More Drabble-ish-ness
I seem to jump around a lot in my drabbles... Oh well, one cannot control plot bunnies! If you do, they breed like mad just for spite...
=^.^=
Amathia was sitting in the formal sitting room, a slight frown creasing her brow. There were no other signs of distress from the composed water nymph. Her lovely face was composed, her elegant hands folded in her lap while her startling blue eyes kept their vigil on the clock that was hung above the mantle. Her pale blond hair was perfectly kept in a French knot with not one hair out of place. In a motion so smooth and elegant it would have never been seen as the nervous gesture it was, she lifted her hands and brushed them down the skirt of her flowing blue dress.
The table in front of her was exquisitely set for afternoon tea. Dainty sandwiches and delicate petite-fours were compiled on a tiered tray while fresh scones awaited the necessary clotted cream and jam before consumption. The teapot (a beautiful work of English china, with wild roses painted to forever grow up it's sides) sat in the core of it all like a benevolent queen.
At exactly 3:14 (Amathia knew because she was looking directly at the clock at the time) the first guest arrived. Quite dramatically, in fact, with a plume of black smoke signaling her entrance.
It was quite clear that Morgan had just arrived from 'work', as she was still in what she dubbed 'witchy gear'. Her black skirt would have fallen just bellow the knees, had it not been for the double layered dark red underskirt that puffed it up to just above her knees. Her black lace up boots had 3 inch heels, which the woman claimed to need to intimidate her 'prey'. The black peasant top had sleeves that were slightly sheer without being completely transparent while upon the mass of curly brown hair sat the clear symbol of her profession.
"Been waiting long, Amathia?" The witch queried her green eyes sharp as she took in the waiting nymph. Her voice brought to mind fresh tart apples dipped in caramel, and held a dry note for her friend as the guest removed her hat.
"Of course not," the nymph countered gracefully, rising from her seat to properly greet her guest. "I knew better than to expect any of you on time." There was amusement in her voice, waves and ripples in a soothing brook of sound.
The two embraced, and Morgan took the red velvet chair across from her friend who returned to the loveseat. Leaning back in her chair, the witch grinned. "I'm the first here? What a shock to your system that must be."
Amathia ignored the comments as she pulled a delicate cup a saucer from the nearby tea cart. Bleeding heart fuchsias encircled the cup in the design on it, while a touch of gold-tone on the handle and rim gave the cup a definite sophistication.
"How was work tonight?" the hostess asked politely, going about the elegant task of making her guest a cup of tea.
"Ugh. Mortals," The witch made a face. "You know how it goes; they finally stock up enough good karma to get a free wish and then they blow it all to hell by wishing for something stupid. Honestly, why can't they just think a little first before opening their mouths... Ah, thank you!" Morgan took the now full cup with unexpected grace, raising it to her lips for a small sip. A sigh of satisfaction was quick to follow. "Perfect temperature, with just enough sugar and no milk. How do you remember?"
The nymph shrugged effortlessly, a small smile gracing just the corners of her lips. "A gift," she quipped, quickly making herself a cup (a simple white cup and saucer with blue butterflies) before motioning her guest to continue. Before the witch could continue with her discourse, there was the sound of a door opening and closing. Both turned towards the doorway just in time to catch the next guest entering.
A woman entered the room with a sweeping gesture, her cloak and skirt billowing out behind her. Her cloak was pure white and edged in some unknown white fur while her renaissance style gown was a very light almost white blue, with pure white embroidery on the hems and waist. Her white hair was pulled from her face with a simple silver circlet and hung past her waist. She removed the cloak and held it out, letting go without even looking. Mysteriously enough, it hovered in place for a moment before floating over to the same coat rack where Morgan's hat now resided. As the woman overlooked the two seated with a distinctly haughty look, two pearlescent wings unfurled from her back to proudly reach their full size.
There was a moment of silence before Morgan slowly started clapping.
"Wonderful entrance, Jadis. I am sure that Amathia is equally impressed," The witch commented, sarcasm dripping from every word.
The fairy's expression changed from haughty to exasperated quite quickly. "Morgan, you promised you wouldn't make fun of it this time," Jadis reminded with a small glare as she sat next to Amathia who already had a cup of tea (this cup blue and white with gold edging) ready and waiting.
Jadis started to drink, but paused. "Honey and milk, right?" she queried her friend, who looked indignant. The tea in the frost fairy's cup began to swirl dangerously.
"Of course!"
Morgan laughed. "You've offended our hostess with your lack of belief," she scolded with a grin, her eyes sparkling over the rim of her cup as she took another sip. Jadis rolled her eyes and blew across the surface, small frost crystals forming on the edge of the cup as she did so.
Immortals could be so touchy over afternoon tea.
=^.^=
And this drabble started because I was looking at teacups... Here are the ones I mentioned in the drabble:
Morgan's: http://www.geldersefuchsia.info/Afb.algemeen%209/C16-a.Regency%20cup%20and%20saucer%20Fuschia%2048kBkB.jpg
Amathia's: http://www.sala-online.co.uk/sols/images/products/135-thumb.jpg
Jadis's: http://www.dargate.com/242_auction/242_images/3233.jpg
And, for referance, I got the names from legit stuff. Guess where they came from... *evil grin* Hint: They're all from well known literature, but not from the same story.