You know, one thing that steams my broccoli is the disappointing amount of Daud/OC Female fics and Martin/OC Female fics (Martin/Callista fics too are in a desperate short supply). I'm here to remedy that for you guys. This is None Like Her, a fic between Daud and my OC, Venetica.
Reviews are muchly appreciated and are greeted with warm, fresh baked cookies. Flames, however, are picked apart and brutally sacrificed at the beginning of each author's note the following chapter. Constructive Criticism (which is markedly different than Flames) are greeted not only with cookies, but puppies, as well. Flamers, you have been warned.
Summary: Venetica Galvani, the daughter of renowned vivisectionist Dr. Gregoir Galvani, is a close confident and a good friend to the Empress Jessamine. After accepting a proposal put forth by the Empress and her Lord Protector, Venetica finds herself lost in a world that she suddenly doesn't recognize. When Fate brings her and the Knife of Dunwall together in an awkward first meeting that quickly escalates from there, can Venetica find the one thing with Daud that she could never find before? Or will she be doomed to stay lost forever?
Disclaimer: I do not own Dishonored or any characters created by Arkane Studios and Bethesda. The only person I own, is Venetica, and any unknown characters later on that do not immediately show up in the Dishonored Wikia.
- Nagiana
"When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right," we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." and we lie: "I'll never leave you." And for just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad."
― Neil Gaiman, Neil Gaiman's Midnight Days
"Well, look who I ran into!" crowed Coincidence.
"Please," flirted Fate, "This was meant to be."
At first, Venetica didn't know if the Empress was joking or not, when she first heard her proposal. But as she awkwardly stood there and watched the expressionless look appear on the Empress Jessamine Kaldwin's face, as well as on that of the Lord Protector Corvo Attano, she realized that she hadn't been joking. Quite the contrary, she was being frighteningly serious.
"So what say you, Lady Venetica?"
Venetica jumped at the sound of the Empress' voice, and it was then that she reluctantly turned her eyes onto her. She shook her head in bewilderment. "My Lady, forgive me, but this . . . this is a matter that cannot be taken lightly! It cannot be decided on in just a few moment's thought!"
The Empress smiled kindly and nodded. She stepped towards her, her hands clasped in front of her stomach. When she reached her, her hands outstretched towards her and reflexively, Venetica took them. That same kind smile remained on Jessamine's face as she held her hands tightly but not in a mean way. If it was possible, there was also a . . . gentleness to how the Empress was holding her hands.
"And I understand that well, Lady Venetica. And it is only with the utmost respect and affection that I come to you with this proposal. You are one of my most trusted ladies, and – I hope, anyways – one of my dearest friends." Venetica could only nod meekly in return.
"And . . . and I think the same of you, my Lady. But a-a marriage, it is . . . while I am flattered to have been thought of, nevertheless, it is still something that cannot be decided on lightly! I must converse with my father – garner his opinion – then weigh it against my own. Please, I beg of you – give me a little more time!"
Jessamine pursed her lips and released her hands, only for them to clasp in front of stomach again. She turned a pointed gaze onto Corvo, who was standing silently behind her, his strong arms crossed in front of his chest. At her look, he stepped forward and gave her a small smile. "Do what you must, Lady Venetica, but know that I would gladly and graciously take you as my wife. There is no women in the court who is as beautiful as you . . ."
She knew the honeyed words dripping from his lips, was a lie. There was indeed a woman in the court prettier than she was, and that was the woman standing in front of her. It was the woman he loved above all others – the woman who she would never be able to compete with and the woman who would cause him to forsake their marriage bed – not out of cruelty, but because that was where his heart would long for him to be. This wasn't a marriage made for love – it was one of necessity. It was one made to quash the quickly growing rumors in the court – rumors that the Princess Emily was really Corvo Attano's. This was a marriage made out of necessity, before people discovered the rumors were true and that the mysterious, handsome Morley diplomat that had visited Dunwall that one hot, balmy summer five years ago, was not Princess Emily's true father.
A tight smile appeared on her face and she allowed him to brush his lips across the back of her hand, that same charming smile on his face. She would indeed return home and talk to her father about the proposal put in front of her by the Empress – it would only be what was expected of her. Even so, she knew it would be a futile gesture. She knew immediately when she heard the proposal and its explanation fall from her lips, what Venetica would say. She would agree to her proposal, not because she felt like she owed the Empress something (even though she owed her more than she could possibly give her) or even because she had long harbored an unrequited crush on the handsome Serkonan Lord Protector. No, she would agree to the Empress' proposal for one simple, frustrating reason:
She was too much of a coward to tell her no.
Her mother had not once called her a coward. Her mother had many clichés that she would use to describe her daughter and only child. As pretty as a beautiful spring morning, as sweet as sugar . . . eventually those clichés would dissolve into simple adjectives: intelligent, compassionate, kind . . . but not once did her mother loop those words in with 'coward'.
'Coward' had been a term that Venetica had penned for herself. Her mother had been a strong woman – strong and hardy until she succumbed to a disease Sokolov told them was 'cancer' – a disease that Academy physicians did not have much treatment for and certainly not a cure. It had been cancer of the uterus, brought about by the hard birth that had given her Venetica and then the subsequent sterility. Once she had it, it felled her quickly. Much too quickly.
Isabel Galvani had to have been strong in order to have worked as a lady to the Empress Beatrix, the Empress Jessamine's mother, for as long as she had. It was that same strength and iron will, that had endeared her to the Empress so, until she succeeded in reaching the same status that Venetica had reached with the Empress' daughter: a confident and good friend. She had been strong enough to survive a shaky change in regime when the Emperor Euhorn succeeded to the throne on the assassinated coattails of the previous Empress Larisa. She had been strong enough to survive the ruination of her family when she married Venetica's father, Gregoir Galvani, a doctor man drastically below her station and who she had married for love – entirely unheard of at the time. Her family had been saved by the good graces of the Empress Beatrix, leaving the woman very much in her debt.
She had to have been strong enough to survive the hard childbirth that given her Venetica but which took away her ability to have any more children.
She had survived all those years and all those events, only to be felled by a disease.
When faced with that, how could Venetica not call herself a coward? Or maybe . . . maybe 'coward' was the wrong word. Maybe it was as simple as her and Jessamine being two completely different people who had somehow managed to build a loving, friendly relationship. And while growing up beside Jessamine, the differences between the two girls had been even more apparent. While Jessamine was quick to grab her father's pistol and allow him to teach her how to shoot, Venetica was more interested in learning the fine points of needlepoint from her mother and the Empress Beatrix. While Jessamine had no problems leaping from stone wall to stone wall, or from any high surface, laughing as she went, Venetica was more content to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground unless she was galloping across the meadows of Gristol on the back of a horse. The only times the two girls shared something in common, was when they were met with confrontation. When that happened, both girls would become the two most headstrong, stubborn girls the whole of Gristol had never seen before.
So yes, maybe 'coward' was the wrong term. In this instance, however, it was particularly apt, she thought. She was too cowardly to turn down the Empress' proposal because she was afraid of offending her. Rarely, has she and the Empress ever fought, but when they did, the enmity between them had a tendency to last for months. She didn't want to risk that – not now, not really ever again. So yes, she would accept the proposal despite the advice of her father. She just hoped she wouldn't rue the decision.
It was this very same reason – her desire to be submissive instead of dominating and to take the easy path instead of the hard one – that constantly made her wonder why Daud had found her attractive enough to garner his attentions. And while he had certainly been the cause of her finally growing a thicker backbone, it had taken months for even the foundations of that new backbone to grow. Why had Daud stuck around for that long?
What had the man seen in her?
She sat on the leather bench in the warm cable car, hands wrapped up in the furry muff that lay on her lap. It was winter at that time of year – wet and cold and slushy and overall miserable. Thin, brittle sheets of ice had formed on top of the Wrenhaven, giving the river an icy, foreboding appearance. It was at these times during the year, that she loathed not having an apartment in the palace. And while Jessamine had offered her many times to give her one, it was one of those rare situations where she had always turned her down. She loved where she lived already – the Galvani manor on John Clavering Boulevard with its big, warm rooms and walls covered with expensive paintings and taxidermied animals from far away. She loved coming home and walking into her father's cluttered lab, only to see the tall, lanky man with slicked back white hair, bending over the corpse of a dissected rat, eye rapt and pen scribbling furious notes in his journal. When he would catch sight of her, a grin would immediately spread across his face. He would push himself off of the table he would be hunched over, only to hold out his arms to her and say, "Welcome home, pup!" before bringing her into a tight hug.
Years later, they left Dunwall for the fertile, warm lands of Morley – the both of them bone tired of all the rats and the plague and the violence. After they left with their relationship cemented enough for her to begin to feel comfortable in the stability of it, Venetica would often wonder what her father would think of her relationship with Daud. They had left before she could ask him . . . ask him what he thought of the tall, muscular man who she shared a vineyard with and two children with, but not a last name. The question plagued her always.
Eventually, the rail car came to a smooth halt, dragging her from the thoughts she had been submerged in since her meeting with the Empress and Lord Protector. The door slid open with a fluidity that suggested being well-oiled, and a gust of cold wind. She shivered as she stepped down from the car into the frigid Dunwall air. Briskly, she set off down the street for the Galvani manor, pulling her fur coat closer around her to ward off the biting chill. She heard the footsteps of her silent guard behind her and didn't stop. She didn't when a group of laughing children spilled around them, nor when a group of Overseers marched past them with a cuffed woman walking in-between the first two. She kept up the same pace to the manor's front door and when she reached it, she gave a smile to the guard and dismissed him. He returned her smile and inclined his head to her before taking his leave of her to return to the palace.
She quickly entered the manor, giving a sigh of relief when the cold sunk from her bones, only to be replaced with the heat from the large fireplace on the second floor that performed the job of heating the whole manor. Moving past the glass display cases in the front hall, she climbed the stairs to the second. After placing her coat and muff in her room, she then climbed the stairs to the third, where her father was most likely working away in his laboratory.
That was exactly where she found him. Knocking gently on the glass door, he looked up, saw her, and grinned. Motioning her inside, she entered and closed the door behind her as he made his way over to her, arms outstretched. "Welcome home, pup!" He spoke and she gave him a small smile as she allowed her father to wrap her up in a tight embrace. She stood there, reveling in it and feeling like a little girl for the first time in years. Oh, how much she wished she could hide behind her father's legs like she used to – have him fight her battles for her. But he couldn't andshe couldn't. The most she could ask of him nowadays was for his advice, which what she was going to do at that moment.
"Can I ask for your advice, father?" She asked, and he nodded as they broke apart.
"Of course. Here, have a seat." He motioned to the chair sitting across from him and the dissected rat sitting in front of him, and she obliged him. After moving the stainless steel dissecting tray out of the way, he took a seat too and gave her his full attention. His chin was propped in his palm on the table. She took a deep breath to calm herself before launching into the proposal Jessamine had put forth to her that day and when she was done, Dr. Galvani's eyebrows were threatening to disappear up into his hairline.
"Well now! That is quite the proposal, pup!" She nodded, looking apprehensive.
"What should I do?"
Dr. Galvani sat there for a moment, thinking. When he was done, he heaved a sigh, as well as I shrug. "I don't know," He began slowly. "That is up to you. Your mother and I, we married for love, not for . . . status or-or wealth. I was just a lowly doctor when we married and attained the prestige I have now based on the love the Empress Beatrix had for your mother. That and the rather long history I had with Vera Moray, set me apart. So really, I cannot tell you what to do because Isabel and I were never in that situation. It'd be different if you loved Corvo. Do you love Corvo, Venetica?"
Venetica released a bark of laughter that told him all he needed to know. "Love him? How can I love him, father, when I barely even know him? He hasn't said more than three words to me since Jessamine and I would twelve!"
Dr. Galvani adopted an amused tint to his eyes then. "Then why in the void, are you contemplating marrying a man you don't love? What happens when you find the man you're destined to fall head over heels in love with? What then? You can't marry him so you'll be forced to turn him down. Why make yourself do that."
Venetica adopted an 'are-you-serious?' look on her face. "I'm contemplating this because Jessamine needs me to, father -!"
Dr. Galvani let out a snort of laughter. "Jessamine needs you to, eh? No she doesn't. She's just discovered that rumors can be quite the pain in the hindquarters – rumors that she gave the fodder to, to start with!" He waved his hand through the air. "Jessamine made her bed, pup. Let her lie in it in peace. Take my advice and you save yourself for the man you love. He'll come along eventually."