{ scene } gold falling from the ceiling of this world, falling from the heartbeat of this girl

[cailisairgid]

Deep within the Deepmoor's autumn castle, Nuala sleeps and dreams; separated from her brother by battlefields and duties, even her dreams aren't untouched by the clash of steel and fire in their blood, and her slumber is restlessly disturbed. In the morning she will have so much to do, and in the meantime she shares in Nuada's aches and somewhere in her dozing mind she wishes he would sleep more. Their shared fatigue concerns her, sometimes, and she is ever grateful for the loyalty of his command who will ensure that not all of his hours are devoted to ruthlessly crushing their opposition.

(As proud as she is of him.)

Something, though, something is...off. Nuala is already stirring before the feeling can properly form and take root, there in the half-shell bed where she lies suspended from the high ceiling in her cushions and soft blankets; now might be the time to be very careful about startling her, though, considering the tension that doesn't go out of the air even when stealing sleep and her slightly wrecked nerves.

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[fallformebaby.livejournal.com]

An old French ditty, something about Creole and plantations and a master with devilry in his blood, was hummed by a deep voice as the other occupant of the room made himself at home, taking down a blue-bound book and flipping through the pages in a language he couldn't read.

Being known as the Brat Prince of Blood-Drinkers, there was always the delightful addendum of never having to apologize for doing whatever he felt like because, to Lestat, everything he did had a worthwhile meaning at its core, even if other people couldn't see (or sanction) it. Invading the Deepmoor out of loneliness for Nuala could only be described, by him, as a display of his love for the woman, faith in someone he couldn't bear to be parted from. He did so love good people, after all, craving their company to seem just like them.

Which was how one of the most powerful vampires in recent history found himself meandering around Nuala's private chambers without so much as a By your leave from her or the lady's friends - or Nuada. As the Cloud Gift dispersed and left him leaning on a mantelpiece to watch her troubled sleep, he did however resist the urge to go over and touch her sweet face, knowing all too well the dangers aroused with startling an unprepared mind from slumber. He perused her books, decked out in a dark blue velvet coat of modern cut and shiny black shoes, long golden hair shimmering in a ribbon as the buttons of his coat gleamed like golden beetles. Decadent and stylish, just like his entry.

[cailisairgid]

In this room are some of her most treasured possessions; out of place amongst her delicate and sometimes-ancient treasures is the thin plasteel box that Luke gave to her, guarding the seeds of great trees that will one day hold cities. A book of ancient poetry, translated for her by hand, lies atop the box next to a pearl of unusual size and her favourite moonstone jewellery. The half-open wardrobe door reveals the glinting of stars as the nightsky itself swirls across a black gown sewn by the princess, unique among her gowns for leaving her shoulders and clavicle bare. The embroidery hoop she abandoned last night before retiring rests upon the chair by the smoldering fireplace, a needle stuck through it pulling enchanted silver thread spun by her own hands.

Ordinarily this room is much less tidy than it is now - she has a certain carelessness in her approach to her living quarters, and the assumption that her handmaidens will keep it under control is a safe one - but in times of great stress she's always tended to adopt some of her brother's habits. The soldier who loves her so much is the tidier of the two, and perhaps straightening her books makes her feel closer to him. Perhaps it's just some strange quirk of their bond.

As Lestat acquaints himself with her private space, Nuala stirs and shifts, almost silent if not for the smooth slide of fabric, the change in her breathing that gives her away. Sleep-tousled and half-under a deep purple and gold coverlet, she peers at him over the edge of her hanging bed and, after a moment, blows her loose hair out of her eyes. "Lestat," she says, sleepy and surprised, "what can you possibly be doing?"

There are a select few people who can expect such a drowsily calm reception upon invading Nuala's chambers in the dead of night, and Nuada would probably prefer it if that list were so much substantially shorter. She doesn't ask him how he came to be here, having done this dance before with the Brucolac, but she is surprised to find that he is.

[fallformebaby.livejournal.com]

What a smart girl, not bothering with the boring mechanic of such things. Pleased he wasn't being dogged by the usual questions that mortals often posed - How did you get in here! being the outright winner - he put the book down and disappeared from sight, levitating in the air beside her bed with his hands seated in the pockets of his trousers, coat elegantly rumpled around his wrists. How beautiful Nuala truly was, even after awakening.

"Good evening, ma chérie. I'm here to see you, of course, what else could prompt me to make such a visit? Your guards are very well selected, I quite agree with their placement around the castle's grounds." Not accounting for the fact it was wonderfully easy for him to avoid them. "You needn't get up, babydoll. Relax! I don't expect you to be my hostess at such an hour. I've been missing you, that's all, and now I've come to wallow in your den of delights."

[cailisairgid]

Offhand, Nuala can think of three gentlemen - to start - who won't be pleased if they hear about this, but she worries at the draping cuffs of her thin nightgown's diaphanous sleeves with her fingers and regards him with half-awake thoughtfulness instead of suggesting that this is maybe not the best idea Lestat has ever had. After all she missed him, too, and foolishly or not she gave her trust to some unusual individuals.

Besides, she reasons, Lestat is as likely as any of the rest to do something copiously violent to anyone who threatens her - and so she is even safer for having his company. Pleased with this little bit of rationalization and carefully glossing over the fact she probably won't tell Uther Doul or Lonán that he visited, she rests her chin in her hands and smiles up at him, unaware of how much the toll of this new conflict wears on her visibly. Some days - some nights - more than others, she is weary and ageless. The battle might be out beyond the walls that she tends here, but it reaches her in Nuada's sweat and exertion.

"You are impossible," she tells him, dark gold around her large eyes. "I would have come as soon as I could, you know, I promise- I wish it would all be over sooner, but I see humans are stubborn creatures no matter what earth they walk upon." Bias, bias, bias. "Oh, I am pleased to see you, though."

[fallformebaby.livejournal.com]

"And you are as ravishingly beautiful as ever," he said graciously, crooking a leg on the edge of her bed perching on it while brushing aside the exquisite drapes. Leaning back on a hand situated the other side of her waist in the darker depths of her cavernous bed, he kept his opinion of the slight physical inconsistencies to himself; a little more tired, yes, she smelled as if she had been walking around urgently, the fresh sweat soaked up during an exhaustive, almost feverish sleep.

Reaching out, he brushed her locks aside and gently tapped her on the nose.

"Humans are careless," he commented off-handedly. "I've been thinking about you, it's lonely without you around these days. How selfish, getting me used to such wonderful company only to seal yourself away like this."

A twitch at the corner of his lips indicated he was less than serious, as did the twinkle in violet eyes.

"May I assist you in any way, my lovely girl?"

[cailisairgid]

In past years, she'd tried to spend much of her brother's battles fast asleep - hoping to be as little distraction as possible - but in a new position of authority that's hardly feasible the way it had been before. Even then she'd been pulled from her bed by duty, and now she finds she hardly spares herself the time to sleep at all, and so if she noticed then she'd probably be privately a bit grateful.

"I am kept from you by careless humanity," she informs him, in a mimicry of his off-hand manner; hers is a touch more brittle than he is. "Not for so much longer, I hope, though. My brother's army outstrips them by miles- it's very ugly, but I don't doubt we'll succeed in due time. All I can ask of you is your patience and faith."

[fallformebaby.livejournal.com]

Careful not to take her hand or allow their skin to connect (the very marble-like quality of his own being a sharp contrast to the warmth Nuala exuded, not to mention distinctly unpleasant for the majority) Lestat lifted a finger to stem her solemn words.

"Enough of that, I'm not here to console an already capable lady. I have a gift for you!" Grinning widely, flashing those fangs that novels recounted in such gloriously greedy detail, he reached inside his coat. "I never stay in one place for too long, owning the ability to do whatever I want, and recently went on a little trip. Here is the proof of it; enjoy at your leisure."

A pretty, red-ribboned slender golden box (http://i49.tinypic.com/mala88.png) was placed on the bed, cool and metallic but surprisingly light, carved with French swirls that held a distinctly vintage air. Inside sat a collection of posturing little chocolates in a variety of fine colors and flavors, decorated like miniature works of art instead of food.

"I wasn't sure which kind you liked, so I took one from every country to be sure."

[cailisairgid]

Despite herself, Nuala almost laughs - she's not quite up to it, but the sentiment is there and her affection is plain as she runs her fingertips over the edge of the box itself and tugs the ribbon free, absent-mindedly draping it at her shoulders where it holds her hair against her neck. "Lestat," she says, pleased as she examines the variety of chocolate and then looks up at him, her approval clear. "You are entirely incorrigible and this is a delightful gift."

It'll certainly make long hours in her study a lot more tolerable, she thinks.

"Sit with me," she invites, patting the space to her side, "and tell me of your travels." There's a hint of envy - even outside of wartime, her movements are more limited than his.

[fallformebaby.livejournal.com]

"You could have said worse," he grins, crossing his legs and leaning an elbow on a knee when instructed to make himself comfortable. It's a simple joy he indulges in, surprising (and shocking) others with little gifts that mean very little to him but, contrarily, can impress and win the good favor he so constantly craves.

Shrugging elegantly as he recounts the many varied journeys he makes, damnably difficult to tie down and thrice as infuriating to keep track of - and who wouldn't glory in that, if they could? - Lestat makes a steeple out of his long unearthly fingers, glassy nails glinting prettily in the half-light as he describes Egypt.

"I once knew the Queen of the Damned, Akasha was her name and she was the first human to have the Blood Drinking demon infiltrate her body, rendering her immensely powerful. She came from the land of the pharaohs and it's to there that I took myself, initially, wanting to discover her ancient hide-away. Cutting a long story short, sweetheart, I grew distracted by the culture of the inner cities and wasted a magnificent amount of time flitting from shadow to shadow, burying myself in an old sandy tomb to wile away the daylight hours in between chatting to the locals."