#lord Remington x f/Reader

[cursivetalk]

Morning Light

Chapter 1

Remington Leith X F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: very brief mention of blood

Summary: in the year 1855, you received an invitation for a ball. One of the young lords catches your interest but you'd never imagined that it would be the most meaningful night of your life

Info: this right here was the idea of the wonderful, talented @remingtonisleithal and she was awesome enough to let me collaborate with her on this series. This will be a multi-chapter story that will be posted chapter by chapter, alternatingly between both our accounts. The next chapter will be posted on @remingtonisleithal

As the mist rolled into the courtyard, the night air became thick with an ominous feeling. Tonight was the night someone would die. 

But the orchestra continued inside the sandstone estate, without knowledge or perhaps simply without care. Dancing people under lit chandeliers cast shadows of figures drunk on champagne and their own beauty. Drinking, dancing, gossiping, betting; the works. And Remington was bored, wasting his time waiting for something to start. He just didn’t know what, until she walked in. 

And good Lord, had he been living long but never encountered a person quite like this. She looked dashing, beautiful even. Remington had met a lot of beautiful people in his life - sure, how could he have not? - but no one had ever enchanted him like her. The dress flowed down her body like water, hugging her upper body with thin layers of sky blue silk that got thicker towards the ground. Golden embroidery in soft curls made her look ethereal, a curved neckline with off-the-shoulder sleeves made her truly a vision to behold. He could hear her blood pumping through the veins on her neck from across the room, calling out. Not that Remington would listen to that call. No, he never killed merely to satisfy his hunger. 

It was hypnotic in a way, the rhythm that sped up at the mass of people in front of her and slowed down as she found a familiar face in the crowd. She made her way through the room, a kind smile on her face that made her even more beautiful.

Remington's interest was piqued. 

For now, he stayed where he was, trapped in a conversation he wasn't the least invested in while his eyes followed her across the room.

The conversation ended and Remington saw her standing alone. He took his chance, making his way over to her.

“It is a pleasure to have you at our estate, miss…?” Remington spoke softly, trailing off with a smile, and hoping the woman would understand that there were so many people here that he didn’t know half of them. 

She understood “Y/N.” she said with an ever so slight curtsy. 

“What a lovely name.” Remington said. “I’m Remington.” 

“Well, what a lovely name.” Y/N returned with a cheeky grin, gaining a chuckle from Remington. She took a look around for a moment, taking in the music, the dancing, the handsome stranger next to her. “You’ve a beautiful manor.” 

“Thank you.” he replied, unclear of what to say next. Those eyes had captivated him, it was a wonder he was still able to form words at all. 

Remington noticed a slight frown cross Y/N’s face, brows furrowed, a look of hopelessness in her eyes as she met the gaze of someone across the room. He was about to ask if she was alright when she spoke. 

“Forgive me for being so forward, but would you like to dance?” she asked. Remington blinked a few times in surprise at the bold move (she was a woman in the 1800s, after all, so this was unexpected) and he couldn’t trust his lips with words, instead offering a smile and his hand. 

He led her to the centre of the room as the orchestra started a new song. He bowed. She curtsied. They got closer together and began to dance on the outside as their hearts danced within. There was just something about her, she was important somehow. An enigma, a wonderful mystery he wanted to dive into. 

"You dance very well," Remington broke the silence between them. He couldn't help but feel foolish for the plump words but he longed for a conversation with the captivating woman in front of him.

She smiled at the compliment, a faint blush dusting her skin. There was no telling whether it came from the exercise or his words. "You as well, my lord."

"Just Remington, please," he insisted. The title was a formality, a distance where Remington wanted to be as close as the little time they had spent so far would allow. 

A change in song held Y/N back from reacting. Instead, she just nodded as the melody carried her away. Remington's eyes followed her skirts that swished as her partner swirled her around. A cold hand gripped for his heart as the man's arm fell lower and lower on her waist.

Their eyes found each other over the heads of the crowd. The uneasiness sent Remington flying to her side. "I believe I promised you a drink, Miss Y/N."

"A drink would be great," her hand fitted itself on top of his forearm, the fingernails digging down. There was no mistaken in the fact that she'd rather be with a man she spent merely one dance with than the one that was right in front of her.

Her former dance partner glared at Remington as he whisked Y/N away but the lord didn't spare him even a glance. The woman next to him was far more important. True to his words, Remington brought her to the refreshments table and handed her a glass of champagne but unlike one would expect, he wasn't happy with staying where they were.

It was a good thing that the manor belonged to his family. Y/N still on his arm, Remington went through the glass doors towards the faintly illuminated garden. The cold air didn't bother him much but he felt Y/N shiver. So he slipped out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders, balancing the glass in his free hand.

"Thank you," she said quietly and pulled it closer with one hand.

Remington felt his silent heart warm at the gesture. She felt safe in his clothing. "It's nothing. Are you okay?"

"Much better now," she was smiling again, this time genuinely. It was the most beautiful thing Remington had ever seen in his life.

The faint light of the lanterns all over the garden reflected in her eyes, making their colour stand out almost magically as she was looking up at him. The corners of her mouth were turned up as if she was waiting for his next words to make her laugh again. That was an expression Remington was familiar with and still it was so much more interesting on the woman in front of him.

"Why did you bring me out here? A little bit of intimacy maybe?" 

Once again, she surprised him with her words. There was a teasing tone underneath them, one no one dared to use with him on the first day of knowing him. It intrigued Remington and made the need to learn more about her all the more important to him. 

For now, he settled on laughing lowly and leaning against the tree he had guided Y/N to. The manor was still in eye distance, even through the fog. Remington wanted Y/N to feel safe with him, not like he was pushing her into a dark corner. "I have to admit that you're not entirely wrong. But not entirely right either. I wanted to grant you some peace and grant me a little bit of time to get to know an intriguing woman."

"Well here I am. What would you like to know?" She was getting more confident with every new word she addressed to him.

A man with less self control would have kissed the words from her lips. But Remington wasn't that man. "Who taught you to dance like that for starters."

A startled laugh fell from her mouth at the unexpected question. She answered him a heartbeat later that her father taught her.

Remington asked her every question he deemed harmlessly friendly enough and slowly pieced together the puzzle that was the woman in front of him. In exchange, he offered bits and pieces of his own life and a few stories that he knew would amuse her.

Unfortunately, they couldn't stay outside forever, against Remington's strongest wishes. Their glasses empty, cheeks red from the cold, they went back inside and mingled with the crowd. The music wasn't playing for now so conversations had to suffice as entertainment. Remington always kept an eye on Y/N and noticed her watching him in return more than once.

Finally, the orchestra took their seats again (Remington presumed that Emerson had a hand in that as the youngest of them had always picked up the faintest nuances in their state of mind) and played a waltz. It took one eyebrow raised for Y/N to nod and let him lead her back to the dancefloor.

They danced for hours, exchanging a few words. They felt as if they already knew one other, and were at peace in each other’s arms. To stay like this forever would have been bliss. But the unforgiving night had other ideas, and Time marched on. The orchestra stopped. People said goodbye. And Y/N got lost in the crowd.

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