Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

"My poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests..." - Pablo Neruda

[frozen-earth]

Perfect Fit || Clara & Victor

[seamstress-ofnore-blog]

The wedding cloak was coming along in splendid order.  The tall tapestry loom held the red and black fabric where she could easily twist and pull the bobbins, and she was able to sit on her little cushion at its base and watch her handiwork become a masterpiece.  It would look radiant on the groom’s shoulders as he walked about the city toward his bride, and prettier still when it caught the light as he swung it over his new wife’s shoulders.  And Clara would be there, to see her work be a part of a new family’s making.  She hardly knew a greater honour.

A fond smile was on her lips as she made her way downstairs, thinking of a simple meal she would try to cook for supper.  The new shop boasted a larger hearth, tall enough for her to walk into without stooping and with enough hooks that she could cook multiple things at a time.  There was even a little oven bricked into the side of it, though she had yet to try making leavened bread, just yet.  She was just pulling the crate of potatoes out from its shelf when the shop door opened.  Her cooking apron was tugged off in quick order, and she smoothed her skirt and righted her pretty cap as she walked to the front of the shop.

What she saw was the best surprise she’d had in months.  “Victor!”  She said, her voice all warmth and affection and wonder.  It was so odd to see him bow to her, and she raised a brow at that even as she smiled for him and set eyes on his companion.  She gave the stranger a polite curtsy.  “Sir.  Welcome.”  She went right back to drinking in the sight of her dear friend, her brother in all but blood.  “Ye are a splendid interruption.  I am at yer disposal, entirely.”  She said, cheerful and proud as she glanced around her new shop.

[frozen-earth]

Victor had very much wanted to visit Clara’s new shop. He’d wanted to sit before the hearth, he’d wanted to hear her talk about every little detail, he’d wanted to explore each floor and commend his dear friend on her fine work. But instead he was made to stand silent, trying desperately to shrink behind an aging man as his dear friend bounded towards him.

He forced a smile, though it made him queasy to do so, when he heard the warmth in her voice. Brinon was looking back at him, confusion clear upon his features. How did his whore end up on a first name basis with the Queen’s seamstress? Victor refrained from answering the unspoken question until it passed his patron’s lips.

“I had not known the two of you were acquainted,” Brinon said finally, a suspicious look being cast in Victor’s direction. “But I suppose that does make things a bit easier. I had wanted a new outfit for my dear boy, you see, and rumor has it that you are the lady to come to when one seeks the finest of clothes.”

A hand came back and grasped Victor’s, pulling him forward so that the hand could press against the small of his back. “I would have nothing less for my dear Victor, you see, though he is being quite shy today.”

[frozen-earth]

Frozen Earth || Victor & Gabriel

[gabrielxturner-deactivated20160]

The stone skipped across the water with that characteristic and somewhat indescribable sound. It was like a large bubble being popped, he decided, even if the pitch of the stone was still too deep for that. None the less, the performer inhaled deeply and smiled, leaning his shoulder against the nearest tree as the stone skipped then disappeared. This was going well, the emotionally intelligent part of himself decided. Third time was the charm, wasn’t it?

Gabriel’s eyes glanced upward as he reached for the memory of the performance. Had Sybil ever mentioned it? Had he even cared to ask, or had excitement barred him from learning perhaps one of the most basic details of the evening. That must have been it, and he offered an embarrassed grin, “I don’t think I even asked the name of the play. It was rather a dream come true, so to speak, and one forgets.”

His head dipped, and the more sensitive matter vexed him. Because, really, seeing the play had only cemented his view of himself when he’d reflected on it. There was no way a man with so little passion and only a mediocre skill would be able to join in the ensemble that had enchanted the stage.

“I don’t think it would be within my range, to join the troupe. My talent is hardly new, if one could call it talent at all. I may be content just to be able to watch the plays.” Which was neither entirely true or a complete lie. Suddenly, the air seemed colder, and whether it was due to nervousness alone or with the aid of magic, he feared that he would lose this steady peace with Victor for his words.

[frozen-earth]

Victor felt the chill in the air as it began to settle in, and he knew that his quiet provocation was its cause. Though he wished to encourage others to reach their full potential, he hated to upset them even more. So he let himself fall silent for a moment, absently wrapping an arm around his middle as he waited for the cold snap to pass. But it lingered, and Victor could not hide the frown that was starting to form. How could he have destroyed their comfortable atmosphere so simply? Eyes canting to the river, he wished greatly to take back all that he’d just said.

But Victor was not willing to wallow in his melancholy this day. Perhaps it was Alva’s presence that bolstered his mood, but after a few moments of quiet passed, he turned back to Gabriel with a smile. “I think going to see the plays every now and again could be just as enjoyable. Since I made your acquaintance, I do not think I have seen you as happy as when you spoke of the Gyld.”

He faltered for a moment, thinking his words too bold, but he pressed on. “But I think... I think what you are doing now requires confidence too, a lot more than you realize. I hope one day you realize that -- how strong and gifted you are.”

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Wreath of Pine || Victor & Xavier

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Dancing wasn’t something Xavier thought people did enough of, usually. He thought that if he was less afraid, he was dance all the time, even if for now reason. It was so joyful, so enviable. To be able to dance freely. He wanted to feel so light that his heart ached for it, like a caged bird longs for the sky, pining after something possible and just as unlikely.Yet there was a hand offered to him, and invitation to dance in which he would not lead and hopefully would not stumble.

Xavier took Victor’s hand, forever shocked at how warm others were, how unique that feeling was. Touching people wasn’t something Xavier did often, even if it was one of the few things he wasn’t that frightened of. After all, of the many things he’d endured, no one had ever laid a hand on him in ill will.

“I w-wouldn’t m-mind that… B-but, I may b-be the one, er, s-stepping on t-toes,” he did try and say it in good humor, but there was honesty behind those words; he was more than certain that he wouldn’t be any good at this, no matter how simple the steps they did. 

[frozen-earth]

Victor smiled at his dance partner gently as his hand slid into his own. The skin of his palm was soft and pliable, and he couldn’t help but to find the sensation welcoming. For once, Victor was hopeful. He could help this young man. He could ease the tension that clung to every inch of his tall form. They could dance together, even laugh perhaps, and forget all of their cares.

This was the life Victor longed for. He wondered if his new companion wished for the same?

“There is no worry if you do step on my toes,” he finally replied, leading them to a clearing just beside the mask maker’s shop. “Despite my looks, I am rather durable. It would take a great deal of stomping to truly injure me.”

Tightening his grip upon Xavier’s hand just the slightest bit, Victor raised their joined hands as he began to fall into step with the music. It seemed the bards had taken note of the new and rather awkward couple, kindly accommodating their songs to their slow movements.

Silently, Victor counted their steps, seeming to keep the pair of them in time for the most part. Once a rhythm had been found, Victor was able to relax a bit more, looking up to Xavier to see if he was enjoying himself.

[frozen-earth]

Damaged Property ||  Victor & Lotta

[lottaxthompson-deactivated20160]

Lost on who exactly Victor was talking about, Lotta simply nodded along, offering small but strong enough arms out to help the poor man up. She wanted to know who would be cross, she wanted to know who had beat her secret friend, and she wanted to do what she could to keep their abuses from a man who didn’t seem to be able to defend himself. Yet she feared she would be revealed and scorned for being kind to Victor.

She wondered what blackmail she might be able to think of. It was not an honorable thing to do, of course, and it would be told to no one but its victim… And it was not as though it would take much effort, either. A gossip herself, she had her way with words. Wasn’t it only right, that the future Queen of somewhere know how to help her people however possible, her friends especially?

“I shan’t think you’ll be seeing any more patrons at all today, Victor, we must have you fixed up first. I won’t have you going off to work when you cannot even stand on your own two feet.” She declared it strongly, with a voice that was halfway gentle and halfway uncompromising. If he said otherwise, it wasn’t as though he’d get very far, if this patron was far off, anyhow. Having grown up with such wealth and with no need to work for coin, health had always come just slightly before duty for her.

[frozen-earth]

He leaned upon her easily enough, though he worried how his weight might hinder her. And the blood... There was still blood dripping from his nose and mouth. He would hate to ruin her fine dress, and quickly he turned his face away in a vain attempt to protect the garment.

But his focus upon moving towards the Whore House faltered when she spoke. What did she mean he wouldn’t be seeing any patrons? Immediately he began shaking his head. “No, you do not understand,” Victor said hurriedly. “I must visit him. He will be cross if I do not attend to him promptly.”

Though Lotta’s words were true, Victor found his panic and fear overrode any logic. He could not upset Brinon, no matter what the cost to himself. The fact that he was incapable of walking on his own was only a minor detail in his mind.

“He will come here if I do not go,” he said, looking up at her once more. “And he will be angry. Please, Lady Thompson, you cannot keep me from him. I beg of you... J-just let me get to my things. I promise, I will be just fine. I swear to you by Alva’s very name.”

[frozen-earth]

Perfect Fit || Clara & Victor

Victor had not awaited this day with any measure of excitement. Instead, he had prayed it would never come, that the earth would open up beneath his feet and swallow him as it had his family so very long ago. But as each day passed, Victor realized the futility of his hopes. He was not ill. The gods would not hear his prayers. And he would be made to endure this embarrassment for as long as his patron saw fit.

Brinon had heard mention of the seamstress Clara Bridge from some friend or another. His companion happily showing off his wares, Brinon had sought out the young woman’s talented hands for his own attire. But Brinon grew disinterested in himself quickly, finding it much more agreeable to fret over his whore than himself.

For weeks Victor had listened to him prattle on; “How could you let your clothes become so worn?” “Do you think I can take you out looking like that?” “We will have to get you something else to wear soon. I cannot bare to be seen with you when you are dressed so shabbily.” The chastisements had become second nature to Victor, and he took them as readily as he did his next breath. But for as long as Brinon had gone on about correcting this issue, he’d never expected the man to make good on his word.

Yet there they stood, inside of his best friend’s shop, waiting for the seamstress to tend to them.

As they’d made there way, Victor had done his best to dissuade Brinon from his plan. There were other seamstresses in Nore, ones closer to the man’s home that would charge far less than what Clara asked. But Brinon would not be placated. “You will have clothes sewn by the Queen’s own clothier,” the man had replied. “You should be more grateful, Victor. Anyone else would be.”

He’d fallen into a bitter silence after that, his patron growing more and more frustrated with his behavior. It seemed though that his anger had reached its peak when Victor all but hid behind him. “What in Norlan’s name is wrong with you?” his patron scolded. “You are acting like a child, Victor. It is not as if I have never bought you clothes before.”

Victor started to respond, but his mouth grew dry as the seamstress herself came into his view. A horrendous blush darkened the pale skin of his cheeks, his eyes casting downward before he dropped into a bow. “Good day to you, Miss Bridge. My apologies if we interrupted your work...”

[mirrormasquerade]

The Reaper and the Flowers | Dante & Victor

[mirrormasquerade]

Dante couldn’t help but offer a pout of protest, knowing that the other man’s line of work did demand his time. Much as the mask maker had offered to “buy” him to free his evening, Victor had declined.

He was terribly modest and moreso concerned with Dante’s reputation than the mask maker themselves. Still, it was endearing and if Dante were a more humbled person they’d appreciate it more. Still, even if dinner was not to be shared today there was no doubt that Victor would be stolen away for a meal soon.

Having since left the willowy wonder upon the stool, they could be heard chattering with excitement and giggles, shuffling a few things about. Finally the sound of footfalls returned to the parlor room, Dante grasping happily at the bundle wrapped in their arms. “Keep your eyes closed a little longer~” The tone was sing song, light and abundant in its joy, the room stilling again as something soft and weighted came to rest in Victor’s hands.

“Open them now!”

[frozen-earth]

Victor’s eyes opened slowly, a shallow gasp passing his lips as he looked upon the gift Dante had bestowed him with. It was a beautiful thing, every inch hand-stitched with care. White as the newly fallen snow, Victor marveled at the ensemble that Dante had managed to craft. Truly, he and Clara would make an unstoppable pair, should her work ethic and Dante’s creativity ever meet.

“This is absolutely amazing,” Victor said breathlessly, rising to further unfurl the outfit which he now realized was sized just for him. “You made this for me?” he asked, uncertain. “I am not deserving of such a beautiful gift, I...” At a loss for words, he found silence was all he could offer. Looking more closely at every inch of the immaculate costume, he realized belatedly that within its folds hid an equally stunning mask.

Shaped much like the beak of a bird, Victor marveled at the many tiny details Dante had lovingly embroidered into it. He felt a flutter in his heart, wide eyes turning to the mask maker once more. “This is more than I could ever hope to repay... Sir... You have my eternal gratitude. I cannot even begin to thank you for your generosity.”

[frozen-earth]

Frozen Earth || Victor & Gabriel

[gabrielxturner-deactivated20160]

Had the memory not been so wonderfully fresh in his mind, Gabriel may have defaulted to his usual answer, to the firm ‘no’ that he’d been regrettably able to give. Yet, now, the question brought truth to his smile, a real and rare brightness to his eyes. Of all the great losses, all the fear and loneliness, he had at least that memory. He’d be forever grateful to Sybil for making it possible.

“I have, though I don’t remember seeing such an ability in the performance I saw,” Gabriel answered, “I suppose I might be able to do something like that, if ever I have the skill and opportunity to be in a play of theirs myself.” Which still seemed unlikely, for an aging and passionless man.

[frozen-earth]

Victor admired the way Gabriel’s face brightened at the mention of the theater. It was much improved from the usual dower expression that he wore, and Victor endeavored to keep it upon his face for as long as possible. “It has been a little while since I have been to the Gyld, so perhaps things have changed since my last visit. You seem as if you enjoyed your time there though, if it is not too bold to say. Which play was it that so excited you?”

Reaching out absent-mindedly with his magic, Victor once more attempted to skip a rock along the river’s surface. His gaze intent upon the little stone, he said with a smile, “Well I certainly think you have the skill. Your words were spoken very passionately when last I saw your performance.”

He paused for a brief moment, a flick of his hand sending the rock sailing and successfully skipping along the waves. He brightened, looking to Gabriel excitedly. “Did you see? I have been trying to do that for hours.”

The expression on his face was that of a child, and Victor was entirely aware of how immature he must seem in that moment. “But that serves as proof I think that things that seem impossible are not as hopeless as they seem. Perhaps if you make the proper acquaintances within the Gyld, you may have a shot at joining their acting troupe. And Mister Pendragon being such a passionate fellow, I am certain he could be easily swayed by new talent.”

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Wreath of Pine || Victor & Xavier

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

It was hard not to be overwhelmed as the shop came into view. Bright colors of fine masks leapt out the windows while a few dancers twirled around musicians. Perhaps there had been more earlier. He didn’t know. It didn’t make them any less daunting, being ridden with bad luck as he was.

Yet, he was afraid to disappoint Victor. Afraid that scampering back to his shop would bring ill will upon him, that it would be humiliating. Xavier had brought himself blindly into the open, and now he had no choice but to stay there. Maybe, if the Gods willed it, things would not go poorly. Maybe he’d even get a taste for that life he so secretly dreamed of. Or maybe this was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Attempting to both be near the one point of safety he hoped he had, Victor, and to stay out of the way all the while, he shuffled his feet, shoulders raising to his ears. “I d-don’t, um… I’ve n-not d-danced… N-not for a l-long t-t-time…”

[frozen-earth]

It was easy to recognize the uncertainty in Xavier’s lanky form. Practically shrinking into himself, it was obvious he was quite terrified by the idea of being on display. But Victor wasn’t sure if there was wanting in his hesitation, whether the young man truly desired to dance or if it was a hobby that held little interest for him. Looking round at the few Norns still milling about, Victor decided it was up to him to not only take the lead, but to also try and put the nervous man at ease.

Offering a smile to the baker, Victor carefully reached out to take his hand. “It has been a while for me as well. I used to quite like dancing at the New Moon Feasts with my friends, but after I injured my leg it has been difficult.”

In truth, the injury to his ankle had made a great many things more difficult, not just dancing. But for once, Victor didn’t allow himself to dwell on the misfortune that seemed so rampant in his life, instead choosing to let his impairment offer the other some comfort.

“You would be my first dance partner in some time. We would make quite a pair, the two of us. While I cannot promise not to step on your toes every now and again, I would be honored if you would like to join me for a song or two. So what say you? I can assure you, you will be no worse at dancing than myself.”

[frozen-earth]

There was something like longing or loneliness in the young lady’s words, and Victor felt a pang of sympathy. This woman was Solish through and through, her soul as bright as the summers she’d left behind. As she lingered in the snows, would she find Nore to her liking? Could she? Though it wasn’t any of his concern, he couldn’t help but to wonder. Most every Southerner that Victor came to know abhorred their eternal winter. He feared that, in time, Hermia might feel the same. And if she refused to part with her dear sister, he wondered how long the light of summer would shine within her.

“Yes, I suppose you are right,” he said, returning her sweet smile. “I am happy for you and your success. I hope that Norlan will continue to bless you and your business with a prosperous future, and that little Rose remains happy and safe.

“But I fear I have taken up too much of your time,” Victor said as a curious new patron came to the stand. “I shall take my leave, if you would not find it rude. Seems there are some actual paying customers who have need of you.”

[hermia-higgenbottom]

To answer his questions, she couldn’t. Hermia had visited snow before, north of the De Carta lands, and though it had its novelties, she had grown tired of it in weeks. Already, she despised the weather, but she wad not yet changed by it. Hermia was determined to make do, and she still had her diligence left.

“Aye, and eeself, friend,” she interrupted, but she didn’t stop him from finishing his sentence. It was terribly polite of him to excuse himself for someone else to have Hermia’s full attention. “Gods keep ee, man,” she said. “I welcome ee back whenever ee find eerself around me table.”

[frozen-earth]

Frozen Earth || Victor & Gabriel

[gabrielxturner-deactivated20160]

“One day, perhaps. If summer returns, I can see it having more than aplenty uses. Though, as I may have mentioned, ice is in no short supply at the moment,” Gabriel replied with a smile to match the lightness of his voice. He buried within him the guilt and embarrassment the other man’s words had unintentionally brought him; Gabriel’s mistakes were his own, he wouldn’t have any ill emotions that resulted advertised openly.

He lowered his hands, then, letting his fingers curl up and his thumbs cover them, rubbing over his knuckles for warmth. Having perpetually cold hands was certainly no gift from the Gods; all he could do was try and see an invisible and impossible reason for his magic. Instead of thinking too deeply on it, he found a convenient bright side, “Perhaps I can add it into my work at some point. It may be an asset to a tale or two, I should think?”

[frozen-earth]

It seemed Victor had failed at providing the comfort he so desperately wished to offer the man. He could see the falseness in Gabriel’s smile, a falseness he’d become far too accustomed to in his life. But he chose not to make comment on it, too focused on keeping the mood light to press any further. At the suggestion that perhaps his magic could be used for story-telling, he smiled and nodded. “Yes, that would be quite splendid, I think. You could add fine detail to your tales if you used your magic at just the right moment.”

Already Victor could imagine how he could use his gifts. Though it was true there was ice abundant, there were certain to be viewers of his play that would find the little trick exciting.

“Ah, have you ever been to a play at the Gyld Theater?” Victor asked suddenly. “They have an actress there who will sometimes use her light magic to enhance the plays. I can easily imagine you doing something similar with your own talents.”

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Wreath of Pine || Victor & Xavier

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Walking somewhat beside and somewhat behind Victor forced Xavier to slow his steps. Where normally he would walk quickly as he long legs would carry him, he had to now keep pace with the slightly shorter man. And where once he needed to constantly keep his eyes on the ground, he could now look around just a little more. The festivities were almost finished, it was true. But there was still life buzzing in the Market Square. Xavier had forgotten how beautiful that was, to see such liveliness.

As they walked, he listened as well, something like brightness lit behind scared eyes. No, he’d never seen the masks, or rather, never paid attention. He’d never really seen anything like that, not since he was a child. Honestly, such delicacy frightened him. Xavier had learned better than to trust his constantly moving, forever shaky hands. Even now in fact, covered by his cloak, he pressed his knuckles into the heel of his hand, nervously allowing them to slip apart before quickly but softly joining, over and over.

“F-from afar, er… Th-that m-might be b-b-better,” Xavier told his companion for the evening, “I w-wouldn’t want t-to, um, to b-break something…”

[frozen-earth]

Victor nodded at the other man’s response. He’d expected that Xavier would be hesitant to get close. It was easy to imagine that Dante’s exuberant personality might overwhelm the young baker, and so he knew it was best not to force things.

He let silence fall between them then, giving Xavier ample time to admire the costumed passersby and the lingering scents that wafted in the air. It was a very pleasant atmosphere, one that Victor might have liked to wrap himself in for some time. But soon their very small journey was over, the mask maker’s shop just within view.

“Ah, there it is,” Victor said with a smile. “It sounds as if the musicians are still going. Would you fancy a dance, perhaps? I am not as fast on feet as I once was, but maybe that is better in this instance.”

[frozen-earth]

Damaged Property ||  Victor & Lotta

[lottaxthompson-deactivated20160]

Lotta Thompson’s route often did cross before the Whorehouse, though often she kept clear of the establishment. She would walk on the other side of the road, she would refuse to look at it, rather raise her chin with dignity and pass, the picture of a lady. After all, it was not as though she had any reason to go there, not while she saved herself for her marriage bed, when he currently imaginary prince came and whisked her away.

This day was no different. She approached, turned her head up to avoid the sight of the place… Only to turn it right back upon seeing movement in the alleyway beside it. Though pride kept her from approaching, the noblewoman stopped in her tracks, eye narrowed to make out the crumpled form of a man. Was he… He was bloodied, by the look of it. She may not have been a particularly giving woman, but she was a kind one at the very least, and the sight of him made her heart sink.

With careful steps through trodden-down slush, Lotta neared, and soon recognized that bloody face: though when last she’d seen it, it had been considerably more happy-looking. A silent gasp caught in her throat. The poor man! Hands pressed nervously over her front, and she glanced both ways before crossing the thankfully not-too crowded pass.

“Victor!” Her voice was devoid of its regular cheer, filled instead with sympathy; even she had the capacity to feel sorry for someone who look so badly bruised and beaten. And he was her friend, even if in secret, was he not? The sight of him up close made her outwardly cringe, and carefully she dropped to her knees to be level with him, unsure of what to do, as a matter of fact. Blood did not scare her, it never had, but this was hideous. Who had done such a thing?

“Victor,” Lotta repeated, searching for a pristine white kerchief she kept, an easily replaceable gift from one of her father’s business partners, to be sure, and offering it out to him. Last time they’d met, he’d been bloodied as well (though not nearly as badly, it had been his hand, if she remembered correctly). It was not a habit she wanted the two of them to get into.

“What happened to you?”

[frozen-earth]

He didn’t hear the voice that called out to him at first. So focused was he on ambling back to his shared room and his work that his surroundings had faded into the background. But the one who drew near, he struggled to remember her name. Nobility to be sure, and certainly not the sort who frequented the Whore House, her identity was recalled only when he devoted sole focus to her somber face. “Lady Thompson...” he croaked out, frowning deeply at the scratchiness of his own voice. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Brinon would hate how weak and sickly he sounded.

Her question had already become secondary, his mind racing to now repair the state of his voice. Some tea might help to soothe him, but he hadn’t the time for that. Perhaps if he smiled enough and clung to the man more than usual he wouldn’t notice the fault in his voice.

Victor shook his head then, brows furrowing in frustration. Of course he would notice. Brinon was all too keen when it came to Victor. Immediately he would notice something amiss, and there was no telling what repercussions would arise from taking such poor care of himself.

“He is going to be so cross...” he murmured again, once more attempting to rise to his full height and failing yet again. “I could not stop him... I told him that I had not the time, that I had another patron that I had to visit...” He looked to Lotta finally, as if he’d just remembered her presence. “I have salves and bandages inside. I need them. Would you help me? I... It appears I am not able to walk on my own.”

[frozen-earth]

Damaged Property ||  Victor & Lotta

He rose onto shaky feet, his thin frame quaking with a violence it should not know. He felt terror, real and true, as he leaned his weight against the wooden structure beside him, the shallow huffs of his breath the only sound he knew. It took him a moment to remember his surroundings, to recall the events which had led him to this particular alleyway. A determined customer, one who cared little for the schedule Victor was meant to keep, had not been well pleased to be denied by a whore. He’d paid no heed to the crowd around them when he lifted his fist. and from there... From there Victor could remember precious little.

He could feel his eye swelling up, could see the blood upon his fingertips, but it was not the pain or that man which had Victor’s heart thudding so furiously. It was Brinon, the man who he may soon belong to, that made his breath quicken then. What would he do when he saw his injuries? Would he be cross with Victor? Would he send him away?

His fingers traced the bridge of his nose, blessedly finding no pain or irregularities in the bone beneath. But there was blood, red and bright, and his face would swell from the strength of that man’s blow. He would be ugly, uglier if that was possible. Brinon would hate that. Brinon would blame him for injuries which now marred the body he spent such coin on.

“He will be so cross...” he whispered to himself, forcing himself to the mouth of the alley and back towards the Whore House. “What should I do?” he asked quietly, tears welling in his eyes as panic began to take hold. If he went to him like this, surely he would be upset with him. But if he didn’t go at all, it would be even worse. He hadn’t meant to damage Brinon’s property, but that hardly mattered now.

He needed to fix it. He needed the salves and ointments he kept stored beneath his bed. He moved forward with more determination, hoping that if he moved quickly he could still attend to Brinon in a timely manner. But a fresh burst of pain struck him, Victor crumpling to his knees as the stabbing sensation blossomed from his side. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to go, needed to repair the damage that had been done to Brinon’s property as soon as he could. But the pain was too great, every movement crippling him.

And so he sat, willing away tears of frustration of pain and fear, as life carried on around him. Or so he thought.

[hermia-higgenbottom]

Hermia furrowed her brow at the change in the man’s demeanor. Right – he had no family name. Likely, she figured, that meant he didn’t have a family either. She had no want to be unhappy right now, as a sour businesswoman captured few customers, to be sure.

And the mention of going south only served to worsen things. Hermia shook her head, pursing her lips in consideration. “Nae, I dinna think I’ll be goin’ nowhere ‘till she’s full grown. Art needs me ‘ere too much, an’ she’s not one fer travel.” A shrug, and Hermia brought her grin back up. “But no matter, hey? I’m me own woman now, an’ I got me own business wi’ nice people t’ meet like ee.”

[frozen-earth]

There was something like longing or loneliness in the young lady’s words, and Victor felt a pang of sympathy. This woman was Solish through and through, her soul as bright as the summers she’d left behind. As she lingered in the snows, would she find Nore to her liking? Could she? Though it wasn’t any of his concern, he couldn’t help but to wonder. Most every Southerner that Victor came to know abhorred their eternal winter. He feared that, in time, Hermia might feel the same. And if she refused to part with her dear sister, he wondered how long the light of summer would shine within her.

“Yes, I suppose you are right,” he said, returning her sweet smile. “I am happy for you and your success. I hope that Norlan will continue to bless you and your business with a prosperous future, and that little Rose remains happy and safe.

“But I fear I have taken up too much of your time,” Victor said as a curious new patron came to the stand. “I shall take my leave, if you would not find it rude. Seems there are some actual paying customers who have need of you.”

[mirrormasquerade]

The Reaper and the Flowers | Dante & Victor

[mirrormasquerade]

The smile that crept across Dante’s features was that of a cat in the cream, decidedly evil and unapologetic. Squeezing his arm a bit tighter as they single handedly turned the key and drug the other man indoors.

The shop was warm, the hearth having been let to keep the dimmed room comfortable while the mask maker went to fetch Victor. Dante was giggling, chirping like a song bird with the unbridled joy - this surprise was going to floor him. They’d released the poor dear once past the threshold, finally answering, “No choice at all~! Honestly, it would be lovely if you ate with us more often. All the salacious gossip and rumors of the day over bread and wine, how could you deny such fun?”

Of course it was meant jokingly, flitting across the room to gather up a small stool for the taller to sit upon. “Now now, we’ll have plenty of time to work darling. First, I’ve something to show you!”

Grabbing Victor’s hands, they vibrated in anticipation, bringing him to sit upon the worn wood of the stool. Once they’d rather demand pushed his shoulders down to sit, Dante smile grew a mile wide, “Close your eyes, and absolutely no peeking! I want to see you be really taken by the majesty.” Oh they were one for words, especially in the variety of self praise, though with skills so unrivaled, who wouldn’t?

Floor boards groaned, the hissing crackle of tinder, and the delighted footfalls of the mask maker’s retreating were all that remained.

[frozen-earth]

“You must know by now I am not one for rumors,” Victor said with an embarrassed smile. More than a few rumors had been spread about him over the years, and he felt it best to keep himself far removed from such business as possible. Though, it was harder for him to decline the mask maker’s request for a shared dinner. It did sound like great fun, but Victor worried that the tension between himself and Dorian would come to the surface. That would be decidedly less fun than Dante was hoping for. “Perhaps if work permits, I shall be able to join you for a meal one day. But you know my schedule tends to be quite hectic.”

Satisfied that he’d not gotten the mask maker’s hopes up, Victor focused properly on the next words that left Dante’s lips. Forced to sit upon a wooden stool, Victor waited patiently for Dante’s hands to leave his eyes. But still he was made to wait, his delicate lashes fluttering against his pale skin. Whatever could this surprise be? A mask? Or some other sort of gift? Victor certainly hoped the man hadn’t gone to too much trouble.

Left to ponder these possibilities in silence, Victor couldn’t help but to feel even more anxious...and excited.

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Wreath of Pine || Victor & Xavier

[xavierxpiest-deactivated2016071]

Xavier had almost forgotten, admittedly, that the bakery was not officially closed and that, while he was still dressed warmly as per usual, it certainly wouldn’t be enough to venture out. His thoughts had crowded those simple things right out of his head, and he found his cheeks flooding with pink embarrassment. “Of c-course.” He nodded, shuffling awkwardly in place to turn, and hurrying back inside.

A few moments and a good deal of worry later, he returned, cloak meticulously straightened over his shoulders, rusting key in hand. Xavier stepped back into the snow, turning to lock the bakery’s front entrance. The bolt clicked, and for a moment, he paused, hand on the key. No matter how excited he told himself that he was, there was still a tug in his stomach, beckoning that he go back inside and forget about this. But the door was already locked.

The young baker pocketed his key and turned to join Victor again, pulling his hood over his head as he did. “Um… L-lead the w-way…” He murmured, the end of the sentence brought up as though it were a question, not a statement.

[frozen-earth]

Victor waited patiently, listening to the sounds of hushed celebration. It had been a good holiday, one that Victor could look upon with fond memories. And as the sun began to set, he hoped his good fortune would continue -- and perhaps spread to the young man who now stood before him.

With a brief nod, Victor led the way towards Mister Brun’s shop. It wasn’t often that he saw Xavier traveling about, their brief meeting aside, so he wondered if he’d ever come across the mask maker’s fine creations.

“Have you ever seen one of Mister Brun’s masks?” he queried. “They are such beautiful and well-crafted things. Some are so delicate they appear as if they could not have been made by human hands. I am sure Mister Brun would delight in showing them to you, if you wish. But they are just as pleasant to admire from afar.” 

[altairmaon-deactivated20160508]

The idea of being stuck in one place for so long that the outside seems unfamiliar frightened Altair. Perhaps it was because deep down he knew that Sol had stopped being his home awhile ago and he had become far more familiar with Nore than he ever was with Sol. “I can only hope relearning will be exciting rather than frightening.” He tried to find the positive in the situation.

It always warmed Altair’s heart when Victor showed his selfless side. He truly was such a lovely man. Despite the bad times that seemed right in front of Victor, he still managed to find good in Altair’s situation. “You’re always so positive around me,” he said, unable to stop himself from smiling.

The thought of freedom excited him, but he knew better than to let that illusion get the best of him. For years he hoped for freedom but only dished lashings and little pay. Sol might house his family, but it would also house his new master. Stradden wasn’t a nice man, but he wasn’t terrible to Altair. Who knew what this new master would be like?

“I’m not a fan of the unknown.”

[frozen-earth]

Victor hadn’t thought himself any more positive or uplifting than anyone else. “Am I?” he queried after a drink from his mug. “I had not noticed any difference in my demeanor...” But perhaps it was simply habit. Victor’s job was to please others, to make them forget the troubles that burdened them. It was easy to forget himself, even when he was not required to.

“I can understand your concerns,” Victor said with a nod. “Too often the future is such a frightening thing. But I think...the future is what you make of it. And you are a strong man, not afraid to take charge when it is necessary. Even if your new situation is not ideal, I think you will find a way to make it suit you. That is just your way.”