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Ambrosius hated quests like this, quests that forced him to endure the dark underbelly of the Outer City, the seediest and most downtrodden area of the Kingdom, forcing him to keep his hood pulled low lest he be recognized and mugged, or worse, beseeched for help.
He hated it, it tore at his heart to see his people so beaten and poverty-stricken, to be unable to help, useless in his shiny armor. But dead-end lead after dead-end lead had left him with no other choice but to resort to taking the trip, to waiting in a shady alleyway lit only by the flickering purples of a neon sign, smoke swirling around his ankles and the stench of trash and sweat and cigarettes making him wrinkle his nose as he waited for his informant to arrive, eyes darting around in case of any unwanted visitors. He was the most effective knight for a reason, and if the Director or even his fellow knights learned exactly what, or rather who, that reason was, he’d be ruined.
Speaking of which.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in and pissed all over.” an irritatingly familiar accent spoke from behind him, and Ambrosius turned his head to greet his wayward informant, biting back a scoff at the provocative way he leaned against a half-rotted door frame, just waiting for him to notice.
“Ballister.” he greeted tersely, “You weren’t followed?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ballister grinned, bathed in the purple neon glow. He was free of his usual cloak, wearing only a tight black turtleneck and a fitted pair of pants, knee-high boots with heels that gave him at least two inches of height, though still he remained a touch shorter than Ambrosius, “Your faith in me is, as ever, flattering.”
Ballister had a handsome face, open and sweet with his soft lips and big dark eyes, but behind that facade hid a dangerous character, a deceptively soft rose hiding needle-sharp thorns and stinging venom, his pretty face and gentle smile concealing the ruthless criminal within. He wore the style of the Outer City commoners, silver piercings adorning his face and ears, dark hair shorn into an stylish undercut, the slightest bit of kohl drawing attention to his pretty doe eyes in a way that must have been intentional. If he were anyone else, Ambrosius might have been taken in by his sweet face, his deceptively hapless expression, the dashing scar across his eye, the carefully manufactured image of trustworthiness that had earned Ballister his continued survival in the cutthroat underworld of the Outer City.
But Ambrosius knew better. Ballister was cunning, devious, a scoundrel and a blackguard, the kind of person a descendant of Gloreth should never even dream of associating with, let alone be seen with. But he was also the best source of information Ambrosius had, a source with eyes in the dark corners of the City, ears to the shadows, and contacts in places even the most corrupt of knights dared not tread. So though it took much patience, Ambrosius had to put up with Ballister, along with his incessant flirting and cocky swagger and lilting Outer City accent.
“No need to look so pinched, sunshine.” Ballister crooned, pushing into Ambrosius’ space with a flirtatious hand on his chest plate, eyes lidded and lips curved in a lazy smirk, “Did you come all this way just to see little old me?”
“Do you have what I asked for?” Ambrosius stared stoically down at him, used to the scoundrel’s antics, his rakish manner and maddening arrogance. Ballister only rolled his eyes at his stoicism, seeming amused by it, like Ambrosius were a child playing pretend.
“Depends.” he tapped gloved fingers against his chest before backing away, a sway to his hips that Ambrosius stubbornly did not look at, “You got what I asked for?” Ambrosius reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll of parchment, a list of the city’s elite with ties to certain people in the painkiller industry, and Ballister snatched it happily. He didn’t know why Ballister wanted that information, but more and more these days he found he didn’t care to agonize over his motivations, as long as the man didn’t cause too much harm.
“The list, as requested.” Ambrosius said, watching Ballister examine the scroll eagerly, a keen glint in his eyes, “Now talk.”
“Oh, so commanding.” he purred, slipping the scroll into his belt and grinning at him, “Alright then, pretty boy. You want to know who’s been killing guards in the Mid-City, right?”
“Obviously.” Ambrosius barely restrained a sigh, “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
“Well, I can tell you right now that you aren’t going to like the answer.” Ballister got a strange look in his eye then, like he was actually concerned for Ambrosius, “You sure you want to know?”
“Whether or not I like it is irrelevant.” Ambrosius narrowed his eyes, “Stop messing around and tell me.”
“Very well.” Ballister shrugged, shaking off whatever melancholy had briefly claimed him, “The serial killer you’re looking for is right under your nose.”
“Meaning?”
“Why, it’s your very own Director.” Ballister gave a small smile, like he’d been vindicated in some way, “The criminal you’ve been so doggedly chasing is the Director herself, now isn’t that interesting?”
“No.” Ambrosius denied immediately, instinctively, “That’s ridiculous, stop playing around, Ballister.”
“Oh, but I speak only the truth.” Ballister held a hand to his heart in mock sincerity, “It makes sense, doesn’t it? All the leads she gave you which turned out to be dead ends, all the prisoners proclaiming their innocence whom she insisted were guilty, all the victims conveniently being killed so soon after she assigned them to- gah!” Ambrosius grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him clear off his feet and slamming him against the wall, baring his teeth and glaring daggers as Ballister gasped at the impact.
“You’re lying.” he hissed, their faces inches apart, “You’re lying, knave.”
“N-Now why would I do that?” Ballister asked, having the gall to give a breathless little laugh, hands coming up to curl oh-so-lightly around Ambrosius’ wrists, “If I lie, you stop coming to see me, and I really look forward to our little rendezvous, you know. Sure I tease and I poke at you, sunshine, but I never lie to you. You know that.”
And the worst part was, he was right. In the years they’d been exchanging favors and information, Ballister had done a lot of questionable things, including framing him for thievery, making him complicit in multiple revenge murders, stealing from him, tricking him into grave robbing, and even trying to get Todd Sureblade addicted to a potent painkiller. He’d coerced and exaggerated and omitted, played tricks and made trouble, dragged Ambrosius into more pulse-pounding dangerous adventures than he’d known in all his years of knighthood…
But he’d never lied to him, not even once.
“The Director can’t be the one responsible.” he shook his head, denial springing to his lips, “She’s the one who gave me this quest, why send me after herself?”
“To keep you busy, I imagine.” Ballister shrugged, “Maybe she hopes to frame an enemy of hers, or maybe she wants to test how you’d react to a task you can’t complete. Or maybe, like all the other guards she’s killed, you were too dangerous to live, too clever, and she hoped you’d be killed in a way that let her blame it on the commoners. She’s a right tit, that lady.”
“This is ridiculous.” Ambrosius reluctantly released Ballister, distantly watching the man straighten himself out, “If what you’re saying is true, then this… she… she can’t be this… this…”
“She’s always been like this.” Ballister scowled then, a flash of genuine anger darting across his eyes, a hint that this was personal, “A cowardly little snake who uses other people to get her way, no matter what.”
“You clearly dislike her on a personal level.“ Ambrosius sneered, grasping for anger rather than this terrible shock, “And you’re not above framing an innocent person, I’ve seen you do it, you’ve framed me before.”
“Perhaps.” Ballister acquiesced, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a USB and a phone, “But if I was lying, would I have this much evidence? Normally if I frame someone I don’t put in so much effort, even if they really deserve it. Go on, pretty boy, take a look.” Ambrosius glared suspiciously, but reluctantly snatched the so-called evidence from his hand, watching the footage and reading the documents therein with a critical eye, searching for any hint that what Ballister said was false.
He didn’t find any, and his heart dropped in his chest.
“This is…” his mind reeled, his eyes going wide as he rewatched Ballister’s proof, his undeniable proof that this was real, that Ballister spoke only the truth, “But… But this… How can this be…”
“You’re… really surprised.” Ballister noted, that odd note of concern back in his eyes, “She’s got her claws deep in you knights, hasn’t she?”
“Oh, forgive me that we don’t suspect the actual Director of being so monstrous as to send her own people to their deaths!” he pocketed the evidence and ran his hands frantically through his hair, displacing his hood as he began to pace, “This is insane, this is completely insane! I can’t just present this evidence to her, she’ll have it destroyed, o-or do something to keep me silent! And what if she asks me where I got the information, what am I supposed to do!? If I tell her, I’m betraying you, and if I don’t tell her, she could find out on her own and you’d still be in danger!”
“Oh how sweet.” Ballister seemed unreasonably pleased, “Are you worried about m-“
“Man, shut the fuck up for a second!” he closed his eyes and yanked at his hair, “You are really not helping, my entire worldview is being shaken like a maraca and your smug attitude is not helping! How can I ever trust anyone again after this? How can I trust anything she says, how can I accept any missions from her knowing she’s a… a-a-a villain! How am I supposed to take her down on my own, even if I am a descendant of Gloreth, she’s powerful and a personal friend of the Queen, no one will take my side against-“
The sound of clanking footsteps cut into his rant, the telltale sound of a patrol of knights, and Ambrosius’ blood ran cold.
“Shit.” he swore, freezing in his panic. If his fellow knights saw him here, consorting with a ‘lowly’ Outer City criminal, doing deals with a wanted man, his reputation would be tarnished, all his past good deeds pulled out and reexamined with a merciless eye, questioning everything he’d ever done, invalidating countless good deeds. He’d be ruined, he’d be punished, he’d be viewed as a man of ill-repute, a let-down, a cautionary tale, a disappointment-
“Bloody hell-“ Ballister suddenly twisted his fingers into his hair and pulled him down into a harsh kiss, gripping him tight and holding him in place as the clanking footsteps came closer, and Ambrosius’ mind went blank for a few startled moments before his body caught up. He nearly wrenched himself away, nearly reared back and punched Ballister in the throat for daring to molest him so boldly, daring to-to kiss him without his express go-ahead, but Ballister pulled away just long enough to speak.
“Kiss me back, you idiot, unless you want to look even more suspicious.” he hissed into his mouth, his lip piercing cold and foreign against his lips, clicking against his teeth, and something deep in Ambrosius’ repressed little heart quavered as he realized what Ballister’s intent was. The footsteps were nearly on top of them now, but Ambrosius scarcely registered their presence, instead finding himself gripping Ballister’s waist and tugging him flush against him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and something molten ignited in him.
He surged into the kiss, and Ballister’s lips parted easily for him, tugging at his hair with a quiet moan that shot straight to Ambrosius’ cock, and he groaned without meaning to, sliding his arms further around Ballister’s waist and practically pinning him against the dirty alley wall. He pressed his tongue into Ballister’s mouth on pure instinct, his whole body lighting up when Ballister accepted it with a shuddering moan, letting Ambrosius dominate the kiss and lick at the inside of his mouth like he was savoring a fine meal. The metal tang of a tongue piercing did something funny to Ambrosius’ insides, Ballister’s smoke-and-belladonna scent filling his senses, his tapered waist fitting perfectly in his hands, the sting of his hair-pulling like liquid fire down his spine. A powerful leg wrapped needily around his waist, the hard line of Ballister’s cock pressing noticeably against Ambrosius’ unarmored thigh, and he felt the wild urge to sink to his knees and take that cock into his mouth just to hear the sound Ballister would make-
“T-They’re gone.” Ballister’s voice was rough, hoarse, a low ruined husk and Ambrosius wanted more. He rumbled lowly, chasing his lips, his entire world narrowed now to Ballister and his hips and his mouth and his tongue-
“Mn, ah, pretty boy-“ Ballister wrenched his mouth away, gasping out a riling keen when Ambrosius only focused on his bared throat instead, mouthing and suckling at a particular spot that seemed to make the cocky criminal tremble, knees going weak enough to force him to lean on Ambrosius, hanging off of his shoulders as he tried to gather his words, “P-Pretty boy, sunshine, they’re… oh… ah, mn, A-Ambro- Goldenlion!” The urgency in his tone snapped Ambrosius out of whatever spell he’d been under, and he froze with his arms wrapped tight around Ballister’s waist, his teeth poised to sink into the tender flesh of his throat.
“What…?” he felt dazed, flushed and warm and a little unsteady, “I… Huh…?”
“They’re gone.” Ballister repeated, those damned doe eyes peering hazily up at him, his lips reddened and kiss-swollen, a vivid bruise beginning to appear on his neck, “We’re safe now, they’ve passed.”
“They…” Reality slammed into him like a freight train, and he wrenched himself away from Ballister, lurching backwards fast enough that he nearly tripped on his own cloak. Ballister lifted a hand to the spot on his neck that Ambrosius had practically gnawed at, a strangely vulnerable look on his face that vanished just as quickly as it formed.
“Well, that’s gonna leave a mark.” Ballister seemed to recover himself much quicker than he did, voice slightly raspy as he lowered his hand, smirking as Ambrosius had an internal meldown, “I can safely say I wasn’t expecting that from my goody-two-shoes knight. Such power, such passion, such raw unbridled-“
“Shut up, shut up.” Ambrosius hissed, pulling his hood up around his face and trying to calm his racing heart, “It-It was to escape detection, it was a ploy, nothing more!”
“Of course.” that maddening smirk remained, and Ambrosius knew he had to get out of there when his instinct was to kiss it away, “But alas, you got your information, your proof. Is there anything… else you require of me?” He batted his lashes, biting his lip, and Ambrosius’ stomach twisted with some confusing mix of anger, shame, and desire.
He had to get the fuck out of here. He had to get away from this man and regain some clarity of mind.
“No.” he said shortly, making an effort to gather himself, “You’ve been… helpful. I’ll be sure that the Director never learns of your involvement in this matter.”
“How chivalrous of you.” Ballister chuckled, “Careful, you’ll make me swoon, my valiant protector. Would you walk me home, too? I’m so frightened of the dark, anything could happen to a pretty man like me all alone and defenseless.”
“You are anything but defenseless, knave.” Ambrosius said flatly, “And last time I followed you home I woke up in a bathtub full of ice with a missing kidney.”
“Oh please, it was nothing so dramatic.” Ballister waved dismissively, and Ambrosius wanted to shake him.
“Nothing so drama-You stole my freaking kidney!”
“It was to pay for a sick child’s medical care.” Ballister gave him a pout, but Ambrosius knew him well enough to smell his horseshit a mile away.
“No the fuck it wasn’t.”
“Alright, you got me.” Ballister laughed, “It was actually to fund a new heating system for an orphanage, to keep those poor children from freezing in the wint-“
“Try again, liar.”
“Alright alright, it was to replace the failing kidney of Old Berenice, that poor sweet old lady who took that terrible fall weeks before.” Ballister grinned a sunny grin, all sweetness and sugar, and Ambrosius couldn’t help the tug in his stomach, the insane urge to do something foolish, like take this man home and introduce him to his parents.
“You’re so full of shit.” he huffed rather than voice any of that aloud, but his lip twitched against his will, and he prayed the insufferable man didn’t see, “One day I’ll get you to tell me what the hell you did with my kidney.”
“Perhaps you will.” Ballister surprised Ambrosius then by taking his hand, giving a dramatically gallant bow and pressing his lips to his bare knuckles, the soft tickle of his mustache sending pangs of heat straight to Ambrosius’ stomach.
“Uh…” Ambrosius stared dumbly, finding himself lost for words. He’d seen this move performed so many times by his fellow knights to the lads and ladies they fancied, he’d even done it himself a few times, but never once had he been on the receiving end. It felt… nice, although he’d sooner rip out his remaining kidney than admit it.
“Fare thee well, noble knight.” Ballister grinned against his hand, and before Ambrosius could even open his mouth, he’d melted into the shadows of the City, gone just as silently as he’d appeared. Ambrosius was left alone in the alleyway, the wind blowing his cloak, the smoke swirling around his ankles as if to mock him, to remind him that he didn’t belong here, that he was intruding in a world he could never understand, a world he didn’t have the right to understand. He and Ballister were too different, too at odds, too deeply entrenched in their own worlds to be able to reach a hand out to the other. They could never truly be friends, or… or anything more, unless Ballister renounced his criminal ways and his hatred for the Institute, or Ambrosius renounced his knighthood and loyalty to the Kingdom.
No, they could never be together in any sense, unless something drastic changed.
Still, the scent of smoke and belladonna lingered, haunting him even after he returned home.