Melancholy

Writers: Eimi, Yvonne
Date Posted: 21st January 2006

Characters: Penryn, Thalia
Description: Neither Penryn nor Thalia feel like dancing, but end up dancing all the same
Location: Garnet Valley Hold
Date: month 9, day 6 of Turn 3

Thalia had excused herself from the mass of dancers, pleading a headache but not quite ready to return to her empty apartments and lock out the celebration. The harpers had been joined by a few talented souls with drums, whistles, and a piper who wheezed his way through jigs, waltzes, and flings with more enthusiasm than skill. The Hold residents, decked out in their Gather best, swirled together and laughed raucously like a flock of firelizards. Flashing gold and garnet, soft velvets and trailing ribbons, and the shine of polished leather and belt buckles glinted off candles and the electric lights, and she still felt...
distant. Dissatisfied.

Like weeping.

Both her aunt and her uncle were now dead, along with the husband that had brought her to this foreign Hold as Lady Holder, and now she was... what? **A burden,** she thought dismally as she waved off a drudge carrying a tray precariously balanced with wine glasses. The woman shrugged, exposing another finger width of her bosom as she did so. "Suit yourself, m'lady. Although there's not a few men about with that glint in their eye!"

"What glint?" Thalia asked, but the drudge winked at her and grinned, exposing a gap where she was missing a tooth. She walked away with a saucy bounce to her step and pinched the bottom of a pimply Journeyman, making him yelp and blush, before she melted into the raucous crowd.

Penryn too had retreated to the corners once the dancing had begun. He had noticed more than a few smiles directed his way in his new Gather finery, but he pretended not to notice. His promotion to Steward had suddenly turned him into an eligible match in many an eye. It was not something he was comfortable with. Not yet. Perhaps he just needed time to get used to the idea. Until then, he was more than content to hide and blame his lack of dancing on his bad leg.

When a gap toothed drudge offered him a glass of wine, his first impulse was to refuse. Then he caught the profile of one who _should_ be enjoying the party, but obviously wasn't. He pulled two glasses off the tray with a quick thank you and walked towards her. "It's turned into a beautiful night, Lady Thalia. You did the Hold proud."

Thalia looked up in surprise, then accepted the wine glass with a smile. "Thank you. I'm just glad that everyone is enjoying themselves."

"They are. I've seen nothing but smiles and finery since the start of the night." Except, notably, on her face. Of course she always looked proper, but somehow he could tell that under all the smiles there was a sadness staring out from her light blue eyes. It was no wonder considering the news they had received before the festivities had even begun. "And you, Lady Thalia? How are you doing?"

"Oh, well enough." She raised the glass to her lips to give herself a chance to compose a proper reply. Somehow it was harder to lie to Penryn than to everyone else; he had the kind of face that inspired the truth.
"Just fine. And yourself? I haven't seen you dancing yet."

"I have a bad leg," he shrugged. "And you? Why don't you dance?"

She looked down at her hands, clutched around the stem of the wineglass. "I don't much feel like dancing."

"That's a very honest answer," Penryn said with a slight smile. Honest and rather bold in the best of senses. He appreciated her frankness. It was more than he had offered her. "Is it your aunt?"

Thalia looked over at the dancers, at the swirling skirts and ribbons and the flash of silver at the cuffs, or throat, or wrist. She pursed her lips. "Perhaps. Perhaps melancholy is simply the order of the evening."

"Not for them, it seems," Penryn replied with a tilt of his head in the dancers and revelers direction. "The Hold is now in Ishek's hands. The great preparations have been made. The plans have been put into action and are a success." He turned back to her with a knowing half smile. "Sometimes its even more suffocating when you finally have the chance to catch your breath."

"No. It's just beginning." She looked back at the wineglass in her hands. "Or it never really ended, just changed. And we smile and smile and everything ought to be all right..." She sipped at her wine and was a little ashamed when it turned into a nervous gulp. She'd had too much wine already. "And you? What will you do now?"

Penryn absently swirled his wine around in his glass, pretending to appreciate its color and bouquet. "The same as I always have done. I will work. The job might have changed, but my... dedication to the task has not." Even Penryn could hear just how pitiable that sounded.

Thalia turned to give him a long look. "Maybe you should dance."

His blue eyes met hers for a moment before he lifted his glass and drained it in one long fortifying drink. "I'm thinking the same thing." He reached over and gently took the glass from her hand. "Lady Thalia, would you dance with me?"

Thalia's eyes went wide. "M-me?" Her voice squeaked a little, and she clutched at her skirts since Penryn had taken her glass. "Everyone else I know is dancing. Just one moment." Penryn walked over to a nearby snack table and deposited the glasses on the garnet table cloth. He took a moment for a couple deep breaths. It had been turns since he had danced. Turning back towards the Lady, he held out his arm to her. "Shall we?"

Thalia hesitated, then stood. It wouldn't do to be sitting all evening. People would talk. "I'd love to," she said, and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. **And there's no one else I'd rather dance with...**

Last updated on the January 21st 2006

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Melancholy