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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 11, 2011 15:06:07 GMT -5
How many days in a carriage? Nights at the miserable little hovels that pass for inns in these wretched parts. Watered ale and sandpaper wine. I'd lost count, probably for the sake of my own sanity. I despise travelling – it leaves one alone with one's thoughts and one's memories, and there's little one can do to dull the edge of remembrance, since too much alcohol on top of the rattling of a coach is simply another route to hell. Suffice to say, I have had more miserable experiences than a short-notice trip deep into Navarre but, in recent years, not many of them. And all because Noelle had sent me a prettily worded letter, claiming she would practically expire without me at her side.
Something to do with a dying aunt and a large inheritance, I think. Here's to hoping the old bat at least has the courtesy to snuff it efficiently. Mind you, there could be worse fates than being stranded in the country as the only source of entertainment for a bored Noelle. That could lead anywhere...
Our relationship is, and has always been, founded on mutual self-interest. In short, we amuse each other. And I wouldn't deny a spark of reciprocal desire. At least, I think it's reciprocal. But then it's that edge of uncertainty that keeps it interesting for both of us. All the same, hurtling across the land at her summons was starting to make it look distressingly like I cared.
Which, for the record, I don't.
I just happen to like her a little bit more than I like anyone else in the world. And given the vast disappointment that is humanity, that's worth something to me.
Worth the agony of a carriage ride across Terre d'Ange? Well, that remained to be seen. Besides, it wasn't as if the city was going to be half as much fun without Noelle in it with me.
Arriving at the rambling old pile of stones that was possibly going to form part of this inheritance, I climbed out of the carriage grateful, at least, to be on solid earth again. I looked up into the slate grey sky, to see the outline of spires, turrets and crumbling battlements. There was even a flurry of ravens to complete the picture of utter desolation and it crossed my mind, not for the first time, that this was Noelle's idea of a joke. It would be entirely like her, although thus far it had been the kind of scheme we unleashed on other people.
People like us – we don't turn on our own. It's quite frankly far too dangerous.
Still, having come so far, getting back in the carriage was not an option. I was rumpled, tired, aching and travel-stained. I crunched up the gravel to the door, and knocked vigorously with the head of my swordcane, eschewing the lion-knocker that seems to be de rigeur for such places. When the inevitable insect-eating hunchback opened the door, and made an attempt on my life, I would at least be ready for him.
Although in a less gothic tale, it would be Noelle, throwing herself into my arms, and calling me her saviour...
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Jul 11, 2011 16:02:04 GMT -5
Sweet Elua, but life was horrible. No sooner had my father received notice that my aunt was quite sick than he told me I was to go to her at once, and apparently when he said at once, he meant it. I had two days to ready myself before I was shipped off, and when the realization settled in that he was serious, the first thing I did was write to Gauvain, begging him sweetly to come save me from sure despair and free me at least partially from the bonds of duty. I would go, but Father never said I couldn't invite another along, now did he?
The carriage ride to my aunts was miserably, but I consoled myself to the fact that Gauvain would receive my letter and come immediately. I fancied him smiling and calling for his carriage at once, demanding his things be packed and brought on the turn of a copper, but truth was, he likely grumbled about it, paced and sulked, and if he did decide to come (something I was rather disgruntled in not being sure of) he would do it without a flicker of a smile on his wickedly beautiful mouth. I'd have to make it up to him, I was sure, but that could be as oddly sweet and entertaining to itself.
Truth be, I didn't think I wanted him to shout and leap for joy at my summons, not that I'd ever tell him that. I rather liked knowing he did something not because he wanted to, but because I asked it of him, and he did it only to please me. So, as it was, I tended my aunt as she lay on her bed, tended her when she felt well enough to sit out in her gardens. I read to her and gave her pretty smiles, I smoothed her hair back and kissed her brow when she was awake... but thanks be she slept most of the time, and I was spared the agonizing duty of being kindly to a woman who might give her fortunes to me. That I would enjoy, even if her estate was... less than appropriate. I was lolling beside a window on the upper floor when I saw a bit of a dust cloud in the distance, and it caught my attention near immediately. I watched it as it rolled closer, turning into a carriage once it crested a hill, and by the time it pulled into the gates, I was struggling to swallow a squeal of joy. He came! Hurriedly I checked my dress over; deep blue with lighter blue slashed through it, it was demure enough for my Aunt with my hair coiled up, but not for Vain. Plucking the pins out, I let my hair tumble free and I mussed it while watching him stroll up, and, applying a quick bit of kohl to my lashes, I made my way down to him, lips free of any carmine. I didn't want to look like I made myself up just for him, of course.
No sooner did my toes touch the landing than his knock was echoing through the halls, and I paused behind an elderly maid, letting her open the door while I lounged back, my smile blooming across my lips as Gauvain appeared into view.
"Vain," I said, still just barely keeping the treble of joy tempered as I closed the distance, and, forgoing propriety, I threw my arms 'round his neck and pressed my face to his neck. "You came, you came! Gods be thanked, I've needed you so here!"
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 12, 2011 10:04:29 GMT -5
The door was opened by a grotesque harridan of advanced years who eyed me with utter contempt but then I heard my name, uttered in a familiar voice, and the next thing I knew my arms were full of a warm, soft, coo-ing Noelle. Had we been different creatures I would have wrapped my arms about her in return, held her tight, and inhaled the scent of her hair. Maybe I would even have muttered some putrid nonsense about how there was never any doubt I’d be at her side when she wanted me – although that would likely have been a lie.
It’s hard tell though. I don’t yet know the extent to which I’m willing simply to please her. Apart from this little excursion to Misery Manor she’s never suggested I do anything that I haven’t already been willing to do. Even seducing the Marquise d’Evreux. That hadn’t precisely been pleasant but it had been terribly, terribly funny. Afterwards, at least. Noelle could do a devastatingly precise impression of the woman at the height of ecstasy – a gift we had shared with, well, everyone. I wondered idly what had happened to the dear Marquise. Last we'd heard she had been in Alba, with no plans to return. But then, given what it's said they do with their sheep in Alba, she'd be right at home there.
The idea that Noelle thought she needed me, however, flattered my vanity, even though I should know better. Noelle tends to need things until she has them. No wonder she owned such ungodly quantity of shoes. To save us both from the dangers of sincerity, I whirled her round extravagantly before depositing her back on her feet. There’s a sort of game here – when both parties want to touch each other, you win by letting go first. And then I looked her boldly up and down, curling my lips into the usual sardonic, suggestive smile.
“I hope when I’m dying,” I drawled, “my nurse looks like you.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Jul 14, 2011 17:10:50 GMT -5
I liked how he picked me up and twirled me as if I weighed nothing; secretly it pleased me, being trim and small, though I'd die before I ever admitted as much outloud to anyone, let alone Vain. Very nearly I pouted when he let go of me, but I forced it away, instead giving him a pretty smile as if I wasn't bothered at all by it, preferring not to be touched than to have his hands lingering on me.
His comment though made the pretty smile on my lips deepen, and I reached, patting his cheek gently. "I hope you didn't spend the entire trip thinking that line up," I responded, laughing; it did sound like a line, and part of me wondered if he was testing it out on me to see its effectiveness for future conquests. "Come on, darling man. The servants will tend your belongings; your room is just down the hall from mine."
So lightly given, nonchalantly, as if it didn't matter, but the building here was old enough that there were shared bathing rooms rather than ones in each suite, something I'd already debated using to my advantage if the situation arose. Slipping my arm through his, I began to lead him into the ugly old home, ignoring the candles and lamps, the pretty tapestries that were an attempt to make it less horrid and stoic. "My aunt is sleeping yet again.. Do you know, she sleeps more than a badger in winter! I've never seen the likes of it before."
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 15, 2011 7:13:16 GMT -5
Noelle smiles prettily when I touch her, as if I were any other man. It’s infuriating. I mean, it’s not as if I expect her to climax with instantaneous delight the moment I lay a hand on her, but some small hint that she’s more than mildly indifferent to my attentions would be pleasing. But, then, that’s not how the game is played is it?
And as for deriding “my line” – well, that was truly galling. Not so much that she saw right through me, for that’s one of the things I appreciate about our friendship, or whatever it is we have. I find the fact that someone in this world knows just what a manipulative, self-serving cad I am, and doesn’t care in the slightest, a peculiar sort of comfort. But she had dared to imply my wit was the product of study! The little minx.
“Really, my dear,” I said, turning the blade of her insult, I thought, rather neatly, “if you believe men need time and effort to praise your beauty you do yourself no service.”
I let her lead me through the monstrosity that was our temporary home. The only bright spot on the horizon seemed to be that my room was close to hers. That, surely, had to offer some advantages.
“And, as for your aunt," I went on, to forestall any pouting that might arise as a consequence of my previous comment, "I can only suppose she’s practicing for death. At least you can’t be expected to nurse her if she’s asleep all the time, which will liberate you for more rewarding pleasures.” I flashed her sidelong smile. “Like entertaining me.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Jul 18, 2011 9:14:57 GMT -5
I glanced up at him as he spoke, amusement thick in my smile and eyes. Undoubtedly he disliked it that I called him out on his line, but after such a display of affection I'd given him and he'd stepped away from, I couldn't let him think I was all simper and agonizingly missing him. That would never do.
"Oh, I don't think they need spend any time thinking of compliments to me," I said, my smile turning impish in the blink of an eye. We rounded a corner and I angled us towards the stairs, intent on showing him where his room was, and the bathing room, but too not having an intentions on pointing out which was mine; let him try to figure that one out on his own.
He made the impish smile on my face grow, til I was laughing and swatting his arm lightly. "Oh you fiend. You're very right though, it's far more appealing to spend my time entertaining you rather than reading to her. But, do tell me! How goes society in Eisande? I feel so dreadfully removed from everything here; it's like this awful spot in Namarre is in a different part of the world."
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 18, 2011 11:25:44 GMT -5
The woman was infuriating. Was it ever possible to get the last word? She's like a kitten that's sunk its claws into your arm and will never get go. But she was smiling with such delightful devilry that it was hard to for me to feel anything except a sort of amused pleasure in her tenacity. Damn her. Her ability to turn my frustration into something perilously close to fondness is more than a little worrying. It gives her too many advantages in our game.
I was, however, laughing as I commented: “If ‘being with you is better than reading improving texts about virtue and piety to a dying old bat’ is the best you can come up with, I think you need to spend a bit more time studying the art of the compliment yourself.”
When it came to answering her question, however, I paused, growing momentarily (and rarely) serious. “I can answer you in one word, dearest, and the word is dull. There’s nothing for it,” I went on in the same grave tone, betrayed only by the amusement in my eyes, “we must kill your aunt immediately. Everything is simply too boring with you stuck in Namarre. The world will thank us for it.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Jul 19, 2011 9:16:09 GMT -5
I cast him an amused smile as we ascended the stairs, one of my arms tucked neatly into his, and the opposite hand gathering my skirts and holding them daintily out of the way of my toes. "'Tis true, darling man, I fear my skills have rusted in this ungodly place. It's fortunate you've come to school me in such things."
My eyes near twinkled with mirth, and, rounding the top of the gently winding staircase, I let my skirts fall back to their natural position and listened to him as he recanted events in Eisande, then laughed as he insisted my aunts death would benefit the world. "As it is, I think I could be gone for months and come back only to convince her that I'd never been gone an hour, let alone a day. I can't imagine she'll be with us much longer. A pity," I added, pouting as if I meant it before letting it dissolve into a smile again. I'd never spent time with my aunt before; she was older than anyone I knew, and my time here was duty only, a duty I dearly wished to see the end of.
"This is your room," I said, following up on the tail of my own words. Turning the ornate, if aged, handle, I opened the door and stepped aside a touch to let him pass in ahead of me. "I had the maids air if out already and change the bedding, just on the far-fetched hope that you would take pity on me and come." My face was sincere, but my eyes held the sparkle again, smiling and teasing in their own right.
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 22, 2011 16:54:46 GMT -5
Her arm fitted so perfectly into mine, and I could feel the warmth of her body and the rustle of her skirts as she tripped along delicately at my side. Despite our games and our spite, or perhaps because of them, I sometimes think we are so alike that we were made for this alignment, like two perfectly matched, ill-tempered steeds that kept biting each other. Hmm, that simile was spiralling out of control on me but the sentiment was true enough.
I could help but smirk at her transparent attempts to pretend she gave a damp biscuit for her aunt's fate. Noelle is absurdly charming, at least to me, when she's blatantly being insincere. At least I know where I am with that.
I sauntered into my allocated bedroom. It was not entirely awful, and there were no obvious cobwebs, skeletons or monsters so I ought to have felt myself truly blessed. The stuffed moose head over the fireplace was not precisely high fashion but I suppose it could have been worse. It could have been the stuffed head of the last visitor, for example.
“It's terribly kind of you to pay such attention to my bedroom,” I purred.
I leaned suggestively against one of the bedposts. “Care to test the facilities, too?”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Jul 26, 2011 14:09:29 GMT -5
I watched him as he strolled in the room ahead of me; away from his sight, I was safe to admire the way his hips swayed, his broad shoulders and trim waist. Gauvain truly was built exceptionally well, something that aided both of us with our saucy games, and though I'd never let him see me admiring him outright without making sure he knew I was doing it on purpose, I still did admire.
Pulling the door gently, I let it swing shut behind me as I followed him in, pausing a few feet from him as he leaned oh-so-coyly against the bedpost. My smile deepened, and I strolled up to him the rest of the way, my hands moving to touch his waist, lightly brushing over it before moving my hands up, over his ribs, his chest, til I could loop my arms atop both his shoulders and clasp my fingers behind his neck. "Who's to say I haven't already?" I murmured, my eyes flashing in pure fiendish delight as I pressed up against him, settling my body in snugly.
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Jul 30, 2011 13:04:15 GMT -5
Leaning against the bedpost had been a bad idea in retrospect. Yes, it looked, I'm sure, dashing as anything when I was posed to perfection but then Noelle sauntered across the room and slipped her arms around my neck, like two twin serpents. Under normal circumstances I am more than happy to receive her embraces – cruelly transient though they tend to be – but between her body and the bedpost at my back I had a sudden, overwhelming sensation of being trapped, and it was all I could do to stop myself flinging her instinctively away from me. In fact, the only thing that prevented me was the far greater fear of looking like a prize idiot in front of Noelle.
I could not, however, control the panicky breath that rushed out of me, nor the double-time of my heart. But those, symptoms, I knew could easily pass for desire – and in a moment or two, when rationality conquered instinct, and my body recognised Noelle, it would be no feigning. I gathered the frayed cords of my self together, forced my body to relax although it felt like my nerve endings were screaming, and brought my hands to rest lightly on her hips.
I smiled down into her glittering eyes.
“Having already laid eyes on the residents of this household,” I said, “I must conclude that any pleasure you've experienced, in this bed or any other, has been of the solitary persuasion. But if you wish to demonstrate, I will not raise an objection.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Aug 2, 2011 13:11:27 GMT -5
He reacted exactly how I could have wanted it; a sharp intake of breath, a stiffness of his body before he relaxed into me, his eyes trained down on me and not flickering away. The stiffness of his body was rather nice; I could feel him, his chest and ribs, his hips and stomach, how hard he could be, his muscles kept in obvious shape. The smile softened on my mouth more, and I didn't wriggle against him, but I did shift a little, just enough that he could feel my breasts press into his chest more, swelling up over the neckline of my dress, and he could feel too my hips as they settled against his. I'd always wondered what sort of.. package he hid behind his fashionable breeches, and silently I wondered how I could get him out of them without taking my own clothes off. A delicate dance.. and one he played just as well as me.
His words brought a low laugh from me, sultry and not at all polite and feigned. "You haven't seen the stable boys," I murmured, bringing one hand forward. Gently I caressed my fingertip over the outside of his face, tracing the line of his exquisite jaw as I leaned in a little more, this time with my face closer to his rather than my body. "Nor the little scullery maid. New enough that her hands are still soft, and her breasts.. I always did have a weakness for darker nipples upon a paler skin."
It was a lie, all of it; I'd not slept with any of them since I arrived, finding them and this place too distasteful, but the stable boys did exist and one at least was fetching, and the scullery maid too was pretty. Not my type; I could see the cattiness under it, and unless there was wealth and power behind that type of attitude, it was a waist. Girls like that should be innocent and biddable, after all.
Leaning the rest of the way, I let my lips caress over the corner of his, a light brush that didn't let up as I whispered against his skin. I could smell his cologne, the scent earthy and masculine, and I'd have lied if I said it didn't cause a little stir between my thighs. "Perhaps I should leave you to settle in," I breathed before kissing the corner of his mouth. "Unless you'd like to continue the tour, that is."
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Aug 3, 2011 6:17:02 GMT -5
Noelle was truly a mistress of the tease; thankfully I’m not such a poor player of such games myself. And my discomfort, though it was fading now, was for, perhaps the first time in my life, an advantage. It meant I did not entirely abandon myself to the taunting promise of pleasure she dangled before me like a carrot on a string. I would not be led by her, no matter how sweet her caresses or how soft her breasts. I’m sure she was enjoying herself – when it comes to sins of the flesh there is nothing feigned about Noelle’s enthusiasm – but I was quite certain she wanted, and maybe even expected, me to lose control of the situation. And then surely mockery would follow.
I had every intention of having Noelle at some point in the future, but it would be on my terms, not hers, and she would be the one to yield to desire, while I remained the master of mine. She would be worth my patience. And even if the short-term was maddening, it only made the game more enticing, and I would have revenge enough for all her coquetry when she begged and panted for release in my arms. In victory, of course, I would be merciful. So merciful she would find no bitterness in her defeat.
I reached up and caught her wrist, with just a suggestion of roughness, a reminder that I was too dangerous to be toyed with. I am, after all, considerably stronger than she is. I kept her trapped in the position she had chosen, pressed against me, our faces so close it made lovers of our mingling breath.
“Oh my poor girl,” I said, in a tone dripping with honey-rich sympathy, a stark contrast to the violence of my touch, “you’ve been forced to fall back on crude pleasures indeed. Is that all it takes, these days? The ploughing of a stableboy’s cock and some hands that are not entirely rough?”
I released her abruptly, and strolled towards the door. I didn’t know whether she was lying about her adventures, but that didn't matter. The images themselves were enough to torment me with an excruciating mixture of petty jealousy and twisted desire.
“Some day,” I said, lightly, as if I wasn’t affected in the slightest, “I may take pity on you and remind you what a true connoisseur can do. But for now perhaps you’d better continue your tour?”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Aug 3, 2011 14:04:51 GMT -5
He caught my wrist up, quick as a snake, his grip a hair shy of harsh, a taste of what might come if I pushed him too far. I couldn't help the smile that grew over my lips just as much as I couldn't help but like it - I liked that he was stronger than me, that he wasn't afraid of showing it... and I liked, too, that I pushed him into demonstrating it. Oh, I liked it, but I did not like the idea of actually losing control of the situation. That was unacceptable with anyone, and with Vain? Tolerable. Barely. His breath caressed across my lips, but I resisted kissing him again, listening to him with a controlled, amused smile on my mouth as he murmured fake sentiments to me, then abruptly let go and left.
I stood there, alone where we'd both been here before, watching him as he continued to demonstrate that he had the upperhand, and that he would control the situation. I laughed, low and sultry still as I reached up, feeling along my locks, smoothing them back down. "Oh, don't be cross with me, Vain," I said as I made my way over to him. Gone was the coy smile, the lioness-on-the-prowl; it was if with the door opening, a breeze had washed through, bringing more lightness to my demeanor, more relaxation. "You know I would never actually tell you if I slept with someone on your bed."
My grin flashed out to him as I walked past him and into the hallway again, but there was no barbs in it, only playful teasing. Reaching, I slipped my arm in his again, holding it and gesturing further down the hallway, the direction we were to walk in. "Do tell me what you've been up to in Eisande though... there has to be something that has kept your interest this long."
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Aug 4, 2011 5:35:44 GMT -5
The atmosphere changed with her laughter, the smothering tension giving way to our usual pretence of comfortable mischief. I hadn’t realised, until that moment, quite how tightly we’d both been wound, and how close to a very dangerous edge we had come. My palm burned where I’d held her wrist, and my flesh remembered the contrast of her soft, yielding body and the bedpost at my back, as I was melted wax to take whatever impression was laid upon me. This memory would likely me haunt me – perhaps tonight, in this very bed.
But I laughed, and reached out to tweak a few of the ruffled strands of her sleek dark hair back into place. “I’m never cross with you, my dear, you make it impossible.”
I let her take my arm and we strolled into the corridor, friends again, or as near to it as people like us are capable are being. “If there was anything even remotely interested in Eisande, do you think I’d have been willing to come to Horrorsville to stay with you, hmm? Although,” I went on, pausing briefly to regard a carved gargoyle that seemed to be watching us both with malice, “this place must surely have some exciting crannies and dark nooks. Tell me, have you met a ghost yet? Or found a skeleton?”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Aug 31, 2011 23:20:16 GMT -5
I'd never admit it out loud, but I liked when he touched my hair, even in small tweaks like the ones he'd just bestowed upon me. Somewhere deep inside me, I wanted him to run his fingers through my tresses, wanted to feel his lips and teeth against the bare skin of my neck, wanted to feel his body press firmly against mine... all things, too, that I would never speak aloud to him. Besides, giving into those things would ruin the game of our friendship; where was there to go once we'd finally given in to the lust that always seemed to cloak us when we were together? We'd be no better off than those sorry chits and chaps that we bedded and left, and I refused to give my Vain up... especially not for one night of passion.
I held his arm, picking my free hand up to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his able hand as we strolled. If I could pretend well enough, I could say we weren't here, in this gods-forsaken place, but in the City perhaps, meandering and picking out new challenges for the other as we moved. He spoke, though, and a laugh bubbled up from me, deep and throaty and fully, appreciating his apt name for the house my great Aunt owned.
"No ghosts or skeletons, just myself, a couple of servants, and my dear, sweet, timeless old Aunt. The poor thing," I added, mocking sincerity. My eyes flashed deviously, but before more could be said, a voice called timidly down the hall towards us.
"Lady Noelle? I'm sorry, I hate to interrupt.. it's her Ladyship, she's awake and calling for you."
The girl winced -- Aurie, I thought her name was, and I sighed. "It'll only take a moment," I assured him, disappointed, though almost instantly the deviousness came back. "Would you like to come?"
I wouldn't force him, and for as much as I knew Vain, I wasn't sure if he would choose to go or not. He would, I though, if for no other reason than the fact that I was all he had here... and truth was, he was all I had, too.
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Sept 1, 2011 13:46:58 GMT -5
My skin prickled under the idle motions of her fingertips. It was not unpleasant, and brought no shattering memories of constraint, and worse. If anything, she touched me absent-mindedly, as a cat arches against something it deems its property by instinct alone. Was that what it was, then? A hint of possession. Not entirely unflattering. After all, we only desire that which we value, although it's only the act of pursuit that makes the thing both valuable and desired in the first place. No, whatever Noelle already had of me, she could never know it – for then we'd both have to witness the hollow truth of all that pursuit and desire. Nothing but smoke and mirrors.
Regardless, I was familiar enough with her ways that I was sure she knew exactly what she was doing. And I affected an easy disregard, although my gaze strayed occasionally to the path she traced as if she burrowed into my veins like a beautiful poison. And, I, indeed was surely an addict. That deep, rich, inhibited laugh of hers made me as giddy as a boy sometimes.
I was, however, prevented from properly enjoying it because someone had the temerity to interrupt us. A serving girl with a message – I couldn't help wondering, as I surveyed her with languid predatory interest, if she was the girl whose breasts Noelle had made a point of appreciating earlier. They were certainly … adequate.
And then, oh splendid, an invitation – in Noelle's most wickedly taunting voice – to waste my time by the bedside of some random dying harridan. My first impulse was to respond most emphatically in the negative. Perhaps even adding something to the effect that I'd rather wank a badger with my bare hands. But then calmer reflection took over. What was I going to do without Noelle? Sit and stare the walls? Try and lift the skirt of the maid with the adequate breasts? And perhaps this way I could impress Noelle with the dazzling extent of my two-faced charm. I haven't met a dragon I couldn't win over with a smile.
“Well, all right,” I said ungraciously. “But bear in mind you are accruing some serious debts, young lady.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Sept 19, 2011 16:57:27 GMT -5
I watched as he pondered his options and came to the conclusion that I'd hoped, if not dared expect, that he'd make. My smile grew before a throaty laugh tumbled from me, and for the briefest of moments, I let my guises go. I appreciated him and didn't mind that he knew that I did, but I didn't want him to know just how much I enjoyed him. Still, I bobbed him a little curtsy before tuning to make my way to the patio where her Ladyship awaited.
The mask descended over me again as we moved, and I walked on my own now, no longer touching him. "You are too kind," I repeated, mirth still in my voice. My skirts swished on my ankles, creating a pleasant feel of silk-on-skin, for I wore no hosery below my chemise.
"That was her, by the by," I commented as we moved, and I glanced up those long inches to him, amusement and calculations both sparkling my dark eyes. Did he believe the story that I'd bedded her, and had for myself her generous... merits? "Aurie. How does she suit?" I queried, the sparkle in my eye brightening as the humor deepened. A challenge could be garnered out of this, simply done and quickly over I suspected.
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Sept 20, 2011 6:23:40 GMT -5
I followed the suddenly demure Noelle towards what I presumed must be her Aunt’s chambers, and took the opportunity to admire the view. Her skirts gathered around her legs as she walked, outlining very pleasantly for me the supple curves of her rather delectable body. The rustle of silk seemed an invitation to pleasure, whispering sensual promises, taunting one slightly with the notion that mere fabric touched skin that was meant for the caress of a lover’s hands.
My hands, most specifically.
Oh, we were back on the servant. It was difficult to muster any enthusiasm for her limited charms when Noelle shimmered like a mirage of heaven and hell before me, craved and out of reach. But, still, it wouldn’t do for her to know that.
I cast an indifferent look over my shoulder, caught the girl’s gaze, and held it until she gasped, blushed and looked away – trapped, like a roe deer, somewhere between terror and attraction. “Well, one has to content oneself with the limited entertainments of the country ,” I said, carelessly. “Do you want me to tup her for you?” A tedious business, most likely, but if I was lucky the wench would enliven it by a little resistance.
I fell into step beside her again, so she could see me smirking. “You can watch if you like – see what you’re missing.” I paused. "Or did you want to make a challenge of it?"
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Sept 28, 2011 7:18:22 GMT -5
I watched, amused and interested, as he cast a glance over his shoulder and towards the voluptuous slip of a maid, if such a thing were possible. Oh, to my eyes Vain looked bored, much like a man who was humoring me rather than actually interested. The maid, however, saw something much different, and I gave a low laugh as she fluttered and averted her gaze.
"I don't think she would give much of a challenge to you, or I," I responded, my voice still holding much mirth, but pitched low enough that the innocent little being behind us couldn't hear. "We'd have to create something out of it, I think..."
If my eyes weren't sparkling with humor before, they were now, after he invited me to watch. Randy man! I was going to offer to watch, and he asked before I even could. Our minds apparently were too well matched, and not for the first time I was glad he was on my side, such as it was. If there was one person in this world that I knew I could count on, it was Vain. My Vain.
I still didn't touch him, but the ever lingering longing to do so was there. He didn't feel such a thing, I was sure, at least not how I did, and because of that I'd vowed to myself to never let him know. I wasn't in love with him, but I liked being close to him for the affection of it; he liked being close to me, I suspected, because he'd never once been able to climb up my skirts. And never would - where was the charm and interest in letting him have his way?
"It'd have to be something more difficult, anyway," I added as we strolled. "As it stands, I'm fairly certain she'd let you have her in the middle of the hallway, against a wall."
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Sept 28, 2011 10:03:02 GMT -5
“And in such a dreary hallway too,” I said, with a deep, insincerely mocking sigh.
I dismissed the maid from my thoughts, preferring instead to enjoy Noelle, who was glittering – even in such a dreary hallway - as she always did when she was formulating something wicked for our mutual entertainment.
I fell into step beside her again, noticing the way she walked close, but did not touch me. I could feel the lapping of her skirts though, and the heat from her body, and so I insinuated my arm about her slender waist, as if my motivations were solely companionable. As if we were friends just walking side-by-side in easy company. Well, I suppose a tepid concept like friendship could apply to our relationship but we were so much than that. Rivals, lovers, (the latter tbc, but I was working on it), soul mates to our corrupt hearts, twin demons, beautiful monsters, dragging ruination in our wake.
We were precisely the partner the other deserved, selfish, debased, incapable of love, utterly irresistible. I adore her because she's like me.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, curious and just a little apprehensive, since Noelle’s best ideas are also her most dangerous. “Never let it be said I shy from a challenge – if the prize,” I cast her a significant look, “is worth the trouble.”
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Post by Noelle d'Aubigne on Sept 29, 2011 14:49:39 GMT -5
As if he could read my thoughts, Vain so slyly slid an arm around my waist, gathering me up neatly beside him while we ambled on down the hall. I permitted myself a tiny smile of satisfaction, and the piece of me that enjoyed the touch was firmly squelched until it ceased to exist.
We turned down a separate hall, angling for a different set of stairs, one that would lead us down to a door going to the outside. She would be in the gardens this time of day, and would sit out there through the rain and snow if the staff did not pull her back inside. I left it to them, too - I was here to be her companion, not her bloody nursemaid.
When Vain asked what it was I had in mind, the tiny smile grew, malicious and devilish as my dark gaze flickered up to his fairer one. "Well, that depends. A challenge certainly would liven things up here, but I cannot afford to ruin the girl, lest my poor, poor old Aunt learns of it in one of her clear moments. Aurie's mother is one of my Aunts favorites servants." Had we been standing, I would have crossed my arms under my breasts or drummed my fingers against my lower lip, but as it was, I merely smoothed my dress out over my hips as we reached the top of the stairs, and I took in his handsome eyes once more. It was no wonder girls fell all over themselves for him - Vain was a solid wall of confidence and arrogance, a damn near irresistible combination. He was used to getting what he wanted, as was I.
"Have you ever conned one of your conquests into sleeping with another to please you?" My eyes flashed with wicked humor. "One that she perhaps does not wish to? And allow you to watch it, of course," I added, as if an afterthought.
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Post by Gauvain de Versac on Oct 1, 2011 10:34:43 GMT -5
I had no idea where we going; this place was a veritable Gothic labyrinth. With its very own tedious spinster aunt of a Minotaur at the centre. But then Noelle could be my spool of thread, drawing me back towards the safer pleasures of vice and indulgence. All the same, I was glad I had an arm about her waist, I wouldn't put it past her to run off, laughing, leaving me to the mercy of her Aunt. Urgh.
I wasn't particularly disappointed by her preference that I didn't ruin the maid, since although games of power and control appeal to me, the actual tawdry business of the ruining was liable to uninteresting. But having my behaviour checked tends to rankle with me. And unless Noelle found some other ways to entertain me while I was here, I resolved to ruin the maid on principle. It would serve as a perhaps necessary reminder to Noelle that I am no-one's toy, not even hers.
All the same, it wasn't entirely easy to remember that as I looked down into her wicked, laughing eyes. There's one of her smiles I find peculiarly tempting. I think I want to kiss it, but not so sweetly.
“Really, Noelle,” I said, lightly mocking her, “that sounds like you want me to do all the work, and you to have all the pleasure.”
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