(2023-05-18) Shadow and Shimmer - A Charity Gala Side Story

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	Ladies Sintha Fallon and Alaisa Lysander swap secrets, share a dance, and both love brilliant ladies.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Ringside Seats

Not long after returning Winnie to the ball, Sintha has discovered the library empty of guests, and has taken refuge in there herself — or possibly she's lying in wait for new prey. One never knows, with Sintha. She's curled up in one of the armchairs by the hearth, feet tucked under her and starry-sea skirts frothed around her, reading a book.

Alaisa slips into the library, and she does not dare even attempt to sneak up on Sintha. She does a quick scan of the room before she approaches, hands clasped loosely in front of her. "Does the real reason you had this incredible library opened to your guests happen to be to give yourself an opportunity to sneak off and read in the middle of your own party?" she asks, trying to get a look at what Sintha's reading.

"Oh gosh, no," says Sintha with a smile, and without looking up from her book. She turns a page placidly. The book is a botanical treatise on mushrooms. "I had the incredible library opened to my guests so they would have an opportunity to sneak off where Shine could hear them, or where they might be more easily cornered for quiet conversation."

Now she glances up at Ally, her bright eyes gleaming, still wearing the smile. She flicks a glance to the one-eyed footman waiting by the liquor, who is doing a medal-worthy job of not smiling himself, and raises her voice to say, "That's all, Shine."

"My lady," he murmurs, and bows his way out of the room.

Sintha closes her mushroom-guide with her thumb between the pages and rests the book on her knee. She raises her eyebrows at Ally.

"Have you cornered anyone interesting so far?" Ally asks, leaning a hand on the back of the armchair. "Lady Alwynneria seems to have a new dress."

Sintha tips her head back to rest it on the chairback and smiles up at Ally. "She does! Awfully fetching. I learned some things about guardianship law. A personal interest of mine, you know. There were some young warlock ladies in here discussing Captain Tyrrell and the Duchess Esprit, as well as the Wishock poisoning — and reading an etiquette book — and the Aspenwoods — husband and husband — were here but mostly just to admire the art, stars they're adorable. Aubri Glenarvan is flirting her pretty eyelashes off at Tennerow, but of course we knew that, and Lady Barfield was in here for a time with one of her headaches." She purses her lips. "I think that's the main of it. Are you having a lovely time?"

"I'm more of a listener than a talker at these sorts of events," Ally says, which means of course she's been people-watching and perhaps picking up accents and mannerisms to add to her internal catalogue. "I did notice your brother vanish immediately after after his speech, although it seems he's returned."

Sintha closes her eyes briefly — gosh, what a headache — and blows out a breath. "Oh, he had to go off and drink about his feelings, I expect," she says sardonically. "The man's absolutely allergic to five minutes of sincerity."

She waves a dismissive hand and then purses her lips, her expression turning smug. "I do think that it must have been a rather peculiar bout of allergies, because it seems he's interested in a House seat now in earnest."

Ally laughs, but her expression sharpens with curiosity. "Oh, is he now. What changed his mind?"

Sintha sits up and forward, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "Honestly I can't be certain until I've cornered him later. I suspect he was talked into it by either the Duchess or the Captain. Though I'm fairly certain the Captain was in the ballroom at the time captivating Lady Cressidha with his tentacles."

"I heard a bit of that, before it devolved into a full battle recounting. I was more interested in the qiraji, I admit."

"I am mad for that temple scarab he donated, but I expect half the ballroom is as well, and Shay tells me it's poor form to simply buy out all of the things we've put up for auction ourselves and also he refuses to pay for them all on top of everything else. Did you bid on the book?"

"I did bid on the book. I am weak and impressionable." Ally grins at her.

Sintha feigns a sorrowful pout. "You poor darling thing, and who would take advantage of your nature like that?" She grins and then scrunches up into one side of the armchair and pats the seat beside her. "Do you want to sit?"

There is, like, another whole-ass armchair right there. But.

"Who indeed?" Alaisa absolutely takes the opportunity to squish herself into the offered half of the armchair. "If Siamus is in fact interested in earnest, he'll be an easy sell for my father."

Sintha snuggles over. "Gosh, that'd be wonderful. Shay respects him awfully. He's so concerned about the state of the navy, though — I mean, what navy? — and the military's disorganization. I expect your father understands that better than most of them."

"The 'navy,'" Alaisa agrees, with audible finger-quotes. "Light, ugh. He certainly does." It is clear that her opinion of Stormwind's navy is not high, but why would it be? "Oh, do tell me about Tidewitch?"

"Oh!" says Sintha avidly, and sits up again. It is clear that despite all of her eyerolling at her brother, she does in fact also like to Talk About Ships. "She's a barque, so not really a proper warship, but Shay's got her rigged to fight if she needs to and she'll be crewed by marines. The two going with her — Westwatch and Saoirse's Song — are brigs anyway, so she'll have a fast little fighting escort if worse comes to worst. She's mostly transporting supplies for our men up there, but Shay wouldn't put civilian guests on a brig and you'd have been awfully uncomfortable by comparison. The 'Witch is relatively new — two years on the water — and spacious as such things go, actually some lovely cabins. She may be a little more crowded than usual, in peacetimes she's meant for a crew of 32 or 34 but because it's not peacetime, and marines and so forth, she'll be about fifty."

Boats!

Alaisa seems genuinely attentive. "The first ships out to Northrend were all icebreakers. Is that less necessary these days? Or can any ship be an icebreaker with the proper hull for it?"

Sintha makes a tiny moue and leans out of her chair to peer around exaggeratedly as if for eavesdroppers, before settling back in. "She's a Fallon ship. The Alliance needed icebreakers, but if they had more Fallons — or Kul Tiras back again — they wouldn't have needed. Shay got six ships up there safe and sound and has been chasing pirates and profiteers onto the ice ever since. There's no ship the sea loves like a Fallon's." She spreads her hands. "This is why they need to listen to Shay about a navy, if they're not going to at least try to open talks with Kul Tiras."

"Well, now I must win one of those tickets, just to see how it's done first-hand," Alaisa decides. "I haven't the time, of course, but some things are worth making time for regardless." She reaches out to touch part of the frothy portion of Sintha's skirt and then blinks at her own hand in surprise. She might not have given it permission to do that.

Sintha looks down at Ally's hand, too. Gosh.

Blithely, she fluffs the skirt. "Gosh, isn't it lovely? I was just thrilled when I saw the design. I should definitely have asked for pockets, though." She sighs.

"Absolutely stunning," Alaisa agrees, folding her hands together in her lap where they belong. "All it's missing is pockets. I feel rather plain by comparison. Perhaps I should spill something on my dress on purpose."

Sintha laughs brightly. "Oh, but yours is so fetching on you! And I doubt I have anything with pockets to lend. I really do need to change that. I'll have to speak with my seamstress. Besides, that color couldn't be more perfect with your complexion. Poor Lady Alwynneria, something had to be done."

Alaisa looks critically down at her own dress, smoothing out the velvet. "You think so?" She sighs, twisting a curl of hair around her finger. "I suppose being plain was rather the point when I picked it out this morning." There's a flicker of something in her expression that gets shoved ruthlessly behind a friendly smile.

"Plain? Darling, not for a moment! With your coloring, so ethereal… honestly, you could almost be one of those little silvery Glenarvans."

Alaisa's voice alters to match Caliette Glenarvan's with incredibly impressive accuracy as she says, "Frankly, I would still need a wig for that." There's a shift in her posture that accompanies the mimicry — more like Caliette, most likely.

Sintha gives another sparkling peal of laughter. "Gosh, what I would give for that talent! You are absolutely the cleverest."

The Caliette Glenarvan posture drops, leaving behind a much more casual Ally, who grins. "I am," she agrees shamelessly.

Sintha grins back at her, and then the smile fades into seriousness a little. "Have you heard any more about what Lescovar's up to? I haven't had a bit of time myself, what with —" She waves her hands airily around the room.

Alaisa glances around the room. "He's been talking shit, but at the moment that's all it is — talk. That man's powered by spite and very little else."

"Mmm," says Sintha, with a little disapproving moue. "Well, it would be excellent to get Ference and Thenedain and Siamus in there to dampen him further. At least the bloody man hasn't got an heir yet to pass it on to."

"At least. Ergh. That's three out of four." Alaisa raises a brow. "Who would be your fourth pick?"

Sintha frowns. "Well, honestly I might think Demasco? He's got the political magnetism of a potted plant but he knows his business, and the seat would go to Lady Alwynneria after that, and one does like to see a clever lady put forward. On the other hand, she'd have to get herself together, rather — as it stands, she might die of fright if you told her she was to someday be on the House. Tennerow's got no appeal whatever for me, but Ference and Siamus in particular would probably like working with him. Another military man, you know? Tyrrell is —" Sintha pauses to think on what Tyrrell is.

Alaisa laughs brightly at 'political magnetism of a potted plant'. "A warlock?" she fills in. "That alone is going to be such a mark against him that most voters won't look twice."

"Yes," says Sintha, and frowns gravely at the fireplace. "A warlock. Which, considering public sentiment at present, makes it rather foolish that he's decided to run because of it. He is, though, rather — hm." She plucks absently at one of the beads on her skirt. "I can't decide whether the word I want is 'principled' or 'a fool.' He's a bit like Shay in that regard. Except nowhere near as charming, which is another mark against. He's got such interesting ideas, though, and I know Ference and Shay have both been rather engaged by them."

"My father's already ruled him out, I know that much." Alaisa waves a hand. "He won't be the only one." She looks down at Sintha's dress again with a considering expression. "You don't intend to miss all the dancing, do you?"

"Oh, gosh." Sintha blinks. "I hadn't honestly… considered it. Usually just a lot of dreadful toe-treading and men trying to put their hands just slightly wrong. You know?"

Alaisa flashes Sintha a sort of sympathetic grimace. "Ugh, I know." She looks down at her own hands, which have already betrayed her once today, and shakes her head. "I don't suppose you'd care to dance with me, would you?" Alaisa's tone is light and casual, easily ready for rejection, but she isn't looking at Sintha's face when she asks.

Sintha considers Alaisa, brows arched. "Gosh," she says. "I wouldn't have even thought — oh, that's fun! Yes, then, let's! I trust you know where to put your hands, at least." She grins and bounces to her feet in a rustle of tulle, offering out a hand to tug the other woman along.

Alaisa holds up her hands innocently. "I am an excellent dancer," she says, and takes Sintha's hand as she rises from the chair. "And I would never dream of putting my hands anywhere you didn't wish me to." The tone is very gosh, I would never, but by the end of the sentence it picks up a hint of seriousness. Ally does not release Sintha's hand, since it was offered to her, and she grins back. "I just have to stop by the auctioneer and make sure I'm still winning, first."

"Oooh," laughs Sintha. "Shall I go with you, for luck?" She tugs Alaisa with her from the library, practically swinging her hand in girlish fashion.

Alaisa does not skip, but there's an easy lightness to her steps. "You're always welcome to come with me, of course, though I don't think there's much luck involved in auctions like these."

"That can depend on your definition of luck," Sintha observes, also not-quite-skipping but definitely hand-swinging now. She leans toward Alaisa. "Luck is money, friend," she confides, in an unconvincingly goblinish shrill.

Alaisa laughs, perfectly happy to have her hand swung. "You can get even more screechy than that. 'Time is money, friend!'" If the words hadn't so obviously come from Ally's mouth, it could have been said by a goblin, maybe.

Sintha does a merry mock-recoil. "Gosh that's uncanny, I have never understood how you even do it."

"Natural talent? And more practice than you might think, at least when I was younger." Alaisa waves her free hand. "I spent a lot of time just making sounds as a child."

"I mean, children do," observes Sintha. "But we don't all turn out brilliant at it."

"Not, like, babbling, I mean… creaky door opening," Ally says, and makes the noise of a creaky door opening. "To scare my big brothers, mostly." The noise of the ballroom washes over them as they enter, and Alaisa begins to steer them towards the auctioneer.

"Oh, I used to just tell Shay I'd hexed him. I suppose that's why I never needed scary noises. What a pity — if only Shay had been harder to frighten." She sighs theatrically. "I might have realized my full potential as well."

Alaisa chuckles. "Could you have hexed him?"

"I'll never tell," says Sintha solemnly, and then immediately tells: "No. But he didn't know that. And honestly as best I can tell, half the secret to hexing is making your victim believe he's been hexed."

"Noted," Ally says, and then they have arrived at the line of display tables. She looks at each item in turn as they pass by and puts a smile on her face as she approaches the auctioneer. "Hello again, ma'am."

Miss Curran smiles politely and regards the pair over the rim of her tortoiseshell glasses. "My ladies?"

"I wanted to check if I am still the leading bidder for the lots I placed bids on earlier," Lady Alaisa says, her expression perfectly composed. "And place a bid on lot number ten as well." She does not look at Sintha.

Miss Curran checks her clipboard. "You are, my lady," she murmurs, glances up at Alaisa, and nods. "And very good." She makes an additional notation, and offers a faint, fleeting smile.

"Oooh," says Sintha, standing on tiptoe as if to see the auctioneer's clipboard — which Miss Curran is very much not revealing — "how interesting!" She gives Alaisa a bright, wide-eyed look.

Alaisa smiles politely back at Miss Curran. "Thank you," she says, and turns back to Sintha, tilting her head in the direction of the current dancers. "Might I have this dance, Lady Sintha?"

"You may, Lady Alaisa," says Sintha laughingly, and drops a little mock curtsey.

Alaisa curtsies back and formally offers Sintha her arm to lead her out onto the dance floor, but her expression is bright and excited.

Sintha confides, smilingly, "I don't know this one at all," and then — either belying this claim, or (more probably) showing off her skill for observation and improvisation — twirls sparklingly into the first steps, and casts an impish, coy-lashed look over at Alaisa.

"Really?" Alaisa takes the lead in the dance, and she definitely knows this one. "Could've fooled me. Well, I do."

"Well then naturally you shall lead, milord," says Sintha, laughing again, and allows herself gracefully and light-footed to be led.

Alaisa's laugh at being called 'milord' is really more of an undignified and unladylike snort. "Naturally. Light, I'm out of practice. I haven't done this one in years."

Ally does not appear to be out of practice if all one takes into account is the confidence with which she leads, but in truth, the way in which she leads seems to be more about creating opportunities for Sintha to show off rather than precisely following the exact set of steps that the rest of the couples who know this dance are doing.

It becomes clear that Sintha's initial assertion was correct, and she does not in fact know this dance, but prompted by Alaisa's lead she is happy to show off improvisationally. "I really ought to know them all," she confides with a smile. "But honestly I usually try to avoid dancing at these things, for aforementioned reasons."

Ally, true to her word, keeps her hands exactly where they ought to be. "You seem like you're having fun, though!" The lightness in her tone is carefully constructed, but Alaisa is looking at Sintha with a searching expression, perhaps looking for confirmation that she is in fact having fun for real.

"I am!" laughs Sintha, and twirls, catching Alaisa with a practiced coy look over her shoulder. It is impossible to gauge her sincerity, but she does appear to be having fun, and moves smoothly back into the step with Ally after her spin. "Are you? We're going to have to absolutely flee, you know, when we're finished, because now we've been incriminated as dancers and they'll all be lined up for their turns."

"Oh, yes, I am," Alaisa confirms, grinning. "They'll be lining up for you, I would imagine, as the hostess. I haven't been in demand in years."

"Only because you design to fade, and I design to flaunt. If ever you should choose to swap your shadows for a little shimmer, I'm sure you'd hardly catch your breath against the press of attention. Who can resist a brilliant lady?" Sintha's smile is a sly curve.

Ally appears to be blushing a little, which she can't exactly suppress on demand the way she can most things. She doesn't miss a single step in the dance, though. "Other brilliant ladies, I tend to find, often have their fair share of options already."

Sintha raises her eyebrows archly. "Oh, is it like that? Well, darling, between the pair of us I expect we know ever-so-many brilliant ladies. I am practically a collector."

"It is very much like that, I'm afraid," Alaisa says, a little ruefully.

"Why afraid?" laughs Sintha. "Honestly, brilliant ladies are rather thicker on the ground than brilliant men. I expect you've made your life terribly easier in some ways."

"By narrowing down my options?" Alaisa shakes her head. "Ah, well. Regardless." The song hits its final notes, and Ally leads Sintha through another fun little twirl as the dance concludes.

Sintha twirls out gaily, smiling at Alaisa, and strikes a brief, graceful dancer's pose at the end of the twirl. She lets go of Alaisa's hand and dips a demure curtsey. "Thank you ever-so-much, milord. That was absolutely the loveliest dance I've had in years."

She bobs up again, grinning. "If I don't flee now, though, they'll descend like locusts. I really must."

Ally curtsies in return. "The pleasure was all mine. Thank you, Lady Sintha." She grins. "Go, I'll hold them off," she says very dramatically, like she's talking about fighting off an enemy army to buy time for Sintha to escape.

Sintha darts in to give Alaisa a quick, merry little hug and an air-kiss on the cheek. "The most gallant," she assures her, and then sweeps laughingly away.

Alaisa stares after her for a moment, her smile fading slowly. She moves off the dance floor like a ghost, slipping between couples and out of sight with light, practiced steps.