(no subject)

[shelley_winters]

Attempting to put as much distance between herself and Rahvin as he converses with Semirhage without actually seeming to hurry away is trickier than Shelley had thought, and has the side effect of her not paying too much attention to where she ends up.

She doesn't know if he was really trying to scare her, or deadly serious, but each remark he had made was worse than the last as they all built up together with the coldness in that gaze - a gaze which made her blush all by itself, if she's honest - and she really really wants to be alone. But of course she mustn't leave the room. Oh, dear.

Preoccupied this way, it is perhaps for the best that she doesn't notice the curious or fearful looks people give her as she walks by - she has been seen partnering three of the Forsaken, and speaking with two more, who knows who the lady really is, or what she does? So she is left with a little space around her, and manages even to feel a little less crowded when she stops by a small table at the edge of the room.

Comments

[shelley_winters]

Shelley is absurdly grateful for the distraction provided by Lanfear - how can someone look so perfect? - and takes the excuse to turn away slightly, back to the ever-moving whirl of the room, trying not to feel so sad.

She misses him, but that man is not Joar - not even Natael, who in spite of everything, she had ended up liking.

[nights-daughter.livejournal.com]

Lanfear turns to lead him out onto the floor, conscious but not seeming to notice the way people fall back for her with fearful but wondering stares for her beauty and reputation. Soft falls of thin white silk from her sleeves billow in the air and brush the floor as she holds out a slender hand to him.

"I spoke with Ishamael," she says, voice light, eyes soft and penetrating.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

The lace-touched dark grey of his sleeve nearly engulfed his hand as he took hers. How familiar was this? He put his hand on her slender waist as they began to step and turn to the music. His robe billowed with hers, fleeting touches with the white, as they moved.

"Oh?"

[nights-daughter.livejournal.com]

"Yes."

She completes the first turn of the dance before continuing, a smooth and graceful motion, making her skirts swirl out lightly.

"Sadly I had to interrupt his dance to do so, but Rahvin was kind enough to partner his little lady instead."

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

Asmodean held her hand delicately, but with little enthusiasm. His eyes narrowed at her comment. He did not want Ishamael in pursuit of him for a crime he did not commit... nor for one that he did, for that matter.

"I hope that Rahvin behaved himself, lest Ishamael blame us for his misdeeds."

[nights-daughter.livejournal.com]

"As far as I saw, he did - and Ishamael barely reacted. Noticably did not, in fact."

Which is perhaps more curious than constantly watching and frowning. And Lanfear thinks she knows why. She smiles, a hard light in her eyes.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

There was no smile on Asmodean's face. His dark eyes cold as she gently spun Lanfear. She was so very beautiful, but he would hardly let that distract him.

"Ishamael is cunning. Dangerously, so. He may have seen through our ploy."

[nights-daughter.livejournal.com]

"Hardly a ploy, at this stage," she says, unworried. She did not approach the child - unlike Graendal. Her interest had been quite plain.

"Any of the Chosen would be curious, so he does not show what he feels for her. Telling in itself, hmm?"

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

Asmodean shrugged as the two of them danced. His dark-eyed gaze caught Semirhage still speaking with Rahvin. What could those two be discussing at such length?

"I suppose."

[nights-daughter.livejournal.com]

"I think we can continue, given this," she smiles again, arms moving up to circle around his neck in deference to the slow music.

"But perhaps such a discussion is for later."

She can never be too careful, after all. Not with the Chosen.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

His hands gently folded themselves in the small of her back as the song slowed. A smooth, romantic dance as they swayed gently to the music. The low light cast shadows on both his and Lanfear's face.

"Certainly."

Asmodean smiled slightly. There would be much advantage afforded by this. Perhaps, this evening was not a waste, then.