all people. He was not there, that night he sent soldiers to raze that overgrown patch of western forest that the eldas called their sanctum; he has no way of knowing that the clemar nobleman in front of him was ever a blond and blue-eyed boy who watched his parents burn alive on the torchfires of the Sanctist igniters. He suspects, sometimes — but he does not know, and it does not matter to him. Who or what sent Count Louis Guiabern to be a thorn in his side is irrelevant. What matters only is that the man is a thorn in said side, and clearly hates the Church to which Forden has toiled his entire life, half because he knows it gives him the power he has always sought, and half because he himself is a true believer in the faith. He would not have come this far, if he were not a true believer of the faith.

...The boy is another story. Forden often regrets that he tolerated the prince's presence for too long, but by the time he found out where the king was keeping his paramour and his bastard, it was too late — the boy had already grown into something that foolish scholar was attached to. Even after arranging for the death of the woman that had seduced Hythlodaeus and led him off course, Forden thought that he might still be able to sway the situation to his advantage — perhaps his pulse had quickened slightly at the hope that the child would either resemble the king or be as malleable as he was in his youth. And yet, not only was it elda, it looked like her.

The Sanctifex has arranged countless times since then to have the thing murdered in its bed, but time and time again the assassinations have failed, been thwarted by that one-eyed drunken lout, that Grius. Even Rella, that useless twit, had only snarled up her curse and let the boy escape in the arms of that idiot daughter of the Hulkenbergs. And now the young prince leans on the arm of the military officer that has served as Forden's chief opposition within the royal court, wearing a smirk as if he, too, knows the siren song of seduction, just like his unclean wench of a mother —

Outwardly, Forden simply closes his eyes for a time, and sets his jaw, leaning back in his seat.

"I believe I called only for Count Guiabern's presence at this meeting," is how he opens, though this does not seem to be the point of the meeting at all.

Will knows full well what he is doing. What sort of a man Forden is, and what sorts of secrets he has borne for over fifty years. He had a feeling that this sort of display would aggravate Forden — that the sight of the eldan prince on the arm of a gallant young clemar would spark unwanted memories and jealousies so impossibly twisted that they no longer even resemble desire. He knows, which is why he smiles gently, resting the whole of his palm upon Louis's forearm in a manner that is nearly possessive.

He had no problem keeping up with the pace of Louis's longer legs, adapted quickly to the change in pace. It does not even bother him overmuch that he has no true bond with Louis at present, no way of knowing how Louis will respond to certain moves. He is improvising, at present, and Will can be very, very good at improvising. ]

Surely there is nothing that cannot be said about the country's defense in front of its crown prince, Your Eminence.

[ "The rebel forces to the north are stirring. They plot against you, Your Highness," Forden says, venom dripping from the title as he says it with the barest hint of sarcasm. "It is a matter of utmost importance, and as general of the royal army, it falls to Count Guiabern to put them to rout. Yet you would compromise his interests by appointing him as your royal knight instead." ]

Is there a reason he cannot serve in both roles?

[ Coquettishly, Prince Wilhelm rests his head on Louis's shoulder, though at his height it's more like a gentle nuzzle just above Louis's elbow. ]

The army has many generals. You should send a lesser officer. I can think of at least three majors who would jump at the chance to prove themselves.

[ there must be some plot here, some way to relieve Forden of the burden of both them, he only needed to think of it. there's an art to patience here, even if this part of his plan was thwarted. the two of them, standing in front of him, the shameless demon of a prince locked arm in arm with his nemesis.

this is a ploy to get a rise out of him, and he can feel it working. centering himself, he needs to remember the bigger picture. ]

Reliance on me alone will make poor soldiers in the future. I did not think your ranks so desperate for leadership that you would need me to quell a simple uprising. If are skilled warriors in the north that mean to make their way to the capital, then they can cross swords with me at the prince's bedside.

[ there is a game here – one that Will has started by brushing his weight against him, curling an arm through his own. when Count Guiabern speaks, the intention is deliberate – he means to make Forden question their relationship. for now, it doesn't matter what there is between them, only that Forden has to think twice about it, guess it, possibly make his own assumptions about it. the less that is scrawled in stone, the better.

it's always like this – a standoff of two proud men, dancing around their blades. if Louis did not know that there were guards flanked close to the Sanctifex, he might think it worth it to go for his throat here and now.

there is a low, deep hum as Forden leans back in his seat, his hand still clenched around his staff.

"Is it? If I'm not mistaken, the one that had attempted to lay a curse upon His Majesty is still free, and none have answered for it. I've been told it was a skilled mage, one of your caliber, perhaps? It may be upon the king to review your qualifications before you are to take the mantel of royal knight to his son."

Louis knows what this means – it's a threat. ]

Then your intentions could not be more blatant. If you're accusing me of treason, I would dare you to see it through to trial, and hope dearly that you can find enough skill among your men to replace me.

[ "He is clearly smitten with you, is that your doing too, Count Guiabern? If you could not fulfill your ambitions in cursing him, it would be far easier to get him to trust you. It seems that it's worked." ]

[ There is a certain personality that Will likes to perform in front of Forden. He resolved to try and shed the mask, but old habits die hard, and — the prince realizes as he looks up at the old man (only because the structure of the room mandates that any guests must look up at the Sanctifex, or he'd sooner spit in the rhoag's face) — he sinks into this type of role precisely because he knows it annoys Forden.

The Prince Wilhelm that Forden knows is a shallow thing, a petulant thing. Spoiled, whimsical, wild, free. A little stupid, a little foolish, to hide the fangs and claws lurking just beneath the smile. He's exactly the sort of stupid young man who would be easily manipulated by sex.

Will has never wondered whether or not Forden knows that this act is entirely false. What matters is that playing the role aggravates him, and as long as it aggravates the man, Will is resolved to be the most frivolous, foppish little eldan prince that ever existed. He laughs ever so carelessly, tossing his hair a little with his free hand. ]

Your Eminence! Please, there's no need for such protectiveness. That investigation — wasn't it closed long ago?

[ Naturally, Will knows that the Sanctifex's concerns are not borne of protectiveness. But he can have that as a flimsy excuse. Really, bringing up his own assassination from nearly ten years ago... How desperate must the doddering old priest be? ]

I think you will find it hard to convince my father that Louis is the one who attempted to curse me when we are so very close. And he's more than proven his loyalty to me...

[ Louis has done nothing of the sort, but that doesn't matter. Will can sense that Louis has picked up on why the prince has been falsifying this relationship between the two of them, so it falls to him to go along with it. ]

It would be such an inconvenience to send him up north. And... you don't have the official capacity to do such a thing, now that I think of it. Perhaps you should petition my father for an audience? You and he are such good friends.

[ Really twisting the knife there. Will fixes Forden with a saccharine smile, continuing to enjoy the warmth of Louis's arm. ]

[ Louis has absolutely not proven his loyalty or anything of the sort – in fact, he's done more than the opposite. it seems that their combined hatred of Forden is enough to temporarily cross any misgivings they might have had of one another. Louis can appreciate that, there's something fascinating about how willful the prince is, though Louis believes he just needs a little more encouragement for rebellion.

nothing is better for a broken system than royalty that sticks to their convictions.

(better than a king that he knows.)

Louis crosses his arms in front of his chest – that his hand is not as his sword speaks for itself. Will busies himself at his side, flippant and vapid in their performance. ]

There are also leagues of monks with battle experience under your thumb. Despite your claims, and due to the increase in attempted assassinations, it is more advantageous to have someone with battle experience under the direct command of the prince. He has chosen me himself, I would hope that you trust his judgement.

[ he looks more irritated than angry (perhaps some irking that Forden would not yield to an elda, even if that elda was royalty). ]

I do not answer to you, nor your faith. Do not waste my time again.

[ as if that were that, he dismisses himself. it's an insult to do so, and Louis is quite aware of how rude his boldness is, but he simply does not want to see Forden's face anymore.

the old man winces behind him as his footsteps echo from the room. a silent dare hangs in the air for any of Forden's forces to try and stop him, but no one does. it's enough for Louis to know that he does not want confrontation, at least not yet.

his pace is so swift that even the servants move to step briskly out of his way as he heads back through the main hallway. ]

[ Secretly, it surprises Will, too, when Louis simply storms out of the audience chamber, breaking their joined arms — but he hides his surprise by pretending to linger on purpose, fixing Forden with a mocking smile. After a pause, he presses one hand to his chest and bows — not too deeply, of course. He is the prince. It is more of a nod. ]

I believe my royal knight has made his point clear. Pray excuse us, Your Eminence.

[ With that, he turns to leave, calmly walking out of the room at his own pace.

Once his steps are far enough away from the Sanctifex's meeting hall that he's certain none of the warrior monks are watching or listening in on him, Will quickens his steps, half-skipping, half-running down the hall to catch up to Louis. His feet can't carry him far, though — after a few paces, the prince gets impatient, drawing his sword out of its scabbard so that he can glide on it (in a rather ill-mannered and boyish way).

At length he catches up to Louis, riding with whimsical ease on his sword, his hands folded behind his back. It's... kind of like having the prince casually slide up next to you on a scooter. ]

Well! You know how to make an exit, don't you?

[ while he's Will's knight for the time being, he's also a bit more rebellious than the dastardly humors would have anyone believe. Louis Guiabern quite likes being strong enough to do what he wants.

and he's humored Forden long enough.

it's not hard to keep up with him, while he certainly made a scene in storming out, he still has a duty to keep an eye on Will, and he will also not allow Forden the opening he desperately wants to put a knife at his throat. he gives the prince a rare, curious glance atop the sword, but doesn't comment (yet, anyway).

he's among the pillars in the hall, merely waiting for Will, wasting his time doing than rather than speaking with Forden. ]

Even small acts can be that of bold manipulation, and I simply reminded him that since I'm under oath to protect you, and that I will no longer comply when he beckons.

[ it's a challenge to Forden's authority, who thinks he can call in Louis (and possibly the prince) whenever he likes. ]

Perhaps we should get you a very tall chair so you can look down upon him the next time he tries such a display.

[ is that a height joke? yes. ]

How would I even get on a chair that tall? I'd have to... to float...

[ Furrowing his brow, the young prince puts some effort into making his sword fly up a little higher, but there are reasons that efficient magical flight was long known to be one of the foremost unsolved problems at the Mage Academy, and this effort seems to tire him out a bit quicker than it perhaps should (being a gifted mage himself, Louis might be able to see ways in which Will's magla expenditure is a little wasteful in this particular endeavor).

The prince floats up to be about Louis's height, then wobbles on the blade; realizing that his spellcraft is making him dizzy, Will gives up, letting the blade fall back down to its usual height with a faintly exhausted sigh.

...He's surprisingly playful and childish, like this. ]

It's too bad I'm not a fairy like Gallica. Then I could just float to whatever height I want to be...

[ Gallica must be another one of his companions... ]

[ when the elda village burned, he was too young to recall the place of the fairies. they were there, but never in the forefront of his mind, perhaps necessity pushed them out, or he was far too much of a surly child to get along with their carefree ways. ]

Fairy, is it? Another surprise from the young prince.

[ though he wonders how many of those there will be as the two of them continue this dance: reaching forward bit by bit, feeling the other out, curious to the other's true intentions. ]

A floating sword, armor from magla, and a fairy companion. I suppose I fit in well with this eclectic mix that you've amassed. Come, I'm certain he's having us followed. There are wards that need to be checked in your quarters to ensure they are to my liking.

[ with or without Will perched upon his sword, he heads back to the prince's room. somehow, Louis Guiabern seems diligent in his duties as the prince's protector. for all the rumors about him, there are some eccentricates that don't quite peek through. ]

The wards...?

[ The wards are royal magic of a kind that Will has never bothered with double-checking because they are woven into the very construction of the palace. Not that he minds Louis re-examining them, of course; it simply surprises him, firstly, that the man would think to do so, and secondly, that the man even noticed them to begin with. He looks more like the type whose martial might was proven by his bladework and not his spellwork, but Will supposes that there was a very good reason after all that people started calling Louis Guiabern "the Archmage." ]

And if they are not to your liking? Will you make new ones?

[ When they return to Will's room, it would appear, at least, on face value, that nothing in the young man's room has been changed. On the air, however...

Something feels different. About the magla of the place. Surely the wards were not broken, but... it would have been a simple thing, for someone in Forden's camp to take advantage of the improptu "meeting" to plant something inconspicuous...

Will is quiet as they return. He seems to be aware that something has been altered, but he also wants to see how Louis will react to the violation of his quarters. ]

[ it's a habit that he adapted after his political rivals had begun to sabotage him. once you became powerful, those with weaknesses would use every dirty, underhanded means of dethroning you, and Louis had learned well. some of the spells he knew were due to his own lineage, others through fine tuning of the craft, and yet others through raw necessity. he was highly attuned to the magla around them, and how igniters brought it to life. (he also knew that they were not needed to wield magla, much as the prince did, himself.)

the royal magic holds a certain type of authority, but Louis has no respect for any type of authority, so where this may seem blasphemy to some, he could care little. he knows that Forden does not, either, as much as he preaches otherwise. ]

Perhaps. If such a fool has tampered with your quarters, then there is a vulnerability in defense. If we expose it, we may also potentially have some fun with the one who thought they could dupe you.

[ it's curious that the prince can tell as well as he can, but that may be that they both are adept to it in ways that others are not.

Louis sets a hand on the doorframe, gently drawing it up in a gesture that looks delicate coming from a man of his stature. there is a look of quiet contemplation on his face, slightly devious to see if anyone would be so bold as to infiltrate the prince's quarters. ]

Someone wishes to tell when you come and go.

[ he says, gently tugging at the artificially created magla pathway, laying over one of the wards. it's easy to spot now that he's pointed it out. ]

You've become a threat.

[ there's a show of amusement from Louis, who seems rather thrilled at the prospect. ]

[ There is something inherently pleasing about the way that Louis tugs at magla. He is elegant with it, as he is in all things, but Prince Wilhelm catches himself thinking — foolishly, he knows it's foolish — that he would love to watch the man do that again and again.

He cannot think such things because he knows full well that Louis has yet to earn his trust, so Will says nothing about it, and merely imitates the gesture. Will can manipulate magla patchways as well as any archmage; he takes hold of the one that Louis pointed out, and draws it nearly taut enough to snap it in half. With cold dignity, he casts a glance in his personal knight's direction, curious to see what his reaction will be. ]

Well? Shall we break it and let our guest know that we've caught on to their scheme?

[ The question is meant to probe for a response, a reaction. The idea of an intruder in his personal quarters does not surprise the prince; such schemes and machinations have haunted him as long as he has been alive. What he is more interested in is what Louis's reaction to such an insult will be. ]

[ the boy prince learns quickly, Louis thinks to himself as he watches Will imitate his gesture to an almost perfect comparison – it's not exactly perfect because Will knows what he's looking for enough that he has to change the gesture to grasp onto the path. it's a curious detail, one that is not unexpected, but there's something distinctly satisfying about it. it's very elda. ]

Is that what you wish to do?

[ he asks, unabashedly challenging the prince. ]

What would be most beneficial to the cause that you're pursuing?

[ ultimately it's Will's choice, and Louis will deal with whatever consequences come of that choice – he is Will's knight. however, there's something curious about the way that Will works, about what kind of person he is, and the potential of what type of person he could be.

Louis can't help but find himself more intrigued than he normally tends to be about people. ]

[ Will winds his finger around the strands of magla he's pulled taught; the motion strains them still further. ]

As entertaining as it would be to allow them to spy on me for a time to lure them into a trap...

[ He turns his gaze pointedly in Louis's direction, pulling the strings like so many silver spiderwebs around his middle finger, gazing at his new knight's lips — ]

I enjoy a bit of privacy in the evenings.

[ — so saying, he snaps the magla web outright, breaking the original caster's spell into unrecognizable ribbons that soon disintegrate into motes of magla on the air. Then he dusts off his hands, as if he's done nothing more interesting than clean up a few specks of dirt in his room. ]

You feel the same way, don't you?

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011 » we both know that things could get messy

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