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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 8, 2005 22:55:44 GMT -5
I climbed into the Comte's carriage and took the same seat as the last time. Ricco sat beside me, actually pressing much tighter against me than the seat required. The carriage began the short trip to Mandrake, and as soon as it did Ricco leaned over and kissed me hard. As I returned his kiss I felt his hand move beneath my skirts and slide up the inside of my thigh. Involuntarily I thrust my hips forward, my body craving his touch but his hand stopped before it reached my heated center. I cried out as he dug his nails into the partially healed wound where his teeth and ripped open my thigh our first night together. I felt a warm trickle of blood as he broke through some of the stitches the Balm adept had so careful applied. The carriage slowed to a stop and Ricco quickly sat back, as if he had never moved. The door opened and the Comte stepped out, turning to help me down. Legs weak, I stepped down trying to keep from wincing as the movement further opened the wound. Ricco took my arm and led me into Mandrake House.
The pain of my thigh faded away as I passed through the front doors of Mandrake. Just crossing the threshold brought me into what felt like another land. The air seemed thicker, as if something curled through it waiting, hunting. We were greeted just inside the doors by a man nearly as tall as Ricco.
"Comte Ricco, welcome. Dowayne Trinette has sent me word of your request," the man, whom I could only assume was the Dowayne said.
"Dowayne Ignace, this is Douleur nớ Valerian. She will be the other half of the pairing I seek." I curtseyed, eyes downcast. As I rose I looked up and my eyes met those of the Dowayne. My knees nearly buckled and I barely caught myself. My breath came out in a soft moan.
A wry smile crossed the Dowayne's face and he reached out to tilt my chin up. "She is a frail little thing, isn't she?" He turned my head from side to side, inspecting me. "Are you certain she will survive one of your parties?" The Dowayne cupped my cheek in his hand and I leaned against it, rubbing my cheek against the warmth of his flesh.
Ricco tugged on my arm, pulling me away from the Dowayne. "There is more to her than there appears. Besides, she has this amazing allure, people can not keep their hands off her," Ricco smirked. The Dowayne laughed, dropping his hand back to his side. "In fact, I think I shall leave Douleur in your courtyard while we go inspect the adepts you have for me to look at." With that Ricco pushed me through the door into the courtyard. I looked back at him and he raised his hand to point a finger at me. "Stay in the courtyard." Without waiting for an answer he and the Dowayne went deeper into Mandrake.
I looked around the courtyard. It was both similar and very different from the one at Valerian. Even here outside the air felt different. My eyes fell and locked upon the whipping post. It looked much older and worn than the one in the Valerian courtyard. I approached it gingerly due to the reawakened pain in my inner thigh. When I reached the post I saw that I was right, it was more worn than the one at Valerian. Smiling to myself, I realized that made sense. A whipping was much more of a punishment for a Mandrake adept than it was for a Valerian. I reached up and ran my finger over the ring secured to the post. I felt my thoughts drifting away as I imagined being chained here with Dowayne Ignace, whip in hand, behind me.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 9, 2005 7:28:31 GMT -5
Patrons never really see Mandrake. They see the stone corridors and the marble halls and the deep, dark rooms with the punishment wheels and the instruments upon the walls. They see the vaulted ceilings, and the tapestries, and the unusual luxury of the great beds, and the high arched windows with the tinted glass so that even the sunlight sometimes finds you tinged with blood. They see the courtyard with its austere granite flags and its whipping post, and the dark splashes upon the ground.
They never think to visit the gardens. It just doesn’t fit in with what they expect of Mandrake. And more fool them, I say. It’s run wild over the years. There are rose briars, thorns tangled up in velvet, and old walls choked with wisteria, and a still pool glass-green with algae and overhung with willows. There’s a grove of apple trees for drowsy autumn afternoons, lace-draped blossom trees for bright spring mornings and a patch of jasmine for balmy summer nights. Winter is a different story altogether.
I was sitting on top of the courtyard wall, watching the changing glisten of the filtered morning sunlight upon the ivy leaves that have smothered the crumbling stonework in a riot of gleaming green and flashes of cream. My back was resting against the trunk of an old horse chestnut tree and my legs were stretched out along the top of the wall: it was a little precarious, but I was comfortable, and I was away from the gloomy, twisting corridors of the house, and the air of urgency that, for some reason, seemed to have suffused the place this morning. Probably I was missing out on something important, but who cares? I know I don't. I have better things to do with my time than get in a flutter over patrons. Like sitting on walls doing nothing, for example.
Half-sheltered by the ivy, I was able to lazily watch the scene unfolding below me. There was Ignace being his usual charming up-himself self. It’s difficult to maintain this level of bile when you’ve quivered and wept in someone’s lap but I’m willing to put the work in, and I seem to be managing. And some Lordling. I know his ilk well enough, although we don’t see many of them at Mandrake unless they’re toting their tremblingly submissive wife. I expect he talks of artistry in the bedroom and tears at flesh like the rutting boar (bore, there’s a pun in that somewhere) he is. And the other … blessed Elua … pure Valerian, through and through. She looked like she’d fade into nothing but tears as surely as frost in sunshine. Or not. That was a flash of pure, fierce hunger in her eyes at Dowayne’s oh-so-masterly touch. Honestly. I swear they train them to swoon at anything.
I was too far away to hear much of the conversation. I enjoy eavesdropping. It’s such a low and vicious art. But, soon enough, they vanished indoors, leaving her still standing in the courtyard. Of course, she was drawn to the whipping post. They obviously train them for that kind of thing as well. The ebb and flow of fear and desire. How well I know that dance. The meekness of a lamb and the appetites of a wolf, all sewn up inside that tender flesh.
I slithered carefully from the wall. I don’t know whether she heard me or not but I padded over anyway. Her hair was the colour of trees in autumn, all russet reds and golden hues.
“You smell of blood and heat,” I said.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 9, 2005 9:07:25 GMT -5
I jumped at the voice behind me, turning and pressing my back against the post. My heart still sped from being startled, but my breath caught from the sheer beauty of the man who had appeared behind me. His beauty did not lend itself to graciousness though, there was a cloud of anger that almost visibly surrounded him.
I had no clue as to where he had come from, I had seen no one else out in the courtyard. I had been so lost in my thoughts I had not heard what he said, only his voice.
"Pardon me?" was all I could manage.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 9, 2005 10:06:13 GMT -5
She startled delightfully, like a gazelle or some such. She looked about half ready to run, her lips slightly parted on a gasp. I wondered fleetingly if she was impressed by me. Many are, for they tell me I’m very beautiful and I’m familiar enough with the reflection that stares back at me from the glass not to doubt them. I’m rarely drawn to the beauty of people like that. A body is just another body, after all. It’s nothing to a flower, to the infinite variety of a leaf.
It’s rather a weakness of mine – and rather too in keeping with the inclinations of my house for comfort - but I do like frightening people. It seems genuine in some way, I don’t quite know. But I know I unnerve the other adepts. I took the opportunity to prowl around her. She really was a fragile thing. I’m surprised the weight of all that hair didn’t pull her over.
“I said,” I murmured, coming closer still, annunciating the words more clearly although I did not raise my voice, “I said you smell of blood and heat. Does Mandrake excite you, little Valerian?”
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 9, 2005 10:20:05 GMT -5
Feeling very much the orphaned fawn on the Flatlands that Ricco had dubbed me I watched as he stalked me. I kept my back pressed to the post, needing the solidness of it to ground me.
"I was examining the differences in this post to the one at my own House. Are you an adept here?" I wanted very much to look and see if Ricco was anywhere close, but I dared not take my eyes from this one.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 9, 2005 10:44:30 GMT -5
She held my gaze with her doe-brown eyes. I couldn’t tell whether it was courage or a sort of frozen fear.
“Yes, I’m an adept here,” I replied, with a dismissive gesture. For some reason it felt like an admission of some kind. I think it meant we were on equal footing again. I rather prefer feeling unduly – or, in fact duly - superior to people. “My name is Louvel,” I offered. I don’t know what made me do that. The truth of the matter is, I don’t normally bother talking to other adepts. I’m not sure what the rules are, and I probably wouldn’t care if I did. I know how to turn a patron sweet, of course. I’m nothing if not good at my job.
I turned my attention to the whipping post. It had rather too many cringeful memories attached to it for me to able to survey with complete equanimity. I don’t think any of that showed on my face though. “In the spirit of scientific enquiry?” I asked, quirking a sardonic brow. “Or would you like our dear Dowayne to give you a personal tour of the facilities?”
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 9, 2005 10:51:38 GMT -5
I felt a blush color my skin. It was if he had read my thoughts. It occurred to me suddenly that he had been watching when the Comte had been introducing me to the Dowayne. Anger sparked in me.
"It was curiosity, nothing more. I have never visited Mandrake before." My voice was steadier and I straightened my spine against the post. I had seen a flash in Louvel's eyes as he glanced at the post. I wondered if he had been punished here. "I am Douleur nớ Valerian."
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 9, 2005 10:59:30 GMT -5
I curled my lips a little to see her blush. I’ve never really been one for unnecessary smiling. It seems a social convention for the comfort of others more than anything. And I don’t like people to be comfortable.
She tilted her chin at me. I do believe I’d angered the little lamb.
“No, I’m sure you haven’t,” I said, filing her name away but not bothering to comment on it. Well, I couldn’t foresee any circumstances under which I’d be likely to use it. “You would have been remembered, I think. What brings you here today? Curiosity again?”
I propped one shoulder against the whipping post. Hello old friend.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 9, 2005 11:05:27 GMT -5
Unable to stop myself, I flinched as he came close and leaned against the post. I moved away, for some reason feeling the need to keep myself facing him.
"I am here with Comte Malcolm Ricco. Your Dowayne is presenting him some adepts." I felt a sense of relief that Louvel was not one of the adepts Ricco was choosing from.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 9, 2005 11:16:21 GMT -5
“Oh so that’s what all the fuss was about this morning,” I exclaimed. I smirked, dragging my eyes insolently across her body (and, oh, how she flinched and trembled). “They’d have done better to have taken you with them. Whip up some enthusiasm, you know. So to speak.”
Comte Ricco, eh? That must have been the man in the courtyard who had yanked her so possessively from Ignace’s grasp. How amusing are the follies of the world. And my own. Surely I have better things to do with myself than torment terrified little Valerians?
Hmm. Evidently not.
“I’m sorry, am I making you all nervous?” I asked, with a heavy lacing of sarcasm, as she retreated from me.
I couldn’t help myself. I padded a few steps forward, just to see what she’d do in response.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 9, 2005 11:22:58 GMT -5
I retreated two steps for every one he took towards me. I could not help myself. There was something about him that frightened me. Like the noise that wakes you in the dark of the night, your mind screams at you that it is the scrape of unknown footsteps beside your bed even though your eyes show you alone in the room.
I tore my eyes from him long enough to glance around hoping to find anyone else near, but I was alone with him. As I looked back to him I found he had moved even closer. I backed up further, unable to find my voice to tell him to leave.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 4:00:22 GMT -5
She was actually retreating from me, wide-eyed little fawn that she was. I think I was genuinely terrifying her.
Oh but there was something about her. I usually have no time for these sorts of games. I have seen the other adepts, they way they brush lightly against each other, testing boundaries, testing dominance … and, here I was doing exactly the same. And to think I have always prided myself on my common sense. This had nothing to do with common sense. Just a strange resonance in the dark places of my mind, like a stone cast into an unknown well. It shook my composure, just a little.
“Don’t be so silly,” I told her carelessly, turning away again and staring out across the courtyard, towards the distant trees. At least I hope it seemed careless. “I’m not going to eat you. I suspect Ignace wants that pleasure for himself anyway.” I threw her a quick malicious glance over my shoulder to see how she reacted to this.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 7:58:27 GMT -5
The fear that sped my heart and breath wrenched and twisted into anger at Louvel's words and the way he looked at me. Righteousness filled me and I found the courage to stop fleeing him.
"I am sure the Dowayne would at least know what to do with me. I doubt he wastes his time slinking through the gardens like an alley cur." With what I hoped was a look of superiority on my face I started back to the foyer. I tried not to look at Louvel, even though I would have to pass right by him to escape the courtyard. I would gladly take whatever punishment Ricco saw fit to give me for disobedience just to be away from Louvel.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 8:43:17 GMT -5
It was enticing, that little flash of fury. Enticing, for a moment, and then undeniably irritating. Her words prickled against my skin little nettles. She was looking at me like she could see right through me. I folded my arms, refusing to move as she flounced by me, watching her with all the cold contempt I could muster … which was a lot. I practice, you know.
But as she passed I changed my mind. I bounded after her – it didn’t take much because of the differences of our heights – and before I really had time to think what I was going to do my hands were upon her shoulders.
The moment of contact flashed through me, unexpectedly shocking.
“What makes you think I don’t know what to do with you?” I purred.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 8:52:33 GMT -5
I was by him and almost away when he was again upon me, this time touching me. His hands on my shoulders. My anger crashed inside me, splintering into pure hunger. Desperately seeking to rein in my desire, I tilted my chin up to look him in the eyes.
"Because it's obvious you don't know what to do with yourself, so how would you know what to do with me?"
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 9:09:49 GMT -5
He gaze crashed into mine with remarkable force. There can be something fierce, something visceral the first time someone’s eyes meet yours, especially when they’re standing so close. My grip on her shoulders tightened. A little more pressure and I knew I’d leave bruises. I know that sort of thing. For once it wasn’t calculated. I was trying not to stagger.
The anger was still there. I do know what to do with myself. I do. I want to idle my afternoons away beneath the apple trees. I want to watch the ivy choke the stone until it crumbles. I want to watch skaters skimming the surface of the pond. But I mastered it until it was hard and cold like a diamond deep inside.
“It’s because you’re infinitely less complex than I,” I replied, slipping one of my hands from her shoulders and burying it instead in the masses of her hair, forcing her to keep staring up at me.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 9:32:32 GMT -5
The pinpricks of individual hairs pulled danced across my scalp as he dug his hand into my tresses. I had felt his reaction as my words struck him. His eyes held mine and the hunger within me sharpened to a fine hone.
"There is nothing complex about a bully of a child, only fear and self doubt."
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 9:50:20 GMT -5
“Oh I’m not bullying you,” I said, and it little more than a whisper, like the scratchy rustle of leaves across the courtyard. As soon as I said it, I knew in strange way it was the truth. “I never bully people. I’m generally not interested enough in them to bother with anything so tedious. What makes you think I’m bullying you?”
My hand twisted deep within her hair. And, then, I bent my head and brushed my lips against hers, as soft a touch as I could make it. Drifting flower petals, in contrast to the cruelty of my fingers.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 9:58:34 GMT -5
The hint of a kiss and my will crumbled. My lips moving to form the plea for him to take me, when suddenly I was ripped away. A familiar grip on my shoulder and I looked up into Ricco's eyes.
"I can not leave you anywhere, can I little fawn?" He turned to look at Louvel and then at the Dowayne who was standing just behind Louvel. "This one will do. Tell the other adept I have changed my mind." Addressing Louvel he said, " You will be at Valerian tomorrow, at sunset."
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 10:24:08 GMT -5
I think – to my private mortification – I must have closed my eyes when my lips touched hers. How romantic. They should have sent me to Heliotrope. There was a moment of nothing but her flesh yielding to the pressure of mine and, then, suddenly it was gone. And she was back, safe, in the possessive arms of her Lordling and my Dowayne was smirking at me like every feast day had come at once.
It seemed conceivable that I’d just been more than usually stupid.
My eyes flew to Doulour’s for a split second. I don’t know what I was expecting to see. The expression mirrored upon my own face? How did I look? I was horribly afraid I might be blushing. I don’t like being caught wrong footed and you can’t get more wrong footed than this.
“My Lord,” I bowed politely to the Comte, perhaps not as low as I should. His words washed up against me, barely heeded. “I will?” I asked, eyes widening for a moment. And then I caught the Dowayne’s attention and quickly choked off the rising intonation. “I will,” I said more firmly this time. “My Lord.”
What in Elua’s name had I just got myself into?
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 10:40:08 GMT -5
The Comte's fingers dug into the bones at my shoulder. I bit my tongue to keep from wincing and showing my pain. I searched Louvel's face for a sign of his feelings, but the mask of disdain had once again settled upon his perfectly crafted features. I noticed strands of my hair trailing from the fingers of the hand he had buried in my locks.
"Say farewell Douleur, your little playmate will see you tomorrow." I began to curtsey to the Dowayne, but Ricco jerked me away. I was out of the courtyard and into the foyer heading to his carriage in mere heartbeats.
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Post by Louvel nó L'Roche (D) on Aug 10, 2005 11:12:53 GMT -5
I turned away before I had to watch the Comte drag her from the courtyard. A few strands of her hair were still twined about my fingers, tight enough to leave pale silver marks like cobwebs in my flesh. I let them drift to the ground, arcs of gold swallowed up in the darkness of stone.
I heard a low chuckle from behind me. The Dowayne was looking at me with a rather odd expression on his face. I’ve never been particularly good at reading him. I think it’s one of the – many – reasons I dislike him so much.
“I will say this for you, Louvel,” he said, clapping me across the shoulders with distasteful bonhomie, “you’ve never lacked the capacity to surprise me.”
I gave him a sour look, but this only seemed to amuse him more.
“This will be good for you,” he went on, “assuming you manage not alienate and infuriate everyone. The Comte Ricco is a powerful and wealthy man…”
I faded out. Honour to House Mandrake blah blah blah. I glanced down at my feet, hoping to see a shimmer of light upon the flagstones, but there was nothing there.
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Post by Douleur nó Shahrizai on Aug 10, 2005 11:35:17 GMT -5
Ricco actually lifted me by the waist and threw me into the carriage. I glimpsed the shocked look on his footman's face before the door was slammed shut. The carriage rolled into motion and my eyes fixed on Ricco's face. His eyes had narrowed to slits and there was a hard edge to his features. I cringed back into the seat, and his face returned to its normal cast.
"I think it is a good thing that you spend most of your time locked behind the walls of Valerian. Otherwise there would a rash of incidents involving those drawn to you." Smirking, he settled back in the seat. "Your Dowayne has the particulars of what I require for tomorrow." The carriage rolled to a stop at my House. The door opened and the Comte handed me out. Without another word, he was gone.
I fled into Valerian and straight to my room. I knelt in the stream of sunlight coming through the window. Closing my eyes I felt Louvel's lips brushing mine. Tomorrow was too far away.
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