Chapter Text
“Lenore, old boy! Come on, out of bed with you. If I let you lie in it any longer, you’ll stay there ‘til I turn ten thousand!”
The boy in question groaned and turned to face the wall as Maieron strode through the door. He took one look at the vaguely elf-shaped pile of blankets, tilting his head in consideration for a moment, before grabbing the corner of the blanket pile, and successfully dragging it– along with the elf in its comfortable confines- onto the hard marble floor.
Lenore sat up, casting an irritated glare at his friend.
“I thought I already told you I wasn’t in the mood for anything today.” The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end, humming with that familiar electric feeling that revealed itself in his anger.
Maieron simply rubbed his hands together in anticipation, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned down and offered Lenore a hand.
“You’d better get in the mood quick then. Because you’re my plus-one to the largest party of the era.”
The other boy accepted his outstretched hand, but gave him a rather skeptical look as he sat back down on his (now bare) bed.
“That sounds like the overstatement of the era. And if it’s so big, how come I didn't receive an invitation?”
Maieron looked him up and down with a laughing look in his eyes, “shouldn’t you know the answer to that by now? I think every single person in and outside of my social circle thinks you’re still in a jail cell somewhere.”
Lenore sat forward, a retort already on his tongue, but Maieron simply held his hands up in surrender.
“Peace, my friend! Peace! I don’t mean it, you know that. But you aren’t exactly popular anymore. Not after what happened with. . er- him at any rate.” The blonde boy looked at Lenore cautiously, as if he were a ticking bomb that may go off at any minute. Lenore simply rolled his eyes.
“I thought I told you, all that had already been sorted. And you can say ‘Kodas.’ I’m not going to implode just from hearing his name.”
Maieron shrugged, “well, I just wasn’t sure, considering you’ve been grieving him by rotting in your bed for-”
“I am not–” he stood forward, grabbing the other boy by the collar– “grieving my falling out with Kodas. He’s practically dead to me.”
Maieron coolly loosed Lenore’s grip on the front of his shirt, “He nearly was dead to you in a very literal way. But enough with all that heartbreak nonsense. It’s high time we got you back out into the love scene!”
Lenore scoffed, “Right. And who would be willing to so much as speak to me now? According to you, I have no chance at a love life ever again.”
“I never said that–”
“You didn’t have to,” Lenore shoved his way past him, making his way to the window, “I think we both know I’ve made it very clear to everyone in your ‘social circle’ just what kind of a person I am.” He looked down at one of his hands out of habit, tracing the concentric rings on the back of his palm.
Maieron simply sighed, “come on, now.” He grabbed one of Lenore’s arms, painstakingly dragging the unwilling elf towards the door. He fought some, but ultimately gave up when they reached the stairs.
“Pick up the pace now, Rhea is in the courtyard, and they made it very clear that being late is not in her books.”
Lenore paused on the first few steps, only to be pulled back into motion by Maieron, who still had a firm grip on his arm. “How come I am your plus-one if Rhea’s here?”
“You’re my plus-one because Rhea received their own invitation. We both happen to know the host quite well,” Maieron turned to face Lenore as they reached the bottom of the staircase. He had a look about his face like he was plotting some kind of scheme.
“Real charmer of a girl, you know. Popular, funny, chaotic. She’s awfully pretty, too.”
Lenore tugged his arm out of his friend’s grasp, “if you try anything like that, I’ll kill you.” Maieron only laughed.
“Sure you will, old boy. Now, get your shoes on. Rhea’s waiting on us.”
Rhea gave both boys a once-over as they left the house. Their nose wrinkled slightly as she looked Lenore up and down. She turned to Maieron.
“You’re letting him leave looking like that?”
Lenore looked down at his rather wrinkled tunic. It wasn’t particularly fancy, just some slight embroidery on the collar and cuffs. It probably didn’t smell very good though; he’d been wearing it for the past week or so.
Maieron glanced at Lenore, before turning back to the taller elf with a slight shrug, “it isn’t a fancy celebration, ‘Cilla said there was no dress code.” Rhea rolled her eyes.
“You should still make an effort to look good. We’re going back inside.”
Maieron’s head swiveled around, “but we’ll be late–”
“Doesn’t matter.” Rhea placed a hand on Lenore’s shoulder, guiding him back to his own front door. “We’re finding you something more suitable. I will not be seen with you in your current heartbroken state.”
Lenore glared at them, “I am not–” but Rhea wasn’t listening at that point.
It only took ten or twenty minutes of Rhea’s and Maieron’s combined efforts to get Lenore into a more exceptional physical state. He was ordered into the shower while clothes were chosen for him, before being forcefully sat into a chair to have his hair dealt with.
When all was over with, he looked. . . better than before, he had to admit. It’d been three weeks since he’d violently broken things off with Kodas, and he’d stopped caring much of anything for his appearance during that time. Rhea had somehow managed to tame the mats that had formed in his hair, find a set of reasonable clothes that weren’t wrinkled, stained or torn (and covered most of the wretched tattoos, thank the stars); she’d even cleaned all the grime out from under his nails.
Not quite enough to feel normal, of course. He stared in the mirror at the mark in the center of his forehead. Going to a party with it so blatantly visible felt like holding an enormous banner: Come see how terrible of a creature I am! My very soul is tainted and evil!
“Come on then! Give us a spin.” Maieron had one hand wrapped around Rhea's waist, as the elf in question studied Lenore expertly. It looked rather funny, seeing the pair; Rhea was taller by nearly a cubit or so.
Lenore rolled his eyes and spun around half-heartedly. Rhea decreed him suitable for the party, and they left the house for the second time that evening.
Lenore felt the music long before he heard it. The vibrations hummed through the ground, traveling from the house they were headed towards, rumbling beneath the trio’s feet. He groaned.
“Stars above, the headache I’ll be going home with. . .”
Rhea laughed; a full-bodied, happy sound that felt infectious. “She does know how to throw a party, I’ll give her that much.”
Lenore stopped in his tracks, now angrier than he’d been all that evening.
“Who is this “she” you both keep talking about? This random girl who’s hosting enormous parties out of nowhere? Why do you both know people that I’ve never even heard of?”
The two elves looked at him with vague surprise; Maieron’s brow furrowed.
“You know, Len, if you made an effort to meet people, perhaps you would know all the interesting random people that Rhea and I do.”
“He’s right,” Rhea added. “Not to mention you always shut us down when we mention new people we’d like to introduce you to.” Maieron nodded along.
Lenore glanced between the two of them. He looked at the ground. This whole evening felt wrong. He was going to some random party whose host he didn't even know, wearing clothes he hadn’t worn in weeks, agreeing to all this partying and socializing. Lenore didn’t party. Lenore didn’t socialize. Maireron and Rhea knew that. He knew that. He hated it. He hated feeling separate, feeling alien. He didn’t need to worry about that horrible feeling when he was at home, with himself, by himself. But here? Out in this stranger’s courtyard? He felt exposed, strange; like his skin wasn’t his. Maieron’s and Rhea’s scrutiny didn’t help.
Maieron sighed through his nose and stepped closer to his friend, putting a hand on each of his shoulders.
“Lenore, I am begging you: please. Just give this a shot. We don’t have to stay for long, but it kills me to see you just wear away because of what happened with Kodas– and don’t give me that look, because all three of us know it’s affected you a lot more than you let on– and believe it or not, we’re dragging you into this for your own good.”
Lenore looked away as the other boy’s face took on a more sober look, “please?”
The three elves were all silent for a moment. Lenore picked at his skin absentmindedly. It took only a few seconds of that horrible quiet for him to relent.
“. . .Fine. But don’t expect me to–”
“Yes!” Maieron pumped both his fists in the air triumphantly. He took one of Lenore’s hands in his right hand, one of Rhea’s in his left. “Come on, then! No time to waste!”
He led them both in with him.
If Lenore had thought the music was loud outside, it was absolutely deafening at the source. It rattled the inside of his skull, mixed with the dizzying smell of wine, food and far too many other scents he couldn’t name; he felt a headache already settling in the back of his skull.
People milled about in every direction, the kitchen, the parlour, the dining room; he could hear people stomping around from upstairs too. Some, he vaguely recognized; most, however, he had never seen.
Maieron said something to Rhea that Lenore couldn’t catch, before letting go of both their hands and disappearing into the crowd. He watched him go, then turned to where Rhea stood, or where she had been standing just a second ago. He looked around but saw neither her, nor Maieron anywhere in sight.
Alone again.
Lenore took a long breath, before steeling his nerves and walking further into the house. He wandered for a bit, was offered a drink by one or two people; mostly, he received wary stares. The people that didn’t know him stared out of cautious curiosity; the people who did stared out of a fear, anger, distaste, or a mix of the three.
If nothing else, the lack of conversation made it easier for him to appreciate his surroundings, as much as he could with the music blaring so loud. Whoever this mystery hostess was, her parents must have been very well off. The building itself screamed luxury, with high ceilings, arches, columns and murals. Everything was high-end and fine quality. It all sparkled, as though it had been thoroughly cleaned just before the party was held. It was slightly irritating, not because Lenore was particularly poor– his family was settled and sustained as it were– but because it felt like an obvious flaunt. I’ll throw a terribly loud messy party in my parent’s palace of a home, just because I can! Whoever this girl was, Lenore wasn’t sure he wanted to meet her.
He almost didn’t register it when he felt himself run into another body. The sound of the person behind him hitting the ground with a thud snapped him out of his thoughts. He whipped around to see a girl sitting up from where she was now on the ground. She had long, curly brown hair, tied up into a tight ponytail. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were a dusty blue-grey that seemed capturing in a way. They were the color of blue mountain ranges far off in the distance; the color of misty blue smoke rising from a wildfire. The color of the wild blitzenberries that Lenore’s mother used to take him out into the valleys to pick when they were in season. Put shortly she was stunning; seemingly more stunning than any other girl Lenore had ever seen.
“Are you serious?!” Lenore snapped back to life, the girl in question was staring up at him angrily, and now he saw why. She’d been wearing a flowy blue gown, a similar dusty blue that brought out her eyes, which now had a dark wine stain running down the entire front.
“I- uh. .” He stood there awkwardly for a moment. A few people turned around to look, gathered a little bit closer. Lenore stepped forward hesitantly, offering his hand.
“I’m- I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you. Do you need a hand–” she smacked his arm away, before standing up herself.
“I don’t need your help.” She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something. He stared back, unsure of what he should do.
“Well?”
“Well. . . what?”
She stared at him incredulously, “aren’t you going to apologize?”
Lenore’s brow furrowed, who did this girl think she was? “I already did. I said I was sorry when I offered to help you up.” The girl rolled her eyes.
“Well, I’d appreciate a proper apology while I’m here standing up. Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?”
Lenore prickled slightly at that. He felt that familiar electric feeling again. Anger getting charged up inside of him, like a storm about to break over the horizon.
“What is your problem?” He dug his fingernails into his palms. She took a step forward.
“My problem is that you just ruined my favorite dress! Do you have any idea how expensive good clothes are these days?”
Lenore took a step forward in return, “maybe you should’ve moved out of my way.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said maybe you should’ve moved–”
SMACK
The entire side of Lenore’s face burned with a stinging numbness, he looked back at her again, rage boiling over.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar blonde boy elbowing his way towards them.
“Oh! Lenore, I was going to introduce you. This is the girl I was telling you about! Lucilla, this is–”
CRACKLE. POP.
The back of Lenore’s palm met the girl's face as an electric charge coursed through his body and met the point of contact. She fell backwards, and for a moment, everything was still.
Then, she sat up from her daze, began shouting something Lenore couldn’t make out. His ears were ringing as he stared down at his hand. Involuntary tears were streaming down her face. Two people had their hands on his shoulders and arms and back, dragging him away, where to, he didn’t know. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face. The tears, the expression of fear, of distrust, of anger. He’d seen it in thousands of people before her. It shouldn’t feel different. Why did it feel different?
Somewhere behind him, he heard what sounded like Maieron, yelling to someone, he thought he heard Rhea too, but he couldn’t hear any words.
He felt his body hit the cobblestone of the courtyard outside. He felt rain. When did it start raining? The sky was clear with stars when he’d arrived.
There was more yelling, the sound of someone running. Maieron was sitting in front of him; his face was blurry. Why would his face be blurry? That didn’t make any sense. A tall figure stood behind him. Rhea?
He couldn’t feel anything anymore, didn’t want to feel anything anymore. All he could think about was his anger and his hurt. All he could envision was that girl’s face, how she had looked at him. It shouldn’t feel different, so why was he acting like this?
He looked up at the sky again. It was clear with bright stars; so why did he feel the rain?