Saving Cardverse: Chapter I

"Of course, no one really cares how it all starts. All anyone ever cares about is how it all ends."

"Now that's bleak outlook on life, if I've ever heard one."

The Norwegian turned to glare at the Danish merchant. As always, the Dane was completely oblivious to the irritation of his conversational partner. Not for the first time, the Norwegian wondered if Mattias was really as dense as he acted.

"But why are we talking about depressing stuff anyway?" the ever-happy Mattias continued. "Today's supposed to be a happy day! Well, a happy week..."

The Norwegian stared at him. Right. Today is the Diamond Queen's birthday. And since the Diamond King's birthday is two days after hers, they usually just celebrate for the whole week.

"I just think His Majesty spends too much, especially on this week," the Norwegian grumbled through a last mouthful of Danish pastry, tossing a crumpled napkin into the trash. "Diamonds are so annoying, insisting on all these stupid parties and inviting all those stupid people…"

Mattias only snickered. "Oh Lukas, you just hate talking to strangers. That's all."

Lukas ignored that. "You better get back to work, then. The Diamond King will be expecting his large order soon."

Mattias laughed outright this time. "You have one track mind! Loosen up, man. Besides, I can't really do anything until Waldo brings in the barrels for the wine."

At that, the little bell above the wine shop door rang, and in came Timo. The bouncing Finnish man grinned at his fellow Nordics, with little Kukkamuna scurrying around his ankles. The tiny puppy was yapping happily like the adorable little white fluffball she was, and even stone-faced Lukas cracked a small smile and crouched down to scratch her ears.

"Hello, Mattias! Good morning, Lord Steilsson!" Timo chirped. Kukkamuna yapped again, almost as if she was greeting them as well.

Mattias chuckled. "Good morning to you too, Kukka. It's good to see both you and Timo on such a lovely morning."

Timo smiled. "She's such a cute little thing, isn't she?" The Finn was such a proud mama sometimes...

"She is..." Lukas agreed. "But Timo, I thought I told you to call me Lukas. We have known each other for five years, after all."

"Oh come on, Lukas," Mattias interjected. "This is Timo we're talking about here. I mean, he still calls Waldo 'Mr. Ber.' And he's married to the guy."

Timo blushed. "Well, I'm just giving my husband the respect I think he deserves for taking care of me," he said softly, toeing the ground with a lovesick smile on his face. His fingers ran absentmindedly over the words on his wrist. I'm glad you found your dog, they said. Lukas knew they perfectly matched the words on Berwald's wrist: Excuse me, but have you seen my dog?

Everyone was born with words on their wrists: words that apparently were the first things that their soulmate would say to them. For both Timo and Berwald, the words were red, which meant that they both had already found their soulmates. Meanwhile, everyone with single lonely black tattoos either dreaded or prayed for or were simply terrified of the coming the day that their black tattoos would turn that bright scarlet red.

Lukas thought of the whole thing as really cliché, but he was too polite to roll his eyes at the lovestruck Timo, so he simply continued to scratch Kukkamuna's ears instead. Now if Lukas wasn't already such a liar, he would admit to himself that he was jealous. Timo had found his soulmate, something that Lukas wished for himself. He glanced at the sleeve that covered his own wrist and sighed. He could not get married. Not yet. Not now. Not when he was like this…

"Oh!" Timo interrupted Lukas's inner monologue. "I wanted to tell you, Mattias: Mr. Ber finished making the barrels for your order. He's bringing them in now."

As if on cue, the bell above the wine shop door rang again, and a tall Swedish man stuck his head in. Lukas stood up as the little fluffball he had been petting darted to greet her giant master.

"Mattias, could you help me with the barrels?" Berwald asked in his signature low rough voice as he bent down to pick up a happily wiggling Kukkamuna. "I'm not really sure where you want me to put them." The Swede's words were short and choppy, and sometimes you couldn't hear every part of the word. English was the unofficial universal tongue in the kingdom of Kartoj since its citizens came from everywhere, and Berwald's English still wasn't that great. He was steadily improving though, especially thanks to his adorable Finnish tutor-"wife."

Lukas cut Mattias a look. "What you were saying about not being able to work?"

Mattias laughed. "Whatever. I'm coming out now then, Waldo."

Berwald frowned, scratching Kukkamuna's ears. "Don't call me that..."

Now, at this point, the little bell above the wine shop door rang once more, but no one heard it over the sound of the door itself crashing open and slamming into the wall. And in the doorway stood Emil.

"Careful!" Lukas scolded his younger brother. "You'll break the door!"

Mattias frowned. "Wait, aren't you still supposed to be in class?"

Emil ignored them all and instead shot Lukas a significant look of pure dread. Now, Lukas's face had a tendency not to show emotion, but that didn't mean his insides weren't twisting in fear. Because there was only one thing that could possibly make Emil panic like this.

The Shadow has finally crossed over. It's time to break the spell...

And Lukas absolutely dreaded the aftermath of the broken spell. After all, to break the spell was reveal himself to be a liar...

"Lukas?" Berwald's voice cut in. "You okay?"

Lukas could focus only on Emil. "What happened?" he asked, sounding far calmer than he felt. At least Lukas had braced himself; little did the other Nordics know that Emil's words would carry the news that would change their lives forever.

"Sir Arthur Kirkland is dead."

As she expected, she woke up naked. She had not expected, however, that she would wake up here. Not that it was a bad place to be—after all, the Diamond Castle was known for its perfect rose garden—but the Diamond King would be taking his afternoon walk through here very soon. Quickly fixing her glasses onto her face, she glanced around to make sure she was alone—which she was. As for getting out of here, she knew how to evade the guards, how to get to the Diamond Castle, how to climb up the wall and break into the King's infamous Room…

By George, she spent way too much time pulling pranks on the his Majesty.

In a smooth experienced move, she pulled herself onto the balcony, and for a moment, she admired the view. She supposed the view would have been romantic if she didn't know that the view was presented for less dignified reasons than simple admiration. It was a pity, really, but she supposed that was to be expected from a Frenchman. Sighing, she slowly slid the door open and slipped silently into the infamous Room, shuddering slightly at the thought of being in there barefoot.

Idiot didn't lock his doors again… But she wasn't here to critique Diamond security. She was here to grab some clothes. Now, she knew—from being in this infamous Room far too many times, and never for the reason the King probably wished she was in her for—that the King typically kept sets of female costumes in a secret Closet behind the mirror. The Diamond King had a certain kind of reputation, and she knew perfectly well what the costumes were for. Her old self wouldn't be caught dead wearing something from there, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Not that she, of all people, was desperate or anything, but still.

She wasn't exactly sure what to expect from the Closet, but there was a disturbing about of ladies' footwear. Mostly heels, of course, but there even sandals and flats. What was wrong with this guy? Right, he was French. She shook her head and decided to start sifting through the clothes instead. She noticed that a lot of the ones towards the front—the silk nightgowns, the lace corsets, the teddies—had small tears and looked like they had been through quite a lot. Of course, the normal eye didn't see anything, but her mother had been a seamstress, and she herself embroidered for fun. The point was, she knew worn fabric when she saw it.

But in the back of the Closet, she found a box. And as she rifled through the box, she realised that the costumes in the box weren't worn and torn. Most of them, in fact, still had creases or price stickers on them. But the costumes themselves… Most of them weren't even that bad. In fact, she would probably wear most of them out in public. (Well, her old self wouldn't, but she was sick of refined behaviour, and her inner rebel screamed to be free again.) A police uniform, two nurse's outfits… God help her, was that a leather catsuit? Complete with a whip, how adorable. Alongside the whip were handcuffs, blindfolds… And if she had one iota of intelligence, she would not dig any further.

In the end, she took the more old-fashioned of the two nurse's outfits. The thing was basically a longsleeved blue dress with an apron over it. Tying the black ribbon around her neck, she decided it might not be a bad idea to put everything on, even the ridiculous hat. After all, the Diamonds were partying all week, and it was tradition to wear costumes anyway. But what concerned her the most was the fact that in the connecting bathroom, where she tied up her hair into two pigtails, there was a box of bobby pins, ladies' shaving cream, some pantyhose… Was that a box of—?

She was pinning the last of her bangs into place when she heard commotion outside. Not outside in the hallway, but outside the balcony. Peeking through the window carefully—although no one would think to look up here—she saw that everyone was swarming the gardens. Guards, servants, and there was the Queen of Diamonds herself, with her older brother, the Jack of Diamonds, being overprotective as always… And she almost felt bad for the Queen; this whole mess was happening on the poor girl's birthday. But at least everyone was so occupied with what was in the back that no one would try to stop her from going through the front. But as she scurried through the hallways, the question ate away at her:

How would they explain what they found in the garden?

She shook her head. She couldn't worry about that right now. But at last she saw the main entrance. She hadn't run into anyone, and she was almost home free! But of course, as is the case with anything far too easy, there were two figures in the doorway, blocking her way to freedom—

The two figures were speaking in low rapid French. Or rather one of them was, the other didn't seem to be in the mood to talk. But everyone in the Diamond Palace was French—or, at the very least, fluent in the language—out of necessity. The Diamond King, after all, had earned the nickname "the French King" from his apparent refusal to use English. Fortunately for our daring escapee, her French was perfect. She refused to actually say anything in it, of course, but she could translate everything in her head. Like what these two figures were saying:

"You really do look stressed, my lord," the more talkative of the figures said. On closer inspection, it seemed to be a servant girl. A French servant girl, no less, batting her vapid and insipid little lashes at—

Her breath caught. It was the King of Diamonds.

God in Heaven, why him? Why me? And why now?

"Merci, Olivette," the French King muttered back politely. It was clear that he was too stressed to flirt or even converse as politely as he normally would. Was he that upset that he couldn't take his usual afternoon walk because of the people in the garden?

"You ought to have someone...relieve all that stress..." the servant girl continued in French, her tone turning suggestive. Olivette reached for the King's arm, which was crossed over his chest. The other arm—or rather, his hand—was covered his face. The King made no move away from the servant, perhaps because he wasn't really paying any attention to her at all. And suddenly, our daring escapee was mad at this little servant girl. He was clearly upset, and all this...this wench could think of was the bedroom?!

First of all, how unprofessional; that is your boss. And second of all, he is your King! Not some random stableboy for you to seduce with the look in your eyes! Honestly, if you're going to pick someone to tumble in the hay with, at least pick someone on your level. Do you honestly think that lowly of your King?!

She could not stand for this insolence any longer. Now, in all her anger, she was conscious of the fact that this was not her kingdom, and it was hardly her place to assume what the King wanted for himself. After all, he was French, so perhaps he did want comfort in someone's arms. But as French as the King was, even he knew that there were certain images that needed to be upheld. Even he knew embracing such a comfort would not be good, not for his state of mind nor the state of the kingdom. After all, how would people react if he was dallying with servant girls in a time of crisis? But he really wasn't paying attention, so, recognising a need for intervention while keeping her own place in mind, she did the only thing her current station would allow.

She interrupted. In English, no less: the very language the French King despised.

And since it was the ladies' man Diamond King, she decided to be snooty. (After all, women were never snooty with him; they were usually too busy melting into a giggling mess. So that'll show him.) She walked briskly toward the pair, and not sparing him a glance but still addressing him, she walked right in between the would-be lovers.

"I'll just leave you two to flirt then," she said nonchalantly, keeping up her brisk pace. And with the moment gone, the servant girl turned an embarrassed shade of red, probably out of fear from being reported. The King on the other hand…

"Hey, wait a second!" he called after her in French, the servant girl all but forgotten. At this point, our daring escapee was halfway across the bridge over the moat. (Well, these days, it was more of a pond that went all the way around the castle, but whatever.) But she heard running footsteps behind her! Great, she wasn't expecting the King to try and follow her... Oh well, either way, he didn't get very far. Now she wasn't exactly sure what happened, but suddenly the footsteps stopped. There was a startled cry, a splash, and—

When she turned around, the typically dignified King of Diamonds was in the moat, and he had somehow managed to surface with a lilypad on his head. An indignant frog leaped off of the lilypad on his head, splashing water into the French King's face. The servant girl was panicking, screaming in French and asking if "her" Lord was okay, but she may as well not have even been present at all. Because the King was not staring at the servant girl; he was staring at her. And she was staring right back at him.

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Francis Bonnefoy, King of Diamonds, was a beautiful man, even if he was French. His hair was often compared to gold silk. He had an eerily good fashion sense and was notorious for being so impeccably dressed. In fact, he had sisters and an adopted cousin that ran a boutique in the city that sold clothes that he designed himself. The point was, though, that Francis Bonnefoy was never less than perfect in the looks department. And so when she saw him: sitting there, in the water, with soaked clothes, algae in his hair, said hair over his eyes, that lilypad on his head… By God, was he blushing?! He never blushes.

She had a most unusual reaction to His Highness indeed. It was almost as if she could not help herself. She felt certain muscles, ones she had thought long since dormant, beginning to twitch. More specifically, the corners of her lips curled slightly upward. Suddenly, she was smiling. Then she was grinning. Then a snicker escaped her lips, and although she clapped a hand over her mouth, she couldn't take it anymore. She lost it, dropping her hand and doubling over, doing things she never thought she would again. She was laughing; she was crying; she was snorting terribly. She choking and gasping trying to breathe…

And that was how she left the Diamond palace: her tear-stained face split into a grin, and she walked briskly forward, smiling and laughing softly to herself.

The Shadow has finally crossed over. It's time to break the spell.

Great. Just great. And here Vasile was thinking that he could just sit back and relax, waiting for the phone call that the Queen of Diamonds wanted her daily literature lesson. Oh sure, the Romanian didn't exactly want to go, but a job was a job. Still. All the palace people always gave him weird looks… Maybe it was the eyes? Or the teeth? Geez, why couldn't people just accept that this was how he normally dressed? (Well, normal as a half-vampire with magical powers could be.) Either way, Vasile was hoping for an at least somewhat normal evening. But no. Queen Elise had canceled her lesson today—or rather, her brother the Jack did. Because Sir Arthur Kirkland, the Queen of Spades, had died this morning.

Great. One down, six to go.

Of course, he had heard all of the rumours surrounding the Spade Queen's death. He had been arguing with the King of Diamonds (in Spanish. Sir Kirkland refused to use French, and King Francis refused to use English. So Spanish it was.) It was a perfectly normal behaviour for the two of them, and then Sir Kirkland had stormed out of the room. Of course, the French King thought nothing of it until he didn't come back for an hour. Normally, Sir Kirkland always came back within the next ten minutes to reassert his point, or at the very least, Sir Kirkland came back to tell the King he was sick of him and that he was going home. But not this time. And so, when King Francis Bonnefoy set out to find Sir Kirkland… Actually, the King never found him. Instead, there was nothing more than a bloody sword atop a pile of clothing. Sir Kirkland's clothing…

Of course, the normally peaceful kingdom of Kartoj was thrown into absolute chaos. The King of Spades and his Jack were rightfully distressed, but their public statements were slightly shocking. Or rather, the King's statement was. King Alfred F. Jones, a recently graduated Academy prodigy, was known for his childish demeanor and sneaking out of the palace to play basketball with peasant children at least once a week. But on today's TV news, he was without his usual million dollar grin and loud, loud laugh. Instead, his posture was straight—he was also notorious for slouching—and he seemed surprisingly mature. He was also surprisingly rational about the whole thing, stating that he did not blame anyone in the Diamond Kingdom for his Queen's disappearance.

That's right, King Alfred only believed his Queen missing, not dead. He had pointed out that no body had been found, and all evidence had been quite circumstantial. He also stated that he did not wish to attack the Diamonds, but he did wish to speak with King Francis. Of course, the King of Diamonds had conceded. King Francis didn't want war either, and he was willing to tell King Alfred everything he knew…

A knock on the door interrupted Vasile's thoughts. ( It was about 5:30 AM. He was still awake because as a half-vampire, he didn't need as much sleep as a true human.) Peeking through the peephole, he saw a girl in long pigtails and—Was that an old-fashioned nurse's dress? He didn't recognise her right away; he hadn't seen her like this in about five years.

When he did recognise her… Well, he didn't think she'd be showing up so soon, but then again, it was time. And so Vasile opened the door and stepped aside. His apartment was dark and a little messy, but he knew she had a basement just like it. It was only this that stopped him from feeling self-conscious over having a girl over at his place.

"Great," he said to her, closing the door. Any other girl, and he might have bothered with a proper greeting. Or a flustered attempt to clean his apartment. "Now all we need is—"

The door flung open again, smacking Vasile into the wall.

"I'm here," Lukas gracefully stepped through the doorway. He frowned. "Where's Vasile?"

"Right here," Vasile groaned out from behind the door, rubbing his nose. "My head…"

"Good going, Lukas," Emil said, rolling his eyes. "But I still don't get why I have to be here. I mean, I told you I was cool with all this magic mumbo-jumbo, but I didn't really want to get involved. Especially not at this ungodly hour in the morning…"

Lukas was about to scold his brother for being so rude when the girl stepped out of the shadows. Emil's jaw dropped, glancing at Lukas speechlessly.

A rare smile graced Lukas's face as he moved to stand in front of her, bowing slightly. "Hello, Your Majesty."

A/N: Welcome, one and all, to my long-term project. I was seriously contemplating posting it so soon after all my other oneshots, but then I thought...

"You know what? This has been sitting in my drive long enough. After all, even though I posted it on my tumblr, it's not like people go on tumblr to read fanfiction."

I figured I'd be more likely to get some feedback here instead of on tumblr.

Still contemplating whether to post all the chapters I have all at once, or to space them out so I have more time to write.

Thoughts?