eldorne_girl | (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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Delia sank with her, curling her slender fingers around Alanna's hand. Her skirt billowe out; the red silk dark against her white skin. Leaning forward, the slender girl kissed the tip of Alanna's nose.

"That's what makes it fun..."

"Is that what this is? I thought it was pure insanity," Alanna murmured. Eyes constantly moving over Delia's form, she pushed the rest of Delia's gown down around her waist, frowning as the fabric proved difficult to control. "You are more fair than any one person has a right to be." She captured Delia's gaze. "But you know that, don't you?" Moving quickly, she kissed Delia before she could respond, pushing her back in the snow.

And that was probably a good thing, as Delia would have said 'yes'. Kissing her back, she somehow rolled Alanna over onto her back. Moving so that she was stradling her hips, Delia looked down at the other girl.

"Quickly, quickly...you are so fast, 'lana...let me show you," she says softly, ghosting her finger-tips down Alanna's body. "Let me show you...

let me show you how this feels, how that, how I can make your breath hitch with a flick of my tongue and your cheeks flush at the sound of my voice...

let me show you the world can disappear just us two alone, with just my presence to keep you from drowing in lies and boyish manners.

let me show, 'lana, what I can teach you...

Alanna gasped, her face flushing. For once, she was glad to give up control.

"I don't know how to slow down," she whispered. "I've forgotten. Help me remember."

She wrapped her hands around Delia's waist, slowly tangling her fingers in the long, chestnut hair.

Delia, Delia. Make it all go away. I don't want to pretend anymore. I'm losing myself, and I don't know why. This is what I wanted. What I want. Why can't I be both?

Why do I turn to you like this? The taunting, the endless requests... I should loathe you. Why am I so fascinated?

So soft, so sharp, so certain of who and what you are. Painful honesty. Help me.

With that, Alanna let go of her remaining reservations. Whatever else happened, Delia had a way of bringing reality into sharper focus. After stumbling around in a thick haze of confusion for so long, Alanna surrendered. Girl pretending to be boy, squire hiding a treacherous secret, Alan or Alanna - for this brief, idyllic moment, it just didn't matter anymore.

Does this help, 'lana? Will this teach you...oh, yes, help me back, I've taught you how, please...

Maybe Alanna could teach her how to calm down, how to rest for a moment and enjoy what they have deserved...just to rest, here...

But there is no rest for those who long for more, for better. That prick of discontent drives them; this Delia knew well. Never rest, never lie back and enjoy the peace...the slender, pale girl slowly, languidly, untangled her limbs from the squire's and sat up; her thick hair and green eyes dark in the bright moonlight.

"'Lana...wake up, look, 'Lana..." As she spoke, she leaned over and picked up the rose; cradling the dark flower in her small, pale hands. Delia looked up, looking otherworldly and full of contrasts.

"The rose is blue, Alanna..."

I want to help. Is it odd that I want to shield you? Delia, for all my surety and drive, I am lost. We are both lost. I feel like a child unwrapping a present from an absent parent, anxiously excited, but nervous that the item contained within will spawn too many additional questions. Love, life, duty... nothing makes much sense at the moment.

Will I ever be good enough? Will I ever prove myself worthy, to Jon, to Tortall... to you?

Why does that matter?

Alanna blinked in confusion as Delia sat up, her hair falling in waves about her face. Following suit, she trailed a finger down Delia's spine and stared at the blue rose in consternation.

"Blue, Delia?" She frowned. "I do not remember the meaning of blue."

Delia didn't speak for a moment, just cradled the rose in her small hands. No, not blue, why did it have to be blue...

"Alanna," she said at least, looking up at the other girl. "Blue...blue means Folly. Impossiblity." Delia bit her bottom lip, and let the rose fall to the ground. Somehow, it kept on falling because they themselves were fading away. All that was left was Delia's light, throaty, wistful voice and the words contained in it.

"Alanna, it means we are impossible..."