Chapter Text
The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 18th. Friday.
My dearest friend,
Letter after letter I have begun, and letter after letter I have discarded.
What words, after all, could begin to describe the feelings between us? Too great, the bond we have, to be conveyed through speech alone. And yet this is my only avenue to express such to you, my friend, for I can find no other way to contact you.
Do you remember me? That night, our eyes met, and I felt , like I have never felt before. The fire in you, the way you moved, everything. I felt alive , my friend. And I know you felt it too. The way you burned with passion, that translated into such grace! Truly, nothing could compare to the moment we shared, then.
But I would like to find out, my dearest friend. To see you once more, to experience the joy of your company, perhaps even closer than before…
“Fury, these letters are disturbing,” Estinien says aloud, shuddering. “This was not the sort of wake up call I needed this morning.”
“You’re telling me,” Lucia says, setting down her own letter. “Listen to this. ‘My dearest friend, I saw you once more today. The bagel you ate, the ferocity with which you attacked it! I would like so dearly to experience your passion once more.’”
Estinien frowns at the bagel, sitting on his own desk. It suddenly looks less appetising than before. He shoves it into the trash can by his desk, sending Lucia a dirty look. “Thank you for that.”
She simply shrugs, her eyes falling back to the page to continue reading. Estinien sighs and stretches, before standing. “I’m grabbing some coffee,” he says to Lucia. “Want me to grab you one?”
Lucia doesn’t even look up, just hands him her mug. He scowls at her, but with her attention on the letter, she doesn’t even notice. Estinien snatches her mug and heads off to the break room.
Thank the Fury for Gibrillont , he thinks to himself. With the late nights he’s been pulling recently, he doubts he could have made it through the day without coffee. He fills Lucia’s mug and his own from the travellers, and takes a moment to breathe to himself.
Alberic walks in, then, and Estinien’s hands clench around the mug. “Morning, Estinien,” Alberic says. Estinien just grunts and shifts out of the way of the coffee with a glare. Alberic grabs one of the paper cups. “Are you still mad at me?” the older man asks as he fills his cup.
“Take a fucking guess, Alberic. You took me off of my case, and then shut the whole investigation down.” Estinien’s knuckles are white. “Yeah, I’m still mad .”
Alberic sighs. “You know exactly why I took you off the case, Estinien. And why it’s on hold. I’m not going to risk your life—”
“No, just the lives of the people of Ishgard.” Estinien makes a disgusted noise. “The Brood’s not just being quiet because we dealt with a few key people. They’re planning something.”
“That’s your hunch, yes. We need evidence to act on anything, Estinien.”
Estinien slams his hand onto the counter. “I didn’t go undercover with the Brood just for you to decide I based this all on a hunch —”
Alberic cuts him off, his voice rising to match Estinien. “And I didn’t fish your body out of the Coerthas River just to risk any more of my people on this, Estinien! Running in headlong like this, this is how the Brood gets what they want. So the investigation is on hold until you either let go or we see some activity from them.”
Estinien swipes Lucia’s coffee off the counter and storms out of the break room. Alberic doesn’t follow him.
Fine , he thinks. I’ll just do it myself.
The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 18th. Friday.
Count Edmont is just as intimidating as Aymeric remembers from his childhood.
People have always underestimated the head of the Fortemps family, reading the kind smile and generally laissez faire attitude as an opportunity to steamroll. But Aymeric’s seen the man destroy too many political opponents, and knows better.
A servant sets a tray with tea in front of them, and departs with a bow. Edmont pours them both a cup, and picks up his own with practiced grace.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today, Count Edmont,” Aymeric says, taking a sip of his own tea.
“Of course, Detective.” Edmont is all smiles, but the edges of it are weary and betray more than the Count would likely enjoy. “I want this solved as fast as you do, I imagine.”
“Of course.” Aymeric nods. “Rest assured, sir, that I have my best people working on this.”
“Including yourself,” Edmont notes.
“Including myself.” Aymeric sets his tea down and picks up his notepad. “I understand that some of these questions may be distressing to you, sir, but the more information I have, the better.”
Edmont nods wearily. “Of course, Detective.”
Aymeric flips open his notepad and clicks his pen. “Did your son have any enemies?”
“None, as far as I knew.” Edmont still hasn’t touched his tea. “Haurchefant never mentioned any issues with anyone, at any rate. Pike would know better than I on that front, however. I doubt my son would have told me anything like that.”
Aymeric scribbles away. “And you, Count Edmont? Any enemies?”
“Not recently, no. I’ve relaxed my sharp tongue in my old age, you see, and much of the political dealings of my house have been passed to Artoirel.” Edmont sighs. “And there was no love lost between those two, unfortunately. Though they’d been getting along recently, thanks to Pike, I doubt that it would have placed a target on his back.”
“I see.” Aymeric takes a settling breath, excising the frustration welling within him. He hadn’t expected much, truthfully, but with his only lead looking to be some form of stalker who’s status they can’t even confirm, it’s hard to keep a clear mind. “Miss Skye mentioned that Mister L’oatel had a stalking incident, in Ul’dah. Has there been repeat incidents, to your knowledge? Anything that Mister L’oatel may not have known about?”
“You mean Zenos Galvus?” Edmont shakes his head. “You’d be best served asking Valliant about that, she handles all the security. He did receive some more letters, but I understand your team has those.”
So, more nothing. Aymeric grits his teeth against the tide of frustration that threatens to rise once more. He drains the rest of his tea in lieu of lashing out.
“Do you have any more questions for me, Detective?” Edmont asks, tiredly.
“Just to ask where I might find Miss Skye,” he says. “I believe my questions might be better served with her.”
Edmont nods. “In the yard, I believe. One of Pike’s wards, Alisiae, usually has her martial arts training at this time.”
“Mister L’oatel has wards?” Aymeric asks. He’s been reading up on Pike L’oatel, scouring articles for leads, and he hasn’t seen a single mention of that so far.
“Yes, two. Alisiae and Alphinaud Leveilleur.” Edmont smiles fondly. “Both quite bright and wonderful children. Pike has done his best to keep them out of the spotlight, and I hope that it can remain that way, Detective.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Aymeric says. The name “Leveilleur” sounds familiar to him, but he can’t quite place it at the current moment. “I can show myself to the yard, if you’re alright with that.”
Edmont gestures tiredly with one hand. “Of course, Detective.”
Aymeric exits the room and heads through the manor. It’s been a while since he’s been to the Fortemps manor, not since his childhood, but it’s not hard to look for the wide doors that lead out towards a precisely landscaped yard. He remembers being relegated out here while his father and Edmont discussed politics and whatever else, told to go play with Emmanellain. He never did, though, as he and Emmanellain never really meshed well, and instead he would roam the large garden, watching the birds and other animals go about their days.
Aymeric’s shaken from his reminiscence at the sight of Valliant and a young teenage girl battling it out in the wide open part of the yard. The girl, who must be the Alisiae that Edmont mentioned, sweeps Valliant’s legs from under her, and Valliant goes down, hard. Alisiae has her pinned in a moment, fist poised to strike. Valliant, however, flips her over, pressing a knee firmly into her back.
After a moment, Valliant releases her grip, and extends a hand down to Alisiae. “Good work, kiddo, but you’re still leaving yourself open during your pins. You’re too small to pin me with body mass alone.”
“I can’t help it,” Alisiae complains, taking Valliant’s hand and pulling herself up. “I’m used to having a—oh. Hello. Who are you?”
It takes Aymeric a second to realize she’s addressing him. “Detective Aymeric De Borel. I’m with the Ishgardian police department, investigating—”
“Lord Haurchefant’s murder,” Alisiae says. “Oh, you’re the
pretty
detective Pike mentioned. I see what he meant.”
Aymeric feels himself blush, and he looks off to the side. “I-I was the one who spoke with him that night, yes.”
“Lay off the man, Alisiae,” Valliant says, though she doesn’t sound too scolding. He gets the sense she enjoys his embarrassment. “What can we do for you, Detective?”
“Count Edmont told me that you would have information on any security incidents involving Mister L’oatel,” Aymeric explains. “I’m trying to establish if Zenos Galvus is a viable suspect.”
Valliant sighs. “Alisiae, go run through drills. Make sure you focus on your center.”
“But—”
“Now, Alisiae.” Valliant’s voice is firm and unyielding, and Alisiae pouts as she runs a decent distance off. “The kids don’t know about Zenos,” she says, turning to him. “And Pi-Mister L’oatel would like to keep it that way. They know someone broke into his room in Ul’dah, but we told them it was a simple robbery. Mister L’oatel doesn’t want to worry them. I think it’s a bad idea, but they’re his kids, so I don’t get to make that decision.”
“I see,” Aymeric says. “I’ll try to keep this brief, then. Have there been any incidents since you came to Ishgard?”
“No major ones, excluding Commander Greystone’s death, of course,” Valliant says. “To be expected, though. Zenos only broke in when we relaxed Pike’s detail during the Ul’dah shows. We were staying in the Sultana’s home, and she has her own guards. Clearly not as well trained as my men, but I didn’t know that at the time. We tightened security after the attack in Ul’dah.”
Aymeric notes that down, and he mulls over her words for a moment, before something she said registers with him. “No
major
incidents? So there have been minor ones?”
“...Yes,” Valliant says after a moment. “Pike has a habit of going out at night. And a bad habit of not telling anyone beforehand. Normally, it wouldn’t be so bad, he would just run into one of the team and let them know, so they could go with him, but he slipped past them. Haurchefant woke up, noticed he was gone, and we spent an hour trying to track him down, only for him to turn up saying he’d gone to Hilda’s.”
“So Mister L’oatel doesn’t have as much concern for his own safety, then?” Aymeric asks.
Valliant snorts. “He never has. He chafed at the increased security, said that Zenos was dealt with, so there’s nothing to worry about. As if that was my only concern.”
“What are your other concerns?”
“Well,” Valliant answers with a shrug. “If one fan could get to him, who’s to say another couldn’t? And...Ul’dah, the Sultana’s disappearance...it hurt him. They were really good friends. I keep expecting him to go charging off, looking for those responsible.”
Aymeric pauses. “He’d go looking for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? They’re practically a ghost story. I didn’t even believe they were real until they attacked Ul’dah. I doubt a pop star could track them down.”
“No, of course not,” Valliant says. She laughs a little. “It’s absurd to think about, right? And Pike knows better than to get involved with something like that.” She shifts uncomfortably. “Regardless, he hasn’t been out since that time without my knowledge.”
“Hm,” Aymeric says. He snaps his notepad closed. “Thank you for your time, Miss Skye.”
There’s a laugh in the distance, towards his right, and Aymeric looks over. He spots Pike, sitting in the outdoor patio, laughing with a white haired man. They’re sitting quite close together, and Pike’s holding a guitar.
“Who’s that?” He asks Valliant, who looks in the same direction as him.
“Thancred Waters,” she says, and she makes a face. “Pike’s bandmate. He’s the only one who could get permission to come to Ul’dah with us.”
“I take it you don’t care much for him?” Aymeric says, quirking a brow.
She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “He’s an incorrigible flirt, and then I have to chase off the adoring fans. It gives me a headache.”
Aymeric watches as Thancred tucks a piece of hair back from Pike’s face. “Are he and Mister L’oatel…”
Valliant looks at him sharply. “What? No, of course not. Pike was wholly devoted to Haurchefant. And Thancred’s a cad, but even he knows better than to shit where he eats.”
Aymeric nods. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to imply anything. They seem rather close, is all.”
“Yeah, yeah. They’re just close friends, Detective.” Valliant rolls her shoulders back. “Are we done? I’ve only got so long to work with Alisiae before she’s off to her tutors with her brother.”
“Yes, Miss Skye, I believe we are.” Aymeric extends a hand to her, and she shakes it firmly. “Thank you for your time, again, and if you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Valliant nods, and turns on her heel sharply, calling for Alisiae. Aymeric looks back over at Thancred and Pike, watching them with a shrewd eye.
The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 19th. Saturday.
“Detective Junius, there’s a call for you,” Vaincannet calls towards the bullpen. “Do you want me to transfer it?”
Lucia looks at the letters she’s been pouring over. “Yes, please,” she calls back.
The phone rings for a fraction of a second before she picks it up. “Detective Junius. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
“This is Marshall Pippin Tarupin of the Ul’dah police force,” a clear, even voice answers. “I understand you were calling about a...Zenos Galvus?”
“Finally,” Lucia mutters to herself. “Yes, I was. What can you tell me about him?”
“Not much more than you already know, I assume,” he says. “I understand that Pike has been living in Ishgard for a few months, now? Did he ask you to look into the case for him? You can assure him we have it well in hand.”
“No, Marshall,” Lucia says. “We were looking into a possible connection between him and a recent murder. Mister L’oatel’s husband.”
“...I see,” the Marshall replies. “I’m very sorry to hear that, I should make a note to call him—but I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m afraid it’s quite impossible that Zenos Galvus was responsible for his death.”
“I understand that Ul’dah has been under quite a bit of distress, recently, is it possible that—”
“Did Pike not tell you how we found Zenos?” There’s a hint of amusement in Pippin’s voice as he cuts her off. “That’s just like him. Let me walk you through what happened.”
The City of Ul’dah, Capital of the Sultanate of Thanalan. January 15th. Wednesday.
“Pike, are you certain you don’t want us to investigate this?” Pippin asks, holding a letter from Zenos in his hand. “I understand you can take care of yourselves, but this is—well. Beyond what you normally deal with.”
Pike rolls his eyes and holds his hand out for the letter. Pippin hands it over readily; he’s already made a few copies, just in case. “I’ll be fine , Pippin. He doesn’t know about the twins, so he clearly can’t get that close to me. I just wanted you to be aware so if any strange men start hanging around the palace, you’ll let me know.”
“I’ll let Valliant know,” Pippin says with a sly smirk, and Pike smacks him on the shoulder. Valliant, standing behind Pike as always, snorts. “Fine. But I’ll up the security in the palace, anyway.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Pike says with a wave of his hand. He pats Valliant on the arm. “Valliant’s working with your teams already, we’ll fill any holes, won’t we Vall?—and with the preparations for the gala, you’ll need the extra hands.”
Pippin sighs heavily. “You’re right, damn you. Still, be careful, alright? You’re too precious to be whacked by a nutjob.”
“What a way to go though, right? I’d make so many headlines, get all those true crime documentaries about me—you know, dying might make me more famous than ever.” Pike grins toothily.
“And leave your kids without a home, and your sister without a brother,” Pippin points out.
Pike scowls. “You’re no fun.” He looks at his watch. “Oh, stars, I’m late. Tell your father hello for me, darling, I don’t know if I’ll see him before the gala starts tomorrow.”
“I will. Take care, Pike.” Pippin waves to him as he practically dances out the door. Valliant lingers.
“Did you need something, Vall?” Pippin asks, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
“He’s being...extraordinarily naive,” Valliant says. “I don’t get it. When we dealt with Gaius—”
“That was a bit of a bigger deal,” Pippin says with a shrug. “You know how Pike is. He’ll fight tooth and nail to protect other people, and then forget about protecting himself. And stalker cases are messy. I’ve only dealt with a few, and it’s hard to catch them in the act. Especially with Pike’s public persona. Hopefully, he’s just an exuberant fan who’ll go away when he doesn’t get an answer. Or we can nail him on a B&E.”
“Still...I don’t know. You know he applied for CC permits for me and my team?” Valliant crosses her arms and looks out the door, where Pike is tapping away on his phone. “But then he goes and tells you not to look into it.”
“You know I’m looking into it, anyway,” Pippin says with a laugh. “I think he just has a hard time asking for help.”
“Maybe.” Valliant shrugs, and straightens. “Alright, I’ve got to get the diva off to his next appointment. It’s hair day.”
“Oh, good luck to you, then. You’ll need it.”
Valliant laughs as she departs, following Pike out the door.
“So Miss Skye had doubts?”
“Valliant’s always been the shrewd type. Don’t get me wrong, though, I think Pike was scared. He wasn’t even late to that appointment, you know? I think he just didn’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“I see. And after that?”
“Well…”
Pippin jolts from his sleep at the sound of his phone. Blearily, he reaches for it, hitting the answer button as he grabs it. “‘lo?” He mumbles.
“Hey, boss. Sorry to wake you,” Dancing Wolf replies. “There’s been an incident at the palace. With the pop star guy. Pike L’oatel?”
Pippin’s mind wakes fully in an instant, and he stands up. “What happened?”
“I...think you’d best come see. The bodyguard’s refusing to speak to anyone but you, anyway.”
“I’m on my way,” Pippin says, then he hangs up.
He dresses quickly, grabbing last night’s uniform off the ground, then races off, sirens blaring, towards the palace. He’s glad he chose the place closer to the palace, even with the sticker price that had come with it.
Less than five minutes sees him running up the steps, and he’s met with Dancing Wolf along the way. “I was the lead on shift tonight,” the broad man says. “When the caller mentioned it was the palace, it got directly escalated to me. I called you as soon as I got here.”
They divert into the guest wing of the palace, as fast as they can. Pippin curses his genetics for giving him the short end of the rope on height.
The cop standing at the door gives them a nod, and opens the door to the guest suite. He sees Valliant, sitting on one of the arm chairs with a stricken expression. She looks up when she hears the door open, and at the sight of Pippin, sags with relief.
Pippin’s at her side in an instant. “What happened?”
“He broke in,” she says, running a hand down her face. “The Brass Blades said they’d cover the exterior walls, so I focused my people on the interior. Zenos he—he slipped passed the Blades, and scaled the wall to the window. Pike...woke up with a gun to his head.”
“Is he…” Pippin feels his heart drop to his stomach.
Valliant nods to the bedroom door, which stands open just a crack. “He’s in there. Hasn’t moved an inch since it happened.”
Pippin lets out a sigh of relief. “Where is Zenos now?”
Dancing Wolf steps up. “He was carted out of here just before you arrived. Ambulance is en route to Ul’dah General.”
Pippin’s eyes widen, and he turns back to look at Valliant. Now, he notices the large bruise blossoming across one cheek, the blood faintly staining her knuckles, and he realizes. “Nald’thal take me,” Pippin mutters.
“I didn’t...he just wouldn’t go down, Pippin.” Valliant scrubs a hand over her face. “I couldn’t hold him, he was too strong so I—I kept hitting him, hoping he’d go out. He just kept laughing , Pippin. Like it was funny.”
“Dancing Wolf, go to Ul’dah General. Keep an eye on things.” Pippin says. Dancing Wolf nods, and salutes before heading out the door. “Valliant, if he dies, I don’t think...I don’t think we can claim self defense for this one.”
Valliant nods. “I know. I know. But...if he had hurt Pike, I don’t think I could forgive myself.”
Lucia has to take a deep breath before she’s able to respond. “So Zenos is still in the hospital, then?”
Aymeric steps out of his office, and Lucia waves him over, as Pippin responds. “It’s a bit more than that, I’m afraid. Since that night...he’s been in a coma.”
“I...see,” Lucia says. “Yes, that would make it hard to kill a man, I suppose. Thank you for your time, Marshall.”
“Of course, Detective. If you need anything else from me, this number is the best way to reach me.”
Lucia puts down the receiver slowly, and she looks up at Aymeric. He clearly caught the end of that conversation, like she intended, and she quickly fills him in on the rest. She watches the muscle in his jaw grow tighter and tighter as she speaks. "What now, sir?" she asks, after she's finished.
“Bring Valliant Skye in for questioning. There’s something going on here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”