Chapter Text
Another day, another shift over. Hard to believe he'd only been doing this for three years already.
Braig closed the door to his bunk, leaning against it as he tiredly began removing the white gloves to his uniform, tossing them aside before he started working on the buttons of his deep blue jacket. He sat down on the bed and lazily began using one heel to try and drag the boot of the other foot off. When that didn't work he groaned and merely laid back, keeping his eyes closed as his legs ached.
"Braig! You back?"
The Captain of the Guard knocked on his door, where Braig then groaned back as his door opened.
There stood a tall, burly older woman, her dark blond hair pulled back into a ponytail as she popped a hand onto her hip. She chuckled at the younger man.
"That bad?" She asked with a smirk.
"No, just... tired."
"You young pups always being tired! You're just getting started boy!"
Braig groaned louder.
"Thanks, Lucinda."
Lucinda crossed her arms as Braig slowly sat up. She noted the bruises that were fresh on his gangly arms.
"You look like you had fun. You write any paperwork on any incidents today?"
Braig returned to releasing himself of his boots. "Yeah. I got notes."
"And?"
Braig looked up after kicking the first boot off.
"It was some 'old friends' of mine."
Lucinda bristled, her brow furrowed but out of concern.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Braig shrugged. "Nothin' to talk about. We bumped into each other, they saw my line of work, got in my face and I kept my cool about it. Is Aeleus on shift tonight?"
"Don't change the subject, Braig. What were they doing?"
"Nothing I could bust them for openly," Braig said, standing as he stepped into some slippers. "No harassment, no weapons. Nothing."
"You know them, Braig. There's always something going on."
"Yeah, but there's still laws, and I can't just jail 'em for what they're not doing. I know how it all works, and if I'd busted them on a hunch? We can't do that."
"... No, you're right. But if they hurt you-"
"I can take it. It's better than them doing it to someone else. Besides; I made my own point loud and clear," Braig said, showing off his bruised knuckles.
Lucinda nodded solemnly. "Well, I'm glad you're alright."
"I know how to handle those chumps. But so long as people are struggling in the outer perimeter, they'll take advantage of that. I'd like to talk to Ansem about it."
Lucinda nodded her head towards the hallway to beckon Braig outside of the room. He followed as he untucked his undershirt and they walked down the hall towards the kitchen.
"Whatever reports you wanna give to Ansem, you may want to consider doing so as soon as possible. Princess Oriana is coming back to the castle for a visit soon."
Braig scoffed in annoyance as they entered the kitchen and Lucinda rummaged through the fridge to pull out a large pot covered with rumpled aluminum foil. Her nose curled; the fridge was well past due a cleaning.
"What's Ansem waiting for?" Braig spat. "Haven't they already been engaged or whatever? Just marry the girl and stop with all these visits; they already cause too much ruckus in town."
"They're not engaged yet," Lucinda said, hefting the pot onto the stove; she removed the foil to look at how much stew was left over. Still half full. "There aren't any other royals, and Oriana is the eldest daughter of the queen. It's just... kind of a made match. But hopefully-" Lucinda stuck her lighter into the stove to ignite the flames- "they will get married and things can improve with two royals in Radiant Garden. Oriana already has quite the reputation on the other side."
Braig hummed as he pulled a ladle from one of the cupboards, handing it to Lucinda.
"Maybe we can get some more funding for a stove that works," Braig grinned. Lucinda's bellowing laugh echoed through the open window, where a cascade of crickets, rustling garden foliage and sparkling fountains livened the night air.
"You'd think! We DO technically live in the castle after all. But like I said: If you want it done, you'd better do it quick. If this ends up being the visit when he finally pops the question and then we have to deal with a royal wedding?"
Braig thought his eyes were going to roll out of his head. "I don't even WANT to think about the crowd control is gonna be like."
It was a headache, thinking about when Oriana would visit, and the crowds would be so excited. Ansem, already committed to his laboratory and pursuits of intelligence, was already a rarity to see in town, despite his kindness and gentle nature towards his people.
But with a looming royal wedding around the corner, each of Oriana's visits were becoming more and more of a hassle to contain the fervor of the excited masses. And, with the royals lost in their engagements and the royal guard distracted by keeping the peace, those running more unsavory operations were able to claim more victims.
Braig remembered all too well. He and his old group used to rely on Oriana's visits to squeeze a few more 'monetary opportunities' out of those who relied on the royal guard the most.
"We'll do the best we can," Lucinda cut through Braig's heavier memories. The stew was beginning to fill the kitchen with an enticing aroma, one that reminded Braig it was time to rest. He didn't have to rely on underhanded schemes to earn some money to survive. He was alive now, and safe. He added to the meal by toasting some thickly sliced bread and coating it with a garlic spread. He and Lucinda sat at the table, enjoying the sweet, cool spring breeze whispering through the window.
Lucinda dunked her bread into the broth of the stew. "Aeleus thinks he's found another candidate for the guard. Some guy named Dilan."
"Sign him up," Braig said immediately. "Sign him up, get him trained, get him out there."
Lucinda chuckled, "We can't just-"
"He's late for work already, come on, get him in here."
"I don't even know his skill set yet. Aeleus said he's strong, but that's all I know."
"At least we still have Yoan for a while, right?" Braig asked, looking up as he took another bite of stew. Lucinda, for once, had a shred of hopelessness in her face. Old Yoan had been serving alongside Lucinda for nearly two decades. He was a trove of information, of patience, and camaraderie.
He was also slowing down. A lot.
"Yoan is looking at retiring, and soon. Probably next year."
The news wasn't unexpected, but it was still a punch. Braig set his spoon down and ran his hands across his face, up through his black hair.
"So we're already understaffed AND we might not even be getting a replacement in before Yoan leaves. How are we supposed to-"
"I know, Braig. It's not great. But what else can we do? The job is open to anyone who will take it, but this is it. It's just us."
Braig was used to that. 'Just us'.
There was always 'Just us'.
He sighed, looking up at Lucinda. "Sorry; didn't mean to go off on you."
"No, no. I get it," Lucinda huffed, clunking her spoon into her now empty bowl. "It's not great. Especially when Ansem himself isn't intervening that there aren't enough people to protect him AND the city. But we can't force anyone to join. It's been relatively peaceful since Ansem's father's time-"
"Unless you live on the perimeter."
Lucinda seconded that statement silently with a gesture of her hand.
"I know you want to protect that area, Braig. But there aren't many of us to go around. I worry if you keep trying to intervene, something will happen where we can't help you," Lucinda said.
Braig stared back at her, mouth agape as he prepared to take a bite of stew. "So, what I'm just supposed to ignore them?"
"That's not it, Braig."
"I can't just-"
"You've paid your dues."
"I don't care about the dues, I care about the rats running around, picking up kids and forcing them into that kind of life, makin' them think that's all they have! Kids who don't know any better because no one bothered to give a lick about 'em!"
Lucinda was looking at one of those kids now. She closed her eyes before standing and picking up her bowl.
"You're right. It's not fair. But, please. I need you to think rationally."
Still pouting, Braig looked away, but he didn't argue. He heard Lucinda put her bowl away in the sink.
"Get some rest," Lucinda concluded. "We'll discuss it more in the morning. I need to talk to Yoan and Aeleus about a few things too. Alright?"
"... Yeah. Alright," Braig said, feeling his shoulder slouch as it felt as though he was deflating in defeat.
The bruising in his knuckles was suddenly much more painful.
Braig did his best to not spend the rest of his evening frustrated. There was still a sour pit in his stomach as he thought about his old crew getting up close and personal to him for the first time in three years and seeing him in his uniform. He could still hear the laughs and jeers as he ignored them, knowing it was pointless to say or do anything until they began exchanging punches, and he made sure they knew he wasn't there to be the helpless kid looking for scraps anymore. But it haunted him to know that they would never see him as anything but a traitor. The hardest part was knowing he could understand why they felt that way, and there was nothing he could do to improve the circumstances.
For now at least; perhaps he could squeeze in an audience with Ansem before Oriana arrived; when it mattered, Ansem was good about making something happen.
Still, for now the past and the pain with it was over. Braig washed the dishes, put the stew away and returned to his bunk, opening the window next to his bed to allow some needed airflow. He looked out towards his view of the kingdom, leaning on the windowpane to see that most of the town lights were out for the night. The streetlights lined the roads and boroughs, and he wondered were Yoan and Aeleus were patrolling tonight.
It was going to be another day tomorrow.
And there would be another after that.
And no matter what happened, he would still be wearing that uniform. For better or for worse.