If you can keep a secret, I can keep a secret Who: Quen, Stone, Ridley, Morgayne, and Juliette What: A slumber party! Where: A room at the Snuggly Duckling When: tonight~ Rating: PG-13. Minds were blown~ Status: Complete!
Saturday night in Emillion was a time for the people of the city to go out and celebrate the end of another week. In a room at the Snuggly Duckling, five of the city’s young guild members were doing just that. So far, Quen was pleased with how well her party seemed to be going. Everyone seemed to be having fun. She had come prepared with beauty supplies and food, just as Morgayne had suggested, and had trusted the fact that they were all great people whom she liked immensely to do the rest of the work for them.
The floor was littered with the things she and Ridley had bought in the Bazaar district the week before. There was a jar containing a mixture of clay, honey, and various herbs for them to smear on their faces. One bowl contained clean water for them to dip towels into and wash the masks off their faces five minutes later. A small effervescent tablet had been dropped into another bowl of hot water, for the girls to take turns holding their faces over with towels draped over their heads. The steam that rose from the bowl was scented with essential oils meant to detoxify the skin and open the pores; and whenever the water cooled, Quen could use her newly-learned Fire spell to reheat it for the next girl.
A table by the window held all of the food they had brought: a variety of cut vegetables; a plate of cookies made for them by Rene; a jar of liquorice candy; a small plate of candied orange peels from Mama Delacreaux herself; a bowl of pretzel sticks; and a jug of sweetened iced tea. There had also been a platter of small desserts waiting in the room for them - provided by Vivi, perhaps, for her young guests.
Quen was sitting behind Ridley on the floor, combing her fingers through the younger girl’s long, soft hair and down her back. She had already held her face over the bowl of steaming scented water (it had made her face feel sweaty but clean and refreshed at the same time) and smeared the mask on her face (after she’d washed it off, her skin had felt very soft). She sectioned off a small piece of Ridley’s hair and began to braid it.
“So what shall we do next, girls?” she asked the rest of the room while she worked. “A game, maybe?”
These sort of things had always been beyond the blonde whose hair Quen was playing with-- facials, detoxification of things that weren’t magic, nails, party games. Ridley was a simple sort, really, someone who enjoyed looking pretty, but didn’t put much stock into how to get there. A nice dress and pretty shoes, maybe an Ordalian braid like her mother used to do, and that was it. Cosmetics were another thing wholly new to the scholar, who had dabbled in it when her mother was alive -- no little girl could have resisted trying their mother’s cosmetics and looking like a clown, of course -- but now avoided them, though not because of the memories.
Her long nails had been painted a soft blue, a color she’d quickly picked out among the rest because it was her favorite, but they had long dried, even though she’d accidentally smeared some off her pinky while the polish had been wet.
She did her best not to move her head so Quen could continue braiding her hair, and shifted her eyes instead. “Of what sort?” Because games, too, were not her forte.
Stone, at first, was entirely perplexed by the situation. Five people sitting around a room, not hiding from the EKP, nor discussing battle or escape strategy, or cursing and whooping while she herself rolled her eyes with a look of disdain on her face. No, these five were normal girls—or at least playing the part for the night—all around the same age, dressed down and painting themselves up for the fun of it. This scenario was almost entirely foreign to the pale young woman, and so who could blame her that she stared at everything and nothing, clutching a pillow as if it were a shield, protecting her from… what, exactly?
But nonetheless, it was a day away, and eventually, the start of a smile began to crack on her face, and, throwing unnecessary caution to the wind, and had even let one of the girls adjust the neon-colored crap she smeared on her face, which Stone hadn’t known one was supposed to wash off after a period of time until it was politely pointed out to her. (She was eternally grateful to have it off her face, hopefully for good.)
Sitting, now, on the pillow she once grasped with fear and trepidation, she colored her nails with some sort of sparkly forest-green shade. It was... oddly relaxing, though she couldn’t see why one or who would wear makeup of any sort in her profession. She looked around at everyone at Quen’s suggestion of a game, and opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut again. Then she continued, “Well, don’t look at me. All I know’re kids games. And I don’t think Vivi would like us playing hopscotch in one of her rooms.”
The unfamiliar girls seemed nice, although shy, each in her own way. Juliette had been surprised to recognize the girl she had met outside a dress shop some months back, although she was uncertain whether she had been recognized in turn. Perhaps it was best all around not to mention that incident. The other appeared to be a mage, and as quiet as Juliette herself. It was equal parts comforting and awkward - comforting not to be the only shy one, awkward to know that silences could stretch unbearably unless Morgayne and Quenten filled them.
The evening was... strange all around. At least the face masks and detoxification ritual were familiar to her; she took care of her skin diligently, as she had been taught from very early adolescence, to make certain that her face did not become rough despite her chosen occupation. Her nails were kept short and blunt, though, really not worth painting. And she sat rather close to Morgayne, unconsciously attempting to be near the person in the room with whom she felt most familiar.
She had helped the girl from the store - Stone, she had introduced herself - with her mask earlier. Now she sat cross-legged, munching on a plate piled high with vegetables diligently before she would take any of the sweets for herself. The mention of games took her by surprise - the Countess had mentioned the beauty rituals and the as-yet-uninitiated (and might it stay that way!) talk of boys, and she had prepared herself, but games?
“I am afraid I do not know any that you may find... diverting,” she said when attention shifted to her, gripping her carrot stick entirely too tightly. “Morgayne?” Hopefully, the other girl would be better equipped to answer.
“I think truth or dare could be fun!” Morgayne answered readily. She hoped her enthusiasm would be infectious enough to encourage the other girls, all of whom (with the obvious exception of Quen) were clearly a little uncomfortable with the social aspect of the evening. Morgayne herself had never been to a slumber party before, but she had taken to the experience like a fish to water. Her hands were steady enough to paint nails, and gentle enough to plait hair. Though she’d had no idea what she was doing when it came to the face masks, Morgayne had kept a keen eye on Juli, and mirrored her friend’s smooth, even strokes.
But party games were what Morgayne had truly been looking forward to -- and hopefully, they would help make some of the others more comfortable. Nothing bonded people faster than secrets, after all.
“That’s a great idea!” Quen agreed. She paused for a moment, and then said, “All right, Morgayne, you go first, then! Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Morgayne replied after a moment’s contemplation. Truth was always safer; after all, she could simply lie if she didn’t like the question.
“Okay,” Quen said, and then tapped her lips for a moment while she tried to think of something good. “Okay,” she said again, “if you were going to kiss a girl, who would it be and why? And it has to be someone we know,” she added quickly. “No made-up people.”
An easy one. In all honesty, Morgayne’s answer would probably have been Juliette -- who was pretty, admirable, and someone she was already familiar with. But she wasn’t about to put her friend on the spot even more, so she settled for someone she felt was a suitable replacement. “Lady Marcos,” she answered with confidence. “Because she seems like she’d be good at it, and I’ve always admired how freely she speaks her mind.”
“Now your turn -- truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Quen said decisively—not because she was afraid to take a dare, but because she thought none of these girls could come up with anything suitably embarrassing. If she was going to do a dare, she at least wanted something she’d have to confess to Father Luscini on Sunday.
Morgayne had the question already poised on her tongue, and she needed no time for thought to ask: “What was losing your virginity like?”
Whatever Quen had been expecting, it was not that. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Well... without getting too graphic for the young ears,” she began—she hadn’t forgotten that Ridley was in there, after all—”it was sort of awkward. My boyfriend Ben was a virgin too, and he didn’t really know what he was doing, and we were trying to be really quiet because we were in the library, and to be honest, I didn’t really get the fuss of it all.” She shrugged, not sure whether or not that was the sort of answer Morgayne had been expecting, but hoping that was enough information for her nonetheless.
Smiling brightly, she turned toward where she thought the other girls sat. “Juliette! Truth or dare?”
Juliette’s eyes were probably round with something akin to terror. No one had warned her about this. “I...” Well, truth was out. There was no way she was going to answer such a question. Not that she had an answer for that but... between that and Lady Marcos -- Lady Marcos, Faram help her -- the only things more terrifying than the questions were the answers. “Dare.” Because she couldn’t imagine the would make her break the law, and her confessor was already going to hear about this evening in graphic detail. She had a feeling.
“Okay! Now we’re getting into the good stuff!” Quen exclaimed, rubbing her palms together. “I dare you to … kiss Morgayne!”
She should never have agreed to come. Obviously she was being punished for asking the Countess to mislead her guardians. But... “All right,” she said slowly. She thought she had an idea...
She leaned in, quickly, and pressed her lips to Morgayne’s cheek, then sat back, her own cheeks rather pink. She might kiss people in greeting at various functions but... that had been rather awkward. And perhaps a bit like cheating. Though as Lady Marcos -- oh Faram, best not think of her right now -- had taught her, sometimes such tactics were necessary. She’d never kissed anyone on the lips. Why start with one of her few friends? “Ridley,” she said, selecting the mage, thinking that surely she could give her something simple. “Your turn.”
Much like Juliette, Ridley was at a loss for words. She had been prepared for party games, facials, things that were “girly” in nature, but Truth or Dare was a game she’d never played in all of her fifteen years. Her friends had been few before coming to the Tower, and though she had more than a handful now, she couldn’t say she’d ever been invited to play this-- Truth or Dare? A curious game, one that was evidently sexual in nature, something she was entirely clueless about, but not necessarily afraid of.
A hand drifted up to fiddle with the hem of her gown, her apprehension carefully hidden. “Ah... truth, please.”
“Tell us an... embarrassing memory.” Personal enough to work for the purposes of the game, hopefully. But something she would not mind having to answer herself. Perhaps kindness was not the point of this ordeal, but she preferred it all the same.
It had become evident earlier that evening that Juliette wasn’t very much like the other girls. Friendly enough with them, but not exactly compatible in terms of mannerisms, likes and dislikes, or morals. She was proper, not to say that the others weren’t, but moreso than the rest. Although Ridley did love Quen and Stone’s company, as well as Morgayne’s (for as little as she knew her), it was refreshing to know someone closer to her manner of-- well, nearly everything she’d seen. And if the girls were going to continue asking such personal, sexual questions, she would inevitably find herself slinking toward Juliette like a desperate moth to a flame.
Fortunate for her, the “truth” was tame enough that there would apparently be no need for spilling anything too inappropriate, as she had the opportunity to pick one of her least embarrassing memories, which took a whole three seconds to think of.
She tilted her head back some, as if in thought. “There was a night, when I was somewhat younger, on which I mistook another family’s home for my own, went into a bedroom, and fell asleep on their bed. Everyone was very confused when I woke some hours later.”
Leaving it at all, the scholar looked toward someone who she knew a little better. “Stone, truth or dare?” If that was how it went.
Blinking, Stone replied, “Truth. No, wait—wait, yeah. Truth.” She’d read about this in a book, once, though in both her line of work and circle of friends, (Or so she’d thought.) no one would’ve really spared the time for a game like Truth or Dare. Sitting, she waited for what Ridley would have her say.
What Stone didn’t yet know was that she’d lucked out with the younger girl, who knew how to be polite, how to ask the right questions. Evidently, this game required truths of a personal nature, something that surprised her (she was no prude, but really), so she tilted her head curiously, pondering for some moments on a question that wouldn’t disturb anyone.
When she was decided, she hmm’d. “If you could permanently switch lives with someone that you know, who would you choose?”
Scoffing good-naturedly, Stone smiled and replied, “That’s easy—someone with a lot of money.” As mentally she went through her list of names, she stopped and wondered aloud, “Wait, do they have to live my life in exchange? That’d suck ass; I couldn’t do that to someone. In that case, maybe this guy I know named Nate, since our lives aren’t too different.” A pause, and then she said, “Okay, that’s done. Juliette, right? You go again. Truth or dare?”
“Me?” She was surprised. Did this girl remember her? Well, she did not know her too well, surely she would not ask any question Juliette could not answer, and she did not think she would be able to get so neatly around another dare of an... intimate nature. In the end, modesty won over potential embarrassment. “Truth,” she said, and hoped for the best.
“What were you really doing when I bumped into you in the streets of the Commoners District? You seemed kind of out of it—or maybe that was me who was out of it and I’m remembering wrong.” It was simple enough. Juli was the same girl, right? Stone couldn’t be sure. A face like hers, you don’t forget, but at the same time the young woman couldn’t be certain that she hadn’t been over-thinking at the time and blocked out the face of whoever it was she really bumped into.
“Oh.” Apparently, she had not been forgotten after all. “I was shopping. I had purchased a scarf.” And that, she reflected, was true but not the truth. She had already evaded the spirit of the dare she had been given -- at least here, she thought she ought to be a bit more forthcoming. “I purchased the scarf as an... excuse. To show that I had indeed been out shopping. I was thinking how else to prolong my outing so that... I might not have to return to my home until the last possible moment,” she finished, her eyes downcast. “My mind was elsewhere. That is why I nearly got run over -- and why I nearly knocked you off your feet.”
And that was the most honest answer she could offer. “Morgayne,” she said, settling on the other squire, hoping she did not hold the brief kiss against her, “Truth or dare?”
“Truth!” Morgayne said, giving Juliette what she hoped was a reassuring smile. And with Juli at the helm, she was relatively sure whatever question she’d be asked would be something she could answer easily.
Juliette was secretly relieved. She hadn’t had the faintest idea what sort of dare would be suitable - surely nothing she could invent would be embarrassing enough to suit the nature of this game. But for this question, she did have something, and it was something she actually wanted to know, but had never felt it appropriate to ask. Well, if not now, while everyone was sharing confidences, then when? “Assuming you could achieve everything you wished - within reason - where do you see yourself in ten years?”
Morgayne was surprised by the question, although she shouldn’t have been -- in hindsight, it really was the sort of thing Juliette would ask. And oddly, she found it much more difficult to answer than Quen’s truth had been. The future was something Morgayne didn’t often dwell on.
“Actually, I’m not sure,” she began, “It’s not something I’ve put much thought into. I guess I would see myself -- happy? Maybe married, but I don’t know. I don’t want to achieve a husband, or anything.” It wasn’t the most illuminating response, but Morgayne hoped it satisfied Juli’s question.
She turned back to Quen. “Truth or dare?”
“Hm,” Quen said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t dare me to do anything illegal would you?”
“Of course not!” Morgayne replied, laughing. “If you got caught, that’d put a real damper on the evening.”
Quen laughed, too. “In that case, I pick truth again.” She didn’t really want to do anything illegal, of course—although, Dar’s reaction if she were brought home by the EKP would most likely be hilarious.
This time, Morgayne took a moment to ponder. She wanted to ask a good question, especially since Quen was the only other girl in the room she could ask near anything of -- the others, she didn’t want to make more uncomfortable than they already were. “All right,” she said, stretching out the syllables to buy more time, “If you had to marry someone tomorrow, who would it be, and why?”
“Someone we know!” she added, much like Quen had.
“Does it have to be someone who would want to marry me?” Quen asked, partially to stall for time.
Morgayne shrugged. “No. Let’s say the other person reciprocates your feelings.”
Quen continued stroking her fingers through Ridley’s hair while she thought. There were several people she wouldn’t mind marrying. Merri was, of course, the first one who came to mind; but she was finally starting to feel comfortable with the friendship they were building where he seemed to have accepted the fact that she was no longer twelve. Rene was another one, because he could cook and she really liked him, but she knew he felt much the same way Merri did about her.
“Storm,” she said eventually, glad for once that she didn’t have to look at Juliette. Storm had made it clear that, in spite of the rumors, he didn’t think of Juliette that way; but Quen had no way of knowing Juliette’s true feelings on the matter. Not that this was a realistic option, either: Storm was a noble, after all, and she wasn’t, but for now, he seemed like the best option.
She sighed, glad that was over. “Stone!” she exclaimed with rather more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. “Truth or dare?”
Stone looked up from the colored nails she’d given herself—was it just her, or was the polish a bit thick in some places?—and chose, “Truth again.” The young woman figured she’d save the dares for as long as she could.
"Hmm," Quen said, thinking for a moment. She didn't want to put Stone too much on the spot. "Who do you most admire and why?" She asked eventually.
Stone exhaled softly before looking up. “Aw, crap. Probably Aspel,” she decided at once. Looking back at Quen and then out over the girls, she carried on. “The woman who runs The Armory, if you didn’t know her. Well, she’s got a pretty good go of things, I think. I don’t know her past, but here in Emillion, she’s got a great set of connections and makes decent wage, and gives decent advice.” She wondered what Aspel was up to at the moment, before she shook her head. “But, enough on that. Hey, Ridley! You’re up: Truth or Dare?”
Being a scholar, Ridley couldn’t say she knew much of Aspel, but knew the woman was a councillor. An attractive and strong woman, she’d give her that.
“Ah, truth, please.”
“Alright... What’s one weird food you like that you think no one else likes?” True, it wasn’t exactly a burning, scandalous question, but for Stone, this was enough. It wasn’t as if Stone needed to know Ridley’s deepest, darkest secrets, after all. But perhaps she’d chosen too tame of a question? In any case, it was done now, and she prepared to hear the other’s answer.
This question was a different one, and it made the other girl tilt her head thoughtfully. A food she liked that no one else might have liked? Well, there was-- “In the Commoner’s District, there’s a shop that sells imported Ordalian foods and sweets, and there is a sweet that is like a small rice cake with ice cream inside. Sometimes, they will have a red paste that’s a little sweet.” Was that strange enough? She usually wasn’t one for Ordalian foods, but that one had been an acquired taste.
A few rounds into the game, Ridley had, at least, gotten the hang of the logistics, and felt much less apprehensive about asking others on her turn. Shifting in place when her spine began to bother her due to the position she was perched in, she quickly turned her eyes to her fellow kindred spirit.
“Juliette,” she called out, softly. “Truth, or dare?”
“Truth.” She was finished with dares for, possibly, the rest of her life. Surely, Juliette thought, the soft-spoken blonde would return her kindness with some of her own.
Remembering that the other girl had given her a relatively safe question, considering all the others that had been asked -- and why was no one picking Dare? she’d rectify that -- Ridley relocated a hand to her knee, fingers toying with the hem of her gown once again. “What is the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”
Juliette didn’t have to think long to know the answer to this question, and her cheeks were scarlet before she even began to speak. “I... I do not lie often, but last year, around Faram’s Mass...” she bit her lip, then admitted, with a great deal of self-loathing, “I stole a pie from the kitchen. An entire pie. I snuck it into my room and ate it all. And then I... told Lady Demiel Boris had eaten it, and he was set outside to sleep even though it was snowing and I... still didn’t confess even then, because I was so frightened of what Lady Demiel might say.” Maybe it was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but... “I brought him treats for a week to make up for it. I felt terrible. But I never told anyone except the priest, and now you.”
And dear Faram, it was embarrassing to admit even now, not only that she had lied, but about something so foolish. “Quenten,” she said, hoping to get the attention off of her still-flaming cheeks. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Quen said. She felt she ought to break up the string of “truth”s with a dare, but surely Juliette’s question would be more interesting than whatever dare the girl could come up with.
Juliette thought for a few moments before speaking. “What is the worst mistake you have ever made?”
Quen fell silent as she thought. “This is a really hard one,” she said, mostly to herself. She’d made so many mistakes. The Fathers at the cathedral said that Faram made humes imperfect, but the cap must’ve come off when He was making Quenten—she’d come out a little further from perfection than most.
“I think it must have been only this past Taurus,” she said eventually, “when I snuck out of the tower to fight at the docks. I … injured myself badly, due to my own inexperience, and Dar was there when I woke up. He was angry, and I knew it was only because he loved me and was afraid to lose me, but I became defensive and yelled back, and he didn’t talk to me for a month.” She rested her forehead against Ridley’s back. “He’s the only one who’s always been there for me. I still feel ashamed of how I treated him.”
She wasn’t enjoying herself as much as she had been when they were asking questions about sex. The questions were getting a little too personal.
“Ridley,” she mumbled against her friend’s back. “Truth or dare?”
Before choosing to reply, Ridley reached behind with one arm to steal one of Quen’s hands, lacing their fingers together before bringing their joined hands against the top of her thigh in a gesture of comfort. From Quen’s tone and the answer provided, it was rather evident that the questions had taken a dangerous turn, but she was determined not to let the game end on a terrible note.
“Dare, please.” Because no one had done it in some while.
Quen took a deep breath in and out her nose. Then she sat up and squeezed Ridley’s hand gently before withdrawing her own. She went back to playing with her younger friend’s hair as she thought of a good dare.
“Oh, Ridley, just wait until you hear what I thought of!” she exclaimed, her voice a bit overly-cheerful, but otherwise normal. “Okay. Does anyone have paper?” She didn’t wait for an answer before plowing ahead with the dare. “Ridley, I dare you to write a note, then go downstairs and leave it on the cash register for whoever opens the bar tomorrow.”
A dare of that caliber hadn’t been expected, but it was appreciated on many levels. Being very much not the adventurous type, Ridley might’ve titled her head at a more extreme dare. But this one seemed tame, and Quen hadn’t indicated what sort of note she was to write.
“If you’ll allow me to ask my turn before writing it, I will.” No one expected her to sit down and write the note right then, did they? Besides, she had not a clue about where any decent writing paper was. “Morgayne, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Morgayne said, again, although with a bit of hesitation this time. She’d much preferred when they were still talking about boys, or kissing. This new road the questions had taken was not one she wished to head down.
Ridley, however, was much more comfortable now that they had strayed away from such questions. The first round had boggled her somewhat with regard to the forwardness of the questions and answers. Unfortunately for Morgayne (and Quen, too), she was much less likely to redirect them back to things of a lighter, more fun nature. Such was life.
She tapped her fingertips against the floor, thinking on a question in record time. “If you were to come across a large sum of gil in the middle of the road, what would you decide to do with it?”
Morgayne was relieved. While Ridley’s question wasn’t in the vein of their first round, it was still much easier to answer than the questions that Juliette and Quen had been posed. “I’d take it,” she said readily, “I mean, I wouldn’t be able to figure out whose gil it was, so might as well, right? Finders keepers!”
Immediately after she’d answered, Morgayne swiveled to Stone. “All right, Stone, last one’s for you: truth or dare?” She wanted to wrap this up quickly, so no serious, personal questions could come her way. Perhaps they could move on to a more carefree game, like I Never.
“Oh, fine, I’ll pick dare this time,” Stone said, putting down the ribbon she was about to tie her hair up in. “Might as well, I’ve pulled punches long enough,” and waited for what Morgayne would have her do.
That was unexpected. Morgayne didn’t even have any dares in mind -- at least, none that she would feel comfortable giving the other girl -- and had to take a moment to collect her thoughts. “All right,” she said finally, “I dare you to sing us a verse of your favorite song.” A simple, unembarrassing task that would end the game on a lighter note, she hoped.
Once Stone had picked her song and begun to sing, it seemed, for the most part, that not much harm was done after all that was said. They would move on to their next game, allow Ridley a few moments to slip downstairs to deliver her ‘note’, and continue with their evening with all that heaviness out of the way. Truths were admitted and learned, new friendships were established, and in the end, yes, it had been a good party.
But if there was going to be a next time, Truth or Dare was banned from the game list.