Tea was a skill for the civilized.
Olivia noted, with much fascinated amusement, that Thalia was anything but civilized.
SLURP.
Thalia set her teacup back down on its saucer with a clack. Tea dripped down her chin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Across the table, Olivia not-at-all subtly licked her lips.
In the back of Thalia's head, Traft complained, "Why, in my day, every cathar knew how to conduct themselves for tea. It was considered absolutely necessary for-
Thalia pictured an old man walking to school in the snow on a mountain, uphill both ways.
With an indignant sniff, Traft shut up.
"My, my, dearest Thalia," Olivia drawled, "You're so…" She trailed off, letting her eyes close slighting and pulling her mouth into a smirk, "Sanguine."
Thalia flushed. Olivia closed her eyes inhaled deeply, an expression of purest contentment smoothing her face.
Was that a cue? Thalia picked her tea back up and took a giant sniff. It smelled a lot like grass. Because that's what tea was. Grass-water.
Traft's nagging voice returned, "Did they teach you nothing at the Elguad Grounds? Snorting tea – why I never."
Thalia attempted to glare at Traft. She ended up crossing her eyes. Was that blood on her nose or a new freckle? Innistrad had been even more overcast than usual of late. Maybe she should have used more suncream.
Across the table, it occurred to Olivia to ask herself what exactly she saw in Thalia. Thalia's crossed eyed stare drew Olivia's attention to Thalia's slim nose, flecked with blood and, oh, yes, that was it. Olivia saw blood in Thalia. Delicious blood. Even if the packaging was a little bit… queer.
Thalia cleared her throat. Had her men had enough time to escape? She'd bargained for safe passage, but Olivia was known for being as capricious as she was powerful. The vampires she'd brought with her were standing around the clearing awkwardly doing nothing, but that wasn't terribly reassuring. Some might have slipped away to chase the other cathars. Thalia needed to buy as much time as she could should the Voldaren progenitor change her mind.
Thalia cleared her throat again. "The weather… is… lovely?" she tried.
Olivia made a sort of humming sound and leaned forward a bit. "A beautiful day," she said. "I think it suits you."
Olivia was wearing a very low cut dress.
Very, very low cut.
Thalia gulped. Olivia should really talk to her dressmaker. Surely the Lady of Lurenbraum could afford a few extra yards of silk. Yes. Surely. "I like the weather too," Thalia squeaked, eyes locked on Olivia's very low cut dress.
"What are you doing?" demanded Traft. "Her face is up there!"
Thalia snapped her head up, accidently meeting Olivia's eyes in the process. The ancient vampire quite resembled a smug cat. "I'm so glad we could finally have tea," Olivia said.
"Yes," Thalia said. "Yes. I'm glad too. Very glad."
"Compliment her," Traft thundered in Thalia's head.
"You look… good?" Thalia said.
"You're hopeless," Traft announced.
Olivia leaned back, rearranging herself. Once again, Thalia was confronted with Olivia's very low cut dress. "Thank you for noticing," Olivia purred. "I got dressed just for you, you know."
"Stop staring," Traft lectured. "Women prefer when you play hard to get."
"Excuse you?" Thalia exclaimed.
For once looking genuinely startled, Olivia blinked. "Excuse me?"
Thalia fishmouthed, then raised a finger. "Sorry, I need to talk to Traft for a moment."
Ah, yes, of course. The geist. Olivia waived a generous hand. "Take your time," she said. "I'm not getting any older."
"What are you doing?" Thalia mentally demanded.
"I'm helping," Traft said primly.
"Stop helping," Thalia thought firmly.
"You need all the help you can get. You are a carriage wreck of the first class," Traft replied. "You look… good?" he parroted. "Please. It's a wonder you're still single."
"You're just as single as I am," Thalia thought.
"What nonsense," was Traft's answer. "I have you."
Across the table, Olivia sipped her tea and watched Thalia's face as she went cross-eyed, then un-crossed her eyes, then scrunched up her face in what was most likely utter consternation, then transitioned to some slack-jawed emotion that might have been either disbelief or betrayal.
What fun mortals were!
Meanwhile, in the depths of Thalia's head, the conversation continued to rage.
"I'll have you know I was very popular with women when I was your age," Traft informed Thalia. "Now be a good girl and tell the pretty vampire you like her dress."
"I don't like her dress!" Thalia protested. "And she's not pretty. She's evil. Pretty evil."
"Yes you do," Traft said. "And yes she is."
"It's a terrible and impractical dress!" Thalia said. "There are pieces missing! She must get cold!"
"I live in your head," Traft pointed out.
Defeated, Thalia managed to get her face back to something resembling a normal human expression as she turned to Olivia. "I like your dress," she said.
"It suits you," Traft prompted.
"It suits you," Thalia repeated woodenly. Attempting to strike out on her own, she added, "I like the… poofy… on the collar… the collar poof."
"Adorable," Olivia remarked.
"Utterly hopeless," Traft said.
"You know," Olivia said, "This dress was made for me – of course I look gorgeous in it. But I think I look even better wi-
Thalia stood violently, knocking her chair to the ground. "It's late!" she said. "Very late. I should go. Don't message me, I'll message you."
Taken utterly by surprise – she'd thought tea had been going quite well – Olivia watched as Thalia snatched up a fallen sword from the ground and then sprinted out of the clearing, in what was very clearly the wrong direction to be getting home.
