April 6th, 1893 — A staid society Dinner

Merida adjusted the intricate lace collar of her elegant debutante gown, dreading the hours laid out before her. She was only really here because Murdock had been invited and as his invite had been 'Mister Greyback and Guest' she had been dragged along so as to not ruin the numbers. Ever the dutiful sister she had accompanied her elder brother but she had complained about it in the carriage here. The whole affair was suffocatingly proper and lacked much of the imagination or flair of most society dinners, where the hostesses went to some effort to ensure that 'something' set their event apart.

As she stepped into the opulent dining room, she couldn't help but scan the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of familiar faces that might provide some solace amidst the sea of unfamiliar guests. But her heart skipped a beat and her stomach sank as her eyes landed on the one person she least expected to see—Endymion. The last time they had crossed paths...well. It had left her both intrigued and mortified.

With a forced a polite placid smile on her lips, Merida tried to push aside her embarrassment and gracefully made her way towards the assigned seating. To her dismay, she discovered that her seat was right next to Endymion. It was as if fate were playing a cruel joke on her, subjecting her to this uncomfortable proximity. She could feel her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected situation. She knew she would encounter him when the season began, and she had imagined how it would be, and she had no doubt it would be as Romantic as their previous encounters.

"Good evening, Mr. Dempsey," she greeted him with a polite nod. "It seems fate has a curious way of bringing us together again." The words hung in the air, heavy with both self conscious embarrassment.


the dress

  

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He had endless patience for most things – particularly society, for if he wanted to marry one day he was obligated to be part of it – but upon arriving at this dinner party Endymion had realised his mistake. This was one of those invitations it would have been better to feign an excuse for: something noble or diligent or interesting, like a curse he was busy breaking or some other thrilling-but-inescapable-venture.

Instead, he had scarcely seen a friend here, and Endymion was resigned to an uneventful night. It was perhaps because he cared so little, or because it was so airless and dull in here, that he had had to loosen his collar already, unbutton a top button and tousle his hair. And then, as he went to take his seat, at his side was –

“Oh,” he breathed, wrongfooted by the redhead’s appearance. Not too taken aback to forget to pull out her chair for her, appropriately, but surprised enough for his brow to furrow. “Indeed,” he agreed, because there was plenty he had imagined getting to say to her when next they met, and precisely nothing he was prepared to bring up here; in fact, all that was on his lips was her name – Merida – which he could hardly say in company either. “Miss...” (His memory was failing him; he had worked out who she was in society once before, but her surname had suddenly flown right out of his head.) “Though I am pleased to see you again, Miss...” Nope. He didn’t know it, and glanced at her helplessly as he took his own seat beside her.

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Merida's heart skipped a beat as she observed Mr. Endymion's disheveled appearance. His loosened collar, unbuttoned top button, and tousled hair gave him an alluring charm that was difficult to resist. It was as if he had stepped out of one of her daydreams, causing a playful smile to grace her lips, he looked like he ought to be emerging from the mist on a heath, not gracing a staid dining room for a drab dinner. She accepted his offered seat with a graceful nod, her eyes never leaving his face, trying to read his expression.

She sensed his momentary struggle with her surname, a playful glimmer in her eyes as she played along. "Thank you, Mr. Dempsey," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of mischief and an air of formality. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Miss Merida Greyback," she stated, her gaze locking with his, as a smile threatened the corners of her mouth. While their previous encounters held moments of intimacy, they were now compelled to adhere to the societal conventions that dictated their interaction.

Merida couldn't help but steal a glance at his tousled hair and the open button that revealed the captivating bob of his Adam's apple as he spoke. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, her heart fluttering and she was forced to look away, suddenly engrossed in her fan to avoid her face being the open book she feared it was. She discreetly lowered her gaze, a soft blush gracing her cheeks. How could she fake an entire evening of propriety with him, when they hadn't managed a single proper interaction to date.

"It is truly a delight to encounter you once again, Mr. Dempsey," she expressed, managing to meet his gaze, albeit as she felt herself flush. "This gathering may be on the sedate side, but I'm delighted to have such interesting dinner company. Have you been hunting much since the Blackwoods party?" Merida asked, careful to keep her tone neutral, even as amusement tinged it's edges and she thanked the gods for serendipity and the confluence of fate.

  

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“Miss Greyback,” he echoed, mostly in relief – although there was something less sublime in knowing she was a Miss Greyback than a mystical water or forest spirit. Miss Greyback did not have quite the same poetic ring as Undine.

But at least they shared a secret or two, so her presence was not so stifling as everyone around the table. The smile she was resisting was like a breath of fresh air. (Or maybe that was just the faint breeze from her fan.) She had mentioned the hunt, and his face coloured ever so slightly at that. “Ah, I haven’t,” he said easily, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from offering her a rueful smile no one else would understand – but there was a conspiratorial glimmer in his eye. “I’ve since decided hunting is not for me. I tried to fell a deer last time, you see, but it turned out to be a little more than I’d bargained for.”

He shot her a brief look along the table, and dropped his gaze again until he’d come up with a suitable innocuous question, something that would not raise eyebrows of any eavesdroppers. “Are you very fond of the outdoors?”

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As Mr. Dempsey echoed her surname, Merida couldn't help but notice a flicker of something in his eyes, she wanted to probe him further. Instead, she maintained her composed demeanor, her smile held back like a coiled spring.

His response to her mention of the hunt caused the corner of her mouth to quirk at the double speak. His confiding glimmer sparked a delightful flutter in her stomach. 'I'm sure there is even more than meets the eyes.' she added quietly, her eyes demurely on her plate, playing the part for the hawkish society eyes around the table.

His question -was either terribly or perfectly timed. As she reached for a spoonful of soup, she accidentally choked on the laughter that bubbled up, bringing her gloved hand to her lips to stifle the sound converting it to a cough. Her cheeks flushed with a faint pink hue, and she gave him an apologetic smile full of teasing admonishment, before regaining her composure, dabbing her napkin to her mouth to hide her blush and her perhaps foolish smile.

"I suppose you could say I do," she smiled to him, "there is little as restoring as early morning walks, I find myself irresistibly drawn to it some would say." she said with a hint of flirtation, her eyes locking with his for a brief moment. "Some of my experiences in the woods have been unique and captivating"

  

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She had drawn a few eyes towards them, with that little mishap, and Endymion had to channel all his concentration into looking appropriately concerned, and not simply laughing at her cough.

Whether her early morning walks were more on two legs or four, no one else would think to ask – but he fancied he knew the answer. “Oh, unique,” Endymion echoed innocently, as if to say oh, you don’t get shot at every day then?, as if he couldn’t possibly imagine anything unusual about taking walks in the woods. “Have you been in the habit of – um, walking, for long?” He fumbled his way through the question, moreso wondering how long she had been an Animagus.

(And indeed, whether she was registered with the Ministry – presumably she was — or if even the fact of it was better unsaid. He didn’t want to put his foot in it right at the table, but the pull of curiosity was there.)

“And do you... always venture out in the same company?” He added, by which he meant – alone.

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Merida's gaze lingered on Mr. Dempsey as he managed to mask his amusement.

"Indeed, Mr. Dempsey," she replied, her voice sincere for those nosy ears listening, "I do enjoy my walks" Her lips curled into a knowing smile. She glanced up at him through her lashes, and she was sure everyone could hear her heart hammering. She wondered if he was keenly aware, as some gents were, of the effect they had on ladies. He didn't seem to but perhaps that was willfully ignored on her part. She was, as she had been from their first meeting, captivated by his dashing demeanor, the dark hair and eyes that flashed when he spoke, even without his highwayman costume, he played the dashing rogue well.

"The woods are... special to me," she admitted with a demure tilt of her head, her eyes never leaving his face. "They are quiet, they are a haven. As you might know, my family is rather... large, and our home, well, it's a bit boisterous," she said with a light, fond laugh, aware that it was a touch of understatement with respect to the Greybacks. 'I love it, and them - but it makes me appreciate the quiet all the more'

Her gaze softened as she continued, her voice a gentle, this part for his ears alone "Walking alone in the woods has always been my escape. It's where I find moments to gather my thoughts and simply be." she brushed a strand of her red hair out of her face, self-consciously behind her ear. Her maid had gone to pains to tame it but it never lasted long 'You must forgive my indulgent romanticism. I must sound very foolish' she chuckled, fidgeting with her wine glass.

Merida couldn't help but steal another glance at Mr. Dempsey, her heart quickening at the sight of his handsome features even in this so typical a scene - used as she had been to seeing him in encounters both sublime and ridiculous. Her admiration for him deepened alongside that dimple she had noticed in his right cheek.

'I presume that was not your usual early morning hunt?' she asked a small smile, not really assuming that shooting transformed debutantes was part of the Dempsey usual morning routine - and if he was he certainly wouldn't tell the sister of the man in charge of law enforcement. She had partially turned in her seat, to face him, and she could see Murdock giving her a look over his shoulder from the other end of the table near the hostess.

  

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He would confess it if needed, but he was more interested in her than in the dinner: he scarcely noticed what he was eating as they spoke.

“I don’t know much about your family, I’m afraid,” Endymion said, perhaps half because he had spent so many years out of the country, and half because the Greybacks were not one of society’s usual hosts. And, for all they had met before, he and Miss Greyback had not really yet indulged in... any standard conversation. “But I have six siblings, so I can understand the allure of getting away.” Of getting away from them all.

He shook his head vehemently when she got sheepish, and looked at her more earnestly. “You don’t sound foolish at all to me.” She was still rather a romantic picture, even here, in so stifling a setting, confined to her place at the table. (He knew it was foolish, but he almost wanted to picture her as the doe in the forest first and foremost, as if she had been transformed – cursed – from her natural state to this and not the other way around.)

He had given a light laugh and shook his head at her last question, but couldn’t help but follow the direction of her gaze over his other shoulder slightly, seeing a redheaded gentleman at the end of the table he could only imagine was her relative. He tensed slightly in his shoulders, feeling watched though he couldn’t think that he had been doing anything wrong. “No, I’m not much of a hunter,” Endymion answered, gently clearing his throat. “I would be perfectly happy just to wander, myself.” Appreciate nature for nature’s sake without trying to leave his mark on anything.

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Merida had to force herself to look away from him, to turn her face to her meal and towards the table, to drag her eyes from the highwayman. To not grab his hand and drag him into the gardens, out into the night, to a setting that somehow suited his curls and dark eyes than this stuffy dining room, complete with elderly wizengemot widowed on his other side.

Merida shot Murdock a look of her own, she could only assume that he found her coughing to be drawing too much attention, or was she that obvious in her interest in Mister Dempsey. She didn't think she had been, but she gave him a look to shut him up. She was sure she would hear more of this later, but she was glad that the hostess seemed intent on remedying Murdocks unmarried state with a spinster sister or other, and he was forced to turn his polite attention to her.

'We don't host much' she admitted, and to those in certain circles Murdock ranked as 'important' for his work at the ministry, she didn't really want to introduce him the banalities of her life, her brother was there, the Greybacks had a public presence, if he wanted to know who she was it wouldn't take a lot of effort, but she didn't want that especially. She wanted him to stay the Highway Man, just those dark and handsome eyes, behind his mask, her eyes strayed to the corner of his mouth where she had pressed the kiss when she had stolen his hat.

'I wouldn't deride your hunting skills Mister Dempsey' she teased, trying to keep her tone casual, but her eyes never left his 'You rather hit the mark last time' she took a sip from her wine, glancing over her glass at him.

  

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He didn’t know if it was the intensity of her gaze or something in her last sentence – you rather hit the mark last time – but Endymion blushed in spite of himself. His cheeks felt warm, and so did something in his chest; his mouth opened slightly, but without meaning to, she had swept his words away.

He glanced briefly sidelong, a little guiltily, down at her hip, where he’d accidentally shot her. He remembered holding his hand to her, to steady her, and wondered just how much longer they would have to sit here, longing for the course to end; he wondered if he, they, might find some reason to excuse themselves. Of course he couldn’t come up with anything remotely appropriate: so gave the window a brief wistful look and shifted slightly in his seat.

They didn’t host much, the Greybacks, she had said; Endymion, trying to find the threads of their conversation, returned, only half-teasing: “Then I suppose if I ever hope to see you again I’ll have to search the forests. Or perhaps you might try wandering in Ireland sometime.”

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As the dessert plates replaced the remnants of the main course, Merida felt a rush of gratitude for the temporary reprieve from the stifling formalities of the dinner. She had been utterly captivated by Mr. Dempsey, but she wanted more than the polite exchanges they were obliged to maintain, it was suffocating after the freedom of their previous interactions.

His blush had not gone unnoticed, and it sent a delightful shiver through her, igniting the ember that had been burning since their unexpected encounter at this staid event. She couldn't help but wish to reach out, to touch his hand even if only in enthusiasm. Her gaze, locked onto his, and what she thought might be longing that matched her own.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her dessert plate, some jelly confection that she hated and pushed around her plate idly, so as to not give offense, but her eyes never left his face. "If fate allows," she said with gentle mystery. She had never been to Ireland, never had occasion to venture but she wondered now if she might orchestrate it somehow via Murdock. I suppose I've never had a reason to visit before now' she sipped a little of the dessert wine instead, all too aware that it wouldn't be long before the ladies were shooed from the room to leave the men to their business, after which Murdock would no doubt whisk them home.

  

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Endymion could sense the married matron waiting for his attention on his other side – he could sense the expectation emanating from her, that he might sweep in and join the conversation going on over dessert at their end of the table – but that would mean turning away from Miss Greyback, and he simply hadn’t the heart.

But time was slipping from them, whether he liked it or not, and the best she could give him was binding herself to fate. Well, that would have to be enough to pin his hopes upon. Endymion gave a gentle sigh – but he was an optimist to the end, and he was sure fate would work with him in this. “Well, I hope that you might find a reason one day,” he said, and gave her another soft smile as the spell of stillness broke, chairs scraping and the party beginning to disperse from the dining room.

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