Snide and Prejudice (Duvalyon)

[Navisya Curare]

Fall 62nd, 512 After dinner. "Can I have that piece there?" Navisya used one clawed finger to indicate a triangular wooden block next to the toddler's knee. The young boy, with wide scarlet eyes and charming graphite curls, picked up the block with one tiny hand and offered it to his aunt. She took it graciously with a smile, then added it to the top of her little sculpture. "Thank you." A shadow loomed nearby, then knelt to place a hot bowl of soup next to the menagerie of carved wooden shapes strewn out over the floor between Navisya and three-year-old Dacydes. Each were building personal structures with the toys, one of them a wall with an archway, and the other a… well, a mountain, possibly. A lumpy one. It was a good effort. Navisya glanced at her sister with a defeated look. "Kelswyn, thank you, but I said I wasn't hungry." "Well you look half-starved." Kelswyn took a seat next to Reverin nearby, and joined him in watching their son play games with his ash-haired aunt. She was broadly built for a Symenestra, and an inch taller than her husband. Her thick black hair was tied in a low tail that hung over one shoulder. Out of her armor, she could almost pass for domestic. "Did you even eat while you were in the desert?" "I had less of an appetite, maybe. Everything had sand in it." Navisya picked up the bowl anyway, sipping gently from a metal spoon. She recognized Aessila's cooking immediately. Kelswyn had merely warmed it up. It had a dark flavor, venison perhaps, but it was also a bit tangy with a hint of citrus. She may have continued eating merely for the pleasing taste of it. "Everything." Dacydes abruptly handed another piece to Navisya, wordlessly demanding she use it in her sculpture. She dutifully took it and searched for a place in her wall to add it. Looking satisfied, Dacydes returned to his own masterpiece. Kelswyn made an unexpected move to shift the topic. "Will you be inviting your friend to the banquet tomorrow night? The human. What was his name?" "Vhast." She paused to take another sip of her meal. "And no. He can watch my dog. I don't want to babysit azo at a party meant for Symenestra." "Ah, well good. There is someone I want you to meet." When there was little reaction from Navisya, Kelswyn pressed further. "A very eligible bachelor. Kassinya Durian's nephew. Comes to me highly recommended. Reputable family, decent profession." Navisya smirked after another mouthful of soup, but didn't look up from Dacydes's growing and increasingly puzzling sculpture. "I haven't been home three days and already you're setting me up?" "Oh, you'll like him. Tall, intelligent. Dark haired, just the right length." "Good looking," Reverin added. "Good looking," Kelswyn agreed. Navisya looked up, amused and mildly caught off-guard. "And great with children. He has several nieces and nephews of his own. Very family oriented and faithful to his Web. The reliable type, Kassinya said." Realizing that nothing Navisya said could dissuade her older sister at this point, she merely continued with her meal and listened quietly. A piqued smile clung to her lips as she absorbed this information. Normally this sort of imposition might annoy her, but Navisya had been gone from Kalinor long enough to miss this treatment. And, honestly, meeting someone new sounded like just the right sort of adventure to have as she settled back into her happily sheltered life. Much less exciting than Eyktol. That was good. "Only a year or two older than you, and already he's been on several successful harvests." "He's well-traveled," Reverin pointed out. It was unusual for him to be interested in Navisya's personal life. She suspected Kelswyn had recruited him to back her efforts to find someone suitable for the young hunter to spend time with. A good tactic, considering that Navisya was usually resistant to Kelswyn's suggestions. "And who is this bright and shining figure? You sound half in love." Kelswyn looked to her husband, unfazed by her sister's sarcasm. "What was his name?" "Devudian? Dividia?" "Devurian, I think. Yes, I'm positive." She nodded, looking satisfied with herself. Devurian Durian, what an unfortunate name. It didn't ring any bells, but Navisya had never been well-connected. Kelswyn clapped her hands together, grinning victoriously at the hunter. It was never a good thing when Kelswyn smiled that wide. "Then it's decided." Navisya laughed. "Is it?" Fall 63rd, Fall 512 Half past sixth bell. Evidently it was. The hunter found herself at the banquet the following evening, looking more polished than usual. Aessila had arrived at Navisya's home bells before, helping her choose something to wear while ogling at her temporary pet human and filling her older sister in on all the drama that had happened in her life while she was away. Great care had been put into putting together her attire for the evening. Aessila chose from an array of crimson and gold colored silk wraps, adding in a satiny black for drama. The end result was a well fitted dress that draped the floor, but bared her shoulders flatteringly. It was mostly red, with the black downplayed, flashing moments of bright amber in a few places. Subtle highlights brought out the gold in Navisya's eyes, Aessila had said. At least an hour was spent on Navisya's hair. She preferred it down whenever possible. It looked best that way. Braids and ties were meant for hunting on windy days, or at least she lacked the skill to weave her hair into something more decorative. Aessila though was young enough to be absolutely preoccupied with her appearance, so she happened to know a few trending styles. The hunter's cobweb-white hair had been braided into itself, with another gold ribbon woven into the entire affair. A teasing lock was left to hang on one side of her face, resting weightlessly against her shoulder. Even after they'd arrived at the party, Aessila would not stop admiring her work or making small adjustments to it. As Navisya stood somewhere on the fringes of the friendly clamor conversing with her sister, she frequently paused as Aessila reached over to perfect Navisya's look with deft, delicate clawed hands. "Stop fussing." Finally succumbing to impatience, Navisya batted Aessila's hand away. "I'm sure I look marvelous." The younger woman pouted, but overcame her disappointment quickly. "Are you nervous?" she prodded with a teasing smile. "Maybe." The hunter briefly tossed a wary glance over her shoulder, searching the crowd for eyes that might have been searching for hers. She found no one, but when she faced forward again, her cheeks were almost rosy. "I have no idea what I'm going to say. I'm still a mess after Eyktol. If all of Kelswyn's selling points are true, I don't know what he would ever see in me." Aessila began to reply, but was immediately distracted. Her golden eyes had found something outside Navisya's line of sight. The older woman froze, her heart quickening. She felt silly, being so excited, but there was a certain joy in surrendering to the frivolous things. "Well you'd better think of something. He's on his way here." "He is? Where—" "Don't look at him!" Ever impudent, Aessila put her hand in Navisya's face again and reassigned several out-of-place strands of white. "Don't forget to smile, Sya. Smile, not smirk. You smirk too much, like you're making secret judgments. It's unladylike." "What? I do not—" "Alright, you're on your own!" The younger woman flitted away like she had wings. Navisya was left standing on her own, heart in her throat, feeling suddenly helpless. She had been hoping for Aessila to stay present as a buffer between her and the handsome gentleman to compensate for any potential lack of grace.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Fall, 61st 512 AV "Melia and your Aunt ran into one of the Curare girls at the Orchard Market," his mother began with a deceptively casual tone, "You came up and she seemed very keen on introducing you to her sister." Duvalyon barely leaned out of his chosen nook to look at his mother. He had tried to discourage attention by burying himself in one of his father's treatises, but since he was in his parents' home, he was assailable on all sides. A fool for tradition, he had a difficult time not showing up for their family supper. Had he failed to materialize his father would have dragged him home from the Purging anyway. "I don't like where this is going," he said. Veyatove was chuckling and whispering into his wife's hair while casting looks at his older brother. Duvalyon's bachelorhood represented the only cultural requirement he had yet to fulfill. The younger brother married exceptionally early and felt it gave him an inviolable superiority. "Why not, Duvalyon?" Veyatove asked, "You're not getting any younger. You used to have more friends. Symenestra friends, at least." Duvalyon made a subtle obscene gesture towards that corner. Veyatove had the gall to look offended and quickly turned to his wife for vindication. "I brought home a fresh child, trouble free," Duvalyon muttered into his book, "You'd think that would buy me at least a season of goodwill." "Her sister sounded nice," Melia added from her place, changing the tone. Her attention was mostly bestowed on the swaddled Avalyon in her lap. Happiness overspread her features, and both mother and child glowed. Duvalyon's mother eagerly resumed the line her daughter had abandoned. She knew he would listen a little better with Melia's endorsement. "A little younger than you. Independent, but good to her family. I'm told she's very patient..." "Have to be to stomach him," Veyatove interjected. His wife tittered appreciatively behind her hand. Mabda Hellebore pressed on. "Bright too, with light hair, gold eyes… pretty figure." She tried to hide her pleasure as her son slowly closed his book at the last few phrases. "Well…?" she finished hopefully. Duvalyon slid out of his seat and set the book aside. "Fine." His mother smiled with quiet triumph. Fall 63rd, 5th Bell Gods he was out of practice. Duvalyon stared at a burnished piece of copper on his wall, his hair still damp from washing and loose around his face. He was alone so it didn't matter that he wore an uncertain expression. There was no one to assure or control. Only a young man who had spent the last eight years pretending to be older than he was. His pursuits and this common fiction had reshaped the face under the mask, so even he forgot there was a great deal of living left to do. "Pleasure to meet you… " too priggish, "You look lovely…" too smarmy, "My name is…" too boring, "I've heard good things about you…" too desperate. "Petch it. I'm Duvalyon. I'm ill-tempered, killed my first person at fifteen, and I work too much, but I think you should like me anyway." Yes. That would certainly win her over. Zlynge. He took a breath and exhaled frustration. He used to be good at this. What happened? Twenty-three was too young to be past the ability to woo a woman. The last one he was in close quarters with, a surrogate, tried to kill him with a shard from a jug. He wondered if he even knew how to behave with a girl anymore without tying her down first. This was self-defeating. Duvalyon began to comb his hair. His vagik brother managed to get a Symenestra woman to fall for him. It couldn't be that hard. Quarter Past 6th Bell Upon arrival at the banquet, Duvalyon had been told she was the woman in gold and red with fair braided hair. It was a promising description. He was going to have a drink before looking for her in earnest. Better yet, he would bring her one as well, an easy gesture to begin things. Also, women tended to be a bit more forgiving after a cup of wine. His mother had looked at him a little too smugly when he first arrived. "Why, Duvalyon," she commented, "You look uncommonly well." "I washed my patient's entrails off my hands, and everything," he answered flatly. Truth be told, he had done more than that. He was in fine form, and at his sister's loud and adamant insistence he left his hair untied. It was irritating him enormously, but Melia had very seriously told him "Girls prefer it that way. Tying it so neatly makes you look older." It was the "old" that had made him shrivel inwardly. With two cups in hand, he was ready to find "the Curare girl". Duvalyon prayed she was worth the effort he had expended thus far. The house had a mild crowd despite being one of the largest in Kalinor. The party stretched between tear shaped rooms joined by short enclosed bridges. The youthful heart of the celebration was the room with mild music for dancing and cups of food. It was here that he found the woman in red and gold. Her back was to him when he caught her, and a friend who had been whispering in her ear made a hasty exit. Great. He was expected. This could bode both good and ill. If anything was to be deduced from the back of her, she was lovely: a small waist, sloping shoulders and long neck. His expression brightened without his knowledge, and something new gave him courage equal to desire. "Hello, Sibea Curare." There was a warm tone in his voice he had not heard for years.

[Navisya Curare]

A male voice arose behind her and she felt her skin tighten. No time for regrets now. Navisya turned around, following her sister's advice and putting on a pleasing, modest smile, and— Dropped it. It was him? His was the last face she had expected. Now Navisya struggled to ascribe every positive trait Kelswyn had sang about to Duvalyon Hellebore's sour features. She had been hoping for a stranger and thought she'd be meeting someone studious and enduringly polite, not someone so… him. Though Navisya had seen the eldest Hellebore son in passing before, the last time she remembered speaking to him, they were batting claws at the Place of Purging. Neither of them had been in a good state, and both of them had severely annoyed the other. It was an awkward memory, seldom recalled and far eclipsed by the birth of her nephew an hour later. Once the initial surprise faded, Navisya struggled between feeling disappointed and seeing the comedy of the situation. The latter won her over—no point in being negative—so she laughed.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

The woman turned towards him with a glowing smile, proving she was very pretty. She was also very startled. Soft looks were whisked away with recognition, and her wide eyes rushed to her friend with a sense of panic. Duvalyon's momentarily admiring expression fared no better in this transition. He was embarrassed and trying to hide it. When Navisya looked back at him and laughed, the alteration to his face was quick and cold. Duvalyon poured one cup's contents into another. It was time to start working on tomorrow's hangover. "This never happened. Understood?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, Duvalyon turned to leave.

[Navisya Curare]

Evidently, Duvalyon was not so entertained and mirthlessly turned to leave. She could tell he'd actually made an effort for her sake, and even sounded friendly when he'd said hello. Even Navisya felt let down, and she could see herself kicking up leaves and wallowing in her dashed hopes once she was away from the party. Her stomach was knotted with embarrassment, and part of her was still reeling from this turn of events, but she also felt badly seeing Duvalyon turn away from her. The night didn't have to go this way. "No, wait a chime." Navisya stepped forward and gently reached for Duvalyon's upper arm, wanting him to stop and face her again. She had stopped herself laughing, but kept her smile. Perhaps for her own sake. She knew she could occasionally be incorrigible and was making an honest effort to be courteous. "I'm sorry. I really wasn't laughing at you. I just, I wasn't expecting…" I wasn't expecting you. That wouldn't come out right. I thought you'd be someone else. No, even that was tasteless. There had to be a way of saying what she meant without coming off as critical. She had already laughed in his face. The last thing she wanted to do was insult him further. "My sister had said…" wonderful things about you? Would that sound disingenuous? Probably. Navisya drew in a deep breath, giving up on trying to explain herself. The awkwardness between them was growing worse by the second. She had to say something before the moment went on too long. Her surrender presented as a defeated, but good-natured sigh. "My sister got your name wrong. I didn't know she was talking about you." She glanced to the side thoughtfully. "I'm a little relieved actually." She didn't know how long she would have been able to keep herself from making faux pas over Devurian Durian's rhyming name. "Look." Navisya swallowed, nervously fidgeting with thin strands of hair on the nape of her neck until she felt Aessila's hot, angry gaze and remembered she wasn't allowed to touch her lovingly crafted coiffure. Her hands went in front of her and wrung her fingers together. "I know you probably don't care for me, and I'm sure you have good reason, but I put effort into this. Aessila spent an hour doing this to my hair. I'm certainly not allowing that to go to waste." She cleared her throat and straightened. "We'll do this proper and pretend we've never met, if that's just fine with you. I'd like to share at least one drink with you before we decide this is a disaster." Navisya indicated to Duvalyon with one clawed hand before braving his crimson eyes again. "And anyway I think you look rather nice, Versda Hellebore." She clasped her hands together again, hoping she didn't look too nervous or seem too desperate. It had been years since she had attempted to appeal to another man in this way, but months on her own in the desert had made her bold. "I've never seen you with your hair down before."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Duvalyon might have snarled at the hand on his arm if they weren't in pleasant company. A man's pride was both enormous and fragile, and his had been pummeled by a woman's laughter. Instead of growling, he looked at the delicate offending fingers on his arm with impatience. He was not low enough to accept a woman's pity, but not childish enough to break free. Duvalyon remained and turned under Navisya's touch. He drank from his doubly filled cup with an aggressively bored look as she spoke. At particularly spectacular blunders, his brow went up a little. Judging by his expression and wandering attention, her entreaty had failed miserably. Duvalyon reached past Navisya to place his cup on a table, then put a gentlemanly arm around her waist. The transition was jarring. He did not seem so warm as the first greeting, but he was going to try. "Dance with me." The phrase had none of the romantic flourish one would hope for. It was a clear command evenly spoken, but there was still something pleasing about his voice. He bargained with his lingering pride by reminding it that if he didn't talk to Navisya, he might be cornered by his mother for the rest of the party. This was almost enough to mollify it. The difference was covered by realizing that her figure was alluring on second appraisal. Duvalyon drew them into the small cluster of dancers who moved amidst the sounds of lap harps and a pear shaped guitar.The style of dance was more a pretense for private conversation and physical proximity than an exhibition of skill. No one was going to bring out their aerial silks. "Who were you expecting?" he finally asked.

[Navisya Curare]

She looked startled again when he stepped in closer, her breath catching in her throat. Of course, she had been hoping that Duvalyon would take her up on her offer, but she had not been expecting him to be so bold. Resolute, because her proposal had been genuine, she allowed him to place his arm at her waist even if it made the hairs on her neck stand on end. Navisya searched Duvalyon's features for intent, her yellow eyes gaping. She wore the smallest smile when she replied. "Uh. Y-yes." The hunter knew bows and arrows, mountains, forests, and dogs. Regulating family matters, between her warring siblings and parents, had built her capacity for diplomacy. She did not know dancing. There was no place in her life where it occurred with any regularity. Like leaving Kalinor, this removed Navisya out of her element and put her completely at Duvalyon's mercy. It was jarring to surrender control to someone she hardly knew, but it was a Symenestra at a party with dancing. She had every reason to feel safe. So even if it frightened her, she trusted him, and compliantly followed his lead. It was a good brand of fear. When Duvalyon resumed conversation, Navisya realized she had been smiling, albeit bashfully, for an unknown while. "Um." She looked down, gathering up her wits from the floor. Shockingly, Navisya managed to recover enough of her confidence to compose herself with a bit of humor. "Devurian Durian," she said with a flourish, as if advertising wares in a shop. Navisya laughed, but continued in the same ironically glib manner. "The well-traveled nephew of Kassinya Durian. Respectable job. Great with children. Good looking." The near-permanent smile parted, carrying a shade of chagrin. "Suppose the last part seems at least accurate." Navisya didn't even want to know what her selling points were. Unless she lied or exaggerated, Kelswyn touting good things about her younger sister was on the side of unimaginable. There was much love and respect between sisters, but also a great deal of sacred pride and bitter rivalry. Her grip on Duvalyon tightened when she nearly stumbled—true embarrassment for a nimble Symenestra. The humiliation of tripping over her own feet would be devastating. Navisya's cheeks flushed, but she made no apologies. "Last time I danced, my sister was getting married. I was twelve."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

"Strange," he observed after "Devurian" was introduced. "My relatives only seem to speak well of me when I'm not present." He was about to continue, but was surprised to silence when Navisya clutched him a little tighter and made her apologies. "I don't mind," he said easily. There were worse things than having a woman stumble against you. "I don't remember the last time I danced," he admitted. "But I'm certain it was more recent than twelve. Even I get out on occasion." Despite his relative youth, he had outgrown some aspects of society far too quickly. The eldest usually did, but in better timing. They became a group set slightly apart from their peers in Kalinor: the sometimes troubled, responsible harvesters. "I won't make you stay here." Duvalyon turned Navisya slowly, giving their brief dance a finished air. Knowing his limits, he wasn't trying anything complicated. "You know I am a resolute drinker, so I have no problem resuming that." They continued to drift with the music. Duvalyon didn’t broach the air with words for a time. He simply enjoyed the remains of the song and the chance it gave him to handle a pretty girl. "So, all this for 'Devurian'," he made a gesture between steps to encompass her whole person. "He sounded boring to me," a passing look of levity showed he was in fair humor. Duvalyon turned Navisya again, carefully guiding them, so neither would fully collide with another couple. Since they were both amateurs, small bumps were endured. "Old women think any young man 'good-looking' if he doesn't have a humpback. Even then, they would call him 'scholarly'. At least the patient, family-oriented 'Curare girl' I was meant to meet had gold eyes and a nice figure. " Duvalyon regarded Navisya with a perfect deadpan, "I'm surprised at your lack of standards. "

[Navisya Curare]

After managing to complete a twirl without careening off into nearby dancing partners,Navisya was offered a reprieve from dancing if she so chose. She smirked, catching Duvalyon's eye, and then returned to him fearlessly. Although it was a small challenge simply staying on her feet, it didn't mean she wasn't willing to learn by trial. "I didn't say I wasn't enjoying myself." She continued following his lead, smiling hazily and trying to ignore the torrent of neurotic thoughts rushing though her head as they moved about the floor. It became easier, once she began listening to the music and falling in with the rhythm. Navisya found it interesting to think that, only a few days ago, she'd been miserable in the stinking lower decks of a ship that had been trailing the edge of the Mizahar continent for endless weeks. Now she was safely underground, dancing with a man with whom, until tonight, she had been at mild odds. Events moved strangely. She realized that she enjoyed the way he smelled. It was novel enough simply having another person hold onto her. She was too used to her dog's company, or lately Vhast's—the latter of which was kept comfortably at arm's length at all times. This was more fun than he had expected, which made her wonder why she never sought this out. Patient? Kelswyn must have been in a good mood that day. The hunter broke out in another light, fluttering laugh, mostly to hide the flush in her cheeks as he complimented her shape. "I was looking forward to boring, actually," she admitted, her eyes settling somewhere between Duvalyon's chin and neck as she fought to quell her smile. "My life has been too exciting, recently. I just spent the last two seasons abroad and I have missed the luxury of being bored. Alas, Devurian was doomed to be a passing fancy at most." She scoffed suddenly, looking up again. "And I do get out! It's just usually with family." Not quite as often as in past years. Weekly traditions with her hunting party had waned last Fall and Winter since Navisya's mother's health had worsened. "Used to be, after we returned from hunting, we would all go for drinks. My little band." Her smile faded. "But, you aren't boring," she clarified, turning the topic back to Duvalyon. "So I fear my wicked aims have been dashed. Still, I'd forgotten that surprises could be nice and that there were good kinds of excitement." She turned her golden eyes back up to Duvalyon, her features warmer than before. "I had no idea this side of you existed." This Duvalyon was different, even, from the one she remembered about three years back. He looked older, somehow. A mere three years shouldn't have been noticeable, but it was. There was a depth and quietness in his eyes that looked a decade older than he was. Eventually, Navisya lost momentum and she politely broke away from her dance partner. She tried to conceal it by touching up her hair, but she had begun to grow exhausted, both from nerves and exertion. "Would you like to sit? I imagine these other couples are weary of being afflicted by my lack of grace." She gestured to a secluded niche across the way, but waited for Duvalyon to lead the way before leaving the floor. "I'm curious about this 'well-traveled' and 'good with children' I've heard about. You must have some stories."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

"I had no idea this side of you existed." Duvalyon huffed something like a laugh and said, "Shocking, yes. I'm not always miserable and hungover." Probably not the best retort, he realized. Don't petch this up, Duvalyon, he reminded himself, she's giving you a compliment and hasn't tried to kill you with pottery. When Navisya asked to leave the dance, Duvalyon drew her closer to himself with a simple move. From that protective pose, he gently guided her through the swaying press of bodies. He parted ways for her with his arm and withstood a little pushing for her sake. The moment they stepped beyond the border of the dance, Duvalyon completely released her. He'd be damned before letting this turn sour because he wasn't on his best behavior. "Thank you for the dance, Sibea." While Navisya settled into the seat of her choosing, Duvalyon fetched them something to drink. He grabbed the first thing he could that had an appealing hue and promised to dull judgment. Women liked red, yes? He hoped so because he wasn't going to be caught with anything rose colored. When he returned, she was ready with conversation. The nook she had chosen was barely wide enough for two. The intimacy of it surprised him. "Good with children?" Duvalyon smirked as he sat beside her, "I don't hold them upside down or throw them, unless they ask. Among non Chevas marked men, that makes me an expert." It was a mild lie to spare his reputation. No young man wanted to be defined as "responsible and good with children" even if it was absolutely true. They were supposed to be handsome, wealthy or adventurous. "My cousin's daughter may be here, she'll vouch for my present buying abilities. As for well-traveled, more than most, less than some." He began to tally the places he had been mentally, gradually sharing the list with Navisya. "I was in Lhavit for a little over two seasons and came back recently, there was a short trip to Syliras, time in Eyktol, my first harvest in Zeltiva, passed through Alvadas... " He glanced away and subconsciously touched the back of his neck before adding in a fast mumble. "No stories from that you'd like. Just the usual." Kidnapping, torture, murder, profound isolation, racial hatred, boredom, shame, disappointment...all the wonderful things he was sure any girl would like to hear about. "We live very differently from the rest of Mizahar. I am glad to be home." Trying to avoid the topic of travel and what he did when he left Kalinor, Duvalyon tossed the conversation back to Navisya. "You like hunting?" There were reservations about this. Duvalyon liked beautiful women who did beautiful things. In his heart, he was hoping for an aerial dancer. He didn't enjoy the mental picture of Navisya skinning a rabbit and pulling owl pellets from her hair. Maybe he needed another drink. "They didn't mention that about you."