HEAR THE BOOM BOOM BOOM OF YOUR HEART [c]

[NOËLLE APOLLINE GAUTHIER]

* i'm not here looking for absolution ,
• BECAUSE I FOUND MYSELF AN OLD SOLUTION •

god, but she was getting tired of him.

noëlle, change the table cloth, he'd say, looking at her with those carmine eyes. noëlle, put the plain china out, he'd order when she gave him a surly look. give me a smile, ma bichette, he'd purr, as if he hadn't commanded her to do something like a servant. noelia- is what he'd begin to say when she stormed past him, slamming the kitchen door behind her as she left.

this was how their morning had progressed, and since then, noëlle had seen neither hide nor hair of aleksandr. that was, perhaps, the first smart thing he'd done all morning - better to avoid her when he put her into a blackened mood than press it, and she was certain that he had learned that the hard way by now. not that he had ever bothered to heed this dictation before; more often than not, he was most content with reminding her who precisely dragged her from that hellhole she had lived in with lukasz.

however irritated she was with him, though, no did as he'd told her to do. he was expecting a guest today - nikolai belanov, she'd repeated when he'd told her, curious about the foreign name rolling off of her tongue. aleksandr had explained to her that nikolai was an old friend, of sorts - if aleksandr could have friends, anyway - and that he was too be welcomed with the utmost cordiality. as if noëlle ever lost her cool in front of anyone besides aleksandr.

their european home was large and spacious, bought specifically because noëlle had grown weary of their cramped english cottages they tended to migrate between. this house was grand - tall french windows with gauzy white curtains, high-ceilings in every room, a sweeping staircase that had been the deal breaker for no when they had been looking at houses to buy.

when the sound of the doorbell rang, aleksandr slipped into the living room, resting a hand on her hip as he came to stand beside her.

"be a doll, noelia, and get the door," he said - once again, as if nothing had happened - and pressed a kiss to her cheek that elicited a roll of her eyes. he moved away to sit down in the parlor, every bit the smug cat that had eaten the canary, and noëlle pressed her lips into a thin line as she went to open the door.

"bonjour. you are aleksandr's friend, then?"

tagged // nikolaiiii

[NIKOLAI ALEXANDER BELANOV]

It wasn't often he got summoned places. More often than not those who needed him found him, at least when he let them, and they conducted business in the safety of one of Nikolai's many less homes, where he felt most secure meeting them. Perhaps it was silly, his faint paranoia, but though he rarely let it control his life, it sometimes came in handy when it came to the lifestyle he now lead. A life of relative seclusion and inconspicuousness negated the need for protection, for security, as one's name was never important enough for high powers to bother with, or lower ones to conspire against. Once one's name was out there, however--once one was known, if only by aforementioned name as opposed to face--that little extra bit of security, of protection, of confidence and assurance, was often vital. Powerful people wouldn't do business with one such as him if they thought he was unstable, and he had been doing this too long to risk the ire of those more influential than him.

It was why he almost never met his contacts, the wealthy and the affluential of vampiric society, in their own homes. Nikolai was no fool, he knew he had enemies, and it would be stupid of him to overlook the fact that even those he had assisted upon might turn on them, should it suit their needs. It was why he kept his gift a secret--his ability to vanish at will, the chameleon-like talent that let him move through crowds, through forests, seen but unseen, folded in their memories but always hidden--from everyone, so that it could not be used against them. The illusion always became a little bit harder to maintain when people were aware of it, after all, though not so hard that Nikolai couldn't manage it with concentration instead of the easy transition he used on a regular basis.

This, however, was a request he couldn't refuse, not without losing the small amounts of influence he had built with the vampire Aleksandr, a well-known name in the upper community; a name Nikolai had always heard, though it had held more prominence in the past, among gilded walls and shining palaces filled with the rustling of silken skirts and sultry smiles hidden in the eyes of the court occupants. Though he wasn't partial to what the request was--it would be told to him upon arrival, or so the message had been--he would have been a fool to ignore it, and Nikolai was no fool. So he travelled under the guise of his gift, allowing no one to see him until he reached the grand house that marked the currently living space of the well-known vampire.

For a moment, Nikolai just eyed it carefully, silently comparing it to other residences he had seen in his lifetime; to the frigid splendour of the Winter Palace to his own estates, the ones he had grown up in three centuries ago, and finally to the estate he had once lived in as little as--

He frowned pensively, reaching up to brush an errant piece of hair from his face, where it had fallen irritatingly over his forehead. Melancholy got one nowhere, and it certainly hadn't been the reason for Nikolai's elevation. Though he missed the comforting presence at his side, and the amused eyes with the warm laugh that just always seemed to know all the answers, delighting in drawing them out as Nikolai frowned in displeasure--missed it so much that he sometimes couldn't function, not entirely, spending entire days just sitting in one of the darker rooms of one of his estates, twisting the ring on his right index finger for hours, sliding it from there to his thumb--reflecting on the missing wouldn't help him.

It was with that decisive thought that Nikolai let his gift taper out, rendering him visible as he left the shadows and moved towards the house, the mask of an aristocrat sliding over his face effortlessly, like breathing had once been. It was amazing how society could change so much, but the rich and affluential still enjoyed being catered too like they were the most important people in the world, no matter how false the smiles around them were; no matter how bald-faced the worlds spoken.

Doorbells were something Nikolai had an irrational dislike for--the very act of reaching out and pushing one made him have to repress a jolt as he raised his hand--but he rang it and stepped back swiftly, waiting in silence, his face flat, for it to open.

He was surprised, though he kept it under wraps, when a young-looking woman opened the door, her brown hair framing a slender face around the crimson of her eyes.

"I am one he sent for, yes," Nikolai replied, and though his Russian accent wasn't as thick and awkward as it had been upon his first learning the English language, it had not vanished completely, curling around his words with a fluidity that rivalled the movements of a graceful cat. "He has neglected mentioning you, though, I fear." Nikolai tilted his head downwards a little in a subtle gesture of deference and respect. From the way she was dressed he knew this was no servant, and that whoever she was, she was important.

[NOËLLE APOLLINE GAUTHIER]

* i'm not here looking for absolution ,
• BECAUSE I FOUND MYSELF AN OLD SOLUTION •

she shouldn't have been surprised; aleksandr was the kind of man who didn't explain things unless you asked him to, because it gave him a weird sense of power. there was no way he would have mentioned her unless nikolai had specifically asked him, why, aleksandr, tell me if you've had any other guests! or, if he'd spotted them at one of the parties aleksandr was so keen on making her attend with them, he probably wouldn't have bothered to introduce her unless someone had asked, and who is this divine creature? truth be told, aleksandr required the question to be accompanied by a compliment - not because he felt like she needed more compliments, but because he wanted people to marvel at his catch.

prisoner was a more apt description, as of late. noëlle had traveled the world with aleksandr, surely, but that didn't mean that she was content to stay in one place for a good while now. she had spent too much of her life as a human stuck in one place because she had no capability to go anywhere else; and now, in her eight hundred years, she had done more moving, more migrating, than she had ever thought she would be able to. but aleksandr was lazy, and indulgent, and annoyingly protective, and whenever she brought up the idea of her going out on her own, his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned and her gave her that look.

it was a look she'd been getting a lot of lately. noëlle knew it very well; it came about whenever she displeased him. almost always it was followed by quick, sharp discipline.

promptly, she pushed that to the back of her mind and instead focused on their visitor. he was one she hadn't yet met - aleksandr was fond of having their contacts over, just for the sole purpose of displaying how lovely and obedient she was sometimes, but most of the time it was really for business. all the same, she smiled radiantly.

"i figured he wouldn't have. i am noëlle," noëlle replied lightly, stepping aside and motioning him in. once he had come inside, she shut the door behind him. "très bon, all the same. aleksandr, your guest-"

"our guest," aleksandr corrected her as he rounded the corner. he was nothing less than impeccable, of course, considering they had a guest. slick, charming smile, perfectly groomed - all if it was put in place, straightened up from the time that he'd spent getting ruffled by noëlle's attitude.

"of course," noëlle said, rolling her eyes. "our guest is here." the antagonizing tone in her voice - the tone she used frequently with aleksandr - somehow seemed completely comfortable in her relaxed french lilt. likely this had come about from regular use.

ignoring her, aleksandr extended a hand to nikolai, motioning him into the wide, lavishly decorated living room. "it has been a long time, has it not?" he was saying as noëlle slipped past them, seating herself on the couch next to where aleksandr, too, sat. "too long, i should think. you have been well? keeping busy and out of trouble?"

[NIKOLAI ALEXANDER BELANOV]

The woman put him on edge. There was no skittering around that fact, no pretending that it wasn't there--Nikolai had learned, very early on, that pretending a problem didn't exist was the best way of getting shredded by it in the future--and absolutely, under no circumstances, would he allow her to know that she had thrown him off even for a moment. It wasn't a feeling Nikolai was familiar with, and he had to take an internal moment to calm the ire that had risen against Aleksandr, but he also gently chided himself with the fact that he hadn't been entirely prepared for it. Logically, he should have expected it--Aleksandr was a high-ranking vampire, and it was natural that he'd have others serving him, whether human or other vampires--but for whatever reason...

But it didn't matter. He was here for a reason, he was here for business, and he would not be deterred from it. Business was what drove him, after all, the accomplishing of tasks that ranged from insulting simple to agonisingly difficult, and if he loosened the reigns on that for even a singular second the grief and the anger would wash back and he would once more lose his mind to the cold blackness of hatred and anger.

For a moment, Nikolai assessed her silently, red eyes flickering across her form, before he gave a curt nod and allowed himself to be motioned inside, taking the steps from the safe outdoors into the smothering atmosphere of Aleksandr's house. It was a surprise, the feel of the house itself, for even its sheer grandeur could not disguise that fact that the place felt enclosed, like the windows were only there to give an illusion or lighthearted freedom and something other than suffocating darkness. When the door closed behind him, his eyes immediately sought the figure of the female vampire, determined not to turn his back on her until he knew, once and for all, whether she was a threat to him or not. Of course, his movements, when he did so, were subtle enough to not cause offense, merely the natural steps of an aristocrat, poised and even, with no visible imperfection, but it would not do to cause offence where no offence was due.

That was a lesson he had learned young, back when his appearance had stilled changed from year to year; back when he grew bigger, back when he grew older. He had been taught by his father that, as the only male Belanov heir, the fortunes of their family rested on him. He would have to curb his tongue where it could not wag, and use it instead to defer praise to his higher-ups even when it was, in his opinion, not due. Furthermore, he had learned that his opinions did not matter--could not matter--unless he learned to express them in a way that would make those who outranked him think it was their idea. He would have to be useful, but not... obstructive in his usefulness. Subtly was the name of the game, or so he had often been told, and after he had been turned, it was one of the first things Steinitz had repeated to him as he learned the ins and outs of his new life.

He was about to turn and answer the girl's words with some of his own when the smarmy voice of Aleksandr reached his ears, and he diverted his attention immediately to the other male vampire, keeping his mouth closed as he exchanged words with the girl. The antagonistic tone of the female registered as odd in his mind, though, and it was only through sheer experience that he prevented the small frown from flickering across his face.

This girl is much more important than suspected.

Nikolai's attention was readily grabbed by Aleksandr once more, however, and he allowed his mind to relax and subconsciously guide his movements as they all slipped into the lavishly decorated room. Nikolai's eyes, however, didn't seek out any of the finery, instead remaining respectfully on the forms of Aleksandr and whom his mind was carefully identifying as his mate.

"I keep myself out of as much trouble as possible," Nikolai said after Aleksandr's inquiry, though his wasn't foolish enough to think the other vampire meant the sentimentalities. "But yes, it has been long time, and I am as well as can be. Spaseeba." He inclined his head lightly, eyes flickering between the two vampires. "I trust you have been same, da?"

[NOËLLE APOLLINE GAUTHIER]

* i'm not here looking for absolution ,
• BECAUSE I FOUND MYSELF AN OLD SOLUTION •

that was the thing that defined noëlle from the previous "companions" that aleksandr had kept - companions which had lived short, unhealthy lives - was that she was allowed a bit of room to talk back. she was much too important to aleksandr to be simply disposed of, as he would have done (and had done) to any of his other fledglings before. of course, there was only so much he would take - and the unfortunate thing was that he had given noëlle so much leeway in that sense that now she was taking more and more because she didn't want to be his. this infuriated aleksandr to no end, of course - after all, he had saved her from a boring, bland life, had given her all of this grand luxury, and yet she held nothing for him save the respect that a fledgling always feels for her sire and a grand amount of spite.

that did not change the fact that, when given too much lip, aleksandr would respond accordingly. she could not bruise, like mortal flesh could; if he split her lip when he hit her, it would heal back within minutes, if not less time. but the pain would linger - not, perhaps, the physical pain, but humiliation - and he counted on that to keep her rooted to him.

"indeed, things have been going splendidly," aleksandr agreed after a moment, shooting noëlle a glance that implied she daren't speak otherwise - it would be just like her to make a deal out of it all, wouldn't it? - and then turned to nikolai with that slick, jungle-cat smile. "the problem is, you see-" he began, but as soon as the words were leaving his lips his cell phone buzzed noisily in his pocket. noëlle's gaze shot down to it, and an almost smug smile came to her lips - pretty, yes, lovely in the curve of her full lips, certainly - but it was positively mocking. she knew aleksandr hated it when people took calls in the middle of a meeting with him, but when he checked the caller id, he teeth gritted. an important client, in whatever business it was he dealt in.

noëlle's head tilted as she watched aleksandr through sooty lashes. "is that albain calling?" she lilted, her voice deceptively sweet. "you ought to take it. you know how impatient he gets-"

aleksandr gave her a look, then turned to nikolai. "pardon me for a moment," he said - and under any other circumstances, it wouldn't have irritated him so much to be interrupted by a phone call if noëlle hadn't pointed out, subtly, that he was in violation of his own policy. it's disrespectful, he'd explained to her one time. standing, he pressed answer on the phone call and slipped out of the room.

excellent, noëlle thought - now she had the man all to herself to question.

"so, you are a business partner?" she queried, settling comfortably on the couch, brushing dark locks back from her face with neatly manicured, slender fingers. "or a business investment? aleksandr tells me little of his friends, so i regularly assume he has none."

[NIKOLAI ALEXANDER BELANOV]

The smile that appeared on his face was tailored to perfection, with just the right amount of interest that ensured it didn't look fake while still maintaining the right level of polite respect a man of Aleksandr's standing was likely used to having. There was no rule that said the respect had to be genuine, of course, as it was so very rare that anyone garnered Nikolai's respect these days, but he stood to lose a lot more if he did not outwardly defer to Aleksandr's character here, something he could tell just from the way the man spoke, and by the way he treated those around him. His eyes were drawn briefly to the woman as a result, but they quickly returned to their original point of focus.

Men like Aleksandr were not as original as they liked to think they were, something Nikolai had learned very early on in his human life. They liked to be pandered to, as if they were the most important people in the room, but at the same time they were not to be underestimated, as they were apt to notice whenever they were not getting the treatment they felt they deserved, and were quick to punish those involved. They were much like the modern monarchs, Nikolai thought rather absently, even as his crimson eyes narrowed further on Aleksandr's cutting figure, as if he were weighing every one of Aleksandr's words carefully. It was remarkably simple to genuflect to men like Aleksandr as the years went by, and though Nikolai was still a prideful creature, he had stopped letting that pride obstruct him from what he needed to do.

And what he needed to do was ensure Aleksandr that his attention was focused completely on him, despite the way he wanted to frown at the man's pointed glance towards his female companion.

The sudden ringing of a cellphone jarred Nikolai from his goal momentarily, and for a brief second the mask slipped, revealing the ghost of a frown, before he remembered himself and let it settle over his face again, morphing his features until they revealed nothing but cool formality. It was a good thing, too, for he had caught the sly glance the woman--Noëlle, his mind gently reminded him--and he was hard-pressed to keep his mirth from showing, the amusement threatening to appear in the curve of his mouth and give him the way in the form of a blink-and-you-miss-it smile. It was even harder after she spoke, the mockery more than clear to Nikolai in the lilting tones of her voice, deceptively sweet in a way Nikolai had heard many times before in the courts of Russia.

"However long you need," Nikolai told Aleksandr as the man walked out of the room, managing to keep his voice low and even, though as soon as Aleksandr left his mind reminded him rather firmly that now he was in the room with a relative unknown, something that never served to put him at ease. The urge to conceal himself reared up in his throat, and for a moment his eyes snapped reflexively to where the door was, and in an effort to control his natural paranoia he slowly moved his hands behind his back, one of them grabbing his wrist as the fingers of the other hand curled into his palm before he flexed the fingers, then curled them in again.

He wasn't surprised by the questions she asked, but he was surprised by the acute stab of discomfort he felt as a result, though he couldn't exactly pinpoint the reason. They were substandard questions--"What do you do? How old are you really? How much will it cost? I hear Russia is lovely this time of year, is that true?--to which he usually gave equally substandard answers--"What I am paid for, old enough, depends on the task, and I would not know; I have not returned to Russia in many years."--with measured looks, cool tones, and a glass of wine held delicately in slender fingers as he settled back in a comfortable chair with a high back, generally in one of his many homes, where he felt the most comfortable.

Here, however, he was acutely aware that this was foreign territory, in more ways than one, and that this woman, Noëlle, may or may not report anything he said to her companion later. She was an unknown to him, something he had not been expecting, and it was enough to throw him off mentally, despite the precautions he had taken at an early age to prevent his own anxiety from surfacing, mostly because where the anxiety and paranoia appeared, so too did the blinding rage that made him only see white; the rage that made him want to cut a path through the supernatural world's shifter packs, leaving broken and bloodstained bodies in his wake.

Instead of letting her know that, however, he instead answered her questions, to the best of his abilities, while still retaining important information.

"In many ways, I am both," Nikolai said smoothly, his Russian accent still very prominent after three centuries, and though he did not turn his body to face her fully, he angled himself towards her, surveying her quietly. "I am partner so long as I complete tasks given, which also makes me investment." A wry smile curved his lips at her comment about his not having friends, but he dared not answer it with a careful quip of his own, lest it be a test of some sort. "And you, Miss--" he faltered briefly, realising he did not know her last name, and though it went against his usual patterns of speech he finished with, "--Noëlle? Aleksandr has never mentioned you before, at least not to me, though we are hardly good friends, so that is... understandable. I imagine he has been busy in wake of Volturi's ball. You as well."

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