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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 7:15:15 GMT -5
Smiling, I nodded, thinking that he was avoiding the question, but I led him to a place he probably considered rather unlikely- a bench outside a carpendry shop where I used to sit and watch them work once I was old enough to be out by myself but not finished with my marque and therefore unable to return home.
Smiling, I sat down and patted the bench next to me, indicating that he should sit as well. "This is where I used to spend a good deal of my time- I liked to watch the carpender's work. I was taken to Dahlia very young, but one of the few clear memories I have is watching my father work. But after awhile I grew bored with it and realized that I had grown in a different direction and that sometimes we are not what we were born to be."
Smiling wrying, I rolled my eyes in a self-depricating way. "I'm sorry, this must seem terribly boring to you- but it was the first thing that came to my mind."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 21, 2006 7:52:16 GMT -5
“Your father was a carpenter,” I blurted. And then I could have kicked myself for I sounded exactly like the irredeemable snob I truly am. I may have all the airs of an aristocratic but my background is unrelentingly bourgeois. You can’t really be a snob if you’re genuine, tenth generation nobility. You just are. And I’m just not. I hate to be reminded of that, although, now my parents are dead, my contemporaries have moved on and I have a grand title there remains less and less to drag me back to my uninspiring roots.
“I’m sorry,” I said, settling myself on the bench beside her, “I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. It must be your Dahlia training, but I keep forgetting you’re not … well …” I wasn’t making this any better “…the young lady I first mistook you for.” That was better. I offered up a sheepish smile in a valiant effort to smooth over the mess I had made of that.
A watched the peasanty types doing whatever it was they were doing with all that wood. Ye Gods, this was excruciatingly dull. It was like being back in the country.
“Not at all,” I said, with my best sincerity – which is well practiced and usually indistinguishable from the real thing – “it’s fascinating.” Overkill? Never mind. “And I can picture you here as a child, all big eyes and curly brown hair, watching everything, no doubt, with an expression of ferocious concentration. Did you miss your family when you came to Dahlia?”
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 8:06:43 GMT -5
"Yes, my father was a carpender- and my mother the direct descendant of a bloodline that has been present in Dahlia since the House began," I said in pride; no one could make me feel ashamed of what I had been born to, for I was what I had made myself, not simply a combination of mixed blood.
"When I sat here it was, most likely, with an intense look of focus, as I had already been in Dahlia for most of my life. Most likely my back was rigid-straight and I stared unrepentantly as well. I never really missed my family after the first day- I had been told for most of my life about my duty to the House and my blood. As far as I was aware, it was the only way my life could be."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 21, 2006 8:29:20 GMT -5
“Ah, a touching tale of riches to rags,” I said, with a mischievous smile to soften the cynical words. From the defensive pride of her words and tone, I realised I had not covered myself sufficiently. “Again, I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking.” That was true enough. “But that’s quite a heritage. Why, you’re practically Dahlia aristocracy.”
I slid a sideways glance at her. “You haven’t changed much, then,” I said. “But where does one find such focus and drive. I confess they’re rather alien concepts to me.” I didn’t know what had made me admit to that – but then her self-assurance occasionally slipped into arrogance. Perhaps my own failings would be the flame to draw her.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 8:46:09 GMT -5
"Focus and drive are like sunlight- they tend to illuminate some things while leaving others in shadow and burn you if you bask in them too long. In some ways you should count yourself lucky to be without them; in others, I can only say you may develop them in time. In truth, I can't even be praised for those traits; I just know of no other way to be." With a low, wry laugh I continued, "As for being Dahlia aristocrasy, it is not as much respected as it once was."
Shifting slightly I turned to face him, shaking my head slightly to clear it of my cynical, bitter thoughts and smiled slightly. "My thoughts on occasion run away with me and I go off onto tangents," I said, slightly apologetic.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 21, 2006 9:06:11 GMT -5
“That’s perfectly all right, my dear,” I said. “You can talk as much as you like.” Again, I found myself in a surprising position of honesty. I like it when people talk. It means I don’t have to. And even though I’m too selfish to really be interested in people per se, I am interested in learning how best to make them dance to my whims and inclinations.
But her words had piqued my curiosity. “Would you like to be another way?”
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 9:35:13 GMT -5
Hands clasped before me I thought for a moment about his question, wondering what the right thing to say was- and then I realized that was what I had so much trouble reconciling. "I think everyone would like to cut themselves free of the ties that bind them on occasion, myself included. Being who I am means always thinking one step ahead of where you already are- someday it may be nice to not have to think about every action and sentence before it comes free."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 21, 2006 9:47:36 GMT -5
I watched her as she thought about her answer, hands demurely clasped before her, eyes simultaneously intense and distant. Again, I found the sight amusing … amusing in a strange way, I think I found it amusing. It wasn’t my usual sort of amusement - which comes from satisfaction, conquest, victory, the failure of others - to say nothing of artificial sources which is cold and superior. Instead it just manifested as the oddest impulse to smile, which I accordingly ignored.
When she spoke however, her words touched me like the tip of a well-placed blade. I knew she was speaking for herself but I could not help but find a resonance there. To be honest, I hardly know what I think about anything until I’ve decided to say it and, even then, I’m liable to change it in a split-second if I don’t like the response it generates. She spoke of freedom and I saw her for a moment enchained in the expectations of others. And myself, beside her, in chains of my own making.
“Shall we walk on?” I said, somewhat stiltedly.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 10:01:10 GMT -5
Feeling him tense a little beside me I cast my eyes sideways and looked at him through the corners- he seemed a little lost in thought for a moment himself and I wondered if I'd hit some secret. Still, words said cannot be unsaid- best just to pretend I hadn't noticed.
Raising my head, I smiled guilelessly and said, "That sounds like a good idea, my lord- what sort of thing would you like to see?"
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 21, 2006 10:11:05 GMT -5
I stood, stretching like a cat in the sunlight, trying to shed the eerie feeling that momentarily overwhelmed me. Thankfully, I’m fickle so dark moods pass rapidly. And it did leave me with an idea.
I held my hands to help my companion to her feet.
“Perhaps we should set ourselves free for an afternoon,” I said, as if spontaneously inspired. “We should say exactly what we think and do exactly what we want.”
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 21, 2006 10:20:39 GMT -5
Standing, I smoothed my gown and raised an eyebrow whimsically. "Is it just that easy to put away habits? I've never tried, but I would be willing to try if you were." A day with no masks, no worrying about offending someone... "But what if my uninhibited self is a bore and impossible to deal with?"
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 22, 2006 8:13:36 GMT -5
“Then I shall, of course, recoil in fear and loathing,” I said, with a smile. “But I think you’re worrying unduly. And there’s always the possibility that my inhibited self is even worse than yours. How shall we deal with that?”
Naturally, I had no intention of playing along – I had no idea who my inhibited self was – but I was sure I could give a fair semblance of it.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 22, 2006 8:22:54 GMT -5
I was starting to have a distinct feeling I was a quail that someone was trying to startle into flight so the bowman can take aim. Still, it was such a glorious thing to fly..
"If your uninhibited self is loathsome I will simply make some polite excuse and escape- I've always had luck with that before," I said, eyes flashing with a little mirth. "Though I doubt I will need such things today, as I could make myself so obnoxious and pompous that you would wish to escape. Still, I will try to behave myself today."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 22, 2006 8:32:02 GMT -5
“But you don’t have to behave,” I said, staring at her with glimmering green eyes, “that’s the point isn’t it? We shall have to trust each other.” I reached out and took her hand in mine. “There. I trust you. Now that we’re flying free … what should we do? What would you like to do? The world is at our fingertips.”
My heart had quickened a little, and I felt that blade-sharp edge of exhilaration. The chase was truly on, and I would bring her down like a stag.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 22, 2006 8:43:41 GMT -5
I was slightly suspicious of his claiming to trust me so easily, but in for an ounce, in for a pound, I thought to myself. Still, I would trust my instincts rather than my training today and if I got any truly bad feelings I would make my excuses and leave. No one held me against my will- though, for the moment, my will was content to remain here.
His hand in mine was warm and I laughed lightly. "Today I am not making any decisions as to what happens- I intend to go wherever the whim takes me, no plans or even pressing ideas. It's your choice."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 22, 2006 8:57:20 GMT -5
I took the opportunity to think for a moment. I was wondering how best to move things in the direction I wanted them to go without making it look like that was all I was interested in. But, then, she was an adept and adepts need patrons … and I was very willing indeed to oblige on that score.
“Then, at the moment, the truest wish of my inhibited heart would be take a glass or two of wine in a quiet corner somewhere with a beautiful woman. And then, perhaps,” I paused delicately, “perhaps you could introduce me to Dahlia. It’s not a house with which I’m familiar.” Possibly I'd moved too far too quickly - for all I knew it was the girl's day off - but I didn't want to do all this hard work with no reward in sight.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 22, 2006 9:15:32 GMT -5
My eyes on his, back straight and head high, I considered; he had actually spent time and effort setting this up, for now I had no disbelief that this had been his intention all along, and it was more care than most people attempting to contract me took. He was intelligent and subtle, if a little lazy, and showed the slightest hint of potential.
With a nod and a slightly sensuous grin I said, "That sounds like an admirable plan, my lord- I am sure Dahlia would love to have you."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 24, 2006 8:12:24 GMT -5
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I kept my thoughts to myself. It reminded me, however, that I still had several debts owing to various of the Houses (Jasmine, particularly) and, unless I wanted to remain persona non grata around the Night Court, I ought to see about paying them off. Anyway, I’d be unlikely to visit Dahlia again after today. In a world so full lovely, obliging, talented creatures why anyone would waste time in repetition I did not know.
I ducked into the interior of a nearby hostelry. It wasn’t one with which I was familiar but that could only be a good thing.
“Red, white, pinkish, sparkling, still?” I asked, glancing back at my companion.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 24, 2006 8:29:42 GMT -5
"Red," I answered promptly- I'd always been a person with my own opinions, and one of them was that any wine not red may as well be water. Still, reminding myself that I was dealing with a noble with possibly delicate tastes, I decided that discretion was the better part of dignity. After all, this could be considered a new patron, and it paid to be a little obliging- soon, the debt of my mother's stolen marque would be paid and I would be able to work towards my own goals.
So thinking, I reminded myself where I was and what my job was and smiled charmingly.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 24, 2006 8:38:16 GMT -5
“Red it is,” I said, amused at the swiftness and the decidedness of her response.
Ah, I like my women like I like my wine. Often.
I lent over the bar and scrutinised the wine list, trying not to flinch. Well, what was I expected of some tavern in the middle of Night’s Doorstep. I supposed we were lucky it was quiet and not full of common people. In the end, I got the best they had which wasn’t saying much.
The barwench seemed more than a little flustered by my smile and my gaze but I behaved myself. I could always come back and fluster her more at a later date.
Bottle and two glasses in hand, I led the way into a dark and cosy corner. I poured liberally for both of us, although I probably needed to exercise a little moderation if I wasn’t going to completely jeopardise my good fortune. Urgh. Moderation. Terrible word.
I lifted my glass in an ironic toast.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 24, 2006 9:06:54 GMT -5
Watching all of this with the part of my mind not occupied with being Dahlia I reviewed what I had learned about this Sylvestre de Valmont. It was a very complicated game, this one he played; some part of me wondered how he could call himself lazy when he put so much effort into his lies. People were always trying to make things more complicated than they really had to be.
With another charming- if a little wry- grin, I lifted my own glass to his, my delicate, long-fingered hands steady.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 24, 2006 9:35:54 GMT -5
She was so composed – perhaps a quantity of this (sadly mediocre) wine would help that a little. I’d never bedded a Dahlia adept before, and such was her gravity that I was conscious of feeling vaguely anxious about it, along with the usual enthusiasm for conquering new territory. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d told me there was some kind of special Dahlia ritual. Or a Master of Ceremonies. The thought was hardly guaranteed to get the blood boiling.
Consequently I drank a little too much a little too quickly. Never mind. In some respects, I almost prefer my mind fuzzy sometimes. It stops me thinking. I realised conversation had flagged a little but until I’d dispensed with my absurd stage fright, it probably wasn’t going to be easily revived.
Therefore, when she next returned her glass to the table, I did the same with mine, slid closer to her in my corner and moved in for the kill.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 24, 2006 9:55:51 GMT -5
When his lips pressed to mine I melted against him slightly- it probably seemed an action so in contrast with my usually upright carriage that people ended up a bit shocked. With fingers barely firm enough to be felt through his layers I caressed his arms and shoulders. Then, slightly pushing myself back and cocking my head a little teasingly, I asked, "I take it you are ready to go?"
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 24, 2006 10:02:54 GMT -5
She melted! I was so surprised I nearly forgot to keep kissing her. Perhaps because she was usually so aloof the contrast was utterly disarming. It was like discovering a flame at the heart of glacier. For a moment, there was nothing, but her lips, my lips, heat. And when she drew away, I was left gasping and bewildering like an inexperienced youth.
“Ah … yes … yes I am … that would be nice …” I said. Not my most suave of moments, I must confess.
Pull yourself together, Sly. You’ve been kissed before. And by greater women than some haughty adept with ideas above her station. I reached for my glass and downed was left of the liquid in there in order to steady myself.
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Post by Allisande nó Dahlia on Apr 24, 2006 10:15:39 GMT -5
Though I had suprised some patrons before he seemed so taken aback that I felt a little sympathy for him. Still, I showed none of that sympathy, instead righting my posture again and nodding compliantly waited for him to finish his wine.
Once he'd set his glass back down and stood I stood myself, catching his gaze with mine.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 24, 2006 10:18:35 GMT -5
She watched me impassively as I flustered. Damn her. But I pushed back resentment. Now was the time for the indulgence of curiosity, not malice.
“To Dahlia,” I said, with a flourish of my cane and an easy smile, catching her arm and drawing it through mine again.
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