"What did you do on your birthday?" "Got older."

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

Evening of Thursday, September 10, Day 102
Garden behind the Whitechapel Inn

My twenty-third birthday.

Dear Valmont, he is trying so very hard to make this a happy day for me! Waking with a kiss (even though I could hardly sleep last night), flowers on the breakfast table. And telling me that I should take the day off to luxuriate, which was wonderfully tempting, but I had to go back to the library. I did not want to feel that I was being kept away, for if I were, then Lysander would be winning. And I had to make sure that the library would still feel tranquil to me after yesterday - I don't want to lose that peaceful place I have found there.

When I walked in and saw the chaos that Lydia had made, I laughed until I cried. Or possibly the reverse - it was rather hard to tell at the time. And then we straightened the books up, and when I was done, I turned around to find a little book of poetry that had not been there before on the front desk, tied with a bow, and my smile came back.

And then Valmont came to walk me home, and we have kept happily busy and distracted with setting up the party. Through some unspoken pact, we have not mentioned Lysander all day. The thought of what happened yesterday still makes me feel as if I am falling...but I will not fall,and I will not let it ruin today, for today is about my new life and all of the people who belong to it. Valmont. My new friends. And...well, some of those coming are 'people' only in a rather loose sense of the term. But I would not want to risk bringing ill fortune down on myself by not inviting my people's gods! And there's Chester as well, who I suppose doesn't exactly count as a person either. Ah, Excolo guest lists. There's something comforting in that very oddness, though. People, creatures, gods - they are all part of Excolo and my new life. My new year.

The lanterns dance in the trees; the light of the setting sun glints off of the wine bottles and glasses, and I wait in the garden, feeling a little bit of peace. Let today be free of unhappiness, please! Let me be safe in the garden on my own day...

[Open to party guests]

Comments

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Sleepy murmurs and soft lips follow my question on Wanda's wakefulness, and even though I am worried for her now, I kiss her back anyway.
"Lucien, when a woman wants to go home with you, it's always good form to take her up on it, especially if you're already involved." Iago offers helpfully, and I laugh at that.

"Well then, how can I ignore such sage advice?" Rise from my chair, pulling Wanda up with me. "I think we'll take our leave. It seems to have been a long day for all involved, and a warm soft bed seems to be in order." Tuck my arm around Wanda's waist, and I wink at the other couple. "See you guys later."

We say our goodbyes to the assembled party, wishing Hermia a happy birthday again, and slip out of Valmont's garden, making our way back home.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"I'm lucky if I get a day's peace to myself.” Manage to avoid smiling wryly at that, though it's a near thing. Trust his days can't all be as eventful as this afternoon, but I'm sure he's kept busy. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave the majority of the details to the bride to be here. ... She's out cold, isn't she?" Lucien says, smiling down at her, and there's an ease to her settling against him that I've not seen in Wanda in a while. She murmurs a protest and straightens a little, still looking dozy--"Sorry, didn't sleep much last night."--and then pulls him down into an embrace, and I smile faintly at them both and think I’m yet quietly glad that Iago's not after doing that in front of folk.

"Take me home? I've missed you."

Swear I can feel Iago grinning beside me, and he and Lucien are bantering; the kind of thing I can listen to with half an ear at best, which all things considered is rather useful at the moment. Lucien gets to his feet, arm around Wanda and making his goodbyes, and I manage to wish them both a restful evening. End up settling both my hands on the edge of the table and glancing over to Iago. Oh, stormcrow, swear there's nothing I'd not let you do when I see that grin...

"Mead is light," he says easily, his hand gliding up along my thigh, "or if you'd prefer to avoid alcohol, surely there's juice of some sort. My suggestion is mead though." Spit and staunchweed, no-one's looking, no-one's looking but that's scarce the point, stormcrow, please...

"I'm thinking," I say in a low voice, "that as we're going to be at least making our well-wishes and goodbyes to Hermia, something light is doubtless best." Brush his hair back from his face and run my fingers down the warm pale column of his throat, dragging my nails and leaving scratches half-hidden by his hair and the dim light, and grin at his hissed intake of breath. "And then perhaps we could go home, and drink there? It's been a long day, and I'd welcome the chance to spend the last of it with you."