A History

{This piece of fiction is basically about a number of characters I have been developing for a long time. The story here is the history of such characters, and how they have developed into who they will become. (: }

'Life is good.
But not good enough.'

The vast mansion was bustling with life, servants running up and down the hallways, perparing food, decorating everything. Outside the gardens were being perfected, other servants waiting for the guests to arrive. Some were in the main attraction of the evening; the grand ballroom. It shone from the entire day of cleaning, many tables laden with food and countless spotless glasses, all gleaming under the candlelight. The well lit room dazzled under the glow of the crystal chandelier, slowly being hoisted into position in the center of the ceiling, illuminating the place in a fairly romantic manner. All around the room the servants were busy, all being watched by one figure who was observing everything.

The tall man's powerful appearance was not easily missed; his tall, well-built figure was swathed in black and white. He seemed to give off a dangerous aura, one which commanded respect and obedience from all around him. His white-gloved hands contrasted sharply with his black pants, shoes and coat. The white shirt was immaculate, with its tie perfect and just as spotless as everything else in the room. Taking a step forward, his expensive shoes clicked eerily on the polished marble floors, echoing about the place, causing a strange silence to befall the entire room.

Every servant turned, ceasing whatever they were doing and quieting the soft mumble of chatter that had been quietly buzzing around the room. Most of them seemed almost fearful as they stood almost to attention, waiting hesitantly for their master's approval.

The authoratative male ran a hand through his carefully perfected black hair, cut short and neat so that there was no need for a hair to be out of place. His cold, hazel eyes lacked any kind of warmth as he surveyed every aspect of his ballroom. He took a couple more steps and then halted, glancing about with his hands held behind his back.  Whilst his dark eyes continued to examine his servants and their work, he eventually gave a nod, which signalled his approval. The tense mood in the room did not lessen, though; the man's stony expression didn't change as he turned, ordering them all to get on with their work again.

Assured that they wouldn't slip up, he headed out of the room, sparing a glance out of one of the tall windows, seeing the dark blanket of a night sky and the softly glowing moon in the distance. A perfect night for a ball. Whilst smirking to himself, he was halted in his thoughts by a small voice before him.

'L-Lord D'Artagnan?'

The Lord's cold eyes went to the servant infront of him, a maid in a well-styled but very formal-looking dress-uniform. She held both her hands before her, resisting the urge to play with the hem of her apron, her blue eyes blinking up at the tall man before her.

'What is it?' he answered impatiently, though his eyes seemed to wander over the female briefly. She started at his short questioning and responded. 'U-um...the first of your guests have just arrived outside,' she squeaked meekly, bowing her head in an instant to that a few strands of chocolate-coloured hair fell from from the bow that was holding it behind her ears.

Rolling his eyes, the Lord straightened himself and waved a hand to make the girl do the same. 'Make sure they're greeted on their entrance and that they're guided here,' he instructed, gesturing to the room behind him, 'and have someone take their coats. Make sure they're greeted hospitably.'

Not needing to be told twice, she bowed her head and scurried off, leaving the master of the house standing alone once more. As he stood where he was, examining the clear hallways he once more folded his hands behind his back. He stood at the entrance to the ballroom now, awaiting his guests, but also the other people who should have been attending.

'Kaine,' breathed a gentle voice from the stairscase behind the Lord. He looked up and offered a smile that still held the same cold emotion as always.

'Elenna, dear,' he spoke briefly, holding out a hand to her as she descended the stairs. 'You look lovely,' he commented, earning a warm smile from his wife, who blushed a little beneath the rouge on her cheeks, bowing her head a little.

'And you look handsome as always,' she replied, pressing her red lips to his cheek but being careful to leave no traces of her make-up behind, looking up at her tall husband as she stood by his side. Her crystal blue eyes looked around, admiring the maginificent job the servants had done in decorating the manor.

Slipping a possessive arm easily about the slim waist of Elenna, Kaine glanced expectantly at the staircase again.

'And where are the children?' he asked, his smile fading to look accusingly at his wife. But before she could answer, his question seemed to have been answered.

'We're not children anymore, father. Well, I'm not.'

The confident male's voice carried with ease to his parents, as the male himself smirked in an arrogant manner. He stood at about the same height as his father, with a kind of cocky demeanor about him. His young face was even more handsome than that of Kaine, and it appeared that he was well aware of it. In an expensive looking suit of an ash-like grey, his slim figure was clothed perfectly, in the outfit which only seemed to accentuate his height. His silvery hair was very carefully styled, the choppy strands pushed back so as not to obscure his face, stopping at the nape of his neck, very similarly to his father. His arms were folded across his chest, his stance suggesting authority, an attempt at challenging his father, who only smirked back at his eldest son.

'Samir,' he nodded shortly as he moved to join his mother and father. Samir's blue eyes - equal to those of Elenna - glanced over his shoulder, to where trailed behind him a short male who barely appeared to fit in with the rest of them at all.

Whereas Samir resembled his father in terms of demeanor, height and personality, it was the younger son who had received some of the prominent asthetic traits.

'I'm not a child, either,' he mumbled, though it seemed more to himself, as only Elenna was really focusing on him. She beamed at both of her sons, reaching out to brush a few almost invisible specks of dust from the youngest male's shoulders.

'Adrian, you look perfect,' she assured him as she noticed him eyeing the rest of them warily. Adrian didn't seem to be convinced, however, already playing with the sleeves of his white shirt, that poked out from the cuffs of the black jacket, wearing an outfit almost identical to Kaine's. Though while he head received his parent's hazel eyes and black hair, they were very different. Adrian's nervous appearance gave him a much softer expression, appearing a great deal younger than his actual seventeen years. His eyes were warm, holding a fondness as he looked to his mother. He ran a hand through his just-past-shoulders length, scruffy black hair out of nervous habit when his gaze drifted momentarily to Samir and Kaine. He stood a little closer to his mother, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose as though it would perfect his appearance, though he really did look a lot less impressive than the rest of them.

Though after a moment, Adrian was forced to stand at one door, beside Samir, who regarded him with a look of near disgust on his face. The twenty-four year old looked worlds apart from his younger sibling, who shifted nervously on the spot.

Shaking his head, the Lord himself stood at the other door, his arm once again around Elenna, who smiled pleasantly as the guests began to drift through the open doors and into the spectacular ballroom. The well-trained servants already waited, ready to take coats, greet the guests and pass out the glasses, now filled with the crimson red wine and other such indulgent drinks.

As the last of the guests headed into the room, the sound of harmonious music played sidelong to the chatter that descended. It seemed that they were all in their element, the richest members of society all mingling together in that room, discussing their riches and their lives, what they had accomplished that year, how much money they had, and just about anything else they had to show off about. It was more like a competition to see who was more well-off. Though in the D'Artagnan household, the D'Artagnans themselves were the clear winners.

The ballroom was only a tiny reflection of just how much money they had to their name. They held great authority, only beaten in that element by the King and Queen of the country. Though the rich heirtage, wealth and power of the family earned them a great position of status, and a very good life indeed. The manor itself was immense, lavishly decorated and full of all kinds of reflections of the family's heritage, as well as of its current inhabitant's lives. The Lord Kaine D'Artagnan himself was an illustrious but stern man, as was obvious with one glance, and his eldest son, Samir, followed in his every footstep. He was almost identical to him, and held great respect for the man. His wife, Elenna, was everything a man of power wanted; obedient and beautiful. Her graceful smile followed her everywhere, to the extent that many people seemed to doubt just how genuine she made it seem. She held it even now with her graceful poise, standing still at her husband's side as they conversed with a few men, business partners of the family.

Whilst Samir almost owned the place, an easy confidence in his every movement whilst he danced with several of the young females lining up to get a chance to so much as share a word with him, his brother was his opposite in every way. Adrian stood meekly off to one side, not so much as a drink in his hand. He looked very much as if he wished for the ground to just swallow him, so that he might not endure this ritual social humiliation any longer. He didn't fit in at all. He was awkward and nervous, and was more to be classed as 'cute' than 'handsome'. Whilst every other member of the family seemed to be so at ease and at home in these surroundings, all Adrian could do was stand and watch as his older brother made an example of himself. Samir was everything that the youngest D'Artagnan wished he could be, proud, confident and exceedingly handsome.

Sticking to the sidelines and watching as the females danced by expertly with always a handsome man holding her close, Adrian sighed and looked down at his tailored shoes, pushing up his glasses again. He really would have been so much happier in his room, reading or continuing with his studies. Anywhere but here.

On the other side of the room, Samir was conversing with a very well dressed young woman, though she seemed every bit the obsessive young lady sort, batting her eyelashes sickeningly at him as though to keep his attention, focusing her cloudy blue-grey eyes on Samir and giggling at every compliment that was thrown her way. She tossed her hair as she followed the male's steps, drawing more attention to herself, as though knowing she had to do her best to keep it. Samir was a very highly adored man, mostly due to the confidence that radiated from him, and the constant rumours of his more generous nature. Though of course, very few people knew the real Samir.

As he smiled at the pretty brunette in his arms, as their dance ended and he bowed, the smile faded for a few moments into one of distaste. He grew weary of the attention-seeking, needy little girls that his father invited. It grew tiring to have the same thing all the time. Though he never tired of the attention that he received in turn. He just loved the idea that all the women had their eyes on him, he lived off it. When he straightened up and watched the female patter off to rejoin the group of girls that awaited her, all giggling excitedly amongst themselves, he shook his head.

Deftly catching a glass from the tray of a passing servant, he raised it to his pale lips, drinking a little of the liquid and then moving to stand off to one side, leaning against the wall and observing what was going on around him. He noted his parents, now partaking in a dance together elegantly across the ballroom with practiced steps, showing the younger couples just how it was done. Samir took note of his father's every commanding move, the trained gaze that locked onto the eyes of his mother. He smirked to himself and his eyes wandered agian, examining his brother where he stood alone, not touching the drink, not being asked to dance by anyone, not asking anyone himself. A sad excuse for a D'Artagnan, Samir always said of him. Adrian was their mother's favourite, but the bane of his father's existence. The second son he had wanted, but certainly not what he had expected.

Running a hand through his hair once more, Samir took in the all too familiar sight of the ballroom, the guests, decorations...even the music was beginning to sound familiar. The cold blue eyes of the male then turned to the open doors. It was a cold winter evening, a few flakes of snow slowly beginning to fall outside, not yet settling, not yet covering the impeccably kept gardens. Deciding that some air was what he needed, he stepped outside, leaving the glass of wine behind on a table he passed. Ignoring the snow that settled in his silvery hair, he produced a long, foreign cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it. A bad habit, perhaps, but Samir cared little for the scoldings of his mother. It was something that seemed to make him even more desireable to a few of the women, apparently. His lack of concern for all of the preachings that were thrown at him was almost driving the poor Elenna to despair, but he was exactly the son that Kaine had wanted; there was no arguing with that.

As he stood, cigarette balanced casually in his gloved fingertips, the D'Artagnan closed his eyes, his mind wandering. This was all fine and good, all this wealth, his popularity, his social status and the attention he so often received, but things had to change. The routine was boring, something interesting just had to happen. Something at least had to happen to rid him of the small nuisances in his life, then everything would be just perfect...

And he knew just how to accomplish that.