Twisted Fates - Risi & Caspian

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian Thurston lived a privileged life by all accounts. His family was descended from rich land-owners turned rich industrialists. They dealt in cottons and wools being gathered in the America's and from sheep in Scotland. They owned land throughout England and, by the Queen's good graces, were contracted to provide the uniforms for both Buckingham Palace and for Her Majesty's Royal Navy. The Thurston family was blessed with money and with an uncanny head for business.

Vivian inherited the family business at 18 when his parents passed away from influenza. He survived by leaving for Scotland to visit some of the land they had purchased for raising sheep. Unfortunately for Vivian, while he was in Scotland his parents had died and nearly lost the family fortune to an uncle who claimed that he was entitled to the family fortune due to Vivian's young age. Vivian had come out on top, but it was close. Vivian was forced to hire his Uncle as a retainer.
Three days before Vivian's 21st birthday, in an act of desperation, pushed Vivian into a spinning mill. His left arm was broken and twisted and the surgeons of the day were able to re-set the bones but at the cost of most of the skin on his arm being a mass of scar tissue and distorted musculature. The uncle was imprisoned for 10 years. He did not survive imprisonment and died in prison of syphilis, which he contracted from one of his fellow inmates.

Prior to the accident Vivian was an attractive young man. He was tall, over 6 feet and he was slender but not skinny. He had fine black hair that hung to his shoulders in a clean pony-tail that was always tied back well. His nose came to a point above large lips that were apt to smile at almost any occasion. His chin was soft and narrow. His green eyes were ringed with a touch of blue at the center near the pupils. Vivian was teased by many of his schoolmates for being somewhat girlish in his appearance, but Vivian didn't mind. He was growing up to be a gentleman, not some coal miner from up north.

But that was so long ago. Vivian had spent the following 10 years in London spending 14 hours a day hidden away in his office in the factory. The source of all of his misery and the only refuge he had from the world outside. His house was an hour away by carriage on the outskirts of London. He traveled only during the dark hours of the day, not wanting to meet the eyes of people who saw his grotesque scars. He would leave his house in the wee hours of the morning and arrive at the factory at 6:00AM promptly and he would not leave until dusk around 8:00pm. Only his personal secretary, his lawyer and his driver saw his face with any regularity.


Three or four times a year when he felt he had something worth celebrating he would stop in at a pub, sit in a dark corner and have a few ales. If he was feeling particularly good he pay for everyone's tab and be on his way. Tonight was the anniversary of his uncle's death in prison. It was a night to celebrate.

 

[Risi]

The whirring of the gears and sewing machines snaked their way into Nell's ear, slowly but surely causing her to hear nothing but it as she worked. The job was a bit dangerous at times, but she was proficient after a year or so. Some of the women had twisted, gnarled fingers but she had yet to reach that point yet. As her lithe hands worked over the sewing loom her mind went to her father, wondering if he was at work or if he was off squandering what little check she was going to bring home at the end of the week. Most likely the latter. She sighed softly and focused her attention back to the length of fabric she was attaching to another. Soon, the lunch bell tolled and all of the women stopped their work to go to the cafeteria, where instead of the noises of machines it was blabbering women.

Feeling the tug of her blonde hair from behind, Nell turned to find her co-worker and friend Mae, a tall brunette who was a bit too nosy for Nell but they chatted anyways. As they ate, they talked idly about the weather, gray, and their lives, also gray. Of course, Mae would have found Nell's predicament not so dull, but she wasn't going to share her family secret here, or with her. It was for the privacy of her mind, and whomever her father gambled with that night. Her eyes moved to the large blind-drawn windows atop the factory, unfortunately so did Mae's. "You always glance up there, why so curious?" Mae asked with a gossip's grin, but did not pause before she continued. "I've heard that he steals women from the streets and makes passionate love to them before he kills them because they've seen his face," she added with a giggle just as the work bell rang. Nell sat frozen for a moment from what had just come from her friend's mouth, but then quickly composed herself and went to work.

As the day faded to night, Nell found her way home along the darkened streets. After being home for a generous amount of time, time enough to put dinner on the table and for her father not to show, Nell knew she was going to have to go search for him again tonight. With a slight huff, she gathered her light blue work skirts and left her home. About an hour later, she stumbled upon her father. It happened to be in the back alleyway of a pub, at knife point of a man, who Nell assumed was a bookie of sorts. Nell whimpered to herself quietly and took a deep breath as she approached the two men. "Papa!" she called out harshly as he spotted her coming from the side. "Nell, you get away now. Go home!" he called back to her, but it was too late then. The bookie had caught sight of the fair beauty of his client's daughter.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the dirty man asked as he jabbed the knife in the air of Nell's general direction.

"Just leave her out of this," her father said to the bookie, "This is my debt." Then to Nell, "Go home sweetheart."

"Papa..." she tried as she stepped closer, then turned to the bookie, "Look, I get my paycheck at the end of the week, I'll pay you then. How much does he owe?"

"About as much as your fine piece of arse would bring me in," he told her with a grin just before he stabbed her father in the stomach. Nell gasped and moved to help her father, even if it was straight into the arms of his killer. "Papa!" she cried out, but she never reached him. A swift blow to the back of her head with the blunt end of the man's knife subdued her quickly, her small body crumpling to the ground in a haze.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian's carriage came down the road clip-clopping towards the inn. It was a dirty, filthy pub full of ruffians, gamblers and prostitutes. In a perfect world Vivian wouldn't set foot within the neighbourhood, let alone into this hovel of a pub. There were three reasons Vivian came here to celebrate every once in a blue moon.

One was the prostitutes who frequented the establishment would come to him and offer their services. Vivian never accepted their company for the night, but it was nice for a woman to talk kindly to him so he would buy them a drink or two to listen to their stories. Inevitably one would ask to see his face and he would refuse until, weary with the charade, he would tip his cloak back revealing the mass of scar tissue bisecting his face. The left, smooth and handsome like the boy he was before the accident. Fate was cruel and though one side of his face never aged, the other was a grotesque mask of red and twisted flesh. The doctor said it was a miracle that he kept his eye, but the iris was bleached to a dull-grey and the vision was painful if he focused too hard.

The second reason was because many of the men here worked for him in some capacity, although none of them knew. It was a small kindness to ensure that they had at least one night every so often when they could go home and cheer at their fortune.

The third reason was the most important. No-one asked questions. No-one asked who he was or what happened to his face or how he had enough money every so often to pay for the drinks. As a matter of fact the bar tender and he had an agreement that no-one was to know. The bartender would stop charging for drinks as soon as Vivian entered the pub and sent a bill (only slightly inflated) to the mill the following week. Vivian could come and go and have his night of fun.

There was a table of gamblers in one of the dark booths in the back. Vivian never gambled, but he listened to their coarse banter and their cursing. He might have joined them one day, but today he just wanted to drink to his Uncle. May the poor bugger get a pox in hell from Satan himself, he grimaced and took a heavy draft of warm, flat ale.

As the evening progressed a fight broke out from one of the booths and a man went for the door. Another man stepped in front of him and helped him through the door, following. Vivian knew it was going to get rough in there very soon so he nodded to his driver who went and got the carriage. He pulled his cloak and walking stick from the booth and walked out the door into the poorly lit street.

He knew it would take a moment or two for the driver to get the horse and carriage, so he walked out around the corner to relieve himself of all the ale in his gut.

Suddenly he heard three voices. There was a sharp groan and a grunt followed by a soft thud. Vivian raced down the alley to find a man knelt over a woman brandishing a knife. Another man was on the ground, stabbed in the gut. As the man reached down to grab the girl he heard the sound of Vivian coming at him. As he lifted his head he heard the hissing swing of Vivian's walking stick seconds before it connected with the thug's head, dropping him to the ground. The thug lay motionless and Vivian went back to get the driver to help load the injured man and the girl into the carriage. The man had been stabbed in the Liver. It was only a matter of time before he was lost.

 

[Risi]

Nell's eyes fluttered open, seeing the roof of a carriage before them. She only had a few moments to consider what had happen to her or where she was before the blackness of her mind took over. When she woke, she would not remember being carted into the car of the carriage or the man who had saved her. Only that her father was hurt and she was most likely going to be under the strong arm of a man she did not know. The thought would make her quiver.

However, for the time being, her small body was laying within touching distance of the man she had wondered of not hours before. He could reach out and touch her blonde tresses if he pleased. Even the thin circle of her waist, or the linen fabric of her bodice which housed her ample breasts. Nell didn't know that though. She heaved small breaths as her chest sighed up and down, sleeping in a way. Her father on the other hand, was not asleep by any stretch of the imagination. His hand was clasped tightly to his person, but the blood was seeping through his fingers easily. His eyes were steely and hard as he fought a losing battle against his body. Glancing down at Nell, a tear dropped from his eye and he spoke in a deathly whisper to Vivian. "Please, Sir, keep her as safe as you can. She is an angel." His non-bloodied hand stroked her pale hair tenderly as he drew his last breath and his eyes shut for good.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian watched the girl, unconscious in the seat across from him. She was a pretty young thing, she had been working for him for over a year. He watched her from his office in the factory. He'd occasionally catch her stealing a glance up towards his windows, but he wouldn't dare acknowledge anyone from up in there. The old man he had seen a few times, always in the pub. He was one of the gamblers. His luck was bad, every time Vivian saw him he was being threatened or he was coughing up whatever money he had on him.

It was an unfortunate world for the gambler. Vivian knew he would be dead in minutes. The bleeding would never stop and the man would simply fall unconscious and then die. Vivian did the only thing he could, make sure the man had a warm place and a hand to hold when he passed away. Vivian wanted to lift back the hood of his cloak and look the man in the eye. He felt the sight of him would certainly scare the man and so he remained covered.

Vivian watched the man stroke the girls face tenderly and then he fell to the floor of the carriage. The last breath fell from his lips to the wooden floor and the man stopped. The man asked for his promise to keep the girl safe. What else could he do? He could not leave her in the streets, unconscious and defenseless. Vivian had his driver take the man to the hospice where the man could be dealt with. Vivian ensured there was enough money for the man to be buried respectfully, in a casket instead of thrown into a hole in the ground.

Vivian returned to the carriage where the girl was still unconscious. She really was a pretty, young girl. The type Vivian would fancy in another lifetime. He brushed her hair out of her face with his gloved left-hand. He wanted to touch her skin, to feel it's warmth but he dared not. He feared her waking up and seeing him.

Vivian instructed the driver to take him home and to help him with the girl. Vivian and the driver carried the girl to the guest room and laid her down in the large bed after removing the dust-sheets from the top of the bed. Vivian carefully removed her shoes and placed them on the floor beside the bed. His hands trembled at the thought of having a woman in the house who wasn't hired to clean the place. He had a strong desire to put a single kiss on the cheek of the girl, but dared not.

Instead he left the room, closing the door silently behind himself. He went to his study and sat down in the large chair. He filled his pipe with tobacco and smoked gently, wondering what to do.

 

[Risi]

It was near the time of day that Nell would be entering the sewing sounds of the factory when she woke with a start, her head throbbing. But rather to the bustle of the streets, or even the tattering of sewing machines she woke to the sound of birds and near silence. Certainly I'm dead, she concluded to herself as she rose in the foreign bed, looking around at unknown wallpapers and untold wonders behind the doors. With her eyes clenched shut she tried to recollect how she had arrived at such a well-dressed room. Which was when she remembered her father, and his assumed death, and the bookie. Is that where I am? Some pimp's home? she questioned as she patted herself down to make sure all of her undergarments were there. They in fact were, which made her question even further. The only thing missing were her shoes, and they were placed beside the bed.

Where on God's green Earth was she?

Her fingertips caressed the silken sheets cautiously, as if they were some magical facade. Upon sliding out of bed, her feet were met with a plush carpet that covered the room in its entirety. As the grandeur of the cell fascinated her, she wanted to be released. Her hand on the doorknob was not met with resistance though as she opened it to find an even more grand hallway which led to an entryway. There seemed to be no one around. If it was a brothel, it would have to have some girls or johns lingering about, yes? she thought, but alas, all the rooms had were fanciful decorations and clawed furniture one after the other. Her pale pink lips moved into a pout of pensiveness. Nell wanted to know what happened to her father, and where they had transported her.

Soon finding her way into an expansive kitchen, with delicious smells wafting her way, she was happy to find both food and a chef to talk to. The startled man stumbled with a gaping mouth once she caught his eye, "Quando il Maestro ha detto di aver portato a casa una giovane donna che non mi aspettavo per essere una bellezza come te! Non furtivamente su di me così, mi taglio fuori qualcosa la prossima volta! E se io avessi un coltello in mano?" The man motioned excitedly in Italian as he spoke, but Nell just stood there, not understanding a word. "I'm Nell," she tried softly, giving a curtsy with it. The Italian shook his head with a smile, "Il mio nome è Abelardo." Within that, she caught his name and that he understood English, but didn't speak it. Or perhaps he just wouldn't speak it to her. "Where am I?" she asked, but figured it would be for naught. "Sei nella casa del Maestro. Questo è tutto quello che posso dirvi," he tried with a smile.

In the master's house? she thought, but before she could continue her thought, Abelardo was handing her a baguette and motioning for her to eat it. "Thank you," she said softly as she took a few bites of the fresh bread then placed it on a plate and wandered back through the house in search of said master.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian could hear the excited Italian coming from the kitchen and pondered what to do. He never would expect the girl to understand Abelardo's explanations. He didn't want to disturb Abelardo's work and he certainly did not want the girl to see him. She was pretty and her night was hard enough, to face his face would be scary for anyone. Unfortunately, she was going to need an explanation. Someone had to tell her that her father had died. On top of that, what about his promise to the old man? He made a promise to a dying man. Surely breaking such a promise would be enough to send a man straight to hell. Vivian had already experienced hell on earth, he did not want to experience it again in death.

Vivian rang his bell and called for a butler.

The butler's knew not to look at Vivian and would stand only in the doorway as Vivian had arranged all of his chairs to face away from doors and windows. He was perpetually in the shadows. The butler arrived and inquired into the room what Master Thurston's needs were. Vivian instructed the butler to bring the girl into the study and to address him in the way the butler staff do. He thought to draw the cloak over his head, but decided in an act of vanity to not cover his long, flowing hair. His face may have been disfigured, but he was in his 30's and still maintained a full head of hair with nary a gnarled gray hair mixed in. It was where his hairline fell on right side is what repulsed everyone who saw his face.

When the butler left Vivian was left with the thought, the temptation to see the girl again, up close. There was no way for him to see her without her seeing him. She had been so close the night before. Her soft, fair skin so close he could have caressed it. Something he had longed to do with any woman for years. Vivian sighed and sat facing the cold, empty fireplace until he heard the sound of soft steps on the floor outside the study.

 

[Risi]

As Nell drifted through the home, the butler soon found her. "Where am I?" she questioned, beginning to become perturbed about the subject. The butler was older than her by about twenty years and wrinkling thoroughly, but he did not answer her. The man just simply motioned her to follow him. Pursing her lips she followed him softly, hating that she was being kept in the dark. Idly, she wondered if she would be fired because she didn't come into work that day. As they wind though the house, the two finally happen upon a study that Nell had not yet seen. Her first thought was to walk into the darkened room towards the seated figure, but the butler stopped her with an outstretched hand and a shake of his head.

"He-hello?" she stuttered through the door, just as she glimpsed the gleam of dark hair on a pair of manly shoulders. It had taken her eyes a few moments to adjust. "Can you tell me where I am? And if you don't mind, I need to leave to go to work. I may get fired if I don't show up..." she trailed off, weary and slightly frightened. Her small face was paled and her light brows were furrowed as she hoped for the best.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian's body stiffened as the voice came softly through the doorway. He hadn't heard her voice before and the soft, nervous tone was both melodic and melancholy. He listened to her talk about work and her concern. No mention of her father, she must not know. Vivian sat contemplating before speaking, a raspy sound with an underlying youthful lift to it.

"Well, for starters you are in my house. You're just outside London in Woldingham. As for work, you don't have to be there for a week. I'll see to it personally. You won't lose your job. The reason I will give your employer is a sad one. I am afraid your father was stabbed fatally last night. You were struck on the head and I found you unconscious. Your father... he didn't suffer."

Vivian spared her the grisly details of her father's death and the promise he made to him as he expired.

"I understand you work in a textile mill. May I be so bold as to ask your name? I am going to have to make some arrangements dear and if I had your name they would be so much easier. My name is Vivian, Vivian Thurston at your service."

Vivian envisioned in his head rising from his seat and walking over to her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it in a gentlemanly fashion and sighed inwardly. Life was cruel and this woman coming into his life in this way was one of the cruelest turns he'd ever received.

 

[Risi]

At the mention of her father, Nell's voice caught in her throat. Unable to convey much she looked to the ground sadly as she listened to the rest of his words to her. When she finally gathered herself, a few tears falling silently upon her cheeks, she spoke softer than the first time. "Thank you for letting me stay here," she paused, "You can he didn't suffer." Another pause, "Was he taken care of? His body that is?" It seemed as if since she had woke the bruise on her head must have aided in the emotional response to her father's assumed death when she first remembered it. Now, however, it hit her considerably harder, but she attempted to push through it to speak.

With a sniffle she spoke again, "Thank you very much Sir Thurston. I appreciate your kindness. My name is Nell Poliano; I hope that helps you contact my employer." Her voice faded off slowly as more tears fell upon her cheeks. Looking to the butler with bleary eyes she asked in a whisper, "Can you show me where the room I woke up in is? I would like to be alone." Her porcelain face was saddened and she longed to be held by her father to attempt to soothe her. But now, that could not happen. "Thank you again, Sir Thurston," she added as she moved to follow the butler to the said room.

Once in the room, she moved to the adjacent bathroom and began to run the water in the tub. Sadly, she removed her clothes from her slight body and folded them before she stepped into the steaming water. It was there that poor Nell began to whimper and sob for the loss of her father.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian called his butler and sent him to gather up the necessaries for Ms. Poliano. He also had the butler tell the shiftmaster at the textile mill to ensure that she was kept on the roster with pay. He pondered what he could do honour the request of the dying man. Vivian sighed, wondering what he could do and not reveal himself to the poor girl. At least she had somewhere to stay for the evening.

Vivian scratched the scar on his face, cursing the constant itch that never went away. He knew that grey England was the only place he could stay where the itch was manageable. Anywhere dryer and his skin was prone to cracking and bleeding. He could tell that rain was on the air tonight, his arm never lied to him. He set to setting up the dining room for Ms. Poliano and instructed Abelardo that his meals were to never coincide with hers. He also instructed the house staff to install a mirror in the bathroom adjacent to her room. There hadn't been a mirror up on any of the walls in nearly 10 years.

How long would she stay there? Vivian didn't know. He would let her stay for the week, knowing she had nowhere else to be. After that he would determine what to do with her if she didn't have a plan by then. Vivian secretly dreamed of her staying. The comfort of a woman in the house was warming, but knowing she would be repulsed by him was a torture he had a hard time bearing.

He wanted to write out instructions for her, to ensure that she didn't go anywhere and see him unprotected by dark rooms or his cloak. Unfortunately he wasn't certain is Ms. Poliano could read. Rather than waiting to find out he would wait for her in the study until she was ready to see him.

 

[Risi]

Soon, the water ran cold and Nell ran out of tears to cry. Upon that realization she pulled herself from the golden clawed tub and pulled herself into a plush towel, not bothering to dry herself but rather just cover her body. Had there of been a mirror to look in, she would have found her eyes puffy and read, her blue eyes a bit bloodshot from the crying, and her pale skin flushed from the warm water. However, she did not notice a lack of a mirror as she perched in the towel on the bed, staring at her toes. Though she longed to get dressed, she did not want to put her work clothes back on, or the corset for that matter, before she went to bed. Perhaps she could ask someone to bring her clothes the next time she left the room. As the thought moved from her mind, there was a knock on the door. "I'm here with a mirror for you," a small voice said through the door. Nell wanted to ignore it as she was both indecently dressed and she just wanted to crawl into bed and cry herself to sleep. That wasn't an option though as a small burly woman opened the door just a crack until she saw Nell, sorrowful and dripping like a wet cat. "Oh, dear," the woman said softly and brought the bathroom sized mirror into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Once the woman had installed the mirror, she moved to Nell. "Oh dear," she repeated and grabbed an additional towel and began squeezing Nell's long blonde locks into it. When she finished she told her she would return in a moment. When she did, she was holding an old nightgown, one of Vivian's mothers but Nell didn't know that as the maid pulled it over her head and tugged the towel away from her body. "Thank you," Nell told the woman softly and crawled under the covers of the bed. The maid shook her head though, "You're welcome, but I fear you should probably return to the Master's study. I think he has some instructions for you." Nell sighed heavily and moved her feet to the side of the bed like molasses.

Eventually, she made her way down to the study. Her eyes were tired from the crying and her throat was dry from the same. Hovering at the door she quietly commented, "Do you always stay in here?" she paused for his response then prompted, "The maid said you wanted to see me?"

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian had heard the girl sobbing and knew that she must be extremely distraught. He instructed the maid to look in on the girl when she came out of the bath. Part of him wanted to go in there to comfort the girl on his own, but knew that would end with tragic results. An even deeper part of him wanted to look upon her with her wet hair. Perhaps to see her clothed in a towel and excusing himself from the room after seeing her bare shoulders or calves.

The sweet scent of wet, clean hair permeated the room and Vivian stirred from his thoughts. He thought he heard her say something in the doorway, but put the thought aside as she inquired with the maid's instruction.

"Your employer has agreed to give you a week off, with pay in light of the events regarding your father. I have sent one of my servants for some of your personal effects at your father's house and you shall stay with me for a week. This will allow you to deal with your father's affairs and your own. You are welcome to stay for the week, and longer if you find it necessary. I do have a small list of rules however.

If I am in my study you are not to come more than two steps past the doorway.

If you are going to walk around the house you are welcome, but you are not to enter my bedroom on the third floor. You have access to more or less the rest of the house.

You may ask the servants if you require anything and if something needs to be purchased for your comfort it will be my role as host to pay for it.

Any questions you have about me I will answer if you are in the same room as me. Do not ask the servants. They know that my secrets are my own and they know the punishment for speaking about my business."

Vivian paused for a moment. He didn't want to scare the girl, but the rules were for her own good. He did not want to scare her away as she was the only company he had had for nearly a decade. Even his own family didn't visit him anymore. He longed for human contact with someone and wanted to be able to look her in the eye, but knew he could not.

"I know this all must be a terrible shock and with the tragic loss of your father I can understand you have some questions. Please wait until you're in a better frame of mind. Can you read and write?" Vivian asked, knowing the majority of the women in his textile factory could not.

 

[Risi]

Nell listened intently as he listed out her rules and regulations of the house for her. Her head sunk sadly as she almost felt like a child again. For the entirety of her adult life, Nell had been the one in charge, but that was to change now. Part of her longed to be in a position to attest his rules, but she knew she wasn't. It could have been worse though, she could have been forced to whore her herself out that very minute by a crueler man. Instead, this man was mysterious but he had negotiated to get her a week off work with pay, something very unheard of. "I can read," she told his proudly but gave pause to her next statement, "But I am not able to write." Her body moved to return to the bedroom that had been deemed her's, but she stopped and looked in the direction of Mr. Thurston, "I just wanted to say thank you again, and that I will adhere to your rules to the best of my ability." She paused again though, one of her fingers moved to twirl up into her hair nervously. Nell wanted to ask why he hid in that shadows and didn't introduce himself like a proper gentleman, but it seemed his actions besides that were more than gentlemen she had known so she kept her rude thought to herself. Instead she asked, "Is there anything I can do for you in return for your care?"

Even though her father had been a drunk and a gambler, Nell had been raised to be a lady and not some rude woman of the streets, although that was technically her background. Before her mother fled, she had even gone to the heights of teaching Nell to read to help her understand the world. However, she left before teaching her to write, leaving her slightly in the dark. Nell knew that her mother was a flight risk and her father was a lost cause long before she had lost either of them, so it wasn't really a surprise to her. Did it hurt for a while? Yes. But would she let it haunt her? No. Neither of her parents would have wanted that for her, so she pushed through the pain and attempted to be kind to the man who had saved her. It was rational.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian paused at her offer, surely he hadn't expected anything. He certainly did not want to make her feel like the only reason she was here was out of obligation. Vivian considered his answer carefully, mulling it over in his head.

"I appreciate your consideration of my rules. I am not an easy man to share a roof with, I realize, but I have my reasons. There is no obligation for being here in this house and you are welcome here, despite the peculiar rules. I cannot ask for anything and you are free to come and go, but... if you would, on occasion, keep me company here in my study from time to time; I would consider myself well compensated for something any decent man would do."

Vivian wanted desperately to see the look on her face. Her expression, whether she smiled or whether she frowned. The problem with not looking at someone's face was you could not read their expression. All Vivian had was tone. He could tell when the conversation started there was nervousness, pain, and shock. As she made the offer he heard something in her voice soften, yet there was still an underlying hardness in her voice. A result of a hard life.

Vivian was also impressed that she could read. Not many of the women in his factory could read. If she could read she may also be able to learn to write. If she could write he might be able to find her a role as a clerk. The pay was marginally better, but the work was far less demanding. Vivian would have liked to teach her himself, but that would mean being to close. Now that he had the company, he didn't want to scare it away.

For a moment Vivian pictured the girl as she appeared to him in the carriage. Her Blonde hair and her heaving chest as she slept. Vivian sat for a moment, coveting the girl who was less than 15 feet away. And yet, she might as well be in India for all his luck. He held back a sigh.

"Also, you can to learn to write? I can have one of my servants teach you. It's a most important skill and it will open many opportunities that are currently closed to you. I will arrange it for you."

Vivian hoped at least that if she left after a week she would have reason to return to his house. Perhaps he may reveal himself to this girl one day. The first woman who wasn't a servant in over 9 years. Vivian put the thought aside and waited for the girl to depart so that he could retire to his room.

 

[Risi]

Her thick lashes batted downwards as she listened to his words, he seemed to be a sad man. It was tragic, she thought, that a man in such a wonderful house could be in such a downtrodden mood. Hopefully, they could somehow they could help each other. Her lips pursed slightly, but she let them unpucker and licked them lightly as he offered to have someone teach her to write. Her sullen tone quickly turned upbeat, slightly at least, "That would be wonderful." Her smile, though slight was still noticeable in her speech. Nell took her two steps into the doorway, hands clasped in front of her nightgown and smelling of rich flowers. "If you wanted," she began but then stuttered a bit nervously, "I co-could spend some time with you now in the study. I don't know what you have planned for your evening though." To Nell, Mr. Thurston seemed rather lonely, and as night had fallen she had found herself feeling the same way. Why go to separate areas in a house rather than chat in the same room when you were lonesome. It seemed pointless to Nell, but, so had some of his rules.

Her wide blue eyes scanned the darkness, still only finding the outline of his head in the darkness, but searching fruitlessly for more. She wanted to see his face, talk to him while looking into his eyes to convey her thankfulness for his saving of her. However, it seemed that it would never happen. "Perhaps I could get us a small snack?" she tried, and moved to make another step closer but caught herself before she did. One of her hands moved a drying strand of hair from her face and behind her ear, pondering if she had perhaps overstepped her boundaries with him already. Nell hoped not.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian liked the idea of spending time with Nell, it was such a sweet offer and the sound of her voice was lyrical and kind. Perhaps he could spend his time talking with her for a while. He pondered what questions she would ask him. She would want to see his face eventually, but he was not ready for that. He may never be ready for that. He also knew it might happen anyways. He would have to be careful.

"I think a snack would be lovely Ms. Poliano. But please, have my servants bring it in. In the meantime you can tell me about yourself. In exchange I can tell you a little about myself." Vivian said gratefully. "Your offer of company is most kind, it has been many a year since I have had much company at all."

Vivian rang a bell and waited for the servants to arrive.

"Just tell them what you want and they will bring it. Have them bring up a bottle of wine as well from the cellar. They will know what I want. There is a fine collection in the cellar as well, so if you would like a glass please tell them."

Vivian loved a good bottle of wine. It was one of his few pleasures. He found that after a couple glasses of wine he was as cheerful as he was as a boy. And it loosened his tongue, something he had learned to guard since he was 18. Perhaps he could share a little more of himself with the young lady in the room.

 

[Risi]

Once she had put in her and Mr. Thurston's order with the servant that scurried up. Slowly, Nell walked to a chair that faced away from Thurston and sat in it, hoping he wouldn't mind the few steps closer that she took. She could smell the slight musk of a man when she moved deeper into his study and part of her liked it enough to want to move closer. Nell knew she was already pushing her limits so she didn't want to push them more. "Would you like to tell me about yourself? Just a bit?" she asked with a slight laugh.

As she waited for his response, a different servant came bearing a plate of fruit for each of them and a bottle of wine with two glasses. Nell thanked the man with a smile and took the serving platter from him. Once she took her plate of fruit, she turned and placed the tray on a table between the two of them. "I won't peek," she told him as she sat back down in the chair and covered her eyes in a comical fashion. She knew that it wasn't a laughing matter to him though.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian sat, paralyzed. There was no way of knowing what she was toying with. His desire to see her was excruciating. She stepped deeper into the room and he thought to correct the behavior, but then he should have thought to have had someone manage the room so that she could do so comfortably.

She didn't peek, as she had promised. He gathered a glass of the Claret and the fruit and returned to his chair. He was quick about it, but certainly not rushed.

"About myself, hrmm?" Vivian pondered. "Well, I have been living here since I was a child. This place is the home of my father and my father's father, though they are all gone. All but myself. We were lucky to be landholders for the last 200 years. It worked out nicely, giving us the chance to make enough money to start some textile companies. We would purchase wool from the people who rented our farms and we turn it into clothing and fabrics. We've done quite well, as you can see.

As for myself, I am a battered old man. The world has not been kind to me, in spite of all the opulence you see in the house. I was the unfortunate one. I survived the influenza outbreak, which in turn gave me all this."

Vivian knew that she wouldn't understand without seeing the scars or the disfigured arm. But that was fine. Vivian knew what he was saying, even if miss Poliano did not.

"I know you want to see more of me, but I am afraid that I cannot allow that. It will be best for the both of us. It has been a decade since I last had company, and I would not want to scare you away now that you're here.

In the meantime, miss Poliano, what about yourself? How did you come to be where you are in life?"

 

[Risi]

The dots did not connect, even with his mention of the textile companies he now owned. It wasn't that Nell was too dumb to catch them, but there was not enough evidence for such and accusation as that one, yet. But instead on telling him about herself, she tugged gently on the stem of a cherry from her mouth, savoring the fresh fruit. "You do not sound old," she offered softly, "Nor, does the back of your head look it." The corners of her mouth tugged upwards, but she then moved into her own tale, not letting him get a word in otherwise to her statement. "My father was always the gambler, so the little income my mother brought home was quickly spent away. Once I finished my little schooling that was required, by then my mother had left us, I was hired as a worker in a mill and as my nightshift, I tried to bring my father home without any debt. I suppose I wasn't too good at my second job, eh?" her voice turned sad at the end, but she let out a small sigh and bit into another cherry. As Nell contemplated her next words, she finished off the cherry and stared into the woodwork of the crown molding.

In a slight whisper she added, "I've seen a lot of things Mister Thurston, you'd be surprised. I don't think you're going to scare me away from this beautiful house, and the opportunity to learn to write. Seeing as it is your house, and I am simply a guest, I will adhere to your rules. But please know that I don't scare easily, nor do I run from things I'm scared of." Once she finished, she turned her face downward into her plate and sucked upon her pointer finger lightly, it tasting of berry juices. Hopefully she hadn't overstepped her boundaries with him yet.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

"Please, call me Vivian. It would be so nice to hear someone call me by my name, rather than my title. It's been so long since I have had a guest." Vivian hoped that the pain in his voice didn't ring through.

He toyed with the idea of letting her in, letting her see his face but knew he wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready to see the look of shock on her face and the pity that followed. Vivian did not want to be pitied but he did not want to be feared either. He would reveal himself to her in his own time; when he was ready.

"I daresay I doubt I could scare you easily, but I have no doubt that I could scare you nonetheless dear Miss Poliano. And you're quite right about my age, I am just older than my years make me out to be." Vivian chuckled. "I've lived like a hermit for over a decade and when you've only got your thoughts to yourself you age much quicker."

Vivian got up and paced in front of his chair. He wanted to see her golden tresses again. He did so, slowly. He walked behind her chair and placed his hands on it's high back. He could see the blonde hair wet, clinging to itself. The smell was enough to make him stumble slightly. He hadn't been this close to a woman in 10 years, at least not one who had recently taken a bath. Vivian silently inhaled and moved back to his seat. He thought he saw the young girl shift as though to try and get a look at him, but that was his own fault for getting out of his chair. She could not make much of him from the chair she was in anyways, so all was well.

"I think it fair to warn you as to why I avoid the eyes of everyone. I was horribly disfigured in the prime of my life. I have not grown any more lovely over the years, let me tell you. I am scarred and broken. I would prefer to keep myself hidden at this time, if you please." Vivian prepared her as best he could. No-one was ever truly prepared to see his face for the first time. Inevitably they all flinched, or blanched or even ran, trying not to vomit. He had done his best. When and if he did reveal himself, she would be shocked but at least she would know not to expect a lovely face.

 

[Risi]

It was an instinct to turn, but Nell pressed it down. Every fiber of her being told her to turn and look at him, but she suppressed it. There was something deeper that told her it would be bad if she did. With a deep breath she closed her eyes and kept facing forward. He was standing behind her chair now, she could feel the heat of his body on the back of her neck, the small hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a cold chill moved through her spine. The ruffle of clothes moved back to his seat and Nell found herself letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding. It was almost a dare to see if she would be scared by him, but she knew she would win that dare. Nell had seen women sucked into sewing machines before.

"Vivian," she started hesitantly, letting his first name roll in her mouth softly, "I'll be here for you when you want to show me." Only a few hours after meeting him, Nell was sure there was something she could do for him. What, she wasn't sure quite yet, but she knew it was something. Perhaps just being there for him to talk to. A yawn moved through her, but she stifled it before it could escape. She thought about excusing herself, but she wanted to stay and continue to listen to his velvet voice talk to her. "So, what do you do all day?" she asked, figuring he worked or something to pass his time.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian listened to the yawn, knowing the poor girl must be tired. It had been a long day especially getting a verification that her father was deceased. Vivian considered asking her if she wanted to retire for the evening, but when she asked what he did all day he decided he could entertain her for a little longer. Perhaps it was just the wine, a good red always made Vivian a little tired.

"Well, for the most part I sit in a lofty office. It's poorly lit, but I have a good view of the staff of my plant. I can see which girls have busy hands and which have busy mouths. I sit there and I envy them. They all have families and they socialize. They find happiness in the smallest of things. Meanwhile I sit in my office and I hide away. Sundays I typically go over my accounts and my holdings to make sure everything is in order. I suppose that my family's fortune is all I have left of my actual family. Perhaps that is why I work so hard at maintaining it." Vivian suddenly found the family business more of a burden, something he would never have dared to think in the past.

Vivian wondered why the girl decided to stay in the room. Most people would have lit themselves on fire just for the excuse to be out of his awkward and brooding presence. Vivian liked the courage of the girl, in any fashion. The longing to meet her eye came over him again, and as before he held himself in check. Something shifted inside and he began to think about how he could reveal himself slowly, or at least see again her before she saw him.

 

[Risi]

As the last of his sentence trailed off, Nell found her will to stay awake severely cut short. So much so, that she relaxed her head back into the chair and closed her eyes. Usually, she would sit up with worry about something every night, but perhaps it was the bump on the head from the previous night. Nell was out like a light. The plate of fruit sat in her lap, perched between her knees steadily, while the glass she was supposed to be drinking from sat empty on the tray it first came in on. It was not well for a young woman to drink in the presence of a man.

With her blue eyes in a deep slumber, her chest rose and drifted back downwards with a steady rhythmic pattern. Her lips were slightly agape, a picture not to unlike when she had been knock unconscious. If she was in later times, they might of thought her to have a concussion. Never the less, she did not speak up as Vivian finished speaking, though she did hear most of it, most likely hinting at the fact that she had fallen asleep. Had she of been awake, she would hope that her new host wouldn't have thought her rude for such an action.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Vivian heard Nell slump against her chair, unconscious. Vivian sighed, but wanted to make sure she was asleep. He did not want her to awaken and see his face unprepared. That might scare the girl half to death. He crept around to the side of the chair, and watched her from the side for a moment. He sat, taking in her features and watching her calm face. Her face was smooth and gentle. Perhaps it was the sleep. Vivian had seen her in the plant, looking up at his office, but there was such a distance and she was just a face he saw from above. She was one of the best workers he had, but that didn't make much of a difference to him. Never would he have imagined being so close to her.

He watched her twitch involuntarily just a little as she sank deeper into sleep. Vivian started at this wanting to get up and run, knowing it would only cause her to wake. He pondered for a moment what to do. He contemplated calling one of the servants, but that would make more noise. He sat, watching her chest heave as she breathed deeply in gentle sleep.

He walked over and got down on one knee, looking at her directly. She was pretty, yes, very pretty. Her slight figure was complimented by her soft features and blonde hair. If only he could look her in the eyes. What did they look like? What was it like to be caught in her gaze and to hear her as she looked him in the eyes. Vivian sighed longingly.

He walked over when he was certain she had found deep sleep and picked her up, his strong arm under her legs holding her up. His other arm was nearly as strong, but it hurt to use sometimes. He nestled her head into his shoulder and walked gently up the stairs. The hallway and staircase was not lit, making him secure that he would not frighten her. He pushed open her door and laid her down on the bed. As her legs collapsed into the bed her nightshirt crawled up her thighs revealing her smooth flesh. Vivian pulled the shirt down, but could not resist doing so with his fingers inside the hem of the nightshirt; tracing his fingers gently across her skin as he did so. The effect on his body was immediate and surprising. He stood, ashamed of his weakness and the eagerness of his flesh.

He walked out of the room and went into his own, dreaming of the feel of her flesh against his.