#A dress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awardenandacrow · 6 days ago

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FANFIC SNIPPET 13

{this snippet is long! Just as a forewarning.}

[Teia tells Rook to wear something nice to Caterina’s funeral, but Rook doesn’t OWN anything nice.]

CW/TW: implied racism, implied poverty, mild language

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“Something… nice?” Naimeryn asked nervously. “Like, dress armor, or…”

“No, no!” Teia laughed at her. “You’ll stand out like a sore thumb. Something *nice*. A dress, if it suits your fancy.”

“Oh, alright,” she frowned. She didn’t own anything “nice.” Certainly not a dress that could possibly be *nice* enough for a funeral. And what did one wear to an Antivan funeral anyway? As Teia walked away, Lucanis returned from his conversation with Viago.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Actually, um… is there a shop we could go to? To find me something to wear to the funeral, I mean.”

He hesitated. “Treviso certainly has no shortage of such shops, but you don’t really want *me* to go with you, do you?”

“Why not? It’s your grandmother’s funeral, and I don’t want to get something that’s not appropriate.”

“The only rule in Antiva is that whatever you wear, it must be flashy,” he told her. “Even for a funeral.”

“Then I *definitely* need your help,” Naimeryn said, wringing her hands. “Flash isn’t really my forte.”

Lucanis shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sure you’d be happier taking someone else… Illario perhaps. He has the talent for compliments, whereas I am often unsure of what to say.”

Naimeryn fought the urge to physically balk at the idea of going shopping with *Illario.* she put her hands on her hips and eyed Lucanis curiously.

“I don’t need empty flattery,” she told him. “I need someone whose opinion I trust, so I don’t make a fool of myself or offend a casino full of Crows.”

Lucanis looked genuinely surprised. “Well… in that case, there *is* somewhere I know of. And the shop owner owes me a favor.”

He indicated she should follow him, so she did.

“You’re already collecting favors?” She teased as they exited the casino.

“Even I’m not that good,” he assured her, stopping in front of the zip line they needed to take. She sucked in a deep breath. Damn Treviso. “This is a preexisting arrangement.”

“Ah, okay,” she said, hyping herself up with a little bounce and a full body shake before taking a running start at the zipline. She clung on for dear life as the ground fell away and she flew across the canals. She wished she could get used to the sensation of her stomach dropping out. She wished she could figure out how to smoothly dismount the way the others did. She stumbled forward several steps as she reached the other side, miraculously maintaining her upright position. A few bystanders nearby snickered, and although she told herself they probably weren’t even paying attention to her, her ears burned.

Thudding footsteps alerted her that Lucanis had also landed, and she quickly straightened up. At least he didn’t laugh at her — or if he did, he had the decency not to do it to her face.

“This way,” he said, indicating the staircase to their right. Naimeryn followed him through the winding streets of Treviso, periodically stopping to gush over and pet the many, many street cats.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, scratching the chin of a very appreciative black fluffball lounging on a stone wall. “I keep holding us up.”

“I have nowhere else to be,” Lucanis shrugged.

Naimeryn found that she still felt self conscious — after all, he was doing this favor for her — and stopped less the rest of the way, settling for cooing at the felines as they passed instead.

“Here,” Lucanis said, opening the gilded door to the nicest-looking shop Naimeryn had ever laid eyes on. Beautiful gowns and ornate suits decorated the display windows. Naimeryn swallowed thickly. Oh, boy, but she was out of her league.

Nervously, she entered the shop. Other customers, dressed in nicer casual attire than the nicest piece of clothing Naimeryn had ever owned, looked her up and down with disdain on their faces. As the door closed behind her, their eyes shifted over her shoulder, then quickly away. Aware she was blocking Lucanis’s path, she stepped further into the shop, praying she wasn’t dragging mud in on her feet. Creators, she was barefoot in a shop with marble floors.

“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” she mumbled.

If Lucanis heard her, he didn’t get a chance to respond before a woman’s voice said in a warm tone, “Lucanis Dellamorte, back from the dead! And you came to see little old me. Isn’t this a pleasant surprise!”

“Gabriela,” he returned. “My… colleague is in need of your assistance.”

There it was again. The same hesitation he’d used with Teia. Like he didn’t know what to call her. She tried not to read into it too much, and looked up to greet Gabriela. She was a lovely-looking middle-aged woman, with bright, green eyes and dark hair sprinkled with gray pulled back into an intricately braided bun. She wore a ruched red dress that sparkled when she walked.

“Your associates are always welcome here,” Gabriela said, though the look she gave Naimeryn was both curiousity and disdain.

“I’m Rook,” Naimeryn smiled.

“Pleasure,” Gabriela smiled back, but it was tight, and didn’t reach her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“I need something… nice, for a funeral,” Naimeryn told her, fighting the urge to fidget. Lucanis had brought her here. If this woman didn’t think she belonged — well, she was right, but that didn’t matter. She would not squirm. Gabriela looked her up and down, pursed her lips and said,

“I see. Follow me.”

Naimeryn followed her around the central counter, mindful not to slouch and keep her head up. Look like she belonged. As they entered a side room lined with racks of clothing, they passed a mannequin displaying a blood red gown that gave Naimeryn pause. She normally didn’t care much for red, but this was a deep, rich shade, overlaid with glittering black thread in a pattern like feathers. It had long, sheer sleeves down to the first knuckle, with a hole for the thumb, and a plunging neckline covered with the same sheer, feather-patterned overlay.

Naimeryn passed the surely-expensive piece and entered the room Gabriela was showing them. It was the last room at the very back of the shop, and there were several rolling racks of bagged garments partially blocking its entrance. There was, however, a pedistal in the center, and the three walls were lined with racks of black dresses. On each wall, at roughly the center, there were tall mirrors set up so one could see oneself at any angle from the pedistal. At the back right corner was a four-panel room divider, presumably to change behind.

“You should be able to find something adequate here,” Gabriela said stiffly. “These are last season’s dresses, so you won’t need to worry about selecting the same gown as someone important. They are organized around the room by size. If you need assistance, just find an associate — in red.”

She indicated a young elf scurrying by in a red tunic and trousers, half-buried in a pile of garments. Naimeryn smiled tersely.

“Great. Will do. Thanks.”

Gabriela turned on her heel and click-clacked away. Lucanis indicated for her to start without him, then followed her. Naimeryn sighed and allowed her shoulders to slump a bit. She would just find a cheap dress, run it by Lucanis to ensure it was proper, and then they could get out of there. She found the rack with her size and began to rifle through the options. She quickly realized that “cheap” was out the window — even with these being “out of style” — and she’d have to settle for “least expensive.” She didn’t feel right using much of the money they’d collected as a group on herself, but she’d never have enough of her own coin for anything here.

She peeked towards Lucanis and Gabriela. His back was to her, but Gabriela’s face looked stricken. Oh, no. She hoped she wasn’t making a fuss at him for bringing her here.

Naimeryn selected a couple of options as Lucanis stepped back into the room.

“Everything okay?” She asked, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“It will be,” he said. “It seems I owe you an apology.”

“Whatever for?”

“I have never seen Gabriela treat a guest that way.”

Naimeryn froze. Oh. Oh no. Had *he* been giving *her* an earful? She fiddled with the dresses in her hands, then asked him gently,

“Have you paid attention to how she treats her ‘associates’? Her clientele are usually wealthy — and therefore, probably human. She’s not used to serving someone like me; she’s used to someone like me serving *her.*”

Lucanis’s frown deepened. “That isn’t —“

“Right?” Naimeryn smiled sadly. “You don’t need to apologize for her. Unless you put her up to it.”

“Why would I —“

Naimeryn laughed and patted his arm. “I’m kidding, Lucanis. Really. Don’t worry about it. I have had to prove that I belonged in every room I have ever stepped into my entire life. This?”

She waved her hand vaguely in the direction Gabriela had retreated. “Was nothing. I’m gonna go try these on, give me a sec.”

She stepped behind the divider and took a deep breath. A rolling rack took up half of the space, and she hung her three options from it. On the other side of the screen, she heard a bustle, and Lucanis say,

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he responded. “Do you have something on?”

“Uh, right. Hang on.”

A few minutes later, Naimeryn hesitantly stepped out from behind the screen. She wore a simple black a-line dress with a small silver crow embroidered on the asymmetrical neckline. It probably wasn’t “flashy,” but it did bear the smallest price tag.

“You were right. ‘Flash’ really isn’t your forte.”

Naimeryn started laughing in spite of herself. She looked up at Lucanis, ready with a barb of her own, but when she saw what was in his hands, the breath whooshed from her lungs.

“What, ah… what’s that?” She asked nervously, her hands fisting in the skirt. Whatever it was was long, black, shimmery, and looked suspiciously similar to the red gown on the mannequin outside.

“I took the liberty of having Gabriela pull something I thought you might like,” he said, sounding and looking a little sheepish. “I saw you admiring the red one.”

Naimeryn swallowed thickly. “You don’t think that’s a little… *too* flashy? I mean this is your grandmother’s funeral.”

*And there’s no way I can afford that.*

“I promise, Teia will still out-flash you. And what you have on is…” he seemed to struggle to find what he wanted to say.

“Plain?” She whispered. “That’s kind of.. my comfort zone.”

Lucanis looked a little… disappointed? “I can have them put it back.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Naimeryn said quickly. “It was so sweet of you to do that! You just caught me off guard is all. Let me see it.”

She’d just try it on, and make some excuse about it being too over the top. Or something. What could it hurt to try it on?

*No one has ever picked something out for me because they thought I’d like it.*

Naimeryn was painfully aware of how her hands shook as she took it from him. She carried it carefully, knowing that ripping it was not an option. She waited until she was behind the screen to check the price tag. Creators, people spent that kind of money for a special occassion outfit?! She’d have to wear it into the Deep Roads when her Calling came if she spent that kind of coin! She took a deep breath and hung the simple one back up. She turned to the dress Lucanis had picked.

It was not identical to the red one, but it was very similar, and *very* beautiful. With another steadying breath, she removed her bandeau and let the gown slip from the hanger. It felt like nothing beneath her fingers, slinky and soft and light. Carefully, she stepped into it, sliding it gingerly up over her hips. She’d never felt fabric this elegant against her skin; even her slinky night wrap wasn’t this smooth.

The under layer was black, but sometimes when the light hit it just right, it was a darker blue than even her hair. It was skin tight from bust to just below her hips, then it flared out and swept around her legs when she moved. The bodice of this one was a sweetheart that plunged almost to her navel. The overlay was intricately stitched threads like the other, shimmering purple feathers cascading down the length of the gown. The overlay was a true plunging V in both the front and back, with long sheer sleeves skin tight to the elbow, then billowing asymmetrically — shorter in front, longer in back. The shoulders were adorned with iridescent feathers in an impressive silhouette. A work of art, truly, and after they left, Gabriela was likely to have it cleaned after being worn by someone so unworthy.

“Lucanis,” she said nervously, “I really don’t think I should wear this.”

She stepped out from behind the screen, and before she could see his face, she caught sight of herself in the mirror opposite. A soft gasp escaped her. The dress really was stunning. It hugged the curves of her hips so delicately, and elongated her frame so she looked taller than she was. Unconsciously, she covered the scars on her chest, where they peeked out of the under layer, with her hand. The price tag popped up in her mind’s eye, and she bit her lip. And the scars on her back must be on full display… crestfallen at how her unworthy body must be sullying this absolute wonder of a garment, she looked away. Belatedly, she realized Lucanis had still not said anything. Had he left?

Finally, she looked for him. Heat spread across her cheeks at his stricken expression. He stared at her, his mouth closed but his jaw unmistakeably slack, his eyes soft. She supposed in a gown this gorgeous, maybe even she could be pretty enough. Lucanis caught her catching him, and seemed to regain his composure.

“Why not?” He asked with a slight shake of his head.

Naimeryn stuttered over a few syllables, absentmindedly stepping onto the pedistal. She swayed one way, then the other, watching the skirts twirl around her legs. She groaned. The longer it was on, the less she wanted to take it off. She gestured helplessly at herself in the mirror.

“I don’t know, Lucanis. I know I’m not from Antiva, but is this *really* appropriate for a funeral?”

The cleavage *alone* gave her pause, and she wasn’t even particularly well endowed in that department.

“It’s a Crow funeral, and for the First Talon,” he said in a faraway voice. “Any less and you’d be *under*dressed.”

Naimeryn chewed her lip and bounced her fist off her thigh a few times. How could she get out of this? She couldn’t spend the team’s hard-earned gold on this; it wouldn’t be fair.

“You seem upset,” Lucanis frowned, coming around to look her in the face instead of in the mirror. “Why?”

She sighed, looking away from him. The earnest look in those brown eyes made her want to give in to the urge to tear up. She would not cry over a stupid dress. She didn’t need it. When else would she wear it, anyway?

“It’s just… the truth is I… I can’t afford it.”

Lucanis started… laughing? She snapped her head back down to him, hurt, but he smiled at her and crossed his arms across his chest. Creators, but he was even more handsome when he smiled. She couldn’t breathe.

“You thought I was going to let you pay for your dress for *my* grandmother’s funeral?”

Naimeryn opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Yes?” She squeaked.

Lucanis shook his head firmly. “I told you, the shopkeeper owes me a favor.”

“Lucanis,” Naimeryn said seriously, struggling to keep her composure. “It’s too much.”

He held out his hand to help her down from the pedistal. Blighted everything, this man was *trying* to make her faint. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his, and accepted his assistance. She’d need heels to pull this off. His hand was so warm, and it spread to her whole body. How could a simple touch do that? He kept his grip on her fingers and looked her right in the eyes as he spoke.

“For the woman who set me free from that Venatori death pit? It isn’t. Let me get you the dress.”

“Oh, Lucanis,” she breathed, fighting tears in earnest. She would. Not. Cry. Over. A. Dress! “I’ve never owned anything so… so… *wonderful* in all my life! Thank you.”

Lucanis released her hand and cleared his throat, taking a step back. “It really is nothing.”

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HEADCANNON NOTES:

*later Lucanis is playing with the wyvern dagger she bought him and realized it must have cost just as much, if not more than, the dress did. Occurs to him that she’s happy to spend coin on the team, but hesitant to spend it on herself.*

*Gabriela still owes him a favor, he did pay for that dress, but you’ll be hard pressed to find a crow shopping in her shop ever again.*

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FOLLOW-UP: SNIPPET 14 (separate post)