#first they invented bowling; now they've invented Lush

[juliandev0rak]

More Like Sisters

Beatrice, Leila, and Ella pick out their dresses for the yule ball and spend the day together. 

a side fic to the main Hallmark Yule Series written by @leila-of-ravens

characters: Beatrice Viano, Leila Lonan, Lysander Lonan, Lachlan Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens), and Ella Sagen (of @leechobsessed)

oh and Julian Devorak (he’s here too)

words: ~3300 warnings: friends being cute notes: 2/3 of beaellaleila are unlucky in love, the remaining 1/3 wants to put clay on everyone’s faces

Life in the Lonan household is never silent. There’s always someone up making noise, or even just the creak of the walls as the house settles in the night. Though she’s had trouble sleeping with all of the noise and excitement, Beatrice finds that having so many people around has become comforting after a few days. She doesn’t know how she’s going to return to her empty, quiet apartment in Vesuvia when she has to go home.

She sits at the breakfast table across from Leila, stirring a large spoonful of sugar into her tea. Bramble sits on her lap, fast asleep despite the lively chatter of the group. Since Lysander has already left for the University, Beatrice finds herself less apt to socialize. She stares sleepily into her teacup and is thinking of grabbing another of the pastries on the platter in front of her when she notices that Leila has turned to look at her.

“Earl grey again, Beatrice?” Leila gestures to Beatrice’s tea. Beatrice blushes behind her teacup and takes a sip to stall as she thinks of a response. Since she’d met Lysander she’d taken to drinking it, even though she hadn’t loved the taste at first, but now it’s become her favorite simply because it’s his favorite.

Beatrice settles with a polite but vague response, “Yes, I quite like earl grey.” 

Leila simply gives her a knowing look and turns back to her own breakfast. Julian sits to her right, drinking a cup of coffee and leaning back in his chair, looking fully at ease. He raises an eyebrow as he watches Beatrice add yet another spoonful of sugar to her cup.

“You sure put a lot of sugar in your tea,” He laughs, and Leila playfully nudges him with her shoulder.

“Don’t be rude to our guests.”

“It was simply an observation, and I’m a guest too!” Julian protests.

“Not anymore you’re not, we live here.” Leila’s tone is light and affectionate as she leans in to kiss his cheek and Beatrice looks away to give them privacy. 

Her eyes drift to Ella and Lachlan who sit across from each other at the other end of the table, pointedly looking anywhere but at each other, just as they had the morning before. Beatrice has been worried about Ella, she’s seemed withdrawn as of late, and Beatrice has a hunch that the youngest Lonan brother is to blame. 

Ella is in dire need of some cheering up, and luckily today’s the perfect day for that. Since they’ve arrived in Umbra there’s been a packed agenda, but the only thing on the schedule today is an appointment with the tailor. It promises to be a fun experience, and then they’ll have the afternoon to themselves to just spend time with each other, something they haven't had much time for yet.

The tailor arrives shortly after breakfast and as Leila leads Beatrice and Ella down the hall to the room where the tailor has set up, she finds herself feeling a bit nervous. When Lysander had asked her to the ball she’d been overjoyed, but once she’d learned she would have to dance in front of everyone she was less than enthused. Her choice of dress seems important, given how many people will be looking at her. As if sensing her apprehension, Leila reaches out to link her arm with Beatrice’s and the three make their way into the room together. 

Leila goes first. She already has an idea in mind, and the tailor picks out a lacey white material to compliment the design. The color is beautiful, and when she shows them the fabric swatch up close Beatrice notices the lace pattern is made up of tiny white snowflakes. It’s perfect, both for the theme of the yule ball and for a tempestaria like Leila. 

“You’ll look stunning, Leila,” Beatrice says, noting how the color of the dress accentuates Leila’s dark hair and brings out her light eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” Ella smiles at Leila as she twirls in the sample dress in the mirror, testing the swishiness of the skirt. It’s the first genuine smile Beatrice has seen from Ella all day, and she’s determined to see more by the end of it. It’s Ella’s turn to go next, but as she steps up towards the mirror her smile fades.

“Do you have anything in mind?” The tailor asks as she takes Ella’s measurements. 

“No, I hadn’t thought about it.” Ella does her best to keep her tone light and polite but Beatrice can detect a hint of sadness. Though Lachlan and Ella are going to the ball together, clearly they haven’t reconciled.

“Ella, you look very pretty in blue, perhaps we should look at blue fabrics?” Beatrice suggests.

“I agree!” Leila smiles, getting up from her chair to inspect a sample of sparkly blue fabric, “What about something like this?” she holds it up for Ella to look.

“Ooh.” Ella’s smile perks up as she reaches a hand out to feel the fabric, “That’s pretty.” 

“It most certainly is,” The tailor smiles, heading across the room to their inventory of sample dresses. “I would suggest a cut like this.” She holds up a dress with a full skirt and delicate, sheer sleeves.

“You should try it on,” Leila encourages her. “That would be gorgeous on you.” 

She agrees and steps behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Leila and Beatrice turn to discuss the ball preparations, and despite her fear of public dancing Beatrice finds herself quite excited. If nothing else, she loves to plan, and though there’s not much left to do with the event only a week away, she’s eager to decorate the house tomorrow. 

They’d left the door to the room open a crack, and Beatrice startles as the door squeaks open more widely. She’s puzzled when she sees nobody at the door, but then her gaze is brought to movement at the ground to see it was just Bramble coming in. “Oh, hello Bramble, have you come to get a dress too?” Beatrice picks up her rabbit familiar, carefully placing her on her lap.

The girls are too deep in conversation to notice the youngest Lonan brother who happens to peek inside the door at the exact moment Ella steps out from behind the changing screen. Lachlan takes a surprised step back into the hallway, his eyes stuck on the exposed skin of Ella’s back, the way the dress cinches perfectly around her waist. He pulls his gaze away and hurries down the hall, fleeing the scene before anyone has the chance to notice his presence.

“I couldn’t get the zipper up all the way,” Ella says, oblivious to the drama occurring outside the door. She turns around so the tailor can help her and stands before the mirror with an excited smile. “I love this.” 

“It’ll be even prettier in blue!” Beatrice is glad to see her friend happy. Ella swishes around in the dress like Leila had, looking excited and pleased, and very pretty indeed.

Next is Beatrice’s turn, and she has no idea where to begin. The tailor takes her measurements and she wonders whether she should go for something familiar or something new, something that would take people by surprise, something to take Lysander by surprise. She tries to stop thinking of him as she discusses dress design with the tailor, her mind can’t help but wonder what he might think of her choices. 

When it’s clear Beatrice isn’t going to make a choice any time soon, Leila jumps in, “The colors of the yule ball are white, blue, and gold. If you wear something gold, we can match!” 

It’s a great idea, Beatrice loves to be on theme after all. The tailor holds up a variety of samples but none of the golds are quite right, they’re too bold, too shiny, too yellow. Finally the tailor pulls out a swatch of champagne gold, lighter and almost pink in tone compared to the other fabrics she’s looked at so far.

“Oh, Beatrice, that’s lovely on you,” Ella comments as the tailor holds the fabric up to see how it looks next to Beatrice’s face. 

It brings out the rosiness of her cheeks and the golden undertones in her hair, and she has to agree that it’s a pretty color on her. The fabric decided, they move on to the style of the dress. She wants something with a flowy skirt, but nothing so voluminous she could trip over it. Beatrice is a good dancer, but she’ll take no chances with a train or a full ball gown. 

Once the girls have finalized the details with the tailor and scheduled their fittings for a few days later, they’re left with the rest of the day to themselves. The afternoon passes quickly, spent in front of the fire, playing cards and chatting. The topics are light, mostly focused on the upcoming ball and their plans. Beatrice finds the drawing room warm and the couch comfortable and just when she thinks she might doze off on Leila’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder it’s time for dinner.  

It’s just the three of them, and though Beatrice is glad for more time spent with her friends, she misses Lysander. After dinner Leilla announces that she has a surprise for them and they follow her eagerly up the stairs. But when she leads them into a bathroom, Ella and Beatrice exchange a look of confusion. 

“Why have you brought us to the bathroom?” Ella asks as Leila reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out a vial of what looks to be green dirt.

“I thought we could use a little more pampering.” Leila reaches for a bowl stored in one of the storage cabinets.

“Do you usually carry dirt in your pocket?” Beatrice asks, watching in confusion as Leila tips the vial into the bowl and fills it with a bit of water.

“It’s clay, ” Leila laughs, dipping her finger into the bowl to stir it around. Beatrice peers over her shoulder, not quite sure what she’s expecting to happen. “Beatrice could you put your hair up?” 

“My hair?” She questions, wondering what on earth Leila’s up to. When Leila nods, Beatrice reaches into her pocket for a pencil, quickly winding her hair into a bun around it.

“It’s a clay mask, you put it on your face and wait for it to dry before you wash it off. It’s good for your skin.” Leila continues to stir the mixture until it becomes homogeneous, then she lifts her finger up and reaches towards Beatrice's face.

“How… inventive.” Beatrice struggles to find the proper word, it just looks like green mud to her. But Leila hasn’t steered her wrong yet, so she lets her friend spread the mixture on her face. It’s cold, but in a refreshing way, and she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror and stifles a laugh at the image of her face turned green. Leila finishes applying the mask and turns to Ella who is busy wrangling her hair into a manageable pile on the top of her head.

“What do we do while it sets?” Ella asks.

“We sit, and drink wine.” Leila starts to apply the mask to Ella, who winces from the cold just as Beatrice had.

“I remember where the wine is, would you like me to go get it?” Beatrice offers, already stepping out into the hall. 

“Sure!” Leila turns to look at her, half of her face green and the other her natural color. 

“Maybe bring more than one bottle,” Ella suggests, peering her head around the doorway to watch Beatrice walk down the stairs. 

Beatrice can feel the clay hardening on her face as she walks, and she thinks if she were to smile it might crack. The image reminds her of the scars she’d seen on Lysander’s hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. She’s never dared to ask him about the scars before, they’re peculiar but beautiful in a way, cracked like broken ceramic. She rounds the corner into the kitchen and suddenly comes face to face with the man she’d just been thinking about, busy making a cup of tea.

“Oh, good evening, Beatrice.” Lysander greets her cordially, his lips turning into a confused frown at the sight of her. “What do you have all over your face?” 

“Clay.” She responds, grateful the green mud at least hides her embarrassed blush at being caught looking this way. “It’s supposed to be good for your skin.” 

“It looks strange, but I have heard of the health benefits of clay. You’ll have to apprise me of the results.” He turns back to stirring milk into his tea with absolute focus.

“I’ll be sure to let you know how it worked.” She tries to keep her back turned to him as she grabs two bottles of wine and some glasses from the kitchen. In the few short days of her stay here she’d gotten well acquainted with the layout of the house, she already feels at home here. When she turns to leave she notices Lysander looking at her again and she quickly ducks her head.

“Will you be assisting with the yule ball preparations tomorrow?” Lysander asks, still looking at her curiously.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” Beatrice gives him a nod in goodbye and turns to leave. As soon as she’s out of sight she rushes down the hall, trying not to drop any of the glasses or bottles in her arms. She finds Leila and Ella in the drawing room and tries her best not to slam the door shut behind her.

“Beatrice? What’s wrong?” Leila must notice the slightly crazed look in her eyes. Beatrice sets the wine and glasses down on the side table and takes a deep breath to settle herself. Leila and Ella are both turned to look at her and she realizes she should probably respond. 

“I saw Lysander in the kitchen.” Beatrice sighs, plopping down between them in the middle of the couch.

“Oh no.” Leila reaches a comforting hand to Beatrice’s shoulder, “I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you for your… green-ness.” 

“It was just embarrassing.” Beatrice resists the urge to put her face into her hands, not wanting to get clay all over her long sleeves. “I’m always embarrassing around him.” 

“That’s not true! You’re brilliant around him. I’ve seen the two of you carrying on your academic discussions, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. He likes you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Ella smiles at her, reaching to grab her hand. Leila reaches over to the side table and opens a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. 

“Are you sure?” Beatrice accepts the glass from Leila and takes a sip. “I think he sees me as a friend, perhaps, but surely nothing more.” 

“Beatrice, I know my brother better than anyone and I can tell you that for all of his intelligence, he can be a bit dense. He’s observant, but he doesn’t always see what’s in front of him. Give him time, encourage him.” Leila pats her shoulder again and takes a sip of her own wine.

“So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” Beatrice asks, once again blushing under her clay mask.

“Dancing,” Ella says almost wistfully. The look on her face fades from happiness to sadness in an instant when she realizes what she’s said.

“Things still aren't going well with Lachlan?” Leila reaches across Beatrice to grab Ella’s other hand, the three girls now linked. 

“I-,” Ella looks as if she might cry for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and collects herself. “No, they aren’t.”

“He owes you an apology,” Beatrice says, trying to keep her voice from conveying the anger she feels at anyone who could harm her friend. While she’s angry at Lachlan, he is Leila’s brother and she feels the need to remain civil.

“He does,” Leila sighs, “He owes you more than that, he needs to make it up to you.”

“Lachlan can’t even stand to look at me,” Ella’s head droops as she stares down at her shoes. Beatrice squeezes her hand in a show of support. 

“He knows he treated you poorly, he probably feels guilty,” Beatrice frowns, “and rightfully so. You’re not the one at fault here.” 

“Ella, how do you feel about him now? Is he worth it?” Leila asks, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

“I thought I hated him for what he did, but I don't.” Ella sighs, “I could never hate him.” It’s not quite an answer, but the message comes across loud and clear- he’s worth it. 

“And Beatrice? How do you feel about Lysander?” Leila turns to look at her.

“I’m- I think I’m in love with him.” Beatrice’s voice is barely a whisper as she finishes the words, she’s admitted it to herself but not to anyone else, not directly.

“That’s wonderful, Beatrice!” Ella squeezes her hand, just as Beatrice had done.

“It doesn’t feel wonderful,” Beatrice murmurs, thinking of all the empty moments spent waiting for him to notice her, to give her some sort of sign that he might like her.

“No, it doesn’t.” Ella agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Leila puts her glass down and reaches around to give both of them a hug. Ella and Beatrice join in until they’re in an awkward sort of hug huddle. Beatrice’s cheek is pressed against Leila’s and the clay mask feels a bit unpleasant, but she doesn’t pull away. “The Lonans are a difficult bunch at times.” 

“But we love you,” Beatrice smiles, trying to ignore the cracking feel of the clay.

“And we all love you, or at least, we all will,” Leila returns the smile, finally pulling back from the hug. “It’ll all be alright soon, I can feel it.” 

“And I can feel my face peeling off.” Beatrice reaches up to touch her cheek and a patch of dry clay comes off in a flake. 

“Mine too, can we wash these masks off yet?” Ella asks, trying to avoid getting any clay in the stray piece of hair that’s escaped from her updo.

“What, you don’t want to keep the green for a while? Lachlan would definitely look at you then.” Leila laughs.

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Ella replies, and Beatrice is pleased to hear her laughing instead of wincing at the mention of him like she had earlier.

“Me too, I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day. But perhaps tomorrow I’ll turn my hair green too.” Beatrice jokes.

“I’m going to miss both of you when you go back to Vesuvia,” Leila sighs.

“Even when we’re gone, it'll still be the three of us.” Ella’s words, and her familiar smile, comfort the pang of sadness Beatrice feels at the thought of returning to Vesuvia.

“The three of us,” Beatrice echoes, “Though an ocean might separate us, we’re friends, always.” 

“Best friends,” Ella corrects her. 

“More like sisters.” Leila grins, and Beatrice agrees.