Work Text:
At the prestigious university of Celestina, commoners' traditions and holidays weren’t celebrated. But this year it seemed Headmaster Goldmane had made some rather unfortunate changes.
Valentine’s Day… what a wasteful holiday.
For Lady Iselda Arabella Lyra Leibrock VI, it was just another day of pacing corridors and cracking the proverbial (and sometimes literal) whip. Though with the day winding down and the hordes of jovial ‘lovers’ squared away, Iselda readied herself for a calm night in.
Siani had been whisked away and, it seemed, was still out far past her curfew. The excuse she had made for their missed talk was hardly anything imperative enough that called for a rescheduling. Something to do with being ‘dragged against her will’ to a hearts festival. Iselda was going to tell her off for going to such a thing, but with Nyra’s hot glare that was slightly offset by all the glitter and pastels, she let it be for now.
As Siani left her office, Nyra was hot on her heels, all giddy planning to do hell knows what with her. By Arling’s sake Siani needed to find better conversation partners. And honestly, if it hadn’t been for Headmaster Goldmane’s instance that the students grow in their comradery, Iselda would have put a stop to this foolishness.
But her hands were tied. It was quite disheartening; her having to play the obedient servant, but that is the way the world works these days. Iselda wouldn’t go against him for now. Besides, she had more important matters to look after at the moment. A certain drow boy’s sudden appearance still troubled her.
So with some well chosen Elven classics playing in the background, Iselda got to quick work on his lack of background. It was going at a smooth pace when, to her utter shock and slight ire, Iselda noticed a box on her desk.
It was shimmering in brightly saturated reds and pinks, gaudy and tightly wrapped with a cheap plastic bow. With a sharp pull, she removed the lid to find four chocolates expertly decorated and a note sticky with chocolate smears on the back asking to meet at some bistro.
Iselda could do little besides roll her eyes and drop the box in the waste bin caring little for who sent for her.
While Iselda had little in the way of a love affair, she did have a rather distant cousin that was just a little too interested in giving gifts with any excuse in mind. If anything she had probably been swept up in the festivities of it all.
Alma probably laid it on her desk while Iselda was casing the corridors. Though it was rather strange still, she had known Iselda’s personal disinterest in sweets and, furthermore; it was more common for her to barge in and take her out for supper rather than using such a coy note. And with no signature, it was quite suspicious.
Who else could it have been then?
Siani surely would have known better. Well, she had better hope she had. Iselda wouldn’t take kindly to such a stunt.
Beyond that, any other potential candidates were slim. Siani’s two… partners for a lack of a better word, disliked her at best, Iselda obviously wasn’t blind to that.
Nyra’s sudden turn in attitude was disappointing, yet was unsurprising considering her parentage. Not to speak ill of the Brightwaters, they had tried their best, but it was inevitable. And that’s not even touching on a Mr. Bottom. Iselda had hoped Mr. Bottom would have been a good influence on her young Siani, but it seemed his promise had come to pass.
But regardless of personal feelings, they would surely not spend whatever limited time giving her a present.
Then all that was left was a trap. Yes, surely it was one set up by those punks tramping about her school.
Now that was a much more delightful thought. Iselda could finally put a stop to them once and for all. Simply plucking a thorn out of her side and then she could be at ease once again. All would be well and right in the world.
Iselda picked the meeting location out of the waste bin and prepared herself accordingly. While she was never one for girlish giddiness, even she could admit to the flush of excitement racing under her skin.
So Iselda set off, her door locked, and headed for her prey.
—
Well, the best way to describe this was… unexpected.
It wasn’t some young hooligan of a Dragonborn that laid in his chair, a grin facing her like she had envisioned. Instead, it was a Triton, admittedly a handsome one at that. He was seated properly in a nicely tailored suit that complimented him well. It seemed perhaps this older gentleman was somewhat sincere in his proposal.
Though it was still troubling, Iselda, for the life of her, could not figure who he was. He had looked familiar (A teacher? Staff? The janitor?) though Iselda hardly cared to take company with those she did not need to. But a lingering suspicion carried her to the table. She sat with purpose and bore into his sea-green eyes. There was the possibility that he was in league with that Dragonborn, regardless of how decent he looked.
As she readied to push herself in, the Triton stood, “Allow me.”
She did, though it seemed slightly out of character in today’s age to be so chivalrous. Iselda gave up on the idea that anyone still possessed manners, and if anything, this made her all the more wary.
Iselda face forward, strict emotionlessness filled her features. On the table there were already two glasses for each of them, one filled with water and the other empty, presumably for wine. The bistro was nice, despite being a town for the students to relax. Warmth filled the air as some Human serenade played throughout the orange tinted room.
The lighting was too low for her comfort, and the straight-back chair gave little room to leave at her convenience. Though being a proper establishment, Iselda took to acting in league despite her hesitation.
He seated himself once again. Elbows off the table, taking a dignified sip of his water. “It is nice to meet you, Iselda, I presume.” Iselda gave a curt nod. “My name is Fredrick, and I have heard so much from your niece.”
“You know Siani?” It was a genuine question, one that Iselda couldn’t tramp down on. This was definitely concerning. Iselda pulled back her composure and rephrased, “I’m sorry. Are you perhaps a professor of hers? I’m dreadful with faces you should know.”
“That’s quite fine and no, nothing of the sort. I’m a personal friend of Mr. Bottom, so I have met her a time or two. She has quite the, ah, interesting character.”
“I could say the same of Mr. Bottom.”
Fredrick gave a smile at the boy’s name. “All good things, I hope. He is quite the sweet lad.”
Iselda decided to leave that statement uncommentated. “Do you work at the academy, then?”
“Yes, in the kitchens.”
Iselda’s brows crinkled. “With the house elves?”
Fredrick gave a controlled shake of his head, surely less in denial and more likely from not understanding. “No, I work with the Drow, actually. They are quite marvelous to me and it’s been such a pleasure swapping recipes. I dare say it’s better here than with my previous employer.”
Tone light as air, he seemed nearly proud to work in such conditions. Iselda could only wonder how mental that Bottom boy really was and how far Siani had dragged herself to associate with such people.
It nearly made her leave, though she forced herself to stay seated. There was still the issue over what the Triton wanted from her. Why use such tactics to get her here? Iselda nearly wondered if this was a ploy to get her from the castle.
Iselda straightened up and went on the offensive. “Well now, knowing that your, uh, friend and my dear niece are working together, am I to suppose that they suggested this little gathering?”
“Not to my knowledge, no. Siani doesn’t seem the matchmaker type.” His laugh punctuated the sentence.
“So, should I be under the impression that it was you who sent for me?”
“Again, sorry, but it wasn’t my initial intention to celebrate tonight, nor meet you.” He said it in a curt tone, yet Iselda could tell that he was not lying. There was no sense of it and with no immediate emergency from the castle in the thirty or so minutes that it had been since she left, Iselda could only come to one concussion.
Iselda groaned and didn’t attempt to hide it. Of course, she let her hopes get ahead of her and just wound up in some joke and she hadn’t even seen it.
Now probably looking like some naïve fool and with both their times thoroughly wasted, Iselda decided she would deal with her slight disappointment of no further leads by drowning it in her work and some fine wine.
Iselda clicked her tongue and pushed her seat out, nothing but slight annoyance coloring her face. “Well, as amusing as I’m sure somebody thinks this is, I have places to be, so I shall-”
As Iselda stood, a moist hand grasped hers. She nearly yanked it from him, yet his kind eyes made her pause. “Please madam, the server should be back with Elven wine and caviar soon. I wouldn’t want to be left to eat it alone.”
Iselda had the right mind to say no, to leave back to her office and continue her work, but damn her for her one weakness, she asked, “Which brand of caviar?”
“Eggy Bottom’s of course, the finest in the world.” Fredrick answered, and those couldn’t be any truer words.
With a heave of a sigh, Iselda sat herself back down. The worst tonight could bring would be some delicious caviar and a subpar conversation. Though at least Fredrick was articulate enough that perhaps it could be interesting.
—
Somewhere in a bush not too far away from the bistro were four squatters, two of which looked quite perturbed, one truly exacerbated, and the final just down right confused.
“Wow. Literally. That’s all I can say. Wow.” Nyra shook her fluffy pink hair. Some of the red glitter she showered herself in was whipped off, now painting Siani crouching close to her.
Siani gave a high and indigent huff, blowing some glitter off her nose. “Honestly Nyra, what were you thinking pulling such a stunt?”
“Yeah!” Quinton chimed in next to Siani, “Fredrick has been nothing but kind and gratuitous towards you and you set him on a date with- with her aunt?”
Nyra whined, “But I didn’t-”
“Quinton, what should that mean?” Siani asked, her eyes gleaming with danger.
But Quinton, never one to bow to Siani of all people, stared back hard. “I think you very well know what I mean, Siani.”
Siani shuffled away from Nyra’s side, inching ever so closer to Quinton, “Don’t you think I won’t-”
“Won’t what? Do you want to get caught? It’s a full glass window. If we move, we’re caught.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m sure I got some spell that will-”
“Ugh, shut up.” A deep groan from the end of the bush cut her off.
Sendrar was hardly entertained by any of this to begin with, and he made that readily apparent since Nyra had them camp out, but now he found this was down right stupid. “How about we don’t start a dueling club in a bush.” Sendrar said, and to make his point clear, he shoved his way between them, knocking into them both.
Siani fell flat on her ass as Quinton wobbled, nearly toppling himself. He was only saved by Sendrar’s arm that he quickly snuck around Quinton’s waist. Satisfied, Sendrar swung around, looking past a now irritated Siani towards Nyra, still staring off into the window. “But seriously, what is the point of this?”
“I don’t know, I just gave her the chocolates. I didn’t think she’d actually come,” Nyra said, almost like she was desperate for answers herself. “I thought it would be funny to see her huffy, and I don’t know what Fredrick’s doing here either. I asked if he could make the chocolates and told him of the little prank. I never asked him to come!”
A single shimmering tear fell down Quinton’s face for the fate that befell poor Fredrick, “Fredrick, how gracious of you, your kindness shows no bounds.”
“Be quiet, Quinton.” Siani bit back as she pushed herself back up, leaning on Nyra for support, in which Nyra happily complied. “My aunt is not nearly as bad as you’re making her out.”
The three gave Siani quite possibly the deadest stare they could muster, and with nothing better to do, being stuck in a bush together, turned back to watch the date in awe and disgust.
