Backstory: New life, new clothes

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

Life would never be the same, I reflected as I wandered down the streets of the Clothiers' District. My steward, William, made sure of that: minutes after riding into the city, he'd had my head spinning with details of furnishings, recreation, and, most emphatically, how I dressed. It had taken the better part of an hour to convince him that not all of my money need be turned over to Eglantine house; and when he'd given up trying to convince me, he'd given me the address of a more humble clothier on Night's Doorstep--although even the "humble" clothes of the City of Elua were better than anything I'd donned.

Although this was the city of my birth, I was strangely disoriented navigating the narrow streets; even in my finest uniform, on the back of the well-bred riding horse William had procured for me, I felt underdressed and unprepared. I could only hope I wasn't making a fool of myself by gawking.

And somewhere, in the back of my mind, it registered that I'd needed the new riding-horse because I would never be astride a destrier again. My eyes wandered down to where my right hand should have been on my thigh, and I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat.

On to the clothier's, then, and on to my new life.

[Joie de Mornay]

The day was unusally warm, even for a pre-spring day, and I found myself in the mood to leave the townhome and branch off into the clothiers district to secure a new dress or two for when Spring had actually arrived. Giving a small smile to an elderly man I stepped out of his path and into the street slightly, attempting to give him ample room should my skirts tangle in the polished, twisted length of drift wood he used for a walking cane.

My attention was lifted from the ground where he was stepping as a shadow overlapped my own path, and I came to an instant halt to let a carriage pass. Elua! There were a lot of people out and about today, apparently with the same intention tha I had. Glancing up the street I scanned quietly, catching sight of a mounted figure dressed in a polished uniform, staring around him as if he'd never seen the City before. My lips quirked in amusement before I could stop them, though by the time he'd ridden closer I had myself back under control, though my features reflected the general happiness I usually wore.

"Do you need any help?" I said, lifting my voice enough that he could hear me clearly as I stepped onto the side of the road once more, my face turned slightly towards his as I glanced up.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

William's handwriting was atrocious; I blinked down at the note he'd written, creamy paper glaring in the sunlight, and gave up. I was beginning to wonder how someone of such dubious dexterity had even become a steward when I glanced up, and found someone looking back.

Later, I would learn to appreciate the more enjoyable aspects of a lady at first glance, but at that time my mind fell into the comfortable ruts of my training. The first things I noted were her size and the strength of her possible hostility: but she was long and lean, and quite friendly-looking. After a moment, I realized that she was also quite pretty, well-bred, and she was speaking to me.

"Ah...perhaps I do," I stammered, as politely as I could manage. Was I forgetting some rule of ettiquette? It felt strange to be mounted while she was walking, but I couldn't very well do anything about that without looking even stranger. "I am supposed to be finding a tailor in this district, but I can read neither his name nor his address. Perhaps...it seems his first name is 'Guy,' and his family name begins with an 'M,' but it might be anything." I considered handing the paper to her, but was overcome by another wave of confusion.

In all honesty, at that moment I would rather have been fighting another gang of bandits than standing there, feeling my face growing warmer than the weather warranted.

[Joie de Mornay]

The first instant he looked at me made me shiver; the calculating, almost coldness of his gaze struck me, though before I could blink it was gone, and he was red faced and a hairsbreadth away from stammering. My immediate reaction was soothing, and with a gentle, soft smile I let my gaze drop away from him, not forcing him to show his awkwardness visually. "It's this way," I said as I turned, looking southward down the street, "not too far. I can show you the way if you'd like."

I had a mind to go there myself, though after meeting him I didn't want to push. Risking a glance up at him I gave him the same soft smile; he was handsome, I'd give him that.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

"Ah, yes, that would be most kind of you," I said, gathering my wits. As quickly and lithely as I could manage, I swung off my mount, flipped the reins over her head, and--

Paused before her nose in confusion. Instinct told me to stand on her near side and lead her right-handed, and surely the lady anticipated me walking this way, but this could not be done as easily as it once had. Finally, I decided the mare was placid enough that I might hold the reins in my left hand and still walk on her left.

Having positioned myself so, I grinned at the lady almost sheepishly. "Please pardon me; I am Felix de Thoire, chevalier. Pray lead the way."

[Joie de Mornay]

I'd nearly jumped back when he suddenly swung down infront of me - the only thing that kept me stationary was the dim knowledge that there was an elderly man somewhere behind me walking down the path. His awkwardness was almost endearing, though once I realized what it stemmed from... He had no arm. I blinked, taken completely by surprise, and a soft rose colored my cheeks before I could stop it.

Elua, I was mortified for my reaction.

Praying he didn't take notice I gave a smile and led on down the path as he gave his name. "A pleasure to meet you, my lord Chevalier," I said pleasantly, glancing up at his face. "I'm Joie de Mornay."

My medical history gave me to squirmishness about his missing arm, and in all good truth it mattered little to me. My hands moved to my skirts and I lifted them gingerly, picking my way across the early spring road, my eyes glancing up now and again to him, and to the road before us. "Are you new to the City?"

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

Joie de Mornay. She was truly a lady, in behavior as well as in title; I could see that I had made her uncomfortable several times in the space of a few seconds, yet still she walked and talked with me as though I were a charming, coordinated, whole gentleman.

I already liked her.

"Not precisely, m'lady," I explained, in response to her question. My eyes remained on the road ahead of us, but occasionally flicked over for a quick, conversational glance. "I was born here, but I left almost twenty years ago." I paused for a moment. "And yourself, m'lady?"

In truth, I was curious to know if she was related to the famous poetess by the same last name, whose work I admired greatly; but it seemed far too forward to ask directly, particularly after frightening her twice in as many seconds.

[Joie de Mornay]

Twenty years? I risked a quick glance to his face, looking his features over before glancing back to the road; he was older than I obviously, though by how much was hard to tell. The hard angles of his face, the concentrating look he bore without even seeming to realize it... Part of the army, perhaps? I really didn't know about such things.

"I've been here for a handful of months," I said, letting my pale yellow skirts drop down again once the puddles disappeared before us. "Not overly long in the grand scheme of things, I suppose; I grew up in Eisande."

The shop lay before us and I glanced at him with a smile, my features relaxed, reflecting the general quiet happy that I usually felt. "And please," I begged softly, my eye meeting his, "Call me Joie."

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

"I could only bring myself to such a level of familiarity if you were to do the same," I replied promptly, "and call me Felix." I ventured a smile back at her, meeting her eyes fully. She certainly had an interesting gaze; somehow it seemed full of color, though I could not place precisely why it was so.

[Joie de Mornay]

I found myself studying him again as he met my gaze with a smile, noting how the hard planes of his face softened, became less harsh and more handsome. Letting my eyes move back to where we were walking I gave another smile, feeling myself relax more.

"Felix it is then," I said, one hand lifting to gesture at a stone-faced building. "And here we are."

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

"Ah." The building looked nondescript; I would have had to search all day, reading every plaquard and sign, in order to discover it. "I would never have found it alone. Thank you very much, Joie." I pronounced the single syllable carefully, trying to infuse as much respect into it as possible.

[Joie de Mornay]

"You're more than welcome, Felix," I said, glancing up at him. "Though that will cost you two ducats..." A tease lit my voice as I gave a smile that borderlined a grin to him, though inwardly I attempted to decide if I should voice the question that was nagging at the back of my head.

My mouth chose for me; before I'd thought thoroughly, I found myself speaking, voice mild, "I apologize if this appears awkward, but would you mind if I came in with you? I had a mind of going here myself." I'd been here before which was how I knew where the place was with the small description he gave, and had found it fairly suitable.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

I laughed at her jest, perhaps a little too loudly; but I have always had a pleasant laugh. "Of course," I added, when the joke had begun to fade comfortably into the past. "I would not mind companionship at all."

My mare stood placidly while I secured her to the hitching-post in front of the store; and then, turning back to Joie, I was faced with another quandry. The proper thing to do would be to offer her my arm; but would she take it? Were our places switched, I cannot say that I would have.

Still, I made her a short bow, offered my left arm, hid the right and hoped for the best.

[Joie de Mornay]

He seemed so unsure of what to do that my heart ached a little, and I could feel the urge to soothe him once more itch at the back of my head. When he lifted his arm, though, and offered it to me I took it with a smile, letting my hand tuck up under the well-muscled forearm that lay beneath his coat.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, letting him lead me up the short path and to the door.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

Her touch was light, her kindness touching. If I was to be fortunate enough to make such aquaintances, perhaps this new life would not be so difficult to adjust to.

I smiled at her, and entered the shop considerably less apprehensive than I'd been that morning.

[Joie de Mornay]

The shop was surprisingly empty for the amount of people on the road, and I gazed around as I let my eyes adjust to the darker setting. Womens clothing and mens alike were joined down the middle with a wall dedicated to either, and I knew roughly where I wanted to start. With a quiet thank you I gave him his arm back, my fingers sliding down the hem of his coat, and I turned my head to look out over the store once again. "Do you know what you're looking for?" My query was given softly for the quietness of the store as my gaze looked back to his, my face open and friendly.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

Joie's hand, lightly brushing the side of my coat, was distracting. Later, I would not be unnerved by such subtle grace; but this was the longest sustained contact I'd had with a lady in years, and I was sensitive to every subtle nuance of our interaction.

As she began to examine the wares, my eyes wandered through the shop, grazing brocade and silk and velvet, vibrant reds and aloof silvers and brooding blues. "Somewhat," I admitted, following her example and lowering my voice to a hushed tone. William had given me instructions on what would be suitable attire, and these floated vaguely about in my mind as I moved cautiously towards one of the nearer racks. "Mostly not."

[Joie de Mornay]

He seemed rather withdrawn, speaking in short, to the point sentences, and while I didn't mind nor take it wrongly I still couldn't help but wonder if he would prefer silence over conversation. I mulled a few moments, my teeth catching the inner part of my lower lip as I viewed a rack of sunny dresses before me, my fingers sliding idly from one piece of cloth to the next.

"For some people not knowing would be a source of a shoppers unrestrained joy, but you..." I glanced at him again, my gaze small, peeking up over the rim of my shoulder, "I have a feeling you don't care to shop yourself."

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

I stopped eyeing a royal blue doublet to glance back over my shoulder at Joie. It was an interesting observation; I hadn't considered it before. "I haven't had much opportunity," I explained. "In the Guard, you're allotted one of everything and never have to worry about cost, or selection, or style."

The ladies' side of the store, much more colorful and variant than the mens', caught my eye for a moment over Joie's shoulder. It was almost dizzying. "You like to shop, then?" I asked, with a small smile. Her eyes and hands admired and criticized with practiced care, and her enthusiasm, curbed as it might have been at the moment, was almost infectious.

[Joie de Mornay]

A smile covered my lips and hinted around my eyes as he spoke some about his time in the service; his coat and breeches fairly shouted it, though I never would have asked if he were a part of it. I'd been around enough men who'd lost limbs during my stay with the healer that I knew better than to pry - most were overly touchy about such things, and prone to anger. It was good to see Felix wasn't so bitter as that, though I still had no intention of pressing any further than he showed interest in going.

"I'm not overly big on shopping, no, though the occassional trip isn't beyond me." I turned enough that my words weren't muffled behind my shoulder, my smile openly visible. "I prefer different arts rather than that of spending money."

Had an adept said that it likely would have been taken one way only, and while I couldn't help but test Felix some on where his thoughts lay, I at least attempted not to be direct about it. My knowledge of men and wounds was far vaster than most, especially those my age, though I never claimed to have the wisdom of someone fully ripened and mature, my age twice over. My gaze remained on his for a moment before it wavered, and with a slightly bigger smile I turned my head back and continued to sift through the dresses, selecting out a few pale ones and laying them across my arm.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

What arts? The words barely had time to spring into my mind, let alone out of my mouth, before I remembered that I was in the City of Elua, where the arts of love were practiced and hinted at, often subtly, in the language of the body and the word alike.

Of course, I thought, she may be speaking of painting or singing or riding.

I turned back to the doublets, my state of mind altering itself to accomodate what she'd said. I hesitate to say it became less innocent, but it would not be an inaccurate explanation. "Spending money is certainly one of the less enjoyable or fruitful activities one might engage in," I finally said, lamely, trying to cover all bases.

[Joie de Mornay]

I grinned - I couldn't help it. Felix seemed to be more stand-offish by nature, and I couldn't help but be at least partially amused with the fact that he hadn't become utterly red-faced and left without words. I had no doubt he wondered what I meant, and while I never meant to make him so I still couldn't help but be impressed with how he had handled the situation. It was gentlemanly, and admirable.

"That's true," I murmured quietly, unsure as to whether he would actually hear me or not. Another dress was pulled out and placed across my arm, and I stepped back from the rack, glancing over to him before going to the dressing room. "Massage," I said quietly, my smile subdued even through the lingering mirth that hung about my features, "Healing, reading. What are your interests, my Lord de Thoire?"

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

Impressive. Somehow, she had explicitly listed her interests and still left me wondering exactly what she meant. That little expression of amusement, that flash of her eyes--who knew?

"I owe a lot to healers," I replied promptly. "I've never known a soldier who didn't." It was true, and her interest in the field explained why she had not flinched at my arm. I was not sure whether to be reassured by the fact that such a lady existed, or disappointed at the prospect that others may not be so accepting.

Feeling reassured was my preference, and so I went with it.

"I enjoy reading, also," I continued, beginning with common ground. "Riding. And I'm quite fond of chess."

The same blue doublet was still in my hands, none the better for having been fidgeted with for many minutes; I replaced it on the rack and eyed a deep crimson silk, embroidered with silver.

[Joie de Mornay]

There it was again, the same reference to a soldiers life, and no flinch behind it. I never would have thought he'd have been ashamed of it, though losing something so large as your arm could put a mindspin on anything. Unless I missed my guess completely he'd lost it in the service, for the never would have taken him in otherwise and the chances of it happening outside duty were slim.

"Riding has its own pleasures," I said, my voice quiet for the store though loud enough that he could hear me clearly. "I'll admit, though, that I've never played chess before."

His eyes dropped back to the clothes he was examining, and I took the small lull to excuse myself. "I'm going to go try these on, I think." A brighter smile was handed out before I turned and made my way into a dressing room, hanging the dresses up on a hook behind me. My own dress was stripped away and left on the bench while I selected a a pale green dress, the color reminding me of newly sprouted leaves that budded off of oak trees. A slit ran partially up my thigh that I hadn't noticed when I selected it, and the back dipped halfway down my spine before closing off. Not something, then, that I would wear to simply shop.

Stepping out of the dressing room I turned towards the tri-fold mirrors, my hands running down my waist and examining the fit.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

With a nod and a smile, I turned again to my own shopping, which seemed more a chore than ever in contrast to conversation, as layered as that conversation may be.

So many of the styles and colors were bright and gaudy; they were lovely, in truth, but I couldn't imagine myself in anything purple or heavily decorated. After a short interlude of searching, I discovered some plainer doublets against the wall, and selected three: a deep blue, a vibrant red, and a brilliant white. Black trousers were found further along the wall, and I carried my selections all together towards the dressing-rooms.

The triple mirrors, designed to show a near-complete view, were on my way; and when I glanced over to see Joie examining herself, I had to blink. "Green suits you," I said, then rapidly secluded myself in one of the rooms.

[Joie de Mornay]

Thankfully I had had warning that Felix was making his way towards the dressing rooms, otherwise I likely would have jumped when I heard his voice. I didn't have a chance to thank him properly, though I did call out a word of gratitude before following suit into the room I'd chosen, stripping out of my dress. I liked it; it felt nice on my skin, and was more comfortable than it looked, though I wasn't sure yet where I'd wear it at. Hanging it to the side for later contemplation I selected a light purple and donned it; the slit was gone from this one, though the neckline was lower and showed a touch of skin between my breasts. I didn't have to look at the mirror with this one; I disliked it immediatly. Off it came and the last one donned, a yellow so pale it was nearly white. My movement was unhindered in it, the skirts soft and flowing about my ankles, leaving my legs ample room to move without being caught up in fabric. The back fell below both shoulder blades and the front came down under my collar bones a few inches. My breasts were well and covered, though a high-cut waist gathered fabric below them before flowing downward, leaving the over all appearance of it more whimsical and unknowing.

I stepped out, already knowing I'd purchase it, and stood before the mirrors again, fidgeting with the neckline before sliding my hands down my hips.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

All of the doublets were nearly the same, and the trousers were all the same; it took only a few moments to don each and determine that it was neither exciting nor detestable. Finally, neatly buttoned into the blue garment, I stepped outside to examine myself in the triple mirror.

Joie was occupying the space; I tried to look politely away while she gazed critically at her gown, but it was the sort of sight a fellow enjoys seeing. The flowing fabric was the color of moonglow, silvery white with a hint of sunny yellow to it; memorable, to say the least.

[Joie de Mornay]

I caught a glimpse of movement over my shoulder as Felix emerged from his dressing room, looking rather handsome in a blue doublet that showed nicely the color of his skin and eyes... Eyes that averted in a rather gentleman-like fashion away from me. Had I been more of a vixen I might have pretended not to notice, to flaunt myself and exaggerate the lines of my body with a few simple moves, though that wasn't who I was.

Not in public, anyway.

Letting my fingers fall away from my hips I turned slightly and stepped to the side, glancing up at his half-averted eyes. "There's plenty of room," I commented, a smile forming on my lips to couple my words.

[Felix de Thoire (I)]

With a nod, I moved cautiously beside her. The blue seemed to look nice, though I hadn't an eye for such things; I was, at least, willing to purchase it. I glanced over, guessing that Joie's more practiced eye had already appraised me and formed an opinion.

"Do you find it passable?" I asked, a touch of curiousity audible in my voice.

[Joie de Mornay]

He moved like I was going to reach out and bite him, though I waited with an unwavering patience; had he been a lordling or adept I may have been offended, but knowing his history as a soldier and my own limited experiance with them... Perhaps it was only that. Perhaps.

"Barely," I said with an open tease as he asked me about his choice of doublet, the smile lining my mouth bordering a grin. "The color offsets your skin well and the fit is good upon your shoulders - it seems to need very little altering." That was spoken in truth and reflected in my voice, though I couldn't help but jest with him just a touch.