The valet ducked his head, stepping back and turning to retrieved the named doublet while Enzo fastened his gold ascot with a pin. He was not fond of this trend. But it was the trend, and he could not very well be seen at the opera without it. With the pin in place, Ezno turned his attention to his form as a whole in the large mirror. His white shirt fit well, close to his frame though the sleeves puffed slightly. His black breeches and polished black boots were, thankfully, timeless in style and incredibly comfortable. He'd shaved just an hour ago, leaving his jawline perfectly smooth. The flecks of grey did not usually bother him but he wanted no reminder of time's cruel march tonight.
"My lord." the valet said, dipping his head as he approached holding up the doublet. Enzo turned and stepped over to the man, taking the bottom part of the garment into his own hands while the valet held it at the shoulders. The gold filigree stitching caught in the light, as did the gleam of the buttons. It was velvet, with a comfortable weight to it, though it would be warm. But Enzo would be doing little more than sitting, after all, so he was not concerned on that front. He gave the valet a nod and turned back to face the mirror. Holding his arms out, the valet lifted the doublet onto Enzo's frame, then stepped deftly around him to secure the buttons. When he'd finished, Enzo dismissed him to have the carriage brought around.
When he'd gone, Enzo regarded himself once again. He turned, first to one side, then the other. His jaw clenched and nostrils flared until he could feel the strain in his teeth and he forced a deep breath in and then out to ease the tension. He was being ridiculous, surely. Leaning in closer to the mirror, he fretted for a moment with a few of his curling locks until he had to stifle a growl and step away from the mirror. He paced the dressing room, hands on his hips and his lower lip between his teeth.
On a nearby desk, two letters sat open. One having arrived that afternoon from the lady he'd invited to the opera expressing her regret that she could not accompany him. He didn't bother reading her reasoning. He knew it was a lie, whatever it was. The second letter had arrived not long after the first. It was from Legatus, informing him that his assignment would be in attendance and that Enzo should use his newfound freedom to make contact.
How convenient.
The valet returned to inform him that the carriage was ready. Enzo dropped both letters into the fireplace and followed him out without a word. He kept the drapes closed during his transit in an effort to keep his contempt for his fellow high houses at bay for as long as possible. It was rare these days that he could look at the homes of his neighbors without feeling the bile rise in his throat. Envy was best held back by giving as little stimulation as possible. But, with nothing but the walls of the carriage to catch his eye, Enzo was left to consider his assignment.
Six years was not so long a time, all things considered. But without any contact at all, so much could have changed in that span of time. Until only just recently, he'd succumbed to the morbid assumption that they'd never lay eyes on each other again. He'd never felt so much joy at being wrong, but now there was uncertainty. Had Tiberius changed? He must have. Enzo had. Would Tiberius no longer recognize him? Would he want to? Enzo had heard Tiberius had found a bride in Orlais. Perhaps he would now be focused on his House and its station. If so, he'd be wise to keep Enzo at arm's length like the other houses. Their past friendship would do him no favors now if Tiberius wished to lift House Umbra into an Altus standing.
The carriage came to a stop and Enzo cleared his throat, remembering his posture as the footman opened the door. He stepped out into the cool night air, glancing about with casual indifference set into his features. Clusters of nobles dotted the marble steps leading up to the grand entrance of the opera house. Enzo took the steps at a leisurely pace, offering smiles and polite tilts of his head to his supposed peers. If Legatus was correct, and he always was, the Umbra House carriage would be arriving soon.
He probably should have invited Lyric. The opera was a good place to make an entrance. A little bit of time, before and after the performance. Intermission. He could have been by her side all night, taking pains to make every introduction easy. Smoothing over anything strange that she might have said.
But Tiberius hadn’t. There was so much still wrong with House Umbra and with everything else. The country as well, a serpent coiled tighter and tighter upon itself. He’d been careful so far but he was going to make a mistake eventually. Say something flippant about superior Orlesian wine and get his entire family into deep shit. Or at least, that was the fear.
Social appearances were important, though. Look guilty or scared and people might imagine that you were. So, he’d come alone in the same warded carriage that he’d made the trip from Orlais in. Same undead, demon-possessed horses too, somewhat worse from the wear. It drew a few odd stares to be sure.
Tiberius had taken care to dress the part tonight, though not necessarily to current fashions. His coat was tailored to hug his body, vaguely military in style with fringed epaulets and frog closures on the breast. It was all in shades of black, a wool-silk blend that suited the spring evening. The back and collar dripped with shiny black beads in a starburst pattern. His nails were lacquered a pearly white, with tiny purple garnets along the cuticle line on his thumbs and ring fingers only. Black kohl liner accented his eyes.
And for a moment, all that finery was all for naught. He spotted the House Pavus carriage and nearly decided to turn back. But how would that look? Besides, they were already pulling into the queue, the idle rich of Minrathous disgorging from their vehicles in sparkling clusters. Tiberius joined then, vacillating wildly between excitement and fear.
This could not possibly be good for him. He found himself looking for Enzo anyway.
His mouth was dry. He could hear the blood coursing through his veins with each beat of his heart. In the hazy periphery that had formed in his vision, he saw the slightly nervous movements of the ladies he'd been speaking to. With a blink, Enzo shook his head slightly, allowing his well practiced smile to take a slightly bashful tone as he tore his eyes away from the black carriage that had just approached the line.
"My apologies, Lady Portia. I was just so dazzled by your lovely earrings. May I?" he asked, stepping forward as the lady blushed slightly. Moving to her side, he gently grasped the dangling pearl, ensuring that his finger just slightly grazed the skin of her neck. Turning to the other ladies, each old enough to be his mother. "They bring out her eyes, do they not?" he asked, eliciting nods from all. "Your husband is a lucky man. Oh, and I see he has come to collect you."
Enzo took Lady Portia's gloved hand and hovered a kiss over the knuckles. He then bid farewell to the ladies and turned back to the line of carriages, eyes searching quickly. But it had gone. Or perhaps it had never been there at all. Had he imagined it? The clock at the opposite end of the square chimed the hour and Enzo found himself desperately scanning the faces of all who turned to walk inside. He could already be in there, Enzo thought. Or... Had he imagined it? A man, turned away too quickly, but with just the same cut to his beard as Tiberius has worn.
Enzo stepped quickly to follow the crowd inside, trying to catch sight of the man once again. There, beyond a family parading their line of newly of age daughters like so many ducks on their way to a pond. The right height and build. The same color hair. Speaking with a very round and red nosed old man. Enzo circled, hands straightening imagined wrinkles from his doublet, until the man's face came into view and his steps stopped abruptly.
Had time stopped in all the rest of Thedas, leaving only Tevinter to age while the barrier stood. Time had not touched Tiberius. Much of the tension that had been holding Enzo rigid melted off of him and he breathed deeply as an unconscious smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Six years... He'd not known if Tiberius was alive or dead, if he was happy. The round old man was walking away now and gravity pulled Enzo closer.
"Has Orlais been hiding a fountain of youth?" Enzo said, his gaze starting at Tiberius' boots and climbing upward until he gazed into his face, smile pulling one side of his mouth up slightly. "If so, blight be damned, we should invade tomorrow.
Tiberius found himself swept along with the tide flowing into the opera house, prickling at every lingering stare or knowing smile. This part was, unfortunately, unavoidable. This feeling of being out of place, among the people and places he’d been raised alongside. He didn’t see Enzo, or Mal, or anyone he knew well at all.
Many that he knew of, however. He found himself smiling at old Lucillius, another Laetan lordling perhaps from his father’s cohort. Ruddy and red nosed, the old man probably had a drinking problem – he certainly spoke like he was already drunk. Lascivious questions about Orlesion ladies, and one in particular.
If Lyric were actually here, Tiberius might have felt compelled to make a show of things. As it were, he simply pretended to be an idiot, complimenting the dowager empress in a florid but overall nonsensical manner.
“Eyes like the mold on the very best of cheeses. Thighs like ...” So on and so forth, until he wasn’t looking at Lucillius at all. Enzo was just there, some distance beyond the old man’s whiskered cheek. His gaze was riveted. Iron bands constrained his lungs, a terrifying skew of emotion that he wasn’t ready to deal with right now.
Until Enzo spoke, and attention slid to him. Half a dozen unmasked faces turning to see how one sheep might speak to another, one prodigal and one black.
“Oh, nothing like that. You’ll recall that my family is exceptionally long lived?” Not to mention that there were few better illusionists living. He made his excuses to Lucillius, promising to pick up their acquaintance again soon. “Perhaps we’ve had that fountain all along.
“Now tell me that your family still maintains a box, Pavus, and invite me up. I’d rather like to enjoy the balcony view tonight.”
Enzo gave old Lucillius a mechanical nod as the man departed, eyes never fully letting Tiberius escape his sight. If he looked away -if he blinked, even- Tiberius might just disappear into the shadows his House was known for. When Lucillius was gone, and they were as alone as two men standing in the crowded atrium of an opera house could be, Enzo stepped forward. Propriety be damned. Enzo caught Tiberius in an embrace, his arms circling around the other man and pulling him tight.
Sandalwood... a shock of memory caught his breath in his throat for a moment. Campfires on a beach. Sweet red wine...
In something like panic, Enzo's eyes opened and he moved his hands to the sides of Tiberius' shoulders. He stepped back, gave Tiberius a firm pat on the arm and attempted to clear his throat as quietly as possible. A smile followed, clumsy and a bit over wide as his eyes flitted about, wondering at what might be whispered about him now.
"Of course. Of course." he said, releasing one of Tiberius' arms and gently turning him by the other toward the stairway up to the balcony boxes. "Same spot, though less frequented of late. It would be an honor to have you and..." Maker take him. Had he really just done all that, completely ignoring Tiberius' fiancee? Looking around though, there was no woman -Orlesian persuasion or not- standing awkwardly by.
"Have you come alone, then?" he asked, his voice low enough not to be overheard in case this was a sensitive subject, but not so low as to be construed as worthy of aggressive eavesdropping.
Enzo had always been freer with touch; the embrace was not a surprise. Tiberius returned it with a grin, the blended scents of his ex lover’s shaving bar and hair oil more achingly familiar than anything else there. Ruined as Enzo pulled away, something haunted in his eyes. They’d always been more careful than this, but surely they were beyond fear of discovery by now? The way the Tilanis were living, supposedly inseparable, two women together in higher society than this.
Unless that wasn’t what this was at all. They had not, exactly, parted on easy terms. For the first time, Tiberius had been the one to go away, chasing someone else’s idea of duty. He slipped back into somber neutrality, letting Enzo steer him to the stairs. Remembering every time it had been the other way. Enzo leaving, to war or to his own doomed marriage, over before any vows were said.
“The roads were dangerous. Darkspawn in Orlais, undead in Nevarra. Miss Nicollier is resting at home.” Perhaps she was – or perhaps she’d sneak out. He could only hope that she had the good sense to avoid getting caught. Whatever else he was in that woman’s mind, he would not be her jailer too. Tiberius followed Enzo into the box, feeling slight pressure in his ears as the old spellwork within came to life. Privacy spells – that your conversation might not disturb other guests. Only the High Houses – and apparently, those that had once been among their number – had so much privilege.
Tiberius simply stood and watched his friend, back to a heavy curtain, gaze eventually fixed on that gold neckcloth. Parts of his mind that had been dormant for some time began to turn slowly, inventing games to play with that. His mouth went dry and he shook off the fancy like a bad dream, marching to the front of the box and taking a seat by the rail. His status would have afforded him a good seat, near the stage.
This was better. Imagine being seated next to Lucillius all night.
“For whatever it's worth, Enzo, I am sorry. I never meant to be gone so long.”
All that... Enzo did not fault this Miss Nicolier her need for rest. Even if it was a lie, she'd likely find Minrathaus a daunting place. It would be a kindness to expose her slowly. "Well, I pray she rests well. I must admit, I am eager to meet the woman who managed to lock YOU down." he said, teasing. But it was a curiosity. Tiberius had always been a particular sort. Choosing his friends carefully, his lovers more careful still.
And besides that, Enzo had his orders. So much time away from home could turn a mind. Add the influence of a new love? Tevinter did not like competing for loyalty. Even the slightest suggestion... But Enzo pushed all of that from his mind. Plenty of time for that later. He'd not get what Legatus wanted in one night. Better to not worry about it at all. Better to put it out of his mind entirely.
Leading Tiberius into the booth, Enzo found himself keenly aware of the man's presence as he stepped to the side board. A bottle of red had been prepared, decanting in a wide bottomed container. He considered it for a moment while the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. No, this would not do. He was about to call for something else when Tiberius sat and spoke. He turned, regarding Tiberius' profile for a moment, a soft smile forming on his lips.
"I can hardly require an apology." stepping over, Enzo put his hand on Tiberius' should for a brief moment. "You were following orders, of a sort. And no one could have known the world would just go to shit while you were away." And gone to shit it had.
Enzo took up the decanter and stepped out of the booth placing it immediately into the hands of a butler who stood waiting in the hall to be of service. "Champagne. Two glasses." he said, then stepped back inside. He found it hard not to stare at Tiberius, but he did tear is eyes from the man to look out at the theater. It was an effort to keep his nose from curling as he considered the other Altus Houses in their booths. Some had petitioned to remove Pavus ownership, but the opera house could hardly snub such regular patrons. Too much of the budget was paid by Pavus donations. They could take his vote, but not his wealth.
A knock saved him from further persevering on his mistreatment and Enzo received the tray, dismissing the butler without a word. He set the tray down on the sideboard and uncorked the champagne, breaking the silence. "For what it's worth," he said, echoing Tiberius' own words as he poured, "You were sorely missed."
Bringing the glasses over, Enzo sat down, eschewing a formal toast and simply holding his glass out. "To your long awaited return." He drank, then allowed a slight sigh to escape him. "Now, tell me... who has harassed you since returning? Besides me, of course." he chuckled. "I imagine you're a desired commodity in The Game these days."
Enzo busied himself fussing with the wine. It drew Tiberius’s attention, a twinge of old paranoia that made him uncomfortably aware of his own breathing, of his pulse. No one with access to this room could have known he’d be here tonight.
And anyone wanting to poison Pavus had had the opportunity to do so on any number of nights past.
“I wish I’d been ordered to stay.” By higher powers than the head of his House – or at least warned. Or asked. Still, that anyone was strong enough to put a barrier around the whole country, especially without lengthy preparation … It was hard to believe, impossible to predict. Probably also treason to look too hard at, considering how heavily the Archon was credited with the act. He lifted his hand to his shoulder, briefly running his thumb along the skin of Enzo’s wrist. Watched him depart for just a moment, more fussing with drinks.
It was so very much like him, an echo of decades past. Though new glasses were slightly more dangerous. Tiberius took the flute of champagne, lips twitching into a smile at the question. He clinked his glass against Enzo’s and took a sip.
“Oh, there’s been fewer than you’d think. I’m not sure they know what to do with me anymore.” A chance encounter with the Archon or the Black Divine might fix that, setting the tone for House Umbra to be in or out of favor. Lacking that, time would do the trick eventually. For now, he needed to get his sea legs back, so to speak. Gather information as quickly as he could while ruffling few feathers.
“I invited myself over to the Tilani heir’s manor to congratulate her lovely wife. It was … Odd.” He’d left mostly with the impression that he’d been repeatedly lied to over some very fine tea, which was not terribly strange on its own. But the way Novella had chosen to defy his assumptions confused him, asking more questions than she had answered.
What to ask in return, here and now? He did not think the fall of House Pavus would be welcome conversation, though the thought of it did bring certain things to mind.
“Apparently Grandfather’s dead. We’re not ready to tell anyone, so do keep it quiet.”
Enzo nodded as he sipped, his eyes once again wandering over the theater. He hardly understood what passed for reasoning among the Houses these days himself. They'd been so quick to cast Pavus down, yet had no plan to truly rid themselves of so called traitors. They... no. Enzo stopped himself, with some effort. Wallowing would do him no good right now. Not with Tiberius finally returned to him. A friend. A true friend. He couldn't let his ire with the other Houses ruin this.
"Did you now?" Enzo turned slightly in his seat at the mention of the Tilanis. His cousin had grown close with them. Pavus and Tilani stood head and shoulders above the rest there for a brief time. They confused their peers with their calls for reform. But as quick as they rose, they collapsed. "Odd is a good word." In all truth, there had not been much communication at all between Pavus and Tilani since Dorian's disgrace. At least, not so far as he knew. It was entirely possible his father had reached out and kept it from him. But Enzo doubted it. Hadrian couldn't distance himself faster from Dorian's reforms once he'd seized control. Not that it had helped any.
It took a moment for his own musings to fade and for Tiberius' next words to sink in. This left him mouth slightly agape and brown furrowed, drawing in a breath. "Ti... I'm..." Enzo set his glass down on a small table beside him and looked his friend in the eyes. He was... what? Sorry? Lukios was many things, but a warm, caring man he was not. Enzo knew how much Tiberius had worked to live up to his grandfather's expectations. Whatever he was feeling now, it was nothing so simple as grief.
The lights of the theater were suddenly extinguished. Leaving his words unfinished, Enzo's hand sought the other's in the dark, squeezed gently, then retreated. Whatever agenda Enzo was meant to pursue -in his role as informant or even in restoring the honor of his House- this knowledge would play no part in it.
As the opening overture wound down to a quieter section, he leaned over. "May I say, it is an honor to host you tonight, Magister." he said, smiling.
“It’s complex. He was horrid, of course. Guilty of filicide and much more.” Lukios had spilled a lot of blood to extend his own life – and blood magic loved a resonant sacrifice, one that mattered. He was glad that Enzo didn’t quite manage to offer an apology for the old man’s loss.
And yet.
Tiberius hadn’t seen his own father since he was sixteen years old, shipped off with every other magic-gifted brat in his year. When he’d returned from his service, Grandfather had filled the role of parent and mentor, teaching magic and politics both. He’d respected him as much as he hated him. That all without even contemplating the last six years.
Ordered away. Engaged to one woman and now another, her sister. Living in deepest despair for an interminable stretch of awful, gray days. Believing he’d never be home again — never touch this hand again. His fingers twitched but he let Enzo withdraw, a trifle numb. All of it seemed so useless now.
At least his mother and his seneschal were happy. And Lyric would be safer here than with her parents.
“Oh, fuck honor. Come over to the house sometime. I’ve got the old man’s journals.” Enzo had always had a good head for ciphers. “He was up to something -- I want to know what.” Forbidden magic, no doubt. Tiberius wouldn’t risk showing that kind of thing to anyone else.
