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Yvette in Swansong
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He laughs and lets go, turning away to lean on the elaborate stone railing and look out over his domain.

"Magic, of course. It's amazing the things you can do with three thousand years of ever-growing power."

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"Yeah," she agrees, looking pensively at the pretty scenery. Some part of her is saying, yes I want to live in this beautiful place with its gorgeous gardens and welcoming forest, but the rest of her is much more sensible.

"So - you, your daughter, anyone you carry off to your mountain - how many's that, do I need to go make introductions of some kind?"

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"You might not find the girls very good company," he says with a smile. "There's a few dozen of them at the moment, but they mostly stay by the lake until I need them. Iri has her own wing of the castle, over there," he gestures, "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't enter it without her permission, but she comes out now and then."

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He's just making it so hard to forget that he's actually completely horrific and terrible. So very, very hard.

"Knock first before entering, right, I can do basic courtesy." Also because she really, really doesn't want to accidentally stumble on - things. The various things one could stumble upon in this castle. "So what I'm hearing is that mostly I'm free to do whatever, and am going to be one of your major sources of conversation."

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"That's about the size of it," he agrees. "Do you like books? I have a library."

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"I do!" she agrees, smiling slightly. That actually sounds fascinating, books that are three thousand years old, books from before the fall of the Ansati Empire, yes please.

(And then sometimes he makes it very easy to forget that he's actually completely horrific and terrible. This is her life now.)

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He grins. "I can show you there, if you want. Or you can wander around looking for it yourself. There's guest rooms, too, same applies to them."

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The time that she spends entertaining him with almost-pleasant banter and perfectly nice tours of the house is time that he's not tormenting some poor girl whose only crime was standing out at a party. She's drunk, but she's not so drunk that this doesn't occur to her. She can put up with being charming to try and spare them as much as possible, until she can figure out some kind of better solution.

"Wandering around sounds like I'd get lost really easily, and I thought the entire reason you liked me was for my conversation? Besides, I barely handled the stairs. Do you want to see if I'll bumble my way over a balcony?"

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"Oh, don't do that, not when I haven't even made you immortal yet," he says. "All right, library or guest rooms?"

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"Wasn't planning to," she agrees. Even if it might actually be pretty smart, she doesn't think she has the stomach for suicide. "Oh, library, certainly. So I can choose the guest room based on the route to the library."

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"Clever," he says, grinning. "This way, my lady."

And he sweeps a theatrical bow and leads her through the beautiful doors into his beautiful palace. Every hall is lit by magelight; what would be a ruinous expense for anyone else seens to be trivial for the Lord of the Howling Mountain. Some of the lights are floating in midair, for no apparent reason other than aesthetics.

After a few hallways and a short turn down a broad spiral stair, they come upon the library. It's a huge round room with a domed glass ceiling, lit by more floating magelights and filled with shelves and shelves of books, with an open space in the middle so light and air can travel freely up and down all eight floors. Apparently he doesn't have to worry about damage from the light. Well, after three thousand years, his books had better be more than ordinary amounts of durable.

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Oh.

"I," she begins, and then she stops. "I might need a minute, hold on."

She stares. "Any books I shouldn't be touching, or, can I just." She waves a hand expressively, words failing her.

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"Oh, no, feel free," he says, grinning broadly, eyes sparkling with delight. "Read anything you like."

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"I am definitely going to," she agrees, a little faintly. "Not right now, the alcohol might tempt me to mistreat them in some way and I'd feel terrible, but." Another expressive handwave.

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"Guest rooms, then?"

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"Guest rooms." Except her eyes are still drawn to the gorgeous, gorgeous library. She has not seen this many books in her life. She has not led a life bereft of books.

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"Or you can take a moment to appreciate the books first."

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"I think to properly appreciate the books I'd have to stay in here for days, we should probably go while my dignity is intact. It is tempting to drool."

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He giggles.

"This way, then!"

And off through the lovely halls and down the lovely stairs and past dozens of lovely rooms, until they reach a corridor where he says, "These are closest to the library. Pick any one you like."

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"Thank you!" she says sunnily, and she means it.

Reminding herself the specifics of how abusive relationships (sexual or no) are set up is a task she's reserving for when she's sobered up a bit. Yes, being given nice things does not at all mean she's safe. But it's still nice, and she's not wrong for enjoying them a little. Later, she can have the philosophical self-recrimination. Until then she can just be precisely what the Lord of the Howling Mountain seems to want her to be. Happy, against all sense.

The room she chooses isn't the largest, but it does have a gorgeous view of the gardens and forest, and she seems to find the layout of the room itself to her taste.

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He smiles.

"Anything else you need for now?"

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"For now, maybe not, but for later I'll need to know some more of the layout - where your daughter's wing is so I can avoid going into it without permission, where the kitchens are if I'm hungry at a strange hour, where the dining room is if you want me to dine with you - probably clothes, too, and - is there a place to have a bath here if I want one, I expect so because magic but...?"

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"Iri's wing is northwest, away from the lake. Hard to wander into by accident; there's only one door that joins it to the rest of the castle. There's places to get food and a bath - as for clothes, I hope you'll forgive me if everything's a little old-fashioned, but try the wardrobe in your room, it'll give you things that fit. I can show you the kitchen and dining hall and so on - now, or later?"

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"Now seems fine," she chirps. "And, really, I don't mind clothes a bit old-fashioned, as long as they fit and are relatively comfortable."

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"Well, that's lucky," he says cheerfully. "Closest place to get a bath is right at the end of the hall, actually," he points. "It's all magic, of course, never runs out of water or anything. And the main dining hall is downstairs," he turns to lead her in that direction. "Right under the balcony where we landed, actually. So not very far down the stairs."

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