A Foul Mood

[madimpossibledreamer]

i swear it has not been three years since i've written this au--

Main Points:
Ace Attorney AU (Mein Prinz)
Chapter Summary: The training didn't seem to have improved Klavier's mood.
Word Count: 1342
Rating: K
Note: Apollo Justice spoilers. Probably spoilers for the rest of the series, too.

        Previously, Apollo had thought he wasn’t too social in nature.  Compared to people like Clay, he was fine not interacting with too many people every day. 
        He’s beginning to second guess himself.  He’s never seen some of these areas of his own kingdom, and it’s nice.  He’s taking pride in the friendliness and happiness of the people.  Some seem to be setting up for some sort of autumn festival, one he’s never heard of in the capital.  He enjoys speaking to the merchants on the street, even those suggesting certain prices are a ‘steal’ even as his bracelet constricts around his wrist, buying small sweet buns for himself and his oddly silent companion or a small, ornate dagger to help him feel slightly more ready for any further surprises.
        Unfortunately, most of the friendly attitude Klavier had previously been showing has almost completely disappeared.  He’s quiet and scowling at almost everything.  He’d claimed that the demon incident wasn’t that serious, no matter the fact that he’s practically turned into a snarling guard dog whose main function seems to be to intimidate anyone that passes them and hold the horses’ reins.  While he grudgingly accepts the bun, the expression remains surly and even downright hostile as they pass a group of troubadours.
        “What’s your problem?” he finally asks, when they finally leave the town.  Previous attempts to provoke Klavier into conversation had yet to get any results, even through hours of wild territory.  They’re close to the border of the kingdom, finally, only a few small towns left and are, from what he can tell, out of earshot of anyone or anything.  (The only reason he knows this is that Klavier told him, specifically, not that the devil has actually agreed to teach him to read a map or anything useful on the grounds he doesn’t have to since he has an escort who does.)
        “You have someplace to be, Stirn.  I don’t see the purpose of meaningless amusements distracting you so,” he snarls, sounding so inhuman the prince reflexively checks for wings and fangs.  No sign of them can be found.
        “I have you to protect me,” he waves that off, only for silence and an utterly still bracelet to meet him.  “Wait, are you actually worried about being able to keep me safe?”  Still no change, but this time he does get a reaction.
        Suddenly, with the same flowing rush of movement as in the jail cell the Undying One urges his horse far too close, snarl oddly at home on a human face, hand curled around the sword.  This time, he’s frozen, the horse stumbling back a step as if acting on his thoughts.  He can’t just hide behind Kristoph, and there are no bars in the way.  “Your forehead is thick enough it prevents anything else from entering, I suppose,” he hisses, flicking Apollo’s forehead again, only this time it’s not playful.  It’ll probably bruise.  “I am a pathetic half-blood of a devil who was captured by a human and has been trapped, starving, in a dungeon for years.  Mein Geist is our only edge, und you are a frail, spoilt Princeling mit no sense of your own mortality or self-preservation.”
        Almost immediately, he stops talking, wincing and rubbing his throat.
        “Said too much?” Apollo asks, wryly.  That’s probably his fault, somehow.  Klavier glares but just urges his horse to move away.  From the way he almost immediately starts it trotting, it’s like he wants to leave Apollo behind, despite the fact that he can’t, given his oath.
        Fortunately, Apollo does have horseriding experience, mostly for competitions, and catches up at a gallop, at which point he slows down the horse.  “I get it.  I’ve never gotten to see this much of the kingdom, and you’re the expert here,” he begins quietly.
        The blond devil doesn’t bother to respond, but he does match his horse’s pace to Apollo’s, so the prince suspects he’s listening anyway.
        “I want to be a good ruler when I come of age, like my mother and father before me.  True, advisors like Kristoph are invaluable, but I want to get to know my people and what they want.  True, it’s too dangerous as of yet.  I can’t just go out as myself, not on a whim, so this feels like some great opportunity.”  He only gets a slight toneless hum in response.  “Plus,” he adds, a little slyly, because he’s starting to get desperate, “…it’s the only chance I’ll get in a long while to not listen to Kristoph, for once.”
        As suspected, the devil does smile at that.  “Do you truly dislike him?”  His voice is soft, thoughtful, a little hoarse, perhaps even a little scared—and for good reason, because even if he’d deserved it, he’d suffered under Kristoph’s hands.
        “I mean, he’s done a lot for our family.  I know that he’s making a lot of these decisions to protect me.  But he can be a little scary.  I mean, not that I have to tell you that.”  Of course, he wouldn’t hurt Apollo, but it can still be uncomfortable.
        “Ja,” he agrees casually.  The silence, at least, is less uncomfortable, but Apollo still doesn’t like it.  “Apparently I have shared too much,” he explains, more pouty than surly, now.
        “Wait, but what if what you had to say could save my life?” the prince asks in surprise, only to get a gloomy shrug in return.
        No wonder.  And the magic didn’t let him lie, so some of the things he’s said, like being half-human, are true.  Of course, he could have been lying about that, too, but Apollo’s bracelet is working on more than just Klavier.  And he’s no doubt using the truth because it’s so effective, which is probably why Kristoph’s spell is particularly targeting such things.
        “That had to be an unintended side effect,” he decides.  What he’s learned so far suggests that Kristoph hadn’t told him everything either, concerned how he’d deal with a devil, even if he’s only half.  Just because he’s pledged to serve Apollo doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be creative with following orders and doesn’t have an agenda.  Perhaps the prince had been naïve, would have trusted too quickly if he’d known all of this at the beginning.  But putting him in danger?  Kristoph wouldn’t do that on purpose.  But then, spells had to have tradeoffs, right?  The perfect spell can’t exist.  Klavier is notedly silent, but then he probably has little reason to see the positives in the advisor.
        “What if I ordered you?  Could you talk about what you want to talk about?” he wonders out loud.
        “I don’t know.”  The voice is bleak, like he’s given up.  Like how he sounded after his wings tore in the dungeon.
        He might as well try.  “Come on, talk to me.  This is an order from the Prince of the House of the Sun.” 
        Klavier chokes a little, but eventually manages, “…where we were attacked.”  It’s nowhere near the amount he wants to say, judging by how frustrated and in pain he looks, but it’s a start.
        “What about it?” he tries to clarify further.
        “Too close to the capital,” voice sounding even less comprehensible, even less human.
        “Maybe it’s gotten more dangerous than when you were last free?” Apollo suggests, and Klavier shakes his head, the blond hair flopping around with the force.
       “Feels wrong,” he growls. 
        He assumes there has to be some sort of devil’s sense Klavier’s basing this on.  Part of it, though, might be the upheaval.  If not for Kristoph, then some of the neighboring kingdoms might have tried outright to conquer the Gramarye Kingdom outright.  Perhaps they might have switched to hiring mercenaries to act where they could not directly.
        And then Apollo realizes he smells something on fire and loud, angry raised voices.  Not a simple fireplace, not a cooking fire.  And they’re approaching another small town.
        He turns to Klavier with wide eyes, and quickly urges his horse into a gallop, the blond swearing behind him.