Another old, unfinished fic to toss in here
Title: Untitled
Warnings: Suikoden III spoilers, genderbending, embarrassing old writing *coughs*
Series: Suikoden III
Pairing: None; Nash/Albert undertones
Summary: Inspired by RPs with pansiest_bishop. Post-Suikoden III events/reflection stuff. Written waaaay back in early 2005, I think.
Albert Silverberg had a secret.
It was not, by any means, the worst secret one could have. In contrast, there were much darker secrets that a person could keep locked away, and Albert Silverberg was no stranger to those kinds of secrets. Still, it was a secret that held great meaning, and the very knowledge that came with dispersing the secret could spell disaster for Silverberg’s career.
You see, he was not Albert Silverberg at all.
In fact, he was not a he at all.
Everything else about her life was as true as the sky was blue. First born of George and Rhodora Silverberg, she was named for nobility and excelled in the skills that made the Silverberg family renowned. She was the elder sibling to Caesar, and she had graduated at the top of her class in Soledt -- with additional honors, no less. She was now currently serving as a strategist under Bishop Sasarai -- soon to be promoted, if everything had gone according to plan.
With everything recently settled as far as the Destroyers went, Albert (she hated her real name with a passion) patiently stood by as Harmonian soldiers drank and relaxed only three days after the fall of the old Sindarin ceremonial site. To the common observer, Albert simply stood in the sparse shade of a stone formation overlooking the camp with unbreakable aloofness.
“Maggots. So easily fooled.”
Yuber was perhaps the only person within a hundred-mile radius that knew her true gender; it was possible Caesar and Apple were still within that area, so she could not exclude them from her statement at the moment. The demon had been able to take one glance at her and sneer at the secrets that she hid underneath a body-obscuring coat and boyish features. In many ways, Yuber was her closest confidant; he was the only one that knew about her gender and how closely she had worked with Luc, but he knew how to hold his tongue.
“You sound like you’re complaining, Yuber.” Her voice was a low alto, and she was so accustomed to speaking in a pseudo-masculine tone that she had all but forgotten her voice as a child.
“The strongest country in the world and the soldiers were that easily manipulated,” mused the dark-clad knight, glancing at his contractor.
“You forgot to mention that Luc was able to get into the Crystal Palace without so much as an alarm being sounded,” Albert replied, her words clipped as she spoke of the dead True Rune bearer.
A chuckle from the dark knight. “Yes, all of those dirty deeds. Courtesy of our master puppeteer.”
Albert did not look as the blonde made a mocking bow, folding her arms over her chest. “What is our outlook of success in gathering information from the ruins?”
“It should be done before you reach Harmonia.” Yuber smiled thinly at the redhead’s seriousness. “It would have been earlier if we hadn’t left Serenia so quickly. If my minions come up with anything of interest, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
“Good.” The Queendom of Falena was interested in information about the Sindar ruins found in other countries, and she had no qualms with selling the necessary information for a bit more recognition. “I expect results, Yuber.”
“Of course, Silverberg.” Yuber’s armor scraped about the rock as he straightened, and he smirked for all of a moment. “I’ll keep in touch.”
With that, the demon summoned forth a golden circle and sank into it, leaving the young strategist standing alone in the shade. Rolling her shoulders and meticulously fixing her clothing, Albert grudgingly left her perch to rejoin the rest of the gathered Harmonians.
**
It was no secret that Albert Silverberg was a serious character. He was a high-ranking officer and a Silverberg to boot, so it went without saying that he would not be the life of any parties.
But did he really have to be a stick in the mud?
Nash glanced over at the young man standing just within the glow of the fire, taking in the ever-present frown and rather severe expression. It seemed like he was not a big party person, and that was all fine and dandy (it just meant more liquor for him), but would it kill him to smile once in awhile? He was only 24 and looking more serious than Bishop Sasarai on one of his good days.
He, on the other hand, had no problem at all with talking and drinking with the soldiers. When there was a good reason to be celebrating, he would never be the one to turn down a cold one. Granted, he was no longer one of the first to succumb to the vast amounts of alcohol and he was more reserved in general, but he still knew a good time when he saw one.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one to think so; he watched a few soldiers walk over to the young Silverberg and begin talking him up. Albert was very reserved, his answers short and his face as terse as ever. He raised a brow when a brave soldier touched the redhead’s arm, unable to keep the smirk from his face when Albert withdrew from the touch and said something to the soldiers that made them retreat.
Hmph. A stubborn one, huh? Nash stretched and stood up, leaving the soldiers he had sat down with to casually stroll towards the other man.
“Hey there, Albert,” he greeted as he swaggered over, using the strategist’s first name to push at Albert’s protective barrier. “I love you, man.”
Albert’s green eyes widened slightly -- even intoxicated, Nash was able to catch the slight change. It also took the redhead a moment longer than usual to reply, which was amusing. “… What are you doing, Latkje?”
The smirk didn’t leave Nash’s face at the mentioning of the name he had dropped to protect himself and his sister. It was clear he had already set the strategist on edge with his off-kilter opening, and all the proof he needed was in Albert’s mentioning of blackmail-worthy information. “Very smooth, Silverberg,” he chuckled. “I’m sure your shirking off those soldiers will earn you respect around here.”
“There should be a line of respect between soldiers and their commanding officers,” Albert said tightly, frowning at the blonde. “You shouldn’t be traipsing about and mingling around so whimsically, for that matter.”
Nash crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly to meet the other man’s gaze. “I do what I please, and I’m pleased with what I do,” he replied, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You look pretty suspicious standing alone as it is; one would think that the traitor of the Destroyers isn’t much of a traitor at all.”
Blackmail was still blackmail. The two sized each other up, knowing they both had something on the other that could potentially land them in hot water. “And why do you bring up something like that, Latkje?” Albert muttered, hands clenching into slow fists. “… You better not be saying this out of drunken fancy…”
“Because you, young man, need to loosen up for once.” Nash uncrossed his arms and slapped Albert’s shoulder companionably, which was a great change from the tension generated between the two only a few moments ago. “And I am not drunk. Just pleasantly buzzed.”
“You’re certainly something,” the redheaded strategist stabbed, body tense from the friendly touch. “So what are you waiting for? For me to drink?”
A slight smirk. “If that’s what you think I’m talking about.”
“No.”
“Stick in the mud.”
A crimson brow shot up. “You must be drunk to be acting this childish.”
Nash laughed. “Drunkenness has nothing to do with it, Silverberg.” He opened his arms up. “Now… Are we going to go or not?”
Albert frowned. “Now you’re talking about going somewhere?” An exasperated sigh. “I don’t think that would be a wise decision, Latkje.”
Letting his arms fall back to his sides briefly, Nash propped one hand on his hip and poked Albert in the chest pointedly. “It would be wise of you to stop calling me by that name. Wouldn’t want to lose your blackmail information, would you?”
Though Albert heard the taunt, the strategist’s attention was more focused on Nash’s physical action. He drew back, his arms folding protectively over his chest. Nash chuckled and shrugged, tilting his head as a familiar figure caught his eye. “It seems the bishop’s decided to give a speech.”
The bishop that stepped onto the makeshift platform was Sasarai, his face relatively open for a man of his standing. He was greeted by scattered applause and cheers from the troops, and he smiled before launching into a speech of gratitude to the soldiers and officers that participated in the war effort. Even with the end of the skirmishes against the Destroyers, it was best to keep up the army morale.
For the most part, Albert did not pay attention to the speech; Nash could tell simply by the guarded look in the younger man’s eyes. It was peculiar; Silverberg was usually alert and aware of his surroundings, especially the words of a superior. He studiously looked away when Albert glanced at him, wondering what could have set the strategist on edge so quickly.
“I would especially like to thank our officers for working collectively with our new head strategist. Their efforts surely helped keep casualties to a minimum.”
Nash smiled wryly at Sasarai’s modesty. There were as many instances where the bishop’s intervention with his True Rune had saved soldiers as there were instances where Albert’s tactics proved entirely successful. When Sasarai had finished his speech, he turned his attention back to Albert. “It seems that Sasarai has decided to give credit where it isn’t due.”
If he was expecting Albert to be insulted by the remark, he was sadly mistaken. “To say that I deserve his gratitude is an overstatement.” Though he was replying, the redhead remained distracted by something that Nash couldn’t discern. “You and I both know that.”
“You’re as responsible for this war as Luc is.” Nash was careful to keep his voice from being accusatory; he did not want to make the redhead disengage from the conversation just yet. “Someday, you’ll pay for that.”
“And will you be the one to bring me to justice?” Albert muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. “You must admit that there was more to the war than simply me.”
“You were still Luc’s right-hand man,” shrugged Nash. “I doubt he would have gotten as far as he did without your help.” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s hardly the matter we were talking about, anyway. No wonder you always act like you have a stick up your ass.”
Albert started slightly at the abrupt change of subject, grimacing at the metaphor. “If you are trying to annoy me, it’s working.”
“Not my intention -- at least, not my only one,” Nash remarked cheekily. “Now, as I was saying earlier, shall we go?”
“Go where?” The younger man actually had to force the exasperation out of his voice. “Maybe I would be more inclined to respond favorably if you stopped talking in circles.”
“Touché, Mr. Silverberg,” laughed the fallen aristocrat. “I’d like to talk somewhere more private, if you don’t mind. I’m under the impression it’d be easier to crack that armor of yours on a one-on-one basis. Man to man and all that.”
“Man to man, hmm?” Albert looked wryly at Nash, taking his time in shrugging. “Very well. Lead the way, Mr. Clovis.”
**
It had taken quite a bit of prodding on Nash’s part, but he had managed to coax Albert into sharing some liquor with him. He had, of course, failed to mention that they were drinking liquor and not wine, and he skillfully diverted the redhead’s attention whenever he thought Albert was going to inquire on what they were drinking. Seeing as he did not know the younger man very well, he could not gauge whether or not Albert actually knew anything on wines or liquor.
But, seeing as Albert was an aristocrat, he probably had some sort of knowledge under his hat. Thus it was imperative to keep him in the dark about the liquor.
They drank slowly and spoke little, though Nash had suspected that there would be a slow start. Silverberg was not much of a conversationalist, and he was not about to start up a one-sided conversation with him … though it would be amusing to see how he would react to that.
Five drinks later, Albert was looking anything but reserved. Nash suppressed a chuckle as he looked at the inebriated young man. “Feeling under the weather, Silverberg?”
“Woozy,” Albert murmured, coughing lightly and waving dismissively at the blonde. “You wanna make something of it, Latkje?”
“Those’re fighting words, Mr. Strategist,” teased Nash, leaning forward over the table and snickering outright at the redhead. “I don’t think you could … y’know, win in a fight.”
Albert had the grace -- or alcohol-level -- to look indignant. “I could take you. I’ve got the height adva-- advantage.”
“Not that much of one.” Nash reached over to poke Albert on the forehead, but missed and instead poked his nose.
The redhead scowled and swatted at Nash’s hand, smacking it hard enough to collide with his drinking glass. Nash giggled as Albert’s glass fell and shattered on the ground, finally feeling the effects of all the drinks he had previously ingested.
“Fighting words, broken cup… Heh, ’s like a brawl,” he remarked, unsteadily standing up and shuffling over to Albert’s side of the table to pick up the glass fragments. Halfway down, his sense of balance escaped him, and he reached for the table to steady himself. Instead of the table, his hand caught Albert’s shoulder, and he toppled to the ground, strategist in tow.
Nash grunted as he hit the ground, wincing as Albert half-landed on top of him. He squirmed out from underneath the redhead, grinning inanely at the annoyed look Albert gave him. Propping himself up on his hands above the younger man, Nash had to laugh when he was pushed away with both hands. He rolled away before trying to retaliate, grappling Albert with an amused snort.
Though they were unable to comprehend it in their drunken state, the two Harmonian operatives were wrestling within minutes.
**
Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and her head positively spun as she tried to lift it. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Albert dazedly began shaking off her sleepiness. She felt uncomfortably hot for some reason, and her chest was unusually heavy, making it difficult to breathe deeply. Wriggling her shoulders agitatedly, Albert opened her eyes.
She was greeted by the sight of Nash Clovis on top of her, his cheek cushioned by her quite-visible breasts.
Now, Albert was a reasonable woman. She had trained herself into acting like a man with such skill that she could even make her younger brother do a double-take. She acted masculine enough to fool the alert and attentive Bishop Sasarai, hid any decidedly-feminine features with great diligence, and trusted no one but her family and Yuber with the knowledge. It was all very logical, efficient, and had worked in her favor for years.
However, she was still a woman. And, as a woman, she valued her personal space.
It was this logic that led to her grabbing the nearest object she could find -- one of Nash’s discarded boots -- and begin hitting him with it. Tense and alert despite her drunkenness, she continued hitting the blonde, seething and shouting in a hardly masculine way.
Nash reacted almost immediately, scrambling onto his elbows before being struck back down by his own boot. He cursed and rolled off of Albert, holding his head in pain and trying to protect his side from any other attacks. Albert scooted away immediately, holding her own head as it began to pound. “Latkje, what happened last night?!”
The Harmonian immediately did a double-take at the familiar voice, his eyes slowly going wide as he looked at the person sitting across the floor from him. Albert grimaced as she looked down at herself, dimly noting her missing coat and torn shirt amongst the light bruises and scratches. Thankfully, her pants were still intact, so it was highly unlikely anything of the sexual nature actually happened between them in their drunken stupor.
Of course, that did not alleviate the situation at all, and she threw Nash’s boot at him in frustration.
Nash lifted both arms to defend himself from the projectile, blinking several times at Albert’s … considerable amount of chest … in astonishment. “I should’ve known you were a girl… I’ve never had so much trouble with a man before!”
If Albert had not already been distracted by her disgruntlement, she would have stared at Nash incredulously. She picked herself up from the ground amidst complaining muscles and cracking bones, holding her shirt closed as she searched for her coat. For the most part, she seemed too preoccupied to completely absorb the repercussions of Nash’s discovery.
Nash, on the other hand, seemed to be focusing onto his discovery with avid shock. “All this time…” He shook his head slowly, entertaining other alternatives. “Or you could be a demon… Maybe a demon infiltrating Harmonia assuming Silverberg’s form…”
“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Albert muttered, finding her coat carelessly draped over her satchel of parchments. “It’s very unlikely that any demon functions on a high enough level of intelligence to mimic an educated human, save possibly something Yuber made himself.” Tugging on her long coat and holding it closed, she looked at the older man guardedly. “You do realize I have to kill you now, right?”
Blue eyes narrowed fractionally before relaxing. “Boy, if only that were the first time I’ve heard that from a moody woman… You can’t do that, Silverberg; your secret will be out faster than you can kill me, especially since there’s no way you can do the deed yourself.” He paused, thinking about his options at the moment. “Listen, it’s not a big deal… I mean, sure, you’re a girl… So what, right?”
“Don’t patronize me,” the young woman said sternly. “You know as well as I do that female officers are rare in Harmonia, much less foreign females. It was difficult enough getting here fighting one taboo.”
Nash’s left eye twitched slightly. “Ah… You’re one of those.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nash was very glad that Albert did not have his other boot to throw at him at that moment. “Ah, er… You’re like my aunt, in a way. Just taller.” He edged away just slightly. “… And more likely to kill me for that comparison.”
The look Albert was gave him was unreadable. “Trying to lighten the mood, are you?”
“…Am I failing?”
“Profoundly,” Albert replied with a roll of her eyes. “Latkje, I have no patience for your foolishness."
Warnings: Suikoden III spoilers, genderbending, embarrassing old writing *coughs*
Series: Suikoden III
Pairing: None; Nash/Albert undertones
Summary: Inspired by RPs with pansiest_bishop. Post-Suikoden III events/reflection stuff. Written waaaay back in early 2005, I think.
Albert Silverberg had a secret.
It was not, by any means, the worst secret one could have. In contrast, there were much darker secrets that a person could keep locked away, and Albert Silverberg was no stranger to those kinds of secrets. Still, it was a secret that held great meaning, and the very knowledge that came with dispersing the secret could spell disaster for Silverberg’s career.
You see, he was not Albert Silverberg at all.
In fact, he was not a he at all.
Everything else about her life was as true as the sky was blue. First born of George and Rhodora Silverberg, she was named for nobility and excelled in the skills that made the Silverberg family renowned. She was the elder sibling to Caesar, and she had graduated at the top of her class in Soledt -- with additional honors, no less. She was now currently serving as a strategist under Bishop Sasarai -- soon to be promoted, if everything had gone according to plan.
With everything recently settled as far as the Destroyers went, Albert (she hated her real name with a passion) patiently stood by as Harmonian soldiers drank and relaxed only three days after the fall of the old Sindarin ceremonial site. To the common observer, Albert simply stood in the sparse shade of a stone formation overlooking the camp with unbreakable aloofness.
“Maggots. So easily fooled.”
Yuber was perhaps the only person within a hundred-mile radius that knew her true gender; it was possible Caesar and Apple were still within that area, so she could not exclude them from her statement at the moment. The demon had been able to take one glance at her and sneer at the secrets that she hid underneath a body-obscuring coat and boyish features. In many ways, Yuber was her closest confidant; he was the only one that knew about her gender and how closely she had worked with Luc, but he knew how to hold his tongue.
“You sound like you’re complaining, Yuber.” Her voice was a low alto, and she was so accustomed to speaking in a pseudo-masculine tone that she had all but forgotten her voice as a child.
“The strongest country in the world and the soldiers were that easily manipulated,” mused the dark-clad knight, glancing at his contractor.
“You forgot to mention that Luc was able to get into the Crystal Palace without so much as an alarm being sounded,” Albert replied, her words clipped as she spoke of the dead True Rune bearer.
A chuckle from the dark knight. “Yes, all of those dirty deeds. Courtesy of our master puppeteer.”
Albert did not look as the blonde made a mocking bow, folding her arms over her chest. “What is our outlook of success in gathering information from the ruins?”
“It should be done before you reach Harmonia.” Yuber smiled thinly at the redhead’s seriousness. “It would have been earlier if we hadn’t left Serenia so quickly. If my minions come up with anything of interest, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
“Good.” The Queendom of Falena was interested in information about the Sindar ruins found in other countries, and she had no qualms with selling the necessary information for a bit more recognition. “I expect results, Yuber.”
“Of course, Silverberg.” Yuber’s armor scraped about the rock as he straightened, and he smirked for all of a moment. “I’ll keep in touch.”
With that, the demon summoned forth a golden circle and sank into it, leaving the young strategist standing alone in the shade. Rolling her shoulders and meticulously fixing her clothing, Albert grudgingly left her perch to rejoin the rest of the gathered Harmonians.
**
It was no secret that Albert Silverberg was a serious character. He was a high-ranking officer and a Silverberg to boot, so it went without saying that he would not be the life of any parties.
But did he really have to be a stick in the mud?
Nash glanced over at the young man standing just within the glow of the fire, taking in the ever-present frown and rather severe expression. It seemed like he was not a big party person, and that was all fine and dandy (it just meant more liquor for him), but would it kill him to smile once in awhile? He was only 24 and looking more serious than Bishop Sasarai on one of his good days.
He, on the other hand, had no problem at all with talking and drinking with the soldiers. When there was a good reason to be celebrating, he would never be the one to turn down a cold one. Granted, he was no longer one of the first to succumb to the vast amounts of alcohol and he was more reserved in general, but he still knew a good time when he saw one.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one to think so; he watched a few soldiers walk over to the young Silverberg and begin talking him up. Albert was very reserved, his answers short and his face as terse as ever. He raised a brow when a brave soldier touched the redhead’s arm, unable to keep the smirk from his face when Albert withdrew from the touch and said something to the soldiers that made them retreat.
Hmph. A stubborn one, huh? Nash stretched and stood up, leaving the soldiers he had sat down with to casually stroll towards the other man.
“Hey there, Albert,” he greeted as he swaggered over, using the strategist’s first name to push at Albert’s protective barrier. “I love you, man.”
Albert’s green eyes widened slightly -- even intoxicated, Nash was able to catch the slight change. It also took the redhead a moment longer than usual to reply, which was amusing. “… What are you doing, Latkje?”
The smirk didn’t leave Nash’s face at the mentioning of the name he had dropped to protect himself and his sister. It was clear he had already set the strategist on edge with his off-kilter opening, and all the proof he needed was in Albert’s mentioning of blackmail-worthy information. “Very smooth, Silverberg,” he chuckled. “I’m sure your shirking off those soldiers will earn you respect around here.”
“There should be a line of respect between soldiers and their commanding officers,” Albert said tightly, frowning at the blonde. “You shouldn’t be traipsing about and mingling around so whimsically, for that matter.”
Nash crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly to meet the other man’s gaze. “I do what I please, and I’m pleased with what I do,” he replied, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You look pretty suspicious standing alone as it is; one would think that the traitor of the Destroyers isn’t much of a traitor at all.”
Blackmail was still blackmail. The two sized each other up, knowing they both had something on the other that could potentially land them in hot water. “And why do you bring up something like that, Latkje?” Albert muttered, hands clenching into slow fists. “… You better not be saying this out of drunken fancy…”
“Because you, young man, need to loosen up for once.” Nash uncrossed his arms and slapped Albert’s shoulder companionably, which was a great change from the tension generated between the two only a few moments ago. “And I am not drunk. Just pleasantly buzzed.”
“You’re certainly something,” the redheaded strategist stabbed, body tense from the friendly touch. “So what are you waiting for? For me to drink?”
A slight smirk. “If that’s what you think I’m talking about.”
“No.”
“Stick in the mud.”
A crimson brow shot up. “You must be drunk to be acting this childish.”
Nash laughed. “Drunkenness has nothing to do with it, Silverberg.” He opened his arms up. “Now… Are we going to go or not?”
Albert frowned. “Now you’re talking about going somewhere?” An exasperated sigh. “I don’t think that would be a wise decision, Latkje.”
Letting his arms fall back to his sides briefly, Nash propped one hand on his hip and poked Albert in the chest pointedly. “It would be wise of you to stop calling me by that name. Wouldn’t want to lose your blackmail information, would you?”
Though Albert heard the taunt, the strategist’s attention was more focused on Nash’s physical action. He drew back, his arms folding protectively over his chest. Nash chuckled and shrugged, tilting his head as a familiar figure caught his eye. “It seems the bishop’s decided to give a speech.”
The bishop that stepped onto the makeshift platform was Sasarai, his face relatively open for a man of his standing. He was greeted by scattered applause and cheers from the troops, and he smiled before launching into a speech of gratitude to the soldiers and officers that participated in the war effort. Even with the end of the skirmishes against the Destroyers, it was best to keep up the army morale.
For the most part, Albert did not pay attention to the speech; Nash could tell simply by the guarded look in the younger man’s eyes. It was peculiar; Silverberg was usually alert and aware of his surroundings, especially the words of a superior. He studiously looked away when Albert glanced at him, wondering what could have set the strategist on edge so quickly.
“I would especially like to thank our officers for working collectively with our new head strategist. Their efforts surely helped keep casualties to a minimum.”
Nash smiled wryly at Sasarai’s modesty. There were as many instances where the bishop’s intervention with his True Rune had saved soldiers as there were instances where Albert’s tactics proved entirely successful. When Sasarai had finished his speech, he turned his attention back to Albert. “It seems that Sasarai has decided to give credit where it isn’t due.”
If he was expecting Albert to be insulted by the remark, he was sadly mistaken. “To say that I deserve his gratitude is an overstatement.” Though he was replying, the redhead remained distracted by something that Nash couldn’t discern. “You and I both know that.”
“You’re as responsible for this war as Luc is.” Nash was careful to keep his voice from being accusatory; he did not want to make the redhead disengage from the conversation just yet. “Someday, you’ll pay for that.”
“And will you be the one to bring me to justice?” Albert muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. “You must admit that there was more to the war than simply me.”
“You were still Luc’s right-hand man,” shrugged Nash. “I doubt he would have gotten as far as he did without your help.” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s hardly the matter we were talking about, anyway. No wonder you always act like you have a stick up your ass.”
Albert started slightly at the abrupt change of subject, grimacing at the metaphor. “If you are trying to annoy me, it’s working.”
“Not my intention -- at least, not my only one,” Nash remarked cheekily. “Now, as I was saying earlier, shall we go?”
“Go where?” The younger man actually had to force the exasperation out of his voice. “Maybe I would be more inclined to respond favorably if you stopped talking in circles.”
“Touché, Mr. Silverberg,” laughed the fallen aristocrat. “I’d like to talk somewhere more private, if you don’t mind. I’m under the impression it’d be easier to crack that armor of yours on a one-on-one basis. Man to man and all that.”
“Man to man, hmm?” Albert looked wryly at Nash, taking his time in shrugging. “Very well. Lead the way, Mr. Clovis.”
**
It had taken quite a bit of prodding on Nash’s part, but he had managed to coax Albert into sharing some liquor with him. He had, of course, failed to mention that they were drinking liquor and not wine, and he skillfully diverted the redhead’s attention whenever he thought Albert was going to inquire on what they were drinking. Seeing as he did not know the younger man very well, he could not gauge whether or not Albert actually knew anything on wines or liquor.
But, seeing as Albert was an aristocrat, he probably had some sort of knowledge under his hat. Thus it was imperative to keep him in the dark about the liquor.
They drank slowly and spoke little, though Nash had suspected that there would be a slow start. Silverberg was not much of a conversationalist, and he was not about to start up a one-sided conversation with him … though it would be amusing to see how he would react to that.
Five drinks later, Albert was looking anything but reserved. Nash suppressed a chuckle as he looked at the inebriated young man. “Feeling under the weather, Silverberg?”
“Woozy,” Albert murmured, coughing lightly and waving dismissively at the blonde. “You wanna make something of it, Latkje?”
“Those’re fighting words, Mr. Strategist,” teased Nash, leaning forward over the table and snickering outright at the redhead. “I don’t think you could … y’know, win in a fight.”
Albert had the grace -- or alcohol-level -- to look indignant. “I could take you. I’ve got the height adva-- advantage.”
“Not that much of one.” Nash reached over to poke Albert on the forehead, but missed and instead poked his nose.
The redhead scowled and swatted at Nash’s hand, smacking it hard enough to collide with his drinking glass. Nash giggled as Albert’s glass fell and shattered on the ground, finally feeling the effects of all the drinks he had previously ingested.
“Fighting words, broken cup… Heh, ’s like a brawl,” he remarked, unsteadily standing up and shuffling over to Albert’s side of the table to pick up the glass fragments. Halfway down, his sense of balance escaped him, and he reached for the table to steady himself. Instead of the table, his hand caught Albert’s shoulder, and he toppled to the ground, strategist in tow.
Nash grunted as he hit the ground, wincing as Albert half-landed on top of him. He squirmed out from underneath the redhead, grinning inanely at the annoyed look Albert gave him. Propping himself up on his hands above the younger man, Nash had to laugh when he was pushed away with both hands. He rolled away before trying to retaliate, grappling Albert with an amused snort.
Though they were unable to comprehend it in their drunken state, the two Harmonian operatives were wrestling within minutes.
**
Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and her head positively spun as she tried to lift it. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Albert dazedly began shaking off her sleepiness. She felt uncomfortably hot for some reason, and her chest was unusually heavy, making it difficult to breathe deeply. Wriggling her shoulders agitatedly, Albert opened her eyes.
She was greeted by the sight of Nash Clovis on top of her, his cheek cushioned by her quite-visible breasts.
Now, Albert was a reasonable woman. She had trained herself into acting like a man with such skill that she could even make her younger brother do a double-take. She acted masculine enough to fool the alert and attentive Bishop Sasarai, hid any decidedly-feminine features with great diligence, and trusted no one but her family and Yuber with the knowledge. It was all very logical, efficient, and had worked in her favor for years.
However, she was still a woman. And, as a woman, she valued her personal space.
It was this logic that led to her grabbing the nearest object she could find -- one of Nash’s discarded boots -- and begin hitting him with it. Tense and alert despite her drunkenness, she continued hitting the blonde, seething and shouting in a hardly masculine way.
Nash reacted almost immediately, scrambling onto his elbows before being struck back down by his own boot. He cursed and rolled off of Albert, holding his head in pain and trying to protect his side from any other attacks. Albert scooted away immediately, holding her own head as it began to pound. “Latkje, what happened last night?!”
The Harmonian immediately did a double-take at the familiar voice, his eyes slowly going wide as he looked at the person sitting across the floor from him. Albert grimaced as she looked down at herself, dimly noting her missing coat and torn shirt amongst the light bruises and scratches. Thankfully, her pants were still intact, so it was highly unlikely anything of the sexual nature actually happened between them in their drunken stupor.
Of course, that did not alleviate the situation at all, and she threw Nash’s boot at him in frustration.
Nash lifted both arms to defend himself from the projectile, blinking several times at Albert’s … considerable amount of chest … in astonishment. “I should’ve known you were a girl… I’ve never had so much trouble with a man before!”
If Albert had not already been distracted by her disgruntlement, she would have stared at Nash incredulously. She picked herself up from the ground amidst complaining muscles and cracking bones, holding her shirt closed as she searched for her coat. For the most part, she seemed too preoccupied to completely absorb the repercussions of Nash’s discovery.
Nash, on the other hand, seemed to be focusing onto his discovery with avid shock. “All this time…” He shook his head slowly, entertaining other alternatives. “Or you could be a demon… Maybe a demon infiltrating Harmonia assuming Silverberg’s form…”
“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Albert muttered, finding her coat carelessly draped over her satchel of parchments. “It’s very unlikely that any demon functions on a high enough level of intelligence to mimic an educated human, save possibly something Yuber made himself.” Tugging on her long coat and holding it closed, she looked at the older man guardedly. “You do realize I have to kill you now, right?”
Blue eyes narrowed fractionally before relaxing. “Boy, if only that were the first time I’ve heard that from a moody woman… You can’t do that, Silverberg; your secret will be out faster than you can kill me, especially since there’s no way you can do the deed yourself.” He paused, thinking about his options at the moment. “Listen, it’s not a big deal… I mean, sure, you’re a girl… So what, right?”
“Don’t patronize me,” the young woman said sternly. “You know as well as I do that female officers are rare in Harmonia, much less foreign females. It was difficult enough getting here fighting one taboo.”
Nash’s left eye twitched slightly. “Ah… You’re one of those.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nash was very glad that Albert did not have his other boot to throw at him at that moment. “Ah, er… You’re like my aunt, in a way. Just taller.” He edged away just slightly. “… And more likely to kill me for that comparison.”
The look Albert was gave him was unreadable. “Trying to lighten the mood, are you?”
“…Am I failing?”
“Profoundly,” Albert replied with a roll of her eyes. “Latkje, I have no patience for your foolishness."