Author's note: I promised Goblin113, Tweetyshell, and HeWhoLikesToArgue I would write a story which referenced Christina Rossetti's The Goblin Market. I also told myself, if I did all my homework, I was going to write a V for Vendetta story just for the fun of it….So, without further ado, this is my attempt. Please, tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. I own nothing. (Based on a combination of both the graphic novel and the movie version, both of which are absolutely brilliant, but, unfortunately, I still do not own nor have any rights to.)
To a Goblin's Delight
It would happen eventually, for that there was no doubt. The tension growing between them was palpable, straining the cordial confines of their relationship. Hints and innuendoes were becoming more apparent in his inane poetic verses and in her subtle subversions. To V, it was a waltz. A graceful flow of gaiety; causally moving, gliding and spinning across the plains of a musical divide he, himself, was creating. At times he would lead the delicate minuet, at other's he allowed his lady to move without his overtures. In his mind, he could already see them hand in hand, on the edge of the sand; dancing by the light of the moon (1). Their body entangled in rapture, moving with delicate grace to his desire and music. Neither knew where their dance would lead them, but it did not make a difference. It was the dance itself which mattered.
Prologue: The Request
Evey stood in the small kitchen of the Shadow Gallery, looking through the cupboards, musing to herself, and 'Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard.' Raising her lithe figure onto her toes, she peered at the top shelf before closing the cupboard door. Turning to the tray she had neatly lain out on the table, she studied it, shifting the tea pot, cup and the teacakes she had placed there. 'But when she got there, the cupboard was bare and everyone went without (2).' Shaking her golden locks, Evey sighed and lifted the tray.
Mutes sounds as music and battle came to Evey's ears as she turned down one of the many corridors making up her new home. She had been living in the Shadow Gallery for a little over a month, but already it and its creator held significant places in her heart. Halting outside an entry way, Evey smiled. She had causally started calling this particular room the "rumpus room," but, in actuality, it was a cross between a gymnastic training arena and a well-stocked armory. Carefully balancing the tray, Evey reached for the door knob and placed her shoulder against a door, pushing it open to be assailed with a blast of sound.
For a moment, Evey stood silently in the doorway watching a black clad figure in a wig and Guy Fawkes mask, moving gracefully around the room. In his hands and strapped to his well-shaped body were eight-inched steel bladed knives, lethal and glittering in the light. The elegance of his trim body and the way in which he moved took Evey's breath away as she watched a deadly ballet be performed in front of her. Spinning and twirling to the beat of the music, the figure, the man known only as V, sliced, jabbed, and disemboweled a series of mannequins around the room. Sawdust and sand flew threw the air as V, with a gentle arabesque, removed the head of a dressmaker's dummy. With what appeared to be supernatural speed and grace, he whirled in a perfect pirouette, letting two blades fly. Only a glint of silver could be seen as the rapiers impelled themselves, one through the throat, the other the center of the heart, on another unsuspecting wooden and sawdust victim.
As the music swelled, so did the pounding of Evey's heart. She found herself enthralled with the dexterity of the man before her, envisioning scenarios which made her face burn with desire. As the tempo changed and the movement marked the last crescendo, V leaped into the air in what appeared to be a grand ecart, but it changed. Bringing out his right leg, the heel of his black booted foot grazed across what would have been the face of his prey. The action, had the mannequin been an actual person, would have shattered the jaw and pummeled the nose into the brain. Landing gracefully, V gave a grant cambre by means of a bow, sheathing the knives still in his hands, as the music came to an end.
'Bravo,' laughed Evey from the doorway; still holding the tray.
Whipping around in the direction of the voice, V tried to check himself, but a knife easily slipped to and from his hand, sailing in Evey's direction. With speed Evey would have thought possible, a second blade struck the first, knocking each off target and crashing harmlessly into the wall centimeters from her head. Stepping towards the ridged woman before him, V's smiling mask stooped and looked at the total terror in Evey's face.
'Evey?' Asked V, lifting the tray from her shaking grasp and setting in on a table. 'Are you alright?'
Nodding, Evey stared into the smiling porcelain before her, mentally kicking herself for not remembering how dangerous this man, apologizing before her, actually was despite all his gallantry.
'You have my humblest of apologies; it was not my intent to frighten you.'
'It's alright V; I should have let you know I was here. It is completely my fault.'
There was silence for a moment as each stood considering the other, uncertain what to say. Then Evey, as if breaking from a trace as her heart began to settle, nodded towards the tray. 'I was just bringing you some tea.'
Turning his head, V looked towards the tray and then back to Evey. 'Thank you. That was most kind of you.' There was a moment's pause before he continued. 'Again I apologize, but it may have been safer, it you had just left the tray outside the door. I become very…involved with my play and do not always remember others are about.'
'Yes,' smiled Evey shyly. "I noticed, but I wanted to ask you something.'
'A fair request should be followed by the deed, my sweet Eve.'(3) Evey could hear the smile on his face in his voice. Standing before her as he was, breathing heavily from her exertions, Evey had to mentally kick herself as thoughts of reaching out and touching him floated through her mind.
'Fruit,' she said at last, shaking herself as she realized V was patiently watching her, waiting while she stared at him.
'Fruit? Is that a commentary or a request?' he asked with a slight tilt of the head.
'A request. The supplies are getting low which means you will be…' She hesitated, she did not want to say robbing Chancellor Sutler's supplies, even though that was what V often did to obtain their food, so with a grin, she settled on a better phrase, '…doing the shopping.' A low chuckle sounded from V, making Evey smile. 'Anyway, if possible, I have a request and the request is fruit.'
'Fruit,' said V. 'If that is your request, you I will try not to deny.'
'Excellent!'
'Morning and evening maids heard the goblins cry: Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy. Apples and quinces, lemons and oranges, plump unpecked cherries-melons and raspberries, bloom-down-cheeked peaches, swart-headed mulberries,
wild free-born cranberries, crab-apples, dewberries, pine-apples, blackberries, apricots, strawberries--all ripe together in summer weather (4). Which, Evey shall be your pleasure?' asked V, again slightly tilting his head in question.
'Whichever you can find,' Evey answered with a shrug. 'Whichever you would prefer in fact.'
'Ah, my dear Eve, it is only maidens who can hear the goblins cry, but for you I will try.'
With a nod, V turned to the tray, signaling to Evey it was time for her to leave. For a few seconds she lingered, letting her eyes fall across V's shoulders and back as he poured his tea. The vest and high collared shirt he wore clung to him, accenting his slight, muscular physique and forced the eye to drop lower to his well-defined, firm, tight…
'Evey?'
Evey's eyes shot up, as raw heat washed over her face. She prayed she was not openly panting at the thoughts running her hands down his back, up his body, and feeling his muscles, exploring the firmness of his very fit figure. V, now facing her only made it worse, as her eyes involuntary followed his shape. God! How she wanted to undress him, burns or no.
'Evey.' There was sharpness to V's voice which made her jump, finally breaking her fantasy. 'Was there something else?'
'No, no,' quickly she turned her back to him, making as if she were about to leave, fearing she would loss herself again, 'just thinking.'
'Of grapes fresh from the vine, pomegranates full and fine, dates and sharp bullaces,
rare pears and greengages, damsons and bilberries, currants and gooseberries,
bright-fire-like barberries, figs to fill your mouth, and citrons from the South?'(4)
Glancing over her shoulder, Evey smiled warmly. 'Of something like that, yes.'
Although she could not see it, Evey was certain, behind his mask V was grinning from ear to ear, as a soft chuckle escaped him. 'Come buy our orchard fruits Evey, come buy, come buy.'
Laughing at his poetic inanity, Evey shook her golden tresses dismissing him, 'I'm going to take a nice long bath.' Turning on her heal, before disappearing into the darken hallway, Evey again let her eyes linker on V. 'See you later,' she smiled quietly before disappearing from site.
Making certain she was gone; V shut and locked the door to his weapons gallery, breathing deeply. He had felt Evey's eyes on him. He had seen in her eyes what she had been thinking. Lucky for him, she could not see his eyes doing to the same to her. It had not been the excursion of his practice which had him breathing deeply while standing before her, but Evey herself. How he wanted to feel her skin, to caress her body, to explore the small dip at the base of her throat and trace it wherever it would lead him. Her eyes, emotionally seducing him did not help.
'Sweet to tongue and sound to eye, dearest Eve, come buy, come buy,' mumbled V before mentally shaking himself. (4). Forcing images of Evey and her bath from him mind, V raised his mask to drink his tea.
Author's Note and Some Important Information to you the Reader...
End Notes: I hold not claim to the quoations used, they are the words of others.
1) The Owl and the Pussycat, by Edward Lear
2) Old Mother Hubbard, a Nursery Rhyme about Cardinal Wolsey, Catherine Argon, and Henry VIII
3) The Divinve Comedy, The Inferno by Dante
4) Goblin Market, by Christina Rossetti
Ballet Vocabulary
arabesque: A position in which the dancer balances on one leg, the other extended backwards with straight knee while the arms hold various positions.
cambre: bending from the waste in any direction
grand ecart: leaping and spinning the legs wide apart to the side or from the front to the back
pirouette: whirling on the toes of one foot
Information...I give you fair warning. The Goblin Market, for those who do not know the poem, is one of the most sexually based poetic pieces of literature ever written. Very few people can read it without either being appalled by its content or blushing deeply from embarrassment. It is absolutely wonderful on its overtones, which of course, has a great deal to do with the characters of Laura and her sister Lizzie partaking of the "The goblin men's fruit."
I also want to ask, humbly, for all of those who have never read my stories, to be patient with me. I start out slowly, setting a scene or situation, and then later, I add lots of twist and turns. I also have a habit of slipping in little details which crop up later. For instance, the references to the waltz and the minuet, the poem with sexual overtones, and a bit of violence with knives will play important roles in the story I have in mind. Next chapter I have already plotted, and hopefully will have it written in the next day or two. (If anyone would like to read it.)
Please, as you have read this, let me know what you think. I am, regretfully, one of those people who will write more and update sooner if I know people are enjoying my story. (If you're not enjoying it…that's ok too, and I will be curious to see why you do not.)