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#coins weren’t used as earrings for luck but rather tossing one into the sea for safe travels
the-last-quest · 6 months
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Sails didn’t consider himself to be too superstitious. He knew that charms and curses didn’t do anything. They were just stories that people made up to find confort, or to shun things they see as different.
Nevertheless, like many pirates he had good luck charms that were always on his person. They were a pair of earrings, a golden hoop and a coin. Well technically they weren’t earrings anymore Sails had broken off the studs, he wasn’t going to get his ears pierced again.
Sails didn’t actually believe that the two pieces of gold would bring him any luck, they hadn’t before so why would they now. Still he kept them tucked into his bandana, right where they would’ve sat before, because he wanted to.
He wanted to believe that they would protect him like he was told they would.
He wanted to believe her last words to him.
He wanted to believe that this time, with this crew, his luck could finally change.
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minetteenfers · 3 years
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Lucky Cat - Day 1: Bad Luck (Adrien AUG-reste 2021)
Here is Day 1: Bad Luck of @adrienaugust!
Read, kudo, comment, or bookmark the fic here! (RATED E)
Captain Chat Noir was merely nine years old when he was tossed overboard from his father’s galleon for disobeying orders. Some said that he was born from bad luck and so he was given the name, Chat Noir due to the superstition of black cats. Having a polydactyl black cat on board a vessel was good luck and so he hoped being named after such would bring him some. But no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to bring him it.
He sighed and fell back into his wooden chair, bringing his mug of grog to his lips as his good luck charm leaped onto his desk. The sliding of his black cat’s paws along the maps and parchment made him curse. He grabbed the brass candle stick before it could fall to the floor and start a fire on the ship.
“Bastard cat,” Chat Noir cursed and brought his cup to his lips, taking a long drink and cringing at the less than favorable flavor. “God, I cannot wait to get to port, hm?” He scratched beneath his cat’s chin with a smirk. “Ladies, food, drink… supplies and a nice bath. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a nice warm bath and a warm bed with a wench in it.”
“What would any of us give, Captain.” Nino, his quartermaster, walked into his quarters to talk to him.
“What say you?” Chat Noir brought his boots down from his desk onto the wood deck and leaned onto his desk, trying to ignore how the sea made their vessel shift and bob. The weighted golden hoops in his ears only did so much to help with his sea sickness.
“We’re arriving at port soon, Captain.” Nino brought his mug of grog to his lips and sat down on Chat Noir’s bed.
“How soon?” Chat Noir ran his fingers behind Plagg’s twitching ears and scratched before a mouse distracted the aloof cat and made him run off. Chat Noir peered up at Nino with interest, finishing his drink.
“Few hours.” Nino shrugged, unsure of how soon they would be there exactly. He could only guess, which Chat Noir had taken into account.
“Gather a log of supplies that need to be replenished until then for me.” Chat Noir gestured for his friend to go away to do his duties.
“Yes, Captain.” Nino nodded and left Chat Noir alone.
Chat Noir sighed and stood up, walking over to a wooden chest to get ready. He crouched down and opened it, taking in the items that filled the inside. From clothing to treasures that he had gathered along the way as a pirate. When he was nine years old Captain Fu had found him floating on a bit of wood in the middle of the ocean. He had saved him and given him the very name he was known by. Of course, tales had broken out as he had aged. None of them pretty.
He was known for pillaging, plundering, and more unpleasantries, but those that truly knew him… which were few… knew that he wasn’t as they said. Yes, he set vessels aflame but only those that had wronged him or those he cared most about, and he had never murdered anyone. He merely would place them on an island, plunder their vessel, and then set it ablaze. Sometimes, he would simply use the element of surprise and take what he needed before leaving. Occasionally, he would tell a simple fantastical story to get what he needed, using empty threats to accomplish it. But he never murdered a man, woman, or child.
He lived by the power of vote as most did within piracy, letting every man have a chance to speak and give their case. Nothing on board was done without putting it through vote and booty was split equally amongst his crew. Most captains would take a higher cut, but he never wanted it. He’d rather stay an equal to an extent, which many did not agree with.
Chat Noir quickly went to work getting ready to go ashore, throwing on an elaborate outfit made from fabulous emerald silks and black fabrics. He rarely dressed up due to the amount of water that sloshed across the deck and along his feet. Most of his men went barefoot and wore a mishmash of clothing depending on what they had scavenged from vessels.
He focused on getting ready, trying to not think about how many more knots they had to travel still to reach the treasure that lied beneath the waves. A treasure that everyone around him was after as well. He sighed and peered up as his quartermaster returned with a log of what they needed for the rest of their journey.
“We are at port, Captain.” Nino nodded and left Chat Noir alone again.
Chat Noir nodded and grabbed his pistol, putting it in place on his holster, and headed to the docks to get off his galleon. A few men stayed on board to keep watch, as they stepped off it. He made his way down the pier, making sure one of his men was tending to the sale of jerky in order to get them some coin.
He hadn’t been to port in so long and all he wanted was a nice bath. A tavern stood off to the right and he headed towards it. But right as he was about to step foot inside, a commotion brought his attention elsewhere.
“Wife for sale! Beautiful and a good lay, she is! A fine wench!”
Chat Noir gritted his teeth, turning around to find a woman with dark hair piled up on top of her head and a dress that had seen better days. She seemed nervous and upset with the way tears streamed down her cheeks and her hands trembled in front of her hips. A loose rope was placed around her neck and the end of it trailed over to her husband. Her eyes were a beautiful blue that reminded him of the sea and something deep inside him drew him towards the auction. He hated practices such as this and usually he kept out of it, but he couldn’t when her saddened gaze locked on his. Her eyes were full of desperation, and he could practically hear her cries for help.
Chat Noir sighed and raised a hand to bid. All around him, men whistled and hollered. They laughed and called her atrocious names. Chat Noir knew it was bad luck to bring a woman on board his vessel, but there was nothing else he could do. He had to save her, had to have her.
He raised his hand again to bid. It took a few more raises before he outbid everyone and secured her as his property. She looked worried and scared as her husband took the mysterious man’s coin and passed him the rope.
“You needn’t do that,” the woman sighed and peered down at her feet.
“Let’s get this off you, m’lady.” Chat Noir took the rope from around her neck, shocking her more.
“I promise to make you happy, sir,” she curtsied, and Chat Noir sighed.
“I don’t wish for your services. What’s your name?” Chat Noir rolled the rope around his elbow and hand before tossing the bundle aside.
“Marinette, sir.” She worried her bottom lip and didn’t meet his eyes.
“Captain Chat Noir,” Chat Noir held his hand out for her.
She placed her hand in his and he bowed to softly kiss along her knuckles. He stood up straight with a cunning smile. A blush fell on her cheeks, and she let her bottom lip go.
“Thank you, Captain Chat Noir.” Marinette bowed slightly and followed him to the tavern.
“Are you hungry?” Chat Noir didn’t peer back at her as he led her into the establishment that he had been headed towards to begin with.
“Famished,” Marinette swallowed hard, taking in the music and women being railed against various surfaces.
Men played cards and drank, while eyeing the wenches around them. She licked her lips and swallowed hard, wondering who exactly she had gotten saved by. If she could even call it that at this point. She was beginning to wonder if her good luck had worn out.
“Do you intend to lie with me?” Marinette swallowed hard as he pulled out a chair for her to sit down.
“No. Did you want for me to?” Chat Noir smirked and winked at her from across the table.
“No, no. I just- I assumed since you bought me as your property…” Marinette hid in her hair and Chat Noir burst out laughing.
“If I wanted a quick fuck, I would grab one of these cheap whores.” Chat Noir raised a hand and swirled it around to gesture to the room. “I actually felt sorry for you, m’lady, or should I call you wench.”
Marinette covered her mouth as she burst out in a sharp giggle. She brought her hand down and licked her lips with a blush, “You are quite crass, Captain Noir.”
“So, I’ve been told. How about some food and drink? Surely, you did say you were famished, did you not?” Chat Noir winked at her before standing up to go to the bar to order them sustenance.
Marinette sat at the table, playing with her skirt and taking in the dirty fabric. Her husband and her hadn’t had much money and he had been selling her in order to pay a debt that he owed. She hadn’t married him for love, but rather because she was expected to. What she didn’t expect was for her husband to sell her off, but it was the way it worked. Was it legal? No, but there was no way to divorce her, so the next best thing was to sell her at port like the rest of stock around her. But for some reason this Captain had chosen to save her, and she wasn’t sure if this was a good omen or not.
She swallowed hard, watching the man walk back to her with a certain way about him. He was stopped along the way by a wench, but as he spoke to her, he kept his eyes locked on Marinette instead. A few moments later and he was on his way back to their table and setting down plates of food and drink.
“Sure you weren’t a wench for a time, Captain?” Marinette teased and giggled, as he smirked and sat down.
“So, maybe I was.” Chat Noir winked at her and picked up a roll to take a bite from it. “And you? What’s your story?”
“I was forced into a loveless marriage and when he needed debts paid… he brought me here to be auctioned with the rest of the lot.” Marinette shrugged and swallowed hard. “You?”
“Doubt I need to share my story with you. I’m sure you’ve heard enough,” Chat Noir scoffed and brought his cup of ale to his lips.
“I actually have not.” Marinette brought a vegetable to her lips.
“Really?” Chat Noir was surprised to say the least that she hadn’t heard of him.
“Nope. Your name isn’t familiar to me, but that might be because my husband tried to keep me from piracy and privateering.” Marinette sighed and fell back against her chair. “So, enlighten me.”
Chat Noir chewed on his bottom lip, realizing that he could actually tell her who he truly was, and the rumors wouldn’t corrupt her like so many others. He stabbed a piece of meat and ate it before he began to tell his story.
“I was tossed off a ship at the age of nine by my father for being disobedient. I probably floated in the ocean for days on a piece of driftwood before an old Chinese man found me. His name was Captain Fu. He took me aboard and as I grew up and learned sailing along with traditional Chinese medicine, I commandeered my own vessel. Of course, I joined the great race to find the lost treasure that is spilled through the Caribbean because what else is a man to do, who has nothing else to live for. No family, no job, no nothing. All I know is sailing and traditional medicine.” Chat Noir poked at the food on his plate.
“So, naturally, all you can do is Captain a vessel,” Marinette nodded and put a piece of meat into her mouth.
“Exactly, m’lady, all I know to do is such. Of course, that means that I also must pillage vessels. I started with a sloop and moved up to a galleon, taking in men who felt useless and giving them something to do with their idle hands besides pleasuring themselves for sport.” Marinette choked on her ale at the last words that fell from his mouth.
“I beg your pardon.” Marinette set her mug down.
“You understood,” Chat Noir winked at her and took a sip from his mug. “Men get lonely at sea. Either you pick a mate to have your way with or you got your hand. Pick wisely. One knows when to shut up and just take it.”
“Again, I hope you’ve gathered that I am not always one to just ‘shut up and take it’, Captain Noir.” Marinette gave him an insulted expression.
“I gathered you weren’t, m’lady. I wasn’t meaning you or any lady that is.” Chat Noir smiled and went back to eating.
“Even a wench?” She stressed the last word with a blush.
“Even a wench,” Chat Noir smiled and froze when he felt fingertips run along his shoulders.
They leaned closer and whispered against his ear, “Would you like to have a go, Captain?”
Chat Noir set down his utensil and peered over his shoulder to smile at the woman, “Not tonight, love, but I see a gentleman over there that is looking for a flower like you.”
She nodded and took off towards a man, who was watching from far away. Chat Noir gave his attention back to Marinette with a warm smile. She was beyond shocked that he hadn’t taken the offer.
“Call me surprised,” Marinette finished her meal.
“What?” Chat Noir raised an eyebrow at her.
“You didn’t take her up on her offer.” Marinette shrugged and picked up her mug.
“I believe I told you if I was looking for a quick fuck I-” Chat Noir was interrupted by the woman across from him.
“Then you would grab one of these cheap whores. I understood quite well, Captain.” Marinette brought her mug to her lips and finished her drink. “But am I not one?”
“No,” Chat Noir shook his head and finished his meal.
“How do you gather?” Marinette crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “I already said I wouldn’t put up a fight.”
“That doesn’t make you a whore, m’lady.” Chat Noir stood up and grabbed his plate, taking hers as well.
Marinette watched him take the dishes back to the bar, tapping on the side of her mug. He was an odd man with how he could be so crass and unapologetic yet nice at the same time. It confused her. She didn’t know which side was him.
He walked back and held out his arm for her. She stood up and took it, following him out of the tavern. “Now, surely you know the rules of the sea.”
“I’m afraid I do not, Captain.” Marinette sighed, letting him stroll her around the port.
“If I let you on my ship… it’s bad luck and a capital offense to have a woman on board.” Chat Noir cleared his throat and stopped, turning her around to face him.
“So, you’ll have to leave me.” Marinette peered down, realizing what he was saying.
“No, but you’ll need a disguise to board my ship, love.” Chat Noir touched beneath her chin and raised her saddened gaze to his. “We’ll be needing clothes for ya.” He winked at her and watched a smile appear on her lips.
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aesop1 · 5 years
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clumsy [1]
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pirate!chanyeol x reader
a/n: hello, im new. i like exo. i decided to write to my heart’s content at 1 am. i wrote this in about an hour. on my phone. with no beta readers. so let’s do this!
word count: 3.1 k
warnings: none so far, just a few swear words; no semblance of a plot; may not continue this, depends on how i feel.
(i do not own gif)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
———————-
“yn, would you help me with this load?” your father called out from the front of the saloon. glancing over, you spotted him stumbling whilst balancing two large crates atop one another. he sighed in relief as you claimed the top crate. “thank you.”
“of course,” you carefully traversed the cobblestone incline leading to said saloon, ignoring the murmurs from the customers within.
in your small village on a small island, everyone knew everyone. meaning everyone knew you: the klutz who co-runs this place with her widowed father. by klutz, you’re not the cute, clumsy, trip-over-her-feet-into-a-dashing-gentleman’s-arms klutz; you’re zone-out-for-a-second-and-not-notice-the-wooden-bench-you-just-successfully-flipped-over klutz. after your third grand mishap, everyone labelled you as variations of clumsy, one of the most famous ones being:
“bungler, do you need help?” one of the men clung to the bar called out, earning some dramatic guffaws from his colleagues.
the first moment you heard the term bungler, you laughed. your father quickly explained to you the negative connotation revolving that word, basically calling you clumsy and awkward in a rather mocking sense. ever since, it has stuck to your character and become your alias around town.
successfully dropping the crate in the kitchen, you leaned back in your stance, hands on your hips as you caught your breathe. the rough melodies of traditional sea shanties meandered through the kitchen, taunting and reminding you that outside awaits a whole audience of creatures who are just waiting for your next spectacle. you were brought back to reality by the sound of the other crate being placed on yours.
“yn, dear,” your father gently pinched your chin as he took in your conflicted form. “head upstairs, I’ll finish up here and close. you’ve worked hard today, as you always do. thank you.” with a smile and the familiar burning sensation in your eyes, you held back your tears and thanked your father, hugging him and sliding out of the kitchen to evacuate to your room.
upon entering, you untied your apron and tossed it to your bed, cracking your joints everywhere as you finally allowed relaxation to overtake your being. collapsing onto your bed, you closed your eyes for a well deserved moment. you knew it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be so clumsy, but having a whole town mock you really takes a toll on you, as it would anyone else.
they treated you as if you were a jester, as if you were meant to appease to their humor, their entertainment. you were a show pony with a twisted ankle and they merely laughed. finally allowing a tear to slip to your pillow, you clutched the linen blankets beneath you, seeking some sort of comfort. some escape. you sat upright and stared out the bay window overlooking the vast sea.
before her death, your mother spent her days filling your mind with wonders and promises of a better life out beyond the horizon. stories of princes saving princesses and knights conquering territories. however, your father kept you grounded with his forewarnings of sea storms and pirates. oh how pirates petrified you. filthy criminals gone rogue, pillaging villages just like yours for some excitement and wealth, murdering those in sight for any reason they can think of. if they didn’t like your face, they’d carve it out cleanly just for fun. the memories of the horrific tales your father would whisper to you as scary stories always turned your blood cold, all before your mother would hit him for scaring you and then comfort you with her own stories.
a sudden chill ran up your spine as you continued to admire the ripples of the ocean, a foreboding aura emitting off the once tranquil site. shuffling to lay down, you pulled the blankets over your head, trying to shake off the fear that coursed through your veins.
—–
a deafening screech outside jolted you awake, sitting up and hyperventilating as you took in your surroundings. you were in your room still, wearing the same clothes you wore to work. everything would’ve been normal if it weren’t for the glow of red flooding your room from the fires just outside. peering out the window, you choked on your breathe when you saw your childhood town in flames, bodies littering the floor like a war scene. screams continued to fill the atmosphere, clashing metal sending a numbing sensation through your body.
ignoring your fears, you willed yourself out of bed and bounded down the halls to find your father, grateful you had decided to wear pants the day prior. however, lady luck decided to turn a blind eye to you, sending you skidding down the hall and falling directly on your back. while you attempted to catch your breath, you rolled over and peered down the staircase before you. if you were struggling to inhale before, the scene before greatly helped your misfortune when a sharp gasp hit you.
your father lied dead right at the open doorway, a shadowed figure towering over him. due to your rather raucous scene, the silhouette was staring directly at you. frozen for a moment, you stared at one another, a prey subject to it’s predator’s deathly gaze. with a pivot your way, the pirate took one step towards you which sprung you to action, clambering to your feet and dashing down the hall again, ignoring the ache in your muscle. realizing you’re trapped, you took a sharp left into your father’s room, scanning for a weapon you could use. of course he had nothing, spending his days in his kitchen every chance he had.
a deep chuckle resonated through your house, overcoming the chaos outside. the blood rushing to your ears blurred the sounds outside, leaving you hypersensitive to the thudding of his boots stamping on the weak wood of the stairs. your heart leapt, running entirely on adrenaline rather than reason.
with that in mind, you already found yourself clawing out the window and grasping the dense vines lining the walls. rather than traipsing down like any same person would’ve, you instead climbed up onto the roof. your father wasn’t really one for house maintenance, the many missing shingles proving that statement. scaling the treacherous terrain beneath you was a harder feat than you could ever imagine, a shingle skidding off the roof right past your father’s window most likely giving away your location.
with no other option in mind, you stood there, overlooking the ashes of your now ruined community. a pang of sadness hit you as you spotted the bloodied face of your taunter from earlier and you shut your eyes. probably not the best idea, especially when the thump behind you startled you to death, another shingle sliding out from beneath your feet. for the second time that night, you fell, the impact causing a snowball effect of loose shingles giving out. you rolled off the roof entirely, plummeting directly to the ground and blacking out.
——–
faint voices enticed you from your slumber, pulling you into consciousness. you weren’t aware of the first few minutes of the conversation, but as you came to more, it became clearer and clearer.
“it was a pretty good load, I’ll give you that,” a voice chuckled out, followed by the familiar sound of coins clinking together into a pile.
“I told you so,” a vaguely familiar voice chimed in. the depth of the voice almost lulled you right back to sleep, your brain now concentrating on how smooth and alluring it was.
“why hadn’t we attacked before?” the first voice asked, steps getting louder and louder. or maybe it was just the pounding in the back of your head.
“it’s such a tiny speck on the map, I didn’t even think about going there before. who knew it was such a hotspot for trading.” the steps were indeed getting louder, as well as the voices. especially that buttery rich voice that could fill a theatre with ease. “they didn’t even have a militia.”
“they deserved to be hit by us, they were too comfortable with their safety.” you rolled your head side to side, hoping to coax your eyes open before the two reached you. “what’s this?” your eyes shot open when you realized the voice was less than a meter away. you forced yourself to take in your surroundings, drowsiness still a very apparent factor in your muddled mind. wooden crates surrounded your being, a white tunic covering everything. you held your breathe as the cloth was lifted slightly, but not enough to reveal your concealed form.
“ah baekhyun took it after my incident.”
“what incident?” a snicker from the previous man resounded, then a long exhale.
“I went towards this saloon because I saw the owner dead at the front. I wanted to see if any of the guys were in there looting. by the time I reached the front door, I just saw a girl run, slip, and fall right on her ass at the top of the stairs. when she looked at me, she recovered and took off.” the other voice sniggered at the story of my misfortune. “I decided to follow her, I thought she was amusing. she disappeared for a minute, but then I saw a shingle fall. by the time I reached the roof, she was gone. not really sure how she got away so quickly. when I climbed down and out the front door, I saw baekhyun struggling to pull this supply barrow. so I helped him. I doubt anything useful is in this.”
“should we check?”
“I’m not really in the mood to sort out garbage, let’s just send jongdae and sehun down.”
“sounds good.” their voices began fading away before a door closed, completely muting them. you sat up, wincing at the throbbing sensation in your skull. pushing the tunic off, you discovered you were in a supply room of sorts. your bones ached, specifically your entire backside. you guess you fell directly into the barrow when you fell off the roof. you stretched your limbs forward, awakening the heavy weight of sleep from your body. turning your head, you noticed a porthole right beside you.
you crawled over, peering outwards to the endless blue. no signs of land anywhere and an eery stillness settling over the waters. your stomach sunk once your predicament clicked in your fuzzy mind; you were a stowaway on the ship of pirates who destroyed your village. even if you managed to find an escape from here, where would you go? your home was your father, the man who lie dead on your front door. a body of chilled air began suffocating you, your throat swelling up with the familiar forewarning of tears. you pulled your legs close to you and hugged yourself, the last person you had in this life.
the door creaked open, introducing two new voices. instinctively, you leapt out of the barrow, ignoring the pain shooting up your person and dived behind some other crates.
“so chanyeol said we had to clear out the barrow with the tunic,” one voice stated.
“I’m not seeing it,” the other voice answered. you decided to cautiously peek out to witness who you’re dealing with. a man, tall and thin yet by no means lanky. the other being on the shorter side, yet still significantly taller and stronger than you. you’re going to die. “there’s a tunic underneath this barrow, not on top.”
“well yeah that’s the only barrow in here, even if it didn’t have the white sheet over it, we still could’ve figured it out, idiot– wait.” silence fell over the two. you peeked out again to see the shorter man with his arms up in a halting position, most likely the man to cut himself off. “why would chanyeol describe it as having a tunic if it didn’t.”
“I don’t know, maybe it had the tunic when he came down and he just took it off.”
“why would he still describe it as that if he took it off himself?” more silence. the taller one stared down at the other, emotionless as he processed his words. without warning, he pulled out a sword from his side, backing away and scanning the room. the shorter one followed suit, revealing a sword of his own as he walked the opposite way of the taller one. he was walking right towards you.
holding your breath, you recoiled into the wall, praying that the boxes around you would shield yourself. it seems the tables were turning in your favor, because the man stepped by you, continuing to search for his trespasser. when he and the other man met at the other side of the long room, they shrugged to one another and turned towards the door.
“well that was weird,” the taller one mumbled in an agitated tone.
“let’s tell chanyeol. even if there’s no one on board, he should be aware of the possibility.” with that, the door opened and shut. for precautionary measures, you waited a minute or two, at least until your heart stabilized and your breathing evened out. you leaned back against the wooden walls and clawed at your olive toned pants. you were shaking, whether it be from fear or the dread which began appearing the minute you awoke, you were near your breaking point.
the spare drops of adrenaline motivating your weak heart caused you to finally stand. you crawled over the boxes carefully, making sure to not make a sound and alert anyone who may be nearby. although you knew the coast was clear since the two men left. all you had to do was find an escape and–
“how could we forget we were sent down here to check the garbage,” a voice from before blurted out as the doors slammed open, the other one laughing at the clear aggression evident in his comrades actions. without even thinking, you leapt back into your spot from before. of course you just had to stumble over the empty crate which had hidden you from the assailants, causing it to topple over with an unnecessarily loud crash.
there you sat, in the open, curled into yourself and staring at the two men who stared right back in shock. it felt like an eternity went by as you all refused to break the trance set by the three. your eyes darted between the taller one and the shorter one, taking in their young and… un-pirate like appearance.
you were expecting large, bulking men with wiry beards tinged with silver, scars over their blinded white eye with an eye patch resting comfortably on their forehead. layers upon layers of coats and ragged clothes to keep warm during cold ocean nights. maybe a hook or a peg-leg, but at that point you were stretching it.
at the end, it was the tall one who just so happened to cough and break the silent pact. you scrambled to your feet, the two men already grappling you before you could even stand erect. they both lugged you away, dragging your flailing and screaming body away.
splinters dug into your ankles, the only protectant you had being your stockings beneath your pants. the grip the men had on your arms were sure to leave bruises on your delicate skin. your screaming reduced to a series of pleads by the time you reached the deck of the ship. your eyes began blurring with the tears that you held back this entire time, the gravity of your situation hitting you.
they brought you to a hallway which lead you to a large room laced with treasures beyond your imagination. never have you seen so much gold in one landscape. jewels scattered across a rococo desk, necklaces lining any edge they could dangle freely on. a bed that could hold five yous and still have room for comfort sat against the edge of a wall, a scarlet duvet stretched across the planes of the bed like a coat of snow. candles were the only source of light here, no portholes in sight.
“where’s chanyeol?” the tall one asked aloud.
“I’m not sure. he went in here before we went downstairs.”
“we still have to clean out the barrow.”
“I know, sehun. fuck, why do you have to keep reminding me.”
“you seem tense, dae.” sehun reached his free arm to dae’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. dae immediately reacted by slapping his hand away.
“leave me the fu–” a door opening interrupted the two bickering, all attention directed towards the man leaving what you believe was his private restroom. “chanyeol.”
your eyes expanded when you met the face of the pirate who has been plaguing your life since last night. the roof pirate. he looked at the two men, then down at you. when his eyes landed on your helpless being, the twitch in his eyebrows revealed he remembered exactly who you were. with a clap of his hands, he took two long strides to stand before the three of you.
“well look at this,” he slurred out in a lazy manner, as if he had all the time in the world to deal with you. “you found my stray kitten. good work, boys.”
“your what?” sehun spluttered out, earning a smack in the back of his head from dae.
“jongdae, sehun, you are free to leave.” he never took his eyes off you, a smile slowly stretching upon his connivingly handsome face.
“do we still need to clean the–” another slap and a whine and they were gone, leaving you stranded on the floor with this man standing above you. the situation reminded you too much of the last scene you saw of your father lying dead beneath this man. you cowered away from his gaze, your cheek pressed against your shoulder. the man crouched to your level, grabbing your chin and turning you towards him. his hands were calloused, yet some warmth seeped through the rough exterior. rather than it being the comforting warmth of a fireplace or a home cooked meal, it felt more like the flames of hell themselves, tickling your skin with their embers. you were forced to stare at him, a demon trapped in the body of a boyishly attractive being. black hair tousled haphazardly like a nest, obsidian eyes darting around to each and every feature on your face, narrow cheeks cascading downwards into a sharp jawline.
“looks like I did manage to claim you after all,” he finally spoke, tapping his finger against your jaw. tonguing the side of his mouth, he leaned forward to your ear, fiery breathe sending shivers through you. “I’m going to make your life a living hell for trying to run away from me.”
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savinscripts · 5 years
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❝ Love is the biggest gamble of your life. ❞
The casino was massive. Built directly on the cliffs that made up one side of the private island, it faced out into the sea. The sun was just set, flaming the horizon with the soft colors of twilight. The lights of the casino lit up the night sky in contrasting shades of bright iridescent color that shifted through the spectrum as they swayed lazily back and forth. A sparkling fountain put on an equally impressive show out front, where marble mermaids beckoned casino patrons to toss in coins for good luck.
It was a sensory overload, yet remained elegant despite all the glitz. So to say Faye was impressed was an understatement. “You didn’t tell me it was this big,” she said, leaning towards Fane as they walked arm in arm towards the entrance. Faye slipped her hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver piece, tossing it to the mermaid that was making eyes at them as they circled the fountain towards the entrance. She blew them a kiss, and turned to the next patron.
Faye only smiled, and leaned her head back against Fane’s shoulder. They were dressed to the nines. Black tie was the theme for the evening. Faye wore a floor-length gown, split full up to her hip on one side. Stilettos gave her another couple of inches, but she still barely came to Fane’s shoulder. Her hair was up in a loose, elegant twist. Sparkling hairpins held it in place. A small bit of jewelry hung from ears and sparked at her wrist, but otherwise she was unadorned.
Fane had his own decoration (though Faye’s favorite bit wasn’t readily apparent). Not that he needed any help, as he already cut an impressive and striking figure. He drew eyes from all around the venue as they approached. They both did. Faye grinned. “How’re you doing, love?” she whispered. “So many beautiful bodies already undressing you. I’d be surprised if we got through one round of cards before someone asks to take you home.”
This past week on the island had been better then Faye could have ever dreamed. She was fast coming to wish they’d done this sooner. And even if they only had a couple of weeks left here, Faye was going to make sure that she and Fane got the most out of this vacation. Because the real world was waiting back in London. A murderer was still out there. And Faye had to catch them. Before they killed again. They may already have. There was no way of contacting either her or Fane here. They’d made sure of it. It was part of their deal to forget about the outside for awhile. So while the thoughts lingered in the back of Faye’s mind, they didn’t push forward enough to take over what was happening right now.
Waking up that morning with his choice of-- gift, to put his present adornment from his beloved was an experience and quite frankly not a comfortable one at all. Considering the fact he’d been rather rudely awoken during the night and left awake in discomfort while waiting for the pain of the contraption to send his typical morning wood into fast retreat. Several times throughout the the day he’d been forced to endure the discomfort in a similar fashion, no doubt a deliberate choice on Faye’s behalf but it had admittedly left him feeling just a fraction more on edge than he might have otherwise.
A full day, at least for him and his typical drive after all, felt like a goddamn eternity and a painful one at that. And the other thing was, there was no way for him to personally remove it, magic imbued into the contraption meaning only with Faye’s permission and wish would it offer him any relief. Thankfully no padlocks meant he didn’t rattle like the tin-can man from those Oz movies when he walked, and several times throughout the length of the day they had both caught others taking the time to admire the enhanced bulge the contraption also resulted being displayed rather prominently through the tighter material of his shorts and trousers. Well-endowed indeed but bloody uncomfortable and honestly very, very frustrated. Just as much when she’d stepped out in that dress that had once again, left him sat on the bed rearranging his trousers and grimacing at the latent rolling boil he felt deep in his belly. More than once he’d thrown the odd barbed name or comment at her, and while some might think he was genuinely pissed it was quite the opposite. Nuances to their relationship that only she could decipher and she knew, after all, that if he truly had issue he would tell her such.
“Of course it’s big, everything on this island is big, me included ” he murmured as they walked at a lazy pace towards the casino. But her teasing reminder of what might come from tonight caused him to huff, “well enough I guess,” he grumbled just a little but it softened when he saw the happiness glimmering in her gaze. “Well, they’ll have to ask you whether they can take me home-- not much I can do myself tonight after all.” With the mermaid appeased they trailed on, his hand sitting low on the curve of her hip deliberate so that when the fancy took him he could touch her how he pleased. Not that anyone on this island would care, except perhaps to watch him do so. He already had in mind the things he wanted to do to her tonight once his freedom was returned.
Faye would never do something that Fane hadn’t agreed to fully. And he had. In exchange for something. What that was remained to be seen, but Faye had agreed to it readily. She trusted him implicitly. As he did her. Hence the cage she’d magicked around his cock earlier in the day. Pain was part of pleasure, and could enhance the experience if one knew what they were doing. And Faye knew exactly what she was doing. It was a slow torture, but one that would be worth it in the end.
His rising mood only told her it was working. The sharp barbs he tossed at her evidence of that. Faye knew what they were, and a sly grin slid across her face as she’d watch him fidget uncomfortably. Though if he’d really wanted out, or was in true pain, or uncomfortable - psychologically - then she would cancel the charm instantly. He only had to say the word. But he hadn’t yet, despite some of the filthy things he’d said to her. Which in turn - though she’d become slightly better at hiding it - was pushing her willpower to it’s limits. Hearing him say such things fueled her own fire, which is why she chose to wear nothing beneath the flimsy bit of material that called itself a dress. She was hoping to push him a bit further tonight, which is why she’d chosen such an outfit in the first place.
“That you are,” she smiled lazily at him. Faye looked around. She wasn’t used to so much glamour in one place. Her job was not glamorous in any way. Some people thought it was. That being an auror came with fame and notoriety. And it did. If you caught the big bad. If you saved the kidnapped child. Stopped the wizard or witch that had gone on a murdering spree. Then you were the hero. But fail… and you were looked at with disdain. With hatred. Why couldn’t you save them? Why didn’t you act faster? Why didn’t you do this instead of that?? It was a duality that a lot couldn’t handle. But Faye had long since stopped caring what the public thought. She did her job, did it well, and left the hero status to others. To people like her fellow Auror, Harry Potter. Who, in truth, didn’t care for any of the fame or glory or anything else that came with being who he was, even now. But had grown used to the fact that it was part of his life, and always would be. So he used it to his advantage. It was a smart move, in Faye’s opinion. Use what was given to you. And while Potter might get sent on a lot of high profile cases, so did Faye. But Faye’s job was dark alleys, abandoned drug dens, and following cold trails that led nowhere. It was long hours, sweaty clothes, lots of coffee, and more paperwork than her desk could reasonably hold. It was nightmares and dead bodies and messages scrawled in blood. Leading, taunting… always taunting.
So the glam was welcome. Faye thought Fane might be proud of her even, for finally giving in to her indulgent side. For letting him spoil her a bit. Without a single protest, as promised. It made him happy, deliriously so, and that made Faye happy.
She grinned again at his comment, enjoying the feel of his hand at her hip. Again, she spoke low so that only he could hear. “If you’re good, just tell me which one you want, and they’re yours, hm? Providing they’re interested.” Which they both knew was highly likely. Fane was… well, Fane. And she wasn’t half bad herself. Though they weren’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that was fine. There were certainly plenty of options walking around.
“What should we do first? Find alcohol? Then pick a game? I’m shit for cards,” she grinned, “so that’ll be up to you. But anything else and I’ll give it a go.”
He was more than happy to let her take the time she wanted to admire the island, whether it was the beautiful vistas or the ornate and intricate attention to detail of the buildings here. They walked past a fountain, magic lights dancing and creating illusions behind the rushing water as it bounced across rock formations all trickling down into pools and streams that would run off into the crystal blue waters of the ocean. One they’d spent many an afternoon going swimming and lounging on the beach nearby. He’d promised that she would be relaxed from this trip, and she had in turn promised not to complain if he decided to lavish her with gifts and treats. She deserved it, she deserved so much and he wanted to give her everything he could and more. Anything that was his was hers and he wanted to see her just, well, be. Happy, free, indulgent in the things she wanted.
There was no talk of work here, no discussion of what they had left behind. To bring that up was just the allowance for entering a rabbit hole that didn’t need to be descended into. Not right now at least. So Fane was happy to leave that topic far, far by the wayside and plus there was plenty to provide distraction from those things.
“Why wouldn’t they be interested?” he chuffed softly giving her hip a little squeeze knowing that although she had glamoured them her scars were still sensitive to the touch and partly why he enjoyed stroking or occasionally being cautiously tactile with them and her. “Maybe we’ll see Damien tonight,” he commented idly leaning in to press a kiss to her head always inclined to press affections onto her whether they were touches or kisses he’d grown inclined to be overly tactile lately considering there was no reason to hide them unlike back at home. No danger here to do what he wanted.
“You’re shit at gambling period,” he murmured into her ear lightly bumping her affectionately. “Let’s get a drink, what are you in the mood for tonight babygirl?”
“Maybe you’re not to everyone’s taste, that’s all,” she teased. For the most part, though, Faye knew his question was valid. Most people he found himself having an interest in found it hard to turn away from him. Faye had watched it happen for the entire trip. And before. There was just something about him that drew people in. And Faye was content to watch it happen. She knew where they stood with each other. So she wasn’t jealous, or worried someone would steal him away. If anything, strangely enough, such things seemed to bring them closer.
She hummed as he stroked her hip, enjoying the feeling immensely. “Perhaps. You rather enjoyed him last time.” Fane’s old friend had only come around that one night, but what a night it had been. Faye had enjoyed him too, so they would simply see where the night led.
His touches were encouraged. She always wanted them, always needed to feel him against her or touching her in some way. But back home it was dangerous for them right now. They kept their personal life to themselves, unless they went out to the muggle city away from any potential wizarding eyes. Or far less of them at least. One day she would hold his hand in public, kiss him on the street for all to see. But only when she was certain it was safe. Until then, they would do what needed doing.
But right now they were here. And fun waited for them as they moved inside. Faye laughed. “I am not!” But she was. Her poker face was good, her job giving her that much. But anything else was just… almost sad. She bumped him back, trying to look offended but not managing it very well. “Something sweet with lots of alcohol in it. And then…” Faye looked around the room, though it was so large she was certain it had to go on for miles. “Sit a hand at cards? Or the roulette wheel?”
His thumb rubbed arcs into her hip through the tight material of the fabric, his touch feather-light and just deliberate enough to be just the other side of satisfactory. “You rather enjoyed him too if I recall, all tied up like you were” he reminded her with a slanted grin appearing on his lips. His fingers continued to linger, brushing and rubbing as they moved but always keeping her pressed in close proximity was always something he would enjoy from her. How could he not? She was a beautiful woman who deserved to be absolutely adored and appreciated as such.
A low chuckle sounded from him as she tried to dispute her miserable attempts at playing cards and he jostled her playfully as they entered into the casino that stretched on as far as the eye could see. All sorts of witches and wizards were around, all dressed to the nines and already the pair were catching a few eyes “how about a raspberry cosmopolitan? Unless you want a classic cocktail?” he suggested as he steered them over towards the bar ordering a manhattan for himself and whatever drink Faye decided on for the night leaning on the bar but staying in contact with Faye while the bartender mixed their drinks.
“Whatever you fancy,” he said looking around the room himself. They had every game from around the globe here for any such inclinations. “I’ll need to get some cash converted.”
“Willing to abandon a beautiful lady so soon?” a smooth caramel rich voice piped up from behind them and Fane turned his expression morphing into a grin as he found Damien dressed up in a slick deep red tux. “Tut tut, and there was me thinking that maybe you were a gentleman.”
“That sounds good.” She hadn’t had a Cosmo in a while. And Faye liked anything sweet, especially if it would give her a relaxed buzz if she drank enough of it. Her eyes scanned the interior of the casino, the sleek lines, the deep, bold colors, the lights… the beautiful people mingling and drinking and losing ridiculous amounts of money. It was like they were in a different world. And she supposed they were. A world all their own. A private playground to do with as they wished. That bent to their every whim.
Enjoying the quiet contact while she watched the bar elf mix their drinks, Faye contemplated what to do first. Fane was a good card player, and not afraid to bluff. They played sometimes, and he always beat her. But she supposed this was much bigger stakes than their wagers on where to eat dinner. She was just taking her drink from the elf, nodding her thanks, when a familiar voice followed Fane’s. Faye turned, handing Fane his own drink, and smiled at Damien’s strikingly clad figure. “He is a gentleman. Never leaves a lady hanging.” She eyed him up and down, leaning her shoulder against Fane’s and wondering how quickly his comfort zone was going to be breached now that the other wizard had shown up. “You’re looking dashing tonight,” she told Damien, grinning. . “Have you lost any money yet?”
While Fane took care of the drinks, charging them to the room tab he’d opened at the start of their vacation here he let Faye look around and take in the atmosphere. All around goblins and elves wandered, better treated here than in almost any other wizarding resort or establishment around the world and though it didn’t mean there wasn’t sometimes trouble for the most part the staff seemed content to work and serve their clientele. All around diamonds and magic glinted while glasses clinked, chips and cards were dealt and fates altered.
Cards were some of Fane’s favourite things to do when out, a balance of masterful acting and charm to con-- well, convince people to folding or bluffing them into a controllable position. Never play the cards, play the person. That was the aim of the game and though he’d tried to teach Faye it wasn’t so easy to teach that particular brand of skillset. No doubt she could manage it with time, but even so.
At the sound of a familiar voice he turned smiling cheerfully at his friend though setting eyes on him in that choice of suit resulted in a naturally interested brow and Fane was reminded by the discomfort that he struggled to conceal about the fact that his interested tonight was limited to Faye’s permission alone. Discretely shifting his weight to try and find some sort of comfortable position Fane handed over her drink “her on the other hand?” he offered for good measure “bloody conniving minx.”
Damien preened under the compliments Faye had to offer, “you cut quite the ravishing figure yourself love... “ though he looked quizzically over at Fane “and something’s made you mister grumpy pants tonight… Lighten up, have a drink or four.” Though he laughed at Faye’s question, “of course I have, who hasn’t? That’s part of the fun.”
Faye was content to stand at Fane’s side and be his good luck charm if he wanted. It would be interesting to see how he fared tonight, all things considered. Cards sometimes put him in a bit of a mood, depending on how the hands played. Though Faye had no doubt that he would win at least a few rounds. Faye like games of chance better. Roulette, Craps, Blackjack sometimes. And there were many more wizarding games that had much more interesting prizes besides cash or coin. They would come to that though.
For the time being, she had two handsome men all to herself. “You love me,” she whispered to Fane as she handed over his drink. She smiled at Damien around the rim of her glass. The drink was quite good, and Faye took a long sip before replying. “Thank you.” Though she saw Fane’s squirming, and since she was a merciful bloody conniving minx, she let him have a bit of breathing room, as it were. Not much, but a roll of her fingers expanded his confinement enough to take the edge off. For now. Damien was, after all, a friend. Later, perhaps, if the timing and the mood was right, Faye would let him in on her… secret. But the control was all hers. And would remain that way for tonight.
“You men and your money,” she said, shaking her head. But it was in good humor. When everyone had had a drink or two, chatting about the last couple of days, and what they were interested in for tonight, they moved away from the bar and mingled with the crowd.
Damien hung close to Fane’s left side, Faye on his right. The other man’s gaze took in the crowd at the high roller’s table, located on a raised dias near the center of this section of the casino. “See that man there,” he said to Fane, quietly from behind his raised glass. “The one with the gloves on?” He waited until Fane nodded before continuing. “Name’s Alexie Sokolov. Russian chap. Best card player on the island. Wears gloves because he thinks it’s unlucky to touch the cards with his hands.” Damien shook his head. “He comes once a year, spends millions, wins even more than that, then just… leaves. And no one hears from him again until the next time.” He glanced sideways at Fane. “No one’s ever beat him.”
Faye had heard the entirety of the conversation, and had already started to analyze what Damien was saying. Even though she tried not to, a bit of her Auror training came out. “Is it the same gloves every time?” she asked quietly. Meaning, did he cheat?
“Debatable,” he groused quietly in response to Faye’s light needling though of course they both knew she was right in her assumption. Granted, he was allowed a modicum of relief from the device she’d brought into play tonight and he almost, almost sighed as a little of the pressure eased off. Instead, taking a long pull of his own drink. He’d need it.
“Yes, our money buying you nice fancy things,” Fane commented leaning in to buss her cheek his arm slipping around her waist as they all settled into the mood of the night and crowds present. However, what happened next had Fane’s full attention and his brow cocked as he watched the confident grace with which their subject moved. Calculated perhaps, to instil a sense of unease in other players who no doubt knew who they were playing against. “Superstitious shmuck,” he remarked with a roll of his eyes.
“May be, but it’s worked so far for him,” this, earned a roll of Fane’s eyes and a huff in response as he eyed the man in gloves. He was nothing special to look at, not really. But what Damien said next had his eyes narrowing in a thoughtful fashion.
“Never been beaten?” well, if that wasn’t a proposition if he’d heard one. Faye asked her own question and it stoked him all the more to go over there himself. “Do you know the buy in.”
“Couple of thousands probably,” though Faye’s question was simply met with a slight look that was neither confirmation or denial to what she’d asked.
“Well…” Fane had a glint in his eyes, “why don’t we test his track record?”
Faye did know, so she only chuckled and kissed his shoulder. It turned to a hum of approval as he kissed her cheek a moment later. “The only pretty thing I need is you, love,” she said as they started to thread their way through the crowd.
She could feel the moment his attentions turned to the high rollers. His demeanor changed, but not so much as to draw attention from anyone watching. But Faye could tell, pressed so close as she was. And the moment the words left Damien’s mouth, that no one had ever beaten the Russian player, Faye knew Fane was hooked.
Because there was nothing Fane liked more than a challenge. And the gloved man and his unbroken streak - not to mention the millions of dollars ready to be won - was just that. “You’ve done it now,” Faye said sotto voice to Damien, who stood on the other side of Fane.
Damien only laughed and shrugged. “What can I say? Someone needs to beat the bastard, and who better? I lost money last year - a lot of money - betting against him. I need to win it back.”
“Ah, so you’re only using him for financial gain,” Faye teased. She glanced at Fane as he commented on the man’s use of gloves. “Maybe he is. I’d bet he’s a cheat though. No one’s that good. Well, except for you, love.” Her hip bumped Fane’s.
Damien named the buy in price. Faye knew that Fane wouldn’t have cared if it was ten times that. He was in. She only raised an eyebrow at Damien’s glance, ready as the other man was to see Fane leave the Russian in the proverbial dust.
“After you,” Damien said. He motioned that Faye and Fane should precede him towards the dias. They approached, Faye holding lightly to Fane’s arm and doing her best to look uninterested in the conversation as Fane spoke with the large, suited man taking buy ins. She sipped her drink, yawned a bit, and waved at someone in the crowd that didn’t exist. Though she listened intently to every word.
The buy in was exactly four thousand pounds. There were two spots left in the next game, once the current one was over. It was down to the Russian and two others. The man directed them to where the monetary exchange was made and Fane was handed a gold coin that saved his slot for the game.
“That looks fancy,” Faye said, glancing down at the little token.
There was no helping his intrigue, taking money from wealthy suspected criminals to line his own pockets for his own exploits? Not to mention doing it in such a fashion as a game of chance and skill like cards? How couldn’t he be enticed? Fane licked his lips eyeing the group with evident interest and a honed gaze, studying their movements with a thoughtful gaze.
“He uses me for more than that,” Fane off-handedly commented in response to Damien’s remarks “and if I win him his money back well,” his gaze finally left the table to look aside at him “I guess he’ll just owe me several times over won’t he?” Discussing the buy in was no major skin off his back, and once the fee was agreed and exchanged Fane spun the gold token between his index finger and thumb flicking it in lazy circles as he stood by watching the present game.
“All part of the game,” Fane explained picking up a canapé from a passing waitress and popping it into his mouth and chewing on it seeming rather non-plussed at the fact that the pot being dealt on the current table was about three hundred and fifty thousand total and climbing. It wouldn’t be the first or the last he’d have through the night, the casino’s extremely generous helpings of alcohol and food just enticing players to stay here even longer. “Now, I’m going to go and get some chips, I’ll be back in a little bit love” his fingers lingered on her elbow for a moment as he brushed affectionately by her though he knew she might have to give him a little more leeway during the course of his bout here in terms of easing off on the distraction she had control over. If he was going to win he needed to be able to focus.
“What do you think his chances are?” Damien asked watching Fane speaking with the cashier and exchanging a wad of notes for a stockpile of differently coloured chips keeping them to hand as he made his way back.
Damien could only raise his glass to Fane’s comment, turning back a healthy swallow as he grinned. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of… arrangement.” He watched his friend make fairly quick work of the buy in, standing by Faye as he walked off.
Faye watched too, and when Fane came back, she looked at the small token with interest. “Seems like the crowd is dwindling,” she commented on the group at the table as Fane snagged a bit of passing food. There was enough floating around that she would get some in a bit. Right now she was more interested in the card game, even though it was more in reading the players than the actual game itself. The amount of money was obscene, and Faye shook her head slightly. That was a decade’s salary for her. Probably more. But she didn’t comment. It would be nice to see someone else take home the money. Someone besides the man who was slowly driving away any and all competition.
It would come down to one or two players, Faye knew. Not losing was as much a matter of pride as it was chance and skill. Though the men - and one woman - left at the table all appeared to be sweating. The Russian barely looked invested. Faye watched him over the rim of her glass. Either his poker face was second to none, or something else was going on. She opted for the first, seeing as how the casino was charmed against any sort of magical cheating. Other magic, such as Faye’s glamours over her scars, were unaffected, being unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
Faye hummed in acknowledgement of Fane’s brush to her arm, watching him as he moved off to gather his chips for the game. She would certainly give him leeway for the game. Probably vanishing the distraction completely for the duration. She wanted to see him win as much as anyone. Damien included. Faye glanced aside at the other man as he spoke.
“I think if anyone can take him out, it’ll be Fane.” Her eyes fell back to where he made his way through the crowd again. “He hates to lose. At anything.”
“This is true,” Damien agreed. “All settled?” he asked Fane as he came back over.
The amount of money on the table was obscene, but hardly the most he’d ever observed in a game. He’d seen games where millions were the average on hand at a poker game. This, was barely anything in comparison to those. So he stood by, fingering the chips idly as the game progressed until it was the Russian with his almost indisputable poker face and one final player who looked just about ready to pass out from uncertainty. A testament to his foe’s nerves or something else entirely, Fane couldn’t quite say.
The game ended as all expected it to, with the Russian scooping the pot and then some while the other man departed. For a moment, Fane lingered studying his opponent with a schooled and thoughtful eye sussing out what might be his tell if any. It was an art in itself, and one Fane had grown rather apt at over the years. Finally, with the Russian stacking up his chips the dealer, a rather attractive young woman with dark features and a honey-sweet smile invited any other players to the table. No one seemed keen to be first, and so after pressing a lingering kiss to Faye’s cheek “wish me luck love,” Fane slid away.
Departing from Damien and Faye’s side he settled into a seat, adjusting himself slightly though a private conversation passed with looks between himself and Faye until he felt his earlier confinement ease off until he could settle comfortably. Setting his chips down in colour-coded order before slipping the silver disk across to the dealer whose name now that he could see her badge was Catarina.
Now that someone seemingly had the balls to take the offer of a match, more players gravitating around the table took their seats and set their chips out. And not very much time later the cards were being dealt and the game on. Fane’s features throughout were nigh unreadable, save for the easy confident posture he maintained. His hand was decent enough on the opening round, but nothing spectacular and though he made it to the last few stages of the river was called when the hands were revealed. The routine continued, Fane’s features analysing the board with laser-like accuracy and a couple more rounds going in the following order: loss, loss, small win, loss, slightly larger win and so on. Until it was only him and his opponent left, each having cleaned a lot of the other players at the table out. But Fane’s attention was on the stacks of credits still in front of the man who didn’t look all too pleased at having someone willing to challenge his games.
Where most might’ve been sweating under the losses, Fane took them in stride, barely reacting or acknowledging as the chips were dealt back and forth back and forth between them. Fane had won a couple of games against him, something that had drawn a sizeable crowd to watch the game and where most might’ve been satisfied by beating the supposed top player in the casino. Fane was insistent on one fact. That being taking everything this man was worth as his own. And so, the hands were dealt out again and the routine game continued.
Faye and Damien found a table to sit at around the periphery of the game. They chatted as they watched, Damien’s arm across the back of her chair, thumb brushing her skin lightly - explaining a bit of the deeper intricacies of the game to Faye. She understood on her own that Fane wasn’t going to blow the Russian out of the water right from the start. He lost more than once, with a decent win here and there. Weeding out the contenders who had lost enough money, and keeping the ones who thought they could at least beat Fane, if not the Russian. It was classic deception, though Faye saw the Russian watching Fane closely - in scattered glances over his hand of cards - as the throng of players thinned.
“Fane’s rattling him,” Faye said, leaning close to Damien so only he could hear her. “He’s looked up six times in the last few minutes. That’s more than the entirety of the last game combined.”
Damien grinned, turning his face closer to Faye’s. “Ten to one that once it’s down to the two of them, Fane puts all in. At some point. It’ll either be a damn good bluff, and the Russian counters, or he has a top hand.”
Faye glanced back at the table, eyes lingering briefly over the lovely woman dealing the game, before moving to Fane. “I have no idea,” she told Damien. “Whatever he does, when he wins, just be ready for it.” Her smile turned wicked as she gave him a nudge and a wink. More drinks were brought round, and Faye bought a pack of cigarettes from the floor girl. She lit one up, offering the pack to Damien just as the only other person at the table folded. Leaving Fane and the Russian.
Fane was coming to learn as the games progressed, the man he was targeting out of the crowd never lost so to speak. He folded when it suited but never let a game go unless it was to a point he could well and truly bluff. The games in which Fane won, the man folded, the ones he lost being the ones the Russian stuck out until cards were called. The chips were drawn in and exchanged more than once. The chips changing hands several times over until each player had amassed a decent total of winnings though none surpassing either Fane or the Russian.
One by one the crowd thinned, people realising either that they stood no chance to win here or that there was perhaps something more going on. Something that they likely didn’t wish to have a part in. Not to say there wasn’t a general crowd joining the table to watch the last two men standing. While Fane was well aware of his opponent’s glances, he didn’t seem to care either way though behind a neutral expression that gave away nothing his mind was working out strategies and deliberations on every single move and action that was taken. There was skill to this game after all, judging from a person’s decision to raise or call on how good their hand was and consequently decide whether they happened to be bluffing or not.
Fane was, of course, biding his time. Even now it was down to just the two of them, the cards were dealt the rounds passed and with fifty-grand in the pot Fane lost causing the crowd to hiss under their collective breath at the fact. The Russian seemed pleased with himself, scooping in the chips and stacking them up.
Of course you couldn’t land the biggest fish around without bait could you? And Fane was happy to stuff the hook full of the lures to get what he wanted in the end.
There was method to Fane’s madness, and where most might have been sweating buckets after losing the sum he had in the last match. He merely glanced at a waitress and ordered another drink in a quietly put request. The blinds were paid, and the game was once again under way. Fane occasionally taking a sip of his drink as he studied the cards on the deck, though in this round something was different about his choice of play style. Where before his choices were careful, calculated, this time he raised where he could pushing and pushing until on one of the Russian’s turns he was left to sit and wait on the other man’s choice of action. A sign that this had not been something he had anticipated, yet where the Russian might typically have folded now he merely stayed.
The pot was at a hundred thousand between the pair of them and Fane sat back into his seat, staring at his opponent while he waited for the next move to come. The river would seal his fate, that much he knew.
Back at their table, Faye gripped Damien’s arm as she watched Fane lose more money than she could make in a year. “Christ…” she muttered to herself. But she trusted that Fane knew what he was doing. He couldn’t wipe the floor with the man. Not if he wanted to win.
“He’ll be fine,” Damien said quietly. “But my arm won’t if you don’t loosen up.” He patted her hand and gave her a smile.
Faye loosened her grip. “Sorry. Just makes me nervous. Guess this is why I’m shit at poker.”
“Could be,” Damien said. “Though you’ve got other talents to make up for it.”
Faye merely glanced aside at him, seeing the smirk on his face. “I do,” was all she said before turning back to the game. It went on, push and pull, win and loss, until finally Fane sat back. Faye looked at the Russian. He’d fallen into a pattern over the course of the game. And Faye had picked it up somewhat. Now he was hesitating. She looked back at Fane. He looked almost bored. Though Faye knew that wasn’t the case. He was either bluffing, or he had something good. It was merely a matter of waiting on the other man to fold, or put his hand down and call Fane’s bluff.
The tension in the air was palpable. Even the dealer looked a bit tense as she watched the two men sit at a near standstill. The Russian watched Fane from under his thick brown. The cards moved slightly between his gloved fingers as she seemed to be deciding. Finally, after an age, he seemed to make up his mind. Perhaps it was arrogance. Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps it was underestimating his opponent. Whatever it was, the man laid down his hand.
“We have a four of a kind from Mr. Sokolov. Aces, across the board.” The dealer called out the hand that had been laid down, and there was a collective rumbling among the room. That was a damn good hand.
Faye craned her neck, feeling her cheeks flush as she watched the Russian. “There’s only two hands that beat that,” she said. “If Fane was bluffing…” She took a long pull off her drink as she waited - along with the rest of the room - for Fane to lay down his hand. “Come on, baby… come on, come on, come on…” she muttered.
The Russian simply waited, knowing that he’d called this other man out.
Fane had to pace himself, this was as much a game of patience as it was one of skill and Fane was well aware that he couldn’t simply rush in without a thought. You had to pick and choose your battles and Fane was conscious of every move being made. He was out of hearing distance of Damien and Faye not that he’d looked over at them much during the course of the rounds as they came and went.
He couldn’t afford distraction presently. Though he knew in his observations of his opponent that he was feeling rattled by Fane’s calm confidence and certainty behind his hand. The final round of betting came, and Fane paused looking at his chips, the Russian and the central deck of cards. You couldn’t give your hand away too early or risk spooking your fish to bolt before you could clean them out for everything they were worth. The fact the Russian was still at this point meant he either had a very good hand or was risking it on a bluff. Fingering a couple of chips, Fane knocked back the rest of his drink, set his glass aside and scooped his entire winnings into the middle. All seven million causing the crowd to mutter under their breath shocked by the boldness of the move.
“Mister Savin goes all in,” the young woman gave him a look and Fane half-expected her to think he was mad for doing such a thing against a man notorious for never losing.
Perhaps it was pride, or the egotistical nature that came from too many wins. Fane’s stack of chips was hardly comparable to the nineteen-million the Russian made his throne on. Perhaps it was the temptation to beat someone so thoroughly they never tried something so dumb again in their lives. Who knew the reason why, but Fane sat back and waited. Until the Russian called, and the pot was raised to the sum of their total value.
The hand set down was a very good one, rare to get a four pair on a single game and Fane could understand why people said the man had to cheat to get a hand like that. But the river was made up of an ace of spades and diamonds, followed by a four of hearts, and a jack and ten of spades. The tension in the room was palpable, eyes turning to see whether Fane was sweating but Fane’s expression remained neutral.
Until the moment he flipped his cards doing so in such a fashion that only the top card was visible a Queen of spades. He was sure that he saw several people crane forwards in anticipation of his absolute loss or victory. A smirk crept onto his lips followed by a flick of his wrist to slip the queen aside just enough to reveal a matching King sat beneath.
Stunned silence followed.
The look on the Russian’s face was certainly worth the wait, and Fane was sure he saw veins popping out of the man’s head not to mention his expression seemed a bit bug-eyed. The bystanders looked at the table in disbelief. The odds of it happening were so rare it was next to none.
“And... a royal flush from Mister Savin,” the dealer didn’t look like she quite believed she was saying it. “Twenty-six... million in winnings.”
Fane scooped it in, and rose from his chair looking over at the Russian who had barely moved an inch. “Better luck next time hm?” Fane looked at the dealer then, he wasn’t oblivious to the way Damien had been looking at her earlier “and thank you love, for a wonderful game.” Picking up five grand in chips he flipped them over to her. “And say, if you’d like to join us for drinks later… You would most definitely be welcome.”
“I--” she seemed a bit surprised to be acknowledged in all honesty, but a look between him and the couple approaching from behind him caused her to laugh a little and shake off her surprise. “Sure, this was my last game tonight anyway.”
“Positively wonderful,” Fane grinned scooping the chips into a tray so that he could get it changed into cash while Faye and Damien approached.
When Fane laid down his hand, Faye waited, holding her breath and Damien’s arm tightly. The other man didn’t seem to care. His hand gripped Faye’s thigh in anticipation. And when the dealer called out that Fane had won, Faye and Damien both yelled out loud. They clapped along with the rest of the crowd that had gathered.
“Wait-” Faye said, gripping Damien’s arm again, “did she say… 26 million?”
“I think she did,” Damien said, watching with a gleam in his eyes as Fane paid the dealer for her trouble. “I’d say that’s a fair payout.” He looked at Faye. “You know that’s chump change to a guy like him, right?” He was grinning a bit madly, the adrenaline of the last bit of the game flushing his cheeks beneath the dark complexion. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.” Damien tugged Faye down into the crowd and they made their way towards Fane.
“I knew you’d wallop him!” Faye said. She leaned up wrapped her arms around Fane’s neck, giving him a sound kiss before stepping back to allow Damien to do the same. Though sans kiss.
“That’s my boy,” he grinned at Fane. A quick look around and he spotted the dealer making her way through the crowds. He leaned in again. “So uh… she’s coming with us? I know you slipped an invite in there, right?”
“If you’re talking about the pretty dealer with the fuckable mouth, of course he invited her. Right baby?” Faye said quietly as they both followed Fane to cash in his earnings. A trio of bodyguards (guarding the money, not Fane) walked in front of and behind them.
Fane didn’t bother to wipe the smug smile off his lips once the hand was called out, gathering the chips into roughly even piles before loading them onto a tray of coloured groups for easy reckoning. The Russian was still staring at him, and most might’ve been unnerved but Fane merely grinned lazily. “You know, if you want to play some other time-- I’d absolutely love to.” He probably shouldn’t dig, but how could he not? A winning streak lost just like that and to a stranger no less.
When Faye and Damien approached Fane was just getting to his feet speaking to a couple of staff that had come to congratulate him on the win, also to inform him that as a high roller they were willing to loan him a million to keep playing during the week if he so wished. A tempting offer and Fane explained that he’d consider it later in the week, a couple of security were moving around just to keep an eye on the chips not that he was too worried.
“Well, you know me,” Fane laughed as his arms slipped naturally around her hugging her close and lifting her off the floor. He practically melted into her kiss, and it took everything in him not to turn her round and prop her on the card table. Something had him figuring the staff wouldn’t appreciate that too much so he settled on holding her tight for now. Eventually, he let her go but not before he gave Damien a hug.
The question about the dealer caused him to glance over his shoulder at the young witch behind them, turning back to Damien to adjust the other man’s tie. Straightening it just before patting his chest when he spoke again “well I saw how you were practically eye-fucking her earlier and you mentioned you lost to the man so call me giving you the opportunity for a drink with her… Compensation hm?”
They made their way across the floor the cashier, Fane carrying the chips on the tray and sliding them under the caged barrier behind which a house-elf dressed smartly in a tux started changing and depositing it into Fane’s account directly rather than giving cash. Once it was all said and done, Fane turned back to the group (now four) grinning lazily. “Well, I say celebratory drinks hm? Ah-- but first introductions, this charming fellow is Damien Girard, the beauty beside me Faye Delacroix and you can call me Fane love” he finished dipping to kiss Catarina’s hand.
“Charmed, name’s Catarina but everyone calls me Cat,” the young woman explained to the group. Though her eyes lingered on Damien just a fraction longer than the rest.
“Careful with that one,” Damien warned with a cheeky little smile.
“Oh don’t worry love, I can handle myself.”
“I like her,” Faye said to Fane, though it was meant to be heard by everyone. “Nice to meet you, Cat.” Faye and Cat shook hands, and once the matter of Fane’s winnings was settled they moved off towards the drinks that Fane had mentioned. Cat and Damien walked a bit ahead of Faye and Fane, chatting quietly. Faye leaned over, her arm wrapped around Fane’s as they moved through the crowd. “I make my own bet with you that Damien and our new friend become very well acquainted before the evenings done.” It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious. Cat was already eyeing Damien like he was good enough to eat. She’d looked at Fane the same way, and Faye as well. But it was Damien that had drawn her attention first.
Faye grinned. “Speaking of bets…” A subtle flick of her fingers and the distraction she’d relieved him of earlier returned, though not as tight as before. “I can’t let you have too much leeway now that you made yourself a household around here. You might get a big head.” Her tone was teasing and playful, and she kissed his arm as they followed the other two towards another section of the casino. They passed through an archway, and unlike the brightly lit room of the gambling hall, this bit of the casino ascended up spiraling walkway. The lighting became softer, turning to deep purples and reds and blues. The air was cooler here too.
Faye looked around. She liked the semi-darkness of the walkway. Gave opportunity for a bit of playfulness. Though she kept her hands to herself for now.
“Best drinks in the casino are up here,” Cat said to all of them. “On the house for a VIP like yourself.” She turned a grinned slyly at Fane. “Though be careful with the blue ones. They’re strong.” A small wink in their direction and she turned back to Damien, taking the distraction of darkness to slip her arm through his. Faye could hear Damien’s deep murmur as he leaned over to talk to the other woman.
“Have you ever been up here before?” Faye asked Fane as the path seemed to level out and open up into a large, cavernous space filled with people. The music was less dance music and more a sort of hypnotic background beat. Not unpleasant, just different. They followed Cat to the bar, the colors of the room settling Faye into a more relaxed, almost lazy mood. Not the high-wire adrenaline she’d felt down below. Was it the music? Was it charmed to do such a thing? A glance over at Damien and Cat revealed that the man already had his hand on her waist as they ordered drinks.
It wouldn’t take them long.
Faye turned back to Fane. “Wanna get a blue one?” she grinned. “See if she’s fulla shit?”
With introductions sorted, Fane fell in beside Faye watching as Cat and Damien walked a little distance ahead. “That’s not even a bet worth making, of course they will,” Fane said as he watched the other couple ahead of them. “Only reason he probably roped me into that game is to get him a shot at talking to her, Fane tipped his head slipping his arm around her waist and drawing her close “because he would’ve looked like a fool in front of her if he lost a lot of cash.” Fane had feeling it wasn’t just that, but Fane had seen Damien making eyes at the card-dealer a couple of times in the week when they had been in here. “Plus, I’m an amazing wing-man,” he flashed her a cheshire cat smile; slow and lazy as they walked along.
Fane’s steps faltered as their earlier arrangement was settled into place once more and he had to try and discretely adjust the front of his trousers with his free hand. Not that there truly was any subtle method to do that. “Not the only big thing about me,” Fane couldn’t help the joke, his tone light and full of humour as they left the brightness of the casino and instead replaced it for darker corridors and more electro-beat music. He glanced up at Cat when she spoke, “oh I’m a VIP now, goodness, I do like special treatment,” Fane was, of course, for the most part joking on this topic. He didn’t really give a damn mostly because he always did his own thing anyway, regardless of whether it was the done thing or no.
At Faye’s question Fane let his eyes drift around the cavern “to be fair-- I’m pretty sure most of the time I was on this island I was high off my rocker… So, I don’t think I could tell even if I had been here.” Fane was hardly shy about his dabbling, Faye knew well enough about the unhealthier habits he partook in and while they had been here had shared in plenty of those together. But it was the truth, in all honesty, most of Fane’s last visit was a blur of things he could hardly remember and something he wasn’t sure he did wish to remember anyhow. Stepping into the softer lights, Fane stroked Faye’s hip interested in the feel of the material under his fingers humming contently as they arrived at the bar. “Mm,” he sounded giving a slow dip of his head in answer, “are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me love?” He was teasing of course, “but how could I deny such a tempting proposition? Go on,” Fane looked to the bartender “two of the blue drink thingymajigs, whatever they are.” Leaning his hip on the counter, he looked at her “I want to dance with you after this… I love dancing with you baby.”
“This is true,” Faye grinned. She stroked a hand over the front of his trousers, feeling the smooth ridges of the metal cage surrounding his cock. “Yet you take it so well.” Building him up throughout the night was her goal, and though she had released him for the game earlier - and it had turned out very, very well - their arrangement was back on. The very thought of what she was doing to him, and where it might lead later in the evening, especially considering their new friend, made her belly burn with a low desire. But she wouldn’t rush. They had all night.
Cat just grinned over her shoulder at Fane before turning back to Damien. The entire island was a VIP resort, so having additional privileges could be fun. And Cat had been working here long enough to know some of the secrets that others might not. Though she also wasn’t naive enough to think that someone like Fane - who barely blinked an eye at the millions he’d just won - didn’t already know all of them.
Faye moved up to the bar, leaning against it as Fane’s fingers drifted over her hip. “Mmm. You know… I can see the appeal of some things. The way they just… make you forget your troubles.” Faye certainly wasn’t one to fuel the fire of Fane’s addictions, so to speak, but the things they’d experimented with while on the island had made her feel… amazing. She’d yet to smoke opium with him, but they had time yet. It was safe here at least.
“Maybe,” she said. “You do become a bit of a slut when you’re drunk.” Faye turned towards the bar and watched the woman move to mix up their order. Whatever the liquid was, it was a bright, neon blue. It smoked as it was poured up. But her attentions turned back to Fane, and she pulled him close by a beltloop. “Consider my dance card full then.”
Faye knew well enough exactly what she was doing, and in all honesty Fane didn’t mind a bit. He was happy to settle into playing his part but frankly he didn’t mind one bit about whether he was considered important or not. But the perks, well, Fane did always have a knack for sniffing those out and weaselling his way into places he might not ought to have been. Call it a talent. One that pissed people off just as much as it happened to impress them. Fane rather impressed himself with it too.
“Then can anyone ever blame me for running off to places like this?” Fane asked, though it was more rhetorical because Fane had very much been running when he had been here. Running from things and a life he’d wanted to forget for longer than a while. Unfortunately, memories were a pesky sort of thing that couldn’t just be removed entirely with the use of a drug but it was a decent enough temporary reprieve to give him peace of mind enough to sleep. “That one you had the other day was fun,” Fane said, referencing the serum he’d given her before Damien and he had taken it upon themselves to take her apart between them while she was lax and utterly willing. “Or maybe I’ll use something that makes you utterly desperate.” He’d gotten an utterly pure stash of bits and pieces back at the villa and they’d been toying around with them during their stay. Had Faye wanted to try smoking with him he would’ve let her but it hadn’t come up as of yet.
“Only for you,” Fane leaned down and nipped at her neck “only for you love.” The drinks were served up but Fane was promptly distracted by her when she tugged him in just so. “Not the only thing that’ll be full tonight I think,” his brows waggled in a playful fashion and his voice dripped with amusement as he made his comment. He never could pass up such an opportunity.
“I’m starting to see the appeal,” Faye agreed. Fane knew her near obsessive work ethic better than most. Once she had something in her teeth, it was near impossible to get her to let go of it, even for a little while. And considering the case that was in limbo back home - awaiting the tedious processing of the wands they had come across - it was a testament to their relationship that Fane had agreed to leave. But she had promised. And they’d already lost so much time. So many years wasted for one reason or another. Fane didn’t have to stick with her through all the Ministry bullshit. It wasn’t his job. But he had. He’d been right there through everything. Even as the case had slowly taken over their lives. Such as they were. And Faye recognized that. Which is why she had kept her end of the bargain and fully indulged in this long holiday that they both deserved.
“It was fun,” she agreed. “Maybe I’ll try it on you? See what it does.” Her hands stroked over his side beneath his jacket. He was warm as always, and it was pleasant in the coolness of the bar. Her pulse quickened a bit a the prospect of the opposite. “Does me begging for it make you hard?” Her hand drifted lower, stroking him lightly. “Maybe you should keep this on while I do? Have you begging me in return?”
The drinks arrived, smoking lightly, and she laughed as his breath tickled her neck. “Mmm, and you are good at it too.” Her grin turned devilish, and she pulled him even closer. “Promise?”
“Does that mean I’m corrupting my good little auror, hm?” there was a sing-song lilt to his voice when he said this and his expression was entirely mischievous. If he was honest he was lothe for the day to come where they would have to leave this place, much preferring the idea of staying right here with her and absolutely none of the responsibility they would otherwise have to return to. He couldn’t be blamed for it, it certainly wasn’t Fane’s job and in all honesty with how the Ministry treated him he couldn’t have been blamed for telling them to go and screw themselves (which he had, several times) much to their chagrin. But he stayed, and he stayed for one singular reason, and that was the witch presently at his side. If there was one person he would never leave (not again), it was Faye.
“Tease, would you?” Fane asked in a quiet exhale of air at the thought of her using the drug on him. The stroke of her hand was leaving him feeling just a little overheated but he didn’t let it show instead settling to enjoy the warmth of her beside him. “You don’t need to ask that to know the answer,” of course he knew she was asking because she already knew the answer, the brush of her hand caused him to look over at her. “Granted it doesn’t take much to get my interest let’s be honest-- like you said I’m a slut. Quite proud of that fact really.” It was hardly a secret either, he’d spent too long in indulging in things that physically felt good to distract from the lingering darkness in the recesses of his mind. Some might even go so far as to say he’d become hooked on such physical pleasure to avoid the pain he might otherwise be forced to confront.
“I know, I’ve had a long time to refine my craft.” They were practically flush the booze and smell of her perfume and something that was just so distinctly her overriding his senses as she drew him in and it was all he could do not to-- his mind was in the gutter as his slight wince of discomfort proved. “Well, you’re in charge of that...” Fane remarked licking his lips as he picked up his drink and took a sip, hit with the flavour of something refreshing almost blueberry in flavour. In all honesty this was both a great and horrendous method of torture, the pain of denial only serving to heighten the desire to have what was quite literally forbidden.
“It means… that I’m starting to see the appeal.” There was a hint of teasing in her voice as she repeated herself, because she would (most likely) never admit that he was corrupting her just a little bit. Even though Faye preferred to think of it as ‘broadening her horizons.’ She wasn’t nearly as tight-laced as a lot of her coworkers thought she was. She would do things off the book. Make deals to get what she wanted. Such as with the wands. Sometimes you had to look the other way. Especially if no one was getting hurt. Except the people that deserved it. But like Fane, the prospect of returning to all of that weighed heavily on Faye whenever it crossed her mind. As it was doing more often as the month slowly drew to a close. The sheer amount of things that would need tending when they got back to London was mentally overwhelming. Though all her minor cases had been streamlined to other agents once she’d taken over as Head Auror on the one they were working. It had taken priority. And Faye knew that Fane’s loyalty was only to her. That he didn’t two shits about the Ministry or anyone there. He stayed for her. To help her. And she would never be able to thank him enough, or express how much it meant. When they got back, things would change. There would be work and real life and obligations. Danger and the unknown. People that wanted to hurt them.
Which was why she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the here and now.
“I would if you wanted,” she said. “Having you at my mercy and willing to do anything I said without question…” Her lip found it’s way between her teeth. “It’s makes me wet just thinking about it.” Her teeth flashed white as she grinned at his answer. “You’re the only person in this world I’d ever get on my knees for. Or beg for anything.” Faye was fairly certain that he knew that. She was proud, and pride was her sin if anything was. But for him she would kneel. She would crawl. She would do anything he asked, if only to please him and make him happy. “And I’m proud of you too. Not everyone embraces their inner hedonist quite like you do, love.”
Faye reached for her own drink, a devious smirk on her face. “I am in charge of that aren’t I?” They were standing close, so she let her hip brush against him instead of her hand. Her drink tasted like blueberries as well, but with something a bit like… grape perhaps… mixed in. It was very good. She took another longer sip and turned back to Fane. Behind them, Damien and Cat were bent close together in conversation, but Faye couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“What’s your take on the dealer?” Faye asked Fane around another sip of her drink. “You think she’s down for… fun later?”
“Would it make you happy? Doing that, having that power?” Fane asked in a low voice his eyes widening just a fraction as he spoke his lips hovering by her ear and lightly bumping her temple where he’d leaned in close. She couldn’t see it, but the smile was evident in his voice. “And you’re the one calling me a slut, it’s so easy to get you worked up” Fane nipped at the shell of her ear his breath warm before he drew back. “And you’re the only one in the world that I’d ever let have this much control over me.” It seemed they were each their respective achilles heel, but for Faye he really couldn’t bring himself to care less about the harm she might bring to him if it meant being blessed with a fraction of her time.
Because to her he was worthy. Even if he wasn’t sure he would ever feel like he truly was.
Fane took another sip to mask his inclination to groaning at the pressure, he knew full well what she was doing and it was working. Faye turned and Fane glanced over his shoulder to follow her gaze, his heart was still thumping steadily in time to the lazy sway of the beat that was almost hypnotic. “My take on her? I think our good friend is infatuated,” Fane said in reference to Damien “he’s been making puppy eyes at her all night.” The topic of fun however, that had Fane turning, propping himself casually on the bar. “Love, if there’s one thing anyone on this island is down for… It’s fun. And her? Oh, she’ll certainly be down for it.”
“Just being with you makes me happy,” she said in return, a smile in her own voice. “But would it give me pleasure? To have that power over you? Yes, but only if you gave it to me freely.” In any other situation, Faye would have said no, that she didn’t want to have any sort of power over Fane. They were equals when it came to their personal lives. Each of them giving and taking as the situation required. Neither being jealous or feeling subordinated by the other. It was an equal partnership, and while some may have found it strange, for them it worked. That didn’t mean that they were always on the same page with everything. They argued fiercely sometimes. And didn’t always agree on the outcome. But it got handled. And they got over it. Moved on. Life was too bloody short.
She laughed, low and warm, as he whispered in her ear. The nip sent a rush of goosebumps over her skin, and she leaned against him. “I never deny it,” she said. It was no secret that he could work her into a panting frenzy with just his voice and a few choice words. It was also no secret that of all the people in the world, not one of them would dare try to control Fane Savin. No one that knew him at least. There were some that had tried. There were some that wanted to try (like Roger back home), but no one had the courage to look the man in the eye and call him out. Except for Faye. And perhaps Maya. But they weren’t just anyone.
“Ditto,” she said. Because they were each other weaknesses. Their one and only. Faye had spent her whole adult life working to avenge the death of the boy she’d loved since she was a child. While that same boy had stayed away, missing out on years and years, just to keep her safe. It was a tragic irony really. But they were together now, and Faye wasn’t going to take any of it for granted.
He was her forever. And for some reason, she was his. He loved her above all others, even after so long apart. And she would hold onto that for as long as forever might be. No matter who or what tried to get in their way.
“Damien? Infatuated?” Faye snorted. “Never.” She turned as well, leaning into his side as he posted against the bar. “You make puppy eyes at me,” Faye teased him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Let the man dote on her.” Faye hummed as Fane confirmed what she herself was thinking. That an employee of the casino would know where the best fun was to be had. As if they had heard Fane and Faye talking, Damien turned to find them and waved a hand, gesturing that they should follow. Cat was pulling him towards another section of the room.
“Looks like she might’ve already found something.” Faye tossed back the rest of her drink, already feeling muzzy-headed. She took Fane’s hand, though when her skin touched his it flared brightly, sending waves of color along his palm. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Faye blinked. “Did you see that?” Still pulling him along, walking backwards as she stared at their joined hands where color pulsed and faded and ran together with their pulses. “Am I hallucinating?” she grinned. If she was, it was the drink that done it.
There was a soft thump coming from where Cat and Damien had disappeared. A hallway that faded from the deep blue lights of the bar to deep purples and reds. Stone walls glittered, reflecting the lighting back on the guests. Faye saw ripples of color as she drug her fingers over the roughness of the rock. “Do you see that…” she murmured to herself.
Up ahead, Cat turned with a knowing grin, her arm looped through Damien’s. “Your friends tried the blue drink. I think it’s working,” she grinned up at him.
Damien, who was utterly taken with the witch, smiled back. “Then this should be fun, shouldn’t it? If anyone can down a hallucinogen and make the best of it, that man can.” He glanced back at Fane where he trailed along at Faye’s side. “They never disappoint. Promise.”
Cat grinned and they moved on through into the club. Bodies writhed in a huge central dance floor, long and rectangular and lowered two or three steps down into the stone to keep the masses contained. A large section to the right was the bar. Flooded with purple and blue orbs of light that kept changing shades as people came and went, the wall behind was filled with rows upon rows of bottles that reached up into the dark recesses of the ceiling. Chandeliers, brightly lit with multicolored forever burning candles, threw shadows onto the stone. Their flickering flames contrasted with the bright colors, but it somehow worked. Wax dripped down here and there, pooling on purposefully placed diases. Some held candles that were slowly rising towards the ceiling as wax constantly dripped. Others held bodies. Men and women that caught the wax on their skin, decorating themselves and watching others do the same.
Faye found herself unable to look away from the way the wax catchers hissed and arched away from the sting as the hot liquid fell onto their skin.
“You can try it, if you like,” Cat said as Faye and Fane caught up with them. “That’s what this place is. A showroom. Of sorts. There, see?” She pointed across the way. There were evenly spaced booths - large, dark, softly-lit spaces with a small stage and comfortable surrounding seats - each featuring a different ‘act.’ One held a woman telling fortunes. Another held a man performing intricate card tricks with a sentient deck of cards that kept snapping at his fingers. And yet another held a pair of contortionists bending their bodies around one another at impossible angles. Booths upon booths of entertainment, all of which Faye couldn’t stop staring at.
“If you want something a bit more exciting, we’ll have to go upstairs,” Cat said. “This is all a bit G-rated for me.” She tipped an eyebrow, and Damien looked at Faye and Fane a bit helpessly as Cat pulled him along up the stairs. “I didn’t come here for card tricks and fortune tellers.”
Faye blinked owlishly, watching them go and leave a trail of soft negative images behind. “I’m…” A grin twisted her face, and she turned her dark eyes on Fane. “...not interested in G-rated. Are you baby?” But she was already pulling him behind Damien and Cat. Up the stairs, down another hallway and through a curtained doorway.
The first thing Faye saw was the body of a woman displayed like an artpiece. Softly backlit, she was tied in intricate Shibari, eyes covered in black silk, with only one foot touching the ground. She was very much alive, as Faye could see her breathing softly as they approached. A man stood nearby in a black suit, watching the passersby carefully. He was also checking in with the woman periodically, to make sure she was still okay. But only when no one was admiring her.
They moved on down the way, stopping to admire a man that was being slowly encased in wax by a lovely woman with bright blue hair and a ring in her nose. The man was clearly aroused, but the woman was ignoring him, concentrating on the patterns of color the hot liquid was leaving on his skin.
“That looks like fun,” Faye said in a slightly dazed voice.
They moved on, admiring each centerpiece of living erotic art as they passed. When they had made their rounds and were deciding what to do next, a waitress came over and presented Fane with a small silver tray upon which lay a small white card, folded in half.
“From the gentleman in Booth 37. I believe he wants to meet you.” She tipped her head at Fane after he took the card, and then disappeared.
Faye frowned at Fane, looking at the mysterious letter. “Who would’ve sent that?” she asked, looking around as she stepped closer to him. Auror instincts flared to life without a second thought. Her wand was on her thigh, a familiar weight within easy reach should she need it. She knew Fane would sense her sudden tension, the subtle tightening of the hand around his waist, even if there were no other outward signs of it.
“He totally is, and if anyone knows what puppy eyes looks like it’s me considering I a hundred percent make them at you,” Fane’s grin was devillish as he wrapped her up in his arms hauling her close enough that he could bury his face against the curve of her neck. He pressed a few kisses to her skin, soft and utterly doting and affectionate. “Oh he wants to do more than that.” Fane had his eyes closed when she took his hand, though when she called his attention to something his eyes opened lazy and hooded from the drink they had both knocked back.
She was pulling him off then, but he blinked a couple of times a slow grin spreading across his features at the colour that radiated beneath their skin. “Maybe so…” his eyes moved from her hands up over her neck the lights serving to heighten the beating pulse and Fane found himself wetting his lips in anticipation as he was dragged further into the private lounge. While Faye explored the drink’s effects, Fane only had eyes for her, at least, he did up until the moment Damien’s commented and Fane could only grin. “Mm, if there’s one thing you’ll have with us love… It’s a bloody good time.”
The space beyond was unlike anything he’d ever seen, even since the last time he was here. Apparently they had done some expanding and renovating not to mention the general revamp this entire place had undergone. Fane’s gaze slowly dragged across the crowd and he felt his pulse thrum in response to the music the urge to drag Faye out under those lights and pull her flush… To feel her as purely as he could get her, loose and limber and entirely his to ravish. His fingers itched to drag her off, biting his lip in anticipation of everything that awaited them here. So many possibilities but before he could even say anything Faye was dragging him up the stairs and he felt his throat and something else tighten. Though this just earned a low grunt of discomfort as he made his way up the stairs a little more stiff than he might normally would have been.The things that lay beyond didn’t serve to help either, and Fane was already getting the idea of the things he could do to-- no, he shouldn’t think on those things. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to endure this enforced chastity considering the amount of times he’d had to deal with the fact he very much wasn’t able to let his body run the normal course in terms of what it very much wanted to show its appreciation to all this display.
“Maybe I could tie you up like that,” he said as they walked on around the display that is until a staff member approached and Fane stared at them for a very long moment, eyes unfocused but nevertheless plucked the paper up regardless. Unfurling it he scanned the contents humming thoughtfully, “apparently I’m owed a drink of congratulations.” There was a symbol on the paper though, one Fane recognised but he folded it up and tucked it into his pocket. “I think I’m just going to see who this is… You three keep browsing, you can tell me if there’s something you’d like to try later then hm?” Fane doubted it would work, but it was worth a try regardless he supposed.
The display was certainly unlike anything Faye had ever seen. Cat and Damien walked a bit ahead of them, whispering close together, much as she and Fane were doing. Faye let them be, her attentions solely on the man with his arm around her waist. She marveled at how well he handled what she was putting him through. As she always did when she pushed his limits. Though tonight was hardly the most torturous thing she’d ever done to him. Far from it. But it would be worth his patience in the end, Faye would make sure of it.
Faye grinned at the thought of him going over her body with such intricate knotwork. She had just leaned up to say something salacious when a woman approached with a letter for Fane. Faye blinked at him, much as he had the letter-bearer, and then again as he tucked away the missive before she could get a decent look at it. Faye looked at Fane, the lights moving under his skin fading ever so slightly as she pushed against the effects of the drink. For a moment, the most subtle of looks passed between them. One that told him to be careful, and that she didn’t like him going off alone to meet some stranger, even if it was safe here. And even if he could take care of himself just fine. But the glassiness returned to her eyes soon enough, and Faye blinked again, giving his waist a squeeze. “Alright.” One more hooded glance and she made her way over to Cat and Damien.
Faye whispered something to Damien, and he looked back at Fane over shoulder, slipping an arm around her waist and giving the other man a subtle tilt of his head. It was less than ten seconds worth of silent conversation before Damien was turning his attentions back to Faye and Cat, and they moved on around the display.
She didn’t ever need to tell him to be careful, he hadn’t survived this long without a certain degree of precaution and necessary measures. Careful calculations of the risks and benefits of entering into certain situations. The message was a surprise but Fane also hardly figured he would leave tonight without talking to his opponent in some degree or another. A polite request in a letter was a rather nice formality in all honesty and part of why Fane was curious to speak with the Russian.
Contacts and connections never hurt to build even on holiday getaways. Fane knew also the questioning look Damien sent him but a small shake of his head, colours flaring over his vision as he did so, told the man it wasn’t something to worry over.
“Take care of my babygirl, hm? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he called after them grinning lazily as they walked on. Only when they turned the corner did he turn glancing at a booth number before he sauntered to the one in question. Number thirty-seven. A looming body guard stood on a silent vigil outside though Fane was let through after flashing the card. Stepping into the silenced interior to see his opposition from earlier in the night sipping on teal coloured beverage. Fane said nothing but did move to take the seat opposite pulling out a smoke and popping it between his lips, a wave of his fingers lit the end and he inhaled lazily.
“Surprised to hear from you so soon, looking for me to take more of your money hm?” Fane grinned roguishly knowing it was a ballsy statement given how much he had walked off with earlier in the night.
The man sitting in the booth merely smiled back at Fane around the large cigar he was smoking. He set it aside after a moment, exhaling as he watched Fane take the seat across the table. “The list of people who have bested me - at anything - is very short, Mr. Savin. Why wouldn’t I want to meet you?” The way he looked at Fane would have unnerved most men. A calculating, curious look, that was both neutral and yet… so very much not.
“And I’m never looking to have my money leave my possession. But…” He shrugged, as if it were something mundane and innocuous that had been lost, and not millions of dollars. “It happens from time to time.” He picked up the cigar and took another long puff. “So how are you enjoying the island this time? I see you brought a guest. She’s very beautiful.” He tapped the ashes into the tray. “Though some would say bringing an Auror to a place like this is in bad taste.”
There was no threat in the man’s words. Not really. But the conversation within a conversation said, ‘I know who you are. I know who she is. And I’m not the only one.’
Fane’s posture was, by virtue of his position, indolent to say the least; legs splayed lazily and the cigarette hanging from his fingers occasionally being raised to his mouth for a shallow drag before being pulled away and lightly ashed over the tray in the middle of the room. The scent of the cigar was strong, but Fane had spent a lifetime around the stuff to barely even let it faze him anymore. This was just as much a poker match as earlier even if the chips weren’t visibly on the table to count. So being studied, Fane remained nonchalant as ever and waited the Russian out. “Very short hm? So like you then?” it could have been interpreted rudely with how Fane grinned almost sharkishly as smoke in lines from his nostrils directing it away from the man opposite. “Now, while I am rather impressive company, I do suspect there’s more reason to you wishing to see me than simple congratulations being in order.”
The question about the island and his enjoyment of it caused Fane to reach for his drink and take a sip fingers tapping against the glass thoughtfully as he set it down. Was it worthwhile speaking to this man? Though he also seemed to already know who they were. So it was hardly anything new Fane supposed. “I’ve always enjoyed my retreats here-- a place you can do almost anything you want? Why wouldn’t anyone want to come to such a place?”
His direct mention of Faye’s occupation caused Fane to tilt his head, it was his turn to analyse the man sat opposite him. Fane knew a threat when he heard it, but this, as far as he could tell was general curiosity over why she was here. Whether there was an ulterior motivation at work here. “Well I can assure you, I have rather impeccable taste and… I must say she’s no average run of the mill auror. Though that’s a title she left behind when we decided to come here for a while.”
Contrary to Fane’s posture, the Russian sat easily reclined, but legs crossed ankle over knee. Body turned at an angle to Fane’s, one hand holding the cigar, the other gesturing as he spoke. “Very much like me,” the man grinned at Fane’s comment. “Though with that logic, one would assume your own list is a bit longer than most.” The same sort of tone carried the words through the smoke-filled air. But his demeanor changed a bit as Fane got to the point.
“Even now you see through me. I quite like that. Not many - another short list - would speak to me so openly. Which is why I find myself wanting to give you something else tonight.”
He laughed. “Why indeed? A paradise with no consequences. A place where anything you want is possible. Where everything is completely safe. Unlike the outside world.” The comment could have been innocuous, made to mean the world in general, but something in the man’s tone said it wasn’t. That it was far more specific to Fane himself.
Sokolov laughed again, though it was a different laugh. One that said he didn’t quite believe Fane’s claims about his auror companion. “A title, perhaps. But an Auror is always an Auror. No matter how… above-average they may be. The same can be said for many other… titles.” Savin could take that however he liked. Though not being one to play the long game once he’d made up his mind about something, the man leaned forwards. “My point being, Mr. Savin, is that - among other things - I’ve heard a rumor.” He glanced around, as if the booth wasn’t already sound-proofed and spell proof. “A rumor that you’re the new Dark Lord.”
“I never said it was logical, though I probably have a longer list of people who have tried to beat me and found out the hard way that isn’t something that very often happens.” Fane shrugged ever so slightly at the comment about him cutting through the crap, “You’ve seen the beautiful woman that is waiting on my return and I am admittedly very loathe to keep her doing so for too long. I’d rather speak plainly than in riddles.”
Fane’s expression remained neutral, though his eyes lingered on the Russian curious about what he might have to offer. “Part of the reason so many of us retreat here, who wants a reality that’s terrible when you could live in a place where every indulgence is catered for?” Unfortunately, Fane knew that was no option. Faye was too dedicated to her work to truly leave it especially in such a place with so many untethered ends.
“You’d be surprised,” Fane commented with a grin “she really isn’t like any other Auror you’ll have the opportunity to miss, I mean-- what other Auror you know would be in a place like this and not be wound up in trying to shut it down and arrest every person involved hm?” It said a lot about Faye, who she was and what she was willing to do with him and no one else. Fane did run his tongue along his teeth though when the Russian mentioned his rumour, and an icy chill shuddered down his spine “and rumour has it you’re a cheater and a thief,” Fane waved his hand idly “doesn’t mean there’s any truth to it… Do I really look like the sort interested in world domination?”
“Not much surprises me, these days, Mr. Savin, but I’ll take your word for it, hm?” He tapped his cigar again. “And you obviously trust her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Though there was a hint of something else in the words. Still not a question, but more… as if the Russian wizard were trying to make Fane ask a question in return.
A low laugh trickled from the man’s throat as Fane countered him. “Yes. I’ve heard that. It’s the gloves, I know. But if you must know, I wear them to keep myself safe from any… charms or other nonsense some of these players try to slip onto the cards. Not so I can cheat. Though as you know, the cards are protected, just like the rest of the island. All very safe. But I’d prefer not to take chances. And of course, just because I also happen to be a very good judge of other people, and a very good card player, I must be cheating. No one could ever be that skilled at something.”
Sokolov watched the reaction - or mostly lack thereof - that rolled through the other man at the mention of the rumor attached to his own name. “Appearances mean nothing, Mr. Savin. But perspective. Perspective means everything. To me you look like a man that wants to forget the world at large. And the pain its caused you. You have no interest in ruling over anyone. You simply want to be left alone with the few things you still hold dear.” Another small pause, in which Sokolov stared at Fane very intently. “You and I are very similar, Mr Savin. We’ve both been accused - more than once - of being something other than what we are. Simply because of who we are.”
He fell quiet after that, leaning back and puffing his cigar. Waiting to see if there were any other questions to come. Though he felt certain there were. A man like Fane Savin wasn’t going to leave after a few shadowy remarks. He would need more than that. How much more remained to be seen. Though even Sokolov’s well of information had a bottom, loathe as he would be to admit.
If Sokolov was expecting another question from Fane in regards to what he wanted and why he was interested he would be sorely disappointed. Faye wasn’t their present topic of discussion and thus wouldn’t be mentioned unless necessary. Fane was fighting against the effects of the drug which while they were softening everything was something he fought against to try and keep a sharpness that was surprising by most standards. But then this was hardly surprising, Fane had endured far worse over the years than a few hallucinogenic drinks.
“You know I did debate asking you to take them off earlier, just for the shits and giggles of watching everyone else’s faces when you lost” cocky perhaps but it was all in good humour. Fane knew that going into that confrontation at the poker table you had to have a large degree of self-belief to sell the sort of bluffs they were. “Guess we’re both used to people making assumptions about us then,” and it was all Fane had to say on the topic because he knew as well as the man sat opposite him that this place was charmed against fraudsters.
“The question there is whose perspective then,” Fane drilled his fingers lightly against the tabletop passing over Sokolov’s assumptions about what he understood from looking at him. He was right of course, Fane had spent almost the entirety of his adult life running so the real world wouldn’t catch up. Had Faye not found him he very well would have continued along that train of thought and lifestyle until he ended up in some unassuming grave somewhere. Alcohol poisoning or something just as unassuming he supposed. “And because of our interests, considering magic isn’t inherently bad in my opinion… The intent of its user however? Well, I would argue that’s the true evil in this world” Fane fell silent as he took another inhale of smoke, filling his lungs and exhaling it in a small cloud the trails intermingling with the thick scent of tobacco from the cigar in his companion’s mouth.
“So first things first, this is related to the investigation back in London? It’s related to me? Or… these people that think I’m some new-dawn messiah?” Fane was far from an idiot, and it hardly seemed a far stretch to link the pieces considering who had been targeted. Old order members? People who had fought and defended some of the few pieces of goodness in the world? No Death Eaters. Which meant it was some sort of unhinged group of fanatics. “Question is, what do you know about them and more importantly, how?”
“The perspective of someone very dangerous. I don’t have a name, or I would give it to you.” Whether Savin believed him or not was up to the man himself. All Sokolov could do was impart the information. He nodded as Savin added to what the Russian had already said. “As much I agree with you, that it’s not the magic, but the intent, that makes something dark or evil, there are many others who don’t share my opinion. Others who would use those… interests… against you in any way they could.” A small warning, perhaps, to be careful in his pursuits. Sokolov wasn’t privy to the things Fane got up to in his spare time, or the less than popular practices he experimented with. He simply knew that when someone already looked at you like you were a bad person, any little pieces could add fuel to the fire.
“Yes. To everything.” It was all connected. Or so it seemed from what Sokolov had heard. “Your return to London… from the dead, as it were. The continued murders of the Order of the Phoenix. The Morsmordre in the sky over London? The death of that boy, and your role in it, indirect though it may have been. Your partner being the lead investigator on the case already. Who just happens to make you a consultant? A man accused of being a Death Eater since he was a child. A very infamous name, your family’s. Puts you very close to everything. All the inside information you could ever need.”
A cloud of acrid smoke rose into the air as Sokolov exhaled. “I have my sources that keep me abreast of any information that might be useful. I’ve told you all I know. Except…” He leaned forwards again, his eyes focused intently on Fane’s. “They know everything they need to know to hurt you, Mr. Savin. Everything. And everyone.”
“Do you have anything that links to them? Or some way I can try to get more information?” Fane had his own back channels but even then without some sort of name or point of reference it would be hard to truly pinpoint anything in particular. Though the mention of interests… Fane narrowed his eyes a little, the first real reaction garnered since the start of this conversation. Nothing was specifically mentioned, but it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be insinuated and Fane sat back, rubbing his mouth as he fought back a sigh. Of course. A lifetime of being accused of something only to have to return when he’d finally started trying to make a case for his own innocence.
How many more times could he be expected to fight this same battle? Could anyone truly judge him for being bone fucking weary of it? Of a mantle he’d carried since he was eleven and thought he was going mad when he’d nearly broken the sorting hat or heard whispers in his head. Voices that no one else could hear? Voices about cleansing and purifying the school so only those worthy could attend?
Years of a place that was a world away from what he’d experienced at Durmstrang but years that had slowly chipped away the pure innocence of a naive young boy who thought he might stand a chance of proving himself as something other than what his family legacy coloured him to be? Was it any real wonder then why he’d all but faked his death when the opportunity arose? To let the world thing him gone so that if only for a little while he might live a normal life. Anonymous and walk amongst people simply as another one of them.
But that would never be the case. His whole life would be spent running it seemed. The thought caused his heart to sink, and suddenly he didn’t want to stay. Because hearing it laid out in front of him… Fane closed his eyes for a long moment, but the emotions that were clouding him were categorised and put down. “So where should I start? I can’t very well hunt down people who I barely have any leads on can I?” And how could he protect those he cared about if he didn’t know who or what was coming for them? “I’m not running this time…” Fane seemed slightly more resigned but no less determined “but I need something to work from if I’m going to get ahead of this…” Fane’s eyes lifted to Sokolov’s then, steady and intense the drug all but worn off through sheer force of will “is there anything else you can think of that might be able to help me?”
Sokolov set his cigar aside and leaned forwards, steepling his fingers. “All I have is my source. I haven’t sought any information on my own. I only know what I’ve been told. However…” A flick of his hand and a small card appeared, very much like the one Fane had received earlier. “I can give you this.” It was a set of initials and an address. “Memorize it. The card will burn itself once you read it. Give them my name, and they’ll speak with you. Once. So don’t waste it.”
The Russian wizard watched the younger man with what might have been sympathy. He knew Savin’s history, knew his family name and what had happened during the Second War. He’d lost people in those dark years. Perhaps that was also why he was offering what help he could. To prevent another descent into madness. Into the shadow of a maniacal would-be ruler. Not that he believed Savin was that person. But there were people who did. And there was darkness in the younger man. The Death Eaters had seen it years ago. Tried to exploit it. His own family had tried to lull him to the dark. But he’d been stronger than all that. Stronger than the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort.
And that very fact - little known though it was - seemed to be the catalyst. The keystone - that partnered with his chance arrival back from the dead - that had sent Savin’s name spiraling out into the ether. A name that had been snatched and twisted and turned towards a purpose the man himself had no interest in.
“In my experience, the enemy you should fear most is always closer than you think. And it’s not always a person. Seek out the name on the card. If you ask the right questions, they’ll have the answers. Though it may cost you.” He knew what he was saying sounded misleading. But it was really all he knew. If he had had specifics, perhaps he would have given them, but as it was, he didn’t. “The only other thing I can tell you is to trust what you know. Never doubt it. No matter what the truth may seem to be.” It was nothing if not cryptically foreBut shadowing. Sokolov sat back then, taking up his cigar. “I wish you luck, Mr. Savin. You and yours. And I sincerely hope this is not the last time we speak.”
Fane took the proffered card, but didn’t look at it immediately as Sokolov explained what would happen once he did. Instead, he pocketed it for when he wasn’t fuelled up on a drug infused haze. “Do you think you could look into it for me? Or at least put a few feelers out in your network?” Fane knew that Sokolov owed him nothing, but for this Fane was willing to owe a favour himself regardless of how dangerous that was in their line of work.
There was an innate strength him that few had, but it didn’t make it any easier for him to withstand a lifetime of things whispered behind his back. Of looks and accusations to things he’d never been nor would ever be. There was darkness in him, perhaps more than the average person but darkness he tried to wrestle on a daily basis and more often than not managed to overcome. Demons could hardly darken his world when he had people like Faye around to help shine a light to chase that darkness away. Would Fane go mad? Perhaps, perhaps not. He would hardly be the first in his position or family to lose a few screws along the way if that was the way things went.
The warning, cryptic as it was caused Fane to look at the older man long and hard for a moment. He’d spent his life on the run, being accused of so many falsities it seemed that this was all setting up for yet another one to come and Fane wasn’t sure he would be able to do this many times more than he had already. “Right…” Fane said in answer to the given warning, but it seemed there was nothing more to be said of aid and he sighed ashing his cigarette and knocking back the last of his drink. “I suppose that’s yet to be seen…” Fane rose from his perch and a part of him debated leaving, but custom and formality considering the fact this man owed him nothing caused Fane to reach out a hand to shake before adding. “Thank you…”
And with that, Fane left feeling more dazed than he knew what to do with.
Sokolov considered Fane’s question for a moment. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find. But only because I like you, Mr. Savin.” A twist of his mouth showed a row of very white teeth. “You remind me very much of myself when I was a young man, if you can believe it.” The owing of a favor went unsaid. It was what it was among those who moved in certain circles. Nothing needed to be said aloud.
He watched Savin consider his last words, and when the younger wizard extended his hand, Sokolov shook it firmly and nodded. “You’re welcome. Best of luck.”
****
Outside, Faye had set her drink aside, not caring to be without her wits anymore tonight. The colors still played over her vision wherever she looked, but the displays and all their erotic beauty did nothing for her. Her mind was elsewhere. Back with Fane. Something didn’t feel right. Though she knew it could have been overthinking on her part. Though Damien seemed as if he was trying just a bit too hard to keep her attention, whereas before he’d been fully focused on Cat. Again, that might simply have been her thoughts running away with her.
Either way, she was entirely distracted from anything other than waiting for Fane to show back up. When he did, his familiar silhouette moving through the deep purples and blues of the room’s lighting, she watched him closely, but didn’t say anything just yet.
“There you are,” Damien called, still with the same jovial tone he’d had all night. “I was thinking you’d forgotten about us. With all your new-found fame.” Cat merely watched the exchange with quiet curiosity, her arm looped through Damien’s.
With the meeting finished, Fane cut through the crowds of people quietly. His eyes not half so dazed as they were when he had departed, but considering what he’d learned it was hardly surprising. He spotted Damien first and then Cat, and Faye not a short distance from them. The sight of them immediately sent a wash of relief through him, not that this was evident but his expression immediately grew brighter as he approached and took a moment to give Damien a hug. “How could I ever forget you all? The most gorgeous people in this place.”
“Straight up we are,” Damien cheersed and took a sip of his drink glancing back at Cat with a playful little smile. “See, told you he’s a fun one.”
“Never doubted you to lie about anything like that doll,” Cat purred as she leaned in and lightly nipped at Damien’s ear causing the man himself to grin brightly.
Fane moved straight over to Faye then where she was sat and naturally sat down beside her, his arm slid around her waist and he pulled her in close. Dipping his head he caught her mouth in a lazy and utterly languid kiss, a silent way of saying thank you for waiting. A promise that he would make it up to her.
Faye did her best to smile along with the others as Fane returned. But as much as the expression passed across her face, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not that anyone would notice. Fane slipped his arm around her, and she leaned into him, kissing him back just as slowly. Her hand raised to touch his face, and she looked him in the eye when they broke apart.
“I’m not feeling so well,” she told him quietly. “I think I’d like to go back to the room.” It was the first time she’d asked anything of the sort for the entire trip. Faye had been perfectly content to spend their nights trying any and everything that they could. Whatever felt good. Whatever tasted good. Whatever she hadn’t tried before. But right now… right now she just didn’t feel like it.
Fane’s return had eased Damien as well, and he turned to converse quietly with Cat. The two laughed at a private joke, and Damien turned to his friend. “So what’s on the agenda now that you’ve rejoined us?” he asked. “Should we sample something new? Or try one of these for ourselves?” He gestured around at the art gallery.
It was certainly uncommon to say the least for Faye to ask for anything of the sort, and so as she spoke in a soft sotto tone his head tilted. Quizzical and a little unsure what might be the matter. He knew his departure had been a little bit of a surprise but it hadn’t been anything he thought would worry her all that much. Fane’s thumb gently brushed over her chin and then her cheek as he studied her, but a small dip of his head was enough for her to know he’d heard what she’d asked.
Even if he’d been rather looking forward to sharing the evening with the others.
But they had a couple nights more he supposed. They could make up for it another night perhaps.
When Damien inquired about what their plans tonight were Fane’s smile was slightly smaller, seemingly more tired. “I’m feeling a little tired after everything tonight, bit overwhelmed with everything that’s happened… So, I think I’m going to call it an early one tonight...” Damien’s smile faltered a little replaced with a small frown of concern that Fane waved off. “Raincheck, we’ll make up for it I promise you can have some fun with me in any one of these you fancy… Have some fun with your lovely darling I think she deserves your undivided attention.”
Cat glanced between them at the exchange but she smiled, lightly placing a hand on Damien’s chest, “maybe we can try a few out, find out which ones are the best?”
Faye gave a minute shake of her head to Fane’s questioning look, saying that it wasn’t worth discussing here. Fane understood, as she was certain he would, and made his apologies to the others. Faye felt a bit bad for ruining the night, and started to tell him that she could go back to the room and he could stay if he wished. But she didn’t say anything just then. She truly didn’t feel all that well now that she thought about it. Fane’s mysterious meeting had only made the feeling more apparent. But for the time being she blamed it on the drink. Cat had said that not many people could handle it. Perhaps that’s all it was.
Either way, Faye wasn’t sure she could fully enjoy the rest of the night with the swirling feeling in her belly and chest. She caught the look that crossed Damien’s face, but pretended not to notice. Cat seemed to notice too - her observational skills coming in very handy it seemed - and made quick work of distracting her date with more pleasant ideas.
“Well… since you twisted my arm…” he said, the grin returning to his face. Though he gave Fane one more look that said he wasn’t far if Fane or Faye needed anything.
Faye bid the couple goodnight as well, embracing them both before she and Fane headed home.
Once there, she moved off to the bathroom, taking off the gown and taking the time to hang it up before pulling her hair down and wetting a rag with cold water to press over her face. “I’m sorry,” she said out into the bedroom. “If you wanna go back… I’m fine, really.” She wasn’t, but she had to give him the option anyway. Not that he would take it.
Fane would never leave her alone, especially not after what he’d been discussing with Sokolov but neither would he complain about it. So when Damien gave him a look Fane understood fully Fane smiled and brushed Faye’s back before the pair of them started to wander back to the villa. Fane was quiet on the journey, and while he hadn’t been planning on coming back his main concern was Faye.
Explaining why when they stepped into the villa and Faye headed for the bathroom Fane looked over at her, a frown of concern for her apparent on his features. He took a moment to pull off his jacket and hang it up, prior to moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, though grimaced a little in discomfort at the pressure between his legs but he pushed the thought away. Focussing instead on her. “Bull,” he said plainly to her insistence that she was fine “don’t lie to me love. What’s wrong?” He couldn’t stand to sit there, and so a moment later was stood and loosening off his belt.
“Actually-- first-- Can you get this thing off me?” Fane asked regarding the cage he was still wearing because there was no real point in wearing it if there wasn’t to be any sort of reward for the effort he’d gone all day with. Not that he minded, though his frustrations had been notching through the day and some relief would be more than welcome. It also would mean he could focus entirely on her. Once it was gone he sighed, leaving his belt unhooked he leaned on the door “so… are you okay?”
Faye felt slightly guilty about putting him through so much torture all evening and then it not coming to anything. No pun intended. The look on her face as she freed him said that well enough. But it couldn’t be helped for the moment. At least he wasn’t the type - usually - to have petty grievances. Especially when there was a larger issue at hand.
She leaned her hip against the counter, watching him after she’d relieved him of his confinement. She was stood in her underwear and nothing but. Her hair was over her shoulders, covering her chest, and her arms were crossed beneath. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I feel… ill. I think it was the drink.” Faye searched his face, looking for any sign that something had happened while he was away from their group. There was nothing but his usual look of concern for her.
“What did that man want? Really?” Because that was where the unsettling feeling had started. And if it could all be played up to having too much of a hallucinogen, which may or may not have made her slightly paranoid as a side-effect, then so be it. But she needed to hear it from Fane.
Fane said nothing as Faye spelled the device away, there was no need to make a scene or cause a fuss. It was hardly a massive inconvenience in his life and certainly something that was manageable. It would hardly be the first time he’d endured something of the sort so her concerns and offers to make it up were waved off without any thought for himself.
He didn’t bother to conceal how his eyes moved over her in the mirror, undressed as she was Fane would always admire her unabashedly. Why shouldn’t he? She was the love of his life and the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Not to mention she was stunning, but his frown remained and the expression pinched his forehead in a few thin lines along with his eyes as he stepped up behind her. “You feel sick?” he asked moving to wrap his arms around her until his own settled over her hands crossed over her stomach.
Her question was hardly unsurprising or unanticipated. You could take the person out of the role, but not the role out of the person it seemed. “To talk, about our reputations mostly, apparently he doesn’t use the gloves to cheat he uses them to stop jinxes and spells that might be on the cards affecting him-- go figure.” Fane knew he was leaving out details, but if she truly wasn’t feeling well then Fane didn’t want to flatten her with heavy information. It could wait until she was feeling better and they did only have a few days left. A few days wouldn’t hurt.
Faye’s expression softened just a bit as he looked her over. His gaze, directed at her in such a manner, was like a warm blanket; a comfort when she was feeling out of sorts. She didn’t hide from him, as always. And when he came over, wrapping her up, she leaned back into him. “A little,” she said. “I think that drink didn’t settle too well with me is all.”
It was to Faye’s credit that until tonight she hadn’t let anything affect their holiday. Not work, not the outside world, not her occupation. She was here to be with Fane, because they deserved it. Because Fane deserved it. For all the sacrifices he’d made for her. For her job. For the case that was waiting for them when they returned. But tonight she had to speak, feeling unsettled enough to do so. Fane’s answer settled her some, however. He wouldn’t lie to her, she knew. “Huh. I would’ve figured him a cheat,” Faye huffed, leaning her head back on Fane’s shoulder. “But I can admit when I’m wrong.” A small smile moved over her face, and she looked at their reflection in the mirror. Fane’s taller form nearly engulfing her shorter one. His dark features contrasting her lighter ones. They were quite handsome together, she thought. Though she was a bit biased about the man she planned to spend her life with.
Fane would never look on her with anything other than pure and undivided adoration, she deserved nothing less than that in its entirety. So having her wrapped up in his arms, her back pressed to his chest left him feeling secure that at least for now everything was good with the world. His mouth pressed to her head, an open mouth kiss, once, twice, three times before it lingered there. “Then why don’t we get a bath and have an early night?” his hand left where it was wrapped around her midriff to trail up and cup one of her breasts in his palm. Nothing enticing just savouring being able to touch and cradle her close like this.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” he mumbled in her ear smiling as he nuzzled against her affectionately. He met her gaze in the mirror and smiled though it was half hidden by her hair. “I love you, so much.”
Faye’s eyes closed finally as he kissed her head. Fane was always affectionate no matter where they were (other than the places they’d agreed not to be, like the Ministry or in public while working). Faye hated having to impose limits. She hated telling him no. Hated not being able to give him everything and anything he wanted. For that was all she wanted in this world: Fane’s happiness. Her own was irrelevent. Because when he was happy, so was she. He deserved everything. Deserved to stop running, stop looking over his shoulder, stop worrying about who was whispering behind his back.
“That sounds perfect.” She hummed her approval of his caress, threading the fingers of her other hand with the one that remained on her belly. He was warm, and the weight of him against her settled the sick feeling that had risen up earlier. It was mostly gone now, and she laughed a bit as he nuzzled her ear. “They can be,” she said. Her laugh sobered a bit as he spoke again, and she watched him intently in their reflection. “I love you, too. More than anything.”
Fane had been deprived of so much in his lifetime, sometimes it felt like he had to do his best to make up for it. So moments like these, shared with Faye where he could show her his appreciation for everything she was and everything she did were seized without hesitation. He couldn’t ever let one pass him by, and he didn’t want to. Faye deserved everything he could give to her and it was one of the many reasons he was often so frustrated in having to adhere to her rules. Because he wanted to hold her hand in public, wanted to kiss her without the worry of who might be worrying and judging.
Because for as wonderful as things were, as much as he managed their lives back in London that concern was an ever-present constant. Coming to this island had only made him all the more aware of how happy he was to simply be able to live a life with her where there were no worries other than their respective happiness. To appreciate her as fully as he wanted. This was the life he wanted when they went home, wanted normalcy, wanted to settle down, maybe have a family one who - who knows? But how could they ever have that sort of life when they could barely even allow themselves to hold hands in public because of how it might be interpreted. What he wanted and where things seemed to be stuck at seemed like such a world apart Fane was partly resigning himself to the fact that maybe those things were just meant to be dreams.
Faye cared too much for her job to need to be worrying about anything other than that right now, he would make do. He always would. Taking her hand and pulling her over to the large bathtub he started filling it with hot water. After a long soak they both dried off and fell into bed Fane’s arms lazily wrapped around her and cradling her close as they chatted idly and listened to the quietness of the island. Fane lay awake, pondering what might await them and everything he was going to have to do.
The truth was, Faye thought about leaving her job all the time. She’d made it her life for nearly twenty years. Since she was barely out of school. Since she’d thought Fane had died. She had done all of it, become who she was, for him. Because the pain she’d felt when she’d lost him had been nearly too much to bear.
She’d done it all for him, and now… now he was here, warm and real and just as in love with her as she was with him. She’d started along this path because she’d thought he was dead. So now that he was very much alive, now that they wanted to build a life together, why not let it end? Let it end, and let the new chapter of their lives begin? Faye was certain that’s what she wanted. She saw the toll it took on Fane. How he held back because she asked him too. Because it wasn’t safe. Faye wanted more than anything to announce to the world that she was his. That she was his and he was hers. And dare anyone to say otherwise. But they couldn’t. Not yet. Not until this case was done. Not until the danger it posed to them was gone. Because that was Faye’s main concern. That someone would come after them. Come after Fane. Did she want anyone else to get hurt? Did she want anyone else to die? No, of course not. But in the end, if came down to them or Fane? Faye would let the world burn to keep him safe.
Fane wasn’t sure in all honesty how much longer he could keep doing this, but also knew that no matter what that would hold out for as long as it to Faye to say the words herself and not just because he wanted her to. Despite the toll her job took she enjoyed the good she did and impact on the world her work had no matter how small it might be. But what was it all for if she gave her all only to sacrifice her own life, their life together for it? This trip was just an indicator of how much he wanted this, and Fane knew going back to the secrets and deceptions would be harder with the taste of could have been.
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