A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle [1/5]
Title: A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle
Authors: villanelle_koi, cup_ramen_chaos
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: Probably R, for the moment.
Summary: The worst part wasn't that they were stranded twenty years in the past. Nor was it the fact that he was stuck with Zexion, of all people. No, for Demyx, the worst part was getting turned into a woman.
Disclaimer: Do you really think the original creators would have put these characters through this kind of torture?
Notes: Forgive me. I humbly turn myself in for whatever punishment you may devise for me. I deserve it. I have only this to say in my defense - Ryune and I craved genderswitch. We desired our glorious crack. And we apparently have brains on LSD. ....And dear lord but this was fun. That said, enjoy!
A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle
Chapitre Un
"What are we doing here?" Demyx asked, glancing around at the trees just a touch nervously.
"Don't you at least try to pay attention to instructions, Nine?" Zexion sighed in tones of exasperation. "We're here because Vexen's instruments picked up an abnormal reading coming from the Beast's Castle. Hence the Superior sent us to investigate, considering we're the pair most apt for spying and subtlety." Here he glanced over Demyx scornfully. "Though I don't understand how you could possibly have any aptitude for such an endeavor."
Demyx stared at him for a few moments. "Okay," he said slowly, "I'm going to ignore the insult there. I already knew that, Zexion. My point is, where the hell are we?"
"A forest, obviously," Zexion said curtly, ignoring Demyx’s dour grumblings about him being short, snobby, stuck-up and otherwise a jerk. Of course it was a forest, they were surrounded by trees and could hear wolves howling in distance. What else would it be?
"So which way is the castle?" asked Demyx, rubbing his nose and shrugging off his hood. Zexion made a vague gesture towards the north, and the two set out to find the Castle.
They were stopped by a woman in a white dress that seemed to shimmer and sparkle. She was nearly reeking of power, Zexion noted with his sensitive nose. Not the type he would want to anger unnecessarily.
Zexion glanced to Demyx, hoping he wouldn't do anything rash, then back to the woman. "Excuse me," he said politely, "but -"
"What is your errand here?" she cut him off.
Zexion paused; Demyx jumped in instead. "We heard there was some sort of . . . . um, disturbance here and wanted to check it out," he said carefully. "Can you tell us -"
"You are not native to this land," the woman said over his question.
Demyx scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um -"
"What brings offworlders to such a place as this?" she continued.
"Off . . . . worlders?" Demyx said weakly, apparently giving up his attempts at this point.
"Do not presume me a fool." Her eyes hardened, just a bit. "Your garments are not those of the native people, and you still have traces of the time-warping spell you interrupted on you."
Both Nobodies paused.
Tentatively, Zexion said "Time . . . ."
". . . . Warping?" Demyx finished weakly.
The woman pursed her lips. "Yes, time-warping. Are you deaf?"
"By 'time-warping'," Zexion said warily, "what, precisely, do you mean?"
She sighed, obviously irritated. "I mean that you were foolish enough to blunder into a pocket of warped time. You are lucky to have only ended up twenty years in the past. It could have been far worse."
"Twenty years?" Demyx demanded. "But that -"
The woman's hard eyes snapped to him. "You should be grateful it was no worse, you petulant child. Hold your tongue."
Demyx opened his mouth again, but at a warning glance from Zexion he thought better of it. The slate-haired Nobody turned to the woman. "And who might you be, madam? You seem to know quite a lot about this, and how we arrived in these circumstances."
The woman drew herself up proudly with the hint of a smile. "I am the Enchantress of this land," she replied. "Some call me the Lady d'Hiver; you may refer to me by that name, if you wish."
"Ah, I see," Zexion responded cordially. "Well then, Lady d'Hiver, perhaps you might return us to our proper home and time, then? We merely wished to investigate the source of the disturbance, and meant you no harm . . . ."
Her lips curved into a smirk. "Perhaps," she replied coolly.
Demyx let out a small sound of frustration. "Honestly. Women," he grumbled to Zexion. "I mean, can't they ever just be straight with you instead of all this -"
"Demyx," Zexion warned.
"Look, Zex, she's been an utterly demanding bitch to us the whole time!" Demyx continued. "I mean, is she PMSing or something? Did we catch her on her period?"
"Demyx," Zexion said in a menacing tone.
"Zexion -"
"I see you understand little of women, if you believe something so foolish," the Enchantress said, and now her smile was gone and her demeanor far more forbidding. "Very well then. Perhaps I shall . . . . enlighten you." She pointed at him dramatically, an otherworldly glow sparking in her eyes as she declared, "This oath I lay upon thee: that neither shall you be returned to your true form, nor shall you and your companion return to your rightful home, until the day comes when you know what it truly is to be a woman. So shall it be henceforth, from this day till then." And with that, she turned and strode off into the forbidding darkness of the forest.
"Wait," Zexion called, running after her, but she seemed to have vanished.
With a sigh, he turned back to Demyx. "Well, that was a complete and utter disas-" Then he stopped, and stared.
Demyx was looking down at himself with an expression of shock. Slowly, he lifted a hand and grasped one of the breasts now adorning his chest (and threatening to burst open his zipper), almost as if making sure it was real. "I . . . . I . . . . huh?"
Although Zexion was generally one to hold his tongue until he had something to say, very rarely was he at a loss for words.
This qualified as one of those times.
Finally, after an eternity of stunned silence, punctuated every now and then by a horrified squeak as Demyx tried to internalize what had occurred, Zexion finally managed to blurt, "She turned you into a woman."
"YES, she turned me into a woman!" Demyx roared angrily, pointing to his - well, her - chest. "I have boobs, Zexion! Boobs! How am I supposed to explain this at the next meeting, huh?"
"I would imagine you have additional female anatomy as well," Zexion mumbled, trying just as hard as Demyx to process the fact that Number Nine was now, indeed, a woman.
Finally, Demyx couldn’t take it anymore. She stomped behind a tree, obscured from Zexion’s view. The Schemer couldn’t see what was happening, but the tell-tale sound of a zipper indicated that Demyx was inspecting herself. The indignant scream (a rather girly one, although that was understandable) was proof enough.
Demyx whipped back around the tree, holding her coat closed with one hand, the other shoved down the front of her pants. "It’s GONE, Zexion! It’s fucking GONE!"
"Well, I would imagine that your penis would be gone, Nine, seeing as you are now a woman." Zexion cleared his throat, fighting a blush. "Could you please zip your coat back up so we can figure out how to extract ourselves from this mess?"
Demyx zipped her coat up and wailed mournfully, "This is seriously the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, it’s bad enough that I had to lose my heart, now I go and lose my dick, too?" Her shoulders slumped. "This is so unfair."
"Yes. Ah. Well," Zexion said uncomfortably. "We should probably attempt to find some sort of village or whatnot . . . . as I suspect that we'll be here for quite a while."
"Yeah. Great. Just great," Demyx muttered. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Lead on, o great one, lead on."
--
"So, you've been seekin' a place to settle down, eh?" The bartender watched the pair of them warily.
Zexion smiled politely. "Yes. Myself and my -" quickly he considered the possible explanations he could give, and selected the least conspicuous one, "- my wife are attempting to find a new life for ourselves. This village seems an ideal place to settle down . . . ." There was a muffled sound of protest from Demyx at the word "wife", but nothing else.
"Oh, aye, I s'pose. And the pair o' you struck out all on your own, then?"
Zexion nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Might you know of a good place to stay, until we have our own home?"
"Oh? It's lodgings you need?" another voice broke in.
Zexion turned, his smile growing warmer. "Yes, for the moment at least."
The man who'd spoken up smiled in return. "I'm Maurice. There's another small cottage on my property, if you're interested. 'Tisn't much, but . . . ."
"Thank you, that will do quite nicely," Zexion replied, smiling gratefully. "And in return, you'd like . . . . ?"
"Ah, no more than you can afford," Maurice assured him blithely. "And perhaps company once in a while, or help in an experiment or two when I've need of it."
"Experiment?" Zexion asked.
"Oh, yes. I'm an inventor," Maurice said with a grin. "Not much of one, but it's a living."
Zexion's smile grew wider. "I believe I might be of some use to you after all, then," he said quietly. "I've studied many theories and sciences, in the days of my youth."
"Oh-ho? And where were those days spent, to have such a fine education, lad?"
"Nowhere in particular." Zexion shrugged. "That's in the past now, in any case. So, we have a bargain?"
"Indeed we do, sir," Maurice replied, extending a hand to shake. "Can I dare to ask your name?"
Zexion allowed himself a small laugh. "Of course," he replied shaking Maurice's hand warmly. "I'm Zexion, Zexion Prideaux. This is my wife, Demyx."
"Zexion and Demyx? Unusual names," Maurice remarked.
"I really can't thank you enough . . . ." Zexion began, hoping to distract the man from that particular train of thought.
The older man waved this concern away. "Think nothing of it, lad. If it eases your mind, think of it as a gift to the newlyweds." And here he winked.
Here Zexion paused, before deciding to go with this. "You could tell?"
"Oh, yes. Young lovers, you know." Maurice leaned back in his chair. "So, then, that's settled."
This exchange seemed to embolden the others in the tavern, and soon questions were flying at the newcomers from all directions. Zexion answered these to the best of his abilities; Demyx, in the meantime, simply sat and stared at her chest mournfully.
--
"I can't believe I have to be married to you," Demyx grumbled later that night, after they'd gotten to their new home. "And that we have to share a bed."
"That is what married couples do, Demyx," Zexion sighed. "And there's only one bed. Believe me when I say it's as onerous for me as it is for you."
"Yeah, sure, I'll just bet -"
Whatever Demyx was betting on would have to wait for another time, as there was a knock on the door.
Zexion went to the door. "Ah, Maurice?"
The inventor smiled, holding out a basket. "Here, some extra clothes for you and your wife; I notice hers don't quite fit, and neither of you will be comfortable in those for long."
Zexion took the basket carefully. "Thank you . . . . much appreciated."
"Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves to get adjusted, then," Maurice said, smiling. "Good night!"
"Good night, Maurice," Zexion replied, closing the door gently.
"Who was that?" Demyx asked from their bedroom.
"Maurice. He brought some new clothes for us," Zexion called back.
Demyx took the basket from Zexion and rifled through the contents. She finally pulled out a wine-colored frock and a white shirt, frowning at the slip of paper with her name written on it that was pinned to the offending garments. "Dresses."
"Of course," Zexion said smoothly. "This is France, and you are a woman. The villagers would be scandalized if they saw you wearing men’s clothing."
"They’d be scandalized if they knew I was really -"
Zexion clapped a hand over Demyx’s mouth. "I know that, and you know that. If we are to survive here, unnoticed as outsiders and unnoticed as nobodies, we must make every effort to blend in. You announcing that when anyone could potentially be listening is foolish."
Demyx grumbled petulantly and turned toward the bedroom.
"Ah, one moment." Zexion called to her retreating back. He tossed her another article of clothing. "Maurice seems to think you should wear this as well."
"A scarf?"
"Your hairstyle is considered odd, even for a male member of the Organization. Imagine how much odder it will be considered here."
She pouted, then retorted, "Well, what about you? Your ‘do isn’t any less conspicuous."
Zexion closed his eyes, fighting back the tiniest flutter of frustration. "I will attempt to do something with my hair as well."
--
Demyx emerged from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing the dress and scarf and looking, for all anyone could tell, like an ordinary village woman. Zexion himself was wearing appropriate clothing for the time, and had somehow managed to tie his slate-colored hair back into a small ponytail.
Demyx blinked. "Hey, I can see the other half of your face."
"Refrain from commenting on my appearance, Nine, and I shall in turn refrain from commenting on just how fetching that dress you are wearing is."
She bit her lip angrily. "You know, it sucks that we’re both stuck here, but you could, y’know, try not to be an asshole."
"I seem to recall that it was your doing that got us into this mess, darling," Zexion retorted sourly. "As unpleasant as this is for both of us, we shall simply have to bear with it and resist insulting each other as much as possible. As it stands, we need to pretend to be a happily married couple right now, because there is no food in this cottage."
Demyx’s face fell. "You mean we have to go shopping?" she whined.
"Yes, we do."
"But the women are gonna be all gossipy and are gonna try to get me to do… woman things."
"Then you’ll just have to grin and bear it."
--
Of course, they didn’t account for the poor provincial town to also be a bustling hive of gossip. They skirted a boorish man in leather breeches proclaiming that he, Claude, was the best, strongest, fastest and smartest man in the village, and that his unborn son, Gaston, would be just as amazing.
They stopped at the baker’s, and got several baguettes, and at the butcher’s and the grocer’s as well. They passed a bookseller and Zexion gave the shop front a longing stare, but due to a shortage of munny and Demyx’s insistence that they plow through their shopping excursion as quickly as possible prevented him from entering.
"So, where to next?" Demyx sighed, adjusting her grip on their bags.
"Mmm . . . . well . . . . " Zexion fumbled for the paper list of things to do. He was fairly certain that they'd finished their chores for the day, but just in case . . . .
"Lost your way?" another voice broke in. As the two Nobodies turned toward the source, a young woman sauntered towards them with a small smile.
"And you would be?" Zexion asked in tones of mild curiosity. Red hair, green eyes - really, she could have passed for a distant relative of Axel's.
"I'm Axelle, dears. Do remember it." She smiled enticingly at him.
It took a great amount of restraint on Zexion’s part to not let his jaw hit the ground. Demyx, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and her mouth hung wide open.
"Careful," Axelle purred. "Bugs might fly in." Demyx snapped her mouth shut. Axelle looked the two up and down. "So I take it you two aren’t from around these parts?"
Zexion composed himself and replied, "No, we’re travelers, but we have decided to move here as we have been recently married."
Axelle nodded. "Well, that’s fine. Listen, if you ever need anything, you be sure and come to talk to me, mmkay?" She winked at the two and sauntered away.
They stood there dumbly for a moment until Demyx turned to Zexion and spluttered, "Okay, that was one of the most surreal and downright freaky things I have ever seen. Was that a female version of Axel or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
"No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I agree with you - that was surreal and downright 'freaky'."
"I wonder if his other is from around here," Demyx mused.
"If that is the case, then he has either not been born yet, or is a toddler."
Demyx made a face. "I bet Axel was a holy terror as a kid."
"I'm inclined to agree," Zexion replied distantly, still staring after the Axel-twin.
After a few moments of silence, Demyx nudged him gently. "So. Um. Zexion. Where to next?"
"Oh, right." Zexion turned his attention back to the current moment, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket after a few minutes of fumbling awkwardly for it. "Ah, as I thought. We're done for today."
"Really? We can go home now?" Zexion nodded; Demyx's face broke into a huge grin, and she threw her head back with an exultant laugh. "Yes! Finally, I can get out of these damn clothes!"
"Ah. Demyx," Zexion said quietly, staring at the ground.
"Mm?"
"While it is assumed that, as a married couple, we do indeed have a sex life, implying so much in public is generally frowned upon."
Demyx paused. "Wait, wh- oh. Ohhhhh." She went very red.
Zexion sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why did I have to be stuck with this imbecile? Why?"
--
"Yes, who -" Zexion paused as he opened the door. "Ah, Maurice. Was there something you wanted?"
The older man smiled apologetically. "I hate to pull you away like this - I know you're getting settled and all - but I was wondering if perhaps you'd help me with a little project of mine? I just need an extra pair of hands, that sort of thing, you know."
"Ah, of course." Zexion smiled, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
"You're not going to tell Demyx where you're going?"
"Mm? Oh. No, h-she will be fine on her own," Zexion replied, cursing himself internally for still stumbling over the pronoun.
"Still, it might be nice of you to let her know," Maurice said, throwing a doubtful look at Zexion. "She is your wife, after all."
"Your concern is much appreciated, but we're fine," the slate-haired Nobody responded with a cordial smile. They walked on for a few minutes in silence.
At last, Maurice sighed. "You should be happy to have her, Zexion," he said quietly. "Cherish her at every possible moment. We never know how dear those close to us are until they're gone, after all."
"Yes, thank you," Zexion said stiffly. "I believe there was some task you desired my aid in accomplishing?"
Maurice hesitated as they reached his own cottage, then sighed, holding the door open for Zexion. "Yes, in here."
--
Zexion crept back into the cottage quietly after they'd finished. It was late, and he didn't want to think of all the complaining he'd have to put up with if Demyx was sleeping and Zexion woke her up.
Demyx appeared to be sleeping soundly as he stepped into the bedroom. Zexion sighed, tugging off his work clothes and going to put on his bedclothes.
As he gently tugged out the bedcovers on his side of the bed, Demyx shifted and mumbled softly, "You're back?"
Zexion paused. "Did I wake you?"
"Mmm. 's okay. Where were you?"
"Maurice needed help with an experiment of his." Zexion slid under the covers. "Good night, Demyx."
Demyx hesitated, almost as if she were about to say something. Then she sighed, murmuring, "Yeah. G'night, Zexion."
Zexion settled onto the pillow, making himself more comfortable. Already he was almost asleep. "You smell different," he noted tiredly.
"Mmm?" Demyx rolled over to face him, confusion apparent in her sleep-muddled eyes. "What d'you mean?"
"From before. Didn't notice it till now," Zexion murmured, closing his eyes.
Silence. Then, "Is that bad?"
But Zexion was already asleep.
Chapitre Fin
End Notes: Axelle is actually a French girl's name. We were doing research for the story, found it, and decided it needed to be in there. Hoping you liked it, and we'll see you next time! ♥
Authors: villanelle_koi, cup_ramen_chaos
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: Probably R, for the moment.
Summary: The worst part wasn't that they were stranded twenty years in the past. Nor was it the fact that he was stuck with Zexion, of all people. No, for Demyx, the worst part was getting turned into a woman.
Disclaimer: Do you really think the original creators would have put these characters through this kind of torture?
Notes: Forgive me. I humbly turn myself in for whatever punishment you may devise for me. I deserve it. I have only this to say in my defense - Ryune and I craved genderswitch. We desired our glorious crack. And we apparently have brains on LSD. ....And dear lord but this was fun. That said, enjoy!
A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle
Chapitre Un
"What are we doing here?" Demyx asked, glancing around at the trees just a touch nervously.
"Don't you at least try to pay attention to instructions, Nine?" Zexion sighed in tones of exasperation. "We're here because Vexen's instruments picked up an abnormal reading coming from the Beast's Castle. Hence the Superior sent us to investigate, considering we're the pair most apt for spying and subtlety." Here he glanced over Demyx scornfully. "Though I don't understand how you could possibly have any aptitude for such an endeavor."
Demyx stared at him for a few moments. "Okay," he said slowly, "I'm going to ignore the insult there. I already knew that, Zexion. My point is, where the hell are we?"
"A forest, obviously," Zexion said curtly, ignoring Demyx’s dour grumblings about him being short, snobby, stuck-up and otherwise a jerk. Of course it was a forest, they were surrounded by trees and could hear wolves howling in distance. What else would it be?
"So which way is the castle?" asked Demyx, rubbing his nose and shrugging off his hood. Zexion made a vague gesture towards the north, and the two set out to find the Castle.
They were stopped by a woman in a white dress that seemed to shimmer and sparkle. She was nearly reeking of power, Zexion noted with his sensitive nose. Not the type he would want to anger unnecessarily.
Zexion glanced to Demyx, hoping he wouldn't do anything rash, then back to the woman. "Excuse me," he said politely, "but -"
"What is your errand here?" she cut him off.
Zexion paused; Demyx jumped in instead. "We heard there was some sort of . . . . um, disturbance here and wanted to check it out," he said carefully. "Can you tell us -"
"You are not native to this land," the woman said over his question.
Demyx scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um -"
"What brings offworlders to such a place as this?" she continued.
"Off . . . . worlders?" Demyx said weakly, apparently giving up his attempts at this point.
"Do not presume me a fool." Her eyes hardened, just a bit. "Your garments are not those of the native people, and you still have traces of the time-warping spell you interrupted on you."
Both Nobodies paused.
Tentatively, Zexion said "Time . . . ."
". . . . Warping?" Demyx finished weakly.
The woman pursed her lips. "Yes, time-warping. Are you deaf?"
"By 'time-warping'," Zexion said warily, "what, precisely, do you mean?"
She sighed, obviously irritated. "I mean that you were foolish enough to blunder into a pocket of warped time. You are lucky to have only ended up twenty years in the past. It could have been far worse."
"Twenty years?" Demyx demanded. "But that -"
The woman's hard eyes snapped to him. "You should be grateful it was no worse, you petulant child. Hold your tongue."
Demyx opened his mouth again, but at a warning glance from Zexion he thought better of it. The slate-haired Nobody turned to the woman. "And who might you be, madam? You seem to know quite a lot about this, and how we arrived in these circumstances."
The woman drew herself up proudly with the hint of a smile. "I am the Enchantress of this land," she replied. "Some call me the Lady d'Hiver; you may refer to me by that name, if you wish."
"Ah, I see," Zexion responded cordially. "Well then, Lady d'Hiver, perhaps you might return us to our proper home and time, then? We merely wished to investigate the source of the disturbance, and meant you no harm . . . ."
Her lips curved into a smirk. "Perhaps," she replied coolly.
Demyx let out a small sound of frustration. "Honestly. Women," he grumbled to Zexion. "I mean, can't they ever just be straight with you instead of all this -"
"Demyx," Zexion warned.
"Look, Zex, she's been an utterly demanding bitch to us the whole time!" Demyx continued. "I mean, is she PMSing or something? Did we catch her on her period?"
"Demyx," Zexion said in a menacing tone.
"Zexion -"
"I see you understand little of women, if you believe something so foolish," the Enchantress said, and now her smile was gone and her demeanor far more forbidding. "Very well then. Perhaps I shall . . . . enlighten you." She pointed at him dramatically, an otherworldly glow sparking in her eyes as she declared, "This oath I lay upon thee: that neither shall you be returned to your true form, nor shall you and your companion return to your rightful home, until the day comes when you know what it truly is to be a woman. So shall it be henceforth, from this day till then." And with that, she turned and strode off into the forbidding darkness of the forest.
"Wait," Zexion called, running after her, but she seemed to have vanished.
With a sigh, he turned back to Demyx. "Well, that was a complete and utter disas-" Then he stopped, and stared.
Demyx was looking down at himself with an expression of shock. Slowly, he lifted a hand and grasped one of the breasts now adorning his chest (and threatening to burst open his zipper), almost as if making sure it was real. "I . . . . I . . . . huh?"
Although Zexion was generally one to hold his tongue until he had something to say, very rarely was he at a loss for words.
This qualified as one of those times.
Finally, after an eternity of stunned silence, punctuated every now and then by a horrified squeak as Demyx tried to internalize what had occurred, Zexion finally managed to blurt, "She turned you into a woman."
"YES, she turned me into a woman!" Demyx roared angrily, pointing to his - well, her - chest. "I have boobs, Zexion! Boobs! How am I supposed to explain this at the next meeting, huh?"
"I would imagine you have additional female anatomy as well," Zexion mumbled, trying just as hard as Demyx to process the fact that Number Nine was now, indeed, a woman.
Finally, Demyx couldn’t take it anymore. She stomped behind a tree, obscured from Zexion’s view. The Schemer couldn’t see what was happening, but the tell-tale sound of a zipper indicated that Demyx was inspecting herself. The indignant scream (a rather girly one, although that was understandable) was proof enough.
Demyx whipped back around the tree, holding her coat closed with one hand, the other shoved down the front of her pants. "It’s GONE, Zexion! It’s fucking GONE!"
"Well, I would imagine that your penis would be gone, Nine, seeing as you are now a woman." Zexion cleared his throat, fighting a blush. "Could you please zip your coat back up so we can figure out how to extract ourselves from this mess?"
Demyx zipped her coat up and wailed mournfully, "This is seriously the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, it’s bad enough that I had to lose my heart, now I go and lose my dick, too?" Her shoulders slumped. "This is so unfair."
"Yes. Ah. Well," Zexion said uncomfortably. "We should probably attempt to find some sort of village or whatnot . . . . as I suspect that we'll be here for quite a while."
"Yeah. Great. Just great," Demyx muttered. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Lead on, o great one, lead on."
--
"So, you've been seekin' a place to settle down, eh?" The bartender watched the pair of them warily.
Zexion smiled politely. "Yes. Myself and my -" quickly he considered the possible explanations he could give, and selected the least conspicuous one, "- my wife are attempting to find a new life for ourselves. This village seems an ideal place to settle down . . . ." There was a muffled sound of protest from Demyx at the word "wife", but nothing else.
"Oh, aye, I s'pose. And the pair o' you struck out all on your own, then?"
Zexion nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Might you know of a good place to stay, until we have our own home?"
"Oh? It's lodgings you need?" another voice broke in.
Zexion turned, his smile growing warmer. "Yes, for the moment at least."
The man who'd spoken up smiled in return. "I'm Maurice. There's another small cottage on my property, if you're interested. 'Tisn't much, but . . . ."
"Thank you, that will do quite nicely," Zexion replied, smiling gratefully. "And in return, you'd like . . . . ?"
"Ah, no more than you can afford," Maurice assured him blithely. "And perhaps company once in a while, or help in an experiment or two when I've need of it."
"Experiment?" Zexion asked.
"Oh, yes. I'm an inventor," Maurice said with a grin. "Not much of one, but it's a living."
Zexion's smile grew wider. "I believe I might be of some use to you after all, then," he said quietly. "I've studied many theories and sciences, in the days of my youth."
"Oh-ho? And where were those days spent, to have such a fine education, lad?"
"Nowhere in particular." Zexion shrugged. "That's in the past now, in any case. So, we have a bargain?"
"Indeed we do, sir," Maurice replied, extending a hand to shake. "Can I dare to ask your name?"
Zexion allowed himself a small laugh. "Of course," he replied shaking Maurice's hand warmly. "I'm Zexion, Zexion Prideaux. This is my wife, Demyx."
"Zexion and Demyx? Unusual names," Maurice remarked.
"I really can't thank you enough . . . ." Zexion began, hoping to distract the man from that particular train of thought.
The older man waved this concern away. "Think nothing of it, lad. If it eases your mind, think of it as a gift to the newlyweds." And here he winked.
Here Zexion paused, before deciding to go with this. "You could tell?"
"Oh, yes. Young lovers, you know." Maurice leaned back in his chair. "So, then, that's settled."
This exchange seemed to embolden the others in the tavern, and soon questions were flying at the newcomers from all directions. Zexion answered these to the best of his abilities; Demyx, in the meantime, simply sat and stared at her chest mournfully.
--
"I can't believe I have to be married to you," Demyx grumbled later that night, after they'd gotten to their new home. "And that we have to share a bed."
"That is what married couples do, Demyx," Zexion sighed. "And there's only one bed. Believe me when I say it's as onerous for me as it is for you."
"Yeah, sure, I'll just bet -"
Whatever Demyx was betting on would have to wait for another time, as there was a knock on the door.
Zexion went to the door. "Ah, Maurice?"
The inventor smiled, holding out a basket. "Here, some extra clothes for you and your wife; I notice hers don't quite fit, and neither of you will be comfortable in those for long."
Zexion took the basket carefully. "Thank you . . . . much appreciated."
"Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves to get adjusted, then," Maurice said, smiling. "Good night!"
"Good night, Maurice," Zexion replied, closing the door gently.
"Who was that?" Demyx asked from their bedroom.
"Maurice. He brought some new clothes for us," Zexion called back.
Demyx took the basket from Zexion and rifled through the contents. She finally pulled out a wine-colored frock and a white shirt, frowning at the slip of paper with her name written on it that was pinned to the offending garments. "Dresses."
"Of course," Zexion said smoothly. "This is France, and you are a woman. The villagers would be scandalized if they saw you wearing men’s clothing."
"They’d be scandalized if they knew I was really -"
Zexion clapped a hand over Demyx’s mouth. "I know that, and you know that. If we are to survive here, unnoticed as outsiders and unnoticed as nobodies, we must make every effort to blend in. You announcing that when anyone could potentially be listening is foolish."
Demyx grumbled petulantly and turned toward the bedroom.
"Ah, one moment." Zexion called to her retreating back. He tossed her another article of clothing. "Maurice seems to think you should wear this as well."
"A scarf?"
"Your hairstyle is considered odd, even for a male member of the Organization. Imagine how much odder it will be considered here."
She pouted, then retorted, "Well, what about you? Your ‘do isn’t any less conspicuous."
Zexion closed his eyes, fighting back the tiniest flutter of frustration. "I will attempt to do something with my hair as well."
--
Demyx emerged from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing the dress and scarf and looking, for all anyone could tell, like an ordinary village woman. Zexion himself was wearing appropriate clothing for the time, and had somehow managed to tie his slate-colored hair back into a small ponytail.
Demyx blinked. "Hey, I can see the other half of your face."
"Refrain from commenting on my appearance, Nine, and I shall in turn refrain from commenting on just how fetching that dress you are wearing is."
She bit her lip angrily. "You know, it sucks that we’re both stuck here, but you could, y’know, try not to be an asshole."
"I seem to recall that it was your doing that got us into this mess, darling," Zexion retorted sourly. "As unpleasant as this is for both of us, we shall simply have to bear with it and resist insulting each other as much as possible. As it stands, we need to pretend to be a happily married couple right now, because there is no food in this cottage."
Demyx’s face fell. "You mean we have to go shopping?" she whined.
"Yes, we do."
"But the women are gonna be all gossipy and are gonna try to get me to do… woman things."
"Then you’ll just have to grin and bear it."
--
Of course, they didn’t account for the poor provincial town to also be a bustling hive of gossip. They skirted a boorish man in leather breeches proclaiming that he, Claude, was the best, strongest, fastest and smartest man in the village, and that his unborn son, Gaston, would be just as amazing.
They stopped at the baker’s, and got several baguettes, and at the butcher’s and the grocer’s as well. They passed a bookseller and Zexion gave the shop front a longing stare, but due to a shortage of munny and Demyx’s insistence that they plow through their shopping excursion as quickly as possible prevented him from entering.
"So, where to next?" Demyx sighed, adjusting her grip on their bags.
"Mmm . . . . well . . . . " Zexion fumbled for the paper list of things to do. He was fairly certain that they'd finished their chores for the day, but just in case . . . .
"Lost your way?" another voice broke in. As the two Nobodies turned toward the source, a young woman sauntered towards them with a small smile.
"And you would be?" Zexion asked in tones of mild curiosity. Red hair, green eyes - really, she could have passed for a distant relative of Axel's.
"I'm Axelle, dears. Do remember it." She smiled enticingly at him.
It took a great amount of restraint on Zexion’s part to not let his jaw hit the ground. Demyx, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and her mouth hung wide open.
"Careful," Axelle purred. "Bugs might fly in." Demyx snapped her mouth shut. Axelle looked the two up and down. "So I take it you two aren’t from around these parts?"
Zexion composed himself and replied, "No, we’re travelers, but we have decided to move here as we have been recently married."
Axelle nodded. "Well, that’s fine. Listen, if you ever need anything, you be sure and come to talk to me, mmkay?" She winked at the two and sauntered away.
They stood there dumbly for a moment until Demyx turned to Zexion and spluttered, "Okay, that was one of the most surreal and downright freaky things I have ever seen. Was that a female version of Axel or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
"No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I agree with you - that was surreal and downright 'freaky'."
"I wonder if his other is from around here," Demyx mused.
"If that is the case, then he has either not been born yet, or is a toddler."
Demyx made a face. "I bet Axel was a holy terror as a kid."
"I'm inclined to agree," Zexion replied distantly, still staring after the Axel-twin.
After a few moments of silence, Demyx nudged him gently. "So. Um. Zexion. Where to next?"
"Oh, right." Zexion turned his attention back to the current moment, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket after a few minutes of fumbling awkwardly for it. "Ah, as I thought. We're done for today."
"Really? We can go home now?" Zexion nodded; Demyx's face broke into a huge grin, and she threw her head back with an exultant laugh. "Yes! Finally, I can get out of these damn clothes!"
"Ah. Demyx," Zexion said quietly, staring at the ground.
"Mm?"
"While it is assumed that, as a married couple, we do indeed have a sex life, implying so much in public is generally frowned upon."
Demyx paused. "Wait, wh- oh. Ohhhhh." She went very red.
Zexion sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why did I have to be stuck with this imbecile? Why?"
--
"Yes, who -" Zexion paused as he opened the door. "Ah, Maurice. Was there something you wanted?"
The older man smiled apologetically. "I hate to pull you away like this - I know you're getting settled and all - but I was wondering if perhaps you'd help me with a little project of mine? I just need an extra pair of hands, that sort of thing, you know."
"Ah, of course." Zexion smiled, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
"You're not going to tell Demyx where you're going?"
"Mm? Oh. No, h-she will be fine on her own," Zexion replied, cursing himself internally for still stumbling over the pronoun.
"Still, it might be nice of you to let her know," Maurice said, throwing a doubtful look at Zexion. "She is your wife, after all."
"Your concern is much appreciated, but we're fine," the slate-haired Nobody responded with a cordial smile. They walked on for a few minutes in silence.
At last, Maurice sighed. "You should be happy to have her, Zexion," he said quietly. "Cherish her at every possible moment. We never know how dear those close to us are until they're gone, after all."
"Yes, thank you," Zexion said stiffly. "I believe there was some task you desired my aid in accomplishing?"
Maurice hesitated as they reached his own cottage, then sighed, holding the door open for Zexion. "Yes, in here."
--
Zexion crept back into the cottage quietly after they'd finished. It was late, and he didn't want to think of all the complaining he'd have to put up with if Demyx was sleeping and Zexion woke her up.
Demyx appeared to be sleeping soundly as he stepped into the bedroom. Zexion sighed, tugging off his work clothes and going to put on his bedclothes.
As he gently tugged out the bedcovers on his side of the bed, Demyx shifted and mumbled softly, "You're back?"
Zexion paused. "Did I wake you?"
"Mmm. 's okay. Where were you?"
"Maurice needed help with an experiment of his." Zexion slid under the covers. "Good night, Demyx."
Demyx hesitated, almost as if she were about to say something. Then she sighed, murmuring, "Yeah. G'night, Zexion."
Zexion settled onto the pillow, making himself more comfortable. Already he was almost asleep. "You smell different," he noted tiredly.
"Mmm?" Demyx rolled over to face him, confusion apparent in her sleep-muddled eyes. "What d'you mean?"
"From before. Didn't notice it till now," Zexion murmured, closing his eyes.
Silence. Then, "Is that bad?"
But Zexion was already asleep.
Chapitre Fin
End Notes: Axelle is actually a French girl's name. We were doing research for the story, found it, and decided it needed to be in there. Hoping you liked it, and we'll see you next time! ♥