Cerulean Sins - Chapters 7-9

[masterofstlouis]

Jean-Claude's eyes never leave Musette. That would have been foolish. It does not mean, however, that he is not aware of everyone else in the room. Asher's presence is bright to his senses, and Jason flopped so casually over one the chairs was purely Jason.

Anita, tense and still between his body and Damian's, is like an explosive primed to go off, and Jean-Claude knows he has to prevent just that at all costs. Anita attacking Musette or her company would be a political nightmare Jean-Claude did not wish to navigate. But just as he knows he must prevent it, he knows he has little chance should his petite fly off the handle, so to speak.

"Ah, covered in graveyard dirt and animal blood. So nice to see she brought out her best for this evening, Jean-Claude, Musette snipes, her French rolling off the tongue.

Jean-Claude carefully hid his reaction to the insult. "Anita does not speak French, my dear."

Musette shrugs elegantly. "No one is perfect, except perhaps Our Mistress." She gives Jean-Claude a dark smile, but before he can retort, she switches to English and addresses Damian. "Damian, it has been so many years since you graced our court with your presence."

Comments

[mr-smarty-vamp.livejournal.com]

One thing is certain. Damian doesn't like being the centre of Musette's attention. He is utterly still at Anita's side, his will bent upon the task of remaining as calm and distant as possible.

And he succeeds. Barely.

"My former mistress did not care for the life of the court," he replies, attempting to keep his words concise. Perhaps if he speaks less, she will have less to say to him. One can only hope.

[ab_npc]

"She is an odd one, your mistress Morvoren." She smiled at the little flinch, not missing the reaction like he'd been struck. "Morvoren is powerful enough to compete for a council seat. She was even offered the Earthmover's old place. She would not even have had to fight for it. It was a gift."

Musette was watching Damian, studying his face, his body, his reactions. "Why do you think she refused such a bounty?"

[mr-smarty-vamp.livejournal.com]

Because Morvoren isn't a damned fool. Some things are even better than being on the Council... like not being on the Council.

The very syllables of Her name cause his careful control to shatter instantly. It isn't even her true name, but it still affects him like a physical blow. It is almost like being punched in the face, but the bite of her barbed sweetness is deeper. So much deeper. It reopens wounds like a silver blade, and he is helpless to stop her, reduced to clinging to Anita in the most subtle way he can manage.

He inwardly panics, not wanting to answer her questions or be the one under the scrutiny of that blue gaze. On the outside, it's a wonder he doesn't break into a blood-tinged sweat, only flinching and forcing down a painful swallow.

"As I said," he rasps shakily, nearly choking on the words before clearing his throat and continuing, "my former mistress does not agree with court life. Ever has she preferred her solitude."

[ab_npc]

"But," she persisted, sweet blue gaze still locked on Damian, "To give up a seat on the council without a battle to risk, that is madness. Why would Morvoren do that?"

Each time she said the name, Damian flinched. It was amusing.

[anita_blake]

Anita's patience was already running thin.

"He's answered your question," she says, bringing the attention to her. She can feel the tension in Damian's body, and she absently strokes the top of his hand. "His old master liked her privacy, and that's all he needs to tell you. If you want to know more, ask her yourself."

[ab_npc]

Musette flashed a blue glance, momentarily irritated, towards the new woman. How charming, she stood up for him. The look wasn't friendly, no, not at all; she didn't have to be friendly, not to a human, not to this human.

"So, this is the new one." She walked towards them, and it wasn't just gliding, it was a sway of hips, womanly, evocative with every glide from the shapely legs hidden by all that skirt in a perfected sashay.

[masterofstlouis]

Jean-Claude steps forward, putting himself almost between Anita and Musette. It is a casual enough gesture on the surface, but the vampires in the room know it for what it is: a claim of territory, an unspoken Mine.

"May I present Anita Blake," he says smoothly, "my human servant. The very first I have ever called." There is the slightest bit of emphasis on first, almost imperceptible. As he speaks, he uses his hold on Anita's hand to move her to his other side, farther from Musette, and coax her, and by extension Damian, into a bow. (A curtsy would have been far too much to ask, and he knows it.)

[ab_npc]

Musette swayed, her hips making a dance of the billowing white skirt, taking the unspoken words in stride and re-evaluating the situation. She might have looked like a tiny perfect doll, but she knew how to play the game that was, most assuredly, going on here.

"You know the one I mean, Asher's servant, what was her name?"

There was a look in those blue eyes that said she knew damn well what the name was. She wanted to get that reaction out of them both; it would be interesting. And if she could get another slap in at this...woman Jean-Claude held onto, well then, so much the better.

[masterofstlouis]

"Julianna."

Jean-Claude stills in that unnatural way vampires had, and knows that Asher does the same. The sound of the name, even after all this time, dredges up a host of memories, regrets, joys, and pains. No matter how much he tries to keep that from his voice, it seeps in, telling Musette far more than Jean-Claude wants her to know.

[ab_npc]

"Ah, yes, Julianna, a pretty name for someone so common." She stands in front of them, so they will have to see her, look at her. So she can see everything going through them.

"Why is it that Asher and you choose such common women? I suppose there is something comforting about good, sturdy, peasant stock."

[anita_blake]

Anita laughs.

She can't help it really, because she knows Musette means to be insulting. It was hardly insulting, though.

Jean-Claude's hand tightens on her, and she feels Damian become very, very still. She knows she's done something she probably shouldn't have, but the laugh was out there now. They'd just have to deal with the consequences of it.

[ab_npc]

Musette's pretty face pinches in, in confusion, disbelief, and a little anger. "You laugh at me, girl. Why?"

This vampire does not like being laughed at, and by this common woman that came in reeking of graveyard dirt and blood, she will not tolerate it.

[anita_blake]

Jean-Claude was squeezing her hand so tightly, it took all Anita had not to wince. It was a warning, but Anita didn't do well with warnings.

"It's not much of an insult," she says, her smile a little tighter now. If Jean-Claude wasn't careful, the vampire was going to break her hand.

[ab_npc]

Either the girl was bluffing, or she genuinely didn't understand the insult. Musette, given what she'd seen of her thus far, was fairly open to either possibility.

She couldn't understand why the woman wasn't responding to that, though, and it...was just puzzling. No one in their right mind would have been so ignorant of their status as to simply not get it. "Why not?"

[anita_blake]

"As far back as I can trace my line," she says, ignoring how her hand was going numb where Jean-Claude gripped it, "we're farmers and soldiers, so, yeah, you're right. Sturdy peasant stock here, and I don't mind one bit."

[ab_npc]

She raises a delicate eyebrow with a tiny scoff.

"And why would you be proud of that?"

The woman must be out of her mind.

[anita_blake]

"Because everything we have, we've worked hard for. Nothing was just given to us. There's great satisfaction in knowing that what we have came from the hard work we were willing to put into it," Anita tells her.

It was sad, looking at someone who's never worked for much in her long life.

[ab_npc]

"I don't understand."

Musette lives in a world with rules, with hierarchy, with standards of behavior. someone being proud of their peasant upbringing is as unfathomable to her as being nice. Which is not at all.

[ash-imperfect.livejournal.com]

Asher has remained silent through out, though he couldn't help but flinch as Musette moved, stepping slowly around the room, circling away from her. He kept Jean Claude and Anita between himself and Musette - cowardly, perhaps, but he spent far too many years in her company to not be wary of her now.

He cannot let Anita face Musette alone, however. Steeling himself, he steps slowly towards the group, far enough forward to draw Musette's attention.

"Her ways are not our ways, Musette," he murmurs, trying to remain diplomatic, to not say that Anita is better than Musette, nor vice versa.

"I attempted to explain to Anita, but she has lived free all her life, never beholden to a leige lord. It is simply impossible for her to understand how one could want such a thing."

[ab_npc]

Musette flicked her attention over, birdlike--though it wasn't pleasant or singsonged--at Asher. He'd been quiet...almost scared. How...interesting. She nearly smiled, cold in all the wrong ways.

"And what does her lack of understanding civilized company have to do with anything here, Asher?" She all but purred it, smiling at him in that way that was only predatory.

[ash-imperfect.livejournal.com]

Asher stills, suppressing the urge to run, to step back from Musette. He will not show fear in front of her, not now.

"You, lovely Musette, have never lived as Anita does. You have owed debts to leige lords, or been owed them in return." He keeps his voice calm, flat, doing as little to provoke her as he possibly can.

"You have never lived without duties of some kind to another." Asher explains, remaining perfectly still. "Never dreaming that being of common stock, owing no one, could be a freeing experience."

[ab_npc]

Musette looked at him flatly, with all the cool grace--still subtly sensual--that came with her stare, and the little foxlike twist that curved her mouth into what only a fool would have called a smile. "Oui?"

She could toy with Asher quite effectively, yes...or so she had in mind, seeing the way he went dead still as he spoke. The little bird was nervous, about this common woman? How very sweet. But the words still fell short, and she dismissed them with an airy wave of her hand.

"'Freeing experience', how utterly absurd. What does it even mean?" she questioned, still on the edge between a derisive chuckle and almost honest curiosity.

[masterofstlouis]

Jean-Claude smirks as he watches the banter between the two. He can't help it. "The simple truth that you do not understand makes Asher's point for him."

Musette had been insulted through the simple act of failing to be insulting, and still she could not see how cleanly she had been run through by superior wit. It was delicious.

[ab_npc]

"I do not understand it, and thus it cannot be that important," she scoffed, with a miniature frown at both men and a repeated wave of her hands, clearing the air. It needed it after descending to discuss freeing experiences of being so base.

She was beginning to understand precisely what was off here. They must all be going mad, or someone was playing an exceptional game with the human. She doubted it was the latter; the smirk on Jean-Claude's face was far too satisfied for her to like that. Musette turned her attention back to Anita, taking her measure again, as if she'd forgotten it in the ten minutes she hadn't been watching her.

"Have you seen the present we brought, for Jean-Claude and Asher?" Finding her movement blocked when she tried to sweep her hand away towards it, she pushed Angelito aside lightly so the woman could see.

[anita_blake]

Anita looks over the fireplace, the place that had traditionally held the portrait of Asher, Jean-Claude, and Julianna, and found a new portrait there. It was a restaging of Cupid and Psyche, the famous painting of the mortal Psyche lighting a lamp to discover the identity of her lover, Cupid, as he sleeps. Asher lay as the sleeping Cupid, his golden hair trailing along his flawless nude form, the candlelight causing his skin to glow only slightly less than his hair. The huge wings were realistic enough that Anita half-wonders if they would be soft to the touch.

Psych wasn't in full view in this version, instead peering around the edge of Cupid's wing, obscuring most of the body. But what was revealed is so familiar to Anita that she immediately checks the face to be sure. She was expecting Psyche to be Belle, but it's Jean-Claude's face that watches the sleeping Asher, framed by those thick, black curls she knows intimately.

Jean-Claude's fingers touch her face, and she realizes she is crying, so moved by the painting and the borrowed memories evoked by it.