Edgar Roni Figaro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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dizzyspells2013-01-24 03:38 am
edgar_roni) wrote in dizzyspells2013-01-24 03:38 am
Entry tags:
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?
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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...
...
...
[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.]
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Yeah, laugh it up. You'll be sorry once you show up to Tycoon with me tied up like this.
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We'll see about that.
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[And she fell silent, riding along quietly for once.]
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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...]
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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!"
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[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.
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"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?
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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.]
PS if you want to timejump to dinner or if you want to do something else, whatever is fine.
"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?"
The dinner sounds good. [1/2]
To which he nodded dumbly. His eyes never left the corner Faris rounded, even long after she was gone.]
Mmhm...
[2/2]
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...
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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.
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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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Don't start with that.
[She's heard the phrase your highness about a hundred too many times this evening. Pushing herself off of the doorframe, she walked over to the guardrail next to him.]
If you hadn't stopped me, I'd be halfway across the ocean by now.
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Hm.
[He still had airs to keep up and she would eventually exploit it if he continued avoiding looking at her -- so he turned and leaned back against the rail, his posture slightly slouched.]
There's nothing stopping you from going now. Or is there?
[Slowly but surely, he was growing relaxed in her presence. Most likely due to the fact that she seemed rather uncomfortable in her current getup.]
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No, but if I just disappear, there's sure to be more guys like you showin' up to "rescue" me back home.
[A grin pulled at the edge of her mouth and she watched him out of the corner of her eye.]
But, if I were to, say, take an extended trip to another country with a chaperon... There wouldn't be any reason to send knights in shining armor out after me.
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Where the hell had she been all his life?]
...hm.
[Feeling his face grow hot -- and not due to the humid weather -- he rolled his neck till it popped and shifted around some more against that guardrail.]
A chaperone, eh? Why would you need one of those?
[Smirk.]
Not big enough for traveling on your own, are you?
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[She turned, finally looking at him. Was it just her, or was his face turning red?]
I won't be any trouble. You just take me to Figaro with you, and when we get there, I can go on my merry way, and everyone here can keep on thinkin' that I'm safely tucked away in the castle with you.
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[Of course there was a catch. He felt stupid for thinking otherwise.
Still, he took the opportunity and ran with it. When would it ever come up again, anyway?]
You'd use just about any excuse to be in my company, I see.
[He pushed his back up off the guardrail and, despite his inner turmoil, he toyed with a strand of her long, purple hair.]
And if I do go along with this insane idea of yours, what's in it for me?
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[Still, there was no reason that he should want to help her. Payback only goes so far, so, for the moment, she would indulge him.]
What do you want for it?
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[He tilted his head and squinted at her. Nothing they'd done suggested he was indebted to her. Unless there was something he'd forgotten in the past few whirlwind hours...]
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["This mess" being returning to home and being treated like a princess.]
Whatever, does it matter? Are you gonna help me or not?
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[His shoulders sagged and he shrugged, finding no other reason to argue with that train of thought. It could be interesting. It could be disastrous. Either way, it was better than staying here in Tycoon, lonely and homesick.]
But.
[And he leaned in, holding up his index finger.]
On one condition.
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[The look Faris gives Edgar is more than suspicious. She wasn't expecting him to actually agree.]
What's the condition?
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