i'm here to remind you; @lydiatremaine - Tumblr Blog

meet lydia !!

ANASTASIA TREMAINE IS PROUD TO SEND THEIR CHILD, LYDIA TREMAINE, TO THE LAND OF AURADON FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE AMBITIOUS AND PASSIONATE, BUT CAN ALSO BE BLUNT AND VINDICTIVE.

#*#disenchantedintro

talesnbone:

when: may 26, first day of coronan lantern festival who: andres hook and lydia tremaine @lydiatremaine

the days had seemed like a bit of a whirlwind. shadowborns being expected in one place or another. the only thought that had kept Andres relatively well behaved was the idea that there would be a festival in honor of Rapunzel, or something of that nature. he didn’t give a shite about the women or her kingdom. what mattered to him was that it was another opportunity to have a good piss up. something he certainly craved, almost more than sex at that point. the entire time, he had been on somewhat, good behavior. trying not to call too much attention to himself. to be a good little lap dog for Nikolai as he did errands but he was wearing thin. he was bored. he was not entertained. nor was he very good at being idle.

he could thank the docks and those that seemed to lurk around even during the daytime for the rum he had gotten. his tongue finally wet in a way that seemed to be more satisfying than so many other things as of late. the flavor something akin to a burning caramel on his tongue and down his throat. heaven of course. with drink in hand, he figured he could make his way back to the square where there were still revelers looking at various little shops. his auradon approved clothing was haphazardly placed on his body. as he absolutely refused to allow his cock to suffocate in the tightness that was the pants he was expected to wear.

sure, they were most often of a linen or perhaps cotton but there was something about how they were cut that hung in all of the wrong places to him. wearing the pants that he had come with was more comfortable. maybe one would argue the pants of a pirate were more uncomfortable. to that, Andres would tell them to fuck off and be on his way. he wore no ascot and his collar was practically none existent. comfort on the front of his mind.

Andres made his way through the crowd, caring little for any looks he received, knowing full well he looked that part of a scoundrel. the small pleasures in life were really what mattered. a good drink on his tongue. not a care in the world. it was the sort of life he enjoyed the most. in truth, he liked to be up to no good when i had the urge to be. which more often than not, was all of the time. but he liked the fire. blood on his hands. dirt under his nails. the psychological shite was so damn tiring. sun shimmered on his skin as he eyed the people around. bloody well greatness.

the only thing that could have made it better, was good company. then, as if the world was answering his prayers, he caught sight of the special kind of red he was familiar with as it shimmered on the horizon in front of him. the tall tale sign of a certain woman he could admit, he would get on his knees for. in any way she wished. a smirk twisted the corners of his lips as he made his way to her. having no idea what sort of mood she was in, well, that was part of the fun. “oh, my dear sweet Miss Tremaine. how you are a sight for sore eyes.”

she really was. her skin like cream in the sunlight light. beautiful. “you’re a bloody gift from the gods.” he added with a bit of whisper, so she could hear him and even if others did, it would be scandalous. “tell me you are in the mood to have me entertain you.”

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Lydia had spent the whole day popping into various shops in Corona, pretending to care about the random families hawking their wares as she avoided the unnecessary parade and chalk drawing celebration. A child, seemingly taken by her red ensemble (why was everything there pink and purple??), had grabbed her by the hand mid-day and tried to drag her to a hair braiding station. She’d shaken her off, barely able to hide her disgust.

The whole day was a farce, exhausting and idiotic. What was the point in being nice to people if they ended up being useless? And was there really a need for such a celebration? Royals had birthdays all the time. That didn’t mean that the entire kingdom needed to celebrate. And if it was simply a holdover from when they’d released those sad lanterns decades ago (Lydia had heard the tale), it wasn’t a unique story.

You know who else had been ripped apart from a family member? Anyone from the Shadow Realm with a parent on the other side.

In truth, that was Lydia’s sole purpose in attending the festival. Her flipping through her mother’s journal had lead her to one conclusion - her father was likely still a baker somewhere in Auradon. She’d already failed to track him down in Auradon City, but was refusing to give up until she’d shared her thoughts on his abandonment with him properly. Face to face, so that he could feel every bit of her disgust.

She had just ducked out of the last bakery on her list, making an excuse about being late to meet someone so she wouldn’t be invited to dinner, when she caught sight of just the man she wanted to see on the street.

Not her father.

No, she’d realized hours prior that anyone she was related to would be disgusted by the Kingdom of Corona and all its false cheer. She had just been too stubborn with her need to see things through to the very end. Even though she was still mildly disappointed as the door to the shop shut behind her.

But there was Andres Hook, in the flesh, an absolutely delightful distraction from her troubles just begging to be acknowledged.

“Mr. Hook,” she smiled. And she kept on walking, no doubt in her mind that he would follow.

“I’m assuming your eyes are very sore indeed, since I cannot recall the last time we spoke.” She could, actually. She had been threatening him with arrows. It had been a delightful conversation.

“I think my answer to your question would depend on the type of entertainment you are wanting to provide. As I’m sure you are aware, given my godliness, I have many options these days.”

» » ─────────────── ▶

#* andres #* event: lantern festival

riverdaleladiesdaily

CHERYL BLOSSOM Chapter Ninety-Three: Dance of Death

#*

gownegirl

THE O.C. REWATCH → 1x07 The Escape

#*

discnchant:

His office was a rather sacred place for Henry. To the point he had kept it in a completely separate townhouse in the Garden District, one his parents bought him when he’d come of age and been named Second Earl of Citrouille in hopes he would so soon after share it with a wife. That did not happen. Instead he kept it more as a secondary home for more illicit visitations and to escape to when he was tired of being surrounded by his family in their powder blue home only a block away. It was here he could be alone with his thoughts or whichever lover he fancied as of late, and could focus on his own affairs of business and flesh.

Today was one of those days, choosing to be there in his office tending to business rather than entertaining ladies or the rare experimental gentleman. Henry amassed wealth in investments and selling profitable acquisitions on top of his inheritance, a steady influx of income to nurture his growing gambling problem. He wanted to go waste away at the underground casinos in Low Town after such a miraculously terrible May Day, do something otherwise thrilling to take his mind off that imbecile Hook and the mortification he put him through. So he was looking over accounts, looking at his acquisitions and seeing just what his finances looked like as of lately. Balancing the books was, after all, the best way to avoid untimely visits or interruptions from staff.

He thought so anyway.

Of course he was taken back by the aggressive intrusion, though he attempted to not show as much. Luckily he was hidden well behind piles of books and paperwork, and was able to recover before she could take notice of his shock. Even as she spoke, he stared past her at the door she so unceremoniously opened with her foot, sighing as he pulled off his reading spectacles to point them rather sternly at the redhead.

“You better hope there is no damage to that door,” he said sharply. “I sincerely doubt you have the funds to finance the repair.“

Leaning back into the wingback leather chair he occupied, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked at her with a single raised brow. It was clear to him who this aggressive intruder was, he had known from when she first arrived, but he did not enjoy the way she chose to address him. Insolent brats the Tremaines were. First that dull Mr. Tremaine and now this disrespectful girl Tremaine. He had already had enough of them and would not give the satisfaction of recollection, nor the respect she clearly was attempting to demand from him.

So instead, he cocked his head to the side with a furrow brow and said, “I’m sorry, but…. Who are you? I don’t have the faintest clue.”

» » ─────────────── ▶

Lydia did not let herself get distracted by the sheer amount of frivolous material objects in the room, their mere existence a symbol of the wealth and power that only some were born into. Henry Charming had money, that was clear (enough to warrant having an office), but it meant nothing to the girl. He was not better than her simply because of the fortunate situation of his family at his birth, or his formal education, or his haughty attitude. He was no better than her at all.

And it was frustrating, to say the least, to be talked down to as though she was nothing.

“Mmm, and how would you know that I do or do not have those funds unless you are aware of who I am? Or you’re judgmental. Neither of which is particularly appealing in a gentleman, but both clearly societally acceptable here in bright, beautiful Auradon.”

They had traded not fifty words and yet Lydia’s mind was already made up about Henry. What a sad, sad excuse of a man.

“In case you’re merely judgmental and lacking in the ability to pull together context clues, I am Miss Lydia Tremaine. I’m sure you’ve heard of my mother, Anastasia. You see, I had been politely waiting for a formal introduction to be made between the two of us in a more neutral setting, or even perhaps by way of an invitation, as many of my peers having had the children of their parents’ sworn enemies actually seek them out. When no such invitation came and the days stretched into weeks which stretched into... well, the present, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I believe we are overdue for a conversation. And after you and I are done, I will be seeking out an audience with your mother.”

#* henry

riverdaleladiesdaily

#a whole mood

#*

talesnbone:

he had done what had seemed to be the impossible. specifically, since transitioning onto the other side of the looking glass. Andres had somehow pleased Nikolai. now, not sexually. that was almost too easy. the other shadow born was so wound up sometimes that he barely got to enjoy himself before it was all over. what could he say? he liked things in his mouth.

still, that wasn’t how he was rewarded with a job well done. not from providing the dust or any of the details he had found. nor for pushing people over various edges. he got a pat on the shoulder. like a pat on the head. some good dog that had done well enough to earn a nod of the head before moving on. it was nearly dissatisfying. but then Andres remembered how displeased the other had been lately and it was truly a gift. even the last time he had gotten on his knees for the man didn’t seem to take away the tension in his shoulders. shame.

but he had done well enough and figured he could treat himself. the sort of delectable treat he was looking for came in the form of one of his favorite people. beautiful long red hair. in the right light it looked bloody. a viper sharp tongue he would never get to do anything fun with but was happy to hear wash over his ears. after all, that was fun enough. that need had him searching for Lydia. it seemed as if it had been weeks since they had last seen each other. he had a hunger.

finding her on the archery pitch wasn’t surprising. that vicious streak of her’s was something beautiful to be seen. a mischievous thought filled him as he crept up behind her. knowing full well that it was dangerous, but he liked to live deliciously. “my dearest, please tell me that arrow is meant for me,” he whispered close to her, allowing his breath to touch her hair but keeping his body just enough away. @lydiatremaine

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

When Lydia crept onto the archery pitch, it was because she wanted to be alone.

There was just... something about flinging arrows at a target that soothed her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was fully in control of a dangerous, deadly weapon, or perhaps it was just the fact that the act of shooting required her to focus. Either way, she could use the release that afternoon.

She had been re-reading her mother’s old journal from before the world had split, when she had been almost an entirely different person. There was a lightness to the words, an optimism... and love. Her mother had undoubtedly been in love with the man that she wrote of, the blonde baker with a kind face. It was an affection that Lydia was positive her mother had never shown her.

It had taken so few passages to upset her, and even fewer to remind her of her partial mission now that she was in Auradon (aside from causing chaos in secret, of course) - reminding the people who had split the realms apart that they were no better than the so-called “villains” they had shunned.

Good people did not tear apart families. Good people did not punish generations that did nothing wrong simply because of their parentage. It did not matter to Lydia that there was an attempt to rectify some portion of things after the fact (and a half-assed one at best, truthfully). The damage had already been done. You cannot un-shatter fragile things.

Eyes narrowed as she steadied her breathing, Lydia’s arrows hit their targets each time she released them all times but one. Andres’ sudden appearance had broken her steady concentration, and though a momentary thrill went through her at the reminder that there was someone she could be absolutely horrible to who loved every minute of it... she was also upset that her perfect record had been ruined.

“With your disappearing off of the face of the Earth since our little tête-à-tête at the Welcome Ball, I thought you had died,” she murmured, stringing up another arrow to let fly in front of her. “Pity. I might have said something nice.”

Another arrow strung, another target hit. A brief smirk appearing on the girl’s face, she allowed herself to turn only enough for Andres to know she’d quirked a single eyebrow at his suggestion.

“You do know that archery is more impactful from a distance, yes? Anything so close would simply be a warning jab.”

» » ─────────────── ▶

#* andres

Lydia had given it some time, but patience had never been her strongest suit. She had waited, questioning if she would be sought out or if fate would toss them together, but neither had happened. It had been several weeks and still no interaction with the eldest Charming.

Unacceptable.

Perhaps her current actions were being spurred by the fact that she had discovered a journal in her things after returning home from the bacchanal, one that she had packed long ago as a means to keep the fire of range burning deep within her. Perhaps she was simply tired of avoiding the portrait-perfect blonde Earl as a means of not rocking the boat. Either way, with her tendency towards the dramatic, she’d known as she stomped over to where she knew Henry Charming to be spending the afternoon that she would be engaging him in a conversation whether he liked it or not.

From her very entrance into the room, opening the door with her heel instead of having it opened for her by a nosy servant, he needed to know that she was not there for pleasantries or to connect as (not blood related) family. She demanded respect and to be taken seriously. It was what she was owed.

“Lord Citrouille,” she greeted, chipper yet brash. “I’m certain you knew it was only a matter of time until we spoke.”

@discnchant

#* henry

Lydia had no opinion of the night thus far, a rare but not unheard of thing for her.

She’d lost track of Darien long ago, and had been made to wander the bacchanal alone, aimlessly maneuvering around group after group of partygoers that were a little too something-or-other (flirty, excitable, chatty, etc) until she’d ended up by the food and drink.

She hadn’t stayed planted there for long, having grabbed an odd fruit or two and a glass of what she assumed was something stronger than wine before she’d continued to mingle. But it was halfway through eavesdropping on conversations and being pulled into one or two on her own unexpectedly that the first hint that all was not as it seemed came to her.

A gentleman asked her if she could get him another glass of wine. And she had done it. With no questions asked, no biting retort. It was disturbing. It didn’t even take a second request for her to realize that something was very much amiss with her, and she developed an overwhelming desire to surround herself only with people she trusted. Which meant... one of two people.

Lydia Tremaine was no one’s servant. And luckily she knew just the redhead who could keep her from turning into one.

“My dear Cosette!” she called out as soon as the girl was close enough, her voice loud enough to stop anyone who knew a thing or two about polite society in their tracks. She certainly didn’t want to trap her chosen sister into a conversation, but time was of the essence.

“I fear I’ve been remiss in checking in since our arrival in Auradon. Tell me, my sweet, how have you been?”

@cosette-gothel

#* cosette

blopaz

#cheryl blossom is a bookworm and you should say it

#*

discnchant:

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A fear crept up Darien’s spine as they glided by the dance floor. He watched with wide blue eyes as the dancers twirled and hopped to some unknown rhythm. He was utterly clumsy, barely able to stand upright half the time, and the idea of joining in on these complicated line dances gave him the biggest fright of his life. There was a deep sigh of relief that left him, then, when Lydia had steered him away from the dance floor and towards a table of refreshments. Now this he could handle. “Oh, lemon bars,” he let out in an excited little breath, a hand darting instantly towards the powder covered lemon confection. Neither manners nor decorum ran through his head as he popped a square into his mouth, practically inhaling it. They didn’t have these kinds of delicacies back home, and he’d quickly grown an appetite for the foods of Auradon since their arrival. Even the boarding house served broths and stews that were more delectable than anything he’d had in all his years.

He had been contentedly chewing on another lemon bar when Lydia answered his question about making friends. Swallowing, he frowned and shook his head in the negative at his cousin. “I think I scare off most people with my rambling, but you know how I get when I’m nervous. My tongue becomes so loose. It’s embarrassing,” he sighed. He was perhaps most articulate with Lydia, but that could have been simply because he was most comfortable in her presence. Even now, he was less hurried and anxious, now more calm and soft spoken.

He let his eyes roam the room a moment, taking in all the unfamiliar faces roaming about. Their beauty and splendor caused his heart to skip beats. He couldn’t fathom why he was being brought here to socialize with the likes of princesses and dukes and lords. Darien never quite fit in at home, but he felt even more out of place here. “I suppose it’s still early in our time here…. Plenty of time to make new acquaintances still left.” He tried to be positive, though in truth he wasn’t sure he couldn’t be since there was no idea as far as how long they were permitted to live there in the sun and majesty of Auradon.

He frowned at her words. She had been right in a way – there was something funny to be said about one of their cousins being seated between them, but in truth Darien hadn’t found it funny at all. He was intimidated by Lady Charlotte. He’d heard that Cinderella’s demeanor had been soft (at least soft enough for his family to take advantage of her) and that she was kind (though his grandmother sneered at that fact). He had assumed the same of his cousins, but his experiences thus far had been different. They were scary. Especially the elder two. And Lady Charlotte only proved to make him uncomfortable, so he hadn’t gained the courage to even speak up to her. To make matters worse, he was also seated next to the “diamond of the season”. So he’d spent pretty much the entire meal just staring at his plate, thus wasting the whole experience.

“I think,” he started but paused, “I think they were just trying to make it more comfortable to integrate us. At least, that’s how I took it. Seating us near each other but also with a relation… Maybe they thought it would be the best way to be welcomed into Auradon.” His voice betrayed his sad disappointment at not having the courage to speak with his cousin. He lifted his chin after a moment, a beaming grin on his face. “Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to make their acquaintances. I wish to be close to them, as you are to me. Perhaps they can help establish us here, so we don’t have to go back.” It was a question on most of the Shadowborn’s minds he figured, whether or not they wanted to stay. Fish out of water he is, Darien liked things about Auradon too much to say goodbye to it anytime soon. Maybe the Charmings would be his key to sticking around.

✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂✂

Where Lydia had been able to restrain herself and only consume one strawberry delicacy, she had noticed that Darien had no such concerns. One lemon bar, two... she wasn’t sure how many he’d have consumed by the end of the evening, but his affable bearing allowed such a faux pas to roll off of him. In the end it was simply adorable, his innocence and kind nature truly his biggest asset in a crowd of uptight strangers.

“No, Darien,” she insisted before he could get too far into self-pitying, her need to shut down his self-doubt coming fast and furious. “I am positive that you have scared no one off. Rambling on many may be annoying, but on you it is simply endearing. I have seen several pairs of eyes trail towards you this evening. Simply offer a compliment somewhere in the middle and you will have no problem ingratiating yourself.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Darien to do the one thing that Lydia detested most - giving people who had not earned it the benefit of the doubt. That, too, she was quick to interject her thoughts into, hand dropping from where it had obscured her mouth to clasp her other, the picture of propriety as she spoke so that no one nearby could overhear.

“My dear cousin, I do love you, but I fear you may honor the Charming family with more compassion than they are deserving of. We were seated on either side of one tonight and yet we are no closer to mending that fragile familial relationship than we were when we arrived. Neither of the other two have bothered to speak with us and I am of the belief that they simply have no interest in doing so. Worse, they may be actively avoiding us.”

It didn’t matter to her, considering how she was ready to toss the whole lot out, but she knew that things tended to matter more to Darien. She was quick to vengeance, and in the back of her mind had been hatching a plan that would ruin the Charmings as they had, in their own way, ruined her. But such a thing she knew she had to keep from the most important person in her life. He seemed to value their full, extended family relationships. She just valued him.

“No, I believe that we’ll have to establish ourselves on our own. But have no fear, I’m certain that we will. We will not go back to the Shadow Realm unless it is our decision to do so. And you know me. I am determined enough to ensure it for the both of us.”

» » ─────────────── ▶

#* darien

TREMAINE FAMILY AESTHETICS #1/-

“Lydia wasn’t really raised by her mother. Instead she was tolerated.”

#*#my computer saved this in hq and tumblr said absolutely not #disenchantedtask

talesnbone:

if there was one thing Andres’ was certain of, it was that his prick was suffocating. clearly, dying within the pants he was forced to wear. the collar of the shirt cutting upwards in the shape of cliffs he had the sudden urge to throw himself off of. of only one was closer. honestly, he would kill a man for a good jug of rum. or even better, his normal clothing. yes, he knew he looked like a pirate most days but honestly, he was.

even if the damned ship didn’t move, his father still acted like it was something worth while. oh, a pirate’s life and all that. sighing softly, he ran a hand through his hair, in an effort to not drab another drink. despite his lack of knowledge when it came to most things the respectable society norms, he certain knew how to drown a man in an inch of water. or even impale an with his eyes closed. at least his hands would get a little dirty.

he had spent the night being friendly. getting to know people. feeling Nikolai’s eyes on him and all he offered was a little nod. he didn’t know what the devil of a man would be up to, but he was certain it would be exciting. it wasn’t as if he had ever been disappointed before. hopefully, having new targets would make it all the more interesting.

before he could feel his mind slip away to a better place. such as tossing himself out of a window, he could feel the presence of one of his favorite people. it was the shimmer of crimson hair in the corner of his eyes that told him his evening had just gotten better. but honestly, it was the words that left her mouth that made his heart go a little pitter patter.

“you’re simply a poet after my heart,” a knife would make his evening interesting. a knife would make it a dash of colorful he truly enjoyed. not to mention it would be absolutely delicious to feel the blade. one couldn’t threaten him with a good time. “please, don’t make promises you can’t keep in public,” he teased softly. not bringing too much attention to his words, knowing she wouldn’t wish for them to be heard.

turning his attention to her completely. he finally took in the sight of the garish gown she had been forced into. he wasn’t certain there was a god. “that dress…” he stopped for a moment. how could he say it was horrible without making it sound like she looked horrible? honestly, her presence in the dress was doing the terrible thing a favor. “truly, it is blessed to have you in it. but i am certain it would look better on a pyre.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

It was actually unfair just how restricting and boring their clothing had been forced to become since they’d departed the Shadow Realm. And for what? Lydia’s bodice wasn’t nearly as low as she’d prefer, and the empire waist was hitting at a spot on her body that seemed to hide her figure entirely. And the pastels of it all! She’d been shoved into pink, but she knew it was only a matter of time until they attempted to force her into a light yellow, or even a pale blue. Had the modiste any understanding of her complexion? Appalling. Why should Lydia be made to suffer when at the very least she deserved jewel tones? At bare minimum ruby, if she couldn’t have a richer red. Add in the fact that her hair was pinned back and she’d been forced into gloves and a shawl like her grandmother and Lydia had never looked less like herself.

But at the very least neither did Andres. The male’s Auradon-approved look was... clean. Tight, which in her opinion did him somewhat of a favor, but almost too clean. Something was off about it, as if he were a child playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. They both were. She very much preferred how they were when they had no one to impress - he in his pirate attire and she with her hair free and her gowns properly fitted and colored.

But sadly she didn’t control the fashions of Auradon.

Yet.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” she murmured, happy to at least be able to resume their game of verbal cat and mouse even when she was looking like she’d decided to really become one with the light pink roses she had spotted outside of the building.

If only she had brought the knife that evening to make sure Andres knew she’d make good on her promise if pushed. Alas, the blade had been left in her chambers, her assumption having been that security would be increased for such an important event. It had been quite some time, however, and Lydia had gotten the sense that no additional security protocols had been enacted.

A show of trust, perhaps? Or a fatal error? To be determined.

Surprisingly thankful for what felt like a genuine compliment from Andres, Lydia didn’t let her split-second of sentimentality show as she instead rolled her eyes at the male’s comment.

“A creative way to tell me I’d look better without anything on. I did consider flames, but I know that we’re meant to be playing nice tonight. If I’m going to be dressed as a pastel confection, it has to benefit me in some way. And I’m determined to make sure it does. You see, Mr. Hook, I have decided to ingratiate myself to society. To infiltrate them. What better way to influence others and cause mayhem for a well respected family than to temporarily be the embodiment of the age-old saying ‘if you cannot beat them, join them’? You’re welcome to join me in this endeavor, but you are also, of course, always welcome to decline.”

» » ─────────────── ▶

#* andres

reinerist

#*

If Lydia could have avoided everyone that she knew that evening, she would have.

She didn’t much care for the opinions of others, but she had no doubt that at least one person whose opinion at the very least could get under her skin would have a thought or two about her apparel selection for that night’s festivities.

Her mother had always been known for wearing pink.

She was not her mother.

Lydia had taken one look at the light pink ensemble that had been laid out for her and the overwhelming urge to set it aflame had almost won out. But it had been a gift with a clear societal expectation of acceptance, and at the very least she knew that she needed to be thankful she hadn’t been shoved into the horrible chartreuse frock that someone else from the Shadow Realm had been forced to endure. She’d donned it begrudgingly, and let one of the overeager girls in a nearby room do her hair in what they insisted was the latest fashion. She had no doubt that she looked like a proper young lady, and she hated it.

She had much to say about how she had the feeling that they were all playthings for the Auradonians, their little dolls that they could dress up and have their fun with only to be discarded once they’d grown tiresome. However, there were more pressing matters at hand at the moment.

Eyes darting about to take in the luxury as soon as they’d been admitted to the great hall before them, it had only taken seconds for Lydia’s gaze to land upon Andres. Her attendance at his side came swiftly after. There would clearly be no avoiding that evening, so she found it of high importance to get things over and done with as soon as they possibly could.

“Before you say anything, know that I was able to procure a blade upon our arrival in town, and I think we both know that I would be unafraid to use it.”

@talesnbone

#* andres

discnchant:

Darien was far too distracted that evening, but how could he not be? He’d never seen anything quite like the things he’d seen in Auradon. Except for Low Town, that was pretty similar to home. But everything else? They were the most amazing sites he’d ever seen. Palaces of grandeur, well kept and colorful gardens, visions of opulence and splendor. The chateau was immaculate, with its intricate molding and beautifully kept decor. He spent less of the evening flirting or dancing and more of it staring at large portraits of the royal family, wandering down exquisite hallways, and touching nearly every book in the common rooms open for exploration. Every nook and cranny of this place was like out of a dream.

So occupied in testing out a ruby red velvet chaise that sat below a window — a piece of furniture larger and more comfortable than the so called bed he used back home — he was none the wiser to anyone paying him attention, much less his cousin who was perhaps far more observant that evening. When he’d heard Lydia’s voice, he’d practically hopped to his feet at attention. She was older, stronger than him, far better suited to the grim world they had called home. He just was used to following suit and even cowering behind her. He felt comfortable in her presence and respected and admired her as a superior in a way. So he didn’t even think to hesitate at her request to dance, nodding gleefully along before moving to walk with her. He’d not noticed whoever was chatting about him or paying him any attention — but he was quite daft after all.

“The quadrille,” he echoed slowly, brows knitting in a way that caused lines to crease his tall forehead. He was clearly thinking hard, though his expression resembled the kind a person may have when they sucked on something sour. “You may have to remind me how that one goes,” he admitted with rosy cheeks, an embarrassed smile coloring his features. “I’m afraid I forget all steps when it comes right down to the time to do them. I really am not suited to lead, I’m so clumsy.” He laughed at himself, as he so often did.

“Have you made any friends tonight? Or any other dance partners?” There was another burning question on his mind, perhaps the most pressing since the news of their freedom first came. Everyone had a connection on the other side, but Darien and Lydia had a pretty odd one — family. An aunt and cousins they never knew. It was a little scary to think about, though if he were telling the truth… he really wanted to meet them, and to hopefully be close to them as he was to Lydia. He’d just been too nervous to say anything, even when he was seated next to one at dinner. He paused to think it over before resolving to ask, “Have you spoken to our cousins?”

____

“I will happily lead,” Lydia lied, knowing that she didn’t know a single step in the quadrille. She wasn’t even certain that was the dance occurring at the moment. She had simply wanted to get Darien’s attention and get him away from those who might be of the wrong sort to associate with someone so near and dear to her heart. She had figured that he may have picked up on something since their arrival in the ‘ton, or that he’d maybe decided to learn when they were back home.

Alas.

Nearing the dance floor, Lydia quickly decided to avoid potential embarrassment and lead them towards the refreshments instead. A strawberry confection had caught her attention, and she’d much rather be the talk of the town for eating improperly (easy to explain that the desserts were simply too good) than being completely useless on a dance floor. She didn’t want to play by the rules of society, but in order to gain social ground she unfortunately needed to be seen as somewhat respectable.

Thankful she had not yet picked up the dessert when her cousin asked a question that undoubtedly would have unsteadied her hand.

Had she made any friends?

Lydia was grateful for the male’s quick clarification, because they knew equally as well how well she had been able to make friends in the past. She was more brash, more loud, more bold. She clashed with others and had no interest in playing nice unless it suited her. Aside from the male who had been saddled with her for life through blood-relation, Lydia only had two friends. One of them was essentially an adoption of a younger sister and Andres...

“No,” the girl answered, her reply short and easy. “Have you?”

Reaching then for the delicacy that had narrowly evaded her grasp before, Lydia popped the entire thing into her mouth before she could question if it was ladylike or not, a hand remaining in front of her lips as she chewed to hide the fact that she was likely the picture of non-decorum. Her actions gave her more time to digest Darien’s cousin question as well, which she was thankful for.

“Yes, I did speak at a Charming. But only at dinner. I firmly believe that the individual who created the seating chart had a great laugh at our expense, seating a Charming in between the two of us. There are sadists among us tonight, Darien.”

#* darien

Lydia Tremaine was not having fun.

Having spent her entire life believing that she’d never escape from the Shadow Realm, she’d never bothered with learning how to dance, or make polite conversation, or any number of things that would make for a seamless transition for her into Society.

Andres had made fun of her the second he’d spotted her that evening, and though she could scornfully stomp on his foot to show her displeasure, she couldn’t blame him. Everything about her ensemble that evening was a direct clash against her very being.

But her cousin... her dear, sweet cousin. Society looked good on him, she had to admit.

Darien had always been the happier of the two, with a bright smile offered to all. The Tremaine good looks had skipped two generations but had thankfully manifested in the both of them, and as Lydia sipped at a glass of lemonade, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop on two (clearly lower) society ladies, who were discussing none other than the object of her familial affection.

If Darien was going to be a cog in the machine that was the marriage mart, Lydia would be damned if she let him near anyone who wasn’t absolutely rich, destined for greatness, and... equally as good. And her spectacular sense of judgment was telling her the women nearby didn’t stand a chance.

“Cousin,” she greeted mere seconds later, her overprotectiveness allowing her only one moment more to side-eye the women before she had fully turned her attention to the male.

“I believe I have a spot open on my dance card. Might you accompany me out onto the floor? I would so hate to be sitting on the sidelines for the quadrille.”

@discnchant

#* darien

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