Why can't Perrault train guards/work for the army. He is the First Sword of the Kingdom.
It doesn't matter? Really?
Can Prince (and the army) afford losing such a great solider? Even in our times we need capable people in our countries armies. Come on!
So Prince just wanted to put Perrault under pressure? Yes, probably.
Because without that Perrault would never choose to become Master Spy? Yes, probably.
So Prince manipulates his so-called friends?
But when Perrault disaccords can't Prince let him work for an army?
I don't know if any of this makes sense anymore. I just have a strong feeling that this whole situation is unfair and there are ways to prevent Perrault from being heartbroken.
a prompt of Cinders returning back to high society for a visit after running away with Perrault after hearing about Sophia becoming Prince Basile's future queen?
The palace looked the same. Tall and straight, so many lights in the central courtyard they dimmed the stars themselves, the endless murmur of conversations carrying through the air, too many different people to make out a single word or voice.
She didn’t have an invitation.
Again.
Sneaking in, wearing a borrowed dress, breath tight in her chest as she wondered what would happen.
All the same.
Gloves caught on hers, fine leather against pale silk, and her breath escaped in a sigh, a smile easing the tension between her shoulders.
Everything was different.
Today was about Sophia, and Basile. Not her.
Not this time.
This time, she could just celebrate, for them.
Perrault lifted her hand, and she could feel the warmth of his breath even through her gloves, and his eyes were smiling as he kissed her, just behind her knuckles.
She had company, this time, and neither of them wore a mask.
Neither of them would ever need to wear a mask again.
I really do need to play that again, if only in prep for Solstice, and maybe actually trying to write that Ghede & Cinders' Parents maybe prequel that was in my head a year ago.
The important thing when writing Sophia is to try not to be smart and fail miserably.
The important thing when writing Basile is to have an almost hesitation right before plunging right into something, because he's not quite convinced he's as smart or as strong as he thinks he needs to be, but once he decides to go for something he goes.
(And depending on how you play the game, it's imminently possible to convince him he's not anyone in particular, and have him fail at all his reforms. Poor man.)
Also it helps to remember they're both very pretty. Everything in Cinders is pretty.
when or if I started shipping it. When she was honest with him at the ball, and he expressed dismay after she left.
my thoughts: If I have a Cinders OTP, this is it.
What makes me happy about them: Basile is looking for a queen who is intelligent and forthright, and once Sophia becomes friendly with Cinders, she more than fits that bill.
What makes me sad about them: The fact that nothing ever happens with them in canon.
things done in art/fic that annoys me: The fact that there isn't enough of it! Also I really think it would take a lot of persuasion before Sophia would agree to be queen.
things I look for in art/fic: Gradual realization on Sophia's part that Basile is really, truly interested in her, and that she is worthy of his interest.
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Basile/Cinders is all right. I don't really ship Sophia with anyone else.
My happily ever after for them: Sophia is queen and gets to move in to the castle with its fantastic library.
what is their favorite non-sexual activity? Reading, and arguing about the books they've read.
Cinders/Perrault, inspired by the second full prompt on this post. (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty).
---
"Thank you again for having us, my lord." Cinders curtseyed to Prince Basile, who took her hand for a formal kiss. "It is always an honor to be invited to the palace."
"And it is always my pleasure for you to attend." The prince released her hand, then smiled at Perrault. "And you as well, my friend."
He met her eye with a small, calm nod that betrayed no reaction, then pulled out a chair for her at the prince's left hand before going around the table to sit across from her. The prince settled into his own seat and lifted his glass, looking first to Cinders, then to Perrault. "A toast," he said, "to a bountiful summer and to continued associations with old friends."
"Hear, hear, my lord." Cinders leaned forward to touch her glass to theirs and then drank. Perrault followed suit, but she noted that he took only a quick sip before setting the goblet down.
"So." The prince swirled the glass in his hand, then leaned over to face Perrault. "I trust you have had some time to consider our previous conversation?"
"I have." Perrault's hand tightened around the stem of his goblet, his knuckles turning just a shade whiter. "Thank you, my lord, for the offer. I appreciate that you would find me to be of use to your court, even after all that has happened. But--" He glanced at Cinders, who widened her eyes and willed him to continue. "At their core, the reasons I retired from your service are unchanged. So I fear I must say no, yet again, and hope that you think no less of me for doing so."
Basile shook his head; Cinders thought he almost looked relieved. "Not at all. I understand your reasoning, and if you still feel you can do more good elsewhere, then I leave you to it, with my blessing." He raised an eyebrow. "But have you found occupation elsewhere?"
Perrault lifted his eyes to Cinders with a small smile. "Yes, my lord. I do believe that I have."
Though he did not look at Cinders, she thought she saw the prince's eyes flick in her direction, and warming movement to his smile. "Good. Well, now that's out of the way, shall we continue with our meal? I want more of your thoughts on the conversation we were having last night about the treaties I am considering."
-x-
By the time they finished dinner, made their farewells to the prince, and left the palace, night had fully fallen and a crisp breeze whisked through the gardens -- summer would be turning to autumn soon enough. Cinders cinched her cloak around her neck and took a step closer to Perrault, hooking her hand around his elbow. He glanced down at her and smiled. "That was a pleasant dinner."
She smiled back. "It was, wasn't it? Prince Basile is an excellent host."
"Second finest in the kingdom." Cinders chuckled at the implied compliment, and they continued down the path that wound from the palace towards the town, walking in comfortable silence for some minutes. When they reached the outskirts, Cinders paused, waiting to make the turn onto the road that lead toward his bording house, but Perrault kept walking in the direction of the forest.
"You don't want to stay over?" Cinders glanced up, checking the stars. "It's a little late."
Perrault shook his head. "I'd rather just get home to the manor," he said. "The forest should be safe enough, especially for two of us together."
It took a few moments more of walking for Cinders to register what Perrault had said; when it finally sunk in, she stopped dead and let go of his arm, turning to face him. "Home?"
"To the manor," Perrault repeated, his expression blank, the enormity of what he had just said clearly passing him by. "Unless you don't want to make the walk."
Cinders reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. "I would walk anywhere with you, but especially home." And she leaned forward and kissed him, her mouth firm against his, her heart leaping with happiness. "Home," she murmured again, and she tucked her chin into the hollow of his neck as he brought his arm around her waist.
"Yes," he said, turning to lean his cheek against the top of her head, wonder coming into his voice as the realization dawned on him. "I... I suppose it has been, hasn't it? Two rooms that I only visit to sleep don't make much of a home. But more importantly, you aren't there." He burrowed more closely into her hair and sighed. "I should have let myself realize that earlier."
"What matters is that you know now." Cinders stepped back enough to look up at him, and he smiled down at her as she reached up to brush the hair out of his face. "So are you ready to come home and start a new life?"
"I'm ready." And he leaned down to capture her mouth in a kiss, full of wonder and hope and promise.
Cinders/Perrault, inspired by the second full prompt on this post. (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen).
---
That night found a few dozen guests wandering about the house and gardens, representing a typical mix for one of Cinders's famous dinner parties: scholars and artists from all around the kingdom, a smattering of local merchants and nobility, Prince Basile holding court in the small gazebo at the far end of the garden, Gloria surrounded by admirers on the porch. Meanwhile, Carmosa and Sophia managed the servers and supervised the kitchen, respectively, which freed up Cinders to mingle, chat with her guests, and drop in on whatever conversation caught her fancy. The scene felt so familiar, the universe realigning itself into the patterns it had known before, as if the last three months had never happened, slipping away like a bad dream -- but for Perrault's absence.
But she was a gracious hostess, and burdening her guests with her problems would be equally selfish. So she continued her walk through the house and gardens, doing more listening than talking, politely deflecting questions about Perrault and his condition until she reached the prince, who deserved a more through answer and would not have accepted a brush-off regardless. The half-dozen people crowded around him parted as she approached him with a curtsey; he took her hand and bowed over it with a genteel kiss. "My prince. You grace this house with your presence."
"Thank you for inviting me," he replied. He drew her hand through the crook of his elbow, and she allowed him to lead her out of the gazebo and into a quieter corner of the garden, a bit away from the other guests. The others took the hint and dispersed; the prince watched them go with a curl of his upper lip, which mellowed into a friendly smile as he moved to face her. "Is Sophia about?"
"Hiding in the kitchen, as usual." Cinders indicated the manor by tilting her head. "You know she hates these things. She'll emerge when it's time to eat." Prince Basile chuckled, and Cinders smiled briefly before continuing. "But I'm glad to get you alone -- I wish to speak with you about Perrault."
"Yes." The prince's expression grew serious as he continued. "I called him to the palace some days ago. We had a good chat, but I have not heard from him since. How is he?"
Cinders lowered her eyes. "Physically recovered, as much as he will ever be. Adjusting to his new circumstance is another question entirely."
"Well." Basile lifted his chin. "I suppose I could just ask him myself."
"That's what I intend to discuss with you: further summons to the palace." Cinders took a deep breath, considering whether to continue. She had a good relationship with the prince and considered him a friend, but she was still his subject. Was she presuming too much?
"No, I meant right now. Although I suppose it would be an awkward conversation to have amidst a party." Prince Basile gestured over Cinders's shoulder toward the garden gate, and she turned around; she managed not to gape, but only barely. For there, walking into the yard, was Perrault, just as she had kept imagining him, but here, real. He was dressed in a fine white shirt and his second-best coat, looking more pressed and dapper than Cinders had seen him in weeks, and he lifted his chin and met her eyes with a half-smile.
"Excuse me, my prince." Without stopping to see how her barely-adequate apology, had been received, she left Prince Basile and strode across the gardens to her love, hands outstretched, heedless of the soft murmuring that followed in her wake.
"Hello," Perrault said, taking her right hand to brush it across his lips, lingering just long enough to send a tingling into her toes.
"Hello." She couldn't move, her eyes boring into his. "I thought-- you said--"
He squeezed her hand and let it go. "I changed my mind. Shall we talk later?"
"Of course." Cinders almost blushed; of course he would not want to have this conversation in front of guests. There would be time to puzzle out his presence later. For now, she would simply be glad to have him by her side. "Can I get you anything?"
Perrault shook his head. "I'm fine. It looks as though dinner is nearly ready, anyhow."
Cinders looked up and noted the servers bringing out platters of food, Carmosa ushering guests to their seats. "Indeed. Would you accompany me, sir?"
Perrault took her offered arm, left fingers curling around her right elbow. "My lady, I would be honored."
