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Tataru pinned the last of N’adana’s red curls in place, making sure the miqo’te’s thick hair stayed in place before stepping back to admire her handiwork. “There, that’s the last of them!”
N’adana stood from her spot on the floor, carefully picking up the skirts of the dress Count Edmont had commissioned to be custom-made for the Warrior of Light. It was tulle of muted light green with impossibly puffy sleeves that hung off her shoulders and cinched in at her wrists.
N’adana had insisted that Count Edmont needn’t go through all the trouble after the Scions had received an invitation from Ser Aymeric, graciously asking them to attend a celebratory ball. “This is your first Ishgardian ball, my dear! I must make sure the guests of my house are well taken care of.” He had been ragged the past few weeks, his eyes bloodshot and his mannerisms sluggish, which one were to expect, considering the loss of…
“Besides,” he had smiled softly at her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “you are akin to a daughter to me – a daughter I have never had. Please, allow me this.”
The lalafell had been pampering her all afternoon, doing her makeup and picking out jewelry in a rush of excitement. “Tataru, you needn’t-“
“Hush, you! Come here, I have one final touch.” N’adana obediently knelt back down as Tataru pulled out a length of silk ribbon, the same color and fabric as the layers that were sewn to the innermost layers of her skirt. “I asked the seamstress for a scrap of this gorgeous fabric! I thought it would look pretty if you used it like a necklace!”
N’adana surrendered a smile at the thoughtfulness of her friend. Tataru leaned up to tie the ribbon delicately around her throat, tying it in a manicured bow and adjusting it to perfection. “Perfect! Oh, N’adana, you look absolutely beautiful! Go look for yourself!” Her hands flew up excitedly as the miqo’te stood again and made her way over to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room.
Her breath caught as she got her first full look at herself all afternoon, and for a moment she didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at her. If you took away her armor and put her in something light, it turns out the Warrior or Light was almost delicate. Her red hair was tamed and curled into manicured ringlets, tucked back and pinned in ways that framed her round face. The warm green of her dress matched her eyes, and by the Twelve, Tataru had even put makeup on her. The scars on her arms from countless battles were blurred and hidden by the semi-translucent fabric of her sleeves, and for a moment she felt like a normal teenager. She got to dress up in a pretty gown and let loose, even for just a single night. She could convince Thancred to try a sip of his champagne before finding Alphinaud in the crowd and making silly faces at him while he tried to have political conversations with Ishgardian nobles.
Just for tonight, she could just be a kid at a party.
She had requested as much from Ser Aymeric when they arrived, who graciously agreed and allowed this one night of solace for the young Warrior of Light. When he introduced the Scions to the crowd that night, he did so as a group, his short speech vague enough to leave it up to interpretation which one of them was truly the famed Warrior of Light.
Thankfully, most of the speculation fell to Thancred, who was more than eager to soak up the attention of the beautiful noblewomen that held onto his arm and offered him drinks. No one paid any mind to the elezen twins and the young miqo’te who were thankful to shirk their duties for the night. None of those plucky teenagers could possibly be the Warrior of Light, or so the crowd assumed, so at least they were free for the time being. The trio spent the evening stuffing their face with food, though Alphinaud periodically ran off to speak with some stranger or another. Alisaie and N’adana kept close to the edge of the ballroom, seated on a plush bench under an elaborate curtain of blue fabric.
“He was waxing poetic about how beautiful you look tonight, you know.” Alisaie mentioned, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth and raising an eyebrow at N’adana. She was dressed for the occasion, too, in a dress of red velvet that was comfortable enough to allow her still-healing wounds to be bandaged and unrestrained underneath her loose bodice.
“Ah, I… figured. He was stuttering like an idiot when he saw me.” N’adana admitted sheepishly, the answer making Alisaie tilt her head in surprise. “We talked about it when we were traveling with Estinien and Ysayle.” She answered the question before it was asked, her voice catching on Ysayle’s name as she remembered her late friend.
“And?” Alisaie prompted further, an eagerness in her voice at the prospect of her brother having manned up enough to tell her about his affections.
N’adana shrugged, “I don’t feel the same, and I told him as much,” she admitted quietly, leaning back against the wall and picking a skewered cube of lamb from her plate, expensively seasoned and impossibly moist. She conveniently left out the why, especially since Alisaie was becoming such a close friend after rejoining them. It wasn’t as if she was crushing on her, exactly, but she feared her friend would look at her differently if she knew that she didn’t hold affections for any man. She never would.
Once Alisaie realized she wasn’t getting any more answers out of N’adana, she begrudgingly dropped the topic. “I would not wish my brother’s incessant nagging on anyone. I pity the woman whom he manages to charm one day,” she chuckled, popping another sweet morsel into her mouth. Her entire plate was filled with cakes and chocolates, and N’adana worried the elezen would make herself sick with all the sugar she was shoveling down her throat.
“Did you eat any real food today?” N’adana teased.
“Yes, mother.” Alisaie rolled her eyes, side-eyeing the miqo’te as she popped another chocolate into her mouth.
N’adana just chuckled and reached over to swipe one of the many assorted chocolates off Alisaie’s plate, who protested fiercely as the warrior bit down on the caramel-filled dessert. “…Want to go sucker Thancred into letting us try the champagne?”
A conspiratorial grin spread across Alisaie’s face, but before she could answer, Tataru strolled up in her pink taffeta gown and caught them red-handed. “No you don’t!” The lalafell reprimanded them with her hands on her hips.
“We just want a sip, Tataru!” N’adana hummed towards her favorite secretary, but Alisaie left her out to dry.
“I was going to decline. I am wont to partake in the sinful liquid.” Alisaie dramatically turned up her nose, which only made N’adana scoff in disbelief.
What a traitor!
However, Tataru wasn’t one to fall for Alisaie’s antics. “Likely story! How about instead of scheming and getting yourselves into trouble, would it kill you to, I don’t know, try dancing?”
N’adana grinned, putting her food to the side and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Well, if someone were to ask me to dance, mayhaps I would.”
A courel-like smile spread across Tataru’s face, holding out her hand towards the Warrior with poise and formality. “Miss N’adana Vhet, may I ask that you accompany me in a dance?”
This is worse than the time she cornered me in that game of Triple Triad, N’adana thought to herself begrudgingly as she took Tataru’s hand and let her lead them to their doom. N’adana leaned down to take Tataru’s hands, and despite the few first, awkward steps, they decided to drop the silly formalities and simply sway with each other as they giggled and twisted their hips, pushing and pulling opposite hands back and forth in the most clumsy manner, surely unfit for such a high-class event.
Soon enough, N’adana felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and was greeted by Thancred, his hair tied back and adorned in a sleek, black tuxedo. “I don’t mean to be rude, but may I steal your dance partner?” He asked politely, a characteristically roguish grin on his face as he glanced down at Tataru.
“Of course, Ser Waters.” N’adana chuckled, watching as Thancred simply picked Tataru up in one arm and swayed around the dance floor with her, likely talking about something or another in a manner that was fairly inconspicuous.
However, this left N’adana partnerless in the middle of the dance floor. Despite the truth of her title being hidden for tonight, there were plenty of Ishgardian nobles who would jump at the chance to speak with one of the Scions and try to speak about politics or trade deals or what-have-you.
Luckily, N’adana was saved as Alphinaud wordlessly grabbed her hand and pulled her into step with him, narrowly dodging a young elezen man who was nervously approaching her. “I apologize for not requesting a dance formally, but I am sure you shall forgive me once you learn that I spoke with that same man earlier – his entire countenance smells of onions.” Alphinaud crinkled his nose as he spoke lowly.
“You are forgiven, Alphinaud.” N’adana chuckled, fumbling as her friend patiently showed her a simple enough dance that didn’t make them look like utter fools. She watched his feet as best she could, clad in polished boots. The rest of him was adorned in a classy, thigh-length coat and fitted trousers. Alphinaud chattered about the various characters he had spoken with that night, sprinkling in jokes and the like, since he knew N’adana cared nothing of politics and nobility.
“Your sister told me what you said about me, you know.”
Alphinaud stumbled, catching himself awkwardly as he stuttered and tried to properly formulate a response. “I swear to the Twelve and all that is good-” he managed, shooting a harsh glance towards the bench where Alisaie had been sitting, but she was no where to be found.
“I’m glad she did.” N’adana smiled, trying to ease his worries. “Thank you, Alphinaud. I’m not afforded the luxury of feeling beautiful very often, so it’s… nice to hear sometimes, even if secondhand.”
Alphinaud lowered his gaze, searching her emerald eyes for any sense of mocking, but he found none. “I promise that you are beautiful all the time, even in the thick of battle.” He was nervous, but both their feelings had been let out in the open already. He would rather she know than to let herself believe that no one thought her beautiful.
N’adana blushed, her ears twitching and making the jewelry she wore jingle quietly at the sudden motion. “I appreciate it, Alphinaud,” she squeezed his hand, “You’re such a good friend, I’m sorry that I cannot return-“
Alphinaud cut her off with a shake of his head. “There is naught to apologize for, my friend. All I could ask for is to see you happy and safe.”
N’adana sighed, closing her eyes for a few moments and letting herself follow the pattern they had repeated enough for her to follow it with ease. “And I for you, Alphinaud. I’m going to do everything in my power to see that you and the rest of our friends will always be so.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and despite her delicate appearance, the fierceness of her personality and conviction shone through in her promise.
An affectionate smile graced Alphinaud’s face, but before he could respond, Alisaie appeared behind N’adana and tapped her shoulder. “I believe you have hogged our friend for long enough, hm?” She raised an eyebrow at her brother, “May I?”
N’adana took Alisaie’s outstretched hand, giving Alphinaud a wave before letting Alisaie lead, as she was wont to do. “I apologize if I did not rescue you from his incessant chattering fast enough,” she chuckled.
“He hadn’t mentioned anything about promising trade deals opening in Ishgard for a few minutes, so you were actually more timely than you think. I’m sure he would have started up again at any moment.” N’adana returned her friend’s quip with a giggle of her own, “But really, it was a nice conversation. I don’t like to throw my friends under the carriage, unlike someone at this party.”
Alisaie gasped in mock offense, “You cannot be talking about me! How rude!” Her braid swished back and forth as they waltzed, and N’adana quietly noticed she had replaced her normal ribbon with a strand of velvet that matched her dress. N’adana simply laughed again, bright and carefree, before Alisaie spun her around and let her dress twirl around her.
“Now that Tataru isn’t around to chastise us,” N’adana glanced around to make sure they weren’t going to be caught by their chaperone for the second time that night, “now would you like to find someone who will let us try that champagne? I’m sure we’ll never have the opportunity to try something that expensive ever again.”
Alisaie nodded eagerly as they snuck away from the dance floor, finally tracking down Thancred and suckering him into grabbing a flute of champagne for the pair. “Fine, fine. Just this one, for both of you,” he insisted before returning to a particularly pretty elezen woman with jet black hair and impossibly long eyelashes. The two nodded in understanding, knowing Thancred would find out one way or another if they hadn’t done what they promised.
Narrowly avoiding Tataru, the pair plucked Alphinaud mid-conversation with the man who smelled of onions and found a fairly quiet place to themselves – a balcony on the second floor of Aymeric’s estate, which looked out onto the city of Ishgard. The stars lit up the sky as they watched the city below them bustle with evening activity, passing the flute of champagne between the three of them as they gossiped and giggled with one another.
It wasn’t long before they became chilled after the heat of dancing wore off, but Alphinaud jumped up and returned moments later with a blanket and Ser Aymeric de Borel himself.
“I am full glad to see the three of you enjoying yourselves,” the Lord-Commander handed them a luscious fur blanket, which Alisaie wrapped around their collective shoulders, keeping N’adana in the middle, for she had the thinnest attire between the three of them. The elezen man bowed to the young Scions, “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Giving us this was more than enough of a gift, Ser Aymeric. Thank you.” N’adana smiled up at him, content for the moment. Her actions as Hydaelyn’s Chosen put such a kind-hearted and capable man in charge of a city that had become so dear to her. The Lord-Commander smiled softly at them before taking his leave, making sure the door to the balcony was cracked open so that they could return whenever they wished, if at all.
The party went on without the Warrior of Light and her beloved Levellieur twins, too busy trading stories and wondering about how the city below them would grow and move on from the Dragonsong War. Alphinaud and N’adana told Alisaie about Haurchefant and his boundless loyalty, and Alisaie in turn spoke of the faces she had met on her adventures without them. They stayed like this long into the night when the moon was high in the sky and the streets below them had quieted, leaving them in a silence that was only filled by their laughter and friendship.