Sleuth Diplomacy [Finished]

[Vriska]

I love the way you city girls dress

Even though your head's in a mess

Fighting for the rights of half-bloods, quarter-bloods and my-grandmother-was-a-Goron-honest people was an intense, demanding lifestyle that tended to leave you drained both mentally, physically and spiritually. It was no surprise to Vriska when she head Rwaht Orin, leader of the hybrid rights movement and the man rumor had it was her boss, decided to take a day off. No doubt he was going to spend the day relaxing in some way, maybe read a book or give food to the needy.

Well, too bad for the needy - Vriska Brighteyes was in town.

She rapped politely on Rwaht's door and donned a sweet, innocent smile that just so happened to be full of razor-sharp fangs.

[Rwaht]

Rwaht had promised himself at least one day off. Vriska and Aerith were right, of course, when they said that he worked too much, usually, and even he had to acknowledge that they had a point. As it was he'd wound up sitting at home, at his table, poring over documents and ledgers that he'd been putting off while he'd been away attending as much business as he could, meeting various delegates and leaders, and even personally flying to Sky City to meet this Ryst he'd heard so much about. That had been interesting, at least.

When he heard the knock at his door, he frowned and put down the piece of paper he'd been studying and answered it. A curious expression crossed his face when he saw Vriska, one halfway between enormous relief and moderate annoyance.

"Hello, Vriska," Rwaht said calmly, wondering just what his Consul had in store for him.

[Vriska]

Vriska watched Rwaht come to the door. She was right - he was working! On his day off! How sad was that? The door opened and she closed her Vision Eightfold lest she curse him somehow. Honestly, it would be for his own good!

"Helloooooooo," Vriska said as sweetly as she could. "I heard you decided to take a day off - finally. So I just thought, since you are obviously incapable of relaxing by your lonesome, I'd come and help you with the big words like 'Rest' and 'Vacations are for vacationing you idiot'~"

[Rwaht]

Rwaht blinked.

"You're smiling. All of a sudden I feel a very mortal danger," he said dryly, before inviting her in with a wave. he walked back to the table and picked up a stack of papers. Grinning, he handed a few to Vriska. "Here. You want to help, help your Praetor with the bleeding paperwork," he muttered, before he took a seat and picked up the document he'd been looking over before he'd heard Vriska knocking. He knew she wouldn't likely like his response, but the work needed to be done.

"Every day I put off work, my breaks go onto the backs of the people I'm supposed to serve," Rwaht said absently, almost to himself.

[Vriska]

Vriska understood where Rwaht was coming from. She really did. She understood the whole thing about duty and honor and hard work. However, she'd also read a certain word. 'Delegation' it was called. It meant giving less important work to less important people so that your job didn't chew you up and spit you out.

Vriska knew a lot about how life could chew a person up. It could happen suddenly or slowly, from the inside or the out, but it did. She gave him an exaggerated sigh.

"Why oh why did I ever keep such a boring dog? The least he could do is play fetch once in a while. Or, I don't know, piss on something." Vriska glided easily into Rwaht's home, following him into his war room. He unceremoniously picked up a stack of papers and gave them to her. She skimmed the title of the first page. 'Lord Vermont Audit: Final Report'

Vriska blinked, trying to remember if she'd seen that name somewhere before. The bald, greasy blacksmith who took on hybrid 'apprentices' and worked them relentlessly? No. Probably a fresh one. It didn't matter. The math was beyond her. She flipped to the next one. Then the next. Then the next.

"So," the dutiful Consul drawled. "How are things? With you, I mean, not the Sentinels."

[Rwaht]

Rwaht ignored Vriska, and continued examining the documents, particularly one which seemed to be giving him trouble. It involved a Zora dignitary; Rwaht's jurisdiction technically extended across Hyrule, but he doubted the Zora would appreciate the intrusion of an organization that did, after all, have its backing in Princess Zelda's court.

All the more reason to find somewhere new to set up shop, Rwaht thought to himself, as he realized Vriska was talking. He caught the tail end of it and frowned, before picking up a sheet of paper that Vriska had discarded.

"There are no other things," he said bluntly, before he read the paper with a flick of his eyes. "For every one of these I ignore, there's a chance someone will be hurt, or used, or spat on. Now explain to me where that becomes okay." Rwaht must have realized the sternness in his eyes, because he shook his head and rubbed his temples with his fingers, before he said, "Sorry. I know you're trying to help. But I can't let these go, not in good conscience."

[Vriska]

Vriska tried not to take Rwaht personally. She tried very, very hard. Clearly he needed this vacation more than even she'd known, if he was throwing language like that around. It was almost like he'd forgotten who she was. She hoped he wouldn't need reminding. She made no attempt to hide the grimace on her face, though.

Wordlessly, Vriska grabbed a stack of papers and started signing. She signed off on the petty cash, co-signed the duty roster, the budget, final reports, recruits etcetera etcetera etcetera and then tossed the whole thing back on the desk. It'd taken her all of ten minutes. "Lunch break! You have earned the considerable honor of accompanying me for lunch. You'll be happy to hear that you're even paying for said lunch." Vriska got up from her seat. "Come. Be a good boy and I'll even let you choose where we're going."

[Rwaht]

Rwaht stared at the Hybrid for a long time. He was using the look several people knew as the "Oh God I'm sorry please don--AAAH" look. Fortunately for Vriska, Rwaht had a soft spot for her, and soft spots did not permit disembowelments. He resisted the urge to tell her that he didn't take lunch breaks. Though her reaction would probably have made it worth it.

"You choose. You're forcing me along, you do the hard work," Rwaht replied blandly, but anyone who knew him could detect the amusement in his voice. He slowly got up and shook his head, before he walked towards the door. "Come on, then. Let's go."

[Vriska]

Victory! Food and fresh air was all they needed. Following Rwaht outside, Vriska quickly took the lead to the place she had in mind. The two of them actually lived relatively close together - a brisk walk could take you from Rwaht's place to Vriska's in less than half an hour. There was a restaurant Vriska loved not far from where they were. It was quiet, private and clean and the food was good too. Rwaht had even accompanied her there several times, so she had no doubt he'd know where they were going.

Vriska's favorite table was open - it was near a wall, away from windows and still managed to benefit from the cool breeze. It was small, too, and she could take up the whole thing if she wanted. With Rwaht there, though, it was only intimate. "Cook me something with wings. Water to drink," she told a waitress. "Do you mind paying? I'm having some repairs done on my house and it costs a bundle."

[Rwaht]

Rwaht followed Vriska silently, his eyes drifting across the streets, ever observant, ever watchful. He didn't expect to see some hateful crime in-progress, or something, but you never knew when you might see a street urchin flicking between streets, between meals, between life and death. And that was something Rwaht could do something about. He took a seat next to Vriska, and when the waiter turned to him, he only shrugged and said,

"Water, bread, cheese. I'll pay." The Praetor was silent, now, even more silent than usual, as he looked at Vriska carefully. He did have news for her, after all. He just didn't know how she would take it.

[Vriska]

Vriska hated a great many things. She'd never tried to list them all - she never would - but one of these things was Rwaht. She didn't hate Rwaht specifically. She just hated it when he got like this. Which was practically every day. Therefore she hated Rwaht. Why did he have to be like this? Stupid lousy friend.

So she would hammer that shell until it broke. "Have you seen Aerith lately?" Suggestive smile eyebrow wiggle.

[Rwaht]

Rwaht looked up when Vriska mentioned Aerith, and for once the Praetor actually looked surprised. He let out an embarrassed half-cough/half-laugh and thanked the waitress when she passed him a glass of water.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did." He absolutely refused, on principle, to say anything more. Besides, he really did need to tell Vriska about his latest trip. He raised his glass and drank, then asked, "So, can you guess where I've been?"

[Vriska]

Victory!!!!!!!!

So many exclamation marks. How did they balance those poles on those dots? Magic, that's how.

While Vriska made a show of considering Rwaht's questions with all the requisite hmmmmmmmm and haaaaaaa, their food arrived. The first thing Vriska did was separate the skin from the meat, and then the meat from the bones, working almost surgically to make each separation as perfect as possible. What vegetables accompanied the poor thing were separated into groups based on color. Only then did Vriska permit herself to skewer a piece of meat and pop it into her mouth. It was good.

"Seeing Aerith some more. All of Aerith. Repeatedly."

[Rwaht]

Rwaht chuckled, and began to eat his sparse meal. He tore off a chunk of bread, popped some cheese into his mouth, and ate them both. He swallowed, and watched Vriska arranging her vegetables in a way which Rwaht imagined she longed to arrange her enemies before similarly skewering them. He just hoped she never tried to skewer him, because he wasn't entirely sure if he'd have the heart to fight back.

"No, though it's a damn good idea," Rwaht muttered with a grin. "No. I was in the City in the Sky. Visiting your brother."

[Vriska]

Vriska almost choked on her chicken. She would have, if she hadn't had practice with Aerith's tea. She had a scathingly witty retort ready for the comment on Aerith, and then Rwaht dropped that bombshell on her. She'd known he'd go there eventually, of course. And she was completely okay with that. Absolutely, perfectly, honestly okay.

A hurricane swept across her face, moving smoothly from puzzlement to horror to joy to wrath to nervousness back to the default grin she used to mask everything else. "How did it go?"

[Rwaht]

Rwaht calmly chomped down on another piece of bread, then drained his glass and looked at Vriska, watching her struggle to hide her emotions. It was hard to hide around Rwaht, of course, since Rwaht spent so much of his time masking his own. By now he was so good at it that he sometimes didn't know how he felt himself.

"It went well. He promised us the Sky Rim, if we can take it, and get people there. And he ended your exile," Rwaht said plainly, waiting to see how Vriska would respond.

[Vriska]

Vriska was a pile of dry tinder. Parts of her had died and shriveled so long ago and she was okay with that. It didn't hurt anymore. She'd even managed to strangle the slight spark of hope Rwaht had brought to her when he'd mentioned her brother but holy shit this is too much I can see my mother again.

Eventually Vriska realized she was just staring at Rwaht with a fork halfway to her mouth. Slowly, delicately, Vriska put it down. Something was breaking inside her. A long time ago Vriska had accepted the fact that she would never go home again and now she could. One moment she was an exile and the next she was not. It shook her. She was literally shaking. With glacial slowness, Vriska brought her knees up to her chin and hugged them to her, curling up into a ball on the chair, shaking so hard she was rocking back and forth, staring at nothing in particular. She was trying very, very hard not to freak out.

She tried to think of what to say. She couldn't thank him for doing this to her, certainly. Nor could she attack him for it - this was just the way he thought, why should he consider her feelings at all? How dare he not consider her feelings? Of course he was considering how she felt - she wanted this. She didn't want this. She wanted this. She hated this.

"I can't go there," she said at last, hating herself for being so weak. Her voice trembled, only iron self-control kept it from shrinking to a squeak.

[Rwaht]

Rwaht didn't say anything.

It wasn't a cop out. He just knew better, or at least, hoped that he knew better. Knew not to push his way into a house of cards that was already about to fall. Best give it a moment to straighten itself out. He kept his quiet as long as Vriska was reacting, watching as she slowly began to shake, pulling her knees to her chest. Rwaht calmly got up and walked to her side, laying one hand on her shoulder. He hoped she wouldn't react poorly, but if she did, she would find that Rwaht's grip could turn from gentle and firm to as fierce as an iron vice, if he wanted it to. There was no expression on Rwaht's face. No judgement, no analysis. He simply looked at Vriska, his face unchanging.

"You can," Rwaht said calmly, is voice kind, but unbending. "And you will, when you're ready. Now come on, let's get you back to my place, hm?"

[Vriska]

Since when had her life started spinning out of control? Vriska had always sought solace in the things she could control. Her food and the way she ate it, where and how she lived, who she spent her time with and how. Everything in her house was spotless and perfectly organized. She allowed very few people inside. People were the one thing she couldn't control, though she did her best. She'd built herself a life on the ground, paying for it in blood and sweat all to carve out her own little niche where Vriska, sick with pain, could curl up and sleep.

She should have expected the world would be calling in rent.

As she felt Rwaht's feather-light touch on her shoulder she went as absolutely still as she could, strangling her panic to a tight quiver as she curled up even tighter. She suspected that if she tried to pull away Rwaht would only pull back. He was simply that kind of person. And if he did, Vriska would lose control.

Briefly, she wondered if she had ever truly been in control of her life.

Rwaht was one of the few people she could tolerate touching her like this. She didn't even like brushing up against people on a crowded street - hell, she didn't like crowded streets in general. But Rwaht had saved her life more than once. The thinking, reasoning part of Vriska trusted him implicitly. That wouldn't stop her from ripping that arm out of its socket if he tried to trap her, because she was simply that kind of person too.

"I can't," she protested mutely. "I won't. I can't face what's up there. You can't make me." That was about as close to verbalizing what she felt as she'd get. Her mother's memorial. Ryst. The Lady Eyr. Her old home. All of them things she had begun to accept that she would, for better or worse, never see again.

Vriska made a vague noise of assent and slowly, carefully uncurled and led the way out of the restaurant, careful to walk just slightly faster than Rwaht. Maybe that way she could pretend she was in control. That she was in any state to be making decisions.

They reached Rwaht's house in what seemed like seconds. She didn't see the people on the street anymore, and yet she moved in between them with unconscious grace, dodging each passerby a hair's breadth to spare and pushing away the rest with her metal arm. It was an odd combination - sort of like a bulldozer if it was also a ballerina.

"You shouldn't have done this," Vriska told him. "You've ruined everything."

[Rwaht]

Rwaht knew how Vriska felt. Both of their lives had been touched by tragedy, after all, though where Vriska's had been nothing more than the cruelty of fate, Rwaht's young nightmares had been caused by nothing more or less than his own childish stupidity. He supposed the lesson had been valuable, if nothing else. Where Vriska shielded herself from her past by covering herself in thorns and flailing like an angry monkey if anything so much as winked 'danger', Rwaht had simply guarded himself in smooth steel armour, that left him free at the joints, and could be taken off, if needed. Of course when it got hot it had a bad habit of burning everyone nearby, but everyone had their little flaws, after all.

Rwaht took Vriska by the arm and gently guided her into his house, brought her into the cramped space that vaguely resembled a living room save for the jumbled piles of paper everywhere, and pointed at a chair.

"Sit."

He waited for her to sit. She sat.

He grabbed a chair, one that was pulled up to a table, the same one where he and Vriska had been sitting just a short while ago, and dragged it over until he was across from Vriska. He sat in it, arms resting on his knees, and looked at her for a long time. There was something about the way he looked at you; not judgemental, or even particularly invasive, but simply the absolute finality in the way that he was looking at you, and nothing else, as though waiting for something. When he wanted to, it made you feel as though your secrets were clamouring to spill out. But that wasn't what he wanted, not this time, and Vriska knew that.

After a long moment, Rwaht sighed and shook his head, briefly.

"What's been ruined, Vriska?" He asked, and he sounded sad. "Tell me what is lost that can never return. Tell me what's been lost today."