Son of Malady

     Fifteen minutes pass. At the end of those fifteen 60-seconds, on the dot, the door bursts open in sparkles and lilies – but of course, no one saw. “I’m home~” She calls, laughing at her own little joke. Obviously, this was neither of their homes, nor was its level of sanitation even close to being considered calling a home.

     Six – count ‘em, six – bags plop and settle on the edge of a sharply-made bed. After making quite the ruckus by rummaging and plucking a handful of items from them Marie makes her way to the bathroom where she had hoped Ganser would be, for running away would bring a world of pain unlike the Trickster had ever seen.

    “I’m coming in now~” She says with a knock and barely any time for the other to respond before barging right in – gracefully, of course.

     “Look at all the different shampoos I bought! Aren’t they so cute and sweet-smelling? And here’s some bubble bath, perfume and towels… You can pick which one you like best or we could just use all of them, yes! All of them.”

"Comment dit-on 'scandal' en français?"

He was well aware of the city’s communication translation, and he was well aware of the word ‘scandale’, so the words he murmured under his breath were directed to no one in particular. He thought it was preferable to cursing in front of a queen at any rate.

“I’m certain with any one of these, that I’ll turn out better than when I walked in. Still, as the magnanimous and benevolent royal that you are Princess, I feel like I shouldn’t have to ask  about the freedom of choice...”

His finger fell to one of the more tame looking of her colorful assortment while another hand grabbed a towel all the while dreading her use of the word we. It would be easy enough to dismiss his worries as letting his thoughts get away from him and settle for getting flustered by his own imagination...if it weren’t for the situation he found himself in already.

“At any rate, this is hardly the sort of venue I should keep you waiting in by your lonesome.”

He’d learned of a misconception in the time he had found to consume fiction in the city. The misconception that people involved in violent trades smelled of the blood they spilled. In Ganser’s experience, people never reeked of blood, but more subtly, they smelled of what spilled it to begin with. Tempered steel that could be wiped clean, gunpowder that held a far more powerful scent, even the lingering air of something arcane that frayed the nostrils. 

That was what the man smelled of. Blood was somewhere in the mix, but the scents he followed led a trail from his nose to hang around his neck like a noose. Normally he’d avoid the scent and the person it clung to, but he had a morbid curiosity, perhaps a certain draw to a danger he hadn’t felt in a while or a particular annoyance that he’d find it here of all places. Most of all, he simply thought the man looked familiar for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

He followed the man as indiscreetly as he could, using what little of his father’s advice that he could stomach recalling. However, as the man turned as weaved as if cornering prey, Ganser couldn’t help but wonder if the sole purpose of his father’s advice was to get him caught in the first place. Raising his hands as the man finally turned to face him in a deserted alley, the young man broke into a defeated grin that lasted as long as his pursuit.

“Well that went about as well as I’d imagine it would.”

     “…” Lips pressed into a flat seam. Glancing over the damage at afar, Marie soon swoops in right beside the boy and quite suddenly grabs a hold of his mud-covered hand.

     There was no ifs, ands or buts that would be tolerated. Despite her reign having long past, there was no way a Queen would be seen walking around with such a dirt-covered man.

     The district she called her home was too far away for her liking. Instead, Marie opts to drag the boy along until they find a meager-looking motel, which she soon stands outside of, handing over the key to Ganser. If at any point he had tried to escape or complain during the process of executing her plan, well… a Servant’s strength sure was handy once in a while.

     “Hmmm… I doubt they have proper accoutrements so I will stop by the store near here.”

     “Are you hurt anywhere? I’ll buy bandages too just in case, and some of this, and some of that…” She taps her cheek, thinking. “…Oui! Alright. Go inside and start running a bath for yourself, I will be back faster than you can say Vive la France! Hee hee.”

“I...”

He currently found himself in what could only be called ‘a scene’. The scene was him being dragged into Marie’s pace as usual, only at three times the speed and with zero room for maneuvering. The end result was him being told to bathe, but when stuck in some out of the way motel and being told to start running a bath by a monarch was little short of a scandal. 

“Now this is a predicament...I’m almost certain that this is a war crime somewhere.”

At the very least, being told to freshen up wasn’t a peculiar request, nor was it unreasonable...under any other circumstances, or in any other setting. Still, he turned the dial and let the water begin to fill the tub while he washed his face. 

“In any case, it seems I’ve been cornered.”

     Marie laughs in that chime-like, light way that is so typical of the Queen who walks on air. Would Ganser get along with any of them…? Surely d’Eon might want to stick a sword in him or two, but if d’Eon could make more friends as well she would be just as happy…

     Lost in thought the sudden splash of action props her eyelids wide open, a hand hovering before her lips parted in shock.

     “Oh, my–!”

     Quickly rushing to his side, Marie kneels down to assess the damage. “What are you doing down there, Ganser?” As if he planned it. Eyes flutter over the boy’s body, a single hand reaching out to try and pat away the dirt. “Oh, no, this is no good… Did you hurt yourself…?”

Well, he had certainly been in better spots before. He could say with absolute certainty that he had made better impressions than the one he left in the puddle of mud. It wasn’t anything serious, but he was seriously wishing he was somewhere else all of a sudden.

Preferably with a change of clothes.

“Seems I took a bit of a trip. Shame about the landing.”

“Everything seems to still be attached, so I’ll be fine. I could probably do with a change of scenery though.”

He moved to stand up, hoping she wasn’t more worried about his blunder than necessary. Hoping even more so that this was just an embarrassment that would pass before he knew it.

     “Hmmm… You missed three dances, actually. My, this city does love its balls…” And so does she! “And that’s not all. Festivals, endless nights, sunny days…” Recalling the events that had transpired since his release, a rare look of rue quickly passes through the Queen’s face as she catches herself on a thought. If one weren’t looking, however, it may have been missed entirely.

     “…And more.” Quietly stepping by his side, a trajectory that had no endpoint but to wander aimlessly for a little while.

     “My friends have also arrived! I would so love for you to meet them sometime. You could use a few more companions yourself, isn’t that right? To keep you out of trouble and whatnot…Tee hee.”

“Sounds like I have to make for lost time one way or another then. Though, I’ll have you know, I have dozens of friends. More than I can count on one hand.”

It was, in fact, very difficult to properly count zero using fingers.

“Still I am curious to see what sort of company a queen keeps, even if I doubt we’ll mix all that well.”

He laughs, but the corners of his eyes are drawn in by the fading image of something distant. It was something he had expected long ago, but had forgotten over time. Ganser knew well enough that even the most dignified of princess often looked wistful at times, but the thought of such an expression lingering on her for just a second seemed to hold him captive. Enough at least, to keep him from noticing the pit in the ground that catches his foot. 

“Ah...!”

     What was that? Real, genuine honesty? Even if it’s not, the expression he uses to speak with is enough to touch the Queen’s heart.

     “Oh… Tee hee. Well I did not see who could have done such a thing, but I think they might be very happy to hear that.” The threat of razor blades under honey disappears after his apology, now it was all sweetness as she stepped forward to loop his arm into hers. 

     “Come on~ We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we?”

“Glad I could make a stranger happy if that’s the case.”

A quiet laugh escaped him as a familiar weight assaulted his arm. He believed that she never quite understood the meaning of ‘personal space’ but he’d never admit that he didn’t quite mind it. It was another comfort that came with consistency, even if he liked to do his best to ruin it one way or another.

“That we do. If I’m right on my timing, I missed the annual winter ball. A shame.”

     “Oh, my! Ganser?” A sweet smile flutters onto her lips with a blinding innocence. “I did not see you there.” Unlike the boy who seemed as if he peered into the mouth of a ferocious beast, Marie had no indication of any other emotion than pure happiness. Perhaps that was the scariest part of it all…

     “Tee hee. It has been a while… How do they say… Hmm… ‘Sup?”

“Straight to colloquialisms, is it..?”

It was as he feared. He was in trouble. He’d been in similar spots in the past, and while they were the last thing he’d like to repeat, dealing with them was at least somewhat simple. Honesty was never something that came naturally to him, but it had its time and place. 

Now was a pretty good time.

“I don’t suppose you saw the owner of this baguette then either?”

@balderdashsyndrome

     Something hits his head faster than the reflexes of a wild cat. Looking to the side where it falls he may find a very hard baguette. Looking about twenty feet behind him, he may find the culprit, poised perfectly as she always was.

He had just enough time to wince after the impact before the realization hit him even harder. It was almost funny to him how little somethings changed. Consistency was something he often lacked so it was nice to be able to expect certain things in advance.

Even if what he expected was likely something to the tune of a scolding. 

He wouldn’t protest. From the same perspective he looked at where he found it funny, he also found that he completely deserved this. Choking out a laugh that certain creatures would mistake as a cry for help, he faced the girl with the closest he could manage to a smile.

“G-good afternoon, princess. I trust you’ve been well...?”

Taking one of the several flower crowns he’d collected over his time in the festivities and placing it on the girl’s head, he spoke casually as if no time had past since they last saw each other at all.

“I see it fits you better than it does me.”

“Have you been enjoying the festivities, princess?”

“Oh, hi Ganser! I’m doing just fine– ah! Here, have one of these.”

Carefully, you slip the flower crown you’ve been making onto Ganser’s head. It’s woven delicately with white roses, bluebells, and baby’s breath.

“Now we both have a crown.”

“But what about you? Are you enjoying yourself?”

You’re completely oblivious to how silly he’s being. Ganser will be Ganser.

“Why aren’t we festive today...look at that, we match.”

He laughed to himself since the young man didn’t seem to bat an eye to his foolishness. Always in stride, this one. It was oddly comforting if not a little worrying.

YOU

“Me indeed, Jekyll.”

“No! If she does not like it then I can’t possibly justify inconveniencing her by giving her the gift. If that were to happen I’d have no choice but to break myself!” 

“Bre-...I won’t ask. I refuse. However, if it’s that dire...”

     Gasping at such cuteness, please allow five seconds to marvel at such a little blessing…. 

     …

     “Mr. Kitty is right, you know!”

     “You can’t view this from a scholarly standpoint, otherwise the gift will feel empty and all girls in the world will hate you! Chocolate is the right answer, but record it with your heart, not your brain. Do you understand?” Glasses: adjusted.

“I can hardly call myself the popular type to start with, but there’s a certain type of person that can proudly call themselves ‘the enemy of all women’.”

“Chocolate? But I hardly know anything about chocolate. I don’t think the ‘why’ or ‘how’ matters so much as getting it right. What should I do? I need to give it to her, but what if she doesn’t like chocolate? If I upset her by giving it to her I would be upset as well.” 

“Suppose you’re right about the how and why, even if I’m a bit curious about it myself...”

     Marie nods, with the utmost innocent intention of absolutely not cleaning that up. Anyway, there is teaching to be done.

     A one-word lesson, listen wisely son of Malady, for these three syllables will serve as the gateway for glorious things, glorious indeed. Tapping upon her designer glasses that suddenly have appeared, Marie gives a beaming grin.

     “Chocolate!”

“Is that a fact...?”

Duchess floated down from above him with a memo pad in her mouth. Lax and shifty as he may have tried to appear, Ganser was a vigilant student. It was only natural that he’d be taking notes in response.

“I’ll be certain to remember that, instructor.”

It had been only seconds after he made a point to add ‘Chocolate’ (circled several times for emphasis) to a short list of things, when Holiday lept up and snatched the pad from his hands before taking off.

“H-Holiday...! Dammit!”