#selene 'i know i just made things awkward so im gonna go get naked instead of dealing with this *finger guns*'

[selenelavellan]

wishing, hoping, and waiting

A/B/O AU

*awkward shuffling* sometimes I just miss AUs and I need to write something for them ok?

Dirthamen and the Evanuris are @feynites

Selene lets out a long, slow breath as she stares at her reflection in the mirror.

The gown is very fine, with a high halter neckline the tops of which brush gently against her jaw whenever she angles her head downwards. The gradient of it is gentle but striking, switching from a white that matches the curls of her hair until it becomes a deep jet black of feathers trailing along the floor from about halfway down her legs. Her hair has been intricately braided with ravens feathers and obsidian gems and laid over her left shoulder, leaving the long, low dip of the back of the dress open and exposed and only barely covering the curve of her ass.

She is carefully tugging the dip slightly upwards in a vain attempt to gain a bit more modesty when Lord Dirthamen enters the room and her breath leaves her lungs in a rush.

Oh.

His own gown is done in a nearly opposing design. A high collar to frame his face from behind with a low, low dip of his collar that leaves the edges of his hip bones exposed in the front. The fabric is black where hers is white, with a longer train of pale feathers following each slow step he makes. There is a small assortment of jewelry adorning his person; more to mark rank than anything else though she's not sure how he could ever be mistaken for anyone else. His hair has been left long, with only a single hair piece to keep one side from falling in front of his mask, done in the design of a crescent moon.

She swallows, hands wringing slightly while she tries to tear her eyes away from him and finds herself powerless to do so.

It's not like it's news that he's beautiful, she berates herself internally.

But...it's not often it's flaunted like this. His beauty is far more commonly seen in other forms, after all; the way the light curves around his waist when he reaches for a book, the shifting of his features when he is comfortable enough to remove his mask to eat, the way his hair drapes across his desk when he is focused on solving a problem. Hidden moments of charm, like precious, private secrets.

This is a display.

And an unquestionably effective one at that.

She bows her head politely, eyes still unable to leave him as she does.

“Good to see you again,” She greets.

“You, as well,” He manages. It sounds slightly strained, and she frowns.

Is something bothering him?

It has been some time since they attended a party together; their frequency had slowed dramatically after the announcement of their 'courtship' after all.

Which had been the point, of course. He hated those parties and she hated the idea of him being paraded around like some sort of show animal. But this is a party for another event entirely, something Lady Sylaise had deemed important enough to celebrate but Selene had been too distracted by her work to actually read up on. She supposes if it truly matters, someone will mention it.

She isn't planning on actually meeting Lady Sylaise, anyways.

“Are you alright?” She asks, taking a step towards him.

“Yes,” He nods. One of his hands moves into a pocket before pulling out a small, silver mask. “This is for you,”

Selene takes the half mask from him, and up close she can see that it's been patterned to look like a raven spreading its wings wide in flight. She thanks him and carefully arranges it onto her face, activating the enchantment that will keep it in place for the evening.

She smiles, and taps gently on the edge of a wing before leaning forward and gently clinking her mask against his own.

“We match.”

His chest rises and falls (and she tries and fails not to notice how much more prominent such a basic action is in his gown) before his throat bobs and he breathes out a soft “Yes,” that makes her own chest flutter.

Her gaze drops slightly lower and she pulls away with a soft “Oh,” Before she can think better of it, and reaches out to straighten some of the long jeweled chains dangling over his chest. Her fingers brush briefly against the exposed skin as she tugs on the white gold, and the warmth of him brings her back to the situation at hand.

Their courtship.

Their pretend courtship.

She clears her throat and straightens up, awkwardly patting once at the now-correctly-aligned jewelry.

“It was-that is, I mean it was-you've mentioned your sister is a stickler for details and I just...” She lets out a breath. “Sorry. Just...wanted to help.”

“I appreciate it,” He assures her.

The scent of mint and snow begins to rise in the room and Selene shivers under the weight of it-

Before there is a knock at the door.

Ah, she sighs in slight disappointment.

Time for their appearance, then.

Back to playing pretend.

It is always pretend, some part of her mind tries to remind her.

A part that is getting harder and harder to believe, though.

She laces her fingers delicately through his, and offers a reassuring smile.

“Are you ready?”

He nods, hand squeezing hers in acknowledgment.

Then they step through the doors.

Together.

–

It's not a terrible party.

It's almost nice, actually, now that it's not filled entirely with people trying to get into Dirthamens pants.

Not that there aren't still a few people making attempts.

But she spends most of the evening at his side which deters most of the would-be suitors, and when she returns from getting a beverage to find another elf attempting to plaster themselves to him despite the slight curving of his spine she now recognizes as his attempt to politely exit an uncomfortable situation without causing a scene, she just slides her arm around Dirthamens hip and mentions wanting to show him the view from the balcony as she guides him away from the crowd and the noise and into the fresh air of the evening.

Dirthamens shoulders slump slightly in exhaustion once they are out of eye shot of most of the party attendees, and she offers him her drink in case of dehydration.

He doesn't eat as often as he should, she's noticed.

His fingers brush hers as he takes the glass from her hand, mask shifting to sit on top of his head while he takes a long drink.

Selene takes the opportunity to admire his features in the moonlight; they are surprisingly elf-like tonight, and she wonders if its a side-effect of being surrounded by so many people. His jaw is square, and he's only got the one extra eye sitting in the middle of his forehead. She also notes that he is wearing a small amount of makeup, even under the mask. A dark lip and a ring of eyeliner that makes the blue of his eyes pop and his lashes look even longer than they normally do.

“Is something wrong?” Dirthamen asks after she has been staring for likely longer than would be polite.

“What? No,” She answers, back straightening as she smooths out the wrinkles that had formed in her dress while she had relaxed against the railing and stared at her false paramour. “You just look particularly beautiful tonight, is all.”

His face flushes, and she bites on her lip to keep from chuckling at the sudden intensity of it. Without the mask to hide behind, it's surprisingly easy to read him, she finds.

Probably part of the reason he wears it, she supposes.

“You as well,” He returns, glancing off towards the view of the city. “The dress suits you.”

“Thank you-” She starts, breath catching as one of his gloved hands reaches up to tuck a stray curl back behind her ear.

One of her own hands reaches up to catch it before he can pull it away.

They both seem equally shocked by her actions.

“I...” She starts, unsure of where she's really planning on taking the sentence. She's not sure if its an apology, or a confession, or a statement about the weather.

She's just suddenly overcome by the desire for him to keep touching her, in some capacity.

He blinks, one eye at a time, and the flush this time is much more gradual as it sweeps over his features.

“There is no one here to see us,” He reminds her, quietly.

“It's not for them to see,” She responds without thought.

His eyebrows raise, and his throat bobs again.

“I...” She tries again, hand tightening slightly around his. Looking for reassurance, for comfort, for some sort of sign that he feels the same way she does.

A trio of elves bursts out of the doors nearest to them, laughing and stumbling and smelling of an overindulgence of wine.

Selene releases Dirthamens hand, and stares out at the city beneath them.

She lets out a breath.

“We should get back to the party,” She swallows, carefully re-affixing her mask while his own moves back to its usual space.

“Ah, yes,” He agrees, taking note of the trio who don't seem to notice their presence, and are currently preoccupied with disrobing one another in the doorway.

Her index finger links loosely with his own as they re-enter the ballroom.

–

“Earlier...” Dirthamen mentions tentatively once they are back in their room, alone and tired from the events of the party.

“Hm?” Selene asks, yawning slightly as she finally removes her mask, carefully placing it down on one of the tables and idly tracing the outline.

“You appeared to be trying to tell me something.”

Selene blinks, mind hazy in her current exhaustion as she struggles to think of what he might be referring to.

“On the balcony...?” He clarifies.

And Selene feels it click.

“Oh. Uhm,” She takes a deep breath, fingers beginning to untie her braid in an attempt to fight off her nerves. “That was just...”

I wanted to tell you that I'm in love with you, and would like to court you genuinely.

I wanted to tell you how badly I wanted to kiss you on the balcony in the moonlight.

I wanted to take you back into the party and declare my love for you in front of the empire and your family and damn the consequences.

“I just wanted to tell you...”

Obsidian beads start falling to the carpet in quiet droplets.

“that....”

Her fingers catch on a knot in her hair.

“I....”

The material of her gown brushes against her jaw as she pointedly stares down at the ground.

“really....”

Her heart is beating faster in her chest, pounding and pounding in anticipation.

“...like the mask you gave me.”

Coward, she berates herself.

“Ah,” he says, and she thinks she picks up a slight note of disappointment in the air before it is swiftly hidden. “Yes. It seemed an appropriate gift for our current level of courting.”

“Of course,” She nods, swallowing her tongue.

“I am glad you enjoyed it.”

“I'd enjoy any gift you gave to me,” She admits.

His head tilts in consideration. “We have been doing this a bit too long now for flowers and poetry not to raise questions. But it is a sweet sentiment. Thank you for it. You are very kind, to say such things. I apologize for any trouble our false courting may be causing you.”

“I...there's no trouble, Dirthamen,” She laughs, shaking her head in fondness and blabbering on before she can think better of herself, and the familiarity she is speaking to him with. “I would do whatever it took to stay by your side.”

That, at least, seems to have caught him off guard.

Selene can't say she meant to say it aloud, either.

They both stand still and silent for a few moments, in the dim light of their shared room in his Arlathan estate.

“I...am going to go change into my sleep wear,” She finally manages, clearing her throat slightly and retrieving a long, soft undershirt from the wardrobe.

He nods, silent and staring and flushed from the neck down as she excuses herself from the room and enters their bath.

She closes the door.

And then slides down the back of it with a soft groan.

Well....at least the party was nice.