Fool's Rook [Closed]

[saronym]

Under Darcias’ gaze Owen was again an object of Darkwillow curiosity. What an annoyance. To say he wasn’t interested in the magic that re-animated him would be a lie. He wondered whether she could see residual magic on him, like cat hair on black slacks.What if could she smell it? Smell the magic that made his corpse move with life, like perfume masked cigarette smoke.

Owen blinked in surprise when he watched Darcias unlock her door without touching it. An involuntary shiver rolled down his spine. It was either unseasonably chilly as she had suggested or Owen had tricked himself into thinking he could sense that little bit of magic. He rubbed his arms self-consciously to calm the goose pimples as he followed Darcias into her office.

“I suppose it feels a bit like a Wednesday…” Owen said pensively. The words trailed off as he stood awkwardly staring at the elegant display Darcias made of herself. He was feeling somewhat … enchanted, or disarmed, by her. Maybe it was the whole scene. The tiny teacups, the smell of the air in the office. Something about her hospitality, or her display of intuition in informing him of the simple fact of the date. It was all eroding away the edge to the anger he’d brought with him.

At last, Owen closed the distance, eased obediently into the seat indicated for him, and accepted the teacup. He frowned at the tea suspiciously before finally tasting it. It wasn’t bad, he thought to himself, for likely poisoned with evil Darkwillow magic. He was really more bothered by the reminder of his wife’s birthday than by his paranoia.

“There’s no birthday present that could top having her husband back, don’t you agree?” Owen didn’t give Darcias much of a choice to disagree, flashing a brief smile as if the gift of his presence was undeniable. What a gift, indeed. “Well that is, if she could remember she has a husband.” He added pointedly.

Owen sighed when Darcias broached the subject of why he was there. He hated the idea of coming to beg for help from a sister-in-law he barely knew. When and how had he gone from intending to issue demands and ultimatums to begging? He could at least appreciate that Darcias was direct and to the point.

“Look,” Owen abandoned the teacup with little care clinking it noisily against the desk without thinking to place it back on the matching saucer. “I don’t give a damn whether you or Kama or Sairus despise me. But I trust that you can agree that Julianna deserves the opportunity to make her own choices about what to do with her prodigal husband. That having been said … I’d appreciate your ... cooperation in remedying whatever you’ve done to her mind.”

Owen paused a few times to ensure he chose the right words. He was satisfied with his diplomacy but almost regretted not adding a few fuck words.