dizzyspells | Royal Pains.

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just get married already

Royal Pains.

[Edgar prided himself on being a man of his word. He always kept true to it, even if the circumstances called for him not to (or if it would benefit him if he didn't). So when the time came for him to either let the so-called bandit go or haul 'him' back to Figaro, it was clear the young king had already made up his mind. He did say he was going to do it and he had no intention of fibbing. Even if it meant a lengthy journey back. The time could be better spent scaling up the tower and rescuing the trapped Princess but Edgar, in his infinite wisdom, figured he would get in better graces with her parents if he himself arrested and booked the 'man' that dared to defile their precious daughter. Besides, it wasn't as if she wouldn't be there when he returned.

This was all easier said than done, of course. After a number of miles, all of which were traveled wearily on foot as his suspect was hog-tied and placed over the back of his chocobo, he cursed the day he decided to ever be so honest and valiant. His feet hurt, he was hot and sweaty, the rations were running low and, frankly, he was tired. Of everything.

He shot Faris a dirty look over his shoulder when they passed a road-sign. One direction pointed towards Figaro, the other Tycoon.]

You've become a lot more trouble than you're worth, you know that?

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[She growled, struggling again at her bonds for the hundredth time that day.]

You're really makin' me want to sock you one once I get outta here. You don't know a damn thing about me.

If my words bother you that much...

[His gait becoming something more rigid and confident, he looked over his shoulder at Faris with a self-satisfied smirk.]

...prove me wrong.

[Oh how she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face.]

An' how am I supposed to prove anything if I'm tied up on a chocobo?

Actions do speak louder than words, which is why you are where you currently are. Suffice to say, I don't trust you or your actions -- moreso when you're being so hostile.

[Scoff.]

Personally, I'd rather you just tell me at this point.

I'm not bein' hostile!

[She fumes for a minute, before continuing.]

You wouldn't believe anything I'd tell you anyway.

Try me.

[After a long few minutes of contemplation,]

What if I told you I wasn't tryin' to get in the tower, but trying to get out?

I'd say it would make sense and that I'd simply caught you as you were attempting to escape from whatever crime you'd just committed.

That's not what I was meanin'-

[She makes a frustrated noise.]

I meant, I didn't sneak in in the first place.

[That was enough to make him stop dead in his tracks and look back at his prisoner, one eyebrow arched high on his forehead.]

You mean to say you were leaving the Princess' tower...? What in blazes were you doing, then?

[It takes awhile for her to answer, as she debates whether she wants to say it or not, but maybe, if she could get him to change his mind about taking her back.]

I was rescuin' myself. I'm the princess.

...

...

...

...

[Yeah right. He wanted to say, except any words he wanted to say became lost in the laughter that abruptly escaped him. It wasn't the refined chortling he was accustomed to -- but more like his brother's boisterous guffawing. Loud and uncontrolled.]

[And Faris' face turned a bright shade of red and she sputtered a little at Edgar's laughter. Why did she think that was going to work?]

Yeah, laugh it up. You'll be sorry once you show up to Tycoon with me tied up like this.

[It took him quite a bit to recover from that fit of laughter, even just slightly. He was still snickering and shaking all over when he attempted a response.]

We'll see about that.

I knew you wouldn't believe me.

[And she fell silent, riding along quietly for once.]

[Beyond that little...recess, the journey to Tycoon was quick and uneventful. It was late when they passed through the border patrol gates and into the city proper. Their first stop beyond a chocobo stable? The dungeons.

What was supposed to be a simple booking process turned into something a bit more...elaborate when the warden pardoned himself and went to retrieve his superior and one of the councilmen. Who then went on to get someone else and another person...]

...

[He eyed Faris out the corner of his eye.

Couldn't be...]

[Faris couldn't help the shit-eating grin once she caught Edgar looking her way. She certainly wasn't happy to be back, but proving him wrong was a small victory, at least.

Finally, after a long wait, the Chancellor finally came to greet the pair, looking more than a little bit frazzled.

"What is the meaning of this? Bringing our Princess back to us in such a manner. Get those ropes off of her!"

... A thousand pardons, M'lord, but...

[Incredulous was an understatement for the way he just stared at both Faris and the Chancellor.

It was all a trick. Some ridiculous, well-planned joke at his expense. All of it. It had to be. There was just no way any of this made sense. None.]

...this is not the princess. This is a mere bandit that I'd intercepted as he was fleeing her Highness' tower. I apprehended him here once he assaulted me and insulted the name of both House Tycoon and House Figaro.

[The chancellor looked just as flustered, he knew just as well what Faris was like (why do you think they put her in the tower to begin with?) and they could hardly arrest Edgar- He was royalty, and, in the end, he had saved her, even if his methods were unusual.]

"Ah, um Sire, I know how this must look but-"

[He stammered before being cut off by Faris.]

Oh for cryin' outloud. [Once her hands were freed by the guards, she abruptly grabbed Edgar's wrist and forced his hand against her chest. She might be bound, but it certainly felt different from a man's chest.]

Now do you believe me?

[That...was not expected. He suspected something of Faris since he'd met her and though he didn't believe her earlier in their journey when she admitted she was the princess, things began falling into place and everything began making sense.

To anyone but Edgar, anyway.

His hands came over her chest and once he felt some softness between the bindings, his fingers instinctively squeezed.

Squish, squish.]

...

[Oh. God.]

[Meanwhile the chancellor and guardsmen were sputtering over Faris' actions.]

"P-Princess! That's hardly appropriate!"

[Fairs just rolled her eyes, releasing his hand and turning on him and the others.]

You all can take care of this, I'm gonna go see my sister.

[And off she went, leaving behind a flabbergasted group of men.]

"W-we're terribly sorry for the confusion, Sire, I assure you, all will be explained. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to join us for dinner tonight?"

[All Edgar could do was stare as Faris stomped off, leaving him there with his jaw slack agape and eyes unblinking. The Chancellor may as well have been speaking to the wall; Edgar barely heard a word he'd said, aside from "dinner tonight?"

To which he nodded dumbly. His eyes never left the corner Faris rounded, even long after she was gone.]

Mmhm...

[Dinner that evening was, more or less, a large and festive banquet. Rushed in preparation, due to the abrupt appearance of one King Figaro and unexpected reappearance of the elder Princess Tycoon, but a charming and well-planned event nevertheless. Nobles from within Tycoon and surrounding sovereign nations came in by the droves. It was easy to get lost in them.

Edgar made note of that when he suffered having to listen to yet another joke at his expense from a nobleman that learned of the...confusion at the castle dungeons earlier that day. He'd lost the ability to smile by the tenth time some overly-wealthy windbag guffawed in his face. Citing something he couldn't even remember, he excused himself and headed towards one of the balconies. No one missed him in the post-dinner crowds. He was thankful for that, at least.

It was colder out there on the balcony thanks to the breeze from the sea, but it was still kind of warm -- not like the evenings back in Figaro. He'd been given a nice change of clothes, expensive and well-made of course, but far too thick for the balmy air. As kind as they were, the tailors in Tycoon were laughably ignorant of a desert king's preferences. He snorted and unbuttoned his shirt and removed his cape, muttering a few choice words to himself.]

I really need to return to Figaro...

[Faris had successfully managed to avoid Edgar during the majority of the party. It wasn't hard, considering everyone trying to get her attention. No one had seen the elder princess in a long time so she was somewhat of a novelty to the nobles and politicians alike, and Faris had little patience for either.

She had certainly kept an eye on the young King of Figaro, taking small pleasure in his discomfort, so she certainly noticed when he finally excused himself, and before long Edgar might find someone standing behind him, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She was a far cry from the scoundrel Edgar had apprehended at the tower; her hair was plaited in a braid that hung over her shoulder, and unlike Edgar, Tycoon tailors were prepared with a wardrobe meant just for her (though whether they cared much about her preferences that was another matter, considering Faris would love nothing more than to run around in a tunic all day.)]

What's wrong? I thought you'd feel right at home.

[Edgar made every effort he could to avoid seeing, and being seen by, the princess. Mostly to save face. The blunder he'd made, as harmless as it was in the end, still stuck with him. Apparently, his ego could handle rejection from women left and right, but being unable to recognize what he treasured most (besides his own brother and Figaro itself, naturally) was nigh unbearable. It was laughably ironic how the princess he'd wanted to see and court so much at first became the one he dreaded the most.

Dread wasn't an accurate description, no. Seeing her in those fancy threads and so beautifully done stirred something in him that was far from anything resembling dread.

Hearing her brogue, though, reminded him too well of his own personal failure. She confused everything about him. He wasn't sure what to think of it.

Coughing just once into his fist, he stopped looking at her through the corner of his eye and focused back on the Tycoon horizon.]

The weather here has made me homesick, is all.

[A pause.]

...enjoying the party, your Highness?

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PS if you want to timejump to dinner or if you want to do something else, whatever is fine.

The dinner sounds good. [1/2]

[2/2]

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