Open Chronicles A Diplomatic Ball

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynn sighed softly, knowing Reynard was right. With everyone's eyes on them, they had to keep up appearances. Which was a shame, because Reynard was a surprisingly good dancer and Gwynn found herself forgetting the rules as she spun with him in time to the music.

Gwynn laughed a little and shook her head. "I suggested climbing as a way to loosen up, not to stress you out even more," she replied. "If you go climbing, I'll just fly with Gavne and cheer you on," she continued. She remembered how not too long ago, Reynard had tamed his own eagle, Yvan, who was really quite ornery most of the time. "I'll even get Yvan to encourage you," she added.

Too soon, the song ended. Dancers stilled and clapped politely as some walked off the dance floor, making room for new couples. Gwynn reluctantly dropped her hand from Reyanrd's shoulder, leaving her hand in his long enough to walk off the dance floor. Gwynn took a long, deep breath before finally releasing Reynard's hand. "Now for the pleasantries and politics," she said, giving Reynard an exaggerated pained smile before walking into the crowd.

Reynard De Eramant

 

[Faramund]

Smiling to himself, Syr Faramund watched as the Captains took to the dancefloor. Now that introductions had been made and the speech was over and done with, he was free to do as he pleased, to a degree. The first item of business, as ever, was finding something to drink. Preferably something alcoholic but he wasn't fussy.

Like a bloodhound following its nose, he made his way over to the long tables. Bedecked with foodstuffs and liquid sustenance, the knight contented himself with a goblet of wine. Something feathery brushed his arm, and the knight gave way to an Avariel as they made to fill their plate. 'Apologies,' the dawnling bowed, slipping away before he could be locked into a conversation with someone he didn't know... and didn't want to.

Making his way through the crowd, the knight offered greetings and gratitude to the people that acknowledged him. Sky Elves for the most part, though there were a few practically-dressed Northerners to be accounted for, too. One, blonder than the rest -and far more pretty- looked to be royalty.

In other words, trouble.

Avoiding her like the plague, Fara looked around for some familiar faces to talk to. Alas, with the Captains busy and the others occupied by diplomacy, there was no safe harbour for the dawnling to seek shelter in. Shit. Sipping his wine, Fara made his way back towards the entrance. Elves and diplomats accosted him along the way, but like any true professional, he managed to slip away before the endless questions bogged him down.

His goblet spent, he stopped a passing waiter just long enough to retrieve two more. 'Busy night?' the elf asked, a small smile plucking at his lips.

'Very,' Fara replied, taking a swig.

With a knowing look and a nod, the waiter carried on. 'Drink, ma'am?' Fara heard him ask as he wandered off, back to the landing platform. To where Norvyk and the Sky Carriage would wait until morning- or late afternoon, if the night got a bit crazy.

Taking in the view from the platform, Faramund let all his worries and frustrations ebb away as he cast his eyes up to the sky. Despite the ball being well and truly underway, the dawnling could still make out eagles where they circled and dived across the purple bruise of night. A speck of silvery light amongst the stars told him they had riders. Perhaps the Sky Elves were enjoying the freedom they had made for themselves over the years.

Or patrolling. Maybe that.

Walking back, Fara stopped midstride as he noticed Norvyk off to his left. Petra stood with him. Beautiful in a flowing dress of green, she was one person Faramund hadn't paid enough attention to this evening. More fool I. Strolling over, he cleared his throat, offered a goblet to Petra. 'Thought you could use this,' he said, speaking as if this chance meeting was all a part of the plan.

Norvyk's reptilian eyes met Fara's, and the knight knew the jig was up.

'All right, then... I think you could use this,' he corrected himself, sticking his tongue out at the dragon. Turning to Petra, Faramund smiled apologetically. 'You okay?' he asked, extending the wine. 'Not like you to miss a party. Thought you'd be carving up the dancefloor by now.'

Petra Darthinian

 

[Petra Darthinian]

With one hand resting casually against the horned crown of Norvyk's head, and ignoring the baleful look he leveled at Faramund, Petra bashfully accepted the offered crystal glass, their fingers brushing slightly in the transfer, and the warmth of his hand distracting her for long enough that the silence after his comments bordered on awkward.

A deep blush colored the tan of her cheeks as she tried laughing through her embarrassment. She had a hard time meeting Faramund's gaze while she tried to recover with any modicum of grace, "Mmm, yes, uh, thank you... I-I should have grabbed one myself before I came out this way to clear my head." She motioned casually to her temple. "Ever since I've become a dragon rider, the nature of my... magic... has intensified. And it makes crowds a bit overwhelming if I'm not prepared." She turned a loving eye to her dragon. "Thankfully, Norvyk has the mental fortitude for us both to keep it from deafening me on most days." Feeling more herself, she looked back at Faramund, a trademark playful smile curling her lips. "I just need to be better at asking for help when I need it."

Sensing the emotional shift of his rider, Norvyk rose up from where he crouched next to her and stretched his wings languidly, shaking his frame with the casual grace of a large mountain cat.

"Not to be rude, but I was hoping for a nap before I flew us home later. Go, go and dance the night away, Little Lark. I shall be here waiting when you are ready. Plus, I think you shall be in good hands now." He then turned the full force of his heavy golden reptilian gaze onto the male Knight. "Isn't that right, Syr Faramund?"

 

[Faramund]

'Some would say "the best,"' Faramund replied, bluff as ever. Norvyk rumbled low in response, but Fara didn't see him roll his eyes. Progress? Smiling, the knight put his thoughts aside as he turned back to Petra. 'I understand,' he said, belief colouring his voice gold. 'We've all got a little... stubborn in us. Why ask your friends for help when you can carry the burden alone?' A rhetorical question, Faramund pressed on before Petra decided it needed answering.

'Friend Norvyk has the right of it though.' Seeing off his wine, Faramund placed the goblet aside. Of course, there were no tables out on the landing platform so he had to make do with the floor. Hope no-one noticed.

Straightening up, the dawnling offered his arm to Petra. 'Care to dance, m'lady? If not for the joy of it, then to see me embarrass myself in front of hundreds.' Grinning, he waited for Petra's reply. Norvyk knew his rider's mind better than most, but even he seemed to be waiting with bated breath. 'Come on,' Faramund encouraged her, 'it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, and from what I hear you are a good dancer.' He smiled, raised his brow.

'Show me.'

Petra Darthinian

 

[Reynard De Eramant]

Reynard lamented, knowing she would likely be safe with Gavne while he was climbing. Frankly he needed the exposure to nature and the time he had spent in the sky elve’s kingdom thus far had been mostly political discussions. Reynard had no responsibility towards these subjects. It was all mostly merchants, economy talks, the state of the people and lately the planning of the extravagant ball. Despite him not having any real part in those talks, he still made a point of paying attention. Reynard needed to be well informed, not only did it help his positioning within the kingdom but it also aided him in protecting Gwynn.

Reynard laughed, always happy to smile along with Gwynn. “Yvan is great but certainly the last Rohk I’d ever expect to give me words of encouragement. Maybe a snort or eye roll but certainly not encouragement.” Though Reynard got along with Yvan more than almost anyone else, there was no doubt Yvan was less than personable. He was an ornery bird but they had a mutual respect. He wasn’t even sure he’d manage it, but somehow Reynard managed to tame him.

The song came to an end and so too did the dance. As they walked off the dance floor Reynard didn’t miss the lingering hand. As Gwynns hand let go of his, he stifled a sigh, not wanting the princess to know just how much he enjoyed the last few minutes. Reynard forced a smile, knowing they had plenty more time to go before either of them were free of the politics. “Always the highlight of a ball. I think so at least, I’ve never been to a ball before.” his smile turned from forced to genuine as he joked. “If nothing else princess, you’re not alone.”

 

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynn was glad for the easy rhythm she had slid into with Reynard. It was incredibly easy to talk to him; he knew more about her than likely anyone else, besides her parents. "Yes, encouragement is not his strong suit. But Gavne and I will cheer you on," she replied.

To fight the sudden urge to push the political discussions back and drag Reynard back onto the dance floor, she turned to march into the crowd. She laughed at his words even as she walked. She had yet to meet anyone who actually enjoyed politics in the moment. Sure, it was great after alliances were formed, but it could just as easily go the other direction.

Gwynn was looking specifically for a certain queen- Queen Esmeralda of Route. She had personally invited the queen after attending one of Esmeralda's own balls. Their two kingdoms were on the route to friendship, and Gwynn had even considered Esme a friend afterwards. She made a note to find the priestess Azlat afterwards; she had also personally invited the woman after they compared their home lands.

She would walk up to Esme, taking three flutes off a passing tray and giving one to Reynard who was behind her and the other to the young queen. "It's lovely to see you again, I hope you're finding the ball enjoyable so far," Gwynn said, taking a small sip from her glass.

Reynard De Eramant

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Oh, Saint but there are a lot of people here...

Caliane had been to a few of the Great Cities the groundlings now occupied but her brief times spent in Alliria, Dornoch, Oban and Bhatharik still didn't make the feelings of crowds any less... uncomfortable. There was something about the press of bodies that reminded her of that cage that had changed her life. Taking a breath she excused herself politely from the clump of her own people who had been discussing a tourney of sorts with some of the sky elves present, and made her way as calmly as she could manage over to one of the large arched windows. Even the sight of the sky settled her anxiety enough to ease her breathing.

Suddenly, at the far end of the room, the band who had until that point been warming up with quieter, soothing numbers, struck up a more jaunty tune. There were a few cries from the sky elves as they recognised the start of the dance tune Pneria's Lover and quickly people began to flock to the dance floor.

 

[Helena]

Young as she was, only just coming done with her first year as the Sworn Captain of Dawn, Helena felt as if any mistep she made now would be the undoing of what good fortune had found them here. Yes, she had worked hard in this first year of her Captaincy. No, she had not shied away from the threats that assailed her Kith and Kin, and those they protected across the wyld lands of the Valen.

Yet. This was all together a different challenge. To show grace before so many. To know that, the princess of an entire peoples, who until now have been secluded from the world beyond this magnificent place, danced before her. Well. It was a lot.

That the Princess, Her Highness, Gwynnestri Raveniros, danced with a young man. A human man. No older than Lorinna or Keston. Well. That did grant her some small measure of comfort. The tiniest realization, that, like so many such moments in life, were rooted deep in truths that had come long before that breath in the span of time.

Most everyone was just as lost as she. All were just doing what they could, with what they could. Putting on a brave face to meet the challenges before them.

This was their opportunity, as much as it was hers, to forge something better for the tomorrow they all shared.

Selene, her Sister in Oath, Equal in Rank, and mentor in life, bowed to her, and invited her to join the floor. Helena smiled, softly, and bowed in turn, dressed in her finery as she was, she took the Captain's hand, and let the gallant Lady of Dusk, guide her.

Smooth and graceful. "You make this feel so easy at times, Selene," Helena confessed with warm smile, their hands together, their feet dancing in unison as her white and gold swirled beside Selene's blue and black. With but gentle pull, and easy push, the veteran captain set the pace, and Helena was there to follow.

Tall and strong backed, red-gold wolves shimmered with the fire's light across the brilliant white of her gown. "As if it were not but water, flowing down stream," she laughed as he looked into her dark eyes. Spun with a measured flourish, came to step together. "Thank you, for I would be so lost without you," she said quietly.

Selene

 

[Selene]

"Being lost isn't always so bad," Selene responded with a glimmer in her dark eyes. How the young Captain had changed over the past year. Still brilliant, still blessed by strength of the forest. But now with the weight of the Dawn upon her shoulders. All those lives. "Sometimes I think we ask too much of you, Helena."

The musicians started up with a merrier tune. It wasn't long until the formality of the first dance broke apart around them. As more couples joined in and added their energy to the floor, it was difficult to stay dour.

"Let us take this as a sign, to leave our worries here." She spoke up above the din. Shifted her arms and moved them faster, a hop-step that had her armored heels tapping in a less dignified way. "The dawn does not look behind to the dark path, after all. It faces the day."

And what was this, but a new dawn? Selene grinned, spun them faster still as skirts and cloak swirled, and then in that whirlwind they were deposited off to the side of the dance floor. Fresher now for the rush of the movement, she huffed out a breath.

"Now, listen to your elder's last bit of advice: Enjoy yourself." She let go of Helena's hand. Nudged her forward and away. A soft smile on her face. "No knight has been able to drink sky wine, in a very long time. It would be terrible to waste this opportunity."

Helena

 

[Helena]

"Too much?" she was caught off guard by the switch in tune, and knew the song well.

She listened to Selene. And nod her head, glad to have Selene's blessing to just... be. To take in the light of this moment. And what was to come.

As their feet moved and shift, and they hop stepped with glee, Helena recognized the tune, though it had taken a moment for her to place it.

Pneria's Lover.

Changed here, so high above the realms of the wylds and the stone, as the strings and wind let out their music in new turn. Sounds like echoes, similar, yet new to her ears. But the beat. The rythm. The soul of the song was still there. And to its familiar currents they did flow, until the wise Lady of Dusk, brought her to still. Their lungs busy with breath, and smiles on both of their faces.

Enjoy yourself.

Helena laughed small and to herself. "Yes, I think you are right," she smirked, and bowed her head with some grace. "Not every day we get to drink sky wine," she giggled, and curtseyed playfully. "Captain," her dress shimmered again with those bright brave creatures of their valiant Wylds, and she turned to find a server.

It was but a few beats of the song before she found said server, and saw a sight by one of the arched windows. A lonely soul with snow white wings, and a shock of brilliant red hair. The ends of her wings too seemed to have that deep red color. Helena felt compelled to speak with her, even grabbed up a second goblet of wine as she marched over.

"My," she said, as she neared the window, and the breathtaking view outside came into focus through the clear glass. The sun's warmth, strong against her skin. "Its really quite beautiful," she looked to the fiery avariel, and bowed her head gracefully. "Helena, Captain of Dawn, of the Knights Anatheaum," she announced playfully, and offered the woman one of her goblets. "My first time having sky wine," she said giddily. "My first time for a lot today," she added, a bit tender in her admission.

Caliane Ruinë

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Azlat continued toward the source of the commotion she’d sensed in determination to see this dragon that had arrived. While others seemed excited about the arrival, Azlat was concerned. Not all creatures that looked and flew as dragons necessarily were. Arethil had many creatures that carried similar appearance, yet were considered to be false pretenders. One had visited her city under similar pretense of diplomacy, merely as concealment for his intent to attack the city.

Cold winter air poured down the stairwell she ascended the last leg of her brief journey before arriving outside where Norvyk had landed, watching among a small crowd that continually gathered. The dragon was substantially smaller than she’d expected, Malakath held creatures of far greater scale. The pretender she’d seen in Thagretis reached a height taller than any building, and was of volume larger than even the largest war ship. The winged serpent before her was barely larger than a house. And not even a nice house, but a poor person’s shack.

A couple was caught in conversation before the dragon, who appeared to have some sort of relationship to it. There was a notable kinship between the woman and the dragon, clearly told by the affection displayed.

Azlat took immediate notice that a saddle of some sort was on the creatures back, and further concern overtook her that she hailed from Thanasis. The assumption was entirely erroneous – she held no idea Petra wasn’t actually from that city of dragon-riders. Petra’s elven ears would’ve been a giveaway, but Azlat had yet to spot them – so she maintained her erroneous assumption.

Thanasis was the only other human settlement on the distant southern continent. Though not outright hostile, the two city-states held plenty of animosity between them. She imagined that some of it would flare up, now that she was in the presence of those whom she believed to be rivals, yet none had taken much notice of her. Why, the (presumed) Thanassian was outright ignoring her.

Petra had done nothing, and yet Azlat grew irritated at the inferred slight.

“I see y͡ou’ve trave͜lled far.” Uttered Azlat. Bitter from self-delusion, she stormed forward at a determined pace, only to slow down as soon as she drew close enough to see her ears.

The woman was an elf.

Azlat now realized her assumptions had been false, and the woman wasn't from Thanasis at all. Well, this was an awkward mistake.

At least she hadn't opened up with an insult. Azlat wasn't how to recover from the comment, nor sure how it had been regarded. But she did need to know more about this 'dragon', and simply awaited a response, hoping she could conceal the mistake.

Petra Darthinian Faramund

 

[Esmeralda]

As Princess Gwynnestri danced with her partner Esmereldas mind could not help but wonder. Was there more to their story then met the eye? If so and if it was one involving romantic entanglement then the royal needed to be careful.

Esme herself knew the dangers of falling for someone well below your station and if it was allies and power Gwynnestri and her Kingdom were looking for then this was a very dangerous game she was playing especially if what is expected of Gwen was the same as that of Esme.

As an ally and a friend who had been through the same, Queen Esmerelda felt obligated to warn her friend at some stage of the treacherous waters she seemed to be sailing in.
_____________

When the dance ended Kizzen and Wesley made their way into the crowds. Kizzen most likely to talk-up some ladies and Wesley, well was making a failing attempt in concealing that he was on the lookout for someone.

As Princess Gwynnestri and dance partner came over they would find only Esme and Koa standing there now.

"Your Majesty thank you for inviting me and my men. You both look lovely and we are enjoying ourselves." Esmereldas voice polite as always as she took the flute. "May I introduce Koa, the head of my personal guard and well on his way to becoming our next warchief."

Following his introduction Koa nodded at the Princess and extended his forearm to Reynard so they could gasp each others. He recognized the warrior now infont of him, and respected him for that.

Gwynnestri Ravaneiros Reynard De Eramant

 

[Wesley Argent]

So far, Wesley had been unable to spot the beauty he had met not to long ago at the Festival of Lights in Astenvale so for the time being he would relax in hopes that if she were here, she would make herself known.

Finding a drink he wondered over to some windows to admire the view below, the same view he had just spent two days trekking up.

However, he found he was not the only one in search of a view to look onto as he waited for the night to pass by two women stood.

Clearing his throat Wesley approached, as shy as always he was towards the opposite sex he would try his best to conceal it.

"Do uh...Do you mind if I-i stand here too?"
The all to familiar feeling of bloodrushing to his cheeks whenever he spoke to a women and reared its head once more.

Caliane Ruinë Helena

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

As the Knights emerres themselves into the crowds, Ophelia would head straight for one of the tables with wine on them. The last time she had had complete acess to real elven wine was over a year ago and the little she kept on her person she had saved for special occasions.

Opening her purse she went in elbow deep before fiddeling around a couple seconds before her hand emerged with a flask.

Raising her eyebrows mischievously to herself she took a quick glance around and began pouring wine from one of the jugs until her flask was at its brim, placed the lid back on and popped it into her purse.

Pleased with her refill, Ophelia poured a glass of wine and turned back to the other guests.

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle gingerly sat up from the bench she had been laying on with a long groan. After nearly losing her lunch multiple times over the side of the airship, she had though it wise to take a rest, and so had found a quiet sideroom to lay down. But for now, the nausea had passed, and Abrielle slowly stood and did her best to smooth out her short, blueberry colored dress. Satisfied with her handiwork, Abrielle made her way out to the ballroom.

She was greeted by the sight of smartly dressed men, women in beautiful gowns, seemingly endless tables of food and drink, and- Wait... Was that Wesley? What the hell was he doing there?! Abrielle's heart began pounding madly and a brief wave of nausea washed over her as she desperately sought an avenue to avoid him. "Nononono this can't be happening!" she whispered to herself, slipping around a couple as they sashayed by, and frantically worked her way deeper into the crowd.

After the Festival of lights was over, Abrielle hadn't really expected to see Wesley ever again. Memories of that night came flooding back, and she could feel her cheeks burning. "This can't be happening!" she repeated again. Abrielle continued to navigate her way through the partygoers, as an unasked for tsunami of worries filled her mind. Was her dress the right color? Did her hair still look okay? Did her shoes go with the dress? And, most importantly of all, would Wesley even remember her?

Suddenly finding herself faced by a table of drinks, Abrielle halted in her tracks. There it was. The one thing she suffered socializing with idiots at parties to get her hands on. Glorious alcohol. On one hand she knew Helena had explicitly forbidden her from drinking. On the other... Well... Abrielle grabbed the closest bottle of wine and filled a small crystal glass until it was nearly overflowing. She knew she wasn't going to survive the ball, or seeing Wesley, without at least one drink in her. Lifting the wine glass to her lips, Abrielle downed the wine as fast as she could. By the time she had set the glass back down, she was already feeling a bit better.

Now that the shock had momentarily passed, Abrielle surveyed the room. She saw no sign of Wesley, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Another glance at the people around her to find someone, anyone, to converse with. Abrielle's eyes landed on a familiar figure and she hurried over to them. Ophelia Tirion. One of the few elves besides Hector that she could stand. "I see you went right for the drinks too!" Abrielle giggled, hoping the Ophelia wouldn't notice her bright red cheeks. "Are you enjoying the ball so far?"

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

When Abrielle Huxley appeared infont of her, Ophelia couldn't help but give a sideways glance. From their brief interactions, Ophelia found they had good banter.

"Whats got you all red and puffy? Or don't I want to know?" Her finger tracing the air around red-heads face, and eyebrows raised.

Ophelia couldnt help but sport a smug smirk. Last time she had seen her like this there was...well a 'dance' partner involved.

Abrielle Huxley

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

But I feel a little better knowing well, he met her eyes again. Ill be dancing with you, Lori,

"That was terrible," she whispered teasingly. She still smiled. The expression fixed on her face, even if it had a nervous edge.

She kept her eyes forwards as they crossed into the tower. It was impossibly tall. She couldn't imagine how the elves could have possibly built it.

Of course, they hadn't, but no one was going to be admitting that today.

The stark exterior of the tower and formations of flying warrior elves was a contrast to the delicately decorated interior. Lorinna steered them away from the dance floor at first, finding refreshments in abundance.

"You know," she said to Hector, watching the floor with a glass of wine in hand.

"I could have never be sent to the Order. There would have been nothing to prepare for but dances and parties like this."

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

"Huh? What? N-n-nothing!" Abrielle stammered. "I-I always looks like this! My f-face isn't red! Yours is!" She patted her cheeks in a vain effort to drive the redness away. Damn Ophelia! Abrielle cursed under her breath.

A long sigh escaped from Abrielle, and she lowered her hands and hugged herself. "I-Its just that... T-There's somebody her that I wasn't expecting to see again." she admitted quietly. Taking her glass, she filled it with water and took a sip. Abrielle's cheeks were still on fire, and if anything, Ophelia's comment only made matters worse.

"But i-its not like I'm happy to s-see him again or anything!" Abrielle insisted, looking at Ophelia. She was certain the elf could see right through her lame excuses, which only made her face more red.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Hector]

Hector blushed some at her teasing, but smiled all the same as they walked together. Apparently it wasn't that terrible.

Ophelia and Abri seemed to be getting along, whispering something to each other some tables over. All of them needed a bit of liquid courage, it seemed.

"Sky wine," he found himself thinking aloud as he looked down at the efervescent drink. The color of honey tinged with delicate berries. "Probably has a proper name," he went on.

Til Lori said something to him. He let the words sink in. Looked back down at the bubbly wine. At the finery he had put on for the event, and all the gilded shimmer that seemed to glitter about the place. "It's true," he said wistfully. "Not a single band of raiders, or warband in sight," he looked to her again.

"No early morning runs, or lakeside practice sessions to make ready," he smirked. "Or toys to save," his smile softened as his eyes trailed back to his drink, watched the bubbles pop, and took a sip.

Lorinna Astarel

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelias jaw dropped slightly, her expression scandalous.
"Abrielle.. " her eyes narrowed now, a cheeky smile on her face as if they were a pair of fifteen year olds exchanging the latest gossip.

"Do  not tell me you have fallen for some," her face twisted now to one of slight disgust as she gestured aimlessly infront of her with her wine hand. "...Some boy?!?"

She lent in closer now, voice a loud whisper, "Well go on ! Show me who he is? Unless..." Ophelia looked to her companion as if afraid of the answer and took a deep sip.

"It isnt another squire right? Because then you only have yourself to blame."
Hope you arent that dumb Abri...

Downing the rest of her drink, Ophelia motioned for another server and grabbed two glasses - handing one instinctively to Abrielle.

Abrielle Huxley

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle absolutely hated the way Ophelia was smiling at her. "Another squire? No no! Of course not!" she whispered back. Her gaze darted over to Hector and Lori, and a tiny frown appeared on her lips. Somebody had already beaten her to him. Abrielle returned her attention to Ophelia with a small, annoyed hmph!

Abrielle gladly accepted the drink, downing a good portion of it in one go. Should I tell Ophelia? she wondered. She seemed trustworthy enough, though you could never really tell with elves. Draining what remained in her glass, Abrielle set it down and nervously looked to Ophelia.

"Y-you know that man I... Uhh... Talked to at the festival? Well h-he's here." Abrielle swallowed anxiously, and pointed in his general direction. "His name's Wesley and he's somewhere over there talking to the Captain."

Abrielle lowered her arm and hugged herself again. Damn it! I didn't even want to be here in the first place! Then he had to be here and make things worse! she thought. "I-I wouldn't necessarily say that I've fallen for him! As if anybody would fall for a handsome idiot like him!"

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia followed Abrielles depection and spotted a decent looking red head.
"Abrielle, he is dressed like a brute."
She rolled her eyes, expecting some tall, dashingly handsome brunette with buldging muscles and a squire jaw.

"He does not look like anything special." Sipping on her drink she peered between the two of them.

"So are you just going to stand here yearning the rest of the evening or go find your...love", the elf had to push out the last word.
Humans, such complicated little things

Abrielle Huxley

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

My, she said, as she neared the window, and the breathtaking view outside came into focus through the clear glass. The suns warmth, strong against her skin. Its really quite beautiful, she looked to the fiery avariel, and bowed her head gracefully. Helena, Captain of Dawn, of the Knights Anatheaum, she announced playfully, and offered the woman one of her goblets. My first time having sky wine, she said giddily. My first time for a lot today, she added, a bit tender in her admission.

The soft steps were whisked under the noise of dancers and revellers alike. It was only the familiar tingle down her spine, a warning built up from centuries hunting monsters in the spine, that alerted her to someone approaching her from the throng. She took a breath to steel herself, ready to brush off a request for a dance, but was pleasantly surprised to find someone join her simply for the view. Her wings sagged a little in relief.

"Caliane," she tipped her wings in return before returning them to her back and offered a warm smile before taking a sip of her own wine. "I don't think you are alone in that today," she mused, casting a glance over the bustling room. It made her heart ache to see it so. "First times are always my favourite, though."

But it was the organisation from which her new companion was from that piqued her interest the most. Cali had heard of the Knights Anatheaum among her travels, especially during her time around the Eldyr Tree, but she had gleaned very little about them from those who had mentioned their order. She had been about to ask more when they were joined by another.

Do uh...Do you mind if I-i stand here too?

"Not at all," though she cast a glance to Helena first to see if she objected. "Caliane," she tipped her wings once more in greeting. "Are you, too, from the Knights of Anatheaum?"

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle scowled at Ophelia's comment. How dare she talk about her love like that!? "No he's not!" she retorted. "Maybe his clothes could have been tailored to fit a bit better, but other than that he looks very handsome!"

"He does not look like anything special..." Abrielle looked over at Wesley with an worried frown on her lips. What if Ophelia was right? What if he really was nothing special? Memories of their meeting at the festival flitted though her mind. The way he treated and spoke to her with respect befitting a queen though she neither had the station nor the disposition of one. His strong arms holding her gently and carefully as if she would break, his soft breath against her face as they kissed. No other man had never caused such a raging storm of unfamiliar and confusing emotions in her heart.

Ophelia's voice interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present. "Hmm?" Abrielle blinked and looked to the elf. "Of course I'm not going to stand here all night!" As much as she would've liked to. The thought of actually walking over and seeing Wesley was almost as scary as the scolding she was sure to get from Helena for drinking. "And he's not my love."

Abrielle finished what was left off her wine and excused herself. She wove her way through those gathered, and stopped a few paces behind Wesley. What was the proper way for a lady to approach a man at a dance? Was there even a right way? Abrielle took a brief moment to check her dress and hair before she steeled her nerves and approached him.

Coming up next to Wesley, she lightly touched his arm and looked up at him with the best smile she could muster as a nervous wreck. "H-Hello Wesley." Abrielle spoke shyly, almost oblivious to the two women present.

Wesley Argent

 

[Reynard De Eramant]

Reynard was happy for Gwynn's support. It was something she provided freely and often, always willing to reassure him if he happened to need it. Of course this courtesy went both ways and it only made sense. They were around each other constantly and so there were few better suited to support than one another. She was perhaps one of the people he had gotten closest to in his time since becoming the mercenary. It was a feat too considering the scope of just how many people he had met and gotten to know during his short time as a mercenary. There was no denying that Gwynnestri was a truly special woman. "Thank you, with the support of you two I should be able to climb even the highest peak in the land." he said jokingly, but not without a hint of sincerity.

As they approached Queen Esmeralda, Reynard happily took the flute of drink offered to him though he didn't take a sip. Truth be told he wasn't sure whether or not it was alcohol and wasn't willing to try it just yet. He'd hold it in his hand while Gwynn talked with the foreign Queen. He took his usual place just behind and to the side of Gwynn. Close enough to hear and be involved in conversation but not so close as to give any ideas to those watching. He was an observer, a bodyguard, but certainly not a politician. This conversation would follow most others in that he would simply observer unless spoken to.

Reynard was surprised to see a forearm offered in his direction. Koa, the head of Queen Esmeralda's personal guard, was showing Reynard an uncommon sign of respect. Reynard took the opportunity happily, grasping his peers' forearm in a show of mutual respect for one another. Reynard always appreciated when he was taken seriously, something not entirely common in his line of work. Though he doubted they were explicitly told he was a mercenary, it could be assumed based off him being a human and certainly a foreigner to these lands. He wouldn't complain though, and show the same respect for as long as it was given.

Reynard opted not to introduce himself, a decision he didn't love but one he felt appropriate. He'd let the princess do the introductions should she feel it necessary, and he'd avoid talking out of turn especially in front of an incredibly important guest. He had no idea of this woman's temperament and wished to avoid upsetting her. He was great with people and a great talker, but there were rules and expectations he could be unaware of, better to play it safe for now unless told otherwise, however he still offered a kind smile that would say everything about him that words could not.