#frederick brackner

[courtera]

"Luce…I chose us."

[fycourtera]

{libation: chapter one/7} damocles, frederick, lucy

Frederick: *smiling softly against her lips the moment before she pulls back, he nods, albeit reluctantly, at her question. Frederick was both upset and relieved she could not go inside. No matter how much he told himself that Lucy could handle any of what these people might say, it still didn't sink in to him completely; he just wanted to protect her. Besides, Cyrus was in there somewhere, so where his uncle and aunts and siblings and cousins...he felt bad for saying it but he sincerely hoped he didn't run into them. He was there for one reason and one reason only. Lifting her hands, he kissed each once, rubbing his thumbs in circles.* I won't be long.

Damocles: *He just nods, standing straighter until Cyrus left. Rubbing his forehead and looking determinedly anywhere but the window, he reached to take Cyrus' tea cup back to the cart.*

Lucy: *At least she had been there when they had entered the grounds, passed the security procedures to let him in. The way they had looked at him irked her, but they hadn't said anything. Now she realized guards were the easy part: if he saw any member of his family....she squeezed his hands tighter. Softened by his sweet kisses she nods,* You will convince him. I'm sure of it. And then we can celebrate, honey. *Kissing his cheek, she whispered,* I love you. *Then she let him go.*

Frederick: *He nodded, lightened by her words and holding on to them tightly, as tightly as if he were to hold on to her.* I love you too. *Then it was time for the ascend. Court could be so damn predictable, that he almost laughed. Some things didn't change. He had been good at ignoring everyone in here already, it was simply a skill he had to tap into again and without difficulty. Whispers traveled faster than light, in his opinion. The more he walked, the more people he seemed to stumble upon, but so far none of his family. Good. He clutched the folder to him a little tighter as he greeted Nathaniel, and asked him if per chance Damocles was busy. Frederick knew that usually these things were brought to the entire council on a specifically designated day but honestly, Rick didn't care. Damocles' servant seemed even more flabbergasted than usual, mentioned something about "good timing" under his breath and "too close" before he excused himself to go into the study and announce him. Odd man.*

Damocles: *Surprised as he heard Nathaniel ask to enter once more, he looked up and tilted his head. Utter shock crossed his expression but - oh, of course. That explained why Lucy was waiting (all right, he may have looked outside once or twice). Nodding to usher him in, he stood again (finishing his tea quickly).* Morning, Frederick. *Certain his surprise was still on his face, he pondered a moment telling him to go after his father - but that was him being a meddling arrogant ass, so he let it drop. Instead he said simply,* It's truly good to see you.

Frederick: *He walked in when he was allowed in, odd word to use but it was the correct one after all, and was actually pleased to see the surprise on Damocles' face. Good. Shock and awe could be a good combination.* Good morning, my lord. *The sincerity of his next words now left -Rick- a little surprised so he smiled and nodded.* Thank you. In that case, I already have something in my favor. *his lips flicked briefly before he motioned to his folder* I have a business proposal that I think you would be interested in. Do you have some time to spare? 

Damocles: *Part of what was truly so shocking, was seeing the natural ease with which Frederick spoke. He always had been confidant - always smirking with some smart-ass comment or another, but now Damocles was stunned. The difference between father and son never so palpable as now (he could not help but compare); even the respectful title dropped the same way seemed to sound different.* Oh? *He found himself smiling honestly now too. For while his clothes clearly looked well-cared for, they also were worn...and yet Frederick looked damn better together than his father had. Aching in his chest at the thought -goddamn Brackner stubbornness- he nodded, gesturing Rick could sit with him to show the proposal.* Well, spare no, but listen yes. *His lips split in a wry smirk.* What do you have in mind?

Frederick: *he sits when it was offered and it was most probably for the best; he tended to pace when he was anxious or nervous.* In one word: growth. Here's another: opportunity. Security. Prosperity. *Oh yes, he could really lay it on thick when he needed to. He pulled out a piece of paper and laid it in front of Damocles on the table. On it was a charter request, written by him (his education paid off after all,) and at the top the name "The People's Bank of Faye".* In my time living in town, I've realized how many things I had taken for granted. They, and now I mostly, live day to day. They have no place to store their savings, where those savings could accumulate interest, no place to ask for a loan except for the Lords up here specifically and the majority are not as generous or understanding creditors as you are. 

Damocles: *Rather amused at first when he realized he legitimately was being pitched to, the lofty words that made him smirk quickly fell into words that made him listen. Genuinely, as this was meant to be something Octavius oversaw for him and knew his wife did more than either. Mitchell's words about starving them with the taxes rang in his ear and for a moment, he was grateful to hear Frederick say he was the most generous whether of not it was true. Perusing the top of the document slowly with a critical frown but eagerness to learn in his gaze, he nodded once. The thought of a bank had crossed his mind before - every single time Leanne had visited truthfully while her husband looked on fondly - but while his wife cultivated the school, he had never been able to find the right people or time to open such a bank. His goals had been split between raising his children with principles, endeavoring to strengthen the security against darker foes since Marcus had fled, learning with George and Adelina as much as they could how dark magic worked - medicine,as he aided her healing research. and of course, what had consumed his life - the "spare" time - passing the proclamation. 

Reaching the end of the top parchment, he looked up to Frederick. Honestly for a moment he wished he could appoint another Brackner to the council position - but Cyrus had made that impossible. Furrowing his brows and realizing he was interested in setting this bank up already - that wasn't all. But first things first.* I am impressed. Frederick, I have long thought such would be a good idea - the issues have come in how you would set it up. What building in town? How many would you hire - what governs the investments you are allowed to make? *His lips flick thinking ruefully; the council? His nose wrinkles.* If the council does, then I would think you and everyone else would be at risk to lose life savings to them. But if you are willing to work with me personally...then I think the first step would be speaking to my wife and Esther Hall as well, so we might offer a seminar to teach how to invest in their own profits.

*He'd need one. Oh, military strategy he understood - and he was a fair hand at political maneuvering and affairs with foreign counties or even nations. But show him his finances and his mind spun past simple facts: he just did not have his wife's brain.*

Frederick: *He was immediately interested, Rick could see. It was not surprising that Damocles had thought of this before, or that some of his councillors, advisors (or wife) had brought up the issue. But before all of that, it was strictly speculation. Now Frederick brought plans, detailed ones. He had written rough drafts on pieces of napkins while he worked at the tavern, stayed up late passing them over, consulted with Lucy and Thomas and Esther (sometimes on a particular word, sometimes asking if the sentence was clear enough, that sort of thing.) He took another parchment out and smirked* You'll notice I came to you alone and not them, my lord. I already have approached Esther and Arleen as well and they'd both be delighted to help. *He passed another document* That's the floor plan of the building I'd plan to use: it's been abandoned, needs some restoration but the internal structure I could restore magically without any need for funds. I believe I was told it may or may not have been used as a safe house for goods a couple of decades ago for smugglers.

*Honestly, the way Esther smirked when she told him, he figured it had to be some sort of Stone thing.* The hidden room would be the perfect place for the vaults, and the safety deposit boxes. Again, I could handle the security with spells to keep out burglars, both magical and muggle. It would be a small operation to start with- I'd act as bookkeeper and record all the transactions, and owner. Ian Lally has expressed interest and Esther has assured me he possesses great skill, he would be one teller, Mia Stone -*truthfully, she had overhead he and Esther talking one day and wriggled her way into the conversation, but she proved her worth* as well. They'd handle the money- receiving it and distributing it. I'd also appoint another administrative position, to oversee the running, keep the gears turning if you will, someone with a natural flare for authority. I have several in mind, but I've not yet approached anyone.

*Thomas had suggested Merida, because no one would dare go against Merida, and she'd have those potential burglars running out of there faster than...well, Rick forgot. But he was sure it was a very witty simile.* Obviously I'd need start up money, but the bank would be able to after a certain time repay your investment through our retained earnings from interest revenue, and it would grant you, or someone you appoint, I suppose The Councillor of the Treasury *-God help them-* access to audit our books, for that is well within your right as an investor. *He paused and then licked his lips, before adding more genuinely, personally*

I realized that I'll never make the money I need to save up for my own place working at the tavern. And then I realized if that was true to me, it was true for many. The process is going to be long, they people in town will get frustrated because they won't see the pay off quick enough, but it -will- happen. Your people will be happier, better off. The town will grow, more business will grow, the quality of life will improve, more children will be educated. The gap between the nobles and the townspeople will get smaller, and muggleborns as well. If they grow to have money and if they grow to have a better education the same way we...*he corrected himself* you, people here at court do, it will become more apparent, easier to see, that we're all the same. Purebloods and muggleborns and everything in between. So you see, it's not just the town's growth and prosperity and security and opportunity I was referring to, it's the court's as well. *he paused for a moment and then added in jokingly* The future of the magi cal race could very well be decided by your accepting or declining my offer here, Damocles- my lord. *He was that important, after all.*

Damocles: *A smuggler's hide-out? Why did that remind him of Rowland? Rowland had told...who was he talking to?...that his sister had been a smuggler before marriage. Damocles blinked, not liking that he didn't know why he knew that and moved on. Continuing to go through the documents as he spoke, to add visuals and follow along the floor plan, his ears may well have swiveled in his eagerness to understand the finer points. At least Claudius, for all his long-winded ancient answers and weird reading spectacles had the least inclination of the council towards self-interest; the man loved his numbers too much to abide such inaccuracies. He could always ask George to read them as well -- he might grant most of the Stuart business to Leanne, but he handled daily affairs on his own.

All such minute thoughts of set-up fled as Frederick again turned to personal experience. Damocles held his gaze without a flicker of his sudden immense emotion on his face, nod bare. Mitchell had reminded him they were not children anymore. Frederick's clear preparation was only outmatched by his emotional attachment, his deeper understanding of how this might help everyone and not merely himself. Dear Lord, when had he gotten so old? He was recognizing: these were the advisors he needed, Frederick and Mitchell, Leah and Malcolm - these children who were no longer children, they were the ones fighting. And in that instant Damocles realized they were the reason he had hope. It was an old war they fought, their parents and grandparents war  -- but the children, the ones who Vlad would lead and work with -- they were much smarter than him. They would do a damn fine job, he thought proudly. Nodding now, through a wry smirk he said first,*

Well, you certainly know how to stroke my ego. *More sincerely.* And what I care about. *And he did. Rick had gotten it: proved to Damocles that he saw the larger picture by having lived it--that he understood what he honestly was trying to change had nothing to do with lowering nobility. It was about better lives for all.* Very well, Frederick - I will go through the proposal--*with his sisters, wife and George...he thought for a moment, how Evelyn would inform Garrett, who would tell Cyrus before thinking he couldn't worry about that, it was not his concern. Frederick might have been denied his title by his father - but he had not been banished by him.* -- and define the funding. In the meantime, you have permission to both start the spells for security that require no funding and approach your regulator in mind and inform everyone we will go ahead. I'll have official contracts drawn to those -*he gestured the plans*-and our additions of financial specifics and we can meet to sign and break ground. I'll trust you to head the project once we have, and appoint myself until it opens to audit. *He pauses, and then says more simply,* However Frederick...I need your help as well.

*What he truly wanted to say - that it was he who granted titles, as he had to Garrett, regardless of Cyrus - he swallowed back only as he did not mean yet to take that step. His eyes suddenly blazing with determination, he doesn't blink as he holdshis gaze.* What you said - what you've shown with these documents... is more than a bank, that you understand now why this fight is important. I have been blinded by the court - however honorable my intentions, I know that to some, if not many, appears I am out of touch with what real people need right now. That the proclamation was an empty gesture or an olive branch I now will point at and say it was all I needed to do, that I am yet above them, that I do not care. *He exhales.*

That is not true. I care. I sympathize. But I do not have the means to empathize that you now do. These are the things that I need to hear, that I want to hear. *His lips flick in a dry smirk.* I'm not asking you to go try and change people's minds about me -- they can say what they will, my ego will recover, I'm sure. But I would like to talk to you. I would like to understand their struggles that are now yours too - I would like your advice more often. *He exhales, eyes watering as he suddenly realizes he still has yet to blink and finally does so.* I cannot make you acouncillor- you know that, but I've had personal advisors before in regards to the town. *One. He pushed it from his mind, mentally convincing himself he meant Adelina and those Maeve and Abira worked with.* And I can pay you for that as well as the funding for the bank. Not much but--*he shrugged a shoulder*--I would not ask you to do so for free.

Frederick: *He only restrained a laugh of triumph by diverting it towards a combination of an expression between a smirk and a grin. He nodded, the bubble of apprehension in his chest deflating to know he had succeeded.* Yes, sir. Thank you, Damocles- *He had completely forgotten the honorific in his withheld excitement, nodding through all the instructions, having expected them or at least similar variants of what he was hearing. He pauses mid nod as Damocles adds something else. A year ago he would not have expected to be sitting here, discussing muggleborns rights with Damocles, much less being for them. He had grown. He had changed - thank God, for the better. Instantly hearing an odd combination of voices Etta, Jane, Leah, and Karyn that said quite loudly "he couldn't have gotten any worse." He didn't regret any of it though, none at all, despite all those weeks feeling like an empty vessel and all those mornings of choking back his own vomit and so many years of hating himself...he was for the better now, even if he was dirt poor. He supposed it was so noticeable that Damocles could easily see it, see the difference and no trusted him enough to want his opinion. Frederick sat back slowly, stunned. He pursed his lips together as he considered it. The extra money could very well be worth it (and he had a feeling Damocles' version of "not much" differed from what Rick's was right now).* How often would I need to come to court and report to you?

Damocles: *Waiting patiently while it processed for him he furrowed his brows slowly at the question. His pleasant expression unmoved, an icy jolt through his veins anyway; he thought to himself ideally he would have had Frederick report to the entire council at the weekly meetings. Yet he had just appointed his father there and while he wanted to proceed professionally, he knew he could not govern as if he did not know what situations would cause conflict. As if he didn't know his people. Was that not the whole point?* I could meet with you in town once a week, Frederick, in the capacity of working on this bank. *Simply, but fairly,* If you continue coming to court then people will ask why - and while I surely do not mind who you tell, if you tell the town they might start treating you differently...want you to quote-unquote "report well of them" or the like, and that helps neither of us. Does that sound fair?

Frederick: *He could not deny that he was immensely relieved that he wouldn't have to return on a regular basis. That would have been near intolerable and the more he was back here, the more chances he had of running into his family. And Damocles had a point, if he came here too often well, all that trust that he earned in town could have easily gone away. He nodded.* Very fair. *he smiles earnestly, still in much disbelief this had gone so well* Thank you, my lord.

Damocles: *As he honestly smiles, Damocles mirrors with his own. See? Bloody hell, why did people think him so impossible to work with? When in agreement with him - was he not rather generous?* I'm glad you approached me. *A little more seriously.* Is Lucy well? *He honestly asked more because he wanted to show he respected them together - but he also added anyways,* You can see her waiting outside from here, you know.

Frederick: *He neglected to mention that he might not even have thought about the bank seriously without Mitchell Stone's input because quite frankly, Frederick would rather believe that wasn't true. It would have happened either way. The topic of Lucy always brightened his face and he nodded, lips flicking in amusement after taking a glance at the window, though as he was sitting he really couldn't see much.* She's doing good. Anxious to hear the news I expect.

Damocles: *He chuckles at the addition, nodding absently as he looks back to the parchments in front of him. Shuffling them as he puts them in order, he says lightly,* I am glad she's well. *His eyes flick up to look at him, adding simply,* Then you should hasten to her at once I expect though - I should add I believe Jane would love to see you too. *His one eyebrow cocks saying drily,* Or else we'll all hear it for ages. 

Frederick: Respectfully sir, I don't plan on lingering around the court any longer than I have to. *And he was definitely anxious to return to Lucy's side now that Damocles had approved the project.* So unless she happens to be standing right outside the door *he shrugs* she knows where to find me.

Damocles: *Just nodding once, his smile does not flicker or falter, but a sadness crosses his eyes as he understands the bo--man, truthfully.* I understand. Thank you for your proposal - and for accepting. I will owl you with the details of the latter later tonight? *He stood, extending his hand to shake.*

Lucy: *Fidgeting with her bracelet as she spins it around and around her wrist her eyes scan the grounds anxiously. Well, rather, she did not what to see one Lordling in particular. Counting windows to pass the time - and ducking the gaze of some young ladies hurrying by she didn't know - she frowned and thought speak-of-the-devil, spying Matthew talking with some other bastard friend of his. Wrinkling her nose and straightening to glower at him, the man smirks - but she turns and walks the other way, nearly running in to someone. When she saw it was Rick, she promptly did. Arms still around him tightly, her words breathless,* Well? How did it go? *Keep eyes onme, she thought hastily.*

Frederick: *Nodding, he stood, feeling oddly lighter than when he first walked into the room.* I look forward to working with you, sir. *He shook his hand firmly and then left the room, a part of him was almost expecting Jane to be waiting outside the door despite his initial statement being partially a joke. Ignoring the whispers and the pointing was even easier now, and he walked down the hallways quickly. Stepping out onto the grounds, he smiled to see Lucy and walked towards her but she didn't seem to be noticing him. Frowning slightly in confusion, it was nevertheless cleared as she finally noticed him and all but barreled into him with a hug. Smiling again, he hugged her back tightly and then exhaled, eyes dropping to the ground in feigned disappointment for a few seconds before he looked up at her and grinned.* He's accepted the proposal.

Lucy: *As he dropped her gaze she winced instantly - preparing remarks, trying to think how to make him feel better, when he looks back up grinning. Gasping out and whacking his shoulder she shakes her head wide-eyed,* Oh you--Rick. *She leans in and kisses him - a loud smack against his lips.* Of course he did. I never had any doubt. *Lie: but it was Damocles she doubted, not Rick.* When do you start...? 

Frederick: *He laughed as she hit him, kissing her back and putting an arm around her again and then heading towards the entrance, now more accurately an exit for them.* Immediately. He said I could start clearing out the building and installing security spells that require no money, and then he'll have some contacts drawn up. *That he would scour through diligently.* He also offered me a position, as an advisor. He'll meet me in town weekly under the pretense of working on the bank...I said I'd help him with that too. He'd basically be paying me to share my opinions.

 Lucy: *looking over his shoulder as he spun with her, she scowled a moment as she saw Matthew still looking at them and quickened their pace, eyes falling back to his and beaming. She didn't notice her voice go up in octave as she answered,* Frederick, that's wonderful! And...ridiculous, only you would manage to find that job when you weren't even looking. *Eyes forward.* So...you'll have two jobs - giving your opinion, starting the bank...*And faster steps, her free hand lifting to fix and toy with his tie,* this sounds like an occasion for celebration.

Frederick: Well, I do possess a certain skill of overachieving, you know. *He supposed he wasn't surprised that Lucy was also trying to move them as fast as possible out of there, he would want to be gone too. So he focused instead on what they could do once they get out of here. Smirking, he raised his eyebrows and asked seemingly innocently* What did you have in mind?

Lucy: Skill? I thought it was a curse. *It was a light tease. Truthfully, she was a bit startled - and overjoyed - to see Rick so prideful. Genuine confidence and pleasure at having successfully achieved something he worked hard on - believed in. The fact that it was something he meant to build in the town, her town -- no, their, town --was icing on the cake. He was building something for all of them. Sliding under his arm around her and laying her head against his shoulder as they exit (oh Lord was she relieved Rick had not seen Matthew), she hmmed through the response,* Dessert first, I think. *She wiggled so his hand ocer her shoulder fell to her chest.* Two cream puddings.

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Frederick: What’s your name? *annoyed* Mitchell: I’m a peasant. *shrugs* I don’t have a name. Frederick: Oh. *nodding, apparently willing to think that peasants aren’t important enough to have names*

Secret Affairs

[fycourtera]

{libation: chapter one/5} damocles, cyrus/rick & lucy

Damocles: Yes, please show him in. *He was standing at the window of his study, one hand on a cup of tea and the other wrapped gently around the rim of his chair arm.Hearing Nathanial move towards the door once more he took a steadying swig of tea. Of his relatives, Cyrus was the one he had the strange feeling he respected both the most and least at once -- but he did trust him, and he trusted few now. Smiling briefly as he entered he nodded to dismiss Nathanial and said simply,* Good morning. Do you want a cup of tea? *he gestured to the pot still steaming on the cart. He was startled to realize that he had never seen such an impeccably well-dressed and proper man look so worn in his life - but this was not about that. Damocles knew that in the court there were precious few who he could rely on and honestly - whatever his disapproval of Cyrus' actions with his family lately, did not sum the man up anymore than a singular good action did. He respected the man for nearly every other aspect of his life.* Thank you for coming, Cyrus. I appreciate it. 

Cyrus: *He didn't trouble himself with trying to guess what exactly Damocles had summoned him for. Thinking, he found, was something that grew progressively more difficult to accomplish for all his thoughts seemed to want to quickly veer to one subject. Cyrus, however, would not allow himself to appear as distraught as he felt. His suit was tailored perfectly, his shoes polished- every single detail of his appearance was remarkably and thoroughly clean as it always had been. He carried himself proudly as he walked inside Damocles' study. Smiles never came easy for Cyrus, now that was more true than ever, but a pleasant expression he achieved easily.* Yes, thank you. *He had no interest in tea, but it was proper etiquette and Cyrus was a man of propriety, especially now...now it was all he had left.* Of course. *As if he would refute a direct invitation from his reigning Lord.* What can I do for you, my lord?

Damocles: Excellent. *As he poured the tea himself, he did so as much because he could pour his own blasted tea as he did intentionally with the purpose of offering both a gesture of friendship and respect. Lifting it to offer to him, his lips flicked up easily a moment at the title -- he had learned long ago it was more an insult to Cyrus to try and tell him to call him by his Christian name and now, well, he kind of appreciated the courtesy.* If I may be frank, *he nodded - yes he could be -* Cyrus, I trust you and there are few I do at this present moment. *He looked at him steadily through a sip, a gasp, and another thin smile.* As such, I would appoint you to be my defensive councilor. If you would accept. Truth be told you were always my first choice - circumstances simply did not allow me to ask until now. I know it is asking a lot... *By that, he thought to himself that he meant there was the possibility of seeing Frederick in town, but he said nothing of that.*

Cyrus: *He took the offered cup with a soft nod before taking a sip. The tea wasn't scalding hot but it did manage to burn his tongue a little. He had never learned not to, but he had long ago to not show it. The very same thing could be said for every aspect of his life, really. Nodding, knowing that even if he didn't Damocles would speak as he wished, as it was his right to do. He was surprised to hear the honesty of the statement, a bit more than surprised. Cyrus didn't know what exactly he had done to gain Damocles' trust. The next words were even more surprising, and his cup paused in mid air en route to his lips. After a few brief moments, he collected himself, lowering the cup.* My lord, I'm...I'm honored *But hesitant. Councilor of Defense, the position had a lot of responsibility, especially now at this time. He had no training for such a position, and he doubted the Sheriff (in nothing but name anymore) would be of much help. He almost voiced his concerns out loud, almost, but Damocles had already revealed to have little trust in anyone else, and he would not act rashly to appoint him if he didn't think Cyrus was right for the job. The problem was of course, he would need to be in town. But that was his problem, not Damocles, and one brought on by himself so he would handle the consequences. This would be more, was, more important than his personal feelings* I would be honored to accept it my lord, but if I may be so bold as to ask...why do you trust me? *Why do you trust me when no one else does anymore, was the unspoken question, one he disdained to admit even to himself.*

Damocles: *Waiting patiently, his expression cleared visibly but for only a moment - it was all he could allow of himself to show. Momentarily sick at the thought that he knew Cyrus would understand, he cleared his throat by taking another sip of his own fine china.* I'm not trying to honor you. *There was a bitter little chuckle, as he shrugged.* I'm trying to get you to help me. *Sticking one hand in his pocket, a brow arched high as he continued. This time he couldn't help his surprise, nor his twinge of sorrow. Of course he trusted him, he thought, how many times did the man have to prove he put duty above everything? But he didn't want to say that - it seemed unkind, phrased that way. Slowly,* You have never broken your word to me. I asked you for your help in a situation that disagreed with both of us almost twenty years ago and you have stayed true to every facet. This post requires strict adherence to the proper chain of command which, you haven't ever disrespected. And because Cyrus...I've known you over twenty years, and not once have I seen you do anything to undermine or humiliate me even when we disagree, and however it seems, I've always liked you a little more than I think you knew.

Cyrus: Nevertheless, it is how I feel. *An honor, yes, and another duty. A small part of him told himself that he was well within his right to refuse the post, but Cyrus could not, and would not, do it. Quickly, he realized what Damocles meant by his answer: Cyrus was good at following orders. He couldn't help a small smirk at that, though there was no amusement in it, or if there was only the one that came from his own version of irony. He nodded briefly, taking another sip of the tea before looking back again at Damocles.* I will do everything in my power to help you, my lord. *He was about to add "I will not let you down" before he realized in similar ironic amusement, that was a promise he couldn't make anymore.* When would you have me begin?

Damocles: Thank you, Cyrus. *He chuckled once, saying lightly,* So nothing on whether or not you like me beyond that title then? *But how used to that was he? His small grateful smile flicked wider before he said simply,* Two weeks. I wish to appoint you publicly, and I know how much your daughter's wedding means first: so the day following. *He breathed out, undeniably pleased that Cyrus had accepted and takes another sip, his back to the window.*

Lucy: Rick! *Outside on the grounds, she chuckled through her admonishment, unable to keep herself from smiling. His arm was still around hers. They were approaching the actual building now - something that Lucy desperately wished she could further accompany him within, but refused to focus on now. Squeezing his shoulder back, her lips momentarily mashed to his shoulder in retaliation, she nonetheless is grinning wide as she mutters,* What if someone had heard you say that? Would you be quote-unquote defending my virtue even though it was you who brought it up?

Cyrus: *Chuckling in more surprise than amusement as Damocles spoke lightly in a small tease, he realized then how difficult laughter had become as well.* Are you searching for a compliment my lord? *Smirking, no matter how restrained it might have been, was by far much easier. Nodding, grateful for the timing, his expression nevertheless lightened however briefly at the mention of Marietta. His eldest daughter, her wedding mere days away...he could scarcely believe it. As he nodded, his gaze was then caught to a couple he saw outside the window, his entire body rigid.*

Frederick: *a small smirk grazed his lips the moment Lucy admonished him, or rather tried to. It gave away then to a quick grin, focusing on her for he would need a miracle to walk through those halls and not kill someone for one wrong word said in a whisper. He had on the clothes that he had left court in, though they were nowhere near as orderly now, which...he had to admit, rather preferred. He didn't want to make it seem like he was coming back, though undeniably there would always be rumors. He had a folder of everything he prepared for the proposal and he was confident...a little nervous, but confident. He was him, after all.* Then I hope they'd have the good sense to feign being deaf. *he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her before leaning in to kiss her once, pausing his steps.* Alright *he pulled on his tie, straightening out and winked at Lucy* How do I look?

Cyrus: *The difference between the Frederick than had spat on his face and left the manor with the one that was approaching it now was so great that for a split second he hadn't been sure if it was really him. Expecting to find anger or rancor, he was astoundingly surprised at the absent of them. He was transported back almost twenty years ago when Florence had come to his study to speak in Garrett's defense. "When was the last time you saw him this happy" had been her question regarding their brother. Now he was faced with a similar dawning comprehension; he didn't think he had seen Frederick that happy in his entire 23 years. Clearing his throat, he turned to Damocles again, placing the cup of tea on the table* If that is all, my lord, I have some matters to attend to today.

Damocles: If I am, could you blame me? My ego has taken a few hits lately. *Startled how easily the words left his small smile, he shrugged. About to say something else, he paused seeing the man go rigid. It was true that he'd rarely seen him smile, but the look on his face suddenly - had he seen the man look heartbroken for a flash?*

Lucy: Entirely too perfect. *She responded at once with her own lopsided grin, one arm still around his waist. She knew very well why she did not want to let him go. They were now mere feet from a building that represented too much: tradition, pride, grandeur, loss, his family. Reaching up to straighten his collar around the tie - she had done her best to help him clean these clothes twice - there was a small grin on her lips.* Almost. *She straightened it, then leaned in to kiss him herself. The moment their lips met she easily forgot where they were.*

Damocles: *A single glance out the window had explained things, and his face clouded with conflicted emotions. Tempted an instant to order Cyrus to stay here and fetch Frederick so that they would be at least forced to speak, he had softened by the time he turned back and nodded.* Of course. Thank you, Cyrus. Genuinely.

Lucy: *finally pulling back, she asked softly herself,* Are you ready? I'll wait for you...

Cyrus: Thank -you-, my lord. *In his haste to leave, Cyrus might not have bowed as he was meant to, settling for an incline of his head, though he scarcely noticed until he was out. Then he simply just...kept walking.*

[fycourtera]

{libation: chapter one/2} miah & lyric

Lucy: Wait. Okay yes - hurry, while Bertha's distracted by Angelina's ring -- now!! *Yanking his hand and twisting so her back hit the wall, rings of bottles dangerously close to tipping to the floor echoed in her ear. Her breath heavy and hard as she heard footsteps pause, she tilted away though it would be useless. Rick pressed against her. Distracting. The footsteps continued on. Breathless, she looked up at him and winked.* Now - go! Go! *An uncharacteristic smirk on her lips, Lucy's eyes were wrinkled from worry but now they crinkled in glee as she yanked again. Rick was letting her take lead, that was not an opportunity to miss. They ran through the door, jumping over the hay bale, vaulting over the fence hand in hand and darting into the woods. When they slowed, they were breathless from laughter as much as the sprint. They had no reason to sneak around anymore, but damn did they have a need to escape town. Freeing his hand, she put her own on her hip and declared matter-of-fact,* You deserved a break. And I'm neglected. Bertha works you to -death- Rick. *Her eyes sparkle at him.* Buttt I am afraid, since I -am- so aggrieved, *As if.*, that if you want -this- break...*She points to herself teasingly, dancing out of his reach, as she waggled her finger over her chest and face* You'll have to catch me first! *And she was off again, blonde hair streaming in the summer sun.*

Frederick: *Lucy could be a bit mad sometimes, but that was all the more reason he loved her. Now as they stood pressed against the wall, skiving off work and sneaking around, you could tell they were both a bit mad. Or at least somewhat childish. Rick couldn't deny that he missed the rush of sneaking around, if only that. Smirking playfully as her chest pressed against his, he didn't have time to enjoy it before they were off again. Restraining laughter was the hardest, but as they were home free and in the cover of trees, his laughter mixed with hers was the only thing he heard.* If only she worked me to death, then I wouldn't have to come back the next day. *He chuckled at his own joke and then wiggled his eyebrows as she feigned insult. As if he really preferred to work instead of to be with her. Trying to grab for her, a brief pout crossed his lips before he outright groaned and kept running.* Luceee! *He exhaled but after a grin, ran after her anyways.*

Leah: ...did you hear something? *Oh she knew she had to be killing him to stop - the little smirk on her lips would tell him that - but she sat up on her elbow all the same. The corset she had decided to wear -- "part two" (after the dagger she had made for him though the armorer had no idea) of his birthday gift, though Mitchell's birthday had been three weeks (and ten successful raids) ago -- was half undone, laces falling off her chest and tickling her arms more than the leaves did. Damn ribbon. His hand crested in her hair to tug some tiny stick out, carrassing her bare upper back - and she knew he was about to pull her down.* Shh, wait. *That time she actually had heard something. Why that would be, when they were deep in the forest and enclosed in a private grove...she couldn't guess bu-* Mitchell Stone! *Her voice cracked with the sudden rush of pleasure. Her hair whipped to glare at him.* Wait -one- moment, I swear I heard some--*

Mitchell: Nope. *He reached for her face again, though she kept annoyingly out of reach, so he sat up a little to try and coax her back to him; honestly who would be here anyways? It was completely secluded. Hand sliding up her back to her neck, he was about to pull her back, sitting up a little when she just pulled back again. Sighing, her sitting up just gave him an ample view of her breasts, so perfectly pushed up by his "birthday present". Smirking a moment, he leaned in and sucked on the milky white skin, grinning as she gasped.* There is nothing out there- 

Lucy: Oh! *Pulling up short after burst through the grove's walls - the hangings falling behind her with laughable speed considering her sudden halt.* 

Leah: Lucy! *Her eyes going wide, she yanked the top up though nothing was showing, reaching behind her for a shawl.*

Lucy: Leah! *Panting breathlessly one - two - three-,* Oh! *She swivelled to cover her eyes, cheeks blushing a dark scarlet.* I didn't see anything I swear--!

Leah: *Oh thank God Mitchell's pants were still on. She giggled once, sheepish.* It's all right--er-uh--were you looking for one of us?

Lucy: *lowers hands slowly, turning if possible, more scarlet* No, no, uh--

Leah: ..wait--

Lucy: Yes.

Leah: *flinches from a preemptive groan* God, really?

Lucy: *nods, then waves a small wave adding meekly,* Hi Mitchell.

Mitchell: *Oh, whoops. Never mind then. Pursing his lips, he sighed, not amused with the interruption.* Hi Lucy. Bye Lucy.

Frederick: *Pushing past the vines and leaves, the first person he saw was Lucy of course, his arms wrapping around her waist instinctively and then he suddenly paused, realizing who was there. He didn't need a double take, dear God, seeing it once was enough.* Oh for fuck's sake, -really-? *The initial shock was almost completely replaced by "should have seen that coming". A lot of things made sense now, and some things he really didn't want to know, at all, nothing, in the slightest.* -Him-?

Lucy: *meek* Mitch, I am so sorry-

Leah: Frederick! *Scowling, even as she holds the shawl around her tighter, besides the immediate offense at his words she gapes*

Mitchell: Me. *rolls his eyes and then points to the spot they both emerged from* Now, please. G'it.

Lucy: *Cheeks still burning bright red, as his arms close in and pull her against him - she suddenly grabs his arms tighter, holding them around her. Better that than him going for his wand, she thinks bitter - cut off from speaking aloud as three very vocal people keep interrupting her.*

Frederick: Are you honestly telling me to leave so you can shag my cousin?

Mitchell: No, *brightly* I'm telling you to leave so I can make love to your cousin.

Leah: *brightly* How about we stop talking about your cousin like she isn't sitting here?

Lucy: *wrinkles her nose, saying slowly,* Or maybe breathe--?

Frederick: *He glared and it took all the willpower he possessed not to reach for his wand (and his sword was still under his bed because he had been in the middle of work.* You really have no shame- God's sake, Leah, get off his lap already! *he rolled his eyes 

Mitchell: I quite like her on my lap.

Frederick: Shut up!

Leah: *Oh for heavens sakes--* Mitchell Matthew Stone. *Eyes rolling as she smacks his shoulder, she goes to stand...only promptly sits back down at Rick's words. She wouldn't do it because he ordered her too. Rolling her eyes, there's a flicker of fear in her heart too: Frederick had never been her first choice to find out about her and Mitchell. Looking warily at Lucy she takes a deep breath herself and nods,* Breathing sounds good. 

Lucy: *relieved to see Leah calm a bit - and still holding Rick's arms - she softens and then bites her lip looking between them steely* If you're going to yell, at least use each other's first names, all right? 

Leah: Or don't yell. *tightens shawl*

Lucy: Yes but-

Leah: *sigh* I know, realistic goals. 

Frederick: *He rolled his eyes, Merlin was Leah so difficult. Godspeed to Stone, honestly, because anyone else would have to be bonkers to put up with that amount of annoying stubbornness*

Mitchell: *Ignoring the reprimand with a smirk, it only widened as Leah firmly sat back down.* You should have asked a little nicer, mate.

Frederick: *he grits his teeth and then attempts his own false cheery tone.* Fine. I kindly ask you to put on your shirt.

Mitchell: I politely decline. *smiles*

Frederick: I don't want to breathe-

Mitchell: Then please stop! Don't let us bother you. As a good samaritan, I can even help you with your wish. I'm all about giving back, you see.

Frederick: God, you're such a tosser.

Mitchell: Are you calling God a tosser, -Frederick-? *his eyebrows arch* Lucy's mum will have your head for that. Two hundred hail Mary's next time you're at church.

Frederick: Don't you have anything better to do than to throw jibes around? *His eyes close and he groans in frustration as he sees Mitchell open his mouth to reply and Rick realizes what answers were sure to be given out, and he really didn't want to think about Leah that way ever again.* Don't say anything!

Mitchell: You asked the question! *smirks* Not my fault you don't like the answers.

Frederick: *his lips pursed in a thin line, and he had to remind himself to ease on his grip a little, his thumbs subconsciously running small circles on Lucy's waist, and he exhales.* I don't understand.

Mitchell: Really?! *he gestures to Lucy, his face shocked and aggravated* You're with Luce and you can't understand this-

Frederick: No, you pig's-cock-for-brains, that's not what I meant.

Mitchell: *he had to restrain laughter and merely reminded* Name rule!

Frederick: Isn't that what Mitchell means in Hebrew? Oh! My bad.

Mitchell: Now who's got jokes? *his lips twitch* Bertha's got to you. *He was almost a little proud of the insult. It was amateur's work, of course, but it was a lot better than "tosser" or "sot" or "bastard"*

Frederick: *he exhales and shakes his, grunting out a "never mind" under his breath.* Let's just go, Luce.

Lucy: *exchanging a look with Leah filled with exasperation and understanding, she sighs. Rick's fingers were pinching and gripping tighter, but she paid it no mind: she rather he grip her than go for a weapon. Even if a stick was all he had - and she knew bloody well he could cast wandlessly.* Mitch, my mum can order prayers just fine by herself - let's not give her ideas.

Leah: *her lips flick as she instantly thinks clearly around the some lines as them: oh yes. They had been entangled in a rather enjoyable pastime. Still as they continued...actually she had an idea she liked more.* No - wait. *Now she stood up, buttoning the blouse over the revealing corset and fixed the skirts. For a moment she looked only at her cousin, a blazing intensity in her gaze.* Rick, please don't just go - I have wanted to talk to you about this for ages. *tiny pause* Well not specifically this, because gross, -*hurriedly looks to Mitch, jerking her thumb back* to him I mean -- *looks back to Rick,* but generally. I--Iwanted to tell you when...well, everything went down. *She folds her arms on her chest, saying quieter.* So I could tell you I understand. *she presses her lips together hard* Please?

Lucy: *A little startled by the honesty - her gaze darts to Mitchell instantly, wondering suddenly if he felt as guilty as she did at times and then thinking: no, from what she knew, Mitchell guilted himself a hell of a lot more. Yet she was undeniably curious suddenly -- had he felt as torn as she? And she pulls herself gently from Rick, looking at him sideways with the same intense look - but saying genial, soft,* Sounds like a good idea to me. *quieter* It's kind of nice when you think of it that way, Leah that we're not alone.

Leah: *nods, though her lips twitched again too,* Yes exactly -- and Rick, hell of an insult. *winks at him, then looks apologetic to Mitch and leans to peck his cheek.*

Lucy: *Tiniest giggle at her gesture, she keeps her eyes back on Rick and then echoes, lifted their still joined hands to kiss the back of, eyes twinkling.*

Mitchell: *He groaned as Leah stood finally, knowing fun was over. He had needs! He licked his lips and frowned, fully intent on having his way with her later.*

Frederick: *His idea of "break" didn't usually involve his cousin or a man he disliked so much, and he rather it remain that way, but he had to admit he was curious. Not for details, God no, but well...they -were- in the same boat, or a very similar one at least.* But you didn't tell me. *he shrugged* Still don't trust me?

Mitchell: Nope- oww! *he rubbed his shin, and rolled his eyes. Well, that was rude. He had only been speaking the truth for himself.*

Frederick: *Utterly ignoring Mitchell, his gaze fixed on Leah's, he noticed the sincerity in her eyes and after a quick glance at Luce as she pulled away and vouched for the idea (of course she did) he turned back and nodded.* Sure. Why not?

Mitchell: *Damn. He exhaled sufferingly, only slightly placated by the kiss on his cheek. First time he's seen her in a week and a half- he wasn't pleased.* Can this be a quick discussion?

Leah: Mitchell. *She folded her arms on her chest, frustrated but admitting - it was more guilt that no, she had not trusted him that aimed her foot at him. Looking back at Frederick, she breathes easier and smiles slightly as he agreed.* Rick...it's not that I don't trust that you love Lucy, honestly, it wasn't. *looks sideways to Lucy, hesitantly*

Lucy: *lifts her chin a bit understanding in a moment and frowns briefly. But her words are free of accusation as she says softly,* Leah, if you want to ask, ask. But if you don't want someone to assume the worst of you, you should not assume the worst of them.

Leah: *A smile flicks across her lips as she realizes she's both being chastised and agrees. She turns to Rick and asks simply, curious and equally free of accusation,* Do you believe muggleborns should have equal rights? 

Lucy: *wrinkling her nose anways at the question, she folds her hands behind her back and looks at Mitchell again, knowing his irritation and also thinking maybe they shouldn't stay there for the 'short discussion' except: well, she wanted Mitchell to hear for himself. For she had every faith in Rick, and if they were fighting for anything, wasn't it for people to be able to disagree without fear of reproach? And how would anyone ever change their mind without conversations like this?*

Frederick: Well, after everything I've done, I hope you trust that much at least. *He wasn't angry, just irked but he supposed he understood why. No one in town trusted him when he first showed up, some still didn't. And even though Leah was his cousin, they weren't exactly the best of confidantes to begin with.*

Mitchell: *It was still mind blowing to him, really. It just...it was weird. And wrapping his head around it was difficult, especially because he was in the forest and he'd forget until somehow Lucy came up in conversation and consequently the way they were practically attached at the hip. Mitchell was actually a bit jealous (maybe more than a bit) that they could see each other so often. It was getting more difficult for Leah to sneak away to him. Lips pursing at Lucy's little reprimand, his eyebrows suddenly rose at Leah's straightforward question, looking from Lucy, to Leah, to Frederick. Well, this out to be good.*

Frederick: *Well, just cutting to the chase then, just like that. Brilliant. He shouldn't be surprised, it was Leah after all. Leah, whose sudden "camaraderie" with some Lords, notably Tyrelion, months ago suddenly made much more sense. She had been working with Mitchell and his gang all along. He almost laughed. Then he focused back on the question, and what really surprised him was the fact that he knew the answer immediately.* Yes.

Mitchell: *He snorted and then uncrossed his arms as he was hit with three different set of glares.* All muggleborns? Even me?

Frederick: *rolls eyes* Yes, even you.

Lucy: *The instant he spoke, her lips flicked a fond smile though she held Mitchell's gaze. Honestly, she understood the hesitance, she'd only ever heard one statement of what Rick had used to stay and it had churned her stomach but on the other hand -- no, no she didn't get their hesitance. Did they have such a low opinion of her that they thought she'd stay with someone who honestly thought she was beneath him? Still she smiled; if they didn't believe the answer from his own lips then there was nothing she nor Rick could do, and she still liked hearing it from him.*

Leah: *ignoring Mitchell's snort she lifted her chin and smiled too, gaze flicking between the three of them before saying softer, aware of her own irony* ...God, I wish you were at court. *It would have been nice to have someone there actually understand - not just feel sorry for them as Kitty and Jane and even George did mostly.*

Lucy: *frowns* Leah-

Leah: What!? I'm sorry, it's true, *she lays her hands on her heart* just because selfishly, I'd like having someone there I could be honest with! *A hand comes out--* I suppose what I really wish is that you could both - well that we could all - be wherever the hell we want to be and do whatever we want - because this -is- utter bollocks, it is, all of it, but if I'm still looking for realistic goals, I would like to talk to someone honestly and not have to lie, or cover or leave out details, just -- *she lifts her hands and rubs her face, muttering more under her breath about 'damn tyrelion' and then her eyes snap open and she looks between all of them, saying louder and less breathily,* Just. To not feel judged or pity because you're in love with someone that they say you shouldn't. 

Lucy: *rubbing under her eyes, she nods instantly, though she looks sideways at Rick still - honestly hating anything that made her feel as though it was her that took him from that, even though she knew logically it wasn't.* Well, that's what I want too. *quiet*

Frederick: *He snorted, smirking in amusement with the thought of the looks he'd get if he came back to court with Lucy in hand.* I didn't know you missed me so much, Leah.

Mitchell: Can't see why. *Frederick didn't seem like the type of person you'd miss, more like sing hallelujah choruses for their absence, but he couldn't say that out loud- the next kicked aimed his way could be placed a little higher.*

Frederick: *He definitely understood Leah's point. If he could have Lucy with him at court, he'd have preferred that. He liked court, being Lord, was proud...but Lucy was much more important to him. If he could honestly have it all, he would not hesitate. Well, only at first to ask if being at court was something Lucy wanted.* Yeah, I don't envy all the lying you're having to do now. I know how that feels.

Mitchell: It's what we all want here. And it pains me to admit it, because I dislike having things in common with you, Frederick. *he purses his lips and then he shrugs* It can happen, it will happen.

Frederick: Gonna wave your hand and make it all better, Mitchell?

Mitchell: *rolls eyes* No but, that's what we're fighting for isn't it? Choices, the ability to have choices to do what you want- which is bloody well ridiculous because it's supposed to be innate right, but...*he shrugged* 

Frederick: *dryly* Eloquent.

Mitchell: Thank you.

Lucy: *Okay, so perhaps she was oversensitive to it but dear God why was it they couldn't get through more than a few sentences without insulting each other? Men. Still she lifted her head as she considered another way: she knew Rick would have preferred she come to court. Oddly enough, she thought she'd have preferred that too. For all the backstabbing hypocrisy, the court was a place she genuinely could make a difference at and affect just by being there. And was it a crime she had spent so many years in the stables watching noblewomen and girls her age go to grand parties, feasts and celebrations and wish she could go as well? To not want to worry if they would have enough money to buy food for the week - to not spend winters huddled around a fire she tended all night, even if she had learned how to do so magically? A shiver trailed down her spine as she admitted that her at court also would have meant that Rick's family accepted her...she supposed that was what she craved and realized she'd reached for Rick's arm only after she'd taken it.* Well-speaking of which though -- *her eyes flicked to Leah, hesitant*

Leah: *Had nodded at Rick, amused a moment as she said lightly,* Oh you never believed the load of bull I had to come up with anyway Frederick. *But she knew he'd never considered -this- scenario either. Especially not so vividly. Was it extremely warm? ...Oh, she had to stop looking at Mitchell's bare chest. Hearing Lucy, she arched an eyebrow and looked back,* Yeah?

Lucy: *simply* Leah, I'm at the court. I mean not inside, obviously but-

Leah: -the stables. *At once, with a look of dawning comprehension, and a tinier smile.* ...you're thinking...-

Lucy: *shrugs* They don't trust me, any of them but-

Leah: To be fair, you did steal a horse. *Her lips flick.*

Lucy: That blighter deserved worse than that.

Leah: I don't disagree. *amused*

Lucy: But yes. *nods* Just because Henry actually saddles the majority now doesn't mean I couldn't cast a spell on them - there's some kind of listener's aid isn't there?

Leah: *smiles slowly as she considers* So you cast the spell and then wherever theygo on that saddle...you could hear what they say?

Lucy: *nods once* They're more likely to be discussing dastardly plots outside the court walls aren't they? But it's more than that - I mean - the stables are also a uh-- *casts glance to Rick suddenly grinning*--place people will go to get away, if I just stay out of view...

Leah: *Her lips flicked up as she looked at Mitchell while Lucy looked to Rick. Her smirk wide, her words were simple.* We know.

Lucy: *snorts* Yes, well - it's just a shame I've been made so visible since before that...I mean servants overhear -everything,- Leah, Rick. *she pauses looking back at him.*

Leah: *her lips flick sadly as she suddenly remembers Mitchell's brother telling her that too...God, eighteen, nineteen years ago, but she smiles and nods.* ...right but, still-

Lucy: *smiles* Still. I know how to make myself invisible. *squeezing Rick's arm in comfort* 

Leah: *looking between Rick and Lucy with a similar smile* ...you really want to help, don't you?

Frederick: *He turned his head as Lucy took his arm again, and took a step closer to her out of habit before he turned to Leah as she spoke again.* No, I didn't. *You couldn't lie to a liar, not completely. Besides, he knew he was a far better liar than Leah, if only because he had more experience. Still, it wasn't something he was particularly proud of so he kept silent.*

Mitchell: *Smirking briefly, knowing all too well the act that Leah had to put on for the court. Seeing it in action was decidedly not one of his favorites nights. Turning back to the conversation, his smirk only widened at the mention of the stables. Winking once in Leah's direction, his smirk turned into a grin at Lucy's suggestion.* Brilliant. 

Frederick: *Even the brief mention of Weston made his blood boil. Frederick was not one to forget a slight, and one made against Lucy even less. He had a very long memory, and one day that bastard would pay the price of his wrath. But he kept silent. It was more like him- cold anger. Nevertheless, he held onto Lucy closer and nodded.* Yes. However little help I can offer, at least it's something.

Mitchell: And you're just following Lucy on this.

Frederick: *Mostly. He just didn't think there was much he could do, not without putting Lucy at risk and he wouldn't do that.*

Leah: *arching an eyebrow as she relaxes against the tree, more at ease now that she was at least sure they weren't going to stab each other. With swords, that was: they clearly were attempting to stick each other with words but. She sighed, grateful for the armor of their egos.* Well. Lucy...speaking of lying...

Lucy: *As Rick drew her closer she had to admit she took comfort innately: how he seemed to know the incident with Matthew still bothered her, she didn't know. At Leah's hesitance, she stills seeming to realize, she waits, and then nods.* You want to insult me?

Leah: *She winces. Technically she already had. Rick too, considering Willas had been so 'concerned for her' as he 'knew this was another betrayal at the hands of a mudblood'--ugh, shestopped thinking, cleared her throat and spoke.* Not generally, Luce--

Lucy: No, *calmly* I get it - in front of them. It would bolster your credentials.

Leah: *eyes flick as she looks at Rick an instant, a tiny smirk on her lips. Her expression was clear: damn. Lucy would do well at court. And then she looked back,* You can insult me too, obviously. 

Lucy: *she laughs* I could always steal your horse?

Leah: *snorts* Well, yes, but don't go near my sword okay? *amused* I already had to steal it back once.

Lucy: I wouldn't dream. *lacing her fingers with Rick, looking back to Mitchell.* Mitch, -is- there something else we could do in town? *She meant that Rick could do. She desperately wanted to ask him too, if he ever planned - once exonerated - to talk to Leah's family...but she didn't know how, and figured mentioning Rick's uncle to him would not help ... anyone there actually.*

Frederick: *He frowned, instantly disliking the idea of Lucy being insulted any more period, but he begrudgingly reminded himself it was only Leah, and it would probably hurt her more to say those things and pretend to mean them then having Lucy hear it knowing it was just a lie. Nevertheless he was proud of her for seeming to understand Leah easily and perfectly, a small smirk crossing his lips.*

Mitchell: *He'd much rather have Leah in the forest with him. Obviously, he would. Just the thought of her undercover work made him frown (and the smallest most fleeting thought of Tyrelion filled him with murderous rage.) but he knew it was necessary. Logically, he knew it was necessary, emotionally, no. Emotionally he stilled sparred with Hector every night to get all his anger out. Arthur and Kenneth had already said they wouldn't spar with him anymore, for fear of him killing them. He had a feeling they were only half joking. Contemplating for a moment as a question was addressed to him he turned to Frederick, eyebrows raised* Any chance of you crawling back on your knees-

Frederick: *immediately, snapping* None.

Mitchell: Obviously, to infiltrate the group.

Frederick: Never.

Mitchell: Granted, they'd probably have you kill someone to let them gain your trust, that would be after you pretended to be your past-usual prick self.

Frederick: *firmly* I'm not putting Lucy in danger.

Mitchell: *tilts his head and admits* She already is-

Frederick: In further danger, then! You just want me to go back don't you-

Mitchell: You asked for a way to help!

Frederick: One you knew I wouldn't take!

Mitchell: We all have sacrifices to make-

Frederick: Fuck you, Mitchell.

Mitchell: What? Afraid you'll be hated again? It happens. We'd know the truth, at least.

Frederick: You know very well you don't trust me enough to "infiltrate" because you still think I'd turn my back on all of you.

Mitchell: Yeah you're right! *he stood up* I still don't trust you. *he snatched his shirt from a branch and put it over his head.* I'm leaving.

Frederick: Good riddance.

Mitchell: Not a big man now without your sword are you, -Frederick-?

Frederick: I don't need a sword to put a hole through you, -Mitchell-, so watch yourself.

Mitchell: *scoff* Please, you don't scare me. You want to help?

Frederick: *teeth gritted* Why the bloody hell do you still think I'm here looking at your fucking ugly face?

Mitchell: *ignores this and then smirks* Then go to Damocles and petition him for a charter.

Frederick: *thrown* a charter?

Mitchell: Yes. For a bank. You mentioned it to Kitty one day didn't you? Kitty told Leah, Leah told me. I think it's a fucking fantastic idea, and I'm only sorry you were the one that came up with it.

Frederick: What the fuck do you know about banks, Mitchell?

Mitchell: Nothing, but you do. That's the point. You're the only one "qualified" enough to ever run one. Well, Karyn might have been the other, but seeing as how she's on the run too-

Frederick: So all that stuff before, you were just pulling my leg?

Mitchell: *smirk* I just wanted to see what you'd say. Still don't trust you with my life, personally, but details.

Leah: *Huh. Bark didn't squish. Thud. Thud. Her eyes were closed the moment Mitchell made the suggestion; for a second she had to admit whoever they were, would believe Frederick over her, before the inevitable made her groan. And repeatedly knock her head against the tree with every sentence. Especially as Mitchell changed tactics so fast - which she'd anticipated really - and she rolled her eyes.* Mi--

Lucy: -just wanted to see what he'd say!? *breathing heavily, she had only been silenced as Rick mentioned how it would put her in danger, calmed by his concern. And yet still, were Lucy a cat her tail would be sticking straight up with her eyebrow.* Mitchell Stone, he is not a lab rat. Anymore than we are for -*jerks her head in the general direction of the far off manor*-for them!

Leah: *she screws her lips up adding evenly,* Nor is Mitch an idiot, Luce.

Lucy: *blink, thrown a bit* I haven't treated him as one.

Leah: *under her breath* Orugly. *so they all could hear now,* No I know, I just thought you might stop explaining the obvious. 

Lucy: *Shenarrows her eyes...then sees Leah mouth 'leave it' and realizes (though not without frustration) how Mitchell and Rick (in their way) had just declared they'd work together, that Mitch thought he had a good idea. She sighs and nods.* Right. Well. Either way, any more tests Mitchell? *arches brow irritated*

Leah: *snorts and then pushes off the tree, eyes back on Rick and saying softer, sincerity back in her eyes as she said quietly,* And I do. Just for the record, Rick. I mean that's when we aren't sparring, obviously, but that's different. *she grins slightly.*

Lucy: *still squeezing Rick's hand and looking at Mitchell, she adds softer herself,* The bank is a good idea.

Mitchell: *To be honest, he was surprised he didn't suffer any more than a verbal lashing. Still, he had needed to test Frederick. If he was going to work with him, he needed to at least know he wouldn't anything stupid.* We'd give the money to the people that way.

Frederick: I figured. *he shrugged* Simple enough. They'd all need to open accounts, after that it's just a matter of adding the money in as deposits. They'd have to be explained that they need to keep money in the bank at all times though, they just can't withdraw it all, otherwise there'd be no chance for them to increase their earnings-

Mitchell: I'll leave that to you. *He was more than capable, at least. Besides that way, there'd be less of a chance of the money he and the gang were giving to simply be snatched back.* I'd talk to Esther if I were you, she could help you make them understand. Kenneth's brother, Ian, you know 'im? Sharp lad,  eager to help, unfortunately not so easy to dissuade. I'd rather he didn't try and tackle on a whole garrison with a butcher knife.

Frederick: *He would need to hire a staff of three others at least. Preferably a few who were more prone to smile given that Rick himself wasn't exactly an expert on customeng to the much easier smirk.* Right.

Mitchell: Aww, see, we're all getting along. *grins and then he licks his lips and then motions outwardly* We were here first though, seriously.

Frederick: Leah it's not too late to change your mind. *dryly* There must be some other outlaw out there for you instead of this one.

Mitchell: Haha. Leave, please. I'm two minutes away from begging, and three minutes away from taking myself in-

Frederick: We're leaving. *he tugs on Lucy's hand, squeezing her fingers between his tighter.*

Leah: *Her lips flick wide with relief: the usual bickering through the details now only making her smile. It was better than expected. Much, really. Nodding at Rick once more with a similar smirk she doesn't see the need to say more and well. Mitchell took care of talking for her. She snorted,* Believe me Rick, I've thought about it.

Lucy: *Yes, she thought briefly, Mitchell and Leah certainly had thought about the entire known world it had seemed, during the years and years of ridiculous denial. Happy to see them smiling now, she squeezed Rick's hand back adding lightly,* Oh, and happy birthday Mitchell. My mum prayed for you on the actual day -*her smile flicks teasingly*- but, when you do come by there's a better present too: she stitched you a new shirt. Well I helped.

Leah: You hate sewing too. *smirk widens even as she looks exasperated, and simply stays still playing with her necklace, thinking about his "present" here.*

Lucy: I really rath--*feels Rick tugging on her hand and arm again and giggles suddenly*--er do yes-- geesh, impatient aren't they? *teasing, even as she lets Rick pull her back (well all right she did not have much choice)*

Leah: Very. *laughing and waves bye to both of, then looks back at Mitchell and has her hands on her hips saying drily* Taking your -self- in hand!? 

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-seven: 6} lyric

Lucy: *The best things come in small packages, her mother had parroted to her since she realized that even though she was only fourteen years, she was never going to grow taller. She had never doubted that; she honestly enjoyed it, particularly considering how large Rick was. She was melded into his back now, and she half thought were his arm not around her she would not still be standing. Yet her mother also had said that a straw will show which way the wind blows, and she wanted to see now. She wanted to be able to look into Daniel's eyes, offer comfort, offer anything - bloody hell, she had known the man all her life. As glad as she was that Arthur had escaped, that Karyn would not be there to see ... she hated the thought of Daniel dying alone.

Rick's arm tightened around her suddenly, and her eyes darted from straining to see the scaffold -- where the bloody hell was Daniel, anyway? -- to the ramparts, imagining there must have been someone up there he recognized, fear in her eyes, and gut that she'd see his father. An apology was planned word for word, but she knew it would not fall from her lips if she saw Cyrus, for want to scream how dare he refuse to recognize his son, how dare he make her feel so responsible for it, and why pride was more important than happiness.

She was relieved to recognize only Etta, and promptly laid her cheek against Rick's shoulder. Murmuring warm against his ear,* I, love, you. This is...god, I have no words. I don't know what I'd do without you here. *Lucy slipped her arm around his waist too. Up on those ramparts was his sister, with the knights his old friends, his cousins surrounded them everywhere - Lord, how many Brackners were there? For the most part in nearly a month, he had not seen any of them and if they deigned to come see him it was only to mock, or puzzle or gape. The few that did not apply to who honestly had proven their affection for him, almost hurt him worst she thought - they lived a very different life, and only served to remind him of it. Yet he was there with her. Tears were already threatening to fall, but her jawline tightened seeing the sheriff appear, hatred replacing sorrow in her eyes.* 

Frederick: *He hadn't hesitated for a moment to offer to come here with Lucy. As soon as she had made her mind up on coming, he knew he would be there for her, holding her, keeping her together. Lucy was a strong woman but this...this would phase even those with hearts of ice, and Lucy's heart was certainly not made of it. He knew perfectly well the people he was bound to see, the possible pointing and gestures he'd have to ignore, but he'd ignore them all without a trouble and that was exactly what he was doing. He was not here for them, he was here for Lucy. He did not know the man sentenced to die personally, only that he was Karyn (and Arthur's) father, only that he had been framed. That man did not deserve this.

He only looked up at the ramparts once, and easily found his sister. She was a commanding presence without trying, and now when she put effort into it, it was all the more effective. Their gazes met and after a few seconds, her head shook once, barely noticeable; she had managed to figure out exactly what he was thinking. Cyrus Brackner was not among them.

He tilted his head level again, having found Virgil though he knew that for sanity's sake, he could not keep looking. The longer he kept looking, the more chances he had of finding someone pointing at them, whispering, sneering. And God help Weston if he saw him, because then Rick would surely have no restraint. Instead, he focused on Lucy, holding her tighter, kissing her forehead in hopes of easing her as she began speaking again.* You don't ever have to find out, my love. I'm here, I'll always be here.

Lucy: *As his lips met her forehead, her frown softened but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes from looking at the Sheriff. He was sneering, the bastard was giddy up on that scaffold, conferring with another of the councillors. Teeth gnashed together, she finally just closed her eyes, leaned against him and let his words flutter over her.* Thank you... *Lucy let out a breath, then another. How it was he came to be there beside her -- she couldn't say it was some odd coincidence or that they didn't deserve it, because she remembered every detail painfully vividly and they worked at it. God, every day. She was lucky. It was hard to remind herself of that now, when her oldest friend's father was a quarter hour from death, but the fact that Rick was there...she was lucky. 

By the time she let her eyes open, she only said calmly,* He's shorter up closer. *She gestured to the sheriff, though her jawline was still hard. She looked back at Rick, muttering,* The bastard isn't going to win. Arthur's out, Rick, he's out and -- he, Ken, Mitch - they aren't going to stop. *Quietly, she looked back at him.* I know you're with me, and I love you so much. I'm with them. Rick...they're going to need me. And I'll do anything, this...this has to stop. And Arthur's one of my oldest friends...I want to find him, and I--well I know how.

Frederick: *He snorted, his gaze flicking towards the Sheriff at her comment. Frederick had never liked the man, not even when he was still at court. He was just so...unpleasant, imposing, bordering on being a complete delinquent. Men like that, when they weren't on the side of the 'law', had the tendency of becoming serial killers and mass murderers. Though, he was already well on his way to that, and today was not the beginning of it.

His gaze didn't linger long, however. Frederick turned his attention right back to Lucy, rubbing her arms, listening to her talk with a fury he hadn't heard on her before. As every day passed, Lucy was more and more determined to help her friends and he supported that. He would do the same if it was his friends and his family being persecuted, even if at the moment he wasn't sure who exactly qualified in those categories anymore. He nodded silently, licking his lips and then paused, his head tilting in curiosity at her last statement.* How?

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 5} lucy, matthew, damocles

Lucy: *Her forehead furrowed with concentration. She knew he was a moment from insinuating that ‘stupid mudbloods’ could not properly saddle a horse in what he thought was a clever remark, all the while unaware that she actually was entirely preoccupied with the fallacy that she might be able to hold her tongue. This man meant absolutely nothing to her, she thought (reminded herself) as fiercely as she tightened the loop, a whinny of dismay answering her. She murmured to the horse’s neck,* I know, me too honey.

Matthew: What was that? *He had been turned the other way, smug look on his face as he surveyed the gaggle of girls near the training field edge. One had waved at him, but hearing the muttered remark he turned back, brows arching over a smirk that did not move.* Did you just call me ‘honey’?

Lucy: *Is m’lord hard of hearing? She almost said it, really it was on the tip of her tongue but the last time she had said something out of bounds…* No, my lord.

Matthew: *If the smirk moved, it was only to lift up, gaze surveying her up and down halting -he took his time- before he responded,* Lying is unattractive.

Lucy: *…the last time, Rick had returned to her arms. Why was she holding her tongue again?* Many things are unattractive, my lord. *She tied another loop, breath quick, still not looking back at him.* I imagine you’re well acquainted with them indeed. *Now she looks over the saddle at him.* In this case however, I did not lie, for I was referring to the horse.

Matthew: *His gaze narrowing, hand falling to land on the hilt of the sword. He opened his mouth and shut it several moments, seeming to decide which offensive insinuation to respond to and settled for,* The horse. I am not surprised. *He looks back over to the ladies smirking again.* Your kind would associate as such.

Lucy: *Her hands pause on the third loop, unable to help herself from looking up now, anger flashing behind her eyes,* Regarding treating other living creatures with kindness and compassion?

Matthew: *He only snorts.* I had heard you were actually partial to more…rough rides.

Lucy: *Her nails bit into the leather of the saddle, if only to avoid causing more pain to the horse. A horse she was desperately considering letting free at that moment.* How remarkable. The court still deigns to talk about me. I am impossibly flattered.

Matthew: Oh, they do more than talk about you, Lucy. *He looks back at her now, fixing her with a suddenly stern look.* I can promise you that.

Lucy: *As a shiver trails down her spine, the line of her mouth only thins.* And you know my name. What should I do with my gratitude, Matthew?

Matthew: Lord Weston. *He snaps it.*

Lucy: And here I thought you were insisting on familiarity, my lord. *Snaps as well, looking back to the saddle.*

Matthew: *He watches her work bored a moment, licking his lower lip and rocking back on his heels, regarding her now with bemusement.* Your name is Lucy Harte. *As expected her hands still once more, but after a single nervous flick of her lips, she resumed and he continued talking.* You’re the reason Frederick was driven to dishonor.

Lucy: *muttering angrily under her breath* Rick has more honor in his pinky finger than you do in your entire being.

Matthew: I had heard you were particularly insolent. *as if he hadn’t heard her, taking another step closer to her, enjoying the fact she shivered in a non-existent breeze as he did so. His gaze trailed over her again, tilting his head, eyes trained far beneath her own as he deigned to continue responding aloud,* Insolence can be enjoyable.

Lucy: *She only let herself shiver once, though her breath was quick and she felt if she were a four legged animal her haunches would be raised by his sudden, creeping proximity. Still she only mutters,* More rough rides? If you desire, I do know where a hippogriff may be located. *Eyes flashing, she looks over her shoulder, startled to realize exactly how close he was and glares at him. Her words gain that sickly sweet tone Rick made fun of, that he would kiss away,* I am sure she would be honored to bear your lordly self. Shall I find her?

Matthew: *He doesn’t answer or move away, a hand falling to rest instead on the stable, rather near her own. She shrinks from him, but his smirk only widens.* I must admit, despite the surprise, Frederick’s motivation is…*his gaze trailing back up to her eyes finally, lips flicking* …understandable now.

Lucy: Rick chose love instead of hatred, compassion in place of hatred. *Heated.*

Matthew: *He laughs, and it chills her, his eyes wide as he looks back over his shoulder before looking back to her,* Oh, that is not what Rickchose. Your spirit is … *he licks his bottom lip again*

Lucy: You are too close, my lord. *Her hand tightening on the stirrup.* And I am not a horse to be described as such.

Matthew: *He laughs again, shrugging once, lifting his hand now to gently—impossibly gently—push her curls off her shoulder.* That’s the spirit. *He smirks, as she grabs his wrist and flings his hand away, he only laughs once more.* And fire too.

Lucy: If you do not step back. *heated still under her breath, eyes narrowed in anger and disgust. First, she shook her curl back over her shoulder.* Rest assured I am more than capable of making you, boy.

Matthew: *Apparently, that touched a nerve, for his smirk faded, strengthened instead now by cruelty.* Do not think you can toy with me, you little-

Lucy: Cunt? *She cuts him off, arching an eyebrow.* Shall you name me by the only part of me you’d consider worthy?

Matthew: *Eyes, jawline thinning.* Have you enjoyed seducing a Lord, Lucy? Do you imagine you’re something special now, made different? *Tiniest chuckle, though the easy warmth from before is gone.* Glad to have split a family up, just for the remarkably unspectacular reward of your cunt?

Lucy: If it is so remarkably unspectacular. *Her voice is even, though breathy. Her jawline lifts in a tiny smirk of her own, breath still harsh,* Why do you stare at me as a prize? One out of your reach, I might add, you could not jump to scrape at my toes.

Matthew: *his mouth opens and shuts again, gaze darting over his shoulder before looking back the second time.* He will tire of you, you know. He always does. *He leans forward to whisper,* But rest assured when he does Lucy, you need not look far for another Lord to take you. I have no trouble confessing bedding you would be - *he looks*- an exquisite pleasure.

Lucy: *The small smirk she had worn did not move, but without another word or breath he suddenly doubled over in pain. Lucy blinked astonished at the stream of obscenities suddenly loose from Matthew’s mouth as he fell onto his knees. What spell had she even used? Her heart pounding and eyes going round as saucers, she couldn’t help but smirk wider to see whatever spell it was—it clearly was painful in an…exquisiteplace. When she saw his wand protruding from his cloak, among the stream of —you little fucking mudblood whore— she simply kicked his knee (which sent him to face plant in the ground), stepped back and had hoisted herself atop the horse in an instant. Good, she thought as she took the reins, the horse deserved a better rider than he.*

Matthew: That’s my horse! *It interrupted the stream of obscenities as he spat out dirt and twigs.*

Lucy: Why my lord. *Her hand laid over her heart.* I thought you wanted to give me a ride? So kind of you, really, I am utterly flattered. *She blew him a kiss despite it churning her stomach, blood hot and adrenaline rife in her veins, spurring the horse forward. He yelled ‘This isn’t over, Lucy!’ but she ignored that too, riding back and hard towards town. They did need a stallion, she thought at the back of her mind, and if she could get it to Mitchell - they would be able to sell it for her elsewhere, repay her father the money she had cost him.

As the hooves pounded the ground in a ragged pace to match her sporadic heart, she spotted Lord Damocles on the edge of town and winced. It would figure she would see him now, atop a stolen horse (though she thought if she explained the vile words from Matthew he would grant her it freely). Slowing to a halt, she went to dismount before realizing, Damocles had not even looked up. The Lord wore a cloak she thought must have disguised him previously, and he was perched on a hay bale unconcerned, hand draped off his knee. Nor was he alone as she had thought, there was a little boy beside him. It took Lucy a moment to recognize the young Robert Hall, a smile briefly gracing her lips. 

Dismounting and nudging her stolen horse around the side of the building, she tied him off before slipping a canvas down, hoping no one would come this way. As she rounded the corner once more, she stopped in shock, seeing Lord Faye hand Robert a small little sack, silver peeking through it. Robert was nodding to whatever it was the instructions were, earnest and exuberantly grateful before he ran off. Lucy felt her heart, hard from her previous encounter and beating fast, slow and melt at the look on the Lord’s face.

She still was looking after Robert when she realized he had cleared his throat, and spotted her. Pink colored her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, my lord? Did you—”

He waved her off. “It is no matter, Lucy. I merely inquired if you were all right.”

“All right?” There was an awkward pause; Damocles was clearly uncomfortable, but not in a way she thought she minded. He instead just appeared discomforted by the notion he might have embarrassed her. Or rather, he seemed to have embarrassed himself.

“You look out of breath.” He supplied.

“Oh.” She chuckles, rubbing at both cheeks and shrugs a shoulder. “I was riding. It’s nothing.”

Then she remembered a split second later, this was her sovereign.

“You honor me by asking.” Only Lord Faye waved that off too, even more discomforted. “And I should—thank you, the Halls are some of the best people I know—”

“I know.” That took her by surprise, but the discomfort cleared in his eyes and he stood to meet her gaze evenly. There was a tiny smile on his lips, even as he chided, “Esther is a gifted school teacher, Grant invaluable and his kindness unparalleled. And as is often the case, their children are little rascals and scamps surely repaying their parents past misdeeds a hundred times over, yet charming and compassionate as well. I might not know everyone as well as I would have liked to, nor do they know me but I am well aware of what it is I do, Lucy.”

She looks to the ground, cheeks beginning to burn again, muttering, “Of course, sire.”

“Look up.” He says it simply, and when she finally does obey the command (her hand finding her skirt to fidget, she is shocked to see his honest smile.

“You can call me Damocles.” His smile lifts, only making her blink. “Provided you do not inform anyone that Iwasgiving anything away. It was payment, you see, for a gift for my wife. As much as I donate to charities at Christmastime, I also know the pride in this village—a pride I am honored by, in fact. You won’t tell?”

She finds herself grinning, chuckling, and nodding at once. Her heart was in a whirlwind.”Of course I won’t, si—Damocles. Thank you.”

There was a whinny. Damocles’ arched his eyebrow, clearly surveying her pink cheeks. Then he laughed. “It seems someone demands your attention, Lucy.”

“It seems.” She laughs as well, looking down, wondering if he realized the horse in question had been stolen. If he had — it seemed he had, there was something questioning in his gaze — he let it go a moment later. She grinned relieved, even if wrong-footed.

He nods at her, beginning to depart before he turns back. The smile was gone from his eyes, though firm on his lips. A shiver of unease passed through her before she realized: he wasn’t glaring. He was sad.

“Is my…for lack of a better term, nephew…all right, Lucy?”

It took her a moment to realize he meant Frederick, considering she knew they were not actually related. But of course he considered him family nonetheless, his sister was Rick’s aunt—and she had the strangest feeling now that Damocles had lied to her, that he had given much more than necessary, that the linen in his cloak had held loaves of bread she could see others eating nearby. Her smile lifted.

“More than.” Her words were genuine and quiet, but she spoke freely now here too. It seemed something she would never be able to help. “Rick’s happy. He misses his family, his honest friends— the court, he does. I would be much obliged if you could tell his father that, and tell his father I apologize. But I imagine that wouldn’t change anything if you did, and while he does miss it…he’s happy, my l—Damocles. Happy, relaxed, and proud once more. As I am proud of him too.”

Damocles pauses, the smile back in earnest and she thought, ten fold.

“I’m proud of him too.”

Lucy stared as he left, stunned into silence with a silly little smile on her lips. It only widened when she recalled the face of Matthew in the dirt and — ignoring all that transpired before that, as she was suddenly incredibly happy — she lost herself to giggling into her hands.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-three: 6} lucy, rick, angela, charles

Frederick: *After they finished their chores amidst teasing and joking remarks, they walked to town, taking a coin out of the bag to share a pastry; Frederick chose to ignore where the coin has originally come from. Choosing a pecan and maple danish pastry from the bakery, they walked outside to eat it. Lucy teased him about his hesitance to eat it without utensils. He of course had to prove her wrong, but instead of eating it himself he pushed the piece of Danish up to her lips with a smirk.*

Angela: *Angela needed some time off from her work, and she did not fancy going back to the woods for a bit. It wasn't that she was afraid, for Angela was never afraid, but quite simply she didn't want to hear any apologies Ulrich might have for her. The man was a stubborn donkey and while previously a trait she appreciated, right at that moment it would only be infuriating. Upon further exploration of court, she discovered something that left her positively giddy: a camera. It had been stored, she assumed, because it was broken. With some help from her new friend Wilson (he was so adorable, much more than David, and she was awfully tempted to be the first one to teach him about his sexuality), she was able to find what she needed to repair the camera. The film, however, she had to nick -or how she told Wilson, borrow- from one of her other friends at court. Angela made "friends" easily. Photographing court didn't interest her, so she headed to town in tight trousers, boots, and a white string camise under her favorite corset. One of the children in town asked if she was a pirate, and she couldn't help but beam at and hug  them, knowing that was precisely the look she was going for. Walking around town, snapping pictures with the box camera (missing her old camera quite terribly), she pause as she saw a young couple, a few years older than her, being absolutely sweet sharing a pastry. They must have been newlyweds...they had no ring but they didn't look to be too well off either, maybe that was it. Either way, she got at an appropriate enough distance and after changing the aperture she snapped the picture, marveling at how quick the shutter speed was; it must have been magically enhanced.*

Frederick: *a strange noise reached his ears and he noticed a girl pointing a camera at them. Odd, he thought to himself and as Lucy hid her face in his chest for a small moment, he held her to him, a bit smug.*

Angela: *Seeing that they noticed her, she grinned and waved at them, absolutely entertained by how abashed the woman was, and how protective he was. Precious, oh, she just had to introduce herself! Walking over with a grin, she started talking before she actually reached them* You two are well on your way to making me rethink this marriage idea, hi! I'm Angela.

Lucy: *Pecan and maple were intoxicating when wrapped in flour and sugar, even when waving teasingly out of reach. Tongue suddenly wagging freely in the air as it moved away, she exclaimed,* Rick! *Giggling and whacking lightly at his shoulder (though not enough to dislodge the arm around her), she clamped her lips down. Her tongue stayed stuck out at him a heartbeat before he relented, and she wrapped one hand around his collar to keep him there as he pressed the pastry to her lips again, fluffy and nutty. Mming, she flicked her tongue against his fingertips as they lingered, only to suddenly hear an odd sound. Thrown, her gaze swiveled until she saw a...oh, God was that a camera? Strawberry-colored cheeks met his chest instantly, burrowing as a gopher might. Oh Lord, and she was coming over. Staying against Rick, her brows furrowed further but she smiled on reflex and a bit of sudden pleasure.* Hello Angela. I'm Lucy....*she blinked* ...the marriage idea?

Charles: *Oddly enough, just as he had enjoyed the day at the lake with the family, he had genuinely enjoyed the time spent with Lucy and Rick except for one thing. The alcohol. Rather, the swill that the town apparently passed as ale. No wonder they got drunk so easily, they drank to stop tasting it. Regardless, he wasn't drinking that again, and had a eighteen year old crystalline whiskey clutched in his hand for them to share when he saw who they were with. He'd paused, thinking to himself he still wasn't used to seeing them...affectionate. Or actually anyone in public like that...town. Yet he found himself grinning anyway; fond of them both and pleased with their obvious happiness. Now seeing Angela approach them, his honest smile only widened.* Rick! *Yet his eyes were on Angela, to wink as he spun around. He waited to dig the whiskey out from his cloak, crossing the streets in easy lengthy strides, handing it to him.* I found it. Afternoon, Lucy. *He grinned as if it were only due to finding the alcohol, though his eyes slid back to Angela in a heartbeat.* Hello again, Angela. *His eyes widened seeing the camera, delighted,* Is that the Brownie? I had one of those...it broke. *His eyes darted to Rick an instant, but he said nothing further on it.* I have the No. 2 F right now but...*easily* Not the same really.

  Frederick: *Marriage? Who said anything about marriage- maybe the woman had them confused with other people but that wasn't likely; not to be conceited but they were rather unique. Though he wanted to express how impolite it was of her to take the picture, he refrained. He long learned that impolite was not a word anyone in town really understood* Hello, I'm Frederick *oh, then she must have been the Angela Charles spoke of, or well, mentioned avidly was more appropriate a word.*

Angela: *She beamed, as really they were quite precious and then turned to Lucy, a bit confused.* Well, you're newlyweds aren't you? Putting your display of love and happiness for the world to see- very honeymoon like of you. *she paused in her explanation upon hearing a voice calling out a name that was unfortunately not hers but that was alright, because it was only a matter of time. Turning to look as Charles approached, she had to fight off both a look of surprise- she hadn't imagined she'd see him here. The smirk and the accompanying wave however, those she didn't hold back.*

Frederick: *Glad to have a reason to ignore Angela's assuming statement, he turned to look as Charles approached them, light amusement shown in his expressions.* Hey Charles- *he took the whiskey with a smirk* good man. *The smirk remained as he looked at Charles, eyeing him knowingly*

Angela: *Oh! Of course- Frederick Brackner, the one who was disowned, Marietta's brother and she believed Charles' first cousin. So many different family ties at court, it was hard to keep up.* Hello, Charles. *smiling earnestly at his inquiry, she wiggled her eyebrows at her own private knowledge before speaking* Did you? *She'd have to return it to him then...at an other time.* These are snapshot cameras, really. I used to have a Century that I bought back in Rochester- it was my favorite. *Angela shrugged before she turned back to Lucy and Frederick, a small smile on her face* So...you're not, married?

Lucy: *Eyes widening at the statement, she was sure her cheeks were now flaming. Brightly chuckling, she found herself speechless, chewing the Danish quickly as it caught in her throat. Having trouble finding words to dissuade her assumption, a fact probably made worse by the fact in answer she just covered her mouth (avoid trapping flies, as her mother would say) and just curled closer under Rick's arm.* Oh-er-*Well, that was what they were doing. She cut off as Charles appeared, blinking--wait, Charles?*

Charles: *wiping his hand off against his cloak without looking away from Angela for long, just grinning,* Yeah--wouldn't say no to opening it now either, it has...been a day. *An eyebrow arching,* I have more hopes for the night, honestly.

Lucy: *Speaking of putting affection on display, she thought amused.* Hello. *She didn't think he heard her but for the first time, she didn't care that he was distracted. Blinking at the camera--she'd only seen one before, and it had been huge, she tilted her head marveling.* How did it take the photograph thatquickly? *Her fingers curled over her fistful of Rick's shirt, mouth in a small oh of wonder.* When my mother had us take a portrait, I remember having to stand still for what felt like years...*tiny pause* Though I was six, and had a hard time staying still.

Charles: *Well, his Brownie had a..magical lift on that, but the minute long exposures were gone regardless.* They've improved the chemical reactions inside, an inventor Eastman created rolled film. The Brownie uses 117 rollifilm--it has a shutter speed of...oh, 1/40? *He looked to Angela (innocently) 1/42? Of a second?

Lucy: *mouths a -wow-*

Charles: Married? *For a second his heart seemed to freeze in his chest, before he saw their expressions. Well. Was it out of the question, considering how much they had surprised everyone already? Amused at how caught (and pink) Lucy was, he said lightly,* Did you lose the invitation for me, Lucy?

Lucy: Oh, Charles. *going, if possible, redder, clearing her throat,* No, no--we're not. *Was it her imagination, or was Angela smiling on at Rick at that last little question? Her brows knit together as she added pointed, tightening her arm around him,* Very much in love though, yes. *But she was smiling soft just to say that aloud.*

  Frederick: *Oh, smooth. Frederick refrained from snorting or smirking at his cousin but he did exchange a knowing smile with Lucy before answering back* Sure, always up for a drink. Lucy?

Angela: *Wicked boy, she thought to herself with a small smirk on her face. Turning to Lucy, Angela was about to answer her question when Charles beat her to it. She pursed her lips, trying not to be impressed but ultimately failing* 1/42, right except this one has a little...*her lips twitch* help.

Frederick: *He honestly didn't care about the camera or film or whoever the hell Eastman was, but he could pretend to follow along at least. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Charles' tease, he immediately tried to deny it* No, no- *He smirked a moment as Lucy held on to him tighter, nodding at her words.*

Angela: Obviously *she was amused. She hadn't even meant to seem imposing, oh well.* Would you want the picture once I develop it? It was honestly the most adorable display I've seen. Not usually my preference *her gaze flicked briefly at Charles before returning to the couple* but very sweet, frame worthy.

Lucy: I'm in. *She answered immediately, genuine amusement at the thought. Charles seemed determined to spend time with her as long as he could get drunk while doing it. Turning to Angela politely (though she still had yet to let Rick go, or even loosen her grip), she added light,* Would you care to join us as well?

Charles: *Lucy definitely did that on purpose; insure that he couldn't be the one to ask, if her smile at him was anything.* Excellent. *He was more than okay with ceasing to talk about marriage--dear Lord, he could not imagine the state of their family -then- and a little time to let people get used to the idea...honestly did not think it was too much to ask for.* Where to? *He nodded to Rick. He was sure to have found the best romantic places to steal away to.*

Lucy: *Still a little flushed, she grins with nervousness* I--well. Not if I look silly?

Charles: *Wiggles his eyebrows in response with nothing else but a smirk as she intimated her 'usual preference'*

Lucy: *a bit awkward still, she frees one hand to rub her cheek and furrows her brow* Thank you...it's appreciated. *It was, honestly: though she had no idea who Angela was (and found it obvious that she was not from around there even if her accent hadn't been odd) for her not to be aware of them. But then, Mitchell had not known either...but her reaction was preferable. To say the least. She smiled honestly, slipping to take Rick's hand as they went to walk, and as she heard Charles ask something she leaned to hiss to Rick so he would hear alone,* ...who is she?

Charles: *He only nodded, still amused at the thought that her Brownie had help as well--and then he paused. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he considered, moving to walk with them* ...Angela. *There was delight in his eyes.* Did you happen to find that camera in the court?

Angela: *If she hadn't been invited, she would have been rather offended. Obviously, she did not know them very well but you just couldn't not invite Angela for a drink, it was just known.* I'd love to.

Frederick: *smirking at Charles a moment, he nodded* I know a place. *A meadow, nothing too luxurious but it was nice enough.* Not afraid to get a little grass stain on your shoes, cousin?

Angela: *Biting back a comment about decidedly "dirty" things, she focused instead on Lucy's response and giggled* Nonsense, you're beautiful you won't look silly. *she winked* And if you do, I can only imagine you'd turn that lovely shade of pink again and then Frederick here can come thank me. *Hmm, maybe that wasn't appropriate of her to say. All the better.*

Frederick: *chuckling under his breath, he took Lucy's hand as they started walking and then turned his head to whisper a response in her ear* She's a muggle cartographer, impressed Maeve, and got herself into court. Charles has mentioned her a couple of times.

Angela: *Walking, she smiled when she was addressed and grinned outright at the question* Yes, actually. Funniest thing, I found this hidden away behind some books in a drawing room? Fixed it quickly enough- *she turned to him with a smug smirk* Maybe I could help fix yours.

  Charles: *Snorting once, he shook his head a fraction of an inch before saying lightly,* Certainly not. I have never been shy about being dirty. Tend to luxuriate in it, in fact.

  Lucy: Imagine my surprise, Charles. *She didn’t look back as she said it; the sarcasm fell from her lips before she thought about it. Oddly at an impasse a moment, she knew Charles was too only from his lack of rebuttal. A smirk spread across her lips as she looked up at Rick, arching an eyebrow* That true? You like seeing me all…flustered? *She cocks an eyebrow, as her voice had dropped with purpose.*

  Charles: *All right, he had to admit, despite their working together to heal, and their mutual liking of Rick, he still was surprised by Lucy’s lack of embarrassment now. How was it a photograph could turn her red and idly discussing arousal only made her smirk? But he ignored it a heartbeat later, Angela was speaking just to him, and all thoughts of Lucy flatly disappeared. Angela had a wicked smirk of her own, one he couldn’t help but mirror. Devious and daring, she made him laugh suddenly.* Ah, that is strange. Perhaps. Perhaps you could also tell me what became of my camera, as coincidentally enough I believe I had placed the parts in that very location.*And then forgotten about, as Rick was helping him hide evidence.*

Lucy: *Nodding absently at his explanation, her brows still furrow in surprise.* …muggle? But—*She only barely restrains herself from spinning back to look at Angela and Charles, grip tightening on Rick’s hand. Her momentary impress with Angela getting accepted at the court was thrown out just to think that Charles was behaving thus. Was it too much to hope for that Rick waspartially the influence? Shrugging a shoulder, she still had an innocent soft smile as she thought about it — at least, it was innocent until she recognized the destination. The smirk was back in an instant, wicked as the memory that warmed her.* The meadow, Rick? 

  Angela: *she smirked in delight at Lucy's quick response to Charles' comment and then nearly laughed at her immediate tease of her man right then and there.* Oh I like you.

Frederick: *smirking, he licked his lips without noticing it and then nodded a moment, saying nothing else.*

Angela: You did? *she grinned widely, pretending to think hard for a moment.* I did not see any other Brownie cameras in need of repair, I'm afraid. Such a shame- maybe I'll let you borrow my new one. *she tapped the box camera in her hands.*

Frederick: I know. *Boy, did Rick know. He knew exactly how odd this was for his cousin.. Well, he also knew it probably wasn't going to last past a shag, but despite that it was still surprising. Grinning at her question, he nodded* Yes. *he squeezed her hand* don't want to share?

  Lucy: *Now she would blush. The sun was awfully hot today wasn't it? Sweltering, honestly, summer heat. Before the rain probably. She cleared her throat, saying lightly back,* I like you too. *Now why couldn't it be so simple to make friends all the time? Men.*

Charles: *Honestly, he barely heard any exchange between Angela and Lucy, so after the simplest look to Rick that said nothing but 'women', he was drawn right back to the camera. His camera. He laughed,* What poor luck I have! *He pauses, then amends,* Actually, fabulous luck. For if my camera had not broken, and then gone missing, then I should have had no occasion to ask you share, and go shoot together. Which I would be much obliged if you would.

Lucy: I'm glad though. *She nodded once, remembering far too well Rick's conflict, the fact that she had slept with him three times before she dared ask if he would come back instead of curling up with him. The thought was chased away as he smirked and squeezed her hand, lifting her free one to his arm and squeezing once herself.* As longas we stay off the little hill with the oak tree where we--*she smirked, but her smile softened as she remembered simply* That was where you first kissed me too. Well. Grabbed me. *She giggled, yanking his arm to make them both avoid walking in to an oak tree. Ironic.*

Angela: *A new friend already- it truly was that easy for her most times, despite the brief snag where she was thought to be a home wrecking whore, but it happens. Hiding a smirk of triumph, she shrugged before answering* Oh, I'm not sure I'll have the time. I'm usually so frightfully busy, there's even very little rest to be had in my own chambers, you see *she grinned teasingly before adding* And I'd hate to pull you away from your friends now.

Frederick: Near miracle really. *And wouldn't it be amusing if Rick could be able to say "I told you so" so soon? Laughing once at the memory, he smirked and nodded his head* I remember. Very very clearly- whoa. *Almost walking into a tree and he hadn't even drank anything yet. He laughed a little and then looked grin before walking a little faster* What is "it" exactly?

Charles: *Amused, he had to admit he was impressed the forward comments of his were only met by equally playful and forward remarks. It was the oddest feeling, as though he were being toyed with, as much as he was toying too. Angela's smirk reminded him suddenly of a cat. His own only widened.* Ah, I see. I suppose that only leaves me the option of joining you in them then. *A brow popped.*

Lucy: Agreed. *it was whispered so matter of fact.* If they see each other again after they shag, then we have reached miracle status. *With a wink of glee and bemusement, Luce continued right on, nodding along,* I remember too--vivid. I think I could stand to be reminded though.

Charles: *As Angela sped up, he stayed in place appreciating the view an instant. Bloody hell he should have had his camera to preserve -that- sight. Hm. Things to discuss later, really.*

Lucy: *she grins sideways at Angela, fingers lacing with Rick's.* A little meadow...well, grove, but we call it the meadow. The daisies are out now, it's beautiful--*in multiple ways*--secluded. *She winks, then asks curiously* How come you're taking photos Angela?

Angela: Does it? *she tilted her head for a moment as she pretended to contemplate his words* No...no, not quite...you musn't limit yourself, Charles. Think outside of the box...camera. *she wiggled her eyebrows before walking forward*

Frederick: *What amused him, apart from hearing Lucy speak so plainly of course which was always entertaining, was that they had both already acknowledged the shagging was bound to occur. He might not know Angela, but he knew Charles and...well.* With an audience? *he smirked* Luce, naughty.

Angela: *There was always a sway in her step, she promised, but she might have, might, be half putting on a show.* Sounds lovely. *Obviously of special import to Frederick and Lucy by the tone.* It's been a hobby of mine since I was younger. I've never stayed in one place for over a year and I like to be able to go back and look at the photographs of the different places I've been, people I've met. *she turned pointedly and as she kept walking backwards, she winked at him before she snapped one of Charles and turned around again* And it's my self assigned day of reprieve *she laughed* all work and no play makes me a veryyyy, tense person. *she rolled her shoulders and her neck, grinning innocently* I like to unwind.

Frederick: *Well, he could tell why Charles was attracted to her at least. Shaking his head, he moved through trees and over roots, already undoing the cap off the whiskey*

Lucy: *She laughed, knowing very well that he was aware she had meant later. Instead she lifted her free hand, his silver bracelet dangling off it as she closed a palm over the silver crucifix.* Lord forgive me. *She murmured in pennance, playful, continuing* And lead us not into temptation...*eyes still on Rick before looking around to Angela*

Charles: *He had only smirked, thinking--oh, he had a vivid imagination already. Hearing Lucy, he said swiftly,* Whyever not? *A meadow. Really. With daisies...well, as long as Angela liked it, he supposed he did not care. Still...oh he needed to drink immediately.*

Lucy: *listening curiously, her smile widened even as there was a flash of sadness that gripped her a moment. She knew who Angela reminded her of. Karyn. Softer,* That sounds like quite the remarkable photo collection...must be so exciting!

Charles: *He had other ideas that were excitin--no as she rolled her neck, he just had other ideas. Amused, he said instead,* Speaking of unwinding. *He reached for the whiskey once Rick had a swig (and had offered to Lucy of course), he naturally spun to offer it to Angela, innocent* After you, milady.

Lucy: *She grins, tugging on Rick to pull them towards a log to sit, saying innocently herself, more to distract* What's your favorite thing to photograph?

Frederick: *Merlin help him, but hearing Lucy suddenly all "repentant" and pious was only making him smirk wider. He leaned in to quickly whisper-* He won't, but I will *before they were joined, his expression smug still*

Angela: *She was sorely tempted to photograph them again- their different sides; naughty and nice. They were newlyweds, honestly. Meanwhile, Charles had two settings as well: naughty and naughtier. She found she rather liked that.* I've managed to keep nearly all of them, but the especially artistic or scientific, I've managed to sell. *reaching Frederick and Lucy's meadow, she smiled honestly. It truly was quite lovely, very green, very...peaceful, she could understand the appeal. Angela briefly wondered where exactly they might have fucked (for they must have surely) when she was interrupted by the bottle of whiskey being passed to her* I'm your lady am I? *she asked playfully before bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a swig. Yum. Delicious.*

Frederick: *His family honestly was something else. Three times, they had proclaimed to bring -him- food or drink, and thrice they had enjoyed it as well. Sitting down with Lucy on the log after taking a chug of the whiskey and offering Lucy a sip, he took her hand again.*

Angela: *sitting down on the grass after throwing Charles a challenging look, she answered with a smile on her face* Landscapes.

Frederick: Unsurprising answer for a cartographer. *he added his own input, however obvious and brief it was.*

Angela: *she laughed* I know, but it's a personal preference. People as well but only when they're not posing.

Lucy: *Knowing smile crossing her lips, she only lifted her shoulder in an innocent little shrug. Yet as they sat she managed to tuck her feet to the side, spread the skirt to sweep one way to look demure, and bounce the silver cross to a more prominent position.* That's impressive. *As was Charles at the moment.*

Charles: *chuckles once, eyes trailing over her as she sits, there was a nonchalant amusement in them he did not shake even as he sat beside her (cross legged).* If you'll permit it, of course. The courtesy has little to do with bloodline, honestly. *he'd said that before, but it stuck odd in his throat until he realized...it was because he honestly meant it now. Rick was still a Lord to him whatever Uncle Cyrus said.*

Lucy: *she looks sideways at Charles smiling, heartened but only says,* I have always found I enjoy watching the way the sky breaks over hills and mountains...but then, I haven't had the opportunity to see much else. *curious, toying with the necklace* Where are you from?

Charles: *The wicked smirk was back.* Posing?

Frederick: *Oh, Luce, he thought to himself, a small smirk on his lips at her subtle movement before taking the bottle back from his cousin and taking another swig.*

Angela: *She shrugged.* It's a hobby, made much easier by the fact that I had such easy access to the brightest minds of our world. *Her grandfather had been one of them, God rest his soul. Turning to Charles as he sat next to her, she was again surprised by his words.* While I do enjoy my name leaving your mouth, who am I to disallow you from courtesies? Carry on.

Frederick: *It was getting significantly more difficult to keep snorts and smirks at bay, and he found himself constantly looking sideways to Lucy as Charles continued to surprise again and again. He offered her the bottle silently, though his gaze dropped to her neckline as she started to toy with her cross. He was destined for eternal damnation wasn't he? He found that if that was the case, he didn't care much.*

Angela: *She nodded at Lucy's explained imagery. It was a rather pretty sight, the sun rising always was, but she foundit even more breathtaking watching it rise on the horizon from the middle of the sea* My mother's womb. *she laughed* It's honestly the most accurate answer I can give. I supposed technically I was born in Belgium...or was it Germany? *she shrugged* Either way, a month later I was elsewhere. *turning to Charles again she put her hands on her hips, lifted her chest and raised her chin to provide an example.* Posing. Can't stand it. I prefer people in their natural, raw state.

Lucy: *Well aware of where Frederick's gaze was captured, she only smirked, leaning back on the log and planting her other hand hard into the wood. Still surprised by everything Charles was saying, she only cocked an eyebrow at him. Were it not a abundantly obvious that Angela would not be fooled, she would have thought he was just saying things. It was odd to watch, as though she was seeing herself and Rick from the outside.* I must confess Charles, I did not know courtesy was something you possessed. *She wiggled a brow at him.*

Charles: *shrugs momentarily discomforted, then sees her teasing smirk. Oh that--ha. Pleased, he said lightly,* Perhaps you should not judge before you truly know them.

Lucy: *Barely repressing her snort, her lips parted in her smirk,* Wise words indeed.

Charles: *Utterly curious as Angela explained, he laughed as she started posing, unable to help himself from thinking of other poses he would prefer. And yet. Odd, he thought, the haughty look was attractive too.* Well, I have to say I prefer that too. *A brow wiggled.*

Lucy: What are you doing at the Faye court then? *It slipped. She bit her bottom lip, determined not to look back at Charles a moment and said lighter,* Well I suppose it is quite the landscape on its own.

Frederick: *Laughing once as Lucy teased Charles, he cleared his throat and smirked unapologetically at his younger cousin for the entertainment he was providing.*

Angela: *Holding back a delighted giggle, she turned back to look at Lucy at her question, thinking with amusement to herself "to find my fath er and learn magic."* Photography is my hobby, cartography is my job. The situation is that every day the world gets smaller and smaller. With telegrams, established post offices, trains and automobiles, there's almost no corner of the world left unexplored. Already the number of people traveling for leisure is increasing- maps will be in demand. Lovely rural areas such as Faye wont be mapped by others, who would normally overlook it- that's where I come in. *she grins, thinking to herself how easy it might be to actually believe her on story* And also because the archives lack of recent copy of a map of this area, and a committee will pay a healthy amount for it.

Lucy: *Oh, thank God. Grateful that Angela chose to take her statement to ask only after her official purpose, and not as she'd meant. If there was any place more posturing than the Faye court, Lucy would be startled. For instance, they purported to be made of propriety, restraint and nobility. Yet there was a darkness beneath that glittering facade made of murder and lies. A single scratch with a scarlet nail revealed it was only paint. Brightly, Lucy responded while her fingers bit the log and groped for comfort in Rick's grasp.* That must be fascinating, getting to see so many different places.

Charles: *He knew what Lucy had meant, but he couldn't at that moment forced himself to care. Angela's smile took on many forms: seductive, coy, knowing, playful. In fact he thought the only one he had not seen was one made of honesty. It became imperative he did in an instant.* How did you hear of Faye? *curious; considering they usually were left alone from non-magical travelers unless they lived in neighboring counties. He took another swig.* And what do you really think so far? *His smile was knowing now: thinking what a mess the county was in.* You aren't exactly seeing us at our best...

Lucy: England isn't at it's best. *Quietly with a shrug, looking for another drink without once releasing Rick.*

Charles: *His grin lifted,* True.

Lucy: *amused* Why Charles, are you asking for true opinions of this court? Sure you can handle that level of vulgarity?

Charles: *snorts* Somehow I think I will manage, Lucy. *adds lightly* And we won't repeat it.

Lucy: *Now she does snort.* Who would I tell anyway Charles?

Angela: Fascinating as well as exhausting. *she chuckled and then shifted to lay on her stomach, holding her head up with her hands, legs up in the air* I saw the outdated map digging around in the archives. I wouldn't have heard of it otherwise. *she took the bottle from Charles once he took a swig, and had a drink of her own before passing it back to Lucy.*

Frederick: *He snorted, thinking what an understatement that really was, especially after the news he had just received only a half an hour ago.* Oh no, Charles is used to vulgarity, Lucy.

Angela: Well *she wiggled her eyebrows* that doesn't surpriseme, more than a few of you in court are quite vulgar behind your manners. The ladies at court *she whistled* quite a handful. Always trying to trick or embarrass me in some way. most of the men superimpose their authority, comment on my youth, how shameful it is for a young woman not only to work, but todisplay her calves! *she laughed* All without saying it outright of course. But there's no hiding the look in their eyes- most are personally offended by my presence, some loathe me. It's truly a deceptive, deceitful, sinful and exhausting environment. *she shrugged and them grinned wickedly* I love it.

Lucy: *Angela, when they found Karyn --when--, truly had to meet her. Yet there was someone else she suddenly thought would get along with her well: Jane. Considering his expression, she decided not say that to Charles. She just laughed.* That summed it up fairly well, yes.

Charles: *Smirk breaking open, tongue darting to wet a dry bottom lip, he winked at Angela.* Only destined to become more devious the longer you stay. *That may have had a double meaning but--oh, did that prove his point?*

Lucy: *Her free hand darted and stole another piece of the Danish.Lightly, as thought afraid to commit to it and yet needing it,* Perhaps not entirely true though. If Joseph is elected...

Charles: Yeah, maybe. *Definitely, not something he wanted to think about. Politics. Boring.*

Frederick: *chuckling, he realized with small amusement that Lucy wasn't the only one among them that would do well in court. By the sounds of it, Angela seemed to be doing well already. He wondered if briefly if she would ever be aware of the magic, aware of how bad things actually were and found himself hoping that for her sake, she didn't.*

Angela: I sure hope so...*she grinned before turning around to lay on her back instead, folding her arms behind her head, she looked back at Lucy who was now upside down to her, at the mention of Joseph.* You know Joseph? I've met with him a few times, he has a wit that matches mine. *she laughed a little knowing it was her wit that matched his.*

Lucy: *Leaning back closer to Rick, she stole another piece of Danish. Whiskey, pecan, and maple tasted good together. Odd, the different kind of nutty flavors almost inherently reminded her of...well, Rick actually. It was a familiar taste. Her head nestled against his arm at the thought. Amused as Angela laid down, she answered nonchalant* I met him once...more know him from Leah.

Charles: *Oh. That was a lovely image. He smirked, hand going to tweak his ear, remind him he was awake. Frowning an instant at the thought--there was some tenderness in her voice as she said Joseph's name--he reminded herself how much older he was than them. Old enough to be her father really. He shrugged through a swig, still enjoying the sudden view* Leah's a few years younger than him, but he kind of adopted and mentored her when at boarding school. He's decent.

Lucy: More than decent, really, if what she said was even half true.

Charles: *pause* I tended not to listen, honestly, his stories tend to...*all he did was whistle, and smirk again*

Frederick: *he smiled honestly as Lucy laid her head on his arm, only afterwards remembering to pay attention to the conversation.* Joseph's alright. Came to speak with me personally after he proposed to my sister Marietta, assure me he had no intentions in using her. *he snorted at how ridiculous that sounded; as if Etta would ever let herself be used. The other amusing thing was the bit of information he learned in that conversation as well, though that he kept to himself of course.*

Angela: *She enjoyed hearing about Joseph through different people- they all said different things even if they amounted to almost the same thing: he was a good man. Grinning, she shrugged again and held her hand out for the bottle* I find him fascinating, nearly as fascinating as he finds me. *she was smug, obviously. She never imagined Joseph might actually be interested in her -before- she revealed the truth, if only because of how self absorbed nobles could be but she should have realized that she was her, of course she would be fascinating.* I met Marietta too, she's wonderful. Almost a shame she's getting married really, we could have caused so much trouble, your sister and I.

Frederick: *he smirked, thinking to himse suave, yes...and yet, honestly not my type. *Oh God, how was she refraining from laughing?*

Frederick: *You're not his type either, he wanted to say but instead he chuckled, took a sip of the drink and passed it to Angela's waiting hand. He exhaled at Lucy's comment, shaking his head* God, I hope not. I'm still holding on to the minuscule belief that marriage will keep in her check.

Angela: *holding her head up to take a swig of the whiskey, she licked her lips afterwards and grinned* I hope not. She's one of the few women who tolerate me. *she wiggled, trying to get more comfortable* Can't imagine why the others don't.

Lucy: *The rumbling in his chest as he laughed was soothing. Or perhaps it was the three (four?) quick swigs of whiskey that went down with a burn, warming her. Still, God she loved to hear Rick laugh. God, she loved seeing him happy and relaxed.* They do. The Faye ego may actually be losing it's first place. *Her eyebrows wiggled.*

Charles: *He laughed--then realized...that was his family too. Narrow eyes locked on Lucy with playful irritation.* Careful, Lucy.

Lucy: Sorry Charles--sorry, love. *she cast her gaze up at Rick still merely playful* Did I damage your ego?

Charles: *Eyes snapping back to Angela as she wiggled, his playful irritation only grew more serious with each adjective. No, he definitely did not like the sound of them. Even if she ended saying she had no interest.* Good. *He nodded, teasing with a sudden arrogance,* You should only have the absolute best.

Lucy: *Oh, how she wanted to say --'Rules you out then, Charles,' -- but they had not genuinely sniped at one another the entire conversation and...well, she did not want to ruin it. Instead she answered Rick with a chuckle of her own.* Miniscule? I would believe no larger than absolute zero. *She winked, agreeing with Angela and then adding softer,* That's awful. You are always welcome to come see me. *tiny pause* Us. *She just nods at Rick.*

Frederick: *He smirked, shaking his head once.* Not at all, love. I don't think that's actually possible, anymore. *he paused and them added* That's not an invitation for you to try.

Angela: *Oh, Charles' hint of annoyance were so delicious. It made his brows furrow and his chin clench enough to see a tiny cleft; made her want to bite on it. She sighed and then waved her hand* Oh, sugar, I gave up on "the best" a long time ago. *The slightly damaged made much better lovers, usually.* Both of you? At once? My pleasure. *Oh, whoops, the alcohol might have been affecting her...well, then again maybe not, that was rather docile of her.*

Lucy: No promises. That was just so -*her pinky sticks out as she resumes toying with the cross, smirking*- tempting, an invitation love.

Charles: *Sugar? Oh, the exotic accent had other perks to look forward too. He leaned back himself so his back hit the log, keeping his eyes on Angela and rather wishing he could have laid with him. Or on her. Grinning, he said easily,* Ah, shame. I believe you may have stopped a tad too soon...*he waves a hand to mime it made no difference, only to startle at her suggestion*

Lucy: *wrinkling her eyebrows in surprise, she cleared her throat* Eh--wai- that--wasn't--

Charles: Your pleasure? Truly? *Oh, he wasn't picturing Lucy and Rick there but a others...*

Frederick: *He had dug himself into that hole, but it wasn't a bad one to be in honestly. As his gaze traveled down to enjoy the view, he realized with a smirk, it was the exact opposite. Looking away in surprise, eyebrows rising as he turned to look at Angela. Smirking a moment, he looked back to Lucy and kissed the side of her head as she stammered. It was cute.*

Angela: *Right, of course, she forgot for a moment they were all British. But their expressions were so priceless, she couldn't resist laughter at this point. Rolling around and laying on her stomach to look at them better, she giggled a final time before answering* My truly, absolute pleasure. *she grinned* But I know you didn't mean it like that, I was teasing. *she smirked* I apologize for being so forward.

Lucy: *Her stammers were cut off by Rick's lips pressing against the side of her head. It was a gesture she recognized as when he found her particularly endearing, but soothed her regardless. Her cheeks were bound to be pinking again, but she murmured,* Oh. Of course.

Charles: *His hand waved off instantly,* No need to apologize for that. *smirking at the image conjured, knowing full well she did it on purpose, watching her roll over.* Comfortable? *If she kept wiggling like that, he was going to be distinctly uncomfortable soon.*

Frederick: *Grinning for a split second, he turned his head a fraction to whisper only for Lucy to hear* I wouldn't share you with anyone, love. *Not with even attractive women whom he felt posed no threat.*

Angela: No. *she wiggled her eyebrows, grin on her face, before perching her chin on the palm of her hand.* Corsets are never comfortable, these trousers stick to my thighs, and honestly the weather is too hot for boots but nothing else matched the outfit. *she closed her eyes and smiled* I'm currently imagining my next bath instead, much more appealing.

Lucy: *As Rick's voice filled her ear, the world seemed to melt away. Amused by the assertion that in some way it would be he that was threatened by such an activity (though her cheeks pinked further), she lifted his arm so she could meld to his side instead. Wrapping his arm around her side, she shook her head pointed.* I'm not going anywhere, Rick. *Her whisper was quieter, but honestly it didn't matter. Charles and Angela were playing.* Nor am I sharing you. Though speaking of a bed. Perhaps we ought to leave them be...and find one.

Charles: *Distinctly uncomfortable appeared to be her goal actually. Barely suppressing a groan at the back of her throat at the mere word bath', he asked with his eyes still locked on hers. Sudden concern was in her voice.* Corset--you aren't having trouble breathing, milady? *As her eyes shut, he only widens his grin.* Angela? Don't pay that price for beauty. If you acquire any further beauty, I am genuinely concerned the instant you walk through a door, you will blind me. *His brows wiggled taking another heavy swig and then capping it to toss it in--er--Rick's general area.* In fact, if you're so uncomfortable, I would be more than happy to help you out of it.

Frederick: *licking his lips at her suggestion, he threw a brief glance towards Charles and realized he wouldn't be bothered in the slightest. Picking up the bottle that had been discarded by Charles, he nodded with a smirk* Sounds like a plan.

Angela: *Oh he was quite good. Fake concern for her health, compliment on her beauty- very good. She opened her eyes to look at him, tilting her head to the side, her grin "innocent"* Could you, Charles? *she bit her lip* I would so appreciate that- the laces are so difficult to undo.

Lucy: *Giggling under her breath, she saw his quick look over to Charles and said lightly,* I believe they forgot we exist. Once we denied her ... request. *Slipping her hand down his back so she can keep one hand toying with her necklace as they stand, waving as they started walking, she added sweetly* I think you're tempting God with some of those thoughts enough today, aren't you?

Charles: *Half noticing they left, he just nodded at Rick with a tiny smirk. His hand came up to wave at Lucy, and then came promptly down as he slipped on his knees in front of her.* I am never one to deny a beautiful lady. down as he slipped on his knees in front of her.* I am never one to deny a beautiful lady. *his brow wiggles as he says simply,* Turn around.

Frederick: *nodding at Charles, unable to keep a smirk off his face, he turned to look back at Lucy, grinning wide and chuckling under his breath, this time he was the one tracing her necklace idly* I would think so.

Angela: *wiggling her eyebrows, she licked her like before commenting.* Beautiful, yes. Lady, in any connotation? *she shook her head with a smirk on her face* Not at all. *she turned around then, moving her hair out of the way*

Lucy: *Pads of his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin where her throat met her chest, trailing down a groove as he traced her necklace. Her giggle was throaty.* Rick, we're not halfway to a bed yet. *Not...that that had stopped them in the past, she thought as her own fingers slipped to rub a circle on his wrist. It occurred to her the stables were close by, gaze flitting in that direction over a wicked smirk, despite calm words,* I am curious--is there something in particular about it being a cross?

Charles: *Smirk widening as she turned, he paused a moment to inhale, intoxicated by a spice from the luxurious, brunette curls. Sure hands lifting, he chuckled once under his breath, mming in agreement as he dusted curls back. Leaning forward an inch while he gently, ran both sides up curves in her sides, gliding over the thin chemise, cupping her neck and massaging her shoulders as he hissed, hot against her ear,* I suppose not, Angela. *He snapped free the top hook at the base of her neck, fingers brushing the nape.* I'll rephrase...*A hand was slipping forward now to the ties on her chest, nose buried in her hair as he breathed heady,* I shall *He loosened the top ties slow, plucking through loops*...never deny...*The vest popped as he expected it would when loose, what it held squashed in place too tempting. One hand still tangling in her curls, the other brushed down to gently meet skin atop her chest, rubbing in a tiny circle as he breathed directly in her ear,* Angela. *He stayed like that a lengthy minute, massaging her neck and exploring grooves along her chest, daring to caress between them slowly--ever so slowly as his other hand travelled to join it. Palms gliding up in a circle, he took hold of two sides, still breathing against the shelf of her ear, tickling the lobe with his tongue until there was a sudden -- rip.* Angela. *He repeated as the two free pieces dropped into the grass on either side of her. He kissed her neck once, twice, three times, her throat, her shoulder, hands snaking around her waist to hold her, thumbs braced at the top of her ribs, restlessly sliding back and forth.* Beautiful Angela..

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-three: 2} lucy, rick, mitchell

Mitchell: *throwing the bag of coins up in the air and catching it, he whistles a merry tune as he walks through the outskirts of the woods near town, delivering the money they've 'earned' to their friends and family. His next stop was Lucy. Quieting as neared her house, not wanting to alert her parents if she wasn't there. Peering around the trees, he saw outside hanging the laundry and thought it was as opportune a moment as any. Walking up quietly, using the sheets she had already hung as cover, he peeked his head above the clothesline and grinned* Boo. *he tossed the bag of coins into the basket she was carrying and wiggled his eyebrows before moving the bedsheet aside* Elo, Luce. Fancy meeting you here!

Lucy: Mitchell! *Her giggle turned into a shout of surprise, only kept soft by her lack of breath.* What are y-- *Eyes widening as she looked down at the sack of silver coins now sitting in her basket, she smiled an instant.* Thanks. For..*she bit her lip aware of her own irony*...robbing. *The weight of it was nice in her palm; for a brief moment she imagined what she might be able to get Rick, before realizing, Rick. Her head snapped back up,* Wait, Mitch you can't be h--*Too late.*

Frederick: *At least Lucy's parents trusted him enough to let him into their home. It was small progress, but it was progress nonetheless. He didn't even need to be reminded to volunteer to help with their chores now. That's what he was doing, helping hang the laundry; he didn't like it, he never would really, but that didn't mean he wouldn't help. He had gone inside to get more clothespins as Lucy asked but he had momentarily forgotten where they put them. In the end, he just looked around to make sure he was alone and accio'ed them to him, and started back outside* Where was I? *he smirked with his back to Lucy for a moment as he closed the door* Right! You should have seen the amount of filth he trudged up the- what is he doing here?!

Mitchell: *His jaw dropping immediately as he saw the midget lord exit out of Lucy's house, with clothespin in his hands, Mitchell didn't know what to make of it at first. Turning to Lucy, he asked simultaneously with Frederick* What the bloody hell is he doing here?

Lucy: She was cut off again hearing the door swinging open to produce a back she usually had to admit a certain fondness for. Under her breath she had barely exhaled,* Oh hell,* before they had already spotted each other. Dropping the basket and bag at once she held a hand out, breath suddenly heavy.* Wait, boys, don't--

Frederick/Mitchell: Leave!/Git!

Frederick: Luce-

Mitchell: Lucy *turns to Frederick with an eyebrow raised and repeats* Luce?!

Frederick: *ignoring Mitchell for the time being, eyes on Lucy* What's the meaning of this, what's going on?

Lucy: *They weren't listening to her, despite the fact that they both turned to her next. Wincing, her voice gave out seeing their mutual fury and anger. She only got out,* Rick, he -*before Mitchell cut her off again.*

Mitchell: *looking at Luce as well* Why does he call you Luce? What's he doing here?!

Lucy: *Eyes darting to his, the look in them softened at the question. That was a happier thought.* Because, Mitch, he's--*This time Rick cut her off, apparently unable to help a smart remark.*

Frederick: That's rich. Coming from a criminal on the run.

Mitchell: What are you gonna do, Brackner? Call up your little guards to come help you? *mimics* Guards! Guards! I can't fight my own battles, get rid of him for me!

Lucy: *She shut her eyes only an instant, but when they fluttered open once more they were closer to each other and neither seemed to be looking at her at all now.* Oh, fuck. *Curse falling freely from her lips, her head was light, breath hot, and frowning with wariness.

Frederick: *grits his teeth, turning back to him all but spitting out* Watch what you say Stone. I could defeat you blindfolded with both my hands tied behind my back.

Mitchell: *mocking* Scary. *turns back to Lucy* Care to explain?!

Frederick: *exasperated, he snaps* I'm with her.

Mitchell: *rolls his eyes* Obviously, I was concerned at first, midget, but now I know you're aware of spatial relations, I'm so relieved.

Frederick: *arches his eyebrow* Spatial relations? Don't choke on your tongue trying to use that kind of vocabulary.

Mitchell: Better idea! *he takes a step forward, glaring* How about I choke you instead?

Frederick: *takes a step forward as well* I'd like to see you try.

Lucy: *She was an instant from explaining when Rick answered for her again, and she decided she'd flatly had enough - especially when Mitchell stepped forward threatening to choke him.* Enough! *It took her three steps to his one, but she wedged herself between both of them, one hand going to each chest, smacking to place before holding, not frankly caring they were twice as big as her. Void of amusement or patience, she looked at Rick first free of words as well. Eyes narrow and lips thin, she shook her head between them, snapping to both at once,* Do you want an answer? Or would you rather be big men trying to prove an idiotic point, covered in bruises and with a black eye? *Her hands curled into fists on their chests, head jerking back and forth between them as she snapped,* Don't think I won't either. *Waiting a lengthy pause and breathing hard from the effort of keeping between them and the force in her voice, she shook her head very slowly. Without the strength to hold them back anymore, she slipped between, back hitting Rick's chest, gaze hard on Mitchell's.* He's with me. Not the fact he's standing there, with me. *A brow arched, incredulous,* Hector didn't tell you? Huh. *Her voice softened.* Actually, that's kind of nice, not having the entire world suddenly privy to our private decision...*Right, but, focus.*

Mitchell: *Lucy certainly had quite the bit of strength for being such a tiny little thing. Though his eyes remained narrowed at the man now standing behind her even as he took a few steps back at Lucy's insistent shove. His meaning was clear: he could behave, for now.*

Frederick: *Snapped out of his anger by Lucy getting in the middle, he moved backwards immediately as she pushed, his eyes darting from Mitchell to Lucy. As she held his gaze, he pursed his lips, his shoulders seeming to drop a little, anger gone from his gaze. However, said anger returned when he looked at Mitchell again, he couldn't help it.*

Mitchell: *muttering* He'll be the one with the bruises-

Frederick: Oh shut up, Stone.

Mitchell: *eyes narrowing, he was stopped from another comment as he felt the hand at his chest turn into a fist. It seemed like an eternity passed before Lucy spoke up again, and all that Mitchell had done in the mean time was glare daggers, swords, bows, hammers, axes, machetes, any kind of sharp object, at Frederick. His eyes widened as he understood Lucy's meaning, jaw dropping again* You're -together-?! *That must have been what Hector had been trying to say about 'gossip', not that Mitchell paid attention* We've been a little busy

Frederick: Yeah *he snorts* I'll say.

Mitchell: *he narrowed his eyes immediately* Is this some kind of joke?

Frederick: What are you saying, Stone?

Mitchell: I'm saying one *he raised a finger* she's too good for you. Two *he raised another* you're a mysoginist prick and three *and another* you're a prejudice arsehole. *he lowered two fingers and left the middle one he had raised last pointed at him for a little longer*

Frederick: *his eyes had narrowed closer and closer with each point that Stone brought up, his eyes rolling at the last little gesture before he spoke up again* I've changed.

Mitchell: The power of love! *he raised his hands in the air* How charming.

Frederick: *he grits his teeth* It's the truth.

Mitchell: I don't believe you.

Frederick: And I don't give a fuck. *he raises his eyebrows* Lucy and I's relationship is ours and no one else's, so why don't you piss off?

Mitchell: *dryly* yes, I can see how much you've changed.

Lucy: *Her bare and brief nod when he got her meaning was overlooked a heartbeat later. Yes, busy was an understa--oh, Rick was saying it out loud. She winced again, shoulders falling near Rick's as she cast a glance back to him. Her teeth gritted as she heard Mitchell, swiveling back and saying under her breath* Can I not decide for myself? *Throwing a hand up herself it landed on her hip as Mitchell's throwaway, now thoroughly irritated -- with both of them, honestly, though at that particular moment Mitchell. Waiting a beat, eyes still narrow, she in an equal dry tone,* Well, you're not exactly giving him a chance either. *Exhale heated through her teeth, she dropped her gaze to the ground to steady herself before looking back up, voice insistent.* And neither of you are listening. You care about me? *Voice pitching as her eyes darted back and forth between them, she didn't wait for an answer.* Good, then shut up. This animosity ridiculous. And considering the real and serious danger out there right now, made especially idiotic. You're on the same side. *Now she looked to Rick, a little bit quieter, a hint of guilt in her tone.* You are. I told you he was innocent, and then I stopped talking about it just like you asked. *Shrugging a shoulder at the technicality, she admitted with the tiniest coy smirk,* Only I didn't stop believing it. *And more honestly,* Or wanting to help my friends, Rick. *She trapped her top lip a moment, keeping her bottom from trembling. A tiny bit quieter, without anger in her voice suddenly, she half-gasped,* And I'm damn near the only muggleborn left in this town. If we do not work together, if we do not support each other? There soon won't be any.

Mitchell: I'm giving him the exact amount of chances he's giving me *his eyes narrowed* and others like me, for nearly all his life.

Frederick: *dry* Didn't realize I hurt your feelings.

Mitchell: Shut yer mouth, aight?

Frederick: *They both stopped talking again as Lucy spoke up. Her question was rhetorical, for she knew the answer to that, at least his. Rick's eyes casted to the ground for a moment, not entirely willing to admit to the truth in her words. He was more than happy to continue the idiotic animosity.*

Mitchell: The same side? *he repeated incredulously* He's a pureblood! He's a Lord, midget Lord, but Lord all the same-

Frederick: Not anymore. *he hissed through his teeth, shaking his head.* Obviously, given that I'm here. *wearing clothes with almost as many holes in them than Mitchell's had. He turned to Lucy as she clarified her oh so subtle techinicality, actually it really was rather subtle and he was momentarily proud but otherwise annoyed. No one around him seemed to believe Mitchell and his friends guilty either.*

Mitchell: Ah, see? He doubts it even now! You honestly believe I've done everything they say I have?

Frederick: And all those robberies? *he gestured to the bag of money*

Mitchell: 'sides that. *pausing suddenly at Lucy's exclamation, he frowned. He didn't need a reminder of that, he lived with that knowledge every second of his life now, and it was all on him. Well...sometimes it felt like it was all on him.* I don't need his help.

Frederick: Good, because I won't help you. Guilty or not, we shouldn't even be seen with you! Do you have idea the risk you're putting us in? You're putting Lucy in by talking to her? Giving her this money?

Mitchell: She's already at risk! Because your bastard friends have made it their personal goal to wipe out muggleborns from existence!

Leah: *Still through gritted teeth,* You don't know him, Mitchell. *Heatedly,* I understand you've both hated each other since you were kids, and I don't care. Grow up. *And the moment he started saying he was a Lord she winced, hands gripping her waist harder to stifle the urge to hit him for saying it. He didn't know. And she needed to keep a cooler head. And neither reminder helped her feel better in the slightest.* Who gives a damn?!*She snapped it, voice pitching again, incredulous.* It's not about bloodline, Mitchell -- you know it doesn't define who you are! You don't know him anymore than he knows you. *As Rick hissed 'not anymore', she muttered,* If you would take two seconds - *she pinched her forefinger and thumb together, nose wrinkling* - to stop being so judgmental...you could see it yourself. *Lifting her hand to her forehead and rubbing hard as they continued, her eyes shut again, aggravated,* For merlinsakes, Rick -- *But she shut up, cutting off and tensing as they both snapped an obstinate refusal to help. Heart hammering in her chest, emotion passed through her gaze before she looked back at him, voice dropping to nearly nothing.* It's for my parents. *He was still speaking, so she went louder,* It's for my parents! *Sure, she took a silver for herself to get a pastry sometimes, and this particular bag she might have thought she could find a way to slip to Rick too, but the point stood. Breathing hard, she muttered,* We only have female horses right now, so we're getting no payment from siring, and then I..* looking over his shoulder*...I cost my Dad a rather important sale...*She looked back, swallowing hard,*.. that would have given us the money to acquire the male we had our eye on and - and then with the segregation meaning I can't go everywhere and some can't come to buy and-- *she clamps her teeth and eyes together, settling her breathing, shaking her head and letting it just die off. She knew it wasn't her fault they were struggling, but god it sure felt like it. Waiting a moment, by the time she had her eyes open she was calmer, gaze still soft on Rick's.* I appreciate the concern. But I know what I'm doing. *Her gaze snaps back to Mitchell's, voice arching up and suddenly glaring,* They aren't his fucking friends!

Mitchell: Oh, trust me, *he rolls his eyes* I know plenty.

Frederick: Is that so? *eyebrows rising* You know all about me, what defines me, the kind of person I am?

Mitchell: Yes, the kind of person you are is the kind of person that makes me sick. *he shrugs and then turns to Lucy again, exhaling in exasperation* Listen, I know you're all for 'forgive thy neighbor' and what not, but he's a bad person!

Frederick: What in the bloody hell have I ever done to you?!

Mitchell: *he cuts off as Lucy starts again, repeating something he had missed. He was glad that there was some good use being put to this money they so valiantly robbed. Or rather earned by selling robbed items. He sensed that there was something about costing her dad a sale that Mitchell didn't understand, but he had more important things on his mind now.*

Frederick: *he pursed his lips hard, passing his tongue over them to wet them as they suddenly went dry. It was a difficult situation that they were in, Rick knew that, and he knew her parents were suffering for it, a lot of people were but that wasn't his fault. Lucy knew that, but Mitchell, oh he seemed to just want to place the world's problems strictly on his shoulders. Reluctantly nodding his head at Lucy's assurance that she knew what he was doing, he turned his head back to Mitchell, about to say something when instead Lucy spoke up for him.*

Mitchell: No? *he was so furious he wasn't even registering the fact that the usual sweet, docile, and good natured Lucy was cursing like a sailor. He turned to look at Rick directly.* Robert Estbury? Benjamin Stenrosa?

Frederick: *he narrowed his eyes* What are you trying to say, Stone?

Mitchell: I'm saying, I don't trust you.

Frederick: The feeling's mutual.

Mitchell: Glad we got that sorted.

Leah: Plenty. *It was dry, and she scoffed in disdain* You don't know anything. *And for the love of God, the entire world was just plainly not allowed to insult Rick thus around her.* Anything. And you're such a good one, Mitchell Stone?! *Forcing herself to bite her tongue, she hissed as she took her own thought literally. It was for the best. Insure the only blood she saw was from her lip, not from them hitting each other, for she was seeing plenty red already. Breathing out and in, as she rubbed at her face, her hair came loose in the wind, blowing in time with the sheets half pinned beside them.* God, just -- *Brow arching high, her words were quiet, hands falling from her face once more.* Are any of us innocent in this anymore? *Only then she flinched, hearing the names, wrists snapping crossed over her arms and rubbing hard to keep herself steady.* They're dead, Mitchell. And Rick doesn't know anything about what they did. *Her chin came up, gaze flicks sideways to Rick, certain. After a moment looking at him, she continued on quieter,* But I trust both of you, and I'm going to tell him. *Her eyes narrowed back at Mitchell, half daring him to challenge her, half pleading he just understand with her gaze.*

Mitchell: *Oh! Now all of a sudden he was the bad guy?! Because he was telling the truth? Frederick Brackner was a right foul git, he always had been. Just because he had given up his title and was with Lucy...actually, he still hadn't completely processed that yet, as it was probably the most shocking thing he had ever heard in his life. Good God, what was Brackner even wearing?*

Frederick: *He was confused now. He knew Robert and Benjamin were dead, Benjamin at the hands of the man standing in front of them right now, but as far as what they had done, Rick didn't have a clue. Looking between Mitchell and Lucy as she said the last, his brows furrowed* Tell me what? *he glared at Mitchell* You've been having her keep something from me?

Mitchell: Information on a need-to-know basis, and you haven't needed to know. *he glared at him, but looked back at Lucy. For fuck's sake, she was going to tell him everything anyways, whether he approved or not.* Hope you know what you're doing?

Frederick: *he repeated, aggravated* Tell me what?

Lucy: No, he hasn't. *She said it instantly, flinching at her own thought. Guilt and determination ringing through her voice and expression, she kept her eyes on Rick, softer,* He didn't make me do anything, none of them did, Rick. *Her eyes flick back to Mitchell, every muscle tense. Keeping her eyes locked on him while she nodded just briefly, saying softer.* I didn't have to be told. *It wasn't her secret, she had thought, but the truth was it was all of theirs, all of them who had the unlucky fortune in this godforsaken town and court to be magical but not noble born. She had wanted Mitchell's approval, if only because it was him they targeted first, but it wasn't required -- Rick needed to know, because as long as he was with her...* He's in danger too now, Mitch. *She didn't realize at first she had even said it aloud; her eyes had flicked back to Rick, watery and hazy. Her fingers pressed bruises into her arms. Breathless, she murmured,* Long as you're with me, because you'll...*Her eyes shut as a green light streaked across her memory, feeling his arms lock around her once more and drag her down. She took a shaky breath. She opened her eyes.* Which is not changing if I have anything to say about it. *Biting her tongue an instant and looking hesitantly between Mitchell and Rick, she finally just decided to say it, hair flying furiously across her lips and cheeks in the wind while she took a step closer to Rick.* Wyatt and Brianna Larson were murdered in front of Mitchell. In front of Arthur and Ken. *Fighting to keep her lip from a tremor turned out to be oddly easy, almost calmed just to be able to able to say it aloud.* And they were brilliant. Really, truly, the best people you could ever meet. *Water still floating in her eyes, she looked to Mitchell a heartbeat, and then back, needing the comfort Rick provided just by standing in front of her listening to her, whatever his expression.* Bri didn't even have magic. Wyatt did. *Her voice shook a second, but an odd calm had come over her expression.* And they were all together having a laugh, when a half dozen noblemen and maybe women, masked and cloaked in black, imploded in, murdered them, lit the house on fire. One ripped off the mask to show that they'd glamoured to look like Mitchell, but other than that I don't know. I didn't know this until Karyn told me what Arthur had told her and well, by then Rick, we'd...*Luce trailed off hesitantly, cleared her throat, shook her head and lifted her chin.* Doesn't matter. *Her voice was stronger.* What does, is the fact that evidence points to both Robert and Benjamin as having been there, and Bradford West was killed that night too by Wyatt, but beyond that...there are four, five, maybe even six or more men and women out there who have absolutely no bones about killing every last one of us. *Her jawline hardened, saying pointed and fierce, a hard glint in her eye as if they were suddenly sapphires,* And the fact the bastards are clever enough to make it look like it was us. Just being deranged, psychotic, muggleborns. *She looked back to Mitchell, quiet for a moment as she knew a few other things: Leah's involvement, for example, and Karyn had said something about a brand but neither mattered right now, and neither were hers to tell. Then she looked back to Rick, hands falling from her shoulders and saying simply,* So they're fighting back.

Mitchell: *Mitchell almost wanted to say "good" to Lucy's comment of Rick being in danger now too. But he didn't say anything, he was actually interested to see how Brackner handled this piece of news.*

Frederick: *He frowned but his expression softened as he saw the state Lucy was in now as she prepared to tell him, and he took a step closer to her, placing his hands on her arms; he was ignoring Mitchell entirely now. He remembered comforting her about her friends' tragic deaths...however at that time he had thought he was also helping her through the betrayal of the man standing not five feet away. The story seemed...ludicrous for a moment, until he was able to recall some comments made by Robert and Benjamin that were...starting to make much more sense. Regardless, he knew that if it was anyone but Lucy telling him the story, he'd have a hard time believing it. He swallowed a lump in his throat, his worry over Lucy increasing. Biting his bottom lip, he took her hands as they fell.* And you? Are you fighting back too?

Mitchell: Obviously she's been stealing with us, Brackner *he rolled his eyes and then narrowed his eyes* So you didn't know anything about this?

Frederick: Are you accusing me of murder?

Mitchell: Conspiracy. Possibly.

Frederick: Hate to disappoint your rather antagonistic view of me, but I had no idea. *he paused a moment as he realized this wasn't the first time he had been accused of the exact same thing; he frowned.*

Lucy: *Frederick's hands have an uncanny ability to instantly soothe (or all right, excite, depending on their mood). Lucy loves them. She loves how large they are, how his grasp could swallow her tiny fingers as if trying to meld her to be a part of him. How they hungered, seemed empty if they weren't embracing her. Eyes staying on their tangled fingers, she answers soft,* Not explicitly, no. *Her gaze lifts to hold his, eyes hooded.* That doesn't mean I wouldn't if the opportunity presented itself. I happen to think I am better suited for diplomacy than the battlefield. God willing, such skills will be necessary, Rick. *Exhale hot, she continues without blinking,* And in a way I have, yes. As I haven't, and won't, tell the Sheriff a single thing. *She searches his gaze as well as her mind, trying to think if there was anything else: she hated the idea of keeping anything from him now that he had asked.* Oh. I sent a basket of food too after the ball, and before it Arthur climbed into my room. *Heart dropping into her stomach at the memory as she thought again of the last time she had seen Arthur, and where he was now, she breathed out without thinking,* Tried to convince me not to wear the dress and asked me who the lucky guy was. *Squeezing his hands, Luce quieted a moment, wary for how Rick would process everything even if he had been aware of her friendships with all of them already. Then she bit down hard, gaze flicking between them, decidedly letting them bicker a moment.* All right. So, see? *firm* Both of you were wrong about the other. Could you stop accusing each other of willful murder? *Her eyes narrowed,* Or is rationality too much to ask for?

Frederick: *his lips lifted momentarily in amusement as Lucy revealed herself to be "better suited for diplomacy", thinking to himself (and not for the first time) how well she would have excelled at court if things had been different. He simply nodded, understanding her, obviously she wouldn't betray her friends, and she would feed them and help them whenever she could. He couldn't tell her to stop, he wouldn't tell her to stop.*

Mitchell: *He much rather chew his own eyes out than continue to look at this, honestly. He didn't even understand it! This was Lucy! And that was...Brackner. He was still very much confused.* Yes, a bit too much right now given that laws of the universe have been rewritten for you two *he motioned to them* to ever work. I mean bloody hell, Lucy-

Frederick: I already told you it's none of your business, Stone.

Mitchell: Thank God, honestly. *he rolled his eyes* So.

Frederick: ...so?

Mitchell: So, there's a group of pureblood elitists trying to pick us off one by one. So, many of us have already died. So, Lucy is in constant danger-

Frederick: *snaps* I won't let anything happen to her.

Mitchell: *Well, that had to be the most honest and believable thing he had ever heard Frederick say* That's a start.

Lucy: *Rolling her eyes to look at the sky, hands still squeezing Rick's tighter, she lit with a blink. Shrewd narrowed eyes met Mitchell's confused ones. Actually, his expression was sort of adorable.* What? You believe a relationship between muggleborn and pureblood couldn't work? *Her brow arched at him slight, words clipped. Wishing momentarily that Leah actually was there, she stiffened at the sharp words, 'ah-ing' as Rick's grip tightened on hers suddenly, nails biting into his hand, she wrinkled her nose.* Excellent, how about you continue with using each other's names?

Mitchell: You know I don't believe that. *He snorted: obviously he didn't.* But you're you! And he's *gestures at Frederick again, and can't help but scowl* Brackner.

Frederick: How eloquently worded of you. *he rolled his eyes and loosened his grip (that he hadn't noticed he'd tightened), with an apologetic look towards Lucy.*

Mitchell: *simply* Brackner is his name.

Frederick: Technically, it isn't. *he shrugs* Part of the disownment thing, you see. *his eyes narrowed at Mitchell, annoyed that the man didn't seem to understand such obvious details. Could he be any more thick?*

Mitchell: *Oh...well, bugger. He wasn't midget lord anymore, he wasn't Brackner, what was Mitchell supposed to refer to him as now?* Got a middle name?

1.             Lucy: *her eyebrow arched in honest amusement as Mitchell stumbled for words as if there was a parrot on his shoulder snatching the words from his lips before he got them out. Nodding only once, her response was sweet and stout.* And we're us. *That was all there was to it, smiling honestly at Rick's wordless apology. She didn't care. The instant protective response was endearing. Sighing much as her mother did (oh bugger) at Mitchell's question, her words were weary.* I think you're missing the point, Mitch. *Though she leaned to whisper to Rick, proud she knew it,* Chaucer. *Only as she leaned did she realize she'd tightened her grip too, probably as he said the word 'disownment', though whether in reassurance or to seek comfort herself, she wasn't sure. Leaning back, she looked between them, stubborn as ever,* The only way to earn respect is to show it. That's the point. Unless I'm being insensitive--do either of you gave memory issues I'm unaware of?

Mitchell: *He didn't think he had seen a weirder couple. But to each their own...he supposed.*

Frederick: *snorting at Mitchell's question, he shook his head and then smirked briefly as Lucy whispered the answer in his ear. He didn't feel any particular way about his middle name but Lucy could make anything sound good.*

Mitchell: Actually, yes, you see a piece of roof fell on my head *he rubbed the back of his head* And I'm having memory problems now. In fact, where am I now? I think I should leave.

Frederick: The best thing you've said in this entire conversation.

Lucy: Rick. *It was instant, to his sarcasm. Her glance shot back to his irritated, shaking her head an inch.* Fine, I give, but Mitchell--*She let go, folding her arms over her chest as she took another step to Mitchell hesitant, chewing on her bottom lip with the tense gaze of one wary of bad news.* Is Karyn with you? Or did she send word? *Heart skipping a beat, she didn't look back at Rick, merely braced her shoulders, let her skirt whip around her ankles. Even quieter,* And is there anything I can do for Arthur? God, even if I could just slip him a blue rose, show we haven't forgotten him...*she paused: hold on, that one sounded plausible if she slipped it to Leah...which, speaking of which. She muttered so only Mitch could hear now,* And tell your...girl, Rick knows too.

Frederick: *he shrugged, unable to help his comment and not feeling particularly sorry about it either.*

Mitchell: *turning his attention to Lucy as she stepped up to him, it was with a frown and dropped shoulders that he shook his head* We haven't heard her from either. And we're going to get Arthur out, I promise. *he nodded and then paused at Lucy's addition and nodded reluctantly* Yeah, I'll tell her. *he leaned in to hug her once, and glare a little at Frederick over her shoulder as he did. Pulling back he added* Take care. *he added a short nod towards Frederick now that Lucy was watching, before he set off for the woods again*

Lucy: *Half through her nod before noticing she had even started, Lucy's next present thought wasn't until Mitchell hugged her. If Karyn was captured they'd know, she reminded herself. Like the snag in a cushion's stitching that one might perhaps accidentally rip when clenching their nails, there was another irritating thought bouncing around. If Karyn was fine, why wouldn't she send word? Where the hell was she? Closing her eyes tightly to put off grief, her fist closed around bunched fabric.* I'm sure you will. *Odd. Where she was certain there was no doubt in her heart, a hint was in her voice. She gritted her teeth, adding,* Just be careful, Mitch--all of you. Listen to Ken more. And...thanks. *Gesturing at the bag of silver, by the time she had looked up she was gone. Heartbeat scatter shot, she spun back to Rick still clutching her shoulders as if to ward a chill. The sun hit her eyes as she turned, mocking her caution.* ...are you angry with me? *She stepped forward anyway, preferring to be closer to him.*

Frederick: *nodding back to Stone as he left, and good riddance really, he turned back to look at Lucy as she approached. Shaking his head at her question, he took her hands* No, I'm not. *he paused a moment before asking* Why didn't you tell me before?

Lucy: *Heartened as he took her hands again, she tucked the silver into her dress before moving a few steps in, holding on tightly. Her brows furrow,* We've been...busy. You had so much on your mind already...I didn't want to...add more. And, we've been... *She started slowly, honestly with a little smile,* Happy. Unbelievably so. I guess I just...I never thought about it when with you. *Her lips flick, adding matter of fact.* You're purposefully very distracting you know. *She waits. Knowing that isn't everything, for when not distracted she would consider it, would think of telling him, and her voice tightens with a bit of wariness,* And...because Rick, you don't..like, my friends.

Frederick: *he nodded, capable of understanding her logic at least, and he couldn't deny that he did enjoy being happy whenever he was with her, which tended to be almost all the time when he wasn't working.* Not purposefully...well *he shrugs, smirking a little after licking his lips* not all the time. *He waited a little, seeing she still had something to say and then shrugged again after a pause* That doesn't mean I wouldn't have believed you, or supported you, you know. *he let's go of her hands to cup her neck* And they're not...all that bad. Karyn and Thomas...they're not as big pains as I thought they'd be...I dont know the others except Mitchell, but he -is- a pain, Luce. Always has been, and I know it's...maybe possibly a bit of my fault but it's also his, because he's a sod. *he shakes his head* Regardless, Luce...*he bites his bottom lip* I trust you.

Lucy: *Lifting herself as he cupped her neck nearly onto her toes, a smile lifted on reflex. Snaking a hand around his wrist, she nodded barely, not wanting to dislodge his hand. The earnest in his tone surprised and calmed her at once.* I know you'll always support me, Rick. And listen to me, I know that too. *There's a tiny pause.* When you aren't just watching my lips move. *She wiggles an eyebrow, but adds more seriously,* I also already know you'd do anything to protect me. *Her brows furrow.* I guess I just...didn't think you'd...care, that much. *Her lips press together, momentarily ignoring Mitchell to focus on the others, happier.* I like Charles too, you know. And Jane. Didn't think I would find someone who talked more than Karyn ever but. *She tilts her head.* And actually, Thomas said the same about you a few days back--not -that- bad. *A tiny bit hopeful,* In fact I think the town's pretty much settled. New things to gossip over...and they like you. Angelina and Henry's wedding will be a blast. And Esther? ...Have you thought about her offer? I know dinner was too hectic for her to do anything but hound really, but...*She smiles.*

Frederick: Nonsense, I can multitask. *a brief smirk crossed his lips as he caressed his thumbs up and down her neck, nodding immediately at her words, agreeing with them though she spoke of needing no reassurance on that. He chuckled* He likes you too, in his...Charles way, I suppose. Jane is...Jane. *he shakes his head* It must be a miracle really, we haven't even near killed each other. *He considered that something worth noting at least.* I have...*he pursed his lips and shrugged* I haven't made a decision yet, but I suppose it'd be harmless to go have a look one day.

Lucy: *She smirks, shaking her head a fraction of an inch teasing,* It is easy to distract you. *Her thumb rubs in a circle against an inner vein of his wrist, glad to hear that, giggling only once.* Only possible description of Jane, I think. *Nodding in agreement, she says softer, amused,* I'm glad, honestly. I kind of love that I can see you both at the same time. *Lifting her hand now to cup his cheek too,much happier* Definitely not harmless. I actually think you'd be really good at it...the kids are great. *waits a second, tilts her head* ..I don't suppose I can watch?

Frederick: Watch me struggle with children? *he laughed under his breath, shaking his head and grinning playfully* I'm sure that'll be a disaster in the making.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-two: 5} frederick & charles

Frederick: *Life in town was a busy one. There was always something to be doing, whether it be a chore or a job or an errand. Activities that Rick had never done in his life, like make the bed and clean the dishes and cook, he now had to do on a daily basis. Rick had never been more tired in his life. How were these people not falling over dead from exhaustion? Stifling a yawn, Rick moved through the town market, intending to buy some sort of...string. The stitching on one of the cushions had broken and they needed to fix it. He hadn't offered an explanation of how it had ripped, and Thomas hadn't asked for one. It was for the best. Rick did offer to fix it though...somehow. Otherwise ignoring most of everyone else (a few people actually acknowledged him with a smile and a wave that he returned), he did a double take as he thought he saw his cousin here in town as well. Sure enough, Charles was there.* Charles. *he spoke out, nearly having to shout in the bustle of the market, and started walking over to the younger man. Whether Rick was glad to see him or not, he'd find out soon.* Charles: *Mothers had an extra sense, he was convinced, to alert them to their children's innermost thoughts and desires. Or at least his did. That afternoon he had been staring aimlessly at the parchment he was meant to read (bothering Jane, who was trying to concentrate on writing) and consistently found himself thinking about Rick instead. Jane kicked him out of the library. He couldn't see him--he just, couldn't, he was working, busy, according to Jane didn't need reminders of court. He knew he couldn't. Blast, did he need a reason to want to see him? And just as he'd thought that, his mother had shown up, asking him to please-please pick up some lavender oil and essence of something-or-other at the town market. He hadn't had time to blink twice before she added "now please," kissed his cheek, and slipped silver into his palm. He was in the market in a heartbeat, cursing mother's who knew everything, ignoring stares, and in no time at all heard his name. Biting down on his lip as he was seized with a need to examine the incorrect herb in his hand, just to make sure it was the one he definitely did not need, he squashed the urge down by the time his cousin was beside him. And squashed the herb. Ah well, wrong one anyway. It wasn't until their eyes met that Charles realized: he was truly glad to see him. Smiling small, his words were genial.* Afternoon, Rick. Do you...have any idea what Salvia Officinalis looks like once before it's ground up? *He gestured at the many unlabeled bottles, adding lightly,* The shopkeep imagined himself an artist great as Michelangelo, but I'm afraid I just see squiggly leafs for labels. *Oh...oops. Did Rick know the man now? ...was he not supposed to insult them? Bother.* Frederick: *He almost laughed to hear his cousin, as unchanged as ever. When Etta and Lorraine had come to visit him, they were distinctively not themselves, but Charles was...Charles, he supposed. As long as Rick didnt focus on the fact that his wardrobe and state were now obviously less lavish then it could pass off as a visit, hopefully. Lips twitching, he looked at the different herbs for a few moments before picking up the bottle of sage and tossed it to Charles* Fell asleep during potions class all these years, Charles? *he smirked, and shook his head before adding* The shopkeeper has the shaking sickness, Lucy told me. *Poor sot could barely pick up a pencil most days, but the townspeople didn't even notice the shaking hands. Rick did, it was still odd and uncomfortable to behold but he gathered not as odd and uncomfortable as actually having it. But that wasn't the greatest conversation topic.* How are things? *That wasn't such a great topic either.* Charles: Same as you, I had better ways to spend my time. *Catching the bottle while he smirked and shrugged, Charles barely looked at it. He was too fascinated by Rick. Rather, what was different. The clothes were shoddy and spare, and he didn't remember his hair poking out that way but Charles didn't think it was either.* In a manner of speaking. Suppose that depends on your definition of sleeping. *He winked, fidgeting with the bottle stopper only to still as Rick explained. Oh. Well...poor shopkeep then. A bit wrong footed, it was just as odd to him that Rick would know.* Ah, right. Shame.*What else could he say? More uncomfortable at the question, Charles paused a moment. Then he shrugged.* Jane has her pending book deal and is being a pain. Kitty is in a constant state of bluster as she plans the wedding, and I think I will vomit flowers by the time she's wed, they're everywhere. Leah keeps somehow losing the ribbons for them. *His lips flick, adding as an afterthought,* Oh, and there's a cartographer in town--Angela, who...well, wish I'd met her in Potion's class. *He chuckled once, paused, and added after a brief pause,* How are you? Frederick: *At that he really did laugh, and nodded his head in what he couldn't deny was approval even if Charles was wrong about one point: Rick had actually paid a lot of attention in Potions. Well more attention than he paid most subjects. Lips flicking as Charles recounted the state of things back at court, he noticed only a few moments later that not referring to it as home was becoming second nature, Rick chuckled* Sounds rather normal then, cartographer aside. *His lips twitched before he smiled and answered truthfully* Tired. I wish I could be resting right now actually before I head to the tavern -*his eyes searched Charles as he spoke, curious and wary about his reaction*- but I have to fix a cushion. Lucy ripped it. *He was tried not to smirk. He tried his very best.* Charles: *As his cousin laughed, he got it, what was so odd, what was so changed. Rick was happy.* Fairly. Well. There's...Bridges, but I've kept out of that. *He honestly had; the man was not his responsibility. It was for the best that their Lord and council handed it, God knew. So instead, he continued lighter,* Though you're right, *his smirk lifted,* Angela is anything but common. *The easy smirk faded as Rick continued, slowly nodding once with a smaller smile, only realizing after a few seconds he hadn't spoken. The tavern. Working. God, he couldn't imagine. Strange, uncomfortable...but. Rick was happy; he could see it, and part of the reason...he was reminded of with the lighter remark and a smirk.* Oh did she? *The remark left his lips before he'd thought about it.* However did that happen? Frederick: *It took Rick a couple of seconds to figure out that Charles wasn't talking about Karyn, but rather her outlawed brother, the one that had been caught. Lucy and Thomas were upset, an understatement really, but Rick mostly remained silent on that matter. After all this time, he still found he was rather confused about him and the others' guilt or innocence. So instead he focused on his cousin's description of the cartographer, as it was amusing and curious given that Charles' interest in muggle women, no matter how attractive they might have been, was...oh, almost non-existent. Now truly unable to hide his smirk, he shrugged a bit exaggeratedly before answering* Well, I didn't actually see, I was distracted. Charles: *Glad that Rick didn't press further, the matter of the prisoner was put clean from his mind with his own sudden laugh.* Must have been quite the sight, *his brow wiggled, smirk lifting,* to distract you so utterly. *He was amused, and that was much easier to focus on than...well, the fact that Rick said he was going to mend it. Rubbing his bottom lip -- and sticking his tongue out briefly as he tasted the remains of the squished herb--he tilted his head. His words were dry.* I do hope Lucy isn't blaming herself for distracting you too heartily. *Then he bit his bottom lip, suddenly hearing his own statement in a different context. Ah, damn, whoops. Pausing, he added just as honestly,* She does guilt herself fairly easily. *See? He knew her...somewhat.* Frederick: Wrong sense. *he remarked easily with another smirk. Actually if he were being truthful, it was a combination of them but that was information he kept to himself for obvious reasons. Pausing a moment at the dry addition by his cousin, he pursed his lips and nodded* Yes, that sounds like her. *he looked at Charles again* Though I've told her plenty of times that being with her isn't a distraction. Being without her was, but not this. *he bit his  lip for a moment before he added with a smirk* So it's true then, you have been talking to her? *he raises his eyebrows* Should I be worried? *he paused and then smirked again* Never mind, I'm not. Charles: Wrong se--*he chuckled, earnest and honest at once. It was a familiar type of statement - type, for Rick never repeated his lines anymore than he did. So it took him a moment to remember they weren't just in one of each other's basements on a tear. Swallowing back a comment, it faded from his mind as Rick continued and then nodded once. He wasn't frowning, not exactly, but he did not know what to say. He didn't know what to feel anymore either; all he knew was he was tired of feeling like this. With a slow nod, he folded his arms on his chest and answered hesitantly,* Some..*Oh, for goodness sakes. With a small smirk, he added,* And I'm supposed to point out to you that I like her. Apparently it wouldn't hurt. *His lips quirked up, but he added honestly enough, feeling something akin to shame,* Truthfully Rick, I think I'm the worried one, wondering what she's...said to you about it. Frederick: *Of course he had no problem letting a subject slide, how many of them had they already let fall in this conversation alone?, so he continued and chuckled as Charles replied.* Oh, no it could hurt -you- depending on what you decide to say but. *While Frederick was joking however, Charles seemed to cease, at his next words were, as his cousin had already spoken, sincere. Rick shrugged* That you're a stubborn, annoying, cocky prat. *he paused for a moment and lifted a finger before he added* Apologies, that's what I said about you. *Wiggling his eyebrows, he laughed once and shook his head* She hasn't said one negative thing about you...to me, at least. *he shrugged* Lucy's not like that. Charles: *Each trait in the list widened his smile a fraction, each clenched finger popping off his forearm until he let out a short, bark of a laugh. He raised a hand to feign surrender, shaking his head,* Hey mate, long as you didn't say ugly. Then -I'd- have to hurt you. *He dropped his hand after playfully making a fist, wiggling his stretched fingers as he listens more seriously, brows wrinkling with honest amusement* No? You know, she does have a knack for insults too--least for speaking her mind, anyway. *He pauses, then says--almost in surprise at himself,* I guess I do like that. Frederick: No, your looks are your only redeeming quality, I wouldn't hurt you that badly. *Chuckling, he smiled in pride as Charles spoke of Lucy, nodding along* She's as blunt and honest with the truth as anyone in our family. *Could he still say that? Were they still his family? Cyrus didn't seem to think so. Shaking off that train of thought, he added easy again* I loved that about her instantly- well, besides the obvious. *Another smirk* Charles: I appreciate that, my ego is just oh so easily bruised. *It was an immediate quip, his chin jerking up with his 'as if' shrug. His nose wrinkled an inch as Rick went on. That was a bit like saying she was his family, a bit close for comfort--only then he blinked. Of course that was how Rick would put it; he was living with her now, wasn't he? Well, with Thomas, the man who was his sister's brother, but it was close enough. So he just nodded, still smiling small.* Well, it definitely was the first thing I noticed, considering when I met her she was snapping at me to let her shoe my horse. *He shrugged a shoulder without regret for the occasion. Then he furrowed his brow.* How -did- you meet her, anyway? Frederick: *Rick snorted, knowing fully well how much of a lie that statement was, but it was funny nonetheless. As Charles reminded him of the first time he met Lucy, Rick nodded and then 'ahh-ed' silently* Yes, I saw that, actually, thank you for reminding me- *he whacked Charles in the back of the head, trying not to appear as amused as he felt. He offered no further explanation merely continued, laughing silently before he added* Oh, I will tell you if only because then Jane won't have been the one to get it out of me. *Wiggling his eyebrows, he chuckled before gesturing to the herbs* Should probably pay for that soon though. Charles: *Brows furrowing in surprise, he ducked a half second too late--damn, his reflexes were slow, and laughed through his protest even as he hit his hand away,* Hey! Excuse me, what was that for? *Blinking in rapid confusion, brows screwing up again, suddenly his hand paused over the sore spot beneath a curl.* Did you say you saw it? *His hand dropped again, eyes widening, expression clearing and lifting with amusement.* You were spying on her? Oh, you are properly sunk. *He nodded importantly--and then stepped back out of range, lest he get hit again.* Right, good point. Gesturing to the back of the shop, his gaze paused as he realized just how bad the man's left hand was shaking at the moment. Poor bloke. Without any guilt for his earlier insensitivity - how was he supposed to have known anyways? - he took a few steps forward to show what he had, then flicked silver across the table with a pop of his thumb without care. Well, he took care to have his back to Rick. It felt odd to have more than him, to be even aware of the silver, for it felt heavy in his hand. It was a lot more than he owed he was sure, so call it penance for his comment. Saying 'thank you' with a wave and turning back to Rick, he  gestured he'd follow Rick to wherever he was...going to get whatever he needed to fix a cushion, and found himself grinning again.* I'm getting the story before Jane? Oh, excellent, do tell. Frederick: For being a prat. *He shrugged, thinking that was explanation enough, especially given that he only said it as a favor to his cousin, because he wouldn't have offered one otherwise. Rolling his eyes, he corrected* I was observing- one day you'll be the one spying and I will laugh at your face and say 'see?' *Whenever that day was...if Rick was still even near court for whenever that was. He didn't want to think about that at the moment anyways. Frederick waited a few moments for Charles to pay. He wanted to tell his cousin he was paying too much, as Rick was a bit proud to have learned the base prices for most of the goods in town by now, before he realized two things: Charles obviously knew he was paying too much, and two: he wouldn't care. Only a few weeks ago they had wagered galleons on a stupid bet. So rather Frederick said nothing and started walking out of the shop to the...well, he forgot exactly the name of the shop were they sold the string and needles (honestly he only knew what a needle was because he spent his entire childhood making fun of Etta and Leah for despising sewing), but he knew where to go.)* It was just a normal day of the week. I finished some reports, went to the training fields, quarralled with one of my sisters about something or another *he waved his hand dismissively* And mother sent me to run an errand for her and ensured I didn't send a servant instead like I had been doing for...years. *he shrugged* And I saw her. Just walking in the market, talking with one of her friends. She was...*he paused before admitting in an exhale* enchanting. And this little side glance she threw me? *He groaned under his breath before chuckling* Charles: Oh, all right then. *Well, if he was gonna hit him for something that fairly covered it. All things considered they probably each owed the other dozens of like hits over the years - by that point they were usually drinking. After exaggeratedly beaming at him, as if to say 'I'll believe it when I see it', he stuck both hands in the side of his trousers and tried not to pay attention to the fact that people were watching them. Well...him, they seemed to look right over Rick - or even acknowledge him without having to glare - so Charles just kept his gaze stuck on Rick's instead. He was wondering briefly when it was he stopped wanting them to be alert to his presence and would prefer they just turn around and ignore him, when Rick started explaining---and he laughed. It was appreciative.* A side glance before any sort of introductions? *He whistled, low, under his breath.* Is this the part where you make an arse of yourself? *He chuckles.* Frederick: No. *The immediate response was almost a reflex, no it was a reflex, that made him laugh again before smirking and admitting* Maybe I was a little...imposing. *he shrugged* But she held her own, brilliantly really, as well as any other woman from court...better. *He paused deliberately for a moment, knowing how awkward that would be for Charles to hear, but he felt no shame or inadequacy in saying it and if he did, it was only in ever thinking that it ever mattered.* After that I just kept...finding excuses to 'run into her', to try and woo her every day- I only wanted into her skirts in the beginning, I thought I was charming her but it was the other way around. *He shook his head, a small smile on his face as he recalled the memories. Stopping suddenly, he held his hand up and then pointed to the shop before walking in, acknowledging the shopkeep with a small wave. Rick kept having to come find her to take her husband out of the tavern at closing time, usually forcibly by the ear. Now to buy the string...there was a lot of string. Clearing his throat after a moment he turned back to Charles* Not much more to say really. Charles: Defensive. *He teased it instead of the Shakespeare quote they both knew too well in the offing. Nodding slowly as Rick continued, he chuckled once under his breath.* Ah, only a little, no harm with that. *Had he not been experiencing the fact that Lucy could be as brilliantly manipulative and stubborn as any of those at court, he wouldn't have believed it. And even...thinking that was odd. He averted his eyes, looking over Rick's shoulder, half expecting Lucy to materialize with the details coming out before forced to stop suddenly to head into the store. Blinking at the amount of string, cloth, fabric...he didn't even know the name for most in this store really, he just met Rick's gaze again with a tiny chuckle.* Right, yeah. *There was a pause. Then, screw it.* Except you left out the part where it started making sense for you to give up your title...? *He trailed off with a hand an eyebrow raised, neither frowning nor smiling. Voice similarly - and oddly, for Charles, gentle - he added as an afterthought.* I'm not saying you should not have, it's your life, I just...Rick, I had no idea, and I...honestly, can't say I understand it yet. Frederick: *His hand paused over a bit of string as he heard Charles' words, his gaze dropping for a moment before he started chuckling, and licked his lips* Ah, yes...that. *He was wondering when he'd get to that.* Well...at least you're asking. Lorraine demanded I come home. *He paused for another moment and then exhaled, shrugging* Honestly Charles, I could spend days reciting every single detail of the hell I went through, and you still wouldn't be able to understand. It's just something...it's just something you feel, like a candle flickering on except I kept trying to blow mine out and the flame ended up burning down the room. *God, did he really just say that? He shook his head again and then exhaled* Honestly after getting to know her, the kind of person she was, her values and hopes and dreams and fears, I just realized she was just...another person. A person that I was...completely taken with. And at court I was living a lie, most of the time. I didn't want that, I wanted to be more than just a shell of a man trying to please everyone and win father's approval. I was tired of pretending and I made a decision. I would have done it from court if Cyrus hadn't made me choose, if the security measures weren't in place, I would have brought her there and fuck what everyone else said. *He swallowed a lump in his throat but that was the only acknowledgement he ever gave of it's existence.* I've always wanted to be Lord, I always knew I was going to be, I was educated for it, I was proud...but the title and the life would mean absolutely nothing without her. Charles: As well demand the sky turn green, honestly. *Not that he blamed Lorraine for wanting him home; she was not alone in that. But seeing and hearing Rick now, Charles couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something. He hated being this confused, honestly. Certainty had a comfort inherent, and now...he didn't know what this was. He just knew he didn't like it. Listening closely, half wishing there was a magical epiphany wrapped up in his words, he nodded once.* Well, apparently. Who else is going to inspire such brilliant poetry? I think you're rivaling Byron. *It was easier to make a lark. Especially when he thought of Lucy at court, and what his father would say of that, his own internal twist of distaste,  the approval from his father sure to come at his thought, that Rick just insinuated was worthless, and--oh for fucks sakes. He needed a drink. Rick made a kind of sense though - though a question slipped out before he'd noticed he'd spoken,* ...did you lie to me? Frederick: *Jokes, it wasn't surprising to him at all. If it weren't so familiar to him, he might have been annoyed or bothered. What did bother him though was the look on Charles' face, because he had been so familiar with it for so long. Frowning, he looked at Charles before he nodded reluctantly* Yes. I've lied to everyone in the recent months about this, lied to myself...*he pursed his lips before asking a question himself* Are you ashamed of me? Charles: *There was a breathless pause.* I wish you hadn't. *It was true that he might not have reacted well -- probably would have make jokes and laughed as he was now -- but he wanted a little credit too. Had he ever really cared who his cousin slept with anyway? So, he wanted...at least acknowledgment that he wasn't just his little cousin...who abruptly was technically above him now. His head spun at the thought; it felt even less true than it had when he was at court. He was still learning from Rick, right now. Calmly, he just shrugged his shoulders, echoing himself softer,* I just..I wish you hadn't. *But as Rick pursed his lips and asked with as much weight as he had, Charles' only shook his head.* No. I wish you had told me the truth, I wish you didn't leave, I wish Lucy wasn't muggleborn, and I wish this wasn't all so hard--but no, Rick. I don't think having convictions and morals is shameful. And I think telling your father he can be an ass was courageous, because well, no offense, but he really can be an ass. If I'm ashamed of anything right now it's the fact that this entire fucked up family agrees we ought to be united and does nothing to fix it at the same time. But -- *he shrugs his shoulder* honestly it seems to me, if someone really is ashamed and threatened by who you choose to be with, it says a lot more about that person than about you Rick. Nothing complimentary, either. *He sighs, rubs his forehead, and then clears his throat awkwardly. Waiting a long moment he finally met his gaze again and added,* I mean, Christ Rick, you look a hell of a lot happier than I feel. Frederick: *He nodded softly, understanding that at least. Rick hadn't kept the truth from him or anyone as an insult, it was a method of...self-preservation, in his eyes at that moment at least. Now, he knew it had just been act of cowardice. Well, not that he'd ever admit that out loud, or if he did ever use that word again. Charles' answer to his question put him at ease, almost visibly. Rick agreed, he wished it didn't have to be this hard either, he wanted nothing more than to just...have it all, have everything he's ever wanted. Nothing was ever easy, and Rick only learned that recently because to him...life had been easy for a while. Nodding slowly after grabbing a roll of string (he was getting that one and if it didn't work then tough, he'd find a way) he turned back to Charles and chuckled a moment, clapping his cousin's shoulder* I wasn't going to say anything, mate but you do look awful.* Charles: *The visible relaxation made Charles feel better: at least he had been able to do something good, something right.* Yes, well,  I'm getting no sleep because Jane won't shush. *With an instant smile, he lifted his hand to push his shoulder free muttering,* Oh shove off, Rick. At least I don't have a hole in my jacket. *He nodded at it, and then at the string in the barrel he'd already grabbed, scooping more out, cutting it magically from habit (but it was in the barrel, no one could have seen) and tossed it at him.* That ought fix it though. Patch it right up. *Both his eyebrows were wiggling again with a smirk.* Frederick: Aren't you used to that by now, though? *He could almost hear Jane's retort from here.* Hey!- *Oh, he did. He stretched it out to see it better and then just laughed and shook his head, looking up again only to catch the scoop of string that Charles had thrown at him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes before replying easily* Tosser. *A smirk played on his lips before an actual smile took over as he grabbed inside his pockets to pull out the exact change he needed to pay for the string. When they were exiting the shop again, he looked back at Charles* I'm sorry I lied to you. Charles: Well yes but -- *He paused, realizing that the difference was that Jane was ranting and rambling now to try and just get along with everyone, and the toll their previously united family being splintered had taken. So instead, he pointed out,* Can you get used to shrill? *Smirking, he lifted his index finger to point in agreement with the insult, he paused and then looked away politely, not wanting to stare while he dug the right coins out. After giving a polite nod to the shopkeeper herself (she looked a bit irritated at him), he said nothing until Rick had spoken again. Smirk softening into a smile, he just nodded at him.* Sorry I wasn't paying closer attention. *Tilting his head, he asked offhand,* Do you wa--have time for a drink? *He fished out of his pocket the flask and lifted it, though he wasn't quite smirking yet as he added,* If you want to ask Lucy too... Frederick: *He chuckled, smirking briefly* No, I suppose I can't. *Smiling himself as his apology was answered with another one, he simply nodded before chuckling at the other question, smirking immediately* Of course, I'll always make time. *Pleasantly surprised as Charles offered to invite Lucy along as well, he nodded* Yeah, she should be finishing helping her mother with their chores soon...she'll probably be in need of that drink.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty one: 2} frederick, esther, grant

Haggling was a skill that was honed and practiced. At the same time, haggling was a skill that Frederick lacked, or indeed, even knew it existed. “A loaf of bread couldn’t possible cost that much,” Frederick spoke plainly, trying not to appear annoyed or inadequate for that was how he felt. The seller, Two-Ton Tom is what they called him, picked at his yellow teeth with a toothpick that in the hands of someone of normal girth would have served as a knife. “Y’know much about bread, Brackner?” He knew how to eat it, Frederick almost replied but decided that haughty tones were best left for other moments. It wasn’t clear to Frederick when he would ever find an appropriate situation to use it once more but it seemed to be nigh impossible in town where most still looked upon him with cold disdain in their eyes whenever he passed by. He couldn’t blame them, he supposed. But had he really been that horrible to them before? “Thought not, m’lord. So shut yer mouth, pay for the loaf, or take your shaved arsehole and move out of m’sight!” Apparently, he had. “This is all I have, I can’t use it all on a bloody loaf of bread!” His impatience was growing with the time he spent in this bakery. He didn’t want to waste the day arguing with this man over a piece of food, especially when he knew this Tom was cheating him. Frederick didn’t know exactly by how much, but it became clear to him when he first asked about the price and Two-Ton Tom showed his nasty grin and proceeded to quickly count all the money Rick had in hand. “That ain’t my problem little lord,” he mocked, wiping his hands on his apron even though they only came out more full of flour. “Run back home to mommy and daddy.” “Tormund Raymond Hamm! You should be ashamed of yourself!” Frederick turned to see who had walked in and spoke in his defense. The proportions of the couple were the most striking thing about them at first. The man towered even over Two-Ton Tom while the woman was petite and appeared pixie like in comparison. But it wasn’t the man who was sporting a glare, or walking up to the baker with loud stomping steps, or prodding Tom in the chest with an index finger. “Taking advantage of a person like that?! That’s what you’d make in two months!” “Three,” Tom replied with a smirk he instantly regretted. Rick hadn’t noticed when the giant of a man had walked up to him until he felt a slight prod at his ribs. Feeling slightly affronted at having his personal space violated like that, he mostly shrugged it off as the giant pointed at the woman and then himself all smug with pride. Frederick could understand that at least, and turned to look at the rest as the man whispered, “Watch this.” “Is your dignity worth five months of wages, Tormund?” A light brown eyebrow rose expectantly as she watched the man fumble over his words. Rick couldn’t help but derive amusement from this. It hid his shame at appearing as if he needed help with as simple a matter as buying bread. “Would you rob from this man in the middle of the night? Would you go to his home and steal everything of worth? Would you give up your morals, your values, for a few pieces of paper?” “Jesus, Esther-“

“The Lord’s name in vain now, Tormund?!” Esther’s husband, Rick assumed he was her husband, seemed to find that sentence particular amusing and passed off a snort as a series of coughs. “I was only looking out for meself, m’family-“ “And this is what you’re going to teach them? Your sons, and grandsons- that this kind of cruelty is not only tolerated but encouraged? This man has given up his home, his family, everything he once knew-“ Rick cleared his throat, his feet shuffling under him uncomfortably. He didn’t need a reminder of what he had given up; neither did Two-Ton Tom who didn’t even care to begin with. If he had been anybody else, he would have started praying for a hole to crawl into, or for the earth to swallow him whole. “You will sell him the bread at a fair cost and you’ll give him a discount for the gross waste of time and insult you’ve given us all.” “Esther!” “As far as I’m aware, stuttering is a family trait of yours not mine, so do I really need to repeat myself?” The store was silent for a few moments before Two-Ton Tom relented. Nodding his head, he looked down at the ground and muttered a soft ‘No ma’am’. Pleased, Esther smiled and nodded, patting Tormund on the shoulder. “Go on to the back and fetch us some fresh loafs, yes? And do you have the usual order of the children’s sweetcakes? Wonderful, darling.” Frederick was impressed, annoyed, grateful and decidedly not. For someone who had long been identified as an emotionless and shallow human being, Frederick was becoming quite the expert on simultaneous emotions. Clearing his throat again, he nodded in gratitude to the couple. “I appreciate your help.” It took a lot of determination not to add words such as ‘he was handling it’ or ‘he could have taken care of it himself’. “It’s no trouble,” Esther smiled, pretending not to notice the wink her husband threw her way. “I’m Esther Hall,” she introduced herself officially, holding out her hand for Frederick to shake. He did so and then turned his hand to the man’s as he was introduced. “And this is Grant Hall, my husband.” “An honor to meet you both.” Courtesies were difficult to drop, even when surrounded by what seemed to be a never ending cycle of vulgarity.  “I’m Frederick Brackner.” “Nice to meet ya,” a gruff voice spoke out in a recognizable Scottish accent, though his smile appeared sincere. “You’re staying with Thomas Randall, aye?” “Yes,” though he knew it was knowledge the whole town possessed by then, and didn’t see the point of the question. “He works for me, he’s a smart lad, good man.” Oh, this was the carpenter and wood carver, Frederick remembered then. Still, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to respond to that. That he agreed? Rick only tolerates Thomas, which was a decent step up from his absolute distaste, but he wasn’t ready to sing praises. “Lucy raves about you, you know,” Esther added, sensing Frederick’s uneasiness. Her name was all it took for Rick to smile again, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “All my life, I’ve never seen her so happy.” “Keep ‘er happy, mate. Otherwise I’ll be forced to, ya know,” Grant laughed boisterously, clapping Frederick on the shoulder. The man seemed to not understand the meaning of personal space. “I’m jus’ joking, mate. Well, ‘suppose only half joking.” “And you’re only half funny, darling,” Esther smiled as if she were hiding a secret and then turned to Tormund as he came forward with the bread and baked goods all wrapped in parcels for them. Grant stepped forward to pay for the food and Esther leaned in to explain the general prices in a quick tone. Frederick understood pretty quickly and paid Tom the money with a quiet ‘thank you’ before beginning to move out of the store. “You caught on rather quickly, Frederick,” Esther commented after departing from her husband, her basket of baked goods in her hand. Rick hadn’t expected the company, but refusing it now would have been rude, he supposed. “Decently enough, yes.” Modesty was a foreign language to him, but he did his best with it. Esther seemed to pick up on that easily enough as well if her amusement was any indication. But to be fair, Frederick did overthink these things. Every time he walked through town Frederick analyzed and over analyzed any passing glance or whispered comment. Sometimes he would try to tell himself that it was all in his mind, that they weren’t talking about him, that it was his ego taking a hit. Most of the time, however, it didn’t work. “We could use a mind like yours,” Esther revealed, only further confusing Frederick. Turning his head slightly to face her as he kept walking, his eyes remained inquisitive as she continued. “I work at the school, you see. It’s why I know of Tormund’s family stutter, my mother and I have helped his children and grandchildren work through it.” Frederick wasn’t interested in curing stutters, and was trying to find a polite way to let her down gently before she kept speaking, seemingly non-deterred. “Believe me Frederick, when I say Lucy has told me nearly all about you, because it is true. And what I do not know I would not want to know to begin with, as I lack a certain…deviancy I should say.” She didn’t need to explain herself, Frederick caught her meaning easily enough. “As such, she recalls your brilliance and wit more than once. And of course given your thorough education I’m only inclined to believe it, as well as believe that you receive very little satisfaction from working as a barman.” The little shrug in response told the truth: he did not enjoy working at the tavern, no. If his pride hadn’t been in a permanently wounded state since a week ago despite his desperately trying to change that, it would have bothered him to admit that he didn’t like it because it was difficult. Taking care of a bar and serving drinks, without magic, was actually…really, difficult. “It pays,” he answered simply but honestly with another shrug. “Not nearly enough, as a barman relies mostly on tips…” Frederick understood the words that her mouth didn’t say; ‘tips that he wasn’t receiving’ or at least, not nearly enough as he should have. The people in town would be surprised how similar they could be to those at court when it came to ostracizing. “You should come to the school sometime,” Esther suggested, waving at a group of small children running around, playing a game that Frederick did not recognize. He frequently felt like that, as if he was observing the town but not really part of it. Sometimes he admitted that he really didn’t want to be, that he only wanted to belong with Lucy but he knew from the start what a big part her home, this town, played in her life. He was making an effort, at least, even if the majority of town was ignoring it. “I’m pretty busy-“ “So am I,” she shrugged and then handed the kids a few pastries from her basket. She whispered to them and made them promise to come to school tomorrow bright and early, and take some pastries to their parents as well. Esther turned and eyed him without any hesitation or shame before speaking again. “You were raised with an education, Frederick. It’s one of the most valuable assets a person can have. Oh sure-“ she added immediately as she probably sensed his defiance, “most do not agree. Some around here say it only takes time away from their children learning whatever craft they specialize in, you would say money is more valuable but how do the rich become rich to begin with? Did God bless them with fortune and keep us poor, of course not. These children learn to read with me, know their numbers, I teach them everything I can, just as my mother taught me and all my siblings. Ian Lally? He recites some Shakespeare from memory. Tormund’s grandson writes his own poetry. My niece Mia researches plants, flowers, and fruits in order to make and sell bottles of perfume- she has a garden of her own aromatic plants. Frederick, Lucy herself can barely read or write. I do not want any more children of this town growing up saying the same thing.” He could understand where her passion and concerned stemmed from, Frederick noticed. It was enough to intrigue him as well, to see how a muggle school would compare to a magical one, or a tutor but there was a nagging in his mind he couldn’t shake off. “Lady Maeve pays your wages.” If Esther was surprised by his choice of words, she didn’t show it. “And once aware of my intentions years ago helped fund and furnish the school, yes.” Pursing her lips, she asked, or rather stated, “You’d be ashamed to take money from the Fayes.” Frederick’s jaw set, which was as telling a response as anything else. Nodding, Esther breathed out before explaining. “But this is their town. They built and rebuilt, commission and buy, tax…if you’re seeking to escape court this is not the place to be.” Another thing he didn’t need to be reminded of. Nearing Thomas’ home, he was actually rather glad to be returning to it. “But that’s not what you want, not really.” This woman truly was insisting. She had the same lack of concern for personal space as her husband, but different than her husband, she invaded his space with words rather than her body. Sighing, Frederick finally turned annoyed and spoke out, “What do I want then? As you seem to know me so well.” Undeterred, Esther continued, oddly kind despite her previous insistence. “You want what everyone else wants, Frederick, a good and happy and fulfilling life. Being a barman doesn’t make you happy now, it probably won’t make you happy in the future. That lack of happiness with your work could turn into frustration, eventually that frustration would reach your relationship with Lucy and begin causing rifts. You don’t have to come work with me, if that’s not what you want to do. But whatever you choose to do, should make you happy.” Chuckling under his breath, he shook his head before revealing, “That money is all I have. Being a barman pays and fast— I don’t have much choice.” “Everything is a choice, everything we do” Esther spoke, a sudden sadness gripping her facial expression for the briefest of moments and left so quickly that Frederick began to doubt if it was ever there. Smiling again, Esther reached into the basket and handed him a pastry as well. “Think about what I said. In any case, you’ll be seeing me around. I’ve invited you and Lucy and Thomas and Beth over for dinner next week, Lucy will tell you about it tonight, I’m sure.” Her lips lifting briefly in a smile, Esther didn’t move back until Rick had accepted her pastry, and perhaps with that even her offer to dinner, he wasn’t entirely sure. Frederick wondered briefly if Karyn would have been invited had she not disappeared and realized if Esther was such a friend of Lucy’s and Thomas’, then she must be worried about Karyn as well. “Have a good day, Frederick.” Rick stood a little confused, it was quickly becoming a permanent state of mind for him, before he nodded. “You too, Mrs. Hall, thank you.” “Oh please no,” Esther turned and laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not nearly old enough for that.” She smiled and then corrected him. “Esther will do.” Nodding again, Esther turned to wave a few more kids to her again, and Rick realized she was bribing them as much as encouraging them. With an amused smirk upon his face, he chuckled and walked into the house.

[fycourtera]

{chapter seventeen: 14} tom, lucy, frederick

Thomas: *When he saw Lucy and Frederick approaching him from his backyard, where he was chopping wood, he realized with a bit of amusement that they were holding hands. Considering what Beth had said, he couldn't help but wonder if they had actually released each other at all yet. He quickly put the thought from his mind, as it made his nose wrinkle with passing annoyance. Whatever aggravation he'd felt when first informed paled in comparison to the smile on Lucy's lips, but it was Brackner's expression Thomas meant to examine. Bugger, he looked just as happy. Reserved, wary perhaps--Good, he should, Tom couldn't help but think--but happy. Tom paused.* Good evening. *He slammed the axe down, split the wood, brushed splinters from his hands, then rested the handle against the log.* And how are you two this fine evening? *His lips quirked.* Lucy: Thomas. *That was unnecessary, Lucy thought ruefully as she saw the axe come down in an exuberant show of masculine bravado. Here she had finally convinced Rick to leave her bed with her--she suspected her parents looming arrival had been more responsible for that--and Thomas was just going to smirk wasn't he? Lucy sighed. That bed had been comfortable. And Rick's embrace warm and addictive, particularly when he tasted of strawberries. Squeezing Rick's hand again, her own lips flicked up at her friend.* Incredibly well, yourself? Thomas: Incredibly? *His lips flicked in faux wonder, eyes wide.* How extraordinary. Lucy: Wondrous, Tom. *She rolled her eyes.* Let go of the axe, would you? Thomas: *He laughed genuinely and nodded, letting it go.* You drive a hard bargain, Luce. Lucy: *Her grin widens wickedly as she looks as Rick again, saying lightly* You aren't the first to say so. Thomas: *He snorts, making a show of releasing the axe handle and looks at Rick, saying pointedly,* I'll ignore that. *fairly, generously* What can I do for the two of you? Least I can do, seeing as how you did take a day of gossip off me an' Beth. *He was smiling honestly, but there was a steeliness in his eyes as he looked at Rick--he couldn't help it, he swore, he was protective of those he loved, that was all.* Frederick: *This was a "lesser of two evils" situation. The simple fact was that he'd rather face Thomas and whatever "intimidating" and "protective" gestures he'd come up with than chance getting caught by Lucy parents with his trousers off. Would he rather face a manticore with his bare hands instead of doing both, why yes, yes he would. But Lucy's grip on his hand gave him the strength he needed. It seemed almost laughable that if things actually went -well- during this conversation he'd have to share a roof with the man. And would have to bite back comments because Rick after all was the guest. No matter how many times he tried to wrap his mind around that fact, it just didn't seem to sink in completely. Eyebrows rising as an axe cut through word with a little more force than what was necessary, he restrained himself from rolling his eyes and replied curtly* Evening. *He was rather hoping Lucy would take care of all the talking given that she knew him best (he pushed away thoughts of what he'd said to her at the ball regarding Thomas) but he knew that wouldn't happen. If Rick couldn't handle this, then he might as well just leave now because nobody in the town was going to be much nicer. His lips twitched when Lucy looks back at him with a knowing smile, and he squeezes her hand a moment before looking forward again. Oh gracious, did he really have to ask by himself? He might have groaned if he didn't have more control.* Probably more than a day. *the comment was to buy himself time to actually...admit, to needing help. Bollocks- he could go live at the tavern, he really could. He cleared his throat* I need a place to stay. Until I can make enough money to get my own...Lucy said you might help. *No, she was convinced he would, but he was more doubtful than that and "might" just happened to be the middle ground between those two points.* Thomas: *He paused, amused at that and tilted his head.* Ah, true probably. *Of course, he couldn't help but think it was typical that Brackner--Frederick, he reminded himself, considering how tightly his hands were wrapped with Luce's--would expect himself that important, but. In this case he was right enough how much talk their affair was causing.* Lucy: *She kept her eyes on Rick as he asked for encouragement, but once he finished she looked back at Thomas with her own steel in her gaze.* Thomas: *His brow arches--he couldn't deny, it surprised him to hear the considerately-phrased question, though he didn't miss Lucy's expression either, and he blinked.* Help... Lucy: *brow arch* Thomas: ...ah. *he snorts and then says genially with a nod* Well, I have a bed. That's easy enough. Lucy: *smile widens, grateful* Thanks, Tom. Thomas: *he bites his bottom lip, still curious as he looks at Frederick* You sure you won't mind? *he gestures over his shoulder at the small house* It does mean sharing a room. *evenly* Frederick: *Well, that was a lot easier than he expected it to be. It probably wouldn't have gone over half as well without Lucy there, that was certain.  He nodded as well, adding his own gratitude* Thank you. *Thanks for being a much better person than Rick had been, or thanks for placing Lucy's happiness over his distrust and dislike of Rick. Maybe a simple thanks for not being a dick worked as well.* It'll be fine. Beats the woods. *And Frederick could behave if he could, but he didn't think he could say that out loud without a reprimanding "Rick" from Lucy.* Thomas: *His brow arched higher at the dismissive remark, amused at the concept and saying simply,* Well, I guess it does just beat the forest, yes. *He couldn't help himself: the consideration of Frederick's comments thus far was odd to him, incongruent with the attitude his sister's cousin had had with him his whole life -- for he supposed it was bad manners for a Lord to ask "the bastard" for a room.* Lucy: *She sighed, knowing perfectly well that wasn't what Rick had meant -- that it was a joke, but before she has even finished a reprimanding 'Thomas' he's speaking over her discomfort again--* Thomas: *simply* Look, I'm sorry, for what happened to you here -- I truly am, Frederick. *Honestly, he couldn't even imagine. Well, he supposed he could: hadn't his own biological father just decided he wasn't worth it and kicked him out? But he was still just a baby when that happened, gone to live with his mother and hadn't even known he had a different father 'til he was 12. He bit his lip and offered - trying to find something he could, offer* M' dad never wanted me, so. Maybe I can relate a little bit. Lucy: *softly, she takes a step closer to Rick to rest her chin against his arm, murmuring something incoherent, though Thomas was smiling still* Thomas: *Still, while he was wary of Rick, didn't particularly enjoy his company, the looks of happiness on his face, on Lucy's made it easier--and he was glad to realize there was perhaps common ground* And I'm glad to see you've two worked things out. *There was a definite look of 'or else' on his face as he looked at Rick now before adding sweeter,* So yeah, you can stay here -- long as you need. Can you two just do me a favor though and...*thinks how to phrase it, amusement back on his lips. He bends down to pick up the logs he cut, gesturing they probably should follow him as he goes to toss them onto the pile near his door* ..not be in the same bed when...*kicking the back door open to carry some in with him. *...I'm anywhere near here? Lucy: *She giggles, amused at that, looking sideways at Rick and saying teasingly,* If I say no promises..? Thomas: *tiny groan* Lucy-- Lucy: *still squeezing Rick's hand as she follows him, she says happily,* Not like I didn't see you and Beth-- Thomas:  *kneeling down and letting the logs roll out of his arms to the pile near his little pit, gestures to Rick, saying simply but good-naturedly* You can close the door. *looks back to Lucy* Because you didn't knock, Luce. Lucy: It was my room. Thomas: You knew we were in there! Lucy: I'd just gone to get us all a cup of water. *she finally releases Rick's hand to go help Thomas, fetching some of the sticks for kindling, and then as an after thought opening the window: it was gonna be hot for a fire, but she knew he needed it to cook.* Thomas: *chuckling under his breath, but he says simply* Regardless, seeing as how you have a perfectly good bed- Lucy: Where my parents live- Thomas: *continuing determinedly, eyes narrowing at Rick now* --and as it's my house -- Lucy: Oh for heaven's sakes. It's not like we want you to walk in on us, Tom. Thomas: *shrugs a shoulder, saying amusedly* And the exhibition in the town square was...? Lucy: Fully clothed? Thomas: I'm just covering all bases, a'ight? *Looks at Rick again with an eyebrow raise.* Well, the important stuff at least -- which speaking of which. I'll clean after my self, but I won't be picking up for you, and I'm not cooking for yer-- Lucy: *eye rolls to the ceiling at the sudden list, saying genially herself through clenched teeth as she looks at him with her hand on her hip* Good, you're an awful cook. Thomas: I'm a fair cook, Luce--*eyes still on Rick* -- I'm just saying- Lucy: How about I cook for both of you, and you keep doing whatever masculine staring contest you have going right now? Frederick: *Force of habit wanted him to simply agree to that statement, given that these homes were about as big as his sitting room, or well it didn't belong to him anymore, but he kept his mouth shut again. Eyebrows rising as Thomas actually speaks to him with something other than hostility, Frederick pursed his lips and nodded repeatedly afterwards. What exactly what he was supposed to say to that? 'Thank you for feeling sorry for me?' He didn't need anyone's pity.* It was my choice, nothing to feel sorry about. *He wasn't particularly willing to speak about Cyrus quite yet anyways, and another level, he didn't want Thomas comparing Weston to Cyrus for however harsh Lord Brackner was, Frederick wouldn't place him at the late Lord Weston's level. His head turned to smile more easily as Lucy brought herself closer to him, all previous thoughts cast aside so easily. He could look at her for an eternity, but that would be impossible at the moment. He turned back to Thomas as the man spoke again. Frederick nodded in gratitude again, deciding that voicing it again would be too much and started following Lucy and Thomas inside. His lips twitch in a brief smirk at how gently Thomas decides to describe the fact he doesn't want to catch them having sex. He keeps quiet as he closes the door behind them, not really comfortable or familiar enough to tease the way that Lucy was doing, especially given that this seemed the first of many very real 'rules' he would have to abide by. He would say he felt like a child again, but that wasn't true; when he was a child he had someone to cook and clean for him, the same as what had been true hours before. Frowning briefly as Lucy lets go of his hand, he looks around the house, getting acquainted to the space, very small space for something to do at least. He was a stranger to the conversation, only knowing Beth from sight and not willing to tease a man he didn't like about the woman he was sleeping with, there was not much he could input. 'Yer', what language was that supposed to be in, pirate?* I can look after myself, I won't be a bother. *Bothering meant interaction, he wanted to...possibly keep that at a minimum. Well, he still didn't know how to cook but if Rick knew how to brew the draught of the living death, how hard could it really be to cook? His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword subconsciously; he hadn't been prepared to leave it behind. Looking back at Lucy, his lips twitched at her comment.* What's particularly masculine about a staring contest anyways, Luce? Thomas: *His brow arches a bit at Frederick's comment, and he says simply,* I'm sure you can. And if you do need help with something, I'm happy to help. *He turned back to the fire he was stoking: he was hiding a little smile to himself. So, he was getting amusement from the thought that Frederick Brackner would soon be cooking and cleaning. Who could honestly blame him for that? After everything the man had said to him?* Lucy: *Noting his hand floating over the hilt of his sword, Luce looks up at Rick wordlessly-- knowing it was making him feel safer just to hold it, but simultaneously glad Tom didn't see that. She spoke sweetly.* I don't know, I could fetch a mirror to show you two your expressions. Thomas: *chuckles, still stoking the fire* On my dresser. Feel free. Lucy: *She cast a quick glance to the little handheld mirror across the room and she shakes her head, amused* It's just the way you're looking at each other all right? All...challenging and protective. *She sighs, a hand coming up.* Not that I don't appreciate you both two, of course. But seriously, tonight at least, I'll cook. Thomas: *amused* You don't have to- Lucy: *still sweet* As I don't want to be poisoned. Thomas: *laughs and shakes his head* Oh you wound me, Lucy. Lucy:  It would ruin an otherwise rather extraordinarily wondrous day. Thomas: Uh huh. *He wasn't pitying Frederick, his statements made that clear, but considering the man had just lost his home, he did feel like consideration was in order. He turns back, gesturing across the small house to where he had pushed his old bed, saying simply,* Well, you can have that one. Lucy: *instantly* I'll get you another blanket too. Thomas: *genially* You can push it away from the wall too, and I think I have an old trunk so you can store some clothes--*he pauses and stands up again, away from his burgeoning fire* Out back-- I'll go get it. *He walks outside again, and once he does, he pauses to lean his head against the side of his house and promptly whacks his head against it: he had to admit this was awkward, uncomfortable, irritating -- but he was glad too. He was happy for Lucy, happy to see Frederick acting conciliatory, happy to see the way they looked at each other -- happy that he at least could do something to help out. Pulling back, he went to look for the little trunk.* Lucy: *The moment Thomas let the door close, she crosses the room, goes on her toes, kisses Rick once, and speaks softly.* Thanks. *kisses him again* Not that bad, right? *She searches his expression, reaching to squeeze his hand, biting her lip in momentary frustration and then after a few moments promptly kisses him again to say pointedly* ...I was serious about no-promises on the bed question though. Frederick: Thanks. *This one was more of a mutter, because it was full of more unspoken sentiments mostly 'thanks but no thanks'. It was bad enough Rick was living under the man's roof and sleeping on his old bed. Frederick would figure it out himself...or ask Lucy for help instead. Smirking briefly as his gaze fell to the floor for a moment, he almost remarked that if she gave him a mirror she'd have a hard time pulling him away from it, but quickly decided against it given that there was a high possibility he'd actually be taken seriously. Normally Frederick wouldn't care but as he kept having to remind himself repeatedly he was the guest, he had to obey the rules, had to play nice. He would be getting a job as soon as possible. Which...was another form of torture all on its own. Working for him involved...reading and writing reports. Thinking on that was easier than having to listen to the two childhood friends tease each other. Because while he knew and understood that Thomas' previous affections were unrequited by Lucy, even if she did use him to make him jealous, well, he couldn't make the feelings go away. He would say he was a jealous person, except jealousy implied that Lucy was not his, and she was, just as he was hers. So maybe the right word was possessive, instead. Except he really had no right to be, because they were friends and known each other for a lot longer and blah blah friendship, blah blah, he didn't really understand it. He had to just learn to stifle the feeling. Rick looked back at the bed Thomas gestured to and nodded. Watching Thomas go outside again, his gaze quickly returns to Lucy who is already halfway to him and his lips flick up in a smile before he leans in to kiss her back. He snorts once at the question, taking her hand* We'll have to see. *He smirks again after the kiss, chuckling and nodding* Good. Lucy: *At his little word, she chuckled again seeing his look and went on her toes to slip her arms around his neck,* Oh, you. You want him to see us--rather, me with you-- little part of you, don't you? *Her lips pursed in brief amusement as he squeezed her hand again. Still on her toes, her lips met his again instead of verbally explaining herself (she didn't think he'd mind her preferred explanatory technique) as reassuring him. Kissing him soundly, by the time she'd pulled back she was breathless. Her hand fell back down his neck, fingers stroking the nape. Echoing once she'd caught her breath,* And you can ask me too, whatever you need. *As she looked at him, she thought there was a part of her that wished they were living together. It would be simpler. Hmming, her words were teasing,* I'll slip over here moment I wake, which as I'm willing to bet it's before you, you won't ever know I left. *Only on the idea that servants woke up before their lords, where as she'd been getting up half her life before dawn to see to the horses. It wasn't a criticism: she was glad she might have the chance to crawl back into bed with him before he'd had the chance to miss her. Lucky, she thought amused as the door opened again, she'd be missing him the moment she left til the moment she returned. Hearing the door, she pointedly went on her toes to kiss him once again before turning back to Thomas, seeing him with a trunk.* Great. What were you going to make? *nods to the fire* Thomas: *Seeing them embrace just made him roll his eyes, knowing well that Luce would have done that on purpose. He snorted before averting his eyes carefully, laying the trunk to rest at the end of the bed and saying simply to her question,* Soup. Lucy: Ah. *she bit her lip, pulling back* Okay. I'm gonna run, get chicken instead. Thomas: What's wrong with soup? Lucy: Nothing, except I'm sick of it. *amusedly, even as she's looking at them warily while backing up* It's just as my house though so - I'll be right back? Thomas: *Great. He stood back up, patting dirt onto the floor off his hands and said simply, echoing her sugary tone,* We'll be here, Lucy. Lucy: *She nods, eyes lingering on Rick as long as she'd let them, and then darts out the door walking backwards before she closed it.* Thomas: *ruefully, he couldn't help but joke instantly, both eyebrows arched at Frederick* I think she expects we're gonna kill each other before she makes it back. Frederick: Whatever gave you that idea? *He smirked, chuckling afterwards as he admitted that yes, he rather enjoyed that notion. He kissed her back gladly, a smile ghosting his lips as she pulled away. He nodded at her reminder* I know, I will. *He chuckled* Hey, I'm an early riser. *When he was sober at least, and he -was-. Not to mention, he didn't know exactly how much sleep he would be getting tonight, not necessarily due to lack of comfort (though that was sure to play a part) but rather because the events of the day were bound to catch up to him by the time he settled down to sleep. He smirked again as Lucy kissed him again after hearing the door open, pleased. Soup could be an entire meal? Surprised, he nevertheless kept quiet about it. Rick felt as if one wrong comment would have him out on the street (his pride could very well be physically paining him at this point). He pursed his lips as Lucy said she'd have to run out, wouldn't take long, but Rick was an exhale away from groaning. He tears his gaze away from Lucy only when the door shuts and then a dry chuckle leaves his lips at Thomas' statement, shrugging afterwards* You can't tell me it hasn't crossed your mind. *Rick had entertained the imagination for a split second as well, never a fully formed idea at least. Clearing his throat, he speaks again, more quietly* I'm...sorry, by the way. *For really wanting to punch him in the face repeatedly more times than he could remember.* For being an arse to you all these years....*he frowned, still not used to the notion of apologizing. Apologizing to Lucy was easier than breathing, apologizing to anyone else...not so much. He didn't have to apologize to...-everyone- he ever wronged, right? That would take the rest of his life.* I know it means next to nothing but...I thought I'd say it anyways. Thomas: *He laughs, surprised at the honesty behind his own amusement. He had expected to have to force more civility than that.* No, I can't. *He had clearly spent too much time with Luce; his tone adopted her sugary tone as he said it, a smirk crossing his lips. Spinning around to fetch a bed sheet so they could at least separate their 'rooms' better, he found himself stock still as he heard his apology. Blinking rapidly at the wall, his finger came up, digging into his ears. After peering at his finger tip, he blinked once more and then spun back to Frederick with his own softer, if bewildered, smile.* ...Lucy has really had an impact, hasn't she? *It was only half a joke. He continued genuinely, still smiling,* Apology accepted. Honestly though, it's past. *And he'd never really cared, not for himself: at least not since the time he'd been twelve or thirteen when Leah's family had suddenly become his and virulently rebelled against the idea in what seemed like two seconds. Frederick's attitude towards Lucy had pissed him off more -- though, he guessed it was fair to say he hadn't exactly been surprised by it either. He pauses, still feeling odd, adding himself slowly.* I understand you pulled me out of the ballroom? *His chin comes up.* Thanks. Frederick: *He was actually genuinely amused, half amused, as Thomas made a show out of making sure he had listened to Rick correctly. Let no one tell Rick he was predictable in the slightest, especially not today when he was managing to surprise both pureblood and muggleborn alike. The mention of Lucy softened his expression into a smile as he nodded once* She has. *From the very first moment he had spoken to her actually, when she tossed aside all his belief that she was just another easily wooed peasant girl. Nodding in answer to his question, he was actually relieved to be the one accepting the gratitude this time, it felt a bit more even to him. He nodded again.* You're welcome. *He felt it bad manners to mention he did so to both not deal with the man's accusing glares and stay close to Lucy in the mean time.* Thomas: *He didn't miss Frederick's softening expression-- he wasn't a simpleton, and he was glad to note it. He wondered if his face changed so much when someone said Beth's name. Actually, his expression probably softened just thinking her name--great, fantastic, he scrunched up his nose and said genially,* We really should plant her in the middle of the court then. Seeing as how I don't think it's just usual magic she possesses. *He shrugs a shoulder, lips quirked up in a smirk - even as he knew why that wasn't possible now - as he resumed fetching the bed sheet, dragging it out and saying lightly, now they were even and all,* Think you could help me hang this? Frederick: *He snorted once, chuckling softly afterwards, wishing it could be that easy. Frederick might not have been the easiest person to convince but he was nowhere near as bad as half of the court. But he didn't want to think about that now. Blinking once at the request, he asked uncertainly even as he stepped forward* Do you mean by hand? Thomas: *He bit back a comment instantly he was sure the boys at the tavern would have found amusing regarding his hand. It felt impolite; Frederick has just lost his home, after all. And Lucy probably would have kicked him. So instead he just nodded again - though his smirk might have flicked up.* Yeah. *He went to toss a side of the sheet to him, trying to be patient, gesturing with his head.* See the rings? We can hook it up through there, tie it off and clothespin it. Give you a little bit of privacy anyways. Frederick: *He caught the sheet as it was tossed to him, looking between the material and the rings and the clothespin, not thoroughly understanding how it was meant to stay up. He looked back to Thomas* Why don't you just use magic to hang it up? Thomas: *He shrugged as he walked towards the rings, using the distraction to turn his back.* Well, for one thing I'm in town, where probably ninety percent of the people would find a sheet floating odd and I'd end up at the Ministry. *His nose wrinkled, knowing that wasn't really the reason and turned back to him while he extended the sheet up, bunching the material together in his hands.* And it's unnecessary, I've got plenty of clothespins around. More natural. *He bit his lip, curious.* It's less natural to you, isn't it? Frederick: *Well, he supposed that made a little more sense. Still, he was positive there was to hang it up without actually having to...put it up themselves. He might have kept insisting but it wasn't his house, so Rick kept quiet and tried to mimic what Thomas was doing.* it's just not what I'm used to, I suppose. Thomas: *He didn't laugh, but he might have cracked a smile (or two, why should this make him a bad person?) seeing Frederick struggle to hook it around the ring. Waiting patiently, as he pinned the clothespin, he tried to think about how it was at their manors and the court: tried to imagine a world where magic was so common place. Now he understood what Adelina meant when she said "bizarre" with the capital B.* I guess to me it feels like when we make it all so easy on ourselves we lose something. Don't really know how to explain what, just...I like accomplishing things with my own hands, magic takes half the fun out of it. *he pauses and then admits with a smirk* I'll do the dishes magically though. Frederick: And half of the time too. *He tried not to frown, but the fact that he had been stumped by such a seemingly simple object was enough reason to start frowning and Thomas' added amusement didn't help matters. Then again, laughter and mockery were things he was steeling himself for.* I don't know any cleaning spells. Is it easy to learn? Thomas: *chuckles, shrugging a shoulder again as he wiped his hands off* Well, sure. There's never a shortage of things to do, maybe that's why, but I think it lets people let loose more. *Leaning away from the sheet, he went to fetch an ale, asking as he went* Want a drink? *It wasn't until he had the bottle out and was pouring that he realized it wasn't exactly fine wine or refined liquor, and found himself wondering briefly if it was going to be too strong for him -- or maybe too weak, he'd never had their liquor.* Not that difficult. I don't really have a knack for them though. Lucy either. Karyn's pretty good at them, but she'd deny that. Too much a housewife skill for her, I think. Frederick: I'll have to see for myself, I suppose. *And remember to keep from doing magic in plain sight. At the mention of a drink, Rick nodded.* Yeah, thanks. *He really wish he didn't have to keep showing gratitude, he was unused to it. Frederick didn't know much about Karyn except what he'd heard from Lucy and the briefest of interactions with her, none described as pleasant.* I'm surprised she hasn't shown up to threaten me yet. Thomas: *He nods as he pours, smiling to himself. Offering the mug as he turned back, his words were light and bemused,* Bad sign she hasn't, she's probably somewhere refining the words. *As Frederick took it, he licked his thumb to catch the stray ale and then took his own sip, eyes still on him a bit narrowed.* As to that, I just figured it went without saying on my end. I could point out that Arthur, Ken, Hector and Mitch look at Luce as a sister too, but you probably already know that. *He nods to himself before saying plainly,* Besides, nothing I could say is worse a threat than Lucy being out of your life. Right? Frederick: *Taking the mug, he replied dryly* Quite talented with those if I remember correctly. *He might not be, he was rather drunk that day, or hungover, one of the two. He took a sip of the brown ale and tried not to grimace. That was disgusting. Snorting at the reminder, he took another sip just to keep a comment back, otherwise they -would- kill each other before Lucy returned. Smirking at the end, he nodded and spoke honestly* I already lived through that hell, no one can do anything worse to me. *He took another sip and then wiped the back of his mouth. The ale was pretty close though.* Thomas: Aye, she is. *His nose wrinkled up before he took a sip, decidedly curious as to whether or not Frederick had liked the drink: his face was impassive. Course, Thomas figured if he hadn't, and was hiding it, it was yet another polite courtesy he was being offered he'd never have expected from Frederick.* That's what I thought. *He agreed easily, a smirk back on his lips as his expression cleared. His next words were light again.* Lucy might have headed Karyn off, actually. *curious* What...are, you planning on doing? Frederick: *A damn good question. Frederick was never much of a planner, which wasn't surprising given that a few hours ago he didn't even know where he was going to be sleeping. He shrugged* Next? Find work. *How hard could having a job be, right?....* Thomas: *Okay, he was surprised, he was, though not by the pragmatism, but he kept it hidden as he took another sip, leaning against his counter.* Right. Any idea where? *He paused.* And then what? Frederick: Lucy suggested the tavern...if I don't get a job there then...*he frowned, realizing he didn't know for sure and then shrugged* Wherever they take me. *He took a quick sip of the foul tasting drink before continuing* Then, save money and get my own place. Thomas: Oh, right. *That made sense; though he still thought it was gonna shock Frederick how much work a barrista did. He'd have to work on the not-smiling-and-enjoying-this-so-much, but. At least he was being polite? Eyes going wider as Frederick continues, he asks, blunt but calm, free of judgment (he hoped)* Well, the tavern does need someone. So you...have no intention of returning to the court? Frederick: None. *it was difficult expressing it out loud, as it made it more definite but it was the truth. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before he elaborated more* Cyrus, my father, he made it very clear: my title or Lucy. I made my decision and I'm not going anywhere without her ever again. *He drank the rest of the ale and wondered briefly if his entire throat and stomach would be covered in the brown liquid- could very well be toxic.* Thomas: *He knew who Cyrus was, even though besides the one conversation Lucy had told him about she never mentioned him. He wasn't surprised Frederick called him by his first name though, as he did the same thing. Finishing off his own mug and setting it down, he smiled genuinely as he spoke simply,* Good for you. Lucy: *No screaming voices...that had to be a good sign. She still knocked to alert them to her return, holding a little basket with the chicken and three potatoes she had ended up grabbing before being grabbed by Karyn. They...they were sitting, having a drink. It only took one glance to Frederick to know he had not liked the drink - probably was thinking wistfully of the scotch Charles had brought - but he'd drunk it anyways. Oh, so stubborn. An adoring, knowing smile lifting naturally as she looked at him, she asked sweetly, teasing* You two look cozy. Anything I should know about? Frederick: *Looking towards the door at the knock, he was happy, and relieved honestly, to see Lucy was back. Smiling, he chuckled for a moment before he shrugged, adding simply* Only that we're capable of civility after all. *In speech and actions at least, thoughts were a different matter entirely* Thomas: *He had raised a hand to gesture to himself, 'who me?' but now he chuckled, folding arms across his chest.* Shocking, we know. Lucy: *She leans down to kiss Frederick's cheek -- she couldn't quite believe he was real still -- before going for knives and spices, chuckling.* Not that shocking. You're better people than you give yourselves credit for. *She was on her toes to pull down sage and rosemary, knowing where Thomas kept it.* Karyn says hello. *Turning around with a sudden smile,* Oh, and Henry proposed to Angelina.

[fycourtera]

{chapter seventeen: 11} rick, cyrus

Frederick: *His mother had warned him that father was, for some reason or another, in one of the worst moods he’s had in a while. Rick winced and wished he didn’t have to be sober during this. If his father wanted to see him while he was in this state, Frederick could only imagine what he had done wrong this time. He had ensured all documents arrived at the ministry as was instructed, he had spoken to all of the servants regarding the increase in their wages, and even refrained from practicing with his sword today, so what could be the problem? Oh, damn, he knew he had forgotten something. As he entered his father’s study, he nodded* You summoned me father? *He licked his lips, and waited a few seconds in which his father remained silent, his head bowed over a big leather book* If this is about those reports- Cyrus: *he closed the book shut and then looked up at his son, the words from earlier weighing heavily on his mind. But he couldn’t bring that up, not at that moment, there was another thing to get out of the way first* It’s not about the reports. *He narrowed his eyes as he surveyed him. He would have never expected this from Frederick. He was always so outwardly spiteful of muggleborns and yet he had apparently had a tryst with one. With Frederick it was always one extreme or another; rarely was there a middle ground.* I know about Lucy Harte. Frederick: *His face visibly whitened, his breathing stopped, his heart rate spiked and fear crossed his eyes. How could his father know? Had Etta told him? Or Jane? They were the only ones that knew. If they had…his jaw clenched and he looked down, not being able to meet his father’s eyes.* Father, I…*he cleared his throat, shaking his head* It isn’t… Cyrus: *He watched his son closely, unsure of whether he was relieved or worried to see the shame on his face. It didn’t matter, he supposed, not right at that moment* It doesn’t matter what it used to be, it is over. *His tone was final, his gaze stern* I trust I don’t need to remind you that such interaction as of right now and until Lord Damocles says otherwise, is against the law. Therefore, you are not to speak to her again. Frederick: *his head snapped up, whatever anger he had towards whoever might have told his father the truth was being redirected at the man in front of him himself. His teeth gritted, his eyes narrowed* And if the law changes? Cyrus: *His eyebrows rose to see the defiance in his son’s eyes, and it was with a firm voice that he voiced his next statement* My instructions remain. I’ve spoken to her Frederick, and I will not tolerate such insolence from anyone we associate with. We- Frederick: *he took a step forward, snapping*Do not speak of her that way again. Cyrus: *He stood up, his eyes narrowed* Careful how you address me, Frederick. I am your father. Frederick: *he exhaled, and shook his head, his anger bubbling through, past containment* Some kind of father you are to order me away from the one single person on this world that actually makes me genuinely happy. *His lips pursed together* You met her once and you already deemed her unworthy of me? Because she’s supposedly so far below our station? Cyrus: *he spoke through gritted teeth*Because she’s a disrespectful and rude little girl. Because it is illegal. Because I do not want scandals of any kind, Frederick. Frederick: A scandal? Oh father, I could easily make a scandal out of it; I didn’t. I went to her in secret, met her in secret, fell in love with her in secret, and you know what? I am so bloody tired of watching everything I say, of listening to these dumb aristocrats insulting her and her kind, and most of all I’m tired of trying to stay away from her. Cyrus: *His nostrils flaring, he took a step away from his desk, his voice tight and enraged* It is forbidden! Frederick: *he steeled himself, standing up straighter and looking at his father in the eyes* I don’t care. I’m going to her and if they want to lock me up for it afterwards well they can bloody try, because unless you haven’t noticed, I haven’t met anyone who can go toe to toe with me on my worst day, let alone my best. Cyrus: Frederick Brackner, I am your father, and your Lord, you will show me some respect- Frederick: You should show Lucy some respect! She’s worth ten times of anybody at this court. And I treated her horribly. *he swallowed dryly, shaking his head* But I won’t let you treat her that way. She’s more than just a muggleborn who would besmirch our precious family name. Cyrus: I don’t care if she’s a saint, or if she’s the most educated person there is Frederick; you. will. not. see. her. again. Frederick: *He breathed heavily and then took a couple of more steps forward until he was right in front of his father. Leaning in, he only said two words* Fuck you. *he turned away from him suddenly, intending to walk out of the study* Cyrus: *Appalled and furious, his voice boomed out as he shouted at his son’s back* FREDERICK! If you walk out of here right now, I will not allow you to return. Frederick: *The threat was real, Rick knew that. His shoulders hunched low for a moment, and he closed his eyes, breathing before he straightened up again and kept walking, opening the door and then slamming it shut behind him. He didn’t want to be here if it meant living like this. He didn’t want this life if it meant living it without Lucy. He was just angry it had taken him this long to figure that out. He was so enraged, so glad to just walk out of there that he didn’t even stop to pack anything. He ran into his mother on his way out, her eyes wide, her voice pleading, asking him where he was going, what had happened, to stay. He couldn’t, he shook his head and shrugged out of her hold* I can’t, mother. I’m sorry. *He moved quickly out of his family’s quarters, out of the hallways, out of the manor, just away from court and towards Lucy. He’d beg for forgiveness for an eternity if it was necessary, but he couldn’t stay away from her any longer*

[fycourtera]

{chapter seventeen: 9} rick, joseph

Joseph: *His steps were as unharried as his manner, despite the long walk. He had been at the Ministry, he was tired, but he had far too much to do to rest and could never afford to show that fatigue. It had been two weeks since Marietta had accepted his proposal, and while he knew the family was already aware, he wanted to speak with them before any kind of official announcement was given in the press. Etta's siblings deserved the same respect he had shown her parents -- and in particular, her oldest brother, for he would be Lord after her father. After testing that there was no stray lint on his jacket, nor twist in his tie, he raised his head and nodded at the manservant.* Would you please tell Lord Frederick, Joseph Culpeper is here to see him? *His smile was kind and wide as he was obeyed.* Thank you. *He sat in the chair of the study, as ever patient, flattening the tie down as he sat.* Frederick: *It was truly remarkable how even hot water could do nothing to alleviate his stress. He was sure that if someone looked they would be able to see clearly defined knots etched across his shoulders and back. Well, along with the bruises he got every day from sword-fighting. After getting dressed once more and drying his hair with a spell, he turned to look as his servant entered his bedchamber to inform him that Joseph Culpeper awaited him in the study. Frederick didn't know whether to be annoyed (for he was contemplating ignoring everyone for the rest of the day due to feeling a bit ill), curious, or cautious. Probably the last two, though. Whatever Joseph wanted to talk about, he assumed it involved Marietta. He nodded, thanking the servant and instructing him to return to his normal duties; Rick could walk to the study by himself. After ensuring he looked presentable, he stepped out of his chambers, closing the door behind him and made his way to the study.* Lord Joseph. *He greeted politely as he stepped into the room, a pleasant expression on his face at least, if he could not afford a smile* To what do I owe this visit? Joseph: *Not minding at all the wait, he thanked the servant on their way by him back to whatever duties they had, and continued sitting still. Though he hardly even appeared to breathe, his mind was awhirl with a hundred different thoughts: those of the laws he was working for and against, the complications of the new security measures -- oh, he supported Lord Damocles wholeheartedly of course publicly, but privately was a different matter. ...if only because Leah had put an extra silencing charm on his study, and ranted herself hoarse just to keep herself from "needing to scream later." These thoughts were driven from his mind as his future brother in law stepped into the room. He stood, of course, it was only polite, a small smile on his lips.* Oh, please just call me Joseph. We are about to be family, after all. *He nodded his head at him, and then asked lightly, turning* Is there water? *He was about to ask for a scotch, but remembering what Etta had said about alcohol with Frederick, he decided to restrain. Besides, Leah might have made him hoarse by association too: water would be good. As he turned back, his own expression was equally pleasant.* I simply wanted to make a few things plain, that's all. I don't have the fortune to have siblings, but I understand on a general level how ... protective we are of them. *His lips twitch, his words honest.* I thought you should know I hold your sister's best interests at heart. And while I'm not asking you to trust me without evidence, obviously...I hope in time we can be friends. Frederick: *His lips twitched; there was no denying that the man could be amiable. But if Etta was choosing to marry him, he would be more worried about those instances in which kindness gave away.* Can I offer you a drink then, Joseph? *Frederick thought that having a visitor would mean he'd actually have an excuse to have a drink, in order to share it with the man, but was proven wrong when his future brother as he called it, asked for water. The Brackners didn't have cellars filled with -water-.* Of course. *He headed to one of the glass cabinets, taking out two glasses and conjuring a pitcher of ice water. He looked up from pouring the water as Joseph turned back to explain the reason for his visit. He listened, and poured, and then walked back to hand Joseph his glass of water* Ah, unfortunately I have a hard time making friends. *It said jokingly, but it was the truth. He took a sip of the water for something to do before he continued* My sister's best interests...differ extensively from other people. I've known her all my life and I still can't tell you what she wants. *he licks his lips* I guess what I'm trying to get at is, are you quite positive you have all her interests at heart? Or just the ones that match yours? Joseph: *Taking the glass, he said courteously,* Thank you. *His gratitude was obvious, but he waited until he had taken a refreshing, brisk sip before he explained with a smaller grin,* I was arguing with some of the men at the Ministry, and then your cousin visited me, so. *He held the glass loosely in his hand as he moved to sit again, saying plainly,* Leah can be persistent. *Oh that was an understatement. At the joke about his ability to make friends, Joseph let out only a brief chuckle, getting the feeling it wasn't entirely a joke.* I suppose I'll have to hold out hope I can be a special case, then. *It was equally joking, before Joseph paused to take another sip and focusing on listening. An immediate 'perhaps you haven't been listening' crossed his mind at the half joke on Etta's desires, but then...he hadn't known what he wanted for half his life and either way, it would be incredibly rude to say, and he had no desire to cause strife.*I've known your sister a long time, *His lips twitch* And you're absolutely right. Though, frankly, I can't tell what most women want. *This was part of why men were so much easier, he thought with an inner sigh and eye roll. Aloud, he said genially, and frankly,* I wouldn't dream I know all of what she wants, so I can't speak to 'all,' Frederick--I can call you Frederick? *Well, he was going to be nothing if not honest. Continuing just as plainly, he let the glass rest on his knee.* But before agreeing to this engagement, Etta and I had an extended conversation in which we discussed everything likely to cause disagreements or issues: we both want children, we will back each other politically, that sort of thing. *His lips twitch, eyes locked on Rick's before he said another word, letting the statement fall with weight.* In particular, in regards to children the conversation was a bit more interesting. *He kept his gaze on Rick, his voice much more heavy now before saying simply,* I am aware of your sister's preference, Frederick, I accept it. *He saw no harm admitting,* In fact, I'd be the worst kind of hypocrite if I didn't, *if only because if he wanted the man to trust him with his sister, he had to give a little trust to get it.* I have no desire to make her unhappy or to use her-- anymore than she says she wishes to use me. Our engagement is one of friendship and mutual benefit above anything else. *He shrugs a shoulder, adding just as frankly,* Which we have both been told our whole lives that was the point of the institution, haven't we? *His voice is a little softer, as he admits,* I wish to make her happy, however, and for that...I might need your help. I already know what kind of jewels and dresses she likes -- and drinks -- *They were Brackners, after all, he thought amused* -- but, as for what I cannot give her...*There was no accusation in his voice, his gaze did not waver, he kept his expression pleasant.* ...She told me about Carrie. So I suppose my first question would be, if she did merely abandon her, because if so I have no further inquiry but---if not, if she left out of fear, or another reason, and there is a way, that I could find her...I would like to.  Frederick: You just came from Leah? *he raised his eyebrows as he sat down across the man, his lips flicking up into a small smirk* Are you quite sure you don't need whiskey instead? *Did water always taste like...nothing? He couldn't recall given that he hadn't actually drank water when he was already hydrated in...very long. He chuckled at the equally joking remark. At the comment of Joseph not knowing what women wanted in general, he couldn't help a snort and a nod of agreement. It was habit that had him taking a sip of his glass, even if the drink residing in it did nothing to quench the slight pang that started in his chest.* Go right ahead. *They were going to be brothers, were they not? Might as well use his name. He listened intently, having already figured that this marriage was one that must have been...carefully calculated and premeditated. It was Etta, after all, and she had never once shown interest in marriage except perhaps maybe back when their Uncle Garrett was getting married to Aunt Evelyn, and his sister couldn't breathe for how much she bounced and squealed in happiness. The thought of children made him slightly uncomfortable, half because he didn't want to think of Etta in that way, and half because it was just one that was so far from his own thoughts that he didn't know what to make of it at first. Actually, all the information he kept receive was having the same effect on him. He took another sip of water, and nodded slowly. A hypocrite, he had said. He wasn't slow, he knew what Joseph had been implying with that statement. Why the man chose to trust him with that information, he had more difficulty figure that out. Nevertheless, it wouldn't matter to Rick even if the man liked to lie down with cows, he was just glad that Joseph understood his sister. The next inquire however, had him sitting up straighter, frowning* She told you about her? *He pursed his lips, wondering exactly how much unspoken judgement his future brother was throwing his way.* You want to find her? And do what? Bring her back? *eyebrows rise in pure shock* It's been...eight years. Carrie might not even remember her, she could have forgotten all about her, or worse yet, remember back with a laugh of that one summer she managed to seduce a Lord's daughter- I'm sorry, Joseph. *he shook his head* I cannot help you on this. Joseph: *He chuckled once and waved his hand off.* Perhaps later. Right now, I just need my throat to not be...quite so dry. *And Etta had told him of her mild concern, so he wasn't going to press the matter if he was sober now. That, of course, wouldn't be proper to reveal. Seeing the shock register on his future brother's face, he didn't mind waiting. He merely took a sip, let the glass rest back on the end table with a clink and folded his hands on his lap.* Or she might be sitting somewhere miserably pining for Etta--I do not know. Frederick, I would not bring her back if either of those things were true--I would merely want to talk to her first. *He exhales.* And then I would want to know what Etta would like: to see her again or not. But my impression is that their love was torn apart, that there was no seduction involved. *Honestly, again his tone was free of judgment. Besides, in Joseph's opinion, that wasn't Rick's fault: he had done what he thought was right, was trying to help his sister, and had been burned for it.* I only mention this, so that you know I truly do want your sister to be happy, that I understand it isn't going to be the most traditional of marriages. Either way, there's no need to apologize. I didn't think there was much chance you knew. *He shrugged a shoulder, going for another sip, before saying lighter, his lips twitching.* And thank you, for not reacting with horror. Frederick: *Pining for eight years? That couldn't possibly...could it? Carrie couldn't possibly feel that deeply for his sister. Not because of his sister, God no, Etta was brilliant, spectacular, insane but weren't all Brackners insane? No, the reason why he didn't believe that was that Carrie was just such a...wild, vivacious, girl. She toyed too much, played too much, for her feelings to have been real. And could Etta still wish to see Carrie after all of these years? He couldn't help but to have his thoughts turn inward. Would he want to see Lucy eight years from now if things were left unresolved? The thought made a hole burn in his chest. No, it was not the same. Etta might have had such feelings for Carrie, yes, but it had been eight years. She was smarter than that...she couldn't possibly be so...he had to stifle a chuckle when he realized the word he was looking for was human. Taking another drink of water, he sighed, nodding, his lips pursed. Maybe the correct words should be that he wouldn't help Joseph, not that he couldn't. He shrugged, a smirk on his lips* I'm a Brackner. Very little horrifies us anymore. *he set the empty glass of water on the table in front of him* Thank you for coming to me, Joseph...it certainly has put quite a few doubts at ease. Joseph: *Whatever Rick was thinking through, he simply let him do so. It wasn't his business. Truthfully, he thought the ghost of Carrie could do more harm than good--but if he did manage to find her, then the question would at least be answered. He would not look long, before he'd seek to find another way that Etta could merely gain closure. He chuckles at Rick's statement, and shrugs a shoulder, admitting with his own light smirk,* I suppose. We have that in common, then. *He finished off the glass of water, still chuckling.* Of course, Frederick. Etta talks of you often, you know. *Or at least had that week, she hadn't for a long time, and they did have a lot of other things going on. Still, it was a decent amount.* As for your first question...I wouldn't say we'll never disagree, because that would be frankly naive of me, but what I can promise you is your sister's health, emotional and otherwise, is of paramount importance to me, whatever our disagreements. *He knew too well the perils some wives could face, and it was that worry above all else he wanted to let rest. Standing now, he went to take his hand -- he gathered that Frederick was not too up for company at the moment, and did not want to press his time. Brotherhood bonding would have to wait another day, he supposed.* You should stop by, sometime. *He said it as pleasantly and genially as he had said anything else, allowing with a smirk,* Maybe for that whiskey. Frederick: *Oh, good. He so did appreciate people who knew how to smirk, and given his family, it was almost a requirement for entering it. They might not have to be entirely antagonistic after all, even if Joseph was going to be marrying his sister. Actually, now that he thought about it, he'd rather it be Joseph than anybody else he could think of. Good grief, he was just happy to have Matthew Weston out of the picture, that man was unbearable.* Everyone talks of me often. *the remark was so easy, so resembling of how he used to act in simpler times, he almost laughed at it. He listened to the rest, inclining his head, showing he understood what Joseph meant about disagreements* Of course. No marriage is smooth, I suppose. *He had it on good authority, at least. He stood up and shook Joseph's hand, an easy smirk playing on his face at the invitation* I'll remember that. Good day to you, Joseph.