This freebie story for my Work in Progress, The Players Are the Thing was the result. I was astonished at how nice Beatrix was in this story. Usually she's a lot grumpier and borderline abusive. Maybe Zoe's presence is a positive influence on her...
The yorkshire pudding rose, crisp on edges, golden pale in others, just as it should be.
Rhane breathed a sigh of relief. She never knew how her puddings would turn out. This one would be good.
It had been just another day. She’d worked in the library for a few hours before coming back to her apartment. Beatrix wasn’t there, but Beatrix was often gone for long hours. It might be because of work. It might be because of something else.
Well, tonight she was in for a surprise.
Rhane glanced over at the small, black velvet bag. Inside were various cloudy shades of purple ten-sided dice. Beatrix’s favorite color was purple.
Things would never be perfect. Something would go wrong, something had been going wrong on a regular basis. Either Beatrix was in a bad mood or Rhane was. This was why she wasn’t hoping for perfect. Was nice too much for ask for?
At this point, Rhane would settle for tolerable.
The door opened onto a dark head and coat, splattered with rain and animated conversation. Beatrix wasn’t alone.
“…the thing to know if you’re playing Rhiannon is you never reveal too much to anyone. Your secrets and what side you’re on are a mystery.” Beatrix stopped talking, brown eyes alight, high cheekbones flushed. “I’m a little sad to let her go, but Rhiannon should be one of the player characters.”
“I’ll remember that and try to be worthy of her.” Beatrix’s companion shook out her dark curls, sending droplets of water flying. Green eyes in an oval face searched the room, only to light up when they settled upon Rhane.
Rhane froze at the familiarity, but she couldn’t place this girl. What’s more, she was in Beatrix’s apartment on a work night. Beatrix never brought home company except on the days she ran her roleplaying game. The company always came to her.
“It smells wonderful.” The girl breathed in, the nostrils of her snubbed nose flaring. She glanced over at the tray. “Is that yorkshire pudding? I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Rhane, did you cook?” Beatrix frowned in the direction of the sinking pudding. “It’s too late at night for a full meal. Certainly too late for anything as heavy as yorkshire pudding. You’ll get sick.”
“I know, but I really wanted to make it. I wanted to do something special.” Tongue sticking to the top of her mouth, Rhane flapped a hand in the direction of the dice bag.”
“Are those dice?” The oddly familar girl glanced over at the bag.
“Excellent timing. Zoe will need some when she joins our troupe.” Beatrix picked up the bag, fished inside for a purple die. “These are pretty, very pretty. I’m tempted to keep them for myself.”
“I bought them for you.” Rhane’s voice sounded small and weak in her own ears. “I thought you’d like them.”
“I do, but Zoe doesn’t have any dice of her own. You remember Zoe, don’t you?” Beatrix tapped a finger against her side in an impatient rhythm. “We met her in the cafe across from the library where you work. She came up and introduced herself when she overheard us talking about gaming.”
“I certainly remember you.” Zoe gazed at Beatrix with an intensity which made Rhane feel a bit flushed. “I noticed you in the library before I spoke to you in the cafe. You have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“I..err…thank you,” Rhane stammered. She glanced at Beatrix, wondering if she’d object or say something to the effect that she and Rhane were a couple.
Not that Rhane was sure if they were a couple. They lived together, slept together, and gamed together, but something they felt worlds apart.
Like now. Beatrix didn’t even notice that someone else was coming very close to flirting with Rhane. She was too busy holding up the die, admiring it from every angle.
At least Rhane had been right about the dice. Beatrix did like them, even if she was ready to give them to someone else.
“I wanted to speak to you, but something about your eyes made me shy.” Zoe lowered her head. “Only I overheard you and Beatrix talking about your game and Amberwyne.” She lifted her chin and grinned, dispelling the tension her compliment had generated. “I could resist no longer. I had to talk to you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Rhane smiled back, thinking back at moments in the library when she’d been shelving, organizing the catalogue, or lost in her own thoughts. She’d look up, feeling like someone was watching her. Only everyone had been absorbed in their books.
Had it been Zoe?
“I’m surprised you’re here now.” Rhane glanced over at the third woman in the room, who was oddly apart from this. “Beatrix doesn’t usually bring people home.”
“Well, I met Beatrix in the street. We started talking about the game and she told me about Rhiannon. The mysterious stranger who appears out of nowhere to help Amberwyne, much to Isolde’s chagrin.” Zoe lifted a hand to run through her tousled black curls. “It seemed it would be easier to play her, an existing character than to create somebody new.”
“That’s true,” Rhane murmured, studying Beatrix out of the corner of her eye. She was digging through the dice bag, admiring its contents. “I’m surprised you’re willing to give Rhiannon up. Isn’t she your favorite non-player character?”
“Yes, but she’ll get to do so much more if she’s one of the player characters.” Beatrix shrugged her way out of her coat and let it drop on the floor. “Sometimes you have to let someone go that you love.”
Rhane moved to pick up the coat, irritated at the off hand gesture of dropping her clothes on the floor. Sometimes Beatrix did these little things as if she expected a servant to come and clean up after her. There were no servants here, unless Beatrix regarded Rhane as some kind of servant.
There were moments when Rhane wondered if she was. She should leave the damned coat. Much as she hated picking up after Beatrix, she hated disorder more. Someone had to try to keep things organized in the apartment.
She felt Zoe’s eyes on her as she folded the coat over her arm and carried it the closet. Their apartments would have clothes, dice and books strewn everywhere, not to mention dirty dishes in the sink if Rhane didn’t clean up. There should be at least clear walking paths through the apartment. Rhane tended to daydream and trip over things otherwise.
Rhane fumbled for a hanger, feeling self conscious and awkward as she wrestled the coat onto it. “Will you be joining Mona and I for next Saturday’s game, Zoe?”
“That’s the hopeful plan.” Zoe slid into a seat at the table and rested her chin on her hands. “I’m pretty excited. It’s been too long.” She winked at Rhane. “It sounds like Isolde and I are going to be rivals for Amberwyne’s attention.”
“Oh, not you, too,” Beatrix groaned, looking up at last from her examination of the dice. “Don’t get carried away with romantic subtext.” The game master rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen. “Mona and Rhane are constantly derailing the plot, going off on tangents where Amber and Isolde look deep into each other’s eyes.” Beatrix picked up a knife and scowled at it. “I feel like I should describe the trees, weeping sap.” She carried the blade over to the tray.
“Beatrix, no.” Rhane made a distressed little movement toward the kitchen. “Let me do that. You’ve been working all day.”
“So have you.” Beatrix sawed the pudding into three, rough chunks. “Besides you bought me dice. This is the least I can do.” She eyed the nearby pan. “Are those sausages and creamed spinach? I’m surprised you didn’t make toads in the hole.”
“And I wonder if Rhane didn’t guess I was coming to visit.” Zoe lowered long eyelashes over green eyes. “She made enough for three.”
“Well, um, if you’d like to join us.” Rhane felt herself blush again. “Let me take your coat.”
“No need.” Zoe shrugged out of her black covering, revealing a purple and red bodice, trimmed with black lace. “I’ll put it away.”
Rhane tried not to stare at the creamy, exposed flesh, the rounded limbs while Zoe moved to claim a hanger, sliding her coat on it with an easy grace Rhane could only envy. This woman was an old fashioned French postcard in all too alluring way.
“Go ahead and sit down. Both of you.” Beatrix had her back turned, oblivious to Zoe’s attributes or Rhane’s reaction to them. She was busy dishing creamed spinach and sausages onto three plates already covered with yorkshire pudding. “I’ll bring you food.”
“This was a really nice surprise.” Zoe dropped into a seat with the same elegance she’d slid her coat onto a hanger. “It’s been a long time since I’ve a home cooked meal. It’s been ever longer since I’ve had yorkshire pudding.”
“You haven’t had real yorkshire pudding until you’ve had Rhane’s.” Beatrix brought a couple of plates to the table. “This recipe has been in her family for generations. It’s better than any I’ve ever tried. You can tell her ancestors are from Yorkshire.” She plopped a dish in front of Zoe. “Rhane, stop fidgeting and sit down.”
Rhane, unable to stop fidgeting, slunk into her seat, feeling awkward and useless. All right, she’d made dinner, but watching Beatrix bustle around the kitchen made her anxious.
“It’s all right.” Zoe smiled and leaned a little closer. “She’s been worried about you lately. She wanted to do something for you, even if it was something small.”
Hearing those words eased some of tension in Rhane’s neck and chest.
She waited until Beatrix sat down with her own plate of food.
Almost as one, each woman reached for her fork and broke off a piece of yorkshire pudding.
Rhane popped hers into her mouth. It had turned out as delicious as she’d hoped.
Very nice! I really got a sense of Beatrix's character through Rhane's eyes. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you! Beatrix really came to life this time as more than the often antagonistic character she can be. Rhane brings a lot of myself to her character. (wry grin) I'm glad you enjoyed this. Thank you for stopping by!
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