Azucena and Orpheus: The First Night
Part 1 of 2
September 28th, 1810 at The Black Crow Bar
For the past hour Orpheus could not find his left shoe.
Not that he had taken it off, nor that he had bothered to look for it, but nevertheless the shoe had been missing for over sixty minutes. In those sixty minutes, Orpheus had consumed two bottles of port, and a double shot of brandy, neat, of course. If he were any wiser as to where his shoe was, at this point, he certainly could not see it even if it struck him in the head.
Seated at the back of The Black Crow Bar, in the heart of downtown London, Orpheus Langston was beyond a healthy level of drunk.
The Black Crow Bar was a notorious underground bar which allowed men and woman to drink freely, and Orpheus had been a regular at the bar for the past three years. He often came alone, a pocket filled with coin, a head filled with noise, a heart filled with pain, and he would drink until he blacked out and ultimately stumbled home.
Tonight was no different. The September nights neared fall temperatures, filling the air inside with a subtle chill which encouraged him to drink faster to fight the goosebumps speckling his exposed arms. The hearth in the corner provided little to dim the cold of the night.
Despite the weather, Orpheus wore a white button down and black trousers, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to the bicep, the top 5 buttons undone, and now, missing a shoe on his left foot.
âGenie!â Orpheus called, waving his hand drunkenly. âAnother port, sir.â He said, propping his right cheek against his hand.
He had long since ceased his crying, yet the tear stains still ran along his cheeks and down his top. His eyes maintained a subtle pinkish color from the heavy sobbing from earlier in the day. The tightness in his chest hardly seemed to lighten with each drink, however, bottle after bottle, he slowly forgot why he had been crying at all.
That was his intention after all. To forget. To drown. To lose himself so fully in the bottom of his glass that perhaps fortune would shine upon him and relieve him of the pain of his mortal life entirely.
However, his hopes have yet to come to fruition, so Orpheus sat, drinking, and utterly alone.
In fact, Orpheus sat at the back of the Black Crow Bar, a section reserved for women. Through blurred vision, and a hopeless search for his court shoe, he had found himself seated in the incorrect section. Although, he had been far too out of it to notice.
Orpheus watched as the port sloshed into his glass, its reddish hue reminding him of blood and the pain he felt at its resemblance. Eugene, as he usually did, left the bottle next to Orpheus to finish off.
Orpheusâ eyes could hardly focus, but he sat twirling the wine around in his glass, trying his hardest to drown himself.
Carriage wheels rolled trail marks into the soft grass of autumn. Almost two Septembers ago, Azucena had been strolling through the park in her long, baby pink dress. A special color for the special occasion, but no one to share it with as of yet, or at least no one she liked back. She hoped that would change, and sat on a bench with her father as they watched the ton move around in a time lapse, holding a little bouquet given to her by her real best friend.
If you ever wonder why Azucena is so picky, or never thinks a man is enough for her, it is because her dad has set the bar way too high for any of the boys to meet. âThey match my dress.â She smiled shyly. He always knew exactly what to get her.
âOf course I did darling. How else will your suitors know they need to work harder?â Azucena giggled. âWell it is not like I have many suitors right now father, after all, I have only just become available.â She said pitifully, feeling like she embarrassed him as a daughter because Harrison left her.
âThe loss belongs to Harrison, love. Any young man who does not believe you to beeeee⊠beautiful, intelligent, articulate, artistic, talented, humorous, benevolent,âŠâ He continued putting down fingers as he listed compliments for Blue. She laughed even more, âPapa, stop!â She chuckled, and he gave her an empathetic smile. âWell, the point is, any man who does not believe you to be perfect is a fool. Now do tell me, is there anyone new you fancy?â
Azucena blushed embarrassed, leaning her head on his shoulder so he couldnât see her face turning pink. âActually, there is one suitor. But do not get excited yet! Aurelia fancies him as well.â Zuzu turned her head, putting her face in her fatherâs shoulder to hide her silly awkwardness. He leaned his head down so she could feel the bottom of his scruffy beard on her hair. âFinch?â He asked in a low voice, trying not to talk too loud when her ears were so close.
âMisfortunately, yes.â She sighed, lifting her head to sit up, gently fixing her hair that got in her face. âAh, in that case, it might be best to choose another then.â Blue nodded, because although her father did not always have the best history with love, he was always good at advising her.
âYou should speak to Lia, darling. Where has she been all day? We both do know that every year before becoming ladies, she blew out candles with you every year.â Azucena smiled softly, remembering her childhood with Lia, and then she realized this was her first birth day apart from Lia. âThat is in fact true. I shall find her later today, I am sure.â She told her dad, missing her friend as well.
Carriages continued to skip by as Azucena peered around the field, given the chance Lia might be there too. She keeps a subtle eye glancing until she sees Liaâs face speaking to a man who she couldnât see as he was facing her. The girl felt alleviated to know her friend had found a date, even if she couldnât spend the day with her. She looked at them talk a little bit longer, until she realized she recognized his curly hair.
Could that be⊠Harrison?
âPlease donât make a face, father, but I think thatâs Harrison in the carriage with Aurelia.â She told him, laying her head on his shoulder again as she processed it, and a tear ran down her cheek. It was one of those feelings you could not explain, where it sounded unjust to feel such a way. She did not see them kiss, nor profess their love for each other, but she felt like a small child on the playing ground. Why did no one want to be her friend?
She went to cry a bit more, and Lionel wrapped his arms around her, consoling Blue for her heartbreak.
Later that day
The girl had not intended on going out that night, for she had been celebrating, and had been a bit tired. But she was hurt. She had changed from her birthday gown and wore a more simple pink one, revealing a bit more ankle 
and could pass off as a maxi dress in the modern day, covered by a cloak to keep her identity as hidden as possible on the way.
The girl hoisted herself over her window sill, and stepped out into the bushes under the fair moonâs light. The town was illuminated by some houses who had still not gone to sleep, but above her head she could only see the stars like a painting on the ceiling, where the whole world was her home. Her loyal doorman fetched her a quaint ride to get across town. She stepped in with her dainty heels, and the horses rushed off to the bar while she relaxed with their rocking, looking out of the opening more than she should have.
Azu thought about it, how she went to this place to seek shelter. If the real world did not hold a love for her, why could she not give herself the illusion that it did? Just for one evening, between liquor and conversation with people whom she would not see again. Somewhere in that unknowing, she believed they understood her. People who knew Azucena knew she was a marchioness, they knew her hair was light brown, her parents were Regina and Lionel Osuna. But people who knew Lillith knew she liked morning dew, and that they could trust her with their secrets. The question was, which side of it mattered?
The girl arrived at the Black Crow, thanked the horseman, and pulled her cloak down as she stepped in, the static in her hair cooling down with the cold. A few women stood in the corner, seeming to play some sort of game. Other men seemed to be negotiating, most likely a proposal they could not negotiate in daylight. Sitting at one of the stools, though, there was a man sitting alone. He looked rather put together, but something about his demeanor seemed as though his heart had been broken.
She walked over, wanting to see if she could make him feel better.
She asked, him a question, putting a caring hand on his shoulder when she saw the etches of his tears on his cheek. âAre you alright?â
Orpheus had slowly begun to drift off, the port wine pulling his eyelids closed with its weight in his stomach. That is, until a soft voice, a womanâs voice, spoke up from behind him.
He felt the gentle touch of a hand chilled from the fresh night air touch his shoulder. Through his button up shirt alone, he could feel icy outline of each finger as she spoke.
âAre you alright?â The woman asked, glancing over Orpheus.
Orpheus pried his eyes further awake, taking in a long breath of air to force his body from falling under sleep.
âAlright?â Orpheus laughed, spinning on his bar stool to look at the lady. âHardly, Miss, my left foot is freezing. Pray, tell me, have you seen my shoe?â Orpheus slightly slurred his speech, but the words came out clear enough. He held his foot up slightly, wriggling his toes and chuckling at himself for his loss. As he lifted his heel, he became slightly unbalanced, leaning against the bar side for stability to keep himself from toppling out of his seat.
Orpheus looked from his foot back up at the lady who he had hardly processed before now. As he blinked his eyes more awake, he made out the features of her face.
She was a smaller woman, short stature, and an even build. Her eyes were a soaring blueish green that Orpheus could not escape from. They seemed to be pulling him closer to her. Like the sea calling to men on the shoreline; they begged him to drown.
âMy, you are a visionâŠâ Orpheus breathed, a small smile spreading across his face as he held her gaze. He cleared his throat as he continued, âUh, apologiesâŠMissâŠforgive me, I do not believe I have had the pleasureâŠyour name, MissâŠ?â Orpheus spoke slowly, the alcohol still holding his tongue in a twist, however, his eyes spoke where his words could not. Not for a moment did they part from hers, and with each second that passed, he wanted nothing more than to dive within them. âOcean eyesâŠâ He thought to himself. âWhat a beautiful rarityâŠâ
By god, this man was drunk. Azucena made a bit of a confused face in her judgement as he asked if she had seen his shoe. Why did he not know where his shoe was? Why did he take it off? She had so many questionsâŠ
Also, when she looked around him on the floor, the manâs shoe was right behind him. She picked it up with two pinched fingers and handed it to him.
âYour shoe⊠sir.â
Naturally, Azucena would probably rather have pointed it out behind him than given it to him, because who knows where that shoe has been. But he looked like he could use a helping hand, and she was not that much of a b^tch.
However, she was very confused when he turned to face her. His features seemed well groomed, with smooth lips and combed hair that framed his face too well not to be done by a stylist. His dress as well seemed to be made of rich fabric, so she would think him to be a noble. Or at least a member of the emerging middle class. Still, in this particular place he looked a mess.
He complimented her. A vision he said, speaking like a drunken sailor steering lazily on the late night ship deck. It was a bit poetic, as a visionary she truly appreciated his kindness. As a woman, she was a bit concerned about a drunk man showing attraction to her, but he did not show any signs of danger. âThank you.â She said politely.
As she expected, he also eventually asked her name. âLillith.â She said, giving her fake identity to him. Here she could not be Azucena. Azucena was a marchioness with much dignity and style, but still frigid enough for you to wonder what she was like when no one was around. Azucena was a poet deemed a failure because her fiancĂ©e did not think her profound enough to impress him.
Lillith, however, was a kindred spirit who was quick to offer her kind words to anyone who needed them. She was not afraid to be vulnerable, and her poems served as war crys among her and the men at the brothel, boasting her rhymes as shanties to tell for generations on. Lillith did not have a Spanish accent, for she did a spot on English impression, an impression Azucena supposedly could not.
âWhat is yours?â She asked, taking a seat beside him. The man from the bar walked by and she called to him as they spoke. âOne port please, Eugene.â She said, calling the tender by his name as they were somewhat close. Then, she looked back to him humbly, letting him continue.
âYour shoe⊠sir.â The womanâs voice was soft yet clearly as confused as Orpheus was. Orpheus looked it over, placing his heel back on the ground and taking the shoe from her.
âWhere did you-?â Orpheus asked the sole of his shoe, his face a furrowed confusion as he stared at the leather boot. âIâve been looking forâŠâ Orpheus trailed off, pulling his shoe securely back onto his left foot where it belonged.
Orpheus glanced back up at the woman, smiling to himself as he processed the beauty of her features. For a moment, Orpheus wondered if his port had spoiled, and the woman in front of him was a product of hallucinations, as there was no way such a lovely woman existed amongst the ruffians of lower English life.
âLilith.â She replied. Had Orpheus asked her name? He couldnât recall.
Either way, the name did hold a certain charm. A poetic ring that Orpheus quite liked, his name being of equal mythological merit.
The woman, Lilith, perched her small frame atop the stool closest to him, the chill of the night that she carried with her sending yet another shiver down his spine. She was electrifying in a way. The mix of cool breeze and body heat enticing Orpheus forward. Her calm expression and closeness in proximity making him all the more curious about her.
She called for a drink, but Orpheus nudged his bottle toward her, pulling an empty glass from behind the bar.
âHere.â Orpheus attempted a shaky pour, somehow managing to contain the liquid to the glass. âI should think it wasted on me.â Orpheus smiled, gesturing for her to take the bottle.
âLangs-â Orpheus cut himself short. He was a man of his reputation, and introducing himself to ladies of ill-repute at a bar might stir unnecessary attention. âthe name.â Orpheus finished, taking a sip from his own glass, trying to play off his introductory fumble as a drunken mistake. âLang.â He said again, ensuring the name sounded familiar and sure on his tongue.
Orpheus watched the lady next to him, analyzing her movements. She held herself well for a lower class woman. Her mannerism were refined, stable, proper even. However, her accent was native, and surely if there had been a woman of such beauty in the ton, Orpheus would have taken notice to her.
Or perhaps, his mind was far too distracted to take heed of anyone apart from Aurelia. Orpheus and Aurelia had been courting for the past few months, spending countless hours romancing and enjoying the splendors of courtship together. The abrupt ending of their time came as Aurelia fell ill. Tonight, Orpheus had come to grieve his loss, lose himself in self-loathing, and unburden the guilt he held so tightly at not being able to comfort her in her time of need.
Orpheusâ attachment to Aurelia had grown so deeply that separating them was like ripping a rose from its root. As roses do when torn, Orpheus began to rot. Slowly. With each sip, each drunken night, he let himself fade away, hoping that one day the universe might take him the way it had taken Lia.
As the buzz of the alcohol began to lose its previous numbing qualities, Orpheus found himself in need of a new drug. One he could lose himself in.
Perhaps, he thought, it had just walked through the door.
âLilithâŠâ Orpheus allowed her name to dance along his tongue. âHave you come to dwell in this wasted place, Lilith? Surely, you are not here to tempt a broken manâŠâ Orpheus teased, recalling the mythology behind the Biblical version of Lilith.
Orpheus turned to her again, a playful smirk gracing his expression.
âPray, tell, lovely lady of lore, why has such youthful beauty come to seek the comforts of such a place as thisâŠ?â Orpheusâ voice was still slurred, but slightly more audible as he attempted to sober himself up in front of her.
There was something refreshing about a woman joining him for a nightly drink as he normally did not partake in such activities with the women he was in proximity to. That is one of the reasons Orpheus frequented The Black Crow Bar, he loved the company of the many characters that walked through the door.
This woman, it seemed, would be equally as intriguing. A welcomed distraction for his wandering and broken heart.
mentioned:
@Kristi Harrison
@Caticorn Finch
@benitz786 Aurelia
others who might like azu and orphie being NOT promiscuous 
@Madilfill
@Jass