When the heavenly symphony plays, a thousand doves take off into the sky. Even the dove with the clipped wings leaps from his perch and flies, enchanted by the calls of an angel. For when a beautiful melody graces the heavens, none can resist its endearing call.
Music. There was beautiful music dancing through the room, flitting into the most obscure of corners and staking its claim. Each note skipped into the hearts of millions, sharing with it a beauty and grace that would likely never be known again. You could feel the melodic raptures, the way each passing moment soothed your soul, brought your heart to a stand still as it found solace in this very room.
You were not an aptly special person, and it was rare you were ever invited to events such as these. When the nobles gathered to share their prattle and clink their teacups together, you were always left lurking in the shadows, watching as none could take your existence, what little power you held, seriously. You stood at a spot which barely pulled you into gentry, and those with a named title often pushed you aside.
Why, then, had you been invited here tonight?
Admittedly, you weren't even certain if the man hosting this party had been the one to invite you. His name was on the invitation, but you would hardly put it past someone of higher noble status to toss out their name so casually, to require someone else to take note of their thoughts and desires and falsely scribble their royal names on it.
You didn't allow the questionable situation to bother you, though. It mattered not who truly invited you, or how you had obtained an invitation. All that mattered was that you were here tonight, sifting through the halls as music flowed past you like a cool breeze in the summer.
None seemed to mind your presence. While not a soul attempted to directly pursue you, it seemed like not a one of them was upset you were here. Thus far, they all seemed at peace with the idea that a person of lesser importance was drifting through their ranks. Still, you were too nervous to approach any. You wondered if you looked out of place or not. You had tried to dress your best, putting on your most lavish dress for this affair. It was forest green in base colour, thought lightly decorated in a green of lighter shades. It was long, tight, but not to an obscene level. Did you stand out? You were uncertain of this, honestly.
The music continued on, droning, but oddly comforting. It made you forget any worries, recent or past, resolved or continuing, threatening or trivial. Tonight, there was simply you and the music. The people around you were nothing of concern.
You searched the masses, looking upon each person with interest. Too shy. Can't approach them. They're too different.
Instead, you looked to the immobile, the objects which befittingly decorated the beautiful room. Gorgeous tapestries dotted the walls, lush plant life you had not seen decorating empty corners, paintings of such amazingly vivid colour and detail they stole away from the sights and sounds. Most endearing, was an ice sculpture. It was the centerpiece of a banquet table and stood with such grace and beauty it stole attention from everything around it. It was a winged animal, some sort of bird. It stood with grace, its wings spread far and wide as it moved to take off, an action it would forever be trapped in. The feathers were well detailed for being made of ice. The bird stood with narrow legs and a slender neck which curved graciously until it met with a small head. It was truly a wonderful creature and you found yourself sighing peacefully at its sheer beauty.
The music drew to a close and you turned your head immediately, as if you were lost by the silence. It was as though the music were a guiding hand, taking hold of yours and showing you the way through darkness, and when it fell on deaf ears, you were abandoned.
For a moment, you felt hurt. You felt confused.
Then the music drew back up once more, and peace returned to you as a new song began.
With a new vision in your eyes, you noted the surrounding area, and immediately found yourself drawn to some nearby art. There was a large painting surrounded by three smaller ones, two on the right and one on the left slightly larger than its right-hand companions. The smaller ones were lovely, but nothing you hadn't seen before. There was a flower in a vase, a weakly detailed bird sitting on a branch, and one of pure shape and colour without purpose. It was the centerpiece that caught your eye, a painting of much greater size and detail which lorded itself over the others, exuding power and grace with its mere existence.
You sidled up to it, your eyes partaking in the detail. Every stroke of the paintbrush endeared you. The painting was of a man, whom you were uncertain. Was it a real person, or fictional? If there were real, were they still alive? The man in the painting was clearly prideful, but not to the degree of complete arrogance. He held a true power of beauty and grace and commandeered it fully. He was dressed fully in white, a colour which supported him well. A scarf of the same colour was drawn around his neck, held firmly in place by a beautiful red gemstone. His thick blond hair showed well with his clothing, a shade which shimmered with the brightest rays of the sun as each stand danced through the others, flitting over his shoulders and across his cheeks. His lavender eyes glistened, gazing back at you, the viewer, as if the very painting itself was self-aware it was being observed and lavished in this knowledge.
You took a step back to get a better view at the painting itself, when you nudged against something behind you. You yelped slightly, putting immediate distance between yourself and the other.
Turning around, you saw a servant, a man of no distant appearance. He was not an eyesore by any means, but was nothing aptly special either.
"My apologies," you muttered, despite being aware of your rank above the servant. You didn't have lots of servants back at your estate, but the one you had, you were always polite to. You felt it cruel to mistreat a servant. They were just as much people as anyone else.
The servant shook his head. "The fault is mine, milady. Do forgive me." He spoke with a grand smile, exuding a comforting atmosphere.
You persisted, though not aggressively. "I should have paid more attention to my surroundings." You sighed, turning an eye back to the man in the painting. "I was just admiring this painting."
"Ah, this is a favourite of the master," the servant said with a smile, looking at it shortly thereafter. "Naturally it should be, since he posed for quite a while to get his visage right. Many cherish it. He paid lavishly for this."
"The man in the painting is alive, I presume?" you asked, tossing half your attention to the servant. For some reason, the man in the painting had you enchanted. He was endearing to merely look at, and part of you pained to look away.
The servant answered, "Oh, of course." His smile widened a little as he continued. "The master is naturally alive. He is hosting this event after all." His smile was a little smaller now, like he was questioning you.
You chuckled a little. "You'll have to forgive my misinformation. I'm afraid I don't usually get invited to these sorts of gatherings. I knew nothing of your master besides his name." You continued to ask yourself within why you were even invited, but not a thing came to mind. Instead, you just stared into the eyes of the painting, wondering what this man thought of you that so others didn't, why he bothered to toss an invitation your way. After all, you were trivial to most.
"I'm not surprised you were invited," the servant replied with a small laugh.
Immediately, you were baffled. You looked to the servant, who held strong to a pleasant demeanor, while you lost your train of thought in curious wonder. He seemed so certain. why was that? To you it seemed illogical that you were invited. Yet, to the servant, it seemed like it would be unrealistic for you not to be here. "What do you mean?" you inquired with a tilt of the head and a glow in your eye.
"Would you like anything to drink?" The servant was changing the topic. Why? Was there something he didn't want you to know.
"Why did your master invite me? Why is it so clear?" you persisted. You had seen your servant play this game, change the topic suddenly with guests by asking an innocent query about something trivial like refreshments. Your servant played that game when a guest was close to obtaining undesirable information about you.
The servant frowned, aware his game had failed. Polite, he did not continue to push it. "The master is a noble man, polite and endearing, harmless in natural appearance. He simply has some curious hobbies. They would not be relevant to your interests." You blinked, but had no words. "Now, milady, in all honesty, do you require refreshments?"
Pushing further wouldn't get you anywhere and that was alright, to be fair. Part of you didn't want to know anything more.
"No thanks," you then replied.
"Then I'll depart, milady," the servant answered before bowing and turning off.
You moved your eyes from the painting, giving it a last endearing glance. Nowhere to move to, you kept still. The music was enchanting as it lulled on and you were uncertain if a song changed had occurred or not. You had been too enthralled, too absorbed in other details. As you searched the area, you saw a mass of people nearby. A crowd had drawn, surrounding something or someone and chattering incessantly. You wondered what was of such interest, staring, but trying not to appear nosy. You fleetingly glanced low, but could not see past the people. Eventually, you surrendered, turning away. Once more, you looked at the art, interested.
Much movement occurred behind you, but you showed no interest in it. The crowd was likely breaking apart to investigate other things. As footsteps moved behind you, you ignored them. They grew louder and you knew someone was drawing closer, but you found it safe to assume they were not heading for you. After several moments, the footsteps stopped, almost immediately. The person had come to a halt, close by, but no words were spoken. You didn't look, didn't bother. They weren't here for you.
"Admiring the painting?" It had been dangerously long between the ending of the footsteps and the beginning of words.
"I'm sorry," you apologized, turning to face the newcomer. "Did you want to look at it?"
You stopped your sentence immediately, distracted, disoriented. Standing in front of you was a blond haired man with shining lavender eyes. He was dressed up in the same exact outfit as the man in the painting, and the same emotions stared at you from a living person.
"Oh…! Forgive me, sir! I didn't know you were behind me. I thought you were… I didn't mean to be so rude." You were flustered. You had never expected a person such as this to seek an audience with you.
He smiled, his lips curling upwards in a way that made you feel both outdone and comforted. "It's no concern at all." He slipped forward, closing distance between you and him. "You were of no ill intent, my darling lady. If anything I was the fool, brash as I act. No way to approach a lady, might I say." He took up your hand in his as he spoke, his gloved fingers intertwined gently with yours. With each word, he held you softly, his eyes keeping a solid grip on yours. "Do forgive me," he purred before moving in to plant a kiss on the top of your hand.
"You're okay." You tried to utter the sentence with a trait face, an unwavering tone. He had caught you off guard. You hadn't expected him to approach you with such grace and divine sweetness.
"Just understand, I had to be brash, my little forest nymph," the noble began. He kept your hand in his, his fingers searching to find a place within yours. "I was simply graced by your endearing beauty. I simply had to catch up with you before someone else did so."
"You think I'm pretty?" you inquired uncertainly, nervous, flustered. Never before had a man been so directly interested in you, certainly not enough to consider you this fondly.
"Gorgeous, dear," the answered with a voice like silk. "I was surprised to see another man had not already moved to speak with you. You are like a flourishing leaf in the forest. The season had turned to autumn, and the other leaves have changed to reds and yellows and oranges. They were all so similar, all so dull. Yet you are the one leaf who refuses the change, the one that draws attention. Usually overshadowed by so many others, when you are allowed a chance to be different, your beauty shines. The people turn and look, endeared by your beauty, enamored by what they should have seen all along. I look at you and I am in adoration. Even as the seasons pass and the leaves all become like you once more, I will forever be able to find you, to track down your beauty, because your green shines brighter than the others, glowing, gorgeous, a specimen I will soon not forget. You, my little forest nymph, are an object of sheer beauty."
You were taken aback by this nobleman, by his mere words, the way he weaved them together more efficiently than a spider drawing its web. He held your eyes in his the entire time and laced together sweet words for your ears to love.
"May I know your name, little forest nymph? I bet it sounds just as lovely dancing off the tongue as your presence does glowing in my eyes," he purred to you.
You spoke your name to him, and he looked satisfied, his smile growing as the word exited your mouth.
"Beautiful. Your name shares your beauty." He spoke it, but it sounded much better coming from him then you. "My name is Aleister Chambers, but you may call me Viscount Druitt. It sounds far more elegant."
The party's host. You remembered the name Viscount Druitt from the invitation. You never expected to speak with a figure such as himself at a party, nonetheless in such an endearing manner. He was stunning, charming. He held your interest strongly, kept you locked on his presence with his soft words and loving gaze.
Viscount Druitt gazed upwards, the first moment he had taken his gaze off you. As your eye contact was broken, you finally noticed the outside world. When speaking with him, he had become your world, and the surrounding noise ceased to exist. Voices fell to silence and even the music was of no interest. You had not noticed the room drawing into a realm of silence as the music drew to a close. Another song did not start up immediately, but from his gaze, he expected this.
"I see they have played all that they know." Viscount Druitt hummed to himself, his eyes locked on the stage. He then turned back to you, catching you by surprise as he took your other hand in his as well, lifting them both up to draw your gaze to his. He lowered himself a little to stand at your height, staring straight in your eyes. "Please wait here, my little forest nymph. I will be but a moment and I would be ever so saddened if you were to leave."
He then released his grasp on your hands, sliding away as quickly as he had approached you. He moved with such agility that you were taken aback as your hands no longer touched his. He was at the stage in no time, speaking with the musicians. You found yourself watching him longingly, wondering if he was going to truly return. He was gone for a while, and flitted across the room several times and spoke with many other people. He cross-referenced back to the stage, speaking between many. Quite a while passed as he performed these actions, though how long you were uncertain of. He kept at the stage for quite a while, speaking between a few different people, nodding and making small hand gestures occasionally. Eventually, though, you noted him turn on his heel and move back to meet you.
"You are still here, forest nymph. I am so glad," he purred gently. "I have set up for a change in events, nothing concerning. I just prefer the people to show interest in something other than myself for a while."
You were curious. "What's going on?"
"Would you be interested in being alone with me? You and I together, a room of our own, not a soul to bother us. We could do whatever suits your fancy." Viscount Druitt held your gaze once more.
"Just us?" you cried in astonishment. "As in, privately."
With a soft hum, Viscount Druitt answered, "Yes, forest nymph. Not even my servants will bother us."
Part of you was nerved by this request, sensing a presence you did not prefer. Yet, there was another part of you which was interested, curious. You had never had the eye of a man like this before, especially not one so charming, so enamoring.
Viscount Druitt drew closer to you, pushing slowly into your personal space. You had sensed it before, but now he was a little bolder, moving quickly. He placed one arm around your side, his touch still harmless and gentle, and with the other hand, he moved for yours. He had you drawn closely to him, hardly a spot to breathe alone. As you exhaled, your breath mixed with his. You felt his hand fall lower on your body, but minded it not. You were focused on his eyes, a stunning lavender you had never seen before, focused on you. "I do not mean to be aggressive, my dear." He still spoke with a gentle purr.
"No, you're not aggressive." you surrendered. "I would be honored to be with you privately, if you would like that."
"I would love it, darling," he purred, a purr with such power it was almost startling.
His hand was just beginning to go below your waist when he drew it back and held it out for you, sparkling eyes watching hopefully. You accepted his hand as he guided you away from the crowds. Chaos quickly drew to silence as he guided you away from the light, away from the livelihood. Soon all you could hear were footsteps echoing off the walls as the two of you walked, an eerie darkness looming of the walls. As he drew open a door, the noise reverberated into your ears, bouncing off the walls, undeterred as no other noises moved to bring it to a halt. A dim, peaceful light shone from the inside of the room and you were drawn to its source. You searched the room as you moved into it. The room was simply, with only a bed, a couple chairs near a small table, and only a few simple wall-based decorations. The door closed with a vivid click behind you and everything fell silent. Even Viscount Druitt seemed to cease to exist. You heard no movement after the door closed, no charming voice calling to you. You stumbled into concern and towards fear. Was something the matter?
You turned to see Viscount Druitt hovering near the door, head held low. His pride was gone, his glowing livelihood vanished. He looked suddenly stricken down.
"Are you alright, Viscount?" you asked with a strong concern in your voice.
Many seconds of increasingly disturbing silence passed by before Viscount Druitt finally spoke, weakly mumbling, "I can't do it to you."
"Do what?" you questioned with fear. "What were you going to do?"
"For some reason, I can't bring myself to," Viscount Druitt lulled once more.
"Viscount, please. You're frightening me. What's going on?" You stepped back, looking for a path of retreat before realizing one didn't exist. There was no windows and the only door was the one he was standing directly in front of.
Viscount Druitt lifted his head to look at you, sullen eyes staring at you, glazed. "Notice how there are no paths out? On purpose. This room is a trap, a cage one cannot escape once they've been lured into it. I bring girls here to take them down and drag them off to a different place. You were meant to be prey, prey to a market you would shudder to hear. You were to be lured into the darkness and pawned off on one who would be most unkind to you." He lifted his head a little further. "I can't do it to you, though. Forest nymph, I betrayed your trust. I lured you in with sweet words and comforting love to lure you into this trap. I betrayed you. Yet, I find I cannot do the same thing to you I do to so many others. I truly find the girls I bring here endearing. I wish we were coming here to have a cozy night together, to explore the depths of each others hearts and souls. Your eyes, your voice, it reminds me of why I speak with women, why I love them so. I find myself unable to take you down, charmed by you and who you are. I don't expect you to like me after I've tried to do this to you, but I can at least ask you forgive me."
You somehow found these words comforting, a mother's soft, loving touch in a harsh world. You slid towards him, moving to make physical contact with him. You were uncertain if you should touch him, but he did not seem offended as you lightly touched his side, thus you proceeded further. You wrapped your arms around him, stared into his eyes. He seemed taken aback, but did not fight your embrace. Though, he did not share it back.
"You admitted your wrongdoing," you said to him. "It's true you tried to lure me into a trap, and that was cruel of you. Yet, when it came time to spring the trap on me, you did nothing foul. You revealed your trap, you saved me from your own demons. I forgive you, and I still like you." He was now fully startled by your words. "I don't care if your original intention was dark. You were still kind to me. You complimented me, and you approached me with love when no other would. You made me feel like I had a chance out there, like people can love me. You made me feel beautiful, and I never felt that way before."
"You are beautiful, my little forest nymph," insisted Viscount Druitt, his tone moving back slowly towards loving.
"You're the first to think that," you admitted. "And that makes me fond of you. Your intentions were false, but your love was true, and that's all I care about."
You began to push your body against his and this was when he finally took to you. You could feel him pressing against you as well, and his arms wrapped around your backside, holding you fondly. He kept his hands low, but you were not offended. You stared fondly into his loving lavender eyes and found no harm, no further ill intent. You then moved your mouth towards his, taking him by surprise as you planted a kiss directly on his lips. It didn't take long for him to take to it, returning the gesture as he found peace in it. His eyes fell closed in peace and happiness and his grip on your tightening. You could feel his dominant nature pushing at you, seeking to understand you fully, to conquer you as his territory. You allowed it, for you were simply satisfied to have his loving gaze on you, his hands touching your form.
Eventually, the two of you broke apart, and your eyes locked with his as you said to him, "I'm still interested in spending the night with you."