Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a warm night. Montague frowned. It never was this warm up here. He noticed how the snow didn’t quite have the strong crunch it usually did, and everything seemed to glitter with the damper of melted ice.

The trees were whisking in the breeze lazily as though controlled by a particularly fatigued puppeteer. The moon was raised into the sky, drawing its white claws of moonbeam down across the star-speckled sky. Lifting his head, Montague could draw out the swirls of purple and blue mixed into the expanse of black. He narrowed his eyes as a particularly loungeful burst of wind brushed against his pale skin. The clouds were few and far between. Snow was not forthcoming.

The path to Lavish Lair was quite unguarded, shockingly. The few guards Montague did see, though, were on high alert. He saw the holstered guns. He couldn’t contain a thin smirk as the closest one flicked their hand towards it, only to halt as he recognized the leader of the Society. He dipped his head, keeping his silence, in respect. Montague nodded.

His shoes hit the ground with quiet clicks. The stone path was familiar underfoot. The massive mansion Oscar owned loomed in front of him. He didn’t pause his stride as he rose the stairs. Lifting his gloved hand, he knocked harshly at the door.

“Ouvre la porte, Oscar!” He called out in his French accent, settling back. He spoke softly to himself, muttering under his stilted breath, as the door swung open.

It wasn’t Oscar, but rather Nisha, that opened the door. The two looked at each other in faint surprise, Montague cocking his head and raising an eyebrow.

“Really, Nisha?” Montague purred, settling his weight onto his left leg. He checked his watch, amusement flickering in his mix-matched eyes. “I thought you were… On simpler tastes. I also thought you were positioned back in Fencing Fields.”

Nisha seemed to bristle at his words, looking uncharacteristically aggressive. Her gray eyes glittered as she leaned back. “It’s not like that,” she hissed softly. Montague chuckled as he realized how much the prickly woman reminded him of a poised python. His mirth was seemingly unappreciated as it only made Nisha ruffle.

“Plans change. It’s simply business,” She said coldly, looking into Montague’s eyes with the coldness of her eyes, gray chips of ice. She turned, stretching the door wider. “Are you coming in?” She asked, her voice refusing to melt.

Montague smirked. He dipped his head to Nisha and walked inside. As she shut the door with a quiet slam, he basked in the warmth of a fireplace that exulted from the closest room to the right.

“Nisha? Who was that?” Oscar had poked his head out of the room. The Society leader took quick note of his galvanized fur, ruffled and bristling in places, and the way his ears pressed against the back of his head. His yellow-gray eyes landed on Montague and a frown creased his lips.

“Oh. You. Come in here,” Oscar hissed, drawing himself back. For a single moment, Nisha and Montague were left alone in the entrance room.

Montague looked at Nisha out of the corner of his eye. “Ladies first,” He rumbled softly, extending a hand towards the side room. Nisha scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, and stalked inside. He wasn’t imagining the tensed rise of her muscles, the anxious way her eyes darted around.

Montague found it quite amusing. He stood in the entrance room, his eyebrows slightly raised, amusement glittering within his blue and brown eyes. Mulling his thoughts over for a few more moments, he followed.

The room was warm from the fire brewing controlled within the fireplace. It was a circular room, below the large spire that Oscar had constructed for Valeria. A couch was pulled off to the side, while two comfortable arm chairs had been drawn up into the center in front of a coffee table, which oddly had two cups of tea set upon it. Lining the walls were bookshelves with books on any subject. Astrology, planets, history, anything you could ponder could be found here. Montague remembered Valeria’s excitement, her face glowing with excitement, as Oscar had presented it to her. He remembered the days he had sat in here with her, reading patiently alongside each other.

“That’s quite a smile on your face for such circumstances,” Oscar growled. Montague flickered back to reality, narrowing his eyes. He watched in silence as the muscular tiger settled into the further armchair. Nisha settled upon her own, flicking a hand towards the couch.

Montague walked to the couch and settled into it. He felt oddly out of place in what had used to be the place he used to visit every other week. Maybe it was because of Nisha and Oscar’s distance from him, and closeness towards each other. He remembered the youthful days he would share with each of them, a bond only the closest of friends would ever achieve.

He shook his head, barring away the thoughts. He tapped his fingers together, feeling their kinetic energy pulse for a singular moment. His amulet seemed shockingly cold around his warm neck.

“So? Why did you come here?” Oscar prodded after a few moments, raising his head. He had grabbed one of the cups on the coffee table and took a sip. He was surprisingly dainty with his licks for a tiger. Montague watched for a few moments before responding, keeping his eyes attentive.

“I wanted to discuss with you, particularly, the route we’re taking next. I hadn’t taken into account Nisha’s presence, as I thought you two had stopped this certain communication route.” He kept his voice light, airy, but his words precise. It had the exact effect he desired. Both Oscar and Nisha squirmed uncomfortably, embarrassed by his highlight of their closeness. “Let’s take in account you’ve both been lying to me and Valeria about this, unless it all emerged within the past hour?”

Montague chuckled. It amused him a faint bit seeing them wiggle. “Care to explain this? I’m not mad, I have no reason to be, just quite frankly confused.”

Oscar growled softly. Montague watched his fur bristle, his tail lash. Narrowing his eyes, he felt his fingertips relish in the familiar icy feeling of diamond covering. Just in case, he didn’t believe Oscar would lunge at such a faint remark, but lately he didn’t know much of what to make of him. It seemed like they had gone from something akin to brothers to something more so preferred to close enemies. He let the silence linger for a moment before turning his eyes to Nisha, raising an eyebrow.

The fencer reached a hand over, gently resting it upon Oscar’s forearm. He settled almost instantly, giving her a mellow look. He licked his chops, whiskers twitching, before he looked down at the small cup in his hands.

“It’s complicated.” He spoke in a cold voice that Montague recognized all too readily lately. The voice that asked for no more questions and often ended in a drawn gun and unsheathed claws.

Anger issues. Montague wondered why he had never taken that into account before inviting the tiger into the Society. Look at where it had gotten him, he pondered. With a faint smile, Montague pressed himself against the back of the couch. “Ah. So that means end of discussion, nothing else spoken? How ruly of you, Oscar.”

He watched him twitch, his muzzle drawn back into a faint snarl at the prospect of the prodding Montague was giving. It amused him dimly, but it was starting to fade, especially as Nisha seemed to stare right through him, past his remarks.

“Nisha, leave. Me and Oscar need to discuss something.” Montague purred silkily, crossing his legs. “I’m sure you can go relax in the bedroom he has set up for you here, unless he’s invited you into his very own.”

“Montague, enough,” Nisha snapped, rising suddenly. “Me and Oscar’s relationship is nothing you need to be bothered with as long as we do our jobs. You may be our leader, but to be frank, you are not our friend.” Her voice was a feverous hiss, dampered with only the least amount of respect possible to avoid further punishment. She tilted her head. Montague narrowed his eyes. Anymore, anyhow, was his answer.

Oscar gave a rough grunt, shaking his head. “Let me talk to him, Nisha. I can handle this.” He leaned into his armchair. With a scoff, rolling her eyes, she stepped out of the room. Montague was quiet, listening for her footsteps as she walked away.
Oscar’s voice drew his attention back to what mattered. “Well, Montague, this better be worth it.” The cat looked at his paw, of which he roughly unsheathed his claws. Each claw was outfitted akin to a blade, sharp and able to rip through skin like paper. Montague winced as he remembered. A reminder of more favorable times, anyhow, as Montague subconsciously felt aware of several scars lining his back and shoulders.

“Worth it? I think so.” Montague leaned forward. He stepped up and slowly walked over to the armchair beside Oscar. He watched those glinting eyes, unpredictable with every glare. He chuckled and sat down, melting the diamond upon his fingertips away. Montague knew Oscar saw, because he saw the fear widen ever so slightly. He wondered if Oscar really knew how much danger he possibly could be in if the time stuck right. With a frown, Montague continued with a soft voice, “And I think you know so too, why this is worth it and why I’m here in the first place.”

Oscar twitched. Years of watching his movements taught Montague lots of things. He knew when Oscar was uneasy. He could tell when he was lying, and as Oscar opened his mouth, Montague knew how this meeting would go.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Oscar’s voice was low. He seemed to be trying to keep his famous temper within check. His tail lashed and his ears flicked. “So let’s make this snappy.”

There was silence. Montague stayed silent. He looked at Oscar until the tomcat looked away. He kept staring until his colleague finally let out a low, rumbling, growl. “If this is about Valeria-”

“It is. Glad you came to that conclusion.” Montague cut Oscar off as quickly as he had started. Leaning up, tapping his fingers together in the familiar tic, he smiled. “This is exactly what this is all about, and I want answers.”

Oscar hissed, swallowing back a retort it seemed like, as he took a final sip of his tea. Slamming the cup upon the coffee table, the bristling tabby tiger gave a soft snarl. “I don’t have any answers. If you want answers, Nisha’s the one to ask-”

“And Nisha will have been spoon fed lies to tell me that you’ve instructed.” Montague continued over Oscar’s rambling. “Nisha won’t tell me anything, so that’s why I’m asking you.” He raised his head, feeling his smile start to slip. This was infuriating the second he stepped within the door. Oscar fell quiet. The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace. The warmth felt more so like a wax covering now, his skin crackly and rough. Montague let out a faint hiss.

He raised a hand, leaning his head against it. With an abrupt silence, Oscar watched him.

“Oscar, I would like to know what you’ve told her, and what exactly is going on. I don’t appreciate being lied to.” Montague purred. “Now, I’m not mad, I just want to know what's going on. Tell me, please.”

It was quiet. Oscar rose up from his chair, eyes narrowed. Those claws glinted in the warm light. He kept his jaws firmly shut.

Montague chuckled. He got to his own feet, dusting off his coat. “Really? Do you forget how much power I hold over you? Do you forget I could have exiled you just as quickly as I invited you in?”

With a sneer, Montague turned his head away abruptly. “But I guess I should have expected less from an Undergrounder.”

He turned. He was going to leave. But he saw an orange blur from the corner of his eye.

It was instant. The gun sounded with a loud crack the second Montague’s gut feelings kicked in. He was diamond within a millisecond, the bullet falling to the ground. At first, he thought he hadn’t been hit. Then he felt his body numb on the left side.

Montague looked at his arm. It was cracked, a thin and silvery liquid dripped out slowly. The diamond looked glittery. He would have felt sick if he didn’t look up to distract himself. Oscar stood there, gun in his paws, his eyes cold and furious, yet filled with a throttling fear. Fear as he just now realized what he did.

“That could have been… A lot worse,” Montague murmured, lowering his arm. The silvery liquid dripped onto the hardwood floors. It was barely anything, but he knew the second he returned to his normal form he would need medical attention. He shook himself, grunting. Montague felt as though he should feel angry. Feel something. Something other than the shock and hesitation he did now.

“Get out,” Oscar snarled. His voice was filled with venom. Terror lined it like the sun lined the clouds. For a moment, silence reverberated within the room. Silence that was only interrupted by a quiet drip of silver diamondblood onto the floor.
Montague tilted his head. He raised his arm to check the “wound” once more, noticing Oscar flinch, the gun still pointed firmly at Montague’s chest.

Montague slowly let the diamond fade from his face and upper body. He felt cold to the touch. He wondered if his eyes showed his emotions the way his pounding heart did.

Montague turned away. Nisha had rushed down, probably hearing the shot. Her eyes were wide with fear and horror as she noticed Montague’s diamond form encasing his forearms and legs, and moreso as she saw the crack dripping with that odd liquid.
“Nisha, I’ll see you another day,” Montague purred warmly towards the fencer, dipping his head respectfully to her as he pushed past. He walked towards the door, opening it, and stepped out.

He shut the door with a click behind him. Only then did he allow himself to look down at his arm and feel the bright fear that was there as he realized he wasn’t as invulnerable as he believed, and the anxiety that compelled him to realize how Oscar’s and his relationship would never be the same.