people want my power
&& they want my station

       

but they couldn't take it

Samantha was able to see a change in the manservant's demeanor the instant the words left her lips. He stood a little straighter and his emotions flickered ever-so-slightly as he left the room. The words were meant for Dorian alone as a testament to their history. It seemed like only yesterday that Samantha had claimed her royal title to him in the park. It had seemed easier, then, to simply lie. After all, it was better to be the ruler of a fictional country than the prostitute that he had so labeled her for her modern clothing. She'd meant to tell him the truth later, but as time had gone on, it had become a joke of sorts for her. She knew that he knew she was nothing more than a normal girl, and she assumed that he knew that she knew that he knew the truth. In time, it had become nothing more than a joke between the two, though Samantha had never claimed anything other than that she was absolutely the sole remaining monarch of Narnia. It was with that in mind that she let the 'title' slip from her lips. An icebreaker, of sorts. Something to ease the tension of the situation.

As soon as she was alone within the room, Samantha fussed with her dress, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles if only to give herself something to do. The dress itself was modest and (she hoped) elegant, and she'd picked it out of her closet specifically for the meeting with Dorian. It was knee length with capped sleeves and had a square neckline that didn't cut too low, and the royal blue color contrasted her red hair well, after all. Dorian's prior pickiness regarding her own dress had made her think carefully for their meeting, and she hoped, if anything, she was dressed properly for meeting the apparent King of Italy. It was becoming increasingly apparent to the Fae girl that she was nervous. And for Dorian, of all people! Dorian had once been the one person that she could talk to about anything. Her best friend. And now... now they felt like strangers. And Samantha was well aware that that was all her own fault.

Truthfully, Samantha wasn't sure what to expect from this reunion. Thus far, Dorian had never seen it fit to hold a grudge against her. In her experiences with the man, he had always been kind and forgiving to her. He had done his best to teach her things and to understand her world. In turn, she'd done the same for him. Or at least, until he'd brought home Sebastian. The memory of their evening with the vampire was a sore spot for Samantha. In time, she'd come to understand more about the first evening she'd spent with the vampire and could hardly fault him for it now. But she'd been rude to Sebastian, and in front of Dorian. And then... shortly after, she'd left town. Now, they were married and Samantha was coming back from her self-imposed exile and it was hard to think of where exactly the pair of fae would stand. Would he be happy to see her? Angry? Or worse, indifferent?

Samantha was spared from exactly too much time to torture herself with this line of thinking by the reappearance of Charles in the doorway. He nodded to her gently, a gesture Samantha returned graciously, before he gestured for her to rise. Before she could react, Dorian appeared in the doorway and instructed Charles that she did not have to rise to great him. Regardless, Samantha found herself on her feet. She remained silent as he entered the room, and for a moment, she felt entirely overdressed. Dorian stood in simply a pair of jeans and a white shirt and looked far more... relaxed in denim than Samantha had remembered him. Despite that, Dorian remained exactly the same as in Samantha's memories of him, save for the air of confidence that seemed to radiate from him. The sight of him alone was enough for a small smile to appear on her features.

It was his emotions that interested her now. Her affinity always reached out so easily to Dorian, and today was no exception. His emotions seemed to flicker around him. Always as bright as they'd always been, but... indecisive. Happy to see her, perhaps? Disappointed? A... no, not angry. Nostalgic? Samantha was still trying to piece the emotions together when he spoke, and her blue gaze lifted to meet his eyes. "That it has," She said gently, matching her tone to his. How very... cordial. Samantha's posture stiffened ever so slightly at his next words, though she could hardly fault him for this particular line of thinking. She had abandoned him, and now had appeared out of nowhere within his home. It did seem as though she would want something.

"No," Samantha said simply, though she broke their gaze long enough to consider her next words. "I mean, I am here for a reason, but not in the way you think, perhaps."

How she longed for the ease of their conversations before. It had once been so easy to confess exactly what she was thinking to the man standing across from her. But now... now there was so much... etiquette. He was a King after all. But... but he had always been a king. And that had never changed the way he'd treated her. He'd always been more than kind to her, and it was that in mind that she looked up once more, her confidence seeming to return to her.

"I'm here... because I miss you. And I owe you an apology, or a dozen." Samantha moved then, coming to close the distance between them. She didn't touch him, not yet. But now that they were arms length away from each other, it seemed less intimidating to talk to him. They were old friends. Just old friends who hadn't seen each other in awhile.

"I left Sacrosanct for a lot of reasons, and I'm beginning to realize I left for the wrong reasons. A lot happened to me before I left and I felt..." She waved a hand dismissively. For an empath, she was very out of touch with how she had felt then. "Victimized? Paranoid? Heartbroken. Guilty, most of all. I was scared of being what I am, and I tried to solve that by taking on a monarchy when I had no idea how to be a faerie, let alone a queen of them. I thought if I could make myself seem important than I would be. And in turn, I'd be untouchable."

Samantha dropped her hands to her sides, having realized she was talking entirely with them and that her voice had gotten louder as her speech became more passionate. She cleared her throat, dropping her voice to a normal volume before she continued.

"In the end it was my own fault for the things that happened, and I spent some time figuring that out. I'm... I'm glad I did that, at least. But I left in the wrong way. I should have talked to you about it. I should have told you what I needed to do and where I was going, and instead I left in the middle of the night with barely a note that told you I was going away. And you..." Samantha trailed off, finally lifting her gaze up to her companion. "You deserved better than that. After everything you've done for me, you deserved to be treated better than that."

Samantha wanted to touch him now, but his emotions still flickered confusingly for the empath, and frankly she wasn't sure of the reaction from the man if she reached out to embrace him now. Instead, she continued to stare at him and certainly felt entirely vulnerable with it all out there in the open.

"So I'm here because I am asking for your forgiveness. And more than that, I'm asking for your friendship, again."

There, it was entirely up to him how to proceed.


       

try to pull my status but they couldn't fake it

       

Samantha Cassidy