Are You Calling Me a Sinner? [M]

[DragonSong]

@wandering_giraffe

[M for heavy themes/probably eventual Demonic Horror Stuff]


Ilia had only been to the capital twice before. Once as a very young child, on a trip that her father had referred to as "business", which she did not remember particularly well. And then again just two years ago, to attend a ball during her first official season "out" in Connlaothian society.

The buildings were certainly beautiful, no one could deny that. But she thought she rather preferred the sprawling grounds of their manor back in Uthlyn, where there were a few hidden spots that a person could stand in and pretend for a few moments that they weren't in a city at all.

But she wasn't here to judge aesthetics; she was on a mission.

The mansion she was looking for was not difficult to spot. It seemed her quarry was not overly concerned with anonymity. The problem would be getting inside. She had a calling card, but she knew she would hardly be expected.

Still, acting as though you belonged in a place could open a great many doors, she had learned. So she patted her thigh and called, "Come, Twyla," as she strode confidently up the long drive to the large, imposing doors. Her little cat mewed a protest, but abandoned her exploration of the shrubbery that lined the walkway and came scampering after her.

Ilia cleared her throat when she finally reached the doors, brushing one hand down the front of her skirts and reaching up to pat at her hair, making sure she looked every bit the young noblewoman she was meant to be, before she reached out to clap the massive iron knocker against the wood twice.

"Hello? Is there a Master Blackthorn in? I'd like an audience, please, if he's available."

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin was...well...rather engrossed in a very intense chess match with his butler. He had just made a very important weapons deal and was celebrating by engaging in a battle. Well, a mental battle, but Vaelin enjoyed those just as much as physical ones.
"And I move my bishop to place your king in checkmate, hence," and Vaelin paused for dramatic effect, "checkmate."
He grinned, laying back in his seat.
His butler, Alistair, scowled, studying the chess board.
"Master BlackThorn, I do believe that you forgot about my rook. I castle my rook and king, capturing yours, and ending the game in a true checkmate."
He took a sip of his tea.
Vaelin's grin dropped, Vaelin abruptly leaning forward.
"That's not possible! How did I miss that?"
Alistair laughed, adding more sugar into his tea. 
"You tend to miss the very small details, sir. Which is why I'm here, most of the time. It just doesn't work out when you happen to be against me in a chess game."
Vaelin sighed.
"Well said, as usual Alistair. Best two out of three?"
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.
Alistair stood up.
"Duty calls, sir."
Vaelin stood up as well, adjusting his coat. He was worried that it might be the prestigious duke he just made a deal with.
"No, I need to answer the door this time, Alistair."
And with that, Vaelin left the living hall and went to the front door.
He opened the door.
"Well , you're certainly not who I was expecting—-Do I know you?" And he looked curiously at the lady and her cat.

[DragonSong]

"Hello!" Ilia positively beamed at him. "I'm not sure that we've ever been formally introduced, actually--my name is Ilia Amaranth."

She knew he would recognize her surname, if nothing else. It had been a long time since he'd seen her; she wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize her. She hardly remembered him, really. But some snooping through her father's old records had definitely shed some light on that particular chapter of their lives--and since Varyyn didn't seem all that inclined to fix things, she supposed it was up to her.

Her expression softened a bit as she looked Vaelin over. "You, ah...you look well," she said quietly.

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin sucked in a breath as he heard the name "Amaranth". He hadn't thought about that name in a long time.
"You're...Varryn's daughter? I thought I rather recognized your face," he paused, looking rather uncomfortable. You shouldn't be here. It's not safe. If your father finds out you've been here..." He slammed the door in her face, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. But maybe he should talk to the girl. That was the least he could do.
He opened the door again.
"I'm sorry for the rudeness, but this is an awful lot to process. What brought you here anyways? Is," he hesitated. "Is Varryn alright?"

[DragonSong]

Well. All things considered, she supposed a slammed door was really on the lighter side of poor outcomes.

She had just scooped up Twyla, scratching the cat's ears as she debated knocking again or perhaps returning on a different day when the door opened once more.

"Oh." She smiled at him, a little nervously. "No no, he's--Father's quite fine. Actually, he's--we, I suppose--there's a dinner tonight," she said in a rush. She reached into the small handbag at her wrist and produced a calling card with the address of their townhouse. "It's mostly a business meeting, but, um... He would really like it if you attended. I just think he...he was unsure if it would be appropriate to ask you himself."

She smiled a little wider. "So I'm doing it."

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin folded his arms.
"How do I know this isn't a trick to get me there and then kill me?"
He eyed the card suspiciously. After the incident he hadn't ever talked to Varryn. And why would he? The man had double-crossed him, ruining his business and practically forcing him to start over.
"But he asked you to invite me?" And he raised an eyebrow. Quite strange, especially after he had just finished making a weapons deal.
But he cautiously took the card, reading it over and sighing.
"I guess I'll come. What time do I need to be there?" The slightest hint of a small smile was showing in his eyes. He hadn't gone to any sort of social function in a long time. 

[DragonSong]

"Kill you?!" Ilia practically squawked, staring at him with wide eyes. "Wh--no, of course not!"

Surely things hadn't ended that badly between them? she knew Vaelin had every right to be angry with her father, but... Surely that was a joke. Or at least an exaggeration.

She seemed to settle some when he took the card, and even tried for another smile, albeit more cautious this time. Choosing not to answer his question about Varyyn asking her to invite him, she said, "We'll have everything ready at seven, but a few of Father's guests won't be arriving until eight. You're welcome to arrive any time between, if you like."

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, some of her "proper lady" demeanor bleeding away to show the girl beneath. "It, um..." She licked her lips nervously, then murmured, "It's...nice to see you again. I'm sure you don't remember me much, but...ahem. Anyway."

She gave her head a little shake, then beamed another polite smile at him, all her airs back in place. "I do hope I'll see you this evening, Master Blackthorn."

[wandering_giraffe]

Based on Ilia's reaction, it seemed that nobody was planning to kill him there. Well, one could never be too careful.
He mustered up a small smile.
"Well then, I shall be there at 7 o' clock sharp." He stood there for a second, thinking, twirling his handkerchief.
"I assume the dress code is more formal than not? At any rate, I'll be there, I can assure you."
He gave her a small, quick bow.
"Thank you for the invitation, Ilia. Goodbye until tonight."
And he closed the door, staring at the door for a good minute.

Vaelin needed some time to process this. He went upstairs into his study and sat at his desk, moving aside the seemingly endless piles of shady weapons deals and propositions, and put his head in his hands. He sighed. He did not expect the day to go like this. Well, he did expect the weapons deal to go off without a hitch, he made sure of that, but to hear about Varryn again...the very thought made him feel an emotion he hadn't thought of in a long time. And Varryn's daughter...the last time he saw her was very faint in his mind, but she had seemed to keep the sweet disposition he remembered. He sighed, getting up and going to the window overlooking the courtyard, checking the sundial for the time. It was already 4 o' clock. He needed to hurry if he was going to make it by 7.

He called Alistair up.
The butler poked his head in.
"Yes, sir, is everything alright?"
Vaelin waved him over, handing Alistair the card Ilia had given him.
"Arrange a carriage for me, please, and give the driver this address."
The butler nodded, taking a look at the card and tucking it into his coat pocket.
"Right, I will go make arrangements right away," he said, turning to go so what he had been told.
"Oh! And Alistair?"
Alistair turned back around.
"Yes, Master?"
"Get a bottle of ceremonial wine from the cellar please, and put it in the carriage," Vaelin requested.
Alistair nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

3 hours later
Vaelin's comfortable carriage pulled up to Varryn's townhome, Vaelin getting out and thanking the driver. Vaelin was dressed in black pants and dashing black boots, his ruffled shirt complementing his multi pocketed maroon coat. Nervously, he smoothed his shirt, adjusting his coat and walking up to the front door. Vaelin raised his hand to knock on the door and hesitated, before knocking loudly on the door.

[DragonSong]

"Are guests arriving already?"

"Seems so," Ilia noted, craning her neck slightly to look out the parlor window at the drive. There were a handful of carriages unloading their passengers at the door. "Shall I greet them?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Her father gave her a distracted smile as he briefly glanced up from the table where he was carefully arranging a vase of flowers. "I still need to address the staff, as it were."

Ilia chuckled and rolled her eyes. In all her life, they had never had a single member of a "staff" for  Varyyn to address; they kept up the appearances of servants, of course, with her father's demonic abilities. Which was what he meant when he said such things--he was, in fact, the only person preparing their dinner.

So it was left to Ilia to play hostess as his assorted business partners and social climbers arrived at their door. She smiled and curtsied and thanked people for coming, doing everything she was supposed to do. "We're just down that hall, in the dining room," she told them all, directing them back through the townhouse to the room where they would all be eating.

Within minutes, the sounds of conversation and laughter began echoing back down the hall, and she knew her father must have succeeded in arranging their meal just in time. She could hear his voice occasionally in the cloud of noise--nothing specific, just that even, polite tone he used when he needed to speak with people that he did not particularly care for.

She had deflated slightly when the trickle of arriving guests slowed, then stopped, and her personal invitation had not yet arrived. Then there was another knock, and she perked up hopefully as she answered the door.

"Master Blackthorn!" She smiled. "Welcome, ser. Please, come in."

[wandering_giraffe]

He didn't have to wait very long for the door to open, Ilia welcoming in. He stepped inside, slightly bowing to her.
"Thank you again, for inviting me here." He cleared his throat. He held out the bottle of wine.
"A gift...for your father," he explained, and looked around the foyer where they were standing.
"Well then, I shall follow you," he said, nervousness showing in his voice.
He hadn't even spoke to Varryn since. What if he makes a fool of himself? He pushed down the feelings of bitterness and the tiny inkling of hate he was feeling.

[DragonSong]

"Oh, that's very kind." She took the bottle delicately and smiled at him with a polite nod. "Thank you very much. It's just this way--I do believe you're the last to arrive, let me walk with you."

"Mrrow?"

"Oh! Twyla, leave off." The little seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to sniff at Vaelin's boots. She crinkled her nose and sneezed, gave him a reproachful look, then darted off into the depths of the house.

"I'm sorry about her," Ilia said with a little laugh and a shake of her head as they walked. "She's a sweet thing, just overly curious. Father!"

Swinging the door to the dining room open, she called cheerfully as she held up the bottle of wine, "Our last guest has arrived, and he brought a gift!"

Varyyn was engaged in conversation with a circle of three other men, and turned to her absently. "Last guest? I thought--"

His eyes lit on Vaelin and widened. "You--!"

The sudden shout drew the attention of his other guests, and he quickly cleared his throat and schooled his expression back to neutrality. "...Master Blackthorn." He swallowed, then nodded politely. "What a...pleasant surprise."

He shot his entirely unrepentant daughter a Look that screamed, You are in so much trouble, young lady.

Knowing he could do nothing in front of his guests at the risk of losing face, Ilia smiled back at him innocently and said nothing.

Clearly, the young woman had lied when she said her father had asked her to invite Vaelin.

[wandering_giraffe]

He smiled nervously when she took the bottle from him.  Vaelin was so nervous, in fact, that when a cat smelled his boots he just about jumped out of his skin.
"Don't be sorry," Vaelin said. "I have a cat of my own at home. Your cat is much better behaved than mine."
He could hear the chatter from the dining room. Maybe this wasn't a wise decision. Why did he come? His thoughts were interrupted by Illia opening the dining room door and getting her fathers attention. Vaelin unconsciously stood up straighter.
Seeing Varryn for the first time in years did two things to Vaelin. For one thing his heart felt like it skipped a beat. On the other hand, the suppressed feeling of bitterness was reading its ugly head.
Varryn's surprised outburst didn't suprise Vaelin...that much. If Varryn had showed up on Vaelin's doorstep out of the blue he probably would have done the same thing.
Vaelin composed himself and bowed deeply.
"It's been a long time, Varryn."

But something didn't add up. Why would Varryn act so suprised to see him if he had invited him? Unless Varryn hadn't invited him, and Ilia had. He gave Ilia an unamused glare.
Vaelin coughed awkwardly.
"I brought wine, if you gentlemen would like some."

[DragonSong]

"It...certainly has, at that." Varyyn stared at him a moment longer, then cleared his throat and shook his head. "You are, of course, most welcome. And...thank you."

Ilia held up the aforementioned wine--a vintage that was a particular favorite of Varyyn's. He had no idea if that was intentional, if Vaelin even remembered something like that. And if it was intentional, was it meant as a peace offering or an insult?

"Master Blackthorn, I must say, it's something of a shock to see you here," said one of Varyyn's other guests, a rather minor weapons merchant from a small duchy near the southern border. "A pleasant shock, to be sure, to be sure. I didn't realize Lord Amaranth was conducting such a thorough business meeting after dinner."

"Nor did I," Varyyn muttered, almost too low to hear, with another quick glare in his daughter's direction.

"Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to it!" Ilia proclaimed brightly, placing the bottle of wine on the table and dipping into a half curtsy before moving for the door. "Come, Twyla."

The little ginger cat grumbled, clearly having been hoping to sneak tidbits under the table, but sauntered after her mistress.

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin slowly sat down, rather conflicted about the whole matter.
He cleared his throat. "I uh...actually just closed a huge weapons deal. But, I don't want to take away from the business meeting that will be happening."
He messed around with the empty glass in front of him.
"Could I perhaps ask for a glass of water, though? It would be much appreciated."
"Perhaps, Varryn, we could talk after the business meeting...privately."

[DragonSong]

"Perhaps..." Varyyn stared at him for a moment, then seemed to snap back to himself. "Yes. Perhaps we should."

He slipped back into the affectations of host, calling, "Gentlemen, please, take your seats and we can begin."


It was not meant to be a terribly important dinner, but Varyyn was more than happy to allow the talk of business and alliances and pricing to distract him from his daughter's...surprise guest.

Eventually, he encouraged the gathered guests to move to the parlor, lingering himself in the dining room as they all filed out. Until just he and Vaelin were left.

Some of the familiar cloak of noble duty and obligation fell from his shoulders, and he shook his head at the blacksmith. "...What are you doing here?"

[wandering_giraffe]

"I'm not really sure," Vaelin admitted. He sighed.
He fidgeted uncomfortably with his coat sleeve.
"Your daughter...she..." he cleared his throat.
"She found my house, somehow, and knocked on my door. She said that you invited me. That's partly why I came." His voice softened some.
"To see you again. But, but another part of me is wanting to know why. Why did you do it, Varryn. Why? You stole my livelihood! I just..." he frustratedly ran a hand through his black hair.
"Why?" His voice broke.

[DragonSong]

Varyyn stared at him silently for a long moment. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes, something like regret, or fear, or something even more treacherous.

But it vanished quickly, and he lifted his chin, jaw clenched.

"Because I am a bad man, Master Blackthorn," he told him emotionlessly. "I am selfish and greedy, and I repaid your kindness with cruelty." He paused, eyes going hard. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin made himself take deep breaths as Varryn was talkimg.
At Varryn's question, though, his eyes briefly flashed red.
"No, I honestly don't know what I was expecting."
Vaelin's hand twitched near his belt where his knife was hidden.
"You better be thankful. I could have killed both you and your daughter back then; but I didn't! Don't make me do something I'm going to regret, Varryn."

[DragonSong]

Varyyn's spine stiffened, and his eyes went red. Entirely, ominously red.

He took a step forward, and his glamour slipped, revealing a flash of lavender-charcoal skin and too-sharp teeth bared in a snarl.

Vaelin had known him better than most. Known he wasn't human, not entirely. But Varyyn could only remember one occasion when he'd fully dropped his glamour around the other man, and that had only be for a few moments. Now, he let it slip away entirely, the air around him suddenly thrumming with power as he stalked forward.

"Get. Out," he hissed. "You do not threaten my daughter. Ever. In fact, were it not for her, you would not still be breathing."

[wandering_giraffe]

Vaelin hadn't forgotten that Varryn was half demon, but when it happened his heart still dropped.

Vaelin could feel the change in the room. And when Varryn moved forward, Vaelin unconsciously stepped backwards, his hand gripping the hilt of his dagger. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it, cautiously backing up. Vaelin wasn't stupid. To attack Varryn in his own home would be suicide.
"You better watch your back, Ryn," Vaelin growled, abruptly turning around, leaving the room and slamming the door closed.
The sound of a door opening and slamming shut indicated that Vaelin had left the townhouse.