Chapter Five
Lucy
Lucy had taken on the stage job to support her shop, but hadn't expected to enjoy it this much.
Even with Windemere being flexible with her shop hours, running Turn the Page during the day and working on the build for a few hours at night made for long days.
But spending those evening hours with Dainley made it all the better.
Every evening since that read through, Lucy and Dainley would meet at the theatre.
Windemere usually had dinner brought in for them.
Supplies had been delivered during the day, and Lucy would verify that everything was up to her standard.
She and Dainley would eat and discuss their plan for how to make the most of three or four hours.
The back half of the theater building was a wood shop where Windemere's usual set builder would make everything like flat backgrounds, platforms and stairs, and even special furniture that would break a certain way during fight scenes.
Lucy was impressed with the array of tools and found anything she needed and didn't have herself was here.
For such a physically demanding task, it was hard to do with never touching each other.
Dainley would help steady pieces as Lucy sawed, or he would pass her a pouch of nails, and their fingers would meet.
At the end of the night when they were giddy with exhaustion, Lucy had once or twice made a silly game of brushing sawdust off each other.
She had let Dainley brush off the back of her legs and butt.
He used quick, sweeping motions, never let his hand linger long enough to be disrespectful, but each contact left a sizzling path on Lucy's skin.
Lucy would brush off Dainley's shoulders, and she wasn't quite so careful.
His shoulders were stacked with hard muscle under her fingers, an obvious match to the burly forearms she had seen barely contained by his rolled up sleeves.
The longer they worked together, the more Lucy was starting to think of other ways they could pass three or four hours.
One breezy night as she was closing up Turn the Page, Dainley had met her at her shop instead of the theatre. "I thought it might be nice to walk together," he said.
"Oh, I'd love to!" Her bells jingled with each step as they made their way to Windemere's theatre, her ribbons trailing in the wind.
Despite Dainley's shorter legs, he kept up with Lucy well enough. Still, she wanted a little time with him that wasn't work, and she slowed her pace.
"You never did tell me what you like to read." Lucy gave him a little nudge with her elbow.
"Oh, uh," Dainley shrugged. "Books aren't really for me."
"What?" Lucy felt stricken. "Don't be silly, there are books for everyone!"
"Eh," he shook his head, "not me."
"What do you mean?" She watched him as they walked. "It can't be that you don't like stories. You enjoyed the read through as much as I did, if not more."
Dainley was quiet a moment before answering.
"I mean when I look at words on a page, nothing looks right.
Letters will slide around within a word, or it looks like the wrong word altogether.
I wanna be clear, I can read. Just most of the time, it's more effort than the payoff. " He kept his gaze straight ahead.
"Oh…" She thought on this. "Have you ever thought of learning Brellic?"
"The thing with the raised symbols on the paper and you read by touch?" Dainley quirked a brow at her.
"I knew someone at my old job who had something like you describe. He told me about it once. When he was older and his vision had grown poor enough, he learned Brellic, and I would watch his fingers flit over pages and he said it was smoother than he ever read with his eyes."
"Hm," Dainley took a few seconds before he shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the idea. "I'm not learning a whole different language just to read."
"Well—" Lucy started to try to counter, try to persuade.
She would do anything to be able to keep reading, and couldn't fathom not having the access to information that reading afforded.
But Dainley's tone was firm, as if he had carved it into stone like ancient dwarf strongholds.
She fumbled a few false starts before replying, "I thought I'd ask, in case it was useful. "
They were quiet for long enough after that Lucy was afraid she had offended him. Distracted by figuring out if she should apologize and how, she didn't notice the lamp post banner that had come loose until she snagged its ropes on one horn.
"Oh, no!" Lucy gasped and almost fell over rather than drag the whole thing with her. Panic rose in her chest, along with embarrassment. She dropped her bag to start untangling the ropes from her horn, but couldn't see well enough to get herself free.
"I'll help you, Lucy, just let me look!" Dainley laid a grounding hand on her waist, and the heat of the contact stilled her as if someone had thrown cold water on her. She was still breathing too fast to be calm, and was too stuck to bend her head to where Dainley could see.
Dainley got up on a bench by the lamp post and examined how the ropes tangled around her horn. His short, blocky fingers were deft as he finagled her free in a matter of seconds. He'd pulled off a ribbon in the process, and returned it to her. "Better?"
Lucy heaved a sigh of relief, but twisted the stray ribbon in her fingers. "I was afraid I was about repeat the Incident. Thank you, Dainley." Mortified, she turned to grab her bag and get walking again. She halted at the dubious look Dainley gave her.
"What happened?"
Lucy sighed, letting her cheeks puff out.
Her voice came out thick. "It was years ago, when I was still pretty new to Port Florien.
I wasn't yet used to people who don't know to, um, avoid the horns," she said pointedly.
"I was crouching to buy some strawberries from this gnome vendor.
Some kids ran through, rough housing, one of them bumped into me and startled me.
I turned quickly and…" she grimaced, "caught the other straight in the eye as they ran up.
" Lucy shuddered. "I still remember the screaming.
" It was an awful scene. Someone in the crowd had been able to stop the bleeding and heal the wound, but that didn't regrow the eye.
Poor kid was walking around somewhere with an eye patch to this day.
Dainley's brows shot up with a flat lipped grimace. "Oh, Miss Lucy. That's terrible."
"I almost cut off my horns that day." Her voice was small and trembled like her remaining ribbons. "Rather than risk that happening ever again."
He took her hand and rubbed a callused thumb over it. "That sounds serious. What would happen if you cut them off?"
"They won't grow back," her head bowed. "And…let's say it wouldn't be good for my family. That's when I started doing…" she pointed loosely at her ribbons and bells. "I try to be very careful now."
Dainley's iron gray brows knit together. He nodded and grunted a wordless agreement, but didn't say anything else.
The moment stretched, and Lucy started walking again. This time Dainley didn't stop her, but took her hand for the rest of the walk to the theatre.
The next night, Dainley showed up at Lucy's shop again, right at closing time.
He presented two small pieces of heavy leather, sewn into cones and dyed a bright pink.
"It's for your horns, if you want them," his voice was soft.
"Win has me make leather claw caps for draki actors so their toe claws don't scratch up the stage.
These work like a charm, and I thought they might work for your tips. If you want the option."
Lucy ran her fingers over the stitching and details of the little pink leather cones. He had even tooled little flowers around the open end. "That's…" she let out a sound that was between a sob and a laugh. "That's incredibly thoughtful and sweet, Dainley. Thank you."
It was a reach, but she was able to fit the pink caps over the sharp tips of her horns.
It was just a little loose, and Dainley was quick to offer some tiny scraps to stuff inside until the fit was as snug as she needed.
They were much more effective than the time she tried to use wine corks to cover her tips, and looked much better. "They're perfect."
While working at the theatre, she still moved carefully if she was near any of the curtains or the ropes used to move them, but she was grateful she no longer had to worry about the horror of snagging the giant swaths of velvet.
At the end of the night, as they walked home, Lucy and Dainley talked and laughed together.
The closer they got to the corner where they went their separate ways, the more they slowed their pace.
It was almost midnight when they reached that corner and they paused.
The lamp post above them wreathed them in a dull orange glow.
Dainley's eyes, a cool gray that matched the iron gray of his hair and beard, sparked in the lamp light.
He smiled, crinkling the skin around his eyes.
"Well, uh, I'll see you tomorrow, Lucy." His fingers, locked with hers for the walk, lingered like he was reluctant to pull away.
"Dainley?" Lucy traced the lightest streak in his beard with her free hand.
Her heart raced, her cheeks heating in a way that couldn't be blamed on the warm night.
She leaned a little closer to him, angling her head toward his.
She might have imagined it, but she thought Dainley rose up on his toes, just a bit.
She closed the distance and planted her lips over his.
Although so much of him was firm, bordering on stony, his lips were soft and yielding.
His hand found the back of Lucy's neck and pulled her deeper into their kiss, sliding his tongue over hers.
Lucy's breath left her in a sigh. If she was already reluctant to leave him for the night, now it would take a feat of strength to tear her mouth from his.
Eventually they released each other, and Dainley had a grin plastered to his face that probably matched her own.
She murmured to him, "See you tomorrow, Dainley.
" With a painful slowness, they eased apart until only their fingers still touched.
With a last, sweet look, Lucy turned and headed down her street.