(A/N) I know, the first part is boring. I assure you that it'll get better. I would hate to just start as "Then Reaver snaked his arm around her and planted a kiss on her soft lips" Or something like that. That's just clichéd. But still, the beginning is hardly good storytelling, but it'll change. I hope anyway.
I've acquired a beta, her name I Kelsey, and she's my best friend in reality. To those who wish to spam her with love, she's the third reviewer. Also, this chapter took a longgg time to write because I was continuously distracted by various things. Total of 6 hours spend doing it. Probably 2 after you subtract all the things I've been doing when I was trying to do this.
This is Home Now...
Sparrow walked through the dim town; her boots were sticking to the wet, sandy road that ran through the midst of the town. She could see the town square up ahead, where a few stalls stood abandoned because of the morning's rain. A large stone sundial was the centerpiece of the square. It only added to the misery of the grey little village, considering all the buildings were grey or black stone, and the rain clouds seemed to suck the life out of any color brave enough to show itself. They even seemed to pull the color from the few faces she saw through windows as she walked down the street. These pale faced citizens were watching the foreign woman walk through their town. Reaver was just ahead of her.
He'd already set his sights on the largest building in town. He had to establish himself as the newest dictator by having the most expensive luxuries, the most beautiful ladies, and the best parties. He was Reaver after all. He measured himself as the most divine creature on the planet. When he looked over his shoulder to see the young Sparrow following behind him, looking lost, his signature smirk crossed his lips and he said:
"You look like a scared kitten. It's a wonder how you managed to defeat Lucien, of all people."
She looked up, acknowledging he said something, but refused to give him the satisfaction of a clever comeback. Instead, she turned right onto the next street she saw. Reaver still felt like he'd won this mental challenge and continued his conceited strut towards his chosen castle. As he approached it, he was glad to see a "For Sale" sign posted by the door. This meant he wouldn't have to filthy up his new home's floor with some bloody peasant corpses. He picked up the flimsy clipboard and looked at it. Two hundred forty thousand gold. That wasn't too bad, he thought. He flipped through the papers, looking for a name to which he had to pay the money, or in his case, a head at which to aim his pistol in an attempt at a free home.
Elsewhere, Garth was walking down the street, hardly thinking of anything other than the recent encounter and how the Old Kingdom magic could create something likening the Spire. How could something so great grant such a silly wish as 'Wealth', was it capable of more, and what did Theresa want a seemingly useless tower for? She had said only one wish could be granted, or was there something far more sinister about to happen? His head swarmed with many more questions with the same dreary tone. He knew the streets well enough so that he wouldn't be lost when he awoke from his dazed state. When he finally did, he found himself in the tavern. No one was there; it was too early for the usual customers to be up, or better yet, too late for them to be out. The bartender looked at Garth with a bit of interest. He looked familiar, but he definitely wasn't a local.
"Can I get you a drink, sir?" asked the bartender, straightening up his back and busying himself by cleaning a glass with a dingy rag.
"No thanks. I'm just looking around town," Garth replied. He paused a moment, those thoughts still in his mind. "On second thought, just one will be fine," he said, slowly making the way over to the bar.
Later in the day, after the cool morning turned into a warm, Autumn afternoon and Sparrow had chosen her home, people began to emerge from their homes. The town had at last come to life after the threat of rain had passed, and the sun welcomed them with a radiant glow. Sparrow had just paid the appointed person the money for the house, a woman who greedily grabbed the coins from her. She nearly forgot to give Sparrow the deed before sneaking back into the dark depths of her home to count out her new fortune. Sparrow walked out into the sunshine, trying not to think too deeply on the woman's situation.
She saw men and women in fancy clothing walking down the streets. Each was the perfect representation of their sex. Most of the women had pale, smooth faces with rose-colored lips, and beautiful blonde curls. Their eyes glowed with youth and enthusiasm. Sparrow instantly felt a pang in her heart. She rarely had low self-esteem, normally too busy for such nonsense, but now she was in a land of beautiful, dignified people. She sighed in anguish. Maybe leaving her fame back in Albion wasn't the best idea: she was nobody here. The men were still no match for Reaver's charm, as she was sure he'd already noticed. They were tall and muscular but not so much as to be a visual oddity. They were well groomed, and each sported dignified beards of various sorts to match their face shapes. It was like each and every person had gone to a high class beauty and fashion school.
She shook the thoughts from her head; this wasn't what she was here for. She shoved the deed deep into her pocket, and walked discreetly past the human gods. "Did you hear about that house warming party tonight?" she heard from more than one person as she scurried by the crowds. Clearly, Reaver was already making his mark, and by luck, she ran into her ally exiting the furniture store. He waltzed over to her with a grin on his face, grabbed her round the waist, and pulled her against his body. She felt her face grow warm, not being used to this kind of physical contact. "Everything's going perfectly. I've only had to kill one poor bastard today!" He smiled and pointed with his free hand at a group of men exiting the furniture store carrying elegantly decorated furniture.
"Err…that's nice," Sparrow replied as she wiggled away from the man's grasp.
"You'll be coming, won't you?" He asked, not turning away from the muscled men carrying the pieces of furniture down the street. His cocked his eyebrow, awaiting an answer.
"To what?" she asked innocently, playing stupid for a moment. She didn't want to seem desperate to accept the invitation.
"My house warming party; half the village knows about it already. All the beautiful women will be there, along with champagne to keep them talking and, more importantly, to get them in my bedroom tonight." He chuckled and glanced in her direction. "Oh, and I'm sure a few men will do the same for you too." He added, dully, to keep her interested in the idea.
"When is this party of yours?" she asked simply. She really didn't know if she'd even attend now after learning Reaver's intentions, but she really should have known that anyway.
"In about three hours or so…" he said, looking up at the sun to get an idea of the time.
Sparrow blinked in disbelief. "You can't possibly redecorate and organize a party in such short time. "
"Ahh, but I can. I've done it hundreds of times before, and I can do it again." He bragged with his head held high. "I expect you there. And wear something...flattering," he said, looking at her garments in disdain. She wore a Highway Man coat, a pauper shirt, hot pants, and bandit boots, all of which had been hurriedly died black and looked absolutely horrid.
"Ciao." He waved lazily as he strolled away, following the last of the men leaving the furniture store.
She waved weakly before looking down at her clothes with misery. She wasn't fashion forward at all. She simply dressed for comfort. She mumbled to herself and walked to her new home with her eyes pointed downward. It was slightly larger than the average house with three bedrooms, a nice living room, and a kitchen. It had just a few furnishing that were included with the house, and she didn't plan on shopping for new furniture anytime in the near future. Most of the furniture was average at the least, so the matter wasn't pressing. She stepped inside her property and made her way up the creaky stairs to the bedroom she had chosen as her own during the earlier inspection the house. She opened the door to reveal an elaborately furnished room that put the rest of the home to shame. Everything was purple and gold. It looked like a king's bedroom to her.
She opened the empty, oak chest at the foot of her large bed. At the bottom, she placed her weaponry and coin purse after taking out a handful of coins. She locked it and stuffed the key under her pillow. It was a good enough hiding place for now. This seemed to be a fairly peaceful town, so hopefully she wouldn't be robbed so soon. She hid her deed under a loose floorboard she'd found earlier. The new house-owner quickly left after that and locked the door behind her. Her first actual house and she wasn't as excited about it as most other new homeowners claimed to be.
Now to the female tailors shop. She mentally slapped herself for being dragged into this. She was thankful that it was on the square and one didn't have to go through an hour of wandering around in search. She walked into the shop nervously and was instantly noticed by the young, brunette tailor. The woman gracefully made her way towards Sparrow with a warm smile on her face.
"Is there anything you're looking for?" she asked in a cheerful tone.
"Umm. Well. I'm going to a party tonight, and…I suppose I'll need a…dress? Or something that looks nice, at least," Sparrow answered nervously, fidgeting as she looked around at the beautifully dressed mannequins.
"Anything more specific?" she asked in the same cheerful voice.
"Err…not really. It should be 'flattering,'" She informed the woman, quoting Reaver's previous suggestion.
"I think I have the perfect thing for you, then." Enthusiastically, she pulled Sparrow towards the dressing rooms, "stand there. I'll get everything ready," she said before hurrying off. Sparrow watched as the brunette woman hurried around the store, picking up random articles of clothing and occasionally casting a glance at Sparrow to check the sizing. She was glad that she saw some darker colors mixed in with the dress choices the tailor was making. She really preferred darker colors. After a few minutes, the woman walked back over and pushed her into a dressing room. She instructed Sparrow to undress and put on what clothes she knew she could.
Sparrow stripped down to her underwear and looked at the pile of clothes before her. Was all of this supposed to go into one outfit? She called the woman in to help her. The woman shook her head in disapproval and began to help her. Sparrow pulled on the undergarments as they were handed to her. The tailor helped her tie up the girdle, and she made sure she pulled the device as tight as it would go. A light groan escaped her lips as the torture device was being tied. The tailor helped assemble the rest of the dress. It was a silky, emerald fabric, full of glorious folds, lacey hems and loopy ties. It left her shoulders bare, and the sleeves hung loosely around her biceps. The only flaw was that the outfit couldn't hide the will lines streaking her lightly tanned skin.
The woman studied her before hurrying out of the dressing room, and in a moment, she was back with simple hoop earrings and a pair of heels to match the dress. She looked satisfied when she asked if Sparrow would like to look at herself in the mirror. Sparrow eagerly walked outside of the dressing room, hoping the torment was worth it. She was indeed pleased when she saw herself at last. The dress seemed to add extra shape to her body that she didn't know was there. Maybe it was just the 'torture device'.
"Do you want it or should we try again?" the tailor asked, ready to please.
"No, no. No. This is perfect." She paused before curiously asking, "Can I purchase the dress without taking it off? It'd be awfully hard to undress myself only to have to put it on all over again when I get home."
"Sure. Come with me," the tailor said as she walked to the register. She quickly added up the total for her. Luckily, Sparrow had no problem paying for the very large sum. She had grabbed a hefty handful before she had left her new house. "Now, about your hair… my friend, the Hair Stylist, would be able to fix it up for you. She's only a few stores down." Sparrow thought about the tailor's slightly rude suggestion before deciding not to act against it.
"Thank you," she said with a false smile, grabbed her things, and walked out the door of the shop. She looked down the street, and just as the tailor had indicated, a stylist sign hung just above a door only three stores over. Seeing how she'd paid so much for the dress already, Sparrow decided to go ahead with getting her hair styled. She walked down the street with much effort. The dress felt heavy, and the girdle made breathing difficult, but she managed to make it to the hair stylist. She looked like a kind, older woman with streaks of grey running through her black hair. The peasant clothes worn by the woman offered no shape to her figure, but she seemed unbothered by the fact. She smiled up at Sparrow as she walked into the door.
"The Tailor told me I should come here…" she said slowly, unsure of how to address her.
"What would you like?" The woman spoke with a soft voice as she gestured towards a stylist chair.
"Anything that you think would look nice. If you cut it, though, please don't cut it too short? I like to pin my hair up often," she answered as she made her way to the chair. She carefully sat down, finding slight difficulty in the task with the dress on. When she sat herself, she pulled her mouse colored hair out of its ponytail. The wavy hair fell to about the middle of her back. The woman looked over her before trimming the ends and taking her time to curl the soft hair. She applied a deep, red lipstick to Sparrow's lips and dark shadow to her eyes. All this care made Sparrow feel awkward. Never before had she'd gone through such lengths to make an appearance. It was nearly time for the party to start by the time she finished preparing herself. She saw a few people walking towards Reaver's new mansion in the dying sunlight. She'd take her time getting there: she didn't want to be one of the first arrivals, for she wanted to blend in with the other's that would be there.
(A/N) Next chapter will be of the party, of course. I won't spoil too much, so I'll leave it at that. I'll try to get this next chapter in as soon as I can. I am going to start work on my senior project soon, and I also have Theater to do, so I'm sure the quick updates won't last to much longer. I'll do my best though.
