Holding Secrets Like a Crystal Chapter 2
Read on AO3|FFN
Monica had thought that the rest of the actual Crownsguard would be like her trainers and the other trainees. But, aside from the double takes she’d received after she’d collapsed the training building with two strategically placed bombs, no one said anything about her being a woman.
If anything, the men admired her nerve. Not for what she thought.
“You actually like the Marshall, don’t you?” Dustin asked her. “He’s such a scary bastard though.”
Monica would probably share their opinion, but since she could in fact hear his thoughts and had known him since she was fifteen, she knew that Cor was a different. She couldn’t say why, but there was something about a man who took one look at a fifteen year old girl and knew that she was asking for help.
“He’s alright,” she replied, instead of saying all of that.
Dustin shook his head thinking, Wow she’s amazing. What he said was, “Kudos to you, Elshett. You have balls of steel.”
“Don’t have balls,” Monica said, just to hear him splutter.
Monica laughed at Dustin and after a moment, he laughed with her. She knew then that she’d found a friend.
.
.
Monica continued to work her way up.
She had good days and bad days, of course. Good days when the thoughts of people were manageable and could be tuned out. Bad days when she couldn’t even focus on work because of how fucking loud everything was.
She had medicine that she had prescribed herself after one doctor’s visit too many. It worked and she could function. Minimally.
The best days were when she could work with Cor.
From taking down criminals to doing paperwork, Cor’s mind was so quiet that Monica just. Relaxed. He was so incredibly soothing to work with.
Someone noticed and Monica found herself summoned to meet the king.
.
.
Monica had to work on keeping her face blank, no matter what she heard. Especially working in the Citadel, where everyone’s thoughts were incredibly confidential.
The king was older than her, older than Cor and there was white peppered in his hair. He face was also covered in laugh lines.
There she is! The king thought, his mind almost as quiet as Cor’s but not much. Nobody’s mind was as quiet as Cor’s.
“Your majesty,” she said, doing a deep bow.
She had seen the toll it took on him to keep the barrier up. She respected him immensely.
“Lieutenant Elshett,”the King greeted. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Monica felt her eyebrows rise an inch involuntarily. Given what she knew about Cor, she doubted that. Still, she didn’t say that to the kings face.
“Sire?” she asked, affecting confusion.
“Cor says you’re a pleasure to work with. How would you like to be Cor’s assistant?” he asked eagerly.
Monica had too much self-respect to immediately say yes.
“Isn’t that just another word for secretary, sire?” she asked warily
The king shook his head. “A secretary doesn’t fight. You would hold the office for Cor when he’s deployed in his special missions.”
For a king, his explanations sucked. “You want me to be his second,” she said. She didn’t gape. She wanted to.
It would be great if you married him, the king thought which, WHAT. “Yes,” the king said. “It would be a promotion.”
First, Monica had to slap that thought away from the king immediately.
Monica allowed herself to sigh. “Your majesty, if I may be blunt?” she said. When he nodded, she continued, “Everyone in the Crownsguard already knows I’m gunning for his second. If you assign it to me without due merit, there will be accusations of me sleeping with someone for the position.”
The very idea of sleeping with Cor made ice go up and down her spine. It was a terrible thought. Monica cursed the king for even thinking of it.
“Then you need to go on more missions for you to be assigned to it this year,” the king decided. “Your mission statistics and success rates are good, but there needs to be more…oomph.”
Monica felt that old spite rise up. Hmm.
If the king wanted oomph, she would give him oomph.
.
.
Monica asked Cor for permission.
It was one thing to think about it and plan it, but she wouldn’t inflict herself on someone if they didn’t want it.
“Sir. Cor,” she said when she found him in his office. “I’m going to be your second.” She announced it bluntly. It was better to rip these things off like a bandage than to dither and worry about it.
Cor nodded. “I had hoped you would. Hemminks is a good second, but he’s not...” he trailed off, and his mind added, He’s so fucking annoying.
“I’m going to need to go on a mission,” she said. “The king asked for more oomph.”
Cor’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “More oomph.” By Bahamut’s fucking asshole, Regis, what the fuck.
Monica felt herself smile viciously. “If he asks for more oomph, I will give it to him. With interest.”
Holy shit, this kid is exactly like me ten years ago. “There are several Niff bases in Duscae. One of which is a military supply depot. I’ll leave that to your discretion,” Cor sounded so dry and deadpan. Monica wanted to laugh.
“I’ll be back in a month or less,” she said. And by then, I will be your second, she thought giddily. “One last request, sir.”
He nodded.
“Can you sign whatever I requisition?”
Cor cracked a smile. “Do you even have to ask?”
Monica laughed on her way out.
.
.
As Crownsguard, she had access to a small bit of the kings magic. It manifested itself in different ways. Others had minor elemancy or the warping bullshit. Monica had an endless magical bag.
She loved it.
Monica stuffed it to the gills with bombs, more bombs and so many bombs. When that made the supplies department protest, she acquiesced and asked instead for the chemicals to make the bombs, which they had more of. Is she fucking insane was a recurring thought in their minds.
When she felt satisfied of that, she moved on to her favorite: knives. Five packs of throwing knives, two long knives, a sword and five different guns with a number of bullets.
Supplies looked just about ready to throw her out of the window when she declared she was done and Cor was just laughing as he signed off on her requisition.
Then he surprised her by handing the keys to his old motorcycle.
“I used to ride this all the time,” he explained. “But since I got old enough, I had responsibilities and passengers. This old bike is good for long distance missions.”
She hugged him in her jubilation and did a dance around the bike. When she’d controlled her giddiness over it, she saluted him and rode off.
.
Monica’s specialty, in her file, was demolitions. To her, it was just a fancy way for saying that she was very good with bombs.
If the king wanted oomph, she would give him so much oomph.
.
A month later, almost all of Niflheim’s bases in Lucis were on fire and rubble.
And Cor handed over her promotion with a longsuffering expression despite the glee echoing from his mind.
Dustin cornered her in her new office and asked, “Is it true that you told the king that you’d set fire to Niflheim if you could be Cor’s second?”
Was that what the rumors were saying?? Monica wondered where the hell that came from. But she didn’t question it.
“No,” she told Dustin, deliberately slowly. As though she was lying.
Dustin’s face was a picture.
.
.
Monica, despite all her efforts to appear underwhelming and ordinary, reached an overwhelming status all on her own as well.
She could hear all their thoughts whisper it and even if she wanted them all to stop, she couldn’t very well force them to stop thinking it. Monica, the guard who set fire to Niflheim bases in Lucis for Cor Leonis.
Still, working for Cor changed how they interacted, yet at the same time, not at all. Cor was still had quiet thoughts and was still the cause of most of her good days. And he still thought of her fondly even if they both interacted with each other professionally.
At the same time, it seemed that the king had waited for years for Cor to find a competent second. He started sending Cor out on more missions that kept him out of the Citadel for months. Once, it took a year.
Monica all but ran the Crownsguard in his absence then, even if she still had to turn to Clarus Amicita for some of the paperwork to be signed.
It made some of the guard bitter because she had only joined them in less than three years and had already risen so high. The bitter ones weren’t as many as she’d thought and maybe the king had a point.
Oomph really helped.
Ugh, she would never say it out loud, the king would hear and then he would be insufferably smug.
.
“Sir,” she greeted, very happy to see him alive. “Welcome back.”
Cor looked terrible, but she’d seen him worse states. She gestured and one guard ran for medical and another ran for the king. The others, she sent them to keep everyone away. It just wouldn’t do for the Marshall to be seen looking so bad; it would not look good for moral.
“Monica,” he sighed. His shoulders loosened minutely and Monica heard him think, Ah, she’s so grown up now. Which. What in the world?
“It’s good to be back,” he said quietly. “Anything interesting happen?”
“His highness has learned to warp to his favorite toy,” she informed him dryly. “It was in the roof. His majesty had kittens.”
Cor huffed a laugh. “I can imagine.” Regis, that was karma for being such a shit.
“One of the glaive has discovered the joy of elemancy,” Monica continued, noting that her nonsensical reports were actually doing wonders for calming him down. “She has then used it to cook a wild boar on a spit using lightning.”
Cor actually had to stop to laugh, his shoulders shaking. Unbidden, an image came to his mind and thus, she could see it as well. Of the king, younger, but using a fireball to cook a bird on a spit and the ensuing explosion of bird and charred wood.
Monica bit her tongue to hold back her own laughter. Gods, but she missed Cor.
“Was the glaive alright?” Cor asked after he’d calmed down. “Did she get hurt?”
Monica gave him a smirk. “She was fine. The boar was not.”
Cor laughed again.
His eyes, which had been dark with grief, finally lightened.
Monica watched him with hidden concern and did her best to keep him happy.
But his mind, which had been steadily growing louder for her, said one thing that made her worried. Prompto, I’m sorry.
Who…or what, was a Prompto?
