![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arsenicwaltzThe girl stands apart now from the dancers in her ballroom, watching the moon rise above the City from the window of the grand dining room of her palace. The green eyed man sits behind her at the table, playing idly with a single champagne flute left uncleared on the table. He is engrossed in thoughts of some sort which twist his face and beetle his brow, then make him mouth silent, empty words by turns. The girl watches him in the reflection in the glass, and despairs.
She turns to look at him, and he does not notice. She strides up to the table, and he does not cease his fiddling until her fingers are on the arm of his tuxedo jacket. Green eyes, startled, bore into hers. She sighs, inwardly shaking her head. He blinks, but says nothing.
"You have lived in my kingdom for a month now," she begins, but pauses.
"A month and more. Almost two. And yet you behave as a casual visitor. I see less and less of you, though I know you are around. You speak little to me, and littler still of me, and-" A sharp rapping at the window draws her attention, but she snaps it back nearly immediately...
To find the now empty chair in front of her, the champagne flute glistening in the light from the candelabras.
"-and you keep disappearing mid-conversation."
The girl sighs in frustration, and settles into a pile of rustling skirts at the head of her table, planting her head on two fists. She grits her teeth against the tears, but they are inexorable, and eventually she lets them fall, blotching the damask tablecloth and spreading dark trickles under her eyes. The candles splutter out, one by one, and the music from the adjacent ballroom fades to a slow, slow waltz, but still her tears come. Finally, a spindly arm unfolds slowly from beneath the tablecloth, extending a soft linen handkerchief.
"Missstresss..." The girl looks up, tearstains trickling away already like disappearing ink.
"Eddie? What is it?"
"Missstress, you have a vissssitor."
The girl takes the handkerchief and looks up, to find that there is indeed a dark shape inhabiting the chair next to her. He waits patiently, his shape indistinct in an uninvited Sending, and his pinpoint eyes revealing nothing.
"Lord Shaper," she starts, wiping her eyes, "Pray excuse me, I was not expecting..."
"You are... unhappy with him."
She is silent a moment. "I am not... unhappy with him. On the contrary, he makes me very happy sometimes."
"Sometimes."
She sighs, dredging up her frustration. "He is not... Not what I expected. He is here for a lark, a spree, and he's not here for any devotion to me."
The shadow remains silent, but there is perhaps a flicker of sympathy in those eternal pinpoint eyes.
"He is so... silent. I cannot talk to him, and he will not talk to me. I grow tired of chasing him 'round and 'round trying to ask for what I deserve for my hospitality, and then finding him other times in my bed, beseeching me with those eyes of his."
"His kind are not known for their mastry of speech."
"I have noticed. I was not informed of this at the outset." She grimaces slightly, her gaze turned inward.
"You did not ask."
She ponders this for a moment before replying "I did not. But now I ask your counsel, Lord Shaper, as he is a creature of your realm."
"I will not play messenger between you."
"That is hardly what I would ask for. Imagine, one of the Endless playing... No, no, not that at all." She pauses. "But I would ask how you think it is best I act, given the circumstances."
"You let him in on your own terms," there is a twinkle of humor now about the figure, "Perhaps you should exert your rights as both ruler of this domain and his Sponsor in it. I am quite certain he is enjoying his... vacation here."
The girl smiles softly, but the edges curl slightly into a relieved grin.
"Indeed, Lord Shaper. Your advice is most...astute."
She turns to look at him, and he does not notice. She strides up to the table, and he does not cease his fiddling until her fingers are on the arm of his tuxedo jacket. Green eyes, startled, bore into hers. She sighs, inwardly shaking her head. He blinks, but says nothing.
"You have lived in my kingdom for a month now," she begins, but pauses.
"A month and more. Almost two. And yet you behave as a casual visitor. I see less and less of you, though I know you are around. You speak little to me, and littler still of me, and-" A sharp rapping at the window draws her attention, but she snaps it back nearly immediately...
To find the now empty chair in front of her, the champagne flute glistening in the light from the candelabras.
"-and you keep disappearing mid-conversation."
The girl sighs in frustration, and settles into a pile of rustling skirts at the head of her table, planting her head on two fists. She grits her teeth against the tears, but they are inexorable, and eventually she lets them fall, blotching the damask tablecloth and spreading dark trickles under her eyes. The candles splutter out, one by one, and the music from the adjacent ballroom fades to a slow, slow waltz, but still her tears come. Finally, a spindly arm unfolds slowly from beneath the tablecloth, extending a soft linen handkerchief.
"Missstresss..." The girl looks up, tearstains trickling away already like disappearing ink.
"Eddie? What is it?"
"Missstress, you have a vissssitor."
The girl takes the handkerchief and looks up, to find that there is indeed a dark shape inhabiting the chair next to her. He waits patiently, his shape indistinct in an uninvited Sending, and his pinpoint eyes revealing nothing.
"Lord Shaper," she starts, wiping her eyes, "Pray excuse me, I was not expecting..."
"You are... unhappy with him."
She is silent a moment. "I am not... unhappy with him. On the contrary, he makes me very happy sometimes."
"Sometimes."
She sighs, dredging up her frustration. "He is not... Not what I expected. He is here for a lark, a spree, and he's not here for any devotion to me."
The shadow remains silent, but there is perhaps a flicker of sympathy in those eternal pinpoint eyes.
"He is so... silent. I cannot talk to him, and he will not talk to me. I grow tired of chasing him 'round and 'round trying to ask for what I deserve for my hospitality, and then finding him other times in my bed, beseeching me with those eyes of his."
"His kind are not known for their mastry of speech."
"I have noticed. I was not informed of this at the outset." She grimaces slightly, her gaze turned inward.
"You did not ask."
She ponders this for a moment before replying "I did not. But now I ask your counsel, Lord Shaper, as he is a creature of your realm."
"I will not play messenger between you."
"That is hardly what I would ask for. Imagine, one of the Endless playing... No, no, not that at all." She pauses. "But I would ask how you think it is best I act, given the circumstances."
"You let him in on your own terms," there is a twinkle of humor now about the figure, "Perhaps you should exert your rights as both ruler of this domain and his Sponsor in it. I am quite certain he is enjoying his... vacation here."
The girl smiles softly, but the edges curl slightly into a relieved grin.
"Indeed, Lord Shaper. Your advice is most...astute."
