( No Title )
Chains of the Dragon (8986 words) by thesavagesabretooth
Chapters: 2/?
Additional Tags: Polyamory, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, relationship drama, genre: political thriller and soap opera, plot heavy
–
October 1, 2028– 9:50 am
Klavier sat up in bed while Ema was snoring beside him, the pale golden tendrils of morning light intruding through the blinds of his bedroom window. He leaned limply against the headboard, running his fingers through the thin, mussed strands of his hair as he stared at the ceiling blankly.
He should have known something was wrong when he hadn’t heard from Apollo in four fucking months. Sure, they did not have as close a relationship as Klavier maybe wanted him to have, and sure, he wanted to respect Apollo’s privacy and boundaries– but he still should have known something was wrong.
Maybe he had known something was wrong all along, but he was afraid to approach it. Maybe he was afraid that Apollo was simply done with him. Maybe he was afraid, as he had been at the start, that Apollo had only started fucking him at all because of his resemblance to his brother. Klavier didn’t know what kind of relationship Apollo had, or hadn’t had, with Kristoph, but he knew that on the few occasions where either of them would mention the taboo topic of the other Gavin brother, Apollo got that look in his eyes that Klavier had seen in Kristoph’s lovers. But maybe it was just that as his boss, he’d had him under the same type of spell.
Klavier had to admit that he didn’t want to know. He was much happier when Apollo was with someone else. With Athena, or Clay before– or damn it, especially when he was with Klavier himself.
Klavier didn’t own Apollo. He knew that.
Apollo didn’t owe him any of his time, or anything else. But damn it, Klavier missed him. And he felt used the way Apollo would blow into his life for a few days, all laugther and smiles and letting Klavier drag him around on stupid dates, or else showing up at Klavier’s place to cry in his lap and refuse to explain why– and then he would vanish again. Leaving him with nothing.
“Apollo Justice is fine!” Scheisse! Niemals! Absolute bullshit! Apollo Justice was as far from fine as you could get– but he didn’t want to talk about it to Klavier! Hell, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to talk about it to anyone.
And now, according to Trucy, he’d run away to some foreign country to become a monk and run away from all his problems.
The worst part is that Klavier could absolutely believe it. It sounded just like him.
Why the hell had it taken Klavier four months to decide to do something?
Ema stirred in her sleep, and he was pulled out of his dark, brooding reverie.
October 1, 2028– 10:25 am
Ema woke up, as she so often did whether she liked to admit it or not, in Klavier Gavin’s bed.
“NNngh…” were the first sounds she uttered as she flinched away from the light of dawn. “…shouldn’t have had that much to drink…gah..”
It took her a second to register the fact, but she soon sank into the familiarity of it with a low hiss of breath. As much as she went out of her way to gripe and claim otherwise, she was living the fangirl’s dream of waking up in the bed of a rock star more often than they’d even dare to dream.
It was a big, comfortable bed, too, more comfortable than it had any right to be, with slippery silk black sheets and big, downy pillows.
As soon as she roused, Klavier was on her like an animal– specifically, like a big, affectionate cat. He scooped his arms around her and nuzzled his neck.
“Guten Morgen, fräulein,” Klavier purred. “So sorry about your head.”
Ema’s face flushed a vivid red as she squawked in surprise, wincing at the sound.
“Gah, you– you ridiculous fop!” Despite her barb, her arm looped around him as she shivered pleasantly. “I see you still like waking people up like you were some kind of overgrown housecat.”
“You don’t like morning cuddles?” he asked, nuzzling up against her under the blankets. His hair was askew, and falling all in his face, and behind his smile, he looked troubled. “Who doesn’t like morning cuddles? You are ein monster, fräulein.”
Klavier was in fine form that morning. Ema could tell. The more worked up Klavier was, the more of that ridiculous fake German got peppered into his speech.
It was almost adorable. Adoerible even. Though now that she was sober, she saw the flaws in that particular word smash up.
“Did I say I hated cuddling, Gavin?” she huffed as she reached a hand up to brush through his infuriatingly silky hair. “You’re in a mood today. Open your german word of the day calendar before waking me up?”
“I wouldn’t dare get out of bed while you were still sleeping there so cutely,” he teased. “How is it you are still so cute even when you are snoring so loudly, mein liebchen?
He nuzzled his head against her fingers, rubbing against her–once more, like a cat.
Ema flushed deeper, and despite her performative little frown, she couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for the ridiculous fop.
“Keep talking about my snoring, pal, and I’m going to dump a whole bag of snackoos on your face.” She tugged his hair lightly to make her point “how are you so peppy the day after…after an open bar?”
"Liebchen, remember. You didn’t take me to the wedding. For me, there was no open bar.” He bumped his head gently against hers, and kissed her temple.
Ema pouted, idly stroking her fingers through his hair.
“It’s not like I tried to leave you out, Gavin. The Sprockets just insisted that Edgeworth bring a plus one and he picked me ‘cause I had to investigate that shitshow.” She leaned up, and almost kissed his cheek before she stopped short. “the maniac held two fucking wedding receptions to gaslight the couple. It was insane. Second…third, maybe fourth stupidest case of my life.”
“I am a little sorry to have missed it, fraulein.” He chuckled and shook his head, looking off into the distance. “Ah well. It seems that there are many things I have missed lately.”
Klavier’s arm brushed up over her shoulders and his fingers trailed teasingly across the back of her neck.
He knew, he KNEW she was ticklish there, which meant that he got exactly the intended response of her squeak and stifled laughter as she burrowed against him with a huff.
“Ggghh…” She looked up at him with tired and groggy eyes, “Khura’in, yeah?”
“Ja, liebchen, Khura’in.” He pulled her close as she leaned into him, and shook out his hair a little, running his fingers through it. “I knew that you were playing globetrotting detective, but it seems that I missed quite a bit.”
She leaned her head against him
“It’s my job, Klavier… You…you know I have to go where I’m assigned. And I was assigned to prosecutor Sahdmadhi at the Chief Prosecutor’s request-and the guy sure liked racking up a massive travel bill.” Her fingers twisted against his sheets, near his leg. “A..a lot happened, nobody expected it.”
“Fraulein, it is not you I am annoyed at, I promise.” He kissed the top of her head. “Of course it is your job, that’s not a problem. It’s…”
Ema tilted her head up, and her lips brushed his chin in a quick kiss.
“Justice, right?” She sighed, and placed her fingertips to her forehead. The pounding only got worse…she should have expected this. She should have.
“Herr forehead. Justice,” he agreed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You know we had the same kind of arrangement as you and I do– or so I thought.”
For a moment he looked like he was about to continue, but he shook his head. “But this isn’t the conversation to have right when you’ve woken up. Liebchen, I am a terrible host, I am sorry. Let me get you some ice water, and some breakfast.”
Ema sighed, and flopped back against him more fully with an attempt at a smile. “Finally, you show a little mercy on this poor, weakened detective.”
“If I’m anything, fraulein, it’s merciful.”
October 1, 2028– 11:15 am
Klavier was as good as his word, as always. He made her breakfast in his too-big, too-lavish kitchen full of gadgets it was obvious he rarely used. He’d left a whole pitcher of ice water and painkillers in front of her while he’d worked, singing and cooking like some kind of musical, if haphazard, chef.
It was almost a show. Not a very good show, but a show nonetheless. Hand squeezed orange juice. An espresso pulled from a great, gleaming chrome espresso machine. French omelets and buttered toast. All prepared to the melodic unaccompanied strains of Atroquinine, My Love.
Ema had, of course, downed all the painkillers her body could tolerate before she could tolerate the full lyrical irony of Atroquinine, My Love. It was a good song…hell, she even liked it. She’d never tell him that, of course. But after the whole Misham case, it always struck her as just on the edge of bad taste. Which, admittedly, almost made it better.
She was halfway through another full glass of ice water by the time he was done making espresso.
“I can’t believe I’m being served by a goddamned fairytale princess.”
“As if I don’t treat you like a princess every time you grace me with your presence, mein liebchen.” He slid a double espresso latte in front of her. There was a heart in the foam.
He bustled over and grabbed the plates, setting them down on the breakfast bar before arranging himself on the stool across from her.
Ema flushed deeper, half hiding behind her water glass with a downwards glance at the latte.
“You do…” She stuck out her tongue. “it makes me think you want something.”
“What, every time I treat you like a princess?” he purred, gazing at her over his own coffee cup. “Would you rather I treat you as something else, liebling?”
Ema hid her face with another long sip of water before she answered.
“A p-princess is fine. For the moment.” She stuck out her tongue before grabbing the mug of espresso with a huff, “…thanks for the coffee, your majesty.”
“Cheers, Prinzessin,” he cooed, raising his cup. “As for wanting something from you, I already got your cooperation for that yesterday. Like we were talking of in bed.”
She sipped the espresso latte with a quiet nod. “Yeah…I know. Just so you know I don’t think it’s exactly as dire as Trucy might have told you, Klav.”
“Trucy did make it sound pretty dire. Why don’t you give me your perspective then. If your head’s calmed down a little.”
She took another long sip before she set the mug down.
“The guy’s adoptive father just died, and he had a whole trial to save his childhood best friend from his abusive aunt.”
Ema grimaced as the details of the trial flickered through her mind, the spirit channeling, the attempted public execution, the kidnapping plot. The whole thing had been a huge mess that nearly ended badly for everyone. She wasn’t happy with Dhurke, hell, she didn’t even like the guy. But she couldn’t deny that Apollo had complicated feelings about him, that the man being dead didn’t help.
“He was in kind of a rough place, too, after the Phantom trial and everything after. I think he saw the chance to open his dead father figure’s law office as a chance to do something good and maybe get back on track. Some time away, you know? My guess is he’ll be back in LA once the retrials are all finished and there’s enough lawyers to have a functioning legal system again.”
“Are they making good progress? It’s been what, four months now?” Klavier looked slightly pacified, but still concerned, a little frown written on his cute face.
She knew Klavier and Apollo hadn’t exactly had a tight knit relationship– she suspected that both of them had wanted more from it than they thought the other one was willing to commit. And now Klavier seemed to have proof of that for himself.
Ema sighed, pushing her hand through her hair.
“Yeah, four months or so. I’ll be honest, last I saw while working with Prosecutor Sahdmadhi it wasn’t going well. They’re blowing through retrials but nobody’s picked up the job of defense yet. I’m guessing they’re just celebrating being free before getting back to work, but…”
Klavier lowered his gaze, his frown deepening. “What do you mean by this, fraulein? No one is picking up the job of defense?”
Ema grimaced into her coffee. “I mean every defense attorney Apollo exonerated hasn’t returned to practicing law as far as I’m aware. Leaving him and Nahyuta the only defense and prosecutorial team actively in duty.”
He nearly spat out his coffee. “The only defense and prosecution in the city? That’s madness, fraulein!”
“In the country, actually.” Ema took another sip of her increasingly necessary coffee. “It is insane, yeah. I’ll be honest, Klav. I’ve been working myself to the bone there too…that’s part of why I’m back. I needed a break. But, I’m sure they’re just celebrating before returning to the practice. Hell, it’s likely to be resolved by the time we GET there.”
“Well if it is, then we can be there just in time for the wrap party, ja?” He forced a smile, but it was clear that he didn’t believe it. “Fraulein, it sounds like poor Apollo Justice has been even more miserable for the last year than he would let me believe.”
“Of course he is!” Ema put her fingers to her forehead. “I mean…Justitia, Klavier. He lost his best friend, was forced to doubt his close co-worker, had to deal with that whole clusterfuck in Cauli with the spy ring, and then got dragged to the ass-end of nowhere to solve his absent-ass dad’s murder!”
She gesticulated wildly as she spoke. “Apollo Justice is NOT fine. I think that’s why he needed a change of scenery, even if the situation still sucks!”
“Scheisse, fraulein, you don’t think I know that? But he did not want to talk to me, ja? Every time I bring up how he’s feeling, he pushes me away.”
Klavier scowled, looming over his coffee with his shoulders slumped.
Ema sighed, and leaned forward to place her hand on his shoulder with a furrow of her brow.
“Look, Klavier. I’m gonna tell you something as someone who also really cares about him, loves him even.”
“I’m listening.”
“Apollo Justice may be one of the most emotionally constipated, hard headed, stubborn idiots I’ve ever known…and I idolize MIles Edgeworth. I think Apollo Justice would sooner up and die in a plane crash than communicate his fucking feelings.”
“Please don’t say die in a plane crash under these circumstances, fraulein.” Klavier sagged further. “But no, you’re right. You’re very right. I just don’t understand why, or what to do about it.”
Ema rubbed his shoulders.
“I dunno, Klavier..” She sighed. “aA much as I don’t wanna admit it, maybe traveling to go see him really is the right option. See if you can slap a little sense into him where I couldn’t. I don’t think what he’s doing is..bad…per se..”
Her eyes glanced downwards and her brow furrowed.
“Sometimes…sometimes you just have to deal with a responsibility for a bit.” Like with Lana. Her sister languishing in the depths of corruption for her sake once more flashed through her mind, willing to set herself on fire for the responsibility of keeping her and her future safe. “b-but he might be going too far.”
Klavier made a frustrated scoff at the back of his throat and waved his hand dismissively.
“Ja, ja, liebling, I already know that! I have already resolved that he must be dragged back.” He shook his head. “I meant how do I get herr forehead to talk about his feelings?”
“Probably not torture,” Ema said dryly, “so leave your pliers at home.”
“Scheisse.” He snapped his fingers. “But, if it’s only probably, maybe I should bring them and my shock baton anyway, ja?”
He grinned that same catlike smile as usual, though his clear unease was still written behind it.
Ema snickered quietly. “Yeah, feel free. If nothing else might make for a fun afternoon.” she joked “…but seriously. I think maybe you gotta brute force it. I’ll help. “
“If you’ll help, fraulein, maybe we can actually manage to pry him open.”
She leaned in and pecked his lips in a quick kiss. “Like a fucking oyster.”
He chuckled and grabbed her jaw, pulling her into a more full kiss instead.
“Like a fucking oyster, liebling. You’ll help me make the travel plans after breakfast?”
Ema chuckled darkly as their lips parted, tasting the sharp taste of the espresso on her tongue as she gave him a salute.
“After breakfast. You got more treating me like a princess to get through before I help you do something stupid.”
“Of course, Prinzessin, I won’t shirk my duties.”
October 1, 2028– 10:45 am
Trucy had just gotten off the phone with Pearl.
From the sound of it, the start of the Police Academy had been going well enough…Pearl had managed to get Vera Misham as a roommate, exactly as she knew they both had been hoping. Trucy waited until after they gossiped about the Academy and Pearl’s fellow recruits before she dropped the bombshell.
The ‘I’ll be out of town for a little bit hunting down Apollo Justice for sport and personal reasons’ bombshell, mixed with the ‘oh btw he’s my brother’ one for good measure.
Pearl had taken it well. Disappointed that she couldn’t come along. ‘This is the second trip to Khura’in I’ve missed!’, but she wished Trucy luck and made her promise to bring Apollo over to say hello once they were back.
She hadn’t been surprised about the brother thing. Her exact words were ‘oh I had just assumed’.
It was perhaps the most underwhelming part of the conversation. At the very least Trucy had been hanging her hopes that someone would be blown out of the water by this as she was.
But Pearl was always captain perceptive…it was no surprise she saw right through to the truth while Apollo and Trucy were too wrapped up in their nonsense to notice. But she promised to take lots of pictures, bring back lots of sweets, and to ‘Drag Apollo back kicking and screaming’ if need be to say hello to her.
As the call ended, she felt a little more bolstered, a little more ready to face the rest of the day before her flight. She had to break the news to the De Famme twins, so they didn’t lose their minds without her.
Betty was probably going to be angry. After all, it was only two months ago that Trucy and Bonny had managed to wheedle her into agreeing to the twins joining the Wright Anything Agency– and Trucy’s act– in the first place. Finding out that practice was going to be canceled because her boss had better things to do would probably steam her up.
When Betty got steamed, it always turned into a huge production…so she stalled, stopping for a parfait at the cafe on her way to the studio and playing with her phone as she thought about whether she should just do it via text or not.
She ran into an unexpected problem when she was seated at a table at the cafe– right next to Betty who was working on her own parfait.
“…………” Trucy slurped a bite of her parfait as she slowly tucked her cell phone in her cloak’s sewn in pocket. “Well, well, well. Look what the bat dragged in.” she grinned teasingly.
Betty looked up at her with her spoon in her mouth, and gave her a dark look under her long lashes. “I should say the same thing to you, Wright.”
She wasn’t in her magician outfit, instead her ‘civilian’ identity– a heavy purple yukata with a chrysanthemum and rose pattern, her dark hair brushed back from her temples and pinned away from her face with butterfly clips. It was clear why she and her sister had never been caught at their twin act before the trial.
Trucy leaned on her hand with a wink.
“You could, but you haven’t dragged me anywhere yet.” she grabbed her parfait, and plopped herself on the seat opposite Betty. “But don’t, this is fortunate…I was actually hoping to corner you and Bonny about something.”
“You’ll have to settle for me for now, Bonny’s busy.” Betty leaned over the table toward Trucy as she sat down. “What is it? Are we fired?”
“You’d wish!” Trucy teased with a sly edge to her grin. She scooped up a strawberry with her spoon “but I’d miss you too bad, Betts. No, you’re stuck with me for a long time yet! but practice is going to be put on a hiatus for a bit.”
“What? What for?” Betty demanded, growling. She grabbed the strawberry off Trucy’s spoon and popped it into her own mouth.
“Hey! Tch…”Trucy pouted before she reached out to steal a bite from Betty’s in return, popping it into her mouth before she could stop her. She tilted her nose up. “Because I have to go save my idiot brother from becoming a Justitia damned monk for the rest of his life.”
“I’m sorry, you have to what? Since when do you have a fucking brother?” Betty snapped with an incredulous look. She went back to sucking on her spoon as if it was a cigarette.
Trucy waved her spoon in the air with a soft huff.
“I have to go save my brother from becoming a monk, geeze Betty. This is like…elementary level stuff.” She pointed her spoon at Betty “first…I didn’t know I had a brother until like…yesterday when my Daddy finally deigned to tell me. Second, I’m not even joking. You probably saw it on the news, yeah? The whole revolution in the Kingdom of Khura’in?”
“Yeah, of course I saw the news. And then you fucking told me you were there,” Betty snorted. “So what, that guy that you left there– what was his name, Paulie? He’s your brother now or something?”
Trucy nearly spit out her parfait.
“Eyyyyy, Paulie” she snickered over it for a moment before she corrected Betty. She stuck her tongue out after swallowing. “Polly. Apollo. We share a momma, Betty. The Siren of the Ballad, Lamiroir. She had amnesia and then wanted to keep it quiet ‘until the right moment..”
Trucy’s expression twitched, and she pushed down the anger and frustration into her usual flippant playfulness. “And now I found out just at the right time…when the asshole’s gone to cloister himself as the sole arbiter of justice in the mountains.”
Betty frowned around her spoon, and mumbled. “Sho he’s not in line for the gramophone?”
Trucy stared at her for a long moment as she fished in her nearly empty parfait.
Gramarye throne.
“No. I mean…maybe? Lamiroir turned out to actually be grandpa’s amnesiac daughter who he abandoned in Europe…so I guess by that token Apollo kinda has a claim if he really wants to, but..”
Betty pulled the spoon out of her mouth and pointed it at Trucy. “So is he a rival, or not? I’m not killing anybody. If you want him gone, he can just stay a monk, right? Unless he’s learning fucking… mountains monk magic.”
Trucy warred with dual impulses, one one hand, she nearly broke out laughing. On the other hand, she wanted to launch a strawberry into her face for even suggesting it. Her spoon came up about halfway before she finally broke the urge and ate it instead with a low snicker.
“He’s probably learning all kinds of magic from that smug ass prosecutor who he was making doe eyes at the whole trial. If you know what I mean.” She scuffed her foot on the ground “but gosh…I dunno if I’d ever call him a rival. Polly HATES stage magic after all I put him though. And I want him back, he’s making both ME and his special friend upset.”
“His ‘special friend’ huh?” Betty gave her a dubious look. “So, what, is this a breakup thing then? Cause I’m telling you right now you should not get in the middle of a breakup, Trucy, it’ll be a fucking mess.”
“But he’s my brother!” Trucy whined “and anyway, they didn’t break up! They haven’t talked in like…half a year or something. There’s a difference. Their mutual girlfriend’s back in town and she’s gonna book us a flight to go burn down the temple or something.”
She held up her hands “metaphorically.”
“Metaphorically."
Betty drawled back, clearly not convinced. She leaned across the table toward Trucy.
"So let me get this straight. You’re flying to another country, to stick your nose in somebody else’s romantic business. That somebody is a potential Gramarye rival and your secret brother who’s learning mystical magics from some monk prosecutor. And you’re possibly burning down a temple. Does that sum it up, yes or no?”
“More or less, yeah.” Trucy tipped her hat up with a shaky smile. “But Polly would never fight me for the Gramarye name..”
Why would he? It’s a history of violence, manipulation and cruelty that lead to some of the greatest stage magic man had ever seen. And he hates stage magic, he never stops screaming from the moment he hops on stage to the moment we drag him off. “But that sums it up pretty nicely otherwise, yeah.”
“Great. Wonderful, okay. Two things. One– you’re buying me another parfait. And two. We’re coming with you.”
Trucy’s eyes widened.
“first…why the hell am I buying you a parfait? You ATE part of mine. Second…why the hell do you wanna drag yourself and your sister to Khura’in with me?”
“One– because you owe me for listening to your sob story. And two, uuuh, who fucking wouldn’t want to go stick their nose in other people’s business, burn down temples, and steal mountain monk magic? Because I’ll tell you right now I’m getting a piece of that monastic shit.”
Trucy pointed at her.
“Not before I do, Betts. I’m gonna buy you a parfait but it’s coming outta your next paycheck, okay?” She waved down the waiter with a snort. “…alright. You and Bonny can come, okay? But you’re gonna be sticking to me like glue.”
“Obviously! I’m not going to be sleeping at the hotel while you’re doing all the fun shit.”
Trucy grinned widely “great! Then you can carry my bags, cutie pie.”
“Like hell I am!” Betty sneered. “If anything, Bonny can do it.”
Discussion ¬