Private Tales Light After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Yes, but you notice them don't you," he said conspiritorially. "For everyone here they're not even visible until they don't get what they want immediately."

Gerrard thought to himself that he might not even have been able to see her point had he not been stripped of his titles. He was still more than comfortable in his life, Gerrard was perfectly aware of that. Now he wasn't someone who could throw an event like this. Sometimes he even spoke to the staff as if they were people.

He led them through the back doors. The back of the dance floor had large wooden doors that had been thrown open the let the cool evening air in.

Hedgerows had gone out of fashion some years back. Organised blocks of colour was the current trend, broken up by a variety of trees. There were several young couples walking the gardens, followed by a small entourage several paces behind.

Gerrard chuckled. "Matches decided by their parents," he whispered of the awkward looking teenagers. "Told to take a turn in the garden to get to know one another, whilst their parents linger just inside earshot."
 
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Audreyn was noticing them everywhere now. They lacked the glitter and grace of the other guests, but possessed another more intriguing demure to their stoic nature.

She blinked, her attention being pulled back to the glitter and glam of two teenagers walking several rows ahead of them. She balked at Gerrard's words. "But they are the same age as me. They can't get married." Her voice rang out a little too loud, filled of disbelief and tension.
 
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"They can't?" he asked. "If the parents are determined they can usually have their daughter married by sixteen," he said.

"Its normally a lengthy process for the eldest children of the most powerful families. It's not like the arranged marriages in the distant west. In a very carefully controlled manner..." he waved towards the potential couples, "...they get to decide if they feel they are a good match."

He laughed and shook his head. "Meanwhile the third and fourth sons are probably back at home diddling commoners. How old do people get married in the villages?" he asked.
 
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Diddling commoners?

She let the confusing remark pass, her gaze not leaving the uncomfortable expression of the girl as it bobbed in and out of sight through the foliage.

She gave a delicate shrug. "I don't know, it really depends I guess. You gotta have a trade before you can have a wife. It took Lucia's guy until she was twenty four. Then again, Rose-... I think she was nineteen? At any rate, our parents need us on the farm.Unless you want to live with your Misses in the room next to her fathers," she glanced up, giving Gerrard a pointed look.

"Sixteen is too young. --Hey wait, what month is it?"
 
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"It's Carne by the dwarven calendar. I know the Vel Anir Council was proposing a calendar of their own based on the names of past Kings but I don't think it's taken on that well. You didn't miss your birthday did you?" he asked.

He was surprised the peasants in this part of the world took so long to move out from home. Certainly nearer Elbion they were often married off by eighteen. He didn't really know that much about their social lives and when he thought about it he realised that it was generally to firstborn of more powerful families that married earlier for political reasons.
 
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Audreyn perked, grinning widely. "Hey look at that, I'm sixteen. --Oh gods, you aren't going to marry me off now, are you?" Came the playful --yet melodramatic-- follow up, Audreyn going heavy and dragging at his arm as if she was a child throwing a fit.
 
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"Yes. Going to find you an ugly one too. Get you off my hands," he said, flashing a grin out of the corner of his mouth.

"Get you a nice third son with a good income from his estate. Nice little cottage on the family grounds for raising five children."

He turned towards a patch of land filled with three blocks of colour: Red, yellow and blue. The scent of the blooming flowers was almost overwhelming down this path.
 
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"Gerrard!" She protested, hitting at his arm as she laughed. "An ugly one? Really? Ah, well. At least he'll have money. Enough to hire a cook?" While she joked, she knew there was no way she could ever be coaxed into marriage. Not even for money. No. Something about the concept of it-- she really just didn't get it. Especially now that she realized there were other paths she could take.

And without even realizing it, Audreyn had begun to warm up to the idea of magic staying in her life.

She reached out and touched at petals as they walked, a spark of magic slipping off her fingers and making them glow like lightening bugs as she left them behind.
 
"Oh I'm sure the fat ones insist on a good cook," he laughed. His words were slightly slurred now, but Gerrard had many years of practise holding his drink.

"You're getting used to magic being normal," he said. He had very nearly told her that burning down one of his rose bushes would likely lead to them being evicted from the city. However, he knew that sometimes warning someone of a danger led to someone focusing on it until they made it happen. Audreyn was perhaps a slightly better magician with just a glass of wine in her.

"You know we'll get called back to eat even more soon?" he chuckled. "And this time we'll have to make conversation."
 
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Audreyn blushed in embarrassment, pulling her hand back and stopping her mindless play. It was just lights, right? She reasoned with herself.

Harmless.

Unlike-... she cleared her throat, pausing and looking behind her. "As long as its not you trying to sell me off..." Came an almost distant reply.

She gave a slow blink, pulling her gaze from the warm-lit windows and back to him. "Shall we then?"

Shall. Ever so fancy all of a sudden.
 
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"I'm not here to marry you off Audreyn," he chuckled. He wasn't certain that it needed to be said, but there had been a little concern in her glance back at the young potential couples. They turned back towards the hall. It was quite pleasant from this side. The squat stone structure had very particularly placed ivy growing up the western Wall.

"I'm here to enjoy some food and wine. And also because Baron Ostland invited me and it would seem rude not to..."

"Gerrard!" came a bellowing cry.

"Oh there he is," Gerrard said quietly with disdain. The fat Baron had a chicken leg in each hand, one of which was now being waved in his direction. He already had gravy in his beard.

"Come! Sit!"
 
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"Like you care about rude," she snorted.

She had to admit, the walk had done wonders for helping her insides shift. The overwhelming fullness had passed, leaving her comfortably full. Perhaps she could have another bite or two.

Nothing more, she swore, following the sullen Gerrard towards their caller.

They entered into the warm light of the hall, its lavish insides buzzing with life. "Wow," Audreyn commented, a bit taken aback by the sight of candle light glimmering off the encrusted clothing around them. She had it in her to do a half hearted curtsy at the baron, barely even noticing him and his girthe as she peered around him.
 
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Ostland was perhaps one of the few that didn't even notice the formalities around him. Gerrard could almost respect that aspect of him. He was unashamedly...himself.

Ostland waved his chicken leg around those seated close to himself. Gerrard and Audreyn were sat close enough to be visible as part of his entourage, but far enough away to be distinct from the nobility.

"Please meet the honourable Charles Mary Fellington," the Baron said to the young married couple next to him. Not being eldest children, Gerrard knew they both got away with a reputation for fearsome drinking. Most in Ostland's company did.

"My bastards Peter and Hyrryl," he added, pointing at the two young men opposite him. They were not exclusively his bastards. Pa had plenty of them. Most of the boys ended up becoming drinking partners.

"This is the young Lord..."

"Gerath Harly," replied a slender man in almost impeccable dress. Didn't seem Ostland's type to Gerrard.

"Yeah, joined me hunting before you came to town Gerrard. Best lad with a spear I've had in my party in years. Wasn't I saying that Yerath?"

Gerath formed a thin smile and nodded politely to Gerrard and Audreyn.

"And everyone this is Gerrard Duvont, an exceptional mage and formally Earl at the Elbion courts before they exiled him for some trivial accident."

Gerrard grimaced briefly. "And this is Audreyn, my new apprentice," Gerrard introduce.

He then winced as Pa called out: "Service! Wine for my table!"
 
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Audreyn was greatful her introduction was glossed over by the request for more wine. A slight grimace had grown on her features as the party around them was introduced. Lady this, Earl that.

A slight heat of embarrassment was tingling her cheeks, and she didn’t know why.

She recognized most at the table though, if just because she had observed them coming in earlier in the hour. A twill entered her stomach as she noticed the particularly pretty boy from earlier was sitting just a few seats away from where she was placed. She smoothed down her dress, peering at him through her lashes as the servers bustled out with trays carrying what could only be described as the first course.

“Gerard,” she whispered, nudging him with her elbow. “Who’s that?”
 
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"I don't know," Gerrard replied quietly. "I believe the Haly family have lands to the west of the city. Quite a wealthy family, but also quite large if I recall correctly."

Gerrard might have noticed the keen interest Gerath was taking in Audreyn, but his train of thought was obliterated by Oatland.

"Gerrard, did I tell you about the one with two nuns and a halfling?"

"Yes and..."

"So there are two nuns and a halfling..."

Meanwhile Gerath offered Audreyn a much warmer smile. It was there just briefly before being hidden by a wine glass.
 
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Audreyn didn’t notice the smile. The person to her right stood up and walked to chatter across the room, leaving the seat bare. After a few minutes of eyeing and blushing and even mindlessly sipping the wine before her, Audreyn found her shyness shattered as the boy engaged her in conversation. Soon Gerard would find himself suffering the bad stories alone, the boy having slid into the spare seat to make conversation easier.

As it turned out, this was also his first large dinner party in the city. Gerard had been right about the large family in the countryside side. Audreyn could be heard laughing over an antidote about a particularly flamboyant costume catching fire at a party past.

Before long, he dared to ask her to dance. Audreyn turned to Gerard, breathless with excitement. “Oh, can I?”
 
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Her nerves seemed to have gone, Gerrard noticed. Or at least they had been eclipsed by excitement. He spared the lad only a brief glance of suspicion. Some of those spoiled Lords did like to 'meddle' as he had said earlier with common girls.

The truth was he seemed fairly quiet and unassuming. Not the kind of brash third son who built a reputation for that kind of thing.

"Of course you can," he replied. "Enjoy yourself."

Gerrard meant it as well. After everything Audreyn had been through she deserved a little fun. She blamed herself but none of her misfortunes were her own fault.
 
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Fun was an understatement. A blast, a ball— heh, so that’s where that word came from.

It was a ball. Well. The time she had. Not the event. Right? Wait... right? The night slipped back in all the ways Gerard predicted it would. Men got drunk. Audreyn showed off her magic, fetching admiration and attention that in more than one way went right over her head. Wine was had, stomachs were full, and dancing— dancing wasn’t as scary as she had anticipated.

By the time the hour had grown late, Audreyn was knee deep in wine and flushed red from it. She flopped onto Gerrard’s knee, breathless and smiling as she used him as a seat.

“Is really just like home,” she remarked, grinning as she watched a passioned exchange before them.

“Well- better food,” she practically slurred, reaching out and taking a tart from his plate. She took a bite, then held it up to his mouth.

“Mwantsmome?”
 
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Gerrard had actually managed to enjoy himself a little. He'd managed to eek a bottle of something special out of one of the servants and then kept it hidden from Ostland.

He had even dared grace the dance floor for a little while. Enough that his blood had been flowing and his head a little giddy. That had come to an end with a sharp retreat. Earl Pheal's wife was a tall, elegant middle aged woman. She was known to enjoy the company of several men when he husband was away for work during the week. On the third time she went looking for him for a dance he had slipped away.

"Oh I have eaten far too much," Gerrard said with a shake of his head. He had not drunk enough yet apparently.

"People are people!" Gerrard reflect. "Well, if you hadn't noticed that yet you've drunk too much to notice the..." he rolled his free hand and then pointed towards a young couple in the corner of the room. "...ambiance."
 
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Audreyn hiccuped, straining to turn and... blush. Heavily. She rubbed at her cheeks, making a face of childish disgust back at Gerard.

“‘m not drunk. Maybe they are but-“ she held out her hand and called up a very chaotic ball of colorful magic. She grinned at him. “No boom.”

She popped the rest of her stolen treat in her mouth, no longer tasting any thing. “Imadeafriend. Can you make sure he can- ummm.” She swallowed it all, her mouth dry. “Find me. After. S’loooooooot of people here. How do you find each other, slot?”
 
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Gerrard laughed. It wasn't a cruel laugh at her expense, but a genuine bit of mirth from a man prone to taking himself seriously.

"Makes me a bad teacher, but being drunk you probably stopped worrying about the magic. Not gonna work for lessons though because I can't understand half of what you're saying.

"Can I make sure that someone can find you? Was that it?"
 
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“Mhm, yup,” she confirmed, attention already stolen by the fan fair of a change in dance and song. She hicced, subdued on his lap as she watched with no small amazement.

“Oh I got me another dress,” she told him off handedly, eyes not leaving the commotion. It was beautiful. Enticing. The shifting mirage of light and colors made her insides sing, she just wanted to be apart of it all again.

“Les dance,” she declared, grabbing at him and tugging him in with all the abrupt chaos of an over stimulated puppy.
 
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Gerrard had been about to confirm that he would send anyone who arrived looking for Audreyn after her. He hadn't expected being tugged back to his feet, though he should have done.

"Alright, alright, we'll dance!" he protested, hoping that she would then at least allow him to get back up to his feet and after her at his own pace. He couldn't keep dancing without feeling tired as he had been able to at her age.

They approached the wide open floor. The doors had been flung open to keep the dancers cool. There was a gathering around the floor that they would have to work through. Ideally they would join as the music changed.

"Wait, whaddya mean another dress?" he asked before politely asking someone to let them through. "An where'd that polite lad go?"
 
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Audreyn was blithe to his questions, caring nothing but to push past the people and twirl to the music thrumming through her. It was far grander and more complex than anything at home. Everything here was.

She felt strangely free out on this dance floor. As if the death of her parents had each cut ties holding her down, and being landless left her like wise careless. What was there to care about out here? That these people would look down on her for her looseness? Her whole village rejected her- this rich twits held nothing to that.

Besides she was no the only one well past her drink as she gave Gerrard an enthusiastic yank halfway through the dance. If there was ever a time to notice he was in over his head, it was now. She showed no signs of slowing down. Only vomiting, her skin growing clammy as the music broke into a lull to grant a small break.

“And you said you cant dance,” she accused, breathless.
 
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Gerrard tried to laugh but it came out as more of a wheeze. He doubled over briefly, resting his hands on the fashionable leggings that did not leave much to the imagination.

He was genuinely smiling. It turned out that he could enjoy himself as well as dance a few steps.

"Wine and age are against me though," he laughed. He stood tall, placing his hands up on his hips to try and breathe. As the crowd slowed and spread out some cool air worked its way through them, carrying the sweet scent of the rose garden.

It was last the time of complicated, delicate dance. That was for the sober adoslecents to step together under the watchful gaze of relatives. If the band started up a slow tune now it was tradition for everyone on tables to bash them with their palms and complain until the band picked up the pace.

The band, quite deliberately, did that now. The raucous sound started at the tables and Gerrard joined in with a 'boo'.

"Are you going to be sick if you don't sit for a bit?" Gerrard chuckled.
 
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