Chapter Text
They’ve been seated for some time now. Tea sat untouched between them as he had gone into detail about the subject at hand. Dossiers of information stacked with blurred photos and statements sandwiched between each folder. Garden was thorough with their investigation. What had been a one-off comment about her husband’s political leanings had led to the opening of a can of worms no one had expected. She had cried on her hands and knees for forgiveness. For putting them in danger. She had offered to kill him as quickly as possible—
“Sit down.”
Yor cringed at his harsh tone. She looked up at the Shopkeeper, embarrassed by her actions and hastened thoughts. She knew her words meant nothing but she could not help but apologize for whatever would have to come next.
The Shopkeeper stilled in his wrought iron chair before turning ever so slightly to face large the expanse of trees around them. “He is an asset to WISE. In fact, he’s likely their most important asset.”
She had gotten up from her knees, eyes glassy from her tears. She sat back down in her chair. Face red from her outburst, she said, “An asset that important will surely cripple whatever operation they have ongoing if they were to be pruned.”
Shopkeeper closed his eyes momentarily before focusing on her and folded his hands together, “I am of the same mind that weeds must be pruned with utmost speed, lest we let the garden we’ve cultivated suffer. Especially if that weed has grown it’s roots wild. But there is another issue at hand.”
He bowed his head, contemplatively, before continuing, “When Donovan Desmond first rose to power, it was on the tails of Chapman’s failure as a Prime Minster. Instead of reversing his predecessor’s actions, Ostania delved deeper into war and depravity.”
Yor noted the distaste in his tone. While they did work with the Ostanian government from time to time, it was not their sole purpose to serve them nor were they their only contractors. Shopkeeper had told her that many years ago, with the same distaste she can hear now. Their government was not a moral compass to guide them— their government served the people in the same way they did.
Shopkeeper continued, “Their decisions at the time did not align with our core belief and Garden was purposefully excluded from many talks. Of course, our organization is resourceful, but there were still many holes in the information we gathered. Desmond is a very secretive figure. Since his party’s fall from power, he’s been quietly gathering support in order to regain his authority and he is operating in a way that even we are currently unable to determine.” A thin smile appeared on his face, “To send their best operative into the belly of the beast—WISE must be desperate for information the same way we are.”
Her stomach was turning in a wretched way. They way they had talked about Loid felt like intelligence prep she would usually get before an assignment. Shopkeeper had already denied her plea to kill him so— “If you will not give me the orders to kill him, what would you have me do?”
“Simply, you are to watch and guard him, Thorn Princess. That is your assignment.”
Yor inhaled deeply. Garden was not one to collaborate with others and yet the Shopkeeper was designating her as a bodyguard to this man. He believed in Loid that much?
Her silence must have become noticeable as the Shopkeeper began to explain more in depth, “WISE has kept it’s eyes on Ostania for many years. To keep Westalis safe is their goal the same way keeping Ostania safe is ours. A war would not benefit either of us in the grander perspective. Twilight is an exceptional agent but with enough digging, we were able to determine his identity. If someone from Desmond’s party were to do the same or the SSS, it could lead to his mission’s failure. Desmond is quite literally impenetrable. But, WISE seems to think they’ll be able to crack him. There’s a plot already in motion and I see no harm in leaving things as they are now.”
She should’ve realized something was wrong. She could laugh at how easily she had fallen for his cover, how easily she moved into his and Anya’s home. All this masquerading just to get close to one man? Yor’s mind was dizzy with questions. Was Anya even his real daughter? Has he been using both of them this whole time? Now, she was to use him. She had heard about this before. This type of relationship existed not only between humans but in nature too— “It’s like when a bee pollinates a flower. The flower isn’t harmed and the bee isn’t either. They both benefit. Garden gets it’s information and WISE gets to complete it’s mission.”
“Mutualism! You remember my teachings very well. Agent Twilight is known for his disguises and he is quite adept as a spy. Of the missions we presumed were connected to him, we noted his technique of information gathering which we realized made him extremely dangerous and also what made him so proficient. I am willing to gamble that even if he fails to make it to Desmond’s inner circle, he will at least get some useful information we can use to our advantage.”
The terrible feeling grows in her gut. A feeling she needs to repress if she plans on completing her assignment. She needs to focus on the task at hand. Shopkeeper had mentioned previous missions. There was a pattern they had recognized that she needed to know.
“What type of missions?” she asks. If she can understand more about his methods then she could be better at predicting his behavior. She could be better at guarding him and ensuring she completed her own task.
He paused for a moment. Afraid her question did not make sense, she repeated herself, “The types of missions Loid completes, you noticed a pattern. What was it?”
A heat settles heavily onto her skin when she notices the Shopkeeper’s gloves tighten around his sheers. They had been placed neatly next to his tea, next to the stacks of information he had forced her to go through. Yor did not sense malice entering the garden but the Shopkeeper’s grip seemed as though he was preparing for an attack. Yor grabbed the table in suspense. She had rarely seen the Shopkeeper angry. Whatever anger bloomed within him was usually exhaled gracefully in sharp words and stern commands.
“He…” A rhythmic cadence is broken when he falters and repeats himself, “He lies to others. Finds people close to his targets in order to gather intelligence.”
The terms are vague enough that Yor is unable to piece together his words. She’s frustrated by the ambiguity. She needs clarity. She needs to know his methods in order to counteract if needed. “How does he lie to them, Shopkeeper.”
He looks at her, pitifully, “My dear, Thorn Princess. A master at disguises, he’s had quite the success seducing wives, daughters and mistresses of powerful politicians.”
The table she’s been gripping cracks under her fingers. Its contents spills to the ground as she stands and tumbles back from the force of his words and falls to her knees yet again. The broken off ceramic slices her calloused palm but she is too occupied with her new reality. She wants to throw up that terribleness that’s settled within her. She’s crying again. Disrupting the peace in the Shopkeeper’s garden.
His clean gloves are bloodied when he grabs her hand. His eyes sharpen at the cut. “Come, let me bandage this wound.”
——————————————
Mr. Mcmahon accompanies her in silence on the hour long drive back to Berlint. She doesn’t need conversation though, not with all the thoughts running rampant through her mind. Yor makes a checklist of all her weapons and equipment. What she has and what she’s running low on. She would ask for more supplies when it was time to check-in with the Shopkeeper again.
Since their home was Twilight’s base of operations, she planned to go looking for whatever weapons or traps Twilight had set there. There were her own safety precautions in place too which felt a little redundant now. Maybe redundancy was good. Twilight seemed like the type of spy who would like that.
Or was it Loid who would like the redundancy? The extra level of preparedness was a trait she attached to her husband but now Yor wondered what was Twilight and what was part of his cover. She tried to separate the two:
Loid Forger as a good father and a brilliant doctor.
Twilight, the genius spy known for his disguises.
Loid Forger was very charismatic and she had given in to him easily. Despite no romantic involvement, it was as though he knew her intimately in a way that he had no right to. Yor would have to keep her guards up if she was to keep up the act of his wife. Now that she knew his true identity and how he went about his missions…
How he got his intel was up to him. All that mattered to her was the completion of his mission. Then they would never have to see each other again.
In a way, there was some relief in knowing it was an act. She had felt meager compared to him and all his perfectness. She found solace in knowing that those inadequacies had no basis as it came from comparing herself to an illusion. Still, his movements and mannerisms would have to be dissected and examined. Where did Loid Forger end and where did Twilight begin? Yor would have to figure that on her own.
She had only noticed they were at her apartment when the car came to a stop. Eyes hidden by the reflection in his glasses, Mr. Mcmahon faced her, “We’ll keep our eye on WISE. In the mean time, just focus your attention on Twilight. See if he keeps anything hidden in the house. Just be careful.”
She had nodded silently as she stepped out of the car. Before closing the passenger door, Mcmahon stopped her, “And Yor? You need to stay strong.”
Her words were stiff, “Yes, of course.”
With that, he drove away, leaving her alone on the quiet street.
——————————————
The light beneath their apartment door taunted her. Twilight was waiting, she’s sure. It’s a ritual they had become accustomed to where he would wait for her to come home so they could eat dinner together. It’s close to ten o’clock and she’s not prepared to face him. Part of her thinks of staying out longer. Maybe he would give up and go to sleep, allowing her to slip inside undisturbed.
A foolish thought.
She opens the door.
“Welcome home, Yor.” Loid smiled at her. It’s the same smile he’s given her before and yet it’s totally different. How many others has he given the same disarming smile to? She’s lightheaded when she looks at him and her body wants to give out from the sheer burden of it all. But she doesn’t. She’s been under worse circumstances.
“Sorry to have stayed out so late,” she forces out.
Loid leaves the kitchen to greet her. He tries to help her with her coat and bag but she insists on keeping them on her. “Oh. Um- It’s fine. Anya already ate but I can reheat some food and we can eat together.”
“That’s nice. If it’s okay, I’d like to just go to sleep.”
A look of concern grows on his face when he says, “You’re not hungry? You should really eat. Especially since you have work again tomorrow.”
“They gave me the day off.”
“Oh.”
Yor walks away, barely meeting his eyes and is almost to her room when she realizes she’s been too curt with him. He’ll be suspicious.
“Thank you, though. For making dinner.” Her mouth is dry.
“Of course. It’s what a good husband does.”
At that, Yor pressed her nails deep into the bandaged cut, reopening the wound. Blood slowly saturating the gauze Shopkeeper had placed.
No. She cannot kill him now. She needs to play this part. She’s never been good at lying. Good at acting other than herself. Shopkeeper knows this and that’s why he’s given her this impossible task.
“Good night, Loid.”
It's that same smile again.
“Good night, Yor.”