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konnorhasapen · 1 year

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IT'S FINALLY HERE!! THE NEXT CHAPTER!! HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY, I'M EXHAUSTED :D

Treading Water — Chapter 5: The Charmer & The Vamp I

Also on ao3!

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"By the Gods..," he said, gazing with wide, awestricken silvery blue eyes upon the one stood before him; the fabrics of their clothes, so weightless and bright as they fell like elegant waterfalls bounding over every curve of their figure. A beautiful ensemble that accentuated every perfection and made their flaws stand out—not in the sense of overpowering their radiance, but enhancing it. They were flaws as declared by themself and the likes of society, but to him, they were constellations, rivers, familiar paths that he knew and loved. They told the story of the life of his most beloved one, and to that end, they were just as exquisite as their most gorgeous features.

They said something, he could see their lips moving, but the voice was absent as it always was. Though he always knew what they would say. Always.

'Do I look that horrendous?' Was what they'd asked, expression sheepish as a bridge of rose flushed across their complexion, stretching so far that it reached the tips of their ears—slightly more pointed than the average, but still stunning. Everything about them was stunning to him.

"Absolutely not," he made clear immediately, rushing forward to take their face gently in his hands. It had taken the will of the world not to melt at the way they looked at him; like he was everything in the world to them. He hoped they thought he believed the same when their eyes met his. "Your splendor is far greater than anything or anyone I've ever seen. You're gorgeous, Lovely."

'Please,' he read on their enticing lips. 'In all the fairly short time I've known you, you're such an unapologetic flirt, Vincent." His brain rattled a little as he blinked owlishly at them. A voice had just tumbled out from their maw and it said his name, but it wasn't them. It was not the Lovely—his Lovely—that had frequently roamed about freely within his own mind. The voice sounded familiar...

"Vincent," there it went again. It sounded staticky and muffled, but even through the haze he knew he recognized it from somewhere. His attempts at trying to force his conscience to remember who the voice belonged to were cast aside quickly when he noticed his Lovely had begun leaning in to capture his lips with theirs. He watched as their eyes fluttered shut, waiting for him to make his move. He let his own eyes close as he obeyed their silent request and—

"Vincent!" The voice shouted with its chest, scaring him the man awake and sending him scrambling up from his cot so fast he wound up on the floor rather than his feet. "Gods, it's about damn time. I've been trying to get you up for hours!" It was Alexis, now bent over him with her hands pitched on her hips while Vincent groaned.

"...Third time," he grumbled as he picked himself up.

"Come again?" She asked, raising a brow and letting her features deadpan at her brother's melodramatic antics. Antics that she was far too familiar with to entertain anymore; not since they were kids.

"Third time!" He shouted, his voice doused in irritation and a hint of drowsiness. "This is the third time you've done this to me this week, Alexis!" He complained.

"What? The third time I've walked in on you getting fresh with the air?" She scoffed, eyes—silvery blue, just like her brother's—rolling "so hard they're sure to get stuck staring into her own skull," William would have said, poking fun at Alexis' frequently present attitude. Vincent whacked her lightly with his boot before tugging it on.

"No, this is the third time you've interrupted me right before I finally get to kiss them!" He pressed his hands over his heart and clutched at his blouse, looking past his sister with longing deep in his gaze as he stared at the drawings he'd done that were posted up on the wall. No matter how hard he tried, none of his work could ever come close to capturing them; his Lovely.

Alexis sighed, and although she knew she may just regret asking, she did so anyway:

"Kiss who?"

"The person of my dreams, Alexis," suddenly, Vincent's tone grew softer as he hummed dreamily. "They're absolutely ravishing, when I see them it's like nothing else in this world matters but them. They're all I can see, my Lovely~" He sang, standing from his cot—now with both boots adorned—and stepping lightly on his feet in a vague waltzing pattern.

"Uh-huh, real romantic how you dance the tongue tango with an imaginary person in your sleep," Alexis shook her head and moved her hands from her hips to cross her arms over her chest.

"You're just jealous because I dream and you don't," he shrugged with a smirk playing on his lips. With one last distant, dreamy sigh, he pivoted to meet her eyes and complied when she gestured her head to follow her out on to the deck.

"While you got your beauty sleep, I was docking the ship," she explained, grabbing her halved cloak from the knife embedded within the grain of the mainmast and draping it over her broad shoulders. The deep mulberry color meshed well with her loose black blouse and the embroidered clematis flowers that shone silver in the sunlight overhead. As the two stepped off the ship, Alexis removed her hat and tied back her mane of dark brown hair, planting her cap right where it belonged once more.

"And where have we stopped exactly?" Asked Vincent, walking with a confident spring in his gait like he always had.

"Quarius Port, headed into Glenwood," his sister replied.

"Which is.., where?" Alexis rolled her eyes again, but this time allowed them to drift and take in their surroundings; brick laden buildings of all shapes and sizes framed the gravel road they walked along, tailor shops tending to customers looking either for modifications or new wears, the scent of fresh goods from bakeries rides the breeze and lures townsfolk here and there to saunter through their doors. She spotted a kind and gentle looking character watering the herbs, flowers, and ferns that were both sat and hung just outside their apothecary.

"It's the port right at the South border of Rainfall," she told him. "We're in McKinley, Vincent. South of Rainfall, Northwest of Dahlia, just past Ferris." He snapped his fingers and grinned as if he knew all along and simply just could not put his finger on it.

"Of course! I mean, with the look of this place, it's hard to believe I'd forgotten for even a fraction of a second!" Vincent ignored his sister's sarcastic response and instead took a gander around himself, his gaze settling on the fountain in what must've been the center of town while he let his mind traverse across ideas of what to do. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted to do here, first and foremost.

"Are we in need of anything specific, or are we here just for the fun of it?" Alexis looked at him with a suspicious squint and a wrinkle in her nose and she questioned flatly:

"Why..?" Vinecent's grin appeared only to widen at her wary inquiry, which did nothing to ease it. "You better not be planning to find the nearest brothel—"

"Oh, absolutely not," The taller Solaire debunked immediately with a gobsmacked expression. "Though to the women and men in the works, they have my full respect, but how could I possibly dabble in debauchery when I know the person of my dreams roams the world as we speak!" He threw his arms out and gestured grandly to the quaint town of Glenwood.

"They could even be right here in Quarius!"

"We're not in Quarius anymore, you dolt. We're in Glenwood, the town right below it," Alexis corrected, forcing down a fit of laughter when her younger brother hitched on his words and stopped in his tracks as his expression dropped and became rapidly confused.

"Right! Obviously," he swept his long, tied up hair from his shoulder and scoffed while he started on his way to the tailor's. "I basically know this place like the back of my hand."

"Uh-huh. If you know this town so well, who runs it?" Vincent lifted his chin and opened his mouth.., then closed it. And repeatedly opened and shut his mouth as he stumbled and stammered in an attempt to think of any random name that sounded elegant enough to be a lucky guess. However, Alexis sighed and chuckled as she knew from the beginning that he hadn't the slightest clue.

"Glenwood is governed by her Highness Celine Aveross," she told him. "And she does it well. One of very few places in which the practices of Magery are not only legal, but actively protected." As though to prove it, she nodded over to the herbalist who was now accompanied by a cheerful woman carrying a supply of water in nothing but a softly undulating bubble that levitated between her hands. Her and the attentive shopkeeper shared a kiss—lingering and sweet—and her partner had begun drawing water from her bubble with nothing more than a pulling gesture with their index finger and thumb pressed together delicately. Rings of fresh water had been wrapped around each plant out on display and were all released to seep into the soil once the couple both gestured them to do so gracefully.

"How very kind and humane of her," Vincent said genuinely as he smiled and waved when the couple had glanced over and done the same. "It's incredibly sad to see only very few places have made themselves a safe haven for Mages. When you see these havens from within, you find the people living without fear, but you and I have no inkling of what they may have had to leave behind with no choice in order to actively live without that fear." He leaned his head back and breathed in deep through his nose, pulling in the delightful aromas that filled the air of Glenwood and noticing Alexis peering up at him as she mulled over his sentiments. He exhaled a hum, letting his eyes dance from shop to shop in contemplation of what to do first.

"I can smell those pastries and muffins fresh out of the beehive," Vincent pressed his lips into a thin line and clasped his hands together as he craned his neck to set his sights on a lovely looking bakery not too far down the road—plumes of sweet smoke streaming from the chimney atop the quaint establishment. "I can feel myself growing more malnourished by the moment! What say you?" He asked his sister, looking down at her with his usual grin. She ignored his theatrics and shrugged:

"I wouldn't say I'm starving, but I'm never one to turn down a slice of vanilla ginger loaf," she smiled back.

"'Tis settled then," he nodded indefinitely. "We satiate our famine, then it's off to that wonderfully witty looking tailor just across the way." He eyed the rustic windows of the shop just past the bakery on the other side of the road with an obvious shiver of giddy excitement, his pupils dilating at the mere thought of playing dress-up. This man was unmistakably the youngest kin of William Solaire.

The pair, guided by the taller of the two, sauntered inside. Alexis studied the cozy furnishings and docile ambience, remarking fully the way it placated the features and gaits of the townsfolk that strode and bounced inside; Vincent breathed in the surrounding comfort and eagerly pranced right up to the counter, ogling the goods displayed behind the glass of the long case. While he appeared preoccupied, he couldn't help but overhear a strong feminine voice call out with reserve at the sight of someone emerging from an unseen room.

"Constable," she'd beckoned, catching the vigilance of the supposed Constable as they had stopped in their buzzing tracks to meet her eyes. She stepped close to the open counter top, and the other copied her actions from the opposite side. They spoke quietly, but both Alexis and Vincent had quite the talent for eavesdropping.

"Ms. Greene," the Constable had replied in greeting fashion, fumbling a bit as they tied the strings of their apron around their waist. The siblings could practically hear the smugly quirked brow and the smirk on her lips as she spoke:

"Wintergreen is always such a pleasant look on you," she said. Her abysmal cobalt hues trailed intently across the beige accents of their charming apron before she continued. "So is cream, if I'm to be perfectly honest."

"Was there something you needed, or have you only come to accost me with your...provocative verbiage?" Their voice trembled almost as terribly as their hands as the question that fell from their lips came out a silent plea to change subject. The woman—Ms. Greene—chuckled softly, harmonious a sound that had the Constable simply melting from the inside out. And anyone who'd been in Glenwood long enough knew just how much tension had developed between the two.

"As much pride I take in watching your face change color faster than my sibling runs to save Princess Genevieve from walking through a puddle, there indeed is something I need to talk with you about," Ms. Greene's tone shifted seamlessly and the smitten Constable's own attitude followed suit, like the two had performed this same song and dance many times before. "It's about the disappearances," Alexis was pulled from the discreet intrusion when the woman who owned the bakery—Diane, she thought she'd heard someone say as some point—had asked her which treat she wished to indulge in; Vincent however, continued his snooping shamelessly:

"Claire—" the first name had caught The Charmer a little off-guard, but he could tell the name—her name—was a familiar taste and feeling on their tongue.

"I know these are conversations we're meant to be having behind your professional closed doors, but there was another one taken just last night. I caught wind of it in the office this morning and I knew you wouldn't be in just yet, so I came here to get you," as soon as Claire used the Constable's own first name, they wasted not even a second to remove their apron and toss it back to where they came from. They bid Diane adieu for the day as they hopped over the counter and strode briskly beside Claire, lowering their voices to barely a whisper while they left.

"And for you, darling?" Asked Diane, her attention now turned toward Vincent. Without missing a beat, he smiled kindly and requested a basket filled with pairs of everything she had. The woman gleefully complied, and the siblings were on their way to the tailor shop with a gracious "thank you" in parting.

"Welcome to Simply Fits, I'll just be a minute!" Someone hollered from the back of the shop as the bell overhead the door had declared with a boisterous jingle.

"Oh, take your time! We can peruse," Vincent waved off with an admirable smile, although the keeper couldn't see it.

The interior of the establishment was homely and comforting—much like Ms. Diane's bakery, just without the scent of sweet delicacies permeating the air inside. Lay figures lined nearly every wall of the shop, bedecked in finery from bodices crafted with beautifully intricate embroidered designs to tailcoats with lavish lace linings, frills and ruffles down the chest of some while the tails of others were pleated, and the rest were decorated with patterns of flora, wildlife, or constellations—all of them stitched with thread that glimmered opalescent in the sunlight that poured in from the open windows.

Vincent carefully thumbed the fabric of an exquisitely tasteful cape that was draped over one mannequin of many, glossy halcyon ribbon was smooth neath his calloused digit; the stitching was nigh on invisible to even the studious eye as his fixated gaze travelled along the river of gold that lay atop boysenberry purple merino wool, soft and warm. It was fairly weighted and spilled over the floor like a waterfall into a glistening lake. He couldn't help but imagine the piece bestowed upon the perfectly sculpted shoulders of the person who roamed freely through his unconscious mind, pouring down their stunning back and trailing behind them as they danced with him. A gently fond smile pulled at his lips and softened his features as he let his thoughts meander through the world of hopes, dreams, and imagination.

Alexis had been preening the romantic off-the-shoulder sleeves of a corset—admiring the way the Sacramento green of the chiffon complimented the bodice's amber yellow silk—when the tailor came clambering through the curtains shielding the back room with two newly clothed mannequins. The Vamp rushed over to help her, brushing her fingers gingerly across the tailor's as she lifted one of the figures effortlessly and offered her a playful smile that accompanied sultry eyes, gesturing for her to lead the way. The tailor quirked a brow at Alexis' flirtatious actions but proceeded ahead despite while shaking her head and repressing a chuckle. Once the mannequins had been placed and fussed with until she deemed them perfect, she spoke:

"Once more for good measure, welcome to Simply Fits tailor shop! What can I be helping the two of you with today?"

"Well, I am looking for something quite specific and I'm fairly hopeful that you could help me find it?" Alexis asked, pulling her hat from her head and placing it over the neck of the lay figure.

"That so?" The shopkeeper smirked as amusement twinkled within her vibrant juniper green hues and Alexis nods in response. "What would it be then?"

"It would have to be the name of the captivating beauty that the Gods have decided to bless my very eyes with, darling~" The Solaire purred. The other barked with laughter so loud it had shaken Vincent from his daydreaming stupor, drawing his attention over to his sister and the woman who had her head thrown back in a fit of euphoric hilarity.

"The name's Beth," she offered. "And the tavern's across the road and a little ways down if you'd like to try that line on someone searching for something!"

"Are you not searching?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss," Beth replied, her wolfish grin still present on her pillowy lips. "If you let the barkeep know you know me, they'll serve you on the house." Alexis raised a brow in intrigue and held her caddish smirk as she leaned in a little closer.

"Why's that? Have you got a reputation of sorts?" She queried with a silky-smooth hum in her tone. The tailor laughed again:

"Sure!" She lifted her left hand and waved it a bit. "Quite a prominent reputation as that barkeep's one and only!" She smiled, fixing her juniper own eyes on the handmade wooden ring that rested comfortably around her ring finger; the grain of the ash wood could be seen as clear as a shadow in the peak of daylight. They had told her when they gave it to her that they wanted to gift her something that was as beautiful and one of a kind as she, and they couldn't think of anything more perfect than a handmade ring of a wood that complimented her everything.

"Especially your eyes," she remembered the praises of sheer love and adoration falling from their lips with ease so vividly, a small smile graced her own. With a fond sigh, she brought herself back to her customers as Vincent had made his way over.

"Would that purple cloak over there happen to be available?" He asked politely, an excited grin creeping up on his features as he gestured a hand toward the piece he'd been admiring. Beth chuckled at his expression; his silvery blue orbs were wide and glossy, like a puppy begging for the food from your plate as though he hasn't been fed already.

"Today just so happens to be your lucky day, sir! I only just finished that beauty this morning and, though I'd be happy to see it in caring hands, the damn thing gave a permanent crick in my neck to remember it by." She lead him back to the cape, lifting it swiftly and delicately from the figure and holding it up as high as she could to showcase the lovely golden pattern that bloomed from the very tail end all the way up to curl and flourish around the shoulder blades and led right into the shimmering halcyon chain that clasped to a small brooch—one in the shape of a lightning bolt—to assist the squared shoulders in keeping the ness from slipping.

"How much?" Asked The Charmer, his hands already fiddling at the flap on one of many a burlap pouch hanging from his hip. "It'll cost about a gold and six in copper," Beth replied with a gesture to follow her to a counter near the back room she'd stumbled out from before. Once on the other side, Alexis pressed her hands to the clean wood and leaned in overtop it: "I don't suppose I could persuade you into offering something a little lower," she offered; her voice was rich, spilling from her full lips humming out in that lustrous, velvety timbre "Perhaps we could... mark it down~" Beth only stared at her, albeit quite baffled by her undeterred persistence. The tailor laughed again: "As I've mentioned, Miss, I am—and continue to be—very much not interested." She returned her attention to Vincent as Alexis then huffed and began to pout, rolling her eyes at Beth's rejection and finding interest elsewhere in the shop—laying different colored fabrics over her warm, sepian skin to see which ones looked the best—while she waited for her little brother to give his payment. "Thank you," said the taller Solaire, watching her drop the coins into a pouch hung on her waist before she started to fold the cape neatly and carefully place it within a deep box as she replied with a polite "of course!" and vibrant nod. "Oh, actually, would you mind keeping this treasure here for the time being? And I'll be back for it before we take off," Beth nodded again, pulling out a small card and a quill with the end already dipped with ink. "Name?" She asked. "Solaire," he replied. Her wrist moved smoothly, and the deep colored ink followed as it flowed along the parchment, writing out his surname in stunning Prussian blue script. "Alright then," she finished the name with a flourish and gently placed the paper inside the box, atop the tidily folded cape, closing it and lifting it from the counter to carry into the back room for him to retrieve later that night. Beth bid the two farewells as she disappeared behind the auburn curtain, and the siblings left the shop only after hearing the tailor holler to them a reminder to swing by the tavern and give the barkeep her name. Vincent and Alexis perused around Glenwood for a little while longer, the former stealing glances toward the window of the Constable's office and squinting at the way both the Constable's and Ms. Claire Greene's lips moved to try and make out what either of them were saying, but the Constable closed their curtains and blocked the whole scene from view. The siblings popped inside the apothecary and floral shop, formally meeting and greeting the Mage couple they had seen earlier as they purchased a few medicinal herbs and flower seeds for the small garden Vincent grows on the window sills inside the Captain's quarters. They came and went through many different establishments from Delaney's Butcher Shop to a lovely little place filled with fresh fruits and vegetables that was run by the even lovelier Princess Genevieve Aveross and her rugged yet wonderfully kind partner Knight. They even popped inside Glenwood's library where they met a few more friendly faces: there was Rose, the head librarian, her newest pair of helping hands was introduced as Dear—who was another Mage—and Abby, the bard the siblings had interrupted mid-ballad with their arrival. After their greetings, Vincent immediately took to the shelves adorned with power and the bard had followed along, overjoyed that he'd been actively participating in her ramblings. "—then the next Kingdom over, I think it was Rainfall? Yeah, they wrote in a law a little while back that places any and all Mages on death row," she explained. "And it's not even wrongful use or abuse of Magery. If they catch a Mage just helping their crops grow, their execution is scheduled less than a week out." She traced a gentle finger over the engravings in her guitar, following the floral patterns.

"So I've heard," Vincent replied, inspecting the spines of books that caught his eye to pluck them from the shelves and study the full covers, only to put them back when his interest dissipated. "There's not a doubt within me when assuming that very law is the reason this town is populated with Mages of many." He added as he led them both back to the front of the library, spotting Alexis leaned in close on the desk—a flustered Rose and her rather discreetly irked Dear on the other side.

"Lex," her brother sighed.

"What~?" She asked, "I was only introducing myself." She held out her weathered hand towards the Mage and they took it with a passive smile, trying with might to remain civil toward the new folks.

"The names Alexis," she purred, her smirk deepened when she felt their grip twitch. To ease the tension they could all feel was growing, Abigail spoke up:

"Oh, hey! You two are gonna be here for the rest of the night, aren't you?" Her grin was radiant and contagious as Mage's demeanor had softened in her warm light. The Charmer and The Vamp nodded in reply. "In that case, why don't you swing by the tavern later tonight? I'm playing music for Glenwood's most beloved performer and the whole thing is going to be amazing!"

"That's the second time today that we've been invited to this tavern," Alexis cocked a brow at her brother and he smiled:

"Well, there's no way we can pass it up now!" The bard beamed at his declaration and the siblings said their farewells before stepping out from Glenwood's vast library.

What little time remained was dedicated to seeing more of what the town had to offer; watching the folk carry on with their day, chatting amongst friends, and even new faces as Vincent and Alexis had run into their fair share of "Good evening" greetings.

Once the sun had sunk beyond the trees afar, they watched people make beelines toward the tavern's entrance and could already hear the bustle and merry coming from inside.

"Time to feast our eyes upon Glenwood's beloved performer," Alexis stated, leading the way to the building.

They barely had time to find their places—Vincent standing in the crowd while his elder sister found herself taking one of very few empty seats at the bar, catching the keeper's attention and mentioning to them Beth's invite.

The musician—whom the pair had immediately recognized as Abigail—picked the strings with such fluid deft and familiarity that she need not so much as glace down at the beautifully crafted guitar that sat rested on her knee, the sunburst body held close to her by her left arm and the cherrywood neck cradled in her right hand as her calloused fingers pressed down on every string required. The center of the floor was nearly cleared, all but one person had vacated it to leave a large open circle. Every time the notes sped up—just for a moment in such an enticing introduction—one of their feet would trace a shape in the solid wood beneath them just before pressing the ball of their foot deeper and shifting their weight, their hips and chest would follow gracefully, and their hands so delicate in the way they gestured and moved in tandem. Once, twice, thrice—four bouts of melody picked from the guitar strings before the notes travelled up to the peak and spun circles all the way back down to the ground of an open E that was plucked with a flourish as The Dancer bowed low over their leg with it.

Abigail flicked her wrist, running the tops of her nails across muted strings and in the blink of an eye The Dancer was stood up straight, the wooden heels of their boots clacked rapidly against the floor like palillos, their feet in fifth position with their hips and weight centered, and their arms were sharp and strong as they framed their face with practiced precision, the silk of their romantic sleeves hiding all but their tantalizing gaze behind the violet fabric that covered their arms and met at the seams around their elbows; the rest of their shirt was fitting to the skin with a V-neck missing its lace, the band of their long, violet, ruffled skirt was masked by the cerulean chiffon scarf wrapped around them that helped cinch their waist and lift their figure. The band started up—as did The Dancer's footwork, quick and crisp their boots tatted and clicked at the floor in time with the percussion of the box drum as their chest, head, and arms moved along with the guitars. The thick ruffles of their sleeves shimmied and fluffed with each elegant movement of their arms; every time they spun they'd kick up the long back of their skirt, letting it ride the air on the momentum when they'd go around more than once.

As their dance went on, Vincent couldn't seem to take their gaze from them as he watched in complete awe of their astounding skill and flamboyant appearance. Alexis, barely unable to tear her own eyes away from the scene, leaned into the bar and muttered to the keeper:

"Who is that?"

"That's Stranger," they said with a smile. "Came to us one day and asked if they could set up an agreement: entertainment for free lodgings. That was years back, been with us ever since." The barkeep looked back at them with a deep fondness in their eyes as they poured out a glass of water. "Saved our asses that fateful day, they did."

"Do they always rake in patrons by the masses like this?" She asked, taking the offered drink with a nod of thanks. They nodded:

"Shoulda seen 'em on the silks the other day," they said. "They've got a few performances under their belt, but I think their favored are them silks and that flamenco number of theirs. Quite the sights, they are." Alexis hummed:

"I'll drink to that," the barkeep raised a brow and nodded with a smile before being called away by someone who'd just entered the tavern. Alexis had recognized her as the tailor she and Vincent had met earlier that evening.

"Grab me a drink, Beautiful?" She asked over the music, craning her neck and smiling flirtatiously at the keeper.

"You got it, Beth!" They grinned back even brighter and excused themself from the conversation. Alexis winked with a half-smile to let them know it was perfectly fine before they bounced off to serve and speak to the lovely tailor, and her own thoughts wandered back to her brother as she glanced to the crowd where he was, only to see he was no longer there.

Vincent had excused his way to the front ring of the crowd, undeniably enthralled by The Dancer—'Stranger' he'd heard them called when someone else among the audience had hollered that it was always a pleasure to see them, drawing out a genuine grin from beneath the sensuous allure their every movement was exuding. Each ethereal flourish of their delicate hands, every gyration of their practiced hips and the sharp, clean clicks and clacks of those heels against the well-worn wooden floorboards.

Stranger... He let their name fall from his tongue, verbal within the confines of his mind yet his lips moved slowly through the letters. As if they could read his very thoughts, their striking eyes met his own once again and this time shimmied one arm just over their head while they reached out with the other, beckoning him with a finger and a look. The tavern goers hooted and whistled at Stranger's choice, two younger looking observers giving him a hearty shove out onto the floor.

They challenged him first, scuffing their right heel at the wood and clicking both rapidly against the floor on the three beats the box drums and guitars provided. They snapped their head up and watched Vincent to see him copy their movements exactly across from them. They grinned, tongue peeking out from behind their teeth with giddy amusement as they knew he'd passed their test. All but one guitar had dropped and the last that remained was plucked and played lowly to mimic a slower pace while still maintaining the same speed.

Both Stranger's and Vincent's moves followed the mimic, the latter dancing circles around the former as they allowed the music and the feeling flow freely through their body, a sense of confidence and pride blooming in their chest when they watched him worship their whole being without so much as a word. Their hips swayed and their arms like gossamer scarfs caught in a wind current, their whole figure moved like the water; smooth and sensual, but fierce and strong. Vincent's own footwork was nothing to sneeze at, they noticed, and decided to put it to the test.

Three more chords were struck to put an end to the slowed motions, and on every beat Stranger made a move: they took the younger Solaire by the hand and spun him inward toward them, bracing him with their arm as his spine arched. They hooked a finger of their free hand at the very bottom of the string that laced his blouse and pulled it from the fabric in a single movement, tossing it away before they used that same finger to draw a ginger line along his jaw.

"Follow," The Dancer whispered to his slightly parted lips, slyly within the break of muted strums. The next few beats looked as though they were planned before the performance as they spun him back out with a pose, only to grab his waist with their left hand and tugging him back in against their body. On the final beat of the drum and stricken chord of the guitars, their hand was pressed momentarily to his chest, flush against his skin—now exposed since they'd un-laced his deeply plunged blouse. One more muted strum as they ran that same hand quickly over his outstretched arm and interlocked their fingers with his.

The pair danced seamlessly in tandem with each other like they'd been doing so for years, and neither showed very much hesitation in letting their hands roam showingly over one another's figures. They pulled in close, then spun away, and danced their way back to the middle again and again, smiling all the way. They ended with the grand image of Stranger's weight supported by Vincent's strength, their back curved over his arm while they each had their free arms splayed away from them like symbols of wings.

Heaving breaths were drowned out by the roaring cheer of the entire tavern, claps and shouts rang out through the establishment while the two steadied themselves, and Vincent hadn't the time to meet back up with his sister when Stranger had slipped away from the bustling innards of their audience. They beckoned him with that finger again, he couldn't help but follow. They'd disappeared out the door a little ways before he could reach it and when he opened it up, his silvery blue eyes caught the cerulean hue of the scarf that had been wrapped around their waist, though now it was hung from the outside handle. Vincent felt a chaste and playful smile tug at the corners of his mouth, a chuckle leaving his throat as his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

His eyes followed the only pathway of gravel, one that lead to sand and a set of footprints left behind by a very distinct pair of wooden-heeled boots. Along the same path was their discarded violet colored skirt, and a little further—toward moistened sand—was their matching shirt. Eventually, his gaze came to a rocky hill that seemed to act more as a wall when he spotted Stranger waiting for him just behind it, eagerly waving him nearer. The moon shone behind them, casting their figure in shadow; one that disappeared once more beyond that natural wall. Vincent untucked his blouse from his trousers, sighing pleasantly at the cool breeze of the night that wafted through his clothes and hair. He draped their scarf over his shoulder and started toward them.

The closer he got, the more his heart sped up and the butterflies in his stomach must have multiplied, something inside him echoed in a near-childlike excitement thinking about what a night he may be in for. No matter which way it would go tonight, whether they find themselves nestled in the sultry palms of midnight passion or simply end the night giggling and playing around with one another as they gaze upon the beautiful starry sky above, he knew it would be amazing. When he reached the precipice of that wall, he truly hadn't expected the scene his gaze fell on when looking over what awaited below...

The Dancer had suddenly vanished.

——

WOWIE THIS TOOK A DECADE

I'M HAPPY WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT THO :D

JUST A WEE BIT OF A FOREWARNING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER: It's gonna get a little darker in the next one (mentioning animals and a person being used for sacrificial ritual) as I'll be bringing at least some semblance of our local cult CloseKnit into this shebang, but not to worry! It won't last long and this is the only instance this far that I can think of that will get this.. uh.., graphic..? I dont feel that's the right word, but for lack of a better one I'll just stick with it^^

Anywho- I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, as I enjoyed writing it<333

(Fuck I forgot the-)

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@epsi-l0n @morgansplace @pinksparkl @friendlyfaded @sealriously-sealrious @anthrokiaera @star-sheeps @nonbinarycringe404 @the-gender-bending-squid @whatalovelymae @sri-rachaa @febreze-bottle-without-febreze @romirola ...i think? I know I'm forgetting some and I'm so sorry but I am so tired and I trust you will see this on your dash💀-

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