Adieu
Dillon Connery sits at the end of a table in one of Avalon's Conference Rooms, alone, pouring over documents and a few textbooks. His netbook is open to one side of him, but it is his iPhone on the other side of him that quietly plays a soft piano medley. It's a quiet piece, meant to soothe. And though a pen is busy making notes across paper, and he looks fairly absorbed in whatever it is he's doing, he left the door open for a reason. He is willing to see anyone who needs a word, and he is listening for any possible disruption in the Elysium beyond.
The Lordess had been walking into the halls of Elysia from the stairs and frequently, she took the long way to her office. Her heels gently clicking on the surface of the floor as she walked. Perhaps it was her own little patrol of the Avalon Underground, but one never knew who could be lurking. Tonight, it was not just some lurker in the conference room, it was an astute Deputy. Since the evening was peaceful she decided to speak to him, and reveal something to a trusted friend of hers.
Wrapping gently on the door behind, she knew she probably had not startled him. After all, she sensed his beast as she came upon it in the hallway and no doubt Dillon sensed hers. That, or her heels may have alerted him as well.
Normally, the sound of heels might only draw a polite glance and wave as the person passed the doorway. Daniella is around a lot, and doesn't emit a Beast. An unfamiliar Beast would have drawn Dillon's attention in a way that any peacekeeper begins assessing a threat. But the familiar sensation of Ariana causes Dillon to stop writing, and look up to the doorway with a relaxed smile. By the time her knuckles touch the door, he's holding his pen by the tips in both hands. Elbows resting on the table, it is at the perfect height to form a little pen-mustache on the Gangrel's face.
"Good evening, Seneschal Donovan," he greets through a smile and a tone reserved for friends. "I hope you're just coming to visit rather than alerting me to some matter of security."
His joking way of saying that he's glad to see her.
Ariana gave Dillon a soft smile, amused by the pen-stache. She fully entered the conference room and shut the door behind her. "Not this evening, fortunately Deputy Connery. It would appear that all is well for the moment." Other than Conner abruptly leaving, which he undoubtedly witnessed. Nodding to the reports on the desk she added. "Unless there are things saying otherwise?"
Gently her hand gestured to a chair near Dillon. "May I sit?"
Dillon isn't even thinking of Conner's sudden departure. For the moment, shock, along with the need to keeps things moving, has required him to set the matter aside in his mind. So he simply answers, "Things are well enough, for tonight," and stands as Ariana enters the room.
"Please, do sit and join me." Dillon pulls the seat Ariana gestured to away from the table. "I always enjoy your company."
Once she is seated, the Gangrel deputy reclaims his. He doesn't pick up the pen again, and since the music is quiet enough not to be distracting, one hand simply rests within the miniature field of papers, and the other drapes loosely from his forearm across his knee. "We rarely get to see each other outside of Elysium, it seems... how have you been?"
"That is always encouraging to hear." Ariana smiled to Dillon as she took a seat and crossed her legs to the side.
"Thank you." With a grateful nod to the Gangrel Priscus. "And yes does seem as if our nights have kept us very busy." There was a gentle apologetic expression as she nodded in agreement.
There was a moment where she only looked upon Dillon, the shape of his face. The way he sat in the chair, the way his broad shoulders looked and his posture. It was a flicker of a moment that was committed to her memory before she began. "I did want to find you to relay some news to you." Pausing a moment before she continued. "I will be leaving the Domain in a few days time." The Lordess stopped and looked at him, letting it seep in first.
It is a punch in the gut. But Dillon doesn't forfeit his own dignity or respect for Ariana by asking her to repeat herself, or stammering out a helpless question of what or why. There is a silent moment, while he thinks. He watches her watch him, and after a moment, says quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."
Hazel eyes look away and down.
"Has something happened?" he asks the papers in front of him. In the fashion of a gentleman, he continues with complete sincerity. "I understand if it is none of my business, but I wondered if there is anything I might do to help."
Shaking her head and waving her hand, assuring Dillon it was okay to ask. He was, after all, a close friend. "I understand that it comes as a slight surprise, Dillon." Ariana said, knowing that using his name that it came with a degree of trust they shared.
"Sadly, something has happened. A close friend, and my former editor in New York has fallen quite ill. I am unsure how much time he has left." The Lordess spoke with a measure of profound caring as she mentioned Louis. "He has requested that I return to New York. I am to train in his position and eventually take it on from his recommendation."
"I assure you that I do not owe Louis this. However, it is all I can do for the years he provided his assistance and advice to me." Her cobalt eyes looked to Dillon with a hope that he would understand. Louis may not have been her sire, but as a trusted mentor and friend, surely the Gangrel would understand.
As Ariana begins speaking, Dillon's eyes move back up to hers. He nods in time with her description of the situation, and offers her a smile of encouragement. It is a weak one. Obviously saddened. But his approval for her reasoning is genuine.
He has been a vampire for nearly fifteen decades. A century and a half. Leaving several esteemed positions in one Domain just to return favor and aid to a mortal should probably sound preposterous to him. But if anything, it makes him admire her even more.
"That is a very kind, and generous thing for you to do. Even if it is an obvious step up for your career among the kine." There is a moment of pause where he isn't really sure of what to say. He is certain there are a hundred thousand or so things he wants to express to her, but none of them are forming completely in his mind. "I would send along my highest recommendation with you, but if I recall, you probably have many more Kindred connections in New York than I do."
"Well, there are probably not many more years left for me to have such an opportunity before I need to retire." Ariana winked to Dillon. It was honest though, not many years before people began questioning why she remained so young looking. Despite the advancement in anti-aging materials, some things could not always bee explained.
"I thank you for that. I do have a few connections remaining in New York." Although the Lordess wondered if there may not be more than she realized now that her tyrannical Sire had been gone. Her grandsire would be one of them, should she be able to track him down. "The Domain of New York is also rich in the First Estate. I think it will be something I will be able to ease into." The copper haired Ventrue grinned whimsically, with the knowledge that Dillon knew how much the covenant meant to her.
Seizing an upbeat topic, which Dillon can't yet think of in terms of one final happy memory before they move on, Dillon raises a finger. "Don't overlook the value in ghouling a good makeup artist, now. They can make you look older just as easily as they can make you look younger. You could try that for so long, before jumping back into the public eye looking young again, pretending to be your own daughter."
There is a pause, while Dillon's expression goes innocently contemplative. His eyebrow raises. "Despite the obvious problem of sunlight and their profession, I often wondered if Martin and Charlie Sheen weren't simply one Kindred. Until I saw them both together, of course.
"Jury's still out on Donald and Kiefer Sutherland. I don't believe anything I see on television, anymore."
Ariana laughed as Dillon mentioned the make up artist. "Now that is a brilliant idea. There are plenty of them in New York as well. Their talents on the stage of Broadway are far more natural than those of Hollywood." One thing she would certainly miss is the Gangrel's never ending ability to make wonderful jokes.
Raising her own finger back to Dillon she shook her head. "There is always that of the Familiar Stranger. It would be quite possible to pull a double off. However, there is always the issue of the television and how we look there." The Lordess winked.
"True, true," Dillon nods animatedly. "Both good points. To counter the latter, all I can offer is that somewhere there may be a Dragon who has finally conquered the Lost Visage. I wouldn't be surprised at all." He shrugs a bit, before continuing. "But yes, do give my regards to Broadway." Badum bum.
Thinking about such things, Dillon can't help but feel that: while cursed to hide from the light of the Daystar as they are, how infinitely worse it would be if they were instead cursed to stay indoors at night.
After a moment of quiet, when Dillon's voice does come, it is relatively faint. "It's not going to be the same around here, without you."
Though his eyes strayed again while he said the words, they come back to Ariana again. He offers her a wry smile of reassurance, however, that they will figure out a way to carry on.
Ariana looked enlightened to his note about a Dragon. "Oh is that so? I presume that is quite an achievement." The Lordess did not know the ins and outs of the Ordo. However, she did know that Dillon spoke to a particular one time and time again. Smiling when he mentioned Broadway, she added. "I certainly will do that."
The copper haired Ventrue was aware that the Gangrel's generally deep voice became hushed and she leaned toward him and looked at him. His eyes had moved away and she tried to capture them with hers. "You have much to keep you busy." A soft smile as she tried to be encouraging. "It will not be long that your occupied evenings will keep your thoughts focused." Like many others who had come and gone, she did wonder how long it would take. She still remembered and missed Lance time and time again.
"Well, I'd have to see it to believe it, but I suppose it's not so far out of the realm of possibility to accomplish with some permanence what we normally can only do with great focus and concentration." Dillon is no more an expert on the Ordo Dracul than he is on any of the other Covenants outside the Lancea Sanctum, but he has been around long enough to learn much. As well as to hear fantastic, but convincing claims. Not to mention the the things he'd witness that sometimes left him baffled.
About how occupied his evenings are and will become, Dillon can only pause and think. It is easy for Ariana's eyes to lock with his, but then it always was. What, in any other circumstance, between almost any other two Kindred, might be considered a bold dare or threat from a Lord to another, Dillon knows is more. The trust he places in his friend is apparent, and he tries to find the comfort in her words that he knows she is trying to impart.
"I don't know," he begins, in the same quiet tone. "Sometimes I fear that these busy evenings have consumed time I could have spent in a way that didn't leave me regretting. Now, I wish you and I could have..." he smiles during a pause, offering the best example that comes to mind. "...went to more concerts, or something. I made a classic Kindred mistake of assuming we had all the time in our Requiems before us, here in Sacramento."
"Seeing is believing sounds like a concept not beholden upon a Sanctified." Ariana raised her brow in jocular manner. "However, I do think it is certainly possible." After all, she did convince a very stubborn Savage that he was not entirely at fault for ashing someone. Anything was possible.
For just a moment Ariana wondered if there was something more Dillon was going to say other than concerts. Since it may be a long time or never again, she decided to ask instead of wonder. With a searching gentle movement of her head toward the Gangrel, her cobalt eyes widened slightly. "Wish that you and I could have, what?" She paused raising a curious brow and in a whisper asked. "the or.... something part..." The Lordess reflexively pursed her lips a second while a memory surfaced.
Dillon mirrors Ariana's eyebrow raise perfectly. "Just because the Sanctified promote faith, does not mean it is blind faith. That is the realm of wishful fools." He adds a wink in reassurance that he knows she was only being playful, and that he is in no way rebuking her. Though hopefully, he is giving her something interesting to think on later.
At her further questioning, he can only grin for a second. "More like 'or anything'. Had I known our close-distance friendship would only live for a brief year and some months, I think I could have set aside more time to get to know you better. At least spend more of it with you." Dillon can't help but shake his head a little. "I find such great comfort in your intelligence, calmness, and maturity. I know Kindred three times your age who still act like fumbling neonates. And many of those are my cousins."
Lips twist in frustration at Dillon's self. "Why didn't we attend more functions, take more joyrides, or spend more nights under the stars together? Were we truly so busy?"
Ariana smiled in understanding of their quips about faith. By no means would she ever disparage his religious or covenant choices. But she could not help but wonder what a wonderful Invictus he would have made.
The answer to her question perhaps she expected another answer. "I am flattered you think this of me. I too relished in your Southern charm." With a smirk on her lips, she leaned to the Gangrel Priscus, much closer than before. "My cousins as well." She winked. Still, she listened to Dillon convey what was missed at least in Sacramento. "All you had to do was ask. I put my trust in you long ago." Still, Ariana was leaned toward him as she sat adjacent to Dillon. Cobalt blue eyes looked to him, in both a serious expression and something buried deeper. "I would have never said no to you." Whether or not she meant something more than friendly excursions hung in the air.
"I know," Dillon says quietly. He can't bring himself to elaborate or extrapolate on the implications left swirling around and through their conversation.
The rest of her words, he can pass with response in the form of an uncharacteristically shy smile to her praise, a deviously understanding grin regarding immature Ancillae, and a solemn nod to the matter of trust. But he is getting to the point where he doesn't trust the words that might come out of his mouth.
Fearing that the silence will mean a premature end, he pipes up. "Wait, hang on.
"May I set up an e-mail account for us to correspond on? Like my Sire, Mentor, and I do." Well, used to do. "That is: we share one account and save messages to each other in the drafts. Nothing gets sent through the internet, and we don't record any Masquerade-sensitive information... but it can be a consistent way to at least keep in touch."
Ariana recalled in various conversations before how his covenant was important to him. There were perhaps many reasons he responded the way he did. But for now, that was neither here nor there. Still, she remembered all the innuendos while he instructed her by the river one evening. Although she did wonder if it were his prior encounters with other Lords that never let him act on his wishes, or something more.
The Lordess nodded to the idea as she replied. "I think that would be an excellent idea. Although, even though they are not passed through the internet, they still are saved somewhere." She winked gently. "I do, however, do not foresee an exchange of anything that would cause concern or issue." They were both cautious as vampires in their Requiems. There was a curiosity in what he would write and she would not pass on an opportunity as such.
"Oh yeah," Dillon nods, already setting up an account with the little netbook off to his side. "I'm not putting anything on Google's servers that will risk security or the Traditions, but avoiding the Web's various filters is just another way to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible."
Tearing a slip from a notebook nearby, Dillon scribbles out the account name and password before passing it along to Ariana. "Besides, you've always been so good at talking around the Masquerade." His grin is one full of a sudden wave of nostalgia.
The little paper clearly reads: dont.stop.believing@gmail.com - pAws4eFFect
Nodding to Dillon's reason in this exchange, she smiled. "Of course. It is a rather clever way to avoid certain types of surveillance." There was perhaps a tiny glimmer of admiration for the Gangrel thinking of such a way besides simply texting or a phone call. "However, I am sure there will be nothing to worry about." The Ventrue winked as he mentioned her veiled way of speaking. "Well, we have to be with all the technology around. We can never be too careful."
She took up the slip of paper and read the address and password. Memories surfaced from the night they went to the Journey concert and he had a few pieces of jewelry and looked very much like an avid fan. "I remember that evening." The Lordess said softly, and she remembered how quickly things changed after that night. "Many things about that evening." Her cobalt eyes looked to Dillons lips a moment before returning to his hazel eyes. "A few more things that were on a list...and a secret that went unshared." Ariana had still not moved from her close distance from Dillon, letting the memory hang in the air a moment.
Dillon tries to recall the evening with a little more depth. The truth is, in his mind, Ariana and Journey have become fairly synonymous with each other. Every time he thinks of one, he remembers the other. After a year, though, along with everything that happened in the space between, some of the details are a bit fuzzy.
Now, the kiss he remembers very clearly. There was also talk of gyms and Jiu-Jitsu, Age and daring concert patrons... and he recalled making an offer. An offer which he had since backed out of.
The Gangrel's mouth twists to one side, and he hates himself for some of the things he has to say. And fears the regret that will surely follow them. "I'm sorry, Ariana. I know I said that the limits set to our friendship were because of my duties, and the complications that may be caused from the tangle, but that is only part of the truth."
He doesn't back away from her proximity, but he has to look somewhere else. Hazel eyes settle on his knee.
"I wouldn't have been able to bear sharing you with someone else. And Mister Greyson doesn't deserve any attempt I might have contrived with the intent of taking you from him.
"I moved on, because I won't share you, and I can't keep you." Dillon makes a weak gesture suggesting an exasperated shrug, and looks up. His eyes are focused across the room for a moment, gathering strength. Then they shift back to Ariana's with full intensity.
"Call me selfish. Call me stubborn. Hate me if you must. But that is how things turned out. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if things turned out differently, but it's too late for that, now."
Aghast to what Dillon had just told her, Ariana eased back away from Dillon. "How dare you." She said quietly through her teeth looking away from him and any smile or pleasant expression was void from her face. It was blank, in an attempt to conceal what sprung forth from within and the Ventrue blood turning the beast within her veins.
The voice of the Lordess never rose above conversational tone, but if she was ever irritated it was clear in her tone. "I am my own woman. I never belonged to him nor would have you taken me from him either. It is my choice. Upsetting him would be the least of your concerns." She picked up the piece of paper with the email address on it looking at it in debate. "I would also think twice about ever speaking that I would belong to anyone for that matter."
There were several moments of silence before she said her next words. "For someone whom I thought understood me, I never expected to hear that from you." Ariana's cobalt eyes averted back to Dillon's watching his expression from the weight of her words.
Dillon feared just this sort of reaction, but it was impossible to be prepared for it. It stung worse than any slap could have.
He doesn't retreat when Ariana pulls away, but nor does he advance. As her reasoning behind the reaction becomes more clear, however, Dillon sighs wearily. Almost hanging his head. "And I didn't expect to be bogged down by semantics from someone who professes trust in me.
"I'm not talking about owning you, or possessing you, dictating your motivations, or ruling you." The very thought disgusts Dillon, actually. And though he's more that a little bit distraught at being accused of that line of thinking after everything they'd been through, now isn't the time to point fingers. The Gangrel's husky voice remains quiet.
"I'm talking about being the subject of your desire. Your affection. Your attention. Even your love - or whatever approximation of the word that Kindred can experience. I could never have been able to handle the role as an accessory to a relationship, and neither of you deserved the difficulty that may have arisen should you have..." he struggles for a word, and as though giving up, "chosen me, instead.
"If you're going to be angry at me, please try to at least do it for the right reasons. I never tried to manipulate your actions, I simply decided to take my own needs out of the equation. I judged the risk to our friendship too great.
"Perhaps I was wrong, but it is far too late to undo things now."
Gently shaking her had and looking away from his hazel eyes, the Ventrue spoke in a normal tone. “If we spend Requiems lost in what ifs, surly that is not good for what lies within.” Ariana was of course referring to the Beast within their being. Strangely as Dillon spoke she was reminded of someone else. Something she was glad to not be a part of any longer. There were occasions where he did make reference to someone even if he was unaware that he made those comparisons.
It also seemed too little to late. But she was not about to get into a disagreement on time, need or want. The Lordess also wondered if somehow, the Gangrel was making an attempt or giving her good reason to stay. “Perhaps we will never know.”
Sticking the piece of paper into her pocket, Ariana returned her gaze to him. "Angry I am not. But, I came to say goodbye. I would rather not leave on a sour note." There had been nothing more to say on the subject. His part had been said, and she did not want to dwell further into what could have been.
"You didn't sound very satisfied with the more gentle versions of the explanation," Dillon says simply. Every time he got near the subject since setting their limits that night last December, it seemed as though Ariana questioned or probed - in her own way.
"But you're absolutely right." He lays his arm across the edge of table, so that his hand lays palm-up in front of her. A silent invitation for her to take it, however she wants. "Since becoming friends, I've only ever wanted the very best for you. That hasn't changed. Nor will it."
The truth of the matter was that Ariana was not about to go into further detail because of where they were. "Perhaps so, however, this is not the place I would want to have the remainder of the discussion." Her eyes shifted back to the Gangrel, looked around the room and returned to his hazels.
The Lordess watches Dillon as he moves his arm across the table. To her it looks much like a peace offering, so she took it for what it was worth. Slipping her hand over his, she smiles softly and returns to facing the Gangrel once more. "Thank you. I think that is what anyone wants for their friends. I too have enjoyed watching you rise up in the Domain." She paused for a moment, thinking back to the night of Coben. "And looked out for you when I could do so."
Dillon nods in agreement to let the subject be, for now. They have at least come to a bit of an understanding about it all, or perhaps cleared some of the air. After all, it will give them something to discuss within the coming months. And another reason to keep each other updated on their Requiems.
There is almost a sigh of relief as she places her hand in his. Without preamble, he brings it to his lips, pressing them softly against Ariana's knuckles once. Honor forbade him from doing more.
"I appreciate your efforts, my friend. Truly. I could never adequately express just how much that I do."
After a short pause, he adds, "If there is ever anything I can help with, don't hesitate to contact me. I will still keep my eyes and ears open for any news of Ariel. I promise you that."
Watching Dillon kiss her hand, it was strange considering long before. Yet that was neither here nor there now. "It is quite alright Dillon. Your words are enough." Smiling beautifully to the Gangrel. When he mentioned her sister, Ariana nodded. How she longed for her still but maybe someday she would see her again. "Thank you very much. I still hope to see her again, some day..."
Ariana slipped the piece of paper into her purse, and produce something in return. Placing a small box on the table she placed in front of Dillon. "This is for you."
The box was small and black. What was inside, Ariana was slightly unsure that he would like it. It was not expensive, nor flashy but something that was more fitting to Dillon's persona. On a leather cord, attached was a pendant with a spoked wheel which also spun. On the nape of the wishbone that connected it, something very small was inscribed; 'it goes on and on...'
Letting their hands separate to allow Ariana her short trip into her purse, Dillon's eyebrows raise appreciatively as the gift comes out. He flashes her a quick expression of humble delight as he carefully takes the little box and opens it.
It is clear by the grin that follows that what Dillon cares for is not the monetary value of the gift, but the sentiment behind it. And in this item, he finds much of that. He thinks of the importance of having fond memories to look back upon and replay in one's times of woe. Of the Requiem, and the possibilities that exist for the future. Of the specific song they shared, which he had referenced himself, earlier.
"Very clever. I love it." He looks up from the pendant to Ariana's eyes as he slips it out of the box. "Thank you."
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