Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis)

Subject: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Sun Jun 08, 2014 11:31 pm

Vanessa Jhalak Sheridan

"Should I prestyle them, M'lady," Braithwaite's question was highly suggestive, the kind of note that Vanessa imagined Lady's Maids everywhere employed because they couldn't give a dicrect order and could even be faulted for a suggestion. In the end, her kind had to force it into a question, maintaining the delicate balance between pushy and nonchalant to get their message across without making the Lady in question feel offended at not knowing what to best do with her own hair.

It was likely because of this mastery of Braithwaite's that Vanessa kept her on as a permanent fixture to the household staff. Her hair may not look their best some days but at least her Lady's Maid's tone did not annoy her as much as she had originally expected it to.

"Leave them down," Vanessa instructed nonetheless, after all, there was nothing to be gained from making a servant's life easier. I can get up extra early tomorrow for them to set into the style needed for brunch.

"Very good M'lady," the woman answered, no hint of ill feelings in her tone even if she was likely dreading getting up that much earlier to see to Vanessa's needs.

"And when you're done, please send someone to see where his lordship is. I shall be quite unable to sleep until he comes to bed."

"Very good M'lady, I'll ring downstairs on my way," Braithwaite replied, placing the fine toothed comb on the dresses. A final dab of scented oil and Vanessa was ready for bed.

"Good night, M'lady,"

The Sheridan heiress didn't bother to acknowledge that, her attention already otherwise occupied as she waited for someone to come with news of Louis. He hadn't come to dinner and while it wasn't unusual for him to be in the study at odd hours, it still unsettled the brunette when she went through long hours without as much as a glimpse of him.

Guest

Merde.

Louis apparated back to the palace cursing incoherently in quick, expressive French. For some reason he deemed it better than cursing himself in the country's tongue, less aggressive, almost as if he was writing something intricately worded. Though, of course, Vanessa would know in a moment.

As the gates admitted his presence, Louis barely gave them note as he concentrated his energies. The finely trimmed hedge that outlined the path on each side went up in a furnace a moment later. Louis didn't look though, the heat radiating off of the vast expanse of shrubbery did little to settle his mind.

"You had Constance Vale and you let her go?"

"Non!" Louis shouted back far too late for the man to hear. The images had swam now just as they had then, because Louis had already known his failure before he'd been shouted at.

The sound of feet in the gravel made Louis' eyes go darker. Someone had come to interrupt his time alone. "Monsieur Cle-" but the man never finished as the invisible capabilities threw the butler back the way he came, skidding in the gravel.

"You had the most dangerous woman in the Black Widows, and you let her just apparate away? Who's side are you on, Clement?"

"Vanessa Sheridan's." Louis whispered in reply, once again too late as the intensity of the fire grew. The man was shaking, he didn't fail. He was a Clement. It wasn't in his blood, and here he was, failing the woman he loved. He wasn't a man, he was a mouse.

Subject: Re: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Mon Jun 09, 2014 2:16 am

Thoughts of the next day and the brunch kept the witch busy for the next ten minutes. Apparently the Windsors were once again emerging in society, how quaint. And the rumor of an illegitimate son were just that. It would be up to the listener to discern the truth from the fabrications and Vanessa had long ago learned that art on her Grandmere's knee.

But as more time passed and Louis failed to make an appearance at the door, Vanessa rang the bell beside her bed impatiently. Her butler was more considerate in that sense and was by her side in two minutes, nursing what looked like some sort of nasty bruise turning a vibrant purple.

"Yes M'Lady."

"Where is his lordship? I assume by the smell of burnt grass on your coat that you've seen him?" Vanessa questioned, cold grey eyes trained on the old man.

"Y-yes M'lady," the man nodded, his uncertainty clear on his face. It wasn't his place to speak ill of Louis Clement and yet the bruise on his face didn't happen from a kitchen related accident. Failing to find the appropriate words, the butler bowed instead. "My apologies, I did did not have time to change."

"Is Monsieur Clement coming up anytime soon?" Vanessa asked, ignoring his wardrobe matters. To his credit, the man bore dismissal of his own injury with adequate grace.

'It would appear not, M'Lady."

"Very well," Vanessa breathed, getting up from her dresser and reaching for her white silk dressing gown. Perhaps things hadn't changed all that much. Even after all these years, she still had to go get him when he was sulking.

Tying the gown tightly across her narrow frame, Vanesa dismissed the butler, making her way down the stairs and out into the grounds via the parlour door. The maze area was somewhat clear and so were the fountains. But it didn't take long to follow the light of the burning hedges to lead her to her cousin.

"Louis Charles Philip Clement," she called out, her voice soft despite her earlier annoyance.

Guest

Louis had closed his eyes, focusing on the intensity of the heat as his wandless magic moved around him, capturing everything in it's grasp. Nobody had understood his anger at a young age, and normally left him to fizzle out, sending Vanessa out a short while later to bring him back in. Normally for a scolding as he'd ruined some stupid plant area, but Louis would merely pick another place the next time.

But never the maze.

"Louis Charles Philip Clement,"

The man flinched at the sound of his full name, ringing out in much the same his Grandmere's voice did, though softer. The fires ceased almost immediately, taking away any danger from Vanessa's path. It had always worked, the softness of Ven's voice towards him the only thing that had ever worked enough magic to cool Louis' temper.

The Frenchman's jaw was still set, his posture hostile, but with Vanessa around he would never make a fool of himself, or put her in harms way. "I'll come in soon." Louis insisted as the smell of burnt leaves and wood purmeated the air. He didn't want her to go, of course, he never did, but he hated Vanessa seeing him like this.

Subject: Re: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Mon Jun 09, 2014 5:37 am

"I'll come in soon."

The witch had to work hard to restrain the soft smile that threatened to touch her features, for as much as she lamented the passing years, Louis had a way of turning back time until they stood exactly where they had thirty years ago. Louis angry at the world and Vanessa the only one unafraid to walk towards him.

Dominic had asked her once, in awe and grudging admiration how she walked towards his brother when he looked ready to kill. Vanessa hadn't been able to explain then and though she had learned many a distortion of languages since then, the witch doubted she could explain it even now.

The idea of Louis Clement ever hurting here was as absurd as ... as the idea of Louis hurting her. No comparison in the world emphasized the ridiculousness of that singular idea.

"Or we could talk," she suggested, her voice still soft as she threaded her way through the debris of charred leaves and ashen twigs. "About why we will have to restore this area of the gardens tomorrow."

The rising smoke from the bushes bathed the area in a musty, wood smoke smell, surprisingly rather pleasant in the otherwise cold january evening. Oh well, at least her cousin wasn't in danger of catching a chill.

"Ce qui vous a fait tellement bouleversé, ma chérie?" The witch asked, reverting to french unconsciously as was often the case.

Guest

The Frenchman only opened his eyes when Vanessa said they could talk, having to open his eyes to remind himself he wasn't nine years old any more. He was a grown man, and shaking with anger as if he were still a child who had no control. Thankfully the witch didn't have to see the dark look in the man's eyes, his back remaining turned to her as he took a moment more.

"About why we will have to restore this area of the gardens tomorrow."

Looking around him at the charred bushes, Louis tried to stop the feeling of guilt rushing at him from all angles. Of course, the we in the sentence would not include either one of them, the staff would restore the gardens for them, but Louis could just about depict the carefully worded dislike for what he'd done.

"Je lui ai laissé échapper, mon amour. Je vous ai laissé tomber, me laisser tomber. Je... je suis désolé." Louis explained, his voice the defeated nature of what he'd done, despite his hostile stance. "I didn't know..." The Frenchman added, shaking his head slightly at the notion of failing so much. "Elle était là ... Et elle s'est enfui. I didn't... Stop her..."

Subject: Re: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Mon Jun 09, 2014 4:35 pm

"Je lui ai laissé échapper, mon amour. Je vous ai laissé tomber, me laisser tomber. Je... je suis désolé."

Truth be told Vanessa wasn't much concerned with who this person was that Louis had let escape. She did know however that it was important enough to succumb to his fireworks in the middle of the night and therein lay the rules upon which her life was crafted. The Sheridan heiress had long since stopped caring about the Black Widows and whatever the point they were trying to drive home was - mainly because the point no longer demanded any validity, if it ever had in the past - but she cared for the man who apparently cared for such nuisance.

So by default, Vanessa was affected. The witch might have likened it to collateral damage but loving Louis Clement was already collateral damage of being Vanessa Sheridan, and similes could only be exhausted so much.

"You did not let me down," she spoke reaching out to take his hand even though he refused to face her. Brushing her thumb gently over the back of his hand in a gesture old as time, Vanessa slid her other arm though his, hugging him from behind as she lay her head upon his shoulder. "Comme si une telle chose pourrait être possible."

"Elle était là ... Et elle s'est enfui. I didn't... Stop her..."

"You'll get her next time," the brunette murmured reassuringly. "They run like rats because they know their time is near. Soon they will fade, all rebellions do."

The art of war, Ministry workers pretended to know it, rebel leaders pretended to master it, but only the bearers of true blood actually understood it. The enemy was no wizard and no power, it was the rotting core of society that no longer deemed tradition worth observing. Real wars were not fought in battlefields and courtrooms but in parlours, withdrawing rooms, solars and at balls. The war to keep the old way alive against the stench of disgusting modernity.

"No come to bed, I get so depressingly lonely without you," she added, her whisper soft and caring in the cold breeze that had somehow managed to snake its way under her gown and chemise. "You can loathe these people just as well from the warmth of our bed."

Guest

"You did not let me down,"

With Vanessa's hand holding on to his, and the soft sensation of her thumb against the back of his hand, it was impossible for Louis to stay tense. Her touch, no matter how slight, released every tightness in his body. For how could you be mad at the world when the only person who mattered reached out for you in such a manner?

"They run like rats because they know their time is near. Soon they will fade, all rebellions do."

Louis knew that, he'd been taught just as the witch behind him had. But even then, Louis still felt like one rat exterminated was something he was capable of. More than capable of. He'd simply been too slow.

"No come to bed, I get so depressingly lonely without you,"

The idea of playing indignant child in that moment had faded as soon as it had came. There were still sparks of annoyance, but nothing like what it had been. Vanessa had always been his source of peace with the world, and she'd once again restored it. Or, most of it at least. Turning around carefully, Louis raised their joined hands to his lips, kissing Vanessa's knuckles softly with an apology written in his eyes. Bushes were replaceable, he knew, but his intended never could be.

"Just one moment." The Frenchman whispered, leaning down slightly and pressing his lips to Vanessa's. Public displays of affection were kept to a minimum in their society, but Louis didn't care right now. He just wanted Vanessa to take every last notion of anger and cast it away.

Subject: Re: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Tue Jun 10, 2014 4:15 am

"Just one moment."

As Louis turned to her, Vanessa found herself unable to meet his gaze full on. The height difference was one thing but the look, the assurance that she would wash away all his pains and grief was so prominent it made her wonder how he had so much faith in her ability, a faith she never had in herself to start with.

As the man pressed his lips slowly to hers, his movements growing bolder as she adjusted herself against his frame, leaning her head lower to kiss him back, Vanesa could feel his body as well as she could feel her own. His tense shoulders, his irritation at himself over a line of work that was vastly unimportant in the grand scheme of things and most of all, the way his tongue sought entrance into her parted lips, gentle despite the harsh exterior.

a soft wind rustled through the gardens, carrying the smell of burnt shrubbery and rifling through her hair as she pressed close to the Frenchman seeking warmth. She couldn't blame him for the comfort he needed, his touches had a magical way of taking away her own day's worth of worries too.

Guest

Being granted access to Vanessa was possibly one of the best feelings in the world. Even out in the gardens, a place usually limited to walks of the gardens and entertaining guests, but Louis wouldn't wait. He needed his betrothed in that moment, and anybody who dared to look down on them would face Louis' wrath.

Louis noted the witch's movements closer to him, wrapping his arm around Vanessa's waist and drawing her closer to him. With such a fine layer of clothing on, it was no wonder the heiress was cold, her clothes could only be suited for the warmth of their home, not out here.

Slowly, and more reluctantly than he cared to admit, Louis pulled away from the kiss. Despite the sweetness of the witch's mouth, he could not bring himself to make her stay out in the cold. Keeping Vanessa out here would be on par with causing her injury with his own hand, and Louis could not even begin to contemplate such an action. "Lets get you inside." He whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

Though despite his words, Louis did not move, because in every move of life for the two of them, it would only ever mattered what Vanessa wanted.

Subject: Re: Woodstock, Oxfordshire - 2013 (Louis) Tue Jun 10, 2014 3:35 pm

His decision making process was both amusing as well as, if Vanessa cared to admit, slightly arousing. Growing up with a proper education of marital affairs, Vanessa knew what was going on in her cousin's mind. The hitched breathing, the accelerated heartbeat, the intensity with which he kissed her. His body displayed all signs of his intentions and yet...

"Lets get you inside."

Grandmere had been a firm believer that men could not think over the needs of the flesh, but here there was one man who could. The sentiment was flattering really, that above it all, Louis just wanted to make sure she didn't catch a chil. A small smirk decorated her lips as Louis leaned into her, holding her securely to himself.

"Afraid of a little chill, are we?' she whispered, her grey eyes full of mischief as she looked up at him. "This Black Widow must have really scared you," the heiress teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Eh bien, nous avons de vieillir un peu de temps, je suppose," she added, making no move towards the palace. Despite the cold weather, there was scant moonlight out and the wood smoke scent was rather becoming once you were accustomed to it.

Guest

"This Black Widow must have really scared you,"

"I'm not scared." Louis growled back at Vanessa. He was not a coward, especially in regards to the Black Widows. The unimpressed nature of the man was clear in his eyes before Louis pressed his lips back against Vanessa's, firmly as he proved his point.

"Eh bien, nous avons de vieillir un peu de temps, je suppose,"

"Shh." The Frenchman replied, annoyance quite clear that she had insinuated he was scared. Deep down, Louis knew she didn't mean it, it was a roose for reaction. If Louis had been capable of pulling such ideas to the foreground he might have played back. But not backing down was more important right now.

Deepening the kiss once more, Louis allowed for the urges that stirred around Vanessa to take centre stage. Running his hands over the heiress' chemise, Louis let out a soft sound of content. Nothing had really changed since they were fifteen, Vanessa had maintained her figure, despite everything. But with age she had become more beautiful.

Louis' hands hesitated briefly at the hem of her chemise, before the witch's words of cowardice echoed in his mind. Instead the Frenchman pressed on, his hand snaking under the witch's chemise, taking in her curves with his fingers, a smirk touching his features.

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