(2023-06-01) Never Quite Proceeding In A Straight Conversational Line

Details

Author:	Athena
Summary:	Avrenne continues her dancing to campaign for her chosen candidates to sing the convincing notes for Count Lester Amerith. 1800 words.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Ringside Seats

It is noon in Stormwind, the bright sun overhead sparkling off the waters of the canals, giving the appearance of a jeweled snake winding its way between the districts. True to his routine, Count Lester Amerith is eating at a cafe on the Trade District side of the canals, a small, struggling operation run by a young woman who can't even afford a roof over the place, so she makes do with umbrellas and outdoor seating.

He finishes his sandwich, with pickles this time, rather than his usual order of fruit, and makes ready to leave.

Avrenne doesn't exactly appear behind him completely in a jump scare, but it's close enough to be uncanny that he turned around and suddenly without warning there is a golden haired duchess, wearing a deep gold silk dress with strange, twining black embroidery stretching up from her wrists. Her hair is worked into a twist, pinned back from her face, and there's a fine line of black lining her lashes that makes her eyes look even more intense.

"Lord Amerith." She doesn't say it's a surprise to see him. Maybe it isn't. How long was she there? Did she know he was going to be there? Is this a planned thing? Spur of the moment? Unclear, and that cool composed expression she wears gives nothing away.

Lester raises a single eyebrow at her sudden? appearance. "Duchess," he says, a note of surprise in his voice. It is impossible to tell if it's genuine, or feigned for dramatics. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The cafe owner's eyes go big at the sight of Avrenne, and she tries to blend in with an umbrella. She has long since grown accustomed to Lester, but this is a duchess!

"Oh, to the usual things, I should think," Avrenne says ambiguously. She flicks her eyes to the cafe owner, and then looks back to Lester, that same enigmatic, almost icy look in those dark eyes.

Lester tips his hat to the young woman, causing her to beam a bright smile at him… and then turn terribly pink as she remembers there is still a duchess here.

"Would you prefer to relocate?" he asks Avrenne. "Or perhaps have a walk?"

"Oh, it's a lovely day for a walk, isn't it?" Avrenne says as she raises a hand up in expectation of an escort of his arm. It would be incredibly rude to leave her hanging there.

Lester offers his arm, naturally. What a gentleman. He begins to lead at a slow pace along the canals, heading towards the Cathedral District. "It is a fine day, much like the day before it, and the one before that." There is a barely visible smile on his lips. He is poking fun at the idea of small talk. "And I suppose congratulations are in order?"

"For the fineness of the day? Well, I cannot say I had much to do with it," Avrenne says and there's a touch of something almost playful in the wit of it.

Lester's smile widens ever so slightly, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. "Very good, my lady, very good. Congratulations on the engagement, of course. I heard about it by chance, and I must say it's a wonder the news didn't escape me entirely."

"Thank you. The Commodore is quite the navigator. News of him must first find him as he weaves around the ice in the water, and there are few as capable as him in evading such things. But there are always moments of chance to catch a glimpse of his mind and purpose. How fortunate that you were able to get one." There's a gentle implication on the word one as though there may, in fact, be few others. What will Siamus think and do next? Who can say, is the tone.

"Yes, how fortunate indeed." His expression returns to a relaxed neutral, and, as they round the gentle corner, a probably familiar blonde woman carrying a basket of groceries comes into view, admiring some flowers. She makes eye contact, her gaze flitting between Lester and Avrenne, before bobbing a quick curtsey and continuing on. To the observant, there is something knowing in the light smile she sends Lester's way. "Quite a number of military men have come back due to recent events, wouldn't you say? And here I thought they would rather be warring."

"Oh, now, there's so many ways to wage a war," Avrenne says, her dark gaze flicking to the blonde woman. "You know, a military acquaintance of mine has quite given up the sword for such, but he's currently embroiled in a battle to acquire a long lost play. It hasn't been seen by anyone since the Fall of Lordaeron."

"Oh?" Lester's eyebrows lift, betraying his genuine interest. "Now that is a worthy endeavor. I should be more than happy to assist, if there is a way in which I might be of use."

"Mm. Perhaps he will find his way to you," Avrenne replies. "The trouble will be that even if he does locate it, the where for it to be seen again remains as a barrier. It has quite a dramatic ending in a harbor. Lordaeron had a grand production of it, but I wonder how we would ever get to see it in its true glory here."

"Such concerns can be left entirely to me. I have a number of resources to call upon, and a number still of favors owed. It would be no less than an honor to see such a piece restored and engraved in the hearts of Stormwind's citizens." He casts his gaze sideways at her. "I do wonder, my lady duchess, if you have some sort of agenda, in bringing this to my attention? I am not above trading favors myself, if that is something you are seeking."

"Isn't the knowledge of enriching Stormwind's citizens favor enough of a trade?" Avrenne's expression remains that enigmatic neutral. "After all, I have been such an honored guest here. What more could I possibly want than to see the city thriving? Art and a place for art can be it's own reward. Surely you know of my dear friendships?" It is, after all, no secret that the Duchess Esprit holds a long time friendship with the Lady Morgauna Thenedain, and the well-known painter Lady Priscilla Moore.

"Of course, of course," Lester returns his gaze to the street ahead just in time to turn them onto the bridge separating the Trade and Cathedral Districts. The faint smile has returned. "What are your thoughts on children? I recall the topic came up briefly at the gala, but you were not present at the Children's Week charity event."

"My thoughts on children for a trade of favors? Goodness, Lord Amerith, what a suggestion," Avrenne says and there's that something like a cross between a scold and a tease in her voice. "I have the care of four or two, as one defines it, already. Surely you can't think me lacking."

Lester's lips twitch in amusement. "Not at all," he says. "In truth I have found my own interest piqued by the very two Miss Ilanya mentioned. I thought I might pay them a visit. I don't suppose children are good with lions?"

"I suppose that depends on the lions in question, and if they are live, political, or stuffed full of sawdust," Avrenne quips back.

"Amalia is alive, magnificent, and one-hundred percent lion," Lester replies. He is serious. He lives with a live lion. It's probably not that surprising, actually.

"Then I suspect that unless those children were raised by wolves at some point, that they will be very poor companions for Amalia. Especially if she doesn't know how to play patty cake or sing lullabies," Avrenne says in such a serious tone that it's impossible to tell if she's genuinely humoring him or joking. "Especially for visitors. I do recommend studying up yourself, Lord Amerith. Surely you know at least one good lullaby?"

"Well, I did have a mother who used to sing them, but that was terribly long ago, now. A spot of studying couldn't go amiss." Lester continues the banter with the same severity, but in all likeliness, he is doing so to match his conversation partner. "Do you have any recommendations?"

"For mothers to study lullabies from? Well, I suppose you could go to the Lady Ference. She has a young son, and surely must know some," Avrenne says, twisting along the conversation with that same deft hand, never quite proceeding in a straight conversational line.

"Now there's an idea. From what Lord Ference himself said, his family is close with the caretaker of the children. Perhaps I should pay them a visit first. Bring some cheese along, hmm? The good Lady Ference seemed awfully fond of it." He turns them again when they step off the bridge, this time proceeding towards the Park.

"She did. Though, I suspect aside from a delight in the food, she has little else in common with a mouse. I expect Amalia would not find her particularly entertaining." Avrenne lets him set the course, walking with that stately air. "Lord Ference might know more of what to do with a lion, but not in his own house, I would think."

"That is a shame," he says. "I would bring Amalia more places, but few seem to understand her magnificence."

"Perhaps they're simply unused to seeing a lion moving about and not made of stone or paint," Avrenne says. "Imagine if you were to convince her to be painted gray and stand perfectly still for guests to assume she was nothing more than another Stormwind decoration. Oh, but that would be terribly mischievous, don't you think?"

Lester chuckles at this. "For a Hallows End event, perhaps. Her eyes tracking the visitors might give them quite a scare. Alas, it is a long ways off now. Next will be the fire festival, and she is trained to jump through flaming hoops. For the proper reward, of course."

"Aren't we all?" Avrenne asks, as she turns her attention to Lester for a moment. "And who knows? Perhaps my husband-to-be will sit beside you soon enough. And with me on his other side. It might be interesting, don't you think, in that case, to see if there may be something, in the end, that I do want after all." Those dark eyes with a wall between him and her, nothing obvious in those ambiguous and undefined words, as she gives an appropriate curtsy for their relative stations. "Do enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Lord Amerith."

"Perhaps he will," Lester says mildly. "And perhaps I will look forward to finding out, if that is in the cards." He offers her a dramatic bow, removing his hat and everything. "Farewell, lady duchess." With a faint smile of amusement, Lester continues towards the Park.