Tales after Dusk 05

...

On a normal occasion, Alecta loves a ball just as much as the next woman. It is the one thing she always looks forward to, when her crew takes on a new job that allows her a high station. Despite the fact that she is usually dawning attire most likely either stolen or paid for with stolen money, there is something so freeing about wandering aimlessly amongst strangers who themselves are trying desperately to pretend to be more than they are. Merely by standing back and observing she can distinguish a person's entire life by their behavior.

But this is not a ball that she is looking forward to or is even enjoying. Though she puts on her flirtatious smile and keeps her chest perked out, it is hard for her to keep up the charade when inside she feels sorrow. No matter how hard she tries, she finds herself watching Thorne out of the corner of her eye. Seeing Talia swoon over him causes her to boil inside. Alecta tries to tell herself that she has no reason to be angry—despite the fact that that woman is more or less cheating on her fiancé, she is attempting to cheat with the actual Prince of Briartown.

It might not be entirely obvious to Thorne but Alecta picked up the signals immediately—Talia keeps her chest out, bats her lashes, laughs girlishly at everything he says and punctuates the start of her sentences by laying a hand on his forearm. She discovers that she hates her ability to read lips when Talia pouts and says It would be so wonderful to find a partner to dance with—Prince Thorin is too busy for me tonight. And, of course, since Thorne is a gentleman he offers her an arm and walks her to the center of the floor.

Edmond, on the other hand, has only been able to tell her how beautiful she looks in passing before being pulled in other directions. As he thought of Alecta the night before, the room is filled with both young women and men who desire a royal connection and have been trying hard to procure it through him. While he stands several feet away from her, attempting not to be rude to the latest group of people who demand his attention, his eyes never wavier from Alecta. She knows it too and every so often she glances to him to catch his attention and provides him with a knowing smile. Not enough to be obvious to others but enough to keep Edmond's heart swooning for her.

Only half involved in the conversation of the group she is standing with, she watches Thorne and Talia take a turn about the room. Before she can think twice about it she flashes a brilliant smile and the words escape her mouth, "It would be a shame if I wasn't able to discover how well I can dance in my new dress."

"Why then, my Lady, perhaps I can be of assistance," a smooth voice comes from her right. Instantly she recognizes the curious man from the night before. He has been watching her since she arrived at the ball; gradually, throughout the evening, he has made his way closer and closer, finally casually joining the small group of people she was conversing with.

He holds his hand out to her; Alecta accepts it with a smile and allows him to lead her to the dance floor like a pet. The firmness of his grasp portrays a man who is used to getting his way without objection, one who expects others to yield to him, yet the softness of his skin tells the story of a man who hasn't done an honest day's work in his life. Though his cane is absent and he hides his limp well, Alecta can detect the minute lopsidedness of his gait. As the new song begins, she catches a brief look of shock and perhaps jealousy from Thorne, who is still caught up with Talia.

With his perfect posture and excellent skills, he begins to lead her about the floor, "Your abilities and grace are unprecedented—an obvious trait of your fine breeding," he says haughtily.

Alecta has to smother a laugh at the irony of his comment; in his arrogance, combined with his once dark hair and handsome strong face, she easily sees his connection to the crown, "I do not believe I have had the pleasure of an introduction, Sir." She waits until he opens his mouth to reply before she interrupts, "No—wait, do not tell me." She tilts her head to the side with a small pout on her lips as if she is examining his features, "How cliché you are, tall, dark and handsome. You must be related to the King in some way?"

With a broad smile pursed on his lips, he nods slightly.

"Hmm, and obviously you are at least a Marquis; am I close?"

"Very," he slightly purrs, "Duke Ferris Briar, brother to the King."

With a tight smile, she catches a worried glimpse from Thorne's direction, "Ah, the proud uncle? Well I am honored to make your acquaintance, Duke Briar."

"And I, yours, Countess Remington. I must say, it is truly a pleasure to be dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room."

"What about Miss Talia?" She replies with a laugh.

He shakes his head slightly, "A poor man's Juliet, at best. I feel sorry for my dear nephew, having to marry down to someone of inferior birth with such parents as hers."

"Oh, come now, surely the poor woman has a redeeming quality or two," Alecta says in a sarcastic tone of voice, in order to mirror Ferris's attitude, "She did wake up the town after all."

"I dare say, if it were I who had to wake up to her—I would go right back to sleep again. But if it were you whom woke me," he says with a brilliant smile as the song draws to an end, "no feat of man or magic would keep me from someone such as yourself."

Alecta truly blushes at his comment; though he is a handsome, sophisticated man his attitude to the average person appalls her. She curtseys in thanks for the dance but as she drops down he bows and catches her hand, bringing it up to his lips. It would be easy for a less seasoned woman to quickly fall for his advances.

"May I have the next dance, cousin?" Thorne's familiar voice breaks the couple apart.

With a flirtatious wink, Ferris turns and leaves them as the next song begins to play.

Thorne assumes the position and begins to lead Alecta around the dance floor. He looks as if he wants to say something but doesn't.

"It is no wonder," she says to break the awkward silence, "that you were so pretentious, growing up around a family such as yours."

"Yes, my Uncle is quite a bit more so than the rest of us. It was years before my parents were able to conceive a child and all that time he assumed that he would one day rule Briartown—that is, until I was born of course. I think his jealousy has prevented him from being the kind of Uncle a boy wants."

The silence prevails again. A warning flickers in the back of her mind but her cattiness overrides her thoughts and she lets a snide comment slip from her lips, "I see Talia has taken a liking to you."

Thorne slightly rolls his eyes, "I can't get away from her. You would think that she would spend more time with her fiancé—frankly if I were him I wouldn't stand for such infidelity."

"But you are him," Alecta says. When she gets an unusual look from Thorne, she realizes that it hasn't occurred to him yet, "You are her fiancé. I'm not entirely sure that you can discredit her for being unfaithful to an imposter, when it is you that she is attracted to."

Thorne's face grows blank, his voice slightly cold, "I am not sure that I like what you are saying."

"Like it or not—" she abruptly stops her sentence when she sees Jasper appear along the back wall. When his eyes meet hers, he gives a brief nod. Instantaneously she sees Basil dancing his way towards her with one of the twins; she quickly finishes her statement, "Like it or not, it is the truth."

"Pardon me," Basil's smooth voice comes washing over them. Before the twin or Thorne realizes what is happening, Basil has swapped partners, sweeping up Alecta into his arms. Within moments they are across the dance floor, laughing gaily as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Well that was peculiar," the twin says, cheeks bright red.

"I would rather dance with you anyhow," Thorne replies, giving her an awkward smile that causes her face to flush even more.

The reason for the abrupt swap becomes apparent when he gets a sharp chill down his spine. Moments later, an icy breeze whips through the large room, snuffing out all of the torches and candles. Frightened gasps fill the air; the twin grips onto him tightly.

With a loud bang the large wooden doors burst open and the torches flare a bright green flame casting an eerie shadow about the entire room. Slight panic settles in as a dark cloaked figure leaning against a staff appears in the doorway. The crowd parts in half, leaving the figure a wide path to the throne where the King, Queen and imposter Prince are perched.

"Leave here, witch, you are not welcome!" The King's voice booms over the room.

Without so much as a word, the figure slowly walks forward. A pure white hand reaches up and pushes the hood back, revealing a nymph with pure white skin, glowing green eyes and dark, twisted horns on her head. She stops before the thrones; though the monarchy doesn't yield, it is clear that they are uneasy at being so close to her.

"Oh come now, is that any way to treat a guest?" Her cold, sweet voice says.

"Please, Carabosse, the curse is broken—leave us be, we are trying to celebrate a happy occasion," the Queen pleads.

A soft smile forms on her bright red lips, "Yes, so I see—our lovely Prince Thorin has been awoken by his true love's kiss." Though her eyes briefly land on the fake Prince, she slowly turns to look at Talia. Though the future Princess quivers in fear under the nymph's gaze, she is actually looking just over her shoulder at Thorne. "I must admit," she continues, eyes looked onto his, "I was surprised to hear that the town was awake, however I am here to offer my congratulations." She spins on her heels and looks at the fake Prince once more.

"What more do you want from me?" He demands in an entitled tone.

"From you? Nothing—honest. I have no more surprises for you, Prince Thorin." The irony of her sarcasm is only understood by a select few within the room.

Carabosse bows grandly before turning and walking towards the door. Once again, she looks through Talia to Thorne, "Enjoy the rest of your life, my dear."

With a slam the doors shut tightly behind her; immediatly the lighting returns to normal. Everyone in the room is shaken, though none more so than Thorne. He leaves the twin, rushing to the doors as the guards slowly pull them open. The hall is thick with men, though they are confused as if waking from a dream. He pushes past them, desperate to get to the nymph but when he breaks through to the cool night air, all that remains of her is an echo of laughter.

The party is slow to return to a normal state; one by one, couples begin dancing once more. Talia remains near the Prince, being comforted by him yet her eyes never leave Thorne. The King and Queen do their best to brush off the interruption and the Duke has disappeared.

Thorne stands alone, leaning against a wall with a glass of wine in his hand. He watches Alecta acting as if nothing happened as she flirts with Edmond.

"Now what?" Thorne says softly upon the appearance of Basil next to him.

"Jasper is tracking her. If all goes well, he will return within the wee hours of the morning, at which time we will leave. I imagine we will remain here at the party for a few more hours but then we must get a good night's sleep."

Thorne simply nods. As Edmond nonchalantly slips his hand into Alecta's and leads her away from prying eyes towards the darkness of the hallway, Thorne discovers that Carabosse is now the last person on his mind.

...

When he finds that her door is unlocked he doesn't bother with knocking, instead he just slips in and quietly shuts it behind him. Thorne pauses there, waiting with his back against the wood as his eyes adjust to the dim light from the dying fire. He forces himself to breathe slowly, deeply, silently, trying to quell the nauseous anxiety building up in his chest. Reluctantly he turns and treads lightly through the large room towards the bedroom, his heart pounding so fiercely that he can feel the throbbing in his fingertips. He stops just behind the sofa, lurking in the darkness as he peers through the open bedroom doors. By a single candle's light he sees the shadows reflect off of Alecta's bare back, dancing across her delicate skin. Lifting her arms over her head, a sheer silk night gown drifts down her body like a cloud of smoke.

He knows what he wants to do but finds doubt within himself. He wouldn't have thought twice before about taking what he wanted from a woman as he never felt the need or desire to have to prove his worth to her. It seems queer to him now that there once was a time when his title was enough—it provided him with the key to the kingdom: the right to get what he wanted, the right to be an arrogant prick, the right to treat everyone like dirt. Yet from the moment he met her, his title meant nothing. He was forced to fall back upon his character and was disappointed to discover that it lacked a great deal. The old him, the Prince Thorin, would have found it absurd that his greatest desire would be to become common, to throw away everything and spend the rest of his time simply being near a woman.

She hasn't made an inkling at his presence but he knows that she knows he is there. He wants to say something suave, something wonderful to capture her attention but all that comes out are the jealous rantings of a spoiled child, "Where did Edmond take you? What did he want?"

He watches her slowly brush her hair. His stomach churns while he considers the possibilities of what could have happened between Alecta and Edmond after they disappeared. But she never waivers, never misses a beat and instead, ignores his question, "Why does she have such a hatred for you?"

Taking a deep breath, he pulls his eyes from her figure and forces himself to walk around the couch. He is finally beginning to understand just how intelligent and intuitive she is; she knows how to manipulate people, she knows how to read people but most important of all, she knows how to diffuse a potentially volatile situation. He slowly sits down, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pant legs, "It is rather complicated." His voice quakes nervously.

Alecta appears from the bedroom, drifting forward to take a seat beside him. She tucks her legs under her body, propping her elbow on the back of the sofa so that she can rest her head on her arm. Reluctantly, he looks at her and instantaneously his anxiety dissipates. How many times before has she quelled a man's doubts with a simple look? With a reassuring smile? As her eyes bore into his, he realizes that it doesn't matter, because he loves her with all that he is.

Thorne takes a deep breath, gathering up the cracked pieces of his being and tries to hold himself together. Only then, does it occur to him that the woman he saw the day before yesterday, curled into a ball in the corner of this room, is the epitome of how he feels at this moment. He closes his eyes and forces the words out of his mouth, "To the best of my knowledge, the disdain between her and my family began with my great grandfather. In an effort to improve the housing of the people of Briartown, he cut down a large section of the forest. I'm not entirely clear on the details as no one in my family likes to talk about it but from what I gather, she was a little girl back then. One of the falling trees killed her mother. From that point on she has plagued my family with her revenge. When I was born my father decided to invite the nymphs to my christening to put an end to the feud. He swears up and down that he sent an invitation for her but somehow it got lost. She was displeased to discover that the other nymphs were in attendance, yet she hadn't been invited. She showed up anyways and on that day she cursed me—on my twenty-seventh birthday I would prick my finger on an arrow and fall into an unending sleep. After she left, I was lucky enough that Mayweather was there. She wasn't quite powerful enough to lift the curse entirely but she was able to alter it so that I would remain in an endless sleep until I was kissed by my one true love."

"Why didn't the other nymphs attempt to reverse the spell?" Her voice comes searing into his thoughts like a bright light.

"There were only two other nymphs alive at that time and both of them had already given me their gifts before Carabosse appeared. The first made me handsome while the second gave me the ability to succeed in all of my endeavors," Thorne opens his eyes, turning once more to look at Alecta. She sits intensely listening. "I have no doubt that Carabosse knew about those gifts. She assumed women would flock to me, so in an attempt to foil it even further she must have had moved me after I pricked my finger. I don't know how she managed to remove the town's memories and switch them with that of the false Prince but despite all of her efforts it appears that the second nymph's gift was perhaps the most valuable. As I lied down and desperately tried to fight off sleep, I can remember my last thoughts, my last hopes were that my true love would find me and break the spell. And despite all of Carabosse's efforts, my true love still found me."

Alecta stares right back at him, "You know we will never work," she says softly, "every moment we spend together is just adding to the amount of pain we will suffer later."

Thorne leans towards her, "I know."

"We really should spend as little time as possible with each other," Alecta doesn't move away from him as he draws closer, pressing his lips to hers.

"If I am to spend the rest of my life without you, I want every moment I can get until then," Thorne's voice is deep and husky when he releases her lips.

Alecta has no words to respond with; instead, she slips her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. When their lips meet again, Thorne slowly pushes her backwards on to the couch. His heart beats faster than it ever has before, blood raging through his veins. He waits for her to stop him but when she doesn't, he presses against her, desperate to feel her body, to taste her skin. He is nervous, his hands shaking so badly that he can barely stroke her calm face. She, steady in her movements, confident in her want of him, pushes his green coat off of his shoulders, letting the soft fabric fall to the floor. When she tugs at his shirt he quickly grasps the back of his collar and hastily tugs it over his head.

Alecta pushes her body up against him, forcing him to sit up before she turns over and leans into him, pressing him down onto his back. He hastily kicks his boots off as she straddles him, her hands fumbling with the buttons on his pants. She bites her bottom lip, her calm façade fading away while her chest heaves in excitement. When the buttons are undone, Thorne slowly pushes his pants down to his knees before sliding his hands against her thighs to pull up her night gown. She braces her palms on his chest and eases herself down onto his manhood, taking the entire length in one long movement.

Thorne's eyes flutter shut upon feeling her body encompassing his; he reaches up, his hands tracing over her covered stomach and chest until he circles the back of her neck. He pulls her down to him, desperately pressing his lips against hers as she rocks back and forth onto his body.

She moans into his mouth; Thorne slowly raises himself up until he is sitting normally on the couch, Alecta still grinding against him. Letting his head drift back against the cushions, he gazes up on her beauty, his hands sliding up the back of her gown, fingers tracing her bare skin. When she increases her pace he can't help but match it, thrusting up to meet her each time her hips drop down upon him.