Interim:
Thoughts
Well, this was an interesting turn of events.
Lucius Drake was—if anything—fond of the paradoxical things in life. When the world expected him to be sane, he indulged in madness. When it dismissed him as a thoughtless raving lunatic, he displayed his most coldly calculating side. If he was told that one way was up, he simply smiled and said that it wasn't up at all; it was down. Irony was what he tended to value in living.
And this new conundrum was unquestionably ironic.
Though he didn't find it quite amusing.
When his ship's computers had intercepted a data stream from the small, rural planet of Llyria to the more urbanized Tyrellia—famed for its long-standing connection to the imperial royalty—he had been curious because a certain name had appeared on the list of Tyrellian principals.
Aidan Lysander.
He hadn't seen his cousin in years, although he'd been well aware of Aidan's doings since their exeunt from one another's lives. It had been no surprise to Lucius, that Aidan had followed his father—Tristan—into imperial service. The name-change wasn't a shock, either. The Drakes were too well known.
And their reputation was not a good one.
Still…it wasn't the fact that Aidan was involved with the Tyrellian-Llyrian negotiations that had intrigued Lucius' shrewd mind.
It was the fact that the Tyrellians and the Llyrians were negotiating something that had interested him.
Llyria was a small planet, located at the fringe of the Outer Rim: almost within the boundaries of the Mid Rim, but not quite. It was a quiet world, run mostly by a handful of wealthy overlords who had grown prosperous in the planet's numerous sea-based industries. There were no governors, no royalty—though the lords themselves were literally wealthy enough to be considered as ranking levelly with the families of most kings and queens.
But Tyrellia had contacted Llyria.
Not the other way around.
Why?
Suddenly growing restless with the absolute silence in his personal quarters—the only place aboard the Raven Star that was expressly off-limits to the wraith-pirates who made up his crew—Lucius rocketed to his feet in a swirl of thick black material. He didn't like being bombarded with questions for which he had no answer. And when Lucius didn't happen to like something, he made certain that that dislikeable something changed into a likeable something very quickly.
Pulling at the enormous silver brooch that served as the clasp of his outermost robe—a weighty piece of work made entirely out of black velvet, which was a nice touch as far as villainous apparel went, but not much in the way of comfortableness—he unclasped it from his neck and shrugged it off his shoulders. The robe dropped heavily and rather unceremoniously to the floor, abandoned on the metal surface in a hapless pile. He would pick it up later. His old deportment teachers—all the sanctimonious old lady-professors from the Academy, so many years ago—would have shrieked with displeasure at such careless behavior from their former pupil.
But their voices were a blur to him now.
And the past was not something that he currently desired to recall.
Two quick strides had him across the room, at the large view-port window that was the chamber's crowning glory: a spiraling, spider-web-like network of iron frames and thick crystal glass that was so transparent, so spotless, that a casual observer might be tempted to think that there was no glass present. He had turned the lights in the room down so low that only the faintest, murkiest glow filled the air—most of the illumination on the floor came from the leviathan of a moon that the Raven Star was passing by. The silvery light was sharp and cold, outlining everything with a razor-sharp quality.
Here, everything was black and white.
Lucius drew up his right arm, and rested it against the window frame, leaning his forehead against the crook of elbow as he stared listlessly out at the stars. To say he felt absolutely nothing at all, at that moment? That would have been a lie. He felt something. He felt everything. He just couldn't put a finger on what 'everything' was.
Bloody underworlds…
He let out a deep, gusting sigh: feeling a pang of keen, almost childish displeasure and impatience strike through him. Things always went his way. He'd made certain of that for years now—for longer than he liked to remember, in fact. He made things work to the best of his interests always, because he could. That was what having power meant.
But he couldn't find the answers.
The girl…
Who was the girl?
Aidan had spoken truly when he'd told his cousin about her origins; Lucius knew him well enough to know when he was lying, and when he wasn't. He hadn't been lying that time. She was a princess—a Llyrian princess, at that—and she hailed from the House of von Rothbart.
Such a strange name. Surely, it had to be an old family that she belonged to. That surname fairly reeked of archaic bloodlines—
And magic.
The wheels in his mind began to turn more furiously than ever. He had heard that name—von Rothbart—before, though he couldn't remember when. It had been long ago, in a much different place. Memories, flashes of faces and deeply-etched bits of information began to flit by his mind's eye, as if waiting for him—daring him—to catch one for his own intense perusal.
He knew that name.
The girl had been enchanted. She was going to Corensar, the capital city of Tyrellia: the royal city…someone had put a spell on her, to prevent her from leaving her chambers on board the royal vessel…
Her face. Her form. The magic swirling about her.
Fates.
He knew her.
"You've never seen her before in your life, you dolt…" he seethed, pushing himself away from the window with sharp and almost violent abruptness.
Across the immaculate metal tiles on the floor he paced: booted heels clicking angrily. Step, step, step—pivot, resume. Step, step, step—pivot, resume. Again and again and again. Step, step, step—
He had seen her before.
But perhaps it hadn't been her.
Perhaps someone else…yes, that was it. Perhaps…perhaps it was someone that he had known very well, years ago…someone who had been very dear to his heart…when he had had it…perhaps it was…
He remembered the lustrous, dark curls of her hair, fanning out around her recumbent form: brushing ever so lightly over her delicate shoulders and neck. He remembered the marble-like pallor of her skin, the cupid's bow of her lips; the feathery delicacy of her long black lashes as they lay closed, veiling her eyes from him. He remembered the scent of roses around her, as she lay trapped within her enchanted dream.
And then, before his mind's eye, her eyes suddenly flashed into being.
They were huge eyes: widened with both fear and wonder. If he had looked close enough, Lucius knew that he could have seen her every dream. He could have fallen into the pools of effervescent life that were her eyes. They were blue—more intense in shade than any sapphire, more vibrant than the summer sky after a storm. They were green—deeper and more luscious than the most verdant mountain woodland in spring. Amethyst, gold, jet, pearl—all were within her eyes. Life. Dreams. Fire. Wonder.
He closed his own eyes, and inhaled raggedly.
Oh yes, he knew her now.
Shaking his head, he put one hand out to the wall: steadying himself as a wave of emotion—which he had thought long-buried and long-forgotten—crashed over him. He could scarcely believe it; but there the truth was, immediately in front of him. He had stumbled across it in the midst of its sorcery-bound sleep. There it was.
"Allesandra…"
His old friend's daughter…
"Of course she is…"
Head snapping up, Lucius stared into the darkness of his captain's chambers with eyes that burned with a newly enthused, white-blue fire. A wicked smile curved his lips.
What an interesting thought!
And, quickly, he left his mind's lonely, convoluted meanderings to release his newest, most brilliant plot upon his unsuspecting pirate crew.
Oh, this will be fun…
A/N: So, just a quick recap of events here, just in case we've lost some of you...
Aidan Lysander is the royal diplomat in charge of escorting the Princess Odette to her arranged marriage on the planet Tyrellia. Odette has been enchanted so that she's in a kind of drugged sleep during the journey. Lucius found out that Aidan--his cousin whom he hasn't spoken to in quite a long time because ofa previous falling-out between the two--was out and abroad, and decided to drop in and see what his cousin was up to.
Then Lucius found the room where Odette was, and got interested in her because she was so beautiful, because he felt like she was somehow familiar to him, and because she wasunder a powerful spell(in a galaxy where magic-users are considered rogues and outcasts). Unnerved by this, he goes off to think things through, and realizes that he does recognize her--she's the daughter of an old, old friend of his.
Now, where we go from here...is anybody's guess.
(And please, if you'd be so kind, drop us a review, lovelies. We'd love it so much...)