(2025-01-21) Dances 1 Through 3 (Dance Dance Part 1)

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Author:	Athena
Summary:	At last, it is the afternoon of Aze's dance party! The guests arrive, necessary introductions are made, and the dancing commences with an array of classical Lordaeron and Stormwind dances from the Galop to the Waltz. There are exciting War Talk party corners, friends catching up after long times no see, mysterious (invisible??) horses and birds in the ballroom, word magics, and new rapports and friendships made. 30k words. Part 1 of 4.
Rating:	T for Teen

Chain: Dance Dance Day

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romance, flirtation, hints of faction/racial conflicts

The 21st of January is wholly pleasant for a winter's day, a bright sun in a paler blue sky that warms the cold up to brisk rather than freezing, and a light mostly harmless wind that doesn't do more than tug playfully at people's hems and hats, and gives sweet prickles of pinches on exposed cheeks and noses. Fallon House doesn't seem as foreboding in this light, if it still has some austerity to it from the gray stone. Along the gravel drive stand the grooms ready to deal with horses and carriages for the guests arriving.

Within the house there has been a certain expectant energy through the morning of preparations for the afternoon, but not the true bustle before an event. Indeed, for much of the house, routine has been as usual for any general Tuesday. Luncheon was served as it ordinarily would be. One small indication of the specialness of the day is that the band arrived around noon to set up in the ballroom, and begin warming up around 1pm, the sounds of which are heard through the open door.

The ballroom has been given a small treatment of decoration. There are tables, draped richly with House Fallon colors of navy and silver, laden with refreshments desirable for a group of dancers in pitchers and bottles: fresh water with ice, cooled soda water (both plain and another infused with an essence of orange), fresh milk from Elywnn, lemonade done in a Lordaeron style with violets for garnish, and a bottle of Siamus' favorite whiskey (Dabyrie, Malt, 18 Year). Glasses stand ready for use, to be poured by a waiting footman.

For the fourteen dancers, there are fourteen chairs, sashed with Alliance colors of blue and gold, placed neatly along near the refreshment tables, in two rows of curving seven chairs to encourage conversation should many be seated at once. The band is seated opposite, far enough away from the dancing area designated for the day to be pleasant to listen to, and not overwhelming. Their seats are cushioned, but not beribboned.

And dotted amongst this section of the ballroom are smaller display tables sporting bouquets — deep reds of poinsettias and anthurium flowers amidst sprays of the feathery green arbor vitae and dark brown with pops of red berries of currant branches.

As the time grows closer to the start of the party (1:30pm, as the invitations and instructions at Family Dinner gave it), at least one member of the household cannot wait patiently for it. Dressed in a poofy, full skirted gown of soft sunshine yellow, with flower like petals capping her sleeves that start two little streamers down to the floor, a sweetheart bodice, and a topaz necklace in the shape of a flower, with hair done almost all the way up — half of it in two braids that meet into a bun over half down in an increasingly wild tangle of dark brown waves — is Isla Lenaire, who is about to attend her first real party that isn't just a wedding. She flits around the door of the ballroom, peeking inside at the band, and then darting more glances at the door, and the stairs, and the door again, and the hallway, unable to contain her bubbling excitement.

Aszera Sunstrike is another who turns up a little early. Her time sense is not as precise as her custom-made watch, and she likely decided to err on the side of not-late. She's wearing a dark blue, flowing dress with flowers embroidered in light-colored thread on the bodice and scattered on the skirt and sleeves. Those sleeves reach roughly halfway down, belling out at the end, and ends of her tattoos are visible peaking out beneath them.

She notices Isla at the doorway to the room and smiles fondly. "Isla! You look lovely."

That compliment might mean more coming from someone who could actually see her dress or jewelry or hair or… well, anything.

Isla swishes her dress so enthusiastically that it throws her off balance, and she catches herself clumsily on the threshold of the ballroom. She doesn't enter yet though, because it isn't Time, and she is not supposed to be in there until it starts. But, as per the bylaws of sibling arguments, she is not in the ballroom, she is in the hallway, and thus not in violation.

"Thank you!" She does not seem to consider that Aze can't actually see her, she's just pleased by the compliment. Her balance recaught enough to move forward she reaches out for Aze's hands. "You look so lovely. It's such a pretty dress. You look just a maiden ready to drift down a river in a boat surrounded by flowers, trapped in some eternal sleep, broken when you arrive on the shore of a castle!" Again, it's a little specific, but it's probably from a story. "Oh, I'm so excited. Are you excited? I know it's probably nothing much to you, after all you've done, but it's my first party like this. I can't tell you how wonderful it is that we get to have it because you're here."

"I'm excited," Aze counters, "And a little nervous, if you can believe it. I've been to plenty of dances, but never one here, never one with all of these people, and that makes it something different altogether."

Aze smiles wider, considering Isla, "You look like a fragment of music trapped in mortal flesh, a rising melody of hope and joy, playing constantly into silence and waiting to be heard by ears that will understand." That's pretty specific too, who knows where it's from. Aze waits a beat, and then adds, "That, or a princess."

Isla's hands leave Aze to spring up to her face, pressing against her cheeks. "Oh, gosh," she says, a slang picked up from her idol and model for future self, Sintha. She moves her hands off her face to hold them to her chest like she's grabbed the words and shoved them into herself for safe keeping. "That's so poetical. No one has ever described me like that before, and it's the most wonderful thing. Hold on, I'll be right back, I just need to write that down." She bustles back into the hallway past Aze, repeating to herself a fragment of music… rising melody of hope to herself as she rushes back up the stairs, tripping on the first step, catching herself barely in time on the banister with an oof.

There's another sound of her tripping at the top of the stairs, but this one is accompanied by a masculine voice chastising her. "Isla! For Light's sake, what are you running like that for?"

"Oh, let me go, I have to write something down before it's all out of my head," Isla tells him. The sound of footfalls indicates that she is still running, with all the risk of that.

"Don't run! You know what Avrenne'd say!" Finley half-shouts down the hall. It has no impact whatsoever on Isla.

Finley descends the stairs silently, catching sight of Aze by the ballroom, and raising a companionable hand in greeting. "Miss Sunstrike. That's a lovely dress. It suits you well. I gather you and Isla spoke of something that's set her at teleporting speed to write something down?" He sounds amused and pleasant. Unseen by Aze, he wears a nondescript soft brown colored coat and waistcoat, with a faintly warmer hued white shirt, and a maroon cravat secured by a gold disc. His hair is well brushed and falls in as tidy waves as can be made from the untidy waves he has to work with.

Aze lets the younger girl run off without further comment, though there's a good-natured amusement in her smile as she hears the ensuing conversation. She turns toward Finley as he approaches the ballroom door.

"Thank you, Mr. Boutille," Aze says, with a polite nod of her head, still smiling. "And yes, probably - I told her she looks beautiful, but in a way that I think she liked. She has a very poetic way of thinking. How do you think I would look, drifting in a boat surrounded by flowers?"

Aze can't see the look on Finley's face, if he makes any sort of expression, or if he rolls his eyes up to look through the floor above them in the direction of a wayward teenager. He closes some of the distance in a few long strides, his hands in his pockets. "I think you would look much like a painting. Depending on the flowers, and the water you're drifting in, might have a number of tones. What's your preference? Tragic figure of woe or mystical traveler at peace?"

"I think Isla would prefer the former," Aze says with a slight, one-shouldered shrug. "But maybe the truth is somewhere in between. Or in transition. Do you paint those sorts of pictures?"

"I'm not much one for figure portraits, so not exactly. Landscapes are my focus at the moment. Some of them arguably tragic, others arguably mystical, and plenty right now arguably both, but that's Azeroth for you," Finley answers, a sullen note of pessimism coloring his pleasant gentleman tone. It's banished when he continues, "Did you like art much before?"

"Oh, yes," Aze says, a touch of wistfulness coming into her smile. "I was never a painter myself, but I had a few friends…" She refocuses on the present, and Finley. "I wish I could see your landscapes, but, well. Maybe if you ever mix something arcane in with the paints. Or I get better at looking."

"Mix the arcane in paint? That'd be something," Finley says. "The draenei have something with that study of theirs, don't they? Inscription, they call it. Something to do with magical inks. Her Grace was looking into it not long ago, ordered some of it a while back. Wonder if you can see those."

"I wonder," Aze says, curiously. "Do you think you could paint with those inks? Or is there something about them that would make that difficult?"

"People do things with all sorts of inks," Finley answers. "Cost might be the only concern. They're not cheap, even in small amounts."

Aze shrugs, and doesn't ask if cost is really a concern here in Fallon House. Instead, she just says, "If you do ever give it a try, I'd love to see your work."

Outside, a carriage pulls up, and Lady Alaisa Lysander emerges from it. She is bundled in a thick shawl of soft gray wool, which the wind tugs at immediately. The deep blue skirt of her dress is visible, as are her black shoes. The wind mercilessly blows her curly hair into her face.

The carriage is seen to by the grooms, and the door to House Fallon opens in anticipation by Vane in butler instinct.

Finley's attention is alerted by some same instinct, head turning over his shoulder, and a reflexive straightening of his posture.

Isla attempts some level of elegance as she comes down the stairs again, holding onto the banister; she is instantly distracted from her careful descent by the door opening and a guest arriving. "Oh!" She bounces down the last few steps, and nearly face plants at the end, catching herself with a jerk of movement with her hand on the banister. Whew. "Oh, hello!"

Aze straightens, her face brightening with delight. She turns towards Alaisa, and says, as if her arrival might have been in doubt, "You're here! It's been a while since Northrend, hasn't it?"

"Oh, hello!" Alaisa smiles, shedding her shawl and passing it off with a quiet thank you. Her dress is all that same dark blue, with a neat row of buttons down the front, white lace at the collar, and a very unique brooch pinned below her throat: a moth, made of delicate silver filigree with deep green emeralds adorning the wings. "Weather's been chilly lately," she greets Isla using her in-character as Villager #2 voice - one of the few lines she actually got to speak in The Briarthorn Witch. "Aze, it's been ages," she says, walking closer.

Isla beams a sunny smile at Alaisa and Aze, as she swishes closer. "You know each other already? From Northrend as well," she says, stating the obvious. "Oh, this is so exciting. Aze, Alaisa was in the play with us. She was an excellent villager, and knew everyone's lines, so if you didn't remember yours, you could always ask her and she always knew."

Finley, who remembers his manners well, gives Alasia an appropriate bow. "Lady Alaisa, what a pleasure to see you again."

Isla only remembers hers after Finley's. Oops. She dips into an awkward curtsey that wobbles a little. "Oh, yes, so good to see you again, and so glad you could come today."

"Mr. Boutille, Miss Lenaire, thank you for having me," Alaisa returns with the appropriate curtsy of her own.

Aze carefully does a curtsey, with a faint amused smile that seems to say am I playing this role well enough? "I'm certain Lady Alaisa was wonderful in the play, though I'm sad to have missed it."

Alaisa goes and wraps Aze up in a quick little hug without further hesitation.

Isla does an excellent impression as the oh gosh emoji.

Finley's brows raise. He wasn't expecting that. But, the guest list seems to make more sense to him now.

Aze accepts the embrace without surprise or hesitation on her side. Before she lets go, she murmurs, "I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah," Alaisa says quietly, clearly pleased to see Aze. "Same." She lets go, but she remains standing near Aze, telegraphing her clear comfort with the sin'dorei woman. "When I saw your name on the invitation it was such a shock."

"Maybe I should have written?" Aze asks with a light laugh. "It's been a whole… road… but I'm hoping I'll be around here more in the future. Stormwind, and all."

The Duke and Duchess Esprit, Lord and Lady Fallon, appear at the top of the stairs. It must be 1:20.

Admiral Fallon is wearing, to everyone's no doubt astonishment, a crisply-tailored dark blue suit. His waistcoat is an almost-silvery shade of ash grey, his cravat a shade lighter still, and said cravat is jauntily askew. His hair is roguishly tousled, and he is smiling that inscrutable smile that everyone here (except Aze) is familiar with.

His dark gaze travels from face to face as he escorts his wife down the stairs, and lingers appreciatively on Aze, who cannot see that either. Maybe she can sense the Vibe.

Avrenne's gaze flicks from person to person, noting who is there and who is not yet, and what they wear and where they stand in relation to each other. Her expression does not change at all from the composed ice queen. Some might have some interest in her dress, with its particular coloring of shifting oceanic blues into darker fel tones and a design of gold beaded coral from her right hip to her left shoulder, a softened mermaid's silhouette built to flatter her softer form with strategic draping, the back open significantly to expose the flawed Circinus constellation over her spine. It is not quite a ballroom dress; it is definitely an event dress. Her hair is up in a smooth coiled chignon, with a single long golden ribbon of a curl left out over her right shoulder. She has her dill-pressed disc earrings, and an interesting necklace of Zandalari gold and jade at her throat. She wears more cosmetics than her everyday choice, dark grays on her lids that emphasize her eyes.

She is all practiced elegance as she descends the stairs, a flawless curated appearance.

Finley immediately shifts his attention from Aze and Alaisa to Avrenne, stepping further out of the way.

Isla claps excitedly, nearly vibrating from repressing the urge to squeal and yell something like, can we start can we start is it party time?!

"Your Grace. Admiral Fallon." Alaisa greets them both with the appropriate curtsy and an inscrutable smile of her own.

Siamus focuses his attention on Alaisa. I see that you, too, have an inscrutable smile may be what his smile now means, but we cannot know for sure, because we cannot scrute it. He inclines his head courteously to her.

Finley stares a little too hard at both Alaisa and Siamus as he attempts to scrute both of them, before he remembers he is not supposed to be so obvious in his readings of people, and forces his face to relax back into the pleasant gentleman. He's still watching them, though. What are they being so inscrutable about.

Avrenne returns the curtsey. "Lady Alaisa, thank you for coming. I hope your parents are well?"

Isla inhales a breath and holds it so she doesn't interrupt.

"Yes, as of this morning," Alaisa returns with a smile. "Allow me to congratulate you both on the new additions to your family."

Siamus's smile widens and becomes a little less inscrutable. "Thank ye kindly, Lady Alaisa." He surveys the foyer again and his brows draw together. "Has Ta not shown herself yet?" Sintha Mairead don't make me count to three. Your playdate is here.

Avrenne nods her own thanks for the well wishes, and turns her attention to the others. "Finley. Isla. Miss Sunstrike," she greets accordingly again. She saw them not long ago, and it's merely her way of acknowledging them once more.

"Oh, Avrenne, can we go in yet?" Isla begs, losing the battle of willpower in a rush of breath. "It must be almost 1:30, isn't it?"

"Yes, you may go in if you would like," Avrenne says with a mother's patience. Isla begins to dart for the ballroom. "Isla." That's a mother's warning. Isla slows her roll deliberately, taking exaggeratingly slow and careful steps as she is drawn by an invisible hook into the ballroom.

Finley does not. He's waiting for Joelle at the least.

"I love your earrings, your Grace," Alaisa says. "May I ask which flower they are?"

Avrenne's dark eyes flick to Alaisa, holding there as she raises a hand up to one earring, touching the back of it with a fingernail, her expression a careful composure. "The flower? Oh, I think it is dill?" Was that a softening lilt or a question? "It might be elderflower or chervil," she says without missing a beat, knowing exactly what flower it is, presenting the other options as potentially equally likely, flowers with other meanings like Zealousness and Sincerity. "They were a gift." She turns her attention to Alaisa's brooch. "Your brooch is very lovely. It looks custom made."

Aze stands quietly for now, listening. Uncharacteristically silent.

Siamus studies Alaisa with fresh, amused-looking interest.

"They do look very similar," Alaisa concedes, her smile getting warmer. "Thank you. It was a gift as well," she says, reaching up to touch one of the delicate wings with a fingertip. Her nail polish is so subtle that it's difficult to tell she's wearing any at first, especially from a distance, and the rest of her makeup is even subtler than that. "From Lady Sintha, as it happens."

"Oh, of course. Exquisite work, as always from Sintha," Avrenne says in that cool politeness of hers. Her eyes flick to the side to look at Siamus with this information.

Isla pops her head back out of the ballroom, making uselessly pleading eyes at Aze.

Siamus is studying the brooch now. (Respectfully.) "A lovely piece," he concedes, and then studies Alaisa herself some more like there's something about her he can't quite put his finger on….

There is a low and confidential murmur of voices — a man's and a woman's — at the top of the stairs, and a soft syllable of laughter from the man. Mr. Shine appears with Lena on his arm. He is escorting her with every appearance of genteel courtesy, but he has not quite erased the traces of his smile.

He wears a black suit with a grey brocade waistcoat and a black cravat. Or… is it purple? It is one of those elusive hues that seems to shift with the light, and could be either a sober dusty black or a very dark plum.

On his arm, Lena is in a fairly pink dress in some kind of satiny fabric, with short sleeves and a long skirt. She's smiling at him, as if at a private joke. As she turns to the assembled crowd, the brightness of her smile fades into something more reserved and polite.

Avrenne's head turns, the elegance of it as if there is an invisible string suspended from the ceiling. If there is a slight gleam of satisfaction in her eyes, it is blinked away quickly. "Miss Coit. Shine." She allows a small smile to both.

Isla now practically spills out of the doorway of the ballroom, moving to see what everyone — well, almost everyone — is looking at. "Oh! How pretty!" she says, about something. The dress? The couple? All of the above?

Finley glances back at the two, noting something perhaps, and then back to the door that hasn't opened to reveal his dance partner yet, and there's the start of a defensive hunch of his shoulders that he's losing the fight at holding relaxed.

Alaisa looks up at the two of them as they descend. "Lena, it's good to see you. Mr. Shine, hello."

"Lady Alaisa," Shine greets her courteously.

Siamus is grinning at Shine and Lena. He forgets to stop grinning before either of them can notice. Shine definitely notices.

Lena, still smiling politely, says, "It's good to see you again, Lady Alaisa." If she notices Siamus's grin, she makes no sign of it.

"Stars above, I am not late, Siamus Aidan," says Sintha's voice tartly, as though she has read her brother's mind from a moment ago. She breezes into the foyer not down the stairs but from one of the side corridors that leads to the back of the house. What was she doing? Who knows, it's Sintha.

She is dressed in a high-necked gown of deep blue velvet, with draping juliette sleeves and a corseted bodice. Small pearls scattered like stars adorn her bodice and lower sleeves, and her earrings are matching pearl studs. Her dark hair is gathered into a smooth, heavy knot at the nape of her neck; her only makeup appears to be smoky midnight blue eyeliner and a touch of clear lip gloss.

She brightens at once when she sees Alaisa and beelines for her. "Lace! You're here! I'm not late." A blithe air-kiss dispensed, she draws back again to look the other woman over. "Don't you look fetching, we practically match, don't we? And your moth! You wore it!"

Lace - as exactly one person here is allowed to call her - does not stare. She most specifically does not stare. "Sintha, you look radiant. We do, don't we? I didn't plan that. But of course I wore it."

Sintha beams. She is radiant, isn't she?

Aze tenses as this new person seems to target Alaisa, but then relaxes when she hears the pleasant greetings on both sides.

Avrenne gives Sintha a small smile, not as reserved or cold, but affectionate in its own way, and it's reflected in her voice. "Lady Sintha, perfect timing as always. Allow me to introduce our latest guest of the Admiral's, Miss Aszera Sunstrike."

Aze smiles brightly at the introduction. Sintha is a new person, a noble, Siamus's sister, which means time to curtsey. She curtsies.

"Oh, the Admiral's guest, of course," Sintha says, and turns to Aze wearing a rapt, wide-eyed smile, which reveals to the rest of the foyer the backless drape of her elegant gown. "Miss Sunstrike, how do you do? I have a thousand absolutely horrifying stories about the Admiral, should you ever like to hear them." She looks Aze up and down. "But I'm so pleased you could join us." She sweeps over to proffer air kisses.

Siamus eyes his sister narrowly but does not rise to any bait.

"I'm well, thank you," Aze is perfectly happy to trade air kisses, and then she says with a small, innocent smile, "I do like stories, Lady Sintha, as Miss Lenaire might confirm."

"Oh, good." Sintha smiles like the little girl from the gif.

Lace double-blinks at Sintha's back and then politely focuses on Lena's and Shine's faces instead, her face a polite mask.

Lena looks on with that same polite, reserved smile. "Lady Sintha. I hope you've been well."

Now she turns to survey Lena. "Gosh, aren't you a vision, Miss Coit? I am doing very well. Not as well as Mr. Shine is, probably." She turns an arch look on Shine, and then drifts over to give Lena an air-kiss as well. She takes Lena's hand and squeezes it briefly.

Shine smiles faintly at her. "Lady Sintha."

"Mr. Shine," Sintha greets him crisply, as though they have just been introduced and she is maybe Avrenne for a minute.

Lena raises an eyebrow slightly at the chill, darting a quick glance to Shine, but says to Sintha, "Thank you, Lady Sintha, you look positively lovely yourself. It's so good you were able to get away from the 7th for an afternoon of dancing."

Isla has been trying very hard to be Avrenne for a minute. She is not succeeding very well, and she bursts out, "Oh, Sintha, it's true. Aze has the most wonderful, tragically romantic stories! Now that you're home, can we show her the menagerie? Oh, please?" Yes, this menagerie of little engineering that… Aze… cannot really see. Well, she can hear them maybe.

Finley smiles at Sintha, all pleasant gentleman, but there's a guarded look in his eyes even more than before. Sintha has too much of her own scruting powers.

Avrenne is always Avrenne, and so she watches the gathering in the foyer with that cool composure, her hand still on Siamus' arm in escort, as the time grows closer to the start of the party by official decree.

Shine's smile only widens at Sintha's frost. This might be an inside joke.

Sintha turns rapturously to Isla. "Has she? Gosh, how marvelous. And I would love to show her the menagerie, absolutely. Did you see Lace's — that is, Lady Alaisa's — moth?" And then she pauses and widens her eyes in even more rapturous rapture; one gets the impression that in a moment she might explode ecstatically. In, you know, whatever sense. "Oh, Isla, aren't you a belle? Gosh, do a twirl for me, darling! — Slowly, a slow twirl, for the full effect."

The warning to make it a slow twirl comes just in time before Isla spins off like a top, going who knows where. As she t u r n s, slooowllyyyy, she tries for Avenne's stately effect, but does not achieve it because she half-rushes the last 25 or so degrees because she has to see Sintha's expression and she cannot wait. "It's my first party dress," she tells Sintha, unnecessarily. "Avrenne said it would be all right for it to be so big, but I would have to wear my hair down, because I'm not out yet, but I can do all the proper dances to practice."

Alaisa smiles, content to fade into the background and watch the others for the time being.

Sintha's expression is everything Isla might have hoped it would be, because Sintha has done all kinds of practicing of her own in her day. "Oh," is all she says, meltingly, and flutters a hand to her bosom in delicate sororal pride.

Siamus lifts his gaze to the ceiling. Even money as to whether he is exasperated or trying not to laugh. Maybe both.

Finley fights the urge to roll his eyes, possibly out of more healthy fear/respect for Sintha than anything, instead choosing to dutifully admire the brooch Alaisa wears, with the look of a man without interest in either jewelry or the woman wearing it. Yup. That's a brooch.

Isla beams so brightly it probably hurts her face a little, and she claps happily. "Everyone looks so beautiful, and everyone is just perfect. Wait until you see the band. It's a real one, and there's even a draenei. She's ever so tall." Her voice is growing louder and louder, and we are approaching the mark past the Inside Voice. "And there's whiskey on the drink tables, and lemonade and — "

Avrenne doesn't say a warning, but she does look at Isla with it. Isla's cascade of words slows to a trickle as she concludes, in a more subdued tone, back to a quiet attempt at meekness, "And other refreshments."

Two horses arrive at Fallon House, at not exactly the same time, as one is traveling significantly behind the other and something about it doesn't seem quite… alive. Brendol, wearing a plain brown suit, dismounts the first horse, Auriga, as he gets close to the stables, maybe intending to see to her himself. The other horse vanishes into the shadows, and Harvey, wearing a suit of red and white, his runesword at his side, walks the rest of the way, waiting for Brendol at the door.

Brendol, not (yet) part of the House, is politely but expertly handled to be shooed out of taking care of his horse, because he is, at this stage, a Guest. Sorry, Bren. You can't delay.

Brendol joins Harvey at the door, having been turned away, and Harvey knocks politely. If the death knight is nervous, it doesn't show behind his own social mask. Bren, however, is a Westwind, and his nerves are plain to see.

Harvey has not finished the second knock before the door is open and Vane is Looming there. There is a very real risk of accidentally knocking on Vane instead. Vane has been poised and waiting.

He stands aside to usher the two gentlemen in.

The foyer closer to the ballroom's hallway is filled with people. Maybe not a lot of people by some standards, but unfortunately for Harvey this one contains quite a few familiar faces.

One of which turns as if on a string to look directly at him, the ice queen herself, radiating the energy of the late 8th Duke Esprit. "Mr. Morningdew. Mr. Westwind. Thank you for joining us."

Harvey does not jump, but there is a long pause in which he stares at the butler, before composing himself enough to enter. Bren is not so fortunate, and lets out a strangled squeak as the door opens sooner than expected. His cheeks turn a shameful pink as he follows Harvey inside.

Harvey pauses when addressed, bowing. "Your Grace," he says. "Admiral. Thank you for the invitation. It was… a welcome surprise." How welcome it actually was is up for debate, but his real feelings are carefully hidden.

Bren bows beside him, lower than necessary, perhaps to hide his face. "Y-Your Grace," he says. "Admiral…?"

"Morningdew," Siamus greets Harvey courteously, and then with more warmth, "And Westwind, aye, pleased ye could come. Your sister's not joined us yet; I assume she's sorting out how to arrange her sword belt over a gown."

Sintha regards Harvey with that catlike smile and a glint in her gaze, that I know something you don't know look of hers.

Alaisa blinks at Harvey, just once, with genuine surprise, and then she smiles - a real one, but carefully modulated down from a grin. She does not greet them, because she has not been introduced.

Avrenne catches the look from Alaisa's waiting; it's a small death knight world, she might have known them. "Lady Alaisa, may I introduce our ward Ralaea's fiance, Mr. Harvey Morningdew, and her brother, Mr. Brendol Westwind."

"Lovely to meet you both," Alaisa says.

"The pleasure is ours, Lady Alaisa," Harvey says, bowing again. If he recognizes her from the trial, he keeps it from coloring his expression.

Bren just stays bowed. This is fine. These people probably all outrank him anyway.

Isla looks positively thrilled to see both Harvey, and her dancing partner, Brendol. She moves forward fearlessly to both, and bobs an awkward, ill-balanced curtsey. "I'm so glad you both made it. Mr. Morningdew, wait until you see Rae. She's so lovely." She turns to Brendol, all bright eyes, her hands clasped to her chest. "I've been practicing so much, Bren. Thank you for coming. If not for you, I would have to dance mostly with Lee, and that's not very exciting at all. Are you excited?"

Finley says nothing, looking more sullenly towards the door, which remains closed.

Brendol straightens when Isla addresses him, and makes tentative eye contact. "Uh. Yeah, I'm… excited is certainly a… yes. I'll do my best."

Isla makes intense eye contact back, as if she can transfer her excitement to him through pure, unrestrained eye contact. "So will I!" she declares, in getting-too-close to a shout, holding out her hand to him for a shake as if they have now made a solemn vow in blood together.

Brendol glances at Harvey before reaching out a hand for Isla to shake.

Harvey ignores him. You're on your own, buddy, good luck.

Aze smiles in Bren's direction briefly, and does not interrupt Isla's enthusiasm.

Lena makes the usual kind of friendly greeting gestures towards Brendol.

Isla shakes Brendol's hand with a bizarre combination of enthusiasm and solemnity. She is Very Grown Up, and Shaking Hands with People! Oops she's still shaking his hand. She's still — Isla, let go. This isn't time to go for a world record of longest handshakes, Isla —

"Isla," Avrenne says, a caution and a reminder.

"Oh! Sorry, I'm sorry," Isla apologizes as she lets go of Brendol's hand, flushing with embarrassment, and then awkwardly patting her dress, and moving to stand near Sintha, fidgeting with her fingers.

Sintha takes one of Isla's hands cheerfully and swings it a little. What a jolly time we're having already!

Isla brightens back up immediately, embarrassment instantly swept back. Yes! Jolly, and holding hands! It's a very exciting day!

Bren, no longer sure what to do with his hand, stares at it for a moment, then sticks it in his pocket. Safe.

And then Ralaea appears at the top of the stairs, wearing a red tulle dress, her healed arms on full display and her hair in two loose braids tied with red ribbon, reminiscent of more peaceful days. She makes a face as she navigates the stairs in her dress shoes, ready to voice a complaint by the time she reaches the bottom.

Harvey, forgetting entirely to breathe, watches her descent in rapt silence, and when she finally stands before him, he loses all sense of social decorum, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Uh, Harvey?" Ralaea says, very conscious of the other people present.

He does not let go.

"Harvey!" she steps hard on his foot.

"Oh." He releases her and clears his throat. "My apologies. You look beautiful."

"Thanks, I guess…" Ralaea grumbles, her cheeks red.

Siamus is regarding Harvey with a coldly paternal smile. Yes, my daughter is very pretty. Unhand her, sir, his expression says. Aloud, he says, "Ralaea, ye look very well."

Avrenne watches with a cold, motherly stare, a twitch of her hand on Siamus' arm.

Isla is the oh gosh emoji once more, nearly as rapt as Harvey, eyes shining with romantic wish fulfillment. She has forgotten, or ceased to consider it, how she is not actually an audience member watching something, as she claps for them. "Oh, I just knew you would like it. Isn't she just perfect?"

Lena nods at Ralaea with a smile, and then more neutrally at the death knight who is marrying Rae.

Aszera turns towards Harvey with an amused smile, though her voice is perfectly polite. "Such a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Mourningdew." The 'u' might be in there or not, who can say.

Harvey resists the urge to touch one of Ralaea's braids as he responds to Isla, ignoring the cold stares. "She is more than perfect," he says. "Ms. Sunstrike. It is good to see you well."

Ralaea opens her mouth, then closes it again. How is she supposed to deal with open flirting? She crosses her arms.

"It's good to see you, too." Aze says lightly. You probably don't say a death knight is 'well'. She adds, "And at least you have the foot stomping dealt with before the dancing begins," Then she tenses a little and turns toward Rae. "Not that it's a problem if anyone steps on anyone's feet. I'm sure it'll be a casual, friendly dance."

Outside, another carriage pulls up, with only a minute or two to spare until 1:30pm, the time they were told to arrive. Colson is out first after the carriage is opened, and helps his husband down the steps. Colson's cobalt blue suit, crisp white shirt, and dark gold tie were made by Cressidha Aspenwood™️, and tailored exactly to him, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, the trimness of his waist. His expression is the same as it nearly always is, a neutral blankness that doesn't signify any particular emotion related to either excitement or nervousness or anything really. He holds Mordecai's hand in a familiarity beyond polite escort, as they approach the door, for him to knock just the once decisively, neither too loud or too quiet.

The first man of the day not wearing a suit is Mordecai, dressed in a white robe accented with gold. It has diamond-pattern embroidery and tiny white beads at the tips of the diamonds. The wind is trying to wreck his hair already, and he hasn't even been out of the carriage a full minute.

Vane opens the door at once to bow Colson and Mordecai in.

"Thank you," Mordecai mumbles to Vane. He steps inside with Colson and falls silent at the sight of so many people. His eyes go very wide as he looks directly at Harvey - shock, not fear. Nothing tasty.

Colson steps inside with no sign of unease at all the people in the foyer, although there's some mild surprise perhaps at Harvey, gently squeezing Mordecai's hand once in reassurance. He bows correctly to the hosts of the house, holding it a little longer than strictly necessary. "Your Grace. Admiral Fallon. Thank you for your invitation. Mother and father send their well wishes to you both."

Aze turns towards the door when the Aspenwoods enter, her smile turning into one of simple pleasure.

Lena nods politely to Colson and Mordecai.

Mordecai bows a moment after Colson does. That's right, he lives in a society, he's supposed to do these things.

"Gentlemen," says Siamus warmly. "Glad ye could join us. Miss Sunstrike's been looking forward. Welcome." He makes a gleaming survey of the pair. Probably he is an admirer of men's fashion or something.

Both Aze and Lena do the appropriate curtsies as usual.

"Cols — Lord Colson, Lord Mordecai," Ralaea corrects, somehow managing a curtsy. Look, she can do Manners.

Harvey greets the pair a moment after Ralaea, bowing as well. Bren has to remove his hand from his pocket to follow suit.

Shine bows courteously beside Lena, regarding the pair with a footman's bland gaze.

Avrenne acknowledges the Aspenwoods with a returning curtsey. There is neither gleam nor warmth in her gaze, but she is coolly polite. "Lord Colson. Lord Mordecai. We're delighted you could make it. May I introduce those you might not know, if I recall correctly, my wards Mr. Finley Boutille, and Miss Isla Lenaire."

Finley makes a good bow to both, proper and exacting.

Isla tries for another curtsey, and nearly falls over, gripping Sintha's hand tightly with a little oops.

Mordecai mumbles something like 'hello, everyone'.

"Gosh," enthuses Sintha. "Aren't the two of you a picture together." She makes a cheerful little bob that could be a curtsey or could just be that she kind of lost her balance for a minute there.

Mordecai does not seem to know how to react to being called a picture. He blushes and looks for somewhere to stand that isn't directly in front of the door.

Colson guides them over gracefully to a proper place to stand, as they await the signal to go into the ballroom.

Finley looks in vain (as opposed to Vane) at the door, a hunch to his shoulders as he tries to shrink down his height, a sullen scowl on his face, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Avrenne moves her head slightly, her eyes flicking to Finley.

Finley sighs, and with effort, uncrosses his arms again, forcing his features back to a tight, unconvincing pleasantness. This is his fault. He had one job. He failed. He also has no idea that it is only just now ticking to the near perfect second of 1:30pm. In five… four… three…

Alaisa looks at the door.

At the very second the clock ticks the 1:30 mark, Joelle, dressed in a pale, cream colored hakama over a navy blue kimono, knocks on the door. His hair is pinned up in something close to his usual style, but held with a metal pin, a matching navy blue flower dangling from it.

Vane opens the door courteously and ushers the guest in.

Siamus's brows go up appreciatively. "Ebek. A pleasure to see you." He gives Joelle a look that underlines this welcome.

Sintha turns to survey the new arrival with bright-eyed interest.

Aze turns towards the new arrival, polite with an edge of tension. She waits to see if we're curtseying and bowing again.

Lena looks to the door with a smile, recognizing the man from the play.

Alaisa gives Joelle a little wave and a small smile.

"Our hero has arrived!" declares Sintha cheerfully. "Gosh."

Finley's shoulders finally go down from their tight hunch, and he looks relieved, as he smiles at Joelle. Hey, buddy!

Avrenne maintains her same colder composure as she regards Joelle neutrally. "Mr. Ebek." She looks hale and hearty, at least, some very strategic boning and draping of her dress giving the illusion that she has not been pregnant recently. Instead of this primary identifier, she is instead an approximately 8 foot tall blonde woman, who is also somehow only coming up to her husband's shoulder in height.

Isla squeals loudly. "Oh, you're here!" She glances back and forth between Avrenne and Joelle. "That means everyone is here, and so we can start!" She leaves Sintha's side to rush over to Brendol, her dress bunching up against his legs as she misjudges the distance, her hand held up and flapping excitedly for his escorting arm. "Wait until you see it. It's a real party."

Aze smiles at Isla's enthusiasm and steps back, out of the way of those who might want to enter the ballroom. It is indeed time for the test party to begin. It has probably already begun.

Lena waits patiently for the cue to be given on what will happen next.

No one has moved towards the ballroom yet — that is waiting for Avrenne and Siamus to lead them in. "Lord Colson, Lord Mordecai, Miss Sunstrike, may I introduce a friend of the house, and guardsman of Stormwind City, Mr. Joelle Ebek. Mr. Ebek, Miss Aszera Sunstrike is a guest of the house, and offering instruction and demonstration of elven dances today."

Colson inclines his head politely to Joelle. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ebek."

"Hello," Mordecai mumbles. "I'm Mordecai." Wait, the scary rich woman just said that. "I mean– No, yes. Hello. I'm Mordecai."

Aze straightens at the address. Right, more introductions. She does a light curtsey, and says with a brief smile, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ebek."

Joelle's gaze drifts to Mordecai, his eyes soft. "Hello," he says. "I'm Mr. Joelle Ebek. You can call me Elle."

There, now he has repeated the scary rich woman too. He bows politely, and bows again towards Aze, a response to her own curtsey. Then, he approaches Avrenne and Siamus, offering them a small bag that had been tied around his wrist, hidden in his sleeve.

Mordecai smiles shyly at Elle. He has been given explicit nickname permission by the nice tall man. He bows automatically in return.

Siamus reaches for the bag obligingly, with a sidelong glance to Avrenne. "What's this, then?"

Avrenne raises both her brows because she cannot raise only one, as she waits for the answer to that question, one way or another.

Isla nearly vibrates into another state of existence, as she cranes her neck to try to see what's in the bag. What is it?! WHAT IS IT?! The anticipation is threatening to make her explode into a poof of sunshine confetti.

Alaisa looks at the bag with a perfectly reasonable amount of curiosity for a bystander to have.

"My family has a tradition that we present gifts when invited to someone's home," Joelle explains. He opens his mouth to add that Lathrik forbade such a practice at his own home due to the frequency of Joelle's visits, but he remembers at the last second that he is not talking to Finley, and falls silent instead.

Inside the bag are two carefully wrapped ornaments, one a long metal hairpin not unlike Joelle's own, and another on a shorter clip, a design made to attach to the pocket of a suit. Both are floral in design, made from maroon crystal, depicting a blooming Calycanthus flower.

After handing off the bag, Joelle moves to stand next to Finley. Duty accomplished.

Siamus opens the bag carefully to remove and unwrap the contents carefully. He displays them on his palm for Avrenne, and gazes at them wordlessly for a long moment.

He clears his throat. "Ebek, these are remarkable. Thank ye very kindly." He pauses. "Calycanthus." Full marks, lad.

Alaisa nods in silent approval. Another point in the 'Avrenne knows exactly which flowers she's wearing' basket. Her expression gives nothing away.

Avrenne's expression freezes at the sight of them, and she grips Siamus' arm hard, and there is something perhaps a little uncomfortably close to a pang of pain for Harvey, but it doesn't manifest into a full pain, only that grief tinged with nostalgia. She cannot seem to take her eyes off the hairpins, as small flickers of something move around her eyes and mouth. Tears are held back with the full force of her personality, not allowed to show at all except in the slightest sheen she cannot fully repress. Her lips move once or twice like she might say something, and she does not, as Siamus speaks, buying her more time.

After a too long moment to pass off an unemotional response, for all of her control, she reaches out her other hand to hover over them, fingertips barely touching the metal in the lightest way. She has to swallow before she can say anything.

"What a lovely surprise," she says, tearing her eyes from them to focus on Joelle. "A most gracious gift, indeed. Thank you, Mr. Ebek."

Joelle bows again, his eyes hidden with the action so that his expression appears neutral. "Thank you, for inviting me, Your Grace, Admiral," he says.

Siamus has looked up from the ornaments in his hand and is regarding Joelle with dark-eyed intensity. "We're very glad ye could join us. Delighted when Finley told us ye'd be here." He looks down at the gifts and then up at Joelle again, and nods once. The nod feels important, weighty somehow: a judgment rendered.

He begins carefully to tuck the items back into their bag.

Lena watches Avrenne's reaction to the gift, her expression giving nothing away.

Ralaea eyes Joelle suspiciously. What did you do? is etched across her face.

Isla s t r e t c h e s her neck to the fullest extent as she looks to see what's in Siamus' hand. It must be something very significant. …it's… hairpins? Of Callywhatsit? Isla doesn't get it, as she rests back on her feet. Gosh. She looks from person to person for clues of what this was all about, smiling uncertainly.

Finley is watching Avrenne carefully, a strange fervor in his expression until he remembers he can be observed, and he wipes it clean first into butler blankness before he picks up the pleasant gentleman and puts it on. "Did you make them, Elle?" he asks in a friendly tone, as he moves over to stand by his new friend, offering his arm up.

Siamus glances up again, his gaze sharpening with interest. Did he?

Aze has stepped back, impassive, and shows no sign of noticing anything.

Joelle shakes his head. "A family friend makes them," he reports.

Sintha is watching Joelle with bright eyes again but there is a slightly different, sharper quality to the brightness now.

Siamus nods. "Well. Ye must tell your friend they're beautiful. And a beautiful gift."

Avrenne holds her hand out for the bag. "I see. They will be treasured," Avrenne tells Joelle. "Now, shall we head in?" And away from things like Feelings and Sentiments. She is Ice and Unassailable.

Siamus passes the bag into Avrenne's care, gazing down at her for a moment, and then he glances up again to survey the group. "Aye, I believe we did promise ye 1:30, didn't we, Isla?"

Mordecai's fingers twitch. He does not check the time. That would be rude.

Isla nods vigorously. She has no idea what time it is, honestly. It could be anywhere between 1pm and 6pm.

Avrenne closes her hand over the bag, and begins the start of the sweep of movement towards the ballroom.

Colson starts to move as well, aware of the Social customs ranking of the room, to guide Mordecai into a smooth follow behind the hosts.

Finley waits for the place of precedence, as he leans closer to Joelle to say, low voiced, "Her Grace used to have a collection of hair pins like that, before the Fall. How did you know?"

Joelle blinks at Finley. "It's in her crest," he says as though this is common knowledge. "She had others? She doesn't now?" His gaze softens in sorrow.

Alaisa steps up to Sintha, offering her arm in escort.

Siamus escorts Avrenne toward the ballroom.

Sintha hooks her arm cheerfully into Lace's and tows her along after Colson and Mordecai.

"Sin'dorei dances are fun," Lace tells Sintha. "You'll pick them up quick, you're good at that."

"Brilliant," says Sintha. "Oh, this will be delightful. How absolutely bizarre of Shay, I couldn't miss it."

Finley waits for Sintha and Alaisa, and then guides him and Joelle into place. "Many things weren't replaced. Those were one of them. It was good of you."

Isla resembles an antsy horse at a starting gate, waiting for her turn, watching Rae and Harvey eagerly. Gogogogogogogogo.

"Shall we?" Harvey asks, offering Ralaea his arm.

Ralaea glares up at him, but takes it. She's not done being mad about the earlier embarrassment. They follow Finley and Joelle.

"Westwind," says Shine pleasantly as he leads Lena forward and then pauses. He inclines his head toward Isla. "Off ye go."

"Oh," Bren says, smiling automatically. Then, "Oh!" He hastily offers Isla his arm.

Isla seizes Brendol with an unexpected strength, and rushes towards the line. Wheeee! Party! She doesn't send them both crashing to the floor by only the barest margin of passing that balance check.

Shine falls in behind Brendol and Isla with Lena on his arm. He does not move at an Isla-like pace. As they approach Aze, he says, "Miss Sunstrike. Will you join us?"

Aze steps towards Shine and Lena, confused. "I'm last, though. I'm meant to be alone."

Shine smiles and shrugs a genial shoulder. "And we're next-to-last, so ye don't have to go alone unless ye please. The Fallons aren't over-lofty about the business, so long as ye don't try to precede Her Grace or one of the noble guests." He offers Aze his other arm. Can she tell?

There's a moment where Aze hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty on her face. Then she nods, and steps forward to take Shine's other arm.

He smiles down at her, though he has to cant his head at an odd angle to do it because she's on his blind side. She probably gets how that is.

And off they go after the rest.

Once the dancers enter the ballroom, the band looks attentively at the Lord and Lady Fallon, waiting for a cue.

Avrenne sweeps the room a look, noting what is different and that everything is in place. Once she is sure it is all as it should be, she nods. She makes a considering sound, and then tilts her head up to Siamus, stretching towards him with an intent to whisper something to him.

Siamus bends toward Avrenne, his expression mild. He does not acknowledge the band. This is not your cue.

Avrenne's voice is low, and her voice carefully pitched to not be overhead, and her expression carefully schooled. Whatever she whispers is inaudible to anyone but Siamus. She tilts her head back, and in a regular speaking voice, as if she has said nothing unusual or personal, asks, "Will that suit, Admiral?"

Siamus is silent for a long moment, his brows drawn together. At length he straightens and nods to her gravely. "Aye, Your Grace. I believe so."

He takes her hand from his arm and lifts it to kiss her knuckles lightly. "We shall see ye for tea later on."

Isla drags Brendol with her towards the center of the room, gesturing wildly with her other arm at everything. "Oh, look! Isn't it just the most perfect dancing room!" She has been in here many, many times. "It looks so much more exciting with everyone all set up and everyone in it!"

"It's… big," Bren says. "Which is… good. For dancing."

Finley glances over at Avrenne, a frown tilting his brows temporarily, before he gestures to Joelle for them to head towards where Isla and Brendol are.

Joelle follows Finley's lead dutifully.

Colson looks to Mordecai, asking him quietly, "Do you have a preference for where we will be?"

"On… the dance floor," Mordecai guesses, as if this is a multiple choice test and he doesn't know if there are secret options.

Colson nods. "Would you prefer to be nearer Aze?" Colson asks patiently.

Mordecai's mouth forms a silent 'oh' of recognition. "All right," he says. "It'll be easier to see if we are. But, um, it's not a big deal."

Harvey leads Ralaea to a place well away from dancers he suspects might be inexperienced. Like Joelle. He doesn't know a thing about Joelle. And Isla, but for different reasons. Good luck, Bren.

Sintha, meanwhile, releases Lace's arm to spin airily out onto the floor, her skirts flowing around her, and then executes a merry little skip-step.

Avrenne gives Siamus a nod, and then encompasses the dancers in a broad look. "You will excuse me, I have some business to attend to. Do enjoy the afternoon." With that, she sweeps out of the room.

Colson guides him and Mordecai onto the center of the dance floor where the others have started to form up, watching for Aze to readjust their position as needed.

Isla twirls her dress expectantly, and then looks at Brendol as if suddenly realizing there is probably an important thing she should ask him. "Oh, do you know how to dance, Bren? Avrenne said that it will start with the galop, which I adore. It's so much fun. You get to skip along everywhere."

"I uh… no," Bren admits. "I became Harvey's retainer after everything… happened, so I only ever… I'm good with a sword, though."

"Oh, I've never taught anyone a dance," Isla tells Brendol, all sparkling eyes and eagerness. "But I have been taught them, and I'm sure I can pass it on to you. So, the galop is all about the chasse, but you use it in a very spirited way, sliding along. Oh, your right hand goes on my waist, and my right hand goes to your left, because you're the lead. And it's in 2/4 time, which is not at all the same as 3/4 time like the waltz." These are very clear instructions given helpfully in order, surely. "Oh, and there's a hop sometimes, but mostly we want the glissade gliding." She really has definitely never taught someone how to dance.

Bren stares at her, then glances waaaay over at where Harvey is explaining something to Ralaea. S…save him. Please.

Shine has released Aze politely to move aside with Lena.

Siamus ambles in Aze's direction as well to collect his partner, but pauses when Mordecai approaches her and waits courteously, surveying the rest of the group with that faint, slanted smile of his.

Mordecai exhales once Avrenne is gone. "Oh. Aze," he says, and lets go of Colson's hand. He actually leaves Colson's side to go give Aze a hug. "It's really good to see you. You're teaching everyone today?"

Aze nods her thanks to Shine and Lena, and then steps over to return Mordecai's hug, smiling with warmth. "You too. And yes, but not for the whole party. These first ones, I'm learning, too. If I might get to stick around, you know, the Alliance, it'll be good to know the local dances, right?"

Mordecai smiles at her. "Mmhm," he says, and then notices Siamus. "Oh, sorry, um." He releases Aze and backs off quickly.

Siamus arches a brow at Mordecai and smiles more genuinely. "No, please. There's no hurry, and I'm glad Miss Sunstrike's friends have come." He takes a courteous step back himself.

Aze doesn't turn towards Siamus, but she does smile at his approach. To Mordecai, she says, "I'm looking forward to seeing how you and Colson dance today."

Colson inclines his head to Aze. "We have been enjoying the amar'uel," he says politely.

"We've gotten better," Mordecai says, ducking his head with a shy smile in response to Siamus. He backs towards Colson regardless, holding out a hand.

Colson takes it immediately, without looking, stepping closer to Mordecai.

Finley loses the battle with not rolling his eyes at Isla. "Isla, don't be like that, you'll confuse him." He smiles wryly at Bren. "Don't worry, I’ll be explaining and demonstrating all the Alliance ones, making sure Miss Sunstrike knows them, and I can help you if you don't get it just by watching. I paid attention when Her Grace gave the lessons."

Isla stamps her foot, luckily not on Brendol, all sudden fury. "I did too! I was listening! Those are all parts of the dance."

"Out of order and he doesn't know the words, Isla. 'Glissade' and 'chasse' mean nothing to him, probably," Finley counters, in a bickering tone.

As Mordecai seems disinclined to continue the hugging, Siamus moves to Aze's side and puts his hand lightly on the small of her back. "Miss Sunstrike told me she'd taught the pair of ye," he says to the Aspenwoods. "I've not yet seen her dance, myself, but I've been looking forward to it."

He glances toward the bickering tone and his brows draw together. Children, Her Grace isn't here; don't make him use the Officer Voice.

Joelle puts a reassuring hand on Finley's shoulder. He looks, to those who know the look, like he wants to pat Isla's hair, but is conflicted about messing it up.

"I'm sure… I can probably figure it out," Bren says with a nervous laugh.

Isla abandons her rage for a beaming smile to Bren. "Right! We'll be a good team, we promised to do our best. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Finley pulls his gentlemanly persona on harder and tighter, fastening the locks, as he deliberately turns his attention from Isla and Brendol to Joelle. "Did you learn the galop as part of your lessons? It's a very simple one."

Joelle shakes his head again, his hairpin creating a faint jingling sound. "No, but I will follow your lead."

"Aze is an excellent dancer," says Alaisa of all people. Why does she know that? Who knows.

Colson's brows raise fractionally in mild surprise, but he nods. "Yes, she is," he agrees.

Siamus smiles at Alaisa and inclines his head courteously. Sintha spins back in Lace's direction. "Oh! You've seen her dance?"

"I have," Lace says. "Ban'dalare. It's got very fast footwork."

Siamus looks down at Aze beside him. "And will we see that one today?"

Aze leans just so slightly into Siamus's hand, and smiles at Mordecai, Colson, Alaisa and Sintha. "I wasn't planning on it, but then again, I could be spontaneous." Spontaneous is kind of her specialty. "Though I don't know if the band would appreciate it. I'm happy to hear I've impressed - and I'm looking forward to seeing your and Colson's amar'uel, Mordecai."

Colson smiles faintly at Aze.

"I'll do my best to make it easy for you," Finley says to Joelle. He looks over towards the others, waiting for a sense of a pause enough to speak. "If we're all ready, I can start with the explanations of the dances we have on for today. The Alliance ones, I mean."

Aze turns attentively to the dance teacher, eager to learn.

Sintha does another spin and hooks her arm back into Lace's, then makes a wide-eyed, innocently serious Attentive Schoolgirl face at Finley.

Shine, waiting off to the side with Lena, drops his gaze to her and arches a brow, smiling ruefully. "Are we all ready?" he asks her under his breath.

"I think so," Lena says, looking up at him with a faint smile. "I know some of these. And I apologize in advance if I step on your feet."

Shine's smile widens. He takes Lena's hand from his arm and lifts it to kiss lightly. "That's my job," he informs her.

Mordecai smiles shyly and returns to his place with Colson so that they're more evenly spaced out.

Aze murmurs up to Siamus, low enough that only he can hear, "We're not calling mine Horde dances. They aren't. They pre-date."

He turns his head to nod down at her and says low-voiced, "Elven dances, then."

Elven dances, that's the Avrenne PR branding of them, a carefully chosen word to neither be quel or sin. And definitely not Horde.

Finley tries not to look bothered that everyone is going to be staring at him, and manages it three-quarters of the way at least. He steps farther back from Joelle with a flicker on, flicker off smile and says, "The first dance is the galop. It's not Lordaeron specific, and just about everyone has it in theirs, of the human kingdoms. It's the simplest of them all, and a good warm up dance. Couple of words to know if you don't are what a chassé is, and what am 'open' or 'closed position' means, for later when we get to some more complicated ones. I'll demonstrate, and explain."

And so he does. Finley method of teaching is to first say the word, give some context to the word (chassé meaning 'to chase') with an offered mnemonic to remember it ('because one foot will be 'chasing' the other across, not quite touching'), then demonstrate slowly, then do it again faster, do it again slower as he breaks the movement down a bit finer, repeat the wording, and then give a quicker back and forth demonstration. He does one part of a time, first the feet, then the arm positioning, then finally the positioning with a partner of what an 'open' or 'closed position' means — that is, how close you stand to a partner. The galop is usually closed, particularly because it's so fast, that it's a bit easier to balance and sync up speed with a partner.

The galop is, as promised, a simple one. Anyone who has done most other dances like the allemande certainly would find it very familiar.

When he's done with the explanation and demonstration, he returns to Joelle to offer up himself as lead, and a little practice before the musicians have any cue to start the music.

"I know this," Mordecai whispers to Colson, deeply relieved.

Colson smiles gently at Mordecai, and inclines his head in agreement. "Would you like to do a few to warm up?" Colson avoids the word practice. There was at least no flinch when Finley used it casually in his explanation, but the paladin does not say it.

"All right." Mordecai smiles at him. "Would you like to lead for now?"

"If you would like," Colson says. "But I would be happy to follow for now, if you would enjoy the lead."

"You go ahead," Mordecai says. "We can switch later."

Colson takes the lead easily, and guides them gracefully into a few of the steps, at the pace of the most standard of all Galops, a Rule of thumb, at the least.

Lace steps closer to Sintha, placing a hand carefully on her lower back, where there is still fabric. "Time to be horses," she says with mock seriousness.

Sintha does a very, very quiet whinny under her breath, and skips her feet around in place without yet moving her upper body.

Lace is startled into a real laugh. She stomps her feet on the ballroom floor very precisely, like a horse.

Isla bounces excitedly in front of Brendol. "See, you can just follow my example with my feet!" she tells him. He… he cannot see her feet. Isla, you're wearing a full length dress. "Chassé, chasey chasey." She holds out her hands for his, ready to swish the two of them back and forth in a little practice leaping.

Brendol stares at the bottom of Isla's dress. Maybe there's some foot watching trick he's missing. No, no he really can't see them. He flashes her a nervous smile and takes her hands.

Isla eagerly sets them do several chasse glides. She's not the most graceful of people, but for all of that, she does know the steps, and she is doing them correctly. Her attention being split between trying to match Brendol and telling her legs to match it might be the highest challenge.

Bren is far from graceful himself, and syncing with Isla seems to be a particular problem for him. Maybe music will fix it.

Siamus turns to Aze, wearing his ironic Ballroom Smile. "I expect that one's not a challenge for ye. Not that I expect any of them will be." He bows slightly and offers her his hand to take up position.

Aze was very focused on the demonstration, perhaps more than might be merited by such a simple dance. Then she turns to Siamus with a smile and a curtsey, and takes his hands. "I'll want to remember them, for the future. I like this one - seems like it gives a lot of energy. Shall we?"

Shine takes up dance position with Lena and says to her under his breath. "I'm too old for this. I'll be winded after two minutes."

Shine is very fit. He is not going to be winded.

Lena laughs and offers him her hands. "We have two hours to hold out. Let's pace ourselves."

Joelle studies each movement carefully, committing particularly the timings to memory. He is not at all shy about practicing.

Finley guides him and Joelle smoothly in a beat of time. His own timing isn't perfect without music playing, but what he's far better at is watching his partner, and syncing them up.

Joelle doesn't say anything regarding the timing, seeming content to follow however Finley leads. From the warm sparkle in his eyes, it's clear he's already having fun.

Harvey wastes no time securing Ralaea in a closed position. Whether or not she understands, he is Ready.

Lena's eye is drawn over towards Rae and Harvey for a moment, and she frowns slightly before she turns back to Shine.

Shine raises his eyebrow at Lena in silent inquiry as he moves her into a practice series of steps. They are slower than the dance will call for; he really is practicing.

Lena shakes her head. "I worry about Rae sometimes. She'll be fine."

Aze smiles up at Siamus, following the galloping footwork. "Everyone's doing well, aren't they? And Mourn is as bossy as ever."

"Is he? Bossy?" Siamus glances over at Harvey with a touch of disapproval himself. He is moving through practice footwork easily and without much attention; he really does know the dances. His fluency in the movement seems more rote than aesthetic.

Aze is starting to put in a little bit more glide to the steps, finding her way towards something more like a graceful horse prance. "Mm. In my experience. Likes to be in charge of people, tell them what to do. Maybe it'll work out here, if he's good enough at dancing."

Siamus casts another disapproving glance at Harvey. Imagine being a guy who likes to be in charge of people? Couldn't be him.

Finley takes a look over the dance floor. With his height, it's even easier for him to see and gauge what's happening, and his evaluation of people is practiced. He nods to himself before he glides Joelle to a temporary start. "Well then, I think we've got the gist well enough to try with music. Admiral, if you'll give the signal."

Siamus turns to the band and nods. Let's do this, folks.

Isla grins at Brendol, shaking his arms a little too like an eager, inexperienced rider whipping the reins up and down. Yaaaaaay! Giddy up!

Colson gently comes to a stop and waits for the music to start.

Lace tosses her hair the way horses toss their heads sometimes. It turns out she has been wearing earrings after all - simple pearl studs. Her hair just covers them most of the time.

Sintha flashes Lace a smile. "Our jewelry matches as well," she observes brightly.

Lace grins back.

Harvey sets his runesword well aside, but not without a wary hesitation. "Ralaea," he says. "Will you…?"

"Help keep an eye on it? Yeah," Ralaea says. "But I don't think it'll go anywhere. It's not like anyone here would steal it." Says the one person who has stolen it before.

First Dance: The Galop

The band at last strikes up the music, and it's a banger from Lordaeron's heyday. There's brass! There's a drum! The music is rousing. The strings soar up and down with a thrilling sort of energy. The brass booms. The drums strike. The whole of it encourages the dancers to a quick beat around the room. It pushes them along. It builds and builds, and holds up at the top until it creates a new plateau of surging sound for a grand last circling through the room.

In these three minutes, the music does much to add to the simple dance, offering opportunities for the more adventurous and better dancers to toss in hops, hesitations, half turns and full turns, leaping twirls, flourishes with hands and head. The more inexperienced or timid have at least the enjoyment of the variety within the song.

Aze reaches for Siamus. She is ready to skip around the room like a graceful pony.

Lena turns to Shine with a question in her eyes. Is he ready?

Lace is here to have a good time (and maybe to pretend to be a horse during the galop), and the moment the music kicks off she takes off with Sintha. She has the spatial awareness necessary to weave around anyone who is slower to start.

Isla is ready to skip around the room like a colt leaping through on wobbly wibble legs in a field. Is she good at this? No. Is she having a fantastic time? Yes. She's not really fully on beat with the music, but she's got the spirit. "You can do it, Bren," she tells her partner encouragingly. "Just skip glide skip glide. Chasey chasey." She's speaking very loudly, easily heard over the music by those couples closer to them.

Bren is doing his best to keep up, mumbling "Skip, glide," to himself as he goes. His hands might be a little sweaty.

Colson is a graceful dancer, and a fit man. The galop is an enjoyable warm up, and his smile is noticeable as he watches Mordecai, paying little attention to the rest, except for gauging proximity to keep them centered between two other couples as they go through the room. "It is a shame we cannot line a room with magical cloth and create a larger arcane space to have an entire ballroom tucked into the side of a smaller house," he says to Mordecai, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Mordecai laughs, delighted by the thought. "Give your sister a couple years and some very expensive magical fabric and maybe one day we can."

Colson's face softens in delight at the sound of Mordecai's laugh. He is within the limits of Polite Society closeness for a dance, but far more so than he'd be with any other.

Finley's eyes dart around at those new to the dance, and he seems tense, like a man who senses someone hovering off to the side grading him on his instructions. He jerks his attention back to his dance partner, still able to talk easily through the exertion, but it causes the redness of his complexion around his cheekbones to be more pronounced. "You've picked it up quickly. You've a natural knack. You look good. I meant to say before. It's not hard to dance in that, is it?"

"I'm used to moving in it," Joelle assures Finley. "Thank you. You're a good teacher. People look like they're having fun."

Finley's flush intensifies, and he gives a self-conscious exhale of a short laugh. "I had a good teacher. I'm mostly mimicking just as she taught it. Her Grace taught us all, the wards. She didn't want the dances lost, more than anything." Okay, now he's getting a bit out of breath from the speed and the talking, still able to keep up the conversation, but his breathing is louder and heavier for it. A bit of sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Siamus leads Aze smoothly around the ballroom. Graceful hjorses. Well, Aze is graceful, Siamus is well-practiced. He does, she may note as they move further into the dance, seem to pick up a little effort at Grace in response to her own. He is not incapable of Grace; it just sort of seems like it hasn't really occurred to him to try it in this context before.

Aze does seem to note the grace, and she meets it by adding in an occasional half-step or flourish. She shifts in closer than strictly necessary for the dance, but does not seem in any danger of collision. She doesn't seem out of breath yet as she says, "A very… exuberant dance. I bet Isla's enjoying it."

Siamus laughs at Aze's remark. "Exuberant is a fine word for Isla." He scans the dance floor to check for her — although there have been no catastrophic crashing noises — and then his other wards before looking back down to smile at Aze again. "And you are an exceptional partner. I'll have to keep up."

Shine misses his footing a couple of times early on now that they are doing fast-paced, but the music seems to be a helpful guide, and he, too, warms into it after a bit. He is neither particularly graceful or practiced, but he is doing his passable best. He's a good boy, Bront.

Lena has more enthusiasm than grace at this dance, but her smile and occasional laughter show that she's enjoying herself.

Shine is grinning back at Lena; he does not have attention to spare for anyone else in the ballroom.

Sintha gallops along like an elegant Tirasian.

Harvey manages to keep Ralaea a safe distance from other dancers. He makes one murmured comment that earns a sharp response from her, but by the end, both have relaxed and seem to be enjoying themselves.

The music strikes one last true flourish, and then comes to an end.

Between Galop and Schottische

Finley starts catching his breath back, letting go of Joelle again as he moves to where he can see everyone a bit better, evaluating if a pause should be taken before he starts in on the next one.

Joelle is not winded at all, looking like they have simply taken a casual stroll through a garden. What must he do in his own personal exercise routine to remain so composed?

Isla abruptly stops as the music ends, and lets go of Brendol. She is pink cheeked and glowing as she looks around the room. Did everyone see her be a horse? She was a good horse. She frolicked and she didn't trip and or tumble to the ground with her partner. Her first dance at her first dance party! She doesn't even wait for someone to speak up as she asks Sintha, "Oh, did you see me? I did it! I've never done that one outside of practicing before, and I didn't fall or maim Bren at all!"

Bren takes a step back as the word 'maim' is used. Maiming was a possibility? Nobody told him!

Sintha does a little twirl, apropos of nothing, as the music ends, and curtsies to Lace. She turns to Isla. "Gosh, darling, you were perfect. A very Tirasian horse. And I'm sure Brendol is delighted not to have been maimed!" She beams at Brendol. The gleam in her gaze is a little menacing. Tell Isla how delighted you are, sir.

Alaisa grins at Isla. "Us horses should all drink some water before the next dance," she suggests, and then neighs very realistically. Who let a horse into the ballroom?

Sintha laughs, delighted.

Isla laughs and neighs back to Alaisa. It isn't realistic at all, but it's embraced for its silliness, as she forgets about wanting to appear very grown up.

Alaisa gives Isla a nod of approval, dips a belated end-of-dance curtsy to Sintha, and pretend-gallops by herself towards the table with the water, clicking her tongue like hoof noises as she goes.

Sintha laughs again at Alaisa and offers Isla her hand. Stealin ur girl, Brendol. "Come on," she says. "I want lemonade."

Colson glides Mordecai to a slower stop, rather than an abrupt one, not letting go yet of his advantageous, publically allowed closed hold position on his husband. "Would you like to remain on the floor, or would you like to get some water before the next one?" he asks softly.

Mordecai catches his breath. "Let's," and he nods towards the refreshments table. He seems very distracted and confused by the fact that he cannot locate the horse.

Colson raises his brows slightly, glancing over where Mordecai is looking, and then back at Mordecai's face as if he's trying to differentiate between subtle shades of indigo and navy blue. "Are you looking for something, darling?" he asks after a moment.

Mordecai shakes his head. "Nothing important. I'm thirsty. Come on."

Colson lets Mordecai paladin tugboat him over to the table.

Siamus brings Aze to a graceful halt, and steps back to offer a half-bow, lifting her hand for a kiss. His gaze is a little wicked. Aze cannot see it but perhaps she senses the Vibe.

Aze steps back with a half-curtsey, then takes one hand to smooth the fabric on her bodice as she lets Siamus raise her hand for a kiss. Either she senses the vibe, or she has the same sense of dancing is for flirting. Then she seems to notice the movement towards the refreshment table. "Would you like some water? Whiskey?"

"Whiskey," agrees Siamus, and puts his hand on Aze's lower back again to escort her toward the refreshments. Lower-voiced, he confides, "Did I say already that ye look exquisite?"

"Thank you," Aze says brightly, and adds, "You look lovely yourself, as usual." If there is any deeper meaning in that comment, she makes no sign of it. Then she adds, reluctantly, "I should probably… water. Since I'm teaching later."

She lets Siamus guide her over to the cluster at the refreshment table.

Shine stops with something that may be relief, and grins at Lena again. "Wait till we get to the waltz," he tells her low-voiced. "We're good at that one." If there is an insinuation there, it isn't apparent in his expression. But it does feel kind of insinuatey.

Lena is breathing hard, and that's absolutely the reason for the flush on her cheeks. Probably not the insinuation. She looks at him, widening her eyes in innocence, and asks, "Think we've practiced that one enough?"

Shine tips his head in thought. "I believe we're fair good at it. But continuing practice never hurts."

Isla seizes Sintha's hand, almost dragging them both down when she loses her sense of space between them, her poofy skirt crashing into Sintha's legs. "It's the Lordaeron type, which I adore. Finley says I used to try to sneak some when I was little out of the kitchens, but I don't remember it at all, and he might be just making up stories." She shoots a glare at Finley, and then is all smiles to Brendol. "I've never maimed anyone before, but I do sometimes fall, but I didn't."

Finley's face twitches, and he grits his teeth against saying anything. It's fine, he can leave it. He can — he leans closer to Joelle to tell him, "I was not making up stories. She really did. She'd hide under the main table and wait for the staff to put the glasses on the table. Then get up and take one when they stepped away."

Joelle's responding smile faintly reaches his lips. "I believe you," he says.

The phrase gets Finley's hackles back down, a release of tension in his jaw, and he exhales a soft laugh. He gestures with his head towards the drinks. "Are you thirsty at all? The drinks are free and you can have as many as you'd like, when you'd like."

"It's better to drink before you're thirsty, to stay hydrated," Joelle says. "So I should drink something. There will be a lot of exercising."

Finley makes a gesture more reminiscent of a servant than a gentleman. "That's good to know, about the hydrating. Do you have a drink in particular you're fond of besides water?"

"Cherry grog," Joelle says. A long pause follows. "And tea. But water is best for exercising."

The attending footmen and maids pour drinks quickly and efficiently for those approaching, watching for who goes towards which pitcher, anticipating a need.

Alaisa collects a glass of ice water for herself and settles down in the very middle seat of a row of seven chairs to sip at it.

Isla reaches for her lemonade just in time for Finley to make it to the same table, and grab it before she does. "Lee!" she near shouts.

Finley attempts a patient tone, but it comes out a bit condescending. "Let me carry it for you until you sit. We don't need a spill today, Isla."

Isla pouts furiously, but there's embarrassment in it as well, and she wilts with a huff, swishing over to the nearest chair and plopping down into it so hard it tips to the side for a moment. She windmills her arms — a demonstration in action why she should not be carrying drinks herself — and gets it back on all four feet. She holds up a demanding hand for her lemonade.

Finley carefully puts it into her grasp, before he turns back to the table to get some water with his new hydrating pal Elle. "Cherry grog's not one I'm much familiar with. Sounds like it'd be sweet, like a cordial."

Isla sulks as she sips. Then she turns a bright look on Alaisa, as she remembers the neighing. "Oh, how did you learn how to do that? You sounded just like a horse, I could have sworn one was in the ballroom. There has been one before. Avrenne said that Sintha had a pony in here once, during the Charity Gala in Year 27."

"I absolutely did," Sintha confirms conspiratorially. "Lace saw it. It's Her Grace's pony now — Greygale!"

Siamus/Aze/Mordecai/Colson

"Gentlemen," Siamus greets the Aspenwoods again with a smile. He nods toward a pitcher of water, and the footman obligingly pours a glass and offers it to Aszera. He knows a glass of water is not for the Admiral. Moirin has already poured a whiskey for the Admiral, and he accepts it with a nod to her.

"Hello," Mordecai says to Siamus, actually audible. He takes a big gulp of water and then holds his glass against his forehead.

Aze accepts the water and takes a sip, then turns to smile at Mordecai.

Siamus's smile widens. "Hot work, aye?" He himself does not appear ever to have perspired in his life. (This is false.)

He gestures with his glass to Mordecai. "While I have ye here, how d'ye prefer to be addressed? Is it 'Chaplain'? 'Lord Mordecai'?" He tips his head expectantly.

Colson inclines his head to Siamus in greeting as he obligingly takes up a glass of plain water himself, sipping it. At the question, he looks to Mordecai for a decision.

Mordecai nods sheepishly and gives Aze a little wave. "Um, just Mordecai is fine," he says. "Chaplain is - is fine too if it's relevant, but it… generally isn't in ballrooms, just at the Cathedral and… um, you know, if I'm acting as one. Or. Um." He looks at Colson for confirmation that he got that right.

Colson smiles back at Mordecai; it's an obvious smile, even for the stoic faced paladin. You always get it right to him, Mordecai. He looks to Siamus.

Siamus nods thoughtfully, as though first names are a foreign custom but he is intrigued by this cultural interchange.

He has a sip of his drink and turns his gaze to Colson. "And yourself? Something other than 'Aspenwood'?" He pauses and then adds, with a tilted eyebrow. "Silentstep once called ye 'Cole' to me."

It is clear that Siamus has no intention of doing this himself; he still pronounces the word like it's baffling and possibly a little scandalous, and maybe he is waiting courteously to see whether Colson thinks so too. Is Colson aware that people call him 'Cole'?

Aze returns Mordecai's little wave and then listens to the interchange with amused interest. "Sil does like nicknames," she observes, using his nickname.

Colson nods. These are true statements. "'Colson' is fine, if you have no preference otherwise. I am called so generally in Cobalt Company, and I am accustomed to the familiarity. Several of my friends, and my brother Bertrand, call me 'Cole.' I have always been fond of that one for those who prefer a nickname."

"'Colson,'" repeats Siamus, as though he has just learned that Colson has a first name. "As ye like, 'Colson.'" (He does sort of pronounce it like there are quotation marks around it.)

Mordecai, finally, remembers to return the question. "What would you? Like to be called?" he asks Siamus.

Siamus turns to Mordecai, and looks faintly startled. What a weird question. He's silent for a moment, thinking about it, and then clearly decides this calls for friendly social parity. "Ye can call me… Siamus." He pronounces his own first name like it's a little foreign too.

Shine, his best friend of sixteen years who addresses him as 'Fallon,' casts him a slow-eyebrow look.

Aze turns towards Siamus as well, with mild curiosity. Is this another attempt?

Mordecai blinks at Siamus. "Is… that actually what you prefer?" he asks so very casually, giving Siamus an immediate out.

Siamus knits his brows. After a moment, he breaks into a rueful smile. "If I'm honest, I go by 'Fallon' or 'Admiral' as a rule. It's 'Fallon' to friends, though." He salutes Mordecai with his glass.

Mordecai gives him a genuine smile in return and raises his water glass, then drinks some more water.

Colson smiles at Siamus, faintly, more around his eyes than his lips. Colson it is! "Perhaps we might call you Fallon, then," he says, and his voice is warmer and softer, more easily read as pleased than the expression on his face. Friendship, perhaps?

"I'd be very glad if ye did," says Siamus, still smiling, and inclines his head to Colson.

See, Aze? Just friendly. For now.

Shine looks relieved.

Mordecai tries to neaten out his hair a little, without a mirror or a comb. It's a bit of a lost cause. He drains his water glass and sets it on the edge of the table. "I used to hate being called Harbrooke, back when I was an army chaplain," Mordecai says quietly. "Because I shared it with my brothers. And I'd be happy to be called Aspenwood now, too, but there's two of us here, so it would get confusing. I-I do prefer Mordecai. Though."

Alaisa/Isla/Sintha/Finley/Elle

Alaisa taps her fingers on the side of her glass and turns to Isla. "The secret," she explains, "is that I spent a great deal of time as a child making noises. Copying sounds I heard until I could get them just right. My father couldn't stand it, and it can get annoying to bystanders so it's best to practice in private, but I can make all sorts of sounds now."

Isla is chagrined at the knowledge that Alaisa's father didn't approve, but she perks up immediately. "Can you make little sounds like birds? I used to try to talk to them, and sing back at them, but I don't think I ever managed it. They would come back though, enough of them enough times that I was able to name them. We left them behind when we moved from the old house, and it was… in the Park District, so…" She trails off, suddenly saddened and morose at the thought of what might have happened to the birds she used to sing for.

"Yes, of course," Alaisa says, and attempts to immediately distract her by making bird noises. Birds that might be found in the Park District, to be precise - Alaisa's been there enough.

Who let the birds into the ballroom?

Siamus/Aze/Mordecai/Colson

"People call me Sunstrike sometimes," Aze nods. "Or Miss Sunstrike. I think it's… kind of nice, to hear my family name? But also Aszera feels more me, or Aze."

Siamus studies Mordecai more seriously. After a moment, he nods. "I don't believe I knew your family," he observes equably. And then he adds, "But I heard," in a slightly gentler tone. "'Mordecai' it is, and I'm glad to call you it."

Siamus glances down at Aze — Aszera, Miss Sunstrike — and smiles warmly. And then looks up and around, startled. Did… birds get in?

Mordecai smiles, shy, and ducks his head.

"Probably Ally," Aze says casually. "Wouldn't surprise me if she speaks bird."

Isla/Alaisa/Finley/Elle

Sintha, who has been standing before Alaisa and Isla's chairs, swaying absently with a glass of lemonade in hand, laughs delightedly. "She's brilliant," she tells Isla. "Honestly."

Finley's attention goes to Isla, watching, and waiting.

But, Isla is immediately distracted by the bird mimicry, and delighted obviously by it, as she starts to clap appreciatively at Alaisa. Unfortunately, Isla is holding a lemonade glass. She has forgotten about it.

Finley has not, and he plucks it out of her hand just in time before she tries to clap into it, only a small slosh of the liquid making it over the side to bead over the glass. "Isla," he scolds in exasperation.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I forgot I had it," Isla says. She claps, more subdued.

Alaisa's hand darts out, but Finley is closer and faster, and she simply returns her hands to holding the glass in her lap. Lace, as much as she would vastly prefer not to, blushes at the compliment.

Finley's attention shifts from Isla to Alaisa, and then a glance at Sintha, with the look of a man starting to do some gut feelings about things before he schools himself to look at Elle, who is probably the safest person to be looking at now.

Siamus/Aze/Mordecai/Colson

Siamus looks blankly at Aze. Who is Ally, now? Goddammit.

Aze is not great at noticing blank looks.

Siamus finishes his drink and sets the glass on the table's edge. He looks up at the two Aspenwoods again and makes a gleaming survey. "Mordecai, may I have the next one?" After a pause he adds, "And aye, see, you're right. If I'd said 'Aspenwood' there that might have been confusing. Ye might have thought I'd been asking for the both of ye."

An innocent observation. Siamus has never been more serious or more innocent in his life.

Colson again looks to Mordecai for his husband's decision.

"Oh!" Mordecai looks at Colson and tilts his head. He's not asking for permission, he's just checking in, it seems. When Colson has the expected reaction, Mordecai turns to Siamus and says bravely, "All right. But I might not know it. Which dance is next?"

"It's the schottische," Siamus says. "If ye don't know it, ye'll have it inside a minute, I promise."

"I don't, but if it's as simple as you say, I-I believe you," Mordecai says to Siamus.

Siamus smiles warmly at him. "I wouldn't steer ye wrong," he promises.

Colson turns his attention to Aze, as he sets his water glass down, his pinky cushioning the setting so that it makes no sound at all over the tablecloth. "Would you like to dance with me, or with someone else, Aze?" Colson asks her. "I will not take any offense if you wish to find another. I have had the privilege of dancing with you before already."

"No, it'll be nice to dance with a friend," Aze says, flashing a smile and reaching out for his hand. "I don't know some of the people here. Which, I know, is probably part of the point, people I should know - I'll need to dance with some of them eventually. Like Lady Sintha, the Admiral's sister. But for now, I would be delighted to dance with you, Colson."

Shine finishes his water and sets his glass aside. To Lena he murmurs confidentially, "If you don't mind, I'll take ye back out on the floor before anyone else thinks to snatch you up."

Lena smiles, setting her own water aside. "I'm all yours."

Siamus offers Mordecai his arm with ironic gallantry. His smile is still genuine, though.

Shine is already moving back out onto the dance floor with Lena.

Mordecai touches Colson's shoulder once, smiles at him, and then pulls away to take Siamus' arm.

Colson smiles back, his hand brushing Mordecai's shoulder as he pulls away, and then offers his arm to Aze. "I have done this one before. It is not much more complicated than the galop, but there is far more room for adding in flourishes if you would like. It's 4/4 time, like the amar'uel."

"It sounds perfect," Aze says, taking his arm without hesitation. "But flourishes or not, I'll follow your lead. Like Telaar, this is not a competition."

Finley, noticing the couples starting to move back out to the dance floor, sets Isla's lemonade glass down out on the nearby table, and starts that way himself, not yet picking a partner for the next one, more concerned at being considered being late to his job.

Isla gets up from her chair, poofing her dresses up and down. "The Schottische is next! I adore this one. It's so much fun." She looks at her partner options.

Lace says to Sintha, "I shouldn't monopolize all your time today. Will you save the elven dances for me?"

Sintha curtseys in a flourish of velvet skirts. "Absolutely."

Lace grins at Sintha. "I've a mind to ask the most enthusiastic young lady at this gathering for this one." She rises, offering a hand out gallantly to Isla. "Isla, might I have this dance?"

Sintha beams at the pair of them and nods encouragingly at Isla. She probably does not have to encourage.

Then she turns immediately to make a narrow-eyed, smiling survey of the room. Finley is standing alone. Oh ho ho.

Isla goes so starry eyed, it's amazing that they don't leap out and dance around her head. It's happening!! IT'S HAPPENING. SHE IS BEING ASKED TO DANCE! FOR THE FIRST TIME! "Yes!" she shouts at Alaisa, grabbing her hand too hard and too tightly. "Oh, I've never been asked to dance before. It's like getting flowers for the first time."

Alaisa laughs warmly and leads Isla out onto the dance floor. "Oh, am I your first? That's a very exciting privilege. The schottische is so fun, isn't it?"

"Finley," Sintha singsongs, and sashays in his direction, already holding a hand out in expectation of his accepting it.

Finley doesn't gulp, because he's a grown man, and this is his… sort of aunt. He's not scared of her or anything. She's only more skilled at everything he's learning how to do and he's trying to fill the shoes she left behind when she joined the 7th Legion, ha ha any way. Pop quiz time. He bolts down his pleasant gentleman persona, and girds his metaphorical loins as he sweeps Sintha a shallow bow, and reaches out for her hand smoothly.

"I would be delighted if you would dance this one with me." His tone is perfect, his inflection nailing that pleasant lightness he's supposed to have, carefully not tipping over into flirtation. Which means he's a C grade of passing expectations, but not exceeding them. "Do you know it already?"

"Oh," says Sintha coquettishly. "Aren't you a gentleman. Of course I do." She bats her eyelashes at him.

Of course she knows it already. She probably knows it even better than Finley. She probably knows exactly how much better she knows it than Finley. He's fine. He's sweating from the galop, that's all.

But he keeps the smile on, and he moves her as expertly as he can manage into position, taking lead like a man who didn't internally flip a coin and watch it nervously land on heads, he leads. "Then, let us demonstrate this one." He speaks louder to the room at large. "This is the Schottische. It's not well known outside of Lordaeron, and it's a dance typically done more amidst the regular folk. Not seen as often in the ballroom. It shares a lot in common with the galop, and if you have done a polka, you'll feel it's very similar. It's another closed dance, single partner, around the room. Lady Sintha and I will demonstrate the steps."

Second Dance: The Schottische

It's the same as before — he speaks of the terminology of the steps, one by one, demonstrates them at regular speed, then a slower breakdown, and builds up the dance one part a time. There's no rush, and when he notices confused looks, or people struggling with a particular element, he returns to it as subtly as possible, without calling the person out, as if he had just thought maybe he should do that one part again. As promised, it's not a complex dance. It may even be especially familiar to those who danced at casual merrimaking events in Lordaeron.

Sintha goes along with the demonstration very solemnly, her eyes bright with mirth but her expression innocent as she steps gracefully along with Finley's explanations.

"It's so much fun,” Isla says to Ally. “Avrenne says my mother would dance this one sometimes, usually at the Summer festivals. I don't remember it, but it must be true, if Avrenne remembers it.” She begins the little practice with Ally. She is not good at it, but she does know the steps. She seems to have trouble with knowing exactly where her legs are, and exactly where Alaisa is.

Alaisa is incredibly patient with Isla. She seems perfectly content just to bounce around and have fun. "It is a summer festival dance. We did it in Darrowshire."

"You were in Darrowshire?" Isla asks, and loses her place in the footwork entirely, stumbling into Alaisa with a oh, sorry, I'm sorry. It doesn't deter her from continuing. "Was it ever so lovely? That was near where Avrenne's older brother lived, and I never got to see it before. I still haven't, but of course I've heard things." She definitely cannot make conversation and dance. Her feet will not hippity or hoppity.

"It was very cozy. Let's count together while we get used to dancing together, shall we?" Alaisa grins at Isla. "One, two, three, hop. One, two, three, hop. Hop, hop, hop, hop. One, two, three, hop…"

Siamus walks Mordecai through the pattern of steps carefully at first, waiting to see whether he's got them, before sweeping him into more of an actual-dance pace. He is a patient lead; this is where all of his practice rather than graceful flourish is useful.

Mordecai seems relieved to learn that this dance is primarily footwork, and he picks it up comfortably after only a few repetitions.

Bren, now escaping the gazes of all the scary people, success! makes a beeline for where Harvey is still flirting with Ralaea. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, then takes a deep breath and steps closer.

"Please," says Bren. "Please will you dance with me, my lord? Just… this once. I was almost maimed." He wasn't, but learning it was a possibility has shaken his confidence.

"You handled yourself well," Harvey says, reluctant to let go of Ralaea.

"You weren't even watching!" Bren objects.

Harvey clears his throat. No, no he wasn't. He sighs softly. "Very well, but that leaves…" His gaze travels to Joelle.

"It's fine, I know him," Ralaea says, making her way over to Joelle.

Joelle stares at her like a startled deer. He doesn't move until she says, outright, "You wanna dance?"

"Oh," says Joelle. "Okay." He offers his arm and she takes it, after a glance to make sure Harvey is watching.

Shine is not familiar with this one, but he watches Finley and Sintha attentively. He only once or twice has to actually look down to see where his feet are relative to Lena's. "You should be leading this one," he says under his breath to her, and glances up with a wry smile. "I'll have the hang of it when we start properly."

"I've never led it before," Lena says quietly, and then smiles reassuringly. "It'll be a lot easier once you see how it goes with the music."

"D'ye enjoy dancing, then?" Siamus asks Mordecai. "I don't recall that I saw ye dance at the Gala or our wedding last year, but I know Aszera taught the pair of ye some time back."

"I, um, I like it when there isn't a lot of pressure," Mordecai says quietly. "I've been getting better, though. Mostly I just dance with Colson. We haven't been able to in a while." He doesn't quite meet Siamus' eyes, but this isn't unusual for him.

"Ye seem a fine dancer to me. But there's no pressure here, of course," Siamus assumes.

Mordecai bites his lip in concentration and nods. "Mmhm."

"If I may ask ye, why have ye not been able to with Asp— Colson for a while? I'll feel guilty for taking you apart." His tone is still easy and smiling. He is clearly not going to feel guilty. He has never felt guilty in his life.

It does not take Aze very long to pick up the steps, and she turns to Colson. "Seems straightforward enough! So… how surprised were you to see I was going to be here?"

"Ah, not at all. It was on the invitation," Colson says, as he glides them into a graceful practice starter steps of the basics. "I confess there was a little surprise that you were here in Elwynn. I did not think it would be possible. But Mordecai and I were both glad to receive the invitation, and to know that you are here. It is good to see you, and you look well."

"I am," Aze confirms. "I'm planning to join the Alliance, if everything goes like I hope. I've never really done anything like that before, but I mean… I'll figure it out, right?"

Colson is silent for a beat or two. "I believe you will, Aze," he says gently, in that Paladin Voice. "If this is the path your heart tells you is right, then Mordecai and I will be pleased to offer whatever support we may. You have but to ask."

Finley looks to Siamus. It seems like people have got it as good as they're gonna got it without music.

Siamus catches Finley's eye and looks past Mordecai to nod at the band again. He is the Nodder in Chief.

The music starts up at Siamus' nod, paying no attention whatsoever to mentions of Azeroth's number one destroyer.

The music for the Schottische is a very well known Lordaeron song, one of the most popular stringed arrangements. Would it have been played at a commoner's gathering? Maybe not, but they're not in a barn; they're in a ballroom. The music is ballroom. It's a lovely, spirited song, full of softening and bursts, and a little storming for fun, with bright explosions like spring's best thunderstorms. (Was it chosen for Siamus? Maybe. Just because Avrenne isn't there, doesn't mean her hand isn't still on the wheel.)

It fits well with the dance, giving plenty of opportunity to time hops and turns, and once again the complexity of it helps the simpler dance feel fuller, and not monotonous, as each turn and skip ends up in new pieces. There's enough repetition as well to make it easier for some of the less experienced dancers to feel they know how to plan their movements.

"I think it's right," Aze says quietly as the music starts, and she doesn't say anything about her heart.

"Then I am glad for it," Colson says gently. He's a very good lead, and familiar enough with Aze to guide her well, and watch for when she might add flourishes and flair, ready to aid in spins or sudden leaps. He does not add anything interesting himself; but he performs the set steps gracefully.

Siamus/Mordecai

"Oh, no, you don't have to be guilty," Mordecai reassures him regardless. "Um, because we lost our house. Deathwing."

"Ah." Siamus sobers. It is a weird contrast with the bright tune the orchestra now picks up, as he leads Mordecai into the sprightly start of the dance. Let us skip about the room and talk of Deathwing. "I'm sorry. We lost ours — our townhouse, that is — as well, and some of the household with it. It was… an ugly day. Still, I'm glad the pair of ye made it safely, aye? Where d'ye live now? At the vineyard, I assume?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mordecai says, and loses the beat immediately. He mutters, "Shoot," and picks back up quickly enough. "Um, we're renting a room in Stormwind. Cathedral district. Colson has to travel for work a lot."

Siamus nods gravely. He moves smoothly through the momentary lost step as though nothing had happened. "The pair of ye are always welcome here," he observes. "Lord Bertrand and Lady Priscilla have stayed in the past." He smiles that slight smile again. "And ye can borrow the ballroom."

He is thoughtfully silent for a moment, and then asks, "The Cathedral District? That's — ye must have a great deal to do wi'the church, the pair of ye."

"That's a kind offer. Mmhm." Mordecai smiles, his eyes flickering towards Siamus's face briefly and then away. "I've been spending a lot of time there lately. Sometimes I go with Colson, but his squad is working in a desert this time, so I haven't been. It's very peaceful. Do you worship the Tidemother here?"

Siamus blinks at him, and looks momentarily wary. Is it… a trap? "We do," he says. On behalf of all of Fallon House, apparently. "Are ye familiar?"

"Yes," Mordecai says softly. He's hard to hear over the music, except perhaps to Siamus and anyone deliberately dancing close-by. "When I tried to learn the funeral rites, I was told… that they're not really something an outsider can perform correctly. Not for a sea funeral, at least. I did my best anyway, because there wasn't a proper sage available."

Siamus's gaze sharpens. "They're not, no. Did ye… you saw off a child of the Tidemother?" He pauses. "Was it during the war?"

"Yes," Mordecai says very quietly. "After the battle of Mt. Hyjal. I hope his soul still found rest. I couldn't… There was only the Southfury River, and… I did my best, Fallon." The conversation is entirely at odds with the lively hop-skip dancing they're doing.

Siamus studies him for a long moment in silence. Skip, skip, hop. "I believe ye did, and I'm grateful. The river… well. Rivers run to the sea, aye?" Another pause. Hop, hop, skip. "It was good of ye to think of it, and respect it."

Mordecai smiles a little sadly at Siamus. "I'd be… happy to speak more, later. This dance is…" Taking a lot of energy? Supposed to be a happy one? Take your pick.

Siamus looks around them and laughs quietly. He looks back to Mordecai and inclines his head, that sardonic glint in his gaze. "Aye, it is, isn't it? And I'd be happy to as well."

Mordecai nods and goes quiet, focusing on his footwork.

Siamus continues to lead him smoothly, but he is watching Mordecai now with some intent and inward interest.

Colson/Aze

Aze is, as he would likely expect, a very responsive and attentive dancing partner, taking advantage of every opportunity to show off a little. Once they settle into the rhythm, she adds, in explanation, "The Admiral invited me here, he's an ally. And I helped at the fleet at Vashj'ir, too - this isn't completely out of nowhere."

"I believe you," Colson says softly. "I heard much about Vashj'ir from Cobalt Company's involvement. That must have been an interesting challenge for you, and I know very well that you would have been an asset in assistance. I hope that your stay here is a vacation after so much hard work, well deserved and earned." His tone is sincere, and warm, and she can hear more of a smile in his voice than what is on his stoic face.

"Yeah, I didn't go into the Plane of Water or anything," Aze says, getting a little winded with the talking and the dancing. "I just fought naga. It was a different sort of vac… challenge than being here. I'm trying to live up to the invitation."

Alaisa/Isla

Isla knows this dance. She is not good at this dance. She loses her timing at every turning, and she is rapidly off beat, and without Alaisa's expertise, she'd spin off into chaos outside the circle of dancers. Her hair is becoming a wild, tangled mass of brown waves, and she's flushed from the exertion with her dress, and she looks so happy that it practically casts a spotlight over her. "You're so wonderful," she tells Alaisa, a little too loudly. "Hoppity, hop hop."

Alaisa has decided that between making sure Isla dances well and making sure Isla enjoys her first dance (that she was asked to dance), the latter of the two is far more important. She is grinning the whole time.

Shine/Lena

Once the music has begun, Shine does relax into the dance. He does not necessarily get better at the dance, but it's clearly more about fun than skill for him at the moment. He has stopped checking on his feet and is focused on Lena herself; although he does avoid stepping on her feet, he does miss his step or a turn from time to time, and laughs it off. "Sorry," he tells her, his gaze bright.

Lena doesn't seem bothered by skill or lack thereof, she's mostly here for fun. She fully commits to the dance, laughing off any errors and shaking her head at his apologies.

Finley/Sintha

Finley is doing his best to simultaneously impress upon Sintha that he is very competent at dancing and observing the ballroom at the same time without appearing overtly to be doing so. He is doing this so intently, however, that he has forgotten the other component of this style of spying information gathering, which is that he should be also making blithe conversation with his partner to disguise how he is watching everyone else.

"Who are we watching?" Sintha asks him in a loud, conspiratorial whisper as she skips through a turn on light feet, her skirts swishing.

Finley doesn't jump at her whisper, but he almost misses a step, caught just in time to smooth out. He sighs in defeat, and leans closer to make sure his whisper is real, his mouth barely moving. "The usual. Everyone," he says dryly. "Sunstrike in particular, who asks for her and who she asks for, and Avrenne wants to know what Ralaea, and Morningdew, think of Elle."

"Blessed stars," Sintha says in a perfectly conversational tone rather than a whisper. "Are they meddling? Why do I ask, of course they are." Now she drops her voice to a murmur again. "And is our lady guest… suspect? Has she misbehaved?"

Finley gives Sintha a wry smile, and a twist of a nod as they turn. He keeps an expert glance with his gaze to make sure he's watching the others properly, and his position as instructor gives him plenty of reason to check in on people with a reason. "No, but the information will tell Avrenne how to make the approach. Fallon and her want Sunstrike for the Alliance, but Avrenne wants to know why Sunstrike would do it, and what's her draws for the long term. If this is just a whim, she could whim back, and that'd be a blow to the House that sponsored her."

"And does she seem whimsical thus far?" Sintha asks. She is watching only Finley's face, still brightly, looking nowhere else.

Oh, Light, pop quiz. Finley keeps on his gentleman's face, but his eyes are so guarded he might as well be wearing a blindfold, too. "I get the feeling that Sunstrike doesn't do much with long term planning," he says. "Spontaneity, and blending in wherever she goes, yes. Knowing where she'll be in a year, let alone ten years from now? No. So, truth be told, this makes me uneasy. But it's not my call. I'm just here to watch." And report. Always report.

He's really starting to sweat now, both literally and internally. Even his hands have started to grow ever so slightly clammy, and the flush on his cheeks is more pronounced. I-it's a very hoppity dance.

"Well," says Sintha sweetly. "There are ways to manage that sort of whimsy. But naturally we all hope it won't come to that."

Okay, now Finley gulps. "Yes, ma'am, of course," he agrees.

Sintha nods very seriously at him.

Ralaea/Elle, Harvey/Bren

Ralaea seems, surprisingly, at least partway familiar with this dance. It takes her a few passes to really get into it, but once she does she begins to show off, forcing Joelle to adjust around her, which he does obligingly. She does not, however, pay much attention to Joelle himself, her gaze constantly tracking Harvey across the room to see if he's watching.

Harvey's attention is split. He is focused primarily on Brendol, making sure the younger man is getting his timings right, but he can't help his gaze from wandering back to Ralaea from time to time. Whenever she catches him looking, a satisfied smirk appears on her face. How's that, terrible dancing instructor?

The second dance comes to an end. The band once again swaps around their instruments, speaking in low, quiet tones to each other. Anyone getting very close will note that their sentences seem often only half articulated, the mark of people who know each other very well.

Between the Schottische and the Minuet

Finley doesn't do anything that could possibly suggest that he's glad his test, uh, dance with Sintha is over. Please don't fail him, Sintha. He'll take a C-grade. C minus, even!

Sintha curtsies with exaggerated grace to Finley. "Gosh," she says, "you have quite worn me out. I need a lemonade." She swans toward the refreshments table, looking not remotely worn out.

Shine offers Lena his arm again to lead her from the floor. He is a little breathless now, but maybe as much with laughter as from the dancing. He leans toward her to address her confidentially, with a smile. "Shall I release you into the wilds? Will ye take some turns with your friends now?"

Lena leans in to answer him with a mischievous smile, "Only if you promise to claim me again later."

Shine smiles down at her. "I'll want ye back for the waltz, at the least, won't I?"

"Of course," Lena nods. "Our specialty."

Isla has trouble with the stop of the music and the stop of the dance, caroming into Alaisa as she tries to halt too quickly.

Alaisa catches Isla easily, steadies her, and then releases her to curtsy. "Thank you for the dance! That was fun, wasn't it? I had fun."

"I did! It was!" Isla says breathlessly. Her hair has caught around her neck and forehead. She takes one of Alaisa's hands and shakes it vigorously. "You were perfect! Oh, I wish you would think of coming to — stay here as a guest sometime. We have the rooms for it. You could visit and — Sintha could be here and we could all dance and dance any day." She should probably sit down for a bit.

Colson brings him and Aze to a graceful landing. "You dance beautifully, Aze. It is always a pleasure to dance with you. I hope you are enjoying yourself," he tells her.

"You as well," Aze says, bowing her head slightly and smiling as she steps back. "I'm glad we got to dance again - it's been too long since Telaar. And I hope you have fun today."

She can hear the smile in Colson's voice. "Of course. I will be enjoying myself today. Mordecai is here," he says in simple explanation.

Aze smiles fondly, and says, "Should we go find him and the Admiral?"

Siamus ambles from the dance floor, pausing on the way to offer Colson a handshake. It seems sort of absent-minded; have a handshake, no reason.

Colson takes it in stride, with a perhaps surprisingly firm grip, a masculinely assertive handshake with well maintained sword calluses. "Fallon," he says, in lieu of something more casual like, hello. He looks over at Mordecai with a soft smile.

That is, in fact, the expected greeting in Siamus World. Siamus nods to him. "Asp– Colson." He looks down at Aze and smiles. "I'm afraid Mordecai's taken his leave of me already. But here I am, at least."

Mordecai already has a glass of water in his hands. He's thirsty.

Ralaea starts to bolt back to Harvey as soon as the dance is over, but after roughly two paces, remembers her manners and spins back around to curtsy and mumble a "thank you." Joelle bows in response, and heads back towards the refreshment tables for water.

Brendol, by now, is looking slightly winded, though much more confident, his cheeks a rosy pink from exertion.

"That would be very fun," Alaisa says, looping her arm through Isla's and guiding her back towards the chairs. "Unfortunately, I have work in the city almost every day and I would have to go back and forth all of the time - but! Perhaps for one of the holidays?"

Isla plops into a chair, out of breath, as her dress takes up half a chair in each direction. "Oh, will you?" she asks Alaisa, all pleading. "The next holiday — that has to be near Love Is In The Air, isn't it? That's near Sintha and my birthdays as well! Wouldn't that be just wonderful? We could have ever so much fun."

"Oh! When is your birthday? And would you like more lemonade, or do you want something different this time?" Alaisa remains standing, because she's going to get them drinks.

"Lemonade. We almost never get to have it for the middle of the day like this," Isla tells her. "And it's February 14th for me. I'll be seventeen! Which is almost eighteen, which is almost when I might be allowed to be out. Avrenne says that she will consider it, and I so hope for it. I didn't think I'd be in Society at all, but it's the most splendid sort of thing, and I've always wanted to know what happens in the balls for real. You read about them, but everyone writes them differently, and I don't think some of the authors ever saw one properly. Or if they did, they were very boring themselves because they wrote the balls so very tediously."

Alaisa fetches them both lemonade this time, and sits next to Isla, and she says, "If someone finds balls tedious, it's because they haven't perfected the art of people-watching and imagination. Here you are." She waits until Isla has a firm grip on her lemonade to fully release the glass.

Isla is at least good at one of those things, which also allows her to imagine that she's good at people-watching. She takes the lemonade eagerly and gulps down half of it so fast that she sputters and gasps. She's fine, she's fine. "I'm fine," she says.

Finley looks over at the sound of Isla's antics, and grimaces. "Isla," he says, under his breath.

"Are ye enjoying yourself so far, Asze– Miss Sunstrike?" Siamus inquires. Goddammit. Names.

"Very much so," Aze says with a smile. "Friends I haven't seen in… well in some cases over a year."

Siamus offers her a gallant half-bow. "I'm pleased we could afford ye the opportunity. We must invite whoever ye like while you're here. The Aspenwoods, naturally, are welcome any time." He puts a hand on Colson's shoulder briefly.

Colson blinks, the only slight indication that he wasn't expecting the touch, but he smiles faintly. "We would be glad to. I cannot promise that we will be able to visit often. The work in Uldum has proven more unpredictable than we had expected. There are new races of Titan build, and they are both at war with each other, with some allied with and others fighting against Deathwing. The flight paths are still new. But the difference between the army and Cobalt Company is that we have frequent leave after several months of work, and we will have more time then."

Aze listens with interest. For a moment she looks like she might ask a question about this mysterious place, but then she remains silent.

"Ah, Uldum, aye. Been hearing early tales. Ancient desert, is it? Coastal access, though, in the south, so if naval support's called for — " Siamus shrugs affably. A man's always got to be thinking about the potential for Naval Support. "Tell us about these Titanborn, though." He ushers the pair with him toward the refreshments. "Not Dwarves or the like this time, are they? Cats, I'd heard."

Aze almost stumbles at that. Her expression says, Wait, what? Cats?, but she doesn't say anything.

"Yes. They resemble centaurs, but with feline attributes. They call themselves the tol'vir. It seems that they were at least three societal groupings with an established monarchy in each. We are working the Ramkahen, who have willingly allied with us, against the Neferset, who have allied with Deathwing in exchange for greater power, particularly to remove the 'Curse of Flesh,'" Colson reports, his tone more appropriate for the military than a ballroom. "Unfortunately, the Windlord Al'Akir succeeded in an offensive attack against the third group of tol'vir, the Orsis. We are working together with the Ramkahen to secure the area and notable artifacts to keep it free of Deathwing and his allied wind elementals." He doesn't say sir, at the end of it, but there's something about the way he speaks that makes it sound like he did anyway.

"We may not at this time require naval support, but air support may be relevant soon," says a former Knight-Captain. "There is a floating fortress, similar to those in Netherstorm in Outland of Draenei make, or Dalaran in Azeroth, and it is a stronghold of our and the Ramkahen's enemies, sir." Oh, he didn't manage to keep the last one off. Old habits.

Aze manages not to ask a lot of questions by force of will, but her whole manner switches subtly away from dancer-at-a-party towards soldier-in-a-briefing as Colson reports.

Siamus has undergone the same transition, and absorbs the details of Colson's report with the impassive manner of an officer being briefed. He almost definitely heard the silent sir. "A floating fortress," he repeats. "That I'd not heard yet. I'll have words wi'the Grand Admiral, whether air support's — " He hesitates. "We can speak later," he tells Colson, and then retrieves his smile as they approach Mordecai.

Aze grits her teeth and takes a breath, deliberately relaxing her shoulders and smiling as the group approaches Mordecai. To him, she says with a cheerful wave, "Hello! I hope you're enjoying the dancing?”

"Mmhm," Mordecai says, smiling at her. "They put the most energetic ones right at the start, I hope. If the next dance is even faster somehow I might just collapse." He sounds like he's at least mostly joking. "Do you know the order?"

Colson smiles at his husband, moving to his side, offering his hand to hold, and evaluating how warm and/or tired Mordecai is with an attentiveness that makes his devotion obvious.

Mordecai takes his husband's hand, glass of water still in the other. "Hi," he says to Colson, his face a little flushed from exertion rather than embarrassment. That was a very energetic hippity hoppity last dance.

Siamus observes the devotion with that faint tilt of a smile again — cuuuute, also perhaps kind of a bummer — and then sets his hand lightly on Aze's back and looks around to take stock of the others. "Isla appears to be having as fine a time as she'd expected," he observes with paternal fondness, and then eyes Ralaea. Rae… does not appear to be having a fine time, exactly, but maybe that is also as fine as one might have expected. "Perhaps I'll see whether I can borrow Ebek for the next one."

"At least you already know mine, later on," Aze says with a smile. "And I haven't set the music too fast for it, don't worry."

"Hello, Beautiful," Colson says. He turns his head to address Aze. "That is good to know, Aze, thank you. We will be sure to keep some energy in reserve specifically for it." He looks back at Mordecai, moving his thumb gently over the back of his hand. "Would you like me to ask the musicians if they have an order of dances prepared and the beats per minute of each of the others?"

"The other dance instructor probably knows the order too," Mordecai says, looking towards Finley. "Um, all right. I'd appreciate it if you would find out for me. Thank you."

"Of course," Colson says, bringing Mordecai's hand up to his lips for a brief, very Society appropriate kiss. The vibe of only thee is unfortunately obvious. Ah, well. "I will be back soon." He gives a touch of a bow's movement of his upper body to Siamus and Aze, once again in the guise of a nobleman not a Knight-Captain. "If you will excuse me for a few moments."

Colson makes his way decidedly across the ballroom to speak first with the band, nodding along as the gnome happily explains all about the bpms of their selections and possibilities, enthusing with large arm gestures.

Shine ambles toward the group with Lena on his arm, and stops between Mordecai and Aze. He offers a hand to Mordecai. "Shine," he says pleasantly. "I don't believe we've met officially."

"I hope you've been well," Lena says, nodding cordially to Mordecai. "I know our paths have crossed less, since I've left Cobalt."

Mordecai stops staring in the direction Colson went and snaps his attention back to the two. "Hello," he says. "I'm Mordecai, it's nice to meet you." He smiles a little shyly at the two of them. "Mmhm. How have you been, Lena?"

"Never better," Lena says, resting her free hand on Shine's arm. "I haven't been out in the field since Vashj'ir, but I've been keeping prepared."

Shine smiles, either back at Mordecai or at Lena's reply or at who knows, he is a one-eyed man of mystery. (It's door number two.)

Aze does not quite smirk at Lena and Shine. It is a friendly smile. She does say, "Mordecai, dance with me this next? If you'll lead, that is."

"That's good," Mordecai mumbles to Lena.

"Oh. All right. Um, I can try. Hopefully it'll be a dance I know." Mordecai finishes up his water and nods to Aze.

"If you don't, maybe I won't either, so it'll be fine," Aze says cheerfully. Because the best partner when you don't know what you're doing is someone who doesn't know what they're doing.

Finley eyes the group forming around the Admiral, and tries to set another eye on Isla, which is impossible for Finley even with two eyes, because he is not a chameleon. He could also use a third eye for Ralaea, Harvey, and Bren. And a fourth eye for Elle. He's approaching his biblically accurate angel era. Ultimately, he takes his eyes and the rest of him over to Elle, sitting alone, and approaches with a smile.

Ralaea is standing at the far side of the refreshment tables with Harvey and Brendol, ignoring her brother entirely as she shows off her skirt swishing to Harvey. The two of them seem to have followed Harvey to that furthest end, perhaps because of the death knight's unspoken desire to stay out of everyone's way.

Joelle's gaze seems to visibly brighten as Finley approaches. "Finley," he says in greeting.

"Elle," Finley greets back. He still sounds out of breath, and his cheeks are heavily flushed red. "How's the dancing so far?" The way he's looking at Joelle's face isn't a heavy scrutiny, but it's obvious that he's paying attention.

"I usually exercise alone, or with my mother," Joelle says. "This is a nice change." He looks composed, like the dances so far were just a light warm-up. Still, he is sipping at a glass of water, diligently staying hydrated.

"The next one's the Minuet, better for talking, little bit less of just exercise, if that's something you'd like," Finley says. He reaches over to pick up a glass, saluting it to the staff member who pours it for him, before he takes a sip of it, arching a brow in a friendly way to Elle. "I'll be doing a lot of talking before we get started. It's not all just footwork, the Minuet. Are you enjoying yourself, yet?"

Joelle nods. "I am happy to see all the smiles," he says.

Finley laughs pleasantly, and takes another drink of his water, reaching out with his other hand to set a fellow hand on Joelle's shoulder, clapping two pats down. "Glad to hear it. Hope you're used to Ralaea's expression enough to not take it too personally that she was scowling. But, if it's smiles you're looking for, you'll find 'em easier in the Admiral, Lady Sintha, Lady Alaisa, Miss Coit, Isla, Miss Sunstrike, and myself."

"Ralaea wants to smile," Joelle says. "Sometimes, if you watch, you will see little rays of sun peeking from behind the clouds. Does she scowl at you often?"

Finley shakes his head ruefully. "I don't think I've ever made Ralaea smile, but then again, I've never given her either horse or another sword. It's just clouds for someone like me."

Colson walks across the ballroom from the band over to Finley and Elle, inclining his head politely to both. He is not smiling, and the set of his face makes it seem like maybe he has never smiled before in his life. "Mr. Boutille, Mr. Ebek, please excuse me for interrupting. I had a question regarding the set for dancing."

Finley's easy mannerisms of a pleasant gentleman slips for a moment, a reflexive hunch of his shoulders, and an immediate wariness in his face. He sets his glass onto the table, and pushes a smile up as he removes his hand from Elle's shoulder. "Of course, milord. What can I answer for you?"

"What are the next dances?" Colson inquires.

"The Lordaeron Minuet, the Classic Lordaeron Allemande, the Stormwind Waltz, two sets of amar'uel as instructed by Miss Sunstrike, and The Alliance Quadrille," Finley answers, his body language still telegraphing a tightness of wariness, and his eyes so guarded he might as well tuck a shell over his head and be done with it.

"Thank you," Colson says. He gives them both an inclining of his head. "Excuse me again." He's already walking away back towards Mordecai.

Finley's tension eases back. Whew. He aims a self-conscious half-smile at Elle. "Thought he might have been here to ask for a dance," he confides in a low voice.

"You don't want to?" Joelle asks, peering after Colson curiously. "Because he is hard to see?"

Finley leans closer to Joelle. "No, that's not it. I don't mind a challenge of paying more attention to a man who's not easy to read," he says, and his tone suggests he's talking more about Joelle than Colson. "I just can't imagine what we'd talk about, and the next two are talking dances. Couldn't have less in common with the man than if I'd tried." He looks over towards Ralaea. "But, don't let it be said I won't try for a challenge when it comes to it. Maybe I'll see if I can get a ray of sunshine. And if not, then I'll be back to commiserate with you." He reaches out again to touch Joelle lightly on the shoulder. "Best of luck to you with your next with getting a smile."

The smile is almost visible on Joelle's face. It certainly is in his eyes. "Good luck to you, too," he says encouragingly.

Alaisa finishes her lemonade and rises. She leaves her glass on the table and makes her way over to the Death Knight and the Westwinds. "Hello," she says brightly. "I'm Ally Lysander. I'm Cobalt Company's translator and one of the paperwork people - I know you by name only thus far, Ralaea."

Ralaea stops to peer at Alaisa. "Oh, you're Cobalt? So you're like Elo — uh… Lord Ference, Lord Colson, Lord Mordecai, and Lady Cressidha." She pauses to frown at Harvey, her expression suggesting she's searching for an easier way she could have said that.

"You are also a noble working with Cobalt Company," Harvey suggests.

"Yeah, that." Ralaea returns her attention to Alaisa. "What else do you do? Weapon of choice?"

Harvey fights an eyeroll. Straight to weapons with her.

Alaisa seems amused and not at all offended. "Yeah, I am. Two swords, preferably. Knives can work in a pinch. I do a lot of things, but transcription is one of them, as Sir Morningdew might recall." Her eyes flick towards Harvey to gauge his reaction to that particular choice of address. "And I am told you helped my brother Theris during the Nightmare," she says, with a warm and friendly smile. "For which I am grateful."

Ralaea seems almost smugly satisfied at the two swords answer. Fellow sword girl, but noble.

Harvey's brows tilt upward in mild surprise at the address. "Ah, Theris. I recall. You are… on good terms with him?"

Sintha, a glass of lemonade in hand, breezes over to where Alaisa is speaking to Harvey and the two Westwinds. She smiles brightly at the group. "Hello, Ralaea," she says, and makes a casual curtsey to the two men as she simultaneously has a sip of lemonade.

"I am," Alaisa says, her tone friendly. As Sintha approaches, Lace smiles back at her.

"Lady Sintha," Ralaea says. Her curtsy is polite. Her expression says manners are silly.

Harvey drifts back a step, perhaps unconsciously. They're not really here to talk to him. He'll just give them room.

Brendol watches his sister — his blunt, anti-manners sister — perform appropriately, and hurries himself into a bow as well. "Lady Sintha, Lady Alaisa," he says.

Sintha's wrinkle-nosed, impish expression back at Ralaea says she agrees.

Brendol, having gained at least some amount of confidence from his dance with Harvey, takes a deep breath and, facing Sintha, says almost too quickly, "Lady Sintha would you perhaps… like to dance? With… me?" He adds quickly, "You uh, look like you know what you're doing. And you look nice." Those two statements are not necessarily related.

Ho ho, mischief managed! Sintha sets her lemonade glass carelessly on a chair and eyes Brendol, smiling in a way that would give Finley palpitations. "Mr. Westwind, that is so awfully sweet of you! I would be delighted."

Finley strolls casually into the conversation circle with Ralaea and her boys, nodding to the ladies first, and then a brief bob of his head to Bren and Harvey. "Ladies, gentleman," he says, all pleasant tones, and habitually guarded eyes. "I hope everyone's enjoying the afternoon so far. We've got an older Lordaeron dance next, the Minuet pre-Alliance, and I had a mind that I'd be pleased it you'd give me the honor of it, Ralaea." He looks over to Harvey, managing to make eye contact. "If that's all right with you, Mr. Morningdew."

"Very much so," Alaisa says to Finley. "You're a good instructor. You have the patience for it."

Harvey halts his retreat after being caught in the eye contact. He gestures gracefully, as if in offer. "Ralaea?"

Ralaea eyes Finley with no small amount of suspicion, but she shrugs. "Yeah? It's because of how well I did in the last dance, right? Sure. I'll dance with you."

"That's very kind of you," Finley says to Alaisa, as he offers his arm to Ralaea, turning his pleasant smile onto the grumpy suspicious girl.

Alaisa turns to Harvey. "Might I have this next dance with you, then?" she asks.

Harvey once again appears mildly surprised. "If it would not bother you to do so, it would be my pleasure," he says.

"Bother me? Not in the slightest. Are you familiar with the Lordaeron Minuet?" Alaisa asks. "You seem like you would be."

"I am well-versed in dances from Stormwind and Lordaeron both," Harvey says, offering his arm. His tone is gentlemanly, but this is Harvey; it's definitely a brag.

"As am I," Alaisa says, taking his arm without hesitation. She truly doesn't seem uncomfortable in his presence at all.

From the group over by the table, Siamus has been scanning the room again. He watches Finley and Joelle for a moment and, as Finley then apparently takes his leave, he tilts his head thoughtfully. He glances at the others. "I believe I'll collect a partner before the next one begins, aye?" He bows his head to the group, and turns to amble in Joelle's direction.

Aze gives Siamus's arm one last affectionate touch as he walks away, and then she turns to Mordecai.

Siamus stops before Joelle, wearing his slight smile. "Ebek," he says. "Would ye do me the honor of the next one?"

Joelle rises, finishing his water. "Admiral," he says, his voice soft. "The honor is mine." He bows, the ornament in his hair making a faint jingle.

"Not at all," says Siamus, in all apparent seriousness. Something seems to have struck him, possibly from the recent Cultural Interchange with the Aspenwoods. "How d'ye prefer to be addressed, by the way?" He offers his arm, a reflexive and perhaps absent-minded gallantry. One gives one's arm to escort one's dance partner.

Joelle takes his arm automatically. This is safe, welcome touching. "Elle," he says.

"Elle," repeats Siamus thoughtfully, and nods. "Ye can call me Fallon, if ye like." He pauses. "It's how friends address me. It's why I say 'Dinnsfield' and 'Hartrim' and 'Ebek,' as well. Meant to be friendly. But Elle, then."

Friends. Joelle's gaze is warm, melting pools of dark chocolate. "Fallon," he says agreeably.

Shine, having agreed with Lena to switch partners for this dance, is also surveying the room. Isla is sitting alone. At her first party! He glances at Lena and smiles to her. "I believe I'll see if Isla wants to try the next."

Lena smiles back at Shine. "I'm sure she'd love a safe partner. Someone she knows well. As for me… I'm bound to find somebody…" she scans the crowd, which is beginning to pair off.
Mordecai reaches out a hand to Colson as he returns. "Welcome back. Um, Aze asked me for the next one. Which dance is next?"

Colson arrives and immediately picks up Mordecai's hand, his expression mild as he regards Lena, answering Mordecai first. "The next one will be the Lordaeron Minuet." He gives the beats per minute, which is a number of some sort. "Ah, Lena, if you are free for the next dance, and would prefer a familiar face, I would be glad to be so."

Lena smiles and steps over to Colson. "I would be delighted to dance with you, Colson. And I think I do think I know this one - it used to be very popular."

Shine smiles at Lena and then at Colson. "I believe I'll go and claim my new partner," he says, in sort-of-answer to Colson's question. He lays his hand briefly over Lena's on his arm, bows his head to the group, and turns to take his leave.

Mordecai squeezes Colson's hand once. "Thank you," he says quietly, and then lets go to offer his arm to Aze. "I don't know it," he says. "So we'll both have to learn together."

"Fun," Aze says with a smile, taking his arm. "It's always better to learn new things with friends."

Meanwhile, Shine ambles over to where Isla and her lemonade are seated. "Isla," he says. "Hullo. May I have your next dance?" He makes a gentlemanly bow.

Isla's enthusiasm for being asked for a dance has not dimmed even slightly by it being no longer the first time. "Oh!" She does not remember to set her lemonade glass down before she leaps upwards, sending the chair she was sitting on tipping over backwards. Wheeee. "I would love to! I have always to dance the Minuet properly. We never had enough people for it at home, and there wasn't enough room either."

Shine steps swiftly forward to relieve Isla gently of the lemonade glass before further disaster can strike. He manages via footmanly magic to make the gesture courteous — Allow me to take that for you, madame — and sets the glass aside. He does not remark on the tipped chair. "I'm afraid I've only ever seen the minuet," he tells Isla. "I'll be wanting the instruction to start. But I'll do my best not to steer us astray, aye?"

"Do you know this one already?” Finley asks Ralaea. “If not, it won't be a problem. I'll be there to help. It's got some moving around parts, sort of a like a spiral or a gear in some places. Might be easy to think of this one and the next in engineering terms."

"Do you know engineering?" Ralaea asks Finley, taking his arm.

Finley laughs lightly. "No, not hardly at all, but Her Grace knows enough to use the metaphors from time to time, and I'll do what I can to explain some things the way she did. I think there's a number of people here who would better grasp it for that. If you think of any good ones when you're doing it, tell me. I'm happy to learn another way to think of it." This is not the same guy who argues like a wet cat with Isla over the dining room table about who knows more about Gilneas. This is Party Finley. He starts guiding Ralaea out of the group and towards the center of the ballroom, with another nod to Harvey.

"If you tell me there's a gear somewhere, I'm going to start looking for one," Ralaea informs him.

"In the dance, or on the dance floor?" Finley asks Ralaea, somewhat rhetorically. "There's no actual gears involved. Just that the rotations work like that. It's a lot of mirroring the other person's actions. I'll explain and show you what I mean." He lets her go to step away for more room to explain and demonstrate.

He clears his throat. "If I could have everyone's attention again. This next dance is older, pre-dates the Alliance, from Lordaeron more of most of us here grandparent and parent's generation, but it's a good one to keep. The one after is built from it, the Lordaeron Allemande, so we'll start with the easier one first." Again, he goes through the steps, explaining what he's doing, slowly with an invisible partner, explaining as he does when the other person would be mirroring the other. It's more complicated than either the Galop or the Schottische, and involves significantly more hand and arm action now.

Shine has led Isla out to what seems like a safely islanded spot on the floor; Siamus escorts Joelle to form a row with the pair of them, at the end. He gives them room. He knows Isla.

Isla is thrilled, twirling her dress back and forth as she watches Finley impatiently, sometimes mouthing instructions to herself when the words are more fun like, spinny spin twirly.

Alaisa and Harvey end up in one of the corners of the room. "May I call you Harvey?" she whispers during Finley's explanation.

"You… may, if you like," Harvey says. This entire situation seems to be confusing to him. "How would you prefer to be addressed, then?"

"Ally, or Alaisa, either are perfectly fine," Alaisa murmurs. "Please forgive me if I seem overly familiar, I've simply been hearing about you for some time, but I don't mean to put you at a disadvantage. If you have questions for me, feel free to ask."

Colson leads Lena into position behind Mordecai and Aze, smiling at his husband as he sets them into place, watching the instruction attentively and politely, although he knows this one already.

Lena watches as well, just in case the details of Fallon ballroom Lordaeron Minuet is a little different from farmtown Silverpine Minuet.

Aze moves with Mordecai into position, and her expression is again unusually serious and intense as she tries to follow all the small movements of the dance.

Shine lets Isla twirl impatiently; he is focused intently on Finley's demonstration explanation.

Siamus focuses on walking Elle through the individual steps as Finley demonstrates them.

Sintha is… surprisingly gentle with Brendol, and helps walk him through the steps as well, charming all the while.

Finley unknowingly reveals how well he watches people, and understands their body language and facial expressions as he repeatedly slows down and re-demonstrates at places people have shown that they aren't quite getting. He is, as Alaisa noticed, surprisingly patient, and he doesn't make it obvious who he's doing the repeats for.

Mordecai is one of those people who needs the repeats. He is not picking this up as quickly as he would like. "Sorry," he whispers to Aze, and then, "Thank you for your patience," the next time he messes up completely.

Aze doesn't show any sign of impatience with Mordecai's slow learning, though she does pick it up relatively fast. Instead, she's focused on trying to be an accommodating partner, shifting her own footwork to match his, correct or not.

"You don't need to apologize," Aze says, pitching her voice low. "This is what we're here for, right? Dancing. So. What do you think? Think I fit in well enough here?"

Once Finley is sure most people have absorbed the steps, the concept of the movement, and the interplay of the dance, he nods to Siamus.

Siamus cues the band.

Third Dance: The Lordaeron Minuet

The steps being so formal might not be the only difference between the farmtown Silverpine Minuet; the music accompanying it most certainly is. It's more modern, comparatively to the dance, but was clearly written for it. It's lilting and soft to start, easing people into the dance, excellent conversational speed as they move in and out of spirals, bursting into spritely energy just as the couples would be touching hands closer and closer, and turning and turning, spinning and spinning. The footwork and the movement is tight enough to not be so demanding physically as the first two, and instead lends itself to a certain sort of heart pounding excitement, to feel the flutter of flirtation with their partner. It starts to slow, softens in its racing beat, and then slows more and more, encouraging a lingering touch of the hands, a reluctant parting. Maybe even a little eyebrow action as the partners look at each other over their hands.

Alaisa/Harvey

The dance, as well as a refined level of grace seems to come easily to Harvey, and his focus in it seems to be on showing off and allowing his partner to shine. His eyes do not seek Ralaea this time, remaining fully with Alaisa. "Hearing about me from whom?" he asks. "Hopefully not Ms. Lenaire."

"Oh, some friends of mine," Alaisa says airily, and when the dance moves them closer together, she says in a lower voice, "The Sunstrikes." Her curly hair, as it clouds around her face, makes it impossible to see how her mouth moves from the side. "And my brother Theris. He used to work in the palace library, you know. Before he died and was raised." Alaisa has the movements of the dance flawlessly memorized, and executes them very smoothly.

"That explains your comfort," Harvey says, and if there is a touch of bitterness in his voice, he brushes it away. "Are they well, these days? I have not seen them in some time. And your brother, he seemed the gentle sort. I can only imagine what he has gone through."

"I believe they're well, yes," Alaisa says, not volunteering any more information about the Sunstrikes. "Theris is a gentle sort. He's been living in our old family home in Raven Hill for some time, trying to fix it up. I'm certain your company would be welcomed if you ever wanted to visit."

"Perhaps I will visit. I am staying in Elwynn, myself, it would not be a long journey."

Brendol/Sintha

Sintha is making demure, flirtatious eyes at Brendol, dropping her gaze and lifting it shyly to look through the screen of her lashes at him, smiling a secret little smile. Sorry, Brendol.

This was not what Brendol practiced for. His face reddens and he tries to avoid her gaze, but keeps glancing back anyway. She is making it very difficult for him to focus on the steps. Once or twice, he trips over himself.

Finley/Ralaea

Finley leads Ralaea with a good, strong lead of not hesitating, but also paying close attention to his partner, fixing up the syncing on his part as he goes, rather than trying to make her fix her mistakes. The fact that they are an entire foot different in height means he takes smaller steps. "So, what do you think of it, the Minuet?" he asks her as the dance starts in truth.

"It's weird," Ralaea says bluntly. "I don't really get the point of it? At least things were happening in the other dances." Maybe her definition of happening is the go fast variety. Her footwork is still miserable.

"I understand. They have the feeling like you're going somewhere, right? You'll like the waltz, I think, for that. As for the point, this is what people invented specifically so there wasn't as much happening in the dance, so you could talk more with the person. Long time ago, it was one of the ways to flirt in the ballroom while being near people so you could say it was chaperoned, monitored. But, you could get close enough," Finley says as he times it to when the steps as they move in together. "To really get to know someone. The Allemande, the next one, is even more that. The nobility finding loopholes in their own rules, just to find a way to connect with someone."

"If they like each other, they should just kiss," Ralaea says stubbornly. "Everything is so tedious with nobles. Say things this way, not that way, use all the titles, don't say what you're really thinking. Speaking of. Why's Elle here? You invited him?"

Finley laughs lightly. "Trust me, nobles definitely kissed, against their own rules. But, the trick was in not getting caught at it. The ballroom dances were just part of the farce, playing at much higher stakes than us regular people," he tells her. "And yeah, Elle's my invite. He's here to enjoy the afternoon, maybe make some new friends and be around friendly faces. He had some unresolved business with the House, and Her Grace, as you saw. The incident with the break-in was sitting heavily on his conscience. This is a way to start over a bit, and I was happy to offer a new friend the opportunity."

"I wish I'd have known some of those nobles," Ralaea says loudly. "The one I knew was ridiculous about the whole thing." Quieter, she continues, "New friend, huh? Are you friends with the other two as well?"

Harvey visibly twitches at Ralaea's words, but keeps his focus on Alaisa.

"The other two?" Finley asks, thinking as he keeps them turning. "Ah, you mean the other guards, Mr. Dinnsfield and Mr. Hartrim? No. I haven't spent much time talking to either. Elle and I happened across the other while I was out getting sketches for the Alliance Art Exhibition I'm working on. More I talked to him, better I liked him. He's the sort you have to give your go ahead to talk plainly with. Learned how to be quiet, and keep his thoughts to himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have them. We've got things in common that way. Trained my life as a butler, and spent more time learning how to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts hidden."

Ralaea pauses to consider. "I like his dad better," she says. "He's got this… I dunno. Authority when he wants to, but you can tell when he really likes a person. Elle's like… you tell him to do something, and he does it. Are you like that, too? Or only with Avrenne?"

Finley's shoulders twitch, but he keeps his genial smile on. "Avrenne," he says, forgetting to call her Her Grace, "is the head of my House, and I have pledged myself to her service for all my life, because she's earned that a hundred times over. If tells me what she needs from me, it's my privilege and honor to do it for her. By extension, that applies to the Admiral, but those are the only ones I owe that sort of obedience to. But it's also true that I know my place." He glances over at Elle and Siamus, and back to Ralaea. "Sometimes you learn so hard how to be obedient that it just sticks. You've had to take orders you didn't want to, or agree with, haven't you? You learned how to grit your teeth and just do it because you respected the leader giving the order, right? He just sees it differently than you or I might, because he sees that if does this, he can make someone happy, or help them. He's a good man."

"Do you do that? Tell people things, order them, but you don't really want the other person to do it. You want them to question you, make you realize you came at the thing the wrong way?" Finley asks, watching Ralaea closely.

"It helps," Ralaea says, "to know that someone's there who won't let me turn into the next Lich King or something. Harvey's like that. We argue, but that just means we know what each other really thinks. Like you and Isla."

"Isla doesn't know half the time what she really thinks, don't look at me for explanations for what goes on in her head," Finley says with a brother's annoyance. "Elle'll tell you what he's thinking, you just have to tell him you really want to know it. He's got a keen mind. Really takes time to look at people, see what they're thinking, and what they're like. He pays attention." Like Finley is doing right now, watching Ralaea, taking notes. "You really that worried that you could surround yourself with people who'd change you into someone like that arrogant ass Arthas Menethil?"

"Elle doesn't argue," Ralaea… argues. "I did ask his opinion once or twice, but I didn't agree with it so he just got quiet again. And I don't know, because I didn't know Mr. Menethil. But it could happen." Maybe Ralaea has learned from a certain formerly titled noble how much of an insult being called Mr. is.

Finley laughs, but this time it's a different laugh, lower and softer, and his face shows it more, as he bends closer to Ralaea while they circle each other closely as the dance draws towards the end. "I'm sorry, did you just — Mr. Menethil? Look at you, turning their titles game against them. Clever girl." He takes another look at her, his smile fading slowly. "It bothers him, then? Being called 'Mr. Morningdew'? Like a little sting every time he knows they're saying it because he's lost his title."

Ralaea's own scowl clears into the flash of a smile, brief and fleeting, with a hint of long-lost mischief, before fading again. "Yeah. He's gotten better at speaking his mind, since he… you know. Before, he held it all in until it exploded out because he couldn't contain it anymore. Now, he's more open about it. Not… to polite public, but to me, once I stopped running from him. And other death knights." Her nose wrinkles at that last.

Finley glances over at Harvey at that, and then back to Ralaea. "I never knew him, but I saw him from afar. Before, I mean. Avrenne spoke well of him. I remember that much." He hesitates, before he adds, lower voiced, "It grieves her, you know, what happened to him. But I think so long as you accept him, she'll find a place for him. Maybe he'll find that we commoners with our Mr have our upsides. We get to kiss our girls when we want, after all." He brings them to a soft close of the dance, letting the music bring them to a natural stopping point.

The slight mischief returns to Ralaea's gaze as she says, conspiratorially, "As if his titles ever stopped me."

"Scandalous," Finley whispers, a gleam in his own eyes. He straightens up to his fuller height and gives Ralaea a proper bow. "You did well with that dance. You need more work and time with the footwork, but for a first time, that wasn't at all bad. And you're mastering the art of talking and dancing. You're a good student, Ralaea."

Mordecai/Aze

Mordecai alternates between watching Colson and watching Finley, trying to copy both of their movements as best as he can. "I think so? I only just got here, though, I mean, I haven't been… watching for that. Has anybody been… trying to tell you that you don't?"

"No one would say something like that," Aze says quietly, watching only Mordecai and following his movements. "At least, no one here would. I just thought…" a few steps go by, as whatever she thought gets discarded and another one put in its place,"…maybe we can dance more often, if I can fit in well enough here."

"I'd like that." Mordecai's footwork has fallen off-beat. "How long are you staying here for?"

"I'm not sure," Aze says with a low sigh. Without drawing any attention to it, she gently back-leads a little to shift him back into the rhythm of the dance. "Temporarily, though. It was the Admiral who invited me. I've still got my place back in Shattrath." She does not reference any place she might have in Silvermoon.

Mordecai needs all the help from Aze he can get. He is trying so hard.

Anyone who looks at Aze would see a dancer just so delighted with her partner, as she gives him all the help she can without actually taking the lead. "Are you still keeping that place in Telaar? It's been lonely this winter, knowing I won't run into you around the city. I thought about heading up to the Plaguelands a few times, just… I don't know. It's a long way without portals."

"I'm sorry you've been lonely," Mordecai says to Aze, once his feet have gotten into some sort of muscle memory. It's almost correct.

"Yes, well, it's the natural state of being and all that, not your fault," Aze says with a brief laugh. "I wasn't trying to guilt you or anything. Just saying I missed you, because you're my friend. And I'm not trying to be all woe-is-me. Things are good. I don't know if I'll ever be back to the place in Shattrath or not. I guess it's not really up to me."

"It shouldn't be the natural state of being." Mordecai glances at Colson, who is dancing with Lena. "It doesn't have to be forever, anyhow. It's okay. I'm glad you're here."

"Maybe not," Aze says with a smile, but she doesn't glance at anyone. She doesn't really do that, though. "But anyway, I'm glad you're here, too."

Shine/Isla

Brendol isn't the only one tripping over himself, as Isla's footwork goes wrong more than a few time as she enthuses to Shine, "Oh, isn't everyone so beautiful? This is one of the best twirly dances for dresses and it's just like a pictured it would be. Imagine how wonderful it would look if everyone was in a dress and we could — oof I'm fine, I'm fine — all spin around like flowers."

"Ye make a very picturesque little wildflower," Shine says kindly. He is in no position to critique Isla's footwork; at least she's having fun. That's the main thing. "Everyone is very well turned out. What sorts of flowers d'ye think they'd all be?" He pauses and then confides, when they close in to touch hands, "The spinning's the best part, aye?"

Isla is preoccupied by starting in on guesses of what flowers people would be, as a girl who is both extremely enthusiastic about seeing everyone there as a story concept, and also has virtually no knowledge of actual flowers. So it is not names she says to Shine so much as idealized possibilities of flowers. Every time she decides to change someone's flower from an initial concept, her voice grows louder into a near shout. The more she talks, the worse her memory of the dance grows, as she spins and circles incorrectly, and misjudges how far away her hands are from Shine.

"Here," says Shine when they meet at the center again; his own voice is low and confidential. "I'm not yet good enough at this one to do without the music for keeping time. Keep on wi' the flowers, but with all the other conversation around, if we could keep ourselves quieter here so I can hear the band…?"

Isla blushes, teenage embarrassment rearing it's head as she nods. "Oh, of course, I'm sorry, sorry," she says, in a loud whisper. She doesn't keep up with the flowers, as she twirls.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Shine tells her amiably. "You're much more familiar wi'the dances than I am. Which is grand, because ye make me look good." He does not actually specify in which direction this contrast flows. "It's pleasant, a party at the House, isn't it? We should lean on Fallon to do more of them."

Isla is immediately lifted out of her gloom. "Oh, do you think we could? Maybe if he realized that if I was out properly, we could invite even more people, and not only just family and close friends. Not that it isn't the loveliest to see everyone, but it doesn't give much opportunity for imagination when half the people are practically related to you, and everyone else is already married or engaged." She does a reasonably good job of keeping her voice down.

"I don't think," Shine observes thoughtfully, "that he will bend on the subject of your debut. But you're having fun, aren't ye? So even a party with friends can be fun. And if it's imagination you're after, I expect an imagination as fine as yours can… take a party as a canvas to paint over as you please, aye? It will be good practice for when ye do debut. You'll be the most — " Shine searches for an adjective. Not 'graceful,' not 'elegant,' not 'sophisticated' — "You'll be the most vivacious debutante of the season, with all your practice."

"I am having so much fun," Isla rhapsodizes at Shine. "Do you really think so? I haven't had as much time to practice as others. I didn't think I would ever do something like this, not until Avrenne married Siamus. But I did dream of it. And it's like having dreams coming true and being all at once so fast and so out of reach at the same time." She misses the timing of the faster turning, twirling her dress in the wrong direction she needs to go.

"I do think so," Shine agrees gravely. "Particularly if ye tell him — or Her Grace does — that ye ought to have practice before ye debut. Or perhaps Lady Sintha could tell him. But there's no reason to hurry at your dreams either, is there? Sometimes it's pleasant just to dream for a while. Like lying abed later than ye should with a book because it's raining out so ye can't go outside anyway."

Isla sighs, putting as much of a longing romantic headed emphasis on the sound. She gets a daydreamy look, stars practically erupting around her in twinkling shows of it, and the less she thinks to say, the better her dancing gets, as her body goes on some automatic memory.

Shine seems perfectly content with this outcome. Whew.

Siamus/Joelle

"The gift ye brought for Her Grace," Siamus says to Joelle. "That was most kind of ye. A very thoughtful choice. How did ye know it?"

"My family spent time in Lordaeron. My mother made a point to learn the nobility and their crests," Joelle dutifully reports. He seems to have picked up on the dance's timings rather precisely.

"I'm impressed that ye thought of it," says Siamus. He sounds genuinely impressed. "Her Grace's House and heritage are important to her." He studies Joelle, watching his steps. "Ye note details, don't ye? It was important, the thing ye said at Dinnsfield's house that night, about the cannon."

"It…" Joelle is about to ask a question. He stops. "I do," he says instead. "I am happy if it helped."

Siamus nods. "I like a man with an eye for detail. Admirable trait." He arches a brow at Elle. "Sorry, were ye going to ask me something? You're welcome to, if ye like; I'm a hard man to offend, as a rule."

Joelle once again begins a thought, and finishes it before it is said. "I was only… surprised," he says. "About the cannon. I offend people easily. It makes trouble for Lathrik, so I…" He trails off, averting his gaze. Oh no, he volunteered information.

Siamus smiles wryly at Elle. "Well, as I say, I'm a hard man to offend. I'm a sailor who works among sailors, aye? Ye needn't worry about that. I'm in favor plain speaking." He pauses and then confides with dry amusement, "It did my political career no favors, I assure ye, before Her Grace came along. What is it ye think will offend people?"

"I… don't think I am a good judge of that," Joelle admits, peering cautiously at Siamus. "Sometimes people get upset and I don't know why."

Siamus nods thoughtfully at Elle. "Have y'ever asked? Dinnsfield or Hartrim, if not the person themselves?"

"Ren tells me, sometimes, where I go wrong," Joelle says. "There was…" He visibly hesitates, then opts to continue. "A time when we were all visiting Lathrik and Natalyah, and we were going to go shopping, but we were waiting outside the house for Lathrik, who was still inside with Natalyah. I got hungry, so I went in for a sandwich and they were kissing. I watched, because they looked happy. Then Lathrik got mad and told me to leave. Ren said it was because they wanted to kiss in private."

Siamus hesitates himself. "Ah," he says. "Well. Privacy is, aye. People will — mostly — want privacy for… that sort of thing." He considers it. He is clearly considering it carefully. "Let me… think on it, aye? If I can give ye the… rule for it. Most of these things have rules of sorts, aye? It's a matter of knowing them."

He considers Elle again. "Hartrim told me ye put the motor on his boat. It's a neat piece of work."

Uncertainty floods Joelle's expression at the mention of the motor. "I think I broke something," he says. "On the boat. Putting it on." He doesn't ask, but his gaze forms the question. Did he?

Siamus nods genially. "The rudder. But it's no harm, it's simple enough to replace on a boat that size — could even make do with an oar — and a small thing compared to a fine motor. I expect ye could've helped Hartrim wi'the new one, if ye'd known. Ye might enjoy that sort of thing; shipbuilding's a type of engineering, in the end.

"Myself and my sister and Ralaea are all interested in engineering, here." He pauses. "When I was at your house this week past — you and Ralaea were playing one of your mother's war games together?"

Joelle nods. "My mother is teaching Ralaea strategy. Sometimes she asks me to help. As an example."

"That's good of ye," Siamus says. "How d'ye find she's doing with it? Ralaea, that is."

"I think it's having the desired effect," Joelle dutifully reports. "She is considering consequences more seriously before issuing orders."

Siamus smiles. "Consequences, aye. Not so far her strong suit. Interested in engineering, as I say, but mostly munitions — explosives and so on. She asked me some questions recently about the feasibility of developing certain shipboard guns that made clear she hadn't taken recoil into account at all. Which is a bit… Ralaea in a nutshell, aye? But she's brave and she's clever and she means well, and sometimes she sees a thing in a way someone else wouldn't, or puts a thing plainly in a way someone else wouldn't, and those are fine qualities." He pauses. "I think she's done her share of offending people in her time, but only because they don't know her well."

He tilts his head and studies Joelle. "D'ye know her, d'ye think? With your eye for details? I don't know how much time ye spend together when she's training."

"I don't know her well," Joelle admits. "But I can tell she doesn't hide her thoughts. She is… brave. Stubborn. I don't think even my mother can take that from her."

"Even your mother," Siamus repeats thoughtfully. He studies Elle for another silent moment. "Aye, she is those things. Brave and stubborn. D'ye like her?"

Oh my God Siamus you can't just ask people if they like people.

"Yes," Joelle says without even blinking. "I like you, too." Does he mean like? Does he mean like? It's unclear. Joelle's gaze is as warm and friendly as ever.

Siamus flashes him a smile. He's cool with being liked in whatever ways. "Thank ye kindly, Elle. I like you as well." In whatever ways. "Her Grace and I would also like it if you and Ralaea spent some more time together. I think you'd be good for her, and her for you." In whatever ways.

"Oh," Joelle says. Order received. "Okay. I will."

"If ye want to," Siamus tells him. He raises his brows again to study Elle's face. "May I ask ye a personal question?"

The added clause to the order gives Joelle pause. Does he want to? Calculating… More information needed. He addresses the question instead. "Yes."

Siamus weighs that moment of silent calculation, and perhaps miscalculates it. Or perhaps it is the sidelong glance he takes at Isla, of legendary minuet team Isla-and-Shine, who are their nearest company. "I think," he says thoughtfully to Joelle. "That I'll hold that question for now. Are ye staying for tea after the dance?"

"Finley said maybe Tabiana would come," Joelle says, nodding.

"Aye," says Siamus. "Miss Lynds. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see ye. Good, then. I'll speak with ye then, if I may?"

Joelle nods again, accompanied by the soft jingling ornament.

"Ye look very fine, by the way," Siamus informs him as the last notes of the minuet trail off. He eyes Elle's clothing appreciatively. "And a fine dancer, as well. Been a pleasure." He bows once more.

"Thank you," Joelle says, bowing as well. "You look good, too. The dance was fun." His gaze is a smile.

Siamus smiles back at him.

Colson/Lena

Lena smiles over at Shine with Isla, and then refocuses on Colson. She's dancing with reasonable competence, having taken in the small differences between this and the dance she once knew.

"I've been well," Lena says, following Colson carefully. "I think I've found my place here. As we once talked about, decisions close off one pathway but open another. And you? How have things been?"

"I am glad to hear it, Lena." Colson looks over at Mordecai with a soft smile, and then back to Lena. "We have had some difficulties, much like many. I believe you may have heard that we lost my eldest brother, Amadeus, to the wave in Stormwind, and we lost two of our houses in the Park District, our family townhouse and Mordecai and my house, as well as staff who were in the townhouse at the time. However, we have had each other, and there is still joy amidst the sorrows."

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry to hear it," Lena says, with genuine sympathy. "It was a near thing, here at Fallon House, and we lost people too. I summoned some of our people out of danger - like Rae, she was injured. But we held fast, in the end."

"I am sorry for your losses," Colson says, his voice gentle and sincerity audible even in the well worn phrase. "Ralaea seems well, even better than I hoped to see. How have your studies in the fel been coming along? My mother has been impressed with what the W.E.B. has accomplished."

Lena nods, regaining a bit of her smile with the change in subject. "Yes, I think it's been an extremely valuable initiative. My own studies are progressing. I work mostly alone again, but I am careful to make sure I don't go far astray. I've not done so much with summoning demons as I have with other uses of fel. Travel, fear, and the like. The travel is powerful important here with the fleet, moreso than the demons."

"Oh?" There's an audible sound of interest in Colson's voice. "Between the ships and the land?"

"That's… one thing, yes," Lena says, glancing over toward Aze for some reason. But what she says is, "Sometimes Fallon needs to be ashore for a thing for the House, and then back quickly to the fleet for pressing matters there. I can make such a thing possible. That and… say if things go poorly, it can be a lifesaver, being able to snatch folk to safety."

"Ah, I see," Colson says, his expression a little softer, his eyes showing a smile if it's only faintly on his lips. "That is a remarkable way to use the fel in a non-combat way, beyond a henceforth narrowly seen opportunity to be both useful and profitable for living. I believe that could be greatly encouraging for those seeking to see using the fel as a civilian or in less active combat. I am glad that you seem to have found a path that fulfills you and makes it easier for you to hold to what you want to be as a warlock."

"I am glad as well," Lena says with a nod. "And what of you? Are you still healing for Cobalt? Or has your path changed at all since we last spoke?"

"I am always a healer at heart, and I have come to know myself best in that truth. The path of the Holy Libram is what calls to my soul strongest, much as I have learned more of Retribution, and that aspect of the Light's whole. At the moment, I am healing for Blue Squad with Dane, Cressidha, Sil, and Azizia. We are working in Uldum. It is an extreme desert, and we are being cautious. You might remember how it was in Theramore, when the army had to grow used to operations in the Barrens. The elements are our greatest threat, although that is a touch more literal at the moment, as we are also fighting against the elemental of air."

Lena raises her eyebrows. "The elemental of air? You're saying the lord of it, like Neptulon is of water? Does seem Deathwing's opened all the elemental planes these days. I take it the others are doing well? I know Sil had a bit of a hard time in Northrend, though I admit I had sort of hoped he might come back to the fleet." Because Lena is also now trying to recruit for the Fallon Fleet.

"Yes. Al'Akir, the Windlord, who has allied with Deathwing. We are all well. Dane, if you have not heard, welcomed his second child with Mrs. Atley not long ago. Cressidha is quite happy in the work, as she is able to put a great many of skills into use in the desert. Sil has seemed more content, as well. The allies we are working with are more straightforward. And, of course, it gives him an opportunity to spend time with Cressidha. He is courting her," Colson tells her. "I am afraid I do not know Azizia well enough to speak much of her, but she is doing well as far as I am able to tell."

"Oh, I'd heard about Sil and Cressidha," Lena says with a smile. "And I'd not heard, about Dane - that's wonderful news for him and Ivrianna. I don't really keep in touch with the Atleys, for likely obvious reasons. Of course you must know the Fallons have the recent twins, as well."

"I had heard, yes. Mother sent our House's congratulations. She is a friend of Duchess Esprit, Lady Fallon." Colson moves them gracefully into the smaller circle of the last third of the dance. "My brother Bertrand mentioned that you were in a play recently?"

Lena laughs. "Oh, that was a bit of a lark. A number of people from the house were in it, Isla and Finley among them. I was more supporting the idea than anything, just one of the background villagers. Don't worry, I'm not going to quit my day job. If they ever run it again, maybe you and Lord Mordecai would like to come - there was a nice little message with it, about embracing people who are different."

Colson smiles faintly back. "It is a worthy and good message to support, and to have it be proclaimed, especially now." He lets the music carry them into the last few twirls and spins. "The tenets of the Light guide us towards thinking this way. We are all children of the Light, and there is always a place for everyone within its grace." And there's the paladin, taking precedence over the nobleman.

The music comes to a full end, and the dancers to a stop.

Continued in Part 2