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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Aszera Sunstrike gets ready for a party. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Chain: Dance Dance Day
The room is cold with the window open, and Aze shivers as she paces in her underwear, dresses strewn on the floor around her. The dance is in an hour, and she still hasn’t decided what to wear. Too few words she’s brought to craft a message, and she doesn’t even remember all of the details of each gown.
At least none of them are red. She’d asked several different orphans to make sure, in case one was being playful. The only red she brought is the cloak from the Aspenwood twins, and now is not the time for that. Blue is the color of this visit, though she’s brought a few neutral colors as well. She doesn’t want to look too desperate.
Aren’t I desperate? Little demon girl, tired of hiding in the corners…
Aze shakes her head, dismissing the thought, and returns to the puzzle of choosing a dress. Blue, then. There will be friends at the dance, but also people she doesn’t know. Her intentions should be unmistakable. As for which of the blue dresses, Her Grace had assured her that everyone would be apprised of her nature. Her Grace would not be expecting her to hide, and might be insulted by it. But then…
Her skin prickles, less from the cold this time than from the thought of strangers looking at her, seeing her body as a puzzle, maybe something to acquire and study. Her body. Hers. Aze draws in a breath, lets it out. Maybe something in between.
She drops to her knees, running her hands over the fabric, trying to decide. Something pretty enough, but not too provocative. She doesn’t want people to think she’s trying to sleep her way into the Alliance via the House of Nobles.
Am I not?
“I’m not,” Aze says firmly, refuting that one aloud in a low voice. “It’s not connected. The friendship helps, yes, but not… if we stopped, it wouldn’t change anything.”
Wouldn’t it?
The thought lingers as Aze’s hands settle on a blue dress with flowers. Modest enough. Not intended for hiding, so the tattoos will show on her forearms when she dances. Just a little bit. The best message she can think to give with her dress. And she’s already decided on the rest of it. People will be there for flirty elven dances, so she can’t disappoint, but she won’t be crass. She’ll entertain. She’ll follow. They’ll notice that part, that she’s here to choose her lead. And they’ll be happy to see her, the Aspenwoods, Ally, maybe even Mourn, since she had helped him with Rae…
If they remember you.
“They will,” Aze snaps, pulling the dress over her head. It hasn’t been that long since she’s seen Colson and Mordecai, but if they bring that up… Cori… Aze’s breath catches in her throat as the dress settles. “And they know this world better than I do. They won’t.”
Though she should probably disclose that connection at some point, for all she despises the woman. Maybe the Alliance will want her to kill Lady Bloodsong as a show of loyalty. She probably can, Magistrix or not. Will she?
The thought is surprisingly painful. Maybe not for the sake of Cori herself, but the connection, a living person who still remembers Liv. Aze shakes her head. If they ask that of her… but she won’t offer. This dance is a kind of loyalty test too, if a gentler one, and she’ll have to make sure to pass it.
And if I don’t, they’ll kill me.
Aze tenses, skin prickling again, and takes an instinctive step towards the window. The thought feels natural, an extension of recent nightmares, where a little swirl of nature and darkness slips into her room, saying, This isn’t personal, you were simply deemed too much of a risk. We decided that you came here without enough intent..
Awake, though, she shakes her head to negate it. Siamus wouldn’t. Would he? He is a good leader. And a good leader doesn’t leave discarded weapons unclaimed, weapons that an enemy might pick up.
He would make sure I didn’t believe it.
Oaths under duress are meaningless. If she knows the threat exists, they cannot trust her. That’s why everyone is so kind. That’s why… affectionate Siamus and bubbly Isla and careful Mr. Boutille and Rae claiming friendship and the frosty but accommodating Duchess. She isn’t supposed to guess, or the game is already over.
Leave the window open. If it happens, I can leave. I can embrace what I am, find others that match what I truly am inside…
That draws Aze up short. Tricky fucker. Always trying to creep in when she’s feeling off-balance. How long…? No, it doesn’t matter. She grabs the window and swings it closed, latching it and pulling the curtains over the glass. “No. Fuck you. I am Aszera Sunstrike, and I am here for a reason. I am going to kill it at the dance, and they will all see that I’m fucking amazing. And if they don’t, then so be it. I’ve made my choices. No escape hatches.”
Aze takes a breath, puts on a smile, and heads for the door. A dance party! This is going to be fun.