December 31, 1893 - Sugarplum New Years Eve Gala, London (an hour before midnight)

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?

New Years Eve, eighteen-ninety-two. Basil couldn’t believe another year had come and gone already. It felt as if only yesterday he’d stood in the Prewett’s Gala hall drinking himself silly and now, today, he stood - mostly sober - in another ridiculously themed ballroom but this time surrounded by family and friends he… wasn’t desperate to get away from. So much had transpired this year to make it so: Poppy and Tillie’s debuts, Anthony’s return from France, Atticus’ engagement… There were so many events that had just culminated in the majority of his close ones being here this evening, and as Basil looked from Lucy to Anthony chuckling at something she said, he couldn’t help but smile.

There was one face he didn’t see however, one that was as much responsible for his delight this evening as the rest. Basil checked his pocket watch briefly. He still had time for one more drink before he was due to meet Gus for their own little midnight celebration. (His stomach fluttered at the thought.) Accepting a drink of some kind as he excused himself to go in search, Basil looked about for Ms. Victoire Malfoy. She, too, was an excellent example of what all could change in a single year. Thinking back to it, Basil could cringe at how critical he’d been of the lovely lady. What an ass he’d made of himself, really. To think he’d been trying to escape her company when now, he wouldn’t trade her for the world. She was his respite at events such as these, the security blanket he let himself indulge in so long as he did not hinder her chances at making a match. She was... his friend. (The thought was warming, in the best of ways.)

Spotting the lady at last in a secluded side room, a library no less, Basil let out a sigh of relief. He didn't know what she was doing back here all alone but, with a glance over his shoulder, he joined her by a large mahogany desk. He couldn’t help but notice she looked utterly radiant this evening. “Ms. Victoire,” the brunette greeted, coming up behind her with a friendly brush of his shoulder against hers. “How are you this evening? Not battling drinks from rude gentlemen this year, are you?” He teased, gently. Though somewhat abashed at his behavior last year, the brunette wasn’t one to hold out for a joke. They both knew things had progressed since then, even if he’d never formally apologized. “You look marvelous.”

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne—

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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The following 2 users Like Basil Foxwood's post:2 users Like Basil Foxwood's post
   Daffodil Grimstone, Gus Lissington

Between Christmas, her own family event a couple of nights ago and now the Sugarplum Gala, Torie was tired. This little run of social gatherings was almost as exhausting as the season. It wasn't so bad however, every minute she could sneak in Anthony's company was well worth it. Plus she was able to see Poppy and Basil often, which kept her spirits up. Their annual winter ball had gone well enough, it was a nice little reprieve to have the warmed garden to enjoy even in the dead of winter, but tonight was something else entirely.

Tonight she had donned yet another new dress, gold and draped to perfection. Torie had pulled out her favorite amethyst jewelry, the deep purple of the stone hanging delicately at her ears and neck and she toyed with the necklace every now and then as she kept an eye on the crowd for her favorite people. She was however, looking forward to taking a break from the social scene for a few days after this. Perhaps now that things seemed to be in motion, she could persuade Anthony to call on her and get her out of the house when it became a little too dull, but she was looking forward to a respite.

After a few dances, Torie took her leave from the floor with a glass of champagne. She drifted from the main ballroom toward the library for a moment to catch her breath. Honestly perusing the book selection, she nearly started when Basil came up beside her, but managed to cover it up. "I have not had to fight for a single drink this year," She chuckled. "Almost disappointing." Their meeting last year had started out strained, but Torie had been able to win him over in the long run and now she couldn't imagine life without him as a friend. "Thank you, I'm glad the exhaustion does not show." She passed him a look as she nudged him in return.

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Red again! June 1894

Basil grinned as Ms. Victoire nudged him in return with her light quip. He loved how uncomplicated a parry could be with her; she was quite easily becoming one of his few best friends and he would be forever grateful for it. “Not at all,” the brunette replied gallantly. “You are the pinnacle of perfect, as always.” He smiled then, raising his glass in a small, teasing toast. It was said with all the honesty and truth he dared however. Ms. Victoire was a marvelous woman. If only there were more like her, perhaps he’d have been inclined to marry before— Basil blushed at the turn of thought his mind had taken and decided to bury his nose in his drink to sweep it aside. (A mistake that would shatter lives.)

For a moment, all was calm. The drink went down with a slightly unusual sensation, something that smelled far too pleasant considering what he’d expected from a measly glass of…whatever this was. (Gin, perhaps?) Basil took a moment to revel in it before he looked up and settled his gaze once more upon Ms. Victoire Malfoy. By George, she did look lovely tonight didn’t she? Basil wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed before how… how splendidly perfect the petite woman was. Her dress acutely accented the color of her brilliant, mind-bogglingly gorgeous red hair, and her jewelry seemed to hang as if droplets of water upon a marble statue the Greeks carved themselves. She was… in a word: breathtaking.

Feeling a stupid, languishing smile stretch across his face, Basil made no movement to step away from the lady as he might have on any other occasion. He liked being quite close to her, something he’d never realized before. She was so delicate, so pretty up close. “Might I be so forward this evening as to say you are always a marvel, Victoire,” Basil heard himself say. Somehow, the mix of some slight inebriation with this last drink had made him brazen. He lifted a hand gently to her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheek ever so fleetingly. “I’m ashamed to realize I’ve never admitted it before,” he whispered.

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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Torie merely harumphed quietly in response to his initial compliment. Basil was too kind not to mention it. She hadn't been feeling particularly social as of late, unless it was with specific people whom she had a hard time catching this evening!

Not watching Basil particularly carefully, she sipped idly at her champagne, still casually looking at the books on the shelves. When she turned to face him again, she was met with an uncharacteristically intimate gesture on his part, and she flushed in response, a chuckle that bordered on a nervous laugh following. "You don't need to lay it on that thick," she rolled her eyes at him, wondering just how much he'd had to drink this evening.

Their little public charade was to fall by the wayside so Anthony could make a more public move, that much had been agreed upon, but this was certainly not how to accomplish that. "Your flattery gets you no brownie points." Torie teased as she moved to feign perusing the books once more.

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Red again! June 1894

The warm flush that stretched across her pale cheeks twisted something in Basil’s gut the professor could only classify as satisfactory. He liked being the reason the lady flushed, and it was yet another realization he hadn’t ever fallen into step with. Odd, seeing as how they’d spent so much time together this year. Her little quip about flattery and ‘laying it on thick’ only made him chuckle again, even as she pulled away and pretended to be interested in the books around them.

“I’m serious,” Basil pressed gently. He stepped up behind her again, itching to touch but knowing better than to dare too much. Instead, the brunette reached for a book just in front of her face and slid it carefully from the shelf so as to position himself before her. “Don’t you believe me?” He whispered earnestly. “I might pretend to be made of stone, but I forswear that somewhere in here - behind all the chaos and confusion - I do actually have a heart.” The sentiment was not convincing anyone, Basil himself least of all. He still felt a pinch at the thought of everything that had transpired recently as he stood here, now, face to face with what was the only woman in the world he could ever imagine marrying! Perhaps all the rest had just been a passing fancy. This, here, was what he’d always aspired to. Mama would be so pleased he’d finally realized as much.

Setting the book and his drink on the desk behind them with a thump, Basil turned to Ms. Victoire with an imploring look. “Torie what if… what if we’re making a mistake by not seeing where this, us, could go? We get along so well, and you really are the only woman in the world I can—” He paused and sucked in a breath. Taking the lady’s free hand in both of his own, Basil pressed it to his chest. “Can we just entertain the thought for one minute, just to see where it might lead, if anywhere? I should hate to let you go so easily when… when I’ve never admitted to you how I really feel.”

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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Torie was listening as Basil went on... and on. Sure she may have once fancied what a life with Basil would be like, but that had shot out the window (for good reason!); and then so had any chance she'd had with Atticus; and now she could finally, finally see something lasting and true with Anthony, Basil was coming out with all of this? No, he must have had far too much to drink. He was just teasing her.

"Just how drunk are you darling?" She chuckled, but it still had a bit of a nervous lilt to it. She knew he had a heart, he had confessed to having feelings for someone else to her! What had happened to that?

As he caught her hand in both of his, she started, staring at him with furrowed brows and concern. "I think we should find you something without alcohol in it, maybe a snack." Anything to tone this down. This certainly wouldn't help their plan to gracefully back out of anything public they had started! Gently she squeezed his hand and made to retract hers, but found his grip to be quite tight. "Don't be silly, Basil, come let's get you some lemonade." Or some water, anything.

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Red again! June 1894

Basil was impervious to the flickering emotions of anxiety that seemed to overtake the lady’s pretty visage even as he spoke. He didn’t want to upset her, obviously, but he was starting to think she really wasn’t taking him seriously at all! The quip about being drunk furrowed his brow entirely, but Basil rather liked the sound of ‘darling.’ It was an endearment they’d passed between them so many times before, merely as friends, but… well… he could imagine himself being her darling if she just paused a moment to listen to what he was actually saying!

Talk of snacks and lemonade fell on deaf ears as Basil realized the lady was trying to pull back. “Victoire please,” he insisted. “It’s not easy for me to be so forthcoming. Just… listen a moment.” Here he released her hand and made to lace his fingers behind his back to keep from being forceful. If she wasn’t going to hear him, there certainly wasn’t anything Basil could do but keep imploring. He’d get down on one knee and beg her to marry him if he had to, but somehow he imagined that might not be so convincing either.

Taking a step closer so that they were only a mouse length apart now, he kept his hands trained behind his back. “I am not drunk,” he whispered. “I only ask that you give me one chance, please, and if you really tell me you don’t feel it too then… I will step aside willingly and die a broken-hearted bachelor.” He let a soft laugh bubble up, twisted with anguish as it was. Cold fingers came up to ghost just by her cheek again, touching only lightly, and brushing a ginger curl that had come loose.

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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Clearly confused, Torie stood still, shocked into being unable to move while he rambled on. He was volleying between calling her "Torie" and "Victoire" which in and of itself was weird. He had never called her anything other than "Miss Victoire" or "Miss Malfoy" even when it was just the two of them. Clearly something was off, he was being so very dramatic, and his vehement protests of not being drunk left her with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Perhaps she should persuade him to find Atticus. Mr. Foxwood would know what to do.

Smiling softly, nervously, she tried not to flinch at the feeling of his hand near her cheek. There was an air of unpredictability here that told her not to push him too much; she didn't like. Never had she ever felt uneasy in his presence and she wanted out. Gently, she rested her free hand on his arm. "I believe you," A little while lie. None of it made any sense, but she had no idea what to do here, she needed help and for that to happen she had to persuade him to follow her back to the party. Baby steps though.

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Red again! June 1894

Basil held his breath as the endlessly perfect woman before him searched his face for something he couldn’t imagine. What was it that she could possibly want from him? There wasn’t anything in this moment he wouldn’t give her… was that not clear? He loved her, a realization that rocked the Ravenclaw to his bones and settled uncomfortably in his stomach. (Was this, really, what love felt like? Was this desperation to hold her, see her smile, make her happy and never let go… really it?) Somehow, Basil couldn’t be absolutely sure.

A small hand came up to settle on his arm and with it brought a surge of hope he hadn’t realized he needed to keep breathing. She believed him! Did that mean she felt it too? Was this his chance?! Basil felt a warmth touch his cheeks and he smiled softly, almost shy. There were so many things he wanted, needed, to clarify but— he let his hand rest this time on the lady’s cheek properly. It was still a featherlight touch, his fingers cold against her warm, smooth skin.

Can I kiss you? lingered on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to, so badly, but an overwhelming sense of guilt at the thought of his cousin made Basil hesitate. He couldn’t be concerned with what a single other person in the whole world felt about this moment, about his wanting Victoire all to himself, except… Anthony. But his cousin was charming! Successful. An eligible bachelor anyone would be happy to entertain. It didn’t have to be the one person in all of Britain that Basil himself could see a life with, right? It would all work out. They’d both see, in time. Victoire was not cruel enough to put him off without at the very least letting him make his case and Anthony… well. He’d survive.

“If I didn’t think it would terrify you, I’d get down on one knee right here and ask you to marry me,” Basil said in one last attempt to convey his earnestness to the pretty redhead. “I want to, Victoire. You’re the only woman that makes sense. The only woman I can and will ever love.” He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek and lowered his voice to a whisper. “So, slap me if you like, but at least let me prove to you what we could be, if you let us.” And with that, Basil tipped forward and kissed her.

It was a strange feeling at first, one that set his mind reeling. Despite grey eyes flickering closed and his free hand pressing against the bindings of books behind Victoire, it felt off balance. Basil had never… actually kissed a woman before. She was soft, and warm, and so fragile around the edges he was almost worried about hurting her. There was none of the same drive that pulled him forward when he’d kissed Lissington, or even Macnair once upon a time but— there was still that twisting in his gut. A feeling that was familiar as it warmed him from the core.

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song
10/10 confirmed demisexual! (Ty Torie <3)

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The following 1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post
   Victoire Malfoy

Torie didn't quite like the look in his eye as he continued on. The rambling was also unlike Basil, he was normally very careful about what he said and how he said it. This was all very overwhelming and confusing and she was extremely uncomfortable. Her pulse was racing, adrenaline rushing through her veins. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, she was approaching fight or flight. Not that she thought Basil would hurt her, but there was just enough of a feeling that he wasn't himself that made her question his impulse control.

Which was apparently zero, as he leaned in to kiss her.

Shocked, Torie stood very still, leaned back ever so slightly, retracting her hand. Nothing about this felt right. Definitely not like when she kissed Anthony. That was comforting and exciting all at once, and it made her feel like she was floating; this scared her a little bit.

Gently as she could, not too quickly, she stepped back and extricated herself from his grasp. "Basil, I would like to go," she requested, voice small, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she couldn't be here anymore. The situation had changed so rapidly, she couldn't fathom how she had gotten here, but she couldn't process while still in his company.

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Red again! June 1894

Anthony was on pins and needles this evening. Ever since Christmas Eve, there had been a tumult of anxiety twisting itself over and over in his belly. He was excited, eager, and hopeful for the potential of a courtship with a lady that frankly… was unlike any other he’d come across in his journeys. Victoire Malfoy was a veritable ray of sunshine and even just the thought of her made a lovesick expression flitter across his face. But on the other hand, he hated to be at odds with his cousin(s?) over the matter. Atticus had been very clear in his request to leave Ms. Torie alone for Basil’s sake. Family always came first after all, and Anthony was the least likely person to put his own needs before the well-being of those he cared about. But… this was different. He’d never felt like this before, not in all his time hunting for a wife season after season. Ms. Torie captured his attention in a way nobody had yet managed; to set that aside in favor of someone else winning her over, even if that someone was Basil, just seemed… ridiculous.

So, after much thought and discussion with Lucy and angst on his part, Anthony had come to a decision. He would confront the pretty Ms. Malfoy again, on New Years Eve, and ask her to court officially. If she parried or put him off in any way, then perhaps there was some merit behind Atticus’ assumptions at which stage Anthony knew he would be forced to bow out. He would not get in his cousin’s way if there was even the remotest chance Ms. Torie might return any sentiments Basil couldn’t yet dare to articulate. But… on the chance she really wasn’t interested in playing silly games, then he would take a leap of faith. (He himself was only interested in pursuit of ladies who were ready for marriage, and she was yet so young.)

The evening had so far passed impossibly slowly. Perhaps it was because he was waiting for just before midnight to make his declaration that Anthony watched the hour hands on the sugarcane clock tick past with all the anguish and desperation of a dying man. This theme was one he actually enjoyed, having rather a sweet tooth himself, but there was no benefit to be had of it with his mind as occupied as it was now. Finally, finally, the time seemed to creep around. At fifteen or so minutes before midnight, Anthony set off in search of the object of his infatuation.

He’d spotted Ms. Torie a few times this evening; first she’d been enraptured in conversation with a friend or family member, then she’d been sweeping elegantly across the dance floor in the arms of an unknown gentleman. Both times Anthony had forced himself to keep a distance, knowing full well he had his machinations to sort out, but it hadn’t been easy. It was like all he wanted to do these days was waste time, languishing in her presence. Now, as the gentleman straightened his waistcoat self consciously and swept through the room looking for her, he was unable to set aside the creeping suspicion that all was not as it should be.

When he finally found her it was by the sound of a sweet voice. Anthony couldn’t make out quite what it was saying, but he knew it instantly to be Ms. Torie. The answering voice he too recognized, this time Basil’s, and before he could think to hesitate from intruding on their conversation, (because frankly he didn’t want to), Anthony rounded the corner of a small library. The sight that greeted him was utterly world shattering.

There, pressed against the bookshelves exactly as Anthony always imagined in his worst nightmares, was Basil Foxwood kissing Ms. Torie.

Game, set, match.

Flabbergasted and utterly wrecked by the notion that he could have been so wrong, so selfish, Anthony didn’t notice the small stool behind him. He tripped over the artifact, taking down a vase of flowers with him, and landed with a crash on his rump and a wounded, embarrassed look on his face.

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Victoire Malfoy & Basil Foxwood
anthonys muse song for this

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Basil felt like he was floating, untethered. He was full of hot air and soaring somewhere high above the rest of reality but… by force, almost. Not of his own genuine accord. He tried to focus on the feel of his love’s lips against his own but for whatever bloody reason Lissington’s face floated across his mind’s eye. That was terribly unfair to Victoire, especially when she was the one here before him, the one he was determined to prove himself to. To marry! The moment was only a few seconds long, but it felt like an eternity in which his desires waged war on his mind. His body was reacting to Ms. Victoire, physically, but his heart and his brain were adrift.

The lady pulled away then, removing herself entirely from his person with a twisted look of discomfort on her face. Basil could see instantly that he’d not been successful in charming her. He wondered if a second kiss would be more convincing for both of them, since he knew this was what he wanted, but he didn’t have a chance to try and tell her as much. A sudden clatter of something breaking caught his attention and the brunette turned to look.

There on the ground, dripping wet and with a shattered vase in his lap, was Anthony Alderton. Instantly Basil’s face contorted with displeasure, a frown pinching his brows. “Anthony,” he greeted icily. “What impeccable timing you have.”

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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Hot tears had sprung to her eyes in earnest now, the overwhelming feeling of dread filling her stomach as she fought for some semblance of control of the situation.

And then it all really went to hell. She was far too wrapped up in trying to figure a way out of this for her to notice they weren't alone until Anthony had stumbled and knocked over the furniture. Torie wanted to make sure he was alright, but she was frozen in shock still.

"Anthony," She managed, aghast and suddenly quite terrified. How much had he seen? What did he think was going on? Had he heard her unease, her discomfort, or had he just seen her and Basil in a compromising position? The very same position Atticus had found her in with him a mere week ago. "This is not what it looks like." Well it was, Basil had kissed her, but she had not wanted, nor encouraged it. Her desire to flee had started several moments ago, to find help, to seek solace elsewhere, but she hadn't been able to make a graceful exit. Now she knew she should have just left without remorse, because she was certainly going to regret that.

She finally managed to move further away from Basil, back around the desk, away from both of them, tears evident in her eyes as she looked between the two men uncertainly. "Are you alright?" She took a hesitant step toward Anthony, but didn't know where to go from there.

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Red again! June 1894

Atticus, for what it was worth, was having a decent evening. Basil hadn’t put up too much of a fight when it came to attending the ball and Anthony… well, he hadn’t spoken to his cousin since Christmas but that seemed like a problem for the upcoming year. They had a lot to discuss, most of which had to do with Miss Victorie, although it had dawned on him that he hadn’t even considered what the young lady would like. Or whom, rather. If either of them. Atticus hoped for Basil only because this appeared to be his only chance to marry someone he tolerated, and who tolerated him. Anthony would have others, and Atticus wouldn’t be surprised to find if he came home from France one day with a fiancé on his arm.

Having had his fill of dancing for the moment with his own fiancé, she and Atticus parted ways with him moving to find his cousin. They should speak at some point, even if it was just to say a curt hello and be on their merry way. He hadn’t seen him with Miss Victorie all evening and he appreciated giving Basil at least a chance to confess whatever feelings were brewing in his mind, although come to think of it, he hadn’t even seen him in a while. He was probably hiding somewhere. Frowning at the thought, Atticus glanced around the ball just to realize he didn’t see Anthony either, although he did hear the crashing of something behind him caused him to crease his eyebrows together.

Atticus had a sinking feeling whatever was happening there had to do with his family.

So, he straightened his own waistcoat and moved toward the library with smooth footsteps, his own eyebrow arching at the scene: Basil with a look of adoration on his face and Anthony with a broken lamp in his lap. Miss Victoire looked horrified. Atticus moved to offer his cousin a hand while keeping an eye on his brother. “Why is it always you two?” He almost growled, but instead he pursed his lips together, waiting for an explanation. He shifted closer to his brother.

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Anthony was surprised by the frosty tone his cousin weathered, though in retrospect he ought to have expected it. He’d quite literally just interrupted the single most intimate moment any relationship might have and for what? To confess his own adoration for the blonde in his cousin’s arms? Shame, guilt and embarrassment colored the brunette’s face as he looked away pointedly. He’d deserved this. He ought to have seen it coming.

This is not what it looks like, the lady said. Anthony couldn’t bear to look up at her even as he heard shifting and an inquiry as to his well-being. Then what, darling, could it possibly be? he ached to ask. He didn’t. Instead, Anthony pushed the broken vase off himself and flinched as yet a fourth voice joined the exchange. Oh hell, there was no way this moment could get bloody worse.

Atticus Foxwood, for all his self-righteousness, had been right. And now he was here to bare witness to Anthony’s utter humiliation. An irritating flash of stubbornness streaked through the curly-haired brunette’s spine and he ignored his cousin’s hand for favor of standing on his own. He didn’t need to show any more weakness than this moment was already exposing. Damp, cold, and miserable, he finally looked back up at all of them. “I’m quite alright,” he responded at last, decorum forcing Anthony not to ignore the lady altogether. Still, he brushed her concern off with a shrug. “Apologies for having interrupted, it was not my intention to intrude.” Far from it in fact. He’d had so many ill conceived misconceptions. With a pained look he turned away from the lot. “Please, excuse me,” he muttered as he strode back out the way he’d come.

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Basil wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling as Ms. Victoire skittered away from him. He could sense some sort of anguish in her voice, her expression twisted and unusually unhappy. He must not be making himself clear enough! Surely she was just misunderstanding all of this…

His cousin’s appearance helped matters little and Basil’s frown only deepened when his brother decided to join them as well. Could nobody leave them in peace?! He had important matters to settle, preferably without an audience! Still, he’d come too far to back down now even if his family decided to intrude.

Anthony responded with apologies and made to depart. Good riddance. Ignoring Atticus then, hoping he too would take a hint, Basil followed Ms. Victoire around the desk. He reached for the lady’s hand gently, determined to stop her if she decided to take off behind Anthony. “Please,” he muttered. “Ms. Malfoy, I beg you to hear me clearly.“ A brilliant blush began to descend on Basil’s pale features at the thought of confessing himself - again - in front of Atticus, but he didn’t have too much of a choice. His moment was slipping away. “I love you, Victoire. Don’t walk away from this.” Don’t walk away from me…

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Victoire Malfoy & muse song (one year foxfoy anniversary!)

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