18 February, 2002

Niccolo lifts his head. He is sitting in one of the chairs, waiting.

Niccolo says "Lisle, buon giruno."

Lisle hovers in the doorway, looking about the room, perhaps for Eric. But she sees Niccolo instead. She gives an elegantly shallow curtsy. "Niccolo."

Niccolo:

Niccolo is a hardened bravado, forged from tarnished steel. He is aged to his fourties from the lines on his face and the touch of gray in his sideburns. Auburn curls, whisked with iron, are long and bound into a tail with a leather stay. He wears a devilish goatee around his pensive smile. Steely-blue eyes are captured within a crow-marked squint.

Niccolo wears a heavy haulberk of steel and copper rings over black animal hide. The steel vambraces at his arms are etched in runes of dark and grave power. Upon his girdle is the signal of the fox and adorned with a crooked crown. Dark is his costume, for it is worn in serious times.

A heavy cavalry rapier wrought from ruddy steel and notched from harsh abuse depends from a sword-hanger that rides at his side. A circlet of silver rides at his brow.

Lisle:

Rich flaxen blonde hair, awash with pale spring colors of life, falls to the small of her back. She is about 5'8'' tall with Aryan eyes, bright blue, set into a pale complexion of peaches and cream. An oval shaped face is serene, shoulders often slouched with a casual graciousness. Intelligent, serious eyes look out from beneath the dark-rooted lashes over a delicate nose, a more generous mouth beneath, and high cheekbones.

She wears a long charcoal grey skirt textured of raw silk, calf-high boots beneath. A white shirt's buttons are blue-red opals, mirroring the same at her wrists. Opened at the throat it reveals the delicate curve of her collarbones. At her waist is a wide belt of silver samite. Depending from the end of a fine platinum chain is a starburst sigil that hugs a brilliantly blue star-sapphire.

Niccolo says "Regent is not here."

Lisle says, "I see that." She walks in anyway, going to take a seat near him. "But I've been looking for you, as well."

Niccolo says "Then sit next to me and let me know what you seek."

Lisle sits somewhat on the edge of the chair, turned to regard him. Fine blue eyes cast over his face, perhaps with a trace of familiarity. "You know Novus Ordo."

Niccolo says "Indeed."

Lisle asks, "Where is it relative to here?

Niccolo says "Past golden circle. Not as far as Earth. Not as far as De'alund."

Niccolo steeples his fingers.

Lisle asks, "And how far a walk is it from here? What's it like?" She seems genuinely curious, a light of interest in her eyes. Her hands move as she speaks, too, "What are their customs?"

Niccolo says "It is a place that is cold."

Niccolo says "You should not go to this place."

Lisle says, "I am not going to go to this place. I'm just curious. I am a friend of Syrissa and Evariste. I'm worried that's all."

Lisle says, "Can you walk there?"

Lisle's hand brushes too-long blonde bangs from her eyes.

Niccolo says "I have a long time ago."

Lisle looks away a moment, off out a nearby window, thoughtful. "How many days walk at a fast pace?"

Niccolo says "Seven or twelve."

Lisle then asks, "You think it would be dangerous for me to walk there? I wonder why. Isn't it just a shadow."

Niccolo says "A shadow that is of interest to more than meets the eye."

Lisle says, "What is the danger, Niccolo? I'm less fragile than I look, as you well know."

Niccolo says "There are horrors in Novus Ordo of an older age."

Niccolo crosses his arms over his chest.

Lisle regards him through the veil of lowered lashes.

Niccolo says "Si."

Lisle murmurs, "The horrors of men? beast? Or the ghosts of the dead?"

Niccolo says "Ghosts."

Something disturbs her, something that makes her eyes close, sinfully long lashes fanning against her cheek. When she lifts them to Niccolo she is calm. "I know ghosts. Why are these any more a danger to me than any others?"

Niccolo says "Go if you do not heed my admonitions."

Niccolo says "Your life is your own if you go this place."

Lisle says, "I'm not going to go. I just want to know where His Majesty comes from, and why it would be a danger. I have two friends who are gone now, and a man who was good to me when I needed someone to be good to me. Niccolo," she says, hands coming out, palms up, "I am a woman. I worry."

Niccolo says "Your worries are not in vain. Novus Ordo is not a place to take lightly."

Lisle nods to that. Then she says, "If I needed to go -- if I was needed, would you take me?"

Niccolo says "If there was grave need."

Lisle inclines her head graciously.

Niccolo thrusts his burly gloved hand out and takes yours, "This is not the time to be putting oneself in jeopardy."

Lisle murmurs, voice velvet, "Thank you." She offers you her hand.

Niccolo holds it silently Huh? (Type "help" for help.)

Lisle reaches her other hand for his, clasping it now in both. "I won't be putting myself in danger."

Niccolo says "This warms the frost in my veins."

Lisle adds, "I won't be going. If I feel it dire, then you will take me. But that is unlikely. All is well, Niccolo."

Lisle brings clasped hands to her cheek, then over her heart.

Lisle adds, more quietly, "I'm glad you're here, though."

Niccolo stares at you, eyes shimmering tranquil.

Lisle meets that stare, eyes knowing. She smiles, dimples showing. Then she releases his hand, her own falling to her lap.

Niccolo rubs his hands together.

Lisle curls the long blonde hair, longer than you'e ever seen her wear, around an ear. "Are you well, Niccolo?" Apparently finished with Novus Ordo.

Niccolo says "Aye."

Niccolo says "Fit!"

Niccolo thumps his chest, "Strong."

Niccolo's eyes glimmer wryly.

Lisle says, "It has been years since we spoke together alone, I think." And Lisle doesn't look a day over twenty, but there's something that speaks of a long and unforgotten grief, something around her eyes. She smiles even more generously at him though. "You always were that. I cannot imagine you any other way."

Niccolo looks days over fourty, grim, and dark.

Niccolo says "Have you children?"

Lisle's eyes brighten, amused, "Me? No. There's no man strong enough to be my husband. I'll not have any, I'm sure."

Niccolo says "Only Tabitha is mine, now."

Lisle says, "I hear of her sometimes. I know she is yours, but I have little love for her myself. She came between us in a way I didn't respect. But that is old history, and perhaps we should both be thankful, or I might hold your babe in my arms now, aye?"

Niccolo says "The child would be grown by now."

Niccolo winks at her.

Lisle flashes a brilliant white smile.

Lisle counters, "Four or five."

Lisle holds her hand up a distance from the ground, estimating height.

Niccolo chuckles low in his throat, "Aye."

Lisle glances at him, long-eyed.

Niccolo says "Aye..."

Lisle says, "It was a dream. We imagined, wasn't it?"

Niccolo says "Aye."

Lisle says, "Yet I recall many details."

Lisle puts a hand to her throat. Vulnerable.

Niccolo says "If they warm you through the ages, you are welcome."

Lisle lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe all I have. I thank you for them, then."

Niccolo pulls on his chin while he guards his gase.

Lisle rises then, a sway of skirt from her hip. She puts a hand on Niccolo's broad shoulder.

Niccolo does not tremble.

Lisle looks down upon his silvered hair, his face.

That same hand brushes his hair from his temple, an intimate gesture, a reflection of many such gestures of the distant past.

Niccolo holds unflinchingly as his lips purse.

And even lower, "And good night."

Niccolo says "I'll be constant in this castle, watching for reflections of shades..."

Lisle's knuckles, fingers curled, touches the fall of his hair one last time. Her hand falls. "I'm glad."

Lisle turns away, walking for the door.

Niccolo says "Later."

Lisle pauses at the door, hand on the jam. "I'll be constant in this castle, too, for my father's sake." And with a last smile she is gone.

You walk through the burnished golden double doors.

End of Scene