Locke woke the mid-afternoon after his 27th birthday feeling a little squeamish.
He figured it was due to the fact that the first thing he heard was Sabin's voice.
"Locke! It's about time you got up, did you get so smashed-- whoa."
"I apologize, m'lady, I must have the wrong room."
Locke sat up. He felt a little disoriented, but wondered if somehow in the process of getting piss-drunk he had wound up taking a girl back to the bed in the room he had been given in Figaro Castle for the night.
Nope. No girl. Hm.
He looked over at Sabin. "You woke me up, man," he said, but he thought he heard a different voice coming from somewhere. He looked around, confused. An echo, maybe?
Locke looked back over at Sabin. "What?"
Then, Sabin snickered. Then, he chuckled. And finally, he all out laughed... backing into the hallway and straight into the door across the way from Locke's room, sliding down until he was sitting on his butt, still laughing.
Locke wondered what was so goddamned funny.
The door behind Sabin opened, sending the man nearly sprawling backwards. Setzer appeared, dripping wet like he had just gotten out of a shower. "What's all the-- whoa."
More damn 'whoas'. Locke was feeling quite irritable by this time. "Look, what's--" Damn that echo!
"Setzer, what did you put in that cake?"
Ah, Sabin was useful, for once. Locke remembered. Rum cake, so Setzer had claimed. But a special kind of rum.
One that ensured that Locke would 'have a surprise in the morning'.
Locke began to panic, slightly.
"Oh my, that's not what I thought it would do," Setzer said, apparently trying to stifle a laugh.
He didn't like the sound of that.
Two seconds later, Locke was standing in front of a mirror, staring incredulously at the person staring back at him. "SETZER I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"
That echo again. Oh wait, no. That wasn't an echo. THAT WAS LOCKE'S VOICE!
"But Locke, I think it suits you, really," Setzer said, walking into the room and standing behind Locke, looking in the mirror as well. "The eyelashes..."
"The soft curves of your face..."
"Your tits!" Setzer finally said, reaching his arms around Locke and grabbing his... her? No, we will stay with the male pronouns because that will make for awkwardness later. Oh yes. Like right now. Because Setzer grabbed Locke's newly formed rack.
"Hey!" Locke cried, twisting away. Hair flew in his face, damnit. "Jackass."
"Such awful language for such a pretty mouth," Sabin teased.
"Not you too!" Locke wailed. "SETZER! Fix this!"
Setzer merely shrugged. "That rum was supposed to increase your attractiveness for women... maybe you'd get laid... but I see, well, you know what I see."
Locke sighed and put his hands on his hips.
"Go see Edgar, I'll bet he'll think of something," Sabin suggested.
Locke wasn't about to go see Edgar like this. Setzer insisted that he shower and primp himself first, to be a pleasant sight for Edgar's court so early in the morning. Locke punched him, and then went to take a shower anyway.
After a number of adventures -- including forgetting completely that he had to put the toilet seat DOWN now and couldn't piss standing up, goddamnit -- Locke re-emerged with his wet hair now hanging over his eyes and across his shoulders irritatingly.
He wore his normal clothes, which prompted Setzer to shake his head. "You can't wear men's clothes like that," he said, holding out a small bundle. "Took the opportunity to get you something from Celes. You're both about the same size."
Locke was a little pissed off that Celes knew about what had happened, but he didn't care. Anything had to be better than his normally-comfortable jeans now being irritatingly tight around the hips. Damnit.
Of course, Locke was wrong. What Celes had donated to him was a bright red sundress. It didn't make Locke happy, but he had to admit... it was comfortable.
And so, his grayish-brown hair still hanging loosely, dressed in a bright red sundress, and padding along barefoot because he was too pissed off to try to find matching socks or put on shoes for god's sake, Locke stormed into Edgar's throne room.
"Your majesty, you said you'd be married by the end of the month, which is tomorrow, the people are--," the Chancellor drabbled on until catching sight of the pissed-off Locke now present in the court room. "Excuse me, has his Highness granted you presence?"
"I don't care," Locke said irritably. "Edgar, I have to talk to you--"
Locke was horrified to see that Edgar was checking him out.
Edgar put on one of those casual smirks that Locke knew so well. Oh shit. "What brings such a gorgeous woman into my court at this time of day?"
Locke seethed. Did Edgar really have to hit on every woman with a pulse? "I need you to help me," Locke insisted quickly.
Edgar raised his eyebrows. "With what, m'lady?"
"I'm a WOMAN!"
Edgar smiled. One of those smiles. "Yes, I can see that, and an absolutely ravishing one, too."
Rolling his eyes, Locke continued, "But I'm not really a woman!"
This prompted yet another Suggestive Eyebrow Raise™ from Edgar. "And you need help with becoming a woman, m'lady?"
"Your majesty, not in the throne room!" The Chancellor waved an admonishing finger at Edgar.
Locke sighed. "But that's exactly it! I'm a lady and I don't want to be!"
Edgar, with one majestic sweeping motion, was off the throne and escorting Locke out of the room and into the adjacent office. With a hand on his shoulder. It did, in a very disturbing way, make Locke feel a bit better.
That feeling was entirely lost when Edgar pinned him against the wall in the office and kissed him.
Locke squirmed, thinking that this must all be a very bad dream.
He had to admit, though, it was a very nice kiss.
NO! Wait, no it wasn't! This was Edgar for godess's sake!
"Stop!" Locke cried, wriggling in Edgar's grasp.
"I have been terribly improper," Edgar said quickly, "Not even asking your name, my dear."
His dear. Locke begged whatever gods there might be to just strike him down at that moment. Unfortunately, it was not to be. "Locke," he mumbled incoherently.
"Locke, eh? Are you from Kohlingen? That seems to be a common name in that area, I have a good friend who's named Locke."
Locke wanted to deck Edgar. So he did.
"Ow," Edgar whined. "But that's my kind of girl," he added after a moment to make sure his hair hadn't been messed up. "Will you marry me?"
Locke was now convinced that he was stuck in a very, very bad dream.
"You see, I promised my Chancellor I'd be married by the end of the month since there's been such a clamour from the kingdom... and well, the end of the month is kind of tomorrow... you'd get to be Queen."
"Yeah, I'll marry you, the moment you have sex with me!" Locke answered sarcastically, and very spitefully.
So Edgar proceeded to very convincingly have sex with Locke. Sorry kids, no NC-17 slashfests here, because not only does this author not write het scenes, she also wanted to make this minific fun for the whole family. Or just George W. Bush. Whatever.
They had very lovely sex all through the afternoon and into most of the night. Finally, Edgar got tired -- Locke didn't, he found it was rather much easier being a girl; and plus he had convinced himself it was all a bad dream anyway, so he was technically getting his required sleep while this was all going on, right? -- and they spent a nice comfy night cuddling and sharing the kind of kisses that make fangirls go "squee!"
Locke had a horrible revelation when Edgar woke up.
He found out that he was smiling.
And that, just maybe, this wasn't such a bad dream after all.
So he and Edgar got married. It was a rather nice ceremony, Locke had a revealing strapless white gown with lacy sleeves and a long train that dragged on the ground. He felt more beautiful than he had in his whole life, even if it did completely baffle Setzer and Sabin who were forced to stand there through the entire ceremony and not laugh.
Locke got to wear a very beautiful little crown with all sorts of shiny jewels inset into it, and it made him happy in a weird way because he didn't have to steal it. In fact, he could steal whatever he wanted now and not get in trouble for it, because he was the Queen of Figaro.
They spent their honeymoon in Thamasa and had lots and lots of entirely lovely sex and romantic walks on the beach... and Locke even cooked dinner twice, and Edgar only complained once. Probably because Locke had punched him the first time.
Edgar and Locke Figaro came back to the castle and spent their first night in the King and Queen's chambers as an officially married couple. They had more lovely sex until Setzer's cake wore off suddenly.
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