Even cold rain ((Closed))

[dana]

Dana ran through the streets of Hogsmeade her head bowed low for two reasons. One was to keep rain out of her eyes and the other – to avoid stepping into puddles that had already formed on the ground. The rain was cold still as it hid Dana’s head and bare arms, but Dana didn’t really mind it right now. Rain brought spring melting the last pieces of remaining snow. There was still a long way to go until warm spring showers in which you could dance, but for now this rain would do. Besides it motivated Dana to move quicker and therefore warm up her muscles for the fencing practice she was heading towards. Besides the rather tedious task of staying upright on the high stiletto heels, keeping up a steady pace and avoiding puddles kept Dana’s mind occupied. None the less Dana was rather grateful as she pulled open the door ot the store above which the fencing hall was situated. Passing the owner and the clerk of the store with barely a light greeting Dana didn’t bother to say anything more already knowing that the woman hated the fencing hall her father ran.

Dragging her arms out of the leather jacket that reached her hips as she walked up the stairs Dana grinned at the already familiar creak of the 5th step as she walked upwards. She loved fencing. The grace, the skill, patience and practice, the timing. Everything about it. Finding Gareth and his fencing hall had been a real blessing for Dana. Something that helped her get her life back on track. Stopping behind the firmly closed door to the fencing hall Dana took care to make sure her boots would be dry before she pulled the door open and entered the room. The calls and the clashes of sword-blades meeting each other greeted Dana immediately as she grinned stepping further in and closing the door behind her once again. Dana threw her leather jacket carelessly to a couch on the side and making sure the buckle of her 4 inches wide belt was still securely tightened walked to the wall where her sword hung. The engraved handle of her sword with the floating ravens on it fit perfectly into her palm and the sword was nicely balanced so it wasn’t too heavy for her.

“You’re late, girlie,” came the grunt from Gareth Byrne as the man passed Dana on his way to a younger – about 10 years old boy – who was practicing some blocks by himself. “Late? Check your watch, old man. I’m here an hour before my own practice begins,” Dana drawled out her answer settling herself to walk next to Gareth not moving any faster than the man could limp with one of his missing legs. Gareth merely grunted and stopped as they reached the practicing boy. Dana glanced at him with a slight grin and nodded her head in greeting but knowing better than to speak before Gareth had finished his instructions to him. The boy wasn’t a newbie here either evidently because he listened closely to Gareth’s words as well before saying a quiet ‘hello’ to Dana. The boy wasn’t cute in no conditions. He had a bit too big chin that jutted out of his face a bit too prominently. And the eye-glasses and the shyness they seemed to call for didn’t help his outlook either as the frames were much to big for the boy.

“Practice the moves. And you keep an eye on your wrist. You let it go too limp,” Gareth grunted and Dana noticed that she hadn’t been following the text. Gareth limped away and Dana offered a calm and collected smile to the boy stepping onto the mattress against him guessing rather correctly that she was meant to fence with him. It would be good dry-practice before Dana’s real duels began. “I fence with a sharp blade,” Dana warned the boy after introducing herself briefly as Dana before placing the sheath of her sword to the side and finding a comfortable position to start fencing from. Both nodded at the other and Dana grinned as they took it slow in the first. Lazy, slow-motion moves that could easily be blocked as you say the attack coming. But it was good. It gave you time to perfect the way your sword had to move correctly. But ever so slowly the speed started to pick up. Dana did notice that the boy was holding his wrist a bit limp and she tried offering a couple of suggestions to help him get over it the slight problem that made her blocks weaker. Yet the practice most certainly was useful for both of them and Dana didn’t mind fencing with the smaller, younger and less-practiced fencer than herself the least bit.

[mandarb]

A girl standing in the rain barefoot and in a flimsy green dress that was already too tight around her hips and the slightly flowing skirt-part reaching barely her thighs. Even the neck-line was already a bit risqué already but at the same time the girl couldn’t afford a better dress. And a tangling grey stone that hung around her neck just above where the dress began. She had a bit tilted eyes and her face was turned upwards with her eyes closed so that you couldn’t see the colour nor the expression in them. Her arms were simply laying on her sides as she didn’t move the droplets of water that the sky cried rolling down the flesh making it shine as the rain washed away dirt and dust. She had pretty hair. Curly and falling down to her waist. Dark-brown. And an long ago dried bloom in her hair. A dead flower. It signified so much. But at the same time the woman didn’t radiate sadness. She was rather taking a break and resting as she drew new strength from the pouring rain. A woman who had lost much, who had lived through a lot of hurt. A woman who still had the courage to see a new beginning before her no matter what.
There were views that changed lives. Gorgeous or grotesque, heart-warming and terrifying. That was the deal with cold rain too. Everyone saw it. But did everyone bother to look in the rain?

Mandarb closed the window blocking the rain outside again as he turned away from the view to a small tool-shed and a backyard that had not been cared for during the last years. There was no woman, no dead rose, no green dresses. Just Mandarb’s imagination and the cold rain. Mandarb grabbed a shirt and slipped his hands through the short sleeves but didn’t stop to button the blouse up or pushing the hem of it into his worn jeans. His bare feet didn’t do any sound on the wooden floor as Mandarb pattered over to the door that led from Gareth’s private rooms to the fencing hall. Mandarb pushed the door open to the room quietly but stayed outside in the shadows where he could observe without being noticed. Taking in everyone in the room Mandarb grinned and stood silently once again drawing inspiration from the moving room and the graceful dance being rehearsed there. It was only after about four or five minutes when he finally moved and stepped into the hall half-closing the door behind himself.

Mandarb went and picked up the rapir Gareth reserved for him exchanging only one look with his grandfather. Unsheathing the sword Mandarb took only the thin blade along before he walked over to a practicing couple. For a few moment Mandarb simply observed quietly his eyes narrowed as he fully concentrated on the boy after a few moments. After a few moments and some simple attacks and just as simple blocks Mandarb stepped forward raising his hand to ask for a break in the fencing. He flicked his wrist the tip of his blade snapping against the boys wrist making the boy pull it closed to his body as the wrist tensed. Keeping his eyes on the boy Mandarb attacked again and the boy blocked his wrist still staying tensed from the previous snap. Mandarb curved his upper lip and nodded: “Keep your wrist tense like this.” Mandarb stepped back again and watched as the fencing improved the speed now noticeably quicker as the boy seemed to have gotten a hang of the trick. Mandarb also saw how heavily the boy was breathing so after two minutes he stepped between once more. Asthmatics had to take care. “Put your sword away and get a shower.” The boy smiled gratefully at Mandarb and slipped away with Mandarb following him with his eyes.

“Since when do you interfere with the way I teach, boy?” came Gareth’s voice and Mandarb arched his eye-brow at him: “Since when I could help him better.” Gareth stared at Mandarb for a little while before smiling and limping away. “You have practice to start, missie,” Gareth threw over his shoulder to Dana and Mandarb turned to face the girl smirking at her as Mandarb spread his arms leaving himself open for ay attack even with the sword still held in his right hand: “How will I help you, missie? Make you fence when there aren’t burning candles around?”

[dana]

Dana continued the dry practice with the younger boy when she suddenly felt someone’s eyes. Some people just had the aura that demanded attention from the moment they entered the room. Chancing a glance upwards Dana noticed Gareth’s grand-son entering the room who most likely did alert her nerves. Their first meeting had been far from calm. Dana glanced at Mandarb once again as he sauntered forward and stopped near the mat on which Dana was sparring with the boy. Tilting his head Dana glanced almost curiously at his bare feet before glancing at the unbuttoned shirt that seemed to be randomly thrown on after Mandarb rolled out of bed. And in all reality – with his hair a bit messed up he looked as if he had just a few moments ago awoken. Curious really. Dana blinked and glancing at the man now and then continued the sparring without any verbal acknowledgement of Mandarb.

A moment later when Mandarb stepped into the middle of the spar Dana still had to stop her movements. Dana winced and almost snapped something out at Mandarb when he hit the boys’ wrist but then at Mandarb’s words Dana stayed quiet. There was always a chance of getting hurt during practice. And as Mandarb stepped back and motioned for them to continue sparring Dana even managed to avoid sneering at him as the boys moves were a lot better now. Dana sparred for a about a minute or two longer before Mandarb stopped it again and told the boy to leave. Dana took deep and even breaths as she lowered her sword to her side and watched curiously the bicker between Mandarb and Gareth who were almost eerily similar. Dana could see traces of Gareth in Mandarb.

“Practice to start but a lazy teacher, old man,” Dana called after Gareth’s back as he limped away but Dana didn’t really have much of a chance to say much more. She didn’t really even get a chance for a tactically quick retreat because Mandarb’s words got her back up as Dana threw her head high and a bit backwards and sneered at him: “Miss Coran for you. And what you expect me to do when some jerk creeps up to me in a blind room that is supposed to be empty and attacks me with a sword.” Dana’s eyes fell onto the rapir Mandarb was once again holding. She remembered all too well how it felt to have the sword laying across her throat. Swallowing Dana took a reflective step back forcefully having to keep her left hand from touching her throat. “Why are you so afraid of candles? I thought they were supposed to create a romantic setting?” Dana mocked good-naturedly shifting her sword so that the blade was no before her knees. A position from where Dana could immediately raise the sword to block an attack. If she was supposed to fence with Mandarb she would fence with him, “It might be quite satisfying to watch someone blow up your romantic plans. As you seem to be my fencing partner – and tutor – I suppose you could call me Dana.” Dana stated calmly because even she had to admit that the man was still a lot better than she was in fencing.

[mandarb]

The girl had spunk. And no one had ever thrown her into deep water and told her to swim or sink as it seemed. She trusted herself a little bit too much for it. Or maybe it was pride. It might be either option. But the tilt of her head as she seemed to look down at Mandarb amused and angered Mandarb at the same time. Practically no one dared to look down at her. He was feared in the company he had started himself from scratch and for a good reason. Mandarb led the company to secure it’s success and he decided after what he thought was appropriate not always what was the most fair thing to do. Then there was this girl who didn’t seem to care of anything. Mandarb narrowed his eyes threateningly at Dana and only because of his full concentration did he notice her quick glance at his rapir before Dana almost tumbled back. So maybe the ice-princess wasn’t that icy. Mandarb felt some of his irritation pour out of himself as he recognized some fear in the girl. So she wasn’t that unknowing after all. “It’s bad police to call your teacher a jerk,” Mandarb commented lightly as he kept an eye on the sword Dana moved a little.

“Fire is the most dangerous of the 4 main elements. Destructive, hard to tame, reckless, foolish. Have you never looked around your school, missie? Everyone represents some element. Everyone represents the house they are in while at Hogwarts. What element are you? What house do you belong in?” Mandarb replied ignoring the girls question. He didn’t wish to speak of how he got the scars on his back. He didn’t want to share the terror of being stuck under a burning beam that fell from the ceiling. The terror of the thought of being burned alive was still too fresh in his memory even if the scars had had time to fade during three years and a little bit extra that had passed from the faithful day. Mandarb grinned and attacked his sword moving slowly and calmly as she attacked from the high front before making a random strike towards the left as a decoy before charging towards Dana’s right side. The move was swiftly blocked so Mandarb graced Dana with a contented smirk before moving on to a slightly more difficult fencing pattern.

Observing Dana curiously Mandarb started to think aloud while quickening the pace of the fencing abruptly. “You aren’t fire. While a fool to throw a candle you aren’t that reckless. Far from being the stoic and stumpy ground. Water? I’m not even sure. Maybe you would have the subtle strength to influence people with them never noticing it. And the strength to storm if you don’t get your way. I’m not entirely sure. Or air? Dancing, ever-changing, always shifting and never showing a clear picture? You don’t seem much to be hiding deep secrets like water does. Even though in your life you have most certainly use that skill. With famous grandparents you can’t help but to keep secrets.” The Daily Prophet had been full of articles about Meredith and Julien Graas. And their granddaughter and only heir had been mentioned more than once. Mandarb had to keep an eye on politics and where the money flowed for the sake of his company. Connecting the Coran name with Graas wasn’t that difficult. “Not a Slytherin. As one oyu would expect me to grovel before you much more. Not Gryffindor or you wouldn’t have stumbled back before the rapir. But you have fire and a stubborn backbone. Am I right to call you a Ravenclaw? I think I am.”

Mandarb attacked sharply twirling by Dana’s side to attack from there before turning again being on the other side of Dana now as he smirked and almost whispered: “Destroy my oromantic plans? That can almost be taken as an invitation to charm you, missie.”

[dana]

Dana gave a cool smile as if this was just some light chat with some random person at a fancy party where you had to be polite to everyone. “But you aren’t my teacher. You’re just someone who I’m forced to fence with today, as no one else seems to want to,” Dana replied with a nice smile that usually might have rather been used while giving a compliment. But that was the art of diplomacy, wasn’t it? You could send someone to the worst place he or she could possibly imagine and make her actually look forward to the trip. An admirable talent in all reality. At least one Dana admired. And one she tried to use when things got a bit tricky.
“Fire can be used for greater good just as easily. It can warm and cook sausages while you are having a bonfire?” Dana argued finding that she couldn’t really bring out any more good sides of fire. But it was rather the point of arguing that caused Dana to speak up, not anything else.

Dana blocked Mandarb’s attack and irritably pushed back a small strand of hair that was too short to reach her pony-tail. Tacking a moment to tuck it behind her ear so it wouldn’t fall into her face Dana followed along with the fencing-speed Mandarb used. Dana had to concentrate quite fully on the pattern to e able to block everything but she wasn’t given any time to throw in some attack of her own. And Mandarb could speak so easily as if this was just light practice. Dana growled mentally at the man but still tried to listen to his words as well. Dana was a bit flattered by his choice of words, she had to admit that. Maybe they weren’t overly positive – manipulation and influence could be used to do bad – but something in Dana whispered to her, that Mandarb had meant the words in a more positive aspect. And Dana appreciated it, even though she limited herself to merely nodding: “I’m a Ravenclaw. Was a close call, but I’m a Raven. And you? By the way you behave I’d rather guess you were a Slytherin once upon a time.”

Dana inhaled sharply at the mention of her grand-parents but didn’t respond. It was too painful topic. Luckily Mandarb glided over it quickly enough so she could just ignore the comment. “I’m not your missie, so don’t bother. I would just destroy everything even remotely romantic. Dana managed to avoid the attack as Mandarb changed their positions and Dana attacked sharply crossing the blades nad wanting to step closer so she could hiss something into Mandarb’s ear, but stumbled and loosing her footing fell onto the mats. Dana mumbled an oath as she rubbed her tail-bone and glanced upwards at Mandarb: “That move looks better in western movies. Or in whatever movies they had sword-fights.”

[mandarb]

Mandarb smirked as Dana smiled at her as if welcoming a long-lost friend. It was just as cheery while the words were cuttingly sharp. He found it oddly amusing and even cute in a way. Even if he knew better than to share his thoughts out loud. Women as a general rule could be harmful and even more so than men sometimes. But furious women with sharp swords equaled disasters. And Mandarb was far from wishing to have one of such disasterous harpies attacking him. “And from bonfires forest fires are born. A word of advice: use an oven to cook your sausages.”
Mandarb nodded his head briefly when he heard he was right. A close call? That could mean a lot of things, but the outcome was Ravenclaw, so it didn’t matter. Mandarb was glad to see that he could still evaluate characters correctly with only a little bit to go from.

“Didn’t go to Hogwarts really,” Mandarb said with a shrug, “But being raised practically next to it, I do know the houses-system. Went to Durmstrang myself. Flunked out in the middle of my fourth year. But Slytherin is as close to Durmstrang as you can get in Hogwarts. Good, good, smart girl.” Mandarb didn’t comment more. He had chosen to drop out of school himself. He hadn’t fit in with the crowd there for the big part even though he had had plenty of brains to ace the classes he was interested in. But it had been a correct choice for him. Mandarb had went into business. He hadn’t had much money to begin with but he had had arrogance, character and he had been willing to work. And luck. Can’t forget luck. Mandarb had caught a curious eye and now here he was seven years later with owning his own companies and leading them successfully. Mandarb didn’t get on numbers or stock. He bet on people, business-partners, weaknesses. And he won, because he was cold and cynical and wasn’t afraid of admitting all the mistakes the human race had.

Mandarb grinned at the girl’s words but didn’t comment. It all depended on what you thought was romantic. Some girls could be easily bought but this one was too rich for that herself. Mandarb didn’t know even what tactic he would use with her. The next moment things had changed. Mandarb might have been staring rather sheepishly but he seriously didn’t understand what kind of a move the girl was trying to do before she commented about western movies. “You wanted to pull me closer and say something over crossed blades?” Mandarb slowly stated as things started to clear. Reaching out his left hand Mandarb stepped closer and offered his hand to help Dana get back onto his feet, “That move is more for show than real use. Because in order to pull it through you must grab hold of my wrist so that I support you partially and which real opponent would be kind enough to let you do that?”

[dana]

Dana hated cooking. Sure, there was no way for Mandarb could know this little detail. But it was the principle! Dana didn’t like cooking so who wanted to eat could prepare their own sausages in the oven! “Cook yourself,” Dana snapped with perhaps more irritation than the situation required, but the words flew out of her mouth even before she could rethink. Oh well, nothing to be done about it anymore anyway. At least the words couldn’t cause much trouble. Dana swallowed the other comment circling her head about who could give her advise and who not. But decided better of it. Why should she let Mandarb get to her?

Dana’s eye-brows arched. He had dropped out of school? Dana eyed Mandarb with a little bit of hesitation for a moment almost letting through an attack because of it. He didn’t seem stupid. Far from it rather. So why did he ‘flunk out’ as he had put it? Laziness? Or the lack of ability to manage school-work? Some people were smart, but couldn’t concentrate and handle school. Dana met Mandarb’s eyes searchingly noticing almost absent-mindedly that the arch of his eye-brows made his eyes seem almost evil. Actually Mandarb had a strong karma or whatever you preferred to say it. It wasn’t necessarily evil. At some people you felt as if they had an angry beast ready to attack you on a leash next to them. Mandarb had a wild beast walking next to him without any chain. While Mandarb wasn’t overly muscular, Dana still knew that she wouldn’t want to meet him in some dark alley. He still gave a dangerous enough sense for that. But Dana still couldn’t help her curiousity. Mandarb wouldn’t attack her in the middle of the fencing hall. Right? “Why did you drop out?”

Dana scowled to Mandarb as he stared at her dumbly while she was sitting down. Dana was almost ready to reach out and kick his knee, when he seemed to come back to his sense. “Yes, that’s the move,” Dana muttered in reply sourly eyeing Mandarb doubtfully for a moment. But she might as well give him a chance. Dana took her sword into her left hand and accepted Mandarb’s hand as she started to climb back onto her feet. “I still prefer to believe in gentlemen that would be nice enough to offer me a hand. Even if you haven’t obviously heard much of manners.”

[mandarb]

Mandarb smirked at the girls snappy response. Cook himself? He must have touched a nerve there. Or maybe she just didn’t know how to cook. That was likely as how many rich kids could take care of themselves? Not many. It was much easier to let others constantly cater for your every need while you never moved a flower. “I’m not overly hungry. And I don’t like cooking. I have a house-elf to do that,” Mandarb replied calmly. He didn’t like cooking. He hated all house-hold works actually. But as he lived alone Mandarb was forced to cook sometimes. He couldn’t order food home daily and there was only that many frozen meals a man could eat in a row.

Mandarb looked at the Dana who was gazing at him with a mixture of curiousity and fear. He could understand the mixture. With his disheveled hair, dark skin and black eyes and dropping out of school all piling up on it he might just be the “bad-boy image” come to life to a good girl. And despite curious bursts of sanity Dana seemed like a good girl deep inside. “Didn’t see a reason to stay in school,” Mandarb replied with a small shrug. Taking hold of his sword a bit differently Mandarb concentrated for a moment. Using the trick taught at first year in Durmstrang Mandarb still managed to do the routine perfectly with sparks flying out every time he hit touched the tip of his sword to the floor. Smirking lazily Mandarb raised his sword to his eyes to make sure there was no scratch on the polished steel.

Mandarb pulled Dana to her feet easily but didn’t let go of her arm. For a moment Mandarb merely looked at her from between lowered eye-brows. “I’m rich enough to afford lack of manners now. You however, missie, have to learn that not all men are for you push and pull as you wish.” With a sharp move Mandarb pulled Dana closer and bent his head to kiss her. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. Far from it actually. It was hungry, devouring, dominant. Not a sweet kiss most teenage girls dreamt off but it got Mandarb’s point through. Turning on spot Mandarb pattered away his bare feet not making a sound on the floor of the now quiet fencing hall as he slipped through the dark door he had came from just as quietly as he had came.