OOC: This Thread has come from: The Dessert Table (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15587.msg156752#msg156752). See Rules of the Table before joining! Thanks!
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Davishire wasn't having the best evening- but it most certainly was interesting. He he just been clocked by a girl, (and just before that, making another one cry!), and he could have had a terrible confrontation with her brother as well had the second sister not showed up to hit him. His jaw was still smarting as he rubbed it, and in doing so, reminded him of the irksome cleft on his chin. His finger now prodding it thoughtfully, as he had gone out to the veranda for some fresh air. The gardens, being too far away from the study (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15606.msg157450#msg157450) (in which he had just come), were not an option, but the veranda offered a nice breezeway as he found himself, alone, and leaning against the stone balcony that over looked the entire city of Reajh.
At this hour, the lamp lights from the city were sparkling, and making the layers of the enormous city appearing like the starry skies. It was a beautiful sight, something peaceful, and for the moment, he was distracted from the events that had just occurred. The Treyburns, by reputation, were an interesting bunch but sadly, he knew nothing was said better of his own.
It's why he gave calloused looks and appeared sour- for he was. Nothing good came of his family, and he almost wished he wasn't of their blood. Taking a drink to his lips, he decided against it and set his filled goblet down upon the tops of the stone balcony and brooded-
and soon his thoughts went back to the quirky young girl and her tower of books....
Thinking it was at first empty, Dahlia's stepped onto the veranda with a bit of bluster, no longer wearing the mask of social poise. She needed fresh air and, more importantly, space. There was no way, she was realizing, that she would make it through the entire night making nice and pretending she was fine with all of this. The entrance of the Grand Duke into the fray with Valia made her realize that. It was sickening, having an elaborate soiree like this when there was a war going on. A real war, in which people's sons and husbands were dying. Her husband. And she prayed not her son.
She realized a moment later that she was not, in fact, alone and took a moment to take in the brooding figure of Lord Davishire. He still had his back to her, overlooking the city. He radiated unhappiness, or at least unpleasantness, and Dahlia didn't know yet that her siblings had anything to do with it. Taking a deep breath to collect herself, Dahlia joined him at the stone railing.
"Well," she said dryly by way of a greeting, "it looks like that makes two of us having a lovely night."
Broken from his thoughts, he peered over out of the corner of his eyes. Despite her 'charming' words (for he couldn't' deny he could read that body language on her of displeasure herself), he could not help but notice- ah..
it was that another Treyburn. He could have scoffed,a nd perhaps he did, before he turned his eyes from her and back towards the city.
He was never a man to enjoy such social occasions, and at her words, he mulled them over, trying to regard if he was even 'allowed' to speak to any of the Treyburn women after this day.
Instead, he settled into a sigh and looked away, before replying,
"Yes, and the night has barely even begun."
Dahlia gave the man a sidelong look when he scoffed, but appeared unfazed by the apparent rebuff. Her anger was elsewhere and, anyway, the Lord Davishire was not known to be either sociable or particularly kind, so she let it roll off her back. Instead, she gave a little snort of agreement to his comment, leaning with her elbows on the stone railing and looking out over Reajh instead of at her 'companion.'
"I can't honestly pretend I expected to enjoy it from the outset," she remarked. Whether she took Davishire's silence as an invitation to speak, or if she was simply venting and he happened to be there was not entirely clear. "It's ridiculous, having a grand ball when the country is being torn apart by this idiotic war." Dahlia's disgust was evident in her voice and she made no real effort to hide it. "As if putting on fancy dress and masks should make us forget that men and women are dying all the time. Boys shepherded into the army like they're heros instead of babies. And to fight against who? Their neighbors?" Now it was Dahlia's turn to scoff. "And most of them do forget, the wretched fools."
If Dahlia was being overly candid, she didn't seem to care. She just looked over the glitter of the city's lamplight and shook her head.
Lord Davishire, not a fan of the war itself, listened to her words quietly. It seemed this woman had a lot to get off her chest, though she was seeking solace in a man hardly fit to give it. After all, he still felt a bit jarred from his run in with her younger sister- and older brother.. and even younger sister..
His chin, at least, no longer smarted as he continued to stare at the glittering lights of Reajh.
"Wars are a crime on all levels," he said simply. Though he had not been directly affected by the war, he understood the horrors of it well enough. "Keep it up long enough, the snake will continue eating it's own tail. And never know any better..." He looked down to his drink. Why had he even got a second one? Oh well. He took a light sip, and continued to look back out at the city, one hand clasped behind his back.
((Super short post for Spice because I should be asleep!))
Dahlia just seethed in silence for several moments. Who was this man to comment to her on the horrors of war? But At least Davishire had said nothing to make matters worse. But Dahlia realized she couldn't be angry and unsociable the entire night. So, exhaling sharply toco pose herself, she turned to face Davishire. She'd been about to ask him what had set his night off to a poor start. Wen she did, though, she noticed through his maks a growing discoloration around his eye.
"I'm sorry, ah, but Lord Davishire," she asked with mild surprise, "were you in a fight?"
He was enjoying, at least, for the moment, her relative silence. It's what he came out there for anywyas. ANd to clear his head, not fill it with more tension and woes from other females! He had enough drama to worry about from the 'Queen of Aerona' but then-
Angsar help him! This woman spoke again!
And this time- directed at him.
He felt his brow twitched as a sharp eye turned towards her, but his body did not- and at this angle, in the moonlight, he looked every bit like a savage wolf.
"You'll hear about the incident soon enough, Lady Treburn. Or.. I suppose it's Lady Gray. Do enjoy your evening." He bowed to her hten moved to leave (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15590.msg158012#msg158012).
(OOC: Just going to throw Fi at you! Because I can! Feel free to decide she's too odd to speak to, though!)
Fiona is entering from Dark Chocolate Eclairs (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15605.msg157781#msg157781)
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As Davishire left, a voice piped up from Dahlia's right. It was an adult voice, but there was a childlike lilt to it. "If ye're a Treyburn, t'was yer sister tha' done the fightin'. Somethin' 'bout 'im bein' a creep fer makin' yer other sister cry."
The redhead the stepped out of the shadows was a pretty thing. Her slight frame was clothed in an old-fashioned blue dress, and an array of colorful flowers and ribbons had been braided into her hair. She was barefoot and moved with a feline grace as she leaned against the railing beside the woman.
Her age was difficult to pinpoint; her maskless face was that of a teenager -- 17, perhaps? -- but there was something else lurking in her eyes that gave the impression she was far older.
"Are ye alrigh'?"
Or... I suppose it's Lady Gray.
Dahlia couldn't keep the sneer off of her face at that offense, whether it had been intended or not. Suppose! What was that supposed to mean?! Dahlia had been Dahlia Gray for almost as long as she'd been out in society, and she at the first event she comes to, she gets 'Lady Treyburn Or... I suppose it's Lady Gray.'
Dahlia had half the mind to hit him herself! The haughty bastard.
But that didn't stop Dahlia from letting out a small groan when a voice told her that it had been her sister who'd hit him in the first place. "Of course it was. Good god. I don't understand why we can't just lock Janette in her room on nights like this."
Wait, did she say something about making another sister cry?
"Sorry, what was that?" Dahlia asked, turning to the girl and seeing her now for the first time. She didn't recognize her, but she was young so that wasn't a huge surprise. She didn't know everyone here anyway. But... she was young, right? Dahlia looked at her again. There was something about the barefoot girl that just seemed... off.
"Oh, I'm fine, but thank you," she said, forcing courtesy back into her voice. "Should I ask what you heard about the incident? Or, worse, saw? Or am I better off in ignorance for awhile?"
Entrance from: Triple Chocolate Cake (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15606.20)
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Illi fumbled into the veranda, tripping over... well, the floor. She caught herself with the railing, but not before all the contents of her drink spilled out onto the abyss below. Her mouth dropped open with shock. With her luck, some dashing fellow was probably hit. Well, at least she heard no one shouting.
Her fall was caused by her seemingly notorious loss of balance, not by the wine that had recently been in her cup. In fact, Illi had been given the wine less than ten seconds beforehand and hadn't even taken a sip out of it. Looking down at its emptiness with dismay, Illi was starting to wonder if the cups were cursed.
Standing back up straight and composing herself again, Illi decided that (hopefully) no one was soaked with blood red poison this time around. Instead, she went to focusing on looking for someone who had already been a 'victim' of her clumsiness, as he liked to say. Davishire.
But it didn't take long for Illi to find out that he wasn't on the veranda, contrary to information she had received by one of the many old ladies at the party. Dahlia, however, was there. And some other lady who looked a bit... different.
While custom may dictate that Illi should introduce herself to the latter, she was in a rush. So she merely gave her a respectful nod before turning to Dahlia. "Have you seen Davishire?" asked Illi quickly. If her sister was observant enough, she might notice the redness that was still plaguing Illi's eyes. Of course, that could easily be contributed to drinking instead of crying, especially with her unique entrance.
"Ah only 'eard a wee bit," Fi answered with a thoughtful smile as she turned her attention out over the lawn to admire the view. It certainly was quite pretty... "There was a talkin' bear, a butterfly, and...well, Ah s'pose she was a princess o' some sor'. Ye know, Ah jes' realized... There's a lot o' talkin' animals 'ere t'night."
The new voice drew her attention away from the view, then, and her smile widened into a bright grin. "Ah, princess! 'Ello! D'ye feel better now?"
Jillian made her grand entrance before Dahlia got an answer from the strange red-haired girl. Dahlia gave a resigned sigh as her younger sister stumbled and blustered out onto the veranda, only caught by the stone railing. And there went her drink. Well, it looked like she was going to have to look after the younger girls after all, regardless of whatever she'd told Redly. It was immediately clear that Jillian had been the crying sister in question, between her flustered attitude and red-rimmed eyes. And, of course, her asking for Davishire.
"Hold up there, Illi," Dahlia instructed calmly. She managed not to sound nagging or maternal, though, but very much the older sister. Truly, Dahlia probably wouldn't let anyone go without a word after they'd almost thrown themselves off a veranda, spilled their drink, then asked desperately after a man. But least of all her sisters!
"You're acting like a mess," she said bluntly and raised an eyebrow at her younger sister. "Want to tell me what's up?" Though her tone was casual - she wasn't, after all, Illi's mother - something in her tone said this wasn't really optional. "I've heard some exciting stories," she added, inclining her head to Fi.
Illi almost corrected the red head about her being a queen, not a princess, but then decided the better of it. She'd sound snarky.
With a deep breath, Illi figured there was no use lying to her sister. First off, she didn't really lie. Second off, there was no doubt in her mind that Dahlia would catch her. But... that didn't mean she had to tell the whole truth.
"Cherie got a little wild with her fist..." explained Illi, much slower this time. Surely Dahlia wouldn't get mad at the youngest—or too mad, at least. "She hit Davishire's face, and it was kind of my fault. So I have to apologize to him. I feel horrible." She paused before adding, "And even if Cherie didn't do any damage, I'm sure Braxton didn't help. He sounded like he was planning on doing just the same—and I think we both know that Braxton is much stronger than little Cherie."
Dahlia looked skeptically at her sister. Unfortunately for Jillian, Dahlia was also a mother and had no problem seeing through Jillian's attempt at only telling half-truths.
(Though, inwardly, she was thinking, 'Oh lord, Cherie? Then who knows what Janette is up to!')
"And Cherie hit him for no reason? And Brax just threatened him for fun?" She gave Illi a look that said 'come on, I'm not stupid.' Dahlia gave a little sigh and beckoned for her sister to come over to her. Dahlia adjusted Illi's dress where it had gone askew.
"Look, Illi," she said, her voice gentle now. "You don't have to make up - or censor - stories with me. I'm not Mom. But think about what's going on if you feel like you have to make things up. I admit I don't know all the details, but I think it's generally a red flag if someone makes you cry and then you feel like you need to chase after them for you to apologize."
Dahlia looked over Jillian, her hands on her sister's shoulders. When had she grown up so much? Though she tried to fight it, to some extent all of her younger siblings would always be the age they were when Dahlia left home. But they weren't and Jillian wasn't a little girl anymore. And, her previous interaction with Davishire aside, she was trying to give Illi impartial advice.
"Also," Dahlia tried to give Jillian a faux-stern look, but couldn't help from grinning, "if you can't hold onto your drink, maybe you should ease up."
As Jillian and Dahlia spoke, Fiona remained silent; there was no reason to interrupt the pair. She seated herself on the rail and wrapped her arms around one of the support beams, snuggling against the unyielding stone as she watched the pair with a pretty smile.
It was so perfect, so normal. It was beautiful.
(OOC: In other words, no reason to wait on Fi!)
A wide smile spread across Illi's face as her sister tried to scold her. Dahlia just wasn't intense enough for Illi to take her completely seriously. She listened to her words and advice, of course, but Redly saying the same thing would have had much larger of an impact.
Lifting her cup up into the air, Illi laughed and replied, "If you mean in the literal sense, then I suppose I did fail at keeping my drink in my cup. But in terms of getting drunk, well, I haven't drank anything yet tonight! I've been too busy." With Davishire. "It's these heels—they're ruining my balance." Then again, all the Treyburns knew that she had some balancing problems. Unless a book was in her hands, Illi was just about the clumsiest Treyburn there was.
Illi reached and gave her sister a quick hug before continuing on her speech, but a little more seriously. "I'm twenty-eight now, Dahlia. I'm not stupid. And the only reason I wasn't telling you the whole story was because I didn't want you to overreact... like Braxton and Cherie did." She moved to lean against the railing and took a deep breath of the air. It was a lot stuffier inside, so the fresh air felt nice and cleared her head some.
"Anyway, here's the whole story. Since I get the feeling that you will pester me and won't let me go until you know it. I met Davishire, the Wolf, and we had a brief conversation that ended with me spilling wine—which I also hadn't drank, I might add—onto his costume." She paused and then sheepishly added, "You probably saw the stain... Continuing on, he was obviously upset. I mean, I got wine on his costume. And he made a comment about how life isn't a fairy tale—ah, that was related to something else. You wouldn't get the reference." After all, she doubted her sister knew the story behind the Queen and the Wolf. "But, anyway, I couldn't let him believe that. I mean, no wonder he was so sour."
With a mischievous smile, Illi continued with her hands getting more animated, "So I went to the library to search for some fairy tales. But not just any fairy tales, of course. I was looking for real fairy tales. Stories that seem like they couldn't possibly be true, but are. Well, I got a huge pile of those. They're still in the library, if you're interested in checking those out. I found Davishire, or, rather, he found Avery and me, and the mood kind of darkened. I don't know why. But I showed him one of the books and he started yelling at me."
She took a deep breath and her smile completely vanished. "At first I thought he was upset over the fact that I was touching some antique books. Which he was, but that didn't seem to be the main reason. It turned out that the first story I told him about was actually connected to his family, and he took personal offense at it. I felt horrible. After all, how could I not notice that? He even introduced himself. Heck, the character in the book has the exact same last name! Nonetheless, I was ignorant and he was obviously offended. I couldn't help but cry—I honestly tried not to—and that's when Braxton and Cherie came in." She laughed before quickly adding, "Well, you know what followed."
Inwardly, Dahlia sighed. She hadn't meant to scold her sister; she'd have said the same to someone her own age acting the same. Sometimes, especially at parties it seemed, people just needed to be told to slow down and think about what they were doing. And it always seemed in this patriarchal society women were far too often trying to get the approval of men who wronged them. (Though she couldn't help but think that "I'm twenty-eight, I'm not stupid!" sounded rather petulant). And Dahlia found herself distractedly wondering just how old her younger siblings viewed her as Jillian went through her story.
In the end, she just gave her sister an amused smile and raised an eyebrow. "Really? You can picture me punching a man at a ball?" Not that she'd never wanted to.
But she sighed and shook her head. Really, Dahlia just wanted to go home. This whole soiree was proving exhausting, and her tiredness showed in her voice. "Look, Illi, I'm not trying to tell you what to do or what not to do and you certainly don't have to explain yourself to me. I just don't think I'd be much of a sister - or a friend - if I let you run straight off after how you ran in."
Thankfully before Dahlia had time to think about whether or not she was obligated to say something about chasing after cruel men with bad tempers (who should be apologizing to her, not the other way around.), music from the ballroom reached the veranda.
"There you go. I'm sure you'll find him in there. You probably don't never need to run," she couldn't help but adding with a wry grin. Dahlia showed no intention of following Jillian in, though, "I should probably find Riley. The last time I saw him he was tugging around some poor lord..." Really, Dahlia just didn't have the energy to be charming and dance with strangers, but she also needed to find her son. That much was true!
Illi smiled at Dahlia's joke about punching a man... but honestly, she could see it. All of her siblings would fight for each other, even if they were fighting with each other. It's just how it worked. Though maybe Dahlia would be more of the yeller than the puncher...
But once the music started, Illi barely heard anything her sister said. Instead she looked towards the music and her excitement skyrocketed. She could finally dance! Maybe she'd meet some mysterious prince and share a few sweet words with him. It would be so romantic. But, first, she had to talk to Davishire.
She turned back to her sister with a hopeless grin on her face. "I think I'll excuse myself now. And I promise, I won't embarrass myself any further!" Illi curtsied for her sister, then for the other girl, and then she walked out... calmly, composed, and once again full of confidence.
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Exit to: Waltz of the Sugar Plum Candies (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15643.0)
Dahlia watched Illi run off again with a slightly bemused look. "Yeah, good talk..." she said to the empty place where her sister had been. Well, at least she wouldn't have to come up with any excuses for not joining Illi.
Oh Illi. Dahlia wondered vaguely if she didn't underestimate the girl's silliness a bit.
Dahlia was wondering if maybe she wasn't a bit obliged to go dance. But at about that time she heard someone roar her family name and an ensuing scuffle inside. And, on second thought, she decided, she would stay just where she was. And if anyone asked, she was a Gray!
So, for now, Dahlia leaned over the stone railing again, content until the night chill got the better of her to look out over the glittering lights of Reajh.
"Big families are fun," Fiona murmured from where she sat against the pillar. "Ah always fel' a wee bit bad fer those 'oo weren't so lucky. Ya miss a lot o' things, I think. Ye mus' be one o' the older siblings. Ye've got the same look as me brother when the rest o' us are gettin' into trouble."
She scooted sideways so that she could straddle the railing, thus able to look out over the city and speak to Dahlia at the same time. It wasn't really a very ladylike way to sit, but Fiona seemed not to mind, and her skirt was long enough that it wasn't terrible inappropriate. "There were six o' us, all told. 'Ow many siblings d'ye 'ave?"
Dahlia had just begun wondering if maybe she ought to stop moping and go back into the ball when the Fiona spoke. Dahlia startled. She'd forgotten entirely about the strange girl in the whirl of Jillian's blusterous appearance. "You think so?" was her response to Fi's first comment about how big families are 'fun.' Sometimes Dahlia wondered...
But she looked up at the girl, now straddling the railing, when Fiona remarked that Dahlia must be one of the older siblings because of her 'look' and she gave a little sigh. But she had to laugh at the question 'how many siblings do you have?'
"Too many!" came her quick answer, and she smiled for a moment. "I'm in the middle, more or less. I'm number five of eleven." Or, at least, she had been when she was a child. "But I suppose, in practice, I'm number the third of nine. I don't know, though. I just have three - and that'll be it, for me - and I think they get on fine."
Really, Dahlia thought they got on better, but she didn't say so.
"Are all six of you here? You must be far better than my lot at staying out of trouble if you are!"
Fi blinked as she ran through the numbers Dahlia had just presented. She had gotten lost somewhere between eleven and three and was just about willing to take 'too many' as her answer.
"Oh," she answered, looking every bit as confused as she felt. When the question turned to her own family, however, she simply said, "They're dead."
Silence hung between them as Fiona studied the city lights, and then, abruptly, as if coming back from some far away place, she looked back to Dahlia with a broad smile. "Except two o' me brothers. Laighean and Draven are 'ere somewhere. At least, that's what the kitteh tol' me. But Ah 'aven't foun' 'em yet, 'cause I don't know what kind o' talkin' animals they are."
The smile faded, then. "Ye've lost someone too, 'aven't ye? 'Cause o' fightin'?"
Stepping onto the veranda, Lord Edward Draven was happy to find some time to himself. Though the veranda was mostly vacant, he found, after already leaning against the stone balcony with a tired sigh, that he wasn't alone. He only gave one small look to the others. He had to do a double take to the girl leaning precariously on the balcony, perching on it like some sort of a cat, but figured the other woman- perhaps, had it covered. Even still, he sheepishly cast a look their way- just in case they might need some assistance as he began to realize the masked bird looked familiar, and a dopey smile graced his features. It was Riley's mom! And as he stood there, he contemplated ways to approach, but held back still, just admiring the pair from a distance.
Now Dahlia really was startled. She looked at Fiona a long time, unsure what to say to the girl's insight. She wondered if it was so obvious to everyone, or just to this strange girl.
"Yes," she answered at length. "I lost my husband. We were together for quite a long time. It's..."
Dahlia didn't know what to say. Words to describe how she'd felt at the loss, how she still felt, escaped her. She didn't even notice the appearance of a third party on the veranda just then. She stared at Fiona for several moments longer before coming back to herself again.
"I'm sorry about your family."
"Aye, and Ah'm sorry too." As if she had no concept of etiquette, she scooted forward to hug the other woman gently. It was a warm, loving hug, as if they had always been dear friends.
"Ah know. It's nae easy. Losin' those ye love before their time never gets easy." Releasing her, she offered the woman a smile. "But ye're a brave lass. Ah can tell. Ye 'ave to 'ave faith in the world, and ye'll find color again. Ye just 'ave to be willin' to look." She giggled softly and leaned forward, lifting her chin slightly in the direction of the man on the other end of the baloney. "Like 'ow 'e is lookin' at ye."
At first, Dahlia froze, surprised and thrown off her balance, but after half a beat, she returned Fiona's hug. As strange as her mannerisms were, Dahlia felt there was something genuine in the girl.
She gave Fiona a small smile and was about to say something about her seeming an awful lot older than her years, when the girl gestured to the entrance of the veranda. Like how who is looking at who? Dahlia's eyes followed Fiona's and she almost jumped when she saw Edward there. Somehow, while talking to Fiona, Dahlia had almost forgotten she was at a ball.
She looked quickly back to Fiona. "But I don't even know him!" she whispered.
Well, that wasn't strictly true. She'd seen him earlier in the night at Oscar's little fiasco with Lady Valia. And, of course, she'd seen Riley talking with him before that, and sneaking away from the scene with him after. She really ought to thank him for that. But, whether because of Fiona's manner of pointing him out or perhaps that she'd been moping about on the veranda while her son bothered someone else, she felt suddenly embarrassed and self-conscious.
And normally Dahlia was so composed.
She looked back to Fiona, as if the girl would know what she should do.
"So?" Fiona asked, as though it were the silliest question in all the world. "Ye're both birds, aren't ye?" Swinging her leg back over the rail, she jumped down nimbly to stand in front of Dahlia with a broad smile. "An' even if ye are both talkin' birds an' all, it's okay t' do as yer 'eart says. Nature 'as its own way o' talkin'."
Her eyes flickered to the bird-man again, looking him over for a second, before looking back to Dahlia and grabbing her hand. "Come on! I'll introduce ye!"
And whether Dahlia liked it or not, Fiona was leading her over to the other man for an introduction. In Fi's mind, this could not possibly backfire!
"Mr. Bluebird," she began with all the cordial formality of a true princess. She held out Dahlia's hand to the bird-man, expecting him to take it, and, once he had, she swept into a graceful, old-fashioned curtsy. Although traces of the accent were there, she spoke in a slightly different, more formal dialect. "May I present to you Miss Blackbird. Miss Blackbird, please meet Mr. Bluebird."
(OOC: CCed a bit. Because it had to happen! *stomp!*)
Taking 'Miss BlackBird's' hand, Edward found his cheeks suddenly red, a color that popped beneath the blue feathers of his mask. But he gave a nervous, but friendly smile towards her and bowed gracefully at Fiona's introduction.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss BlackBird. Always nice to meet other feathered friends."
OOC: Sorry this is a short post D:
"What? Wait, what are you - " But Dahlia shut up quick as soon as it was clear that Fiona was taking her over to the man. Her wide-eyed expression looked remarkably like Riley's when Edward had asked Janette to dance. It was helped by the fact that, of all her children, her and her youngest son had the strongest resemblance. And she was a little afraid that her cheeks also colored, making her wonder when on earth had been the last time she'd blushed.
"Lord Bluebird, I'm sure," she corrected Fi with a bit of a smile. Despite all the talk about birds, and despite the fact that she wasn't sure what she ought to say, she couldn't quite bring herself to make some awful bird pun. Flocking together or what have it. "I'm afraid I've been doing a rotten job at socializing tonight, but it's lovely, ah, to make your acquaintance."
Dahlia glanced to her hand, which Edward still had, but hadn't done anything with, and wondered what she ought to do. Take it back or wait or...?
To break the tension, Dahlia smiled genuinely, if knowingly, now and asked, "I hope a certain little feather-bag falcon hasn't caused you too much trouble tonight?"
"W-why, yes, it would be Lord, I presume, and you a Lady?" Oh, Angsar, that line sounded awful. Clearing his throat, he gave her another smile, albeit he felt sheepish as he continued awkwardly, while his hands began to sweat, and one of them- still holding onto hers!
"Lady Gray, I take it. I was.. er, talking with your son earlier. He's quite a smart and charming boy. I hope you don't mind but, I had invited him over to ride the horse in my stable. With er.. your permission that is, Miss Gray. I mean, Lady Gray."
Fiona grinned at the pair, silently but slowly backing away. Aw, they were off to such a good start and everything!
Upon reaching the door, she turned to disappear inside, leaving the pair of mismatched birds to get to know one another better in privacy.
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Exit to Sweet Potato Place! (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15590.msg156766#msg156766)
What was going on? This must be by far the most awkward introduction Dahlia had experienced in... Well, certainly a long while, anyway! And she wasn't quite sure why. Ideas of what Riley might have said flit through her mind, only compounding her embarrassment. Nothing quite said 'sad' (or maybe pathetic) like a nine-year-old scouting out potential suitors for his widowed mother. What else could be the root of the mounting tension on the veranda?
"Lady Gray, yes," she confirmed. "I was never a 'Miss' Gray. But I have to say, I thought 'Lady Blackbird' had a nicer ring to it. I suppose it's a bit lofty, though. And what's the fun in a masked ball if everyone knows who everyone else is?"
It wasn't an inditement, though perhaps it sounded like it. Really, Dahlia was just talking to fill the space between them. And still he had her hand... Dahlia hadn't a clue what to do. Taking her hand back would be awfully rude, she knew that, but this was getting a bit uncomfortable...
She glanced to where Fiona had been in hope of aid, but the girl was gone. Dahlia was on her own now.
"Oh! He must have made quite the impression, then..." Even behind her mask the surprise showed in her eyes. What all had Riley been up to? Maybe she ought to keep him on a shorter leash after all. "Of course, if you'd like to have him, I'm sure he'd love a trip. If it's not too much of an imposition on you... and your family? But I can hardly put him in a coach and tell the driver to take him to 'Lord Bluebird's Stables.'"
"It wouldn't be an imposition!" he assured her, his smile growing more leftward as he took her in. She really did have lovely eyes, even behind the mask. Perhaps it was the way the feathers' framed them. But then he realized he was staring at and blushed and lowered his gaze, and only then realized he was still holding her hand.
"Your son was really charming," he said, finally realizing his hold upon her hand, though wasn't ungentle in it's release. It wasn't like he wanted to drop it, but merely allowed his fingers to open and his hand to lower to allow her to finally reclaim it. "He and I met at the Dessert Table. He seemed to be enjoying the cream puffs. And well, after the moment with Lady Coleridge, I offered to show him the Grand Palace's StarGazing tower. There we chatted for a while, you know, talking about constellations and things, " Those things he kept confidential (though he was naive enough to believe she might not be able to figure them out!). But he was a genuine sort, so he went on...
"And during our conversation, we talked about horses. I can't rightly say how.." And at that, he scratched sheepishly at the back of his neck. "I suppose it doesn't rightly matter, but it would be of little inconvenience. After all, the only people in my manor are myself and daughter. Though my child could not attend, though the Lords knew I wish it. But she's still just a baby, barely learning to walk now and with a sprouting of curly blonde locks and I- Oh, forgive me, I didn't mean to be rude and go on a tangent about her. It's just that I...er .... well, it's been a while since I've been able to get out to go to these sorts of things, needless to say..."
Yeah, he was sweating bullets. His lips could stop anytime now...
"And what about your children, MIss Gray, I mean, Lady Gray," he was quick to correct. "Are they all here this evening as well? Or was Riley the lucky one?"
A look of understanding crossed Dahlia's face. 'The only people in my manor are myself and daughter.' Dahlia understood very well what that meant. But she didn't dwell or remark on it. She was familiar with just how exhausting it could be to have every conversation with strangers and vague acquaintances revolve around one's dead spouse. 'Oh, you poor thing...', 'Oh, you're so brave...', 'Oh, your poor children...' Dahlia had heard them all, and she had no intention of inflicting it on someone else.
At least she had her hand back. Though, as silly as it might seem, she felt a little miffed that he kept it for so long without even a polite kiss.
Not too miffed, though, as the man seemed to be almost physically suffering. First the detailed list of every moment spent with Riley, then a rather sweet description of his daughter, which in the end only seemed to make him more embarrassed. Remembering his flustered attempt to aid Lady Coleridge, Dahlia couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this.
She considered just politely answering his question about her children, but she couldn't quite help herself. "Who's to say Riley's not the only one?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You've been doing your homework!" But she smiled then and, instead of letting him flounder at her teasing, went on to answer. "The older two stayed home. Riley's the one who teamed up with his grandmother to bully me into coming, so he's the one who came along. I think he knew I wouldn't be able to say no to a little kid offering to escort me to a ball. Not that I've seen much of him!" she added with a laugh.
"I suppose he put you up to coming out here to find me? And probably whisk me away to dance?" she asked with a little grin. Might as well make a joke about it. "He thinks he's awfully clever. And I got several lectures on the social importance of dancing on our way here."
At her comment, he felt his cheeks turn pink.
"Well I er, that is to say-" but then, bless her, she went on to explain her children anyways, and he gave her a soft smile of appreciation for that while still rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. But as she went on, he could only reply, "Your mother must have wanted you out of the house pretty badly. My friend dragged me here as well, though I could have refused, surely, but he was unrelenting." And he chuckled about the comment about Riley's disappearance. "Again, my apologies on that one. Riley and I seemed to hit it off, Going from Creme Puffs to Constellations."
But at that last comment of hers about his intentions here (more pointedly- a dance, he nervously cleared his throat with a short cough, then clasped his hands behind his back, though at her last comment, he couldn't help but smile- revealing just in that action that she was, in fact, correct in what she presumed.
"Riley and I had some sort of plan for the evening, yes. He felt dreadful he was being a poor escort, you see, but my being here on the veranda was purely coincidence, I assure you. Perhaps, Lady BlackBird, I've come on my own volition to ask you to dance. Though my shoes are rusty, we've got quite the long night ahead of us and it would be in poor taste for us to remain away from the dance floor when all of Connlaothian society had to wait years for this day. Surely we can not allow ourselves to remain as rocks stuck at the bottom of a river. The river itself seems to be going somewhere and somewhere fast. The night is only moving onwards, so ... er.." and here he held out his hand, cheeks pink again.
"Would you do me the honor, my lady bird?" And he bowed to her gracefully, and found himself laughing when a few feathers fell from his person. "That is to say, obliging a dance before I end up molting all over the veranda."
"My mother-in-law, technically. I'm infinitely better at ignoring my actual mother. The old harpy."
At first Dahlia looked rather amused, and maybe even delighted, that Edward admitted to having conspired with her son. The fact itself was naturally quite embarrassing, but the fact that he owned up to it was refreshing, and a little endearing. She'd expected the accusation to be firmly denied. He lost her a bit with the rambling metaphor about rivers and stones. His line about 'all Connlaothian society waiting years for this day,' however, left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Huh," she gave a little scoff, "this whole thing is in 'poor taste.'" Dahlia's expression stayed composed (for thankfully she'd regained enough of her composure during Edward's long ramblings), but had soured somewhat. And though her voice still held the utmost politeness (probably too polite), her words perhaps did not. "If the Grand Duke doesn't worry about offending 'all Connlaothian society' by throwing this rather vulgar ball while the nation sends her sons and husbands daily to war, and while taxes cripple much of the citizenry, you'll have to forgive me if I don't worry about offending him by not dancing. If that makes me a rock in the bottom of a river, so be it."
Dahlia realized that the chill in the air was not just from the wind, and she looked away from Edward for a moment back over the city. She used to be, she was sure, much better at filtering her derision. Or maybe she just used to be less bitter, less jaded. Before, perhaps, she hadn't needed to filter anything. Dahlia sighed; she'd left the Lord Bluebird standing ignored with his hand extended.
So she turned back to him with a small, apologetic smile, and took his hand. "You can see why my family wanted to push me back out into society. I'm sure my manners are much rustier than your dancing shoes."
Edward, hardly offended by her words, but more worried about her own stability, offered her a sympathetic look that allowed her to know 'I know far too well what you mean'. Though he himself had not suffered by the war losses as she, he knew many others that did and had, during his time 'out' of society, being a comforting shoulder to those grieving widows he knew within his own family and social circle.
Taking her hand, he lifted it politely and kissed the top.
"We, by no means, have to dance, Lady Bird. I was simply hoping to make your son happy. He seems to be suffering from similar feelings such as your own."
Edward might have raised Dahlia's spirits without realizing, or in a different manner than he might have expected. Because after he kissed her hand, Dahlia grinned: a small grin, but genuine and almost triumphant.
"Ah, so you finally admit it! I knew that little feather bag pushed you out here."
((Short post is short!))
Edward gave a laugh and blush.
"Yes, but he asked me not to confess. And now I fear I might have broken his trust. What if he refuses to come visit my horses now? The horses would be rather lonely."
Dahlia smiled, her eyes crinkling underneath her mask. "That's very noble of you to put yourself at such inconvenience to oblige a child. Though he can be rather insistent when he gets his mind on something, so I wouldn't blame you for taking the easy way out." Oh goodness, was she fishing for him to say something nice about her? The thought occurred to Dahlia rather suddenly, surprising her. It had been a long, long time since she'd flirted. Was she flirting? She wasn't even sure.
"Let's hope I'm better at keeping confidence than you are, and I'll do my best not to tell him how you betrayed his trust." She grinned. "And, anyway, we don't have horses. So you'd probably have to do worse than that to lose his interest now."
Dahlia looked sideways into the ballroom.
"Well," she said with a resignation that she didn't completely feel, "I suppose one dance wouldn't kill me. That is," her grey eyes returned to him knowingly, "if the offer still stands now that I found out your little plot."
Edward gave her a smitten grin- wait.. was he smitten!? (maybe at least a little charmed!?) He didn't rightly know, and felt himself to be in the same boat as she as unusual feelings were flittering beneath the surface. It had been a while since... flirting had ever occurred. Though he supposed no harm could come of it- right? After all, she did bring back the offer and at that, his smile grew.
"But of course, my lady," And he brought her hand gently to his lips as he kissed the top of it softly. "I am at your disposal for at least one dance. Though if you'd like, and it might save us both the hassle," he added playfully as he tucked her arm around his own while he stood at her side. "You can always use me for more than one dance if you feel so inclined."
Dahlia snorted with laughter - she couldn't help it! - and her eyes lit with amusement at Edward's offer that she could 'use him for more than just one dance.. if she felt so inclined!' She knew what he meant, but she couldn't help but laugh at the unintended (well, she assumed!) double-entendre.
"I... shall have to keep that in mind," she responded, failing completely at suppressing her amused grin and barely suppressing her laughter, "if I find myself so inclined."
Dahlia glanced over her shoulder into the crowded ballroom and then back at Edward. She moved to stand between Edward and the ballroom, and made her face as serious as possible when she said, "Look, since you're so rusty on your feet and we can hear the music out here just fine, I really think the only prudent thing to do would be to have a practice round out here."
She tilted her head and smiled. "Just so nobody gets embarrassed."
Edward smiled along with her, totally clueless to her true amusement in this situation. But just as he was ready to escort her away, she proposed her idea. Blinking, he stared at her curiously.
"Dance out here? You mean on the veranda?"
He paused a moment to consider, and found his cheeks warmed again by the idea as his expression softened.
"If you feel so inclined, then yes, our first dance being on the veranda sounds like a marvelous idea." And he bowed to her and offered his arms out, ready for her to accept so he could draw her into the assumed dance pose.
"I would not mind obliging your request to ensure embarrassment can be thwarted on your behalf."
Considering, rightly, he cared not as much for his own reputation as for hers. It was, after all, the gentlemanly thing to do!
Oh, he was so... serious. It was almost too much. 'To ensure embarrassment can be thwarted on her behalf.' It was too much. And was it possible that he hadn't heard what he'd said about using him. Dahlia found that absolutely delightful.
He was exactly like when she first saw him, stammering and wide-eyed in the midst of the creme puff explosion.
"Yes," she answered, "out here. On the veranda." She looked very serious again, with big earnest eyes. "Just to make sure we can 'thwart embarrassment.' I would hate to misstep in front of 'all Connlaothian society.'"
Dahlia stepped gracefully into his arms, taking his hand and putting the other on his shoulder. "Can you still lead? Or shall I? I did teach both of my sons to dance, so I probably could if absolutely necessary."
Edward caught the playful hint of teasing in her tone and his cheeks continued to remain warm and pink in color.
"Y-yes. It c-could be a crime," he murmured, which was the only thing he could think of to reply to her words but as she accepted his arms, he found his lips twitching in a smile that only grew wider t her words. He gave an embarrassed laugh.
"I would hope to think I am not that rusty," he said, giving her a sheepish look before he nodded. "Shall we?" And after securing them together more tightly, he moved to step with her to the song. At first he was rigid, though most formal dances tended to be, but after a moment's time, they were both stepping to tune and grace, and Edward could not help himself but enjoy the moment. There was a certain thrill to holding this woman and to dance with her for the first time. Perhaps he was a tad bit smitten with the 'pretty bird'; but what wasn't to like? He could see where Riley had gotten his smarts- this woman was positively clever...
and the idea for a dnace on the veranda.. romantic. He just knew he'd never be rid of this blush!
"Does Riley attend a school, or does he have private tutors? The reason I ask is because he seems quite smart. Though I wouldn't be surprised if that were thanks to you."
After his stammering and his continual blushing, Dahlia decided to take a break from teasing the poor man for a bit and simply followed his steps in time. It felt like ages since she'd danced with a man other than one of her brothers. Of course, one always danced politely with acquaintances, old and new, at balls, even if one was married. But... well, for now she would stop thinking about it and just enjoy dancing. She had to admit that it felt nice, and maybe even a little giddy, to be held in a man's arms again. Realizing that, it was Dahlia's cheeks that now colored, and she hoped in the dim light of the veranda he didn't notice.
Dahlia was a little grateful when Edward asked about Riley, breaking up the silence and somewhat pleasant tension surrounding the dance.
"He is a precocious thing, isn't he?" she responded. "A bit of both, I suppose. Well, mostly school. All three children attend school in Uthlyn, where we live, so they don't have to be sent away. I don't now if we're quite of 'private tutor' caliber, anyway" she laughed. "We spend some time, the three of them and me, studying different topics at home. It's an excuse for me to have some fun learning new things as much as a benefit for them. But I have to admit that we don't do it as much as I'd like to. In recent years, now that I'm running the estate. It's frightening how scarce time becomes."
Dahlia followed him a few turns in the dance before asking, "And your daughter? When she's old enough to learn her letters, will you ship her off to a boarding school, or employ a fleet of tutors to fuss over her?"
"I hope I have not brought in offense to mention a private tutor, my lady. But to my own child, I must admit, she will probably have several of them."
Though here, his smiled softened as he thought over what she had said.
"It must be nice to learn with them. I suppose that's something I can look forward to with my own daughter. Though naturally, that'll be a long while coming! The sweet girl is only learning to walk now as it is and she's just learning some words. Why, I think she'll become a little lady in no time, and soon, I'll find myself alone and she, married off. Though, I suppose I get ahead of myself. I have to survive this ball first." And he gave her a warmed smile. "Though I must say, the company I have taken all evening makes this sort of thing very enjoyable."
Yes.. very enjoyable indeed!
Dahlia smiled in acknowledgement of his compliment on the company. He was so formal!
"It's sweet the way you talk about your daughter." Dahlia caught herself before saying something about how one is almost most sentimental with the first child, and how he should just wait until there were three or four running amok through he house. "It does go fast, and she'll be on her feet exploring everything in no time, but I don't think you need to worry about her leaving you 'sad and alone' quite yet. It's awfully depressing!"
"Though, I have to say, I do feel a bit badly for you. If you think she's a lot of energy now, just wait until she's a toddler and you're trying to keep up with her! I won't lie, I'm glad I had my children young and I had the spare energy to keep up with them." Dahlia laughed a little, saying, "My next oldest sister is the same age I was when I had Riley, and I don't even think she has any suitors, much less a baby. Too busy with her own world of her making. Whereas I married young and had babies straight away. I suppose it makes me the boring, conventional one in the family!"
Dahlia glanced over her shoulder towards the ballroom and added soberly, "Though from what I heard in there a bit ago, that might not be the worst thing."
Edward was all smiles with her, and only recalled they were dancing on the veranda when the ballroom incident was brought up and his smile faltered.
"So you could hear the ballroom incident all the way out here? There was quite a scene and I dare say one of your poor sister's could not manage from it. But do not worry yourself, your son is attending to her. Janette, I believe her name was. I had the pleasure of dancing with her for but a brief while, but then ashes became of the moment and catastrophe struck. She seemed determined to help your brother, who was in the fray of things, though I do not know what could have possibly happened to warrant Lord Arrant to strike him so. The son of the duke of Castavar was so angry."
At first Dahlia missed the important bit of what Edward said and, instead, laughed that he didn't know what could have 'possibly have happened' to warrant the spot of trouble Trevian had gotten himself into.
"Oh, I can imagine one or two things."
But then she paused, stopping the dance though not yet moving away, and her expression changed. "Wait, sorry... did you say that Riley is taking care of Janette? Alone?"
Edward, too, had to do a reprocessing of what he had just unveiled and frowned when she did.
"Yes. He insisted he remain with her. Though he is not alone. Two other gentleman were also there to assist, and I would have been a third had your son not been so insistent that I not remain."A nd here he paused their dancing to stare at her with worry.
"Is something the matter? Would you like to go check on him?"
Leave it to Janette. Dahlia look indecisively to the distance for a few moments. She didn't really want to go, and not only because she avoided dealing with Janette whenever possible. As much as she'd been determined to not enjoy herself tonight, she was starting to rather like this man's company. But she certainly was not going to leave her nine-year-old with her giant-of-a-sister who - surprise, surprise - had already managed to get herself into trouble, from the sounds of it.
"Yes, I probably should," she said, looking up apologetically at Edward. Though she doubted she needed to check on him so much as her.
Realizing she was still in Edward's arms for the dance, Dahlia took half a step backwards, but held onto his hand. "Sorry, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to excuse me before we can take our practiced dance into the ballroom. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me." She smiled and, squeezing his hand, added, "It was a lovely practice dance, though. But I'm afraid I never caught your name, Lord Bluebird, in case I have the opportunity to make good on any of those other dances you promised me."
"You can call me Edward. I mean, I'm Lord Draven. I mean, that is to say, my full name is Lord Edward Draven from Highheart." And here he bowed his head and lifted her hand unto his lips to kiss it softly.
"And do not fret over me, Lady Treyburn-Gray. This dance was exquisite. I never thought I'd catch myself dancing alone with a lovely lady on a veranda." And he smiled at her wonderfully, a dreamy sort of look, as he still... held onto her hands, albeit lightly.
"Perhaps if things have calmed down we can make good on this practice as you've said. But though, I must inquire if you would like an escort? I do know which private room they have taken your sister to rest. It would make your search that much easier."
"Oh, please, 'Lady Gray' is sufficient. I haven't been a 'lady' or 'miss' Treyburn since I was 18. But maybe," she smiled, "it's easier if you just call me Dahlia. And it's lovely to actually make your acquaintance 'Edward-Lord Draven-Lord Edward Draven from Higheart.'"
She might have blushed at his words about dancing 'alone with a lovely lady on the veranda,' but her thoughts were too focused on Riley and Janette and what sort of trouble she might have been up to. And though appreciative of his offer to escort her, Dahlia was of the same mind as Riley when it came to strangers (or new acquaintances) witnessing the behavior of the family. Especially Janette! "Oh no, I couldn't possibly inconvenience you that much. I daresay you've spent enough for your night looking after my son as it is. If you can just point me in the correct direction, I'm sure I'll have no problem finding them."
It was here Edward visibly frowned.
"But it is of no inconvenience, I assure you, but I will not press," he told her humbly. "Though allow me to at least escort you to the hall. Then I can point out which sitting room she had been taken."
And once he had Lady Gray on his arm nice and secure, he lead her to the the drawing room (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15643.msg158568#msg158568), but did not linger, only ensured she knew where to go before he himself departed her with a simple set of words, "If you need me, I shall remain as an idle wallflower in the ballroom (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15643.msg158568#msg158568)." And he took her hand and kissed it before allowing the woman her space to deal with her sister and son.
"Wait half a moment." Dahlia held onto his hand for a moment before allowing him to leave. She felt bad for sending him off, but with Janette... He'd probably thank her if he knew! So instead she smiled at him, warmly, apologetically. "Sorry again to leave you so soon. You've been very sweet... Especially to Riley. But I have to admit, I didn't expect to enjoy myself tonight, and you fixed that." At least for a bit.
Then she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek (not too quickly; she wasn't a flittering teenager!). "I hope I will see you again tonight, Lord Draven."
Then, with a small squeeze, she let go of his hand and went to see what fresh hell Janette was up to now.
Entrance from A Slice of Lemon Cake (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15589.msg161306#msg161306)
-----
As they crossed through the doorway and onto the veranda beyond, the full weight of his words hit her -- although, likely, not the words he might assume. "How could people not recog--" She turned her head to look at him, which soon proved to be a mistake. The heels to which she was unaccustomed immediately did their best to trip her as the edge of the heel caught on the doorway. She stumbled forward a few steps, and, had it not been for the young stranger on her arm and the pillar placed immediately beside the door, Angsar alone knew where she would have ended up!
She wound up with one hand on the pillar, with Ewan providing a sort of counter-balance that kept her from toppling right over. Immediately, she cast a baleful look back at the doorway, which, quite innocently, shone as a bright beacon to the party within. "Sorry," she apologized, releasing him to lean against the pillar and remove her shoes, one at a time. "It's these stupid shoes my mother made me wear. I would rather be a fish if I could wear normal shoes! There's a trick to these, and I haven't learned it yet and probably never will. I've fallen down stairs, fallen up stairs, tripped over doorways -- that isn't the first!, stepped on some poor woman's skirt..."
She exhaled in a soft huff, and, as she straightened, a smile was already playing at her lips again. The heels, now removed, dangled from her hand. "But, really, you're welcome to hide away from the rest of the party with us! Not that that's what we're doing deliberately..." After a beat, the butterfly chuckled softly. "Well, maybe it is a little deliberate. I'd rather be a hundred places right now than in there with them."
((Entering from A Slice of Lemon Cake. (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15589.msg161306#msg161306)))
"I was just kidding , kid. I'm not that cruel. Relax. You are way too tense," Braxton wondered if the poor young shark-man also had a nagging mother breathing down his neck. Were that the case, he could sympathize. Even worse if the kid's mother was here. Brax was only thankful that Ma wasn't here or else no one would have been able to enjoy themselves. At all. Janette sure didn't make things easy either, unfortunately.
When Cherie nearly took a spill in the doorway, Braxton was prepared to go to her in the usual way that any concerned brother would, but the girl managed to save herself from falling.
"Are you sure it's the heels, Cherie? "Braxton chuckled and looked around for the elusive Janette.
ooc: Arrival from A Slice of Lemon Cake (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=15589.msg161306#msg161306)
ic:"Tense? I beg your pardon but I am n –" Ewan started to argue with Braxton ,but his attention was drawn straightaway to what occurred next.
The young lady's stumbling startled Ewan. He felt his heart stop for a moment as it locked up with concern for her well-being and he was quite prepared to move to her aid. Fortuitously, she salvaged her equilibrium swiftly thanks to the benefit of his sturdy arm and the far sturdier pillar on the other side of her. His countenance and tone of voice mirrored his lingering concerns as he inquired after she released his arm to lean against the pillar, "Goodness that was a close call. Are you alright, miss?"
When she apologized, he shook his head; he imagined that walking in heels wasn't such an easy thing to do because she wasn't the first woman he'd seen whom had stumbled in them, "Don't be. It happens to the best of us. And some of us don't even need heels to help us, "he replied in good humor.
When she removed them, he tried not to look so surprised. After hearing her explanation, he certainly didn't blame her. Poor girl. If she had so much trouble and disliked what she was wearing, it seemed cruel to make her suffer for a silly ball. He offered her a sympathetic smile that gradually changed to a humored expression as he spoke, "If it would please you, you could be the fish and I could wear the heels. Although I suspect that could prove to be quite a lethal venture for everyone here. "Naturally, he did jest. Those shoes were much too small for his feet.
Ewan blushed at thought of hiding away. If his parents knew what he was up to right now, they would probably be quite cross with him. Of course, that would only be an issue if they actually noticed that he wasn't where his mother thought he was. Of course , he had no doubt that his mother was probably now much too busy making her social rounds to be bothered to babysit him further. He could probably be back before she even noticed he'd gone somewhere.
He elevated a perfectly groomed eyebrow at her, "Oh? A hundred places? Where would you rather be?" he inquired, genuinely curious.
"Oh, well..." Cherie's eyes glittered at the thought, all memory of what they had been doing out on the veranda (or talking to the Shark) in the first place simply vanishing, as unimportant (and sometimes important) things were wont to do. "Let's see..."
"I'd rather be at home, at school, at Brax's, at Redly's, at Gracie's, at Florry's forge, at the lake, ooh, at a bakery!, in the woods, or in a meadow, or, um, in the stables, even though I'm not really a good rider, or, um..."
As she spoke, her eyes rolled up towards the ceiling, and she ticked the items off on her finger. As the ideas slowed down, her face twisted into a series of childishly thoughtful expressions, and, unconsciously, she pinched her fingertip and wiggled the finger lightly.
If Brax didn't stop her, this was liable to go on all night.
Braxton too was interested in knowing how many places Cherie was really going to list off.Amused, he doubted that she'd get very far and so he listened to her prattle away. However, as the list dragged on he wrinkled his nose. No way. Was she really going to come up with a hundred?
Well, this was Cherie...so why should he have been surprised? She'd probably been thinking of all hundred places ever since she'd arrived here to keep herself sane.
Stupid shark boy! He just had to distract her and ask questions!
"Cherie! We gotta find Janette!"
It was dark on the veranda and Braxton could barely make out the two figures standing close together. One of them was about Janette sized and it didn't occur to him that more than one person at the party might have been dressed as a snake. He grabbed the giant snake's shoulder, " Alright, young lady. You're coming with me."
"I beg your pardon? What are you? Drunk?" A voice that definitely wasn't Janette's snapped indignantly. "Unhand me this instant, sir!"
Shit! Braxton let go as he was told, "Sorry. I thought you were...someone else. "
"How the hell could mistake me for a lady!?" The snake man demanded.
Braxton laughed, "It's dark. You mean you haven't noticed a girl your height that's wearing a snake getup? "
"No, now leave me be!"
Seriously, how could people not notice?
He whirled around to glare at Ewan. This was clearly shark-boy's fault! "You said you saw her, shark-boy!"
Ewan also had not anticipated that Cherie to cite such an impressive list of locations that she'd rather visit than the Grand Duke's Palace. He smiled politely and nodded each time she named a location.He considered assuring her that she didn't have to actually list everything if she didn't want to but she seemed quite determined to prove that she really could think of a hundred other places to be and so he dare not interrupt her while she seemed to be on quite a roll. She faltered a few times and her expressions and odd gestures , he found to be a little endearing.
He looked up when Braxton reminded her about Janette. He gasped when the rowdy man approached a figure that was taller than even he was and called them a Lady. Ewan couldn't say that he blamed the poor man for being offended at all. He blushed when Braxton turned on him and accused him of leading him falsely. "Pardon , but my name is not shark-boy; it's Ewan. And, you have my apologies ,but I did tell you that I saw a snake . I never said I was confident that the snake was a lady. But, I must inquire if your sister is really a giant. Is that even possible? "
"Oh," Cherie blinked in response to the interruption, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side. "Right." Janette. How easy it was to forget what they were meant to be doing -- they weren't making much progress, after all!
She watched, amused, as Braxton tried to apprehend a snake, only to have the chance of it be their target slither away when the man spoke. Definitely not Janette. Although, she thought with a quiet laugh to herself. That was a pretty good pun. Perhaps, she should share...
Before she could think to open her mouth to share her little joke, she snapped back to the veranda and the situation unfolding between her brother and the shark. She, of course, failed to be intimidated by her older brother's attitude and glare. Brax could do worse. Their new friend didn't know that, but he had yet to run away. He was proving to be a real trooper!
"Ewan, huh? Nice to meet you. I'm glad our shark finally has a name!" Of course, the polite thing to do would be to formally introduce themselves; instead, Cherie added helpfully, "He did say that. Remember?"
Damn it! The kid was right.
Stupid , smarty-pants Ewan-shark-boy!
Braxton's lips fell open and his mind stalled for a few moments as his mind searched desperately for a reason to turn this around and still blame the kid. Shit. He couldn't. "I know it's hard to believe even for me, but yes, Janette is even taller than you are. Now I have to ask what kind of name is Ewe-ann, anyway?"
(( So mature and on task. xD))
Ewan's posture stiffened and his frown deepened at the dreadful sound of his name being butchered. The young Rodric pushed the droopy fin atop his head back up and pursed his lips, "I-I- it's my name." Ewan offered lamely. What was wrong with his name anyway? "Why? Is there something wrong with it?"
Cherie chuckled -- that is, until, Ewan responded. Even someone of Cherie's distractability could see he didn't find Brax as amusing as Cherie did. Well, she supposed, Treyburn humor did take some adjusting... Her smile faded, replaced by a puzzled expression that pulled the corners of her lips downwards.
So, naturally, she decided to step in with the save! Still barefoot, she stepped up to her taller brother and elbowed him in the side. It wasn't that hard -- not that Brax would feel it if she really did try to put her full weight into it, probably...
"Brax! Be nice, or I'll make you find Janette all on your own!" Although, to be honest, he was doing her the favor more-so than she was helping him. "If she's not out here, where should we look next?"
Poor kid. Brax was impressed that the boy was keeping his temper in spite of his humorless reaction. Most nobles were so easily offended or crabby towards him but Ewan was tolerating it, " I was kidding. Really, Ewan, you shouldn't take everything so seriously. You'll get all wrinkly before you hit my age. "
He winced when Cherie elbowed him. It wasn't the action that made him do it so much as it was what she said, "That's just cruel, little Red. " He pouted, but then his expression brightened , "Does that mean if I find her that I get all the cookies to myself?"
"Lord Rodric? Are you out there?" Lady MacArthur stepped out onto the veranda.
Braxton gave Cherie a funny look and wrinkled his nose and then glanced over at Ewan.
((lololol....>:D))
Ewan was relieved that Cherie intervened then because she was quite right in the assumption that he misunderstood Braxton's humor for a sincere question that poor Ewan had no idea how to answer. He tilted his head, frowning when the older man explained that he was jesting. That was a jest? How odd! Ewan shook his head, "My apologies. I'm not familiar with that sort of unique...humor."
Hearing Lady MacArthur's voice, Ewan froze and adopted an expression of unreserved horror. He immediately hid behind Braxton and Cherie. His eyes wandered over to the edge of the veranda and for a brief moment he contemplated jumping off of it. Instead, he crouched down and attempted to make himself as small as possible, "Ansgar, I never ask for favors but just this night..."
"There you are , Lord Rodric, I thought I'd never find you again! I'm sorry that I left you during that fascinating conversation about donating to orphanages earlier but I was simply famished. I hope you understand. " Lady MacArthur easily spied Ewan behind the two shorter people that he was trying his best to look small behind. She laughed at him, "What are you doing?"
"Stomach cramps!" Ewan blurted out the first lie that came to mind and then clutched his stomach, "Oh...you might wish to stay away, Lady MacArthur. I don't feel so well." Ansgar, he thought, please forgive me for lying.
Ooc: You are so cruel, Paradox.
Lady MacArthur is an npc and everyone is free to control her because I have no plans for her.
Cherie blinked mutely at the lady's entrance...and, more importantly, their new companion's reaction to her entrance. She wished she were Janette-sized, suddenly, so that he could hide behind her. She felt immensely sorry for him, suddenly; she, herself, had managed to prevent being cornered by hiding behind her siblings so far. Once identified as the Treyburns, people seemed to prefer to leave them alone.
Stomach cramps? That was the best he could come up with?
Nevertheless, the youngest Treyburn was here to help. Swinging her shoes before her, a quick arc that provided the woman a mere glimpse of shoes -- and that, really, was about all -- she announced with a straight face, "He's already thrown up on me. You don't want to be next, do you?"
What in the name of Ansgar's balls was Ewan doing? Braxton glanced back over his shoulder at the cowering shark. Yeah. The kid should have come dressed as a sea turtle instead. He sighed and grinned at Cherie's explanation. "Yeah. You shoulda been here to see it. This greenish-yellow muck comes shooting out of his mouth like a cannon. It was all over the floor. I think one of the servants might have also thrown up while having to clean it. It smelled like rotting fruit."
Lady MacArthur took a step back, her face scrunching with revulsion," How awful! I'm so sorry, my Lord. Would you like me to fetch your mother?"
It tickled Brax that she was dumb enough to buy this lame story. "Naw. Your concern is touching and will be noted by the Rodrics, I'm sure, but you run along and enjoy the rest of your evening. We got him covered , don't we Ewe-Ann? " Braxton smirked.
Lady MacArthur seemed to accept this and left.
Now Braxton turned around , " Stomach cramps? Lame! You're lucky we were here, really." He crossed his arms, " What's the deal, Ewe-Ann? Why are you hiding from a nice-looking bird like that? "
So the kid's name was Ewan Rodric. Rodric, Rodric. Why was that name so damned familiar?
Only after Lady MacArthur had left did Ewan breathe a sigh of relief and rise to stand. However, the fact that he had relied on others to help convince that awful woman of his lies only made him feel even guiltier. His stomach twisted in knots; He looked at Cherie and Braxton , his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment, "I am so, so dreadfully sorry. I appreciate your intervention, truly. I honestly thought that time she left me when I started talking about charities that she'd grown bored of me, "he shook his head," I never suspected that she would return, "but he felt as though he needed to explain himself further because his actions seemed entirely ungentlemanly, " She and I are not ...compatible. It's not very polite to speak ill of others, but she is not a very a nice person. I'd rather not suffer her company further this evening, but if my parents knew that I'd driven her away on purpose, they'd be livid. "
"That is your idea of speaking ill somebody else?" Cherie asked dubiously, deciding he couldn't possibly be serious. What kind of a strange person was he? Apparently not the sort accustomed to lying to people...
"I suppose we'd better get you out of here, just in case she really does fetch your mother." She eyed him a moment, still looking a bit dubious. "Ma didn't want to come, so we've got the run of the place." She glanced towards her elder brother, then chose a random direction to walk in.
After all, Janette clearly wasn't out here!
"Maybe we should figure out where they serve the harder liquor and check there for Janette..."
(OOC: I'm letting you pick where they go! *flail!*)
Braxton stared at Ewan incredulously, " That was weak , Ewan. I could teach you words that'd make Ansgar himself blush like a school girl. " He grinned at his boast. "Still, you don't have to like her to get a little sugar, if you know what I'm saying."
Braxton then frowned and nodded, "Yeah. I think this Lady MacArthur is gonna tell your mom. So, Ewan, you just lied to a girl who is interested in you and you're running from your mother. How does it feel to go from gentleman to wannabe bad boy all in one evening?"
Cherie mentioned Janette and hard liquor then. Yes, Brax nodded, he could imagine his wayward little sister being drawn to such a thing.
"There's some in the game room, " Brax knew because he'd already helped himself quite a bit, "she might have gone back there since I haven't been there for awhile. "
((I'll think about it and edit my post to reflect where we're going. xD I'll let you guys know! Unless you want to choose, Vinny! ))
Seeing the way his two new odd companions were staring at him incredulously, Ewan blushed. Naturally, he hadn't spoken his mind, but those things were highly inappropriate for this social function. "I- may be describing her faults a tad bit lightly, but I think it's adequate. " That was hardly the case. Words like spoiled, heartless and witch came to mind ,but saying such things didn't make him feel all that mature.
He shook his head, "I am not a - I am most certainly not bad. I just want them to let me enjoy my evening as I would like. Is that really such a terrible thing to want? Perhaps a bit selfish. I suppose we should not linger. My mother will probably come looking for me within the hour, I've no doubt."
Oh dear. This Janette kept sounding more and more like a nightmare each time she was mentioned. Why was she even allowed to attend the masquerade if she was so naughty? "Hard liquor?"
ooc: Apologies. This post hardly contributes at all. Lead on, Paradox.