Chapter Text
Time: 21:45
Place: Somewhere in Silvernia
It had taken him — or rather, him and his connections—
He really ought to start giving them proper recognition, seeing as they'd become his confidants much as his late sister had remained one within his mental palace.
No matter. Hugin grimaced beneath the shadow of his top hat's brim as he tore through the street at full speed. Gas lamps smeared ribbons of gold across the slick cobblestones beneath his boots, merging with the burning gold of the setting sun, and through that haze of light his clear blue eyes, with the sharp crimson of his irises, pierced through, fixed on the man weaving desperately ahead of him, who kept throwing glances over his shoulder only to yelp, flinch, and somehow wring another burst of speed from his legs.
Blast it! Was he a Reacto user too? The thought was illogical — such individuals were a rarity among ordinary folk — but Hugin was in no state to examine such a clear flaw in his own deduction. He exhaled sharply through clenched teeth, the cold air turning white before his face, and forced his aching legs to move faster, refusing to lose ground to the wretched rat.
The request to this case had come from a wealthy madam who had all but won him over with the flash of glittering silver ounces before he had properly heard her explanation. By the time she began explaining anything, he had already accepted.
It was nothing the officers at the Constabulary couldn't have handled, if he was honest, but given the woman's standing within Silvernia's upper circles, it was hardly surprising she had sought more discreet methods in dealing with her itsy bitsy issue.
An affair complicated by an unfortunate fondness for recording one's indiscretions on film could become troublesome very quickly, especially when one party might be driven by shame or simple greed.
Whatever the reason here, the woman's lover had begun demanding a considerable sum in exchange for his silence, threatening to spread the contents of the film across every gossiping tongue in Silvernia, and she wanted the city's (in)famous detective to recover the reel before that could happen and destroy it.
It had sounded mundane enough. On any other day, Hugin would have found some excuse to turn the lady away and return the coin simply for her carelessness in letting emotion dictate her choices. But with the Cinderella case on hold and his own personal investigation that had dragged him back to this cursed city remaining hopelessly stalled — He had been bored.
So, two days and several hours later, the trail had led him to the lover's associate — a journalist. The very man now sprinting through Silvernia's backstreets with remarkable vigour.
Hugin released a quiet groan as he watched the man with raised arms suddenly turned and disappeared into the black mouth of an alleyway. Digging his boots into the wet stone, he dropped, catching himself on his gloved hand and slid against the ground to steady his momentum before launching himself after him the moment he faced the alley.
How is he holding up better than I am?! he wondered astounded, breath coming in ragged puffs that trailed behind him, his left shoulder cape snapping violently in the rushing wind, whilst the raven feathers pinned to his top hat long since flattened against the speed of his pursuit.
Three years away from active duty, combined with the luxury of relying almost exclusively upon his Silverium steed, should explain more than enough about his dwindling stamina.
No wonder a mere journalist has better endurance than me, huh. Closing his eyes for a single stride, Hugin drew a deep breath that burned cold down his throat before opening them again. The crimson within his irises sharpened on the fleeting man just as he surged forward, closing more of the distance between them.
They burst into a small clearing enclosed by towering stone buildings. Tended patches of greenery broke apart the otherwise orderly architecture, forming what was no doubt an intricate pattern from above. Hugin spared the surroundings only a fleeting glance — his attention instead fixed on the fleeing man, whose path was already carrying him towards another alleyway — one he was almost certain would split into several routes deeper within the district.
He clicked his tongue. He was far enough from innocent bystanders now that he didn’t hesitate to move his hand towards the pistol at his hip — only for his body to freeze in that exact moment, every muscle locked on memory as a familiar flash of ruby ignited at the edge of his vision to his left, followed by a crack like thunder splitting the air.
Pure instinct moved him before his mind had finished processing the disturbance.
He spun towards the sound, extending his right arm behind himself, a silver and violet light erupted from beneath his palm, swiftly materialising his double-ended sword where his gloved fingers wrapped around the rapier-like centre with ease; tightening just as he swept the weapon before him. Not a heartbeat too soon, the doberman crashed into the haft with a vicious snarl. Its Silverium collar and fittings gleamed beneath the warm light as powerful jaws slammed shut around the weapon, scattering sparks across the stone before the beast recoiled, retreating a single pace without ever taking its dark eyes off him.
He knew this attack by now. Before the first hound had fully recovered, Hugin pivoted on his right foot and drove his left heel into the chest of a second Doberman lunging for his back, sending it hurtling backwards in a streak of black fur and flashing ruby static. It twisted effortlessly through the air, landing cleanly upon all fours, and slid several feet across the cobbles before staying lowered and began to stalk on the side.
Over his shoulder, Hugin caught the first doing exactly the same — Understanding settled over him almost immediately. Neither of them intended to harm him; they were herding him.
Hugin's brows drew together, his eye nearly twitching. Is he serious— Before he could finish the thought, his narrowed gaze shifted from the two Dobermans to the journalist, who had taken full advantage of the interruption. The man stood slumped against the mouth of the alley he had intended to disappear into, dragging in ragged breaths whilst watching the unfolding scene with poorly concealed hope.
Hope that Hugin would find himself occupied by an entirely different quarry.
Hugin let out a quiet huff before his boots began to carry him towards the man at an unhurried pace as his grip tightened around his sword. With a smooth motion, he swished the weapon behind him, paying little mind to the warning growls rumbling from the dogs' throats.
The journalist let out a startled screech, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he stumbled backwards — only for a blinding ruby lightning bolt to crack across the clearing, striking the ground several paces ahead of the journalist with a deafening crack of thunder that scattered dust and loose stone in every direction, stopping Hugin dead in his track.
From the fading scarlet light emerged a figure Hugin recognised all too well.
Superintendent Rex.
The man all but strode forward as though he had all the time in the world. His spear was already resting comfortably in one gloved hand, the ornate weapon spinning lazily between his palm before settling into a reversed reflection of Hugin's own stance. His free hand rose to straighten the sleek black Navy cap perched neatly upon his messy dark hair.
Their eyes met, and Hugin’s clear, cold blue met the molten suns locked onto him with the same scorching intensity as always. It no longer surprised him — if anything, familiarity had dulled the shock weeks ago, leaving only irritation in its place.
He is serious. Hugin thought, unimpressed, as he held his tongue.
Rex finished his leisurely inspection as he came to a stop few feet from him before tipping his head back slightly, regarding Hugin down the length of his nose.
"Detective," he began, his voice carrying that infuriating composure Hugin had come to regard as falsification of the man’s true nature. "As a respected outlaw, I'd have thought you'd know better than to exceed the speed limit whilst riding your steed through Silvernia."
As he spoke, the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, betraying the grin he was clearly suppressing. Hugin had seen that expression often enough to recognise it for what it was.
His ego is just so— Hugin sighed inwardly. He had long since lost count of the number of times the Superintendent had engineered encounters like this for reasons Hugin's mind still failed to comprehend other than an excuse to fight him.
"I trust you at least understand that, in your case..." Rex spun his spear in a fluid arc before bringing it forward, the blunt ornamental tip pointing squarely at Hugin's chest, who in turn looked at the tip before the movement behind the shorter man’s shoulder caught his attention, his bored eyes widening almost instantly as the Superintendent continued,
"...force has been author—"
"Rex!"
Hugin cut him off without hesitation. He caught the brief widening of those fiery eyes, noticed the way both Dobermans stopped their performative growling as their jaws snapped shut, but he paid neither reaction any attention; instead, he stepped past the weapon aimed at his chest and pointed behind Rex. "He’s getting away!"
Though the words might have landed as an order, he cared little for the potential consequence as his mind was fully on capturing the journalist whom he had chased across what felt like the entirety of Silvernia.
There was no way in hell he was letting him escape now.
At his words, Rex tilted his head ever so slightly, his still-wide eyes fixing on the man he'd been pointing at from beneath the brim of his cap. Hugin might not see the look Rex wore, but he didn’t need to — the subtle tightening of his hand around the base of his weapon gave away that the officer had already locked onto the fleeing man as he sprinted deeper into the alley, desperate to disappear into the waiting shadow.
Rex remained still for several long seconds to the point where Hugin’s eyes narrowed before deciding to step forward, his grip tightening around his own weapon, ready to pursue the journalist himself again—
Movement to his right stopped him cold. He watched Rex turn back forward only to split his spear cleanly in two, the weapon separating into matching batons. The left spun in the officer's palm and over his wrist as ruby electricity gradually gathered and began to race along the engraved metal. Then Rex planted his foot, twisted at the waist, and hurled it.
The baton twirled down the alley in a crimson light where Hugin could only watch in stunned silence as it struck the fleeing man square across the back of the neck with a hollow bonk.
Before the man had even begun to topple, Rex was already turning away, extending his right arm with his weapon; the red lightning flared again, and the baton snapped back through the air, connecting into a spear with a sharp crack. In the same fluid motion, he adjusted the brim of his cap with his free hand just as the man behind him pitched forwards and slammed face-first onto the concrete. The entire exchange lasted only a handful of seconds.
Hugin's eyes remained wide as he looked at the Superintendent, who casually swished his weapon behind his back as though nothing unusual had happened.
Their gazes met, where the fire in Rex’s eyes had visibly dimmed; the intensity of his entrance already gone, the navy officer instead decided to straighten rather than continue what he had come here to do.
"I take it you were in the middle of one of your cases?" he asked in an even voice.
Flat as the words were, Hugin caught the sheepish note beneath them, threaded with faint embarrassment at barging into his investigation.
Hugin arched a brow, only to glance towards the pair of Dobermans, now trotting contentedly back to their keeper for well-earned pats. Seeing this, Rex dismissed his weapon, doing as was clearly expected of him.
If Rex were calmer... more calculated... with that same infuriatingly cheeky edge... he'd remind me of Munin.
The thought made him scrunch his face. Wait what?
He gave his head a small shake, disguising the movement by adjusting his top hat, though he knew perfectly well where the comparison had come from.
Working alone still felt jarring where the space Munin had left behind didn’t cease to ache, and no matter how much time passed, part of him kept measuring people against the impossible hope that someone else might one day match his pace as naturally as she once had.
Rex certainly possessed many of Munin's strengths. Their personalities, however, couldn't have been more different. Not that Hugin struggled with queer personalities — he simply knew Rex's uncompromising sense of justice would never allow him to truly stand beside him.
And although Hugin might have earned the officer's respect after exposing Boulden's smuggling scheme, where Rex had occasionally offered the odd piece of quiet aid whenever their paths happened to cross, careful enough that neither of them made the favour obvious — Hugin was not naïve.
To Rex, he was still an outlaw with no rightful place meddling in royal or city affairs.
At least these days the Superintendent seemed less inclined to drag me straight to a prison cell. A small win, but he'd definitely settle for beating Hugin senseless instead if given the chance.
We're almost like two territorial beasts, each waiting for the other to show the slightest hint of weakness.
Suppressing a sigh, Hugin let the last traces of his weapon dissolve before flexing the stiffness from his hand. "Indeed," he replied to the officer’s question evenly, his voice calm as he watched Rex reward either Chalky or Radar with a small treat.
Hugin still couldn't tell the pair apart. Their temperaments and appearances matched almost perfectly, with the only obvious distinction being the silverium earrings clipped on their opposite ears.
"And I take it you were bored?" he added, annoyance slipping into his voice more than he'd intended. But being tracked through the city more often than not by this man would worn anyone's patience thin, he wagered.
Unsurprisingly, the remark earned him a sideways glare before Rex straightened, both Dobermans settling comfortably beside his legs with their tongues lolling.
"Bored?" Rex sounded genuinely offended. "I'm on duty. The Constabulary received a report about a reckless steed rider. A man wearing a feathered top hat, dressed in purple and black, sporting a gleaming purple orb on his left shoulder, with silver hair tied into a sleek ponytail." Rex folded his arms, every inch the composed officer.
Hugin still caught the smug satisfaction the man was trying — and failing — to hide.
"Any idea who this 'suspect' might be, Detective?"
Hugin bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from answering in kind to the blatant sarcasm, sensing that the man was teetering between attacking him and bantering with him. Scales of black and white, my arse. This man was scales of composed and completely unhinged!
He exhaled quietly, forcing the thought aside before meeting Rex's gaze again. "Is that so... I thought matters like that were usually handled by lower-ranking officers for its administrative work," Hugin said. “ A ticket and a notice here should be more expected to be sent to the recipient than a Navy Superintendent, no?"
He took care not to reveal that this was far from the first time he'd been reprimanded for "reckless steed riding" — nor that he was behind the newly established road safety rule, where after a flight he'd very nearly knocked someone clean off their balcony.
Not that he made a habit of it!
Just... A few close calls.
Watching for any reaction, Hugin's calculated gaze gradually gave way to bewildered wonder. Rex's narrowed eyes widened ever so slightly, as though Hugin's words had unearthed a memory the officer would rather have left buried. A heartbeat later, his features twisted into a scowl that might have been convincing had the tips of his ears not betrayed him where a faint flush of pink creeped across them.
Rex cleared his throat into a closed fist, turning away as he lowered his head beneath the brim of his cap. The setting sun caught the dark leather and silver accents of his uniform, throwing warm highlights across the polished gear. The pair of Dobermans glanced up at their handler, tilting their heads almost in perfect unison as if asking: You alright there, sir?
It took every bit of Hugin's restraint not to snort at the thought; refocusing on Rex once the man spoke, his fiery eyes snapping to meet his own under the brim of his cap, making Hugin‘s body instinctively stiffen.
Oh no…
"How do you know all that?"
Hugin stared back blankly, his mind already weighing his options:
> One... tell the truth about the collection of speeding tickets he'd accumulated over the past two months.
> Two... throw Chef Lorin beneath the carriage.
> Three... pass it off as simple deduction.
> Four... run.
The longer he remained silent, the deeper Rex's glare became, where even the Dobermans sensed the shift, their relaxed postures stiffening, ears pricking forwards as both slowly turned to face Hugin, awaiting nothing more than a single command from their keeper.
Hugin glanced towards the sky. The last streaks of orange and violet were already surrendering to the coming night. Too late to bother with another chase across the whole of Silvernia — Especially not over something this trivial.
His eyes drifted towards the unconscious journalist still sprawled in the alley before returning to Rex. Not to mention I've still got a case to finish.
Three options left.
Which one would actually get him off my back?
Certainly not the truth. Admitting he'd received enough speeding notices to recognise the Constabulary's procedures by heart would only give Rex another excuse to fight him. Claiming there were no records would inevitably drag Lorin into the matter instead, who did cover all those misdeeds for him.
Besides the inevitable fight that would break between him and Rex — The chef's standing with the Superintendent was already fragile enough thanks to their irreconcilable views; Hugin didn't want to add more fuel to it, nor discard Lorin's trust.
Which left... Hugin bit back another sigh.
Sometimes he genuinely wondered whether Rex had done something extraordinary in a previous life to earn the universe's favour, seeing as somehow, every road led back to the same destination the officer had hunted him down for in the first place.
A fight. Or rather, a rematch, fuelled by the shorter man's dissatisfaction with their previous one. Which, if he were honest, was no doubt the sole reason a high-ranking officer like him would even bother taking an interest in something as small as a speed-limit case in the first place.
Ah well. At least I'll sleep like the dead tonight. Mind made up, he let the tension melt from his shoulders; crossing his arms with lazy ease, he flashed a cheeky smile at the sceptical man who was sizing him up. "It might sound unbelievable to someone with your level of intelligence—"
"What did you just say?" Rex all but growled, his body tensing, empty hands clenching at his sides as his eyes narrowed, blazing with that familiar barely restrained intensity.
There was something strangely flattering about being the sole focus of such unwavering attention from such a highly respected and ranked official.
Unperturbed, he continued, gesturing lazily with one hand. "But it's hardly difficult to deduce what goes on behind the scenes in the Constabulary, especially in cases this painstakingly simple." He folded his arms once more, his smile sharpening into a smug grin as he met Rex's glare head-on.
The corner of Rex's mouth twitched, and slowly, it began stretching into that all too familiar teeth-baring grin. At the same time, both Dobermans lowered their bodies, muscles tightening as they read their keeper’s intentions long before he issued a command.
"A kindergartener could deduce as much," Hugin went on. "Though, knowing what a hothead you are, I suppose it's hardly surprising you're impressed by something so ba—"
He never finished.
In a heartbeat, every muscle in his right leg coiled before exploding into motion, pivoting sharply aside, his left hand shooting up to steady his top hat as the gleaming spear sliced through the space his head had occupied only an instant before — ruby lightning crackled along its engraved shaft, reflected in Hugin's widening eyes as the weapon passed mere centimetres from his face.
Meeting the blazing glare of the twin suns, Hugin smiled again. Flashing a daring grin, he used Rex’s own momentum and slipped effortlessly behind the shorter man, who had all but lunged himself into the attack.
Hugin tracked the scrape of Rex's boots across stone before they bit into the grass while he adjusted his top hat with calm precision — only to draw his pistol with the same hand in one smooth motion and pivot on his heel before firing.
Rex never faltered — his spear already spinning through the air, its polished shaft blurring into a silver wheel that knocked each bullet aside before it could reach him.
Had Hugin's focus slipped for even a heartbeat in that moment, he would have missed the two whistles, followed by a brief pause and then the final third sharp whistle.
Eyes flashing with understanding. Without hesitation, Hugin dropped into a crouch, letting the two Dobermans that leapt at him from opposite sides sail over where he'd been standing an instant before. The dog on his left carried greater momentum, slamming shoulder-first into the other and sending them both crashing together into the wall of the nearest building.
A chorus of irritated snarls followed as the pair untangled themselves, neither sounding remotely hurt.
Like owner, like dogs, I suppose. Hugin had only a split second to think it before he rose. Straightening his hat—
Only to immediately snatch it from his head and hold it to shield himself just as the blunt tip of Rex’s spear thrust towards his throat, colliding instead with the crown of his hat with a solid thunk, the impact merely shoving him backwards several paces, his boots scraping against the stone as he absorbed the impact.
"Huh?" Rex's eyes widened ever so slightly.
Hugin peered over the brim of his hat. "Silverium is remarkably useful," he spoke with a light tone. "Even in something this ordinary. Wouldn't you agree, Officer?" He said it more as a statement than a question; a feigned grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Rex stared in stunned silence for a fraction too long, allowing Hugin to seize the moment — Twisting his wrist in the same trick he picked up from Argos, Hugin flipped the hat, catching the spear's tip inside before wrenching sideways, attempting to lever the weapon clean from Rex's grasp — only for the officer's eyes to narrow as a grin spread across his face, all bared teeth and barely restrained satisfaction, as he yanked the spear backwards, clearly preparing to split it into twin batons once more.
Before he could, Hugin flung his hat, striking Rex square in his face.
The officer let out a surprised grunt, and Hugin didn't waste to move — closing the distance in two quick strides, he seized the spear from Rex’s loosened grip just as the officer ripped the hat away, glaring daggers at him while Hugin turned the heavier weapon over in his hands. "Didn't I tell you?" he remarked almost absent-mindedly. "With your build and speed, a lighter weapon would suit you far better." As he spoke, his eyes swept their surroundings.
The Dobermans had retreated several paces, standing low with quiet growls rumbling in their throats as the ambient accompanying to what was, frankly, a rather silly fight between him and their keeper.
Looking back at Rex, Hugin found the Superintendent making no effort whatsoever to hide behind his usual composure; the unmistakable enjoyment he was getting from this fight was plain to read on his face.
It caught Hugin off guard for a moment before he quickly schooled his surprise. Is he aware he looks more like a madman than a law enforcer? Hugin didn't dare voice that thought, for obvious reasons.
"Like I'd take fighting advice from an adversary," Rex snarled. He stepped forward, hat already cocked back to hurl at him with considerably more force than Hugin had used moments earlier — but before he could, Hugin turned sharply, gripping the spear’s centre; he thrust upwards beneath the brim of his hat, hooking it neatly before flicking both the hat and the spear skywards, hoping to buy himself even a sliver of an opening however Rex didn't even look. His eyes never left Hugin.
In the next instant, he had already closed the gap; his knee drove upwards towards his face, where Hugin barely had the time to tighten his jaw and twist his head to the right, angling himself so the blow would catch him on his side rather than squarely to his face.
As Rex's knee connected with his cheek, Hugin grunted, forcing his mind to focus on recovering rather than the sting spreading through his face or the copper flooding his tongue.
Rather than crumpling as he had during their first fight, he turned with the force of the blow, dropping onto one knee to bleed off the momentum, hoping to use it to get back up quickly — but Rex had already closed in again. The officer leapt forward, his leg snapping out towards Hugin's left side. Expect this time, Hugin raised both forearms and angled them into the strike, taking the impact across his guard instead of his face.
Pain rattled through his arms, but he held. Still kneeling, he peered up through the fringe of his hair, a strained smile tugging at his lips. Rex landed lightly a short distance away, a sharp huff escaping him as his own momentum forced him to retreat.
But the instant his boots scraped across the stone, Rex lunged again.
Hugin had only just regained his footing with a split second to react in which he managed to catch Rex’s right fist with his left just before it reached his jaw. His pulse thundered in his ears, his gaze followed every movement, catching the blur of Rex's left hand driving towards his ribs. His right hand shot up, locking that wrist as well.
For a heartbeat they stood frozen. Hugin looked into the officer's blazing eyes, bright with adrenaline and something unnervingly close to delight, with his mind too focused where everything else disappeared. Every ounce of strength went into keeping Rex in place as the man strained against him, muscles tightening beneath his grip.
Hugin could feel the sweat gathering beneath his fringe, though he barely noticed. Somewhere behind him came the unmistakable clatter of the spear, and he fought the urge to search for his own hat; instead, he narrowed his eyes as he dug his heels into the ground.
Just how strong is he?! It was something Hugin would only admit to a few, but there was something deeply unsettling about how much power could be packed into Rex's lean... frame.
Ah... that reminds me. A woman’s face with a seductive smile and cat-like eyes glinting with knowing mischief surfaced in his mind. He knew someone shorter, slighter, and not nearly as strong, yet infinitely more slippery, who taught him a few dirty tricks through cases he invited her to aid him in.
Something had to shift in his expression as he smiled down at Rex. The change caught the officer completely off guard, where his struggle faltered, and his fierce eyes widened for the briefest instant. That was all Hugin needed.
He stepped in until their chests met, then, recalling one of Rose’s more infuriating tricks, carefully threaded his fingers between Rex's tightly clenched ones. He ignored the officer's stunned stare entirely. I really ought to invite you for a few rounds of thr finest liqueur once this is over, Ms Red Rose.
His smile deepened as their fingers laced together.
Rex seemed momentarily incapable of deciding how to respond. Even the growling around them had faded, leaving only the wind whispering through the silence.
"Mr Superintendent~" Hugin said, his voice dripping with sickly sweetness. Within seconds, Rex's astonishment hardened into a glare as his grip crushed back with iron strength.
"Don't call me like that." The words came out little short of a growl.
Hugin resisted the urge to wince as the pressure bit into his aching hands. Instead, he calmly lifted his left hand with Rex's right, guiding the officer's other hand onto his shoulder while settling his own hand against Rex's back — the man stiffened at once, head tipping back as he tried to work out exactly what he thought he was doing.
Hugin didn't allow him to recover however; He pulled him closer, reclaiming Rex's attention with ease, though he was forced to tilt his head aside just before their foreheads could collide.
Like this, he could feel every muscle in Rex's body drew taut, hands clamped harder around Hugin's with the pressure biting deep enough to make his fingers ache.
All of which he had ignored to proceed with his plan.
Leaning close enough for his breath to brush the officer's ear, he lowered his voice to a smooth whisper. "Would you fancy a dance?"
Before Rex could answer, Hugin pivoted — He twisted the officer neatly around, drawing Rex's back against his own chest and sliding his right foot backwards. Rex's right leg followed a beat later; awkwardly, almost against his own will.
The man's wide-eyed stare dropped towards their feet, bewilderment written plainly across his face, as though he couldn't understand why his body had obeyed. All the while, Hugin kept his face lifted towards the darkening sky with eyes squeezed shut. Please... let this work.