Written to some of lilfluff‘s prompts.
The characters uh. Have something to do with wyste‘s ongoing very long fanfic. That is, ah,
are completely original. Really.
Jaime had gotten himself “arrested” by simply being in the wrong (right) place at the wrong (right) time, an occurrence that had been happening far too much lately. A suggestion that he happened to be maybe A Little Bit Magical had gotten him put in the right cells, and then it had taken just four or five mundane tricks to assure that he wasn’t actually stuck in the cell.
It sounded simple if you didn’t think about the weeks of planning and four people worth of preparation that had gone into this, all of which had involved quite a bit of arguing, more than a bit of negotiation, and a tiny bit of blackmail.
Jaime had gotten his mission. Now he just had to get out of it.
And the lock was proving slightly more tricky than he’d expected.
He was swearing quietly at the door when it swung open. He slid his lockpicks up his sleeves and tried to look disgruntled and imprisoned.
“We’ve got to get you out of here.” The blond face on the other side of the door was definitely not a guard. He was also thinner, more drawn, and paler than the last time Jaime had seen him.
“Falco?” He stared at his old enemy, his old ally.
“It’s a good disguise, well done, but the moment they have the seer taste your magic, you’re done for. Come on, you’ve got to leave soon, before someone notices.” Falco shoved a pile of incense-smelling robes at Jaime. “Put these on, nobody will notice one more of them marching out the back way. They all skiv out there for a smoke, anyway.”
“You’ve got to come with me. You’re half the reason I’m in here! Come on.” He grabbed Falco’s arm.
There was hardly anything there, and Falco didn’t even try to pull away. “I…” He closed his eyes and struggled to speak. After a moment, he managed to mouth can’t.
Jaime’s heart went cold. They’d heard the enemy was doing those things, but- “I’m sorry, Falco.” He took the robe, waited until Falco had relaxed.
He didn’t like that he even knew this curse. It was a nasty one, and it left a stain on you just to think about t. But it, unfortunately, had its uses in the rebellion.
When Falco was no longer in control of his own body, Jaime handed him the robes back. “Put these on. You’re a lot less conspicuous that way.”
They got out by the back way, Jaime spelling cell doors open on the way. In the ensuing havoc, they’d have at least an hour before anyone noticed Falco was gone.
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