Azucena and Orpheus: The First Night
Part 2 of 2
September 28th, 1810 at The Black Crow Bar
The man viewed his shoe in amazement and she chuckled a bit. He seemed very friendly for a beggar, it was hard for Azucena to judge him. Admittedly, she was also a bit naive, with more heart than pride at the end of the day. Still, she did not feel afraid coming closer to him. The bar scene remained new to Blue, so she was not confident in her pertinence there yet, but she had started learning the employee’s names and such. It was beginning to feel a bit easier for her.
He sloppily served her a bit from his bottle, and she smiled. “No, it is alright.” She reassured nicely. It was a kind gesture, but she respectfully did not trust a beverage from him. He may have been a drunk. Who knew who he let touch his alcohol, or what was mixed with it?
She sat in silence watching him dope and stare at nothing for a minute, getting very bored before she finally gave up. The tender was taking a very long time to attend her. “Fine, I will try a bit of your port.” She rolled her eyes and laughed a bit. He seemed very eager to share a drink with her, so she took the glass and shot it down probably too fast considering what she was actually drinking. The girl cringed, remembering her complete void of tolerance for alcohol.
“Phew. I have no idea why I did that.” She facepalmed, hoping he would at least find her amusing to lessen the blow.
Lang. Surely a nickname, she thought. Who was he actually? It sounded like the name of a pirate, even. How she wished she could court a pirate. They seemed so cool, like a refreshing elixir to send one into a trance. However, she knew that was a delusion because of the things she had been told by her mother. Pirates were homosexuals, and Azucena was only permitted to court men of propriety. However, this swashbuckler-looking fellow was too handsome for her to reduce him to a drunkard. Perhaps she would develop a bit of a crush. That was if she could feel anything new at all.
He had asked her why she had come to the bar, and see, the only reason she had come to spend time at the black crow was because of stupid Harrison. It should have been great that he was enticing other ladies of the ton. After all, she hated him! But after spending so much time with the bastard, she had grown an attachment to the way he would be so sweetly insecure when his beard was uneven, or how he would draw out a diagram of his thoughts on a chalk board when he struggled to explain himself. Even the way he liked to curse the morning rooster because he was never a morning person. It was despicable! How dare he leave her!! And she said she hated him, but she only hated the way he betrayed her.
Not only him, but also her best friend. Aurelia, pictured beside him in that carriage blushing and seducing him.
She was simultaneously the girl laying beside Azucena in their matching bassinets, the girl sneaking books with her from the library and pretending they could read to each other, the girl who she had sent so many letters. And Lia had replied to none of them. She must have been so busy trying to steal her fiancé that she forgot!
To tempt a broken man he said…
Albeit, that would not hurt either. She decided that would be easier, but she could not tell him yet. For that would foil her conspiration.
“I suppose I am here for the same reason as you. I have been hurt, and I have come here to mend my wounds.” Azucena expressed her feelings with a sigh. “I apologize if I assumed your reason for being here incorrectly. I simply figured that since you were struggling to find your shoe, things may not be going well for you today.” She blushed, embarrassed at her crassness.
Orpheus watched the woman with careful intrigue, her hesitation at taking his offer of drink was to be expected. What was not expected was the speed with which she downed the port. Perhaps they would need to be each other’s distraction for the time being as it seemed the woman was in desperate need of one herself.
“Wrong, indeed, Lilith.” Orpheus gave a sad smile, taking a swig from his own bottle and pouring her another. “I am not here to mend my wounds…” Orpheus watched the bartender bring a fresh bottle of port, taking it and drinking a few more swallows. “I am here to watch them bleed…” Orpheus glanced down at the scars on his hands, some small and subtle, some larger cuts more pronounced in his palm.
Orpheus had used the bottle to forget his own mind, that much was true, but there was more to the endless nights alone than forgetting and drowning out the noise.
Orpheus drank night after night, to die.
As he drank, the world slowed, his body slowing with it. He had hoped he would see her in this state. He often did. In the shadows behind the street torches. In the empty window next to his. He drank to feel her closeness again. To hear her song. To join her.
Orpheus turned his attention back to the woman who sat next to him. The temporary kind of warmth she provided nearly mimicking the heat he craved so desperately.
“But, your wounds aretruly deserving of rapid recovery, my dear.” Orpheus let his hand linger on hers as he passed her back her glass. There was a surge of warm connection that passed between them, a kind of burn that Orpheus did not want to pull away from.
“Who would dare hurt awoman as lovely and kind asyourself? Not everylady picks up shoes of strangers or shares in theirsorrows. Surely, you are more deserving thanthe pain someone has brought you. If it be a man, he ishardly a gentleman. If it be a woman, shemust be jealous for there is currently nomaiden in this town as fair as you.” Orpheus’ eyes held sincerity despite the slurs of his speech. It did pain him to see a beautiful woman so in distress that she sought out the lowest of comforts. It was an agonizing kind of heart ache he would not wish on his worst enemy.
“Lilith…” Orpheus smiled at the sound of her name. A gentle kind of melody that ignited a fiery inspiration in his heart for a new song. An inspiration he would let burn out as he had time and time again. For no one deserved to inspire him while Lia was away. No song was worthy of construction while her ears could not listen. For the first time in his life, Orpheus found himself ignoring the song in his heart.
“I would never wound you…” Orpheus whispered, almost distantly as he glanced down at the bottle.
It was as if he was not speaking to the woman anymore, but to a far off figure at the bottom of the port. Orpheus felt the tears well in his eyes again and he attempted to hold them back.
“You deserve better.” Orpheus stated flatly, turning back to Lilith. “You need not tell me of your story ifyou do not wish, but knowyour measures as a woman are far greater than those who seekto hurt you.” Orpheus’ hands gripped the bottle. The idea of anyone hurting a lady so lovely made his blood boil.
However ironic it seemed.
The man pointed out his scarred hands… and she looked down on them in pity after shooting her port. His speech was beautifully poetic, but he sounded as though his poetry grew from sadness; like flowers born wilted, dead roses from the start.
She wished she could understand him better, but Lilith was not deep enough under the influence to put the pain she felt on her sleeve. For now, she just consoled him.
“What happened to your palms, Lang?” she asked. Hand scars usually meant a man had gotten into some sort of brawl, but those were on fists. His palms were those that bled. Her first thought was broken glass. It was that same issue she had. Where others broke apart walls, it was her heart that tore in half. Always melancholy, never the rage she laid dormant.
Lily asked for another port, and then another as they continued to talk. She needed them, and they kept stacking up.
“Thank you,” She told Lang, her reddish eyes closing slightly as the alcohol rocked her to sleep. “If I told you the first direct reason I was here; it would be because my greatest companion thieved away my betrothed. However, that would be shallow.” The girl looked down, remorseful of her seeming superficiality. She did not want to say more, but she could not hold back her sadness, swirling around her stomach with the alcohol.
“The truth would be that… I must now grieve a friendship, and a love at once. I must grieve the appeal of my purity, and my value as a wife now that I am no longer betrothed. I must grieve the strength I held against my family when they said they did not believe in me.” Lillith settled, adding more than she intended to her explanation as she remembered more reasons to be upset, and more reasons why she could share them with this kind stranger.
She chuckled at his compliments, presuming they did not mean much. “I do appreciate your words, but you are drunk. You do not know me.” Azucena suspired softly. He was truly speaking to her so kindly, yet it did not fix her perception of the woman she was.
A person who met Azu years into the future might have thought her to be confident, but how could she do that now? She was malnourished by mother, squeezing her into the corsets of a doll. Agatha locked her in closets when she did not sit straight, and father loved her. But not the older variation of her character.
Now, her beloved had abandoned her. Perhaps there was another, perhaps the other was himself. What was his excuse, though? She was dull. Her truth was unsettling, and she was not intelligent enough to be loved by a man of valor.
What is being kind if you are not beautiful?
Azucena drank from another port as he told of how he would treat her. The toxins coursed through her veins like poison.
“Really?” She asked, oblivious to his wandering gaze. The sound of his love wrapped its arms around her, in an embrace she needed as much as she had been raised to reject it. It had been years since she had felt that touch from anyone, and it would probably be a few more. Yet this was close. Close enough.
Orpheus’ words slurred and slowed, but she, with a grace that defied his own inebriation, continued to speak in perfect form. Despite his struggle to maintain consciousness, her presence was a beacon in the hazy night, and he found solace in the midst of the blurred lines and dulled senses, as he attempted to keep his eyes open to her enchanting presence.
As Orpheus’ eyes slowly pulled their way from his scarred palms to her visage once more, Orpheus could not help a smile that formed slowly across his face. Truly, it had been the first smile his features had known in some time.
“What happened to your palms, Lang?” Lilith asked as she poured herself another drink.
“Ah,” Orpheus started, awkwardly pulling his sleeves down to attempt to shield his palms from view. Although not secret, the scarring on his arms and hands always unnerved him. They held memories of a past that he would rather forget. “An accident is all. Broken glass can be quite sharp, it seems.” Orpheus laughed at his own joke, turning his body to face her again.
As they drank, the conversation seemed to flow with such ease, Orpheus thought he might be swept away by the undeniable charm the woman possessed. It was true that Orpheus had entertained many ladies in this very bar, using them as crutches for his own emotional desires. However, Lilith held a special sort of allure that he could not pry himself away from. It was as if her very being held its own gravitational pull, and Orpheus, as he was the moon in motion, was pulled into her orbit.
“The truth would be that… I must now grieve a friendship, and a love at once…” Orpheus felt a twisted sort of excitement at her words. The tragedy of losing a friend and a lover, oh, he knew that pain like a never ending knife, continually driving itself deeper into his chest. That pain was his own. That pain drove him here too.
And, if this woman, this bar maiden, could understand the suffering he felt, then perhaps destiny herself had brought the two together so that they might comfort each other in their shared grief over port and dried tears. So that perhaps, with time, Orpheus would learn mend his wounds, as she stated, instead of letting them continue to bleed.
“I know your pain in a way I cannot put into words, Lilith, for I, too, suffer from such an affliction. The grief of my lost love has weighed onme for many moons now. It is an inescapable sort of pain. It seems some children are born with tragedy in their veins…” Orpheus glanced down at his scars again, tightening his fists around the bottle he held. “But, I have found that you can think thatyou are in love when youare really just in pain…knowing that, I come here now, to numb it.” Orpheus admitted, the shame of his drinking growing into a red blush on his cheek.
“This to say, you are not alone in your torment, my love.” Orpheus looked to her, his eyes gentle and warm despite the coldness of the words he spoke previously.
“For as long as you suffer, I will suffer alongside you.” Orpheus took another swig of his wine, the familiarity of his words stinging his throat and burning his eyes with tears. He forced himself to meet Lilith’s eyes again.
Those beautiful blue eyes.
“I do appreciate your words, but you are drunk. You do not know me…” As she spoke, Orpheus placed a quieting hand on hers, his gaze locked on her features. The warmth of her hand under his own fueled a sudden desire for closeness. A sudden desire for her.
“I need not know you. For I understand your heart.” Orpheus’ voice was nearly whispered as he searched her eyes. Blue eyes. Not brown. Blue. Unfamiliarly deep eyes. Ocean eyes. Ones that called to him as a sirens song to a lost ship. He reminded himself of their distinction over and over again.
As quickly as he felt the pull toward her growing stronger, he pulled away, his hand darting from hers with a sharpness as he wrapped both hands around his glass again.
“My apologies…I must have forgotten myself.” Orpheus muttered, attempting to shake the thoughts from his mind. The thoughts that should not be there. Thoughts unfit for a gentleman.
Orpheus could hear the steady beat of his heart in his ears.
One, two, three
One, two, three
If Aurelia knew of his activities. If she were around to see him like this, what would she think?
But she is not here.
The small voice in his head reminded him.
Aurelia had been gone for weeks now, the hollowness of her absence was something Orpheus could never shake, even now. He longed for her more and more with each passing day, yet he knew she was lost to him, perhaps, irreparably.
Despite this, he cried for her, he drank to her, he whispered her name in his sleep.
And he could never escape her, not really, as her memory forever haunted his lingering thoughts.
Just as Orpheus was about to be pulled back into the darkest recesses of his own torment, Lilith spoke up beside him again.
“Really?” She asked. There was a lingering emotion in her face, a sort of longing that reflected Orpheus’ own heart.
They were the same, the pair of them.
Two scorned lovers, having lost more than they could afford, drinking their sorrows into submission, desperately searching for closeness.
A closeness they could provide each other.
“Really.” Orpheus answered, his mind lightening again. The gentle tug of his desperation pulling him back into alignment, within her reach.
“You deserve an encompassing love. One without expectation or limitation, one that fulfills your every desire, and thrills your every waking moment. If your lost love did not accomplish that task, then he, and your friend, are both at a loss. For I have known you for merely a night, and I know your company is worth one thousand fleeting romances, Lilith.” Orpheus slowly moved his hand to hers again, tilting his head slightly to discern whether she would pull away this time.
She did not.
“Thank you…for not leaving me alone to my despair this night. I, for one, have cherished your conversation. However, the morning grows near, and the port grows short at hand. I should be going.” Orpheus lifted her hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss as he stood.
The burn of alcohol still swirled his senses, but he maintained his posture as he moved. The bitter glare of a soft morning light began to peak just outside the windows of the bar.
Had they talked for that long?
“Go safely, my dear.” Orpheus tilted his head in a short bow, turning to leave before he stopped short of the back door she had come in through.
“Oh, and-“ Orpheus turned back to her, his eyes holding a softness to them as he spoke. “Perhaps, do not linger too long on the lost. You never know what you might find when you let yourself…” Orpheus cut himself short, his drunken rambles losing their original intent.
“Until next time, lovely Lilith. I will think of you.” Orpheus took his final bow, stumbling through the back door and out into the still-dark, morning glow.
As he made the exasperating journey back home, his feet ached, his stomach churned, and his lips…curled into a brilliant smile.
”Until next time.” He had told her.
It had been a promise he intended to keep.
He did not seem to desire a discussion of his injuries. Azucena pitied him initially, figuring he might have been under an angry spell which caused him to break a bottle as he drank his sorrows away. Considering his general physique, and what little Azucena could assume of his character, he appeared to be a well gathered gentleman who was kind and dignified.
However, in this setting, she saw more than she knew of most men. Even Harrison had not collapsed in front of her in such a manner. It was enlightening; to enter another scene of life and earn a conociment that a man can feel as strongly as she, his glass heart breaking to the same shattering sound of hers. It felt as though so many people in her life she observed from afar, and spoke to across rooms. He, however, stood close enough for her to see the rise and fall of his chest through scattered breaths, and the veins of his skin dilate and contract when he spoke with passion.
If she saw another behave the same, she would most likely have vindicated the fellow.
Perhaps that were the reason she felt so much prejudice. She saw others struggling, but never connected with them intimately enough for her to feel their pain too.
It was strangely gorgeous, to know someone better than their friends while they were simultaneously a stranger. She did not know his second name, but she knew his last thoughts before bed, and why it was he could not sleep. How odd, that was.
The girl tried to disregard her curiousity. “I see.” She said quietly, tempted to embrace him a bit more.
She gave in; taking his hands and clasping them with her own. She no longer cared if it stained her fingers red. “I see your regret,” She corrected her previous statement. “Do not blame yourself for this accident, for I do not know you either, yet I do know that throughout the entirety of this conversation you have made me feel nothing but better. And I would like to return that favor to you.” She gave a small smile when she pulled away, warming up to him slowly.
It was this place in which Azucena could reveal a bit more of her humanity. By day, Blue was well aware she is percieved as a conceited noble girl, who had never known struggle, and cried as she bathed in diamonds. They knew she was never one to comment on public controversy, and turned a blind eye to the agony of others in order to avoid conflict for herself. Really, she surprised herself as well.
Azucena also knew her hands were cold, and she had a different sized utensil for each course of her meal. She knew she slept in silk sheets, and would detect a pea beneath her mattress if there it lied. Where did this sudden empathy come from?
He concurred in her wallows, and for some unknown reason, she was a bit stung by his mention of another beloved. She imagined this woman he spoke of. In her head she was a brunette, with a small, sharp nose and brown doe eyes. Traditional, but soft, in the same way he was. Like they had a great love, before she disappeared. She feared to ask what happened, and instead imagined she was struck by illness. Of course, that question might have hurt to hear, and might have broken him if he replied.
Suffering together. She pondered the thought. If they had both been in love, and both been let down, what did that make their relationship? It was not a second chance. For now, at least, she saw him in a more platonic light. Could they be friends? That seemed rather ill-fit considering their roles as members of the opposite sex. However, it did feel fitting considering their dynamic.
They were birds on a wire, and if that was enough to soothe her heartache, she was conformed. He seemed her shoulder to cry, and she could be the pillow he held to feel less lonely.
“Thank you.” She told him. “And I do not mean to ask too much of you, but do tell. What was this woman to you?” She asked, referring to the status of their relationship. She wondered if he had loved, perhaps he had been married. She wished to read his fables, and the legends he told of his life outside of that room.
She noticed his blush, and her gaze softened. “You may share as you wish, Lang. I will not judge you.” Azu reassured him, feeling the roots of their blossoming friendship rise to a clear sprout.
He placed a hand on hers, and she did not move from this position. Unexpectedly, she was at peace with this touch, where she otherwise would have tucked her hand at her side. Perhaps it was the influence of the tonic she had been ingesting, but she had felt tempted to draw nearer, closer to her new friend. Make him feel warm.
He understood her heart. The thought of that perplexed her, yet she agreed. In just a few hours, he had comprehended much more about her than the fickle few who attempted to for months, even years. “Come to think of it, I do agree with you. And I thank you for hearing me, I do not remember the last occurence where I spoke with someone this way.” The girl admitted, opening up as she continued.
Suddenly, he pulled away, and her expression faltered. Come back. She thought. But as her training demands, she ignored his retraction. Azucena said nothing, just nodded and allowed him to continue.
Really. He assured her, continuing on a whim. She felt appreciated, and her cheek grew a rosy color. “Thank you.” She said, for what felt like the thousandth time in their interaction. He was too kind. He placed his hand back where it had been before, and she felt tempted to pull away. However, as he looked her in the eyes, she supposed it would not be the worst idea to stay.
He said his goodbyes, indicating at the sun emerging on the horizon. It did not seem possible for it to have been so long since she first arrived. She assumed she would be leaving soon as well. She allowed him to speak, returning into her shy capsule that contained her spirit, listening as he continued speaking in his lovely junction of speech.
“Next time.” She nodded quietly, watching as he left.
Then, she looked to the bartender and they waited until he was sure to have left for her to see herself out, riding back home in her carriage as the horses galloped quickly, attempting to return before sunrise. The girl snuck back into the comfort of her quarters, pleased to know that her rather pitiful day had brightened at some point.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years she had been alive, and she had yet to resolve the many conflicts that faced her. So many dreams to chase still, so much time to continue running.
Perhaps this encounter had been a gift from Him, giving her a bit of hope within what she feared to have lost. What a wonderful gift to receive; a conversation where she could share what she did not, and a fresh voice to confide in. She, too, wished to meet him again.
Until next time. She thought when she settled into her bedsheets, suspiring for her slumber.
mentioned:
Lia (@benitz786)
Harrison (@Kristi)
and uh
@sunflowerjm @Jass just bc you guys should read
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.
