Fate - First Reply A Gorilla In A Suit

[Edric]

Oban - The Kings Palace

This was, by far, the fucking dumbest idea that Edric had ever encountered in his entire decade at the Academy.

There were a dozen Initiates who could have done a better job than him. Who could have blended into this city better, who could have actually found a place within the wealth and splendor of this party. He was without a doubt the most ill-fitting and offputting figure within this entire party. A soldier placed into a well fitting suit.

Edric was entirely sure that anyone looking at him knew that he didn't belong.

He was supposed to be blending in. Supposed to be guarding the Sister of the Queen of Vel Anir herself.

A figure important enough that most Anirians would have balked at the thought of losing her. A woman who held not only respect, but the utter love of the people. She was kind, caring, and passionate of the people. A true mark of what the Royal family was supposed to be, a woman who was oft outspoken, and who loved her nieces and nephews beyond all else.

That was whom he was here to protect.

That was whom had seen him stuffed in the most regal of clothing. Having him stand on the edges of the party like...like a doll dressed up to be played with., manipulated and shifted as she nee-

"And who might you be, my Lord. I do not believe I've seen you before..."

A rather plump woman approached him, her face as plump as an apple and her features as pleasant as pie. She peered at Edric with the innocence of a child, as though he might hold some untold secret. The Initiate scowled, at least for a brief moment, and then drew his expression into a tight smile. "Edric, My lady."

He said gruffly.

"A guest to Duchess Lyrienth." The woman let out a chuckle, smiling as she fluttered a fan.

"Oh! quite a guest indeed then."​

She said, her smile turning wicked.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

This was, perhaps, one of the oddest requests Elspeth Sirl had fielded in quite some time...

To be an escort.

She wasn't entirely sure if she should be honored or offended, but at the end of the day Elspeth was an acquaintance to the Queen's sister, Lyrienth, and quite schooled in the ways of courtly affairs. Plus, she'd traveled to Oban on several occasions previously - it made her a prime option where a sense of decorum and propriety were required.

Keep the boy in line and apprised of the behavior expected of him while in the presence of the Court Nobles and Royal family, they'd told her. Under no circumstances is he to be out of your sight.

Dressed for the part, Edric was not the only one sporting a different look today. He'd met her first in Wissburg where she'd been hiding as a barmaid in the wardrobe of nothing more than plainsclothes. Today she accompanied him as the picture of Anirian noble perfection, with her scars and freckles well hidden behind expertly applied makeup and not a lash or hair out of place. When she approached Edric, her gaze shifted from him to the Lady addressing the Initiate and a sharp smile implanted itself on her own face.

"Lady Ismet," she greeted the elder, portly woman, "aren't you looking radiant. You've changed your hair since last we spoke - you must tell me later who your hairdresser is. I should like to introduce some Obanese style into Vel Anir society."

 

[Edric]

Lady Ismeth seemed to practically beam under the attentions of the other Anirian into the room. A hand came up to fluff her hair, a smile pulled so tightly at her cheeks that her teeth practically shone with light. She looked at the two Anirians, more than glad for their company.

"It is wonderful isn't it!"​

There was no question to the woman's words.

"Tallinor Galdreth is his name, I should really have him Knighted for the work he does. His fingers are worth half the kingdom. Trust me."​

A delighted smile crossed the woman's lips, followed closely by a wink which seemed entirely directed at Elspeth alone.

Edric glanced over towards his companion, as though he was not entirely sure what in the fuck was going on. Lips thinned for a brief moment, and he was about to open his mouth to say something when Lady Ismeth continued.

"Are you two betrothed? You make quite the striking couple. The intensity of your hair matched with that gaze!"​

The woman looked at Edric.

"Mmm. Such deliciousness! You would make wonderful babies, I am sure of it."
​

Edric practically choked on the air in his lungs. Even Maui hadn't been this bold. Who the fuck did this woman think she was?

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

"You don't say..." Elspeth raised a brow at the Lady, a bright hint of intrigue shaping the arch at the mention of Tallinor Galdreth and his prized fingers. Elsi was certain she understood what the woman was hinting at and so offered the woman a coy half smirk, which did not falter at all despite the next words to leave Ismeth's mouth.

Where Edric choked and froze, Elsi drew a critical eye from her regal composure, "That is too bold," she remarked to the Lady in a flat tone, "I am betrothed to Olvir Weiroon, as you may recall from our last parley." There was gossip among the Court that the betrothal had been called off following the Revolution, but the truth of the matter remained relatively unknown. Not even Elspeth was certain of its status anymore, and until the words the betrothal is off were spoken by her own father, she had to believe it was simply on hold.

"Edric is Olvir's friend," she lied, moving to take Ed's arm with both gloved hands, "and has graciously agreed to accompany me here for the Oban King's fete in Olvir's stead, as he is detained by other matters."

Her prim smile was practiced as she stared Lady Ismeth down, daring her to speak folly again, but her gaze did break to look up at Ed and the smile softened somewhat, "But the Lady Ismeth isn't wrong, you do have rather fetching eyes." A breath and that charming smile turned back to Ismeth, "It was wonderful to see you again, perhaps I will catch you at tea later on. I did promise the Governess I wouldn't keep her waiting. So we must be moving on..."

 

[Edric]

"Ahhh, of course of course! How could I forget young Olvir. You're lucky to have such a friend Ser Edric!"​

Edric had never once met Olvir in his entire life, didn't even know who he was. Aside from the name Weiroon.

"Will he be your champion in the tournament as well? I am positively thrilled by this years contestants. Bulky men fighting with whatever is at hand....mmm, practically a quivering thought isn't it?"​

The woman looked almost wistful, as though she were trying to conjure some long thought. Her eyes seemed almost displaced, though they were trained directly on Edric. The young Initiate frowned, feeling as though he were being stared at by some sort of predator.

"I must say tha-"​

Before Lady Ismet could say something else Elspeth interrupted her, or rather, she realized that Elspeth was talking in the first place.

Her smile didn't falter once, though Edric's expression certainly slipped as Elspeth wrapped herself around his arm and complemented his eyes. Once again he found words dying on his tongue, and he only stiffened as he took in a breath.

"Of course of course! I'll have my Ladies set something up! Do give my regards to the Governess."​

Lady Ismet said, beaming as she stepped away, as though entirely oblivious she might have offered any insult what so ever.

Edric glanced over his shoulder, then looked at Elspeth. "I have no idea what just happened."

The Initiate said, his tone flat.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

"That is-" Elspeth's eyes followed the bloviating woman as she bounced away, off to harass the next unsuspecting Lord or Ser, "probably for the best."

Wasn't every day a Dreadlord Initiate on the cusp of graduation was looked at like a piece of meat, she supposed. "The Governess is moving on to the next room," Elspeth turned to find her and her cadre of followers buffeting through the crowds toward the large eastern hall, "we must keep up." Patting Edric on the forearm, she nodded for him to take the lead and followed at his arm.

The Lady Lyrienth was quite the social butterfly and ever so much more engaged with the Courts than herself, but they had bonded tremendously over a shared care for the people and desire to effect change for the better in Vel Anir. To the absolute chagrin of her father the Lord Sirl, no doubt. Elspeth smiled warmly as she passed by familiar faces, nodded and issuing quiet hellos along the way. Though she did not grace society often, she had apparently left quite the impression.

The white sheep of House Sirl, a lamb among wolves so they called her.

"I don't suppose you are often dressed in such finery," a quiet remark to him as they shadowed the Governess while she slowly made her way through the social masses, "though I thought I heard rumor the Academy put on a ball not too long ago..."

 

[Edric]

In all honesty, Edric had never felt more like a fool than he did at a gathering like this. He had come along way in many things. Strategy, history, an understanding even if literature.

Since his missions with Kristen, Noel, and even Eleanor he had studied hard to better understand...well everything. He'd ignored it for so long, thought it useless, that it would take him years to catch-up. Still though, he'd made progress, leaps and bounds even. Some of the newer Proctors had even mentioned it to him in compliment.

Yet despite that, he still felt like a simpleton among these people.

The way they spoke to one another. The lies hidden behind every other word. It was just like that dinner with Kristen and Liliana's sister. There was something behind a veil here, and Edric for the life of him could not see past it. A frustration that he could hardly stand.

He could kill everyone in this room, he knew that, and yet he still felt like a lamb among wolves.

"Yes, we did." Edric said with a nod of his head. "And that ended with blood, screaming, and more than a few angry Initiates."

He remarked dryly, still remembering the cut of Noel's voice. The anger in Sable and Mel's voice. He  still didn't think he'd done anything wrong. "Let's hope this party isn't like a Dreadlord one."

Edric said in something that could almost be perceived as a joke.

As they stepped into the next room they found the Governess speaking with a gaggle of men. Two of them dressed in finery like all others, but a third in spendid armor that must have cost a fortune. As Edric and Elspeth roamed closed they would hear parts of the conversation.

"The King is of course delighted to have you here madame, it is so rare now we get visits from other Royals. Tensions with Dornoch you see. Will you be staying for the tournament?"​

The man in armor was speaking, he was around Edric's age, though a few years older perhaps. The sword on his hip carried like an old friend.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Blood, screaming, and angry Initiates? Elspeth blinked in disbelief, her lips parting as her mouth hung slightly open for the want to speak but finding rather few words to say.

"I...should say not," she responded finally, giving Edric a mild look of concern, "compared to that these events are exceptionally boring." For her, at least. With so much more she could be doing, Elsi knew her time was completely better spent elsewhere; elbows deep in whatever dirt her current mission or humanitarian effort brought her. "It's a show of estate and clout, posturing for better standing, seeding rumors and lies about others... a lot of talking and underhanded deals among the Courtiers."

Though from time to time, someone of import or note did attend these galas. Someone that could help her in her endeavors and provide support in places of need. Elsi had looked over the list of those in attendance for the King's Fete and found it to be rather lacking. She wouldn't have attended at all were it not for Lady Lyrienth. For her? She was happy to spend a few days away from her duties. At least Edric had proven to be decent company - compared to how things had gone in Wissburg he was an entirely different person.

Perhaps it was the suit.

As they neared to the Governess, Elsi grew quiet to listen in on the conversation. Not necessarily to eavesdrop, but to find a good opportunity to step in and make herself known to Lyrienth. However the mention of tensions with Dornoch gave her pause.

"Odd," her brow furrowed as she considered the sentence. There had not been tensions between Dornoch and Oban when last she was there several months ago. What had happened since? Hm. "Let's move closer, I'll introduce you. What's your surname?"

 

[Edric]

Edric listened carefully to the instruction Elspeth offered.

In all truth it did not sound too dissimilar from many of the Dreadlord gatherings that were spoken of. Not the galas thrown by the Proctors, but those stories get-togethers held by long time graduated in days of old. Clout, standing, rumors and lies.

It appeared that politics was not much different than the dealings of those who had graduated the Academy.

Edric knew that he shouldn't have been surprised, and yet a part of him still was.

A frown touched his face, only deepened when Elspeth asked for his surname. Lips pressed to a thin line, and slowly he shook his head. "I don't have one."

He told her simply.

"Well." Edric said, more truthfully. "I don't remember my parents'."

Few Dreadlord's did. "And the Proctors never thought it was all that important."

Nor had he, in all honesty.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

"You don't..." Elsi turned her full attention to him, expression fallen to a faint frown of apologetic concern. How awful? To not remember his parents. This startling truth spoken from the lips of an Academy student was enough to waylay any momentary trepidation with the gala to highlight just how very little she actually knew about the rearing of the Initiates at the Dreadlord Academy.

It was known they did not lead easy lives. They were tested and trained from day one to become the weapons and shields Vel Anir needed to stay prosperous and safe. She supposed that she, like most others, had given this very little thought at all beyond the face value of it.

Did that mean Elias didn't remember his parents either? His magic had manifested quite young, but even Elsi remembered him somewhat from their childhood.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, giving his arm a squeeze, "I didn't mean to ... uhm, it ... it's no big matter."

"Just be sure to bow," Elsi added as she straightened herself again, moved them both a few steps closer to the circle, and gently cleared her throat at an opportunity between conversations.

"Ah! Lady Elspeth," the Governess' expression brightened to see her familiar face and she turned to greet the pair with poised excitement, "you're here, how wonderful. I was so hoping you would come."

"My Lady," Elsi smiled and demured before the Governess, dipping into an elegant curtsy at Edric's side, "I was delighted for your invitation to join you. It has been so long since I've visited Oban."

"It is delightful, is it not?" Lyrienth beamed and gestured about her before looking to Elsi and the young man at her side, "And who is this? Not the young Lord Olvir I don't think?"

"No, this is his friend Edric," a warm smile turned up at him as Elsi settled back at his arm and side, "Olvir had some pressing matters he could not get away from. Edric graciously agreed to accompany me in his stead."

"A gentleman then," the Governess replied, "lovely to meet you. Any friend to the Lady Elspeth is welcome company. Have you visited Oban before, Edric?"

 

[Edric]

A part of him wondered why Elspeth was so surprised. The Academy had never much cared for decorum, had never claimed to produce anything but weapons. In the back of his mind he might have caught that she was worried for Eli, that she was concerned for the state of her brothers mind. But that spark never quite struck.

To him, Edric was name enough. He did not need his fathers, or some made up drivel.

As they approached the Governess the young Initiate kept his face impassive, but offered a deep bow in concert with Elspeth. A small smile touched the edges of his lips, an attempt to keep his expression a bit more cheerful than the usual smile. It was an attempt that faltered when Edric was asked about his visits to Oban.

Almost as soon as the Governess asked her questions a flash of memory ruptured through his mind.

He could remember being fifteen. Noel at his side, Dreadlord Vlora leading them. A family slaughtered. A house burned down. No explanation given. No questions asked.

"No." Edric answered, the lie slipping from his tongue as he eased the sad attempt at a smile back on his face. "This is my first time, Your Grace."

He continued, glancing at the hall around them. "It is very...lavish."

A small chuckle escaped the Governess' lips in retort.

"Yes, yes I suppose it is. The good King does enjoy his parties. Do you two intend on participating in the games? I know for us Anirians it's uncouth, but Oban does have it's more...amusing traditions."
​

Edric flickered a very weary glance over towards Elspeth, having no idea what the woman was talking about.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Oh dear. She was hoping to avoid that question altogether. Elspeth's smile wilted visibly, much to Lyrienth's chagrin. The Governess was well aware of the young woman's more serious and mature nature - that such frivolous and silly things were not part of her social repertoire.

"Oh do say yes," the Governess pressed, almost pleaded, "you wouldn't let your Governess play the fool all by herself, would you?"

Elspeth sighed with contained misery, "No of course not, My Lady, I wouldn't dream of it."

"Fabulous!" Lyrienth chirped with a single clap of her hands, "Be sure to do the King's Waltz, I've signed up with Lord Adimir and we're the only Anirians on the card."

"I will be sure to look for it," Elsi replied, "where do they have the sign-ups?"

"Just down there," Lyrienth pointed with her folded fan, "at the end of the hall. Meet me in the courtyard when you're finished? There's someone I want to introduce you to."

Oh - well there was a bright turn on a rather shady day. Anyone introduced by the Governess was surely worth the time. With a nod and a smaller curtsy (and a nudge to Ed to remind him to bow) she excused them from the circle and headed off down the hall to the aforementioned festivities sign-up. There they found a long table with several gilded chalk boards, each with a title and spaces for names beneath.

Elspeth, unsmiling, firmly pressed her lips together in stubborn discontentment then glanced up at Edric, "Well it begs be asked: can you dance?"

 

[Edric]

Edric was still half sure that this was some sort of elaborate prank that was being played on him.

It was as though someone had discovered his worst nightmares and balled them all into the same place. Every word the Governess said shoved him further into an uncomfortable corner, a position that he thought his companion oddly enough shared.

He bowed when the time was proper, pressed on by the gentle reminder of Elspeth's elbow into his side.

A part of him wanted to speak up then. Suggest that he and Elspeth could simply leave, but he knew it wasn't possible. He was here to protect the Governess. See that no one ended up killing her. Leaving was not a choice. Not if he wanted to go back to Vel Anir and the others.

So once more he swallowed his pride, walking along with the lamb of House Sirl until they reached the sign up boards. All together there were seven events, a single man standing by the table. Edric frowned, glancing at the chalk boards. "I've been told I have very sure feet."

He remarked dryly, his eyes flickering over the boards.

Each event was marked in red colored chalk.

'The King's Waltz', 'The King's Tournament', 'The Queen's Culinary Contest', 'The Prince's Race', 'The King's Puzzle', 'The Courts Maze', and finally; 'The King's Hunt'.

Edric stared at the boards, his lips thin as he tried to decipher just what any of these actually were. Before he could ask however a man as slimy as an ooze stepped up to the unexpected couple. His hair slicked back, his face plastered with a smile that would have made a second-hand horse salesman jealous.

"Looking to enter the games, eh? Tough competition this year. Will really be quite the show, I expect. Need to win four for the grand prize of course, but I expect you won't even get one. Not with me and my darling Penelope already signed up for all of them. Going for the clean sweep this year, you see. Might as well not even sign up."
​

He chuckled, as if he'd told some wonderful joke.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

It wasn't like her to cling to any person, but Elspeth found herself firmly wedged into a state of near oppressive annoyance and, frankly, keeping hold of Edric's arm was preventing her from making a scene. She stood there beside him, eyes flickering across the various boards and the names found scrawled in chalk, and wanted to knock them all over. A deep frown implanted itself onto her lips at his response.

Somehow she wasn't exactly reassured.

Oh this was disaster.

Taking a breath, she leaned to say something but was cut short by the arrival of the greasy-weasel she knew to be Lord Featherington. Her expression immediately soured. Her hands tightened around Edric's arm.

We are in public, Elsi. We are a Lady, Elsi. We do not spit in people's faces, Elsi.

But for this man she might have made an exception were the Governess not in attendance. Her expression milled through a circus of varying degrees of loathing before she discovered how to make loathing smile, "Lord Featherington, as competitive as always I see. Ahaaa...." The more things changed the more they stayed the same...

She watched him go with her jaw clenched and once he was out of sight immediately removed herself from Edric's side and began to furiously sign them up for all the challenges.

"What can you cook?" she hissed at him over her shoulder.

 

[Edric]

"I-" Be.fore Edric could issue a single objection or fact of his own skill Elspeth had already signed them up for three of the challenges.

Her fingers flittered over the chalk boards so quickly one might have thought her a Dreadlord. "I can make..."

The words died on his tongue as she skipped to yet another of the boards, signing them up for the Prince's Race with reckless abandon.

He didn't even know what half of these challenges were, what they would mean. What they would have to do to win a single one of them. In the pit of his stomach he felt a ball form, the weigh crashing down on him like a stone.

"Beans." He finished as Elspeth moved onto the fourth board. "And eggs."

Cooking hadn't exactly been covered at the Academy. "And, Noel showed me how to make bread once."

Edric added desperately, as though it might help the chaos his date was adding to the situation.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Elspeth scrawled their names onto the fifth and final board then set the chalk piece down with a huff, realizing only after it rolled off the platform that she'd nearly worn it down to a nub. Whoops. Clapping her hands together to brush the powder away, she turned back to find Edric looking as though he'd just found out his puppy had been run over by an errant carriage. He looked quite pale.

Had she done that? Whoops.

"Ah - not to worry," yes, seems her father's fiery competitive nature hadn't only been passed on to her brother. Elsi stepped to Edric's front and collected his hands in her own, "leave the cooking to me." A firm squeeze of his fingers and she mustered up her sense of place again, fixing a determined smile up at the Initiate, "You're soon to be a Dreadlord, top of your class, you can do anything."

A quick glance around his shoulder and she spied the Governess out through the large floor-to-ceiling glass bay windows overlooking the courtyard. Shit, they'd let the woman out of their sight.

"They're not difficult games. The most challenging part of them is usually how drunk the contestants are..." that was also the most entertaining part, but Elsi had only ever been an observer before. She'd never played them herself... but the Governess was on the move again and she strained to keep her in sight, "Damnit, we have to keep up with that woman. Come, I'll explain the challenges out in the courtyard."

 

[Edric]

"...You can do anything."​

A frown touched his lips, not entirely sure that he had ever heard anyone say something like that to him. An odd flicker of emotion jolting through his chest as she spoke the words.

Quickly forgotten as Elspeth pointed out the fleeing Governess.

Shit. Edric thought, realizing that he was being a terrible fucking bodyguard. Quickly he moved alongside Elspeth as the two of them made their way through the Gala and into the courtyard beyond.

Much like the inside of the palace, the outside was lavish as could be.

Hedges neatly trimmed into statuesque figures. Fountains flowing with crystal clear water. Servants plying the guests with drinks and small bits of good. The Governess was now standing besides one of the larger fountains, chatting away with a wide smile. "I've met assassins less slippery than her."

Edric remarked quietly, frowning as he watched the woman speak to her companions.

At least as long as they were in the same competition the Governess would have to stay close.

"Which challenge is first?" He asked, glancing down at Elspeth.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

She was doing her utter best to move with haste whilst still conducting herself in a manner befitting a woman of her station. Quick and hurried strides between contained and dainty steps when passing by other nobles. By the time they made it out into the clearing she was already regretting her choice of whalebone bodice corset beneath her dress. When Edric finally had the Governess in his sight again, Elsi hobbled to a stop by a statue. One hand firmly planted on the bare thigh of a finely carved, very naked, God of Winds.

There she keeled, cheeks puffed at the sudden onset of a stabbing cramp in her strained lungs, and cringed up at Ed as he mentioned assassins (her eyes bugged incredulously beneath furrowed brows, w h a t?) and then just as casually switched to the festivity challenges.

Elspeth held up a hand with one finger, asking for a moment to knead the twinge from her ribs and mentally digest what just came out of his mouth, "Oh-ffff- the culinary contest is first. What wins depends entirely on who is judging. If it's Lady Fallegree, I'll make a cake. If it's Lord Oswalt, I'll-" another slow puff of breath as she straightened herself slowly, "make a goat cheese quiche," she waved a hand lazily with one final pull of air into her lungs, "he's a vegetarian."

 

[Edric]

Edric stared down at Elspeth with a look of mild concern. Wondering if she was about to pass out, and deciding that If the Prince's Race was an actual race there was no way in hell she would be running it.

His brow furrowed as she gave her explanation.

A cake made sense. Everyone liked cake. At the Academy they had rarely received treats, well, more like never. But on missions it was common for Initiates to find themselves in all manner of places they shouldn't technically be. Bakeries were often on the list, as were brothels and alehouses.

It was what Elspeth said about the other man that confused him.

"Vegetarian?" The concept, to Edric, was utterly ridiculous. He'd never heard of such a thing all his life.

And what the hell was a Keesh?

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Blowing out her cheeks, Elspeth righted herself with a slow breath and delicately smoothed her dress. Cramp having subsided, it was the question that left the Initiate next that nearly floored her.

"Yes," she said with an abashed blink, "vegetarian. He doesn't eat meat. He's allergic ... or eccentric. Honestly I'm not sure there's much of a difference between the two in his case."

Her gaze traipsed past him and over to the Governess where she stood engaged in conversation with nearly half a dozen people. Elspeth couldn't see their faces from where she stood, but for the moment she looked perfectly fine. Good. Now she could explain the rest of the challenges.

"So," Elsi began, realizing only now that the statue they both stood beside afforded them a full-frontal view of the God's granite package. Red took her cheeks at the sight and with widened eyes, she decided finding a different place to stand was very appropriate.

"The King's Waltz is fairly straight forward. It is your standard Marble Hall Waltz, with a twist. The couples must be prepared to stop, frozen mid-stride, whenever the music stops. Anyone who is caught moving is disqualified. As the challenge stretches on, the music will also pick up in speed, so it's quite difficult to keep up without stumbling and then stop cleanly at the drop of a hat."

 

[Edric]

Edric's eyes gazed over Elsepth's shoulder as she spoke. His eyes were entirely on the reflection of the Governess in a silvery plate of a statues armor that had been clearly polished beyond all real use.

Despite his split attention though he listened to every word that his companion said.

The thought of a 'vegetarian' not eating meat because of his eccentricities seemed utterly ridiculous to him. Like a child fussing over his meal because it might not like it's flavor. The Academy would never stand for such a thing.

Back home you ate what you were served, no matter what it was, no matter the maggots crawling throughout it. No one questioned the food served, not if they wanted to stave off a beating. "So he weakens himself."

Edric commented bluntly.

"He will regret this as the games go on." The body needed protein, energy. Meat was essential to that. That much even Edric knew.

His lips thinned as she continued to describe the challenge.

"We were beaten and broken to keep in check. A single word was enough." Edric said flatly. "I'll make sure we follow the music."

The tone of his voice showed he was more than ready.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Elspeth Sirl stared at the Dreadlord Initiate.

Fluttered a blink of disbelief at his words. Then decided that, no, it wasn't really worth pursuing the time to educate him on appropriate discussion in the presence of nobles. Or that Lord Oswalt wasn't partaking in the challenges, merely acting as judge, so his diet was of little consequence.

"Yes, well," she gently cleared her throat, "good. Do you know the Marble Hall Waltz? We have time enough before the first contest for me to teach it to you."

 

[Edric]

Edric did not know what The Marble Hall Waltz was, nor why it was named after what he assumed was a building. "No, I don't know it."

He answered quickly.

"What Sword form is it closest to?" Edric asked, as though Elspeth would immediately know.

That was how Proctor Pallatrix had explained dancing to him and some of the others. Thinking of the moves as sword forms, the practices steps, the motions of the body. Equating it to the movement of two men locked into a duel.

It had worked wonders for some of them. Including Edric.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

She stood, unsurprised, as he admitted to not knowing the dance. What did surprise her was his response.

Another flurry of blinks, "I-" Elspeth's brow pinched in mild perturbance. Was he having a go at her? Surely he was having a go. He might not have known who she was or the significance of her name, but surely what she was allowed him the knowledge that the majority of noble women were not taught such things.

Yet the moments waned on and he did not smile. All business, that one. Her lips pressed together, forming a thin line, and she shook her head, "I don't know sword forms. Just - give me your hands."

They were in a pocket of the courtyard that was otherwise unoccupied. Plenty of space to execute the steps while keeping a close eye on the Governess. Elsi took his hands and placed one at her waist, just above her hip, and held the other cupped in her own, raising it up. Drawing herself to his front, she lifted her free hand to rest along his upper arm.

"So," Elsi donned her charming smile once more, "it goes like this."

A twenty-minute crash course Marble Hall waltz session montage ensued.

 

[Edric]

An odd sort of flicker ran through him as Elspeth suddenly drew herself against him. He stiffened. Though not embarrassment, not shame or any notion of modesty, but a strange remembrance of something in the back of his mind. A lesson long ago taught about the place of Dreadlords, and the nobility that stood above them.

Kristen is a noble. He reminded himself internally. And you beat her half to death.

The thought seemed to relax him, and quickly he fell into the lesson.

As it turned out, the dance was similar to a sword form. Not quite the same, but close. The flow of it was similar. How they had to take practiced patient steps, how they moved and fell in line with each other. It reminded him of the Form of the Crane.

It was a mirror of what the Proctors had told the Initiates, how it should look. Work. Ornate, beautiful, and yet utterly deadly.

There were steps, counter-steps, and even small flourishes that echoed in the way Elspeth was subtly moving and shifting him as she taught the dance. Edric had never been much for forms, never needing much beyond sheer brutality to win any bout. The Crane had seemed outlandish, ostentatious, and useless to him.

Yet he took to Elspeth's listen notably quickly, flickering reminders of his lessons at the Academy echoing in his mind as she would purposefully shift him or nudge him into the proper step.