eldorne_girl | (no subject)

Current Mood: giddy

(no subject)

Delia lay awake in bed, curled around one of her pillows. She couldn’t sleep. Every time she began to dose off, another thought, another memory, came to the surface of her mind. With a muttered curse, the slender lady threw back her covers and stalked to the center of her room. Standing still, she composed herself and stared straight ahead. She was so bored. So utterly, completely, mind-numbingly bored. It hadn't been like this before. Surely not. Then...there was a point to it all. A point to the flirting and backstabbing, to the shocking and dancing... Catching hold of a memory of music and balls, Delia smiled slightly. She loved dancing. Really, it was the only thing where she didn't have to think -

Keeping that in mind, Delia sighed softly and began to dance. Slower then she would in truth, but this was only practise. Skip this way in a half circle, and then retrace your steps and then some…

Delia went through the steps, her eyes half-closed, remembering the few months when she had first come to court. She remembered being free and new. She remembered flirting with the heir to the Tortallan throne, while his friends watched on with jealousy.

As she moved back to bed, more asleep then awake, she remembered dancing with Prince Jonathan while Roger looked on with an amused smile…

…smoothly, she stepped away from the masked prince, laughing and breathless. She felt drunk and flushed, the heady air filled with the smell of scented candles, wine, and perfumed nobles. The masked ball was in full swing, with some of the candles dead on the iron chandeliers so the light was darker, redder, then it should be. Turning with the other dancers to face the dais, she curtsied deeply to the masked man on the single throne, spreading her crimsonrubygarnetblood red skirts wide and letting them fall back to her sides with a silken whisper.

Delia felt unbalanced by the heavy tiara on her head, and she had an urge to reach up and rip it off. But not here, not in this ball. She had to find Roger, to tell him that she knew his game and that he could…

Looking to the dais, she took a step back and bumped into someone in the now thick crowd. The masked man met her eyes and gave her an amused smile. Somehow, Delia knew those eyes would be a bright, bright blue.

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The rose went from red to yellow then to red again, never quite settling down but always changing.

"It can't be both," she said softly, biting her bottom lip. "Just one colour. For tonight, it can only be one colour. And it's your choice, you see. Red or yellow?"

Alanna watched the rose carefully. Every time she decided on a color, it would change again. Her breath quickened, and Alanna suddenly felt as though she were trapped in a never ending whirlpool, watching the rest of the world carry on as usual. She looked uneasily into Delia's eyes. Her answer slipped out just as the rose turned yellow again.

"Red." Alanna felt her face turn just that color and she cleared her throat.

The rose turned red, deep red, and stayed that way. And Delia smiled. It was a bright, and yet somewhat shy smile. Delighted, and girlish. It made her look younger, but not as pretty.

"Red it shall be," the girl reached out, and slid the squire's silver mask off, "Alanna." Taking a step back, Delia opened her hands and let the silver mask and red rose fall to the snow either side of her.

Alanna bit her lip. Why did I choose red? Am I insane? She let her eyes wander over Delia's face, puzzled at the obvious contradictions. One moment, Delia could be a lost little girl, and the next, an accomplished flirt with dangerous aspirations. Who was Delia? Distracted, Alanna doesn't try to stop Delia's motion, but is stunned to suddenly find herself without a mask. She stared frantically at Delia, feeling...

Exposed.

Confused. Delia had kissed her knowing that she was Alanna?

Nervous.

She frowned. "How did you know?"

The smile brightened, and there was an element of slyness in it. "Your brother, Alanna, has a sister." It was an answer...of sorts.

She stood there, waiting, looking young and lovely. Raising her eyebrow again, Delia offered Alanna her hand.

"You're right." Alanna puzzled over this. "But most people believe he has a brother."

Her world narrowed to Delia's dancing green eyes. Alanna sensed that her choice whether or not to take Delia's hand had been made the moment she realized Delia had followed her outside. Alanna reaches out with a shaky hand and traces Delia's palm with a fingertip. Bemused, she laces her fingers through Delia's and nods. She squeezes the soft hand, reasserting her strength, as much for Delia's sake as her own.

As Alanna did that, as Alanna took her hand and then squeezed it, Delia seemed to flow closer to her. Their hands were still between them, but Delia was so close now, so close...

Not taking her green eyes away from Alanna's face, she lifted their hands to her lips, and kissed Alanna's knuckles.

"You ducked him in the pond, but never really beat him up. That's what brothers do. Sister? No," a quick smile, "I don't want to talk about Thom."

Mesmerized, Alanna watched Delia lift their hands. She had plenty of time to back away, but couldn't seem to lift her feet. As Delia kissed her knuckles, Alanna unfurled her index finger and traced a line down the other girl's cheek. She barely touched Delia, the gesture a mere hint of contact, but the softness of her skin instantly registered. Chewing on her lower lip, Alanna peered at Delia curiously.

"I suddenly find that I don't either." Alanna offered Delia a hesitant smile.

Delia smiles back at that, the brightness in her eyes warming. Green eyes, green for envy, jealousy, and for new life. And new life can be a new begining on new year's night.

"I am glad of that, Alanna." She says softly, kissing Alanna's knuckles again.

"What are we doing?" Alanna queried seriously. She gently disentangled her hand from Delia's and glanced around. Music drifted down from the ballroom, by turns delightful and eerie. She looked up again and stepped closer. Everything about this evening reeked of challenge, and Alanna knew she would never be satisfied if she turned around and walked away. She had to make sense of this odd situation. Somehow.

"Did you know my true identity when you kissed me?" Alanna swallowed audibly.

Did she? Had she? Or was it all just a wild guess, a conclusion drawn from observation or a spelled idea? So many thoughts, spinning around her mind, so many and the lovely-looking girl didn't know what was real and what was illusion.

Quietly, she replied, "Yes. I did." That, at least, was the truth.

Suffering from a similar problem, Alanna lifted her hands and rested them awkwardly on Delia's shoulders. Her eyes flickered toward the Palace, aware that any of her friends would applaud such a conquest should they happen to look out. Befuddled, Alanna gave Delia a searching look.

"I don't understand any of this, but I fear I have to make an attempt to do so or go quietly insane." She gulped. "Would you kiss me again?" Alanna bit her lip, sure that she had just surrendered the last of her senses.

As Alanna placed her hands on Delia's shoulds, she let out a soft sigh. She needed this, wanted this; wanted this so much, and she didn't know why...

"Yes," she breathes at Alanna's question, and leans forward to do just that. Gently at first, her soft lips touch Alanna's. Then her tongue flicks out to taste, and the kiss slowly grows more passionate. Drawing back slightly, her slender hands now on Alanna's hips and her green eyes dreamy, Delia smiled.

"Like that?"

Alanna tried to approach it as clinically as she would any experiment, but soon found herself sliding her hands into Delia's hair and trembling. Eyelids fluttering shut, she relished the textures and the tastes, all things she had been to afraid to acknowledge inside. When Delia pulls back, Alanna regarded her with stormy eyes.

"Yes," Alanna scowled, completely confused now. Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced back at Delia's full lips.

"Why do you scowl so, Alanna?" Delia asks softly, tilting her head. Her beautiful curls are mussed now, and appear fuller and softer then before. Some what like her lips.

Lifting a hand from Alanna's hip, the green-eyed girl rests a finger against the other girl's lips. "Alanna...no confusion. No scowling. You choose red...unless, unless you want to return the ball? And your handsome Prince who is dancing with the Princess, as he always will be?"

Red rose for Passion, that's what you choose...

Alanna narrowed her eyes, her sharp, white teeth lightly biting Delia's finger. Without knowing why, she nodded once and pushes Delia's hand aside.

"I stand by my word, however foolish it might be."

Delia raised an eyebrow and tossed her head, almost scornfully. As if she were honestly doubting that Alanna had the courage to do just that.

"Stand by your word? If I asked you to...kiss me. Of your own free will and desire, could you do that for you? To me? You seem...skittish. Unsure."

At a loss for words, Alanna could do nothing more than stare at her. She thought of Jonathan, blithely dancing with the Princess. What had Delia said? As it will always be? As it should be. She would always be Alan, and he would always wear Tortall's crown. She glanced at the rose again and clenched her teeth.

"Can you blame me? Moments ago, I was secure in the knowledge that you saw Alan. Now I don't know what to think." Alanna stood on her toes and yanked Delia's head down to her own, kissing her with all the frustration and anger she felt at her situation. But that soon changed, and Alanna gentled her punishing grip. Brushing Delia's hair back from her face, she kissed her softly and felt her senses swim. She didn't want to think anymore.

Delia actually whimpered at Alanna's rough, angry kiss; so much anger, so much frustration...oh, she knew Alan would be like this. Alan. Alanna. Now the kisses were gentle, soft, but that was ok as Delia stepped closer and curled her arm around the small of Alanna's back.

Her tira felt heavy now, so heavy, and absently she reached up to pull it out of her hair and throw it the ground with the rose and the masks. "Don't think then," she whispered huskily. "Don't think, don't think speak, just kiss me."

Alanna clung to her for dear life, hand fisting in the silk of Delia's gown. She needed an anchor. Kissing her desperately, Alanna felt everything disappear. The music from the ball drifted away on the night breeze, leaving a silence broken only by loud heartbeats. She didn't know what to do, had never done anything like this before. Leaning into Delia, she surrendered control. In this and only this, she would let Delia lead.

So lead Delia did, moving her slender hands to the buckle of Alanna's belt and skillfully undoing it. Sliding her hands underneath the other girl's tunic, she began to pull it upwards, breaking off the kiss and take it over Alanna's head. At the sight of the undershirt, she made a small sound of frustration. Curling back against Alanna, Delia kissed her neck and collar-bone.

Making a low noise in the back of her throat, Alanna pulled back and stared at Delia. She reached out and traced Delia's collar bone, her finger barely brushing the soft skin. After studying Delia's eyes for several moments, Alanna slowly pulled her undershirt over her head and shivered in the cool breeze. Surprised by her own boldness, she was suddenly very thankful for the special corset she wore.

Frowning, she studied Delia's dress. It occurred to her that she had no idea what to do with women's clothing. She snorted, pulling Delia closer for another kiss.

"Show me more."

"Mmm, the laces are at the back..." Delia said against Alanna's lips, moving the other girl's hands to the row of neat, black ribbon that held her silk dress up. Gently nipping Alanna's bottom lip, she tilts her head and laughs softly.

"You can tie up that pretty corset, no? You can un-tie me..."As she said that, she steps back and spins around; looking over her shoulder at Alanna. "It's not that hard," Delia said softly, pulling her perfect ringlets out of the way.

Casting a nervous glance toward the palace, Alanna set to work.

"Not hard at all, once you... get past... these sailor knots." She yanked on a stubborn knot with a frustrated grunt, starting as it gave way. As the dress sagged, Alanna ran a fingertip along the nape of Delia's neck and down her backbone, watching as goose bumps arose in her wake. "Cold?"

"Sailor knots? My maid can undo them in a few momements..."

She arched her back slightly at the soft touch of Alanna's fingertip, and though Alanna cannot see it, Delia was blushing faintly. But was it cold? There is snow...but it wasn't cold. Pleasant, in fact. Quite pleasant...

"Never, Alanna."