Valentine
Evey was not particularly fond of the boredom that came as a natural side effect to living in the Shadow Gallery, hours upon hours spent with nothing to do, days dedicated to wondering what would become of her future. No, she was most definitely not fond of such a lack of activity, but after having spend nearly three months in V's underground lair she was finally beginning to master the art of entertaining herself. There were plenty of things to do in the gallery if one was creative enough.
Today, the solution to the problem was working on the never ending project of ridding her room of books. A task that V often assisted her with, when he had spare time. V insisted that she only be allowed to work on the lower stacks when he was away, as he did not want her injured, but he encouraged the work. A good portion of their current friendship had developed while performing this activity, and Evey occasionally smiled as she went about her work as pondered the fluttering of past memories. V loved going through his old books; many of them had been buried and forgotten beneath the stacks for more than a decade, and he relished in their rediscovery. He would converse excitedly about them for hours upon end, jumping at the chance to share this portion of his life with her and to introduce her to his many of his most loyal and beloved companions.
Evey sighed as she made her way back to her bedroom, she had already delivered and shelved nearly ten stacks of books within a room that V had recently vacated for use as an additional library for the storage. It was a rather long walk from room to room, leading her deep within the galleries unknown spaces, through dark hallways and past locked doors, but Evey enjoyed the exercise. She was getting a bit lonely, however, and was beginning to wonder where V had gone. After breakfast he had disappeared from sight. He was still in the gallery, Evey knew that much, but exactly where remained a mystery. He had seemed a bit hesitant around her the past few days, almost…nervous? She was not sure if she wanted to know why, considering his line of work.
Her thoughts came to a pause as she entered her room and came across an old, leather-bound, book lying in the middle of the floor. It was funny, as she did not recall leaving it there or dropping anything during her trips. She shrugged and bent down to pick it up. The cover was embellished with gold lettering. Twelfth Night, it read. Well that was rather ironic, she thought.
As she picked it up, her eyes caught sight of three slips of paper, nestled underneath upon the floor. Her forehead crinkled as she examined them, each of them was numbered and lay in order, peaking her curiosity and raising a sense of confusion within.
She picked up the first small slip of red paper, turning it around to discover a small poem written cleanly upon the other side. Mouthing the words out silently, she proceeded to read it.
A small treasure hunt
On which you shall now be lead,
By these small red strips
She picked up the next strip:
A valentines treat
At the end of this journey
You shall soon receive.
"What?" she whispered to herself as her brows furrowed in confusion.
Was it that late into the month already? Valentine's day? She had not known, had not even thought of the holiday in over a decade.
A treat? God, had V gotten something for her?
She smiled softly at the gesture, a twinge of excitement trilling through her as she considered the implications of such an act. Was there a possibility that V felt something for her…something more than friendship? Perhaps even, dare she say it, a twinge of love and attraction? How fervently she wished for such a notion to be true, even if only a little. There was no denying it, over the past few months she had begun to grow very fond of the man in black and, despite some of her hesitancies concerning the sincerity of his apparent trustworthiness, her affections grew for him every passing day.
So often during the more peaceful moments of her days her would mind wander sheepishly over the memories of their times together, reflecting upon his reactions to her concerning various situations in the past. She frequently wondered over whether or not she gave off the right impression. He was so much braver and smarter than her, it was a wonder that he found any company in her at all.
The sound of V's boots, rising and fading as he walked by her door, slipped Evey out of her momentary reverie. She shook her head at her own silliness. No, no, he did not fancy her, not like that, anyways. Nothing in his everyday demeanor hinted at such a suggestion. She was a guest to him…only a guest, and one that he felt obligated to entertain on varying occasions such as this. It was simply a gesture of goodwill and that was all.
..and besides she should not be feeling such a tenderness towards his being anyways. He was a terrorist, for heaven's sake. A man who murdered others. Sure, he was doing it for a just cause, but murder was murder no matter how you looked at it. There was a side of him that he was not showing her. Somewhere beneath all of that charm and charisma, there was a killer, and a very deadly one at that. It was a that side of him that made her more than a little unsure about her wishes and intentions. How much of the man she saw daily was the truth? How much of him did he keep a secret?
She could not know, and would likely never find out. After the fifth their time together would be over, she would be released and it was probable that they would never see each other again.
She sighed heavily, frustrated with herself and her circumstances.
"You're being completely daft, Evey" she mumbled to herself. Why was she chasing after such a foolish longing? What had even led her to reach such a state in the first place? She was pining over a man who she knew almost nothing about. He had revealed no face, no age, no history…no anything, only his knowledge and his principles? Was she falling in love with a cluster of theories? A myriad of wisdom? A solitary idea?
No, she was not. There were things he often did that revealed the true man within, unconscious things, like when he waved his foot around when he found something amusing in a book or on the television, or when he would sniffle a lot after taking a shower, the humidity beneath the mask rising above it's normal levels and tickling his nose with little water droplets.
Tiny little things that made him human; things that, somehow, made him fallible.
Begin at
Your favorite place
The kitchen
She rose and strode out of her room and to that very place, checking cautiously for any signs of V as she did so. He was no where to be seen, or even heard. She did, however, spot another red slip of paper lying prone in the middle of the dining table. She went directly to it, picking it up to read:
Sweet delights
With golden liquid
dainty cups
Dainty cups? What was that supposed to mean? Sweet and golden? Perhaps it was tea, she thought, as she directed her hands to the cupboard, or tea cups. She hastily shuffled through it's contents, and when nothing came up she moved to perusing the various places about the kitchen where V stored his teabags. Atop the stove, along the counters, around the wall…nothing. She sighed disappointedly and eventually came to lean upon the refrigerator.
Not tea…she thought as she paused to ponder over a variety of other possibilities.
"Oh!" she exclaimed as realization dawned within her mind, and she jerked around to open the refrigerator door, "of course, the lemon tarts!"
She shuffled through a few items resting on the first shelf and, sure enough, a flash of red appeared, nestled beneath one of many miniature tarts resting upon a plate within. She had forgotten all about them! Slipping it out from beneath the tiny treat she pulled it up to her eyes and scanned the words, her breath warming the frigid air.
Films, news,
Here you watch
A screen
Well that was simple, she thought as she walked briskly to the television room, another place where they spent a lot of time together. She found her next clue placed rather obviously atop the coffee table.
Tall he stands
Proud against the world
Montego
"That's easy," she stated as she made her way to V's battle worn suit of armor, one she had caught him mock dueling with one night, not so long ago. She laughed at the memory, but her candor faded quickly as she remember how the rest of the night had gone. V had admitted to his murderous ways, an argument ensued, followed by a long period of awkward silence. Days that she spent hiding away in her room, learning to fear V and the situation that he had put her in.
He had eventually found a way to lure her out into the open again, and she not nearly as afraid of him anymore, but she still very much feared her predicament.
This time she found the small strip of paper hanging humorously out of the visor of the plated man's helmet, she plucked it out and read.
Weapons mantle walls
Deep within the labyrinth
A room of danger
She sighed heavily, as she turned in the direction of V's armory, a room he only let her enter when he was at home. How long was this going to take? And what was this "treat" he spoke of?
"This had better be worth it," she grumbled as she continued along her path, unaware of V's presence, watching her from behind, waiting for the perfect moment.
…
Nearly an hour went by as Evey continued on her journey, one that lead her deep into the gallery. Deeper than she had ever been, in some cases, to rooms she had never previously entered. Rooms full of all sorts of wondrous treasures. Toys, instruments, old appliances, all sorts of fascinating contraband. She made a mental note to ask him about some of the rooms once she finished her quest. Hopefully V would be waiting somewhere at the end of it. She thought that she saw him walk by, once, perhaps demonstrating a brief moment of impatience, or simply checking on how well she was coming along, but there was no way to be sure.
The slips of paper eventually led her in a circle, and it wasn't long before Evey found herself navigating back down the hallways from whence she came.
Now you must follow
The sound of delicate notes
A sweet melody
"V?" she called his name, the solitary word echoing off of the gallery's walls , penetrating the eerie silence.
As if on cue a sweet melody began to haunt the air in response, tickling her ears with it's presence. Not long after, a low, husky voice joined in, weaving in and out of the main line, at once both complimentary and contradictory.
"'And now the purple dusk of twilight time/ Steals across the meadows of my heart'"
Was that…was that his voice singing?
"'High up in the sky the little stars climb/ Always reminding me that were apart.'"
Evey followed the magnetic sound, exiting the room and padding her way silently along the dark hallway.
"'You wander down the lane and far away/ Leaving me a song that will not die.'"
She passed through a final door, and came from the kitchen into the gallery's center, everything was cast in darkness, all of the gallery's lights were off save for V's chandelier. The scene before her seemed to glow amidst the blackness.
"'Love is now the stardust of yesterday/ The music of the years gone by.'"
In front of her, V sat upon the piano bench, playing and singing the alluring music, his body swaying with the notes. A large red cloth was set atop the lid of the piano and upon it lay a lit candelabra and a silver covered dish.
"'Sometimes I wonder why I spend/ the lonely night dreaming of a song'"
She walked slowly towards the sight, as if to question its reality, and then stood silently in front of V, her eye's following the swa of his mask.
"Hello Evey," the mask looked up to her as he paused in his singing, although his hands continued playing the melody.
"What on earth is all of this?" she asked, gesturing to the scene about her.
"Oh, just a few festive tidbits" V began rather nonchalantly, "to celebrate this most unusual and superficial of holidays."
Her rosy lips curved into a nervous smile, and she padded over to the piano bench, coming to sit beside him. It was an act of familiarity and friendship that both were still growing accustomed too.
"Valentine's day," she stated, crossing her legs as she looked down to the sight of his gloved hands fluttering smoothly across the keyboard, striking the notes with learned perfection.
"Indeed," He affirmed, and then fell silent, save for the quiet intonations of light humming.
A few minutes passed by while neither said a word to each other, and then V paused and took one hand off of the keys while the other continued striking the appropriate notes. From seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a rather unusual rose. "For you, my dear," he spoke.
"Thank you," she reached for it tentatively, her fingers brushing softly against his glove as she closed her fingers around the stem and paused. The contact made her shiver and tense.
He fumbled over a note, and proceeded to clear his throat as he released the rose, returning his free hand to the keys to continue the song. His hands were shaking quite visibly, but Evey did not seem to notice.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking down as she felt her stomach dropping, "I didn't get anything for you. I didn't even know that it was…"
"Evey," he interrupted softly, "come now, you have given me something,"
"What's that?"
His voice went deep as he recited his next line, "'come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight.' I enjoy your company, Evey. More than I think you realize."
"You and your quotes," she teased, not really knowing how to take the flattery, and
V smiled warmly beneath the mask, "why don't you uncover that dish," he nodded towards the silver plate, "I've a feeling you'll enjoy what's underneath."
She rose from the bench and began to reach for the handle of the plate's cover, pausing just as she set her hand upon it. She cocked a brow at him coyly, "you're not going to play a trick on me are you?"
V chuckled lightly, "No, no. Although I admit, the temptation was there."
"Alright," she said skeptically, and then proceeded to lift the cover. "Oh!" She exclaimed, gazing down upon a variety of tiny sweet confectionaries, "chocolates! Real ones! God they're beautiful. Are they Sutler's too?"
"No, I took the liberty of making these ones myself."
"You made these?" she bit the bottom of her lip as her eyes glazed over them, her pupils widening with apparent hunger, then she looked at him beseechingly "can I have one?"
"Of course Evey," V chuckled again, amused by her antics, "they're yours for the pilfering."
"Are they different flavors?" She said as she bent her head down to smell the assorted sweets, her long autumn ringlets tenting around the plate and shielding it from his view.
"Yes." V answered, his voice low, and husky. He was bewitched by the sight before him.
She lifted her head back up to look at him, "Which one's which?"
"Why," V tilted his head dramatically, "It's a surprise, Evey. I can't give it away, 'twould ruin the fun."
She pouted, "How am I supposed to know which ones to eat first?"
"I imagine that you will have to suffer the trouble of trying them all, 'good Mistress Accost.'"
"Oh! You think you're funny, don't you?" She countered him bemusedly, then threw her arms in the air "Fine, then I'll just…close my eyes and pick one, if that's how you're going to be. "
V watched her do so, entranced once again by her unassuming demeanor. Her eyelids fluttered as they closed, shielding deep, honey colored irises and turning her world to darkness. He watched as she reached out to the dish, almost missing it as her hand landed on the furthest edge. She slid it to the side, and her fingers graced a small sugary rectangle, brown with pink stripes adorning it's crest.
She lifted the chocolate up to her nose, scenting it's delicate aroma. Her brows lifted, pleased with the fragrance. "Strawberry," she said aloud, and then popped the small confectionary into her mouth.
"Yes," V said, with a bit of a strained choke. His hands had long since ceased their efforts to continue the music, far to unstable and shaky to keep up with the task. Oh how she did torture him so.
"Mmm," she intoned, her shoulders dropping as her body melted to its flavor.
So captivated was he that his own voice box almost followed suit, his throat constricting with a tension that begged to be released. He stifled the urge though, and instead emitted a soft, nearly inaudible sigh.
Good heavens, what had he gotten himself into, he thought as his head dropped to gaze upon his trembling hands, hovering above the piano keys.
Music, he should continue with the music. It would help calm his rigid nerves, and would ease that growing pressure bubbling within his chest. He could not, however seem to summon up the will to even move one finger.
He remained like that for what seemed like several minutes, staring at his fingers, trying to quell the feeling rising within him…until the soft echo of his name began to tap at his consciousness.
"V?" Evey called to him the first time, after he had failed to respond to a question, he did not seem to hear her.
"V?" she repeated his name once more, and rested a hand upon her his taught shoulder.
He jerked, and his eyes flew up to meet hers. They were open now, those beautiful russet gems, his own form of chocolate. When had they opened? He noted that her face was painted with concern.
"Oh…" was all that he managed to say at first.
"Are you alright?" She queried, "is something wrong?"
"No, no," he responded awkwardly, "it's just…I seem to have misplaced my notes. Troublesome little things." It was a lie, yes, but one that he saw as necessary. "Ah…" he lowered his gloves and began to stroke the keys once more, "there they are. Yes, all is well now. I do apologize. Did you happen ask me something, while my mind was away?"
She shook her head, not quite knowing whether or not to believe him. He seemed so…distant, all of a sudden. Oh well, she shrugged, best not to worry over it. "What does it mean?" she repeated her question from earlier.
"Hmm, what does what mean?"
"The rose," she explained as she held the blossom up as she came to sit beside him once more, urging him to examine it's fine beauty, "I know they have meanings, but I've never seen one like this before. What is it supposed to say?"
"Ah, the lady doth wonder," he stated coyly, seeming to come back to himself, "the meaning, my dear/ of the fire tipped beauty/ only you can solve " the mask lowered then, an air of implication coloring his words.
Evey cocked a brow at him, and gave slightly bemused smile, "alright, keep your secrets then, I think I have an idea anyways."
"And what, may I ask, would that be?"
She paused to think a few minutes, and then gave him a rather mischievous look "nestled deep within/ like a seed friendship may grow/ into something more"
"Hmm," he rumbled, his head turned to look ahead of him, as if to ponder the weight of such a statement, "and this is what you think?"
"V…I," perhaps she should not have broached such a subject, "I think it's what I know."
He remained silent, staring into the vacant depths ahead, his fingers continuing their solemn dance along the ivory keys.
"Am I wrong?" She asked shyly, fingering the hem of the skirt that she wore.
No, he thought, but could not say it aloud. His silence continued, although his hands switched chords, melding their way into a different song. One that Evey recognized. It was "Cry Me a River," a song that seemed to be among his favorites, considering how often he played it.
Her anxious gaze fell down from the mask, pausing to linger on his gloves. She noticed then, that they were shaking. Was he angry with her? Or was it something else?
"V..." He felt the soft weight of her hand fall upon his forearm, and his fingers stopped moving all together "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. Please…just forget what I said, I didn't mean to make you upset. I can go back to cleaning out the boo…"
"..ks" Evey finished as she felt his hand alight upon hers, she lost her grip on the rose, and it tumbled softly to the ground. "Oh," was all she managed to get out after that.
"Oh indeed" he spoke gently as he grasped her hand he stood, urging her up from the bench. He bent low to grab the rose from the floor, and held it between them both as they faced each other in the dim light. "No Evey, you're not wrong"
The vigilante watched apprehensively as a tear streamed down her face, prompted by the intensity of the moment. His hand rose gently to bring the rose blossom to her cheek he tenderly chased the salty droplet away with it's petals.
Soft golden locks landed gracefully on his tunic as she bent to place her forehead upon his chest, her eyes were closed, her visage tinted with a hint of humility as she tried to quell her former embarrassment.
"It means exactly what you want it too," his voice was low as he pulled her into an embrace, "exactly what we want it too."
Quotes and credits:
The song lyrics are written by a man named Mitchell Parish for song titled "Stardust." I had the Nat King Cole version in mind when writing this.
"Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight." - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 2.6
'Good Mistress Accost' is a term from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (1.3). "Accost" means to woo or assail.
