@violent-nobility Okay, here’s the end of it, babe. If you decide you’d like to continue it someday, you know I love this story. But if not. It is a beautiful piece that I simply need to have on my blog.
"Thank you for coming into my life at all, Emma. Emma... simply to look into your eyes gives me hope. I always believed in love as well, although circumstance prevented me from ever seeking it out -- circumstances that I am now grateful for, as it seems every moment, every choice, has led to this.. .To meeting you."
Hearing her own name on his lips could possibly be the best thing she'd experienced in any moment in her reality. She wanted him to keep saying it.
"Have you any secrets, Marcus?" She asked, taking his arm again as they exited the maze. Emma was not asking him to reveal said secrets, but only to acknowledge their existence.
"Yes," he answered, after a moment of hesitation. "I do. Secrets that have weighed heavily at times, but have ever been an honor to bear. And you, Emma? Have you secrets?"
"I do. Secrets that are carried better on my own shoulders than left to weigh on another. Secrets are good. And I want you to be assured that I will never demand yours from you. Whether I see you in a year, a month, or never again.". She squeezed his arm. He was perfect. "Thank you."
She spoke as if their time together was already ending, and Devonshire wasn't sure how to feel about that, or what he should say. Instead, he nodded to her, and they continued slowly ambling back towards the house. The last of the guest carriages was already departing, and they could see their dark silhouettes dancing away down the road.
"I hope that one day, we will not need to speak of if we see each other again," he finally said, the words coming out somewhat too stiffly to be so tender. Their honesty was on his face, though, and in the way that he pressed his hand over hers for a moment.
Emma wanted to comment that maybe there would be a day when they discussed the next time they would have to part, instead of the next time they would see each other.
But such optimistic things seemed childish.
And tonight she didn't want to seem like a child.
If they were back in 2016, Emma would have stretched to kiss his cheek, squeeze his arm to reassure him. As it were, she loved the way he covered her hand with his own. But they were drawing too near the house.
"Are you sure you cannot be convinced for one more trip around the gardens? Will your sister terribly miss you?"
Part six. This is the last complete part I’ll do, and then the next one will be reblogable, if you ever have the desire to do so. -- @violent-nobility (also, fuck you for having the most romantic muse in the history of RPing.)
"I have hunted before, but I -- prefer not to hunt for sport, only when it is necessary. Life is too precious and miraculous a thing to take unnecessarily." Marcus sounded somewhat uncomfortable now that they were speaking of him, but he did his best to remain relaxed and to sound easy and conversational. "I am a fair shot, though, and when it comes to combat, I am competent enough... Musical may be a bit of a stretch, however. The violin and piano are all I am acquainted with; I cannot sing to save anyone's life.
"What of you, Emma?"
Emma. He shouldn't say her name, not like that; her name was hers, and not his to caress. Marcus cleared his throat very quietly.
Her lungs expanded with a very quiet, subtle gasp, that seemed more like a deep inhale through her nose. There was something so personal in the way he quietly said her name. Never in her life... or in her previous life? would she have thought that something so simple as the way those four letters fit together between someone else's lips be so impactful.
Bless this century.
"I... have played the piano a very, very little. Lessons when I was young. But I transitioned to the flute when I was about ten." Crap, was the flute invented by this point? She thought so, but never really cared much about the history of the instrument. "I let music go, for the most part, after my parents died. Now... Now I read, primarily, in my spare time. I go for walks. I keep to myself a lot. I write some, very little." She shrugged, never having been good at speaking of herself.
Suddenly, she placed a hand on his arm and nearly squealed in delight. "Oh, Marcus, look!" Shit. "Sir. Hollin. I... Apologize. I... have never seen wild lavender before. I got over excited. Please forgive me."
"Forgive you for what?" he asked, bemused. "For enjoying life? What is there to forgive in that?" It seemed strange that she had never seen lavender growing wild before, but he didn't want to ask about that. Instead, he said, "I hope you will see many more wondrous, new things before you return home.
"If time permits -- would you allow me to help you experience some of those things? We're only staying another day or two, but Daphne and Oscar have already demanded that tomorrow, weather permitting, we go riding. If you would still like to learn, perhaps you might permit me to teach you? The countryside here is stunning -- and I must admit to being selfishly inclined to ask as much of your time as you are willing to give."
He... was asking to spend more time with her? Daphne, Emma could almost understand. She was a sweet woman, open and affectionate. And Oscar? Well, Emma had her own theories about him. But this man was distant and dark, but he was open to spending more time with her, to being with her. And... if she hadn't promised Wade that they could leave first thing in the morning, she would have agreed without hesitation.
"I was apologizing, your grace, for using your christian name, when I only met you this evening. It was very forward of me, and I do hope you can forgive me for such an outburst." Her hands folded neatly in front of her and she leaned in to smell the lavender, a soft smile spreading across her lips.
"If it were my decision, your grace, I would not tell you no. I would very much like to spend the day letting you teach me to ride. But, I did give my word to Lord Wilson. If he chooses to stay for another day, I am at your leisure."
"Then I pray that he will choose to stay," he answered, watching as she smelled the lavender, loving how happy it made her. To be so delighted by something seemingly so simple was a beautiful thing to witness, a rare thing, and he almost felt as if he should not have witnessed it at all. It almost felt private, and thus the moment was all the more precious.
"And as long as you permit me to call you Emma," he said, "it would be a pleasure to hear you continue to call me Marcus, when and if it pleases you... I had -- please, forgive me for speaking bluntly. Earlier, I realized how our initial warmth towards each other could have been taken as something -- less than appropriate, by that jealous crowd, and I sought to remedy it. I.. did not think it through, though, and I am sorry for leaving you, especially as it seems our time together may be so limited. The opinion of those who are nearly strangers means nothing unless we give it leave to... and I would rather try to be your friend than try to please those who... do not matter to me as much as they should."
Emma smiled softly. "I try not to carry people's opinions with too much weight. Granted, to be presumed coquettish after just one evening, less than that, actually, was a little disheartening. But it doesn't matter the year or the scene, gossip will flourish where it can." She imagined, actually, that him flying to her rescue may not have helped, but only fueled the gossip fire.
"I imagine Wade is running around here somewhere with Lord Moran. If you would, after we are finished with our stroll through the gardens, if you would be willing to help me find him, I should be indebetted to you, for I would very much like to stay for at least one more day."
Asking Wade to be able to go back on her word was rude, because she knew he would say yes. It wasn't fair of her to take advantage. But she had to hope that Sebastian would be enough of a distraction for him.
After a beat of silence, Emma plucked a lavender blossom and held it to her nose, looking back up at him through long lashes, blushing softly. "I would like very much for you to call me Emma."
"Then you must call me Marcus. Please."
Marcus hardly knew what to make of Emma. She said the strangest things at times, seeming to step out of a shell and become someone almost bold, with a strong heart and a cutting wit, and then she smiled and let herself ease back into softness, yet she didn't seem changeable -- certainly not in any sort of disagreeable way. She didn't seem in any way deceitful or tumultuous, just secretive, as if she held something within herself that offered her limits, but limits she might not need.
"I believe that I saw Lord Moran and Lord Wilson walking towards the hedge maze earlier; it's not far from here, and if I recall, it's quite lovely. After dark, the lanterns can be a bit far between, but if you would like to search for them there, it might prove to be an adventure." He tried to sound as cheerful as anyone else would, although he knew that his natural demeanor was to be more severe, more harsh, than most. Still, it was difficult to feel like a storm cloud when permitted to be so near the radiance of the stars, imbued in a living being.
"Marcus," she replied in a whisper, smiling, allowing herself to taste the personal flavor he'd allowed her to have. She liked this man. She liked that he was quiet and brooding, that he was closed off, cryptic, distant. And what she liked most of all, was that he was opening up to her. She liked that he was allowing her to call him by his first name, something you never really saw in the old novels. She liked that he stepped out to face those who would question her integrity.
He was a gentleman.
And. He was gorgeous.
With his suggestion, her smile broadened. "Yes. Yes I think that is a wonderful idea. I quite like adventures. Wandering through gardens in general. And, as if those two things weren't enough to persuade me, I find your company to be quite agreeable." Emma stood at his side, her hand slipping into the crook of his arm. "Lead the way, Marcus, if you will."
"It will be a pleasure, my lady," he replied, a small but truly happy smile touching his face as they headed into the hedge maze. Once there, unfortunately, it didn't take long to find the lords Moran and Wilson, as the latter was doing a one-armed handstand on top of the fountain and singing about 'if you seek Amy.' Strange.
"Perhaps we've come at a bad time?"
"Tatas!!" Wade beamed and waved with his free hand, then flipped off of the fountain. "I mean, cousin! Cousin! Hey!" He bounded over and picked Emma up and away from Marcus, hugging her.
As she was pulled away, Emma looked back over her shoulder at Marcus. She didn't know how normal this would seem to him, but as soon as she was free of the embrace, Emma offered a polite nod to Sebastian and then stood closer to Marcus yet again.
"Cousin Wade," she said, batting her eyelashes. "Marcus here has invited me to join him and his sister to go riding tomorrow. But if you still have plans to leave out at dawn in the morning, of course I will keep my word to you and leave with you. But you and Lord Moran seemed so... focused on a mission? Though I 'm not sure what it is. But... I'm rambling."
Without thinking, she again slipped her hand into Marcus' arm, standing beside him, with him. "Whatever you want, cousin, we will do."
Wade might be a butterfly sometimes, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he wasn't an idiot. He shook his head and held his hands up. "No, no, no. We're just playing soldier games out here, we're fine. If you think that I would stand in the way of your happiness for one minute, cousin? You're a dumby. A dumby." He stepped over to her, took her face in his hands, and smooched her forehead. "And no cousin of mine is a dumby," Wade murmured, "so don't believe for a second that I would want you to miss out on any of this."
He stepped back. "Besides, Seb and I don't get to see each other enough anymore. We'll just fool around I think, if you don't mind putting up with my absence. We're pretending to hunt monsters. Fun, right? Also hey, hey, tall, dark, and handsome! I was hoping she'd choose you. You're a hottie with a naughty body."
"I... thank you, Lord Wilson."
"Oh yeah, hell yeah, Your Grace, anytime."
Sebastian smirked and shook his head, not knowing how someone hadn't had Wade committed yet. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting couple of days, and Sebastian didn't much mind where they were, so long as he got to spend time with Wade again. Once in a blue moon would be more often than they'd been given as of late.
"You're sure? Wade, I made you a promise. And while you don't want to stand in my way, nor do I for you. Please, if you decide that we need to leave, please do not hesitate to tell me to pack my things." She felt selfish for even asking, looking up at Marcus and offering him a small smile.
"My cousin is enthusiastic, and a little out spoken. But he means the compliment... How you take it is your decision."
"Outspoken? I have been called the Merc with the Mouth from time to time. And boy do I put my mouth to good use! But yeah, no, babe, yeah, stay. If it looks like we've got to run? We'll run."
Marcus almost put his arm around Emma, feeling protective, but he managed to restrain himself. It would be entirely inappropriate, and he had no desire to make her uncomfortable. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and looked at Wade a moment longer. "You speak as if there is some threat to her safety."
"Nah, who would want to hurt such a delicate little lavender blossom?"
"Indeed."
"Marcus, would you like to continue our stroll?" she asked, sensing the tension. She kept the strand of lavender that she'd plucked earlier in her free hand, before reaching across to slip it stealthily into one of his pockets. "I believe I heard something about a fountain within the walls of this maze? Would you care to show me?
Emma looked at Wade and curtseyed once. "Cousin. Best of luck in your endeavors at monster hunting. I know I will see you soon."
"Oh, yeah, find a better fountain. This fountain sucks. But there's a really good one further in." Wade curtseyed back, then coughed and bowed instead. "Um. Yep. You will. Have fun, cousin! Do everything I would do!"
Only once they were truly out of earshot did Marcus ask, "Is your cousin -- mad?"
Chuckling quietly, Emma squeezed his arm. "Perhaps a little. He's very... over the top. But his heart is in the right place. And I... would trust him with my life, if it ever came to it. He's loyal, if not a little over the top. But... yes, I suppose he is a little mad."
She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder, and then remembering what century they were in, figured she should really learn to watch her actions. "Tell me more about yourself, Marcus. If you don't mind, of course. I would love to get to know you, but if... talking about yourself makes you uncomfortable, then you can tell me about your sister, or something else that makes you happy."
The light, brief warmth of her head against his shoulder had made his heart race, and Marcus knew he was a lost cause. Her question focused him, however, and he nodded. "There is... little enough to tell, and I am rather -- unpracticed -- at approaching this subject. Perhaps, if you would do me the kindness of asking questions, of any nature, I could better serve your curiosity?"
She looked up at him. "You want me to be more specific?"
"Please."
There was a soft sound behind them and Marcus turned to look at it, but it was only a rabbit. Something about it seemed off, he thought, and his ever-cold gaze sharpened for a moment, but the rabbit came no closer. It slunk off into the shadows, and so he focused on Emma once more.
"Okay... Um. Marcus. What is the craziest thing you've ever done? What is something that you just said... 'screw it' and had a few drinks or walked out without your shirt or kissed a girl who you weren't courting. Or... something crazy that even now you know what a bit much, but it still makes you smile."
When another of the strange rabbits showed itself, Marcus took a turn that would lead them back towards the exit. He knew the maze well enough to be sure of it, and while he was perplexed by his own decision, he had learned long ago to trust his instinct. There should be nothing wrong with rabbits, but something about the way those gray things skulked about felt wrong.
He thought about Emma's words. Her phrasing was a bit strange, and he wasn't sure he understood exactly what it was that she meant to be asking, but he thought he had enough of a grasp to at least attempt an answer. Still, it was difficult to find a tale of something mad he'd done that made him smile; there were very few things that brought a smile to Marcus's face. There were several people, of course, but that was it.
"I confess, most of my adventures have been somewhat more grim. Forgive me, please. I don't have the -- sort of stories that I believe you're looking for." He meant the apology, feeling awkward, and reminded himself that there were reasons he should not spend too long with people.
Emma grasped his hand to stop their forward progress, though she trusted him to lead her wherever through the gardens or through the property. But she wanted to speak with him. She wanted...
"Please accept my apology. I just... assumed. Someone of your... I tend to believe that anybody living must have had a more adventurous life than I have had. That isn't to say mine hasn't been enjoyable, or at least had its pleasant memories, I am not my cousin, and not one to go hunting monsters. I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable, it was not my intention." She looked down, chewing at her bottom lip.
Like always, her desire for conversation, for being someone that those she was fond of to open up, she had made a conversation awkward and tense. She'd be surprised if he didn't suggest returning back inside now.
Maybe she should have just left with Wade.
"Oh it's not -- that there have not been adventures, simply that the adventures themselves have not been the sort to leave a positive memory behind, for the most part... and I have no desire to burden a heart as kind as yours with the sorrows of a darker past." When she looked down, he turned to her and reached out, touching her chin lightly to get her to look up.
"You," he said, meeting her eyes, "are not the one in need of any forgiveness, Emma."
Reluctantly, he let his hand drop away from her soft skin.
Though she'd looked at his beautiful face when he'd tucked his finger under her chin, as she felt his hand starting to pull away, she subtly leaned her face into his touch. It was as if a lifetime of having uninterested boys wasn't enough. Now she had a seemingly interested man in an era where him kissing her would be scandalous.
"What do you enjoy, then, Marcus? Riding, I know. But what of chess? Or reading. Do you garden or fish? Surely the thought of something, or someone, has the uncanny knack to make you smile any time it crosses your mind."
"Solitude," he said, after a moment of hesitation. "Which is not meant to be a reflection upon present company, of course. No, looking back on... certain adventures, there are some memories of beauty that I cannot help but remember fondly." He moved, shifting his left shoulder slightly, and his cold eyes took on a somewhat distant look.
"On my last journey, there was a moment when.... despite certain unfortunate circumstances, everything seemed beautiful. I was alone, near a field of lavender... Not wild, it was a farm, in France. The night had been cold, rainy, and everything was sodden... but when the sun rose, it was warmer than I expected, as if bringing not just life, not just hope, but encouragement. There were no other people, there was... the damp earth, the purple flowers, the birds beginning to sing, and bees slowly moving out to take wing. Those are the times that I find the most -- unforgettable."
Emma looked at him, her gaze filled with adoration. A slow smile spread across her lips and her chest filled with a sense of hope and longing to be able to witness such a sight.
"That... sounds absolutely stunning. I envy you such a solitude. There was one day, after a particularly difficult falling out between my brother and I that I... I found the tallest viewpoint in my city and sat and watched the sun rise. The sky was a beautiful light purple and pink and orange. Snow started to fall. Watching people wake, while being completely separate from them. It was wonderful."
Emma's words touched his heart, and when she said the part about being completely separate from them, Marcus thought that he knew exactly what she meant.
"There are certain things that... distance us, aren't there? Those moments when one must accept that the world will go on. The sun will rise on a hundred thousand more days than we can ever imagine, and there will be sunsets more beautiful than any we've ever seen. The glory of life itself will never cease, even if -- we are not there to see it. And there is a strange beauty in those moments, in the... realization of loneliness, whether it comes from true isolation, or merely acceptance of... a fate that others would argue must be fought and denied...
"Your sunrise sounds stunning. The snow coming in through that filtered light... I would have loved to see it with you, at your side."
"You are a very wonderful man, Marcus. I hope you know that." When he spoke of wishing he could have been there, Emma felt butterflies in her stomach, but her smile faltered.
This man had died somehow.
Just like she had.
And she wondered if he knew he was dead the way she did. Or if she only knew because of Wade's presence.
"Having you there to witness that sunrise with me would have made a perfect morning infinitely better. Perhaps one day, though there may not be snow, perhaps we will be given the opportunity to see such sights in each other's company."
Marcus knew that he had said something he shouldn't, but when Emma took it in stride, when she said that she hoped they could see something so beautiful together, watch a sunrise together, Marcus knew that she had not taken offense. There was more there, though, something that seemed to haunt her for a moment; he had seen it in the way her smile faltered, and he thought he could hear it in the way she spoke of that day as if it carried a great grief as well.
"If you wish it," he said, "then we will have such a morning. We will. And to witness it together, we'll see far more beauty than either did alone -- than either ever could."
She wanted to hold his hand and stay out in the gardens with him. God, she wanted just a little bit of mindless, simple happiness. But more, she wanted to be able to give him that same kind of carefree bliss.
"Forgive me for being too forward, but I might suggest the scheduled sight seeing sooner rather than later. After you leave in a couples days, who knows when I will be so fortunate enough to see you again."
Marcus started to respond, but fell silent, looking into her eyes, searching them. After a moment, he nodded. He took both of her hands and held them for just a moment too long, then kissed them both before letting go.
"If it pleases you, I accept, Emma."
With that singular, gentle gesture, Emma was lost. He could ask to court or marry her and she would accept. She'd watch a million sunrises with him, followed by a million sunsets.
"The prospect of watching the sun rise with you, even if it is just once, of getting to be entirely alone with you at my side would please me very much."
"Emma..." Marcus's voice had become a whisper, and he himself was lost. "May I ask you something -- unforgivably bold?"
"You may," she whispered, stomach twisting, butterflies taking flight. "Please feel welcome to always speak freely when you are in my company."
"Do you believe in love? Not as a concept, but love as -- something that strikes without warning, unlooked for? Perhaps a love that begins well before two souls ever meet, and then, in the moment that they do, begins to unfurl its wings? Is that.... If it is an inappropriate question, please, you needn't answer, I just... feel as if there is something wonderfully bewitching about your eyes. Your voice touches my heart, and it feels like -- being alive, in a way I had never expected.."
"I do," she replied, her voice far more steady than she felt. "I believe you find love not when you have given up, or when you've stopped looking, as I've heard people say, but I believe it strikes you when you have decided to accept your lot in life, your path or your destiny, if you believe in such things. I believe it comes to knock you off your rails and take your breath away. I... am a hopeless romantic, maybe a bit over the top considering I had never been in love before. But I believed in it."
She was blushing, but they were far enough from a lantern to hide the expression.
"The way you speak gives me hope I had long since disregarded. This place... I... it's all better than I had ever hoped I could deserve. Thank you for this evening, for the dance, for tolerating my cousin, and for reminding me how beautiful the view which follows the darkest of nights."
Part five. In which Sebastian confesses he loves Wade. -- @violent-nobility
"You? You didn't mess up. I messed up. I messed up. We don't have rules but every couple that doesn't have rules has rules and I broke them I told her all these things I told her that I worry that people don't love you that they don't see past the tiger's claws and the bloody stripes on your heart and your soul because maybe you don't want them to because it's easier to hold people at arm's length when you are killing evey day I know that I know that trust me, trust me, I get it, all I had was one-night stands for the longest time when I was a merc and it was the only way to handle just constantly not knowing if today was the day and that kind of thing isn't supposed to really bother the tough and the gritty but it does because anybody alive is scared of dying on some level no matter what they say and I shouldn't have told her how I feel about you because now --- I've done this before. I've done this before, I've fucked it up before, this is what happens, I say too much and I fuck it up and--" He finally paused to take a breath, then looked at Sebastian. "Please don't be mad. I don't want to lose what we have. You don't have to give me anything. Ever. I just. Whatever parts of you are okay for me to have, I want them, I kinda sorta love you, and it doesn't have to make sense because love sucks at making sense, but please don't be mad at me?"
He was glad it was dark, because Sebastian couldn't think about what he was doing with his face. At least, not until Wade finished talking.
Sebastian reached, twisting, he placed a kiss to Wade's lips that might have been the most gentle he'd ever been with someone. The kiss was slow, heated, and the tiger grunted slightly as his stomach twisted in a good way while his lips parted and his tongue toyed with the edge of Wade's lip.
When he finally pulled away, Seb rested his forehead against the other man's. "You know what she said to me? Because it was nothing about how you feel. Or what you said about me. She said that you deserve to know you're important, that you deserve to know that you are wanted. She talked to me about you. And everything she said was right. I'm distant, but I'm not obstinate. Don't run from me, Wade. I'm not mad. But don't run from me. Please."
"But I thought -- I thought we weren't allowed to -- that I'm not allowed to make any demands on you, and you might see that as a -- but you don't?" He swallowed hard, sounding far, far more calm than he felt.
"When did I tell you not to made demands? Love demands. It always does. I'm not mad. Look, I meant it. I'm distant and hard to love. Those are my words, not hers. So if you said them to her, I didn't know. But I'm reasonable. And I do know how to love." He rested his hand on Wade's thigh.
"Are you okay?"
He had been about to reach out and cover Sebastian's hand with his own, but his were shaking so badly that Wade clenched them into fists and pushed them against the floor for a minute.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good. I just uh -- I didn't expect this. It's not a bad thing. It's a good thing. A very good thing. I'm just uh. You know what I look like. What I usually look like. And you're letting me love you anyway. And that means... it means a lot. You're kind of the sun to me, and I'm a creepy disjointed solar system, and you're uh -- yeah. Yeah. Yeah." He took a deep breath, then put one of his hands on Sebastian's. "I promise, I'm usually more macho than this."
"I've seen you regrow limbs. But have you really thought I cared that much about your appearance? Wade, we've both been to war. Your battle scars don't frighten me."
He pulled Wade by his leg onto Sebastian's lap. "Stop worrying about how I see you, and know how I feel about you." His hands rested casually on Wade's chest. "Take a deep breath. Your cousin would argue that nobody would recognize the brightness of the sun if not for the darkness of the sky. And let's be real, I'll spend the rest of our days trying to penetrate your darkness."
That got a laugh out of him, and the laughter released all of that pent-up and ridiculous fear. Wade shook his head and wrapped his arms around Sebastian, then cussed under his breath.
"You're the actual best. You know that? The best. Thank you."
Fuck him right now.
"No."
Don't answer out loud! What the hell!
"Uh. Sorry. I meant. Know. Knooow... that... I hope you um, penetrate my darkness completely. And that since I have no doubts you've reloaded your rifle by now, I'd love to be penetrated right here, right now - but, uh, we should probably go and do that patrolling thing again... um -- unless I can blow you first? Maybe?"
"Wade, I'm yours to do with as you wish. If you want full penetration again, I will do it. Do you. I... am trying to use too many words to just say yes."
"Nah babe, I wanna choke on your foot-long Jimmy Johns big sausage pepperoni beef special." He kissed Seb quickly -- yay! yay for not dealing with feelings! Feeeeelings! LOL! -- and then proceeded to do just that.
-
Meanwhile, Oscar was saying goodbye to some of the guests who were already departing. Aureliano had just made him blush as he left, and Daphne and Marcus were at his sides, which left Oscar beaming in between awkward, stuttering goodnights. He was the first to see Emma, and he almost ran over to her to hug her -- almost, because he tripped on his way, and would have landed face-first on the ground if Marcus hadn't caught him quickly and pulled him back upright.
"I'm sorry, Your your your--"
"Think nothing of it. Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm -- Emma came back!"
Marcus let him go and Oscar bounded over to her. "Is everything okay? I saw you talking to your cousins and then they left, everything looked serious. Are you okay?"
"They're idiots," she replied, beaming in response, glancing up to Marcus in a shy manner, darting her eyes to his sister before landing again on Oscar.
"I'm sorry I abandoned your company for so long. You've been such a gracious host tonight. Are... it's not over, is it? I was hoping for at least one more dance. I'm not the most graceful, but I enjoy it so much."
A breeze wound between them and goosebumps raised on her flesh, but besides crossing her arms, she didn't acknowledge the chill.
Finally she looked at Marcus and Daphne. "You two are not leaving so early, are you?"
"No, heavens, no, we're staying the night!" Daphne said. "Thanks to sweet Oscar."
"And one of the violinists broke a -- a thing -- on his instrument, so the music's not so, not what it was,and people are heading home early," Oscar explained apologetically.
As for Marcus, his expression grew graver, and he took a small step closer to Emma. "Are you alright, Miss Taylor?" he asked softly.
She looked up at him, eyes wide, nodding hesitantly. "The evening air has cooled, is all. The breeze gave me a slight chill. I'm well, thank you, Your Grace."
He was tall, and broad shouldered. And handsome. And about eight leagues beyond her. But that didn't stop her from admiring him.
"It's a shame... I once knew a gentleman who knew a gentleman who fixed violins. He was rumored to be the best out there. Shame he's... well, he's out of reach to save this evening's festivities."
"Indeed," Marcus agreed, turning to look at where the musicians were awkwardly packing up. "I offered to look at the violin, but the musician seemed far too embarrassed to consider it."
"My brother's a musician," Daphne said. "He learned from the best. What was his name? Michaels?"
"Mikaelson. Elijah Mikaelson. A most remarkable man -- both a musician and a luthier, a man of pure, yet restrained, passion."
"And quite handsome."
A ghost of a smile touched Marcus's face, but he looked at Emma again. The room was quite warm, he thought, and perhaps the chill from the door had come in, but he hadn't noticed it.. Still, the ladies were all dressed in far lighter clothing than the men. "Perhaps we ought to move away from the door, Miss Taylor? Oscar--?"
Oscar nodded. "You know where the parlor is. You three should go and relax. I'll join you when I can --- if -- if it's not too presumptuous, Your Grace."
"It's your home, Oscar," Marcus replied, smiling.
Oscar blushed but looked delighted -- and studied his feet.
Emma rested a hand on Oscar's shoulder and smiled, "I do hope you join us," she replied then moved in towards the parlor.
As they entered the other room, she looked back at Marcus. "It was very kind of you to suggest a warmer room, but I don't want to inconvenience anybody."
"Is it entirely necessary to apologize for one's own existence?" Marcus asked, receiving a hard smack on the arm from Daphne's fan. He looked over at her and sighed, then looked back at Emma. "Forgive me, please."
"How ironic," Daphne smirked, then sat down on one of the couches and patted it for Emma to sit with her. "Really though, he does have a point. You're allowed to be comfortable and happy, no matter what company you're with -- anyone who would deny you your happiness is both a bastard," she gave her older brother a daring little smirk, knowing he disapproved of her rougher language, "and a fool."
She smiled weakly. "I understand what you're saying, honestly. But stopping a party or inconveniencing many for the comfort of one? It seems a little... high maintenance."
She shrugged and settled onto the couch. "Anyway, you said you knew Elijah? I never had the pleasure, but I've heard so many good things about him."
Marcus gave her a small nod, still watching her closely. He could not tell what was making her uncomfortable, and he hoped that it was not him. Perhaps he had overstepped too far, or had simply done something to get on her nerves; whatever it was, he hoped to discover it in order to mend his ways. She deserved far better than this.
"I hope you have the pleasure one day," Marcus replied. "Even if you do not meet him, I hope you are given the chance to hear him play. Mikaelson plays as if the violin is his soul, and it is -- so enchanting, one must feel that they are walking through darkness with him, praying for moments of light, but learning to let go of fear, to let go of anger. He is truly an inspiration, when he chooses to share of himself."
"As you are, no doubt," Daphne said, nudging Emma. "Please, now that we've found somewhere a bit quieter, will you tell us more about yourself? Without formalities, without fear?"
"You speak with a beautiful cadence," she said boldly to the Duke, relaxing some. Her brother had always told her she apologized too much. 'You're far too meek for anybody to ever take you seriously -- to see you as a woman, Emma. You need to toughen up.' She worried that her meekness rubbed people's nerves. She feared the Duke would tire of her before this dream even ended.
"There is nothing exciting to tell about me. My parents died when I was a teenager. I spend too much time, perhaps, at home. I have a brother. Older. And then... Wade. I guess. But I live a very, very quiet life."
There was a moment of silence, and then Daphne spoke up. "Our parents also died far too young," she said, placing a hand on Emma's arm. "We know your pain. I was nine and Marcus was thirteen." She ached with compassion for Emma, wanting very much to embrace her, but knowing she should now. So, instead, she smiled encouragingly. "And the quiet can certainly be nice. A lesson my dear brother ought to learn -- perhaps you can teach him."
With that, Emma's smile turned warm. "I think that might require him to sit long enough in my company before I can rub off on him."
Shit. Was that a saying? Or would they think her perverse.
"But I am very sorry to hear of your parents. It's... a confusing and upsetting time for any child. And with you so young." She covered Daphne's hand with her own. "Did your brother raise you from then on?" Emma looked to Marcus and her gaze was warm, inviting. "But you seem so much better adjusted than me," she continued speaking to Daphne before addressing the Duke himself.
"Eli could learn a thing or two, I think, about sibling relationships from you."
"Perhaps, one day, Eli and I will have the chance to meet -- although I am not sure what I can teach him. Doubtless, he already knows the one most important thing: love your sister more than any other man ever will."
Daphne teared up and looked down at her hands. "I love you, too, Marcus. And yes. He raised me. He ran the estate, he raised me, he became an adult far, far too young. And then, when I asked, he found me a husband who was not at all objectionable, and who values me more for my smiles than any station. Lord Egerton may be a bit dull, but he is kind, and I was never driven by dreams of love... Unlike my brother," she added softly.
Emma didn't know what to say. The truth was, Eli had abandoned her. Maybe he'd loved her too much. Or that had been his argument. And then they'd both been too stubborn to apologize.
And then the moment between these two, and the talk of his feelings of love. Emma didn't know what to say, how to look at them, or even where to place her hands. And so they rested in her lap, and Emma stared at them for a long moment.
"You are very lucky to have such a close relationship. I'm afraid... I side a little stronger with him in the matters of love, at least. Though, so long as the marriage is agreeable to your soul in a way that leaves you feeling grateful and fulfilled, then it sounds like a happy one indeed."
"Really, all I wanted was to marry someone who doesn't physically repulse me, and who lets me read and travel and explore to my heart's content... but Marcus -- tell her."
Marcus looked uncomfortable. "I am sure Emma does not wish to hear the details of my.. desires."
"On the contrary! I'm sure she does -- simply because all women love to hear what men thing. Especially the more reserved and foolish men." She took her glove off and threw it at his face.
Catching it, Marcus sighed. He looked at the glove, at his sister, and then at Emma. When he met her eyes, though, he felt as if his heart had almost stopped. For a moment, the duke was absolutely silent, looking into Emma's eyes, and then he shook his head once.
"Apologies, I..."
"Marcus, tell us why you've never married."
"I have -- never married because I've never fallen in love. I do not believe that love is something that is always.. easily found.. it is not dependent upon beauty or social standing, upon one's accomplishments or lack thereof. I believe it must be a -- almost a higher power, a divinity, that comes to us when it is ready for us, no matter how long we have waited, or how little time we may have left for it. I would love to meet a woman who understands that... sometimes, the most beautiful things are fleeting, and that we can never spend a single day lost in the -- idyllic complacency that comes with a faith in the notion of tomorrow. Life may be long or it may be brief, but I would be truly grateful to one day find someone with whom life may be... full beyond measure."
Daphne bit her lip. Marcus usually argued if she tried to get personal information out of him, but he had barely resisted telling Emma any of this. She looked over at Emma and hoped that this was not in some way hurting the sweet, mysterious woman. "Do you... what do you believe about love, Miss Emma Taylor?"
"Oh heavens. You do not want to hear me ramble about love."
"Let us not press our guest beyond her comfort," Marcus said. "The conversation is already scandalous enough, and we are certainly trying her patience. Miss Taylor, I apologize for any discomfort we have caused you; I should not have spoken so candidly."
"No, please do not apologize. I..." She sighed simply, turning her gaze to the low fire as a servant came and added another log to give it longer life.
"I believe each day is something which is not to be expected. I believe that love... Oh, I believe love is everything. I am a hopeless romantic. Which, considering I am the most stubborn woman in the world... well, it doesn't necessarily play in my favor. I believe that, should I ever find someone to marry, he should be someone I think about daily. The thought of the way he drools in his sleep or his bed head in the morning at breakfast, they should make me smile in fondness. I believe that you should feel their absence. I believe that even a picnic on a spring afternoon can be considered an adventure if it's with the person you love. I believe your lover should challenge you in every way, and that you should do the same for them. I believe that the fire of passion dies down, but what is left is a burning ember which warms the soul and heart and keeps you feeling safe and happy. I don't believe in marrying for status or money, but for smiles and kisses and..." She placed a hand over her heart, her eyes closing. "I believe you feel the absence of love the way you feel hunger. Once you've tasted the real thing, you'll crave more, more, never being able to have your fill. And I believe your heart knows your on the cusp of loving someone long before your mind will surrender to the truth."
Finally, she opened her eyes and looked back at Daphne, then to Marcus, her cheeks coloring with a blush. "I... I'm sorry. I rambled far too much. I told you you didn't want to hear everything I had to say on the subject."
"Hearing it was a gift," Marcus whispered, "and one I shall treasure. Everything you just said, that... you put it far more eloquently than I ever could. When the day comes that you find your true love, I hope that they give you everything -- that they smile in turn at your hair in the morning, that they laugh at even the worst of your jokes, simply out of happiness for having heard them. I hope that you feel that connection between you as a -- physical tether, from one heart to the other, a bond heavier than any chain, but which gives far, far more than it could ever take.."
Daphne was blushing as well now, but because she did not feel she should be here. She had to be, she knew, for the sake of Emma's reputation, but all the same...
She smiled, though the expression was genuinely shy, and she glanced at Daphne again, before laughing a low, soft chuckle. Emma stood, suddenly overwhelmed with energy -- with a lightness inside her which she couldn't explain.
Emma reached for a wrap which was draped over the back of a chair. "Do you think Oscar will join us soon? I'd very much love to go for a walk through his garden, but I don't want him to think we've abandoned him. Sitting by the fire... I seem to have gotten enough warmth." Her cheeks were certainly flushed enough to confirm her claim.
"Though, that is assume either of you have any interest in joining me. If not, I'm happy to go alone, and you may tell him I shall return shortly."
"Marcus," Daphne said, "why don't you walk with her? There's nothing untoward about being out in the garden together, although it is dark... I'll search for Oscar and, if he's not too busy, I'll bring him out and we'll join you. How does that sound?"
Marcus, who had already stood up the moment Emma did, gave his sister a look before turning his attention back to Emma. "If you would not mind my company, I would be honored to go with you -- and if you do object, I will find Oscar, and Daphne will accompany you. It is hardly appropriate for anyone to go out alone into such darkness, especially a beautiful young guest who is as yet unfamiliar with the grounds.
"Go," Daphne said. "My -- toe is sore from being stepped on, I need a few minutes before finding Oscar." She flicked her fingers at them.
The young woman inhaled deeply, feeling a wave of butterflies that she shouldn't feel, but she controlled her facial expression the best she could, bowing her head just enough to make it look as if she was accepting the offer, while she was also given the opportunity to cover her smile.
"I would very much appreciate your company, Your Grace, thank you." She looked to Daphne, however, and a small crease formed between her brows. "Do not strain yourself too much. I do not wish to further an injury. Though I'd love to be graced with your company, please take care of yourself.
It wasn't until after she'd spoken, quite genuinely, on the matter before she realized that it may come across as her discouraging a third party to their stroll. She chewed her bottom lip but took moved for the door. "I would love to share more in your confidences before the night is over, whatever you decide."
"If my toe recovers, I will certainly come and interrupt your walk," Daphne said, affecting a pout as she lay back and put her foot up. "You two had best go before the pain causes me to say something unladylike. Go. Quickly."
And so they did.
It didn't take long for the noise of the house to fade away, swallowed by the calm night air. Marcus had offered Emma his arm, of course, and as the two walked along in quiet together, it took a great deal of will not to simply stare at her. He found himself looking at her again and again, wanting to ask her everything, but so very few of those questions were acceptable...
Finally, he settled on: "Do you ride, Miss Taylor?"
-
Meanwhile, Wade and Sebastian were back out on the prowl, after Wade's impromptu sausage snack, and when the two lovebirds came into view, he tapped Seb. "Aww, look, she got the hot guy," he whispered. "How soon til they can bang, you think? By the way, do I have penis breath?"
Emma had taken his arm immediately upon his offering, though her touch stayed light. She didn't want to weigh him down in any way. Emma wanted to rest her head on his shoulder. She wanted him to stop under an ivy covered archway and kiss her softly. She wanted love.
"Sadly, I have never been given the opportunity. Though, I should very much like to try it some day. Horses are lovely creatures. Stunning, really."
She'd considered lying, but if he then asked her to ride out with him, and she got thrown off right away, it wouldn't bode well for her.
"Do you hunt when you ride? Your sister mentioned you are musical; what other talents have you to boast of?"
-
Sebastian smirked but shrugged in response. "Likely too long. It'll be weeks before he even dares to kiss the knuckles on her hand, I'd wager. Poor girl isn't gonna get her some the entire time you two are here -- you gotta feel bad for her."
Seb leaned in to whisper in Wade's ear. "Perhaps a little. I like it."
Part four, for you. The more I read back through this, the happier it makes me. You are the best. And I love this damn story. -- @violent-nobility
"Your brother did me no disservice. One of the gentlemen, whoever it was a that I had to dance with partially though the dance your brother and I shared, he merely insinuated that I might know the Duke better, more intimately, than we are. It's not... I mean, perhaps I should be more scandalized by how quickly they assumed things, but what else is the country good for if not to spread gossip."
Emma looked down at the gloved hand over hers and remembered again that this wasn't her real life, as much as she could get used to it. Somewhere there was Cecelia and Eli, even Oscar. Her Oscar (though the one she'd met here might be the next best thing.) Still, she couldn't let her heart warm too much at the idea that she'd caught someone's attention.
"I..." Wade. "I promised my cousin... He has hunting to do, or something. I promised him tonight before the ball that I would not keep him in the country past tonight. I cannot go back on my word." Though she hated the idea of leaving. Who knew how long she'd be allowed in this time, how long she'd have to get to know the awkward and cold man who seemed to actually take an interest in her? She wanted to stay a fortnight -- wanted to court him, perhaps.
"But you should know your brother is not quite as bad in social situations as you might give him credit for. He was incredibly kind to me, and I feel... thankful for having been allowed to meet him."
--
Sebastian barely had a moment to keep up with each new thing Wade was talking about. Regardless, the sniper enjoyed watching him come off the high of a fight. That was always the best part -- watching those who really got into it ride the high as long as they could once the fight was done.
"You think I would die on you? You think I spent all that time becoming the best shot just to let myself get hit by a bus, or to let my boss shoot me in the back to prove a point? It took you long enough to find me, Wade. I'm not going anywhere. And, honestly, there is nobody I would rather spend my days with, whether you are... like this, or if you insist on wearing that ostentatious red suit. I'm here. And I'm quite content to be so.
The merc with the million-mile-a-minute motor-mouth turned to stare at Seb, speechless. His jaw dropped and he looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just nodded once and looked ahead, touched by the reality of the moment suddenly. As they prowled around the perimeter of the house, Wade was uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn't until they got back to their starting point that he turned back to the sniper and stepped close.
Wade pressed a very soft kiss to Sebastian's ear, then another to his neck, his jaw, and then one to his lips.
"Real things are nice sometimes," he said, then touched his forehead to Seb's. "We should.. probably go check inside the place?"
-
Daphne tried to cover up her unexpected sadness, and for the most part, it worked. "Of course, we wouldn't want to keep you and your cousin from any plans you might have made together," she said. Glancing over, she saw Marcus walk back in then, his expression back to the one she knew so well -- the stone mask, the one that had only briefly been lifted during this party. Aureliano and Emma both seemed to possess some sort of magical claim to her brother's heart, and she only wished she could keep them in his life longer. Daphne had never known Marcus to give any woman attention beyond what was strictly polite, and now...
Well, at least Emma had entered his life at all. It was worth it to see a single beam of sunlight pierce the rainclouds, even once.
She smiled to Marcus when she caught his eye and he walked over to them.
"Brother, dearest, Emma will be leaving us tomorrow it seems."
Marcus gave a small nod and looked at Emma. "Wherever you go from here, I hope that your journeys will please you -- Emma." Her name was uttered just a bit more softly than the rest of the sentence, just enough to be noticed.
Always one to keep silent, Sebastian followed at Wade's left flank, always covering him, waiting for some weird new horror to pop out. Sebastian hadn't been a real part of a team in a decade or more, and he wasn't really sure whether or not he and Wade were the standard definition of a team, but Sebastian would cover him, protect him, at all costs.
Back in the maze, the tiger was surprised by the gentle touches, and he stood there awkwardly while being kissed -- not because he didn't enjoy it, but the thought of wrapping an arm around Wade and returning the sentiment wasn't something that just came to him second nature. Still, he managed to catch his doppelgänger by the hand, smiling.
"I'm not sure this is what normal people would consider real. The bunny corpses are gone, if you noticed." In there places were little charred spots on the ground. "But being with you is... nice. I'm not good at this. But I want you to know that whatever other sodding make believe happens tonight..." Sebastian rolled his eyes at himself and licked his lips. "I'm glad you consider me the thing that's real."
-
"I... honestly hadn't expected to have such a good time. I didn't expect to make friends. But Wade... well, there are few people in the world who haven't..." nope. Too heavy for party talk. "Anyway. He deserves for me to keep my word to him."
Emma found herself falling in love with the way her name sounded coming from his mouth. "Thank you. My cousin, I believe, found an old acquaintance, so I am not sure as to the new layout of his plans. But should I end up staying in the country... I do hope to be able to boast of more time in the company of the lot of you." She smiled at Oscar, and then when she looked at the Duke again, her eyes softened. "You've made my time here worth every second."
Oscar lit up at the praise; if he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging. His eyes were practically gleaming and he wanted to whimper with happiness that he had been included in anything to do with making Emma happy. There was no reason that he should be so pleased by this, he knew, but in a way, it felt like he had been waiting for her all his life, waiting just to help her in some small way. Blushing, he looked down and kicked the ground once, unable to actually say anything.
As for Marcus -- he had always wanted to laugh at the idea of falling in love in an instant. Now, though, all of his past opinions seemed entirely foolish; how could he ever have laughed at his own fate? And why was he such a fool as to fall for a woman he knew absolutely nothing about?
"I look forward to being allowed the privilege of getting to know you, Emma," Marcus said. "Whether you stay or whether you go. I understand needing to honor an agreement and could not expect anything less from a person of character, but only hope that you will write, on occasion, if only to let us know how your -- adventuring with your cousins goes."
"Your cousins," Daphne, who didn't remember if she was still in the scene or not but decided to be, said with a sigh, fanning herself. If only she were still single...
-
Wade looked at Sebastian for a moment, then gave a small smile before he shrugged. "Let's get back inside. Check it out. Start locking any unnecessarily open doors and windows. That seem okay? And check on my new boo and her boobies."
"What exactly are you anticipating to be caught by? And if we're to fight more, you need something better than a candlestick. Plus... the girl you're with... maybe if we're to fight, maybe tagging along isn't in her best interest. At least in the manor she can shut herself away, but if we take to the country roads, and then are ambushed..."
To put it simply, the only person Sebastian really cared about protecting was the one who didn't need his protection. She didn't belong in this fight. So they could stay at the manor until they figured out the point of this world, or they could leave her behind in search of answers.
"Did I hear you agree to dance with her tonight?"
-
Emma didn't argue about Sebastian, regardless of the fact that one had an American accent and one an English, they looked too similar for people to not assume there was a close relation.
"You are very kind," she said to the Duke, her hands folded together so that she could nervously fidget with her fingers. "I think I should very much enjoy at least a written correspondence with the pair of you."
Looking at Oscar, Emma placed a gentle hand to his shoulder, smiling when the music changed. "Would it be too forward of me if I asked you to share this dance with me? You've been so wonderful to me this evening."
"I have two left. Feet. I mean. I'm. I'd love to. Please. But I'm terrible at dancing?" Oscar looked up and met her eyes, eager and worried at once.
-
"Fuck! Yeah! Yeah, I did." Wade bounced. "So we gotta go back in there, or at least I do. And.. Thanos, Thanos, I think he's basically all-powerful, he can control reality and time and perception, so it's possible none of this is even real. I don't know -- let's just -- I don't wanna leave her. I said I wouldn't. Let's check out the house, I can dance with her, and then look around for some nice, big stabby-stabbers to abscond with?"
"That's okay, Oscar. I'm certain the Duke, here, will ascertain as to my lack of knowledge about the dances and how clumsy I am. And so perhaps I should apologize in advance, if you agree to dance with me."
-
Sebastian followed without question. "Do whatever it is you feel you must. I am here for you, it seems, as this world holds no other allure for me. I am utterly at your disposal."
As they neared the house, again, the sniper made sure neither of them had blood or weapons showing before approaching the lighted porch. "Go spend time with her. I'm going to smoke."
"Be safe. Stay vigilant. Yanno, if I lost you or something, that might be kind of devastating. So. Don't devastate me, Seb." He looked to be sure nobody was watching, then gave him a quick kiss before heading back inside -- just in time to see that sweet puppy boy go out onto the dance floor with Emma and proceed to trip over his own feet repeatedly.
Okay. Shit. That was pretty endearing.
Wade hung out near a wall and watched her with Oscar, a smile on his face -- and Oscar panicked and panicked but loved every minute of being allowed Emma's attention, although his cheeks were scarlet and he had never been quite so embarrassed before in his life.
"I'm sorry," he kept saying, at every mistake.
They didn't do a whole lot of actual dancing, but Emma enjoyed the hell out of Oscar's company, and when the song was over, she pulled him into a tight hug, letting him go soon after, apologizing for her own impropriety. "I hope you'll allow me another dance sometime in the future."
Her next move was to scan the room to see if she could spot the Duke, but her eyes landed on Wade instead, his red jacket standing out amongst the crowd. Emma smiled and moved toward him. "How was it?" She asked with a smirk. "The hunting bad guys, I mean. Not the painfully obvious sex you had." She gestured to her own head to hint at his sex hair. "Have you come to escort me away already? I'm not ready to leave yet, I'll admit."
"Oh shit, shit shit, shit." He tried to fix his hair, then turned to her. "Can you make it look less just-fucked? The painfully obvious sex was great, though, thank you for asking -- wait, you didn't -- oh yeah, monsters! Yeah there was a horde of shadow rabbits, it was pretty crazy, but we took care of them. Tip tip hoorah cheerio? I don't know British." He looked out at the crowd and smirked, then looked back at Emma. "That hottie keeps trying so hard not to look over here. What'd you do, bury a fishing hook in his balls and reel him in?"
Stretching to comb fingers through his hair, she paused in her actions when he mentioned the staring. Perhaps it should say something about her that she didn't even ask for more details about the bunnies.
"I'm sure I do not know what would give him reason to stare, particularly if it is who I believe you are referring. I've caused him nothing but one hassle after another tonight."
"Pretty sure he's doing that thing where you try not to watch your girl interact with another guy because she can interact with whoever she wants to, but holy shit it hurts because she's not interacting with you and all you want is for her to be close. Ohh, ohp, now he's turned away entirely -- didn't look easy. Damn, Emma. I mean, shit, if I wasn't madly in love with Seb I'd be into you too, you've got the sweetest little booberinos, but daaamn. He's into you. As he damn well better be. I kinda thought you'd go for the pirate, who wouldn't? Is there a difference between a duke and a baron or count or whatever the fuck rank of pirate-boy's counts in this country? Ha, counts."
"Wade, don't talk about my boobs in public. Pretty sure people here already think I'm a harlot." Despite their playful banter, Emma pulled her hand away. She didn't know why it mattered, it wasn't as if she had a lifetime to spend here. She wouldn't get to marry anybody.
Still, she didn't want the Duke to think her cousin was also her betrothed.
"I don't know anything about rankings, honestly. They do not matter to me." She looked over her shoulder for Marcus. "But I'd like if he didn't think you and I were a potential item. You understand?"
"Absolutely." Wade stepped back and held a hand to his chest. "And may I just say, you are the single most revolting woman I've ever beheld. I mean. Ew. Wow. To think, we share blood! My God. The very thought!" He winked, bounced in place once, then tried to stop smiling (and failed). "Does this mean I don't get to dance with you?"
"I've already told him that I have agreed to share a dance with you. I think. Unless you're too busy... what's the phrase? Screwing like rabbits with your doppelgänger. I'd hate to interrupt that."
"Whaaat? No, no, we were fighting rabbits. We screwed like -- wild beasts. Rabbits are known for being really quick, right? And if there's one thing that man knows? It's when to pull the trigger. Mmm! I could just eat him up! But uh -- everyone needs time to reload. So. Yes. Dancing. Dancing? Let's do the dancing, dear platonic cousin." He offered her his arm.
Rolling her eyes, Emma slipped her arm through Wade's letting him guide her out onto the floor.
"Let's." When they began their dance, Emma glanced across the room, past Wade, until she saw the Duke standing near his sister. "You'll forgive me, dear cousin, if I seem a little distracted tonight?"
"Oh yeah no, be distracted. You should totally do that thing where the hot chick in the period piece looks longingly across the room at the man of her dreams, while dancing with someone she really doesn't want to be dancing with. Do the thing."
As it turned out, Wade was an excellent dancer -- well, there were a lot of dances he was good at, and for once it was nice to get the chance to demonstrate that with his clothes on. Usually he did naked dancing, or mostly naked dancing, or getting naked dancing -- well, he used to. Before, you know, audience. Before the thing that turned him into a giant testicle with teeth.
"Sooo, fess up, what do you like about Broody McDarcy?"
"It's not that I don't want to dance with... wait. Are you calling me a clichè, Wade? It's not like I believe in love at first sight. And just because I'm fond of the quiet, brooding type. The damaged. Damn I'm a sucker for the damaged."
She smirked, and the grin only widened as the tempo picked up a little when Wade had to lift her by the waist and spin in one direction.
"It's a good thing you're strong, cousin. You barely broke a sweat with that lift."
"I might break a sweat trying to find ways to censor myself when you say things like that." He grinned. "Sooo, any idea how he's damaged? I mean everyone has a fucked up story somewhere in their past, right? What do you think his is?"
She smiled. "Is it weird that I don't care? It's not about watching the train wreck? But I. I want to be someone good for him. Or... I don't know. He's a Duke. I imagine there is pressure in some way from his family, expectations he doesn't feel like he matches up to.
"But when someone is damaged or perpetually sad or whatever, it's always so, so amazing when they smile."
"He's a duke, which seems to be a big deal considering everyone here goes white if he looks at all unhappy, and so yeah, I mean, maybe there's pressure. Either way, you notice nobody mentions hottie's parents? So they're dead. Or out of the picture. But probably dead, if he's got the title, right? So. Sad puppy duke McHotty Mcdamn you're going to have a good time touching that body... focus. Right. Yeah. So he's also a duke who's good friends with a Spanish count who somehow manages to be part of the English peerage as a baron, despite also having a most unsavory past. I think I smell a spy-yyyyy somewhere in this story."
She was laughing by the time he finished talking. "You have been outside with your own McHottie, how in the world do you know all of this?"
As the music shifted, and the dance seemed to change entirely, Emma looked past Wade once more, but Marcus was nowhere to be seen. A subtle pout showed itself on her expression with a small jutting out of her bottom lip.
"When I start being too obvious. Will you like, hit me? Or something? Like now." She met his eyes. "I'm sorry. You think he's a spy tho? Are there really spies in this century?"
"Do you not remember when I went around and left you for a while at the beginning of all of this? Dude, I am good at picking up on shit. Like, seriously good at it. Evil superhero, remember? And yeah, there's totally spies. There's a war with France right now, right? Fighting Napoleon and all that?" He flicked at his red jacket. "And wherever there's been a war, in the entire history of humanity, I'm pretty sure there've been spies. I mean, okay, so no, I don't have a legit reason to think he is --- it's just fishy. The mysteriously-absent Spaniard's an interesting kind of friend, right? I told you right off the bat that he's a pirate. But this crowd? Associating with a pirate? I don't knooow, I'd say there must have been some pretty serious service to England to get even the Count of Ampurias onto the Duke of Devonshire's arm.
"And I'm not gonna hit you, Jesus, woman. What do I look like, the abusive cousin?"
"Okay, fine, don't hit me. But just... don't let me be annoying with it. If I'm craning my head to try to find him, or..."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Tell me about your boy. The terrifying one standing in the only dark corner in the building. The one who has been watching you relentlessly. Speaking of spies or... assassins or something. He's is actually frightening."
"Frightening? Oh my god, yes, isn't he, though? He's terrifying. Could he be any hotter? I think he's -- I dunno, he seems kind of sad sometimes. Maybe I'm into the damaged ones, too. I'm not sure that people love Moran enough -- maybe he doesn't let them. Maybe they don't fight to get past his, uh, somewhat slightly kinda sorta prickly exterior. But either way... sometimes he seems lonely, and it fucks me up a little to think that what if, y'know, and this is probably stupid, I'm probably being an overdramatic dumbass reading way too much into it, but what if I'm the only person helping to ass-uage that loneliness? I mean I hope not, I want him t have all the love he can possibly get, but... I-dee-kay. It's a lot, sometimes. A good kind of a lot. I love the bastard."
"I would threaten him for you, but I think he'd..." her face scrunched into a frown. "You know what..."
Emma pulled from Wade's embrace and made her way over to Sebastian, who stood a little straighter when she approached him with such a determined expression.
"Listen," she grumbled quietly, making sure nobody was listening to her but him. "Wade... well, he's not really my cousin, but I'm assuming you know that. And I only just met him today. But what I do know about him is that he doesn't deserve some asshole boyfriend."
Sebastian's expression remained blank.
"I'm not telling you not to hurt him. I'm wagering he'd enjoy that. But open up a little. Let him in. Let him know that you care. Make him feel wanted. That's what he deserves. And he wants you. So don't screw it up, yeah."
Sebastian's lips pulled ever so slightly in the corner, hinting at a smile. "You're quite bold."
"I'm not. I'm scared shitless right now. And I don't cuss. Not normally. But... He's important. Don't forget that."
"You have my word, Lady Taylor."
She huffed, and nodded, and turned to find Wade.
Wade was standing exactly where she'd left him, looking like a completely lost, confused little kitten. It wasn't often that the deadliest man in the universe (well, sort of the deadliest, come on, let him live a little and get a nifty title like that!) would look like this -- only ever happened with matters of the heart, it seemed. And right now, he didn't know what had just happened -- at all.
It took him a moment, but he hurried over to the two of them. "What just... is everything... what?"
"Tell him," she demanded, getting an endeared roll of his eyes in return.
"You are important, Wade. You are important to me. And I know I'm an asshole, and I'm hard to read. People don't love me because I don't let them. I don't want to be loved because I don't think I deserve it. But you... I want you to love me. And I have this tiny, quiet, shy woman to deal with if I hurt you."
Emma beamed. "Damn right." She nodded once and looked at Wade, hoping she hadn't overstepped somehow. "I wish you two could kiss."
"We're not your Ken dolls, kid."
"The hell you aren't. And don't call me kid."
Emma looked at Wade. "I'm going to go find Oscar. Enjoy him while we're here. He loves you too." And she started to walk off.
"Um..." Wade turned and watched her go, then looked back at Sebastian, genuine fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I. Are... uh -- I should -- go. Um. Get. The stabby-stabbers."
Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He hadn't felt like he was actually going to be sick like this in years -- not since that whole dying of cancer thing. Abruptly, Wade turned and left the room, heading off to find a toilet where he could at least sit down on the floor and put his head in his hands, behind a door, and panic.
Sebastian watched him go, his brow creased, but when he met Emma's accusatory stare, and as she nodded after Wade.
Seb moved swiftly along the perimeter of the room. Luckily, Wade hadn't bothered locking the door, or the key for the lock wasn't present -- regardless, he slipped inside, turned off the light, and slid down the wall to sit beside Wade.
I will forever be in love with this regency storyline, and the stories we create together. Wade is the best. So is Marcus. And I’m excited for them to actually find some adventures together. This is likely part one of six-ish. -- @violent-nobility
"We're losing her!"
"Damn it, Doctor Pool!"
"But just look at all this--"
"There's no time for that!"
"Forceps!"
"What?"
"I don't know they just always say forceps in surgery things and--"
"Who are you?"
"THAT DOESN'T MATTER NOW! Hurry! Quick! She's... what the fuck?! What's that light? Is that -- is her brain -- is it GLOWING?! Jesus what the fuck is -- NO!!! OH GO!"
"What do we do, Doctor?!"
"Get back!! Everyone -- except me -- get baaaaaaaaaaaaack!"
In hindsight, maybe pretending to be a surgeon had been a bad idea. Of course, Wade had thought that he was going to be operating on a particular bag of dicks named Emmanuel Taylor, but apparently, would you believe it? The surgery schedule was a little more confusing to read than that. Mister Terrorist Pants was going to walk free, but the pretty girl with the apparently exploding brain was fucked.
Really. Fucked. Completely fucked. He knew that the second he saw her. Of course, it helped that Lady Death had been standing over his shoulder and was whispering things to him, like how the girl was already almost in her embrace, what he should do to make it quicker and ease the pain that she was feeling even while unconscious -- which was sort of creepy, really. Not the almost-dead girl, but Lady Death. Ever since they'd banged, she'd been spending a lot of time with him, and he didn't know how to tell her hey, babe, you were great but it was a one time thing, I'm not Thanos--
Who, speaking of Thanos, that douche just had to show up. Jealous ex. Ew. He'd apparently been Captain Invisible to everyone else, he'd reached out and put his hand on the girl's head, and he'd smiled one of his terrifying terror smiles while doing some kind of magical magic, her brain had started glowing, and Wade had gotten hooked on a feeling -- wait, no. He'd gotten the feeling that oops. Thanos was a dick.
Not that that would surprise anyone.
Petty piece of shit.
Petty purple piece of shit.
That could be a song.
No.
No.
But there was light and brains and then a really weird feeling of falling and then -- bang, look, there they were. The room was beautiful, a kind of cheesy looking Victorian gig or whatever. Maybe earlier than Victorian. Maybe even Jane Austen times. Whenever those were. 1812? Nah that was a war. Austen was definitely 1050. Maybe. No. That. Whatever.
The bedroom was nice. The furniture was nice. The beautiful girl laying on the floor next to him was nice -- oh it was brain girl! But without the exploding head. She looked great, actually. Wow. Who knew she was a hottie? Fuck Emmanuel. She was wearing some kind of anachronistic costume, a dress like this was Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, and aw, look, boobies!
No.
No boobies. She was asleep, he shouldn't look at her boobies.
Ugh. His head ached. He sat up --
"Shit!" No costume! No costume, which meant icky gross skin all over the place, rotten ballsack sores out for the world to see. Wade sprang to his feet and ran to look in the mirror, but -- "What the shit? I'm hot? I'm hot. Oh, shit. I'm hot again. Damn. Nice. Okay. Yeah. Wait. Stop talking to yourself. What? Myself. Stop. Talking to myself. Focus."
He whirled around to look at the chick again and was pretty sure that this ridiculous suit he was wearing -- and damn these were some crazy boots -- probably would go for a small fortune if they could just get to a city full of Austen nerds.
"Hey, hey, hey." He crouched down next to her. The house was buzzing with noise, people talking about some sort of ball, apparently some noble or whatever had moved into the beautiful estate next door -- however far away that was -- and that meant someone might come in here and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck Thanos anyway.
"Hey, hot stuff?" Wade shook her gently. "We gotta go. Come on. Get up. Thanos sent us here, which means bad, which means -- god you look nice in that dress. Uh, we gotta. Can you hear me? They're talking about balls out there."
The last complete memory she had was sitting in a car with Cecelia, waiting outside her brother's apartment, preparing herself to suck it up and talk to him about all the crap that had gone down between them. She didn't want to die alone. And it wasn't fair that he was asking her to.
He'd exited, looked across the road, noticed the familiar car and locked eyes with Emma. Then...
She noticed the ringing in her ears before the literal blinding pain had begun. Her ears had been the first thing to start bleeding. Before her nose, even, and Cecelia had wasted no time in taking off in the direction of the hospital.
Everything else had been a series of flashes of faces she didn't recognize, half of them not even looking at her, and pain. She felt pain even when the faces stopped.
When she started hearing voices, Emma relaxed into the knowledge that this was it. She would die alone, without her brother. Without a family. Just Cecelia. Which, in all honesty, was all she really needed. One best friend. She could die happy knowing she had at least that.
Emma could feel the lure of death -- the promise of no more pain, of any kind, and warmth, and all the Jane Austen she could stand.
It seemed perfect.
The background screaming and yelling she didn't really understand. Glowing brains? Who knew what the subconscious held on to. All she knew was she was ready for a time where the headaches ceased. Where the heartaches were no more.
She was ready for death.
And finally.
Silence.
When she came to, she was far more uncomfortable than she'd expected to be -- something was bound far too tightly around her rib cage.
And then. She heard his voice. Crazy and frantic and slightly insane. Emma opened her eyes, wincing, expecting the stream of sunlight to ignite a migraine. But it didn't. It warmed her.
She looked down at herself, dressed in full Austen-esque attire.
"So this is death," she replied up at the handsome man with the slightly troubled eyes. "But who are you?"
"Um, I don't think this is death, actually. I think we just got booted away from your death by this guy, this really awful guy, he's mad at me for banging Death, but heeeey. Wait. I mean, I'm Wade." He put on his best smile and hoped that it was comforting and good, then picked her up and set her on her feet.
"Your hair looks so much better when it's not shaved off. But listen, we should probably go and hide because there's this evil space alien who--" he made a face. "I don't know why I said space alien. Alien suffices. Wait, no, that sounds xenophobic, doesn't it? So there's an evil almost omnipotent space alien with a grudge and he is probably going to find us here and we really should just run, you know? Yeah. Running would be good. We've got to go find a car, and.."
That was when a knock came on the door and a maid entered. She smiled and bobbed a pretty curtsey. "Lady Taylor? Lord Wilson? A message just arrived from your parents, if you please." She handed them the card, which Wade took with a look of dismay. He opened it up -- and was devastated.
"They're staying in London, they don't care for the country weather, but they wish us luck? Why do our fake--- faaaa-- faaaaaantastic! Parents! Not want to be with us? That's -- you know what, beautiful maid girl? You should probably go -- um -- do -- things -- that would be helpful. Helpful things. We still need to talk." He tried not to shove her out the door, but basically shoved her out the door, then turned to Emma, held up the card, and both hands, took a moment to compose his thoughts into some sort of gentlemanly order, and said: "Shit. We're fucked."
Emma smiled. She'd didn't much care what the man said. This was death. Or at least, this was all she could hope for death to be. And maybe this guy wasn't the man of her dreams. But he was handsome enough. And he seemed... insane really, he seemed insane. But the fun kind of insane?
"I... would like to stay in the country, Lord Wilson," she said simply, moving over to a mirror attached to a vanity, sitting in a straight backed chair. "You may do as you wish. And despite what you've said... whether this is a dream while I'm in a coma, or death, or real life. This... is kind of... well, you'll think me weird, or a child, or whatever, but this is my perfect fantasy."
Emma's fingers carded through the ends of her hair. She could still hear the clippers from when they'd shaved her head. This was the dream. She knew that.
"You won't find a car. Perhaps a horse and carriage. But that's it. And besides. We're not making it to America any time soon. And if we do, chances are it'll be on the Titanic and I'll end up drowning in the Atlantic. Though, considering the time I think we are in, that won't be for another hundred or so years."
Finally, she looked again to Wade. "My name is Emma. And while I appreciate you being concerned about my well-being. I'm not leaving this place."
"Okay, Emma, but you're crazy, I mean, you're probably crazy. This place... you know it's not death, right? No, you don't know, whatever, I get that. I don't know what happened to you, maybe you got kicked in the head by a horse or whatever, but I know what dying feels like and I know that really..." Footsteps in the hall made him tense up and go quiet, but whoever it was kept on walking. "...uh, really trippy feeling of acceptance -- you know, that moment you realize this is it, and it's the worst thing but it's the best thing and it's not as bad as you thought it was going to be even though it hurts so much more and -- wait. Shit. Maybe we're both dead."
That made sense. No. It didn't. Because Francis. But....
Maybe.
"Okay. Whatever. We're siblings, I guess? And I'm not leaving you. Unless we're married. We're not married. Maybe you're married? I hope I'm not married. I'm not good at being married. Unless it's to Sebastian. Who you don't know. And technically I don't either, that didn't happen in this thread. But really, there are probably a bunch of monsters or -- something equally bad coming after us, and while I am all about fighting monsters, it's, I mean, it's sort of a kink, you don't seem too monster fighty? Also can I just..." He stepped over and started helping her with her hair. "I mean if we're gonna stick around, we should probably go help them play with their balls, maybe we'll find out who we're supposed to -- oh yeah, reading comprehension, here." He gave her the letter. "They think you're going to find a husband here. Balls. At the ball." The merc might have a mouth, but at least his hands were talented, and they certainly helped undo the damage that laying on the floor had done to her hair. "That's what the good luck is about. Apparently we need to get married. To other people. Which. I mean. You're plenty hot, and hello cute little tatas -- sorry, sibling line crossed -- but basically, you're way too chill."
Emma watched in silent. "But we have different names? And divorce isn't really a thing yet. So unless both our parents are..." She grew quiet. Even in this world, at least one of her parents were dead. And her real brother was still nowhere to be seen.
"I'm not your type. That's okay. Your handsome enough. But I still haven't decided whether you're crazy or not." The young woman closed her eyes as he fixed her hair and thought about all Wade's concerns.
"I don't want to get married. But I'd like to stay for a while, at least. This is a dream for me. And even if some monster comes, I'm pretty good at surviving, for the most part."
"Somebody's writing us a really sad story. Wow. It's probably Shiv. Fuck Shiv. But Emma, this isn't a -- okay. You know what? You like it here?" He finished fixing her hair, rested his hands on her shoulders, and met her eyes in the mirror. "I'll stay, too. If monsters come, I'll keep them off of you. If this is your dream come true, if this is what you want, then... embrace it and love it and I'll keep you safe. The way a brother should." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, trying to be calm, trying not to look too worried. "And how do you know you're not my type? Maybe I'm into angels."
"I'm assuming Sebastian is male? Not to say you can't be into both. But... I certainly don't think I'm a permanent type for you." She hadn't expected the sudden shift. The kindness and kiss. She lifted a hand to touch her cheek where the quick kiss had been left.
She'd expected to be abandoned. She always expected that.
"I... would like one day. One day to pretend that my life wasn't... so lonely. Then we can go do whatever it is you think we need to do. First thing in the morning tomorrow. We can go in search of whatever truth you believe is out there, if you'll let me live my truth tonight."
She wouldn't meet her Darcy, of course. But the dancing and elegance and romance of this time was enough. It was enough.
"Okay. So we go to the ball and live out the Regency -- it is Regency, right? -- fantasy. You dance and flirt and smile and meet all of the eyes with secrets that you may never know and they'll never know yours and -- he is male, he's perfect, he's so calm -- you live this dream til dawn. And maybe it ends then. Maybe it doesn't. I'll go and try to listen around, see what's happening, look for any signs that we're actually as fucked as my panicky nature made me think I thought we were, and... it'll be fun. Dancing. Pretty people with boobies and other pretty people with these nice tight pants." He patted his thigh, then stepped away. "Sound like a plan?"
"Will you dance with me tonight?" She asked suddenly. "Maybe that's too forward of me, considering the time we're in. And maybe it would seem strange if we dance as siblings. Unless... we're supposed to be cousins? In which case..." she blushed.
"In which case people here will half expect us to be courting."
"Cousins? Really? I mean yeah, of course I'll dance with you, hollaaaa, but -- wow. Huh. That's. Huh. But dance with other people too, okay? Don't hide from the dream that you've chosen, not now that it's here, okay?"
"Yeah. It's fairly common to marry ones cousin in these times." But she wasn't suggesting they marry. Or even kiss. But... he already felt familiar. She trusted him. And to dance her first dance with someone she knew in these strange circumstances felt the most reassuring.
"Do we... go downstairs? Or would you like to tell me more about PERFECT Sebastian?"
"I guess? Maybe?" He went and looked out the window -- and his eyes got huge. "Holy shit." The landscape was stunning. Nevermind that it was raining and cloudy, but the grass seemed to stretch on for miles, interrupted by the curving lines of a stream, the shadowy shapes of a hedge maze, a manicured garden. "Uh.. perfect.. Sebastian.... isn't... I think we're in England, this is seriously so English, like how I imagine it in romance novels, but... he's not here right now."
Turning around, he met her eyes, smiled, then went to grab the jacket that looked like it was definitely his. "He's a sniper. An assassin. He's chill and smart and you really can't shake him. I guess I look up to him." The jacket felt like it was tailor made. Weird. "And I mean, I guess there are worse people to look up to.
"So. Shall we go and see where the big ball is? Also, if you happen to snare a super hottie, share him, okay?"
"I should say the same to you," Emma stood, smiling, relaxing into this death. She moved across the room, standing near him at the window, looking at the landscape. It really was beautiful.
"I told you we wouldn't be getting to America any time soon." Emma stretched, her chest and stomach pressing against him so that she could return the kiss to his cheek.
"Let's get downstairs so that we can figure out the details of the balls of this place. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe your Sebastian is here somewhere. Maybe you are the one who is meant to find love in this world."
"Nah. I kinda sorta already had my chance. And I fucked it up. Big time." He shrugged and smiled, then went over to open the door for her, trying not to think about how sweet and soft she had felt when she kissed him. Nope. Definitely don't think about the maybe-cousin, maybe-sister.
"For the record," Emma said quietly back to him as the reached the top of the grand stairway. "I've never known of someone only giving one chance. If you show someone that you really want them, you'll have them."
Emma took Wade's arm and descended the stairs, leaning in to whisper where nobody would hear. "What I'm saying, is that I bet you didn't 'fuck it up' nearly as much as you suspect."
"You are the sweetest little bug," he whispered back -- but then the time for whispering was over as they walked into old fashioned costume porn. The clothes were amazing and the people were all over and there was music and a shit ton of lights and Wade kind of wanted to go find a closet to jerk off in just to prove that all of this was real, but they were supposed to dance together, so that would have to wait.
A couple of people smiled and greeted them, apparently familiar with them, and Wade felt a little rush of giddiness. This would be a fun guessing game! Maybe. Unless it wasn't.
The dancing had not yet begun, and people were still arriving -- including the extremely handsome young Duke of Devonshire, who made Deadpool quietly squeak into her ear. "He looks just like Henry Cavill! But more serious! Ooooh, I bet he's got buns, hun. Oooh, ooh, and look over there at that other guy, the one who looks like Oberyn Martel from Game of Thrones? You probably don't watch Game of Thrones. But heeee is from Spain, and that chick over there, I mean that lady, or not-lady, or whatever, the one in the pink, said to the one in the green that someone said he's a pirate who has some reaaaal shady dealings to be in the, um, piercage.
"Okay is it kosher for me to dance with guys? Cause daaaamn. Not that you're not amaing, I just wanna dance with everyone. Shit. Emma. Babe. You've got to go talk to someone. What about that kind of sad, Richard Armitage looking guy over there? He's probably the maybe-kind, maybe-creepy widower of the story, right? I mean, kinda old. But so's the pirate I guess. Nice legs though. Nice. Fucking. Legs. Oh, shit. I should whisper more quietly. What are you thinking? Wait, no, don't answer that, go flirt with someone."
She blushed, but seemed to retreat within herself. While Wade might be the type to approach people and flirt and openly... whatever, Emma wasn't. She kept quiet, eyes on the ground, figuring nobody would really notice her. That was okay, though. Really. Attention made her uncomfortable. Talking about herself was... torture. She appreciated all of Wade's efforts. But really, she didn't think she could do the whole over the top flirting thing.
Her expression turned into a coy smile, however, when she noticed someone across the room. "What about the Ryan Reynolds looking guy in the corner? The one in the uniform? The one who hasn't glanced at me since we walked in, but I don't think he's stopped looking at you." Her grin turned friendly and she encouraged him with a little nod of her head that he should go. Their dance could be saved for another time. Just being here was enough for her.
Meanwhile, she took into consideration the few that Wade had pointed out. The Duke was handsome enough. He looked huge, more muscular than she imagined men being in this time, but it didn't much matter, did it. The second... quickly had a woman flocking to each arm. Women she couldn't compete with. And the last? Well, Emma had enough of her own sadness, and couldn't really muster the energy to deal with a man's depression during her only night here.
Still, she couldn't make herself approach any of them. It was improper since she hadn't been presented, or at least, she didn't think she had been, though several of these people greeted her by name, smiled at her, offered her a glass of wine, which she declined. Wade could have the man who had been staring at him. She would sit and watch people dance. And she would be content in doing so.
Wade's heart nearly stopped and when he turned to look, he gasped and his jaw dropped. No. No way. It couldn't be... But was it? He had to know, he had to know, there was no way they could both be sexy at the same time, be dressed as sexy as they were, and not be meant for greater things -- like making out.
"Be still my heart. Emma, oh, Emma! Why, he's a man of wax - and I aim to melt him." He kissed her on the cheek "I'll be back for the dance, I promise. Okay? Have fun. Don't be shy. You're beautiful. And if we're dead, and this is an afterlife, then these people are here to love you, right?" He took a step away, then turned back, scooped her up, and hugged her a little too tightly before practically bounding over towards the hottie with the hopefully naughty body and the very familiar face.
His antics caught the Duke's eye, and he looked over with surprise before abruptly smiling, something that seemed to surprise the company he was with. When he met Emma's eyes, he lost the smile for the most part, although enough remained to show that it was still there, at least on the inside. He bowed his head to her in greeting -- which, again, caused a bit of stir. Marcus Hollin was known for being entirely antisocial and cold, and only ever attended any social event to escort his younger sister, who was currently chirping and squeaking with a group of her friends.
It looked like Devonshire was about to come over to meet Emma, but someone touched his arm and diverted his attention -- just as a young man with shaggy, dark-blond hair bumped into Emma. He looked down, apologetic, and shuffled a bit awkwardly, clearly not entirely comfortable being here. "Sorry," he said, and he looked at her with worry in his sweet chocolate eyes. "Name's Oscar. Not sure I'm supposed to be out here. Talking to people. I was asked to find the... the... Count of Ampurias? But I'm not sure where he is, miss. Got a letter for him, for the um, I'm not supposed to say pirate, but..."
