WHO Evie Frye & Serefin Meleski WHERE Evie’s Apartment @ Morningside WHEN October 12, afternoon. WHAT Tea! That is a cover for “what are your intentions with my brother.” STATUS Complete! WARNINGS Self-deprecating humor, some self-loathing, brandy added to tea.
Evie could be subtle when she wanted to, she was trained in the fine arts of it from a very young age. To blend in, to lie her way out of things, to go unnoticed, despite being a woman wearing trousers in the streets of London. So when it came to lacking subtlety, it was on purpose.
The invitation had gone to Serefin for afternoon tea, when she knew Jacob was already working and not likely to crash the party, and pointedly for her Morningside apartment, rather than one of the train compartments of Jacob’s full-time residence. She still preferred having both and switching between the two, liking the privacy and modern amenities they were afforded, and the height. Sometimes a little space between the twins was a good thing.
And sometimes it was equally as fun to leap off the balcony and use her zipline to get around the city, as it was to call on her brother’s suitor for surprise tea.
She knew when Serefin approached, and went about the motions of filling the teapot while she called out. “The door is unlocked, let yourself in.” Pastries had already been set out in the sitting area - next to the decanter of brandy - extras that she didn’t always indulge in herself but it was just an added thing to alarm Serefin with over-the-top niceties.
Evie Frye was terrifying. She reminded Serefin so much of Ostyia that he feared what would happen if the two of them ever crossed paths. He had never wanted to irritate Ostyia in fear of retribution, and the same fear applied to Evie. He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't think he could say no.
Besides, something was clearly bothering her enough to invite Serefin over for a private conversation and curiosity plagued him. Serefin entertained a handful of guesses, but none he particularly wanted to talk about. He wondered how long Evie would let him get away with dodging questions and giving half answers—certainly not as many as Jacob allowed.
The surprising thing was that the invitation was not for the train or even the Underground but for the upper floors of Morningside. Serefin frowned, then grew wildly suspicious as he climbed the stairs. He needed time to collect his thoughts, push away the rumblings of an old god in his mind, and not overthink this meeting.
Serefin had lifted his hand to the door but Evie told him to enter before he even had a chance to knock. Assassins.
There was nothing noticeably different about the layout of the apartment, only that it looked like he was expected. Serefin eyed the pastries, but his attention went to the brandy. He was already uncorking it and taking a sniff—as if he could tell if there was something off about the alcohol. Serefin liked to pretend he could tell.
"Was the invitation to tea real or is brandy what you consider tea these days?"
Evie made a little positive humming noise while the tea steeped in the pot and she started putting together the tray, only glancing back once at him to catch him sniffing the brandy. It made her quietly chuckle, knowing exactly what kind of fear she inspired in him.
It was really difficult to be upset about that. Evie liked being feared. Back home, being written off as a woman was common enough that being feared was far more enjoyable, and it afforded her a lot more opportunities that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. “I wasn’t sure how long you could go without a glass so I made sure to set it out.”
When the tea was almost at it’s time, she carried the tray into the sitting area and set it down on the table, right in the middle before gesturing to the empty chair on the other side. Instead of asking what she was skirting around: What are your intentions with my brother, Evie took a seat and kept it casual. “Is tea a regular thing back home for you? It’s a favorite in our time.”
That felt like a challenge, and Serefin recovered the decanter and put it down. He could go without. Not that he felt the need to prove to Evie that he had some semblance of self-control, but it couldn't hurt him, right? Trying to guess what Evie was getting at was complicated, and Serefin needed a (mostly) clear head if he was going to keep up.
He watched her put the tray down, sit, and ask about tea with curiosity. Serefin slowly sank into the opposite chair without having to glance away from her face —his awareness training with Jacob had paid off, he just never thought it was in an attempt to be impressive, or not be embarrassing, in front of his sister.
"No, we are coffee people. It's needed to cut through the morning hangovers from copious wine and vodka," Serefin said. "This hot flavored water doesn't usually have enough kick." He leaned back in his chair, making a gesture toward her to serve herself first.
"You didn't ask me here for pastries and small talk, Dame Frye." It wasn't a question, but he expected an answer.
Evie raised an eyebrow at Serefin, looking at him for a long moment before reaching forward to pour tea into the cups. “The pastries and small talk are extra, I invited you for tea.” She put back the teapot at the same time as her voice paused. “I’m sorry it’s not coffee, I like that just as well but I’m better at tea. It’s black, at least.” Her personal favorite, and the stronger, the better.
She added sugar to hers and left the milk untouched, leaving it at that and leaning back so Serefin could prepare his the way he liked. If he liked. Blunt honest was probably better in this situation, but Evie didn’t like being blunt. That was Jacob’s twin job. She could at least reach for a little bit of it, however, plucking a truth out of the sky unexpectedly. “If I’d invited you to anything else, I couldn’t have planned it for when Jacob was working. The bar, the Underground.. He’d make himself known.”
Serefin reached for his cup but didn't add anything to his tea. He made sure to take his time with his first sip as he attempted to suss out what Evie was getting at. "And having him around for this conversation is a problem because why, precisely?" Serefin asked, his voice arching in a teasing way, but it fell a little flat. He was starting to regret holding off on the brandy; Serefin would have rather had a looser tongue.
He sighed, giving up pretenses, and put his teacup down. "If this about the other night—" Jacob had said it wasn't a secret, and they hadn't done anything wrong. But there has been something about that night after the fire, and the other nights where they conveniently met up without Evie knowing, that plagued him.
"He came to my apartment looking worse for wear, and he brought me a gift." Not the point, but, "I'm not going to turn your brother away."
Evie laughed. It wasn’t full of humor and full-bodied, by any means, but the light chuckle was more than most usually got to hear from her. “Because I prefer not being the third wheel to things?” She would have thought that much was obvious, but stated it anyway, because normally the twins did a great deal together, but Evie was rarely as friendly and open as Jacob was. He was the one that was easier to talk to, and she wouldn’t deny it.
The other night made her raise both brows, interested now. She hadn’t actually known about the other night, but if it had been because of the hotel-- well.
She wasn’t surprised. It did turn her a little more quiet and serious, however. “I’m glad he had someone to go to, actually. What was the gift?”
The laugh from Evie, as small as it was, made Serefin relax. But what truly made him shift course was the way she lifted her brows. It seemed now they had equal footing—they each had knowledge the other wanted. Although, Serefin didn't know how long he could hold Evie's interest with being coy about his whiteboard gift.
He propped an elbow up on the table, chin in hand, and gave Evie a curious look. "Wine," Serefin lied, and his smirk nearly gave the lie away. He had been so flattered by the actual gift from Jacob; the consideration behind the thoughtfulness had struck a tender spot inside of him. "Red, and tragically cheap, but all of it starts to taste the same to me after a while. A sorry for bothering you so late gift."
With her question answered, albeit not honestly, Serefin took it as his turn to ask his own. "Why would you feel like the third wheel? You know that I have no intention of coming between you two."
Evie could tell he was lying, even without listening closer for his heartbeat or tuning in with Assassin skills that were finely honed. But she didn’t call him on it, letting him have his little secret and filing the information away for a later date. It wasn’t shocking, in any regard, because Jacob felt a lot of things fiercely, and giving little gifts was just one of those things he sometimes did.
“He never has had good taste in wine.” Not that she was one to talk, given her own knowledge of alcoholic beverages came from the exact same place as his. They weren’t especially posh people nor rich in the same sense as others. “But I’m not worried about that. I never would be.” It was honest, and while they’d had fights and arguments many, many times over, they were still the sort of family that stuck together.
For the longest time it had just been Evie and Jacob against the world. Even when their father had been alive, it hadn’t always been the divide that Ethan Frye had fostered, they’d paired up just as often as they’d divided against. “Jacob’s just always been much better at drawing attention, and it’s been increasingly obvious how close you two are. Don’t you agree?”
Serefin could be painfully obtuse, and he felt that right now this was one of those times. But in front of Evie Frye he was determined not to miss obvious signs and slight tells, even if that required a little work on his part. Even if Serefin was allergic to work.
He reached for a pastry, having deemed the whole set-up poison-free by now. And if it wasn't, Serefin did just buy himself a quick way out of this conversation if it went poorly.
"Of course, I agree. I enjoy spending time with him, I'm not going to deny myself company I enjoy," Serefin said, tearing a bit off in an unintentionally nervous habit and shoving it into his mouth. Food was a useful procrastinator, and he needed the time between chewing to pick his words wisely. "But I wouldn't say either one of you is better at drawing attention than the other. Jacob is just—"
He frowned, realizing it was suddenly very difficult to put into words what Jacob was to him, especially in front of his sister. Friend felt adequate, but it missed contextualization. Serefin sounded immediately put out, when he asked, "Why? Why does it matter if we're close?"
Evie didn’t even bother hiding that she looked like she won the lottery. But she did attempt to put it behind the rim of her teacup as she grinned into it while Serefin spoke. What he didn’t say spoke volumes in her brain, and Evie started piecing everything together as if it was a target board, much like the one they kept on the train.
“That was a quick turn into defensive territory. Polite, as well.” She hadn’t expected him to say she was as good at drawing attention as Jacob was - Evie knew that wasn’t true, and was more than fine with it. Not to mention, it was just a different sort of attention. One she was happy to let her brother have.
“It matters,” it was her turn to use the food as a way to draw things out, but in Evie’s case it was mostly to fuck with Serefin. “Because Jacob is very important to me, I love him a great deal, and I want to make sure you’re not going to just cause chaos and vanish into the night.”
Realizing the mistake he made by getting defensive was annoying. Serefin would like to say he knew where that slight outburst came from, but it was wrapped up in that nebulous space in his brain trying to still sort out the right word for Jacob. He ate another bite of his pastry, with a resigned huff.
"I assure you, Dame Frye, the only vanishing I will do is unintentionally and on Vallo's whims. Where would I go?" It had been a question he often posed to other people: if Serefin had any say in the matter, he would never leave Vallo. Arriving had been a huge adjustment, but it was absent of the dangerous responsibilities that came from inheriting a kingdom at war. If he could manage to break free from Velyos, the last remaining frustrating piece, Serefin would find a way to tether himself to the city center forever.
"And I would never cause chaos to your brother," Serefin added, waving a dismissive hand, as if the idea was ridiculous. Again, he was missing the point. "You are very protective of him, and I cannot fault you for that, but I am attempting to be there for when chaos finds him."
Not to mention that Serefin wanted to be there for him, but he didn't dare speak that fragile desire out loud. "You have had many years to perfect your sisterly care, so give me a little credit as I learn where I might fit. It has only been a few months."
Evie made a positive little humming noise behind her teacup, putting on a sense of pure calm sitting across from him. It wouldn’t do to lose her cool as far as this went - and it helped that she actually liked Serefin. At the very least, he was spades better than two out of three of Jacob’s previous interests.
Even if he was royalty. That thought made her wrinkle her nose, but she reminded herself he didn’t want to be, and was a great deal more like them than he was the royalty they were familiar with. That reminder helped.
But she couldn’t help her brain’s reaction to things, which was a level of practicality that sat right on the surface, asserting itself even when others didn’t want to be practical. Evie was good at skirting until she wasn’t. “Make no mistake, I’m glad he has that and wouldn’t wish to get in the way of those attempts.” She took a sip of her tea and leveled a look at him. “Do you plan to fit into his bed?”
There was no way to know what basis Evie was getting her information from, but Serefin nearly choked at her bluntness. Was she testing him? Trying to catch him in a lie? Was she trying to find out his intentions? Oh, that wormed terribly under his skin. A series of memories flipped rapidly in the forefront of his mind from the other night—Jacob undressing on his couch, touching his hands, the blush that always seemed to work its way into his cheeks.
Serefin shoved the thoughts away. Any smart person, who had spent even a sliver of time with Evie Frye, knew being distracted around her was a bad idea.
He leveled a look, before reaching for the brandy. Might as well. "Only if he invited me," Serefin said, as he diligently spiked his tea. He could play this game with Evie, while forcibly ignoring the actual important parts of this conversation. "I do terrible with rejection, but I have seen him on more than one occasion without a shirt, and he seems primed to take off his trousers if I ask politely. Shall I keep you updated in explicit detail if that happens?"
“No details needed, thank you.” If she could stem him off there, she would. Evie’s nose wrinkled again in annoyance over the direction that went, immediately, as if Serefin was digging in just to rile her up and get her to stop asking questions. Only if he invited me seemed to be the most honest Serefin had been yet with her, but that was only because she had no wish to speculate on Jacob’s state of dress at any given point.
Evie noted him going for the alcohol, and watched silently, without any spoken judgement, though her gaze likely held a little. She doubted he cared. She wouldn’t have, if the roles had been reversed.
There was a quiet regard with her next words, steady and sure as she looked across the table, feeling an ocean away. Her worry for Jacob fought a war with her knowledge that meddling too much would piss him off, with the extra addition of wondering if they would never get past idiocy if they weren’t nudged. “If you aren’t actually interested, you can just tell me so and I’ll leave it, you know. You don’t have to try and run me off with gross imagery.”
Serefin gave Evie a smug grin, as he drank his brandy-tea, which was still more tea than brandy. But he only got to indulge in his one single win against Jacob's sister, before she was giving him a look (he ignored, he could tell it was about the alcohol) and growing serious (that he was more concerned about.) She was going to say something he didn't like. He could feel it instinctively, as he mentally—and maybe physically—braced for impact, clutching the delicate teacup a little tighter.
"Is that what this is about? Whether or not I'm interested in your brother? Evie, please," Serefin said, glancing away in a practiced disinterested amusement, attempting to downplay his racing heart. He also hadn't actually answered her question, which should have been its own tell. "That's why you didn't want him here. He doesn't know that you are attempting to play matchmaker on his behalf."
Oh, oh. Serefin sat back in his chair, looking positively delighted by this turn of events. He could stall, he could stall forever. Then he wouldn't have to tell Evie what a terrifying notion it was to have feelings for a person, her brother, without any idea what to do with them.
"Does that mean he's interested? Do you need to know my familial history? I have never had to do this without the interference of advisors for the right noble line to align myself with."
Evie let Serefin continue on, almost rambling at this point, to a degree that would have been funny to her, if it wasn’t about Jacob as a topic. She was well-versed in learning to school her temper and anger - as a woman and an Assassin, it was required for both in several different ways. To both have twice the amount of patience as the men around her so she wasn’t deemed emotional or hysterical, and to give off an air of passiveness.
Stalling, teasing, joking. It was all tactics she’d seen - and used, though that was more Jacob’s area than hers - and it just made Evie stare. Waiting it out, compiling her words with the utmost care. Jacob didn’t need a matchmaker or a meddler (well, maybe he did) and she was overstepping a dozen boundaries he’d complain about later. Especially if Serefin immediately went to tell him about it.
“Truth be told,” Evie went back to her tea, letting her gaze drop away from the blue blood across from her. “I don’t think I really need to know much else. Jacob doesn’t come with a dowry or lands, so you’re shit out of luck if that’s what you’re holding out for.”
"Do I look like someone who wants or needs dowries or land? Wait—" He held up his hand to stop her. "Don't answer that. But I just want to remind you that I did just throw a somewhat priceless ring into the ocean for entertainment because I do dislike most nobility and their customs."
Serefin didn't know if he won whatever round of interrogation, but as he shot Evie a pleased, impish grin, he didn't feel great about it. He was still thinking about Jacob, about whether or not he was interested—he was, he very much was when put a finer point on the whole situation—but there were parts of him that viciously rebelled against the idea.
He wondered if Evie knew about the god-eye, the other dangerous unwanted voice inside his head. She might not have been so predisposed to prod Serefin about her brother, if she knew. It was one of the many reasons Serefin held back around Jacob. That, and there was too much about his previous life that he had yet to divulge to the person who was, for all intents and purposes, the object of his affection.
Upon further reflection, Evie absolutely won this one.
"You realize that asking if I'm interested is not a yes or no question. There's layers. Complications. I thought you might appreciate my discretion and the careful way I am handling it."
She had let her joke fall where it might land, a heavy sigh working it’s way up as he went on about not wanting dowries. Evie so desperately wanted to pick apart that statement - as she did most things Serefin said with such casual jokes. Throw away a priceless ring for entertainment, or use it to gain a part of yourself back with that act of rebellion?
They may not have been nobility, but the twins had a great deal in common with Serefin, and each week seemed to reveal something else. If she’d known he was thinking about the eye, she might’ve been tempted to ask about it - but that was something shared with her via Jacob, and not Serefin, and had no place in this conversation. It was like walking on a tight-rope, weaving across the line to try and avoid getting Jacob into trouble and still figure out how to get these two idiots to talk to one another about clearly hidden feelings.
And the lack of a no did indicate that well-enough to her, even if the rest of it hadn’t. That was really all she needed to know, and to watch his response to how he was approached about it (badly, Evie would be filing that away for later).
She did eventually sigh, and reached forward to mirror Serefin by putting brandy into her tea. “I’m not putting you on the chopping block, Serefin. Not casting you out to sea, saying you aren’t an eligible enough beau for my brother. If you’ve no wish to talk about your layers, I won’t make you uncomfortable by badgering.”
"You're not making me uncomfortable. I do not get uncomfortable. Or if I do, you're not supposed to know. I had that trained out of me a long time ago," Serefin said, drinking from his cup. It hid the slight, brief flush to cheeks at Evie's admission of eligible enough beau. Is this what genuine praise felt like? Acceptance by another person? This hadn't been the first time Evie had surprised him with considerate, yet emotionally striking, sentiments. She was starting to know him and, well, that was uncomfortable, but not in the way he thought.
He raised one eyebrow, dubiously surprised by Evie's turn to the brandy. He had almost offered it himself but thought that would be a weird faux pas as a guest invited to tea.
Instead, Serefin held his cup to her, as a toast. "Give me more time with this brandy and we can talk all about my layers. Unfortunately, none of it involves the removal of anyone's clothing and everything about how I was suspected of treason. You'll like that one."