Dreadlords Dance for all that we've been through

[Trix]

The violinist drew her bow across the neck giving one long, haunting note; the band were ready, they merely waited on the students to gather their courage.

Trix twirled to face her partner with a crooked smile.

"If your parents are anything like mine, as soon as you're out of this place they will have you enrolled in the How to be a Noble 101 class straight away," she drawled, glancing down the line of students either side of them. She could just make out her Cousin up near the front and there was Evie looking as though she might throw up on her partner. Excellent. She turned her attentions back to the lad before her whilst they waited. "Apologies for interrupting you and your date, I don't think your Proctor really counted on any of you actually managing to secure yourselves a date without his help," said Proctor was still on stage waving his arms encouragingly at the students most reluctant to take to the dance floor.

"Lady Crentor, right?" For even though she had appeared not to pay much attention to the initiates she had noted every face that had come and gone from the hall. There was a reason she was with the unit she was, after all.

Caeso Diemut​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Rowley came highly recommended by Livia, it seemed. How much of an impact the partner with whom she had been assigned, Leander Urahil, shaped her opinion, Kristen couldn't know. But...she did know something of Leander's reputation—how could one not? It made a stunning amount of sense that Livia would openly lament her lot. Her ear might just fall off tonight weathering the incessant boasting from the Urahil Initiate.

Encouragingly, Kristen said to her, "I shan't keep him long."

Rowley Stone, then. Kristen appreciated the compliment and the gentlemanly gesture of kissing her hand. Rowley was one of those Initiates she had seen around and about the Academy, always merely in passing and never truly having any chance to become acquainted in any measure. With Livia's glowing appraisal, any fears Kristen might have that Rowley was secretly a Charon or an Ignatius were alleviated, and she felt quite comfortable in taking his arm.

Let us make the whole hall jealous. Shall we?

"Well...perhaps not the whole Hall," she said, still offering a smile. As they walked she said further, "Livia seems charmed enough by your character. Have you perhaps known her long, or is this your first true meeting with her?"

Rowley Stone Livia Quinnick

 

[Caeso Diemut]

...they will have you enrolled in the How to be a Noble 101 class straight away.

"I would welcome such a thing," Caeso said. Though he was devoted to his rightful, traditional place here in the Academy, owing to his gift of magic, still he had to be frank: he did indeed feel, despite his father's correspondences, as though he missed a great amount of development in the proper conduct of a nobleman. Did not this very Dance bring said lack to the fore?

Lady Crentor, right?

"The very same." He couldn't help a small glance Alice's way to see how she was faring. Miraculously, it seemed as though Carter was in fact behaving himself. Though hopefully he didn't step on Alice's feet too many times. And, for that matter, hopefully Caeso himself didn't step on Trix's feet too many times. To his credit, the practice he had done with Lumen during the Friendsgiving saw no such inept mistakes occur.

He looked back to Trix. "I must make considerations for my future, what with my time here at the Academy soon to come to a close. And in this regard my father has been helpful."

Trix

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh blanched for a moment when her name was called, looking at the three dreadlords around her as if to see if they thought a mistake had been made as well. She looked down at her attire. She was working tonight— there was a hierarchy among the proctors and no one ever volunteered except seemingly Evangeline D’Amour and regardless of Everleigh’s wishes, she had just been told to “dress prepared”— and so she didn’t think of wearing a dress.

The two she had no longer fit or didn’t fit the occasion. The dress she had worn for the Festival of Freedom would fit the best, but the design was clearly for outdoors and summertime. The dress that had been generously gifted to her for her mission in Alliria with Liliana wouldn’t fit her now without ripping a seam or two as she was no longer the size she was two years ago.

Besides, this dance wasn’t for her, it was for them. So she had dressed accordingly: a suitable uniform of pressed well-fitted black slacks and white dress shirt with her long violet hair braided as usual. Honestly, she felt bad for Alistair to be paired up with her when he was chatting with Kristen who was dressed appropriately and— why did the two of them look at each other that way?

It was a look she instantly recognized. A look that could only be shared by those that believed in nothing more than each other together. Everleigh swallowed back that pang of loneliness and moved away from the punch bowl, meeting Alistair halfway. She hadn’t realized her hands had turned into fists until she was supposed to take his hand.

“How could I say no?” When she looked up at her old classmate she was grinning, eyes dancing with mirth and mischief that were undeniably Everleigh. “Don’t do anything silly and kiss it,” she jerked her head over to a pair that had done just that, “I have a reputation to uphold.” With a playful flourish of her free hand she undid the first two buttons of her shirt it as if she were being scandalous before pretending to hold out an imaginary skirt like she’d trip on it as they went to the dance floor.

“I’ve been meaning to write you a letter, Alistair.” Everleigh said as she eyed those who seemed the most confident. Surprisingly, out of everyone here, it was Kristen who looked the most at ease. “About a rune. One that’s able to keep a Nordenfiir from using their svalen.” There was a pause. “Keeping them from turning into a bear.” It wasn’t too far fetched to believe he’d be unaware of such a word as she had been.

“I can make it worthwhile. In fact, I can even deliver a suitable return for your help tonight.” She said as she adjusted both her and Alistair’s stances, her hand in his. She was still grinning, a devilish gleam in her eyes as she inclined her chin towards him. “Just say yes now, I promise you won’t regret it.”

Alistair Krixus

 

[Leander Urahil]

Ivan spoke but Leander wouldn’t look back at him. He hadn’t addressed him and while some small part of him appreciated Ivan coming to his sister’s defense (that’s what men were supposed to do for their woman, it was only right and natural to defend a lady’s honor) a bigger part of him wanted to tell him to shut up and let Odessa explain herself. Before she even could— if she would have— an announcement was made.

As if the night couldn’t get any worse! Leander’s jaw was clenched so tightly that he was surprised he hadn’t grounded his teeth to dust yet. While in the suit no one could see the taut flex of his muscles as he seemed to hover over Odessa, but there was a telltale cord of irritation in his neck that was visible for all to gaze upon.

Leander didn’t look back at Ivan and his jab. Nostrils flared and Leander did try to regain his composure. He hated the fact that whenever Felix had to speak to him it always put him in a bad mood. Even with his older brother being miles upon miles away from him, he still had that suffocating hold on him. His brother, and this Academy, made Leander want to kill things sometimes.

Leander wished he could get another mission like he had with Soleil. Killing the elves had been just the right amount of stress relief he needed. Maybe he could try bribing a proctor? He had heard that one proctor had a thing for blondes. Which one was it again?

“Urahil! Your dance partner! Hurry it up!” Leander scowled, although he hid it by keeping his head low. It wasn’t something he could do for long but it gave him the seconds he needed to fix his face before he raised his head again. It was easy to spot Quinnick, especially with everyone already pairing off. He should’ve felt guilty for making her wait around for him, and perhaps a part of him would later.

Leander stomped towards his dance partner, aggressively fixing things on his suit jacket that didn’t need to be fixed before he was standing in front of her. His pale gaze looked her up and down, assessing her as if he could refuse the demands of the proctors and say she was unsuitable to dance with.

But even Leander knew that wasn’t true.

He bowed slightly towards her. “Lady Livia, may I have the honor of taking your hand for the first dance of the night?” He wanted to add in only somewhere in there, but he was certain that Quinnick would pick up on his intentions. Leander Urahil didn’t want to dance like a silly puppet after feeling like he had failed the written exams and Felix was about to dump more bad news on him.

Knowing that Livia couldn’t refuse, Leander held out his left hand, glowering down at her as if she were the sole cause of all of his current miseries.

Livia Quinnick

 

[Zaire]

He tried to keep his eyes wide open, willing them to look normal, but it was all for nothing. Zaire could barely see Silas’ face other than a small and blurry horizontal sliver of his mouth. He couldn’t even keep his own eyes open, could he? Zaire thought he was fucked. Sideways. In the ass. With a splintery wooden broom.

His gaze moved up from the man’s lips to his eyes. Silas was giving him that look, the one that made Zaire’s skin crawl. Like making a deal with the fae, and wouldn’t Zaire know a lot about that? Yeah, just another deal to make, what could go wrong? Should he confess? Maybe if he said he was a little high instead of super high it could be looked over?

His face felt hot but his hands were completely clammy and somehow, somehow, Zaire laughed. The anxiety was washed away and Zaire was laughing and shaking his head. It suddenly didn’t matter if Silas told Houri or if Zinnia told Houri or if Houri told Houri.

When the laughter stopped, Zaire was smiling blissfully at Houri until he heard Silas’ passing comment. Dance? They were going to dance together? When? Why? Could he join in with them? He remembered a time when he was much younger, out in the fields that were adjacent to the olive groves. There were other children who lived on the property, not just his cousins, but those that belonged to the other farmers.

Sundays were never a true day of rest but there was time in the day when the kids in summer could picnic for lunch and then play together. Sometimes they would hold hands and sing as they skipped in a circle, and if they were lucky, Gram would pull out her wooden harp that Gramps had crafted for her over thirty years ago when he went to propose and—

“What?” Zaire blinked, looking over at Houri when she nudged him. “That’s me? What do you…?” He had been zoning out more than he realized. “Wait, what are we doing?” And then he watched her walk away from him, going to Silas and looking up at him and smiling and saying something to him. That’s right. What girl wanted to look down at a guy? They always liked looking up, didn’t they?

And at the Academy, every guy here but him was tall. Boy oh boy did Zaire wish Remi was still around. He turned, looking to see Zinnia still standing beside him. Well, that was nice of her, wasn’t it? Giving him support when he needed it most. He should’ve known that that look in Silas’ eyes meant he was going to try and steal Houri away from him.

Zaire reached up, feeling the flower clip in his downy hair. Maybe Silas was just jealous he got the hair clip instead of him? Ha, ha, not so fast now are ya?

“Thanks for being a pal Zinnia and making me not look like a loser.” Zaire told her, smiling at her, blissfully unaware that they were dance partners and were supposed to dance. “What do you think everyone is lining up for? Are they serving dessert already? Pie sounds kinda good right now, not gonna lie.”

Zinnia

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline clasped her hands together in excitement for the two former students. The festivities had begun, and perhaps they'd both get to experience what they--and practically all the other initiates--had missed at the previous ball.

"Ah, how delightful! Have fun, both of you. I'll keep watch here."

She waved them off and did just that. Her smile soon faded, however.

"Pray tell, the guards, they have been sent on patrol about the grounds I trust. We shouldn't have all our eyes on one place surely."

"Ser Salak...indeed they are. Yet even still I find myself anxious..."

 

[Maseno Luana]

Beyond a doubt he hated to be late to anything.

Approximately ten hours ago he'd returned to the Academy grounds after a very, very long two weeks away. He was still having trouble recalling the last 48 hours, though waves of images would flood his mind's eye, instigated by errant thoughts or familiar sights. Upon awaking in the medical wing amidst the buzz of the Healers and Nurses, Maseno had found himself quite confused when a Proctor approached with dress robes of all things.

He had days left to fully heal from the injuries sustained in his training, but the Dance wouldn't wait and his attendance was mandatory. Much as his body screamed for rest, the young Luana acknowledged these expectations with a pained but polite smile. He did his best to make the Nurses job of dressing him as easy as possible, even if his reservations for what the other Initiates would think seeing him like this might be.

The very image of a gentleman right up until they brought out a wheelchair.

"No," said Maseno with some small amount of force, "I will walk."

Even if they insisted he should not (strange, given just two years ago they would have forced him to) he was disinclined to acquiesce.


Maseno Luana arrived at the dance hall in crutches. He wore the heritage of his family in the form of humble but well-appointed green robes, which had proven to be an optimal choice over a fitted tux or suit given the amount of bandages and splints he wore hidden beneath the loose fabric. Pausing in a smaller side entryway long enough to take it all in, despite his present condition he could not help but smile quietly to himself. Seeing the hall decorated and his fellow initiates dressed so primly gave him an sudden awareness of the hope he'd secretly been holding onto for the last few years. His sister was here, looking absolutely radiant, and that alone was enough to make everything he'd been through for the last two weeks worth it.

If not for her, everything would be so very different.

Deciding not to linger or stare or give anyone too much time to approach and ask questions, he turned himself and his crutches toward the tables where Proctor Evangeline and an unknown man were standing. Slow but steady progress marked his path, a tight smile stitching itself over his lips to cover up his pain. As he neared the two, he gave them a polite nod, "Good evening, Proctor," and then paused as he situated himself and his handicap, amber eyes shifting to Salak with some curiosity, "and to you, Sir. I do not believe we have met?"

 

[Oryyn Black]

Rowley look back at Livia, seeing Leander approaching and just shook his head with a smile before focusing back on Kristen.

"Why wouldn't we? It's not worth doing if we aren't the best. Besides, Livia is just an acquaintance...an acquaintance. It's hard not to look amazing when the other option is Leander in one of his moods. Besides, she is just using me to annoy him, whether she realizes it or not...But no harm there, I like being used."

He shot Kristen a wink before taking her in his arms and beginning the dance. For how large of a man Rowley was, he was an excellent dancer. Something he had learned early on...for the ladies, of course.

They were close enough now that Rowley could whisper in Kristen's ear.

"So tell me, is there anyone here that I could make jealous? Anyone to really make bristle?" While he said this his playful and devious smirk never dropped from his face.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Trix]

Now that threw Trix completely by surprise.

"You want to get married and settle down into noble life?" Despite her reputation as the previous years bully there was no scorn or sneer in her tone. She had merely never envisaged any initiate choosing that life over one of servitude to the State. Even Lils who had gone into the Reserves still did things. Her parents hadn't even suggested for one moment she shirk those responsibilities and now, looking between Caeso and Alice, she was thankful for them for perhaps the first time in her life.

"If you've made it this far, Caeso, it would be a disservice to everyone - including yourself - to give it up. But," she lifted her shoulders in a shrug as their hands met with the first note of the song. "It's all about choice now, I suppose."

 

[Caeso Diemut]

"You misunderstand," said Caeso, his other hand slipping to Trix's side and his feet, with the conscious effort of a journeyman in skill, moving in adequate, if minorly stiff, measure to the song.

"It is not at all giving up. It is balance. The Reserves will impart unto me the time and flexibility to participate in more domestic affairs as well as, in my discretion, to offer my service to Vel Anir. For the past decade have I learned how to be a Dreadlord. As heir to the fortunes of House Diemut, it is high time that I become more learned and involved in our affairs in addition to helping preserve the welfare of the state as a whole."

It would have been this way had not the Revolution happened, but the Reserves at least offered an unofficial capacity to associate with his House—it would have to do. Upon the horizon were things of great interest and the utmost import to him: marriage, children, learning the true trade of nobility by shadowing his father, securing House Diemut and House Virak's place in these tumultuous times. Much of this simply could not be accomplished on some distant and forsaken battlefield.

"As for you? I believe I detected a note of..." he wasn't quite prepared to say disdain for, so he opted for a word less strong, "...aversion to noble life. Is this so?"

Trix

 

[Salak]

If Salak's eyes could have rolled right out of his head onto the floor and out of the Hall they would have. Paired dancing, what next? Assigned seating?
He watched Everleigh and Trix leave and so for a brief moment he was relatively alone with Miss D'Amour which suited him well.

"Ser Salak...indeed they are. Yet even still I find myself anxious..."

This drew his attention to her, he never ignored an ill feeling lest some secret wisdom be found there.
"Anxious you say. Whatever about if I may ask?"

Before she could answer a youth approached them and he withdrew his attention, better not to speak of fears openly among the Initiates.
Salak responded to the polite young man with a nod as he took him in. His mind sought the name from his database of Initiates and Stationed Dreadlords.
"and to you, Sir. I do not believe we have met?"

"We have not." Salak offered a modestly curt hand gesture in lew of a handshake, partly to spare the young man his hands for his crutches and partly because he did not wish to poison him.
"You may call me Proctor Salak. I am a new face here and still finding my way about." Salak had memorized the layout of the Academy within the first 34 hours of being stationed
"and I believe you are Master Luana, am I correct?"
Salak would have bet his right arm this was Maseno Luana but allowing the lad to confirm it served two purposes.
The first is not to overbear on the lad with notions of superiority, even though Salak had them, the second was to invite him to introduce himself on his own terms. You'd be surprised what folk tell of themselves when given invitation to speak.

Evangeline Maseno Luana

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair had a light smirk on his face seeing Evie's attire. He could guess what she was here for, which meant they had thrown her into this without asking her. He would have been perfectly fine to do nothing more than talk with an old friend, while not really dancing. Unfortunately, it did look like Evie was going to follow through with the dancing part.

However, Evie knew the perfect way to get Alistair's mind off the dance, and that was to give him a problem to solve. A thoughtful expression replaced the smirk as he went over everything he knew of the Svalen. It was an internal sort of magic, not taught but born with, closer to lycanthropy.

"If one was familiar with the magic then it is certainly possible to block the ability to change...although, if it is a rune on their body then it may be more difficult to remove. It would not be as simple as causing a break in the rune..."

He looked up a little startled, realizing she was continuing her off and he quickly explained to Evie about his circumstances tonight.

"I would more than happily assist you, but...must it be tonight. I have already made arrangements to be here, and...she would be rather annoyed if I just ignored her."

She might not even be mad, even worse, Kristen may just be hurt if he were to ignore her tonight and that would hurt him even more.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Livia Quinnick]

She had grown up with older brothers and was much used to being dealing with the brunt of their annoyances, earning a good number of them sour looks outright herself. There was no disdain harsher than the one directed at her, delivered with a cadence that ought to make anyone else squirm under such scrutiny beneath those eyes belonging to Leander Urahil. Livia, to her credit, took his offered hand and made no move to reject her dance partner. It was one song. There were more truly terrible things to endure than to dance with the tallest in the hall.

Her mother would be proud, a thought that threatened to turn her impassive expression into one of horror. Despite not representing House Quinnick in their fine and dainty colours, her mother would have overlooked such a foolishness if she were to see this picture. They looked miserable as they found a spot on the open floor to take starting positions. Due to the reach on him, Livia settled with placing her left hand on his chest and her right clasped together with his at a comfortable height for her. Even with that cold, deadened expression taking up his facade, he was still being considerate to her. "You could at least make your face appear complacent with this partnering, or is the aged gold detailing on my dress too close to the colour yellow for your liking?" It was a weak attempt to get him to stop staring down at her like she had fixed the pairings to ruin his night.

She was met with silence. Did he not hear her speak? Livia averted her gaze and made a point to look at the other pairings preparing for the first notes to ease them into the simple dance. Most were already chatting, some smiles here and there, even some of the volunteers taking to the floor. Once the music poured out to the floor, everyone moved as one. Livia snapped her head back to peer up at Leander, still mute. His peculiar eyes still held such animosity that it made her skin crawl. "Leander, have you lost your wits? Did you notice that I am leading?" Dancing was no foreign work on the youngest Quinnick, having been taught since she could walk. The older she got, the more she appreciated the memory of movement and how graceful one could move about the room. "I am not going to have you stare at me like that for these mere few minutes and make this the most miserable night." Before the repetition of steps begun, Livia stamped her heel on his foot to liven him up, continuing to lead them both into the next string of footwork.

Leander Urahil

 

[Silas Artesto]

Silas grinned up at Zinnia as she tripped and stumbled over her words. Yeah, maybe it was a little mean to start putting pressure on the undisputed wallflower of the group. Well, if you didn't count bird-brain in the corner, anyways. Even so, he found the way she tried to muster up her courage and stand like she wasn't shaking in her boots just being here to be undeniably endearing. Attractive even, in its own way.

He'd have been more than happy to give her the honors and show her the ropes-- It would have been an excellent way to distract himself from the rather invasive thoughts that had been running amok in his head lately. Unfortunately, it seemed the organizers of this little event had other plans. The thunderous voice of the Proctor drew Artesto's gaze right as he opened his mouth to make the offer, and they listed off pairings of their own choice.

Really? After last time I figured they would ixnay that little rule...

Silas hadn't been at the Winter Solstice dance, but he'd heard the story of a particularly ill-conceived pairing leading to the myriad of injuries that ended that particular event. True, they'd taken the chandelier down, but Silas couldn't promise he wouldn't try some silly shit with Lady Urahil just to get at Leander if it came down ti it. It was still a risky move to force people who might loathe one another to dance.

Luckily for him, they'd given him Houri. He could definitely get on board with that.

Turning back to look at Zinnia, Silas gave a small bow. "I'll find you later then. I don't think Zaire is going to be up for much, so I'll try and make it up to you when the time comes if you're interested." He offered apologetically, giving her a small wink before turning to meet the already approaching Houri, who quickly swept him away to their place in line.

"I hope you don't mind me getting my dance in early?"

Silas gave her a smirk as he reached out to take one of her hands gently in his own, his other raising up to rest on her shoulder, for now. "Usually, I recommend saving the best for last, but I suppose it's not up to you this time."

The music began to play through the large room, and as he began to sway in time with her, he worked to narrow down those vibrations in the air, the timing of the beat, and the rhythm of Houri's feet on the ground every time she took a step. Before long, he was making steps in sync with her.

Houri would step back, and Silas' foot would be in its place less than a second later. He would move to the side, his hand dipping to her side to pull her in a slow turn as the music swelled and receded. If either of them misstepped, he merely need wait for the vibration, and return to form.

Yes, Silas considered dancing to be an excellent form of training for his particular brand of magic, but the pleased grin on his face showed he was genuinely enjoying himself

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Absolutely tonight,” Everleigh said, raising a dark eyebrow at Alistair’s words. “For the payment of your work in the future.” His words confirmed her thoughts. Her gimlet gaze slid over to Kristen before looking back at Alistair. “I have the rune memorized. I’ll draw it out, you just give me thoughts in going about removing it as discreetly as possible. Expect a letter soon.”

The dance had begun, and Everleigh began to lead the two of them. Sure, that was supposed to be Alistair’s job but Everleigh always felt better when she was in control. There were only two people she’d let take the reins from her.

The other pairs began to move as well when the music began to play; some swaying awkwardly from side to side or actually stepping on—

“Alistair, watch it.” Their chests nearly bumped into each other and Everleigh was quick to take a second step back before Alistair stepped on her foot or bounced off from her. “I don’t have as big as a stride as you.” She explained, her voice having a gentle sternness that she had picked up from her time proctoring the younger initiates. Once again her eyes found Kristen and Rowley.

“But I do know someone who does. Ready for a early payday then keep up with me.” Once more, Everleigh pitied Alistair as she began to move, leading him around like quickly in a series of fancy footwork and spins. She was thankful for her memory, piecing together every time she had witnessed others dance, like in Alliria or even her parents during festivities. However it looked less lovely than what she pictured in her head, especially as she continued picking up the pace and trying new movements while pulling Alistair like a ragdoll.

Not like he was going to tell her no, he was a smart man, after all. Another moment or two and Everleigh was purposely in the space for Kristen and Rowley. Her free hand helped to quickly wedge herself between them before moving her foot over. A true master of sleight of hand, if one blinked they would miss Everleigh trading Alistair for Rowley. Kristen might not even notice the absence of warmth from Rowley’s hand as Alistair’s hand appeared in hers as if Everleigh could teleport things faster than the portal stones themselves.

Soon enough, Everleigh was moving away from Rowley, pivoting and turning. She leaned her head back, grinning like the daring devil she was towards the pairing she had made.

“Sorry Kristen, I wanted a dance partner that could keep up with me. Take care of him.” As if that all her actions were, Everleigh centered her gaze on Rowley. “You better not disappoint me and step on my toes. Keep in mind that I have shorter legs than Pirian.”

Alistair Krixus Kristen Pirian Rowley Stone

 

[Leander Urahil]

It wasn’t that Leander couldn’t dance. He could dance decently, although if you were to ask him he would brag about his skills on the dance floor as if he was the best dancer in all of Vel Anir. He was at least better than a chunk of the initiates here, especially all those commoners that were tripping over themselves or doing those horrendous skipping in place with loose shoulders and even loose arms. Peasant dances shouldn’t even be done at something that was clearly a important event but then maybe the Academy should’ve had everyone practice for an hour before the actual dance?

It was atrocious watching multiple women lead the men around or seeing the pairs bump into each other. It was even worse when they tried to spin the partner or twirled worse than a dog at a circus. The worst part of it was that even despite his height because of all the movement on the floor he could hardly keep an eye on Odessa and Ivan! He had to watch them to make sure that nothing scandalous continuing happening between the two of them!

“What the fuck was that for, Quinnick?” Leander was brought back into reality with a stinging pain erupted on his big toe. He was already in a bad mood and now she was stepping on his toes on purpose? Just like with Willow the words she had spoken to him before came in slow waves of realization. He had listened to her, sort of. He was prepared to growl a insult to her, maybe imply she didn’t know what she was doing but a grand idea came instead.

It suddenly occurred to him that he could make Odessa look foolish. Ivan most definitely couldn’t dance, could he? At least not as good as Leander could, and Odessa would surely have to lead him and teach him and maybe they’d end up falling all over each other. Then Odessa could look and see him and Livia dancing the way that nobility should and would be embarrassed and hate Ivan for making a fool of her.

Leander brought Livia closer, still keeping a respectable amount of space as he had to lean down towards her. He plastered a saccharine smile on his face but his eyes issued a challenge to Livia.

“My apologies, Lady Livia,” he said as the smile began morphing to a smirk. “I promise to give you my rapt attention for as long as you desire to make it up to you.” He stared into her eyes, beginning to lead them into the next sequence in smooth fluidity like he should have from the start. He had measured steps, making sure that despite his much longer stride, he wouldn’t place any more effort onto Livia’s slight shoulders in adjusting herself. Like the gentleman he may have been if he hadn’t been raised in the Academy for so long, he made sure that he matched the tempo Livia felt the most comfortable at.

Which was the right tempo. From his peripheral vision he could see how off beat so many of his classmates were. Yet he remained focus, raising up his left hand and giving Livia the space she needed to step into a circle before he pulled her in close once again. They made a good pair, swaying in time to the music. Soon enough, his dreadlord training was paused to allow Leander the luxury of focusing on one person and one person only.

“Your grace shines even brighter than your beauty tonight.” His mother should have named Rizzander, there was no one here better at making the ladies swoon.

Livia Quinnick

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen accepted Rowley's lead in the dance, as was proper, and settled with ease into flowing with his movements. The First Annual Solstice Ball marked the first occasion in which Kristen was actually confident in her ability in something here at the Academy, having spent years practicing during her noble upbringing before enrolling. In the Hall tonight it was no different, save perhaps for that already sound surety being shored up from bolstered confidence in other aspects of her life as well, altogether making for a firmer foundation as a whole.

Speaking of ability, Rowley turned out to be rather much a surprise. She understood that the Academy did on special occasion train certain Initiates in dance; maybe Rowley was such a one? He had to be. In any case, Kristen couldn't help but smile. "How are you so adept? By this I mean to infer no slight, it is merely...gosh, astonishment is the word."

He came to whisper in her ear, and of his words Kristen of course had mixed feelings. There was someone she certainly did not want to inspire jealousy within, and yet there was someone in whom said jealousy could prove a spot of mischievous fun.

"Quite the provocateur, you are," she said, her spirits high. "Do you wish a challenge? Hark, here it is: let Proctor Ebersol see your skill and—"

Having glanced in the general direction of Everleigh and Alistair, and having spotted them, and having done a double-take at the...peculiar method of dance the former was enforcing on the latter, Kristen blurted out, that former eloquence sharply lost, "What in god's name is she doing?"

Not that there was much time for pondering. They were heading this way, Everleigh and Alistair, and before Kristen knew it perhaps the greatest heist this Hall would see tonight had been pulled off by Proctor Ebersol.

Her porcelain hand was joined with Alistair's own, Everleigh had a few parting words, and Kristen was squarely returned to the man who held exclusive claim to her affections. The whole affair left Kristen bemused...and blushing with eager joy. Her flesh-and-blood found lovely home on Alistair's shoulder.

"Well..." Kristen began, lost for words momentarily, and laughing lightly at the pleasant surprise of it all. She found a suitable conclusion and said warmly, "...welcome back."

Alistair Krixus Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Livia Quinnick]

"Keep your voice down!" Quinnick hissed as he effortlessly took the reins of leading their dance. She was not surprised he was quick on his feet, even less that he was able to flow with her and move across their section fluidly. Ill suited dance partners that made quite the dancing pair, Livia did her best to keep the conflicting emotions from her face. She should be glad that Leander pulled focus, but to be the receiver of his charms and flattery? It was unlike him... positively his way of talking down at her.

So why did her chest tighten on a choked breath?

Suddenly she was unable to meet his gaze, ducking her head to the side and watching the other pairs move about the room. "You do not need to fake niceties with me, Urahil." Would he really let her slide with marking his shoe with the collected dust under her heel? "Surely you detest this pairing as much as I do? If only we had slipped out those doors while we had the chance..." Livia lamented. She would not run away, not after having the misfortune to be this close to her last choice in company. It reminded her of what her father used to say, that Quinnicks simply had to make do with bad luck... because enduring the worst brought them back on top in due time. It was why Livia did not falter in her steps. As much as she was being trained to become a Dreadlord, she had trained to be a someday wife before that, and dance was part of her repertoire as much as song and several of the arts.

"Right, you need to keep your head up because now it looks like you are whispering at my ear." Her voice was stern, lifting her head enough to meet his golden gaze and keep a respectable distance from face. There was nought she could do with the colour flushing to her cheeks, feeling light as his undeserved attentions were promised upon her. Did he have to be so literal? Quinnick did her best for her eyes to remain steadfast, relaying the severity of her request. "I do not want to be part of any gossip after tonight."

Leander Urahil

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Odessa would have teased Ivan, noticing the sudden pinkness of his cheeks, if her giant oaf of a brother hadn’t stormed over, pissed off about whatever had his panties in a knot today. She pulled herself away from Ivan, her arms crossing and a scowl returning to her face as soon as he began to speak.

“WhAt Do YoU tHiNk YoU’rE dOiNg WiTh HiM?” She mocked his tone, slightly quieter than Ivan’s response.

“What do you think I’m doing?” She paused, giving him no time to reply before shrugging. “You can’t get upset. You’re the one who said I had to attend.”

The scowl, once again, softened as Ivan took her hand and she nodded, following along towards the refreshments. For the most part, she ignored their small talk and instead focused on pouring herself something to drink, hoping Zaire was here to spike yet another school event’s food and drink. She was going to need it.

Pulling her drink up to her mouth, she noticed just on her wrist a slight disturbance of her flesh. It looked mottled. A blotchy, slightly darker grayish shade with a web of vessels that ended with a bloodless cut that looked almost necrotic. It was small, but she wasn’t crazy. It was definitely there.

“Hey, Ivan-” she turned to face him, but was rudely interrupted by the hosts.

Something something little game…

“Ivan and Odessa!”

“Eh?” She looked towards the dance floor where other couples whose names had been called began to congregate. “I..uh..nevermind. It can wait. Shall we?” She tossed back the entire drink and pulled him by his hand towards the floor.

Ivan Skender

 

[Trix]

Trix's fluid, confident steps hid any stiffness her partner showed; a hesitant step masked by the swish of her skirts, a hand misplaced swept away by a elegant spin and a subtle guidance of where it should sit when she returned to his arms. It was such a natural thing it was quite clear her partners in the past had been equally rusty; hardly surprising when most of those she danced with were other noble dreadlords returned from missions. The normal ones never cared to stray too close to a woman who could bring to life the term belladonna kiss.

"It's just not me," Trix replied as though they were not waltzing but rather out for a pleasant stroll. A slight hitch of her shoulders was the only break in her practised steps. "My parents abandoned all hope of me inheriting as soon as I showed a talent for magic and I'm grateful they have not insisted that change since the revolution," her lips pursed as she thought of how to explain it.

"I did try, but... Have you ever noticed the way their smiles turn oily when you mention it, like they've swallowed a sour grape?"

A twirl sent them spinning apart for a heartbeat.

"They can never understand, Nobility, what it was like to be in here. Oh they'll make the right noises like a beautifully trained songbird, but that makes it all the more... lonely in their world.

Perhaps there's more hope for your year, maybe you'll be more pleasing to their senses, more human, but after our graduation I knew mine were never going to be given a true chance at a different path. We will only ever be Dreadlords, no matter the sugar coating. But someone had to be the first draft of the Revolution, didn't they?"

 

[Houri]

Houri's returning smile was one of radiant joy as Silas led her to the floor. It took all her restraint to remember her mother's teaching and not skip.

"If you're that good, perhaps I'll save the last one for you too."

In sync with all the other women she curtsied low, the gentlemen bowed, and then his hand was on her shoulder and they were gone.

Houri had learned from her short time with this year of initiates that the men seemed to be particularly blessed with a level of self assurance that other boys their age would lack. So she had not been sure what to expect of Silas' dancing after the not so subtle bragging. A few missteps perhaps and a bruised toe - risks she was willing to take to dance again. Therefore she was pleasantly surprised to find that not only could Silas dance, but that he could dance well.

The cotillion could be a simple dance allowing couples to speak as they wove their way across the floor but it could also become the conversation. There were pauses and drawn out notes that allowed for the dancers to decide themselves their own course. Spins, lifts, dips - the combinations were endless. Houri had not lied when she said she loved to dance, but she had failed to mention that she was also good at it. Very good. So good that once her father had sighed and called it a waste that such a talent had befallen a daughter whose path was destruction.

I never know where you stop and the music starts, joon-am. I could watch you as I watch the stars.

Her fathers words echoed in the back of her surprisingly silent mind as she lost herself to the music. Her body became a liquid thing, twisting, spinning, reeling. Daring Silas to keep up or let her go. Other dancers moved out of the way of the pair as they wrote their own dance across the floor and more than a few simply stopped to watch the two come together like ill-fated stars.

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Would Caeso have liked to lead the dance? Of course, that much was expected of a nobleman. But he was in no position, being still very much in the place of the learner rather than the experienced, let alone the master. So it was quite agreeable to him that Trix lead and he follow; he could make a mockery of himself through trial and error on his own time, in more private circumstances, pursuing the course of practice until finally his skill was honed.

Caeso wouldn't have expected such a tale from Trix. Yet, was such a thing not plausible? Was there no general truth to her words? His own situation with House Diemut, with his father Sabian, inevitably colored his opinion, and it wasn't until the changes of the Republic when Initiates, noble or not, would even hazard to talk openly about themselves, so indeed Caeso could but helplessly have his view that his situation was similar for the rest of the noble Initiates and Dreadlords.

"I am...dismayed to hear that your family has disregarded you so," he said. Hearing Zinnia's story, and now this? He felt much the same now as he did then: awful that for Zinnia, for Trix, their misfortunes included the breaking of the bond of family. Nothing provoked a more sympathic impulse in him quite like accounts of these kinds.

The subject of Graduation was brought up. That which Caeso was training for and striving to overcome through sheer might, that which he even vigorously defended in debate against Kristen Pirian. Yet it was easy to support an idea when it was neatly removed from all other circumstances, detached and abstract, and this led him more and more since the death of Quinctus, his brother whom he killed, to be of a dual mind. He supported the old way, the established tradition of Vel Anir and Dreadlords...and yet it had led him to commit his greatest sin, that for which he could never forgive himself.

So he asked her, in a hushed tone, heavy with the weight of both past and portent, voicing his question, "Graduation...what truly happened there?"

She said she would only ever be a Dreadlord. So was she? Had she done that which the old way demanded, and passed through that crucible blooded?

Trix

 

[Alistair Krixus]

"Ah, then I suppose I could take a look. It will take some time, but I could certainly get it done."

Alistair did not get to discuss more of the rune before he had to focus solely on a bigger problem, this dancing. Thankfully, Alistair was not an imbecile, he knew the basics enough that he could avoid stepping on anyone during a reasonable dance. Unfortunately, Evie was being anything but reasonable, throwing him around like a toy.

In between the spins he tried to get Evie to calm down, "Will you slow down, I am not some toy for you to-"

Before he even knew exactly what happened, he found himself holding Kristen in his arms, and it did not take long for his smile to return.

"Uh, I'm back."

He glanced back to see Evie with Rowley, he would need to remember to thank her later. For now, he was just going to enjoy the dance with Kristen before he paused again.

"I don't suppose you know how to dance?"

If Kristen had seen any of his journey over here then it was clear that his skills were minimal at best.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Oryyn Black]

Rowley just smirked, she wasn't as easy to tease as he had hoped, but her compliments were enough to bloat his ego a little, so that would work. The noble girls were always so impressed when the peasant boy could dance their other suitors under the table. Was is that incredible that he learned how to dance? Like it was hard or something? All he had to was watch a few times, practice a couple of times, and then it was just easy.

"Oh, no. I was thinking of someone else."

His gaze shifted to look for Alistair but was only surprised to find him right next to them, and before he knew it, Proctor Ebersol was in his arms. Rowley sighed, understanding what had happened. He had not even had the chance to have fun with the Pirian girl. Oh well, the woman before him seemed just as fun, if not a bit more intense.

A chuckle escaped his lips before Rowley locked eyes with Everleigh.

"I have no plans too, in fact, you seem like you can keep up better."

Rowley was quick to take the lead, unlike the man with Kristen, he had no plans to be led around during this dance. And for all of Evie's fancy footwork, Rowley led perfectly, mixing his own speed with her and allowing her to relax a little.

"I suppose I should be the one asking if you will disappoint."

He said this in a playful challenge, not caring if this was a Proctor or a Dreadlord. This was just a dance, and he would deal with the consequences later.

Everleigh Ebersol