The hallway to the dungeons was all but quiet, save for the soft padding of leather boots, and the additional louder set of metal sabatons against the golden floors. Safatore sported a royal blue robe, the one he always wore when he went outside the Castle of Ancients, the one with white accents and the big buttons. His blonde hair was flowing down his back and shoulders, preen and proper. Behind him, the elven guards Eref and Irstte followed stiffly, their hands gripping their spears.
He glanced at them once to take in their ambiance and a warm smile crept onto his lips.
"No need to be so rigid. It's only my brother."
The words sent some almost imperceptible shudders through the pair's frames, their eyes flickering with something akin to dread.
Safatore chuckled, his cheeks adopting those easy dimples that always softened his features even more. It was amusing how with all the tens of thousands of years these guards had between themselves and Saka, they still bristled at his mention. He turned to face forward again, and in a few steps, they made it to the cell and stopped.
Safatore leaned into the warmly lit room, looking past the bars and saw him. His youngest brother, wearing nothing but some black trousers, his hair not in its usual ponytail state, silvery ropes coiled around his figure. He was lying on his back on top of what one would call a luxurious bed, for a dungeon bedding.
Safatore gestured for the guards to open the cell bars. Eref unlocked it, allowing the Crown Prince to enter, before he and his partner stood far off by the entrance, not daring a step closer.
The blonde paladin grinned as he approached the pale white young elf.
"What did you do to the poor souls?"
He chuckled.
Saka, whose mouth was no longer restrained by the muzzle, his eyes locked onto the ceiling, all but deadpanned:
"They dared keep watch over me in my own space."
Safatore chuckled before he received a curt:
"What do you want? Here to rub your victory in my face? I saw how cooperative and delighted you were to indulge in the council's useless delegations yesterday."
Safatore pouted, a playful glint in his eyes.
"No. I am here to actually congratulate you on your betrothal."
Saka's head finally moved from the ceiling and his sharp grey eyes landed and locked with Safatore's bright green ones.
"You think this is funny?"
You could almost differentiate between the playful candor in Safatore's eyes and the bitter glare in Saka's eyes.
The older elf chuckled.
"I'll admit it amused me to some degree, but the way I see it, this is perfect. At least you won't be stuck with someone a millennia older than you."
"I would literally marry anyone else!"
Saka's growl filled the cell, Eref and Irstte flinching from where they stood, their hands gripping their spears even tighter. But Safatore remained unfazed, that grin he knew infuriated Saka still playing on his lips.
"I still think it's perfect."
"Of course, you do. You enjoy being a front for those eight." Saka bit out.
Safatore raised an eyebrow. "A front?" He tilted his head. "Maybe. But if you stopped trying to attack people in front of the court–"
"What court?"
"–you wouldn't be tied up in a cell like a common dog."
"..."
There was a beat of silence as Saka blankly stared at his eldest brother, their eyes locked.
"Get out of my cell."
"Okay," Safatore chuckled and turned away, walking back to Eref and Irstte, turning back to add. "But you will learn to love this. She's a clever girl."
"So clever she's stupid." Saka bit out. "The first thing I'm going to do when I'm released from this dungeon is rip out your arms."
The threat was genuine and heavy but Safatore still laughed.
"I love you too."
The guards locked the cell after Safatore exited, and the snow white elf was left alone, still lying back, an irritated look on his face.
"Tch. Smiling bastard." He muttered to himself.
* * *
The surface of the water slightly bulged and rose, immediately parting to let him emerge from beneath. His eyes were closed as he softly gasped for air, his hair sticking to his face. Hiroko gingerly wiped his face, a soft and quiet exhale slipping through his lips as he leaned back against the bath.
Five years without a bath would do a number on a person. Especially when the only way to keep yourself somewhat clean was through consuming shadows that tasted like emotions.
He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the sight of red rose petals that floated above the water surrounding him. It was warm and wet, soothing and strange all at once. It felt foreign but also good! There was, however, nothing he could do about the purple stains on his hands. The water could not wash away five years of beet juice from his skin or in his teeth. He gently rubbed his fingertips to check, just to confirm it again.
His first bath after five years! What a life!
He glanced aside, a brief thought of April flickering into his mind. She really hadn't aged at all. And now she was getting engaged? His eyebrows twitched before he brushed the thoughts and images away. There was no need to get concerned for her. She probably did something more stupid before what she did at the court. He leaned back against the bath, listening to his head. And then he heard it; that sweet little whisper in his ear. Enticing.
"You tried to help her but you suffered instead…"
Hiroko quickly jerked up, looking behind him to see who would be in the room with him. There was no one. But he could've sworn he felt warm breathing against his ear. He tried to unblock his ear and listened for a moment. All he heard was silence. So he finally got out of the bath and emerged into his gifted room, a towel covering his waist downwards.
He was standing by his plush golden bed when he paused and his shoulders slightly squared.
"If you're going to spy on me, you might as well do it from a better hiding spot."
He didn't turn around. His voice was even, not a quiver, and not an angry tone.
Beside the front door, Kakuro finally moved, her glowing blue eyes glinting with a distant light as she pushed off the wall and approached the half-naked man. She stopped at an arm's length when Hiroko turned around and faced her, standing a foot and a half taller than her, his purple eyes landing on her.
He took in her appearance. No armor, no helmet.
"Huh. You're not one of them." He noticed her rounded ears. "May I help you in some kind of way, miss?"
Kakuro's lazulite blue eyes narrowed. "You broke my sword." She mumbled, her voice full of indignant fury.
Hiroko raised an eyebrow. He could see the storm of emotions swirling in her hard expression, as if she was barely keeping it all together.
"Uh, no. Sorry, but you broke your own sword against my leg." He pointed at her, his other hand still holding onto the towel around his waist.
Kakuro's eyes narrowed to slits. "What kind of man wears rock armor?"
"What kind of woman slashes a rock with a sword?" Hiroko countered, raising his eyebrows.
A moment of silence passed by. But then Kakuro started circling him.
"So you're the newest addition to our mountain cohort." She trailed her eyes up his still frame, taking in the way he stood like he was being confronted by a child. "You are a pretty decent golem master, I suppose."
Hiroko sighed, clearly not bothered by her predatory stalking.
"I feel like I'm being sized up. If I'd known I'd be in a surprise interview, I would have worn… something."
Kakuro continued:
"You look strong, you look healthy. You have a great bone structure." She prodded her finger against the small of his back.
Hiroko's eyes slightly widened as he felt a sudden shudder run down his back, a look of surprise sweeping over his features.
"Ahem. Thank you." He cleared his throat and stood still as she continued to assess him.
"But none of that crap is important if you don't know how to wield a sword!" Kakuro barked, driving a solid punch to his abs.
Hiroko gasped slightly, his lips parting, but other than that, he didn't flinch or move, neither stagger nor cringe.
Kakuro, who noticed, blinked in surprise and stepped back, Hiroko's eyes following her.
"I feel like I'm with my father's karate instructors once again." Hiroko mumbled to himself.
Kakuro straightened up, keeping her expression blank. "There are currently only three people who watch over Mount Jagged. Father, my sister, and I; Shinonome Kakuro. What is your designation?"
"Kemosabe Hiroko?" He answered as he watched her suddenly pause.
"A feminine name?" She asked dryly, her eyebrows raised.
"It's got history." Hiroko huffed. He didn't like the note of amusement and sarcasm in her voice. No one in the orphanage he grew up with ever had an idea of the gender classification of his name, and this was a little irritating.
Kakuro stepped back, an eyebrow cocked.
"History? Did your father hope for a girl instead?"
"At least it's a real name." Hiroko didn't even try to deny it. He was not going to entertain this woman.
He saw how her eyebrows pulled together. "What do you mean by that?"
Hiroko sneered. "You said your name is Kakuro."
"It is a real name!!"
"But is it Japanese?" Hiroko crowed, clearly loving how this was turning out. He was aware of how much he was getting under the samurai's skin and it was somewhat refreshing. It had been a while since he had a simple back and forth with literally anyone other than Rocky.
"It's my samurai name." Kakuro declared through her teeth, her eyes flashing with annoyance.
"Still not a real name." Hiroko winced.
"Yours is still feminine."
"Still Japanese."
Kakuro huffed and took a step back, her cheeks dusted with a light pink, her brow wrinkled by the frown on her face. She gritted her teeth and pressed out a heavy breath, clearly trying her best to not get any angrier.
Hiroko smirked before he schooled his expression. "So. Glad that's over and past with. Now, I know you've had it all along and I can obviously see it. My sword, please."
He extended his purple hand to her, his eyes never leaving hers. Kakuro exhaled and unsheathed the blade from the metal scabbard hanging at her waist. Immediately, the purple flames on its blade were no longer hidden. She held it by the hilt and extended it to Hiroko. Hiroko wrapped his fingers around the blazing blade. At that contact, the fire seemed to grow and flicker more lively, as if alive and recognizing its owner.
Hiroko tugged slightly, trying to take the sword but Kakuro didn't budge, holding onto the hilt like a challenge. Hiroko raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, we're going to do this?"
He tugged again, this time harder, and still, Kakuro refused to let go. He sighed, and hardened his grip. The blade bit through his flesh. Crimson blood trickled out. The moment it came into contact with the flames, it was like pouring fuel into a bonfire. The flames roared as they burned hotter and brighter.
Kakuro flinched and jumped back a mere second before her hand got scorched, her eyes wide in astonishment more than rage.
Hiroko scoffed softly, resting the flaming blade over his shoulder.
"It likes me better."