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runicloreTitle: Lapis Rose [1/?]
Author: Amber Michelle
Rating: PG (at most).
Setting: The official IoM whatthefuckverse
Notes: inspired by our comment thread in response to Hear Reproach No More and the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15minuteficlets word for 02.14.06. How appropriate. Spent way longer than fifteen minutes on it, though.
* * *
Raeger didn't even bother to huddle behind her screen when she undressed, simply attacking the laces at her back the moment her door clicked shut. Her mother's tirade was still audible through the dark wood, but the words were nearly indistinguishable, and after an emphatic /something/ that the girl didn't quite catch, silence fluttered uneasily over the halls once more.
She yanked the last ribbon out and shrugged out of her dress, only managing by dumb luck not to trip on the hem. She tossed it over the stool at her dressing table.
The stupid thing made her ribs hurt. Breathing wasn't as overrated as her mother seemed to think it was, and she didn't see anyone stuffing her spoiled little sister into a wood-ribbed contraption like the one she'd just thrown off, anyway, so it couldn't be as comely as they claimed. 'They' called it a dress. She thought it must be the latest in a new line of torture devices over at the castle Tower.
There was a knock at her door. "Miss--"
Bertha, she saw with a glance. "Go away," Raeger grumbled, and flopped onto her bed. Her petticoats poofed in a frothy mess.
She could see the maid's face darken into a frown. "Your mother says you're to go right to bed and be ready to meet with the Lords Millais an hour after dawn. I'll be here to run your bath and get you ready, and don't give me any trouble, miss, or she'll hear about it."
Raeger gave an unladylike snort and didn't reply. A little old to cower before her mother, wasn't she? She should've let them cart her off to school when they offered. Refusing had only ended with her in this mess. And Bertha, however nice she'd been during Raeger's younger years, seemed to be all for marrying her off and getting her out of the house. A lady's duty, she said, and seemed to think it should make everyone happy.
Bertha harumphed and closed the door, leaving Raeger in the dark. Moonlight peeked through a crack in the curtains, and a fire burned at the grate, but only one candle had been lit at her bedside, and the rest of her room was shadowed.
If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that it probably wasn't that bad. Her mother had made arrangements with the patriarch of the Millais house a few years ago without telling her, setting up a match with his oldest son, Lawfer. They were new to the nobility, and, she privately thought, not too picky about what families they married into; any at all would be lucky, with how snobbish the Artolian nobility could be when the sniffed 'new money' in their vicinity. Raeger wasn't the prettiest rose of the lot, or so her father said, and she was talentless except for her knack with the children. They seemed to think this qualified her for early motherhood. If she couldn't do anything else, she could see to her 'lady's duty.'
She rolled her eyes and turned on her side, reaching back to untie the waistband of her petticoats and kicking them off, so she could flop back in just her long chemise. Lawfer was kind of nice looking, at least, not that she knew him. He could be a right bastard for all she knew.
That's what she hated about it, really. She had a few friends - only a few, but they were good ones - who'd already been married off and moved away. They sent letters now and then when they could find someone willing to brave the roads. Marie actually liked her husband and already had a child, an adorable baby girl that she'd sketched on the corner of her letter - she had talents in spades, but she'd always been an angel about it. Sarah and Louisa, on the other hand, didn't have much encouraging to say.
'He wants what he wants,' Louisa had written after the first few months, 'and then goes away and leaves me alone for ages, and then comes back and expects me to be dressed pretty and play at the harp for his friends. Then he goes away again. It's not half bad when he's gone.'
Neither said anything about the wooden corsets, but she thought women in general probably harbored a deep-seated, unspoken horror of the things that any female within fifty paces would recognize and understand if the subject came up. Sarah said they used steel in Villnore, which made her cringe.
They would stuff her into another one tomorrow. Couldn't let the prospective in-laws see one ounce of baby fat on their purchase, after all.
Eventually Raeger's thoughts grew jumbled and then calmed, and her eyes drifted closed. The crackle of the fire and settling of the logs fell into the background, and the distant sound of a windchime lulled her into a half-dream of tea in a cold, drafty room.
A gust of wind, freezing and definitely real, jolted her out of the half nap, snuffing the candle. The fire was burning low. When she looked around, her sleepy eye caught her curtains billowed, the lacy underhang ghostly in the moodlight as they settled. But when she got up to draw them aside and close the window, it wasn't open.
She puzzled over that a moment, chewing on her lip. It /could/ have been a draft. With a shrug she fumbled her way back to the bed and climbed on, drawing the curtains at the foot of the bed, and on both sides. Bertha usually did it for her, but no point in calling her up for something silly like that.
"You know," an unfamiliar voice said, "Most girls would light the candles at once and go running for their maids. This makes things so much easier."
Raeger froze, halfway under the covers. A chill that had nothing to do with the draft crept over her skin and raised goosebumps. His chuckle, when she didn't answer, made her want to dive under, or run for her maid like he'd said. It came from the side near her window; her face burned when she thought of how she'd run out there with so little cover.
"W-who are you and what are you doing here?" She tried to put a little steel in her voice, but it wavered despite her intentions.
"Your savior, I'd think." There was a pause, and it sounded like he sat down in the chair by her nightstand. His voice was a little closer when he spoke again, a smooth, refined tenor. "Unless you're thrilled at this situation, but that isn't what I sense."
She ignored the warning bells in her head and yanked one of the curtains back to glare into the darkness. Now that her eyes had time to adjust she could see a dim form seated in the armchair, but not much more than that. "I don't see what that has to do with /you/." She bit her lip again, brow furrowing. "What are you doing here - how did you even get in?" The window flashed to mind, but it was closed and locked. "Get out!"
She felt him smile. It was a palpable thing. "Why don't you listen to what I have to say first?"
Raeger stared at the shadow, her grip on the curtain white-knuckled. There were stories about this sort of thing. Dozens, in the books on her shelf right there on the opposite wall, about dark nighttime visitors and the curses of Hel, that she'd told to scare her friends. They used to gather in her room during parties, or in one of the others' if the event was at someone else's manor, and scared each other into a huddling, giggling mess until the fire grew low and they were too scared to leave its dwindling semi-circle of light.
It was always the pretty, sighing maidens that the villains in her books went after, however, and Raeger knew she wasn't one of those.
He continued when she didn't say anything, apparently taking her silence as a desire to listen. "You were almost calling to me with your misery - I would have felt the blow in Lorien, had I been there. They just told you tonight, didn't they?" Again the smile, lost in the dark but somehow audible in his voice. "An unworthy trick, most unfair." His voice softened and the amusement disappeared, becoming wistful and almost sympathetic. "But you have a choice, my lady. There is always a choice."
"I don't understand." She wished she could see him, but another part of her cringed from the thought. "And I'm not a lady." Ladies didn't allow strange men to sit in their rooms, and she couldn't scrape up the courage to turn her back on him even to run.
"Your blood is as blue as the royal house, lady, and probably sweeter. But, if you insist..." the shadow leaned forward - and she shrank back, hand trembling on the curtain - but he only reached for the candle. A flame lit on the wick between his fingers, and he drew his hand back. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves."
He looked young, only a little older than she was, but very pale, as if his skin had absorbed the moonlight let in by her curtains. His face was carved like marble and chiseled by the stark shadows - sharp, but like a blade. He could have been the son of a kitsune from Yamato, but his eyes were the wrong shape and too pale a blue. Like his skin, they gave the impression of being cold and lifeless.
But they were intense for all that, and Raeger found herself pulling the coverlet up to her neck with her free hand. "Well?"
The smile was as sharp as his features promised. "Judas oth'Llorien. My fortunes are many and varied, but the only one you might recognize is the stores of Amenti."
Amenti. The glint of an earring caught her eye as if he'd planned it, and she saw a tiny golden ankh dangling from one ear.
"Isn't it your turn?"
"Er." She felt her cheeks getting hot again. "Raeger." He must know her family name if he was listening in on the proceedings below - and he had to be listening in to know about it. That raised the question of just how long he'd been lurking, and she decided not to think about that.
Lorien - but that was another story, about as unreal as Amenti. He must be lying.
His smile told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Now, I believe I was about to make an offer."
"... I don't know who you are," she said slowly, voice sinking almost to a whisper. How long was he watching? "But ladies don't take offers from strange men, so I think you should leave."
An eyebrow arched. "I thought you said you weren't a lady."
"I said get out."
He rose, and Raeger shrank back into her pillows. But he only bowed gracefully. "As you wish." He flicked his hand, and the candle went out.
Raeger blinked rapidly against the sudden darkness and let go of the curtain to rub her eyes. It fell with a heavy rustle and lay still, the silence after heavy and complete. She tried to hold her breath and listen for a sign of his location, some slither of that elegant coat, or a footstep, and heard nothing.
For what felt like hours she lay there, trying not to shake. Sleep wouldn't come. The idea of being helpless while that man was still out there-- she swallowed several times and managed to sit up and face the curtains. Bertha would be in at dawn, and she would be shocked, and maybe in danger if something wasn't done about this. So, hand trembling slightly, she grasped the curtain and yanked it open again. His shadow was gone.
She fumbled for a match and lit the candle, not quite trusting her eyes in the dark. Then she grabbed her robe from the bedpost and made sure she was wrapped up decently before she grabbed the light and searched every inch of her room. Even the closet, and under the bed. But, though she found no sign of her mysterious visitor, Raeger kept her bed curtains drawn and stayed huddled up against the headboard as long as she could remain awake.
She got no sleep that night. Dawn came welcome and reassuringly bright.
* * *
Right, I learned my lesson. I'll be posting this story in parts. No guarantees about how long you'll have to wait between installments. :P
Author: Amber Michelle
Rating: PG (at most).
Setting: The official IoM whatthefuckverse
Notes: inspired by our comment thread in response to Hear Reproach No More and the
15minuteficlets word for 02.14.06. How appropriate. Spent way longer than fifteen minutes on it, though.* * *
Raeger didn't even bother to huddle behind her screen when she undressed, simply attacking the laces at her back the moment her door clicked shut. Her mother's tirade was still audible through the dark wood, but the words were nearly indistinguishable, and after an emphatic /something/ that the girl didn't quite catch, silence fluttered uneasily over the halls once more.
She yanked the last ribbon out and shrugged out of her dress, only managing by dumb luck not to trip on the hem. She tossed it over the stool at her dressing table.
The stupid thing made her ribs hurt. Breathing wasn't as overrated as her mother seemed to think it was, and she didn't see anyone stuffing her spoiled little sister into a wood-ribbed contraption like the one she'd just thrown off, anyway, so it couldn't be as comely as they claimed. 'They' called it a dress. She thought it must be the latest in a new line of torture devices over at the castle Tower.
There was a knock at her door. "Miss--"
Bertha, she saw with a glance. "Go away," Raeger grumbled, and flopped onto her bed. Her petticoats poofed in a frothy mess.
She could see the maid's face darken into a frown. "Your mother says you're to go right to bed and be ready to meet with the Lords Millais an hour after dawn. I'll be here to run your bath and get you ready, and don't give me any trouble, miss, or she'll hear about it."
Raeger gave an unladylike snort and didn't reply. A little old to cower before her mother, wasn't she? She should've let them cart her off to school when they offered. Refusing had only ended with her in this mess. And Bertha, however nice she'd been during Raeger's younger years, seemed to be all for marrying her off and getting her out of the house. A lady's duty, she said, and seemed to think it should make everyone happy.
Bertha harumphed and closed the door, leaving Raeger in the dark. Moonlight peeked through a crack in the curtains, and a fire burned at the grate, but only one candle had been lit at her bedside, and the rest of her room was shadowed.
If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that it probably wasn't that bad. Her mother had made arrangements with the patriarch of the Millais house a few years ago without telling her, setting up a match with his oldest son, Lawfer. They were new to the nobility, and, she privately thought, not too picky about what families they married into; any at all would be lucky, with how snobbish the Artolian nobility could be when the sniffed 'new money' in their vicinity. Raeger wasn't the prettiest rose of the lot, or so her father said, and she was talentless except for her knack with the children. They seemed to think this qualified her for early motherhood. If she couldn't do anything else, she could see to her 'lady's duty.'
She rolled her eyes and turned on her side, reaching back to untie the waistband of her petticoats and kicking them off, so she could flop back in just her long chemise. Lawfer was kind of nice looking, at least, not that she knew him. He could be a right bastard for all she knew.
That's what she hated about it, really. She had a few friends - only a few, but they were good ones - who'd already been married off and moved away. They sent letters now and then when they could find someone willing to brave the roads. Marie actually liked her husband and already had a child, an adorable baby girl that she'd sketched on the corner of her letter - she had talents in spades, but she'd always been an angel about it. Sarah and Louisa, on the other hand, didn't have much encouraging to say.
'He wants what he wants,' Louisa had written after the first few months, 'and then goes away and leaves me alone for ages, and then comes back and expects me to be dressed pretty and play at the harp for his friends. Then he goes away again. It's not half bad when he's gone.'
Neither said anything about the wooden corsets, but she thought women in general probably harbored a deep-seated, unspoken horror of the things that any female within fifty paces would recognize and understand if the subject came up. Sarah said they used steel in Villnore, which made her cringe.
They would stuff her into another one tomorrow. Couldn't let the prospective in-laws see one ounce of baby fat on their purchase, after all.
Eventually Raeger's thoughts grew jumbled and then calmed, and her eyes drifted closed. The crackle of the fire and settling of the logs fell into the background, and the distant sound of a windchime lulled her into a half-dream of tea in a cold, drafty room.
A gust of wind, freezing and definitely real, jolted her out of the half nap, snuffing the candle. The fire was burning low. When she looked around, her sleepy eye caught her curtains billowed, the lacy underhang ghostly in the moodlight as they settled. But when she got up to draw them aside and close the window, it wasn't open.
She puzzled over that a moment, chewing on her lip. It /could/ have been a draft. With a shrug she fumbled her way back to the bed and climbed on, drawing the curtains at the foot of the bed, and on both sides. Bertha usually did it for her, but no point in calling her up for something silly like that.
"You know," an unfamiliar voice said, "Most girls would light the candles at once and go running for their maids. This makes things so much easier."
Raeger froze, halfway under the covers. A chill that had nothing to do with the draft crept over her skin and raised goosebumps. His chuckle, when she didn't answer, made her want to dive under, or run for her maid like he'd said. It came from the side near her window; her face burned when she thought of how she'd run out there with so little cover.
"W-who are you and what are you doing here?" She tried to put a little steel in her voice, but it wavered despite her intentions.
"Your savior, I'd think." There was a pause, and it sounded like he sat down in the chair by her nightstand. His voice was a little closer when he spoke again, a smooth, refined tenor. "Unless you're thrilled at this situation, but that isn't what I sense."
She ignored the warning bells in her head and yanked one of the curtains back to glare into the darkness. Now that her eyes had time to adjust she could see a dim form seated in the armchair, but not much more than that. "I don't see what that has to do with /you/." She bit her lip again, brow furrowing. "What are you doing here - how did you even get in?" The window flashed to mind, but it was closed and locked. "Get out!"
She felt him smile. It was a palpable thing. "Why don't you listen to what I have to say first?"
Raeger stared at the shadow, her grip on the curtain white-knuckled. There were stories about this sort of thing. Dozens, in the books on her shelf right there on the opposite wall, about dark nighttime visitors and the curses of Hel, that she'd told to scare her friends. They used to gather in her room during parties, or in one of the others' if the event was at someone else's manor, and scared each other into a huddling, giggling mess until the fire grew low and they were too scared to leave its dwindling semi-circle of light.
It was always the pretty, sighing maidens that the villains in her books went after, however, and Raeger knew she wasn't one of those.
He continued when she didn't say anything, apparently taking her silence as a desire to listen. "You were almost calling to me with your misery - I would have felt the blow in Lorien, had I been there. They just told you tonight, didn't they?" Again the smile, lost in the dark but somehow audible in his voice. "An unworthy trick, most unfair." His voice softened and the amusement disappeared, becoming wistful and almost sympathetic. "But you have a choice, my lady. There is always a choice."
"I don't understand." She wished she could see him, but another part of her cringed from the thought. "And I'm not a lady." Ladies didn't allow strange men to sit in their rooms, and she couldn't scrape up the courage to turn her back on him even to run.
"Your blood is as blue as the royal house, lady, and probably sweeter. But, if you insist..." the shadow leaned forward - and she shrank back, hand trembling on the curtain - but he only reached for the candle. A flame lit on the wick between his fingers, and he drew his hand back. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves."
He looked young, only a little older than she was, but very pale, as if his skin had absorbed the moonlight let in by her curtains. His face was carved like marble and chiseled by the stark shadows - sharp, but like a blade. He could have been the son of a kitsune from Yamato, but his eyes were the wrong shape and too pale a blue. Like his skin, they gave the impression of being cold and lifeless.
But they were intense for all that, and Raeger found herself pulling the coverlet up to her neck with her free hand. "Well?"
The smile was as sharp as his features promised. "Judas oth'Llorien. My fortunes are many and varied, but the only one you might recognize is the stores of Amenti."
Amenti. The glint of an earring caught her eye as if he'd planned it, and she saw a tiny golden ankh dangling from one ear.
"Isn't it your turn?"
"Er." She felt her cheeks getting hot again. "Raeger." He must know her family name if he was listening in on the proceedings below - and he had to be listening in to know about it. That raised the question of just how long he'd been lurking, and she decided not to think about that.
Lorien - but that was another story, about as unreal as Amenti. He must be lying.
His smile told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Now, I believe I was about to make an offer."
"... I don't know who you are," she said slowly, voice sinking almost to a whisper. How long was he watching? "But ladies don't take offers from strange men, so I think you should leave."
An eyebrow arched. "I thought you said you weren't a lady."
"I said get out."
He rose, and Raeger shrank back into her pillows. But he only bowed gracefully. "As you wish." He flicked his hand, and the candle went out.
Raeger blinked rapidly against the sudden darkness and let go of the curtain to rub her eyes. It fell with a heavy rustle and lay still, the silence after heavy and complete. She tried to hold her breath and listen for a sign of his location, some slither of that elegant coat, or a footstep, and heard nothing.
For what felt like hours she lay there, trying not to shake. Sleep wouldn't come. The idea of being helpless while that man was still out there-- she swallowed several times and managed to sit up and face the curtains. Bertha would be in at dawn, and she would be shocked, and maybe in danger if something wasn't done about this. So, hand trembling slightly, she grasped the curtain and yanked it open again. His shadow was gone.
She fumbled for a match and lit the candle, not quite trusting her eyes in the dark. Then she grabbed her robe from the bedpost and made sure she was wrapped up decently before she grabbed the light and searched every inch of her room. Even the closet, and under the bed. But, though she found no sign of her mysterious visitor, Raeger kept her bed curtains drawn and stayed huddled up against the headboard as long as she could remain awake.
She got no sleep that night. Dawn came welcome and reassuringly bright.
* * *
Right, I learned my lesson. I'll be posting this story in parts. No guarantees about how long you'll have to wait between installments. :P
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-25 03:43 am (UTC)*cackles* YOU DID IT. YOU ACTUALLY DID IT. :0 I'M LIKE, TOTALLY FLOORED.
Raeger and Judas AU!Fic is always such a pleasure to read (and write, but I haven't been doing too much of that lately. ;_;). XD This fic is so shiny and fiance!Lawfer is such an awfully hilarious (to me, at least) twist. Does Judas get to kill him here too? XD
Favorite lines:
Neither said anything about the wooden corsets, but she thought women in general probably harbored a deep-seated, unspoken horror of the things that any female within fifty paces would recognize and understand if the subject came up. Sarah said they used steel in Villnore, which made her cringe.
...
There were stories about this sort of thing. Dozens, in the books on her shelf right there on the opposite wall, about dark nighttime visitors and the curses of Hel, that she'd told to scare her friends.
...
That raised the question of just how long he'd been lurking, and she decided not to think about that.
...
"... I don't know who you are," she said slowly, voice sinking almost to a whisper. How long was he watching? "But ladies don't take offers from strange men, so I think you should leave."
An eyebrow arched. "I thought you said you weren't a lady."
"I said get out."
I'm assuming 'stores' is meant to be 'stories' (when he talks about 'the only fortune you would recognize')?
What I really like most about this is how it builds up the 'what-Raeger-might-have-been-like-as-a-lady' thing; even down to the letters she and her friends send each other and what kind of a relationship she has with them. I think it gives the story a pretty nice, personal feel, and helps establish Raeger's character a little more. A great problem I have with my writing is handling situations with more than a couple of characters at once, so my characters end up looking like loners because I FAIL AT SOCIAL SCENES. XD You're good at sketching out interpersonal relations, and I'm glad for it. <3
Also, yay! You nail Raeger's practicality in one: Bertha usually did it for her, but no point in calling her up for something silly like that. She's more of a sidekick than a main character-type, really, which must be why Judas is so amused at the lack of hysteria on her part. But she's still girlish, really, since she feels embarrassment at being caught in (well, what that time and place would have considered to be) so little. GHEEHEEHEE.
Just ugh, guh, LOVE. *incoherency*
To sum it up, I'm just pleased as punch that you're writing. XD AAAAH. You spoil me so much, but I'm so happy. <3 <3 <3 I'm looking forward to seeing more of this.
I forgot to reply, many apologies! =D
Date: 2006-02-27 01:12 am (UTC)I'm so lazy. I don't even bother to check the psheet anymore. :p
I"m glad you like it. Thank you. XD