shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Zera sits awkwardly and alone at the edge of the plaza. Joar had danced with her first, for a while, but no gentleman could ignore the many requests to dance he had recieved from other girls, she supposes.

Between her fingers she twirls the white flower that had adorned her hair earlier. He had given it to her, and just as he had said, it had neither wilted nor faded. She looks at it quietly, firelight making the white petals glow golden.

Beside her, a laughing woman runs up to a man who kisses her fondly on the cheek. In return, she holds up an ivy wreath, smiling slyly at him and waving it teasingly between the two of them. Zera glances away, embarrassed, as he grabs for the both wreath and the woman's hand, pulling her close.

She feels terribly out of place.

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Slowly, Joar emerged from the crowd of people. Shifting and moving towards her, his face lighting up as he glanced down at Zera. Dark eyes studying her carefully as a small smile bloomed on his face.

"My lady?"

She looks up, smiling.

As firmly as she had convinced herself that she was fine by herself, watching the dance, his return is a relief.

"Hello."

Brushing his dark hair back from his face, Joar gave her an apologetic nod.

"I must apologize. I had to be about business, but if you are so willing, I have time to myself."

A pause as again, he offered out his hand. A small gesture really. His hand barely visible in the shadows cast by his body obscuring the torchlight.

"May I request a dance from my lady?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

The cheerfully conversational tone of her voice is belied by the delighted smile on her face as she puts her hand in his. The other hand carefully and firmly replaces the still fresh flower in her hair.

A chuckle as he took a step closer to her. His voice low and soft as he speaks.

"Of course, my lady. I would never presume such a matter. My company has always been my lady's choice to accept or refuse at her whim."

She laughs softly.

"I doubt I will be, um- changing whims..."

She stands very straight when they dance, reaching up to his shoulder in a way that should probably feel silly. It doesn't to her.

The music and the intoxicating atmosphere of the evening fill the plaza. Joar had to avoid running into Lord Gilor and his Lady Urase as both of them had been imbibing perhaps a little too much before taking to the dance floor, the wreath of ivy in his hair in danger of falling off. Joar simply shook his head, and chuckled.

The white flower in Zera's hair seemed to glow orange in the torchlight. A soft smile at her as he danced. His arm around her waist as he moved with a practiced elegance.

"Good, because I am rather fond of your current flight of fancy, as well as your company."

She can't help laughing at the extravagance of the lord and lady that wave cheerfully at all and sundry between steps as Joar steers them deftly away.

Her feet move uncertainly, but with the music and as he guides her, and it's really not so difficult though she doesn't remember ever dancing before.

"So am I of yours."

Dancing closely to her, his body almost against hers, Joar said very little to her. He didn't really feel he needed to. He hoped she was enjoying this, because he certainly was.

As the two of them danced, and the shadows fell across the two of them, he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

She smiles at his chest, which is where her eyeline currently is, then up at him. Mercifully, the instant blush is lost in the flickering golden light of the plaza.

Dancing with him is wonderful. The people surrounding them no longer matter in the least.

Slowly, the song finished, not all the musicians at the same time. Joar knew that they had been drinking between songs, and a number of songs had finished by now. He winced regardless.

As was tradition, Joar stepped away from Zera and gave a deep, graceful bow.

Zera blinks and copies the motion, stepping back and bowing before she notices Joar's slight chuckle. The girl hastily grabs her skirts and turns it into an awkward curtsey.

Between them, suddenly, a small blonde head pops up.

Niane is chewing her lip nervously, and she seems a little jumpy, but she looks up at Joar with a hopeful gaze.

"L-lord Joar? Please might I d-dance with you?"

The request comes out in a rush as if she is afraid she might forget what to say if she lingers.

Joar leans over past Niane and nods to Zera calmly. His voice calm and composed.

"Excuse me, my lady."

Righting himself, Joar gave a calm nod to Niane. His voice as level as ever.

"Yes, Lady Niane, you may."

Zera nods back quietly, stepping back to watch.

She isn't sure how to acknowledge Niane, but the girl hasn't spoken to her, so there is no need to, she supposes.

Niane smiles nervously as the musicians confer briefly and then begin the next piece of music.

She gives a slightly wobbly curtsey, as she is vaguely aware is protocol.

Joar answers with an extraordinarily graceful bow. He had his appearances to maintain.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Niane?"

With complete composure, he offered his hand.

She takes it shyly.

"Um. I just... well, I wanted to."

The young girl giggles, covering her mouth with one hand before remembering the proprieties and placing it - with a little effort to reach - on his shoulder.

A dark chuckle as he keeps his hand on her waist, again with some difficulty. A touch of amusement in his voice.

"Fair enough, I suppose."

The girl's dancing is a little erratic, though she plainly knows the steps. She has to suppress the near-constant urge to giggle.

He's dancing with her. And she had only had to ask him and he had said yes without even a thought!

Niane stumbles briefly, but catches herself and keeps dancing.

Joar danced calmly, confidently. The young girl's mistakes calmly ignored and compensated for. He was rather used to this. Ever since he had been a famous composer, he had danced with all manners of people. Niane Tesmani was not the worst dancer of the evening, that honor belonged to Lady Ruihas, who was now, quite elderly and was very inebriated. She had stepped on his foot more than once.

Nor was she the youngest, last year, he danced with Lady Telria's two year old daughter. He had to hold her in his arms to dance with her. This was all expected of him, and he honestly did not mind the attention. He was a famous composer, it was to be expected.

So, Joar took his dance with little Niane Tesmani in stride. It seemed to make the young girl deliriously happy. Why not? It was but a small amount of his time.

Happy indeed, although the slight tipsiness that had led the girl to ask him for a dance in the first place is showing its tiring effect upon her.

She beams happily, evening clearly made, but Niane thinks she should maybe be one of the first to retire from the dancing.

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