The Joy of the Hunt

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Warning: There is no explicit sex in this chapter. There is, however, plenty of talk and character development.

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AN:

Welcome back to TJoTH, my lovelies!

After the downright pornographic previous chapter we will now take a small break in LO's training to instead delve into her, and Adrian's, personality and psyche.

This is a short chapter, only just short of 4000 words. It needed to end where it does, so please don't flame me for that. I DID give you over 12.000 in the last chapter, after all :)

I hope you enjoy this foray into fleshing out the characters. It contains one of my favourite quotes of the whole story. Can you spot it?

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She wakes up slowly, stretching languidly between the caressing sheets. At first she is unaware of where she is or how she got here, and then the events of last night come crashing down on her consciousness like an avalanche. Her eyelids fly open and she whips her head from side to side, trying to find the danger. When no direct threat materializes her heartbeat slows somewhat; the awareness of her squeaky clean bare body in-between crisp, fragrant sheets instead beginning to instill a sense of comfort to her mind.

Yesterday begins to feel like a dream. A nightmare? A dream or a nightmare? A dream AND a nightmare? Oh, she just doesn't know.

What she *does* know is that this is the most comfortable bed she has ever been in, that her body feels sated, clean and pure and that the sound of the piano drifting into her boudoir comforts her worried soul. She knows one more thing for sure -- whether last night was a dream, a nightmare or stark reality, it ended on a note where she had done well and was cared for. She has nothing to be afraid of right now, nothing to fret over. Her body and her mind relax. There is much to think on, and many uncomfortable questions to both ask and find the answer to, but the time for that is not now. She really deserves a break, she thinks.

She simply decides to pretend to be Beauty, with a Beast that is currently in human form, so that she may enjoy it. Come to think of it, that may not be far from the truth.

Slowly twisting her body she manages to sit up on the side of the bed, carefully scanning the room with her blanket wrapped around her bare shoulders. There on the nightstand next to the bed are a few items of clothing, neatly folded. They seem to be the source of the lavender scent she realizes, as she notices small bags of cloth stuffed in-between every fold. Her assumption is confirmed when she reaches out to touch one of the little bags and a fresh waft of lavender fills her nostrils.

She stands up, barefoot on the plush, thick carpet; her toes dig into the soft fibers and make her feel like she is walking on air, or at least on fluffy clouds. Carefully unfolding the items left for her she finds that they consist of a pair of white lace boy shorts, a beautiful dove grey silk and cotton chemise and a rather revealing but tasteful and warming full length robe, made from the sheerest grey cotton and adorned with pink silk trimmings. So, not really clothes for a hike in the woods, or any outdoor activity for that matter, but a very stylish version of what one would wear on a long leisurely Sunday spent lounging indoors.

Should "One" be an eighteenth-century courtesan, that is. Ah well.

The garments are still a great improvement as compared to the skimpy things he had her wear last night, she muses. Beautiful as they were, they still made her feel more naked than dressed. It comes as no surprise to her as she slips into the new garments that they fit her perfectly, hugging her in all the right places while staying exceedingly comfortable. Catching a glance of herself in the full sized mirror covering the bathroom door she can see that besides being comfortable the clothes flatter her, they make her look enticing but not slutty. Quite in line with her previous musings, she realizes that she is dressed like a lady of a century long past taking her rest within the confinements of her own home.

She slips her feet into the matching 3 inch mules. Dove grey and adorned with pink ostrich feathers they make her feel like she is playing a part in a Marilyn Monroe movie. "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", she chuckles under her breath as her reflection reveals that she looks exactly like she feels; her sleepy strawberry blonde hair floating like an unruly cloud around her head. She smiles to herself at Adrian's perfect compromise between the revealing things he likes to see her in and clothing that will make her feel comfortable, albeit like an actress.

With that thought she steps into the bathroom and splashes her face with cold water to get the last vestiges off of her features. Then she opens the packaging around a new tooth brush supplied for her, she assumes, to clean her teeth and refresh her sleepy breath. Perhaps even vampires do not appreciate morning breath? She notices a few basic make-up items placed above the faucet and hardly hesitates at all before adding a layer of mascara to her long lashes and nude gloss to her lips. The movie star outfit she is in along with her previous decision to pretend to be Beauty for a day would have it no other way.

Is she making herself pretty for her captor? She quickly squashes the thought. After a few strokes of the thick brush provided her strawberry curls settle from mad bed hair into a more lady-like coiffure.

Finally she feels ready to face *Him*. She assumes it will only be Him. Her memory of last night distinctly tells her that his brother bid her farewell before he left, in a way that indicated something less temporary than just for the remainder of the evening. For whatever reason, her recollections of the latter part of the evening are somewhat hazy, but the departure of his brother is crystal clear in her mind.

She does not know whether to be happy or sad about this. His brother (Kai, was it not?) touched her in places previously unknown to her, and not only in a physical sense. For sure; the two brothers introduced her to a whole new realm of physical experiences last night, she blushes when she thinks of it and her reactions to it. But still, when she thinks of Kai what she remembers the most is how soft his eyes turned when he looked at her right before he left, and how "Kitten", the pet name he gave her, sounded like a caress on his tongue.

No, she will not allow herself to dwell on this right now. Pleasant as the thoughts are, they are also very disturbing. A large part of her personality is objecting fiercely to her warm fuzzy feelings towards a man whose first contact with her was to dominate her completely, cane her, tie her down and possess her every humanly possible way. Her feelings towards Adrian were easier to handle. He snuck under her skin slowly, increasing his domination day by day until the day before yesterday when he pushed her to the point of complete submission.

She knows he cares for her, feels true affection and to some degree even pride for her, but his voice never takes on the tinge of warm care Kai's did when he departed, his eyes never feel like they are caressing her gently as they scan her naked flesh. No, she cannot think about this right now. She does not belong to Kai. She belongs to Adrian, her Master. A small, buried part of her is still screaming that she belongs to no man, only to herself, but she is becoming more proficient at ignoring that voice as time goes by.

She is walking towards the bedroom door as this thought strikes her, and she freezes in the middle of taking a step. The thought had come unbidden, without forceful prodding. Is this how she really feels? Does she belong to him? It goes against anything she has ever learned, everything she has believed to be true about her personality.

Inside her brain the ignored voice bucks and fights the thought like a wild horse fighting its first saddle, while another part takes comfort in the safety and belonging of it all, tired of the pain and strife. At the moment she is still unsure of which part that will win out in the end, they are both alive and kicking. Shaking her head to clear her mind, unwilling to release her feeling of comfort at least for the moment, she drowns the whinnies of the wild horse, opens the door and carefully steps out into the hallway, following the sound of the beautiful piano music that will lead her to her Master.

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Adrian is lost in the music. His fingers caress the keys of ivory and ebony gently as he coaxes intoxicating sounds from the bowels of the beautiful instrument, much like his caress of a woman will coax the most beautiful melody from her. He has loved these key instruments since they first came into existence, in all of their incarnations. First the spinet, thin and fragile sounding, then the cembalo, the instrument his friend Wolfgang had used to compose most of his music. He had briefly enjoyed the clavichord, but once a Florentian cembalo-maker had finally improved on the design and created the world's first pianoforte in the early 1700's, Adrian knew that he had found the ultimate instrument.

He currently found himself dwelling completely inside the music streaming from his Steinway Baby Grand. Having opted for one of Wolfgang's later pieces that he so enjoyed, his reverie was interrupted (though not unpleasantly so) by the gentle arrival of his Little One. She did not try to interrupt him, instead she merely walked up to the piano and leaned her elbows on top of it, closing her eyes and clearly enjoying the sad and longing timbre of the music. Once the final note reaches its vibrating conclusion she sighs deeply and opens her eyes; looking straight at him while part of her soul is clearly still lost in the music.

"I have always enjoyed Mozart so much, and this piece in particular is so hauntingly beautiful. He was dying when he wrote it, was he not?" Adrian felt his eyebrows rise to meet his hairline in surprise at her comment. His Little One has a taste and interest in the fine arts, hmm?

"Yes, he was." He responds "But unlike his final piece for orchestra, he managed to finish the last piano concerto. I remember I had to practically force my blood into him so that he would stay lucid enough to finish it; it would have been a shame to leave this piece undone. I wasn't in town when he caught the final flu though -- I have always regretted not to be able to save Requiem."

"YOU are the reason Concerto 27 is complete?" She could not hide her shock. "You KNEW Mozart?"

He nods.

"Of course I did. Wolfgang was a good friend of mine, a true genius. He was the main reason I stayed in Vienna for the last half of the 18th century. Wonderfully skilled but incredibly troubled, Wolfgang was." He sighs at the memory.

"I even offered to turn him, once it was clear his health would not allow him to live a full life, but he refused. He said to me;

Adrian, great art is born from great pain, and there is no greater pain than our mortality.

"

He sighs deeply at the memory. Losing people you care about truly does not become easier with time.

"He did concede for me to heal him with my blood when the pain got too bad though."

"How did you meet? I envy you so, to have known him, spoken to him!" She is clearly thrilled, delighted, and roses rise on her cheeks. He chuckles to himself as he closes his eyes and remembers

"I fancied myself quite skilled with both cembalo and pianoforte, quite proud of it too, until the day I sat in the Austrian court and experienced a five year old perform a full piano concerto, composed by his own hand and brilliant enough to steal the breath from every soul in the room. It was a humbling experience, let me tell you." He chuckles at the memory, being humbled was not an everyday occurrence for him.

"I made a point of following the boy and his progress ever after that. Eventually he grew up and got married, but he was constantly ill of health. He was always destined to be one of those candles, those that burn so bright that they snuff out too soon." He sighs deeply at the memory of his friend, whose bones since almost 250 years rest in an unmarked mass grave but whose work continues to allure and inspire musicians and music lovers around the world.

After a pregnant pause he continues in a near-whisper.

"Truly, sometimes I wonder... Out of Wolfgang and I, which is the true immortal."

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After a brief pause to consider his profound statement, her curiosity prompts her to continue her questioning.

"Who else did you meet, how did they affect you? And, when applicable, how did you affect them?"

She settles comfortably into the large leather couch, sincerely interested and this simple question leads to several hours of talking, Adrian reminiscing about his meetings with Saliero, Beethoven, Bach, Brahms, Verdi, Wagner, Puccini and many, many more of the great composers.

He is not simply telling her of his memories. Instead the story surrounding each name is accompanied with a discussion about the man and his works, debating the finer points and what could have been improved upon. The girl has very clear views and is able to argue them well, at times she brings perspectives into the discussion that are completely novel to him. This truly does not happen often and Adrian finds that he enjoys himself immensely.

Around lunch time he heats a pre-made meal for her and fills a cup of blood for himself. He then returns to the couch where their conversation continues all through the afternoon. Topics swings from music to great writers, both of prose and of poetry. His Little One is turning out to be very well read and a delight to argue the finer points of literature with. He especially takes pleasure in their foray into modern psychology, discussing the works of Freud and Jung, dissecting their theories and finding a middle ground.

The work of the Russian behaviourist Pavlov takes up the better part of an hour. Can he really be considered to be the father of cognitive therapy after his discovery, and proving, of the existence of the "conditioned reflex"? Well, the nobel prize committee seemed to think so, but were they right? During this part of their discussion Adrian finds that he has to fight to keep a completely straight face as he studies her carefully; looking for signs of her realizing just how close to home this topic hits. He has been working on conditioning her reflexes for over a week, after all.

If the epiphany strikes her, she is careful not to let it show. Adrian doesn't even notice how much he has tensed up until he relaxes when the discussion moves on to other, safer grounds.

No, there certainly is not a lack of topics during their conversation. Adrian finds himself increasingly enamored with his little find. He released her from submitting to him verbally early on in the discussion, instead opting to hold a very interesting and high flying conversation between equals about incredibly interesting and diverse subjects where they are sometimes on the same side and sometimes fervently opposed. Who would have thought this little creature had it in her to fill his needs on SO many levels? He smiles fondly at her.

"You truly are a treasure, Little One" he says, during a short lull in the conversation, leaning over to kiss her hair. "I count myself lucky to have found you."

Moving closer to her, he wraps his arm around her small body. She snuggles into his chest like the little doll he thinks of her as, languidly like the kitten Kai likens her to. Gently embracing her and stroking her hair he places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose and wraps his arms tighter around her. She is such a tiny creature, sometimes he cannot help but feel protective of her. Her small stature combined with her luscious curves makes her look like a perfect miniature of a woman, perhaps 80% of life size; it was one of the things that had interested him about her when he first encountered her. Even at that very first moment the unbidden thought of whether or not a miniature woman is miniature in all aspects of her physiology entered his mind.

She has been in his care for more than a week now, closer to ten days, and he is on his third day after finally exploring and finding the answer to his original question. So now he knows, she may be miniature but she is all woman. Yes, she may be miniature in all aspects, but yet she is able expand further when exhilarated than most women he has encountered in his long life. Her exterior is very appealing, in fact downright arousing. Thankfully she has turned out to be a natural when it comes to submitting to his, and his youngest brother's, needs and wants.

On top of this already near perfect picture for a distraction, she has turned out to be well read and cultured, an interesting conversation partner. The final piece of the puzzle, only gleaned today, raised her rank inside his old fashioned mind from stress reliever to companion. A woman of her caliber would not be an embarrassment on his arm at the various business, social and cultural functions he still had to attend, rather the diametric opposite. Beauty, charm, brains and class -- this is a very rare combination in both genders. He did not exaggerate in his compliment to her; he does count himself lucky to have found her.

For just one second he feels a pang of guilt. It had not avoided his notice that a very special chemistry came to play between his Little One and his baby brother. Kai tried his best to hide it, in some instances even becoming more brutal and dominant than he was normally wont to be (and that is really saying something, when it comes to Kai...), yet behind the mask surprising and unexpected feelings emerged. It was clearly entirely subconscious, much like his own flabbergasted reaction when he had unexpectedly found himself in the presence of Her just over a year ago. It took him several weeks before he could start to sort out the feelings and thoughts that had rushed through his mind at the time.

Yesterday's final moments in particular were when Kai's mask slipped. For a moment it seemed like the two of them were alone in the room, perhaps even alone in the world. The moment when his brother had gently corrected the newly broken girl to use his name instead of "Master", a girl who had recently received harsh punishment for doing just that and thus slipping on the proper form of address; that moment said it all.

So yes, Adrian feels a pang of guilt. After thinking things through last night and this morning he has come to the conclusion that he will give his Little One to Kai, allowing them to develop whatever was there without his brother needing to ask for her. He is sure Kai is even now trying to figure out an acceptable way of bringing the subject up, he knows he would have done the same had the situation been reversed. But, then today happened. The girl grew so much in his esteem today that he is suddenly loath to give her up so soon. How often does one come across the perfect companion material after all? Lover, submissive, sexual relief -- those were a dime a dozen, but a true, refined concubine? Very rare indeed, especially in this day and age.

Thus the feeling of guilt, as he now knows he will not hand her over to his baby brother anytime soon; no matter what connection had formed between them. He stills his troubled conscience by deciding to offer Kai a more permanent part of their life than the offer of co-training initially entailed. Although she is his, and will receive further training not only in submission but in the ways of the old world to prepare her for the many public tasks ahead, whenever he does not have a direct need of her, socially or physically, he will leave her in Kai's hands.

Yes, this was an acceptable compromise. Perhaps not a very 21st century compromise, but then again, neither he nor his brother were from the 21st century. The thought makes him smile to himself.