- Joined
- Jan 8, 2020
Watching the sun slowly sink beyond the skyline, she shifted, feeling restless. This was not new for Mallory. She had everything she could ever want. Have a craving or a desire, just let her father know and she'd have it within hours. Anything, but freedom. While she wasn't privy to the gritty details, Mallory had once been told in broad strokes why she was being cloistered like a nun in the fancy penthouse. It had occurred after a scare, someone who had tried to kill her. At the time, he'd promised it would only be for a few weeks.. but a few weeks turned to months and then years. Blue eyes were glazed over as she watched the city lights now illuminate her view. Delicate fingers raked through her lustrous black locks, sending them tumbling down her shoulders and back as she paced. She was sixteen and it was hard enough to keep a sixteen year-old girl still normally, but tell her she couldn't do something? It was all she wanted to do. There had been many attempts to escape, none of which had been successful. Padding across the hard wood floors she pressed a hand to the doorknob, her eyes shifting to Westly. The strong lines of his stone body were haloed in dim lights from below. Westly was her only friend, perhaps a sad state of affairs, for he was a gargoyle.
It had never bothered her though, that he didn't answer back. He would listen to her for hours, a steady, comforting presence. Westly, so named for the Dread Pirate Roberts, from The Princess Bride, was told all her dreams, her fears, her pain, her sorrow and ultimately of her loneliness. It wasn't that Mallory didn't see others, but those she did see were carefully screened by her father and his people. From her maids, to her tutors. No one was allowed access to her without being thoroughly searched and investigated and while some too took pity on her, most kept their distance. Even her father kept his distance, if only to protect her from his enemies. Her birthday, just a few hours before, had been celebrated with a lavish dinner. a cupcake and wonderful presents and her father's face on a screen. She'd dressed for the occasion, because this year he had promised to attend in person. It was her sweet sixteen after all...
Pushing the door open she felt a rush of cool air against her skin. Shivering slightly she padded toward Westly, her stocking feet catching only a little on the stone of her balcony. Her delicate, white and pink dress swayed in the wind as it curled around her legs, covered by cream thigh high socks. The wealth of dark hair fell into her face as she leaned against the railing, shifting so her body was pressed to his strong side. "You'd have lost the bet, Westly." Her voice was soft as she stared out into the glittering city. "He decided it was too risky, and we did what we did last year." There was a sadness that permeated her voice, tangible, that sorrow. "Dinner and cake alone, presents too." She lifted her wrist, as if showing him; a thin golden bracelet studded with diamonds and rubies twinkling in the lights from within the penthouse. "Pretty, isn't it?" It was, really it was, but it hadn't been something she'd wished for. Her arm fell and her fingers played in the currant of the air, the slender digits twirling within the wind. "I know I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn't help it. I trust him, every time he makes a promise, hoping this time will be different." She snorted, the sound derisive and unamused. "The very definition of insanity." Her eyes closed and her laid her cheek against the strong bicep of Westly, letting the cold leech into her skin, where she rested, the stone of his arm grew warm from her own heat. She rested like that for a while, until she was trembling from the cold. Slowly she pulled back. "Oh! I forgot, I saved you a cupcake. I will be right back"
She often left Westly treats; cookies, cakes... you name it. While she knew he wasn't the one eating them, they did vanish each night. Crumbs the only remnant of her little acts of friendship. Birds, or perhaps mice.. but it comforted her to think it was Westly eating the treats she left him. Mallory's love language was giving gifts. Turning she walked back inside, leaving the door open. In her wake the scent of her perfume lingered, the warmth of sandalwood and Oud. Coming back she held a simple, yet decadent looking cupcake. The rich chocolate cake topped with a thick, fluffy chocolate buttercream. A drizzle of dark chocolate and a black and white tuile on top. She set it beside his knee, before stepping up onto the railing so she could press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for being my friend, Westly. I don't really know what I would do without you..."
*★*――――*★**★*――――*★**★*――――*★**★*――――*★*
Little did Mallory know that there was reason for concern when it came to her safety. Her father had not shared them with her, thinking to spare her the worry. Perhaps had she known, she might have noticed the little drone hovering above her as she left the cupcake for Westly. Perhaps she wouldn't have changed into her nightgown before the window of her bedroom, normally unafraid of anyone being able to see her. She might have slept lighter, listening for sounds of people breaking in. There were so many perhaps, mights and maybes had she been aware. Sometimes keeping people in the dark is not what is best for them. So when dark clad men repelled down onto her balcony, Mallory was fast asleep. The soft breaking of glass and the crunch of boots along it lost to her as she dreamed. Alone, unarmed with her guards dead, Mallory was very much in danger. Shifting in her sleep, she rolled to her back, her dark ahir spilling over the emerald of her sheets, causing the advancing men to pause.