Lucian walked through Hogwart's with a sly, dark grin on his face. Cocky as he was, he couldn't help but take in the flattering stares of all the young little witch's as they past. Some rather shyly, would walking by and blush before scurrying off, others - like the current little number guiding him to the Infirmary - had tempted to talk to him, flirt a little and walk away smiling with an enamored glaze in their eyes. It was really quite quaint, being fanned upon by the lot of them but it had earnestly only actually proven to be a reminder as to why Lucian had no desire to marry a girl of any age younger than twenty. They were fickle...and let's be blunt, kind of annoying with their love struck sighing.
So it was that Lucian himself was rather grateful to finally arrive at the Infirmatory, even more so to politely thank and dismiss his 'tour guide' for the escort before heading deeper into the room. It was relatively quiet at the current moment and though Lucian could see one other nurse tending a child, he could not immediately see Francesca. It proved a little disappointing at first but once Lucian really started thinking about it he decided to have a little fun. Approaching the other nurse, Lucian laid a little charm on and convinced the woman to fetch 'Nurse Beechworth' along the lines of having a sick patient to tend to. Lucian of course saw himself to one of the infirmary beds and drew the privacy curtain around it to hide his immediate presence.
Eying the rather pint sized bed, Lucian halfway glanced down the length of his body and whimsically raised an eyebrow. Seeing as he wouldn't quite fit on the bed, Lucian instead walked to the wall the bed's headboard was pressed up against and leaned upon it instead. At least this way it assured that his shadow would not be seen, giving away his height and therefore giving away the reality he was not in any manner a sick student. Folding his arms over his chest casually, Lucian leaned his head back against the wall, crossed his legs at his ankles and waited. The nurse had said Mrs.Beechwood was expected back shortly so when the sounds of approaching shoes grew louder and the other nurse's voice instructing Francesca to aid the 'student' behind the curtain - Lucian just let a wolfish grin spread along his lips, waiting for her initial reaction.
The morning in the infirmary had taken on a dull luster, as not many had need for it that morning. Chess had taken her lunch early, seeking out Violet's company in the course of the morning, where the assistant nurse took over for the time being. Chess enjoyed her moments of solitude away from the infirmary sometimes, as much as she loved nursing. She loved tending to the children as well, but at times, she grew depressed over it.
On the rare occasion that Chess slipped into that familiar depression, she found herself contemplating why thing had happened how they had. She was destined to be a spinster forever, without children and without husband until the end of her days. And no matter how she tried, the children of Hogwarts would never fill that role for her permenantly.
Chess had finally tried to shed her depressed mood as she strode back into the infirmary, the assistant nurse coming to her. "You have a patient in bed four, Miss Beechworth," the older woman stated with her sad eyes. "I'll be taking my leave now for Hogsmeade. Thank you again for covering for me." Chess nodded with a soft smile and reattached her apron as she pondered the older woman.
Nurse Tetley had always been kind to Chess, regardless of the awkward situation of Chess technically being over her in her occupation. Nurse Tetley was a kind older woman though, with her own small family. She was widowed, and had been strung out ragged caring for her two Hogwarts age children alone. Chess was willing to do anything she could for the older woman.
Regardless of the situation, Chess had not expected to find Mr. Alliard behind that curtain when she ripped it open. "So what is the matter with--" Chess began, and then stopped abruptly. She couldn't help the sharp raise of her brow and the hand that immediately propped onto her hip, her gaze narrowing heavily. "What on earth are you doing here?"
In truth, Chess had not thought much on Lucian Alliard since he had bowled over her on High Street. He was an attractive, upper class man of importance, charm, and good looks. Chess saw no reason to further her thoughts on the man. It wasn't practical or pragmatic in any way, and that was that. In truth, she expected to never hear or see of him again. However, there he was, perched on a cot in the infirmary, looking just as gloriously carefree as he had when she'd met him.
Her expression was still hard with surprise and even a sliver of irritation, or one might assume it was as much. To be honest, it was only apprehension in Chess's gaze. What on earth did he even want?
The reception he received was as to be expected, immediate surprise followed by irritation and her taking up the stance of a woman on the defensive. It was interesting really, how easily defensive she became and he was curious to discover whether it was just him personally or all men in general. For all he knew, maybe it was just people on a whole. She did seem the incredibly introverted type unless she was angry. "...Why, I came to see the nurse of course. Why else does one come to the infirmary?" Lucian's wolfish grin instantly charmed it's way onto his handsome features as he pushed forward to stand in front of her and bowed politely with a deviant gleam caught in his eyes.
"...I'll even let you take my temperature if it means you might forget to hate me for a moment." He teased as he slowly sauntered closer towards her in proximity, not so timid about closing in the space between them - though he didn't quite invade her personal space either. Glancing her down in her work uniform, Lucian couldn't stop himself from smiling. "...You know, if I was a boy at Hogwart's I'd think I'd feign sick near everyday if I had your talented hands mending what ails me. I'm surprised this infirmary isn't packed with young wizards all insisting to see you."
Studying her expression rather openly, Lucian didn't hide the intrigue in his eyes as he met her charismatic gaze head on and somehow felt a little inebriated by them. Like a finely age wine, ripened to perfection and - if he might say so himself - also rather fragrant with an alluring perfume, a familiar scent that he couldn't quite put his finger on to name. Glancing past her shoulder for a brief second, he couldn't help but notice two girls - one of which had previously been his 'guide' to the infirmary earlier on - scurry past glancing at him with their nurse and went giggling by, likely using the infirmary as a short cut to somewhere else. "I have something for you, nothing grand just a little trinket that I got my hands on last night from a friend that I thought you'd appreciate more than I."
"I have my fair share of little hormonal admirers," Chess mused softly, raising a brow and her gaze as he stepped closer. "That is until I threaten them with gurdyroot tonic. Then they just magically heal themselves right back up." Chess gave a healthy roll of the eyes. "They're just little boys. What can you expect?" not much, that was for certain. And Lucian seemed to still be a little boy himself. Chess gave him a smirky, teasing look before turning towards her work station.
She had been busy pounding herbs before he had interrupted with his need for a cure, or rather his arrival for said cure, and Chess didn't intend to be derailed by him any time soon. She knew she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't that attractive. She didn't have traditionally soft features, nor did she have the vivid blues eyes of an English rose. Though his eyes on her made her heart skip a beat, however involuntary it was.
Chess began grinding down leaves into a paste in a mortar and pestle, musing over her shoulder at the man who insisted on her attention.
"A present?" she spoke with a raised brow, intrigued. "Sir, you've caught my curiosity. I truly wonder what coudl possibly tempt thoughts of me, a witch you barely know. You're sure of yourself, Mr. Alliard." It was a statement, not a question, as only a cocky wizard would buy a trinket for a woman met only once. Chess wasn't even pondering the social connotations of a gift presented to her by him at this point. She was just deathly curious.
Naturally, Lucian raised a single eyebrow as he studied Mrs.Beechworth with growing amusement. She certainly was the presumptions little thing wasn't she? "...and you dear lady, are full of assumptions." Lucian grinned and turned on his heel to follow a few short steps behind her. Finding it impossibly difficult not to trace his gaze briefly up her ankles to her calves - he did so love a woman's calves - and onward over the arched flanks of her rear. Naturally, he did this with a casual observation, not so obvious as some other less talented, uncouth men might have done and swiftly enough that by the time she was looking back at him his eyes were firmly elevated back to a 'proper' height.
"...I never said I bought you a present, Mrs.Beechworth...I said I attained something I thought you'd appreciate more than I." Walking up behind her and just a touch more to one side over the other, Lucian peered down over her shoulder and analyzed what she was doing. Surprised that she seemed to have such soft hands despite the necessary physical work she likely did on a regular basis - such as grinding herbs with a mortar and pestal - the Wizard took another inching step forward and slightly more off to her side as his hands lifted and slowly slid the black, silk scarf from around his neck into his hands.
"However, I do actually have something for you but I'm curious to see just how good you are at your job." Smirking like a young boy who had discovered the best kept secret of the world, Lucian turned his body about so he was leaned back on the edge of her work station and faced into her sweet lipped features instead of her back. "How much more can I prove to tempt you, enough that you'd be up for a quick challenge and the tiniest wager?"
Chess was taken aback by the familiarity that Lucian took with her. She narrowed her eyes and shot him a look, her hands tightening on the tools, the stone tols that could become weapons if necessary, until they turned white.
"You are too close sir, and too familiar with a woman of inferior birth that you have only just met," Chess countered with a coldness and defensiveness in her voice that she'd acquired after long years of practice.
Chess shoved herself away from her table, taking in the sight of a small little first year girl, in tears and being escorted by a prefect. Chess took the distraction with a muttered 'excuse me' to Lucian, sweeping off to tend to the girl. She took her time, though the little girl had only banged herself up on one of the moving staircases, something that Chess was not all accustomed too in the first years. They were naturally clumsy and unfamiliar to Hogwarts' finicky ways.
"There there, sweetheart," Chess soothed gently, finishing the bandage for the bloody knee and then producing a sucker from the pocket of her apron. She handed off the sucker with a smile and a wink for the girl, her womanly and innate motherly instincts taking over. Instincts that Lucian would never incite from her. Oh, it made her mad just thinking of him. She'd purposefully not sent a look in his direction, if he still chose to be there. Damn the familiar man. And damn his slight attractiveness. Chess was not a fool, and she was not easy. She hated men and their flirtations, to the very root of her core. A hate disguising her fears.
Chess finally kissed the girl on her forehead and sent her on her way before washing her hands and taking to her herbs again, gritting her teeth. If he was still there, then what did that even mean? The mortar and pestle fit firmly into her hands again and she called out to the room. "You see, I'm not always so shrewlike." It was a musing, a passing one, one that she almost hoped he wouldn't be there to answer to.
She chided him like he suspected she did the young boys currently occupying the school but it did little in the way of deterring Lucian from leaving her company. It took a lot more than a sharp lashing tongue and a witch with an attitude to get him to turn away from his intended course so instead Lucian simply just stood there, eyebrow raised as he ran the pad of his thumb over the fabric of the silk scarf caught between the side of his pointer finger and thumb. Studying it quietly, Lucian took the moment where she went to offer her help to a young witch to consider the anomaly that Francesca Beechworth seemed to be.
Turning his chin toward his shoulder, the handsome wizard glanced back to the nurse and child and felt a strange pull to the scene overall. Not that he was a man who openly adored children but there was something quite endearing about the way she was able to soothe and handle the young one. "So it seems." Lucian murmured when she returned and remarked about her shrewlike status. The husky rumble of his voice taking on a slightly different tone than normal. The playful chipper zeal slightly faded as he continued to study the silk scarf and did not look up to the lady. "...apparently it's just me you choose to become shrewlike around."
Letting the briefest smile twitch onto his feature, Lucian's shoulders straightened as he took in a deep, silent breath and approached Francesca once again. This time, he purposely remained more than an arms length away and flipped the length of his scarf back around his neck before digging his hand into his inner coat pocket. "...I'd only wanted to test your senses and see if you were wise enough in your trade to name this;" Lucian explained, his closed hand holding out the small glass jar of a specimen plant.
The Mimbulus mimbletonia was a very rare, very potent plant amongst the wizarding society mainly used as an old folk remedy for shyness, anxiety, and forgetfulness but was also vastly used amongst medical wizards as sedatives, pain killers and - most recently had begun to be used as an immunity booster to help ward away fevers, flu's and common illnesses. It was also potent enough that only small were needed to be used to get the full affects of - so the amount he was offering her was likely to last her the rest of the school year and into the next.
It also had an incredible foul smell until it was mortared down to paste - which is why he'd been certain she would have been able to successfully identify it with the blindfold - his scarf - he had intended to use. "...I meant no offense, just a bit of fun....though, I must confess I'm a little thrown by your constant need to remind me of your social status...do you call yourself inferior because you feel inferior Francesca? Or do you really believe me to be that much of an ass that I'd actually care about what status an intellectual beauty like yourself holds?"
"Hardly Mr. Alliard. You are not so special. In fact, most I come into contact with remark on my caustic behavior. It bothers me none. The only exemptions are the truly innocent of heart. Children. Some female companions I've met. But they are very very few. You, sir, are one of many." It was important that he didn't feel special. Chess didn't do special treatment anymore, not for anyone undeserving of it. And Lucian was a male, and therefore undeserving.
But those thoughts died away with the revealing of Lucian's gift, and she looked at him curiously, her eyes widening. "Now where on earth did you acquire that?" she countered with a truly surprised tone to her voice. Mimbleus Mimbletonia was incredibly hard to come by. It was difficult to grow and difficult to keep, and the stench made it unbearable for greenhouses. Its combative properties made it dangerous as well, to other plants and even people. Chess remembered once of hearing of a nurse who had been experimenting with it falling asleep in her worktable and being strangled to death by the growing vines.
Chess took it immediately and her typical maternal instincts kicked in and she glared up at him, sweeping the snatched plant into an isolated glass cabinet where it would still get sunlight.
"You are quite lucky you decided to give it to me, Mr. Alliard," she scolded. "Mimbleus mimbletonia is a highly dangerous herb, even to those that know how to handle it. Revolutionary, but dangerous. We would have been shy one more arrogant male in the world if you were not too careful." Chess smirked at that, and then cocked her hip defiantly at his own statements about her class and birth.
"No one can make me feel inferior unless I deem it so, Mr. Alliard. And socially, I am inferior. Intellectually, perhaps not. Oh, but society cares not for intellectuality in a woman. And my looks are quite inferior to the normal statutes of a 'handsome woman'. I am inferior in my own ways, as are we all. But I am superior in my own ways. Take healing for example. Or intellectual conversation. Or knowledge of plants and herbs and their uses." Chess smirked at that. "There are very few women who can boast such knowledge about that. In which case, I feel quite superior. It's all about perspective and circumstance Mr. Alliard. Nothing more."
And with that, Chess leaned onto the counter slightly, gazing up at him with hard, mossy eyes. She was stunned over the gift, and thankful for it. She might even have enough to experiment with, which was what she aspired to do. To be a spearheading healer. To lead the way to new cures. But that was inconsequential. What did he want in return?
"One alway wonders," she mused, on a tangent of her own in her head. "What sort of forum would make someone like you inferior? Perhaps dancing? No. You look too lithe for that. Maybe flirtations? No. You're a charming one. Or perhaps even your job? Hardly. You look efficient. Of course, all of these are assumptions, but I'm fairly good at judgement calls." Chess measured him with a soft, know-it-all grin. "Emotions though. And love. I would wager that you are quite inferior in that." She wasn't sure what made her say it, but he was the typical golden boy. Typical. Nothing more and nothing less. And with that she turned to strut away towards her office. Perhaps he'd leave her be now.
Raising an eyebrow curiously as a more than slightly amuse smile spread across his lips, Lucian studied the woman as she went on and on and on about this and that. Prattling away like a fine feather cock in all her arrogant glory. It was slightly entertaining that she chastised the rich and well off for the very same sins she herself inhabited - then again, they weren't nearly the sins that Lucian actually desired to provoke her to commit but that was neither here nor there, matter of fact it was in his bed.
"...now if I told you that what fun would I be?" Lucian replied on a playfully chiding tone. As if he thought she should have known better than to ask at all. As if a gentlemen just went about offering up his resources. Besides. If he told her the truth it was likely they would both find that little jar hadn't entirely found it's way into Hogsmeade legally - despite the fact his acquaintance that he acquired it from worked for the Ministry itself - and well, so did Lucian!
"And what a sad world that would be, shy and bereft of little old me." He mused on a humming, almost sing song tone that presented itself in a low rumble. Pushing forward as she began to ramble and Lucian already was predicting her 'great escape' from his company, Lucian started to walk before she'd even taken a step and so as she strolled - he was naturally striding at his leisure next to her, his long legs hardly having to make any great effort to actually keep up.
"There are very few women that would boast at all, Mrs.Beechworth." Lucian slyly corrected, reminding her of societies beliefs that it was far from practised ettiquette to allow a young woman to brag about her achievements. Nope, they were to be sweet, succulent, demure little things that all left the boasting and bragging up to men like Lucian - or at least men that tried to be like Lucian. "...You however prove to be a rare bird on that front and many others I'm finding."
Letting her reach her office, Lucian actually let the room's door close shut halfway before he jutted his food out between the door itself and the frame, keeping a space there between them before toeing the door lightly and causing it to swing back in - quite readily open and welcoming. "....It's so polite of you to invite me in to your office for a chat, Mrs.Beechworth." Lucian smirked but remained lingering in the doorway. Leaning one broad shoulder into the frame as he crossed the pillar strong lengths of his forearms across his chest and tilted his head studiously as he observed her.
"Emotions and love." He repeated on a considerably thoughtful tone as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling and pondered her 'accusation' of a sort. "They are rather difficult forums to become wholly superior to, aren't they?" The wizard grinned, turning the fact around on her as if to say he thought she had actually meant she thought herself superior to love and emotions - consider she had deemed herself important enough to name him 'inferior'.
"...but you'd be wrong, Mrs.Beechworth. I'm a man of great emotions and many loves in fact...my love for fine muggle cigar's is unbreakable, my love for a detailed piece of art is commendable but I don't believe you were talking about materialistic love now were you Mrs.Beechworth?" Lucian asked but didn't honestly expect an answer. "...Soulful love, heartfelt, deep, passionate love, Mrs Beechworth?" The Wizard said sounding as if he was going to explain and then paused - never once budging an inch from his standing position inside of her doorframe - the dark broody glaze of his eyes breaking through to beneath that savory surface to something a spec deeper, to something a spec more earnest then his normal sultry gaze before he blinked and vanquished it away. "...I had loved the very weapons which me wound."
A sad world it would be alright. Then Chess might have a moment's peace again. The irritating upper class socialite male tended to meddle in her affairs for far too long. She heard his strides as he followed her, incensing her now. Who did he think he was anyhow? Stupid, pigheaded, arrogant old man.
"Love?" Chess called out, her eyes narrowing into slits as she did not take her seat in her office, but came up toe to toe with him. Or close. She set her hands on the dip of her costume on her waist, and she looked up at him with sweet irritation. The confrontation made her cheek flush with exertion and her hair had already loosened from its pins in a becoming way, her natural waves of soft curl curling about her face delightfully. However, Chess had never been a vain woamn and had always been told she was not pretty. And so nothing about her vital look did anything for her confidence.
"I would wager that deep, abiding love of the pure of heart is something you neither possess nor dream of. You are a man, Mr. Alliard. And therefore you have little to offer in the way of love. Women are open-hearted creatures and give and give until our hearts are taken up, consumed by love. It is a happy feeling for us, one we all crave. Until a silly, stupid man like you rips it all away. Breaks us down. Tears us from our highest calling. To love and to cherish others." Chess's tirade startled even herself and her chest was heaving with impassioned breath as she finished. She sank into a step backward as he spoke again, something dark and mysterious in hi eyes.
It was a long moment before Chess felt calm enough to feel as though she wouldn't incriminate herself, she looked off. "I wouldn't know how to sympathize. I have known nothing of love." Which was untrue. She loved her family, and they betrayed her. But deep, abiding, passionate unplatonic love, she had never experienced. She had been ripped apart by the only people she had ever truly trusted and cared deeply for, and as a result, she was quite unworthy of love herself.
Chess stepped back towards her desk, turned away from Lucian now. She didn't like him. In fact she hated him. She didn't like how he made her introspective about her past either. She hated that. O all things, Chess expected she at least be allowed to forget.
"Leave. Now," she commanded quietly in a strangled voice. God. She couldn't cry. Not now.
Her rant and close proximity had done little in the ways of insulting or intimidating Lucian. He wasn't a man that budged easy, his mother use to insist that it was more likely to move a mountain than change Lucian Allaird's mind and to a point it was true. Though as he stood there, starring at her as she finally moved away and turned her back to him, Lucian felt something tug harshly inside of his chest. Dark, brooding eyes coasting across the back of Francesca's shoulders as he came to realize it was actually genuine concern he was feeling. Uncertain of why or how far deep it ran, Lucian stood a moment a little surprised at himself and frowned deeply when she told him to leave.
The hoarse, strangled sound in her tone was vastly displeasing considering how lovely she sounded when she laughed and some odd, foreign part of him wanted to safe guard her from all things that would wound her so incredibly. Of course, he hadn't an idea what he'd said to have her react so explosively but somehow he didn't quite believe it was all him and not something more buried deep inside those sharp, narrow eyes of hers. Of course, he'd never know if she kept him at arms length all the time.
Clearing his throat, Lucian let out a low, almost silent breath and reached into his inner coat pocket. Pulling out the simple, black and gold handkerchief he generally always carried on him, the wizard inched forward slowly unfolding it in his hand as his eyes trailed cautiously up the profile vision of Francesca's hips, waste and the length of her arm. Not stepping to close, Lucian moved in beside her - a foot from where she was standing herself - and stared idly down at the desk as he slid the handkerchief across it's surface with a gentle push of his fingers in beneath her palm and immediately pulled his presence away.
"...As you wish, Mrs.Beechworth." Was all he could summon right in that moment, no sharp witty come back or sharp tongue remark to shove in her face despite everything she'd just said to him. Any other man would have stood there and scolded her, yelled at her and told her how unruly, how undesirable and how unbecoming her behavior was but For the life of him all Lucian could think was that it was extraordinarily odd that he wanted to comfort her - in a fashion that was not inductive to sex. Leaving his handkerchief there, half tucked under the palm of her hand on the table, Lucian turned and left without another word - unless she stopped him of course.
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