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Wild magic and old woods (Noire and Lady Vi)

Lady Vi

Star
Joined
Mar 19, 2014
Though it was only her first day in the elf city, Lovise was already finding it difficult to think of leaving. Food and drink flowed freely. The wine was not nearly so strong as she was used to, but the food was incredibly delicious. She struggled to maintain self-control every time her steps led her past the refreshment table. The hall was incredibly lovely; it's vaulted columns were hung with elegant silk draperies and the sounds of polite conversation washed over every surface. Every elf in attendance was beautiful and gracious. They bowed and curtsied as if she actually belonged with them. She didn't, of course, and no matter how polite the elves were, Lovise would not have forgotten. She and her brother stood out like sore thumbs. Even the dwarves seemed to fit in better!

Liam was older by four minutes and wanted to be sure that Lovise never forgot that fact. The twins were very different in appearance, though utterly inseparable. Liam was tall and broad-shouldered, a heavy-set man that looked almost like a dwarf with longer legs. His beard was coming in chestnut-brown and bushy (a fact the young man was endlessly proud of) and it hid a strong jaw and sun-reddened cheeks. Both twins were gifted with their mother's eyes: large and so dark as to appear nearly black. Liam's hair was a thick mane a shade redder than his beard. It had taken the elf servants more than an hour to brush it smooth and tie it back. They had given up on Lovise. Her long dark hair was left down in it's natural mess of waves and curls, though they had done an admirable job of trying to tame it. rather than slick her hair back in the fashion of the city, the elves had draped her head in strings of tiny freshwater pearls in an attempt to tame the cascading waves. Coupled with the soft grey silk of her gown and her naturally fair skin, the effect was lovely though nowhere near as elegant as the other ladies in attendance.

Liam's sister was a small woman. She was only a head taller than the dwarves that employed her and even though she was slim, she was very different from the willowy elf women. Lovise was toned and fit, but her wide hips and generous bust gave her curves that had no comparison in the Court. The gown she had been lent fit poorly because of this. The skirts had been gathered and pinned with jeweled broaches but she felt in danger of tripping at every step. It didn't help that she seemed about to 'pop out' of the draped bodice whenever she reached her arm out.

"Elf women have no tits. This dress has no support at all!" She whispered to her brother as he approached, wine glass in hand. "What, where's my drink?"

"I didn't bring you one. Remember Halfjord? You're lucky I let you drink in public at all after that mess." Liam flashed a teasing grin and took a long swallow of the golden liquid.

"Fuck you, it's practically cider. Anyway I'm liable to flash everyone anyway. M' tits are smashed so tight I think I'll tear the dress if I breathe deep."

"Lord 'n lady... Can we not talk about your tits?" The young man grimaced. While Lovise struggled with elven fashion, Liam looked almost natural in the dove-grey vest and leather trousers. Hell, the tunic he wore fit as if it were tailored! Lucky...

"Easy for you t' say, your outfit isn't held together with some pins and a prayer! They wouldn't let me wear bloomers! This silk is so thin I'm surprised I'm not giving the whole room a show." She took the wine out of her brother's hand while he rolled his eyes.

"Gross. I'm going to go find Dualym. He doesn't spend a classy party talkin' about tits." They exchanged sarcastic bows and Liam wandered off, leaving Lovise alone once more. At least now she had wine.
 
"And who, dear lady, is to say that you are not?" the voice was a gentle one, full of muted merriment.

The siblings had had ample opportunity to meet a wide variety of elves in their time in the city of Llandysul. Many favored sedate stylings, elven elegance meeting the waistcoats and trousers of man and dwarf by way of wool, cotton, and leather. Others favored more natural alternatives such as spun silk and woven fiber.

Crystal, pressed leaves, carved beads, slivers of ribbon, pearl, and stone had all been brought out as accessories to these styles, pairing with scant amount of makeup made from a thousand different herbal recipes to set the attendance alight with radiant color and splendor.

None of them, however, quite matched one particular elf in that regard.

The elf who spoke was no great presence by himself, standing scarcely taller than Lovise (at least as far as she could tell, for he was draped over a nearby high-backed chair) and not much broader either. His face was made up with streaks of red paint, but beneath that he was fine-featured and fair-skinned, his glacial eyes standing out in sharp contrast to the crimson of the paint. His hair was the color of spun gold, and it lay in carefully arranged disarray around and across his features, with two sharp ears sticking straight out at an angle.

He wore silks of blue, gold, green, and purple -- a swath of colors and fabric that hid a build that could have been anywhere between fit and lanky. Between two fingers dangled a crystal flute of deepest purple, the drink looking far more interesting than the "goldenwine" of the elven court.

Blue eyes glittered as he took her in. "You humans do have a way about you that so enlivens this place after all," the elf continued. "Pray tell, however. I'm afraid I've never heard the word "tits" before in your language. What might that mean?" he asked. The tone was genial, and he hid his mouth behind the rim of his glass as he took a sip, making it nigh impossible to gauge his seriousness.
 
Lovise turned to the speaker and took a long moment examining his face. She had been introduced to a great many elves tonight and could not decide if they had met yet. She wracked her memory while taking a small sip of her wine. No... They hadn't been introduced. She was certain that she'd remember the colors of his outfit or the paint on his face... Or the glitter in his eyes. Gods below but he looked far more personable than most other attendees.

"Ah, well, it's not a proper word, really." She chuckled and stepped closer so that they were a more appropriate distance. They wouldn't be easily overheard, but she still hesitated. Dualym needed help from the elves and offending them would not help his case. This quest was already taking weeks longer than expected and, though the dark-eyed woman didn't mind terribly, she was beginning to long for it's reward. Still... He couldn't be too terribly important if they hadn't met yet. Right?

"It's a slang term that's not really something you use in polite company. I should probably apologize for letting you hear it." She brought the wineglass to her lips with an unrepentant smile and drained half the glass in a single swallow. "Tits are, y'know, breasts. Bosoms. Kinda vulgar way to say it, I guess."

Was he teasing her? The thought crossed Lovise's mind only after she had spoken. Oh well. He had asked, after all.

"I'm Lovise, though I would wager that you knew that already. Who are you?" She took a half step closer and shifted as if she were going to lean on the next chair over. The motion was halted abruptly when her borrowed gown pulled taut over her chest. Standing upright seemed like her only option. "I'm fair certain that we haven't been introduced; I'd remember you, I think."

Her eyes moved over his face languidly, but she seemed unabashedly fascinated with his hair. The color was unique and practically begged to be touched. Was it was soft as it looked, or was elven hair coarse like tiny metal wires?
 
"How delightful, that you should have so many terms for something so simple," the elf said. "Your language always did fascinate me." He seemed almost a native speaker himself, save for a peculiarity or two. His short As always seemed too long, and he seemed somehow able to drop one too many "L"s into any given word, the only things that betrayed a voice that already seemed so used to the human tongue. "But do not apologize -- you'd be so dreadfully dull if you didn't scandalize at least one or two lords or ladies of this curse."

"You may not wish to wager with me, Lady Lovise. You know me not, and know not what I know not." He paused a moment after the circuitous response, his eyes drawn for a brief moment -- a brief, entirely obvious moment -- to her chest as the silk briefly outlined her... assets.

"You've already lost this wager, in any case, and I eagerly await my reward. I've not the faintest who you are!" the elf said with a brilliant and slightly cavalier smile. He twisted in his seat, pulling the chair out for her with a sweep of his hand.

"My name is Taliesin. I am but a singer of this court -- I heard from my dearest friends and teachers that we might have guests from beyond our city. I was dreadfully curious. Here, come -- take a seat and treat with me. I'm certain you've boundless tales with which to enchant," he said, transitioning his crystal flute from one hand to the other, taking a sip from the deep purple intoxicant.
 
"Ha! We never agreed on a reward." She laughed brightly and took a seat. Her movements were a bit awkward, particularly in comparison to the fine elves of the court. She seemed eager for a friendly conversation, grinning as she sipped her wine. His accent was... Fun. Lovise had heard her fair share of accents in her travels, but his was unique in it's delicacy. She had no trouble understanding him even with the exotic lilt to his voice. "I suppose your reward is my name then. Though getting yours makes it less a reward and more of a trade."

She very nearly asked him to name another 'reward'. Earthy, vulgar humor was second nature to the warrior woman and it took a conscious effort to refrain. Too often her suggestive jokes had been taken for flirting (though they often were flirtatious) and gotten her into trouble. Taliesin was good-looking and seemed clever, and he clearly approved of her body. He was a prime target for her... 'Habit', as Liam called her pattern of getting them chased from towns. The dark-haired woman sighed inwardly. Liam would strangle her if she got into trouble here as well.

"I'm not sure what sort of stories you're hoping for. I'm only a caravan guard, after all. My life is not nearly so grand as you're imagining, I can promise." Her glass was empty as she took the last swallow. Mild disappointment flickered over her features. "I'm sure you've seen far more wondrous things than I have. Most of my time is spent following the horses and digging latrines."
 
"Didn't we? A shame," Taliesin said with a theatrical sigh, brushing his white-gold hair from his eyes as he shifted in his seat, regarding the human woman... not quite warmly as such. His smile seemed genuine, as did the sparkle in his blue-green eyes. But it almost seemed more amusement than anything.

"I am but certain that you have seen more wondrous sights than you believe -- you've been far beyond these woods, and yet I have scarce left these elven glades. I am a singer, Lady Lovise -- these are my halls. Meanwhile, you seem a capable sort -- deft hands, more used to handling swords than crystal flutes," Taliesin said, brushing the tips of his long fingers across the back of her hand. He grasped her gently, pulling her hand up so that he might replace her empty glass with the glass of dark liquid he had been drinking.

"Here -- take from this. It is better than that which they serve in these halls. My own blend," Taliesin said with a wink. He brushed a swath of cloth aside on his hip, revealing the side of a leather flask, a wineskin that seemed heavy upon his hip.

The wine itself smelled more like flowers than alcohol... but it seemed potent, whatever it was. Not as an alcohol, perhaps, but almost as if it was one of the more pleasant sorts of drugs.
 
"I'm no Lady." She quipped as she took the glass and took a sniff. The floral notes were surprisingly strong for such a dark-colored liquor and she didn't detect any real alcohol smell. Tentatively, she took a sip. It tasted the way it smelled, but somehow richer. The flavor lingered on her tongue like a midnight kiss and spread peculiar warmth down her throat. "Hmm, thank you. What is it?"

The tip of her tongue teased over her lips, taking the last drops into her mouth while she struggled to place the flavors. Another sip might help? She took a deeper swallow but had no more luck. The warm feeling spread rapidly through her chest and reminded her of...

"Have you heard of the midwinter celebrations in Alogit? They spend all year brewing great barrels of honey wine and every house has their own recipe with flowers and fruit and herbs. When it freezes the house-mother weaves a basket to scoop out the ice every morning, then they taste the left overs at midwinter and judge who's is best. This reminds me of something I tasted in Halfjord." Her dark eyes lingered for a moment on the glass before looking back at him. Lovise met his eyes for quite a long moment before she glanced over at her brother across the room. He wasn't paying much attention to her, thankfully. "This isn't just wine, is it?"

Before he could answer, she made eye contact one more time and took a long swallow from the glass.
 
"You are not? Yet you acquit yourself with all of their trappings," Taliesin said with a sweep of one hand, gesturing from her freshwater pearls all the way down to the tip of her feet. "I'd be rather distressed in either event to find you more a gentleman than a lady," he quipped, watching with some interest as she sipped of the wine he had given her.

"Nightwine," Taliesin provided with a gesture at the glass. "A formidable concoction of our finest singers. If I may--" He took her empty glass and poured from his flask into the delicate crystal flute, sipping from it in turn.

"I haven't! Something I do so appreciate about some humans. They seem capable of remarkable patience, letting half of their years slip away in the pursuit of a finer drink. But Halfjord does, in fact, ring a bell for me. Did you not have it mentioned to you earlier?" His gaze met her in turn, and flicked over his shoulder when she cast her gaze far afield in search of her brother. So found, Taliesin nodded -- he had thought so.

He turned back to her just in time to see her take the rest of the glass in one fell swoop, an act that saw a moment's concern flutter across his expression. "... I am afraid it is not. Extract of... a-ha, what would it be..."

As he spoke, he seemed to... swim a little bit in front of her eyes. The world took on a lurid haze by degrees, colors seeming ever-so-slightly more vivid, the sensation of touch, of smell, of sight all becoming sharper, brighter... but also hazier in a way, the mesh and throng of stimuli working together to craft a world of eerie and brilliant sensation.

"Extract of Nightvine," Taliesin seemed to sing. "Harvested from a plant one thousand moons in the making."
 
Lovise was very still while the nightwine took hold. The warmth in her chest seemed to bleed outwards until the world itself lost it's edges. She felt as if she were being cradled in invisible feathers, floating on the petals of a rose. The silk of her gown was erotically tender on her skin and when she moved it slid over her thighs distractingly. The wine was clearly NOT just wine, as she had suspected. Lovise licked her lips slowly, savoring the texture of her mouth. Her hand raised of it's own accord and she touched her lips and cheek. Had her skin always been so soft? Her hands did not look quite right. Were they new? No... what a silly thought! Clearly, whatever drug she'd just taken was messing with her sense of reality and the guard had plenty of experience with such events.

"Liam was just scolding me. In Halfjord I attended midwinter. He was there too, but I drank more than he did." She placed her hand palm-down on the table and marveled at the texture of the wood. So smooth! "I danced. A lot. Naked. Only some of the tribes thought it was improper, but Liam was embarrassed. It's not usually something a woman is allowed to do, and I am certainly a woman."

She couldn't help but grin. That night had been fun, at least what she remembered of it. The night seemed more vivid as she told Taliesin about it; though the details were still blurred, the emotion seemed immediate. Perhaps it was the effect of the liquor or the musical cant to his voice. Lord and Lady, was he singing? She couldn't decide if he was or not, but the tone of his voice teased the inside of her skull the way a lover would caress her lower back. It was very distracting.

"I'm no noble lady. None of this is mine. I don't think I've ever worn silk before tonight." She heard her voice saying. Had she thought the words at all? "I like it, but I like my leathers too. Leather covers more. If I wanted a dress this transparent I wouldn't wear anything at all."
 
There seemed to be a glimmer to Taliesin's eyes, a sparkling -- but that could have just been the way they caught the will-o-wisps they used to light the banquet hall, catching his eyes like sunlight through meltwater. Had she looked in a mirror, she might have seen in herself the same --
he had drank for for longer than she. "You danced, hm? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your human dances! Perhaps for the favors your band comes to request of us, we should require a demonstration of your skills!" Taliesin said. "Perhaps you and your brother? I'd ask it if the dwarves, but I fear they would be less entertaining."

The wood was a smooth grain, but far smoother still was the touch of Taliesin's hand upon the back of her own. His other fell to her back as he stood, his motion gentle but firm to bring her with him to her feet.

"Though you may regard yourself ignoble, it certainly does look fetching upon you. We've quite mastered the art of spinning gossamer into something so much greater than its origin," Taliesin said. "Come, come. I admit, I had not expected you to take so deeply of my cup! Perhaps we could step out into the evening chill, it may do you some measure of good," Taliesin said. He was perhaps not as strong as the warrior woman, his hands given more to artistry than to skill with a heavy steel blade, but his gait and his hand were insistent, sweeping her away from the table and away from the watchful gaze of her brother.

"Besides," Taliesin said, his voice the whisper of a song through the trees, his breath brushing against her neck. "As much as I'd love to see your dance, I'd hardly wish for your brother to harp upon you the moment you started having fun."
 
She found herself standing before she had even registered his touch. Gods but he was warm! Or was that her own heat that she felt in his hand? Liam would be furious at her for wandering off, but Lovise was still swimming blissfully in the elfish wine. She simply couldn't care less. The singer was flattering her as he led her away and she wondered very briefly if she should be concerned. Her hand turned under his until they were palm-to-palm and their fingers entwined. Lovise could feel his heartbeat and the joints and tendons that moved under the skin. Delicate, almost fragile! She could break him easily, even drunk, should she need to.

"It wasn't a... Planned dance. Or even something for two people." The woman's voice was soft as she leaned into his guiding arm. He had been whispering, did that mean that she should as well? It seemed a smart choice. "You should ask the dwarves to dance, they're very good at it."

They stepped out into the night and the breeze nearly took her breath away. The wind slid over her and through her dress, caressing every inch that Taliesin was not touching. She gripped his hand tightly as a shiver raced up her spine.

"Oh..." She took deep breaths and allowed the night air to clear her mind somewhat. "I guess I did drink too much. Again. Hmph, Liam would love to have something new to taunt me with. I think it's his favorite hobby. Do you have siblings?"
 
"I've no doubt it was spectacular all the same," Taliesin said. "Though I do wonder how well these dwarves dance. They seem so sturdy and so full of cheer," Taliesin said. "It would almost be unfair to the rest of us for them to be graceful as well." It was... impossible to tell whether or not Taliesin was being sarcastic, his tone as measured and even and as lovely as it had been when he had started speaking with her.

He gripped her hand in turn as they made their way out into the night chill -- it was enough to rock through him as well, icy tendrils of winter reaching back through the autumn night to remind them of its coming. He stepped closer to her, his hand slipping out of hers to instead find itself on her lower back, pressing himself close to her hip so as to sequester some warmth between their bodies.

"I've a younger brother with the king's guard," Taliesin said. "We do not speak much of it, I'm afraid our relation is of great embarrassment to us both. I've no great skill with the sword, and he hasn't the slightest idea of what to do with his tongue, poor thing." He cast a sidelong glance at Lovise as he led her along the balcony that spread around the entire edge of the palace. The flooring was smooth and perfectly level, the railing made of braided wood -- wood that twisted upon itself like a rope, running in a continuous loop. It had not been carved, comprising two entirely different types of lumber.

In short, an impossibility without magic.

The city spread out far before them, will-o-wisps dancing in the trees and along the streets, infusing the city with a deep sense of secrecy and sorcery, lighting the city in rebellion against pervasive twilight.

"What did bring you and your brother here to our city, Lady Lovise?" Taliesin asked, settling one hand on the edge of the balcony as the other kept to her hip.
 
Lovise stood silently beside him, taking in the serene view of the city. The euphoric effects of the wine were dulled a bit by the chill and she felt a tiny smidge disappointed. Planned or not, it had been quite the sensation! Looking to the city, however, she felt the disappointment fading into awe. Stars. The elves had captured stars to light their town. A soft sigh of wonder passed from her lips. Never in all her wandering had the human woman seen anything quite so elegant. Hell, the Lord's Hall back home looked damned gaudy now! The heat from his body passed through her silk gown and spread across her skin like oil on water from every place their bodies met. It was far from unpleasant. The small woman leaned into him without fully intending to, soaking in his warmth.

"What did bring you and your brother here to our city, Lady Lovise?" His question pulled her back into the moment.

"Hmm? A map, actually. Glourim bought some old map that leads to a hoard or something in Hrogh Logthwian." She leaned on the railing, breaking contact as she stared out at the lights; her arms rested on the wood and strained her poor dress even further. Surprisingly, the brutish human pronounced the name of the dwarven city with ease. Likely by virtue of her traveling companions. "There's an incantation on the lock, and whoever made the map wrote the instructions in old elvish, so we came here. He said that his grand-dad did some favors for your king or whatever. Anyway, Liam an' I have been muscle for Glourim's caravans before, so he offered us this job. I'm not sure there'll be any gold at the end, but it sure beats escorting a tax-collector through slums."
 
It was a warmth that Taliesin likewise found himself enjoying, allowing her to lean fully against him, his hand falling across her opposite hip as they stared out over the faerie fire, fleeting and iridescent as they were. His hand brushed across her, feeling the curve of warm and lovely flesh beneath the dress.

"A map, hm?" Taliesin asked, turning his hip against the railing as she broke contact with him. His eyes slipped downward, watching as the lights -- faint as they were from such a distance -- reflected themselves off of the woman's dark eyes, and brought out the undertones in her skin. In an elf like him, there was naught but silver to be found that way. On humans, there were so many tones of gold and amber and bronze to be found, setting her in stark relief to the fine-featured sylvan man.

"Truly? That does seem like it would be quite the find. Hrogh Logthwian... aha, that name does ring a bell. Though to my mind, I might think that there are other treasures than gold to be found there. But I speculate idly," Taliesin said.

He reached toward her, his fingers brushing briefly across her jawline, ever-so-slightly tilting her head back and away from the lights that had enraptured her so.

"I do think that you'll find good fortune in this journey. You're already off to a good beginning, looking so radiant in your silken vestments. Perhaps that is just my impression, though. After all, I've not seen you free of it."
 
His touch on her cheek was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Looking at him, Lovise was struck by the thought that he had been carved from moonlight. Moonlight and stars, frozen and chipped and polished by some master sculptor. Frozen and yet warm. Taliesin's fingers were so feather-light but so insistent that she felt momentarily overwhelmed by just that gentle touch. Clearly there was still a bit of the wine lingering in her body.

"I sure hope the trip brings us good fortune! It's a whole city, they tell me. Dead underground." She struggled to shake herself out of the fog, but she didn't know why exactly. The last shred of her rational mind was screeching for attention, but why? "Some plague took the majority of the dwarves that lived there. the rest fled, I think. Or they died too, I don't rightly know. Either way, the city's untouched and just waiting 'cause the last of the dwarves sealed the gate to get in. A whole city of dwarven gold, plus the scrolls an' all that. Glourim's promised us each a sack to fill as we wish if we get him there and back, but honestly I think we all just want to see the city. I know there's talk of gold-mad dwarves, but Glourim's a good man, he loves to tell all these stories... I bet he just wants one more."

She was rambling, still too wine-addled to think of much more than his tender fingers and the ethereal glow to his skin. Even without the magical lighting Taliesin would have been handsome enough to cause a stir, but the magic of the city seemed to enhance everything. It wasn't only that he was handsome, but the city was gloriously lovely and the cold breeze was exquisitely refreshing. The wine was delicious and the music was masterful... Even her too-tight dress was- wait, was that the thing she couldn't focus on? The niggling feeling of 'missing' in the back of her head? What had he said again?

"I've not seen you free of it."

"Would you like to?" She asked thoughtlessly, more question than offer. The nightwine clearly still had Lovise impaired. Her dark eyes glittered as she examined the elf again. Had he truly been flirting and she'd missed it?
 
"How magnificently terrible," Taliesin said. "It sounds like it was visited upon by some horrific curse, does it not?" Of course, a hex that powerful would make any trip to the city a fool's errand... of course, the disease could always have been natural. He did not spend long pontificating on it when there were far more pleasant things that presently wished to occupy his thoughts.

His touch was insistent once it had begun -- a constant contact, brushing over her hip or across her cheek, feather light touches that reveled in the way the silk and the smoothness of her skin felt. It was almost a foreign texture to the elf. Skin that ran ever-so-slightly warmer, toughened by the sun and hard work rather than preserved in the light of the moon and the faeries.

Would you like to?

The words seemed to cause his eyes to widen, his smile ever-so-briefly faltering, a microcosm of an expression that he swiftly hid behind a more mischievous smirk. Perhaps he had meant that he had not seen her in her daily attire, in the leathers to which she professed to be so accustomed. Of course... what he had meant in his flowery manner of speech was as immaterial as the dress that clung to her every delicious curve, for his eyes certainly clung as well, held ransom by a beauty that was as foreign to him as he was to her.

"I daresay I would, Lady Lovise," Taliesin said. He stepped that much closer to her, the heady scent of the nightwine there upon his breath as he leaned into her.
 
She caught his fragile shift in expression and clearly saw the way his eyes wandered. She had no question left at all. It was perfectly plain that this elf singer was interested and, if she was honest with herself, Lovise was interested in him as well. He my not have skill with a sword, but Taliesin's brag about knowing what to do with his tongue had her intrigued. It could be just a misunderstanding, but as Lovise leaned closer, she felt herself doubting it very much. They were so close now that she could taste the wine on his breath. It sped her pulse to a racing clip, or perhaps that was his touch on her back? Their lips were bare inches apart, Lovise moving up on tip-toe to close the gap, and...

"There you are! come on, Glourim's gonna show the map!" Liam burst through the door and onto the balcony with all the grace of an aurochs. Lovise stepped away instantly from her elven companion, giving him barely a glance before focusing her starry gaze on her brother. Liam's expression changed to suspicion instantly. "Fuck. You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Only a little! I had two glasses!" She protested, stepping away even further from the golden-haired man. "You've probably had WAY more."

"Hng. Who are you?" Liam focused on Taliesin, jaw set firmly.
 
Taliesin closed around her, slender hands holding tightly to Lovise's lower back. His white-gold hair fell in a curtain on either side of her head as he leaned over her, highlighted by the faerie fires that cast them into an iridescent sheen. He leaned in for the kiss and--

By the rigidity in his frame, it was perhaps obvious in that half second that even with the sudden intruder... Taliesin had been so enthralled that he did not care, leaning into the space Lovise hastily vacated... catching himself where he was briefly unbalanced. He transitioned (almost) smoothly, stepping lightly to the side to place his back against the railing, hands splayed against the smooth wood. He had all the grace of a cat -- it wasn't that he didn't make mistakes, it simply seemed by his serene expression that he would refuse to be embarrassed about them, much less acknowledge them.

Taliesin favored Liam with a smile. Goodness was the man tall. He could only imagine the same muscle of the lady before him, but scaled up -- and it was enough to force a fluttering nervousness that Taliesin scarce allowed to reach his face.

"I am Taliesin, humble singer of the elven court. How do you do, Lord Liam?" Taliesin asked. It was the same innocuous greeting he had given Lovise, but it was very likely that Liam had paid more attention in the elven city and in the court, specifically. Enough, perhaps, to know that "singer" was more properly "Singer", and held mystic connotations even amongst the elves.

Of course, perhaps not.

Taliesin found either eventuality amusing.
 
"A Singer..." Liam grunted and eyed the elf with open suspicion. it was plain from the wary look in his dark eyes that the human was far more versed in matters of the elven courts than his sister. "Well, maybe you should come along to see the map. Your king said it was written in some old tongue meant for... your types."

The brute of a man rolled his shoulders and gave the elf a long examining look. He took in the starry-eyed expression on both Taliesin and Lovise, the vacant balcony, and lastly the flask at the elf's hip. At least Lovise wasn't the one getting the elf drunk. This time. Liam's sister had a talent for making friends, unfortunately they were usually male friends of noble standing. This could, and did, cause quite a headache for the two humble children of a blacksmith. Lovise's charm was actually the reason for them leaving home in the first place after all: she had the unhappy luck of catching the Lord's son's eye. Their romance had been blessedly brief, but... Well, the wealthy had a way of making life hard for their 'lessers'. Liam and Lovise had left town rather than submit to the cruelties of a spurned ex-lover.

"Come on, before Glourim gets tired of waiting." Liam motioned with his thumb and walked back towards the ballroom. " B'sides, if you catch cold you'll have me covering your chores for a week."

Lovise turned to follow her brother with only a brief glance back at her golden-haired elf. Her dark brown eyes were heavy with expression and Taliesin would have to be both stupid and blind to miss the longing in them. She beckoned him to follow and paused at the door to see if he came along. If he did choose to come with them, she would wait until Liam was far enough inside to be out of earshot before whispering to the Singer.

"Your king put us up in guest rooms on the Lake-side wing." She met his eyes and wondered if telling him this was a mistake. Or if she even cared. "My room is the last on the left, by the golden vase."
 
Taliesin inclined his head to Liam as the human repeated the title. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Liam. It would be my pleasure to have been of use to both of our fine human guests,” Taliesin said with a smile that was positively beatific and benevolent.

And perhaps just a tiny bit goading.

Taliesin fell into step behind the siblings at Lovise’s look and gesture. At his core was curiosity, a trait that had set him apart from many elves. It had seen him to trouble and fortune, striking out boldly and then letting fate take its course.

It did seem to wind its way on interesting directions this night, an idle curiosity taking on shape in the shapely and unexpected Lovise.

His hand brushed across Lovise’s arm and thence down to the side of her silk clad hip as he was about to pass her, and his meltwater eyes took in the fullness of her once again. He squeezed her gently and favored her with a sidelong smile in affirmation.

“Until then, Lady Lovise,” Taliesin whispered before he made his way into the ballroom behind the hulking Liam, stepping lightly as he filtered back into the crowd, taking the long way up and around to where the king and his advisers would hold dominion over those that had come to enjoy the day’s festivities.
 
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