Chapter Text
~
Lloyd Frontera is someone that Javier knows far more about than he’d like to. Fed with a gilded silver spoon since birth, he had the swagger of someone who had never known the concept of struggle. He lived a lazy and oblivious life, heavy-handedly swinging around his title like an iron mace. He drank taverns dry and somehow still left them bankrupt by dawn.
Spoiled, lazy, and arrogant. Javier has been shovelling shit in the wake of this man’s path since birth.
Innocently, as a child, Javier had never comprehended the concept of hate. He thought that every person had heart, but could be victim of circumstances. He of all people knew how easy it was to become bitter and jaded in the face of loss. Deep down, however, there must be goodness to find in all.
After years bearing the brunt of Lloyd’s cruel entertainment, watching him torment the villagers for his own sport, somewhere along the way, he finally changed Javier’s mind.
He hated Lloyd. Truly hated him.
Even so, he swore fealty to the baron and baroness, and by proxy, their son. They took him in as a child, thus, he shields Lloyd from his own careless antics as a way of repayment. Shielding them too. He saw the way Lloyd’s parents shared troubled glances as they watched Lloyd traipse around. He could see it in their eyes: What will we do about this cruel, cruel boy?
He doesn’t know either. He can only hope that the hands of fate will intervene before Lloyd’s penchant for cruelty grows even further. Perhaps a drunken trip through a puddle will one day end the making of this monster.
With luck, that day might be today. Lloyd has yet again went missing after another night in the tavern.
It is with immense disappointment that he finds Lloyd, alive, standing in the middle of the manor’s path into town.
“Master Lloyd,” he greets. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Let us return to the manor.”
Their eyes meet, and internally, he braces himself. Lloyd will certainly take the words as nagging and jump at his throat. It’s far too early for a temper tantrum…
… Which doesn’t come. “Master Lloyd,” he repeats, but the man only continues staring at him, as if through him.
Even for Lloyd, this is unusual. Sluggish as he is with a hangover, he is always quick on the tongue to snap at others. Has the alcohol finally seeped through his brain?
Suddenly Lloyd jolts upward. Javier tenses his stance but the punch never comes.
“I’m the hooligan?!” He demands. “Lloyd Frontera?!”
Javier blinks.
… Hooligan…?
“Well, it’s good that you are self-aware, at least,” he says. Now, he’s really going to get punched. Even so, he can’t help the smirk on his face.
It quickly drops when Lloyd only sends him a wide-eyed look, before stumbling past him back towards the manor.
Javier watches his back as they return. Lloyd walks hurriedly, off-kilter. The usual swagger of his wide steps and his snooty, perpetual frown are missing. Normally, Lloyd’s eyes lazily drifted around, tongue tasting the air like a snake, looking for the next poor miserable soul to pick out for his own fun.
“So, you have no idea how you ended up like that?” He asks as he tends to the fire.
Lloyd was shivering to the bone by the time they returned. He didn’t want to call a servant to light the fire, knowing that with the slightest change in the air, Lloyd might snap back to it and take his rage out on the nearest worker.
“You started drinking in the afternoon, got drunk, destroyed the pub furniture, and then you passed out on your way back to the manor.”
Lloyd only continued to stare at the floor. Even Javier’s thinly-veiled criticisms failed to provoke a reaction.
… Too quiet… He narrows his eyes suspiciously, but Lloyd continues to stare at the floor.
“I will leave you to rest, sir,” he says, turning to the door.
“Wait… Javier.”
“Yes, Master Lloyd?” He asks, turning.
“Our family… Has a lot of debt, don’t we?” Is that nervousness in Lloyd’s voice?
“What a strange thing to say…” He schools his expression and turns to leave, clicking the door shut behind him.
Family? Debt? Since when did Lloyd care about those things?
It was true that the Frontera family was quickly spiralling towards bankruptcy, a well-kept secret from all except the most trusted retainers. Their spending in the past decade had been unsustainable. Interest was piling up every year and the Baron was far too soft-hearted to increase taxes on his people.
It didn’t help that their eldest son threw money away faster than he threw back drink after drink in the pub. He could barely suppress his scoff. Now, after all his careless spending, Lloyd suddenly cared about his family and their finances?
“I beg you Lloyd, this time, go to the pub and apologise…” Marbella pleads.
No. Lloyd would never change, because he lacked the ability to ever recognize when he was wrong.
“Yes… Okay… I’ll do it.”
Wide-eyed, he watches Lloyd sheepishly rub at his head, meek as a sheep. Beside him, even Marbella cannot conceal her shock.
Something has seemed off since last night…
It’s as if Lloyd is a completely different person. He watches Lloyd walk into the tavern, on his own, to apologize. A half-assed, empty apology, but an apology nonetheless.
“Even when I apologized, he didn’t seem all that happy…”
Thankfully, Lloyd doesn’t see his scornful gaze. He knows Lloyd doesn’t actually care.
“That’s to be expected,” he states, watching Lloyd with narrow eyes. With a few pointed remarks, Lloyd will quickly drop this recent, silly whim of his to pretend that he cares.
“Everything you destroyed yesterday, his furniture and decorations… They were all purchased with the pub owner’s hard-earned money.”
Shock, but none of his indignation.
“Not only that, the pub owner’s mother is sick after the late winter cold.”
… Still nothing.
“Combine that with your misconduct, and you can imagine just how hard things must be for him.”
Lloyd freezes in his steps. There it is. Surely, the appeal for empathy towards a lowly commoner harmed by Lloyd’s actions will finally make him snap.
“Javier!” He whirls around. “Let’s go back to the pub.”
“And why is that?” He asks sharply. He meant for Lloyd’s anger to be directed at him, not for Lloyd to return and lash out at the pub owner once more.
“To get my first order!”
That couldn’t have been a smile on his face, Javier thinks, as he follows after him. There’s no way.
~
“Hey Javier.”
“Yes, Master Lloyd?”
“I really think you’re very good looking.”
Ah. Lloyd is trying to bait him and start an argument. Even as it makes him bristle, the normalcy of the behaviour is almost accompanied by a wave of relief.
“I know that already,” he responds. Better to remain neutral. He doesn’t want to aggravate Lloyd to the point of storming back to the manor. A part of him is quite curious about the rolls of paper tucked under Lloyd’s arm. Less so the contents, and more-so the suggestion that Lloyd has clung onto this idea of his for more than 2 hours.
“So you’ll be the purchaser, and I’ll be the builder. We’ll write off all construction fees against all of the property I damaged.”
The pub owner clearly feels as skeptical as him, and Javier readies to jump in. If he doesn’t play along with this game of Lloyd’s, Javier will ensure he is safe.
“Well?” Lloyd snaps.
Here we go. Those eyes, that that curl of the lip--
“You’ve made the right choice, sir! I won’t let you down!”
--That smile?
“Master Lloyd.”
“Yes?”
Enough of these games. “You threatened the pub owner to sign that contract. Are you coming up with new ways to cause trouble?
Lloyd’s face remains… Not unreadable, but perplexing. As of late, Lloyd has been perplexing for every second of the day.
“You’re not as reasonable as you seem. Have you ever heard of cognitive distortion?”
“Cognitive distortion…?” He asks, reeling.
Lloyd Frontera calling him unreasonable. He always looked down on Javier, but this is a new angle. He’s predicting Lloyd’s behaviour, because time and time again, Lloyd has shown himself that he has never cared for the well-being of others.
“I’ll make them smile. The pub owner and his mother, I’ll make them smile for sure.”
Then the unthinkable happens: Lloyd Frontera picks up a shovel and starts digging.
Digging dirt. Scooping sopping wet clay into a wagon. Wood-working.
“That didn’t take long,” he says, touching the wall to test if it will vanish beneath his fingers. Surely it was magic, a vision conjured or an act of the gods.
“It took a week!” Lloyd shouts indignantly. A week indeed. The toils of his labour are obvious. His clothing is soiled with dirt and sweat. His skin tanning at the back of his hands and neck from all the hours he’s spend in the sun. Javier can barely believe he’s looking at the same person.
It was unbelievable that Lloyd knew how to do any of this. Even more unbelievable that Lloyd had gotten his hands dirty, and worked hard at something. Hard enough that his sheer exhaustion was obvious at a glance.
“Ugh, I’m so sore…” Lloyd was staggering on his feet, currently making a sorry attempt to cut wood with hands that were already shaking with the effort to lift his axe. He could tell that as soon as Lloyd lifted that axe above his head, he would tip over and fall.
A week ago, he would have found that funny. He still thinks it would be quite funny.
Lloyd wobbles again, tottering backwards dangerously with the axe slipping from his grip.
… Fine.
Javier steps forward and catches him before he can fall, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to steady him. The other catches the axe before it can slip from Lloyd’s grip.
He didn’t expect to get so close… He grabbed Lloyd’s hand by accident instead of the axe. They’re barely an inch away, and Lloyd has to look up at him from this angle. For the first time his expression looks almost doe-eyed, guileless.
Lloyd doesn’t flinch away or yell at Javier for daring to lay a hand on him. He must be truly exhausted. His skin burns through his shirt where it contacts Javier’s shoulder.
He’s been staring too long.
“What do you need me to do?” He asks, taking the axe and stepping back. It’s still warm from Lloyd’s over-heated fingers.
“Uhh…” Lloyd blinks blearily. “I need thin little pieces of wood, like this,” he says, gesturing.
He’s not helping because he cares. It’s simply too pitiful to watch Lloyd struggle to do something that Javier can manage easily as breathing. It’s too weird. If Lloyd is fixed on this, then he’ll help speed up this whole ordeal so that the farce will finish and Lloyd will go back to normal.
“Javier…” He feels that same warm hand on his shoulder.
When was the last time that Lloyd touched him in such a friendly gesture? Has he ever laid a hand on Javier other than to throw fists and let out his pent-up rage?
“When you’re done, why don’t you help me with the digging?”
Instantly, his bemusement turns into exasperation. He’s giving more work to do?!
“You’re helping because you’re curious, aren’t you?” Lloyd leans into his space, and he bristles at the arrogance twisting Lloyd’s face once more. Clearly, he wasn’t tired enough to stop being insufferable. In fact, it seems the opportunity to annoy Javier has given him a second wind.
“This man is clearly out to con them, how will he do it?”
He does want to know. Even so, when he plays along and grabs a shovel, he’s still shocked when Lloyd jumps in the dirt with him and starts digging beside him. He’s acting like a completely different person for this con, whatever it is.
The con to… Make the pub owner and his mother smile. Just as he said.
There’s no way that Lloyd Frontera would ever do such a thing… And yet somehow, it happened.
“I know what you’re thinking. Wow, this guy isn’t total garbage after all.”
Lloyd has recently gained the uncanny ability to read his mind.
“Nope.”
“I think you are.”
“I am not.”
Such strange behaviour, he wonders, for what?
Lloyd’s intentions remained unclear, but as he watched him heckle citizens from his make-shift stall, he realised that this newest game of Lloyd’s had only begun.
~
Lloyd Frontera was keeping busy indeed, as many orders came in for his supposed invention of Ondol Floor.
There was morbid curiosity from watching Lloyd take orders and smile at bewildered citizens, reeling them in with the same enthusiasm of any swindler in a market square. After the eighth order, however, even Javier had memorised his sales pitch. The novelty was quickly fading into boredom.
It seemed like Lloyd was keeping occupied enough to stop himself from dying in a hole, so Javier resumed his usual placement in the manor.
It’s peaceful… He realises. When was the last time that Lloyd threw a tantrum? He hasn’t even seen the man drink a single pint of ale recently.
Of course, that is when the debt collectors arrive.
“Wait outside, Javier,” the Baron says, fists gripped tightly to the frame of his desk.
Javier bites his tongue and leaves, ignoring the smug smiles of their visitors. They weren’t intimidated by him to begin with. They knew the Baron would never cause them harm, no matter how much they disrespected and extorted him.
“—Cat got your tongue?! I bet if you sold some of the items in this place, you’ll get some money!”
The Baron is too kind. Javier admired his kindness, but he hates the way others jump to take advantage of it like dogs snapping at a bone.
He hears footsteps approach, and turns to see Lloyd coming down the hallway.
“Master Lloyd,” he greets. He thought the man would have left the manor by now to work on his construction projects. Perhaps that talk with the Baron this morning made him change his plans.
Lloyd’s eyes curiously hover over the closed door to the Baron’s office. There’s no concealing the cocky, derisive voices coming from within.
“—If you sell the baroness and her ladies to a very… nice place, they would fetch a hefty sum.”
Javier grips tightly to the hilt of his sword, but he knows the order will not come. The Baron will let those sharks sling their words around and peacock, and with the threat of the Frontera’s debt, the Baron will not retaliate.
“Hm. How ‘bout that?” Lloyd turns to him and grins, all teeth.
“Don’t,” he warns. He didn’t like it either, but Lloyd always took trouble in like a sponge and spat out ten times more in return.
Lloyd claps a hand onto his shoulder. “I’ll handle this.”
Javier shuts his eyes and sighs as Lloyd swings the door open.
“Hey. Just because you’re a lender, don’t mean you have to lack manners, does it?”
Stay at your post, he thinks. The Baron will call for him once Lloyd loses his temper and starts his antics up. He can only hope he can intervene in time to do damage control for the sake of the Baron, as well as the manor’s prized furniture.
Wait… What is--
“The Royal family and nobility act, article 3, clause 6, all nobles may exercise—”
Since when did Lloyd familiarise himself with the laws of the kingdom? Let alone know to recite them like the back of his hand?
“—Let’s go find out together. Javier!”
Now’s his chance. He enters to find the two debt collectors tense on their feet. After all their bluster earlier, now, they go pale when they see him.
“Yes, Master Lloyd?”
“Cut off this trespasser’s arm.”
There’s naked, sadistic glee on Lloyd’s face. The debt collectors tremble down to the bone with the order. Javier forces his face to stay expressionless. He shouldn’t be encouraging this, but he has to admit, it is satisfying seeing how they cower with every step he takes towards them.
“Like I said, let’s go find out…”
He draws his sword, slowly, and watches them turn tail and run without a glance back.
“Tsk, how absurd,” Lloyd says beside him, pleased as a cat who got the canary.
“Lloyd--! Javier… What did you just do?! We don’t have enough to stave them off!”
Javier doesn’t have an answer. That was a reckless stunt, and even worse, he went along with Lloyd’s antics of intimidation and violence to help pull it off.
Lloyd steps forward and hefts a large sac onto the desk. It makes a metallic heavy clunk. It couldn’t possibly be--
“—This should be enough to cover a big part of this month’s interest.”
“Money from orders? You’re taking money from our people?! Extorting—”
“Fear not, my lord.” He steps forward.
He is loyal to the Frontera family. Today, Lloyd… helped… his family, in his own violent, perplexing way. Thus, he owes a debt to Lloyd.
“I will ensure that Master Lloyd fulfils the orders.”
He didn’t even need to, but it lets them leave the Baron’s study. He hasn’t doubted Lloyd’s ability to follow through since the first house was built, not since he saw Lloyd’s reaction to the pub-owner and his mother’s smile.
What he did still question, however, was: “How did you know about such as law? I always thought you were the ignorant type.”
There’s that tell-tale sign of irritation on Lloyd’s face, but the way he turns his nose up at Javier is still vastly diminished from his usual flame. It had been so long since he saw Lloyd’s blood-thirsty nature come out, he almost forgot how it twisted those facial features like thorns. Seeing it directed at the debt collectors, however...
He allows Lloyd to dodge the question and watches him swagger away.
Only then, does he let his lips twitch into the faintest smirk.
Sometimes, when directed at those who deserved it… Lloyd’s antics were quite fun.
~
“So you will duel Sir Neumann in one month’s time,” Javier states with exasperation. “Are you confident that you can win?”
“What~! Are you dumb?! Of course not!” This absolute ass-- “What do you think? Were you even thinking? Are you even thinking--?” Then, Lloyd takes a break to shove his finger up his nose.
Javier sighs. No matter how perplexing Lloyd’s recent turn of leaf was, he was forever consistent in his ability to be insufferable. A lesser knight would behead him where he sat.
Is this also deliberate? He wonders. Provoking Sir Neumann as soon as Javier’s back was turned. Now, he’s provoking Javier for something, but what? An early grave?
“So, Sir Javier,” he says, with an innocently pleasant tone. “Teach me how to use a sword.”
“I refuse.”
Lloyd can have his Ondol Floors and other fancies, but he’s not putting a sword in this man’s hand. Lloyd is still far too arrogant if he thinks one recent good deed for the citizens erases all his previous torment.
“—If scum like you… Excuse me, human trash—”
Lloyd doesn’t rise to his bait, which irritates him more. If Lloyd behaved like a child, then he would have all the more reason to refuse.
He used to hide his disdain well, but lately, Lloyd’s let him get away with being increasingly loose-lipped. It’s infuriating. He thought that by now, which how plainly rude his comments have been, that Lloyd would finally break. Now however, he can only hope that there is no one around to overhear them when Javier talks back. The Baron would have a shock if he heard how Javier talked to his son recently.
“Even if teaching me how to use a sword means that I’m going to cure your insomnia?”
That smirk--! How does he know about that?
“So do we have a deal or not? It’s no use pretending.”
“Fine,” Javier says, only because of his curiosity. There was no way that Lloyd would succeed.
That night, he has the most restful sleep that he’s ever had.
“50 laps around the perimeter. Go.”
A deal’s a deal, but he doubts Lloyd will keep interest. Even with Lloyd’s recent manual labour, 50 laps will take him until dusk. Lloyd can certainly try to call his bluff, but if he kicks his feet and complains, then Javier can simply say he doesn’t have what it takes.
Lloyd runs. Then keeps running, throwing his smug grin every time he passes Javier no matter how much his chest heaves with exertion. Even when the sun sets, Lloyd runs in haggard steps past him, unwavering.
This man… Fuelled by spite, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Lloyd would run himself to the brink of death just to prove Javier wrong.
If you are so determined, then I will teach you my sword fighting techniques.
“You’ve been at the construction site all day,” Javier remarks, as he watches Lloyd struggle through yet another push-up. “Don’t think you can slack on evening training because of that.”
“Wasn’t—” Lloyd grits out. “Planning on it, Sir Javier.”
Only Lloyd could address him by his title and still sound patronising. He considers stepping one foot onto Lloyd’s back to add some weight, then restrains himself.
“Enough,” he says, and watches Lloyd collapse to the ground with a huff. “Grab your sword.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
It’s been two weeks so far. Lloyd has kept to his training diligently, and more surprisingly, without complaint. He’s made significant bounds in the short time they had.
“Go through your forms,” Javier says, leaning back to observe him.
Lloyd’s swordsmanship is… acceptable. He took to it faster than Javier expected, albeit clumsily.
“It’s a sword, not an axe, nor a spear,” he says, stepping forward. “It’s meant for duelling. It will break if you treat it like that.”
“Hm, this?” Lloyd says, adjusting. Up closer, Javier can see how his brows are furrowed in concentraiton.
“Like this,” he says, correcting Lloyd’s hands. “Shoulders,” he reminds, grabbing them.
“You’re handsy,” Lloyd says, turning to him with a smirk.
“Shoulders,” Javier repeats, jerking him back into stance.
This has been tolerable. With Lloyd’s training as an excuse, he’s been largely relieved of all his other duties. At first, Javier dreaded spending hours upon hours stuck with him, but Lloyd is a surprisingly good student.
His training has also been an excellent opportunity for Javier to review the basics himself. If he’s aiming to be a Master, then a strong understanding of the foundations is essential.
They’ve since made a comfortable routine of working in silence. Sometimes, they’ll even trade quick insults back and forth, with no heat, but a strange familiarity that still feels alien to Javier.
If he keeps this up… There might be a chance.
~
A solid iron shovel…
Beside him, he sees the Baron cover his face with his hands. Around them, the crowds are boisterous with their laughter, their faces full of amusement as Lloyd walks onto the field.
No one here is taking Lloyd seriously, except for Javier.
After all, they made a deal that Javier would teach him swordsmanship, and Lloyd’s performance today is the test of that. Although Lloyd is lacking in true combat experience, Javier’s witnessed his training first-hand. As his teacher, Javier must have faith in him.
Then he sees the shit-eating grin barely contained by the borders of Lloyd’s face as he admires his new shovel, and sighs.
No one here is taking Lloyd seriously, including himself.
The fight is on. Lloyd blocks one attack, and the crowd swells with confusion. Then another.
Even Javier blinks. Those blocks were fast, clean. He wields the shovel with a deep-set stance, looking more confident than he ever did when holding his sword in practice.
He didn’t teach Lloyd how to do that… Or that, he thinks tiredly, watching Lloyd jump around with his feet locked to the shovel’s head. What on earth is he doing?
He’s winning. Sir Neuman can clearly tell too. Javier watches him set his shoulders and breathe deeply, the telltale sign of a knight activating Manaheart.
He watches Lloyd grind his feet into the dirt, steadfast, his face locked in deep determination, and knows that Lloyd’s victory is set in stone.
The Asrahan Core technique, executed flawlessly in one sweeping counter-attack. Sir Neuman hits the ground, and Lloyd raises his shovel-- Wait?!
“Lloyd! What are you doing?! The duel is over--!”
That devil-like grin…
Thankfully, people are too shocked to notice how Javier’s shoulders shake with his laughter.
“Lloyd!”
~