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“Did you read the latest edition of The Steambird this morning?”
“About those shady attorneys? I have!”
“They’re scrambling for scraps, even from the Fatui”
“What desperate fools, thinking they would actually get away with this?”
These were the words Monroe heard during his walk to work. The endless gossip, chatters between street merchants, even his own father brought it up at the breakfast table this morning. This can only mean one thing: Last night's mission went without a hitch. As much as he wanted to break into a smile, he can’t be half-assed to. He was going through a mental checklist of completed paperwork from the night before, and several others he still needed to have completed by this afternoon.
His thoughts were cut short when the voice of an elderly man caught his ear. “Monroe? Off to work so early, my boy?”.
He stops, catching his fedora and tilts it upwards. It was Mr. Beaufort, one of the many clockmakers in Fontaine, probably one of its oldest. He also happens to be a close friend of the Kingsman family.
“Good morning Mr. Beaufort. Yes, I’m afraid I am in a bit of a rush today”
“Nonsense, you can spare this old man a few minutes of your time to chat can’t you?”
He can, actually. But he promised himself he’d get to the office earlier than his usual hour. The young man clad in white and purple begins to stand more attentively, even giving the clockmaker the opportunity of seeing a smile emerge from his lips. “Now, how can I say no to that request?”
Mr. Beaufort gave a hearty laugh, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. I just wanted someone to talk with this morning about the news, my wife doesn’t exactly enjoy reading the papers”
“So you’ve seen the front page? About the crooked attorneys?”
“I have, and I can only imagine how angry a few of us folks would be”
Angry? Sure. But those in the business of upholding the law, they would have a more colorful choice of words other than angry. Monroe continues to listen.
“I can imagine our Archon is none too pleased with this headline either. I wonder if she’ll deal with this personally”
“I doubt it”, Monroe interjects, “True that Focalors is often present in court hearings, but I doubt even she would want to intervene in something as trivial as a few rotten eggs”.
The clockmaker was taken by surprise, but he still nodded not in approval, but with understanding. By the looks on his face, he was trying to think of something to change the subject. “How do you think they were arrested?”
“I believe the article said–”
“I know the article said the peacekeepers were anonymously sent a map, but I want to know who really made the arrest”
Curious old man, isn’t he? Monroe wondered if any passer-byers were going to start going off about justice and vigilantism again, it’s clearly being implied. But he gave a harmless shrug, “I really have no clue, Mr. Beaufort. I wish I did, but I’m no detective”
Mr. Beaufort gave a tired sigh, “I suppose that’s fair”, he looked to be trying to change the subject again; “By the way, how’s Oliver? I haven’t seen the lad in a long time. He’s almost as busy as you”.
Oliver Kingsman, youngest son of the Kingsman Household; one of the many influential families living in Fontaine. His father Gabriel, and older brother, Maxwell - are both seasoned attorneys with many years of experience under their belt, and to their credit they’ve built quite the empire for themselves. This would make sense for Oliver, however, law was not his first choice nor was it ever a choice. He was pressured into it, despite putting up a protest he would excel in his law studies and has now inherited his father’s law firm.
“He’s as busy as a bee, Mr. Beaufort. He’s been running back and forth for the last week, I only manage to catch glimpses of him in the office”, Monroe responds with a slight chuckle. “He’s not working this case, but I believe his older brother is working on it”.
The two exchange a brief moment of silence, only for a loud ‘kookoo~’ to cut through. He’d been dawdling long enough. “My apologies, Mr. Beaufort. I really must go now”; with a hearty handshake Monroe was off. The morning crowd began to emerge from their homes, but with a jog and some weaving, he would finally arrive at his destination. Sitting on an unseen border between the city and the suburbs stood a tall, pristine brick building painted an icy gray, with windows in unique bronze frames; shrubs decorate the outer premises like makeshift fences. The second floor slightly overarching above the doorway, a glass door covered by a soft beige curtain.
A brick red plaque sat above this doorway, bold texts painted in gold reading: Kingsman Law Firm. Nothing too fancy-looking, especially from the outside. You almost couldn’t tell this place belonged to the Kingsman Household. The chime of the front door bell was enough to alert the front desk of his arrival, a young lady was quick to exit her post and approached Monroe with eager yet mindful footsteps. Dressed head to toe in a typical Fontaine-style dress, black stockings and a pair of polished mary janes. “Good morning Mr. Monroe”, greets the young lady, her brunette ponytail swaying ever so slightly. “I trust you’ve had ample sleep last night?”
Head cocked to one side with an amused smile, “I wouldn’t say its ample sleep, but it lasted more than four hours”.
“You really shouldn’t joke about that Mr. Monroe, you know how Mr. Kingsman is about your health. Not to mention you drink an obscenely amount of coffee everyday, he’s worried that–”
“Samantha. If my husband wanted to air out his worry, he would do well to say it to my face, and not through my secretary”
Samantha gulps, “I-I’m aware. But he’s not the only person fretting about your sleep schedule, so do I”.
The sentiment was touching, but try asking a client if they cared about your sleep. They pay you to uphold justice, and that’s that. But what would he know; one day he was working behind a desk at his mother’s dress shop sewing clothes. Now he works behind a desk of a law firm because Oliver, for the life of him, was overworked and didn’t have time to scout out an assistant: so he, the son of a seamstress with a basic knowledge scholarship, was offered the job. He can’t exactly complain, the salary is pretty good.
“Speaking of Oliver, where is he?”, Monroe asks, ascending upstairs towards the office.
“He’s here, Mr. Monroe”
Oh good. He was actually going to catch his husband in person for once.
“But he’s already left”
Monroe nearly trips on the last step, catching himself and his fedora at the last second. Gee, so much for that morning kiss before the workload begins. “Are you serious? Again?!” Monroe snapped, catching his rising voice at the last minute. Samantha flinches. Monroe takes a deep breath, waits a couple seconds, and breathes out. “I’m sorry, I lost my temper”
“It’s okay Mr. Monroe, I understand you’re upset. But think of it this way, this is one of the few times Mr. Kingsman has been this occupied with a client”
That’s half true. There have been demanding clients in the past, depending on the severity of the case. He has no idea which client has Oliver ‘hostage’ right now but he can’t afford to be mad about it the entire day. Monroe fixes up his tie and continues his ascent towards the office, strolling past a short hallway where offices belonging to paralegals sat. Golden plaques of their name and profession decorate the polished oak wood door like a badge of honor, Monroe despises that hallway. He especially despises some of the paralegals that dwell in those offices. Let’s just say some of them aren’t too keen to see him, and he’s fine with that.
Pushing through the door, Monroe flips the light switch on, tossed his fedora onto the coat hanger, and spares Oliver’s desk a glance. It was definitely occupied, as there are scattered pieces of documents strewn about, the ink jar wasn’t screwed shut all the way down, his quill was completely dried up, and crumpled notes pile up in his bin nearly to the brim.
“Goodness me Oliver”, Monroe mused. “Married for a couple months, and you can’t even clean up after yourself”
One by one he collects and bundles and sorts, doing his best to make the work desk look untouched. Except for the ink stain from the quill, that will take a while to clean out. “He better thank me for this later”.
For the first half hour Monroe sat in peace with his papers, with outside ambience and ticking clock to keep him company. If he didn’t need to concentrate right now, he would love nothing more than to put on the record player and hum to one of his usual orchestral tunes. Samantha would come in not long after with his usual cup of coffee, which he thanked with a nod and slight smile. But as the hours drone on, he couldn’t help but think back to the night prior with the Fatui delegates and those attorneys. A lot of Snezhnayan agents he dealt with in the past would either be cowards or have their ego too far up their behinds – but that particular one was unusually cocky. He certainly wasn’t above bribing someone to get their ‘comrade’ out of jail time. What would a Fatui agent even be charged with? Disrupting the peace? Public disturbance by being their usual sunshine self? The list of possibilities goes on.
/knock knock/
“Who is it?”, Monroe inquires with a hint of boredom in his tone.
“Mr. Monroe? My name is Dimitri, I’m a lawyer from Snezhnaya. May I come in?”
A lawyer from Snezhnaya? Here? Oh this’ll be colorful. “Come in, Mr. Dimitri. But I should warn you first, Mr. Kingsman is unavailable to see you”
Entering through the door was a tall brunette man with fair skin wearing a pristinely trimmed suit walks in, carrying a rather expensive-looking briefcase; the way he carried himself Monroe could weep from the stench of pride coming off of this man. Or was it the cheap cologne he caked himself in? One could only guess.
“It’s quite alright, I’m actually not here to see Mr. Kingsman”
“Oh. Are you here to meet with one of our paralegals? I can always arrange an appointment for you”
Dimitri sat in the adjacent chair with the grace of a peacock, “I’m actually here to see you, Mr. Monroe”.
See him specifically? That’s new. Legal assistants don’t usually ‘see’ anyone unless clients are here to schedule appointments or be hounded by paralegals to go over their case files. Dimitri’s eyes were unusually locked onto him, like he was trying to read his mind. “I can see you’re a busy man, Mr. Monroe, so I’ll keep this brief”, he flips open his briefcase and slid today’s publication of The Steambird towards his desk.
“I take it you’ve seen today’s headlines”
“It’s all anyone is talking about, yes”
“That’s what I’m here to speak with you about, Mr. Monroe. Or should I refer to you by your alias?”
Monroe’s eyes widened, but only by a few inches. Was he done for? Does he still need to keep this act up? He was curious to see how things would play out if he were to play dumb, and that’s what he did. “Alias?” Monroe asks with a slight pitch in his tone, “I didn’t know I had an alias. This is quite surprising. I didn’t think I was that popular!”
Dimitri looked offended, “Don’t play games with me. I went to visit my men at the jailhouse, they told me about a man with a mask wearing your exact style fedora!”
“Mr. Dimitri, fedoras are an item of fashion in Fontaine. Are you saying I had something to do with the arrest last night simply because this so-called vigilante was wearing a fedora?”
You could almost see steam rupturing from the lawyer’s ears, Monroe couldn’t help but give a mischievous smirk. “I suggest you take your men’s description with a grain of salt, Mr. Dimitri. Those behind bars will usually say anything just to be free”. The lawyer shot up and slammed both hands on the table, almost with a crazed angry look on his face. “Do not attempt to play any mind games with me! My men would never–”
“Yet your men are the ones behind bars arrested with charges of bribery. And seeing as they were delegates from the region of the Cryo Archon, I can only imagine the Fatui will be paying a hefty fine along with losing a unit of their manpower for the next decade”
His smirk only grows wider. “I dare say, this does not bode well for any future relationships between Fontaine and Snezhnaya. Don’t you agree?”
Dimitri could not clench his teeth any tighter, if he came here looking to negotiate, any hope of that was thrown out the window. Monroe stood from his chair and leaned slightly towards the now peeved Snezhnayan lawyer. “If there’s nothing else, Mr. Dimitri, our conversation is hereby concluded. You may go”. You could almost hear a nerve snap, Dimitri snatches back the newspaper and hastily stuffs it back into his briefcase, he yanks the door open, and for a split second Monroe can see three Fatui Pyro agents on standby outside.
“This is not the last you see of me, Kingsman errand boy!”, and with that he slammed the door shut. Samantha enters five seconds later looking rightfully afraid, “Mr. Monroe, what in Teyvat was that all about? I could hear your guest from the front desk!”
“Mr. Dimitri is a Snezhnayan lawyer, and he came here to discuss a few things with me”
“A few things? It didn’t sound like a few things from where I was sitting”
“And you’d be right. Shut the door, I don’t want anyone overhearing”
Samantha obliged immediately, making sure to lock it for extra measures. Her hands were shivering, the poor thing looked like a squirrel that was startled out of a tree, she’s not used to seeing the brunt of these people. And for Monroe’s sake he hopes she never does. He ushers his secretary to an empty chair, “It would appears Mr. Dimitri might’ve figured out who put his men behind bars last night. It could compromise the Guild”
“Wait, does this mean– he’s figured out your identity? W-We need to inform Master Kingsman–”
“You’re really going to bother my father-in-law with a matter as trivial as this?”
“But he knows who you are, and Mr. Maxwell could be in danger for taking this case!”
“If I know my brother-in-law, he can take care of himself. He’s a capable attorney and doesn’t need any more pressure on his shoulders”. His Cryo Vision glowed in tandem, “Besides, if Dimitri decides to do something unsavory – I can simply freeze the fool and float him back to his motherland. That is, if he doesn’t thaw and drown first”
Samantha doesn’t look happy by his words, and why would she? Or could it simply be that she doesn’t want to resort to violence until the last resort. Sometimes her expressions are quite hard to read. “Relax Samantha, it’s a last resort sort of thing. For now, let’s have our people keep a close eye on Dimitri for his next move”
This time she nods with a smile, she always did prefer the less violent approach. “I’ll get in touch with our contacts as soon as possible, for now you should–”
“I know, I know. Get back to work and continue to drink my obscene amounts of coffee”, Monroe jested with a smirk, causing Samantha to roll her eyes and promptly left to return to her work. He can only pray no more Fatui barges through those doors, he’s had enough of their egos for one morning. Or worse, Oliver walks in and gives him a few choice words about ‘mishandling’ the situation with that peacock of a lawyer.
~~~
“Is he on the move?”
“He is. Dimitri just left the premises and now he’s rambling”
Two Guild of Thorn members were outside, Samantha kept true to her words. Keeping a sizable distance, they observe and listened to Dimitri being his true egotistical self, vowing to expose the Kingsman Law Firm and their ‘secrets’ to Focalors. “Are all Snezhnayan nuts, or is it just him?”
“We’ve seen nuttier. Now pipe down and follow 'em”
The three Pyro agents were on equally high alert, their large red and black cloaks and mask were enough to intimidate cityfolk to part ways for them to stroll through, it seemed Dimitri was heading somewhere private to run his mouth. And around this time of day the city’s fountain in front of the Court of Fontaine was especially private, not to mention the running water provided sufficient muffling. So much for eavesdropping from afar, the two Thorns needed to get much closer.
At that pristine moment, a carriage rode by. They can use it as cover to get close, if they get their timing right. Crouching to the ground, they waddle to the speed of the moving carriage as best they could. A bush was spotted, it was all too convenient. As the space between them shortened, they made the leap - the two Thorns now mere meters away from their target.
“What is our next move, Master Dimitri?”
“Our next move is obvious. We expose that Kingsman errand boy of his secrets, once the news hits it big – we spring our men from prison. By the time the heat dies down, that family will be in utter ruin; they’ll never even notice we’ve escaped”
“But the only description we have to go by is the fact that the vigilante wore a mask and purple faded fedora. No description of a build–”
“That’s enough out of you. I don’t need opinions from hired help, I pay you to get things done!”
The agent shrunk, “y-yes sir”
“Hmph. The Kingsman family think they’re so brilliant, sponsoring a vigilante organization. Even using their own errand boy as an agent to cover for them. They won’t be so powerful once we’ve knocked them and their accomplices down a peg!”. This doesn’t sound good.
“What do we do, we’re going to be exposed. I don’t wanna go to jail”, the younger Thorn panics.
“I’ll continue to listen in, you report back to Samantha. I’ll meet you there in two hours”
As quietly as possible, the young Thorn member waddles back behind the carriage and follows it as it rides off into a safer distance. He was running on pure nerves, nearly tripping over himself as he sprinted when the coast was cleared.
THUD
He felt himself crash into a large wall, or was it a large person. In a daze, he peers up and spots Oliver looking down at him worryingly. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Ah! M-Mr. Kingsman! Thank goodness– y-you need to come back to the law firm right away!”
“Whoa, okay. Slow down and breathe, I was on my way back anyhow. I was just grabbing lunch for Monroe”
The young Thorn looks down, his employer was indeed carrying a large lunch box as well as a small bouquet of flowers.
“Is that for Mr. Monroe too?”
Oliver felt his face go red from the heat, but nodded. “Y-Yeah. It is. Call it ‘an extra little something’ for leaving him alone for almost a week”.
The two sauntered back to the law firm together, it was nearly lunchtime and workers fled their place of employment looking for a bite. Pushing through the front door, Oliver is greeted by the sight of Samanta having her usual lunch order at her desk: a Satisfying Salad and Radish Veggie Soup. She nearly choked seeing him come in, “Goodness– Mr. Kingsman. Welcome back”, Samanta spoke with a fluster.
“Easy there Sammie. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. Is Monroe upstairs?”
“He hasn’t moved since this morning, actually”, Samantha replied. “Also, do be careful. I think he’s still upset with you”.
“It would be weird of him not to be upset with me”, Oliver chuckles nervously. “Wish me luck”, and began his ascent up the stairs. The closer he drew towards the door, the colder the atmosphere became. He can’t tell if this feeling was his imagination or the aura of his fiance’s Vision.
/knock knock/
No reply. Odd. Oliver tries knocking again.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to pretend to ignore you”
Oliver chuckles, turning the door knob wearing his best smile. “Afternoon my snow flurry, I bought lunch”
Monroe scoffs, “No amount of peace offering is going to stop me from pouting at you, Oliver”
“I’m aware. Which is why I also threw in a little something”. A beautiful bouquet was presented before him, wrapped in baby blue wrapping paper and held together with a salmon colored ribbon, an array of Cecelias and Glaze Lilies; his two favorite flowers. Unable to contain a smile, Monroe finally cracks. He puts his quill down and proceeds to embrace his beloved, “You are a cheeky one Ollie”.
The debonair attorney responds with a soft peck on the cheek, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around you much lately. Forgive me?”. Monroe retorts with a boop on the nose, “Feed me lunch and I just might”. As promised, the two bring lunch to their private rec room and enjoy a meal together. As they ate Oliver couldn't help but ponder aloud, “Roe dear, I ran into one of our Thorns earlier. He rushed me back to the office for some reason”.
Monroe swallows his bite before wiping his lips with a napkin.
“You will not believe how popular I became, a Snezhnayan lawyer walked into my office hoping to ‘expose’ me”
“Expose you? You mean to tell me, even under the cover of night, they managed to figure out who you were?”
“Hell no. His men assumed it was me simply because of my fedora”
Oliver paused, wheels in his head turning. “Try not to give yourself a headache dear, even I couldn’t believe what he uttered”. But his husband still remained lost in thought.
“Which reminds me, I still haven’t heard back from our contacts yet. I guess this means I get the satisfaction of regaling how the situation went down”
“Please, tell me you didn’t use any wisecracks”
Monroe looked almost proud, but Oliver’s face only got more serious. “Roe, you’re smirking”.
“Oh come now, it was too easy. This lawyer, Dimitri, thinks he can just waltz in here dangling my ‘exposure’ in hopes of me contacting Maxwell to drop the bribery case”, takes a sip of his coffee and continues, “And get this. He had three Pyro agents waiting outside in case I put up a fuss”
Oliver nearly spat his lunch, “Roe, you could’ve seriously gotten hurt!”. Sensing concern in his voice, Monroe reached over and took his husband’s hand into his; intertwining their fingers. “I know. I’m sorry I made light of the situation. But you know I can defend myself, right?”
“Yes I know you can defend yourself– for Archon’s sake you have a Vision! I shouldn’t be scared but–”
“But you still are, because the last thing you want on your conscience is me getting in over my head”. The attorney runs his hand against his beloved’s cheek, brushing away his hair. He looked Monroe in the eyes, and Monroe looked back, seeing distress. “I would never forgive myself if the Fatui hurt you. None of us would”. He leans his face into his husband’s hand, letting out a smile. “You big teddy bear”, Monroe swoons.
“Your big teddy bear”, Oliver added, kissing his beloved on the forehead.
“And what does my big teddy bear intend to do if Dimitri comes back with a vengeance? Are you going to swing that big sword of yours?”
Oliver couldn’t help but grin, “You know I’m getting better. Even if it’s just the basics”. Both bodies slowly lean towards one another, Monroe’s heart began to soar. He’s been waiting for a kiss all damn day and he wasn’t going to let anything get between him and his sugar. Or that’s what he thought.
“Mr. Kingsman! Mr. Monroe!”
The duo Thorns were banging on the front door, Monroe’s annoyance was identifiable by how brightly his eyes and Vision radiated, like he wanted to freeze the nearest warm body for interrupting his moment. He flew from his chair and threw the door open, “You’re going to break the door down. Come in and be quick about it!”. To help him cool off, Oliver volunteers to sit down with their two contacts while his darling freshened up in the office restroom. It was as Monroe informed him, Dimitri and his three goons did indeed come to ‘negotiate’, or at this point – ‘blackmail’. But why didn’t they directly go to Maxwell’s office in the city? Why come here and threaten a legal assistant? There were so many questions.
Monroe emerged just in time to hear the latter part of the report.
“It’s not just the blackmailing, Mr. Kingsman. They wanted to use your downfall as a way for them to break their men out of prison without getting public attention”
“They clearly gave this a lot of thought, if something scandalous involving one of the influential families in Fontaine, it would consume headlines for months. No one would pay attention to the jail break”
Oliver’s brows furrow and his nose crinkles, he’s furious but at the same time, formulating a strategy. “This would explain why they didn’t directly go after Maxwell, security would be tighter in the city. By coming here, directly to the family’s law firm, he’s trying to cut the power at the source”.
“Not like he was that intimidating. He couldn’t even keep a cool head after I started psyching him out”
Oliver’s gaze returns to his two contacts, “Is Dimitri still being monitored as we speak?”
“Yes sir. Our sources tell us Dimitri immediately returned to his hotel room and hasn’t moved since. His guards are outside his room at all times, it’s made monitoring difficult but we’ve yet to be spotted–”
“Good”, Monroe interrupts. “Guess this means I’ll be working late tonight”.
“Roe, no. At least bring backup with you-”
“Lysandre doesn’t need to see this, nor do I think he’ll want to stick around to see what’s about to happen”
A hand grabbed Monroe’s shoulder, tightly squeezing. Monroe is familiar with this grip, it was Oliver’s ‘don’t be reckless’ grab. He reciprocates the grab by gently pushing the hand away, his face dark and solemn. “I’m sick of playing it safe, Oliver. Dimitri knows too much, he needs to be dealt with”.
“Then tell me, how are you going to deal with him?”
Another smirk grew from ear to ear, it was almost malicious. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill that pathetic bastard. I’ll just drop by and ‘have a chat’..”
Nothing positive ever follows ‘having a chat’, but Oliver knows Monroe is difficult to stop when something is eating away at him. Though he never shows it, it can be quite frightening to imagine what his beloved planned to do that night.
He can only pray it won’t make the headlines the following morning.
~~~