Cassiopeia's Tale

The door banged open and all the bottles on Cass' workbench swayed dangerously. "Watch it!" she snapped, trying to stop them from toppling over. She had spent the past two hours carefully filling and labling them, and it would be a tragedy if they all smashed because she had a desk that had to stand behind the door.

"It's that time of the year again!" Sian sang, waving a piece of frayed parchment in the air.

Her excitement was met by a general groan of dismay among the other apprentices.

"What time?" Cass asked, bewildered, trying to hold on to all her bottles with one hand, and reaching for the piece of parchment with her other.

"The much anticipated ball!" Sian said, handing her the scrap with a flourish.

Cass took the parchment and unfolded it. It was an invitation to the annual Alchemists' Ball. The invitation was set in a morbidly gothic black letter type, and it seemed depressingly formal.

"This doesn't really seem like your kind of thing," Cass said, handing the parchment back to Sian.

"Of course it's her kind of thing," Xandie said, snatching the parchment from her. "It's practically a funeral. Sian just loves seeing everybody having an awful time."

Cass had to admit that it was true. Sian was most happy when everyone, including herself, was miserable. The bad part was that that particular personality trait wasn't even the strangest thing about Sian. There was a whole bottomless pit of dark weirdness, waiting to engulf them all.

"We should dress up old grumpy and get her a fellow!" Sian suddenly exclaimed, pointing at Cass. Xandie seemed to think it was a good idea and panted like a dog to show his enthusiasm. Then they both looked at Cass eagerly, and she shrunk back in her chair.

The two of them, in their heightened state of craziness, had taken it into their heads that Cass was, in fact, the one who needed help. In the process of 'trying to help' they had been extremely unhelpful. Least of which was the new trend they started of calling her 'Grumpy Cass'. At first it was only them, but in time the whole guild caught on, and now she was simply known as 'Grumpy'. At least everyone else had depressing nicknames too. Cass was actually lucky that 'Grumpy' had stuck to her, she could have been 'Fatty' or 'Trolltoe'.

"I'm am not letting you dress me up and forcing me to make small talk with men," Cass said, justifying her nickname by frowning deeply.

"Aww! But you're so pretty. And Claude will be there. Oh, go on, do it for me," Sian said, slapping Cass on the knee in excitement. "Getting a man will do you a world of good!"

Cass seriously doubted this. She was also a bit worried by Sian and Xandie's excitement. Anything that got them into a frenzy like that was likely to be unhealthy, or even lethal. Still, her housemates and self-proclaimed friends wouldn't kill her, would they? Or at least not on purpose...

So she agreed to go. She let Sian squeeze her into an immensely tight corset. She even agreed to smile every once in a while, on a cue Sian would give, of course. Sian lectured her endlessly on her tragically lacking social skills, and told her what to do in certain situations. Cass wasn't listening. She was thinking of Claude and inventive, yet humane ways to evade his advances. Though, with Claude pulling on the one side and Sian pushing on the other, it was getting harder and harder to avoid him. Maybe she should just give in and let them all have their way. It would, after all, be a splendid wedding. And a splendidly boring life to follow...

-oOo-

When she entered the living room, both Xandie and Claude jumped up and yelled, "Boobs!"

Cass' hands flew to her chest, covering those bulging parts of her anatomy, while the two men stood staring at her, looking mighty pleased with themselves.

"See?" Sian nudged her in the ribs. "You look fabulous, and it turns men into complete idiots. Now, let's go, we'll be late."

She grabbed Cass by the arm and headed for the door, pausing to flick her hair and call, "Come on, slaves!" over her shoulder.

-oOo-

Cass wasn't at all surprised by the décor. The ballroom was dimly lit by white tapers that cast long, flickering shadows over the floor. The lighting left all manner of dark nooks and crannies into which the sinister collection of alchemists, potioneers and apothecaries disappeared to do Merlin knows what. A normal person would think it was for some non-platonic interaction, but knowing the crowd, Cass guessed they were probably dealing in illegal substances or swapping dangerous ideas and rumours.

Dressed in her plain black ball gown and corset, Cass fit right in. Sian was wearing a long-sleeved medieval creation, with a very low neckline, showing off her every curve. The younger men nudged each other as she walked by, and Cass reflected that almost everyone at the ball was tragically lacking in social skill, so she felt right at home.

The four of them edged their way towards the punch bowl, and while Xandie made a huge show of greeting a very old alchemist in a golden pointy hat, Sian dumped a phial of pink powder in the punch. Cass stared at Claude in consternation. "I've made friends with the bad crowd!" she whispered, and all three of them cracked up laughing, leaving Cass to look like an idiot.

After spiking the punch, they drank red wine while watching the crowd getting extremely drunk... and drugged. Cass had to admit that it was entertaining to watch, and that most of the partygoers were having the most fun they'd had in years.

Sian danced with every man in the room, and most of them queued up for seconds. Xandie, against all odds, impressed a group of young female apprentices with his stories of gory alchemical accidents, none of which actually happened to him. Claude hanged around Cass, steering her form group to group, introducing her to everyone and keeping her glass full to the brim. Cass had to admit, that while the first half an hour had been fun, the party was seriously starting to bore her. When she got a chance to speak to Sian without Claude hovering by her shoulder, she begged her to go home with her.

"Why? You're a big girl, go home by yourself," Sian said, turning back to her latest dance partner. Cass grabbed her by the arm and put on the most desperate face she can muster.

"I cannot go home alone with him," she said, flicking her head in the general direction in which Claude had disappeared, presumably to get more wine.

Sian's face fell. "So you're really not biting, are you? Not even playing hard to get?"

Cass sighed and rubbed her eyes, smudging her eyeliner. "I just don't think it will ever happen. I'm just not feeling it. Please, come home with me."

"Fine," Sian said sadly. "Just let me finish this drink."

Four drinks later, Sian still showed no sign of leaving the ball. Cass' feet were really starting to hurt, and she longed for her bed. The music was extremely loud, and she could barely think straight. She peered from behind a curtain to see if there was any way to reach the door without Claude noticing, but it seemed hopeless.

And then she saw him.
Standing a little apart form the crowd, staring into his glass of wine.
Her whole body went cold. Then warm. Then numb.

"Damn," she whispered, as she placed her hand over her hammering heart. "Damn, damn, damn."

Then, suddenly, Claude was there, snaking his arms around her from behind. Cass jumped, and half on purpose, half by accident, spilled all her wine down her front.

"Look what you did!" she yelled and stormed off to the restrooms. Part of her felt guilty. It wasn't really Claude's fault. None of it was. He couldn't help who he loved, just as she couldn't.