Work Text:
A letter embossed with the seal of the house of Fortemps may have frightened other adventurers, perhaps being summoned to the castles upon high for condemnation or banishment for poor results of their commissioned quests, held within the hands of the amethyst haired Au Ra this was an infrequent but always welcomed occurrence. Ensuring that they handed over a few gil additional to the delivery fee, though as one of the private messengers of the Fortemps it was not a necessity.
"Count Fortemps has requested an answer to his enquiry upon delivery, ma'am," the postal rider says as he notes that Pyxis was about to tuck the letter away to read through at the next inn they stopped at, stopping her tracks abruptly enough for her to almost fumble the paper into the rough ground underfoot. Managing to keep their grip secure enough, although the looseleaf's edge had crumpled more in one manoeuvre than it had in the care of the deliverer. A clearing of the throat whips Pyxis' already flushed features up to apologise, but out of either courtesy or maintaining an air of keeping the contents of the letter private he had his head turned up high and away.
"Please forgive me," Pyxis mumbles a quick apology regardless, carefully peeling up the wax seal, as to not rip a hole through the back of the contents as she had done on perhaps more than one occasion, to glance through the contents.
Count Edmont de Fortemps cordially invites the Warrior of Light, Pyxis Felixhaven, to the Grand Masquerade to be held on the eve of the Twelfth Sun of the Fourth Astral Moon at the Fortemps' main estate.
Attire suited for the occasion has been sponsored by the Fortemps family, and will be fitted upon your arrival.
A much more formal letter than one they were used to receiving from Edmont or his sons, but the same warmth still spreads through their chest nevertheless. To be still thought of even in times where their paths may never have otherwise crossed once again, to be still able to hold onto bonds that they would often fear would be one-sided, was a blessing in and of itself. The politically charged aspect of being invited by one of Ishgardian royalty was the only worry that muted the immediate acceptance of the invitation. After all, the Au Ra had not been invited as a friend of the family, but specifically heralded by a title that they still held mixed feelings about.
If there were only to be members of Ishgardian royalty at the event, then it may have been a moot point. But for such a lavish occasion to require a summoning and response as soon as possible held connotations of something larger. If persons of power were to be in attendance from other City-States, should they be expecting invitations from the friends she had made in those lands as well?
"I'm sorry to rush you, Warrior," the postal worker's calm voice interrupted the engaging argument shuffling from one side of agreement to another, though even Pyxis could see the flicker of impatience growing at the corner of his eye. "But to ensure I return back to Ishgard in good time, I must insist upon an answer some time soon."
"Yes, of course! An answer!" A nervous laugh billows out into the heat of the mid-morning skies, though the look on the man's face doesn't move an ilm. Under pressure was unfortunately where Pyxis found themselves at the peak of their decision making prowess, and a curt nod of approval accompanies a clearing of her own throat. "Please let Count Edmont know I will be in attendance, and I look forward to seeing him again."
The three day trek back through the gates of Ishgard had been less perilous than the ball dress fitting experience Pyxis was managing to grin and bear through. Where the letter had stated that attire had been provided, they hadn't to be expected to be bombarded by a wall length's rail of choices. Just narrowing down the choice to the eventual winner had taken the best part of the morning, and she was even more thankful to have arrived the evening before to be able to have the time to thank Edmont in person for the kind invitation.
Not that she'd told him about the invitations she had subsequently had to turn down from the envoys sent by Gridania and the captain of the guard from Limsa Lominsa. He had made an educated guess that such a thing had occurred, as glad as ever that his invitation was not only the one to be accepted but the first to arrive. When he had asked about who was the one to dare attempt to reach out from Ul'dah, Pyxis has remained silent. Knowing now that a representative from Ul'dah had been staying in Ishgard for the full week's gathering, the anxiety only rooted itself firmer in the depths of her chest. A letter had not come from them. If it had, then perhaps-
"My apologies, miss!" One of the workers bowed their head to the Au Ra as a sudden hiss of pain sucks through the sharpest of their teeth, long tail recoiling from the culprit: a stray pin that had gotten a little too close for comfort. "I haven't worked with an extra appendage for a dress in some time, and-"
"You don't have to apologise, I'm grateful you're taking the time to make these amendments for me in the first place," Pyxis offers the worried woman an appreciative smile, the wrinkles of pain having already soothed into a generous warmth. They're relieved in return as she lifts her head and eases into a calmed smile of the maid's own, a quick shake of their tail to show it had not been harmed in any way. "My mind was elsewhere anyway, so I can only make apologies myself."
The weaver soon returns to their duties, allowing Pyxis the time to fully appreciate the form of the dress starting to fill out the silhouette she'd been mulling over during her journey. The majority of the dress was made with a plain lightweight cotton, though embroidered silver stars were embedded into the fabric and caught the light in a way to keep the attire from becoming too plain, in the words of the woman who had described each of the gowns in turn. The empire waistline and hem of the skirt was well defined in a damask pattern coloured in the signature black and red colours of the Fortemps household, a statement that Pyxis was hesitant to make but had been 'subtly' incorporated into every option: a requirement for the donation to be given out, they assumed. A wide necklined bodice wrapped around to the diamond back cut, accompanied by short sleeves to let the pale scales be the additional accessories instead of a necklace and lace gloves that they had turned down at each offering.
"There, that will be all for now." The weaver stands back up straight after knotting off the last string of temporary needlework around the makeshift hole for the Au Ra's tail, allowing it full movement even through the flowing skirt, wiping off their brow and joining Pyxis in admiring the reflection staring back at them. "We'll have this all ready before the event tonight, and I believe in the meantime you are due for your next appointment?"
Such a tight schedule for such an elaborate event, but to have been afforded the time to be taken care of even when the Count must have had plenty of other planning to take care of was just another item in the list of gratitudes she needed to extend to him once the festivities were over.
The sun rests low on the horizon as attendees from near and far flock to the main ballroom of the Fortemps estate, the dominoed sea of faces that Pyxis may have otherwise recognised remained anonymised in various levels of secrecy. The mask that the Au Ra wore was nothing more than a formality however: as the only one of their race in attendance, the curved horns that framed her cheeks were a large 'hint' to their identity. Still, as the ribbons of the black silk mask had been weaved up into the white flowers that pinned up loose curls of her hair, even if there was a point in the evening that she wanted to take it off the up-do would have also tumbled back down to her shoulders.
Upon finally stepping into the expansive hall, the highs of violins and the basses of cellos bathed the swathes of conversation blossoming between acquaintances and strangers alike. There were still some sectioned off groups where laughter bubbled up above the masses, likely those who had been invited or gotten ready together and were already predisposed to each others identities. Darkened iris encircled eyes scanned through the plethora of bodies to try and locate anyone that they might have recognised despite the theme, to quell the unease of having to navigate a potentially never ending stream of conversations that all started with-
"The Warrior o' Light is in attendance this evenin', I see."
Whatever high tempo her heart had been resting at before became uncountable to a rate she wasn't sure if it had stopped.
"G-General Al-" The man's full title almost finished escaping from Pyxis' lips as she swivelled on the low heel of her ballroom shoes, turning to look up towards the towering figure that had pressed the side of a finger to scarred lips, the tip nudging up the tip of his own white mask that attempted to hide an already too recognisable guise.
"Is tonight not one of secrecy? Though, perhaps I should've addressed you differently in return if 'am to be such a stickler to the rules." Raubahn's hushed tone rumbles with an attempt to muffle the snicker that mars his otherwise steadfast words, and any reason that Pyxis could have previously thought to remove their mask are lost to them as they become ever thankful it manages to hide the rising blush that would otherwise be on full display.
"Then, how would you have me address you in your usual title's stead?" Pyxis asks, for the first time since the final fitting of the dress wishing that they hadn't accommodated for the flickering tail that caused the bottom hemline of her skirts to flutter where there was otherwise no wind. They were thankful that he didn't seem to pay the motions much mind, though eyes set behind the plain mask were hard to truly see where their gaze lay.
"A difficult question yer throwin' me there," he muses, finger dropping down to meet his thumb at the rough stubble on his jawline, his lips pursed together deep in thought before they crease at the corners at the conclusion. His fist rises up to rest at the side of his temple, one finger pointed upwards. "You can call me 'Bull' for this evenin', if it pleases ye."
A snort of laughter is thankfully hidden by a sweeping run from the first violinist, even if the bright smile that accompanied it could not be so covert. Still, whatever tension there had been between them in their meeting had lifted enough for the General's shoulders to relax, even if he did still look somewhat out of sorts in the formal attire. Usually seen sporting his signature cloak and pauldron, this evening he could have easily blended in as a royal gentleman were it not for his imposing height: a high collared, square cut tailcoat tailored to somehow hold his muscular shape in place, as well as meaningfully adapted to support his missing forearm. The canvas suspenders were the same shade of off-white that his buttoned shirt was, even though Pyxis had to avert their gaze for a moment when they realised that some of the buttons may have been more load bearing than others.
"It is good to meet your acquaintance, Bull," Pyxis regains enough composure to offer the masked figure a polite curtsey, holding out a side of her skirt to allow the patterned stars to glint from the candlelit ballroom for a moment, to maybe distract him from the deepening crimson that could now be spotted blossoming on their shoulders and elbows as well as their cheeks.
The rallentando of the strings that had been nothing but a pleasant background to the conversation at hand was a signal that those who were already on the dance floor were to resolve their steps, and to welcome those who wished to join for the next piece to take their positions. Pyxis had assumed that the crowds would peacefully swap from the side lines to the centre stage, but as an excitable couple dashed behind their back a stray elbow found their back and almost swept them off their feet: were it not for the broad chest at their forehead and steadying hand in the small of their back.
"Well met." Raubahn's chuckle often sang under Pyxis' skin, but as one of her horns was pressed up against his waistcoat the sound was amplified in magnitudes they never could have even dared to hope to hear one day. Regaining their footing enough to stand up straight, the slight step backwards to create space between them again is cancelled out by a mirroring step forwards, the secure pressure of his fingers sinking into the back of their dress. "I will not lie, I was hopin' it would come to this."
A round of cordial applause fills the silence between one song and the next, the muted readying of bows back on strings to start anew, the searing crackle of heat flooding through Pyxis' veins as Raubahn stepped in rhythm to the quiet opening lines of the next piece. All of it blurred together as if to persuade the Warrior of Light that this was nothing more than a dream. Dark eyes that were hidden in the depths of his mask felt too clear to be a simple fantasy as they stared deep into theirs.
"So then... shall we dance?"