#and the only church on my must see list right now is the hagia sophia lol

[ellcrys]

it really is true that after a while all churches just start looking the same to you lol

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Red Rose - Chapter 1

Prologue CH. 1 Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4  Ch. 5 Ch. 6  Ch. 7  Ch. 8  Ch. 9  Ch. 10  Ch. 11  Ch. 12 Ch. 13  Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 

Summary: Riley, a simpleton waitress from New York, meets a strange group of men. An unwelcome presence lurks, however, and they don’t seem very content in just watching.

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children.  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Notes: As promised, here it is chapter 1. I wonder who you think Theodora is. Send me your thoughts, I’ll be glad to hear them. No spoilers, though!

Vienna, Spring 2006

Liam stared blankly to the canvas in front of him, trying to get some sense out of it. Up so far, he failed miserably.

To be fair, he didn’t think many people his age would even bother to try, much less achieve, to understand the painting. It was a sickly green, with some reddish shadows that he couldn’t quite manage to place what they were. The title, Schadenfreude, was of not much help. Not only was in German, a language no tutor quite managed to instill in him, it referred to a concept rather… mismatched with the image he currently saw in front of him.

Let’s face it, Liam is pants in art appreciation.

“What have this painting done for you to frown so much at it?” A red-haired girl about his age asked him in French.

He was taken by surprise by the girl’s approach. He got stiff for a second, but with a discreet nod by an inconspicuous man a few meters away, he relaxed again. “How come you know I speak French?” He asked, curious.

“I make a point in being observant. You don’t look Austrian, you’re way too tanned. You don’t look Italian, with all that blonde hair of yours. My first guess was French, but you don’t quite sound like one either.”

He smiled despite himself. He supposed he could humor the girl for a while. “You’re right. I’m Cordonian.”

“A beautiful land.” She said, in a heavily accented Greek. “What brings you to Austria?”, she asked, back to French.

“I’m visiting a friend.” He said, simple.

“But you seem to have come alone.”

“He’s not into art.”

“Ah! So, it’s a he!” She exclaimed, and he laughed. “You’re a tough nut to crack, mister. And I’m Germanic.”

“I suppose I’m a little shy. Or have something to hide.”

“I guess it’s the second one. You’re not into art either, are you?”

He smiled. “Busted. I’m really not. But that painting out in the front was much too beautiful, I got curious.”

She smiled. “Yeah, Hagia Sophia in Purple. It’s one of my favorites, too. You’re out of luck, though… That’s from an early collection by the artist. Now we’re doing abstract art.”

“So I’ve noticed… I never really got those, you know? It seems to me a little… I don’t know, childlike? Chicken scratch?”

She laughed softly, like a violin. “Oh, if I had a dime for every time I heard that! You’re not really wrong, those are very strange images. But the thing is, it isn’t about what you see, but what you feel, what comes to your mind.”

He raised an eyebrow, confused. He had heard that quite a lot at his art lessons, but never quite comprehended what that meant.

“Look, let me help you,” She motioned to him to face the painting. “What do you see?”

“Green?”

“I can work with that. What does green mean to you?”

“Apples? Forests? Grass?” He guessed, but faced the patient negative from his master.

“No, I mean, what remind you of? Something intimate, deep.”

“I guess, sickness… Jealousy…” Yeah, definitely that. He could feel himself getting nauseated from watching it.

“And what does the title mean?”

“To be happy for one’s misery.”

She hummed. “And how do you relate what you feel to that concept?”

“That the artist is glad to make me sick?”

She once again laughed, this time more hysterically. “Perhaps. She could be a bitch.”

It was his time to snort. “Hey… I never really got your name.”

“Pardon me. I am Linda Rosa Valois, enchanted.”

He froze in shock. “Valois? As in...”

The redhead cut him off. “As in the artist of the childlike painting, yeah.”

Liam started to stutter. “Lord, I am so sorry! I did not mean to...”

“Don’t worry. It’s art! The beauty of it is that all viewpoints coexist peacefully.”

“That’s wise, I suppose… I’m Liam.” He extended his hand. As she handed him hers, he kissed the top of it.

“Now, if you excuse me,” She said, softly, “I must get back to work. I am here every afternoon, should your guy-friend decide he’s not into coffee either.”

“He despises it.” He laughed. As Linda Rosa turned to leave, Liam calls her back. “Miss Valois?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want to say with your painting?”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you someday.”

New York City, Fall 2015

The winds started changing in New York, signaling the end of Summer. Riley couldn’t say she wasn’t glad. The heat has been suffocating that year, never before have the season felt that hot.

She passed by a mean-faced guy in black, hanging in front of a car. The street was rather empty, she could see four or five people around. Almost nothing, considering it was New York, and still kind of early.

The graying skies predicted rain that evening. She pulled her jacket closer to her carboniferous hair, in an attempt to cover her neck and shoulders, exposed by the waitress’ bun and her cleaved uniform.

To be a waitress in a dingy watering hole in Brooklyn is far from being Riley’s dream, but, given the circumstances, it was her only choice. It paid well for a blue-collar job, and if she could manage not to punch anyone, the tips weren’t that bad either.

A block or so from the bar she saw another man dressed in black. She noticed the red button in his clothes. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Trying to pass unnoticed, she pulled the jacket, looked down and kept walking, hurriedly. She believes she wasn’t seen, but to be sure, she took a few wrong turns in her way to work.

A few too much, it would appear, as, when she arrived, Frank, her lovely boss, was waiting for her.

“You’re late!” He screamed, or rather, spoke in his indoor voice. Frank couldn’t be bothered to lower his tone.

Ignoring him, she went on to work her shift.

 A few hours into the night, she was close to be finished with it all.

“Ah, the glamour of New York, taking out the trash in a Saturday night!”

One of her co-workers, Daniel, was helping her. She liked Daniel, she supposed. Even though he was a little lazy, he entertained her with his tales from the ship he used to work.

“It could be worse.” He said, “There could be…”

A mouse jumped out of one of the dumpsters.

“RATS! Riley! Save me!”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this adorable little mouse! He’s a survivor, just like us!”

Back inside, she noticed an entourage just got in. Frank said they were a bachelor party. Nice.

“Waitress!” Said one of the three guys, a middle-eastern looking young man. “We need your best table!”

“Forget the table!” Said another, a jean-clad man. “Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.”

Yay. Rowdy drunkards.

Daniel paled looking at them. Riley could just foresee what he was about to do.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” He said, “I’ll never make it out of here on time!”

“You really want me to take the bachelor party?” Riley said. “Why do I always get the rowdy tables?”

“Because you’re way better at this than I am.” Cheeky bastard.

Riley facepalmed, but smiled kindly, despite her deep displeasure. “Fine. But you owe me one.”

Saying her goodbyes, she walks over the table.

“Hello, gentlemen!” She mustered her best smile. “I’ll be taking care of you this evening!”

She wasn’t quite finished when yet-another man, dressed in a designer shirt, ordered steaks. If the accent wasn’t a dead give-away, that would be her first clue that they were foreigners.

“The closest thing we have to a steak is the burger.”

“Dare I ask for your wine list?” Asked the middle-easterner, dejected.

“We’ve got an excellent vintage house red. And it also comes in white!”

The jean-guy, with common sense, ordered whiskey and four burgers. Counting only three clients, she wonders why four meals. Turning for the kitchen, she only just bumps into the fourth party-goer.

“Sorry I’m late,” He says. “Thank you for your patience, miss…?”

“Riley. No trouble at all.”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too. Now, excuse me, I’ll be back with your order shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

 Riley was wiping the bar and emptying the tip jar. The place has only just closed, but the party was still around. Lost in some pop lyrics, she was surprised by the tap on her shoulder.

“I think we’re about to head out.” The blond, Liam, told her. “I just wanted to thank you… and apologize. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be… demanding.”

Well, back when she was only but a kid and her mother took her to church, the clergyman used to say there was no sin big enough to be unforgivable if a truly regretful heart asked, sincere, for pardon.

Besides, they could have been jerks and just left.

Feeling the irritation evaporate, she answered: “Demanding? Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

As it seems, Liam found humor in her words. “I got the feeling that you could take care of yourself.” As an afterthought, he added: “If you don’t have any plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We’re about to go to a club.”

“Oh,” She said. “Which one?”

“We’re hoping you might have some advice about that. We’re not from around here.”

No, really?

Figuring from the outlandish requests and the thickness the check had acquired while in their table, she believed they were wealthy, if not well-connected. Going into clubs shouldn’t be a hassle for them.

“In which case,” She said to herself and for Liam. “I recommend going to the hottest club in town this season, Kismet.”

“That sounds perfect. Lead the way!” He said, with a smile.

Making use of a dress she had in her locker due to an event a few weeks before in the bar, and perfectly refreshed, she stepped outside to meet the others.

Receiving a round of compliments due to her look, she must admit she wears green well.

Liam, however, was a little less than amused. “I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that.”

Maxwell, she finds the guy in the shirt is called, apologizes for all the catcalling. “Now let’s get this party started!”

“So, she’s our tour guide now?” The jeans, Drake, surly asked.

“Riley” Liam emphasizes. “Was kind enough to agree to show us around. She’s doing us a favor, so play nice.”

A short and somewhat awkward cab ride later and they were in the club. She blinked and found herself alone with Liam, as the others went to the dancefloor.

“Thank you for bringing us here.” The blond said. “The guys are having fun already.”

Taking in consideration that statement, Riley says: “I bet you’re used to putting everyone else first.”

Humoring her, he says: “And why would you say that?”

“I can tell. I’m good at reading people.”

A memory flashes in Liam’s mind for a second, but he soon represses it.

“Now,” She said. “Forget your friends. How do you like it here?”

“What I enjoy the most is the company.” He says, in a somewhat flirtatious smile. “And I believe I am in your debt. What will the lady have?”

“Surprise me.” She said.

A minute later they were toasting with some flaming cocktails.

“A funny choice,” She teases.

“Careful.” He says, blowing the fire. “We’re playing it hot.”

“That’s what makes it fun!” Downing hers, she finished with a “Thanks. I guess we’re even now.”

He hummed. “I guess you’re right. Now I’ll have to find some other excuse to get you to stay.”

“Better think of something fast.”

“Well… the guys are really warming up to you.” She doubted. “If you stick around, you can keep them in line.”

“Oh, yeah?” She said. “I’m pretty sure I just saw a girl dump her drink on Maxwell.”

“See? You’re needed more now than ever.”

“Yeah.” She tutted. “But I’m no babysitter.”

“And what if I buy you another drink? Does that work for you?”

She tucked a rebel strand of hair behind her right ear. “Now you’re not even trying to persuade me.”

“Okay. You got me.” He raised his hand and fake-sighted. In a more serious tone, though, he added: “Hanging out with you is the most fun I’ve had this entire vacation.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know quite how to respond. “That’s… sweet. I suppose you haven’t been enjoying yourself all that much, then.”

“It’s…” He wrestled the words. “Been wonderful, but there’s something missing. I really wanted to…”

“To?”

“It’s… Well… You might think it’s silly, but I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It wasn’t in the guys’ plan, so we never got around to it. And now it’s my last day here…” He real-sighed now. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It has been thoughtful of them to throw me this bachelor party. They’ve done their best, but I’m not in a celebratory mood.”

In her most neutral tone of voice she could muster, Riley said: “I thought it was Tariq’s bachelor party.” Tariq would be the middle-easterner. “Congratulations, Liam.”

In truth, she was kind of annoyed. It wasn’t cool of his part to go out with a girl while his fiancée waited for him an ocean away.

Liam was downcast. “If you knew the whole story, you might not congratulate me so quickly.”

“Oh?” She quipped her ears.

“I actually don’t know who I’m going to marry just yet… Only that I have to pick her before the winter is over.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“The truth is, Riley…” He twists his face in a displeased scowl, as the word is hard to pronounce. “I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia. That is, a country just across the sea from Italy, to the east.”

Crown Prince of Cordonia? Riley knows of the Bonaparte-Valona-Rys, but as far as she remembered, the Crown Prince was Leo. So are the broadcasters, such a small, somewhat backwater country never makes the news.

Trying to ease him, and herself, into it, she says: “I kinda had a feeling.”

She didn’t have much success. “You did?!”

“You’ve got a bunch of fancy guys in your bachelor party who tried to order fillet mignon at a bar.”

Wordlessly, he conceded they were an eyesore. “And you don’t care? Not everyone takes in stride.”

“It takes more than that to intimidate me.”

He scoffs at his own foolishness. “You’re fearless. I admire that in you. You decide who you are. You could be anything, do anything. What drives you?”

That’s a statement one step too close to home. Thinking about what he said, she answers: “To live every day to the fullest. I long to make every day an adventure! You only get one chance in life, and I want to make mine count.”

“That’s beautiful, Riley.”

Hearing the commotion behind her, Riley uses it as a chance to change subjects. “Your friends seem to be having the time of their lives.”

“I’m happy for them. They deserve to have fun.”

Riley takes notice of the rehearsed answers. It’s like interviewing a Miss Universe.

“Tomorrow,” He adds, with a little more sentiment. “It’s back to Cordonia for the start of the social season.”

She looks, passingly, to the bar. Tariq seemed to be ordering yet another bottle of champagne. As it was Saturday, the club was packed with people. Men, women, all single and ready to mingle. But, in a first look, there was someone who dissents from that trend. A man in black. God, it was the man from earlier today!

Riley got scared. She needed an escape plan.

“But it’s not tomorrow yet.” Riley said.

“What are you suggesting?” Liam asked, curious.

“You said you want to see the Statue of Liberty. Let’s do it! I know a place where we can catch a boat.”

“A boat? How will you manage a boat?”

She laughs. “Ye of little faith! I’ll call in a favor, don’t worry.”

“A favor? Just like that, you can get us on a boat after midnight to see the Statue of Liberty?”

“I have some friends who owe me. Come on! I know it’s important to you, so let’s go!”

“Right now?”

“No, next week! Of course, it’s now. Your friends look busy, they won’t notice we’re gone.”

“You’re not taking no as an answer, are you?”

“No.”

He flashes the happiest smile she has seen all night. “Then I happily surrender to your demands.”

 Down at the marina, boarding the boat, Liam admires the view of the city.

“Not a bad scenario.” He says.

She smiles at him and says: “Now I’m dying to know why you’re so eager to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“Can’t you guess?” He said, half lame, half joking.

“I’d say it’s because it symbolizes freedom.” She mockingly scratched her chin, as an upscale psychologist.

“Freedom is something I always wanted.” Liam said, in excitement. “But I’ve always known that my role would require me to give up much of what I desire.”

Something was really off. Always? As she got home, she’d investigate that statement better.

“You are the Prince. Can’t you do what you want at least some of the time?”

“As a member of the Royal House, my actions reflect in all of Cordonia. That is a lesson I’ve never been allowed to forget, no matter how badly I want to.”

The last part of that sentence was said staring longing at Riley’s figure, who was looking at the sky, philosophically. The driver calls for her, she pays for his services discreetly.

“Let’s go!” As she said, the ship started running.

They get quiet for a moment, up until Liam says: “I don’t think you’d be able to pull this off.”

“You just don’t know me very well.”

He’s amused by that answer. “You’re right. But I’d like to change that. You’re fascinating, Riley!” He thinks for a second, and then asks: “Why are you doing all this for me?”

She smiles, and gives a somewhat true answer: “You seemed like you needed it.” She sure knows she needed it.

“That’s… so sweet of you. No one has ever done something like that for me before.”

“You’re a prince, Liam.” She said. “People do things for you all the time.”

“I do get all the perks that come with being royalty, but no one ever seen me as me. No one ever listened to me the way you listen. No one come up with a spur-of-the-moment plan to make my dream come true.”

“Oh, Liam…” She was sincerely touched. “What else do you dream about?”

“Finding someone. Someone who can be the Queen Cordonia needs.”

It seems sad to her that even his dreams are grounded by a harsh reality. Seems hopeless, even.

“And…” She tries to amend. “Someone who you fall in love with, right?”

“That’s never been part of the criteria that the Cordonian Council uses.”

Riley may be an adult, her princess pink dreams from infancy may be long gone, but it does bring a wave of disappointment to her heart.

As she contemplates her feelings on the matter, the mist dissipates, and they get their first good look into the Statue.

“So,” Riley asks. “What do you think?”

Liam looks stargazed to the great, green woman. The definite embodiment of freedom holding a torch above her head – the northern star for all people in the world. He sees the broken chains at her feet, half-hidden by her robes, close as they are from the island. The symbol of a foreign nation, ironically, means something so opposite to him as a symbol of his own homeland.

“Magnificent.” Liam breathes. “I’ve heard that art has meaning because of how it makes the viewer feel. It only matters if it moves you.”

Riley smiles, sweetly. “And?”

“And right now, looking at this view with you, I feel like anything is possible. Thank you for this moment, Riley. This feeling… this mean more to me than you could ever know.”

“Liam…”

“I want you to know I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart.”

“You can live that way too, you know?”

“If only. My whole life I’ve prepared myself to do what’s best for Cordonia.”

“Well, we’re not in Cordonia now.”

Liam watches those seemingly-familiar onyx eyes as he draws close. He puts his hands to her sides, pulling her in and kissing her deeply. As she goes out of breath, they pant in a rhythm, with their foreheads against each other’s.

“I’m glad to have met you, Riley. I’ll never forget this night.”

In between kisses, they soon are brought back to the shore.

As the reality comes down at Liam, they have a lovers’ farewell, as he hops in the cab.

Happy with how her night turned out, Riley had a skip on her step walking her way home.

As she unlocked the door and turned on the light, there he was. The man who has been stalking her all day.

“I have finally found you.”

She screams in terror.

Red Rose - Masterlist

<< Last Chapter                                                                            Next Chapter >>

[ardatli]

30 Questions

tagged by @khirsahle

1)  Nicknames - Not really. My name is pretty nigh un-nicknameable, and the one short-hand which exists quickly becomes obscene in the hands of high school boys, so no. We get a lot of ‘honey’ and ‘love’ around the house, but they’re sort of generic nicknames for family-member-currently-in-my-line-of-sight. 

(truth time - I’ve always associated sweet nicknames with being loved, and my kids have about ten different nicknames apiece. My parents, on the other hand, are not the nicknaming sort.)

2.) Gender - Cis Female

3.) Star sign - Capricorn. I really don’t believe in astrology, but in pretty much every system and zodiac, I end up as an earth sign. There’s probably something being said there. 

4.) Height - 5′2″. My newest sister in law is the only adult in the family shorter than I am, and I’m so glad not to be the (only) elbow rest anymore. 

5.) Time – 9:24 PM

6.) Birthday - The day before the night before Christmas.

7.) Favourite band – My playlist rotations vary a lot, but based on both music and being Incredibly Amazing People, the Heather Dale Band.

8.) Favourite solo artist – There are lots and my tastes really tend to vary. I’ve had ‘Slow Hands’ on repeat a lot right now, but I definitely wouldn’t say that Niall Horan’s a favourite. Leona Lewis? Heather Dale? I like women’s voices. 

9.) Song stuck in my head – See above re: Slow Hands, but it alternates these days with the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme. I have a six year old.

10.) Last movie you watched – Ocean’s 11. The 2001 remake, and how the hell is this movie already old enough to drive?  That’s just not right. But we’d been on a Leverage binge and I was in the mood for a caper film, and it was on Netflix. I still haven’t seen Ocean’s 13, but 12 was crap. 

11.) Last show you watched – We just finished watching Stranger Things (so much fun), and before that we were catching up on more Netflix queue with Defenders.

12.) When did I create my blog – 2012? I think? I started writing fic again for the first time in over 15 years while hopped up on the good drugs following my tubal ligation surgery that spring. XD 

13.) What do I post – Fic, reblogging art, a lot of things related to religion and politics and religious politics (Judaism specifically).

14) Last thing I googled – Checking the attribution on an image of a greek statue. 

15.) Do you have other blogs – A pro writing blog that’s sitting idle right now while I sort out what to do with books that have reverted back to me. Which has itself currently taken a back seat to PhD work.  

17.) Why did you choose your url – It’s my online ID pretty much everywhere, and is a reference to an old and obscure RPG NPC.

18.) Following – 168

19.) Followers – 1,220

20.) Favourite colours – Greens and blues, though my wardrobe is predominantly black, grey, red and purple.

21.) Average hours of sleep – 5 or 6. I need eight to prevent semi-regular migraines, but I’ve had a lifelong battle with depression-linked insomnia that kicks my ass on a regular basis.

22.) Lucky number – none. 7, I suppose, since it’s one of those significant numbers, and I may as well add 18 for chai. 

23.) Instruments I played – Voice, trombone, guitar. Very brief flirtation with violin that did not end well for anyone. 

24.) What am I wearing – Work clothes - grey dress pants, a red camisole and a scoop-neck grey sweater with elbow-length sleeves. One solid red sock and one striped red sock, both fuzzy. Wedding rings, 15 earrings - mostly garnet, opal and zircon studs - and my grandmother’s opal pendant on a long gold chain. 

25.) How many blankets I sleep with – Two or three depending on the weather, usually including a quilt that I’ve made and an afghan of some sort.  The room must be cold, the pillows and blankets plentiful. I have a minor pillow obsession, and there are usually about seven or eight in varying sizes on our bed at any given time. I want to sink into a soft fuzzy bedding pool and never re-emerge.

26.) Dream job – I’m en route, I hope. Ideally I’d be doing exactly what I am doing, but finished the PhD and tenured. (HAH.)

27.) Dream trip – My better half and I have often talked about doing a old-school medieval-style pilgrimage - seeing which of the medieval shrines still exist, walking the road to Santiago, doing all of the major churches. The Hagia Sophia is on my bucket list. 

This is a lot funnier when you realize we’re Jewish (me) and Presbyterian. But the architecture and the archaeology and the history of it all would just be so thrilling. Also an excuse to hang out in Spain and Italy and eat all the things. 

28.) Favourite food –  Pasta. There was (is?) a restaurant in Montreal that we used to go to all the time that did hand-made pastas and the most sumptuous sauces, cream and cheese in everything. Ugh, I die. I could live forever on any and every variation of noodle things. 

29.) Nationality – Canadian. Culturally Ashkenazi, and I’m told my Yid comes out in my cadence when I get annoyed. 

30.) Favourite song – Don’t really have one, per se. There are a lot that I like based on specific moods or memories. ‘No Air’ (the Nath Campos cover) is definitely up there, as is Alannah Myles’ ‘Black Velvet.’ 

tagging @otherpens, @bathshebaeverdenes, @tinyparlancer, @hulklinging, @tinyhipsterboy - no pressure, only if you care to!