Open Chronicles A Diplomatic Ball

[Helena]

"Well met, Lady Caliane," she said with a slight bow, and was glad to hear her admission. A bit of solidarity oft made the must uncomfortable of situations barable. Helped the mind ease. "Agreed," she said with warmth in her voice.

For what was life without the adventure that came with the new?

Another voice joined there conversation. A young man who looked familiar to her. But whose name she could not quite place.

Lady Caliane gave her welcome, and Helena followed with a polite bow of her own. "Helena," she said to the younger man. No need to worry him with stuffy titles. "No, not one of ours, I'm afraid," she said warmly, her eyes scanned the room, and it all clicked when she spotted the entourage from Route, their heraldry, the white dragon upon a a field of lilies, set sail across a sea of blue.

Syr Guernot had told her of the young man from the festival, and the mission he had been on. To retrieve the Anemnesic Amber, fit for his queen.

She wondered if this was that same young man.

"You are with the Retinue of Routé, I take it, young man?" she asked warmly.

Caliane Ruinë Wesley Argent

 

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynn nodded respectfully at Koa and gave the young queen a smile. Gwynn noticed a question in the woman's eyes and the first drops of fear pooled in her stomach. The next words she said were key and could make or break this alliance. "Of course. This is my personal bodyguard, Reynard," she said, gesturing and looking back at Reynard. As much as she wanted to introduce him as her favorite person in the world, she knew it would make things harder for both of them.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, Gwynn focused her attention back on Esme. "Later on in the night, I will meet with you and we can discuss the future of our two countries. Until then, I recommend you enjoy yourself; drink, dance, and eat," she kept her diplomatic smile up even as the question in the queen's eyes naggled her.

"Care to walk with me? I'd love to show you the eyrie where we keep our eagles," Gwynn said, wanting to get away from the crowd and talk to Esme more personally. She knew Reynard and Koa would still follow them. If Esme would agree, Gwynn would offer the woman her arm.

Esmeralda Reynard De Eramant

 

[Esmeralda]

As Gwynnestri introduced Reynard, Esmerelda offered a polite smile - all the while taking in his body language as subtly as possible.

"Thank you princess, my other two men have already began enjoying the festivities."

Gwynns offer to see the eyrie was one she would not be turning down. The eagles were majestic creatures and her knowledge of them only extended to that what lay in the books of her library but books an personal experience where very different.
Esmerelda did have her suspicions that the royals invite extended beyond the topic of the noble creatures.

"I would love too." With her free hand Esme wrapped her arm gently around Gwynns and the pair walked off. Their guards only a few steps behind.

Gwynnestri Ravaneiros Reynard De Eramant

 

[Wesley Argent]

You are with the Retinue of Routé, I take it, young man? she asked warmly.

When Helena and Calaine spoke to Wesley he had to stiffel a small hiccup as he was not expecting much conversation or for the women to know who he was, then again arriving with a foreign monarch was not very subtle.

"Wesley Argent my lady. That's correct, I arrived with Queen Esmerelda from Routé but only recently returned from trip outside of my kingdom." He tried his best to sound as confident in his statement as possible.

Then the young warrior felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to find the beautiful women he had been searching for all evening.
"La-lady Abriella," Wesley cleared his throat, caught off guard. Whilst he had been looking for her since there arrival, actually seeing - let alone talking to her - her was a completely different story.

The man looked between the three women, his cheeks nearing the colour of his hair. He still had no idea how to talk to women, especially an entire gaggle of them.

His eyes were as wide as saucers and he slowly began to take a few steps back. "Ladies of you will...uh...willExcuseMe."

The last bit of his sentence came out way to quickly and instead of stand there and make an even bigger fool of himself, he turned and speed walked away as subtle ( it wasnt subtle, he looked like a toddler learning to walk) and darted over to Kizzen who turned out that whilst talking to a beautiful eleven women had seen the whole thing and decided to greet him with a smack upside the head.

Abrielle Huxley Helena Caliane Ruinë

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"Bless," Caliane murmured with a smile as the young boy scuttled back into the crowds with cheeks as red as her hair. She had grown used to groundlings fumbling over their words over the sight of her wings, but she suspected in this case it had everything to do with the young beauty who had seemed to know him. Turning her emerald eyes to the Lady Abriella her smile only deepened. "I would press your advantage if I were you." She did not think it too far to assume the girl had feelings from the way she watched him go, but then groundlings were odd.

"I've heard many stories of the Knights," the avariel's wings quivered with excitement as she returned to the conversation they had been having before. "You do a lot of good work in the footfalls of our home, the people in the towns there speak very highly of you all."

 

[Reynard De Eramant]

As Reynard was introduced to the foreign Queen by Gwynnestri he offered a small and polite bow, keeping a kind smile on his face. Thankfully Reynard never had trouble looking friendly so he hoped he was able to send a good message with what little he could do in this situation, he didn't want to speak out of turn but he did feel that not speaking at all may be more rude.

Reynard straightened out again and offered a few polite, but no less kind words Queen Esmeralda. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty." he wasn't sure on the preference for title, and there were a lot to choose from so he took a guess with Majesty. He'd met nobles and royalty who preferred different honorary titles so it was always a risk to guess wrong. Even if he did guess wrong, he'd hoped that his kind disposition would be enough to dissuade her from believing it was anything less than an honest mistake.

As the two Royals walked, arms linked, to the eyrie where the eagles were kept he followed close behind, allowing himself to relax a little but still ready should anything happen. He was keen to see the eagles, never passing an opportunity to see the graceful animals. He also enjoyed seeing Gwynn interact with them, her kind personality and gentleness was always a thing to behold. There was a reason even Yvan gave her more respect than he did anyone else, save maybe for Reynard himself.

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle stood and watched Wesley walk away in stunned silence. She had finally plucked up enough courage to see him thanks to Ophelia's teasing, and then he had the audacity to walk away from her?! Abrielle crossed her arms with a small hmph! "Fine! Didn't want to talk to you either!"

Now what was she going to do? Maybe get something to eat? Abrielle supposed she could go back and bug Ophelia. She looked up as the woman who looked like an angel spoke. "Press my advantage...?" Abrielle wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, but the woman was right about one thing. Something had to be done.

Abrielle stormed over to Wesley with a scowl set firmly on her lips, grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. "What the hell is your problem you bastard?" Abrielle snarled. Roughly gabbing the front of his clothes, Abrielle pulled him down closer until he was nearly leaning over her. The fire of her wrath burned brightly in her eyes. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to bring myself to approach you?! And then when I finally got the courage to do it, you walk away with hardly a word!"

Realizing that her voice had steadily been raising in volume, Abrielle paused and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her tone was calm, the fury in her voice replaced with a touch of sadness."I just wanted to see you... Wouldn'ta killed ya to give me the courtesy of some polite conversation, ya know." Abrielle said quietly, and released Wesley with a sigh, lightly pushing him away.

"It was nice to see you again, Wesley." Abrielle gave him a halfhearted smile, though her heart wasn't at all in it. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find somebody else to talk to who isn't going to run off like a startled cat just because I said hello." With a wave, she turned to leave.

Wesley Argent

 

[Wesley Argent]

When Abriella spun him around and grabbed his clothes Wesley was stunned, not at all expecting such a reaction. Gods she was strong for her size.

His eyes were wide, he looked to Kizzen who simply shrugged his shoulders and led the women he was flirting with onto the dance floor.

"I-I," He couldn't get a word in. First she was shouting at him, which he most definitely did not appreciate but knew he deserved.

But then her voice changed and Wesley knew he had messed up. When Abriella turned around he grabbed her softly by her hand. "Abri please," He waited for her to look at him before continuing.

His voice was soft and gentle, just like the night they met.
"I am sorry, I just got all flustered. First those other two women began speaking to me and then...." His cheeks flushed once more, "and then you showed up and I had no idea what to do or what to say. The whole reason I even came tonight was in hopes of finding you. Esmerelda did not need me, in fact she insisted I rest....but...but I just needed to see you again."

Wesleys words came out as smoothly as he could, it felt as if he had a lump in his throat but he knew he needed to take the leap because for some reason, he could not forget the fiery beauty who stood before him.

His next sentance came out as more of a desperate plea then anything else, "Can you just come dance with me?"
Abrielle Huxley

 

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynnestri linked her arm through Esmeralda's and led the queen around the edge of the dance floor to the doorways of the ballroom. Already, some couples were sneaking off to gods knew where. Gwynn was grateful to the extra guards she had posted surrounding the ballroom, preventing their guests from straying too far from where they were allowed.

There were a short few staircases before the two royal women reached the eyrie. A gentle breeze ruffled Gwynn's skirts. She glanced at Esme, then back at the eagles. They had been cleaned, each feather polished, their wingtips embellished with gold. Gavne, Gwnn's eagle, rose her head and leveled her beady black gaze on Esme. Gwynn longed to sit with her eagle and fall asleep curled up against Gavne's side, but she could not.

Gwynn cleared her throat. "Something seems to be troubling you, Majesty," Gwynn said softly, taking care to remain respectful to Esme. She didn't know if they had reached a first name basis with each other, but she didn't think it smart to find out now, especially not when she could feel not only Reynard's eyes on her back but also Esme's guard.

Esmeralda Reynard De Eramant

 

[Esmeralda]

The eagles were beautiful beyond measure, regal even. Esme took in their beauty, the novels did them no justice.

Then Gwynnestri asked her question and Esmerelda knew the time had come. She showed Koa her hand to signal him to remain a few paces behind.

Removing her arm from Gwyns, she moved to face the sky elf directly. "I must put all formalities and politeness aside for what I wish to ask you Gwynnestri."

Esme knew that with such a simple sentance she was already treading dangerous waters but for what it was worth, she felt obligated to warn the princess if her suspicions were correct.

Her voice was low, laced in both concern and wary. "Whilst our alliance is not an old one, I feel the need to enquire about your peoples views on marriage, and if it is a threat to your position if you were to become romanticly involved with..." Esmereldas eyes darted towards Reynard, "a man far below your station."

The young queen was uncertain of what to expect following her question, or even if she had gone about it the right way. Herself and her men were in uncharted territory, she was well aware that if they so wished, the Ravaneiros family could easily get rid of her and her entourage - though it would cause an all out war and with the sky elves only now once again begining to integrate themselves into society, she did not think they were willing to take the risk.

Gwynnestri Ravaneiros

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle froze as Wesley gently took her hand. She quelled the urge to yank her hand away, and cautiously turned to face him. Abrielle listened intently as Wesley spoke, and nodded at Wesley's request to dance as she was unable to find her voice.

She allowed herself to be lead out onto the dance floor, still clutching Wesley's hand tightly. His words echoed loudly in her head as they moved in time with the music. Wesley had hoped to see her? He had needed to see her?! Abrielle could hardly believe it. Was she dreaming? She moved in as close as she could get to Wesley, and by the time the song ended, she had found her voice once again.

"You're a big dummy, ya know that?" Abrielle smiled warmly and reached up to tenderly touch Wesley's cheek. "You say you needed to see me, but ran away the second you did." She giggled as she gently ran her thumb across his cheek. "But its okay, really! There's need to apologize! Besides, I'm sure you're not the first man to be scared off by beautiful women," she teased.

Bringing her hand down, Abrielle did her best to smooth out the wrinkles she had caused earlier. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. Grabbing you, shouting...just generally causing a scene. I... overreacted." Her smile faltered, and she cast her eyes to the floor. "I was just so excited to see you, and I was certain that you would feel the same way. And then seeing you run away from me like that... hurt. I shoulda talked to you about it instead of lashing out like I did. So I'm sorry."

Abrielle looked back at Wesley with smile as the music swelled and they resumed dancing. "I'm so glad you were here!" she admitted. "Was starting to worry that I would never see you again. Honestly, I haven't been able to get you off my mind since the festival..."

Wesley Argent

 

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynn stiffened imperceptibly as Esmeralda spoke. A part of her knew this had been coming, but it still scared her a little. "I can assure you, Esmeralda, there is nothing between my bodyguard and I, but I appreciate your concern," Not totally a lie, but not a full truth either. Gwynn could tell that Esme meant no harm or insult, rather she wanted to warn the princess of insult that might ensue if rumors spread that Reynard was her lover. Was one dance really all it took? Or had the queen seen something in the way the two looked at each other that Gwynn and Reynard hadn't noticed?

Gwynn hoped the others were not as perceptive and too preoccupied to pay attention to her. Gwynn was silent for a moment, looking at the eagles. "As for marriage," Gwynn continued, her voice softer but firmer, "By law, I can marry whomever I please. The only obstacle is my people's own opinions of my future husband." Gwynn returned her gaze to Esme, not moving for a moment.

 

[Petra Darthinian]

Some would say the best, Faramund replied, bluff as ever. Norvyk rumbled low in response, but Fara didnt 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. Weve 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, mlady? If not for the joy of it, then to see me embarrass myself in front of hundreds. Grinning, he waited for Petras reply. Norvyk knew his riders mind better than most, but even he seemed to be waiting with bated breath. Come on, Faramund encouraged her, its a once in a lifetime opportunity, and from what I hear you are a good dancer. He smiled, raised his brow.

Show me.

Petra couldn't help but laugh at her friend, his innate warmth and honesty of character helped to ground her and wash away the last of her anxieties. And not one to shirk a gift given, she flashed him a grin before throwing back the goblet of elven sky wine he offered. The bubbles tickled her nose and the magic brewed within gave the imbibement a refreshing impression, as if one were to taste the viscosity of clouds and the brisk winds atop ice-touched mountains. She raised a brow and held back a shiver as she placed her glass next to his, giggling at the ridiculousness of it.

"Well, I'm glad to report that their wine is nothing to scoff at. But I think we're going to need at least another two or three to make sure we test the skills of their vintners accordingly. Especially if I am to embarrass you with my dancing." She tucked her hands primly into his offered arm, squeezing his bicep encouragingly, the beginning frissons of excitement racing up her spine at the thought of the evening ahead of all of them. That joy bubbled into her cheeks and Petra couldn't help the beaming smile as she turned towards Faramund, ducking her head closer as if they shared a secret. "Come on! We didn't get dressed up for nothing. And the good people deserve to see how great my ass looks in this dress, yes?! Gods know I damn well worked for it."

She laughed at the expression on Faramund's face and dragged him towards the ballroom, her celebratory spirit making her oblivious to the curious individual dressed in dark robes that had joined them on the platform.

But the dragon had been watching. And he turned now fully to the woman as she approached. His draconian gaze taking her in and missing little.

A tense silence stretched between them before he broke it with a deep baritone rumble, "I did not think a priestess of the Holy Elder Dragons would grace us so far West from their great city." His tone was ambiguous, but the subtle flaring of his nostrils and constriction of his pupils were sign enough of his contempt for those who knew the language of dragons.

Faramund Azlat Ushus

 

[Wesley Argent]

As the pair danced, Wesley felt like he was lost in a dream, enjoying every moment. When the music came to an end he remained right were he was, savoring the moment and never letting Abrielle go.

The she called him a big dummy and for some reason his heart melted. It was not your typical term of endearment but jeez, I enjoyed.

Wesley remained quite while Abriella voiced the rest of her emotions. He knew what to say but no idea how to say it so he was grateful when the next song began. Holding her a little bit tighter at the waist this time, the teen danced a few steps before he replied after making an attempt at getting his thoughts together.

"Even if you caused a scene - which you didn't," he made sure to to add that just in case, "I like how fiery you are." He could tell she wasn't one to take any prisoners and that whilst much smaller them him, didnt shy away from putting him in his place.

Then an idea struck mid-step and Wesley froze just as he brought his lady back in from a twirl. He placed both of his hand on either side of her head, gods she was tiny compared to him. "You should come to my kingdom! We're having a festival in a two months time!" For some reason unbeknownst to him, he was absolutely giddy with the idea of Abri visiting his home, finding out more about his culture and his people.

"You can even bring some of your friends with you!" He guestered to the Helenas general a smile so wide it almost took up his whole face, never taking his eyes off of hers for a moment.

Abrielle Huxley

 

[Faramund]

'Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that,' Faramund commented innocently, playing to his oafish strengths. 'But since we're on the subject, I could argue that all of you looks good in that dress.' Smiling, he inclined his head back towards the ballroom. 'Let's go show the others how it's done. Preferably before Norvyk decides to roll his eyes at me.' Faramund shot a glance at the rider of storms.

And just like that, it was too late.

Well, shit. Allowing himself to be half-dragged, half-pulled back towards the ballroom, Faramund took a moment to admire the woman on his arm. Petra had always been beautiful. Since the day she had arrived in Astenvale, Petra had been a bright spark in an otherwise dull and gloomy existence. Sure, the ranger lifestyle had its moments, but they were few and far between. Fortunately, with people like Petra around, there was always something to look forward to.

Like dancing, or drinking. Mostly drinking.

Petra's scaled hand squeezed his bicep, and Faramund felt himself being pulled from his thoughts. Ah, right. Showtime! Mustering his resolve, and promising himself not to step on Petra's feet during the dance, Fara accompanied the elf towards the dancefloor. If the energy in the room was anything to go by, they had arrived just in the nick of time. 'Sounds like they're leading into a new tune,' the knight said, noting how couples were drifting off and on to the floor as the musicians took quick refreshments.

'Wonder if they take requests?'

A hush fell, and suddenly the dance had started. Sweeping his cloak up and over his shoulder, Faramund took Petra in his arms. He had never been much of a dancer, but that didn't matter so long as they both enjoyed themselves, right? Right? 'Before you ask, yes, that is a sword in my pocket,' Faramund said, the ceremonial blade at his hip rattling quietly as they stepped in time to the music. 'Though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to see you.'

Petra Darthinian

 

[Esmeralda]

Esmerelda considered Gwynnestri's answer.
"I am glad you are not so constricted when it comes to possible betrothals."

She noticed the Princesses anxiety during her answers, Esme took her hands softly.
"I can see your thoughts are racing so I want to make it clear, the only reason I noticed the connection the two of you share is because I had the same not to long ago and it did not end well for him."

Esme swallowed hard, fighting back emotions before continuing. "We are untouchable to an extent, but they..." Her gaze flickered to Reynard, "...are not and even with all the power in world, sometimes we still cannot help them. It is a fate I wish upon no-one."

Letting go of Gwynns hands, Esme took a step back and cleared her throat; head high and face solemn once more.

Gwynnestri Ravaneiros

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Dinner and a show...
Whilst Abrielle battled with the ups and downs of young love, Ophelia couldn't help but enjoy the free entertainment. Five or six glasses of wine down and almost half a cheese plate later she was honeslty rooting for the squire to give the tall red headed lover of hers an entertaining slap....aaah but to no avail. They had seemed to make up.  

Boring.

On the prowl for more entertainment, the elf filled up another goblet and sauntered off.

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle was grateful to Wesley for saying that she hadn't really caused a scene. She hadn't been particularly worried about embarrassing herself with her actions, but had more so been worried about embarrassing Wesley.

She giggled as Wesley excitedly took hold of her face. Abrielle was too busy drowning in his eyes to fully listen, and blinked when he finished speaking. Something about visiting him and bringing her friends? Also something about a festival in his kingdom? Abrielle had been a tad curious about the kingdom he had talked about when they first met. But due to other things taking a place, she hadn't had the chance to ask.

"I would love that, Wes!" She stood on her toes and gently pulled him closer, eagerly locking lips with him. They separated after a moment, but Abrielle still held him close, bringing her lips close to his ear.

"Ya know... I dislike staying in new places," she said in a low voice. "Even if I'm with the knights. There's all kinds of dangerous people in taverns and inn these days, no matter where it is." Her voice became light and flirty as she continued, "I think I'd feel much safer if I had a big strong warrior to stay with and watch over me. Someone like you." Abrielle grinned devilishly as she let Wesley go, and took the lead as the next song began.

Wesley Argent

 

[Petra Darthinian]

Ignoring how hyper-aware she was of his hand in hers, especially the one he was keeping very respectfully against her lower back while they meandered about, Petra instead scrunched her nose in mock confusion at his joke, "I'm sorry, but did you say your sword?" A pause and then her trademark wicked grin appeared while she casually shrugged a shoulder. "Ha! Can't say that I noticed honestly."

His sudden laughter startled a chuckle from her as she watched him, caught in his moment of surprised jovial abandon. A warmth grew in her chest at the sheer authenticity of him. And yet she was lost momentarily in thought until something caught her attention, and then she couldn't stop herself from asking, "Did you know they did that?" Her scaled hand hesitantly lifted to brush a thumb against the outside edge of his eye, her voice dropping to a thoughtful breath. "Your eyes, I mean. Did you know the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh?" She had stopped moving, so lost in her revelation. The question hanging between them in her stunned silence. A heartbeat and then Petra's eyes snapped to Faramund's and a small gasp escaped her, embarrassment cinching her gut.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but the ballroom began to fill with a soft, swelling melody, and in her anxiety, she gathered Faramund closer and stuttered through an explanation regarding how well she loved this song. And as quickly as that moment had come, so too were they off across the floor once more.

Faramund

 

[Gwynnestri Ravaneiros]

Gwynn was still as Esme spoke. The queen was voicing Gwynn's fears and Gwynn could not help looking over her shoulder at Reynard. He was standing behind her, so calm, unaware of what the two women were talking about. Gwynn had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from doing something she might regret later. As much as she hated to admit it, Esmeralda was right. She could not be selfish and want Reynard when it could put him at risk. Even still, her mind was racing and she was trying to find a way around it, a way she might be able to keep Reynard with her, even after her stalker was dead.

"You're right," she said, her voice miraculously still steady. There was a moment of silence where no one spoke before Gwynn cleared her own throat and turned to leave the eerie. "Shall we return to the ball?" she said to Esme, but she could not help meeting Reynard's eyes. Gods, this would be so hard. Before Gwynn could burst into tears she looked away and walked towards the stairs back down to the floor with the ballroom.

Reynard De Eramant

 

[Faramund]

'Ouch.' The knight laughed, taking it all in his stride. Petra had always been a bit of a firebrand. When it came to teasing him, there was no-one better. Of that Faramund was certain. 'Did you know they did that?' Petra said, catching the dawnling with his guard down. 'Did I know what did what?' he asked, momentarily perplexed.

A scaled hand appeared in his vision, and Faramund went still as the she-elf probed at the skin surrounding his eye. Her lips moved, but whatever she said went unheard by Faramund. He was too distracted by her to pay attention to much else. 'Petra...' he began, flinching ever so slightly as his companion's claw-like nails brushed his cheek. Unbidden magic crackled across his skin at her touch, like a thousand tiny pinpricks.

Had she meant to do that, or had she gotten caught up in the moment, same as him?

Their eyes met, and Faramund got his answer. 'Listen, I-' The music kicked up again, and suddenly there was no more time for talk. Following along with Petra's rushed explanation, Fara joined her as they swept once more onto the dancefloor. His golden-white armour shifted softly as he began to step in time to the song. It was one he had never heard before, but he understood just why Petra liked it so much.

The highs and lows reminded him of theatre troupes and epic tales coming to a conclusion. Faramund felt like he was about to witness the end of something important, and tragic. To his relief, their second dance proved to be neither, though it was a close call. 'I think some refreshments are in order,' Faramund said, bowing politely as he disentangled himself from Petra's arms. 'I recall you saying something about the quality of our host's wine, and how as much honoured guests, it was our duty to test it?'

Smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling -apparently- Fara took Petra's scaled hand in his own, turned to lead her away from the dancefloor. 'I suppose I should thank you,' he said, glancing over his shoulder as he navigated his way through the crowd. 'One dance with you and suddenly everyone believes I'm punching above my weight.' He paused. 'Or maybe it's the other way around? Huh...'

Petra Darthinian

 

[Reynard De Eramant]

Reynard was far enough away that the women's voices didn't travel far enough for him to hear. As tempting as it was to listen it, it would be rude and Gwynn deserved her privacy. Despite that he was watching the whole time. His job was to watch and protect and it only took imagining an assassination attempt on both the Princess and Queen Esmeralda at the same time for him to pay attention.

It wouldn't have been difficult to guess the topic of conversation even if he wasn't paying as much attention. He couldn't a few glances from the queen and one full of meaning for Gwynn. He didn't know what exactly they were talking about, but he was sure it involved him somehow.

It seemed their conversation had wrapped up, he caught one more glance from her as they made eye contact. Something was going on, he could tell, Confirmed even further as she broke the eye contact quickly and walked down towards the ballroom.

Reynard furrowed his brows, not incredibly excited to be unaware of the situation at hand but he'd just have to wait until Gwynn felt like telling him, IF she felt like telling him. This was turning out to be a fairly eventful ball. Reynard wasted no time in following behind Gwynn back into the ballroom. His gaze lingering on her in concern despite himself.

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Azlat's gaze narrowed as she heard the strange dragon speak of her home with accurate knowledge of it. That Norvyk knew of Thagretis was a mystery that only furthered her mistrust when she was already in short supply of it. Never could she forget the day a 'dragon' had visited her city, concealing violent intent beneath lies of diplomacy.

She'd lost her husband and her daughter that very same day.

Despite the aggressive front she put forth, inwardly Azlat was filled with terror. Borne of traumatic association with the events of two years prior. She held no doubt she was staring into the eyes of a monster who’d not hesitate to slaughter without warning, no matter how amicable he might presently appear. The Sky Elves might have welcomed him, but Azlat held no such misgivings. She’d not ever welcome the presence of a pretender.

She maintained her stalwart stance in the face of the alleged dragon before her. Her children were not present to be threatened, and she’d not flinch or flee. He was a fear to be faced, and she’d not back down.

“The por͝tal stones have opened. No long̀er are we confined to Malakath.” She replied, confrontational in her tone. It was a truth she wanted to drive in, lest Norvyk had any notions of imitating the assault of their aggressor. Thagretis now held the ability to project force beyond their borders. Hostility could be answered in kind, should the pretender before her turn hostile. Twisted by her own grief, Azlat assumed violence to be all he could truly understand.

“Nor did I expect to find a d̸ra͢gon conf́ined benea̡th a saddle this far fr͟om Thanasis.” Azlat retorted, head tilted up in a leer at Norvyk. Surely if he knew of Thagretis, he knew of Thanasis as well and Azlat wished to test this wisdom, and his disposition. That she knew nothing of him made his knowledge of her much more unnerving.

She’d not trust a pretender bearing such awareness. That lesson had been written in blood.

Petra Darthinian

 

[Petra Darthinian]

Despite the admirable endurance one needed to be a Knight, Petra still found herself slightly out of breath when their dance ended. But she suspected it was for reasons that she would prefer to analyze at a later date when she wasn't surrounded by dignitaries and her fellow retinue.

Instead, she swallowed the feelings. Swallowed the unnamed emotion that lodged in her throat when Faramund so casually grasped her hand. He seemed to do it without fear and without judgment. Where before when they danced, she had kept it squarely on his shoulder. Well, except for when she had... but we weren't thinking of that right now godsdammit. Still, she found herself blinking away the inklings of teary vulnerability before her friend could see them when he turned back to address her. Instead, she dared to squeeze his hand encouragingly in answer, noting the feeling of well-earned callouses across the palm. And by the time he had navigated them to the refreshment table, a festive mask was prepared and in its proper place to greet him with her normal coy quips when he turned to hand her another goblet of wine.

Except in her boldness, she stepped into him and plucked his drink from his hand and in the same motion shot it back while staring at him in mock challenge. "Ya know Faramund..." She now exchanged her empty goblet for the full one he had originally offered her. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're asking me to hit you." She took a more languid sip from her own glass this time, stepping back and tucking an arm under the bicep of the other, cocking a brow and a casual grin. "I can assure you, all you had to do was say please."

**********************************

(BACK ON THE PLATFORM)

The presence of nervy eagles kept the more physical snarl from Norvyk's mouth. But he could feel the retaliatory anger coiling like an angry serpent in his gut. He tried to keep those emotions from tainting the precious joy he could feel emanating on the fringes of his Rider's psyche. A boon to his indignation at the woman before him.

Instead, he rose from the ground, nostrils flaring as he took in the faint sourness of the fear she tried to hide. Absently, he admired her for her bravery. Not many had the gall, let alone the wit to throw verbal knives in the face of a dragon. And at that moment, she reminded him starkly of Petra and her indelible fire. That very fire that had led him to choose her to forge a sacred Harmonic bond with him. Something that had not been done for many generations amongst his kind. Even to this day, he had yet to divulge entirely to his Rider, what and how, and more importantly why their brand of kinship had resurfaced in the world once more. She was not ready, was the simplest answer.

But that didn't stop Norvyk from seeing the resemblance, which helped quench much of the venom in his voice that he had wanted to spit at this stranger when he answered back, "As a Priestess, you are familiar with dragons, yes?" He took a prowling step forward. "But your ignorance shows." Another step forward, his talons flexing into the platform floor. "You who come from a place where dragons have regressed to mere beasts of burden." His wings twitched in agitation, the scorn growing within him. "No spoken language among them. Pedestaled as gods, and yet pray tell what doctrine did they hand down that left some of you so deplorably prostrated and on your knees?" He stopped when he found himself finally looking down into the leer of the woman beneath him, dropping his voice to an intense rumble. "I implore you to put your hubris to bed. For you say confined as if it is dirty, and yet, which dragons live still within a cage?"

Faramund Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

"As a Priestess, you are familiar with dragons, yes?" Asked the pretender, his tone as pointed and confrontational as hers had been.

“I am an or͡dained and educated a͠uthority on dragons.” Azlat retorted. To taunt a dragon was dangerous, Azlat was well aware. She was also aware that armed guards surrounded them, providing the very discouragement towards physical conflict they'd been deployed for. If Azlat could not look this pretender in the eye under conditions so favourable, she'd not have any chance should she encounter the gargantuan pretender who'd slain her daughter.

"You who come from a place where dragons have regressed to mere beasts of burden." Norvyk added, as if Azlat had anything to do with it.

“...What’s your quar̷rel? Do you think we wa̶nted those Thanasian barbarians for n͞eighbours?” Azlat retorted, disdain clear was in her tone. The two cities did not get along, and theological differences was but one of many reasons.

"No spoken language among them. Pedestaled as gods, and yet pray tell what doctrine did they hand down that left some of you prostrated and on your knees?" Asked Norvyk.

“I couldn't tell you what tr͢͟ipe those pagans call doctrine.” Azlat snapped back in response. Whatever they believed in, they were wrong. Her scripture had said so.

"I implore you to put your hubris to bed. For you say confined as if it is dirty, and yet, which dragons live still within a cage?" Norvyk added, and Azlat paused in confusion.

“...The Th͡anasian beasts? What q́uiz is this? Why does Than͠asis interest you so mųch? Those aren't our cages. Those aren't ev͟en real dragons. They're not even pret̶enders.” Azlat scoffed. She knew not what Thanasian teachings had to say, but Thagretan scripture was very particular about what defined a dragon. The definition was no doubt at odds with that of the northerners, including most who identified as a 'true' dragon. Not all that took draconian form were holy, and the Thagretans deemed those that weren't yet claimed to be dragons as pretenders. Thanasian dragons made no such claims, as they uttered no words at all.

“...What's yo͢ur issue?” Azlat asked, her fearful anger turning to utter confusion. She'd realized they were arguing – she just had no idea what they were arguing about.

Petra Darthinian