Antebellum

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"Neither do I."

She half-turned to give him an airy smile.

"Which would you prefer?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"We're all pretending to be some civilized assembly of people, and I would hope that you too would participate in the fiction."

Draxus paused in the middle of his fitting for a drink of water from a slave.

"Perhaps it is a side of you that my friend Denix has not had the chance to consider."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She seemed to consider his words, and after a moment of thought, nodded. Perhaps he was right; perhaps it would do some amount of good for Denix to see her not in the normal leathers and wear of her other life, but in the fineries of Necian cloth.

Ariadne reached for the garment that she'd so recently tossed to the side.

"You may be right," was her absent response while lifting the soft silk up for inspection once more.

"I suppose in the interest of civility... "

[Csephion Draxus]

"For reconciliation's sake."

The slaves, at last concluded in the task of fitting, brought a mirror around for the Satrap to examine himself.

"Hm, yes. That will do."

He shooed them away with a brush of his hand as he continued onward to another slave, carrying a correspondance addressed to him.

"If it were civility's sake it would perhaps be easier to explain. Politics put excessive motive into what should otherwise be trivium."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

The soft linen she'd wrapped around her waist after leaving the bath was untied and pulled off, and with a wave of her hand Ariadne declined the help of those slaves who'd begun to approach her. No, she was perfectly capable of dressing herself.

"It doesn't seem to me that you are disturbed in any way due to such a fact."

The silken gown fell over her body's curves like a shimmering cascade to accentuate her form.

"I'd actually wager that you take a bit of perverse pleasure in all of it."

[Csephion Draxus]

"Only when it confounds my enemies. Where as when I was a younger man my enemy would be some foreign prince in a distant land that I could face in honest combat, I find myself with greater shares of enemies who are denied such treatment through decorum."

Pausing to sign his mark onto a document, he dismissed the slave who had brought it to him.

"Perhaps some irony in civilized living is that there is not a decrease in violence, but only an increase in the subtlety of it's perpetration."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"I see."

Giving him an appraising look, the Glaucan stepped over to a bureau that held a myriad of jewelry; some given to her by the Satrap, others which she had from before coming to Necia. Delicately she perused the choices which lay before her. Silver? Gold? A combination of the two? Or perhaps pearls? Maybe turquoise?

Her hand fell to the familiar contours of the waterstone that she had always worn - the circle quartered by the cross. It was a comforting companion these days, and never failed to remind her of Denetion's waters whenever she stared at it.

"And Denix? Will you be including him in your scheming?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"Denix is a curiosity, in that he is honor bound and loyal. Those are unique qualities among people in my lofty company and influence, and I cannot defer his presence in my plans."

Draxus almost seemed regretful as he said this, as he paused in the middle of reading and looked up.

"I nearly trust the man. I have as of yet not determined if this is a virtue or a downfall."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

A sly grin, and Ariadne continued to examine the selection before her as her voice took on a tone that was somewhat teasing, and her head ever so slightly ticked to the side.

"If 'honor bound and loyal' men are unique to those around you in your current position... " She plucked up the waterstone pendant and a necklace of thin silver cords.

"... what sort of a man does that make you... ?"

[Csephion Draxus]

With a coy expression, Draxus rolled up the scroll at last.

"A complicated one."

He set the document aside at his desk and politely deferred the invitation Ariadne had set to evaluate the many contradictions of his station.

"Have you decided then?" He changed the subject.

"I would relish the opportunity to dissect our own many peculiarities, but as Pascias can attest, my schedule before dinner is simply too crowded."

He smiled politely as he evaded.

"I will make my leave until then. I can trust both Denix and yourself not to skewer each other in any way that would make your company unbecoming tonight, yes?"

[Ariadne Fyrian]

The Glaucan was no fool, and the look she gave him spoke volumes. His attempt at deflecting her question was temporary at best. Perhaps not now, but he would answer her at some point in the future.

She held the necklaces she'd chosen up, an unspoken request for him to clasp them around her neck.

"I shall endeavor to be the model of your Necian civility, wrapped around a core scratched out of seafaring barbarity."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus took the opportunity to adorn his Glaucan companion.

"Lovely, as always."

Done with the task, the Satrap kissed at Ariadne's cheek and brushed her hair slightly.

"I will pass the next grueling hours in hope of seeing you just as beautiful as you are now. Good afternoon, Aridane."

With a nod of his head, the Satrap exited, escorted out by a pair of slaves to a waiting litter.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Watching him leave, Ariadne took a last moment to smooth any unseen wrinkles in her clothing. There was some small amount of worry, yes, in what the immediate future would hold for her and Denix, but she'd not shirk the request made of her.

Eventually satisfied, Fyrian wandered from the Satrap's room at a casual pace. She would no doubt find Denix in the atrium, and her path was made leisurely. There was no hurry, and she traced her finger along the walls as she walked.

Erifa it seemed was nowhere to be found; no doubt gleefully enjoying her time in the waters on the coast.

Up ahead, sunlight filtered in through an open archway like some celestial gateway to the world outside, and Ariadne slowed her stride. She did not stop, but as she passed out into the open air the Glaucan pulled in a long breath in anticipation.

[Parsideon Denix]

Ahead, Denix was being attended to by two slaves of Draxus's home. He stood nude, his bare body treated with ointments where occasional battle wounds were still healing. His skin still glistened from aromatic oil that had been applied after an extensive regimen of hot and cold baths, which the Satrap had insisted upon. He obviously wanted his Imperator to look every bit as battle-capable as he could to impress company that evening.

A Glaucan surgeon inspected a laceration at Denix's side that was starting to pucker with the reassuring signs of a speeding healing. Denix gently eased him away as he saw Ariadne approach.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Her eyes she kept to his face, studying the lines of age that had not been present the last time the two had been in one another's presence. As she approached, Ariadne folded her hands before her, fingers intertwining.

An expression crossed her features then; not a smile, but not a frown either, as she slowed to a stop before him.

"I've been asked to avail myself to you," she started carefully, yet not a little bluntly, "- and become... friends."

[Parsideon Denix]

His eyes fixed on her in a severe expression.

"If that is the Satrap's wish, tell him to consider it done."

Denix spoke taut-lipped, and was obviously displeased with the second-hand suggestion.

A slave handed him a tunic, and Denix quickly slipped it over his head, cinching his midsection with a belt as he walked, brushing by Ariadne as he went inside.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

A scowl, and Fyrian turned to watch him stalk through the archway.

It was an answer she half-expected. What Draxus wished for would not be easily obtained.

She didn't follow after the Imperator - did he expect her to? Was he of the mind that she would badger incessantly after him? No. They were both rational adults in some form or another, and the Glaucan had very easily taken up the same patience that is seemed Draxus possessed.

Moving to a stone bench, she slowly lowered herself to sit.

[Parsideon Denix]

Denix re-emerged into the atrium, now with his sandals on, and a full pack arranged into a bundle at his side. He brushed by Ariadne again, this time seemingly intent on leaving the villa.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Calm green eyes followed him as he passed her by, and Ariadne lifted a hand to idle toy with the waterstone pendant she wore.

"You make this more difficult than it already is. Do not think I dwell easily on the thought of being around you."

Sweeping up to her feet, the Glaucan kept one hand on the familiar medallion she wore, and her other at her side.

"If you leave now, Imperator, the Satrap will be disappointed."

[Parsideon Denix]

"You've repeatedly demonstrated a talent for doing what it takes to stay alive. It must have been some task to keep you from being thrown off the Rock of Justice."

Denix paused and looked back.

"I spent a year bringing you to task, and many of my men paid a far more costly price than I. Don't mock me with the Satrap's disappointment. I'm intimate with the emotion."