#nadita satrinava

[drustvar]

Ch.9: Chameleon

Sneaking around with a stolen face doesn't go quite as planned.

WC: 3,062 A/N: I know, I know. Another 3k chapter. I just couldn't find a good place to chop it other than its natural ending :"). Rosie's accent really pops a bit in this one, she's stressed AF Ao3 Link in reblog || Full text available under read more.

Rosie quickly began to regret her choice in illusions as Julian spent the entire journey back to the Palace practicing his Asra impersonation. Having to take on Asra’s appearance seemed to have sobered him faster than anything else could have. He also walked at twice the speed she and Portia did, and the two women were out of breath by the time they had reached the bridge to the Palace.

“How do you suppose he’d be feeling at this moment?” Julian asked as he glanced back at them. “Like a lamb entering a den of wolves? Or maybe a wolf entering a den of vipers? Hmm, vipers he probably wouldn’t mind, he and Faust would fit right in.” 

“Well for starters, Asra walks at my pace,” Rosie said as she doubled over to catch her breath. Marble squeaked under his heels as he came to an abrupt halt. He turned to her, his brow deeply furrowed. 

“Faust, that’s the snake’s name, isn’t it?” She nodded, and his brow creased further. He rubbed his temples in irritation. ���I-I remember the snake. She nearly squeezed the life out of me, once.” 

“Pythons tend to do that. They’ve got no venom,” she said. He’d been trying to hide the anxious melancholy that had hung around him since they had left the tavern, but it had only become more and more apparent. He had kept a constant, careful distance between them. She wished she could reach out to him, to hook her arm in his and provide her shoulder for support. 

“So it’s safe to say he would be surprised. When he’s surprised, is he more of a…this? Or more like this?” He made an exaggerated expression followed by a slightly less campy one. 

“Neither. He has an excellent poker face.” 

“Hey, Ilya,” Portia said as she grabbed her brother’s arm. “I know this is gonna be a challenge, but try not to talk so much, okay?” 

“Oh no, naturally not. Asra doesn’t talk much. Believe me, it’s hard to maintain such an aura of mystery once you open your mouth.” 

“Maybe he was just quiet around you?” She teased. “You’ve got a real bad habit of doing the talking for everyone, Ilyushka.” The Palace threshold loomed over them. Despite the structure shining beautifully in the sun, it felt hostile. Portia took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before she thrust her arms against the great doors and led the way inside. The doors shut heavily behind them with a sound of grinding stone that made Rosie’s ears ring.  “Stay behind me an’ let me do the talking,” Rosie said as she grabbed Julian’s hand. He murmured something quietly, and she felt his thumb ghost over her knuckles. 

“This is weird, where is everybody?” Portia asked as they made their way through empty marble halls. “Well, uh, where can I take you first, oh great magicians?” 

“The bedroom, of course. Bring us to the room where the dark deed was done.” “Oh dear,” Rosie couldn’t keep herself from laughing. “You had really better let me do the talking.”

“What? I’m doing great! Uh, aren’t I?” “Tone down the theatrics. By like, a lot…and don’t walk like that.” 

“Walk like what? I’m walking like normal!” “Asra doesn’t walk like that, though. He’s kind of…floaty. The way you hold yourself looks more like a hare ready to run for his life.” 

He let out an indignant huff. “And I’m the one being theatrical?” “But am I wrong? Certainly doesn’t help that you’re so much shorter now, no longer as imposin’.” 

Portia sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Guys, as cute as it is to watch you two bicker,” she tapped her foot. “Are we going to the Count’s room or not?”  || The hounds were nowhere to be seen as the three made their way to the Count’s abandoned wing. Rosie took this as a good sign; she had a feeling her illusion wasn’t advanced enough to fool animals, especially if they had known Julian from before. Sounds echoed from the end of the hall, only adding to the haunting atmosphere. Rosie could feel Julian tensing beside her. “Didn’t you say that no one ever comes to these rooms anymore?”

“Nope, never,” Portia said as she peered ahead into the gloom. “In the years I’ve been here, nobody does if they don’t have to. And when they do…Let’s just say there are a lot of stories floating around downstairs. People have heard things, seen things!”  Rosie wrapped her fingers around her amulet, once again reminded of the ghostly being that had cornered her on her first night in the Palace. A faint moan drifted through the rafter just as they reached the door to the bedroom. Julian bristled from head to toe, and Rosie squeezed his hand tightly. Portia turned the handle, and to their surprise the door was already unlocked. Just as she started to push the door open, a crash shook the room from the inside. Rosie swore and pushed closer against Julian as the door swung open before them. The room was a flurry of activity on the inside; servants scrubbed at every surface, trying to dislodge years of grime. Huge, sweeping  streaks of ash coated the wall behind the canopied bed. The Countess stood beside it, her eyes wide as she looked at each of them in turn. 

“Portia, there you are.” In a flash, her composure had returned. “Hello, Rosie. It is good to see you are well again. As you can see, we are at last attending to the ruin of this room. There have been a number of…curious accidents.” She paused, her eyes settling on Julian-Asra. “Who is this?” 

“I am the majulian—magician Asra, here to help my apprentice help you, Countess.” As Nadia stepped closer, Rosie could feel the hair on the back of her neck begin to bristle. “Asra, at least we meet.” “Y-yes, I’d have offered my help earlier you see, but I was on a, uh, quest to open my third ear.” “Third…ear?” 

“Eye! He meant eye. I’d had an ear ache so ears ‘ave been on the mind, isn’t that right, dear?” Rosie shot him a look that effectively shut him up.

“I see. Well,” Nadia paused. “I simply thought we might have met before, but you are indeed a stranger to me. Or perhaps my eyes deceive me; it is terribly dim. Perhaps if that lamp was lit?” The Countess pointed to a sconce covered in cobwebs, too high on the wall to be reached without magic. From the corner of her eye, Rosie could see Julian swallowing hard. “Oh, goodness!” Rosie shouted and pointed to a darkened corner of the room. “What in the world could that be?!” As the Countess turned, Rosie made sure to step between her and Julian. “What is it? Oh, my.” Rosie had hoped that she could shrug it off as a rat or a stray cobweb, but no, something was actually there. The portrait of the late Count was smoking. Its eyes appeared to be dripping red, as if they were bleeding. Several of the servants gasped, and one even fainted into the arms of another. “That is uh, that is a bad omen.” 

“Indeed,” The Countess’ voice was quiet and unwavering.

 Portia laughed nervously and clapped her hands. “Oh, don’t worry about that, milady! I’ll take care of it!”  “Don’t go near it,” Rosie said in a hoarse whisper. But Portia didn’t hear her, just grabbed a nearby ladder and hurried to the portrait and scrubbed at its eyes with a rag. Rosie wheezed and clutched her amulet as she watched a shape form in the corner, white smoke rising and coalescing  into a vague, human sized shape. She reached behind her for Julian, who clutched her arm. To her horror, the smoke darted across the room and slammed into the ladder.

“My heavens, Portia!”

Portia landed in the Countess’ arms as the ladder came crashing down.

“So quick!” Julian said, as Rosie hung onto his arm, trying not to shake. “That was a feat of amazing foresight, Countess. Almost as if you saw the future. You may have uh, abilities in magic.”

Nadia gave him a curious look as she set Portia on the ground. “I wonder…Perhaps when I am through here, I shall join you both in the investigation.” 

“In the library!” Portia said, having recovered from her fall. “Investigating the library.” “Yes, a perfect place to start. I believe you keep the keys.” 

“I, uh, yes! Yes I have them," she coughed and waved some lingering dust away. "Follow me." As soon as the door had shut behind them, Rosie grabbed their hands and dragged them to the end of the hall as fast as she could. Once they had put some distance between themselves and the Count’s room, Julian’s fine control of the Asra facade broke. His face split into a grin, one that was unmistakably his own. 

“I think that went well.” “Oh sure, fantastic,” Portia said as she punched his shoulder. “Well, what do you think, Rosie?” Rosie didn’t answer, she was still staring back the way they had come. “Rosie?” She jumped and hissed quietly when he put his hand on her arm. “Sorry, I,” she ran a hand through her hair and tried to breathe. “I’m sorry. I-I cannae go back there, not again.” Julian put an arm around her and pulled her close, trying to comfort her. “E-everytime I’ve been there somethin’ happens I-” she shook her head. “Let’s just…Let’s just get to the library.” The Devoraks exchanged a brief, worried glance. “Of course. This way,” Portia said, leading the three once more away from the darkened wing.  ||

The illusion Rosie had cast fully unraveled once the locks on the library door clicked behind them. It was as if a sheer fabric dropped off Julian’s frame and evaporated like dew, how quickly “Asra” vanished. 

“Well, that was certainly an experience,” he said, looking at his arms—now his again. “I may not know magic, but there’s definitely something going on here. Something beyond my knowledge. Luckily for us, we’re at a library, so let's see what we can learn.”  The pair began to snake through the stacks, weaving through the shelves that rose up around them like protective walls. Julian’s eye scanned the rows quickly as his fingers fluttered over the spines. Rosie followed his lead as they slowly made their way deeper and deeper into the shelves. By the time they had reached his desk, he had grabbed at least a dozen different books.

“All these books, and I just kept coming back to this same old desk, just around the corner. It’s coming back to me…it’s close at the back of my mind. I can just taste it.” 

“Right. Let’s get studying then, I suppose.” Rosie said, before she noticed his gaze lingering on her before he bashfully looked at the ground. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not mad at you,” she said as she grabbed one of the books from the pile and began to flip through it. “If I were mad at you, you’d know.” 

He sighed and looked past her. “You’re not, huh? You know, Rosie, they do say there’s such a thing as being too forgiving.” 

“I was never mad, but I was—I am, frustrated,” she snapped the book shut. “You’ve no idea how much I want to help you. I dunnae care the cost. I mean, what have I got to lose, really? I’ve not got much, if we’re being completely honest.” 

Julian opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to silence him and continued. “I know, you would love for me to be angry. To be acting like a woman scorned and to punish you. But that’s not how I feel. You punish yourself enough as it is.” 

He didn’t respond, his eye had grown wide as he quickly stepped around her and stood in front of the desk, staring at it. It was still cluttered and unassuming, but not exactly. She could tell it had been touched. “This isn’t just any desk…this is my desk.”

“Pippin didn’t do this,” Rosie murmured as she stared at one of the drawers that had been left slightly ajar. “Pippin? Who’s Pippin?”  “My familiar.” 

He didn’t dwell on that information, he was instead fixated entirely on the desk. He started to frantically dig through its contents; papers fluttered in the air, covered in meticulous drawings and logs. Rosie plucked one from the air and studied the image: it depicted a scarab beetle of some kind. Something about it drew her in, so much so she hardly noticed how still Julian had gone. His arm was trembling; clenched tightly in his hand was an oily metal key with a red stone in the eye. As she stared at it, she could feel the blood roaring in her ears. Something about that key…it felt so familiar. As if she had had one of her own before. But that couldn’t have been possible, she reasoned. 

“This is it. This is what was calling to me,” Julian spoke quietly. “Don’t ask me how I know, but I know. It’s not any of these old scrawlings. It’s this!” He tossed the key in the air, snatching it on the way down and pocketing it; a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. “I’m one step closer.” He grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the desk, an adoring grin plastered on her face. “If it wasn’t for you, dearest Rosie, I’d still be two behind.” 

“I really didn’t, oh!” He swept her around victoriously in his arms, only stopping when his nose was an inch from hers. “Rosie-”

A horrible screech came from the window, sending them scrambling to hide in the nearest corner, pressing close together as they tried to stay as far out of view as possible. She watched him, the way he swallowed nervously and the sweat that beaded on his brow as they both stared at the window, fearful of discovery. He took a slow, deep breath, his face  reddening as his chest pressed against hers. 

“Just…just a bird. Sorry,” he said. His gaze slowly drifted downward, pausing at every point of contact between their bodies. He bit his lip as a low groan rumbled at the back of his throat. 

‘Already?’ She thought as she raised a brow at him. 

“About everything, I’m sorry,” he said as he hung his head, looking to askance to face her any longer. “I don’t know what I was thinking, pushing you away like I did. Temporary madness, driven by despair, I guess. It perhaps goes without saying that I find you very, very attractive. Whether,” he paused as he took another shaky breath. “Whether I’m destined to hang or not. And if by some miracle, you see something attractive in me, too. Ah, but for what? I pace, I drink, I tear my hair out. And I still don’t know what to do. Rosie…what do you want me to do?” He finally looked at her, a fiery passion burning in his eye. 

“Stop moping and kiss me,” She grinned at the way his eye widened and the way he stared her down, as if unsure he’d heard correctly. “Do I need to repeat myself?” She took a step closer and pressed a hand to his chest.

“Well, if you insist.” 

Gloved, leather fingers grasped the back of her neck as he pulled her in, his lips meeting hers eagerly, ravenously. She was surprised by how needily he kissed her, and her heart fluttered as his other arm came round the small of her back, tipping her off balance. She clung to him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Easy baby,” she murmured. She could feel his heart racing, practically beating out of his chest. “You’re so worked up already,” she said as she brushed hair out of his eye, her nails following his brow. She murmured soothing words as she tried to guide him to rest his head beneath her chin. But he suddenly pulled away, giving her a suffering look. She could tell he was about to launch another miserable tangent, one that they would both undoubtedly  regret. 

“Don’t speak,” she said as she reached up to cup his face. Her long nails rested on his cheekbones, just below his eyes. “I didn’t give you permission.”

She pulled him close again, herding him back against the wall as she kissed him. Her kisses were slower, less about hunger and more about savoring him. She lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip, making him groan and press closer against her.

“Oh, hello,” she purred as something firm pressed against her thigh. His breath audibly hitched as one of her hands started to trail down his chest. “Oh, if we had the time, the things I would do,” Julian said after he broke his lips from hers. “Who says we don’t?” She asked as she traced his jaw. “And, I dunnae remember giving you permission to speak yet, did I?” 

“Oh, uh, no…” He sighed happily as she kissed him again. She tangled her fingers in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. 

‘What are the chances we could be caught right now?’ She wondered. ‘Even hidden in the stacks…if we were both arrested…�� But her worries were quickly chased off as Julian leaned back against the desk, pulling her onto him. “Don’t mind those,” he said, nodding at the books that fell unceremoniously onto the floor. “Hadn’t even noticed,” she grinned as she tilted his head back and exposed his neck. He moaned low in his throat and arched as she pressed teasing, open  mouthed kisses against his throat. Just before she could sink her teeth into him, a noise from beyond the library doors startled them. 

“Ah! Milady! Finished up so soon?!” Portia’s voice came from the other side of the door, the cheerfulness in her voice barely masking a worried tone. “That’s a surprise!” Nadia’s words were indecipherable from beyond the door, but just the faint sound of her voice was enough to make Rosie’s blood run cold. 

“That’s our cue,” Julian whispered. He patted her hip as he ushered her out of his lap and into the shadows.