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Antivan Crows should have an appreciation for and practice in the arts, for to weild a blade one should master a craft too. And Zythrid decided to master the Antivian dances. It helped distract her in the beginning of her life being a part of the de Riva house, despite her being an Elf.
After all there were no elves she’d noted in the family. She must have been very good as an orphan to be adopted into a long standing house. She’d used a dance to get over her one sided crush on her ‘cousin’ Viago after she saw him with Teia, some odd years ago. She lays a plank above a certain height in a different room in the Lighthouse. It had seemingly appeared from nowhere, leading to a small in closed and soundproof (at least once the door to the room was closed) area for her dancing. She decided to dance on it as a challenge, now while she had a brief few moments of ‘nothing going hectic for five gods Damned minutes’ in her life. She now had another huge decision to make and she was sure it wasn’t as bad as people being hung in the streets like in Minrathous as she’d had to protect Antiva. It was literally her city. But it was still a big one in her life and she needed the catharsis of rhythm rather than death, even if they were too similar. She knew her heart was divided. Did she risk falling for a Crow again, even as she is almost certain he likes Neve, or did she go after the eloquently spoken Mourn Watcher? Thanks to Bellara’s genius she had a music player created and had recorded several songs (again in the rare minutes of the world not being Blighted for good and ever) or music she could dance to. She chose a quick and challenging tempo and cartwheeled onto the plank as the guitars and horns played. She let her mind fall into the music and the dance as she went from one part of the small walkway to the next with ease. As if she pictured the men in question on the opposite side of the piece of wood, and each was suggesting to her to get off before she hurt herself. Lucanis would do so in a teasing way since he knew their training made it so they could even traverse thin lines if necessary to do so, without falling. As falling equaled death. Emmrich in his adorable (and genuine) worry would try to convince her. Was the worry more than that of a gentleman making sure his colleague and friend was safe? And was the Antivan accent (one she never developed strangely enough) teasing her worth the risk of her losing her heart again?
Lucanis
He had made it out of the kitchen to search for Rook, ‘someone mark the date, it happened’ he was sure she would tease had she been in the Library of the lighthouse when the faint sound of Antivan dance music something he had very little chance to listen to since his release from prison reached his ear.He followed the guitar sounds and there was a room with a big space (for what he idly wondered) and a music player. Spite was itching at the bit to talk to Rook as always. ‘You like Rook! She smells nice. That of Antivan nights, blood, steel, and of chocolate! You’re wasting time!’ And he knew he was. He wasn’t good at romance though, and to further the irony she was a de Riva? He smiled wryly to himself, he certainly had a gods Damned type, as he had many years ago in a failed attempt to woo, gave her cousin a dagger. Thankfully Viago was kind to never mention it, at least in his presence. He watched enthralled as Rook….Zythrid danced. The music seemed to skip and stop and she glanced over a bit surprised and then spotted him, and missed a vital step in her foot work. It was automatic to call Spite to fly, and he zipped in the air and caught her around the waist and fell with her onto the ground winding up with her in his lap. “ Merida ! Are you alright?!” (Shit) He asked his heart rate accelerated. To fall, is to die even if it wasn’t that much of a fall, a meter not even, but it was enough to seriously put her out of commission awhile. He checked her over with his eyes and with his hands, and then stopped looking into her silver eyes, a rare hue. Her face was flushed from all her dancing and her lips slightly parted. Black hair hanging in her face having escaped the style she normally had it in. Gods help him, he wanted her. He’d wanted her from the gods Damned second he noted her in his prison, a friendly Crow mage with another friendly mage. He was so afraid to want her though. He’d risked his heart and gotten burned once by a de Riva. His body had other ideas though, with her so close and pressed against him, as she was. He gave into the temptation of her, wanting to taste her kiss.
Emmrich
He wanted to get Rook’s recommendation for another Antivan read when he caught the sound of music being played by the invention of Bellara. Curious, he followed the sound past the Library (why call that small space one when his space literally held more tomes he didn’t know, nor would he argue with the Lighthouse inhabitants) and into what was obviously a dance space. How quaint that the Lighthouse had added such a room, but why hadn’t he known of its existence before now? Well he supposed when going out adventuring finally and the world Blighted one can be forgiven for not knowing everything about the Lighthouse. He wondered if even Solas knew of the space, when his thoughts and attention were caught on Rook, pardon him Zythrid dancing on a slim plank a meter above the ground. Having introduced herself as the chess piece first his mind automatically made him call her such. Everyone it seemed did so. But he liked to be polite and use her name at least in her home. Sure she practically skipped on thin trees in the wild all the time, it never stopped him from worrying about her welfare though. Yes her life experience and upbringing were vastly different than his own, but he would still loath to see her hurt in any way. And then the possibility did happen, she spotted him in her dancing and in her momentary surprise missed a step and began to fall. He used his magic automatically to catch her in the air.
“Oh, goodness Zythrid are you alright?” He asks worry in his tone. She smiles a teasing one at him.
“I am, thanks to you catching me before I fell. Would have sprained something trying to break my fall the old fashioned way. Going to let me down anytime soon?” The fact she wasn’t demanding him to do so, and she hadn’t thought to use her own magic neither to save herself nor to break from his? Allowing herself to be controlled by him? His hand clutched at his staff trying to keep his self control. Her eyes silver in color, reflected the color green of his magic, and instead of down as she requested, as he normally would have done he brings her to him. Again, she doesn’t stop him. The grip on his staff becomes ever tighter.
“Hand please, dearest.” He asks and without a seconds hesitation she gives it to him. He places his staff against the wall to try and get himself in check. He takes her hand in his, finally lets her on her feet, and changes the tempo from a fast and challenging one to that of a slow waltz he was sure she had in the collection. He was self satisfied when he was correct. “There are safer dances.” He says as he leads her in the traditional dance her following his every signal and footsteps without even having to glance down. Sexy woman.
“Safer? Is that the word you’d use?” She asks in what can only be called a cats purr. They were awfully close as it were.
“Well I was there for you when you fell. And I have you safe now, darling.” Her smile turns reflective, soft, and something else. Something more.
“Oh, that you were Emmrich. And so you do.” She places her head on his chest as they slowly danced and if he felt triumph and delight at this? Well. He alone would know it. The dance ended much to his disappointment. “Thank you. For the dance, and for the rescue.” She says lifting her head and looking at his lips. He may be a gentleman but he was at the end of the day a man with desires. He gave her that kiss she desired, a chaste one. She had practically asked for it after all.
“And thank you. For being there for my fall.” She says softly her lips brushing against his with her soft words.