It has been, perhaps, half a watch since the first royals arrived at the ball, the drink is flowing and the laughter is just a bit louder than it was earlier. With the people and the candles, the room seems warm.
It is one of those moments when the music and the conversation have hit a lull. At the far end of the room, the leader of the orchestra has his bow up, ready to start the next song, when he notices that half his ensemble are looking at the entryway. Revelers stop dead in doorways, making those behind them come up short. Even the exotic birds caged in niches along the walls are strangely silent.
If the man and the woman who appear in the doorway were...taller, or if the woman was looking at the crowd, or if ... something! If any of those things were true, then it would be a moment of high drama. Still, there is something magnetic about the pair. It is not that they are larger than life, but that they are more dense.
Random leads Vialle into the room, nodding and smiling as they promenade across the room. It is a slow processional, and he makes an effort to meet eyes, but neither stops nor seems inclined to make conversation.
Random is dressed as a fantasy Sultan, draped in golden silks and arrays of jewels and wearing a turban with a tremendous peacock feather. He has the presence to carry it well. He carries a scepter and a red-gold sphere.
Beside him Vialle is his complement, emeralds and sapphires to his rubies and diamonds. She is diaphanously veiled, and the sheer, transparent silk is like a current of water floating freely in front of her. She holds his arm and matches him step for step.
She is, if it has not been noted before, beautiful.
The pair reaches the far end and come up to the bandstand and turn. Vialle unnecessarily claps three times, the sound echoing through the room. It breaks the hush and many in the crowd remember to breathe again. "The Emperor is pleased with your attendance at his entertainment. Let the dancing begin."
The musicians, to their credit, begin making dance-music almost immediately and people begin choosing partners. As they leave towards the champagne fountain, Random can be seen bumming a cigarette from a musician who, in all fairness, really can't finish it before the set starts.
Impressions of family members from the dancing:
Gerard, of course, does not dance. While there doesn't seem to be a coordinated effort to ensure that he is kept company, it happens that someone is with him, talking, most of the time. He is most frequently kept company by Caine, who doesn't seem to care that his opportunities to dance are limited thereby. He offers a few courtesy dances to relatives and to the Queen, but that's it.
Bleys and Corwin are the two flashiest dancers among the uncles. They are both almost constantly on the dance floor, and are reasonably promiscuous about whom they ask. Among the aunts, Flora has many suitors and is also constantly on the dance floor.
As the hostess, Vialle is much in demand, both by family members and, to the extent that she accepts them, from outsiders. She is conservative in the dances she accepts, probably because her blindness limits her ability to process dance cues. (In the less formal dancing atmosphere of the Regency masquerade, this was less of a problem.)
Random spends most of his time talking, but he occasionally asks someone to dance. Astute observers notice that he seems to get out of conversations he might prefer not to be in that way. He offers courtesy dances to his sisters and his nieces (more detail in the other post) but seems uninterested in dancing with women unrelated to him.
Martin follows his father's pattern in general, but is swifter to flee to the dance floor than Random. He sticks closely to women he knows, as well, but he includes some favorites from the Regency court, such as Aunt Felicity. Observers note that he offers a courtesy dance to his stepmother.
Benedict dances to only the most traditional of dances. He restricts himself to only the closest members of his family: his sisters, Lilly, and perhaps surprisingly, Aisling. He also asks the Queen for her courtesy dance.
Cambina dances occasionally with men she knows, including her escort Brennan, several of her uncles, and Martin. Other than a couple of very strong-willed fellows like Marquess Maritime, few non-relatives actually have the guts to ask her to dance.
Julian alternates between keeping company with Gerard and asking ladies of his acquaintance to dance. His partners include his sisters (particularly Fiona), the Queen, and, if they are willing, his daughter and some of his nieces. He is a precise, elegant dancer, with none of the showiness of Bleys and Corwin.
Fiona is asked to dance by many men and accepts a fair number. Her choices include Bleys, Julian, Corwin, and one of the captains from the Land of Peace.
To the surprise of some, Llewella spends much of her time dancing, although she occasionally retires to keep Gerard company. Observers from the time of Eric's court note that she has many dance partners who would not have asked her during the previous reign. Some of those who were there in Amber before Eric's rule might remember that Llewella had been more popular, and some of her old friends seem to have come out of the woodwork.
Lucas dances with a number of ladies and a few women who might be described as less wholesome than ladies. He is quite possibly the most flamboyant dancer of the younger set. He checks in with Solace regularly, but seems to leave her on her own for the most part. He also spends a part of his evening keeping Vialle company during faster dances that she cannot keep up with.
All of the relatives are good dancers.
This is a quick and dirty list of who will be asking the young ladies to dance at various points during the evening. It may change subject to character availability.
Aisling: Has a lot of partners because she is a true unknown, and comes on the arm of a royal. Benedict, Random, and Lucas ask her to dance.
Aisling is happy dancing with Random, and will enjoy dances with any other of her male distant relatives who ask her, but it is Benedict's request that leaves her truly starry-eyed and thrilled. She tries to 'keep this down' some, so as to not embarrass both of them as they dance. Afterwards, she'll slip over to the side to sip on a fortifying glass of wine, so she isn't dancing while distracted from whichever poor fellow is next.
Aisling would like to ask to the dance floor Reid, and I think -- yes, I think Bleys, since she's in a somewhat devilish mood today. With a twinkle in her eyes...
Folly: Has her choice of dancing partners much of the time, because so many know her from the Regency. Corwin, Caine, Bleys and Random all ask her to dance, as does Lucas (probably checking her deportment, uh huh). Martin asks her to dance as often as he can without being too conspicuous.
Lilly: Probably has a number of people scared off, because the blade marks her as a royal lady. Nobody approaches her while she is with Vialle, but in her off times, Benedict, Bleys, and Martin ask her to dance. When Random asks her, Benedict remains by Vialle.
When approached Lilly is polite and agreeable. She barely seems to notice the lack of partners. Perhaps that was because she is grateful for it. After all it was easier to do her job from the sidelines. Still, though she would never admit it, she enjoyed dancing. The movement, the rhythms, came easily and naturally to her. Lilly is light on her feet, graceful, and poised. Plus she can carry on a conversation, keep an eye on the queen, and never miss a step.
As long as Vialle has royal company, specifically the Princes, Paige will encourage some of the gentlemen of her aquaintence to take a spin with Liily, especially those she might've met at the housewarming.
Paige: Has numerous requests from the red-headed faction, but not so many from nobles and honored guests outside it. Corwin, Bleys, Julian, Random, and Martin all ask her to dance at various times. Her non-family potential dance partners include the captains from the Land of Peace, Lord Rein, and Alan LeClaire, as well as a number of guests at her recent housewarming and men who know her from the Prince.
Which notably matches the list in Paige's mind, at least in the matter of her elders, and she's happy to take a few turns with Alan and Lord Rein. She's disappointed that Lord Worth doesn't make the list, but not surprised, nor bold enough this evening to make the suggestion herself. As we're not jumping into this right off, and Paige is going to suggest Lilly and Merlin take the first dance, perhaps starting the night with her father would be apropos. Pleasantries it seems are the order of the evening. Small talk and such for father, to be mined later for meaning.
Solange: Has her choice of dancing partners much of the time, because so many know her from the Regency. All of her uncles ask her to dance, as do Martin and Lucas.
Solange is well pleased by all the attention, and does not decline any invitations. She also keeps her wings folded shut wile dancing so as not to poke other dancers in the eye.
Even Benedict asks her to dance? Amazing!
As does Worth, who is otherwise somewhat shy about asking partners to dance. He is dressed as a common sailor.
Robin: [Assuming she stays on the patio] Julian, Corwin, Random, and Martin all ask her. If she declines, any of them will be happy to sit one out with her.
Robin will probably stay near the patio or the door to the patio most of the evening.
Robin would, of course, be delighted to dance with Julian.
Random -- more of a spooky duty than anything else.
Martin -- why? Has he already run out of partners?
Corwin approaches her? Eyes spark fire and she'll unconciously finger her
knife. Maybe that snarl isn't such a good idea in public either. It's
supposed to be a happy occasion. So it'll only be a momentary flash. :)
Assuming Ossian introduces him to Folly, Marius would definitely ask for a dance.
He'll look over at Paige kind of like a lonely puppy once or twice, but decide it's not worth wading through her pool of admirers.
He'd ask Vialle, Llewella, and Florimel each for a dance.
If there's any special dances, he'd ask Cambina once. He'll be a nervous wreck about it, but he'll ask anyway, because he thinks he has to.
He doesn't ask any men. I mean, really. The only kinds of dancing he does with men is with swords, and now I'm going to go blush.
With regards to who gets asked and who doesn't, Jerod's list of dancers will cover a fairly wide range.
Amongst the NPCs, this would include Llewella (who's already at the start of the list), Flora, Solace and Queen Vialle. Both of his sisters are also asked when the opportunity presents itself. The Rebman party gets asked as well, specifically Kaia and Bend. He is also smart enough to select dances that are not too difficult for any of the Rebmans who might concerned about looking awkward (and he's smart enough to make sure they realize what he's doing..:).
Only Fiona is not deliberately asked. Jerod does not make a big show out of it however so unless someone is keeping track of things, it could easily be ascribed to having many dance partners and regrettably someone gets lost in the shuffle.
Amongst the PCs, none of the ladies are ignored, though all requests will be subject to their availability and inclination (Jerod's not going to bother chasing someone who's not interested in dancing - he's here to enjoy himself). The most probable order (no double pun intended) for PCs to be invited would be Solange, Brita, Paige, Lilly, Folly (assuming he can get her away from Martin), Robin and Aisling.
Reid doesn't make a point of dancing with ALL of the ladies present, but here's a partial list of those he would seek out a dance with at some point in the evening.
- his student, Brita. He'd request a tune from the band that would be close to one he tried to teach her when he was teaching music. Though she might not be the most agile dancer, knowing the tune might help her have a feel for it as Reid leads.
- his cousin Lilly, to keep the tabloid fodder up.
- Folly. He'd request a tune with an odd time signature where they could both have fun anticipating the beats... most non-musicians would have a hard time keeping up on this tune, and would be left thinking "Where's one?"
- Cambina
- he might strike up conversation with Robin, but would not expect her to dance
- Thalia, at the end of their current conversation, perhaps.
- Viscountess Wonder
- Fiona
- if Hope were to make an appearance, he'd pick her up and swirl her around the room for a tune.
- assorted ladies of Garnath
Conner dances with Thalia more than anyone but he takes the time to work the room as his station requires.
Conner makes a point of asking all of his Aunts and female cousins to dance at some point. He asks Vialle for their courtesy dance and also asks Solace to dance while Lucas is otherwise occupied. And of couse he also dances with his mother and his sister, if Brita ever shows up.
Robin politely demurs when Conner asks. Body language though - she sure tootin' appreciates being lumped in with 'all his female relatives.' Oh yes, she does. Thanks ever so. Ba-Bye.
If you think Conner is being that obvious about it or indeed acting like he's just checking you off his list, you do him a disservice. In any case, Conner doesn't back off that easily.
Beyond the family, Conner asks any of the female ambassadors to dance most notably Ambassador Harper and, perhaps surprisingly, Ambassador Kaia.
Lastly, Conner also seeks out some of the wallflowers in the crowd, the ones that look like they would love to dance if only someone would ask them, and gives them the memory of dancing with a Royal.
Vere plans on having several conversations during the course of the evening - when he is not involved in these his time will be split between standing near his father (either conversing with him or listening to his conversations with others) and wandering around observing what everyone else is doing. He will not be dancing very many dances, although when he does dance his skill is excellent. It is clear he knows all the steps perfectly, and has an uncanny ability to read his partner and tailor his dancing in order to make her look her best.
Vere never asks for a dance from anyone who clearly has other suitors for her hand, he only asks those who are not currently dancing but look as though they wish to, and even then only if, once he approaches them, they obviously look as though they're hoping that he will ask. He seems to make no distinctions based on age, appearance, or social rank.
In accord with the GMs' wishes, no dance card - Jovian's agenda will develop organically. When the dancing starts, his first belongs to Kourin, naturally, but he will seek out Fiona for a dance, and perhaps sitting out the next one as well, soon after.
As for style, he flows naturally through things like pavanes - but those are basically prettied-up walking. Some of the faster and more complicated dances he can pick up reasonably, but now and then he gets tripped up in a dance that started out being familiar to him and then turned out...not. For this reason he sits out reels, if any there be, or anything with a hey more elaborate than the most basic. Surprisingly, he seems born to galliard - his turns and changes are fluidly graceful, and his kicks are remarkably high for a cavalry man. If there's a tassel-kick or other such test of skill among the night's diversions, he is a Serious Contender.
Which reminds me, if we're actually keeping track of which dances are performed in which order, and "la volta" is anywhere on the list, Solange is going to have to regretfully decline any invitations for that one, as she's aware that the wings, even folded, make her a tremendous hazard to other dancers in anything involving lifts. She's perfectly willing to take some refreshment or a turn on the patio with the gentleman who solicits her for that dance, though.
So far, it looks like she's first dancing with Ossian, then Jerod, unless NPCs intervene.
Just in case anyone was wondering, Solange has no particular objective for the evening other than dancing and drinking champagne, but she is not averse to having more serious conversations if someome else starts them.
I believe it is appropriate for Brennan and Cambina to share the first dance. Thus, the Fox dances with the Moon.
Viewers should note that Brennan is (surprisingly or not, depending on one's preconceptions) a fairly good dancer. It is not his passion in life or his devoted hobby-- he is not the Barenthkov or Lord Rein of dancing. But the bodily awareness that gives him his ordinary lazy grace transforms quickly into an effortless grace once he's learned the steps. And as with most physical skills, he's a quick study.
He is not, however, a showboat.
[Cambina] lets the Fox lead her onto the floor. They end up, unsurprisingly, next to Bleys. He grins broadly at the pair of you, as if some suspicion of his has been confirmed.
As I see it now -- Solange and Ossian dance the first dance. Unless Ossian has some further topic of significance besides the musicians, he and Solange concentrate on their dancing during the first dance.
Ossian indeed has nothing more of significance to say.
Fiona is still speaking with the strapping Viking, but turns slightly to acknowledge the newcomers. Both Marius and Aisling are certain that she recognizes them.
Is the Viking identifiable at this closer range from scent/carriage?
Perhaps he seems familiar, perhaps not. Fiona seems to be speaking with him as if he is to her.
Aisling bows a bit to both, smiling. "My lady in green; my lord seafarer. My lady, I merely wished to inquire as to your humour on this new night... The exodus from Chaos was stressful, yet I look forward to better things."
Translation: _I'm inclined to drop any unhappy bits that may be between us, with no blame assigned or apologies called for, if you are. We're both supporting Random..._
"We all look forward to better days, I am certain. But tonight, our new monarch decrees that we think only of light things and pleasure, rather than serious business," Fiona says with scrupulous neutrality.
("Then bedamned, bitch! I nearly died while you dallied with Corwin, and then chided me like a child me when I came out to see what had happened to my support!" ....No. The version of Aisling that's here tonight couldn't say that... It's not like she hadn't considered this outcome. And of course, constant fury is something she's trying to leave behind. She sorts through her emotions behind the stony wall around herself and comes up with: )
"What a pity this is serious business," Aisling says lightly, her smile failing to entirely mask her melancholy. She turns her eyes to the entry of their majesties, exclaiming softly, "Ah! The queen looks lovely!" This line of gaze has her looking more directly at Marius, and if he's looking at her, he can see her mission here has been accomplished.
Fiona also watches the entrance of the King and Queen. When the dancing begins, she turns to her companion with an inquiring look, but does not press the matter at the Viking lord's obvious lack of inclination to lead her out among the dancers.
Perhaps having seen the direction of her gaze, Prince Julian arrives at his sister's side after a moment. "Would you care to dance, sister?" he asks.
"I would, brother," Fiona replies, almost falling into the rhythm of Julian's speech.
Julian offers Fiona his arm and leads her out among the dancers.
Once Random and Vialle arrive, and the music begins again, Martin takes an opportune moment between accepting congratulations from the Bellum charge d'affaires and greeting the next wealthy merchant to lean over and whisper, "Shall we dance?"
Folly, who has watched Random and Vialle's entrance with an expression that would be inscrutable even without the additional obfuscation of the mask, breaks into a smile and hooks her little finger around Martin's. "Let's," she says.
Must behave myself, she thinks.
Folly has been eagerly anticipating dancing with Martin again -- it's been a while, what with his missing the Regency masque due to being lost in a time-warp. Her joy is evident in her movements.
Martin leads Folly out among the lines of dancers, who somehow organize themselves according to precedence even though no one knows who anyone else is, officially. He is about to fall into his place as the son of the youngest of the Princes when Julian meets his gaze, arching an eyebrow. Martin pauses for a moment, and Folly can feel the sudden tension in his grip. Then the moment passes, and he leads her to the head of the line instead, where he steps into the place reserved for the King's son and his lady.
And neither does this [go unnoticed], though Jerod only nods to himself.
"Don't try stealing my place, Your Highness," Vere murmurs quietly to himself.
Folly shoots Martin a little half-smile as she glides to her place. On one hand, she's well-aware that they are onstage and is willing to put on a good show. On the other, she's not about to let manners and artifice completely hijack her enjoyment of the evening, nor rob all the joy of dancing with her date.
And so, for that first dance, she keeps her movements graceful and elegant, matching Martin, making him look good, outwardly appearing for all the world like a proper young lady dancing with the son of a king.
But the minute details -- the sparkle in her eyes, the tiny smiles that occasionally pass between them as if at some private joke -- tell a different story to those few who are close enough, and paying enough attention, to notice.
Abassador Kaia bows to Jerod, and Llewella turns. Kaia's costume, a rush of flaming reds and yellows, starkly contrasts with Llewella's somber garb. "Good evening, Your Highness." say Kaia. Llewella nods her head at him slowly, so as not to disturb her headpiece.
"And to you Ambassador." Jerod replies. "You are lovely as always. An enjoyable evening so far?"
"One is so seldom at the birth of a new world that it is hardly something that I would call enjoyable, your Highness. 'Historic' or 'Monumental', or perhaps 'Fascinating'. I find you learn so much about what matters to a people by watching their ceremonies and rituals, don't you?"
"Indeed, though I've noted frequently that what people show to the outside world is not always what matters to them, but rather what they believe the outside world wants to see. Or not to see." Jerod says. "One must be careful not to confuse them."
[Kaia]
"Visual acuity makes a great deal of difference, yes."
"Let us hope these historic moments are not...now what was it that my father said once. Ah yes, something about living in interesting times. I gathered he did not consider it a favorable condition to be in."
He looks over at Llewella for a moment. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything but I was wondering if I might abscond with you for a moment, Auntie?" and he looks back at Kaia, offering a smile that is both reasonably sincere and unaffected.
"If you promise never to call me 'Auntie' again, I shall allow you to escort me to the bar." She smiles. "Unless you prefer to dance?"
"I am of a mind for both." Jerod says. "What ever you would prefer first."
"The dance floor, I believe. I believe I remember how to do this on dry land."
She lets you lead her out and take the lead in the dance. She is quite good--athletic and rhythmic and responsive to your lead. She is smiling, slightly. It is hard to tell if she is a bit bored or enjoying herself a bit.
Jerod enjoys himself dancing and is very good at it - the advantage of a court education. For him, it is nice to be able to dance with someone without having to worry about whether or not their parents have been scheming to get you married to their daughter because you're dancing with her - a refreshing change of pace.
"Everyone assumes we're either negotiating or conspiring on the matter of Rebma and Conner, of course. What can I do for you, Jerod?"
"I was going to ask you about whether you could set aside a little time before we all vanish in the next couple of days, so we could conspire about Rebma and Conner." Jerod says with a smile. "I'm not interested in doing that right now though. It would spoil the fun I intend to have tonight.
"I was more interested in how you are doing. It's been five years, at least for me."
"Well, it is vexatious that I can't go home. I would be very interested in what you've found out about the whole Conner affair, but that can wait for less pleasant circumstances. Will you be accompanying Corwin?"
"One way or the other." Jerod replies. "It depends on whether the Grand Imperial Poobah decides to set me up for some work. If he does, I'll have to figure out a polite way of ignoring his requests while getting out of town."
"If he hasn't told you by now, you may be safe. He's been indicating that he's leaving tonight."
"The problem with a king though is that they can leave these things like orders and stuff behind." Jerod says. "Though once he's outta the building its easier to ignore the orders. I can head out with Corwin once he gets his party ready. Are you going back?"
"Not immediately. I have a few things I want to see to first."
"Anything in particular?" Jerod asks.
She smiles. "You're so direct. Just like your mother. Small, personal things."
"I was always under the impression that came from dad." Jerod says. "It's good to know they both had something in common." and he laughs a little.
She smiles. "They were so alike I thought they would kill each other."
"One of grandmother's fondest wishes to be sure." Jerod replies dryly. "It will prove quite interesting to see how she will respond now that Uncle Random is in charge up here. I keep working on how to find some poor schmuck named Rosencrantz to act as messenger. Which leads me to a question. Since you're not going to be back very soon, is there any message you might want me to deliver when I arrive? Grandmother is certain to ask after you."
"She is, isn't she?" Llewella smiles. "You may wish to ask the King the same question. I am sure my sister will rapidly determine that I am not interested in being 'a poor schmuck named Rosencrantz', as you so prosaically put it. If you arrive before I do, please send my regards and tell her that I come."
"Oh, somehow I'm quite certain that a message will arrive just prior to me leaving for Rebma indicating exactly what Random wants me to say." Jerod says, a slight grin on his face as he ponders whether or not to actually follow such a message. "I'll just have to be sure to find some servant to shove into the line of fire before being announced back home. But I promise to remember to tell her of your impending arrival if I do make it back first."
For the remainder of the dance, Jerod's conversation remains light and unpolitical, in keeping with future developments.
Llewella completes the pleasant turn with you and thanks you for the dance.
Paige turns to Merlin, "It looks like the dancing will begin soon, my friend. Perhaps you should accompany Lilly on her first round the floor," she suggests.
Merlin looks a little confused, then the brickbat hits him on the head. He turns to Lilly and says, "Dame Dragon, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"
Benedict looks on, impassive.
There is a slight pause before Lilly responds as she tries to discern why exactly Paige thinks the two of them need to dance together. Quickly she decides it best not to over think the situation and revert to graciousness.
"It would be an honor." Lilly says is a soft voice as she offers Merlin her arm allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor as the music begins.
After they leave, Benedict takes a drink and says "He fears shadows, that boy. But he'll learn."
"Actually, he had reason earlier to believe you wished his demise, Uncle," Paige smiles. "But tonight's not an evening for such deep discussions."
She selects a glass of wine from a passing server, but doesn't drink, as if she just remembered something.
Benedict looks at her and her wineglass and says "How very interesting. I do not wish his demise. Why did he think I did?"
"Of course you don't, Uncle," Paige agrees. "Otherwise I doubt he'd be dancing with your daughter, well at least not this sort of dance."
Benedict nods, comfortably on his own turf again. "She would take him with the sword in three minutes. Less if she was not trying to protect his life. He is quick, though. He might surprise her with a spell."
Paige nods.
"As to the specifics of why, I fear that's Merlin's story to tell, if he cares to," she says. "I just hoped a little interaction with a Hermit might quiet his nerves. Hermits are often equated with wisdom in my readings. In fact, that Fortune appeared in a reading for Merlin last night."
"How interesting. What was the layout and where was the hermit, if I may ask?"
"A pyramid spread," Paige says, comfortably on her own turf, and intrigued that it might be Benedict's also. "The Hermit appeared reversed as the reading's Fault.
"Do you read the Fortunes, Uncle?"
"I do everything, Niece."
"Of course you do, of course.
"You'll excuse me, Uncle. It's been a pleasure, but it seems there's a devil that wishes my first dance."
He nods, and stands watching her retreat and the beginning of the dance. When Bleys notices him, he departs.
Since Merlin is behind Corwin, he and Lilly have a clear view of the lead dancers, Martin and Folly. He's very focused on Martin at first. It takes him a couple of figures to gain enough confidence in his dancing to attempt to speak to Lilly. He seems to know the steps, but perhaps this is different.
Lilly is patient and remembers to follow his lead. She is also content to let him have the first word. Small talk was not something she was particularly well suited for anyway.
"Have you danced much at court, cousin Lilly?" Merlin asks.
"I have been taught the steps but have seldom had chances to use that knowledge. I do enjoy it though. Dancing is not entirely unlike my normal exercise routines. Both involve precise movement and of course a sense of rhythm. Of all the things my foster mother tried to teach me, dance was perhaps the one I took to best." The words are accompanied with a smile that conveys Lilly's love for her foster mother and the fact that she misses her terribly.
"I can see the similarities between the exercise figures and the dance, yes," Merlin agrees. He adds, "I am afraid that I have never danced in public before. I am sorry if I am not appropriately proficient at it."
"Your technique is very good. Based on that alone I would consider you to be more than appropriately proficient especially considering the amount of experience you have had. It is a credit to your teacher." Lilly smiles gently to try to put Merlin at ease. He had a certain sweetness and awkwardness to him that she found quite charming.
"Thank you," says Merlin, brightening slightly. "Martin was my teacher. I am sure he will appreciate the compliment to his teaching, for there is little enough virtue in the student."
For a brief moment Lilly is distracted by the mental image of Martin teaching Merlin to dance. She knew there was a reason she liked the crown Prince. "I take it that you and Martin are friends as well as relations then? I knew you both had ties to Paige but a common friend is seldom reason enough for a friendship."
"Oh, I have known Martin as long as I can remember," says Merlin. "It was he who introduced me to Paige."
"I see."
Lilly takes a moment to consider the most diplomatic approach to her next query. Her curiosity however was not very patient. Before her mind could sort out the best approach she was speaking, "May I ask why you seem to be so uncomfortable around my father?"
Merlin looks ahead for a moment, as if he's taking stock of the next step from Martin's dancing. After a moment, he says, "Someone disguised as your father attacked me recently. I know it must not have been he, for I am still alive. And my assailant had two hands, which your father no longer does. Still, it was--jarring--to see him in person this evening after someone wearing his face tried to kill me."
"I see." Lilly takes a moment to consider his words. "If you discover who or what your assailant was, I would be interested in that information. Consider it a matter or family honor." In truth it was something other. It was the girl's curiosity coming into play once again. All of Amber's enemies were familiar with her father after all. It interested her to know who felt his visage might be of use and their reasons for such a thing.
"I will do that," says Merlin.
Thalia turns and looks at the entrance, where Vialle and Random have just arrived. She bows at the appropriate time and waits for one of her two companions to ask her to dance.
Reid makes the first move, offering Thalia his arm before Conner can protest. "You have the rest of the evening, but I have the moment." And with that, he whisks her off onto the dance floor.
Thalia lets herself be swept onto the dance floor with a smile for Conner.
Conner smiles back and lets Thalia be swept off with good humor.
Conner takes the opportunity to approach one of the wallflowers and encourage her on to the dance floor. Assuming a yes answer, he exchanges polite pleasantries and compliments her as they dance.
From her accent, the girl is from Garnath, and is almost overwhelmed to have the handsome, smiling Prince ask her to join him on the floor, much less offer her the pleasant courtesies a well-bred gentleman offers a young lady. Conner is quite certain he has made her evening.
[[When not dancing with Thalia or family it may be assumed he continues to make his circuits of the wallflowers.]]
Reid seems content just dancing, drawn to the music. His moves are old-fashioned, but he leads well.
Thalia is a graceful partner. "You should visit Gateway sometime, Prince Reid."
"I would very much like that. I'll admit, after some of my experiences, I'm a little leery of travel, but within the Golden Circle, things shouldn't be too bad. Perhaps when things have quieted down here I may be free to take some time off. Tell me, what do you miss most about your homeland?" Reid replies.
"The air is like wine, my lord, lush and subtle and flavorful. Amber was the only place I ever visited that was anything like it."
"And the people?" Reid prods.
"Not nearly so varied as Amber's, my lord, but more familiar to me and possessing a subtlety and depth which I know well."
After Aisling and he visit Fiona (he remains quietly "there." Not protective, exactly, not eavesdropping, exactly, but somehow still "there" without being intrusive.) and Aisling asks him who he looks for, [Marius] will indicate the arrival of the King and Queen. "Shall we pay our respects?" he asks her, amusedly.
"If it would delight you," Aisling says, with a slight smile and the poise of a Greek statue.
After Marius and Aisling pay their respects to the King and Queen (unless Madeline or the Collective wish to play it out, I expect it is as perfunctory as that) and after he and Aisling share a dance (I believe was the plan somewhere in there) he pulls back as Aisling glitters and prances across the floor in a shimmering flutter.
Marius will head towards the refreshments (I'm assuming there are some) keeping an eye on Vialle for a bit.
As the King and Queen of all Reality glide into the crowded room, Robin watches with open curiosity. After all, this is exactly the time and place for gawking. Something she's avoided assiduously earlier, trying to at least minimize the 'savage from Arden'-ness of herself. But now... the halted high society, the respectful giants of her kindred, the silence of the caged birds. Strange. Eerie even. And something that makes her long all the more for the quiet understandable forests of her home.
The girl's head cocks as Vialle claps and makes her announcement. But she's not really sure what to make of it. And then, the music starts. Cold dread sleets down the Robin's spine for a moment, before she pulls herself together. It's okay, her father and her brother are here. And she can too do this. She has to.
As Kourin and Jovian head for the dance floor for what Robin expects is an important dance, being the first one, she finds herself standing next to... Him. In all his grey etherealness and fine careful phrasing.
And again, waves of conflict wash through the Ranger. The infernal desire to blush and stare at the floor or to... giggle! Gaaah! Giggle!? Where did that come from? Other flares she's more used to; the 'grab him, take him' of her unfettered and uncivilized background. But, but Robin suspects that... might not be a great idea, given the man and the situation. And somehow, amazingly, it seems to her to be really, really important to get it right.
So, in the end she fights back all the swells and the burns, and turns to Vere as calmly as she can. "Do you know this dance, Vere?" she asks casually. But her eyes flash and glimmer and Robin suspects at this point that she should have worn more concealing clothing.
Vere, who had been observing with concealed interest the various pairings taking place for the symbolically important first dance, turns to face Robin as she begins to speak. "I do indeed know the dance, Lady Robin," he says. "And I would be truly honoured and greatly pleased if you would care to partner me for it." He lifts his right hand, palm up, and tilts his head questioningly.
It turns out that 'as calmly as she can' doesn't last very long. Excitement and delight flare up in Robin with an almost audible 'fooomph.' And a little wriggle of joy goes through her body, she got both a 'truly' and a 'greatly', woo-hoo! The big happy smile that lights the girl's face as she lays her hand in Vere's is a beacon bright enough to bring sailors home on a stormy night.
It occurs to the Ranger that there are probably some words that should happen in here somewhere, but she's once again in that place that doesn't have words. So she nods, with enough zest to set the beads in her hair clicking gaily.
Vere leads her to their place in the set without words, and as they wait for the musicians to begin he muses to himself, just loud enough for Robin to hear, "Now how does this go exactly, ah yes, I remember..." and proceeds to quickly describe the dance, allowing himself to make quick miniature versions of the steps as he describes hem. To anyone watching it would look as if he were simply going over the dance quickly as an aid to his own memory.
A delighted chuckle shakes the Huntress as she carefully watches her partner's footwork. Quickly, she clamps a hand over her mouth before the dreaded giggle can emerge, but her eyes are twinkling with merriment.
And gratitude. That Vere could forget anything... no one who knew him would believe that for an instance. But the gesture is sooo sweet.
Robin's so light that she doesn't even notice the spin-flourish she puts on the bow as she tucks it back over one shoulder and through her girdle. As unconscious and expert as return of katana to its sheath or the twirl of a six-gun back to its holster.
And as free. As Robin listens and sees -- for a moment -- the weight of eyes and walls is gone. And there is only Vere and herself.
When the dance begins he starts each step an instant before it is actually called for by the music, allowing Robin to copy him without falling behind, and he uses gentle pressure of the hands and quick motions of the eyes to indicate where she should be going and what she should be doing, again without being so obvious as to allow anyone watching to realize that Robin has never danced the dance before.
The Huntress is entirely humming observance of her partner, flowing into his music, swirling around his center, bubbling to his rhythm. Vere is a strong enough current that Robin has no difficulty matching him whatsoever. She dances in easy and carefree movements, her confidence in Vere allowing her to become the merry trickle of rain, the joyous chuckle of the brook, the excited rush of the river and the thunder of the waterfall.
The instant acceptance and understanding of gentle pressures and the motions of eyes - the Ranger is so responsive, it's as though Robin was native to a similar method of communication. And only spoke words as a second language.
As the dance progresses Vere allows the perfect precision of his steps to alter, matching Robin's carefree manner, and making the two of them a balanced pair, a living extension of the music. Mist in rain, fog over the rushing river, the melding of water and air that make up the waterfall. Words are unnecessary, and Vere doesn't bother with them, although a delighted laugh of pure joy escapes him from time to time. For the duration of the dance, there is nothing of importance in all the world save the two of them and their dance.
Vere's laughter is returned in exultant swells and rivulets from Robin, like the dappled and dancing sunlight across running streams, bright and joyous.
And when the music ends he sweeps her a bow, rises, and locks eyes with her for an instant that seems timeless. Then he takes her hand in his and says, "My thanks, my lady." His eyes say the words are a pale reflection of what his heart feels at this moment.
As the dance reaches its inevitable conclusion at the sea, Robin flows to a slow swirl of deep eddies, still but not motionless. Her chest rising and falling in deep breaths, taking in the air that has flowed through and around her, that has made her so light.
Vere's eyes, grey as the morning's mist, hold her forever. And there she burns in emerald fire across the water's surface. The touch of skin to skin, palm to palm, sends a bolt of skyfire through her and the smile of a lifetime fills Robin's visage.
There just are... no words for this moment.
Given the tendency of couples to line up in order by the gentleman's place in precedence, Jovian can't help but notice some of this. His mask is effective at hiding his reactions in the whirl of motion, but at the dance's conclusion, he spares a few seconds after the reverance to beam at his sister, and nod, however microscopically, at their Danu cousin.
It is the motion of red in the corner of her view that finally wakes Robin back to the world around her. She comes back to herself with an almost audible 'snap' and once again, she's an awkward undressed girl in the most powerful court in the universe. But her smile is still in her heart.
"Vere." So much, and yet not nearly enough in that one word. "Thank you."
Vere nods to her, his face returning to its normal calm expression. He nods a brief acknowledgment to Jovian, then takes Robin's arm in his. "By custom," he explains, "After each dance your partner is expected to escort you from the dance floor. Some men will escort you to where they think you should go. A greater number will escort you back to where you stood when they asked you to dance. Those who are worthy of having danced with you will ask where you wish to be escorted." He raises an eyebrow.
A happy ruffle runs through Robin at feeling her arm coiled through Vere's. Somehow it's not at all like having a wing bound, more like being supported by a warm breeze. And she beams at the Danu during the explanation, so elegantly put and yet simple and understandable. A chuckle answers the raised eyebrow, Vere's sense of humor... as fine as everything else about him.
"Weeellll," the girl's bright eyes dart over to where Big Brother is watching. She wrinkles her nose in Jovian's direction with laughter twinkling in her eyes. Beyond him, further down the line of dancers, is the white figure of her father disengaging from his own dance. And the whisp of Julian's dry voice drifts through Robin's head, '... as long as you behave with reasonable discretion.'
Looking back at Vere, the Huntress represses her natural instinct to throw the man over her shoulder and head for the bushes. Instead, "Maybe something to drink?" is the best she can come up with.
Vere nods. "An excellent suggestion," he says. "Would you prefer the reflecting pool of champagne, or shall we choose from a wider selection of drinks?" He beings heading across the dance floor, escorting Robin on a path not quite in the direction of either of those side rooms while waiting for her decision. He tilts his head slightly to one side, half-looking at her. "I do not know your favourite drink," he says. "I should."
"Maybe not champagne." Robin chuckles, "That ice thing is just..." she shrugs, "outre."
"And don't worry about not knowing my favorite drink. There isn't any of it here, so I could never have ordered it anywhere that the rumor might have reached your ears." She grins up at him _not quite telepathic yet Vere, but still damn good._
"As close as this place comes is... gin, I guess." Robin mentally tastes various things, matching them to Stoke's pure homebrewed poison. A fond smile crosses her face at the memory of the ranger's rattling, hissing stills, the odors that would drift through the Mews when the wind blew foul and many, many nights spent around the bonfire...
"What about you, Vere? You drink?" Frank curiosity shines in Robin's eyes.
"A variety of drinks," Vere replies, "although my preference is pear cider." He leads her towards the side room dedicated to beverages, nodding in passing to various people they pass, but moving just quickly enough that no one has a chance to stop them for conversation. "Here we are." He catches a passing waiter's eye and requests their drinks. "Straight gin, I assume?" he asks Robin.
A warm chuckle shakes her. "Well, now I'm tempted to ask for it with pineapple, a little umbrella and maybe a plastic monkey hanging off the side... but yeah, straight it is." She smiles.
Vere chuckles quietly, and accepts the drinks from the servant with murmured thanks. He hands Robin her gin, and takes a small sip of his cider.
Since Vere is doing the actual thanking, Robin just smiles her thanks. The girl obviously does not know how to treat a servant as invisible, no matter how invisible they want to be. The Ranger raises an eyebrow at her glass as she takes it, though -- so small and with so little in it. Ah well, strange place. She takes what can only be called a slug of gin, tasting it briefly on the way down.
"Pear cider is good too." The Huntress comments thoughtfully. "Tastes like fall."
Vere tilts his head to one side. "An interesting phrase," he says. "Not one I would have used." He pauses and considers it for a moment. "I understand it, though. Extremely descriptive, as are most of your statements."
Robin's eyes twinkle. She loves watching Vere analyze apply generalize. It's like watching a small spider spin out a web, delicate, beautiful, strong, useful.
"I suppose I can be quite the evocateur at times." She shrugs, "It's not something I try to do. It just happens. And with this crowd." Those green eyes roll in exasperation.
Vere makes a quiet inquisitive sound in the back of his throat.
The Huntress dips her head bashfully. Then a rueful chuckle, "You know. I'm going to have to change my precepts. When I first got here... I thought of the denizens of Amber as one pack. A people who, yes, had different agendas, but who spoke a common language and common understandings." There's a hint in her words, that that commonality may not have been something Robin wanted to back.
Robin takes another slug, emptying her glass. She looks at the tumbler, momentarily puzzled. Then she looks back to Vere. "But the more I try to talk to people lately, the more I think... all of us, or at least many of us, feel as alien here as I do. The languages we use are very different. And the understandings? Elusive."
"So, now I'm faced with the two-fold, On the one path -- keep your cards to your chest, don't let them pawn you, show no weakness. The other?" She smiles at the Danu and ennunciates carefully, "Hello, Vere. My name is Robin. I barely speak Court Thari but I'd like to get to know you better." A wry and rueful grin spreads across her face.
"Lady Robin," Vere bows. "I am Vere." He straightens and regards her seriously. "All that I am, I am willing to make known to you. All that I have, I will place at your service. Your smile brings light to a darkness I did not know existed."
A shuddering breath goes into the girl. "Oh, Vere." One hand trembles as it raises to her lips.
Then boom, supernova! Robin flares bright enough it's amazing the flash-shadows of the other people in the room aren't burnt permanently into the walls. She shouts joyfully, an inarticulate sound of pure happiness. Energies surge through the girl. Her whole body is illuminated with bliss and waves of warm delight wash out from her center.
And she throws herself toward the Danu, intent on snatching him up into a fierce embrace.
A surprised laugh escapes Vere, and for an instant he loses himself in the moment, his arms going around Robin and holding her tightly. Then she feels him tense, and as he pushes her gently away he whispers, "This is not the time nor place, my lady."
Robin's hug is like being wrapped in a cougar; warm and wild with a purring thrum going through her diaphragm. She obviously enjoys physical contact and the girl rubs her cheek along Vere's shoulder, eyes closed in blissful content.
The moment the man tenses though, Robin freezes. She is already moving to disengage when Vere releases her, not clinging, even though she really, really wants to stay where she is.
"Okay," she whispers back with a small nod. Her green eyes turn to the Danu. She doesn't truly understand, but she does trust. And she doesn't want to hurt him by... anything.
Vere begins to speak as she moves away, but her eyes catch his and whatever he was about to say is lost. For a while he just gazes at her, a look of mild astonishment on his face.
Sparkling eyes smile as Robin looses her words again, heart burning, head spinning. In the end, she touches her lips with tender fingers, and gently places them on Vere's chest over his heart. And smiles blissfully again. She can't make promises; her whole world, her whole self has changed so much recently. But she can love and she can try.
As Robin's fingers touch his chest Vere's eyes close to slits, and a tightly controlled shiver runs through his body. His right hand comes up, and lightly touches the back of her hand over his heart.
Then his eyes snap open, and a rueful chuckle escapes him. "The universe has a cruel and wicked sense of humor, my lady," he says. He shakes his head. "There are things I must tell you. Things you must know before making any decisions." He looks around, only now realizing how very public they are, and how rumors are no doubt already spreading out from them in ripples throughout the crowd. Deliberately, he takes a half step away from her, his face resuming the polite mask that is his normal expression.
Robin cocks her head, and ruffles her shoulders. "Okay," she murmurs, "Too fast. Time. I... should go? Dance with others? Make other scenes?" _So you won't be singled out?_
The Huntress tries to match Vere's donning of the public face, but she doesn't have one as polished or one she is at ease with. Instead, she just dims. But a little smile remains on her lips as she lowers her arm, turns to the side and lets her eyes slide away to the rest of the room.
"It might be wise," he replies quietly. He turns away as well, so that they are standing side by side, watching the others in the room. "Until we have had a chance to talk," he says. "Until we have come to some decisions."
Vere finds that they are the subject of significant amounts of attention and notices that more than one whispered side conversation seems to stop abruptly when his attention turns back to the room.
"Weeeelll," a warm chuckle shakes the Huntress as she continues to speak sotto voce. "No one has ever accused me of wisdom before." She grins to 'herself' though her eyes dart sideways.
"But for me?" Robin ruffles again, a happy undertone to the set of her shoulders, "Decision's made. Now it's just prep-work for the horrific consequences." She smiles sideways to the Danu, her eyes lit with teasing. But underswelled with the knowledge that her statement might not be metaphorical. Still, she's game. Nothing worth having comes without work. And challenges are a good thing to the Ranger.
"Very well, then." Robin turns back to Vere, formally bows and speaks in a normal tone of voice. "I find that I must take my leave of you, Grey One. For there is yet more dancing and others who may await me." Oh, those eyes are still sparkling though.
It is somewhat striking how suddenly several of the wallflowers, matrons of society and such, all are moving at once. Almost as if in response to some external stimulus.
"Indeed." Vere gives her a formal bow, his face set in a polite but not overly familiar expression. But at the lowest point in the bow he pauses for just an instant, flicks his eyes up at her, and winks. Then he straightens, turns, and walks over to a servant, where he negotiates an exchange of an empty glass for a full one.
If Robin is aware of the fluttering around the room, she doesn't seem to take any notice of it. As she wanders out, the girl notices the empty tumbler in her hand. Momentarily perplexed, she stashes the glass in the base of a handy standing plant. Then drifts off into the main room, a vanishing glowing figure among the glowing swirling constellations already therein.
Last modified: 15 May 2003