lady_moon | (no subject)

Miniver watches, quiet and pensive, murmuring a thanks to Skill for the wine and everything else, watching Moon, watching Fortune, watching everyone but Sorrow.

Moon dishes out a plate of the torte for Miniver, smiling.

"Just wait until breakfast. You might leave here with an extra thirty pounds on you," she teases.

Across from Miniver, Fortune sips his wine and watches the poet. He doesn't even try and hide the curious interest.

Sorrow just sits silently beside Miniver, picking at her dessert.

He tries to laugh at Moon, but it's a little hollow.

He just nibbles at the torte. It's wonderful. Almost beyond belief. It's like a sort of dream, being here. And yet...

...it's bright, and huge, and loud, and there are so many strange faces, powerful beings, not even human. They pretend humanity, but they are all shards of humanity too sharp and bright.

He wants to run away from them all for a while. He's much better meeting people one at a time.

Sorrow stands up and smiles at her family.

"I think Miniver's bird would like his supper. I'll take our guest up now and find something for Dart to sleep in."

The gathered group wishes Miniver a good night, but they're quickly swept up in a heated debate over when the tarot can actively become an aspect in a child's life.

Sorrow nods at Miniver, indicating he can flee with her and find a respite in his room until breakfast.

He takes the opportunity without hesitating, taking with him the little package of bits of things he's saved for D'Artagnan.

"I'm sorry I'm not a very good guest," he says to her when they are out of earshot of the other cards. "Even a kidnapped one."

She pauses in the main hall at a table and picks up a leather sachel Moon found for D'Artagnan, and then she starts up the stairs.

"You're an ideal guest, actually. Quiet. We don't bring many humans here. To the castle."

"So you're not in the habit of abducting folk from their respective end-of-universes?" he asks, half joking, because he's a bit nervous still as he follows her.

"No," she says with a chuckle. "So far, anything that involved anyone from Milliways pretty much took place there. Except for Mary Anne becoming a card. That had to happen here."

"Oh..."

He'll ask about that one later. Right now, he wants to feed his bird. He practically leads Sorrow back to it, more or less remembering the way.

Dart flies to greet him when he comes in. Miniver catches him in his hand and pets and kisses his beak. "Hungry, little one? Yeah okay. I brought your dinner." He looks over at Sorrow. "Um, want to stay, or something?"

She lingers in the doorway.

"Whatever you'd like."

He shrugs, figuring she'll do what she likes, and goes to sit on the bed. He opens the napkin of saved morsels on his lap and feeds them bit by bit to the teenybird perched on his hand, all the while murmuring to him, very much a mother bird.

Sorrow smiles and nods her head.

"If you need anything, I'm a floor down, the door closest to the landing there. Moon's a floor up, and you can tell it's her room because her door is bright blue with pink flowers. Never understood it, but... Fortune, Choice, and Skill all have first floor rooms."

Long, long pause as he feeds the bird.

"Fortune's nice," he notes finally.

"He is. He was once human. A plantation owner in Louisiana."

Sorrow watches him.

"Which actually makes him the youngest of us after Mary Anne."

"Mary Anne's nice, too. A plantation owner, huh..."

He plays a game with Dart, tug-of-war with a piece of food.

She nods.

"Mary Anne's special. Papa swore he'd never marry again. Now look at him." Sorrow giggles at the tug-of-war. "Yes. He was very fortunate in his life. Wealthy, good breeding, a wonderful family. I went to him one night, though, and he handled his sorrow in such an amazing way..."

He blushes at that.

"Did he," Miniver mumbles, hiding behind his hair.

It takes her a moment.

Then she blushes deeply.

"Not like that!"

"Like what then?" he asks, squeaking a bit, giggling.

"His child died," she explains with an embarrassed grin. "It was a time of terrible mourning for him. I sat with him for days, followed him about, but he refused to pause for me. Fortune went about his business as if nothing had happened, and when the moment finally came when I forced him to face his loss, he wept, but he didn't break. It was quite remarkable."

"...oh," he whispers quietly at that. D'Artagnan finishes his meal and flutters up into the rafters before Miniver can catch him and make him stay, and no amount of coaxing will get him down. He's full and happy and wants a nap.

Miniver, meanwhile, is alone again, and fidgets. "Damn bird," he mumbles, forcing Fortune out of his mine. Had to know Fortune would never be a friend to anyone like him anyway.

"You should talk to him," she says with a knowing smile. "But beware. He's a rake. A terrible flirt and can be as smooth as the best whiskey."

"I like whiskey. And I wouldn't mind making a friend who isn't -- no offence, Sorrow, but -- who isn't something totally depressing."

He gets bored of his life sometimes, frankly. Misery becomes monotonous. And he misses his lovely Draco, with his black humor and cold, beautiful eyes.

"You're close to me all the time anyway."

"Yes, I am. Maybe tomorrow you can spend time with him. He's one of the most cheerful of us. Sometimes, I think it's a disease with him," she giggles.

He nods, and lays down on his bed.

"She's going to really keep me here, isn't she?"