mathieu trinket. (flauto) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-05-21 11:50:00 |
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The disapproval of her parents was expected; Esther understood their reasoning, seeing her mother dabbing a dainty handkerchief as she gave her daughter a pair of wounded doe-eyes. Too much had happened to their daughter for them to want to allow her to go anywhere unsupervised, from kidnappings to near-death — it felt like the young heir of the Glass family was not fated to see her twenty-fifth birthday. Coiled in the safety of the estate, they could protect what was most precious to them (and there was never any doubt that money came second to their only daughter). Esther still wanted to go: not for money, not for power, not even for knowledge — but because she needed to face these situations. Experience was something she had to acquire by herself, pulling it like a string, unravelling the pattern she did not understand. In her spacious bedroom, under Milla’s watchful gaze, Esther carefully went about putting out the things she needed and letting the maid pack them (and pick out the ones Esther forgot but would require). For all her determination, these little faults revealed all the inexperience she tried to hide beneath silk and jewels. Esther’s parents weren’t the only ones invested in her well-being however. Once word of the mission had reached the ears of Mathieu Rozenkatz, he had hastily rearranged the meetings in his schedule to come pay and pay her a proper social call. Gathering all information about this venture from half a city away seemed entirely unsuitable in this regard, and so it was that he now found himself (perhaps a bit improperly, but then, the rules seemed to bend more easily in matters as these) knocking on the door to Esther’s quarters and waving a hand inside. “Lady Glass,” he called cheerily, his voice more than familiar to anyone at the Glass estate, “I won’t frighten any of the servants if I come in now, will I?” Social rules were to be followed at all times, not even her fiance would come into her bedroom (and had he even tried, Milla’s stern gaze would have chased the man away) but those lines were amenable when it came to Mathieu and he was such a familiar sight around the Glass estate that no one batted an eye when he called. “Lord Rozenkatz, you might have given dear Milla a heart attack years ago but she’s used to you now. Please come in.” A little more casually dressed since she had not been planning on seeing anyone or going anywhere, out of habit Esther pushed her hair back and smoothed her skirts. And then she was skipping over to the door to greet Mathieu. His visit seemed to lightened her thoughts instantly and she greeted him with a hug. In polite company she would curtsey to him, but no one was here but them (yes, Esther was still prejudiced as a noble, not mistreating servants but considering their station as integral part of their personality). There was little divergence in Mathieu’s own actions and he easily swept her up in a friendly hug in return. He gave little thought to her current casual appearance, gratefully only that she was here, for the moment, and well. Perched at the end of her clinic bed during the duration of her most-recent brush with death, he had now the acute ability to appreciate such moments. “So good it is to see you, I hope I’m not being much bother as you--” and here, he relinquished his grasp on her and made a sweeping gesture to the sight of the packing arrangements “--prepare for your adventure!” Mathieu’s tone seemed as light and optimistic as ever, but the guise he wore for others was not taken up so freely here, and his eyes shone now with a slight hint of concern. Esther’s doubts and worries, after all, had certainly strengthened his own, and the councilor could not help but feel a certain amount of hesitation at the task his dear childhood friend was about to undertake. “You should tell me all about it, now that I’m here,” he suggested with a small grin. Esther didn’t even think twice about tightening her hug for a brief moment before letting go, unconcerned by showing this amount of emotion in the action. “It is always good to see you, and you are never a bother.” She released him, stepping back to usher him into the room, “But I’m being a horrible host, where are my manners?” His question was initially brushed aside, put carefully inside as Esther played the role of host before anything else. “Milla, would you be so kind and fetch something to drink for Lord Rozenkatz and myself.” The drinks were unimportant, the privacy of the moment was what mattered and Esther had given the two that brief opening to discuss things neither one would say in front of servants. The door shut with a click, and Esther visibly relaxed, “It is something I feel I should do.” She avoided looking at him, “Do you think it best that I stay?” Mathieu made himself busy by wandering about the room, inspecting with some amusement at all Esther had managed to pack thus far. He was no great general here, out to oversee the productivity and function of his squad of guildmates, no, he was simply here to assess the current situation of his friend. If there was any hint of tension in his posture, therefore, it was entirely for Esther’s sake and his concern for her well-being. He glanced up from where he was inspecting her bags and addressed the question. Hands behind his back, he looked a vague shade of his younger self, carefully attempting to restrain the mischief that seemed often inevitable to occur. “Do you want to stay?” He gave her an understanding smile. “One would hardly fault you, if you did,” Mathieu continued, “but I’m sure your leadership has planned this adventure out with proper care.” (Or so was his hope at least, though he wouldn’t swear by it--after all, how could anyone place blind trust in such things again, as remnants of Vivian Xi’s violence still permeated throughout the city.) Esther’s eyes followed him about the room, fond — guilt at causing him any sort of worry (but then it was only natural given how things had gone, and it would be impossible for anyone not to be at least slightly concerned with anything relating to the Mages Guild). “Turning the question back on me?” A quiet laugh, as the question was considered — even if she could recognize what Mathieu was trying to do, she would follow his lead— “I do not wish to go. Not truly, but that makes me an awful person, doesn’t it?” A coward, and yet she had already decided to go, fear and all be damned. There was nothing about the task ahead that was appropriate for someone like Esther; she hated the outdoors, she was not experienced in battle, she was not cut out for this. She padded over to him, standing by his side, looking down at her bags, “Milla will make sure I don’t forget anything important.” Mathieu wandered his way over to her side and gave a reassuring bump of shoulders. There was relief, he suspected, that Esther was not ever one to trust things quite so easily--for as a leader of the Bards Guild (or more accurately, the Guild of Thieves), he had already had many of the world’s deceptions removed from his own vision. Keeping cautious was the only way that one seemed to survive. That she offered such delicate confessions about her thoughts to him, of course, was a gesture that had not gone unnoticed. The two had always shared their secrets, after all. “You could never be a terrible person for thinking any such things,” he said reassuringly (for his idea of terrible had long been well-expanded). “Especially for your keen perceptions!” On the matter of preparations, he turned his gaze from Esther and back to the array of clothing. “But if you can’t find it in your heart to place trust in your guild, I hope you would come to me if there is anything else you might need?” Mathieu Rozenkatz, councilor of the Bards Guild, might be able to pull a few strings for her sake, he thought. When their shoulders bumped companiably, Esther swayed a little, playfully overacting the touch and laughing. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, the little reminders that he was her childhood friend and someone she trusted disarmed Esther without trouble. She had never been particularly secretive, less so with those she loved and right now with ease any thought would be offered with no hesitation. The gesture Mathieu was offering was not small, even after many years of friendship Esther was a little floored by it, “I think what no one understands in the guild is that what has been done cannot be undone. There is no going back and I can’t trust my guild, but I trust you. With everything.” And yet, Esther would not seek his aid without good cause. “So if that remains the case,” Mathieu said, offering up his impersonation of a refined orator, straightening his back and attempting to look somewhat serious (well, hardly). “Then allow me to do for you what I can before you leave. Henceforth, my dear Lady Glass, we shall make preparations for your departure together.” Though he made to appear as if he was jesting, Mathieu was indeed rather serious in his devotion. Taking the time away from his schedule, and rearranging his appointments to accommodate this task was an entirely affordable matter, in his opinion. Simply allowing himself the time to visit had already awakened his senses to old and dear memories, years of visiting these same halls, these familiar rooms, and the time spent here that remained fondly and most valuably in his heart. “I am ever at your disposal.” “And I am ever at yours.” Esther looked up, searchingly for something (the traces of the child Mathieu had been once, their childhood held intact between them). His devotion was met in equal measure by her own, the two sharing an unbreakable spine — fighters (he a general) in a battlefield of politics; loyalty was not a commodity, but priceless. A satisfied smile and she gestured towards the messy pile of clothing she had created, “Be my guest, but I think we should wait for Milla to come back and put some order to this mess.” Fine, so in all honesty, Esther had no idea what she was doing when she packed but she did try. A knock alerted them to Milla’s return, “Come in.” but she didn’t spare a second’s attention as the maid entered with a tray of tea and biscuits. “Put them on the side, please. Lord Rozenkatz has been kind enough to volunteer in helping me pack.” Esther announced cheerfully, “I’m sure with his help we shall be done in no time.” Or possibly not, “Make yourself at home, Mathieu.” They would probably be here for a while. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said cheerfully, and already did he find himself wandering in the direction of the newly offered refreshments. Mathieu poured them both a cup of tea, and he prepared his own with a bard’s gusto--a dollop of cream and a little bit of honey. A biscuit was already halfway to his mouth before he had finished. “Now,” the councilor said, tea in hand, his item of war for the day, “tell me everything you know about this mission of yours, and I entreat you to spare no detail!” |